Jean Ingelow Quotes

O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil!

A healthful hunger for a great idea is the beauty and blessedness of life.

Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.

When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries.

I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.

Crowds of bees are giddy with clover Crowds of grasshoppers skip at our feet, Crowds of larks at their matins hang over, Thanking the Lord for a life so sweet.

Her face betokened all things dear and good, The light of somewhat yet to come was there Asleep, and waiting for the opening day, When childish thoughts, like flowers would drift away.

And bitter waxed the fray; Brother with brother spake no word When they met in the way.

Man is the miracle in nature. God Is the One Miracle to man.

The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.

I wish, and I wish that the spring would go faster, Nor long summer bide so late; And I could grow on like the foxglove and aster, For some things are ill to wait.

There's no dew left on the daisies and clover; there's no rain left in heaven.

How gently rock yon poplars high Against the reach of primrose sky With heaven's pale candles stored.

And old affront will stir the heart Through years of rankling pain.

A birthday:-and now a day that rose With much of hope, with meaning rife- A thoughtful day from dawn to close: The middle day of human life.

The moon is bleached as white as wool, And just dropping under; Every star is gone but three, And they hang far asunder,-- There's a sea-ghost all in gray, A tall shape of wonder!

O woman! thou wert fashioned to beguile: So have all sages said, all poets sung.

There is but halting for the wearied foot; The better way is hidden. Faith hath failed; One stronger far than reason mastered her. It is not reason makes faith hard, but life.

Quoth the Ocean, "Dawn! O fairest, clearest, Touch me with thy golden fingers bland; For I have no smile till thou appearest For the lovely land.

It is not reason which makes faith hard, but life.

I am athirst for God, the living God.

I am glad to think I am not bound to make the world go right, but only to discover and to do, with cheerful heart, the work that God appoints.

Children bring their own love with them when they come.

I don't want to die. But I want to be dead.

The red Sahara in an angry glow, / With amber fogs, across its hollows trailed / Long strings of camels, gloomy-eyed and slow.

we wish for more in life rather than more of it.

You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven / That God has hidden your face?

For hearts where wakened love doth lurk, How fine, how blest a thing is work! For work does good when reasons fail.

And the guelder rose In a great stillness dropped, and ever dropped, Her wealth about her feet.

Reign, and keep life in this our deep desireOur only greatness is that we aspire.

People newly emerged from obscurity generally launch out into indiscriminate display.

When our thoughts are born, Though they be good and humble, one should mind How they are reared, or some will go astray And shame their mother.

Work is its own best earthly meed, Else have we none more than the sea-born throng Who wrought those marvellous isles that bloom afar.

How short our happy days appear! How long the sorrowful!

It is a comely fashion to be glad; Joy is the grace we say to God.

From henceforth thou shalt learn that there is love To long for, pureness to desire, a mount Of consecration it were good to scale.

Yet there are some resting-places, / Life's untroubled interludes; / Times when neither past nor future / On the soul's deep calm intrudes.

Tears are the showers that fertilize this world.

I have lived life long enough to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered

When sparrows build and the leaves break forth, My old sorrow wakes and cries.

Against her ankles as she trod The lucky buttercups did nod.

The moon looks upon many night flowers the night flowers see but one moon.

Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes they turn Like marigolds toward the sunny side.