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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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Jean Ingelow
Age: 77 †
Born: 1820
Born: March 17
Died: 1897
Died: July 20
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Boston
England
Orris
Despair
Rain
Heaven
Left
Clover
Clovers
Daisies
Dew

More quotes by Jean Ingelow

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I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.
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It is not reason which makes faith hard, but life.
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I don't want to die. But I want to be dead.
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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.
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Man is the miracle in nature. God Is the One Miracle to man.
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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.
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Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.
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And old affront will stir the heart Through years of rankling pain.
Jean Ingelow
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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!
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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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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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O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil!
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.
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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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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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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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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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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
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A healthful hunger for a great idea is the beauty and blessedness of 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