Category: Quote of the Day

Aphorisms, proverbs, wise sayings and other witty, pithy stuff

07MAR2024 – Quote of the Day

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Song of Solomon: 2:10-13, 8: 6-7

 

O voice of the Belovèd!

Thy bride hath heard Thee say,

“Rise up, My love, My fair one,

Arise and come away.

For lo, ’tis past, the winter,

The winter of thy year;

The rain is past and over,

The flowers on earth appear.

 

“And now the time of singing

Is come for every bird;

And over all the country

The turtle dove is heard;

The fig her green fruit ripens,

The vines are in their bloom;

Arise and smell their fragrance;

My love, My fair one, come!”

 

Our Easter Sun is risen!

And yet we slumber long,

And need Thy Dove’s sweet pleading

to waken prayer and song.

Oh breathe upon our deadness,

Oh shine upon our gloom;

Lord, let us feel Thy presence

And rise and live and bloom.

Jackson Mason

06MAR2024 – Quote of the Day

photog Quote of the Day ,

Love this poem. I grew up near Gloucester and visited the Statue of the Man at the Wheel many times. –  Master Diver

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Sea-Fever

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

 

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

 

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

John Masefield

03MAR2024 – Quote of the Day

photog Quote of the Day ,

The Mover to the Glow-worms

 

Ye living lamps, by whose dear light

The nightingale does sit so late

And studying all the summer night

Her matchless songs does meditate;

 

Ye country comets, that portend

No war, nor prince’s funeral,

Shining unto no higher end

Than to presage the grasses’s fall;

 

Ye glow-worms whose officious flame

To wandering mowers shows the way,

That in the night have lost their aim

And after foolish fires do stray;

 

Your courteous lights in vain you waste,

Since Juliana here is come,

For she my mind hath so displaced

That I shall never find my home.

 

Andrew Marvell