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| Page 7 Waterfountain QuotesPage 7 Quotes on waterfountains and water falls | Life of Ages, richly poured,
Love of God unspent and free,
Flowing in the Prophet’s word
And the People’s liberty!
Never was to chosen race
That unstinted tide confined;
Thine is every time and place,
Fountain sweet of heart and mind! - Samuel Johnson Attribution: Samuel Johnson (1822–1882), U.S. hymn writer, pastor. Life of Ages, Richly Poured (l. 1–8). . . World’s Great Religious Poetry, The. Caroline Miles Hill, ed. (1954) The Macmillan Company.
The man who invented Eskimo Pie made a million dollars, so one is told, but E.E. Cummings, whose verse has been appearing off and on for three years now, and whose experiments should not be more appalling to those interested in poetry than the experiment of surrounding ice-cream with a layer of chocolate was to those interested in soda fountains, has hardly made a dent in the doughy minds of our so-called poetry lovers. - John Dos Passos Attribution: John Dos Passos (1896–1970), U.S. novelist, poet, playwright, painter. “Off the Shoals,” The Dial (July 1922). Review of e.e. cummings’s novel The Enormous Room.
... never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
Me myself in the summer heaven, godlike.... - Robert Frost Attribution: Robert Frost (1874–1963), U.S. poet. “For Once, Then, Something.”
Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source
Of human offspring, sole propriety,
In paradise of all things common else.
By thee adulterous lust was driven from men
Among the bestial herds to range, by thee
Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure,
Relations dear, and all the charities
Of father, son, and brother first were known.
Far be it, that I should write thee sin or blame,
Of think thee unbefitting holiest place,
Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets,
Whose bed is undefiled and chaste pronounced,
Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs used.
Here love his golden shafts employs, here lights
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings,
Reigns here and revels; not in the bought smile
Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendeared,
Casual fruition, nor in court amours
Mixed dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball,
Or serenade, which the starved lover sings
To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain.
These lulled by Nightingales embracing slept,
And on their naked limbs the flowery roof
Showered roses, which the morn repaired. Sleep on,
Blest pair; and O yet happiest if ye seek
No happier state, and know to know no more. - John Milton Attribution: John Milton (1608–1674), British poet. Paradise Lost (l. Bk. IV, l. 750–775). . . The Complete Poetry of John Milton. John T. Shawcross, ed. (1963, rev. ed. 1971) Doubleday
Alice opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the lovliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those cool fountains, but she could not even get her head through the doorway. - Lewis Carroll [Charles Lutwidge Dodgson] Attribution: Lewis Carroll [Charles Lutwidge Dodgson] (1832–1898), British author, mathematician, clergyman. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, ch. I, Macmillan (1865).
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