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Quotes by X. Joanna Baillie
Some men are born to feast, and not to fight; Whose sluggish minds, e'en in fair honor's field, Still on their dinner turn- Let such pot-boiling varlets stay at home, And wield a flesh-hook rather than a sword.— filed under Festivities
Cock. Good-morrow to thy sable beak, And glossy plumage, dark and sleek, Thy crimson moon and azure eye, Cock of the heath, so wildly shy!— filed under Birds-Canary
Oh, swiftly glides the bonnie boat, Just parted from the shore, And to the fisher's chorus-note, Soft moves the dipping oar!— filed under Boating
Ay, and when huntsmen wind the merry horn, And from its covert starts the fearful prey; Who, warm'd with youth's blood in his swelling veins, Would, like a lifeless clod, outstretched lie, Shut up from all the fair creation offers?— filed under Chase, The
Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world But those who slide along the grassy sod, And sting the luckless foot that presses them? There are who in the path of social life Do bask their spotted skins in Fortune's sun, And sting the soul.— filed under Deceit
Sweet sleep be with us, one and all! And if upon its stillness fall The visions of a busy brain, We'll have our pleasure o'er again, To warm the heart, to charm the sight, Gay dreams to all! good night, good night.— filed under Dreams
The brave man is not he who feels no fear, For that were stupid and irrational; But he, whose noble soul its fear subdues, And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from.— filed under Fear
The tyrant now Trusts not to men: nightly within his chamber The watch-dog guards his couch, the only friend He now dare trust.— filed under Tyranny
A willing heart adds feather to the heel, And makes the clown a winged Mercury.— filed under Will
But woman's grief is like a summer storm, Short as it violent is.— filed under Woman
Words of affection, howsoe'er express'd, The latest spoken still are deem'd the best.— filed under Words