Mary Howitt
Mary Howitt
Mary Howittwas an English poet, and author of the famous poem The Spider and the Fly. She was born Mary Botham at Coleford, in Gloucestershire, the temporary residence of her parents, while her father, Samuel Botham, a prosperous Quaker of Uttoxeter, Staffordshire, was looking after some mining property. Samuel had married his wife Ann in South Wales in 1796 when he was 38 and she was 32. They had four children Anna, Mary, Emma and Charles. Their Queen Anne house...
parlor prettiest spider spy walk
Will you walk into my parlor?" said the Spider to the Fly; "'Tis the prettiest little parlor that ever you did spy
strong blow sea
The wild sea roars and lashes the granite cliffs below,And round the misty islets the loud strong tempests blow.
eye vision
For visions come not to polluted eyes.
children father heart
God sends children for another purpose than merely to keep up the race - to enlarge our hearts; and to make us unselfish and full of kindly sympathies and affection; to give our shoulds higher aims; to call out all our faculties to extended enterprise and exertion and to bring round our firesides bright faces, happy smiles, and loving, tender hearts. My soul blesses the great Father, every day, that he has gladdened the earth with little children
children cheer rain
Roads are wet where'er one wendeth, And with rain the thistle bendeth, And the brook cries like a child! Not a rainbow shines to cheer us; Ah! the sun comes never near us, And the heavens look dark and wile.
deception spy spiders
Will you walk into my parlour? Said the spider to a fly: '"Tis the prettiest little parlour That ever you did spy.
home sea flags
Old England is our home, and Englishmen are we; Our tongue is known in every clime, our flag in every sea.
vain stairs ask-me
To ask me is in vain; For who goes up your winding stair Can ne'er come down again.
beautiful heart humanity
True delicacy, that most beautiful heart-leaf of humanity, exhibits itself most significantly in little things.
children heart race
God sends children for another purpose than merely to keep up the race -- to enlarge our hearts, to make us unselfish, and full of kindly sympathies and affections.
autumn white joy
When on the breath of Autumn's breeze, From pastures dry and brown, Goes floating, like an idle thought, The fair, white thistle-down; O, then what joy to walk at will, Upon the golden harvest-hill!