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

Jean Ingelow

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Jean Ingelow
Age: 77 †
Born: 1820
Born: March 17
Died: 1897
Died: July 20
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Boston
England
Orris
Life
Scale
Scales
Thou
Learn
Pureness
Desire
Henceforth
Long
Consecration
Good
Shalt
Love
Mount

More quotes by Jean Ingelow

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Such a slender moon, going up and up, Waxing so fast from night to night, And swelling like an orange flower-bud, bright, Fated, methought, to round as to a golden cup, And hold to my two lips life's best of wine.
Jean Ingelow
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Reign, and keep life in this our deep desireOur only greatness is that we aspire.
Jean Ingelow
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O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil!
Jean Ingelow
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we wish for more in life rather than more of it.
Jean Ingelow
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O sleep! O sleep! Do not forget me. Sometimes come and sweep, Now I have nothing left, thy healing hand Over the lids that crave thy visits bland, Thou kind, thou comforting one. For I have seen his face, as I desired, And all my story is done. O, I am tired.
Jean Ingelow
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Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.
Jean Ingelow
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You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven / That God has hidden your face?
Jean Ingelow
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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.
Jean Ingelow
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Man is the miracle in nature. God Is the One Miracle to man.
Jean Ingelow
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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.
Jean Ingelow
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When I remember something which I had, But which is gone, and I must do without, I sometimes wonder how I can be glad, Even in cowslip time when hedges sprout It makes me sigh to think on it,--but yet My days will not be better days, should I forget.
Jean Ingelow
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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.
Jean Ingelow
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What is thy thought? There is no miracle? There is a great one, which thou hast not read, And never shalt escape. Thyself, O man, Thou art the miracle. Ay, thou thyself, Being in the world and of the world, thyself, Hast breathed in breath from Him that made the world. Thou art thy Father's copy of Himself,-- Thou art thy Father's miracle.
Jean Ingelow
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What change has made the pastures sweet And reached the daisies at my feet, And cloud that wears a golden hem? This lovely world, the hills, the sward-- They all look fresh, as if our Lord But yesterday had finished them.
Jean Ingelow
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It is not reason which makes faith hard, but life.
Jean Ingelow
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I don't want to die. But I want to be dead.
Jean Ingelow
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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.
Jean Ingelow
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I opened the doors of my heart. And behold, There was music within and a song, And echoes did feed on the sweetness, repeating it long. I opened the doors of my heart. And behold, There was music that played itself out in aeolian notes: Then was heard, as a far-away bell at long intervals tolled.
Jean Ingelow
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There's no dew left on the daisies and clover there's no rain left in heaven.
Jean Ingelow
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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.
Jean Ingelow