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Quotes by Bloomfield

10 quotations from The Cyclopedia of Practical Quotations (1896), with the subject each one is filed under.

to Blair's "Grave." To Queen To Queen Charlotte. Build me a shrine, and I could kneel To rural Gods, or prostrate fall; Did I not see, did I not feel. That one GREAT SPIRIT governs all. O Heaven, permit that I may lie Where o'er my corse green branches wave; And those who from life's tumults fly With kindred feelings press my grave.— filed under Gratitude

E'en drunken Andrew felt the blow That innocence can give, When its resistless accents flow To bid affection live.— filed under Innocence

Remember the Viper:-'twas close at your feet, How you started and threw yourself into my arms; Not a strawberry there was so ripe nor so sweet As the lips which I kiss'd to subdue your alarms.— filed under Kisses

Fragments. IV. I am young-so is she-and how fair! Then love shall my moments employ; I am caught by her berry brown hair, And the rose on her cheek is my joy!— filed under Love

Love in a shower safe shelter took, In a rosy bower beside a brook, And winked and nodded with conscious pride To his votaries drenched on the other side. Come hither, sweet maids, there's a bridge below, The toll-keeper, Hymen, will let you through, Come over the stream to me.— filed under Love

Fled now the sullen murmurs of the North, The splendid raiment of the Spring peeps forth. His universal green and the clear sky Delight still more and more the gazing eye.— filed under Scripture

542 SEASONS (THE)-SUMMER. But how unlike to April's closing days! High climbs the sun, and darts his powerful rays; Whitens the fresh drawn mould and pierces through The cumbrous clods that tumble round the plough.— filed under Sows

When now, unsparing as the scourge of war, Blasts follow blasts and groves dismantled roar; Around their home the storm-pinched cattle lows, No nourishment in frozen pasture grows; Yet frozen pastures every morn resound With fair abundance thund'ring to the ground.— filed under Sows

Dear Ellen, your tales are all plenteously stored, With the joy of some bride and the wealth of her lord, Of her chariots and dresses, And worldly caresses, And servants that fly when she's waited upon : But what can she boast if she weds unbeloved? Can she e'er feel the joy that one morning I proved, When I put on my new gown and waited for John?— filed under Story-Telling

Strange to the world, he wore a bashful look, The fields his study, nature was his book.— filed under Students