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When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn when man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!

Anna Letitia Barbauld

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Anna Letitia Barbauld
Age: 81 †
Born: 1743
Born: June 20
Died: 1825
Died: March 9
Essayist
Literary Critic
Poet
Leicestershire
England
Anna Laetitia Aiken
Anna Letitia Barbauld
Alone
Forlorn
Dies
Mourn
Death
Torn
Left
Ties
Men
Friendship
Dying
Sweet
Friend
Snatched

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Time deals gently with me and though I feel that I descend, the slope is easy.
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Say not 'Good-night' but in some brighter clime, bid me 'Good-morning.'
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While Genius was thus wasting his strength in eccentric flights, I saw a person of a very different appearance, named Application.
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Society than solitude is worse, And man to man is still the greatest curse.
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Englishmen are said to love their laws - that is the reason, I suppose, they give us so many of them, and in different editions.
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Children have almost an intuitive discernment between the maxims you bring forward for their use, and those by which you direct your own conduct.
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The first pale blossom of the unripened year.
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Of her scorn the maid repented, And the shepherd - of his love.
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The dead of midnight is the noon of thought.
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Nobody ought to be too old to improve: I should be sorry if I was and I flatter myself I have already improved considerably by my travels. First, I can swallow gruel soup, egg soup, and all manner of soups, without making faces much. Secondly, I can pretty well live without tea.
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Young gentlemen, who are to display their knowledge to the world, should have every motive of emulation, should be formed into regular classes, should read and dispute together, should have all the honors, and, if one may say so, the pomp of learning set before them, to call up their ardor. It is their business, and they should apply to it as such.
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Child of mortality, whence comest thou? Why is thy countenance sad, and why are thine eyes red with weeping?
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And when midst fallen London, they survey The stone where Alexander's ashes lay, Shall own with humbled pride the lesson must By Time's slow finger written in the dust.
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Life! we've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather Tis hard to part when friends are dear,- Perhaps 'twill cost a sigh, a tear. Then steal away, give little warning. Choose thine own time, Say not Good-night, but in some brighter clime, Bid me Good-morning.
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The awakenings of remorse, virtuous shame and indignation, the glow of moral approbation if they do not lead to action, grow less and less vivid every time they occur, till at length the mind grows absolutely callous.
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many things I knew, I have forgotten many things I thought I knew, I find I know nothing about some things I know, I have found not worth knowing and some things I would give - O what would one not give to know? are beyond the reach of human ken.
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We can only love what we know.
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You speak of beginning the education of your son. The moment he was able to form an idea his education was already begun. . . .
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if an author would have us feel a strong degree of compassion, his characters must not be too perfect.
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The well taught philosophic mind To all compassion gives Casts round the world an equal eye, And feels for all that lives.
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