The dignity of the artist lies in his duty of keeping awake the sense of wonder in the world. In this long vigil he often has to vary his methods of stimulation; but in this long vigil he is also himself striving against a continual tendency to sleep.
quote by Marc Chagall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Virgil Strange I Kept On The Field
VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night:
When you, my son and my comrade, dropt at my side that day,
One look I but gave, which your dear eyes return'd, with a look I
shall never forget;
One touch of your hand to mine, O boy, reach'd up as you lay on the
ground;
Then onward I sped in the battle, the even-contested battle;
Till late in the night reliev'd, to the place at last again I made my
way;
Found you in death so cold, dear comrade--found your body, son of
responding kisses, (never again on earth responding;)
Bared your face in the starlight--curious the scene--cool blew the
moderate night-wind;
Long there and then in vigil I stood, dimly around me the battlefield
spreading;
Vigil wondrous and vigil sweet, there in the fragrant silent
night; 10
But not a tear fell, not even a long-drawn sigh--Long, long I gazed;
Then on the earth partially reclining, sat by your side, leaning my
chin in my hands;
Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you, dearest
comrade--Not a tear, not a word;
Vigil of silence, love and death--vigil for you my son and my
soldier,
As onward silently stars aloft, eastward new ones upward stole;
Vigil final for you, brave boy, (I could not save you, swift was your
death,
I faithfully loved you and cared for you living--I think we shall
surely meet again;)
Till at latest lingering of the night, indeed just as the dawn
appear'd,
My comrade I wrapt in his blanket, envelop'd well his form,
Folded the blanket well, tucking it carefully over head, and
carefully under feet; 20
And there and then, and bathed by the rising sun, my son in his
grave, in his rude-dug grave I deposited;
Ending my vigil strange with that--vigil of night and battlefield
dim;
Vigil for boy of responding kisses, (never again on earth
responding;)
Vigil for comrade swiftly slain--vigil I never forget, how as day
brighten'd,
I rose from the chill ground, and folded my soldier well in his
blanket,
And buried him where he fell.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field one Night
Vigil strange I kept on the field one night;
When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day,
One look I but gave which your dear eyes return'd with a look I shall never forget,
One touch of your hand to mine O boy, reach'd up as you lay on the ground,
Then onward I sped in the battle, the even-contested battle,
Till late in the night reliev'd to the place at last again I made my way,
Found you in death so cold dear comrade, found your body son of responding kisses, (never again on earth responding,)
Bared your face in the starlight, curious the scene, cool blew the moderate night-wind,
Long there and then in vigil I stood, dimly around me the battle-field spreading,
Vigil wondrous and vigil sweet there in the fragrant silent night,
But not a tear fell, not even a long-drawn sigh, long, long I gazed,
Then on the earth partially reclining sat by your side leaning my chin in my hands,
Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you dearest comrade -- not a tear, not a word,
Vigil of silence, love and death, vigil for you my son and my soldier,
As onward silently stars aloft, eastward new ones upward stole,
Vigil final for you brave boy, (I could not save you, swift was your death,
I faithfully loved you and cared for you living, I think we shall surely meet again,)
Till at latest lingering of the night, indeed just as the dawn appear'd,
My comrade I wrapt in his blanket, envelop'd well his form,
Folded the blanket well, tucking it carefully over head and carefully under feet,
And there and then and bathed by the rising sun, my son in his grave, in his rude-dug grave I deposited,
Ending my vigil strange with that, vigil of night and battle-field dim,
Vigil for boy of responding kisses, (never again on earth responding,)
Vigil for comrade swiftly slain, vigil I never forget, how as day brighten'd,
I rose from the chill ground and folded my soldier well in his blanket,
And buried him where he fell.
poem by Walt Whitman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life long - a student
Life long
I am a student
If I fall asleep
Make me awake.
Life long
I am a poet
If I am not vigil
In word in rhyme
Make me awake
Make me caution.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Serenade
Ah, sweet, thou little knowest how
I wake and passionate watches keep;
And yet while I address thee now,
Methinks thou smilest in thy sleep.
'Tis sweet enough to make me weep,
That tender thought of love and thee,
That while the world is hush'd so deep,
Thy soul's perhaps awake to me!
Sleep on, sleep on, sweet bride of sleep!
