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Dear Lord, our God and Saviour! for Thy gifts The world were poor in thanks, though every soul Were to do nought but breathe them, every blade Of grass, and every atomie of earth To utter it like dew.
Philip James Bailey
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Philip James Bailey
Age: 86 †
Born: 1816
Born: April 22
Died: 1902
Died: September 6
Author
Poet
Writer
P. J. Bailey
Poor
Gifts
Earth
Grass
Soul
Thanks
Nought
Every
Breathe
Dew
Like
God
Blade
World
Dear
Saviour
Lord
Blades
Though
Utter
More quotes by Philip James Bailey
Life's but a means unto an end, that end, Beginning, mean, and end to all things--God.
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I cannot be content with less than heaven.
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America, thou half-brother of the world with something good and bad of every land.
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Dreams are rudiments Of the great state to come. We dream what is About to happen.
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The worst men often give the best advice. Our deeds are sometimes better than our thoughts.
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Write to the mind and heart, and let the ear Glean after what it can.
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Man is one and he hath one great heart. It is thus we feel, with a gigantic throb athwart the sea, each other's rights and wrongs thus are we men.
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Mind and night will meet, though in silence, like forbidden lovers.
Philip James Bailey
Every believer is God's miracle.
Philip James Bailey
Walk boldly and wisely.... There is a hand above that will help you on.
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When I forget that the stars shine in air-- When I forget that beauty is in stars-- When I forget that love with beauty is-- Will I forget thee: till then all things else.
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The sole equality on earth is death.
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It is much less what we do than what we think, which fits us for the future.
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Necessity, like electricity, is in ourselves and all things, and no more without us than within us.
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The dew, 'Tis of the tears which stars weep, sweet with joy.
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We live in deeds, not years in thoughts, not breaths In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
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Stars which stand as thick as dewdrops on the field of heaven.
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Men might be better if we better deemed of them.
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The strongest passion which I have is honor.
Philip James Bailey
Blessings star forth forever but a curse is like a cloud, it passes.
Philip James Bailey