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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.
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
Men
Feds
Bread
Mercy
Holy
Food
Christ
Makes
Corn
Soul
Everlasting
More quotes by John Masefield
All I ask is a tall ship and a star to sail her by.
John Masefield
On the long dusty ribbon of the long city street, The pageant of life is passing me on multitudinous feet, With a word here of the hills, and a song there of the sea And-the great movement changes-the pageant passes me.
John Masefield
Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth
John Masefield
I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain.
John Masefield
All the great things of life are swiftly done, Creation, death, and love the double gate. However much we dawdle in the sun We have to hurry at the touch of Fate.
John Masefield
I have seen flowers come in stony places And kind things done by men with ugly faces, And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races, So I trust, too.
John Masefield
The three foundations of judgement: Bold Design, Constant Practice, and Frequent Mistakes.
John Masefield
I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by.
John Masefield
So death obscures your gentle form, So memory strives to make the darkness bright And, in that heap of rocks, your body lies, Part of the island till the planet ends, My gentle comrade, beautiful and wise, Part of this crag this bitter surge offends, While I, who pass, a little obscure thing, War with this force, and breathe, and am its king.
John Masefield
God warms his hands at man's heart when he prays.
John Masefield
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.
John Masefield
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.
John Masefield
Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French.
John Masefield
Love is a flame to burn out human wills, Love is a flame to set the will on fire, Love is a flame to cheat men into mire.
John Masefield
It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries I never hear the west wind but tears are in my eyes. For it comes from the west lands, the old brown hills, And April's in the West wind, and daffodils.
John Masefield
The social states of human kinds Are made by multitudes of minds, And after multitudes of years A little human growth appears Worth having, even to the soul Who sees most plain it's not the whole.
John Masefield
Each one could be a Jesus mild, Each one has been a little child, A little child with laughing look, A lovely white unwritten book A book that God will take, my friend, As each goes out at journey's end.
John Masefield
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.
John Masefield
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.
John Masefield
Man's body is faulty, his mind untrustworthy, but his imagination has made him remarkable.
John Masefield