With golden visions of thy dower,
While I this midnight vigil keep,
And bless thee in thy silent bower;
To me 'tis sweeter than the power
Of sleep, and fairy dreams unfurl'd,
That I alone, at this still hour,
In patient love outwatch the world.
poem by Thomas Hood
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It is in fact nothing short of a miracle that the modern methods of instruction have not yet entirely strangled the holy curiosity of inquiry for what this delicate little plant needs more than anything, besides stimulation, is freedom. It is a very grave mistake to think that the enjoyment of seeing and searching can be promoted by means of coercion and a sense of duty.
quote by Albert Einstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dog's Tale for M' lady Ernestine
A dog’s tale
A small dog shows his loyalty
he sleeps beside his master grave.
By his own choice he is quite free
to seek the home he does not have.
He leaves his post by morning light
and sallies forth in search of food.
Where he is greeted with delight
by children from the neighbourhood.
Polite and friendly he’ll accept
what ever scraps may come his way.
The people know by night he slept
beside his masters grave, he lay.
This duty although self imposed
he carried out until he died
Though no one at that time supposed
his fame would spread, become world wide.
Granted freedom of the city
by order of the Lord Provost.
A reward for his constancy
an honour very few can boast.
Epitome of loyalty
this small dog earned his world wide fame.
By keeping vigil faithfully.
Grey Friars Bobby was his name.
His statue stands for all to see.
Today keeps vigil in his stead
but Bobby has gone hopefully
to lie beside his master’s bed.
The tourists come from far and wide
to view his statue and to see
the place where Bobby lived and died
in Greyfriars cemetery.
27-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Mental Therapy
The following statement is true:
The previous statement is false.
I am torn and I am tossed,
Because I loved my mother
And hated my father
(One or the other) .
Every day I dread
Lie awake in bed):
Every night is a vigil,
For sleep is impossible.
He turns in the chair and says,
'We have to dig deeply into this.'
Psychology is to me vistigial,
Dream of reality, not physical,
Product of soothsayers who say no sooth.
Long in the tooth, they tell me
What I should examine;
But there is a famine:
A lack of truth, a paucity of wisdom.
I don't belong in their kingdom.
I think I'll go out for a smoke.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Poppy Brown and I
We've spent a lot of time together
Poppy Brown and I,
Sitting by the window-ledge
Staring at the sky;
Keeping silent vigil watching
Up and down the street,
Passing many moments, Listening for her feet.
We've spent a lot of time together
Poppy Brown and I,
Playing out the hours
Passing slowly by;
Keeping silent company,
Quiet as the moon,
Waiting for our loved one,
Hoping she'll come soon.
We've spent a lot of time together
Poppy Brown and I,
Loving at the window-ledge
Waiting by and by;
Keeping silent vigil,
Playing out the night,
Looking to each other,
A kiss and then a fight.
We've spent a lot of time together
Poppy Brown and I,
Waiting out the hours
Willing them to fly;
Keeping silent company,
Our mutual request:
The imminent arrival of
The one we love the best.
(Written 28th March 2006)
poem by John Carter Brown
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The wedding cake couple
The wedding cake couple
Held hands on-top in vigil
Clinging on to each other tightly
There ‘I do's' written in song
Lasted just as long as it took!
Mother in law to take another
Man across the ebony dance floor.
Her six more devoured the cake
But are wedding cake couple
They still held hands in vigil
On the last tier of the disaffected
So they pervaded and kissed
But then great grandma waltzed
In like an elephant to depose
All those who imposed self will
She cared little for our wedding cake couple
She snapped them down the middle
Just to see if they weren't just candy too.
But are wedding cake couple
They still held hands somewhere later
They pervaded and kissed
And renewed their vows
Clinging on to each other tightly,
There 'I do's' written in song
Lasted just as long as it took!
The disco-ball world to end...
poem by Mark Heathcote
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It was one long, anxious, inexorable, eternal vigil.
quote by Frank James
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We live in a nightmare of falsehoods, and there are few who are sufficiently awake and aware to see hings as they are. Our first duty is to clear away illusions and recover a sense of reality. If war should come, it will do so on account of our delusions, for which our hag-ridden conscience attempts to find moral excuses. To recover a sense of reality is to recover the truth about ourselves and the world in which we live, and thereby to gain the power of keeping this world from flying asunder.
quote by Nikolai Berdyaev
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Man's striving for order, of which art is but one manifestation, derives from a similar universal tendency throughout the organic world; it is also paralleled by, and perhaps derived from, the striving towards the state of simplest structure in physical systems.
