Quote #6
This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, And Wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars.
More from Anna Letitia Barbauld
- Man is the nobler growth our realms supply, And souls are ripened in our northern sky.
- It is to hope, though hope were lost.
- The chearful light, the vital air, Are blessings widely given ; Let nature's commoners enjoy The common gifts of heaven.
- Life! we've been long together Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; 'T is hard to part when friends are dear,- Perhaps 't will cost…
- If e'er thy breast with freedom glow'd, And spurn'd a tyrant's chain, Let not thy strong oppressive force A free-born mouse detain.
- So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day; So dies a wave along the shore.
- OH! hear a pensive captive's prayer, For liberty that sighs ; And never let thine heart be shut Against the prisoner's cries.
- Child of mortality, whence comest thou? Why is thy countenance sad, and why are thine eyes red with weeping?