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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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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
Cloud
Towers
Rome
Ages
Tether
Clouds
Dimmed
Age
Floats
Littles
Little
Mist

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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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With mimicry, with praises, with echoes, or with answers, the poets have all but outsung the bell. The inarticulate bell has found too much interpretation, too many rhymes professing to close with her inaccessible utterance, and to agree with her remote tongue. The bell, like the bird, is a musician pestered with literature.
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recurrence is sure. What the mind suffered last week, or last year, it does not suffer now but it will suffer again next week or next year. Happiness is not a matter of events it depends upon the tides of the mind.
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A wall is the safeguard of simplicity.
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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.
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No mirror keeps its glances.
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There is nothing in the world more peaceful than apple - leaves with an early moon.
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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.
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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.
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O daisy mine, what will it be to look / From God's side even of such a simple thing?
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It is principally for the sake of the leg that a change in the dress of man is so much to be desired. The leg is the best part of the figure and the best leg is the man s. Man should no longer disguise the long lines, the strong forms, in those lengths of piping or tubing that are of all garments the most stupid.
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From the shaken tower A flock of bells take flight, And go with the hour.
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.
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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.
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Childhood is but change made gay and visible.
Alice Meynell
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Spring and autumn are inconsiderable events in a landscape compared with the shadows of a cloud.
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
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... I am dark but fair, / Black but fair.
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It is easy to replace man, and it will take no great time, when Nature has lapsed, to replace Nature.
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There is no innocent sleep so innocent as sleep shared between a woman and a child, the little breath hurrying beside the longer, as a child's foot runs.
Alice Meynell