Quotes
Quotes about Sun
L'Abbe de Ville proposed a toast, His master, as the rising Sun: Reisbach then gave the Empress Queen, As the bright moon and much praise won. The Earl of Stair, whose turn next came, Gave for his toast his own King Will, As Joshua the sun of Nun, Who made both Sun and Moon stand still.
Defer not till to-morrow to be wise, To-morrow's Sun to thee may never rise; Or should to-morrow chance to cheer thy sight With her enlivening and unlook'd for light, How grateful will appear her dawning rays! As favours unexpected doubly please.
I am fevered with the sunset, I am fretful with the bay, For the wander-thirst is on me And my soul is in Cathay.
Oh, colder than the wind that freezes Founts, that but now in sunshine play'd, Is that congealing pang which seizes The trusting bosom, when betray'd.
On the Big Blackfoot River above the mouth of Belmont Creek the banks are fringed by large Ponderosa pines. In the slanting sun of late afternoon the shadows of great branches reached across the river, and the trees took the river in their arms.
Pray, pray, thou who also weepest,-- And the drops will slacken so; Weep, weep--and the watch thou keepest, With a quicker count will go. Think,--the shadow on the dial For the nature most undone, Marks the passing of the trial, Proves the presence of the sun.
Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight.
Like the sun, truth is self luminescent. It is reality, self evident, needing no external defense. It is immediately recognized by resonant hearts. It can be hidden for a short time by clouds or by imprisoning others indoors.. but inevitably truth conquers all, as does love. God whose name is Truth whose name is Love is ending the violence in the world now.
Three things cannot long be hidden the sun, the moon, and the truth. -Confucious.
The sunbeams dropped Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche, Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim, As if the very Day paused and grew Eve.
The summer day is closed, the sun is set: Well they have done their office, those bright hours, The latest of whose train goes softly out In the red west.
'Twas twilight, and the sunless day went down Over the waste of waters; like a veil, Which, if withdrawn, would but disclose the frown Of one whose hate is mask'd but to assail.
The gloaming comes, the day is spent, The sun goes out of sight, And painted is the occident With purple sanguine bright.
The sun is set; and in his latest beams Yon little cloud of ashen gray and gold, Slowly upon the amber air unrolled, The falling mantle of the Prophet seems.
The west is broken into bars Of orange, gold, and gray; Gone is the sun, come are the stars, And night infolds the day.
Our lady of the twilight She hath such gentle hands, So lovely are the gifts she brings From out of the sunset-lands, So bountiful, so merciful, So sweet of soul is she; And over all the world she draws Her cloak of charity.
. . . th' approach of night The skies yet blushing with departing light, When falling dews with spangles deck'd the glade, And the low sun had lengthen'd ev'ry shade.
Ah, County Guy, the hour is nigh, The sun has left the lea, The orange flower perfumes the bower, The breeze is on the sea.
Tyranny and anarchy are never far asunder.
Of doues I haue a dainty paire Which, when you please to take the aier, About your head shall gently houer, Your cleere browe from the sunne to couer, And with their nimble wings shall fan you That neither cold nor heate shall tan you, And like umbrellas, with their feathers Sheeld you in all sorts of weathers.
Good housewives all the winter's rage despise, Defended by the riding-hood's disguise; Or, underneath the umbrella's oily shade, Safe through the wet on clinking pattens tread, Let Persian dames the unbrella's ribs display, To guard their beauties from the sunny ray; Or sweating slaves support the shady load, When eastern monarchs show their state abroad; Britain in winter only knows its aid, To guard from chilling showers the walking maid.
See, here's a shadow found; the human nature Is made th' umbrella to the Deity, To catch the sunbeams of thy just Creator; Beneath this covert thou may'st safely lie.
The American people never carry an umbrella. They prepare to walk in eternal sunshine.
All human things hang on a slender thread, the strongest fall with a sudden crash. [Lat., Omnia sunt hominum tenui pendentia filo: Et subito casu, quae valuere, ruunt.]
It is by universal misunderstanding that all agree. For if, by ill luck, people understood each other, they would never agree.
