My way of life

Is fall'n into the sere, the yellow leaf;

And that which should accompany old age,

As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,

I must not look to have; but in their stead

Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour, breath,

Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Macbeth. Act v. Sc. 3.

I burn to set the imprison'd wranglers free,

And give them voice and utterance once again.

Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast,

Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,

And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn

Throws up a steamy column, and the cups

That cheer but not inebriate wait on each,

So let us welcome peaceful evening in.

William Cowper (1731-1800): The Task. Book iv. The Winter Evening. Line 34.

The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind,

And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.

Oliver Goldsmith (1728-1774): The Deserted Village. Line 121.

Loud roared the dreadful thunder,

The rain a deluge showers.

Andrew Cherry (1762-1812): The Bay of Biscay.

She that was ever fair and never proud,

Had tongue at will, and yet was never loud.

William Shakespeare (1564-1616): Othello. Act ii. Sc. 1.