Robert Bridges Quotations

Simple and brave, his faith awoke, Ploughmen to struggle with their fate; Armies won battles when he spoke, And out of Chaos sprang the state.

My delight and thy delight / Walking, like two angels white, / In the gardens of the night.

Perfect little body, without fault or stain on thee.

Centralizing our business operations into a home office campus environment has been a carefully planned process.

I live on hope and that I think do all Who come into this world.

I think (the players) will be able to adjust pretty easy. I don't think their record has been as good in the past couple of years as it can be.

I will not let thee go. / Had not the great sun seen, I might; / Or were he reckoned slow / To bring the false to light, / Then might I let thee go.

Whither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding, / Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West.

Wherefore to-night so full of care, / My soul, revolving hopeless strife?

When men were all asleep the snow came flying, / In large white flakes falling on the city brown, / Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying, / Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town.

Were I a cloud I'd gather My skirts up in the air, And fly well know whither, And rest I well know where.

Beneath the crisp and wintry carpet hid A million buds but stay their blossoming And trustful birds have built their nests amid The shuddering boughs, and only wait to sing Till one soft shower from the south shall bid And hither tempt the pilgrim steps of Spring.

Beautiful must be the mountains whence ye come, / And bright in the fruitful valleys the streams, wherefrom / Ye learn your song.

For beauty being the best of all we know / Sums up the unsearchable and secret aims / Of nature.

I'm excited about coming back to Meridian High School. I hope to bring the program to the next level.

I heard a linnet courting / His lady in the spring.

Beauty sat with me all the summer day, / Awaiting the sure triumph of her eye; / Nor mark'd I till we parted, how, hard by, / Love in her train stood ready for his prey.

And Reason kens he herits in / A haunted house. Tenants unknown / Assert their squalid lease of sin / With earlier title than his own.

The day begins to droop, - / Its course is done: / But nothing tells the place / Of the setting sun.

Science comforting man's animal poverty and leisuring his toil, hath humanized manners and social temper, and now above her globe-spredd net of speeded intercourse hath outrun all magic, and disclosing the secrecy of the reticent air hath woven a web of invisible strands spiriting the dumb inane with the quick matter of life...

There is a hill beside the silver Thames, Shady with birch and beech and odorous pine; And brilliant underfoot with thousand gems, Steeply the thickets to his floods decline.

The lonely season in lonely lands, when fled Are half the birds, and mists lie low, and the sun Is rarely seen, nor strayeth far from his bed; The short days pass unwelcomed one by one.

The hill pines were sighing, O'ercast and chill was the day; A mist in the valley lying Blotted the pleasant May.

Nature hav no music; nor would ther be for theeany better melody in the April woods at dawnthan what an old stone-deaf labourer, lying awakeo'night in his comfortless attic, might perchancebe aware of, when the rats run amok in his thatch?

My delight and thy delight Walking, like two angels white, In the gardens of the night.

Our stability is but balance, and conduct lies In masterful administration of the unforseen.

When Death to either shall come - I pray it be first to me.

Beauty being the best of all we know sums up the unsearchable and secret aims of nature.

The south-wind strengthens to a gale, / Across the moon the clouds fly fast, / The house is smitten as with a flail, / The chimney shudders to the blast.

Spring goeth all in white, / Crowned with milk-white may: / In fleecy flocks of light / O'er heaven the white clouds stray.

Beauty is the highest of all these occult influences, the quality of appearances that thru' the sense wakeneth spiritual emotion in the mind of man.

Unto us all our days are love's anniversaries, each one In turn hath ripened something of our happiness.

Since to be loved endures, To love is wise.

I live in hope and that I think do all Who come into this world.

I love all beauteous things, I seek and adore them

The name of happiness is but a wider termfor the unalloy'd conditions of the Pleasur of Life,attendant on all function, and not to be deny'dto th' soul, unless forsooth in our thought of naturespiritual is by definition unnatural.

Man's Reason is in such deep insolvency to sense,that tho' she guide his highest flight heav'nward, and teach himdignity morals manners and human comfort,she can delicatly and dangerously bedizenthe rioting joys that fringe the sad pathways of Hell.

I have loved flowers that fade,Within whose magic tentsRich hues have marriage madeWith sweet unmemoried scents:A honeymoon delight,A joy of love at sight,That ages in an hourMy song be like a flower!

Whither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding,Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West,That fearest nor sea rising, nor sky clouding,Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest?

To-morrow it seemLike the empty words of a dreamRemembered on waking.

Good melody is never out of fashion

Poetry's magic lies in the imagery which satifies even without interpretation..it is accepted as easily as it was created.

Beauty, the eternal Spouse of the Wisdom of God and Angel of his Presence thru' all creation.

And whiter grows the foam, The small moon lightens more; And as I turn me home, My shadow walks before.

O soul, be patient: thou shalt find A little matter mend all this; Some strain of music to thy mind, Some praise for skill not spent amiss.

Scatter the clouds that hide The face of heaven, and show Where sweet peace doth abide, Where Truth and Beauty grow.

O youth whose hope is high, Who dost to Truth aspire, Whether thou live or die, O look not back nor tire.

When men were all asleep the snow came flying, In large white flakes falling on the city brown, Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying, Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town.

Were I a cloud I'd gather My skirts up in the air, And fly I well know whither, And rest I well know where.

But I can tell - let truth be told - That love will change in growing old; Though day by day is nought to see, So delicate his motions be.

So sweet love seemed that April morn, when first we kissed beside the thorn, so strangely sweet, it was not strange we thought that love could never change.

When first we met we did not guess that Love would prove so hard a master.

I know that if odour were visible, as colour is, I'd see the summer garden in rainbow clouds.