Where the voice of the wind calls our wandering feet, Through echoing forest and echoing street, With lutes in our hands ever-singing we roam, All men are our kindred, the world is our home. Our lays are of cities whose lustre is shed, The laughter and beauty of women long dead; The sword of old battles, the crown of old kings, And happy and simple and sorrowful things. What hope shall we gather, what dreams shall we sow? Where the wind calls our wandering footsteps we go. No love bids us tarry, no joy bids us wait: The voice of the wind is the voice of our fate.
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The king-times are fast finishing. There will be blood shed like water, and tears like mist; but the peoples will conquer in the end. I shall not live to see it, but I foresee it.
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Wars throughout history have been waged for conquest and plunder.... the working class who fight all the battles, the working class who make the supreme sacrifices, the working class who freely shed their blood and furnish their corpses, have never yet had a voice in either declaring war or making peace. It is the ruling class that invariably does both. They alone declare war and they alone make peace....They are continually talking about their patriotic duty. It is not their but your patriotic duty that they are concerned about. There is a decided difference. Their patriotic duty never takes them to the firing line or chucks them into the trenches.
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On September 17, 1914, Erzberger, the well-known German statesman, an eminent member of the Catholic Party, wrote to the Minister of War, General von Falkenhayn, We must not worry about committing an offence against the rights of nations nor about violating the laws of humanity. Such feelings today are of secondary importance? A month later, on October 21, 1914, he wrote in Der Tag, If a way was found of entirely wiping out the whole of London it would be more humane to employ it than to allow the blood of A SINGLE GERMAN SOLDIER to be shed on the battlefield!
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If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness, In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.
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I cannot bear it! said the pewter soldier. I have shed pewter tears! It is too melancholy! Rather let me go to the wars and lose arms and legs! It would at least be a change. I cannot bear it longer! Now, I know what it is to have a visit from one's old thoughts, with what they may bring with them! I have had a visit from mine, and you may be sure it is no pleasant thing in the end; I was at last about to jump down from the drawers.
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The dancing pair that simply sought renown,By holding out to tire each other downThe swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the placeThe bashful virgin's side-long looks of love,The matrons glance that would those looks reproveThese were thy charms, sweet village sports like these,With sweet succession, taught e'en toil to pleaseThese were thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms -- but all these charms are fled.
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If we must die, O let us nobly die, So that our precious blood may not be shed...
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At the center of each human heart is goodness, layered over with hurt, confusion, and mistaken ideas. Our task is to gently peel off layer after layer until the unfettered heart can shed its love upon the world.
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M-O-T-H-E-RM is for the million things she gave me,O means only that she's growing old,T is for the tears she shed to save me,H is for her heart of purest goldE is for her eyes, with love-light shining,R means right, and right she'll always be,Put them all together, they spell MOTHER,A word that means the world to me.
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M-O-T-H-E-R M is for the million things she gave me, O means only that she's growing old, T is for the tears she shed to save me, H is for her heart of purest gold; E is for her eyes, with love-light shining, R means right, and right she'll always be, Put them all together, they spell MOTHER, A word that means the world to me.
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The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.
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It is in the battery shed that we find the parallel with Auschwitz....To shut your mind, heart and imagination from the sufferings of others is to begin slowly, but inexorably, to die. Those Christians who close their minds and hearts to the cause of animal welfare, and the evils it seeks to combat, are ignoring the Fundamental spiritual teachings of Christ himself.
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In the love of a brave and faithful man there is always a strain of maternal tenderness; he gives out again those beams of protecting fondness which were shed on him as he lay on his mother's knee
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Yet I'll not shed her blood, Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow, And smooth as monumental alabaster.
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As long as people will shed the blood of innocent creatures there can be no peace, no liberty, no harmony between people. Slaughter and justice cannot dwell together.
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Today, as in the Gilded Age, we live in a world where a morality of personal responsibility rubs shoulders with a culture of greed and of flagrant social irresponsibility. Now as then, business has shed its collective responsibility for employees - just as government has for its citizens.
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As to the history of the revolution, my ideas may be peculiar, perhaps singular. What do we mean by the revolution? The war? That was no part of the revolution; it was only an effect and consequence of it. The revolution was in the minds of the people, and this was effected from 1760 to 1775, in the course of fifteen years, before a drop of blood was shed at Lexington.
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You've got to make a conscious choice every day to shed the old - whatever 'the old' means for you.
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Matt shed off a few strokes, and it's an improvement from John Ryan's 110 (Thursday). Overall, I was happy.
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The dearest events are summer-rain, and we the Para coats that shed every drop. Nothing is left us now but death. We look to that with grim sa...
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We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us. The old skin has to be shed before the new one can come.
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Comfort ye, my people speak ye peace, thus saith our God. Comfort those who sit in darkness, mourning 'neath their sorrow's load. For the glory of the Lord now o'er earth is shed abroad and all flesh shall see the token that His word is never broken.
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Time engraves our faces with all the tears we have not shed.
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For us, freedom of expression is at the core of our democracy, and it is something that we have shed blood for and treasure.
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Once in royal David's city Stood a lowly cattle shed, Where a Mother laid her Baby In a manger for His bed: Mary was that Mother mild, Jesus Christ her little Child.
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In the world of birds, ruffled feathers is one sign of a virus. Isnt that also the case at work or home? Infected birds shed the virus by exhaling and excreting. Humans do it through gossip and anger. Both are contagious. Dont be a carrier!
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Coke and Blackstone hardly shed so much light into obscure spiritual places as the Hebrew prophets.
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If a thousand men were not to pay their tax-bills this year, that would not be a violent and bloody measure, as it would be to pay them, and enable the State to commit violence and shed innocent blood. This is, in fact, the definition of a peaceable revolution, if any such is possible.
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Genesis 9:6:
'Whoever sheds human blood, by human beings shall their blood be shed; for in the image of God has God made humankind.'
(NIV)
Whoever sheds man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed; for in the image of God He made man.
(AMP)
Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed: for in the image of God made he man.
(KJV)
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