Eternity
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the wingâ—¦ed life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sun rise.
William Blake
Eternity
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the wingâ—¦ed life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sun rise.
William Blake
All Hushed and Still within the House
All hushed and still within the house;
Without - all wind and driving rain;
But something whispers to my mind,
Through rain and through the wailing wind,
Never again.
Never again? Why not again?
Memory has power as real as thine.
Emily Bronte
A Clear Midnight
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
The fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes
thou lovest best.
Night, sleep, and the stars.
Walt Whitman
Autumn
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown,
The berry's cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown,
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I'll put a trinket on.
a poem by John Walton (fl. ca. 1410)
Now cometh all ye that been y-brought
In bonds full of busy bitterness,
Of earthly lusts abiding in your thought!
Here is the rest from all your business,
Here is the port of peace and restfulness
To them that stand in storms and disease,
Refuge overt to wretches in distress,
And all comfort from mischief and misease.
Vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat incohare longam
They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,
Love and desire and hate:
I think they have no portion in us after
We pass the gate.
They are not long, the days of wine and roses:
Out of a misty dream
Our path emerges for a while, then closes
Within a dream.
The Annunciation
(For Helen Parry Eden)
“Hail Mary, full of grace,” the Angel saith.
Our Lady bows her head, and is ashamed;
She has a Bridegroom Who may not be named,
Her mortal flesh bears Him Who conquers death.
Now in the dust her spirit grovelleth;
Too bright a Sun before her eyes has flamed,
Too fair a herald joy too high proclaimed,
And human lips have trembled in God’s breath.
O Mother-Maid, thou art ashamed to cover
With thy white self, whereon no stain can be,
Thy God, Who came from Heaven to be thy Lover,
Thy God, Who came from Heaven to dwell in thee.
About thy head celestial legions hover,
Chanting the praise of thy humility.