I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered. — Jean Ingelow God Copy Share Image
And old affront will stir the heart Through years of rankling pain. — Jean Ingelow Affront Copy Share Image
O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil! — Jean Ingelow Daffodil Copy Share Image
It is a comely fashion to be glad; Joy is the grace we say to God. — Jean Ingelow Fashion Copy Share Image
O woman! thou wert fashioned to beguile: So have all sages said, all poets sung. — Jean Ingelow Poet Copy Share Image
A birthday:-and now a day that rose With much of hope, with meaning rife- A thoughtful day from dawn to close: The… — Jean Ingelow Birthday Copy Share Image
There's no dew left on the daisies and clover; there's no rain left in heaven. — Jean Ingelow Clovers Copy Share Image
From henceforth thou shalt learn that there is love To long for, pureness to desire, a mount Of consecration it were good… — Jean Ingelow Consecration Copy Share Image
Work is its own best earthly meed, Else have we none more than the sea-born throng Who wrought those marvellous isles that… — Jean Ingelow Afar Copy Share Image
A healthful hunger for a great idea is the beauty and blessedness of life. — Jean Ingelow Beauty Copy Share Image
The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon. — Jean Ingelow Flower Copy Share Image
People newly emerged from obscurity generally launch out into indiscriminate display. — Jean Ingelow Display Copy Share Image
O sleep! O sleep! Do not forget me. Sometimes come and sweep, Now I have nothing left, thy healing hand Over the… — Jean Ingelow Bland Copy Share Image
O sleep, we are beholden to thee, sleep; Thou bearest angels to us in the night, Saints out of heaven with palms.… — Jean Ingelow Angel Copy Share Image
Her face betokened all things dear and good, The light of somewhat yet to come was there Asleep, and waiting for the… — Jean Ingelow All things Copy Share Image
There is but halting for the wearied foot; The better way is hidden. Faith hath failed; One stronger far than reason mastered… — Jean Ingelow Better way Copy Share Image
I wish, and I wish that the spring would go faster, Nor long summer bide so late; And I could grow on… — Jean Ingelow Asters Copy Share Image
The moon is bleached as white as wool, And just dropping under; Every star is gone but three, And they hang far… — Jean Ingelow Dropping Copy Share Image
When I remember something which I had, But which is gone, and I must do without, I sometimes wonder how I can… — Jean Ingelow Better day Copy Share Image
Such a slender moon, going up and up, Waxing so fast from night to night, And swelling like an orange flower-bud, bright,… — Jean Ingelow Bud Copy Share Image
I opened the doors of my heart. And behold, There was music within and a song, And echoes did feed on the… — Jean Ingelow Bells Copy Share Image
What is thy thought? There is no miracle? There is a great one, which thou hast not read, And never shalt escape.… — Jean Ingelow Art Copy Share Image
How gently rock yon poplars high Against the reach of primrose sky With heaven's pale candles stored. — Jean Ingelow Candle Copy Share Image
When our thoughts are born, Though they be good and humble, one should mind How they are reared, or some will go… — Jean Ingelow Be good Copy Share Image
When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries. — Jean Ingelow Break Copy Share Image
I am glad to think I am not bound to make the world go right, but only to discover and to do,… — Jean Ingelow Bounds Copy Share Image
You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven / That God has hidden your face? — Jean Ingelow Done Copy Share Image
Reign, and keep life in this our deep desireOur only greatness is that we aspire. — Jean Ingelow Aspire Copy Share Image
And bitter waxed the fray; Brother with brother spake no word When they met in the way. — Jean Ingelow Bitter Copy Share Image
Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side. — Jean Ingelow Hope Copy Share Image
Quoth the Ocean, "Dawn! O fairest, clearest, Touch me with thy golden fingers bland; For I have no smile till thou appearest… — Jean Ingelow Bland Copy Share Image
