“Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves, when he did sing; To his music, plants and flowers Ever sprung; as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing, die.”
Quote by William Shakespeare
Author
You May Also Like
“Aand in the end, Having my freedom, boast of nothing else But that I was a journeyman to grief?”
Source: The William Carlos Williams Reader
“No blessed leisure for love or hope, But only time for grief.”
Source: Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Thomas Hood (Illustrated)
Source: The Confessions of St. Augustine, Including the Imitation of Christ
