Quotes about stone, page 13

Pickthorn Manor
I
How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day!
A steely silver, underlined with blue,
And flashing where the round clouds, blown away,
Let drop the yellow sunshine to gleam through
And tip the edges of the waves with shifts
And spots of whitest fire, hard like gems
Cut from the midnight moon they were, and sharp
As wind through leafless stems.
The Lady Eunice walked between the drifts
Of blooming cherry-trees, and watched the rifts
Of clouds drawn through the river's azure warp.
II
Her little feet tapped softly down the path.
Her soul was listless; even the morning breeze
Fluttering the trees and strewing a light swath
Of fallen petals on the grass, could please
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poem by Amy Lowell
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Ninth Book
EVEN thus. I pause to write it out at length,
The letter of the Lady Waldemar.–
'I prayed your cousin Leigh to take you this,
He says he'll do it. After years of love,
Or what is called so,–when a woman frets
And fools upon one string of a man's name,
And fingers it for ever till it breaks,–
He may perhaps do for her such thing,
And she accept it without detriment
Although she should not love him any more
And I, who do not love him, nor love you,
Nor you, Aurora,–choose you shall repent
Your most ungracious letter, and confess,
Constrained by his convictions, (he's convinced)
You've wronged me foully. Are you made so ill,
You woman–to impute such ill to me?
We both had mothers,–lay in their bosom once.
Why, after all, I thank you, Aurora Leigh,
For proving to myself that there are things
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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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Orlando Furioso Canto 17
ARGUMENT
Charles goes, with his, against King Rodomont.
Gryphon in Norandino's tournament
Does mighty deeds; Martano turns his front,
Showing how recreant is his natural bent;
And next, on Gryphon to bring down affront,
Stole from the knight the arms in which he went;
Hence by the kindly monarch much esteemed,
And Gryphon scorned, whom he Martano deemed.
I
God, outraged by our rank iniquity,
Whenever crimes have past remission's bound,
That mercy may with justice mingled be,
Has monstrous and destructive tyrants crowned;
And gifted them with force and subtlety,
A sinful world to punish and confound.
Marius and Sylla to this end were nursed,
Rome with two Neros and a Caius cursed;
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poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Five Pyramidal Stones
Pyramidal stone
Pyramidal stone
Pyramidal stone
Pyramidal stone
Pyramidal stone
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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You Are A Stone Hearted
You are a stone hearted
that so my heart is bleeding
with your one hit
What my fragile heart will understand
harshness of your heart and
what your heart will understand
delicacy of my heart
My heart is more placid
than petal of any flower
Your heart is stone
that can overcome high tides of oceans
No fire can burn your heart
because you are a stone hearted
My heart can fuse with your little love
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poem by Ramesh Rai
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The House of Stone
I came, from where?
From the house made of stone...
My aunt Romana -
That whom you do not know,
When she had an accident
She stayed in the house of stone
To get well and recover...
But with a cutting tongue
Against my father,
She said to me,
'T'is a big house made of stone,
But inside here lives an owl! '
Where did I come from?
From that house of stone...
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poem by Jane Quijano
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It's Not By The Water Alone The Stone Get Wet
it's not by the water alone the stone get wet
many time the soil moisture rise the plant to grow,
and the dew fall in the midst forest has capture the
sun to shadow the plant maturity until the bearing
trees touch every twisting tooth to go down
roll on the water stream the fungi has distance the
cope off the fish, rushing into the turmoil of
crushing speed amongst the stone of sojourner into
the sea of no returning back, the awakening
movement of home bound recipe of life
all gets wet, nay wet moisturize all the rolling stone
towards to the sea floor of forever gray; neither the
water filled the dried color of the stone, and scented
to attract fish to return home for what is real lives
forever in the heart of the stone
let every piece of pebble gems taste a little droplets
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poem by Antonio Liao
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To Gather Moss And More Of Moss
to gather moss
be a stone
to gather more moss
be a very still stone
be a stone still till the end
of time
you stand still and think
you want to be the moss
rather than a stone
to be all moss
you must betray the stillness
of stone
you must even forget
the importance of
what a moss can be
then you think some more
to be completely this moss
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet I
The only difference between you and the moon,
My distant friend is that the moon never leaves me alone,
It does not send assorted bones wrapped in a sad night like this,
Your only gifts were ‘sorrow' and ‘melancholy', the twin sisters.
Distant friend, when you abandoned me at nowhere.
The cruel nights kept knocking on my repulsive door.
I went lost as a stone, silent as the smoke, and sad as fall.
While the other moon kept sprinkling its sack of floor on my wounds.
The other moon always crossed the immense distances for me,
Turning away meters, kilometers and miles; love doesn't know time and space
distance is not a obstacle, not an excuse for forgetting,
while you my moon; being close as breath to me, lived extraterrestrial-ly.
You always kept hearing me as though I was absent,
Saw me as though I was invisible, spoke as though I was a shadow.
Abandoned me as though I was a stone
I have always been a stone my love, a stone lost.
Beloved: There is nothing more sadder than being a lost stone:
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poem by Sarang Mangi
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Guido Sebaldi
Guido Sebaldi the mason
Worked at a house of stone:
Guido Sebaldi the mason
Sand at his work alone.
Till a stranger, he said unto him
As he hammer'd the stone one day'
'Guido Sebaldi the mason,
Hark to the words I say!'
'Leave thou this work, fit only
For oxen that draw the plough:
No longer Sebaldi the mason,
Guido the sculptor thou!'
Then Guido Sebaldi the mason
Look'd on his work in shame.
And 'Lo,' he said, 'I am lusty,
I will build me a noble name.'
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poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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