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This dead of midnight is the noon of thought,
And Wisdom mounts her zenith with the stars.

— Anna Laetitia Barbauld Poems (1773)

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More quotes by Anna Laetitia Barbauld

If an author would have us feel a strong degree of compassion, his characters must not be too perfect.

The Works of Anna Laetitia Barbauld (1825)

Man is the nobler growth our realms supply,
And souls are ripen'd in our northern sky.

Poems (1773)

We may think all religions beneficial, and believe of one alone that it is true.

The Works of Anna Laetitia Barbauld (1825)

Child of mortality, whence comest thou? Why is thy countenance sad, and why are thine eyes red with weeping?

I read his awful name, emblazon'd high
With golden letters on th' illumin'd sky.

Poems (1773)

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