By death, “we get nearer and nearer to our home, Heaven” and to God, “who is our only security.”
By death, “we get nearer and nearer to our home, Heaven” and to God, “who is our only security.”
Lo! where the Moon along the skySails with her happy destiny;Oft is she hid from mortal eyeOr dimly seen,But when the clouds asunder flyHow bright her mien! Far different we—a froward race,Thousands though rich in Fortune's graceWith cherished sullenness of paceTheir way pursue,Ingrates who wear a smileless faceThe whole year through. If kindred humours e'er …
In the bleak mid-winterFrosty wind made moan;Earth stood hard as iron,Water like a stone;Snow had fallen, snow on snow,Snow on snow,In the bleak mid-winterLong ago. I know very few poems by Christina Rossetti, but her winter and Christmas poems and songs have found a special place in my heart, and this one more than most. …
I will begin by saying that I do not have any great insight to provide into the Paradiso. In all honestly, so much has been said on Dante's The Divine Comedy that not much more can be said. However, as I was reading it I found a few things interesting in the text and I thought …