King Arthur Movie Tristan

THE SUN just touched the morning;

The morning, happy thing,

Supposed that he had come to dwell,

And life would be all spring.



She felt herself supremer,—

A raised, ethereal thing;

Henceforth for her what holiday!

Meanwhile, her wheeling king



Trailed slow along the orchards

His haughty, spangled hems,

Leaving a new necessity,—

The want of diadems!



The morning fluttered, staggered,

Felt feebly for her crown,—

Her unanointed forehead

Henceforth her only one.



-Emily Dickinson













This concludes my Lake George Wordless Wednesday posts. I do miss this place!

I KNOW a place where summer strives

With such a practised frost,

She each year leads her daisies back,

Recording briefly, “Lost.”



But when the south wind stirs the pools

And struggles in the lanes,

Her heart misgives her for her vow,

And she pours soft refrains



Into the lap of adamant,

And spices, and the dew,

That stiffens quietly to quartz,

Upon her amber shoe.

-Emily Dickinson













These photos were taken at Prospect Mountain in Lake George.

There is no frigate like a book

To take us lands away,

Nor any coursers like a page

Of prancing poetry.

This traverse may the poorest take

Without oppress of toll;

How frugal is the chariot

That bears a human soul!

-Emily Dickinson




art by j.wall




Enjoy your weekend everyone ;)

IT dropped so low in my regard


I heard it hit the ground,


And go to pieces on the stones


At bottom of my mind;





Yet blamed the fate that fractured, less


Than I reviled myself


For entertaining plated wares


Upon my silver shelf.





-Emily Dickinson






art by j.w. waterhouse


-------------------




Happy Friday everyone.

I figued I'd start the weekend off with a favorite poet.
I think the entire poem is lovely in such a simple way. Emily Dickinson had a way of creating beautiful imagery with her work.




On another note, it seems Blogger was having issues today. It does look like things are back to normal now. I did notice some of the comments on my last post have disappeared.

I'll be blog hopping this weekend as well as catching up on my reading and reviewing.
This past week I read When No One is Watching and thoroughly enjoyed it. My review will be up this coming week. My goal for this weekend is to finish at least one other book. I don't know which one yet, but wish me luck.





What are you up to this weekend? Whatever it is, enjoy it :)

He touched me, so I live to know

That such a day, permitted so,

I groped upon his breast.

It was a boundless place to me,

And silenced, as the awful sea

Puts minor streams to rest.



And now, I ’m different from before,

As if I breathed superior air,

Or brushed a royal gown;

My feet, too, that had wandered so,

My gypsy face transfigured now

To tenderer renown.

-Emily Dickinson


art by j. w. waterhouse


--------------------------

THE SKIES can’t keep their secret!

They tell it to the hills—

The hills just tell the orchards—

And they the daffodils!



A bird, by chance, that goes that way

Soft overheard the whole.

If I should bribe the little bird,

Who knows but she would tell?



I think I won’t, however,

It’s finer not to know;

If summer were an axiom,

What sorcery had snow?



So keep your secret, Father!

I would not, if I could,

Know what the sapphire fellows do,

In your new-fashioned world!


-Emily Dickinson



---------------


I took this photo a couple of weekends ago on a family outing to a mountain in Upstate NY. I love how the trees are reflected in the water.



I also wanted to wish my blogging friends in the U.S. a Happy Thanksgiving!!

I am thankful for so many things, including your friendship. Enjoy your day, may it be full of family, friends, many blessings and happy memories.


I won't be posting again till next week. I'll be back with a book review by Monday the latest :O)

THE MOUNTAIN sat upon the plain

In his eternal chair,

His observation omnifold,

His inquest everywhere.




The seasons prayed around his knees,

Like children round a sire:

Grandfather of the days is he,

Of dawn the ancestor.




-Emily Dickinson





---------------------


I took these photos last weekend on an outing to a mountain in Upstate New York. We were up on the mountain and watched the sunset. It was really a sight to see and it was the perfect Fall day.

I took the photos above just as the sun was setting. We also saw a family of deer, but as luck would have it, the battery died on my camera.

This mountain overlooks the Hudson River Valley and Hessian Lake. This is the view from the top. I love how the foliage has turned beautiful shades of orange, red and burgundy.









*next wednesday I will post another photo from our mountain outing*

That I did always love

I bring thee Proof

That till I loved

I never lived—Enough—




That I shall love alway

I argue thee

That love is life

And life hath Immortality




This, dost thou doubt, sweet?

Then have I

Nothing to show

But Calvary.




