FastSaying
Ye living lamps, by whose dear light The nightingale does sit so late; And studying all the summer night, Her matchless songs does meditate.
Andrew Marvell
Glowworms
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Ye country comets, that portend No war not princes' funeral Shining unto no other end Than to presage the grass's fall.
— Andrew Marvell
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Among the crooked lanes, on every hedge, The glow-worm lights his gem; and through the dark, A moving radiance twinkles.
— James Thomson (1)
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Like a glowworm golden, in a dell of dew, Scattering unbeholden its aerial blue Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view.
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The glowworm shows the matin to be near And gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
— William Shakespeare
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When evening closes Nature's eye, The glow-worm lights her little spark To captivate her favorite fly And tempt the rover through the dark.
— James Montgomery
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