You May Also Like / View all maxioms
The wind, the wandering wind
Of the golden summer eyes--
Whence is the thrilling magic
read more
The wind, the wandering wind
Of the golden summer eyes--
Whence is the thrilling magic
Of its tunes amongst the leaves?
Oh, is it from the waters,
Or from the long, tall grass?
Or is it from the hollow rocks
Through which its breathings pass?
I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
read more
I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
Like keys of some great instrument.
Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find
The perfumes thou dost bring?
Where hast thou wandered. gentle gale, to find
The perfumes thou dost bring?
The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut
out in the awful storm!
The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut
out in the awful storm!
The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound
thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, read more
The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound
thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it
goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.
As winds come whispering lightly from the West,
Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.
As winds come whispering lightly from the West,
Kissing, not ruffling, the blue deep's serene.
The wind's in the east. . . . I am always conscious of an
uncomfortable sensation now and then read more
The wind's in the east. . . . I am always conscious of an
uncomfortable sensation now and then when the wind is blowing in
the east.
Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, thou art very great;
thou art clothed with honour read more
Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, thou art very great;
thou art clothed with honour and majesty.
Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretches
out the heavens like a curtain:
Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh
the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind:
Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire:
Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be
removed for ever.
A litle wind kindles; much puts out the fire.
[A little wind kindles; much puts out the fire.]
A litle wind kindles; much puts out the fire.
[A little wind kindles; much puts out the fire.]