Jean Ingelow
Jean Ingelow
Jean Ingelow, was an English poet and novelist...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth17 March 1820
work heart doe
For hearts where wakened love doth lurk, How fine, how blest a thing is work! For work does good when reasons fail.
english-poet
Against her ankles as she trod The lucky buttercups did nod.
god hidden wrong
You Moon! Have you done something wrong in heaven, / That God has hidden your face?
sweet feet crowds
Crowds of bees are giddy with clover Crowds of grasshoppers skip at our feet, Crowds of larks at their matins hang over, Thanking the Lord for a life so sweet.
happiness song heart
I opened the doors of my heart. And behold, There was music within and a song, And echoes did feed on the sweetness, repeating it long. I opened the doors of my heart. And behold, There was music that played itself out in aeolian notes: Then was heard, as a far-away bell at long intervals tolled.
feet rose wealth
And the guelder rose In a great stillness dropped, and ever dropped, Her wealth about her feet.
tired sleep healing
O sleep! O sleep! Do not forget me. Sometimes come and sweep, Now I have nothing left, thy healing hand Over the lids that crave thy visits bland, Thou kind, thou comforting one. For I have seen his face, as I desired, And all my story is done. O, I am tired.
children sleep angel
O sleep, we are beholden to thee, sleep; Thou bearest angels to us in the night, Saints out of heaven with palms. Seen by thy light Sorrow is some old tale that goeth not deep; Love is a pouting child.
sweet spring past
What change has made the pastures sweet And reached the daisies at my feet, And cloud that wears a golden hem? This lovely world, the hills, the sward-- They all look fresh, as if our Lord But yesterday had finished them.
mother humble mind
When our thoughts are born, Though they be good and humble, one should mind How they are reared, or some will go astray And shame their mother.
stars twilight moon
The moon is bleached as white as wool, And just dropping under; Every star is gone but three, And they hang far asunder,-- There's a sea-ghost all in gray, A tall shape of wonder!
moon heaven faces
You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven / That God has hidden your face?
work sea afar
Work is its own best earthly meed, Else have we none more than the sea-born throng Who wrought those marvellous isles that bloom afar.
fog long desert
The red Sahara in an angry glow, / With amber fogs, across its hollows trailed / Long strings of camels, gloomy-eyed and slow ...