Quotes
Quotes about Wit
? John Bartlett, compLor', but women's rum cattle to deal with, the first man found that to his cost,
And I reckon it's just through a woman the last man on earth'll be lost.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie.
Glad did I live, and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.
This be the verse you grave for me:
"Here he lies, where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill."
We twain
Discussed with buoyant hearts
The various things that appertain
To bibliomaniac arts.
The little toy-dog is covered with dust
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy-soldier is red with rust
And his musket moulds in his hands;
Time was when the little toy-dog was new,
And the soldier was passing fair;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.
? John Bartlett, compEngland's sun was slowly setting o'er the hill-tops far away,
Filling all the land with beauty at the close of one sad day;
And its last rays kissed the forehead of a man and maiden fair,--
He with footsteps slow and weary; she with sunny, floating hair;
He with bowed head, sad and thoughtful; she with lips so cold and white,
Struggled to keep back the murmur, "Curfew must not ring to-night."
The sunshine of thine eyes,
(O still celestial beam!)
Whatever it touches it fills
With the life of its lambent gleam.
The sunshine of thine eyes,
Oh, let it fall on me!
Though I be but a mote of the air,
I could turn to gold for thee.
? John Bartlett, compThe Night has a thousand eyes,
And the Day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.
The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.
Men have dulled their eyes with sin,
And dimmed the light of heaven with doubt,
And built their temple-walls to shut thee in,
And framed their iron creeds to shut thee out.
Love must kiss that mortal's eyes
Who hopes to see fair Arcady.
No gold can buy you entrance there;
But beggared Love may go all bare--
No wisdom won with weariness;
But Love goes in with Folly's dress--
No fame that wit could ever win;
But only Love may lead Love in.
? John Bartlett, compLife is a voyage. The winds of life come strong
From every point; yet each will speed thy course along,
If thou with steady hand when tempests blow
Canst keep thy course aright and never once let go.
Death is an angel with two faces:
To us he turns
A face of terror, blighting all things fair;
The other burns
With glory of the stars, and love is there.
? John Bartlett, compLaugh and the world laughs with you,
Weep, and you weep alone;
For this brave old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword.
The vilest deeds like poison-weeds
Bloom well in prison-air:
It is only what is good in Man
That wastes and withers there:
Pale Anguish keeps the heavy gate
And the Warder is Despair.
Down beyond the haven the tide comes with a shout.
In this world with starry dome,
Floored with gemlike plains and seas,
Shall I never feel at home,
Never wholly be at ease?
The hills look over on the South,
And Southward dreams the sea;
And with the sea-breeze hand in hand,
Came innocence and she.
A million million worlds that move in peace;
A million mighty laws that never cease;
And one small ant-heap, hidden by small weeds,
Rich with eggs, slaves and store of millet-seeds.
They sleep beneath the sod
And trust in God.
There paused to shut the door
A fellow called the Wind,
With mystery before,
And reticence behind.
? John Bartlett, compWhene'er I walk the public ways,
How many poor that lack ablution
Do probe my heart with pensive gaze,
And beg a trivial contribution!
In all climes we pitch out tents,
Cronies of the elements,
With the secret lords of birth
Intimate and free.
Nor love they least
Who strike with right good will
To vanquish ill
And fight God's battle upward from the beast.
For 't is always fair weather
When good fellows get together
With a stein on the table and a good song ringing clear.
How loving is the Lord God and how strong withal!
