my europe travel blog for all you who are interested to know where my feet have taken me :)
www.travelingleprechaun.blogspot.com
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
inspiration
to see a world in a grain of sand,
and a heaven in a wild flower,
hold infinity in the palm of your hand
and eternity in an hour.
William Blake
Auguries of Innocence
and a heaven in a wild flower,
hold infinity in the palm of your hand
and eternity in an hour.
William Blake
Auguries of Innocence
Monday, May 5, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
EXAMS ARE CANCELLED!!! DO a happy DaNce!!!
there is snow on the ground, i hope you are all enjoying this as much as i am.
this is for you kara
despot: an absolute ruler; tyrant
for everyone else
inspiration: a creative influence; the influence of GOD on persons
"Short of the nearest and dearest communion with Him, my panting spirit cannot stand firm. Blessed Lord Jesus, be with me, reveal yourself, and abide with me all night, so that, when I awake, I may still be with you."
Charles Spurgeon
Evening by Evening
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Monday, January 7, 2008
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, till on the haunting flares we turned our backs and towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots but limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas!Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling, fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; but someone still was yelling out and stumbling, and flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . . Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light, as under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, he plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace behind the wagon that we flung him in, and watch the white eyes writhing in his face, his hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; if you could hear, at every jolt, the blood come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud. Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, my friend, you would not tell with such high zest. To children ardent for some desperate glory, the old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori.
Wilfred Owen
Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori- it is sweet and right to die for your country
written during the first world war by captain wilfred owen.
he died 7 days before the armistice, his family recieved the news well the bells were chiming.
remember those that fought and died.
Gas!Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling, fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; but someone still was yelling out and stumbling, and flound'ring like a man in fire or lime . . . Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light, as under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, he plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace behind the wagon that we flung him in, and watch the white eyes writhing in his face, his hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; if you could hear, at every jolt, the blood come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud. Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, my friend, you would not tell with such high zest. To children ardent for some desperate glory, the old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori.
Wilfred Owen
Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori- it is sweet and right to die for your country
written during the first world war by captain wilfred owen.
he died 7 days before the armistice, his family recieved the news well the bells were chiming.
remember those that fought and died.
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