The march of conquest through wild provinces, may be the march of Mind; but not the march of Love.
Herman MelvilleAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist, Writer, Poet
- Nationality: american
- Born: August 1, 1819
- Died: September 28, 1891
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That time of year thou mayst in me behold. When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang. Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day. As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by and by black night doth take away, Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire. That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, As the death-bed whereon it must expire. Consumed...
William Shakespeare