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He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.

Thomas Campbell

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Thomas Campbell
Age: 66 †
Born: 1777
Born: July 27
Died: 1844
Died: June 15
Journalist
Musicologist
Poet
Writer
Glasgow
Scotland
Another
Woe
Philanthropy
Scorn
Gratitude
Felt

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On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh, No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I, No harp like my own could so cheerily play, And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray.
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On Linden, when the sun was low, All bloodless lay the untrodden snow, And dark as winter was the flow Of Iser, rolling rapidly.
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The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart, And the star of peace return.
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The patriot's blood is the seed of Freedom's tree.
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Better be courted and jilted Than never be courted at all.
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The smaller your reality, the more convinced you are that you know everything.
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The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
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One moment may with bliss repay Unnumbered hours of pain.
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Ye mariners of England! That guard our native seas Whose flag has braved a thousand years, The battle and the breeze!
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Fundamental assumptions in general and scientific assumptions in particular are so hard to overturn because they are based on belief. Beliefs are so hard to overcome because they are irrational and therefore do not yield to logical argument.
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The only thing that is fundamental (real) is consciousness itself all else is virtual- i.e., a result of an exchange of information within consciousness.
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O star-eyed Science, hast thou wander'd there, To waft us home the message of despair?
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A stoic of the woods,--a man without a tear.
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What though my winged hours of bliss have been, Like angel visits, few and far between.
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Who hail thee, Man! the pilgrim of the day, spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay.
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The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.
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I'll meet the raging of the skies, but not an angry father.
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Beauty's witching sway is now to me a star that's fallen-a dream that's passed away.
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Where the Scriptures speak, we speak where the Scriptures are silent, we are silent.
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Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing Wed or cease to woo.
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