Quotes
Quotes about Heaven
Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye,
In every gesture dignity and love.
She what was honour knew,
And with obsequious majesty approv'd
My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower
I led her blushing like the morn; all heaven
And happy constellations on that hour
Shed their selectest influence; the earth
Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill;
Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs
Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings
Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub.
Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou liv'st
Live well: how long or short permit to heaven.
It were a journey like the path to heaven,
To help you find them.
In those vernal seasons of the year, when the air is calm and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature not to go out and see her riches, and partake in her rejoicing with heaven and earth.
'T is expectation makes a blessing dear;
Heaven were not heaven if we knew what it were.
A happy soul, that all the way
To heaven hath a summer's day.
And heaven had wanted one immortal song.
Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense
Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.
Our vows are heard betimes! and Heaven takes care
To grant, before we can conclude the prayer:
Preventing angels met it half the way,
And sent us back to praise, who came to pray.
So softly death succeeded life in her,
She did but dream of heaven, and she was there.
Since heaven's eternal year is thine.
O gracious God! how far have we
Profan'd thy heavenly gift of poesy!
From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began:
From harmony to harmony
Through all the compass of the notes it ran,
The diapason closing full in Man.
Not heaven itself upon the past has power;
But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.
Nor can his blessed soul look down from heaven,
Or break the eternal sabbath of his rest.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow!
Praise Him, all creatures here below!
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host!
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
O woman! lovely woman! Nature made thee
To temper man: we had been brutes without you.
Angels are painted fair, to look like you:
There's in you all that we believe of heaven,--
Amazing brightness, purity, and truth,
Eternal joy, and everlasting love.
Vows with so much passion, swears with so much grace,
That 't is a kind of heaven to be deluded by him.
Soft peace she brings; wherever she arrives
She builds our quiet as she forms our lives;
Lays the rough paths of peevish Nature even,
And opens in each heart a little heaven.
Heaven is not always angry when he strikes,
But most chastises those whom most he likes.
If Heaven had looked upon riches to be a valuable thing, it would not have given them to such a scoundrel.
Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned,
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.
It must be so,--Plato, thou reasonest well!
Else whence this pleasing hope, this fond desire,
This longing after immortality?
Or whence this secret dread and inward horror
Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul
Back on herself, and startles at destruction?
'T is the divinity that stirs within us;
'T is Heaven itself that points out an hereafter,
And intimates eternity to man.
Eternity! thou pleasing, dreadful thought!
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