quote by Rudolf Arnheim
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Long Way To Go
We still got a long way to go
We still got a long way to go
We all got a long way to go
What's keeping us apart isn't selfishness
What's holding us together isn't love
Listen to the man who's been
Touched all his life
Yes he's the one they call the fool
Where is the saviour of the sidewalk life
And the road that takes us to the crusades
I've seen the shadows
As they're moving in my sleep
Leading the blind poet to his grave
We still got a long way to go
We still got a long way to go
Yes we all got a long way to go
Please don't waste your energy on me my friend
Cause we still got a long way to go
We'll meet again some day
But right now just go away
Cause I still got a long way to go
The silence is speaking
So why am I weeping
I guess I love it
I love it to death
We still got a long way to go
Yes we still got a long way to go
Yes we all got a long way to go
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Wide The Dawn
How wide the Dawn
Is smiling!
How silent-new
The air is breathing!
How raw the sea
Without a wave
Is looking!
And in the night –
Id est last night
How strange
The owl chanteth!
How far, how far
Its cry did seem
And yet
It was so near!
How thrilled the tree
Below my lighted window
And in the night
The solemn night
The owl was still a-calling
To spirits wild
Perhaps
Or long white ghosts
Perhaps!
And in the eyes
Of the pale moon
The lake nearby glistened:
How white
How thin
The rays that fall
In midst of the dark waters!
And from the lake
A soundless sound
Is coming:
For in the waves
And from the waves
There comes a little gurgling
And in the night
In the long night
The owl is speaking, speaking!
Ah! this night – in the night
The people in the house
Are all a-sleeping
I – only I
The vigil, the night-vigil
Am making:
And I
And only I
Will my reward receive
For I
And only I
Am seeing
For I
And only I
Am hearing
And I
And only I
Am feeling!
How strange how sere
The feeling!
How from the clear night
The mist of sudden riseth!
And from afar
Past ten long fields
The cemetery is burning
With the pale light
Of the swift moon
That fall
On every wall
This long, long night!
It seems
It seems
That the cemetery’s open:
And yet
And yet
There is no noise
No sound
But from the yews
A soundless sound
Is coming:
A restless sound
Like souls
This night all-aching
And restless
Restless
At some thing
I am not hearing!
Ha! We on earth
Make prisons
And lodge
Bodies – human bodies in them:
And we on earth
Make cemeteries
And lodge
Bodies – human bodies in them
And the long night
Under the light
Of heaven
How waning-blue
And tight
Is coming!
So:
At long last
We fall into a prison
If not the one
In fine to the other
And at the last
And in the last
We enter our last prison:
And in the night
The long and lonely night
The cemetery is shining!
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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The progress of an artist is a continual self-sacrifice, a continual extinction of personality.
quote by T.S. Eliot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even In Love You Must Also Be Prepared
sometimes the drought comes
i know
sometimes it will take a very long time
for the rain to come back
we know it
sometimes all the waters in our well
get dry
and we all anticipate it
we are prepared
for all these
a long time now
i hate to say this to you
but i always know how to say goodbye too
with the dignity of decency
and you know it
and when will that be
i am keeping it suspended in the air
like the sword of Damocles
my world is always an open door
it closes when i say the word
and you know it very well
i once told you
nothing lasts forever
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When The East Awakes
When the east awakes,
The west goes to bed.
The east then keeps vigil...
Until the day does fade,
While the east wants rest.
Just then jumping on his
Feet rises the west.
God has divided duty
In such a divine way!
We must not break His law,
To usher in the good day!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Needs to marry.
‘How long should I sleep
keeping windows shut? ’
says a man, ‘I must marry’.
‘How long should I sleep
keeping windows open? ’
says a woman, ‘I must marry.’
After they get married,
Man feels cold and woman, sultry.
10.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Insomnia
Everyone is asleep
silence all around, not a peep,
Yet here i sit wide awake
can't sleep again even though its late,
Sleep evades me all the time
that why I'm up writing this rhyme.
Wanting a sleep so deep and natural
but its floating away down stream, like a Spanish mackerel,
really who knows how long I'll be up
maybe out to the kitchen for a warm tea cup
Now what else is there to say,
But looks like this could be a long day.
poem by Taylor Knapczyk
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A man of God
Instilled with the strength of character
Standing fixed amidst the storm of evil
Negating the rule of tyranny
Supporting the rule of good
Mesmerizing the world with his influence
Strengthening the foundation of his faith
Loving the poor and downtrodden
Hating the evils of the rich and powerful
Slapping across the face of arrogance
Keeping strict vigil around himself
A man of God is heading towards his destination Without any fear.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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