Let my soul, a shining tree, Silver branches lift towards thee, Where on a hallowed winter's night The clear-eyed angels may alight.
EVERYONE suddenly burst out singing; And I was filled with such delight As prisoned birds must find in freedom, Winging wildly across the white Orchards and dark-green fields; on—on—and out of sight. Everyone’s voice was suddenly lifted; And beauty came like the setting sun: My heart was shaken with tears; and horror Drifted away ... O, but Everyone Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.
Interpretation
What this quote means
This quote expresses the joy and freedom found in collective celebration and liberation, akin to birds singing after being released.
Siegfried Sassoon's quote captures a moment of overwhelming delight and emotional release as everyone around him bursts into song. The imagery of imprisoned birds finding freedom evokes a powerful sense of liberation and shared joy, highlighting the beauty of collective expression and the healing power of music. It conveys how such moments can transform sorrow into happiness, allowing individuals to rise above their troubles and experience the profound connection with others and the world.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
In a speech celebrating unity at a community event.
More from Siegfried Sassoon
All quotes →But I've grown thoughtful now. And you have lost Your early-morning freshness of surprise At being so utterly mine: you've learned to fear The gloomy, stricken places in my soul, And the occasional ghosts that haunt my gaze.
I am a soldier, convinced that I am acting on behalf of soldiers.
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin they think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives.
The dead...are more real than the living because they are complete.
For it is humanly certain that most of us remember very little of what we have read. To open almost any book a second time is to be reminded that we had forgotten well-nigh everything that the writer told us. Parting from the narrator and his narrative, we retain only a fading impression; and he, as it were, takes the book away from us and tucks it under his arm.
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Others have seen what is and asked why. I have seen what could be and asked why not.