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Between our eastward and our westward sea
The narrowing strand
Clasps close the noblest shore fame holds in fee
Even here where English birth seals all men free
Northumberland.The sea-mists meet across it when the snow
Clothes moor and fell,
And bid their true-born hearts who love it glow
For joy that none less nobly born may know
What love knows well.The splendour and the strength of storm and fight
Sustain the song
That filled our fathers’ hearts with joy to smite,
To live, to love, to lay down life that right
Might tread down wrong.They warred, they sang, they triumphed, and they passed,
And left us glad
Here to be born, their sons, whose hearts hold fast
The proud old love no change can overcast,
No chance leave sad.None save our northmen ever, none but we,
Met, pledged, or fought
Such foes and friends as Scotland and the sea
With heart so high and equal, strong in glee
And stern in thought.Thought, fed from time’s memorial springs with pride,
Made strong as fire
Their hearts who hurled the foe down Flodden side,
And hers who rode the waves none else durst ride
None save her sire.O land beloved, where nought of legend’s dream
Outshines the truth,
Where Joyous Gard, closed round with clouds that gleam
For them that know thee not, can scarce but seem
Too sweet for sooth,
Thy sons forget not, nor shall fame forget,
The deed there done
Before the walls whose fabled fame is yet
A light too sweet and strong to rise and set
With moon and sun.Song bright as flash of swords or oars that shine
Through fight or foam
Stirs yet the blood thou hast given thy sons like wine
To hail in each bright ballad hailed as thine
One heart, one home.Our Collingwood, though Nelson be not ours,
By him shall stand
Immortal, till those waifs of oldworld hours,
Forgotten, leave uncrowned with bays and flowers
Northumberland.Northumberland ~ Algernon Charles Swinburne
Also:
The more a man cultivates the arts, the less often he gets an erection.
He creates a more and more perceptible divorce between the spirit and the brute.
Only the brute gets really good erections, and copulation is the lyricism of the masses.
To copulate is to aspire to enter into another – and the artist never emerges from himself.
I’ve forgotten that slut’s name . . . Oh, well, I’ll be reminded of it on the Day of Judgement.Intimate Journals ~ Charles Baudelaire
Life is a journey.
Death is a return to earth.
The universe is like an inn.
The passing years are like dust.
Regard this phantom world
As a star at dawn, a bubble in a stream,
A flash of lightning in a summer cloud,
A flickering lamp – a phantom – and a dream.Buddha
Touched by An Angel by Maya Angelou
We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a womanPhenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.I know why the caged bird sings by Maya Angelou
A free bird leaps on the back
Of the wind and floats downstream
Till the current ends and dips his wing
In the orange suns rays
And dares to claim the sky.But a BIRD that stalks down his narrow cage
Can seldom see through his bars of rage
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.The caged bird sings with a fearful trill
Of things unknown but longed for still
And his tune is heard on the distant hill for
The caged bird sings of freedom.The free bird thinks of another breeze
And the trade winds soft through
The sighing trees
And the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright
Lawn and he names the sky his own.But a caged BIRD stands on the grave of dreams
His shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
His wings are clipped and his feet are tied
So he opens his throat to sing.The caged bird sings with
A fearful trill of things unknown
But longed for still and his
Tune is heard on the distant hill
For the caged bird sings of freedom.No worst, there is none
“No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief,
More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring.
Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?
My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief
Woe, world-sorrow; on an age-old anvil wince and sing –
Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked ‘No ling-
-ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief’.O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne’er hung there. Nor does long our small
Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,
Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all
Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.”Gerard Manley Hopkins.
This is one of many verses from Patience Strong, who used to write daily for the Daily Mirror in a section called the “Quiet Corner” way back in the mid 30’s.
The Visitor
Hush,hush,hush, there’s a step upon the stair
and if i close my eyes i seem to feel somebody there
Her face is lovely as a flower, her dress is like a cloud
If only i could get to her, I hate this stupid crowd
their silly faces hem me in, they laugh and dance and shout
I’m trapped i can’t get outAnd all the time i know that someone’s waiting on the stair
so still, so quiet with starlight in her hair
She calls to me, she breathes my name, she whispers secretly
She speaks of love and happy things and Death’s sweet mystery
She often comes like this, yet when i seek her, she’s not there
There’s nothing but a shaft of moonlight gleaming on the stairSparrow
I like the flashy robin with his smart gay scarlet vest
I like the bluetits and the wrens, the lapwings and the rest,
I like their fancy jackets and theit caps and ruffles too,
but, little sparrow on the fence, my favourite bird is you!Dressed in your drab and sober garb, you hop along the path
Snubbed by the presumptious birds who scare you from your bath
Your just a ragamuffin, just a common thing,
a shabby coated outcast, why, you cannot even sing !And yet you are my favourite, with your simple friendly ways
Your faithful too, you stay with me through all the winter days
You may be plain and homely,but you need not be afraid,
God cares for you as much as for the other birds he madeFed by the bounty of his love
you live your tiny span
Content to be the humblest
in his vast and perfect plan.Patience Strong
Beauty Hint
We keep our shoes all spick and span (it’s nice to see smart feet)
We always see that clothes are brushed, we must look trim and neat!
We wash our gloves religiously(thats if they are cream or white)
There musn’t be a spot on them if we would look just right…
We have our shampoo once a week and keep our waves in place
we buy the latest creams and perfumed powder for the face
We do our exercises just to keep ourselves in trim
and cut out cakes and chocolate in the hope of getting slim!
We spwnd our time and money keeping up that certain style
But none of it is any use, unless we wear a smile!
It’s more important than the most expensive sort of hat
And strange to say it doesn’t cost a bean
Imagine that !!Patience Strong
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