John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Page 433
| Thomas Moss. (1740–1808) |
| 4622 |
| Pity the sorrows of a poor old man, Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span; Oh give relief, and Heaven will bless your store. |
| The Beggar. |
| 4623 |
| A pampered menial drove me from the door. 1 |
| The Beggar. |
| Anna Letitia (Aikin) Barbauld. (1743–1825) |
| 4624 |
| Man is the nobler growth our realms supply, And souls are ripened in our northern sky. |
| The Invitation. |
| 4625 |
| This dead of midnight is the noon of thought, And Wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars. |
| A Summer’s Evening Meditation. |
| 4626 |
| It is to hope, though hope were lost. 2 |
| Come here, Fond Youth. |
| 4627 |
| 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 a sigh, a tear; Then steal away, give little warning, Choose thine own time; Say not “Good night,” but in some brighter clime Bid me “Good morning.” |
| Life. |
| Note 1. This line stood originally, “A liveried servant,” etc., and was altered as above by Goldsmith.—Forster: Life of Goldsmith, vol. i. p. 215 (fifth edition, 1871). [back] |
| Note 2. Who against hope believed in hope.—Romans iv. 18. Hope against hope, and ask till ye receive.—James Montgomery: The World before the Flood. [back] |