Tis ever thus: indulgence spoils the base; Raising up pride, and lawless turbulence, Like noxious vapors from the fulsome marsh When morning shines upon it. — Joanna Baillie Copy Share Image
It ever is the marked propensity of restless and aspiring minds to look into the stretch of dark futurity. — Joanna Baillie Copy Share Image
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… — Joanna Baillie Copy Share Image
Busy work brings after ease; Ease brings sport and sport brings rest; For young and old, of all degrees, The mingled lot is best. — Joanna Baillie Copy Share Image
Ah! happy is the man whose early lot Hath made him master of a furnish'd cot; Who trains the vine that round his window… — Joanna Baillie Copy Share Image
Oh swiftly glides the bonnie boat, Just parted from the shore, And to the fisher's chorus-note Soft moves the dipping oar. — Joanna Baillie Copy Share Image
My day is closed! the gloom of night is come! a hopeless darkness settles over my fate. — Joanna Baillie Copy Share Image
Still on it creeps, Each little moment at another's heels, Till hours, days, years, and ages are made up Of such small parts as… — Joanna Baillie Copy Share Image
War is honorable In those who do their native rights maintain; In those whose swords an iron barrier are Between the lawless spoiler and… — Joanna Baillie Copy Share Image
