bellasemplicita

Regaining a lost love for beauty and simplicity.

Tag: william blake

A Few Updates

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Since I have been so long absent, I hope it is alright if I share a few of the things happening in my life.

– I am enjoying my summer – immensely!  I am trying to really soak in the beauty of the smells of rain and dirt, the brilliance of green, the warmth of the sun, the smell of roses.  I run through a small forest preserve nearly every morning and I love that I am able to follow the change of the seasons in this place.  At the moment there are myriads of birds and in the morning their singing is so calming.

– I am attending Wheaton College in the fall.  I am so excited about this!  My good friend and I will be rooming together so we are busy planning our room and discussing the new excitements of college life in general.  I am entering as a Mathematics major (and no, I do not want to teach) and an Art History minor.

– Now for me, this is really big news: I am running Cross Country in college!!  This is huge because about eight months ago I absolutely hated to run.  However, after forcing myself to ‘do it’ nearly every morning, I realized I had fallen in love.  I am excited to begin training with a team and I hope I will be able to greatly improve my speed.

– Yes, there are many other important things happening in my life – perhaps I will share them at a later time.  But for now, I will end with an extract from a poem by William Blake.

‘And we are put on this earth a little space

that we may learn to bear the beams of love.’

Autumn

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O Autumn, laden with fruit, and stain’d
With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit
Beneath my shady roof; there thou may’st rest,
And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe,
And all the daughters of the year shall dance!
Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

“The narrow bud opens her beauties to
The sun, and love runs in her thrilling veins;
Blossoms hang round the brows of Morning, and
Flourish down the bright cheek of modest Eve,
Till clust’ring Summer breaks forth into singing,
And feather’d clouds strew flowers round her head.

“The spirits of the air live in the smells
Of fruit; and Joy, with pinions light, roves round
The gardens, or sits singing in the trees.”
Thus sang the jolly Autumn as he sat,
Then rose, girded himself, and o’er the bleak
Hills fled from our sight; but left his golden load.

– To Autumn, William Blake