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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
Though
Utter
Poor
Gifts
Earth
Grass
Soul
Thanks
Nought
Every
Breathe
Dew
Like
God
Blade
World
Dear
Saviour
Lord
Blades
More quotes by Philip James Bailey
The course of Nature seems a course of Death, And nothingness the whole substantial thing.
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The worst men often give the best advice. Our deeds are sometimes better than our thoughts.
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The heart is its own Fate.
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The ground of all great thoughts is sadness.
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Envy's a coal comes hissing hot from Hell.
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I cannot be content with less than heaven.
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Words are the motes of thought, and nothing more.
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Life is as serious a thing as death.
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Men might be better if we better deemed of them.
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Application is the price to be paid for mental acquisition. To have the harvest, we must sow the seed.
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As the master so the valet.
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Naught but God Can satisfy the soul.
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Life's but a means unto an end, that end, Beginning, mean, and end to all things--God.
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Grief hallows hearts, even while it ages heads.
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Evil is limited. One cannot form A scheme for universal evil.
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The sole equality on earth is death.
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The dew, 'Tis of the tears which stars weep, sweet with joy.
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What are ye orbs? The words of God? the Scriptures of the skies?
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A poet not in love is out at sea He must have a lay-figure.
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Write to the mind and heart, and let the ear Glean after what it can.
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