• 'Tis like the birthday of the world,
    When earth was born in bloom;
    The light is made of many dyes,
    The air is all perfume:
    There's crimson buds, and white and blue,
    The very rainbow showers
    Have turned to blossoms where they fell,
    And sown the earth with flowers.
  • 'Tis mad idolatry,
    To make the service greater than the god.
  • 'Tis mercy! mercy!
    The mark of heav'n impress'd on human kind,
    Mercy, that glads the world, deals joy around;
    Mercy that smooths the dreadful brow of power,
    And makes dominion light; mercy that saves,
    Binds up the broken heart, and heals despair.
  • 'Tis midnight now. The bent and broken moon,
    Batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles,
    Hangs silent on the purple walls of Heaven.
    Joaquin Miller
  • 'Tis more brave
    To live, than to die.
    OWEN MEREDITH: Lucile, Pt. ii., Canto vi., St. 11.
  • 'Tis more brave
    To live, than to die.
  • 'Tis morn. Behold the kingly Day now leaps
    The eastern wall of earth with sword in hand,
    Clad in a flowing robe of mellow light,
    Like to a king that has regain'd his throne,
    He warms his drooping subjects into joy,
    That rise rejoiced to do him fealty,
    And rules with pomp the universal world.
    Joaquin Miller
  • 'Tis much he dares;
    And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
    He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
    To act in safety.
  • 'Tis neither here nor there.
  • 'Tis neither here nor there.
  • 'Tis no sin for a man to labor in his vocation.
  • 'Tis not a lip or eye we beauty call, but the joint force and full result of all.
  • 'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call,
    But the joint force and full result of all.
  • 'Tis not enough to help the feeble up,
    But to support him after.
  • 'Tis not enough your counsel still be true,
    Blunt truths more mischief than nice falsehoods do.
    * * * * *
    Without good breeding, truth is disapprov'd;
    That only makes superior sense belov'd.
  • 'Tis not in fate to harm me,
    While fate leaves thy love to me;
    'Tis not in joy to charm me,
    Unless that joy be shar'd with thee.
  • 'Tis not necessity, but opinion, that makes men miserable; and when we come to be fancy-sick, there's no cure.
  • 'Tis not sensible to call a man traitor that has an army at his heels.
  • 'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end.
    Robert Herrick
  • 'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth,
    But the plain single vow that is vow'd true.
  • 'Tis not the stoic's lesson got by rote,
    The pomp of words, and pedant dissertation,
    That can support thee in that hour of terror.
    Books have taught cowards to talk nobly of it;
    But when the trial comes, they start and stand aghast.
  • 'Tis nothing when you are used to it.
  • 'Tis now the very witching time of night
    When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out
    Contagion to this world.
  • 'Tis often seen
    Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds
    A native slip to us from foreign lands.
  • 'Tis only from the belief of the goodness and wisdom of a Supreme Being that our calamities can be borne in that manner which becomes a man.
  • 'Tis only noble to be good.
  • 'Tis our fast intent
    To shake all cares and business from our age,
    Conferring them on younger strengths, while we
    Unburden'd crawl toward death.
  • 'Tis pleasant to have a large heap to take from.
  • 'Tis pleasant, sure, to see one's name in print;
    A book's a book, although there's nothing in 't.
    Lord Byron (George Gordon Noel Byron),
  • 'Tis remarkable that they talk most who have the least to say.

  • Danish Dutch English French German

    Italian Latin Portuguese Spanish

  • index - operone