Quote

I like the lad who, when his father thought To clip his morning nap by hackneyed phrase Of vagrant worm by early songster caught, Cried, Served him right! it's not at all surprising The worm was punished, sir, for early rising!

John Godfrey Saxe

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John Godfrey Saxe
Age: 70 †
Born: 1816
Born: June 2
Died: 1887
Died: March 31
Poet
Politician
the United States of America
John Godfrey Saxe I
Right
Surprising
Clip
Like
Phrases
Naps
Rising
Worm
Caught
Punished
Early
Worms
Hackneyed
Morning
Phrase
Vagrant
Father
Served
Vagrants
Thought
Cried
Lad

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God bless the man who first invented sleep! So Sancho Panza said, and so say I.
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Alas! poor human nature, pity, if hard pressed, degenerates into contempt.
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I love vast libraries yet there is a doubt, If one be better with them or without,-- Unless he use them wisely, and, indeed, Knows the high art of what and how to read.
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At Learning's fountain it is sweet to drink, But 'tis a nobler privilege to think.
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Beauty intoxicates the eye, as wine does the body both are morally fatal if indulged.
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Order is the primary regulation of the celestial regions.
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Long pains are light ones, Cruel ones are brief!
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It is wise to learn it is God-like to create.
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All things of beauty are not theirs alone who hold the fee but unto him no less who can enjoy, than unto them who own, are sweetest uses given to posses.
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But blast the man, with curses loud and deep, Whate'er the rascal's name, or age, or station, Who first invented, and went round advising, That artificial cut-off, Early Rising!
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Old Care has a mortgage on every estate, And that's what you pay for the wealth that you get.
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Tis well to borrow from the good and the great 'Tis wise to learn: 'tis God-like to create!
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I'm growing fonder of my staff I'm growing dimmer in the eyes I'm growing fainter in my laugh I'm growing deeper in my sighs I'm growing careless of my dress I'm growing frugal of my gold I'm growing wise I'm growing yes, I'm growing old!
John Godfrey Saxe
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Say, what is life? 'Tis to be born, A helpless Babe, to greet the light With a sharp wail, as if the morn Foretold a cloudy noon and night To weep, to sleep, and weep again, With sunny smiles between and then?
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So oft in theologic wars, The disputants, I ween, Rail on in utter ignorance Of what each other mean, And prate about an Elephant Not one of them has seen!
John Godfrey Saxe
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It was six men of Hindustan To learning much inclined, Who went to see the Elephant (Though all of them were blind) That each by observation Might satisfy the mind.
John Godfrey Saxe
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When Nature gives a gorgeous rose, Or yields the simplest fern, She writes this motto on the leaves, To whom it may concern! And so it is the poet comes And revels in her bowers, And, though another hold the land, Is owner of the flowers.
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