I THINK that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the sweet earth's flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.
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How the old mountains drip with sunset, And the brake of dun! How the hemlocks are tipped in tinsel By the wizard sun! How the old steeples hand the scarlet, Till the ball is full, -- Have I the lip of the flamingo That I dare to tell? Then, how the fire ebbs like billows, Touching all the grass With a departing, sapphire feature, As if a duchess pass! How a small dusk crawls on the village Till the houses blot; And the odd flambeaux no men carry Glimmer on the spot! Now it is night in nest and kennel, And where was the wood, Just a dome of abyss is nodding Into solitude! -- These are the visions baffled Guido; Titian never told; Domenichino dropped the pencil, Powerless to unfold.
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Frank Well, uh I guess I, deep down, am feeling a little confused. I mean, suddenly, you get married, and you're supposed to be this entirely different guy. I don't feel different. I mean, take yesterday for example. We were out at the Olive Garden for dinner, which was lovely. And uh, I happen to look over at a certain point during the meal and see a waitress taking an order, and I found myself wondering what color her underpants might be. Her panties. Uh, odds are they are probably basic white, cotton, underpants. But I sort of think well maybe they're silk panties, maybe it's a thong. Maybe it's something really cool that I don't even know about. You know, and uh, and I started feeling... what what I thought we were in the trust tree in the nest, were we not
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If I can stop one heart from breaking I shall not live in vain If I can ease on Life the Aching Or cool one pain Or help one fainting Robin Unto his Nest again I shall not live in Vain.
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If I can stop one Heart from breaking I shall not live in vain If I can ease one Life the Aching, or cool one Pain, Or help one fainting Robin into his Nest again, I shall not live in Vain.
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When hearts have one mingled, Love first leaves the well-built nest;...
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Birds in their little nest agree; and 'Tis a shameful sight, when children of one family fall out, and chide, and fight.
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If I can stop one Heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain
If I can ease one Life the Aching,
or cool one Pain,
Or help one fainting Robin
into his Nest again,
I shall not live in Vain.
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The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
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In a broken nest there are few whole eggs.
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Great men are like eagles, and build their nest on some lofty solitude.
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The swallow leaves her nest, The soul my weary breast;
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Temptations, when we first meet them, are like a lion that roared at Samson; but if we overcome them, the next time we see them we shall find a nest of honey within them.
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We need the tonic of wildness, to wade sometimes in marshes where the bittern and the meadow-hen lurk, and hear the booming of the snipe; to smell the whispering sedge where only some wilder and more solitary fowl builds her nest, and the mink crawls with its belly close to the ground.
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Not having known anything better does not alleviate the suffering of the animal. Its fundamental desires remain and it is the frustration of those desires that is a great part of its suffering. There are so many examples: the dairy cow who is never allowed to raise her young, the battery hen who can never walk or stretch her wings, the sow who can never build a nest or root for food in the forest litter, etc. Eventually we frustrate the animal's most fundamental desire of all - to live.
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This face is a dog's snout sniffing for garbage, snakes nest in that mouth, I hear the sibilant threat.
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The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.
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Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, to some good angel leave the rest; For Time will teach thee soon the truth, there are no birds in last year's nest!
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Every human being on this earth is born with a tragedy, and it isn't original sin. He's born with the tragedy that he has to grow up. That he has to leave the nest, the security, and go out to do battle. He has to lose everything that is lovely and fight for a new loveliness of his own making, and it's a tragedy. A lot of people don't have the courage to do it.
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Those who admire the freedom of birds have never built a nest.
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To find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter; to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird's nest or a wildflower in spring - these are some of the rewards of the simple life.
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Wake up with one mind, my friends, and kindle the fire, you many who share the same nest. Make your thoughts harmonious stretch them on the loom make a ship whose oars will carry us across.
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We were all on this ship in the sixties, our generation, a ship going to discover the New World. And the Beatles were in the crow's nest of that ship.
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I could not have slept tonight if I had left that helpless little creature to perish on the ground.' (Reply to friends who chided him for delaying them by stopping to return a fledgling to its nest.)
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God gives every bird its food, but He does not throw it into its nest.
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Success is full of promise till one gets it, and then it seems like a nest from which the bird has flown.
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Sticks and stones may break your bones when there's anger to impart. Spiteful words can hurt your feelings but silence breaks your heart. Anger is as a stone cast into a wasp's nest.
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God gives every bird his worm, but He does not throw it into the nest.
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Anger is as a stone cast into a wasp's nest.
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When I learn something new-and it happens every day-I feel a little more at home in this universe, a little more comfortable in the nest.
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