“There is freedom waiting for you,
On the breezes of the sky,
And you ask "What if I fall?"
Oh but my darling,
What if you fly?”
―
On the breezes of the sky,
And you ask "What if I fall?"
Oh but my darling,
What if you fly?”
―
“Moonlight and the murmur of pines blended together so that one could hardly tell which was light and which was sound.”
― The Blue Castle
― The Blue Castle
“Courage, dear heart.”
― The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
― The Voyage of the Dawn Treader
“Such a rich chapter it had been, when one came to look back on it all! With illustrations so numerous and so very highly coloured!”
― The Wind in the Willows
― The Wind in the Willows
“Mary Magdalene
With wandering eyes and aimless zeal,
She hither, thither, goes;
Her speech, her motions, all reveal
A mind without repose.
She climbs the hills, she haunts the sea,
By madness tortured, driven;
One hour's forgetfulness would be
A gift from very heaven!
She slumbers into new distress;
The night is worse than day:
Exulting in her helplessness;
Hell's dogs yet louder bay.
The demons blast her to and fro;
She has not quiet place,
Enough a woman still, to know
A haunting dim disgrace.
A human touch! a pang of death!
And in a low delight
Thou liest, waiting for new breath,
For morning out of night.
Thou risest up: the earth is fair,
The wind is cool; thou art free!
Is it a dream of hell's despair
Dissolves in ecstasy?
That man did touch thee! Eyes divine
Make sunrise in thy soul;
Thou seest love in order shine:-
His health hath made thee whole!
Thou, sharing in the awful doom,
Didst help thy Lord to die;
Then, weeping o'er his empty tomb,
Didst hear him Mary cry.
He stands in haste; he cannot stop;
Home to his God he fares:
'Go tell my brothers I go up
To my Father, mine and theirs.'
Run, Mary! lift thy heavenly voice;
Cry, cry, and heed not how;
Make all the new-risen world rejoice-
Its first apostle thou!
What if old tales of thee have lied,
Or truth have told, thou art
All-safe with Him, whate'er betide
Dwell'st with Him in God's heart!”
―
With wandering eyes and aimless zeal,
She hither, thither, goes;
Her speech, her motions, all reveal
A mind without repose.
She climbs the hills, she haunts the sea,
By madness tortured, driven;
One hour's forgetfulness would be
A gift from very heaven!
She slumbers into new distress;
The night is worse than day:
Exulting in her helplessness;
Hell's dogs yet louder bay.
The demons blast her to and fro;
She has not quiet place,
Enough a woman still, to know
A haunting dim disgrace.
A human touch! a pang of death!
And in a low delight
Thou liest, waiting for new breath,
For morning out of night.
Thou risest up: the earth is fair,
The wind is cool; thou art free!
Is it a dream of hell's despair
Dissolves in ecstasy?
That man did touch thee! Eyes divine
Make sunrise in thy soul;
Thou seest love in order shine:-
His health hath made thee whole!
Thou, sharing in the awful doom,
Didst help thy Lord to die;
Then, weeping o'er his empty tomb,
Didst hear him Mary cry.
He stands in haste; he cannot stop;
Home to his God he fares:
'Go tell my brothers I go up
To my Father, mine and theirs.'
Run, Mary! lift thy heavenly voice;
Cry, cry, and heed not how;
Make all the new-risen world rejoice-
Its first apostle thou!
What if old tales of thee have lied,
Or truth have told, thou art
All-safe with Him, whate'er betide
Dwell'st with Him in God's heart!”
―
Virtus Tentamine Gaudet
— 137 members
— last activity Dec 29, 2025 06:41PM
Group for Hillsdale College alumni to share their love of books.
Magdalena’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Magdalena’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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