Francis Thompson Famous Quotes
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Where is the land of Luthany,
Where is the tract of Elenore?
I am bound therefore.
'Pierce thy heart to find the key;
With thee take
Only what none else would keep;
Learn to dream when thou dost wake;
Learn to wake when thou dost sleep.
Learn to water joy with tears,
Learn from fears to vanquish fears;
To hope, for thou dar'st not despair;
Exult, for that thou dar'st not grieve;
Plough thou the rock until it bear;
Know, for thou else couldst not believe;
Lose, that the lost thou may'st receive;
Die, for none other way canst live.
'When earth and heave lay down their veil,
And that apocalypse turns thee pale;
When thy seeing blindeth thee
To what thy fellow-mortals see;
When their sight to thee is sightless;
Their living, death; their light, most lightless;
Search no more--
Pass the gates of Luthany,
Tread the region Elenore!'
Where is the land of Luthany?
And where the region Elenore?
I do faint therefore.
'When to the new eyes of thee
All things by immortal power,
Near or far,
Hiddenly
To each other linked are,
That thou canst not stir a flower
Without troubling of a star;
When thy song is shield and mirror
To the fair snake curled pain,
Where thou dar'st affront her terror
That on her thou may'st attain
Persean Conquest; seek no more,
O seek no more!
For we are born in others pain, and perish in our own.
Oh invisible, we view thee, O world intangible, we touch thee, o world unknowable, we know thee.
Babies breathe a lot more rapidly than adults do, and what's more, they're also growing quickly and so they're absorbing lots more into the body and they're more fragile in terms of development and so on.
There is no expeditious road To pack and label men for God, And save them by the barrel-load. Some may perchance, with strange surprise, Have blundered into Paradise.
A Corymbus for Autumn
How are the veins of thee, Autumn, laden?
Umbered juices,
And pulpèd oozes
Pappy out of the cherry-bruises,
Froth the veins of thee, wild, wild maiden.
With hair that musters
In globèd clusters,
In tumbling clusters, like swarthy grapes,
Round thy brow and thine ears o'ershaden;
With the burning darkness of eyes like pansies,
Like velvet pansies
Where through escapes
The splendid might of thy conflagrate fancies;
With robe gold-tawny not hiding the shapes
Of the feet whereunto it falleth down,
Thy naked feet unsandalled;
With robe gold-tawny that does not veil
Feet where the red
Is meshed in the brown,
Like a rubied sun in a Venice-sail.
All things by immortal power. Near of far, to each other linked are, that thou canst not stir a flower without troubling of a star.
The innocent moon, that nothing does but shine,Moves all the labouring surges of the world.
Spring is come home with her world-wandering feet, And all things are made young with your desires.
So for thy spirit did devise Its Maker seemly garniture, Of its own essence parcel pure.
From grave simplicities a dress, And reticent demureness, And love encinctured with reserve; Which the woven vesture would subserve. For outward robes in their ostents Should show the soul's habiliments. Therefore I say,
Thou'rt fair even so, But better Fair I use to know.
In all change, well looked into, the germinal good out-veils the apparent ill.
