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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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Jean Ingelow
Age: 77 †
Born: 1820
Born: March 17
Died: 1897
Died: July 20
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Boston
England
Orris
Shame
Thoughts
Though
Born
Mother
Mind
Reared
Good
Astray
Humble

More quotes by Jean Ingelow

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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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You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven / That God has hidden your face?
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.
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we wish for more in life rather than more of it.
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O woman! thou wert fashioned to beguile: So have all sages said, all poets sung.
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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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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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A healthful hunger for a great idea is the beauty and blessedness of life.
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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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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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.
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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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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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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I don't want to die. But I want to be dead.
Jean Ingelow
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It is not reason which makes faith hard, but life.
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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People newly emerged from obscurity generally launch out into indiscriminate display.
Jean Ingelow
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Man is the miracle in nature. God Is the One Miracle to man.
Jean Ingelow