Fly not yet; 't is just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flow…

Charles Lamb
151 citations
Fly not yet; 't is just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night And maids who love the moon.
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'T is sweet to think that where'er we rove We are sure to find something blissful and dear; And that when we 're far from the lips we love, We 've but to make love to the lips we are near.
I could never hate anyone I knew. ✨ Charles Lamb. Book by Alfred Ainger, chapter 6, p. 12, 1882.
The greatest pleasure I know, is to do a good action by stealth, and to have it found out by accident. ✨ The Life, Letters and Writings of Charles Lamb.
We were happier when we were poorer, but we were also younger. ✨ Charles Lamb (1835). Essays of Elia: To which are Added Letters, and Rosamund, a Tale, p.276
I give thee all,-I can no more, Though poor the off'ring be; My heart and lute are all the store That I can bring to thee.

Fly not yet; 't is just the hour When pleasure, like the midnight flower That scorns the eye of vulgar light, Begins to bloom for sons of night And maids who love the moon.

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