Alfred Noyes Quotes
Alfred Noyes shares lofty, poetic reflections on history, heroism and mystery that feel like a whispered legend.
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A shadow leaned over me, whispering, in the darkness, Thoughts without sound
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Soundlessly, shadow with shadow, we wrestled together, Till the grey dawn.
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Memory, out of the mist, in a long slow ripple Breaks, blindly, against the shore.
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Never since Drake and Raleigh won Our freedom of the seas, Have sons of Britain dared and done More valiantly than these.
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Yes; as the music changes, Like a prismatic glass, It takes the light and ranges Through all the moods that pass; Dissects the common carnival Of passions and regrets, And gives the world a glimpse of all The colours it forgets.
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Go down to Kew in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time; Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London!) And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland; Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London!)
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The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees, The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding-- Riding--riding-- The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.
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One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light. Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.
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Once more I hear the everlasting sea Breathing beneath the mountain's fragrant breast
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We plucked down all His altars, left not one Save where, perchance (and ah, the joy was fleet), We laid our garlands in the sun At the white Sea-born's feet.
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'He is dead,' we cried, and even amid that gloom The wintry veil was rent! The new-born day Showed us the Angel seated in the tomb And the stone rolled away.
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There was music all about us, we were growing quite forgetful We were only singing seamen from the dirt of Londontown.
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There's a magic in the distance, where the sea-line meets the sky.
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Enough of dreams! No longer mock The burdened hearts of men! Not on the cloud, but on the rock.
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Ye that follow the vision Of the world's weal afar, Have ye met with derision And the red laugh of war? Yet the thunder shall not hurt you Nor the battle storms dismay; Tho' the sun in heaven desert you 'Love will find out the way.'
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At a certain stage in his evolution, man himself had been able to lay hold upon a higher order of things, which raised him above the level of the beasts that perish, and enabled him to see, at least in the distance, the shining towers of the City of God.
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Outlawed, but not alone, for Love Is outlawed, too. You cannot banish us, proud world: We banish you.
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Your God still walks in Eden, between the ancient trees, Where Youth and Love go wading through pools of primroses. And this is the sign we bring you, before the darkness fall, That Spring is risen, is risen again, That Life is risen, is risen again, That Love is risen, is risen again, and Love is Lord of all.
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Your dreamers may dream it The shadow of a dream, Your sages may deem it A bubble on the stream; Yet our kingdom draweth nigher With each dawn and every day, Through the earthquake and the fire Love will find out the way.
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Happy, happy, happy for all that God hath done, Glad of all the little leaves dancing in the sun.
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Of the sayings of Christ in the Synoptic Gospels that can be compared to those in the fourth Gospel, there are one or two which I venture to think can only have been recorded on the authority of St. John.
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Heart of my heart, the world is young; Love lies hidden in every rose!
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Bring the buds of the hazel-copse, Where two lovers kissed at noon; Bring the crushed red wild-thyme tops Where they murmured under the moon…
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Luke associates John with Peter in Acts, when, after the Resurrection, that strange boldness had come upon the disciples.
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The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
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Beauty is a fading flower,Truth is but a wizard's tower,Where a solemn death-bell tolls,And a forest round it rolls.
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If ever I had any doubts about the fundamental realities of religion, they could always be dispelled by one memory- the light upon my father's face as he came back from early communion.