Peacefully the quiet stars came out, one after one;
The holy twilight fell upon the sea,
The Summer day was done.
--Celia Thaxter
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
After all
You were never really there,
and I never really met you;
I dreamed you--
though you seemed so very real.
There is nothing to remember,
so why can't I forget you?
Why do I feel you near
when you were never there?
and I never really met you;
I dreamed you--
though you seemed so very real.
There is nothing to remember,
so why can't I forget you?
Why do I feel you near
when you were never there?
Thursday, August 19, 2010
The waxing moon
Nothing that is can pause or stay;
The moon will wax, the moon will wane,
The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
The rain to mist and cloud again,
Tomorrow be today.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The moon will wax, the moon will wane,
The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
The rain to mist and cloud again,
Tomorrow be today.
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Sweet
“Sweet the coming on
Of grateful evening mild; then silent night
With this her solemn bird and this fair moon,
And these the gems of heaven, her starry train.”
--John Milton
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Feet of Clay
trying to hide them--
those feet of clay.
But it's too late:
I've seen them.
No, I won't run away.
But it's too late:
I've seen them.
No, I won't run away.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Wherever you are
Where are you, my childhood friend?
Lost and alone, or safe and warm?
Out of harm's way? Oh, may it be so!
You are gone from sight, and yet
each night I pray that you
sleep peacefully
beneath moon and stars
wherever you are.
Lost and alone, or safe and warm?
Out of harm's way? Oh, may it be so!
You are gone from sight, and yet
each night I pray that you
sleep peacefully
beneath moon and stars
wherever you are.
Books
“For books are more than books, they are the life, the very heart and core of ages past, the reason why men lived and worked and died, the essence and quintessence of their lives.”
--Amy Lowell
Friday, August 6, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
At the Twilight Hour
A soft, sweet fragrance in the air
Of dew-wet flowers. Everywhere
A tender, restful silence lies,
Born of the misty, distant skies;
Whence twilight shadows slowly fall,
Like gauzy curtains, over all.
The meadows stretch so mistily,
Far as my longing eyes can see;
And yonder forest hides away
In its own darkness from the day;
And tinkling cow-bells ring in time
To yonder streamlet's slumbrous chime;
And o'er sweet Nature's paling face
Night letteth down her veil apace.
-- Mary Dow Brine (1816-1913)
Of dew-wet flowers. Everywhere
A tender, restful silence lies,
Born of the misty, distant skies;
Whence twilight shadows slowly fall,
Like gauzy curtains, over all.
The meadows stretch so mistily,
Far as my longing eyes can see;
And yonder forest hides away
In its own darkness from the day;
And tinkling cow-bells ring in time
To yonder streamlet's slumbrous chime;
And o'er sweet Nature's paling face
Night letteth down her veil apace.
-- Mary Dow Brine (1816-1913)
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Monday, August 2, 2010
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