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The children of the poor are so apt to look as if the rich would have been over-blest with such! Alas for the angel capabilities, interrupted so soon with care, and with after life so sadly unfulfilled.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
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Nathaniel Parker Willis
Age: 61 †
Born: 1806
Born: January 20
Died: 1867
Died: January 20
Author
Journalist
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Portland
Maine
Nathanael Parker Willis
Life
Soon
Blest
Rich
Unfulfilled
Poor
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Care
Sadly
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Children
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Would
Angel
More quotes by Nathaniel Parker Willis
Blessed are the joymakers.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
O, when the heart is, full, when bitter thoughts come crowding thickly up for utterance, and the poor common words of courtesy are such a very mockery, how much the bursting heart may pour itself in prayer!
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The lily and the rose in her fair face striving for precedence.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
T is the work of many a dark hour, many a prayer, to bring the heart back from an infant gone.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Your love in a cottage is hungry, Your vine is a nest for flies- Your milkmaid shocks the Graces, And simplicity talks of pies! You lie down to your shady slumber And wake with a bug in your ear, And your damsel that walks in the morning Is shod like a mountaineer.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The perfect world, by Adam trod, Was the first temple--built by God-- His fiat laid the corner stone, And heaved its pillars, one by one.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Maturity is most rapid in the low latitudes, where pineapples and women most do thrive.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The Spring is here--the delicate footed May, With its slight fingers full of leaves and flowers, And with it comes a thirst to be away. In lovelier scenes to pass these sweeter hours.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Temptation hath a music for all ears.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Flirtation is a circulating library, in which we seldom ask twice for the same volume.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
I'm weary of my lonely but And of its blasted tree, The very lake is like my lot, So silent constantly-- I've liv'd amid the forest gloom Until I almost fear-- When will the thrilling voices come My spirit thirsts to hear?
Nathaniel Parker Willis
One lamp — thy mother’s love — amid the stars Shall lift its pure flame changeless, and before The throne of God, burn through eternity - Holy — as it was lit and lent thee here.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
If e'er I win a parting token, 'Tis something that has lost its power-- A chain that has been used and broken, A ruin'd glove, a faded flower Something that makes my pleasure less, Something that means--forgetfulness.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
It is the month of June, The month of leaves and roses, When pleasant sights salute the eyes, And pleasant scents the noses.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Gratitude is not only the memory but the homage of the heart- rendered to God for his goodness.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Of dead kingdoms I recall the soul, sitting amid their ruins
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The night is made for tenderness,--so still that the low whisper, scarcely audible, is heard like music,--and so deeply pure that the fond thought is chastened as it springs and on the lip made holy.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Nature has thrown a veil of modest beauty over maidenhood and moss-roses.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Youth is beautiful its friendship is precious the intercourse with it is a purifying release from the worn and stained harness of older life.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The smallest pebble in the well of truth has its peculiar meaning, and will stand when man's best monuments have passed away.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
