Lay your sleeping head, my love
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral;
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie:
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful. (W. H. Auden)

Lay your sleeping head, my love Human on my faithless arm; Time and fevers burn away Individual beauty from Thoughtful children, and the grave Proves the child ephemeral; But in my arms till break of day Let the living creature lie: Mortal, guilty, but to me The entirely beautiful.

W. H. Auden

Related topics

arm arms beautiful beauty break burn children child day ephemeral grave guilty head human lay lie living mortal sleeping till

Related quotes

People associate me with a time when movies were pleasant, when women wore pretty dresses in films and you heard beautiful music. I always love it when people write me and say «I was having a rotten time, and I walked into a cinema and saw one of your movies, and it made such a difference.».

Audrey Hepburn

Philips, whose touch harmonious could remove The pangs of guilty power and hapless love Rest here, distress'd by poverty no more Here find that calm thou gav'st so oft before Sleep undisturb'd within this peaceful shrine, Till angels wake thee with a note like thine.

Samuel Johnson

All that a pacifist can undertake -- but it is a very great deal -- is to refuse to kill, injure or otherwise cause suffering to another human creature, and untiringly to order his life by the rule of love though others may be captured by hate.

Vera Brittain

There is one expanding horror in American life. It is that our long odyssey toward liberty, democracy and freedom-for-all may be achieved in such a way that utopia remains forever closed, and we live in freedom and hell, debased of style, not individual from one another, void of courage, our fear rationalized away.

Norman Mailer

When in the end, the day came on which I was going away, I learned the strange learning that things can happen which we ourselves cannot possibly imagine, either beforehand, or at the time when they are taking place, or afterwards when we look back on them.

Karen Blixen