Writer’s Wisdom

Avoid cliques, gangs, groups. The presence of a crowd won’t make your writing any better than it is. ~ Zadie Smith

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Hope ~ Anonymous

Never go gloomy, man with a mind,
    Hope is a better companion than fear;
  Providence, ever benignant and kind,
    Gives with a smile what you take with a tear;
      All will be right,
      Look to the light.
  Morning was ever the daughter of night;
  All that was black will be all that is bright,
     Cheerily, cheerily, then cheer up.

  Many a foe is a friend in disguise,
    Many a trouble a blessing most true,
  Helping the heart to be happy and wise,
    With love ever precious and joys ever new.
      Stand in the van,
      Strike like a man!
  This is the bravest and cleverest plan;
  Trusting in God while you do what you can.
     Cheerily, cheerily, then cheer up.

Anonymous

Just be Glad ~ Riley

O heart of mine, we shouldn’t
      Worry so!
  What we’ve missed of calm we couldn’t
      Have, you know!
  What we’ve met of stormy pain,
  And of sorrow’s driving rain,
  We can better meet again,
      If it blow!

  We have erred in that dark hour
      We have known,
  When our tears fell with the shower,
      All alone!—

Were not shine and shower blent
  As the gracious Master meant?—
  Let us temper our content
      With His own.

  For, we know, not every morrow
      Can be sad;
  So, forgetting all the sorrow
      We have had,
  Let us fold away our fears,
  And put by our foolish tears,
  And through all the coming years
      Just be glad.

James Whitcomb Riley

The Arrow and the Song ~ by Longfellow

The Arrow and the Song

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air.

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air.

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For who has sight so keen and strong

That it can follow the flight of song.

Long, long afterward, in an oak,

I found the arrow still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

Cherokee Blessing

Cherokee Prayer Blessing

May the Warm Winds of Heaven
Blow softly upon your house.
May the Great Spirit
Bless all who enter there.
May your Mocassins
Make happy tracks
in many snows,
and may the Rainbow
Always touch your shoulder.

– Found on: http://www.sapphyr.net/natam/quotes-nativeamerican.htm

Let Me Go Where I Will ~ Poem by Emerson

Let me go where’er I will,

I hear a sky-born music still:

It sounds from all things old,

It sounds from all things young,

From all that’s fair, from all that’s foul,

Peals out a cheerful song.

It is not only in the rose,

It is not only in the bird,

Not only where the rainbow glows,

Nor in the song of woman heard,

But in the darkest, meanest things

There alway, alway something sings.

‘Tis not in the high stars alone,

Nor in the cup of budding flowers,

Nor in the redbreast’s mellow tone,

Nor in the bow that smiles in showers,

But in the mud and scum of things

There alway, alway something sings.

—Ralph Waldo Emerson.

“On Another’s Sorrow” Poem by William Blake

On Another’s Sorrow

Can I see another’s woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief,
And not seek for kind relief?
Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow’s share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow filled?
Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird’s grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear—
p. 30And not sit beside the nest,
Pouring pity in their breast,
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant’s tear?
And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
O no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!
He doth give His joy to all:
He becomes an infant small,
He becomes a man of woe,
He doth feel the sorrow too.
Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not near.
O He gives to us His joy,
That our grief He may destroy:
Till our grief is fled and gone
He doth sit by us and moan.