Without his knowledge he was won;
Against his nature kept devout;
She'll never tell him how 'twas done,
And he will never find it out.
If, sudden, he suspects her wiles,
And hears her forging chain and trap,
And looks, she sits in simple smiles,
Her two hands lying in her lap.
Her secret (privilege of the Bard,
Whose fancy is of either sex),
Is mine; but let the darkness guard
Myst'ries that light would more perplex!

Go Premium

Support Quotewise while enjoying an ad-free experience and premium features.

View Plans
Unlimited Quote Collections

Organize your favorite quotes without limits. Create themed collections for every occasion with Premium.

Share Your Favorite Quotes

Know a quote that's missing? Help grow our collection.

Creation is nothing but a concerted piece, consisting of representative repetitions and variations of and harmonious commentaries upon the simple theme, God, […] divine contrapuntal music […]. If Beethoven and Bach are but senseless noise to the untrained ears of the boy who likes to hear Balfe on the street organ; you, though you may be capable of Beethoven and Bach, should hesitate to affirm that the sphere-music is not music because to your ears it is nothing but confusion. The first step towards becoming able to hear it is, to fix your attention upon the theme, which is God.

Unlimited Quote Collections

Organize your favorite quotes without limits. Create themed collections for every occasion with Premium.