I have of late--but wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth,
forgone all custom of exercises; and indeed, it goes so heavily
with my disposition that this goodly frame the earth seems to me
a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy, the air, look
you, this brave o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof
fretted with golden fire--why, it appeareth nothing to me but a
foul and pestilent congregation of vapors.
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A certain recluse, I know not who, once said that no bonds attached him to this life, and the only read more
A certain recluse, I know not who, once said that no bonds attached him to this life, and the only thing he would regret leaving was the sky.
Sometimes gentle, sometimes capricious, sometimes awful, never
the same for two months together; almost human in its passions,
read more
Sometimes gentle, sometimes capricious, sometimes awful, never
the same for two months together; almost human in its passions,
almost spiritual in its tenderness, almost Divine in its
infinity.
Heaven's ebon vault,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
read more
Heaven's ebon vault,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,
Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which love has spread
To curtain her sleeping world.
He answered and said unto them, When it is evening, ye say, It
will be fair weather: for the read more
He answered and said unto them, When it is evening, ye say, It
will be fair weather: for the sky is red.
And in the morning, It will be foul weather to day: for the sky
is red and lowring. O ye hypocrites, ye can discern the face of
the sky; but can ye not discern the signs of the times?
"Darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,"
As some one somewhere sings about the sky.
"Darkly, deeply, beautifully blue,"
As some one somewhere sings about the sky.
I go back to those who say: what if the heavens fall?
[Lat., Redeo ad illes qui aiunt: quid read more
I go back to those who say: what if the heavens fall?
[Lat., Redeo ad illes qui aiunt: quid si coelum ruat?]
The sky
is that beautiful old parchment
in which the sun
and the moon
read more
The sky
is that beautiful old parchment
in which the sun
and the moon
keep their diary.
And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky,
Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die,
Lift not read more
And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky,
Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die,
Lift not your hands to it for help--for it
As impotently moves as you or I.
