Quote

Rich meanings of the prophet-Spring adorn, Unseen, this colourless sky of folded showers, And folded winds no blossom in the bowers A poet's face asleep in this grey morn. Now in the midst of the old world forlorn A mystic child is set in these still hours. I keep this time, even before the flowers, Sacred to all the young and the unborn.

Alice Meynell

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Alice Meynell
Age: 75 †
Born: 1847
Born: September 22
Died: 1922
Died: November 27
Essayist
Literary Critic
Poet
Writer
Barnes
England
Alice Christiana Gertrude Meynell
Alice Christiana Gertrude Thompson
Young
Wind
Prophet
Meanings
Still
Rich
Midst
Mystic
Colourless
Children
Child
Flowers
Unborn
Bowers
Even
Face
Sky
Showers
Adorn
Time
Hours
Sacred
Winds
Morn
World
Faces
Spring
Asleep
Forlorn
Keep
Flower
Grey
Folded
Stills
Poet
Unseen
Blossom

More quotes by Alice Meynell

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for man, woman, and child the tender, irregular, sensitive, living foot, which does not even stand with all its little surface on the ground, and which makes no base to satisfy an architectural eye, is, as it were, the unexpected thing. ... nothing makes a more helpless and unsymmetrical sign than does a naked foot.
Alice Meynell
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No mirror keeps its glances.
Alice Meynell
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We talk of sunshine and moonshine, but not of cloud-shine, which is yet one of the illuminations of our skies. A shining cloud is one of the most majestic of all secondary lights.
Alice Meynell
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O daisy mine, what will it be to look / From God's side even of such a simple thing?
Alice Meynell
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I have known some grim bells, with not a single joyous note in the whole peal, so forced to hurry for a human festival, with their harshness made light of, as though the Bishop of Hereford had again been forced to dance in his boots by a merry highwayman.
Alice Meynell
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There is nothing in the world more peaceful than apple - leaves with an early moon.
Alice Meynell
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Solitude is separate experience.
Alice Meynell
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The sense of humor has other things to do than to make itself conspicuous in the act of laughter.
Alice Meynell
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Now, in our opinion no author should be blamed for obscurity, nor should any pains be grudged in the effort to understand him, provided that he has done his best to be intelligible. Difficult thoughts are quite distinct from difficult words. Difficulty of thought is the very heart of poetry.
Alice Meynell
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My day-mind can endure / Upright, in hope, all it must undergo. / But O, afraid, unsure, / My night-mind waking lies too low, too low.
Alice Meynell
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But, visiting Sea, your love doth press / And reach in further than you know, / And fills all these and, when you go, / There's loneliness in loneliness.
Alice Meynell
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The true colour of life is the colour of the body, the colour of the covered red, the implicit and not explicit red of the living heart and the pulses. It is the modest colour of the unpublished blood.
Alice Meynell
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Rome in the ages, dimmed with all her towers, / Floats in the mist, a little cloud at tether.
Alice Meynell
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Terrestrial scenery is much, but it is not all. Men go in search of it but the celestial scenery journeys to them it goes its way round the world. It has no nation, it costs no wearinesss, it knows no bonds.
Alice Meynell
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In childhood we all have ... a far higher sensibility for April and April evenings - a heartache for them, which in riper years is gradually and irretrievably consoled.
Alice Meynell
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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.
Alice Meynell
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Let us turn to our own childhoods-no further-if we will renew our sense of remoteness, and of the mystery of change.
Alice Meynell
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Tender, too, is the silence of human feet. You have but to pass a season amongst the barefooted to find that man, who, shod, makes so much ado, is naturally as silent as snow.
Alice Meynell
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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
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The cloud controls the light ... It is the cloud that, holding the sun's rays in a sheaf as a giant holds a handful of spears, strikes the horizon, touches the extreme edge with a delicate revelation of light, or suddenly puts it out and makes the foreground shine.
Alice Meynell