For as fire is kindled by fire, so is a poet's mind kindled by contact with a brother poet. John Keble More Quotes by John Keble More Quotes From John Keble Peace is the first thing the angels sang. John Keble angel peace firsts And help us, this and every day, to live more nearly as we pray. John Keble praying prayer helping If the Church of England were to fail, it would be found in my parish John Keble england church would-be Once you make up your mind never to stand waiting and hesitating when your conscience tells you what you ought to do, and you have got the key to every blessing that a sinner can reasonably hope for. John Keble keys blessing waiting When you find yourself overpowered, as it were, by melancholy, the best way is to go out and do something. John Keble self-pity finding-yourself way Blest are the pure in heart, for they shall see our God. The secret of the Lord is theirs; Their soul is Christ's abode. John Keble soul secret heart Give us grace to listen well. John Keble grace listening giving When the shore is won at last, Who will count the billow past? John Keble lasts success past New every morning is the love Our waking and uprising prove, Through sleep and darkness safely brought, Restored to life and power and thought. John Keble sleep morning life Why should we faint and fear to live alone,Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we die?Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own,Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh. John Keble solitude heart heaven God hath sworn to lift on high Who sinks himself by true humility. John Keble true-humility lifts humility Love masters agony; the soul that seemed John Keble agony father death Sprinkled along the waste of years Full many a soft green isle appears: Pause where we may upon the desert road, Some shelter is in sight, some sacred safe abode. John Keble sight islands years Sun of my soul! Thou Saviour dear, It is not night if Thou be near. John Keble soul night jesus Thou art the Sun of other days. John Keble easter giving art Sweet is the smile of home; the mutual look when hearts are of each other sure. John Keble home heart sweet Abide with me from morn to eve, / For without Thee I cannot live: / Abide with me when night is nigh. / For without Thee I dare not die. John Keble abiding thee night The deeds we do, the words we say,Into still air they seem to fleet;We count them ever past;But they shall last -In the dread judgment theyAnd we shall meet. John Keble deeds air past Sweet is the infant's waking smile, And sweet the old man's rest-- But middle age by no fond wile, No soothing calm is blest. John Keble age sweet men The trivial round, the common task,Would furnish all we ought to ask. John Keble ought tasks common