-Emily Dickinson


painting is called Wisteria Moon and is by josephine wall

I have no life but this,

To lead it here;

Nor any death, but lest

Dispelled from there;



Nor tie to earths to come,

Nor action new,

Except through this extent,

The realm of you.

-Emily Dickinson



art by J. Wall

PROUD of my broken heart since thou didst break it,

Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,

Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it,

Not to partake thy passion, my humility.





-Emily Dickinson


art by j. w. waterhouse

He touched me, so I live to know

That such a day, permitted so,

I groped upon his breast.

It was a boundless place to me,

And silenced, as the awful sea

Puts minor streams to rest.



And now, I ’m different from before,

As if I breathed superior air,

Or brushed a royal gown;

My feet, too, that had wandered so,

My gypsy face transfigured now

To tenderer renown.

-Emily Dickinson


art by j. w. waterhouse


--------------------------

This is one of my favorite Emily Dickinson poems. To me, 'He touched me, so I live to know' is about love changing you, in this case for the better.

'And now, I ’m different from before,

As if I breathed superior air,

Or brushed a royal gown'

And if you are changed, and can never be the same again. That can be a good thing or a bad thing, it depends on if the love was true or not.

Happy Friday everyone. I hope you all enjoy your weekend. Have any plans for Valentine's Day? I'll leave you with one of my favorite Emily Dickinson poems.






If you were coming in the fall,

I'd brush the summer by

With half a smile and half a spurn,

As housewives do a fly.

If I could see you in a year,

I'd wind the months in balls,

And put them each in separate drawers,

Until their time befalls.



If only centuries delayed,

I'd count them on my hand,

Subtracting till my fingers dropped

Into Van Diemens land.



If certain, when this life was out,

That yours and mine should be,

I'd toss it yonder like a rind,

And taste eternity.



But now, all ignorant of the length

Of time's uncertain wing,

It goads me, like the goblin bee,

That will not state its sting.


-Emily Dickinson



artwork is by john william godward

Desire


WHO never wanted, — maddest joy

Remains to him unknown:

The banquet of abstemiousness

Surpasses that of wine.


Within its hope, though yet ungrasped

Desire's perfect goal,

No nearer, lest reality

Should disenthrall thy soul.

-Emily Dickinson

The moon is distant from the sea,

And yet with amber hands

She leads him, docile as a boy,

Along appointed sands.



He never misses a degree;

Obedient to her eye,

He comes just so far toward the town,

Just so far goes away.



Oh, Signor, thine the amber hand,

And mine the distant sea, --

Obedient to the least command

Thine eyes impose on me.



-Emily Dickinson




art by jw waterhouse

I have no life but this,

To lead it here;

Nor any death, but lest

Dispelled from there;



Nor tie to earths to come,

Nor action new,

Except through this extent,

The realm of you.

-Emily Dickinson



art by http://www.johnwilliamgodward.org/

If you were coming in the fall,


I ’d brush the summer by


With half a smile and half a spurn,


As housewives do a fly.





If I could see you in a year,


I ’d wind the months in balls,


And put them each in separate drawers,

Until their time befalls.



If only centuries delayed,

I ’d count them on my hand,

Subtracting till my fingers dropped

Into Van Diemen’s land.



If certain, when this life was out,

That yours and mine should be,

I ’d toss it yonder like a rind,

And taste eternity.



But now, all ignorant of the length

Of time’s uncertain wing,

It goads me, like the goblin bee,

That will not state its sting.

-Emily Dickinson



artwork is titled Dolce Far Niente Art and is by John William Godward

He touched me, so I live to know

That such a day, permitted so,

I groped upon his breast.

It was a boundless place to me,

And silenced, as the awful sea

Puts minor streams to rest.



And now, I ’m different from before,

As if I breathed superior air,

Or brushed a royal gown;

My feet, too, that had wandered so,

My gypsy face transfigured now

To tenderer renown

-Emily Dickinson



art by Waterhouse

Heart, we will forget him!

You an I, tonight!

You may forget the warmth he gave,

I will forget the light.



When you have done, pray tell me

That I my thoughts may dim;

Haste! lest while you're lagging.

I may remember him!


-Emily Dickinson

There is no frigate like a book



To take us lands away,


Nor any coursers like a page


Of prancing poetry.


This traverse may the poorest take


Without oppress of toll;


How frugal is the chariot


That bears a human soul!

-Emily Dickinson

I have no life but this,

To lead it here;

Nor any death, but lest

Dispelled from there;



Nor tie to earths to come,

Nor action new,

Except through this extent,

The realm of you.

-Emily Dickinson



art by J. Wall