Mary Howitt
He is happiest who hath power to gather wisdom from a flower.Collection: Flower
God sends children for another purpose than merely to keep up the race - to enlarge our hearts; and to make us unselfish and full of kindly sympathies and affection; to give our shoulds higher aims; to call out all our faculties to extended enterprise and exertion and to bring round our firesides bright faces, happy smiles, and loving, tender hearts. My soul blesses the great Father, every day, that he has gladdened the earth with little childrenCollection: Children
For visions come not to polluted eyes.Collection: Eye
Yes, in the poor man's garden grow Far more than herbs and flowers - Kind thoughts, contentment, peace of mind, And Joy for weary hours.Collection: Peace
The wild sea roars and lashes the granite cliffs below,And round the misty islets the loud strong tempests blow.Collection: Strong
Will you walk into my parlour? Said the spider to a fly: '"Tis the prettiest little parlour That ever you did spy.Collection: Deception
True delicacy, that most beautiful heart-leaf of humanity, exhibits itself most significantly in little things.Collection: Beautiful
Old England is our home, and Englishmen are we; Our tongue is known in every clime, our flag in every sea.Collection: Home
I know he's coming by this sign, That baby's almost wild; See how he laughs and crows and starts — Heaven, bless the merry child! He's father's self in face and limb, And father's heart is strong in him. Shout, baby, shout! and clap thy hands, For father on the threshold stands.Collection: Baby
God sends children for another purpose than merely to keep up the race -- to enlarge our hearts, to make us unselfish, and full of kindly sympathies and affections.Collection: Children
Then take me on your knee, mother; And listen, mother of mine. A hundred fairies danced last night, And the harpers they were nine.Collection: Mother
When on the breath of Autumn's breeze, From pastures dry and brown, Goes floating, like an idle thought, The fair, white thistle-down; O, then what joy to walk at will, Upon the golden harvest-hill!Collection: Autumn
Roads are wet where'er one wendeth, And with rain the thistle bendeth, And the brook cries like a child! Not a rainbow shines to cheer us; Ah! the sun comes never near us, And the heavens look dark and wile.Collection: Children
Heart's ease! one could look for half a day Upon this flower, and shape in fancy out Full twenty different tales of love and sorrow, That gave this gentle name.Collection: Flower