|London, Jack books|
AFFINITY by Florence Earle Coates
ALL are not strangers whom we so misname:
"An even better contribution would be if...Londonjackbooks provide the 'wealth' of transcriptions from the original publications..."
Poet, why wilt thou wander far afield?
y primary focus is to "bring back to life" the works of Philadelphia poet Florence Earle Coates (1850-1927). [Also check out works by her brother!] I am a Wiki-Kindergartener who likes to copy, cut, and paste; I am allowed to wander onto the Wikisource playground even though I should probably stick to playing in the sandbox! Please keep me informed of any transcription/factual errors that I might make, and I will try not to whine or ask "Why?" too often! Thank you, and enjoy!
[Gauvain:] "...Putting everything in equilibrium is good; making everything harmonious is better. Above the scales is the lyre. Your republic doses, measures, and rules man; mine carries him up into the clear sky; that is the difference between a theorem and an eagle."
[Cimourdain:] "You will be lost in the clouds."
[Gauvain:] "And you in mathematics."
"Now," said I, "you know that boy's picture had merit; why did you treat him so harshly?" He answered, "If he has the right stuff in him, this will make no difference; he will paint on, though the ghost of Raphael should warn him to give way; and will succeed in his art. If he has not, I am doing him the highest benefit by keeping from him that 'crown of sorrow' which is inevitable for one who has not clearly discerned the true purpose of his life."
"...They were 'born soldiers,' and, in the piping time of peace, out of unison with the bustling crowd around them. Life seemed a muddle, and of course they went astray. But when the great guns sounded, and the bugles rang, they came at once to their birthright, and many a ne'er-do-well made himself a patriot and hero forever."
"…Probably Emily Dickinson herself felt that the picture failed to capture any essential element of self, for when Higginson explicitly requested a photograph of her, she sidled into prevarication and told him that none had ever been taken. She wanted him to know her through her writing—the poetry and letters—and in the end he was forced to accept her on her own terms."
"A man who is good enough to shed his blood for his country is good enough to be given a square deal afterward. More than that no man is entitled to, and less than that no man shall have."—Theodore Roosevelt
"In King Lear (III:vii) there is a man who is such a minor character that Shakespeare has not given him even a name: he is merely "First Servant." All the characters around him. . . have fine long-term plans. They think they know how the story is going to end, and they are quite wrong. The servant has no such delusions. . ." (from "The World's Last Night" by C. S. Lewis)
"It is the small things of the world that color the lives of those around us … and that if we did but perceive the mighty principles underlying these tiny things we should rather feel awed that we are entrusted with them at all, than scornful and impatient that they are no larger. What are we that we should ask for more than that God should let us work for Him among the tangible things which He created to be fair, and the human spirits which He redeemed to be pure? From time to time He lifts a veil and shows us, even while we struggle with imperfections here below, that towards which we are working—shows us how, by governing and ordering the tangible things one by one, we may make of this earth a fair dwelling-place. And far better still, how by cherishing human beings He will let us help Him in His work of building up temples meet for Him to dwell in—faint images of that best temple of all, which He promised that He would raise up on the third day, though men might destroy it."
"[Brooke] sees objects practically unrelated, and links them in strings; or he sees them pictorially; or, he sees pictures immersed as it were in an atmosphere of thought. When the process is complete, the thought suggests the picture and is its origin..."
As monkish scribes from morning break
Toiled till the close of light,
Nor thought a day too long to make
One line or letter bright
* * *
Leave, leave it then, ...
Sans finish and sans frame,
Leave unadorned by needless art
The picture as it came.
"...it is the cultivation and exercise of the imaginative faculty that, more than anything, tend to wean the man of genius from actual life, and, by substituting the sensibilities of the imagination for those of the heart, to render, at last, the medium through which he feels no less unreal than that through which he thinks. Those images of ideal good and beauty that surround him in his musings soon accustom him to consider all that is beneath this high standard unworthy of his care; till, at length, the heart becoming chilled as the fancy warms, it too often happens that, in proportion as he has refined and elevated his theory of all the social affections, he has unfitted himself for the practice of them."
"...to live in materiality is to be in bondage to the ills of this world; therefore true existence cannot be realized so long as life is established in the physical plane.... [etc.] ... When life is established in the spiritual state, the physical ceases to be materialistic, and the psychical ceases to be a troubled sea of conflicting emotions. Instead, the physical becomes an orderly expression of the pure, wholesome life of the soul, and the psychical becomes a world of the richest thought, the most sublime feeling and the highest mental enjoyment."
"...It was one of the occasions when, like our Autocrat composing "The Chambered Nautilus," he had written "better than he could..."
...Building better than they knew:
Building liberty not planned...
...He builded better than he knew,
The conscious stone to beauty grew...
The world rolls round,—mistrust it not,—
Befalls again what once befell;
All things return, both sphere and mote,
And I shall hear my bluebird's note,
And dream the dream of Auburn dell.
* * *
What fiery force the earth renews,
The wealth of forms, the flush of hues;
What joy in rosy waves outpoured
Flows from the heart of Love, the Lord.
from "May-Day" by Ralph Waldo Emerson
"...man doth build on an eternal scale,
And his ideals are framed of hope deferred"
By George Du Maurier, author of "Trilby" and "Peter Ibbetson." Oblong 12mo, paper, 50 cents; oblong 12mo, shot-silk cloth, $1.00. CHARLES H. SERGEL COMPANY, 358 Dearborn St., CHICAGO. No 11 Sergel's International Library, March 1895. (unpaginated)
One hundred and sixty of Du Maurier's London society pictures, accompanied with a few words of witty dialogue.
- Cygnis insignis on 21 October 2009 (Proposed deletions).