Liberty's in every blow! Let us do or die.
Robert BurnsRead
Not the bee upon the blossom, In the pride o' sunny noon; Not the little sporting fairy, All beneath the simmer moon; Not the poet, in the moment Fancy lightens in his e'e, Kens the pleasure, feels the rapture, That thy presence gi'es to me.
Interpretation
The speaker expresses that no external joys can compare to the happiness brought by their beloved's presence.
In this quote, Robert Burns emphasizes that the true source of joy and rapture stems not from nature's beauty or poetic inspiration, but from the cherished presence of a loved one. He portrays a deep emotional connection, suggesting that nothing in the world, whether it be the bees at noon or the fairies under the moonlight, can evoke the same level of delight as the love he feels.
In practice
A romantic dinner setting where you want to express your feelings to your partner.
Liberty's in every blow! Let us do or die.
I'm truly sorry man's dominion has broken Nature's social union.
Love's first snow-drop, virgin kiss.
All-cheering Plenty, with her flowing horn, Led yellow Autumn, wreath'd with nodding corn.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to min?
Apropos, is not the Scotch phrase 'Auld Lang Syne' exceedingly expressive? I shall give you the verses on the other sheet. The words of 'Auld Lang Syne' are good, but the music is an old air, the rudiments of the modern tune of that name. ... Dare to be honest and fear no labor. ... Opera is where a man gets stabbed in the back, and instead of dying, he sings. ... Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure thrill the deepest notes of woe. ... Critics! Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame.
Fervor is a fire that makes things boil and grow hot, just as fire causes water to boil. It is, properly speaking, charity on fire, and that is what you should have because a Daughter without Charity is like a body without a soul.
Did you ever, in that wonderland wilderness of adolesence [sic] ever, quite unexpectedly, see something, a dusk sky, a wild bird, a landscape, so exquisite terror touched you at the bone? And you are afraid, terribly afraid the smallest movement, a leaf, say, turning in the wind, will shatter all? That is, I think, the way love is, or should be: one lives in beautiful terror.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
You know that you have fully experienced love when you turn into love - that is the spiritual goal of life.
Love isn't always magic. But if I offered my body to the magician, if I told him to cut me in half so after that I could come to you whole and ask for you back would you listen for this dark alley love song? For the winter we heated our home from the steam off our own bodies?
I thought of you and how you love this beauty, And walking up the long beach all alone I heard the waves breaking in measured thunder As you and I once heard their monotone. Around me were the echoing dunes, beyond me The cold and sparkling silver of the sea -- We two will pass through death and ages lengthen Before you hear that sound again with me.
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