Monday, October 24, 2016

Throw your soul to the light of reason & knowledge by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Sweep up the debris of decaying faith;
Sweep down the cobwebs of worn-out out beliefs,
And throw your soul wide open to the light
of reason and of knowledge.

Be not afraid
To thrust aside half-truths and grasp the whole.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox

On love by Oscar Wilde

Love will fly if held too lightly
Love will die if held too tightly.
Oscar Wilde

Friday, October 21, 2016

A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever by John Keats & other poems of life & Romanticism

Michel Pépé - Elixir d'Amour - Retrouvailles

A Thing of Beauty is a Joy Forever
by John Keats
Excerpt:Endymion:A Poetic Romance

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,

Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heard or read:
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.

Nor do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast
That, whether there be shine or gloom o'ercast,
They always must be with us, or we die.

From Ode on a Grecian Urn
John Keats

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearièd,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Wherein lies happiness?

Yet my higher hope Is of too wide,
too rainbow-large a scope,
To fret at myriads of earthly wrecks.

Wherein lies happiness? In that which becks
Our ready minds to fellowship divine,
A fellowship with essence; till we shine,
Full alchemiz’d, and free of space. Behold
The clear religion of heaven!
John Keats,Endymion

Wednesday, October 19, 2016


As I thought of these things, I drew aside the curtains and looked
out into the darkness, and it seemed to my troubled fancy that all
those little points of light filling the sky were the furnaces
of innumerable divine alchemists, who labour continually, turning
lead into gold, weariness into ecstasy, bodies into souls,
the darkness into God; and at their perfect labour my mortality
grew heavy, and I cried out, as so many dreamers and men of letters
in our age have cried, for the birth of that elaborate spiritual
beauty which could alone uplift souls weighted with so many dreams.
William Butler Yeats,Rosa Alchemica


Life is short, Break the Rules.
Forgive quickly, Kiss SLOWLY.
Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably
And never regret ANYTHING
That makes you smile.
Mark Twain

Tuesday, October 18, 2016

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