Quote

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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Joanna Baillie
Age: 88 †
Born: 1762
Born: September 11
Died: 1851
Died: February 23
Playwright
Poet
Tragedy Writer
Writer
Joanna Baillie
Rest
Send
Stand
Damn
Word
Cross
Bellow
Spirit
Crosses
Hem
Earth
Thou
Cough
Silent
Meddling
Speech
Cursed
Single
Villain

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It is so seldom that a young fellow has any inclination for the company of an old man. . .
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Good-morrow to thy sable beak, And glossy plumage, dark and sleek, Thy crimson moon and azure eye
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Heaven often smites in mercy, even when the blow is severest.
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But woman's grief is like a summer storm, Short as it violent is.
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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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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.
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The bliss even of a moment still is bliss.
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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.
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The plainest case in many words entangling.
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Tis ever thus: indulgence spoils the base Raising up pride, and lawless turbulence, Like noxious vapors from the fulsome marsh When morning shines upon it.
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A good man's prayers will from the deepest dungeon climb heaven's height, and bring a blessing down.
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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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Busy work brings after ease Ease brings sport and sport brings rest For young and old, of all degrees, The mingled lot is best.
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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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She who only finds her self-esteem In others' admiration, begs an alms Depends on others for her daily food, And is the very servant of her slaves Tho' oftentimes, in a fantastic hour, O'er men she may a childish pow'r exert, Which not ennobles but degrades her state.
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My day is closed! the gloom of night is come! a hopeless darkness settles over my fate.
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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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Half-uttered praise is to the curious mind, as to the eye half-veiled beauty is, more precious than the whole.
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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.
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Men's actions to futurity appear but as the events to which they are conjoined do give them consequence.
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