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everything is poetical

GK Chesterton wrote a book called called Heretics and in it he describes a state of mind I find very desirable. Perhaps it is best for me to include the bit that struck me – and hopefully you too will find it revealing about how easy it is for us to lose the mystery and

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william blake > the tyger

click image to enlarge William Blake wrote The Tyger in 1794, I have been a fan of his for some time. There is a lot of wild speculation about his sanity and real beliefs, but if you study his work (prints, poems etc), you will find many edifying and inspiring experiences. In this poem though

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My halting words will some day turn to song–

Some far-off day, in holy other times! The melody now prisoned in my rimes Will one day break aloft, and from the throng Of wrestling thoughts and words spring up the air; As from the flower its colour’s sweet despair Issues in odour, and the sky’s low levels climbs. GM

millet > death and the woodcutter

I find this image to be very powerful (click to enlarge). To me it speaks volumes. Death is walking along, reaping, or snatching those assigned their appointment with their Maker. The body position of death is almost nonchalant. The woodcutter apparently does not yet want to go. He pulls away. Maybe minutes earlier he was

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life

The soul compact of harmonies has more life, a larger being, than the soul consumed of cares; the sage is a larger life than the clown; the poet is more alive than the man whose life flows out that money may come in; the man who loves his fellow is infinitely more alive than he

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I sit o’ercanopied with Beauty’s tent,

Through which flies many a golden-winged dove, Well watched of Fancy’s tender eyes up bent; A hundred Powers wait on me, ministering; A thousand treasures Art and Knowledge bring; Will, Conscience, Reason tower the rest above; But in the midst, alone, I gladness am and love. I was reading this on Friday, and was struck

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Pieter Bruegel > Pride

The original drawing, dating 1557, is in Paris, collection of Frits Lugt (Foundation Custodia). Click to enlarge. Pride personified is a haughty royal lady, in rich court dress, “looking down her nose” at the world while she admires her image in the mirror. Tolnay points out Pride’s garments were high fashion for Bruegel’s period, whereas

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Now, ere I sleep, I wonder what I shall dream.

Some sense of being, utter new, may come Into my soul while I am blind and dumb– With shapes and airs and scents which dark hours teem, Of other sort than those that haunt the day, Hinting at precious things, ages away In the long tale of us God to himself doth say. GM

New Song! hear the drum