Page:Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922).djvu/110

This page needs to be proofread.
72
BLINDNESS
BLISS
1

Blessed shall be thy basket and thy store.

Deuteronomy. XXVIII. 5.


2

God bless us every one.

DickensChristmas Carol. Stave 3. (Saying of Tiny Tim.)


O close my hand upon Beatitude!
Not on her toys.
Louise Imogen Gudjey—Deo Optimo MaxiTo heal divisions, to relieve the oppress'd,
In virtue rich; in blessing others, bless'd.

HomerOdyssey. Bk. VII. L. 95 Pope's trans.


A man's best things are nearest him,
Lie close about his feet.

Monckton MilnesThe Men of Old. St. 7.


The blest to-day is as completely so,
As who began a thousand years ago.
 | author = Pope
 | work = Essay on Man.
 | place = Ep. I. L. 75.


God bless us every one, prayed Tiny Tim,
Crippled and dwarfed of body yet so tall
Of soul, we tiptoe earth to look on him,
High towering over all.
James Whttcomb Riley—God Bless Us Every
One.
 | seealso = (See also Dickens)
 | topic =
 | page =
}}

{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = <poem>The benediction of these covering heavens
Fall on their heads like dew!
Cymbeline. Act V. Sc. 5. L. 350.


Like birds, whose beauties languish half concealed,
Till, mounted on the wing, their glossy plumes
Expanded, shine with azure, green and gold;
How blessings brighten as they take their flight.
Young—Night Thoughts. Night H. L. 589.


Amid my list of blessings infinite,
Stands this the foremost, "That my heart has
bled."
Young—Night Thoughts. Night LX. L. 497.
u BLINDNESS
Oh, say! what is that thing call'd light,
Which I must ne'er enjoy?
What are the blessings of the sight?
Oh, tell your poor blind boy!
Collet Cibbeb—The Blind Boy.


None so blind as those that will not see.
Matthew Henry—Commentaries. Jeremiah
XX.
 | seealso = (See also Swift)
 | topic =
 | page =
}}

{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = <poem>Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore;
Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more.

HomerIliad. Bk. XVII. L. 730 Pope's trans.


If the blind lead the blind, both shall fall into
the ditch.
Matthew. XV. 14.
O loss of sight, of thee I most complain!
Blind among enemies, O worse than chains,
Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age!
 | author = Milton
 | work = Samson Agonistes. L. 67.


dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,
Irrecoverably dark! total eclipse,
Without all hope of day.
 | author = Milton
 | work = Samson Agonistes. L. 80.
 These eyes, tho' clear
To outward view of blemish or of spot,
Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot,
Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear
Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year,
Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not
Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot
Of heart or hope; but still bear up and steer
Right onward.
Mhjton—Sonnet XXII. L. 1.


He that is strucken blind cannot forget
The precious treasure of his eyesight lost.

Romeo and Juliet. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 238.


There's none so blind as they that won't see.
Swift—Polite Conversation. Dialogue III.
 | seealso = (See also Henry)
 And when a damp
Fell round the path of Milton, in his hand
The Thing became a trumpet; whence he blew
Soul-animating strains—alas! too few.
Wordsworth—Scorn Not the Sonnet; Critic,
You Hare Frowned.
BLISS
To bliss unknown my lofty soul aspires,
My lot unequal to my vast desires.
J. Arbuthnot—Gnothi Seaton. L. 3.
 Thin partitions do divide
The bounds where good and ill reside;
That nought is perfect here below;
But bliss still bordering upon woe. [P. 50 (1770).
Weekly Magazine, Edinburgh, Vol. I. XXBL
 | seealso = (See also Dryden, under Wit; Pope, under Sense)
 | topic =
 | page =
}}

{{Hoyt quote
 | num =
 | text = <poem>The hues of bliss more brightly glow,
Chastis'd by sabler tints of woe.
Gray—Ode on the Pleasure arising from Vicissitude. L. 45.


Alas! by some degree of woe
We every bliss must gain;
The heart can ne'er a transport know,
That never feels a pain.
Lord Lyttleton—Song.


And my heart rocked its babe of bliss,
And soothed its child of air.
With something 'twixt a song and kiss,
To keep it nestling there.
Gerald Massey—On a Wedding Day. St. 3.


But such a sacred and home-felt delight,
Such sober certainty of waking bliss,
 never heard till now.

MiltonCamus. L. 262.