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1. black
2. grey
3. blue
4. red
5. brown
6. white

And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens, Are singing the selfsame strain.

Bayard Taylor

Related Topics

PainSeaWind

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  Really,’ thought I, ‘we call Baltimore the ‘Monumental City’ for its two marble columns, and here is Edinburg with one at every street-corner!

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  Melrose is the finest remaining specimen of Gothic architecture in Scotland. Some of the sculptured flowers in the cloister arches are remarkably beautiful and delicate, and the two windows – the south and east oriels – are of a lightness and grace of execution really surprising.

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  Learn to live, and live to learn, Ignorance like a fire doth burn, Little tasks make large return.

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  The stream from Wisdom’s well, Which God supplies, is inexhaustible.

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  London has the advantage of one of the most gloomy atmospheres in the world.

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  The loving are the daring.

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  Pansies in soft April rains Fill their stalks with honeyed sap Drawn from Earth’s prolific lap.

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  Higher than the perfect song For which love longeth, Is the tender fear of wrong, That never wrongeth.

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  And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens, Are singing the selfsame strain.

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  Labor, you know, is prayer.

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  So far as female beauty is concerned, the Circassian women have no superiors. They have preserved in their mountain home the purity of the Grecian models, and still display the perfect physical loveliness, whose type has descended to us in the Venus de Medici.

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• 

  Departed suns their trails of splendor drew Across departed summers: whispers came From voices, long ago resolved again Into the primeval Silence, and we twain, Ghosts of our present selves, yet still the same, As in a spectral mirror wandered there.

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  The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.

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  The aquilegia sprinkled on the rocks A scarlet rain; the yellow violet Sat in the chariot of its leaves, the phlox Held spikes of purple flame in meadows wet, And all the streams with vernal-scented reed Were fringed, and streaky bellow of miskodeed.

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  And rest, that strengthens unto virtuous deeds, Is one with Prayer.

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  Could one live on the sense of beauty alone, exempt from the necessity of ‘creature comforts,’ a sea-voyage would be delightful.

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