Edward Coote Pinkney
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Edward Coote Pinkney (October 1, 1802 – April 11, 1828) was an American poet, lawyer, sailor, professor, and editor.
Quotes
[edit]- I fill this cup to one made up
Of loveliness alone,
A woman, of her gentle sex
The seeming paragon;
To whom the better elements
And kindly stars have given
A form so fair, that, like the air,
'Tis less of earth than heaven.- A Health, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).
- Her every tone is music's own,
Like those of morning birds,
And something more than melody
Dwells ever in her words.- A Health, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).
- Look out upon the stars, my love,
And shame them with thine eyes.- A Serenade, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).
The sportive hopes that used to chase their shifting shadows on,
Like children playing in the sun, are gone—for ever gone;
And on a careless, sullen peace, my double-fronted mind,
Like Janus, when his gates are shut, looks forward and behind.Apollo placed his harp, of old, awhile upon a stone,
Which has resounded since, when struck, a breaking harp string's tone;
And thus my heart, though wholly now from early softness free,
If touch'd, will yield the music yet, it first received of thee.- A Picture Song.
- The winds are awed, nor dare to breathe aloud;
The air seems never to have borne a cloud,
Save where volcanoes send to heav'n their curl'd
And solemn smokes, like altars of the world.- Italy (1825).
