Dewdrops, Nature's tears, which she Sheds in her own breast for the fair which die. The sun insists on gladness; but at night, When he is gone, poor Nature loves to weep. — Philip James Bailey Copy Share Image
Thou art a woman, And that is saying the best and worst of thee. — Philip James Bailey Copy Share Image
The death-change comes. Death is another life. We bow our heads At going out, we think, and enter straight Another golden chamber of the… — Philip James Bailey Copy Share Image
It is fine to stand upon some lofty mountain thought, and feel the spirit stretch into a view. — Philip James Bailey Copy Share Image
Fine thoughts are wealth, for the right use of which Men are and ought to be accountable,-- If not to Thee, to those they… — Philip James Bailey Copy Share Image
