No coward soul is mine No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere I see Heaven's glories shine And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear God within my breast Almighty ever-present Deity Life, that in me hast rest As I Undying Life, have power in Thee! Vain are the thousand creeds That move men's hearts, unutterably vain, Worthless as withered weeds Or idlest froth amid the boundless main To waken ...
It was in November 2012 when the Kiss of Death entered the Dog Park like a demon in prey; death scored 3 more lives. First it was Curly, a large black dog whose name suited him well. I saw him and his Owner just the day before and watched the loving scene of getting Curly to jump up into the back of the car… there were special hand signals and gestures to get the ‘jump’ going and completed and always the final warning ”get your tail in Curly!” Stan and Curly was a perfect match ...
Well. I'm kind of out of action for a week. Really wish I'd put my sunglasses on for this so I'll be super brief. I was about a month overdue for an eye test so went in yesterday. To be honest I haven't noticed much of a difference so I hoped I wouldn't need new lenses like last year. Well, I was lacking a little clarity from about 3 or so meters. I measured the distance properly at the time but I can't really be bothered now. It was a box of dog biscuits on the radiator and from my desk I could ...
Updated 11-24-2012 at 05:26 PM by Bluebiird (Update)
I have posted two poems of Emily Bronte here. Though she is famous for her novel :The wuthering heights. But I found her poem echo the same feeling like her novel. It make me feel chilly especially the winter is coming. Everything withers. However, from the lines ,you will much appreciate the imagination of the landscape that make you think about things about eternity, nature.Well.It is just my my personal feeling when I read her poems. And I believe I will keep find the ...
The sun has set, and the long grass now Waves dreamily in the evening wind; And the wild bird has flown from that old gray stone In some warm nook a couch to find. In all the lonely landscape round I see no light and hear no sound, Except the wind that far away Come sighing o'er the healthy sea.
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