FastSaying
She walks--the lady of my delight-- A sheperdess of sheep. Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white; She guards them from the steep. She feeds them on the fragrant height, And folds them in for sleep.
Alice Meynell
Sheep
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She walks - the lady of my delight - / A shepherdess of sheep.
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Our fathers valued change for the sake of its results; we value it in the act.
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Spirit of place! It is for this we travel, to surprise its subtlety; and where it is a strong and dominant angel, that place, seen once, abides entire in the memory with all its own accidents, its habits, its breath, its name.
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Let a man turn to his own childhood -- no further -- if he will renew his sense of remoteness, and of the mystery of change.
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If there is a look of human eyes that tells of perpetual loneliness, so there is also the familiar look that is the sign of perpetual crowds.
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