You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Failing yet gracious,
Slow pacing, soon homing,
A patriarch that strolls
Through the tents read more
Failing yet gracious,
Slow pacing, soon homing,
A patriarch that strolls
Through the tents of his children,
The sun as he journeys
His round on the lower
Ascents of the blue,
Washes the roofs
And the hillsides with clarity.
The sun, too, shines into cesspools, and is not polluted.
The sun, too, shines into cesspools, and is not polluted.
The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
Let others hail the rising sun:
I bow to that whose course is run.
Let others hail the rising sun:
I bow to that whose course is run.
The sun, centre and sire of light,
The keystone of the world-built arch of heaven.
The sun, centre and sire of light,
The keystone of the world-built arch of heaven.
When the sun sets, shadows, that showed at noon
But small, appear most long and terrible.
When the sun sets, shadows, that showed at noon
But small, appear most long and terrible.
Thou shalt come out of a warme Sunne into God's blessing.
Thou shalt come out of a warme Sunne into God's blessing.
Such words fall to often on our cold and careless ears with the
triteness of long familiarity; but to read more
Such words fall to often on our cold and careless ears with the
triteness of long familiarity; but to Octavia . . . they seemed
to be written in sunbeams.
