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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
Humble
Shame
Thoughts
Though
Born
Mother
Mind
Reared
Good
Astray
More quotes by Jean Ingelow
Man is the miracle in nature. God Is the One Miracle to man.
Jean Ingelow
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
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
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
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.
Jean Ingelow
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.
Jean Ingelow
we wish for more in life rather than more of it.
Jean Ingelow
I don't want to die. But I want to be dead.
Jean Ingelow
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!
Jean Ingelow
A healthful hunger for a great idea is the beauty and blessedness of life.
Jean Ingelow
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
And old affront will stir the heart Through years of rankling pain.
Jean Ingelow
O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil!
Jean Ingelow
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
You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven / That God has hidden your face?
Jean Ingelow
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
O woman! thou wert fashioned to beguile: So have all sages said, all poets sung.
Jean Ingelow
Reign, and keep life in this our deep desireOur only greatness is that we aspire.
Jean Ingelow
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
I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.
Jean Ingelow