Helen Maria Williams Quotes

Expression, child of soul! I fondly trace
Thy strong enchantment, when the poet's lyre, The painter's pencil cathch thy sacred fire, And beauty wakes for thee her touching grace

No riches from his scanty store
My lover could impart
He gave a boon I valued more—
He gave me all his heart !

Pale moon ! thy mild benignant light May glad some other's captive sight Where are the years with pleasure gay How bright their course ! How short their stay !