Have courage for the great sorrows in life and patience for the small ones; and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily tasks, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.
~Victor Hugo.
~Victor Hugo.
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Bodiam Castle, England
Photo : Bruno Monginoux / www.Landscape-Photo.net (cc-by-nc-nd)
Photo : Bruno Monginoux / www.Landscape-Photo.net (cc-by-nc-nd)
I wish to wander,
I wish to roam:
By forest and meadow,
Silver and emerald,
By tree and field,
Lovely and bright.
Many a place I'd like to see,
Many a place I long go:
By village and brook ,
Small and fair,
By castle and river,
Noble and grand.
I wish to wander,
I wish to roam,
For many a place I long to see.
~ Sileas MacNab
I wish to roam:
By forest and meadow,
Silver and emerald,
By tree and field,
Lovely and bright.
Many a place I'd like to see,
Many a place I long go:
By village and brook ,
Small and fair,
By castle and river,
Noble and grand.
I wish to wander,
I wish to roam,
For many a place I long to see.
~ Sileas MacNab
Bodiam Castle, England
The Brook
By: Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally,
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret
by many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I wind about, and in and out,
with here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silver water-break
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses;
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
By: Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally,
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorps, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret
by many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I wind about, and in and out,
with here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silver water-break
Above the golden gravel,
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses;
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
Photo : Bruno Monginoux / www.Landscape-Photo.net (cc-by-nc-nd)
Greetings and welcome to By Castle and River, a small place in The Internet, created by me and, in a way, for me, and devoted to the things that I love. Your comments will be received with joy: I like to know when people love the things I do.
Julie
Julie
Followers
About Me
- Julie
- "I am a little bit more than I was, and I am nothing compared to what I shall be."
Photo : Bruno Monginoux / www.Landscape-Photo.net (cc-by-nc-nd)
7 comments:
It's not from Les Miserables...in case you were wondering. :)
I didn't think it was. :) It's a good quote, though. Hugo was quite a writer.
~ A.K. ~
Hugo was a good writer. But I was kinda bugged the time he killed off half of his characters in one Section. That stank. :)
Maybe he was tired of them. :P
TIRED of them!?!? Oh my. I don't think so, they seemed to have potential... Well, a couple of them needed to die, but not the little boy, NOT THE LITTLE BOY!!! :( He made me cry there.
Yeah, he probably did just get tired of them. Hehe, it makes me think of that girl in Anne of Green gables, who would make up to many people and then kill them all. :)
Yes, that was Diana Barry. I almost mentioned her, but then I remembered that you don't care much for Anne of Green Gables and refrained. :)
~ A.K. ~
Haha! I figured that you had thought of that! ;) Knowing that you DO like AoGG. That was very thoughtful of you, but fan that I'm not, I did think of it. :)
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