Joanna Baillie
Joanna Baillie
Joanna Bailliewas a Scottish poet and dramatist. Baillie was very well known during her lifetime and, though a woman, intended her plays not for the closet but for the stage. Admired both for her literary powers and her sweetness of disposition, she hosted a literary society in her cottage at Hampstead. Baillie died at the age of 88, her faculties remaining unimpaired to the last...
NationalityScottish
ProfessionPoet
fate night darkness
My day is closed! the gloom of night is come! a hopeless darkness settles over my fate.
good-night dream sweet
Sweet sleep be with us, one and all! And if upon its stillness fall The visions of a busy brain, We'll have our pleasure o'er again, To warm the heart, to charm the sight, Gay dreams to all! good night, good night.
art night tongue
O mysterious Night! thou art not silent; many tongues halt thou.
custom hath prize though
What custom hath endeared We part with sadly, though we prize it not
empty fame lightly shall
O! who shall lightly say that fame/ is nothing but an empty name?
heart
He was not all a father's heart could wish;/ But oh, he was my son! my only son.
frozen portion
He that will not give some portion of his ease, his blood, his wealth, for others' good, is a poor, frozen churl
prayer blessing men
A good man's prayers will from the deepest dungeon climb heaven's height, and bring a blessing down.
blood giving frozen
He that will not give some portion of his ease, his blood, his wealth, for other's good, is a poor, frozen churl.
affection stills
Words of affection, howsoe'er expressed, The latest spoken still are deem'd the best.
sports ease degrees
Busy work brings after ease; Ease brings sport and sport brings rest; For young and old, of all degrees, The mingled lot is best.
eye dark moon
Good-morrow to thy sable beak, And glossy plumage, dark and sleek, Thy crimson moon and azure eye
triumph has-beens
This will be triumph! This will be happiness! Yea, that very thing, happiness, which I have been pursuing all my life, and have never yet overtaken.
men years age
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 these, and men look back Worn and bewilder'd, wondering how it is.