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But he has gone, A nation's memory and veneration, Among the radiant, ever venturing on, Somewhere, with morning, as such spirits will.

John Masefield

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John Masefield
Age: 88 †
Born: 1878
Born: June 1
Died: 1967
Died: May 12
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
County of Herefordshire
John Edward Masefield
Gone
Spirits
Spirit
Somewhere
Ever
Memory
Among
Nation
Memories
Venturing
Morning
Veneration
Nations
Radiant

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And may we find when ended is the page, Death but a tavern on our pilgrimage.
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I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
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All I ask is a tall ship and a star to sail her by.
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I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain.
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From '41 to '51I was my folk's contrary sonI bit my father's hand right throughAnd broke my mother's heart in two.
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The days that make us happy make us wise
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Since the printing press came into being, poetry has ceased to be the delight of the whole community of man it has become the amusement and delight of the few.
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The Lord who gave us Earth and Heaven Takes that as thanks for all He's given. The book he lent is given back All blotted red and smutted black.
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The three foundations of judgement: Bold Design, Constant Practice, and Frequent Mistakes.
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God warms his hands at man's heart when he prays.
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I hold that when a person dies / His soul returns again to earth / Arrayed in some new flesh disguise / Another mother gives him birth / With sturdier limbs and brighter brain.
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The corn that makes the holy bread By which the soul of man is fed, The holy bread, the food unpriced, Thy everlasting mercy, Christ.
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I must go down to the sea again For the call of the running tide It's a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied.
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Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth
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There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see.
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To most of us the future seems unsure. But then it always has been and we who have seen great changes must have great hopes.
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When Life knocks at the door no one can wait, When Death makes his arrest we have to go.
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Man cannot call the brimming instant back Time's an affair of instants spun to days If man must make an instant gold, or black, Let him, he may but Time must go his ways. Life may be duller for an instant's blaze. Life's an affair of instants spun to years, Instants are only cause of all these tears.
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Off Cape Horn there are but two kinds of weather, neither one of them a pleasant kind.
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Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French.
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