Happy Birthday John William Waterhouse

Romancing the art...celebrating the life...

John William Waterhouse
(1849-1917)
English PreRaphaelite painter
Image courtesy/WikiArt.org

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Source: http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/invictus-by-william-ernest-henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Source: http://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/invictus-by-william-ernest-henl

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

"A Dream Within A Dream"

Edgar Allan Poe

Miranda
The Tempest
(1875)
John William Waterhouse

She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:

A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
---Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.

She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me! 

"She Dwelt Among The Untrodden Ways"
William Wordsworth

Windflowers
(1903)

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,

Old time is still a-flying;

And this same flower that smiles today

Tomorrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven the sun,

The higher he's a-getting,

The sooner will his race be run,

And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,

When youth and blood are warmer;

But being spent, the worse, and worst

Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,

And, while ye may, go marry;

For, having lost but once your prime,

You may forever tarry.

"To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time"
Robert Herrick
(1648)

The Soul of the Rose

(1903)
Image courtesy/Wikimedia Commons




Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you,
But when the leaves hang trembling
The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees
bow down their heads
The wind is passing by.

Who Has Seen The Wind?

Christina Rossetti

Boreas
(1903)
Image courtesy/Wikipedia

 

 

 

“To have compassion for those who suffer
 is a human quality which everyone should possess, 
especially those who have required comfort
 themselves in the past and have managed
 to find it in others. ”
"The Decameron"
Giovanni Boccaccio 

 

 

 

 

The Decameron
(1916)
Wikimedia Commons