Writing is learning to say nothing, more cleverly each day.
"William Allingham" was an Irish poet, diarist and editor. He wrote several volumes of lyric verse, and his poem 'The Faeries' was much anthologised; but he is better known for his posthumously published Diary, in which he records his lively encounters with Tennyson, Carlyle and other writers and artists. His wife, Helen Allingham, was a well-known water-colorist.
If you enjoy these quotes, be sure to check out other famous poets! More William Allingham on Wikipedia.But this is not my little bed;That time is far away;With strangers now I live instead,From dreary day to day.
She danced a jig, she sung a song that took my heart away.
Scarcely a tear to shed;Hardly a word to say;The end of a Summer's day;Sweet Love is dead.
Four ducks on a pond, / A grass-bank beyond, / A blue sky of spring, / White clouds on the wing: / What a little thing / To remember for years - / To remember with tears!
A man who keeps a diary pays, Due toll to many tedious days; But life becomes eventful - then, His busy hand forgets the pen. Most books, indeed, are records less Of fulness than of emptiness.
Autumn's the mellow time.
And in a chair well-knownMy mother sat, and did not tireWith reading all alone.If I should make the slightest soundTo show that I'm awake,She'd rise, and lap the blankets round,My pillow softly shake;Kiss me, and turn my face to seeThe shadows on the wall,And then sing Rousseau's Dream to me,Till fast asleep I fall.
Before a day was over,Home comes the rover,For mother's kiss—sweeter thisThan any other thing!
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