Home > Picture Quotes > Author > Edmund Waller > Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song.
Soft words, with nothing in them, make a song.
With wisdom fraught; not such as books, but such as practice taught.
That eagle’s fate and mine are one, Which, on the shaft that
Others may use the ocean as their road; only the english make it their abode.
But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad in flesh and blood.
Consent in virtue knit your hearts so fast, That still the knot,
The chain that’s fixed to the throne of Jove, On which the
The soul’s dark cottage, batter’d and decay’d, Lets in new light through
The seas are quiet when the winds give o’er; so calm are we when passions are no more!
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