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A good man's prayers will from the deepest dungeon climb heaven's height, and bring a blessing down.

Joanna Baillie

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Joanna Baillie
Age: 88 †
Born: 1762
Born: September 11
Died: 1851
Died: February 23
Playwright
Poet
Tragedy Writer
Writer
Joanna Baillie
Deepest
Height
Blessing
Bring
Dungeon
Prayer
Dungeons
Heaven
Climb
Good
Prayers
Men
Climbs

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The bliss even of a moment still is bliss.
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There is a sight all hearts beguiling-- A youthful mother to her infant smiling, Who with spread arms and dancing feet, A cooing voice, returns its answer sweet.
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Ah! happy is the man whose early lot Hath made him master of a furnish'd cot Who trains the vine that round his window grows, And after setting sun his garden hoes Whose wattled pails his own enclosure shield, Who toils not daily in another's field.
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Heaven often smites in mercy, even when the blow is severest.
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A woman is seldom roused to great and courageous exertion but when something most dear to her is in immediate danger.
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Time never bears such moments on his wing as when he flies too swiftly to be marked.
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Still on it creeps, Each little moment at another's heels, Till hours, days, years, and ages are made up Of such small parts as these, and men look back Worn and bewilder'd, wondering how it is.
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Stand there, damn'd meddling villain, and be silent For if thou utt'rest but a single word, A cough or hem, to cross me in my speech, I'll send thy cursed spirit from the earth, To bellow with the damn'd!
Joanna Baillie
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I am as one Who doth attempt some lofty mountain's height, And having gained what to the upcast eye The summit's point appear'd, astonished sees Its cloudy top, majestic and enlarged, Towering aloft, as distant as before.
Joanna Baillie
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Pride is a fault that great men blush not to own: it is the ennobled offspring of self-love though, it must be confessed, grave and pompous vanity, Iike a fat plebeian in a rove of office, does very often assume its name.
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O lovely Sisters! is it true That they are all inspired by you, And write by inward magic charm'd, And high enthusiasm warm'd?
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Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world But those who slide along the grassy sod, And sting the luckless foot that presses them? There are who in the path of social life Do bask their spotted skins in Fortune's sun, And sting the soul.
Joanna Baillie
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Busy work brings after ease Ease brings sport and sport brings rest For young and old, of all degrees, The mingled lot is best.
Joanna Baillie
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I wish I were with some of the wild people that run in the woods, and know nothing about accomplishments!
Joanna Baillie
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Oh swiftly glides the bonnie boat, Just parted from the shore, And to the fisher's chorus-note Soft moves the dipping oar.
Joanna Baillie
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But woman's grief is like a summer storm, Short as it violent is.
Joanna Baillie
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Good-morrow to thy sable beak, And glossy plumage, dark and sleek, Thy crimson moon and azure eye
Joanna Baillie
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My day is closed! the gloom of night is come! a hopeless darkness settles over my fate.
Joanna Baillie
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Men's actions to futurity appear but as the events to which they are conjoined do give them consequence.
Joanna Baillie
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The inward sighs of humble penitence Rise to the ear of Heaven, when peal'd hymns Are scatter'd with the sounds of common air.
Joanna Baillie