|John Bartlett (18201905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.|
|Jane Taylor. (17831824) (continued)|
| Oh that it were my chief delight|
To do the things I ought!
Then let me try with all my might
To mind what I am taught.
| For a Very Little Child. 1|
| Who ran to help me when I fell,|
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
| My Mother.|
|Reginald Heber. (17831826)|
| Failed the bright promise of your early day.|
| No hammers fell, no ponderous axes rung;|
Like some tall palm the mystic fabric sprung. 2
| Brightest and best of the sons of the morning,|
Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid.
| By cool Siloams shady rill|
How sweet the lily grows!
| First Sunday after Epiphany. No. ii.|
| When Spring unlocks the flowers to paint the laughing soil.|
| Seventh Sunday after Trinity.|
| Death rides on every passing breeze,|
He lurks in every flower.
| At a Funeral. No. i.|
| Thou art gone to the grave; but we will not deplore thee,|
Though sorrows and darkness encompass the tomb.
| At a Funeral. No. ii.|
| Thus heavenly hope is all serene,|
But earthly hope, how bright soeer,
Still fluctuates oer this changing scene,
As false and fleeting as t is fair.
| On Heavenly Hope and Earthly Hope.|
Written by Ann Taylor. [back]
Altered in later editions to
No workmans steel, no ponderous axes rung,
Like some tall palm the noiseless fabric sprung. [back]