A Quote by Maltbie Davenport Babcock

This is my Father's world: O let me ne'er forget That though the wrong Seems oft so strong, God is the Ruler yet. — © Maltbie Davenport Babcock
This is my Father's world: O let me ne'er forget That though the wrong Seems oft so strong, God is the Ruler yet.
Though lust do masque in ne'er so strange disguise she's oft found witty, but is never wise.
"There is no God," the foolish saith, But none, "There is no sorrow." And nature oft the cry of faith In bitter need will borrow: Eyes which the preacher could not school, By wayside graves are raised; And lips say, "God be pitiful," Who ne'er said, "God be praised."
I ne'er could any lustre see In eyes that would not look on me; I ne'er saw nectar on a lip But where my own did hope to sip.
True wit is nature to advantage dressed; What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed.
Such night in England ne'er had been, nor ne'er again shall be.
Alas! the praise given to the ear Ne'er was nor ne'er can be sincere.
I want a warm and faithful friend, To cheer the adverse hour; Who ne'er to flatter will descend, Nor bend the knee to power,- A friend to chide me when I'm wrong, My inmost soul to see; And that my friendship prove as strong For him as his for me.
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
Wouldst thou wisely, and with pleasure, Pass the days of life's short measure, From the slow one counsel take, But a tool of him ne'er make; Ne'er as friend the swift one know, Nor the constant one as foe.
But in the hero ne'er forget the man.
Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
Tis strange the miser should his cares employTo gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy;Is it less strange the prodigal should wasteHis wealth to purchase what he ne'er can taste?
Forgiveness to the injured does belong; but they ne'er pardon who have done wrong.
Women are not In their best fortunes strong, but want will perjure the ne'er-touched vestal.
And lips say “God be pitiful,” Who ne'er said “God be praised.”
My family was very poor. Strangely, though, my father was an enigma in that he was always working. He was not a ne'er-do-well. He wasn't lazy. He just couldn't hold on to money. It just, it was an enigma for him. He just, his pockets were always empty.
This site uses cookies to ensure you get the best experience. More info...
Got it!