A Quote by Dafydd ap Gwilym
Triumphant hours are the Lark's
Who circles skywards from his home each day:
World's early riser, with bubbling golden song,
Towards the firmament, guardian of April's gate.
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Pippa's Song The year's at the spring The day's at the morn Morning's at seven, The Hill side's dew-pearled The lark's on the wing The snail's on the thorn God's in his heaven- All's right with the world
I'm an early riser, which is sometimes a drag when I have late-night concerts. But I prefer to wake up early - say, 8:30 - and maybe take a nap during the day.
Out of my deeper heart a bird rose and flew skywards.
Higher and higher did it rise, yet larger and larger did it grow.
At first it was but like a swallow, then a lark, then an eagle, then as vast as a spring cloud, and then it filled the starry heavens.
Out of my heart a bird flew skywards. And it waxed larger as it flew. Yet it left not my heart.
I'm an early riser. I get up between five and six, have coffee, and read for a couple of hours before everyone else gets up.
Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours For one lone soul another lonely soul, Each choosing each through all the weary hours, And meeting strangely at one sudden goal, Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers, Into one beautiful and perfect whole; And life's long night is ended, and the way Lies open onward to eternal day.
I henceforth tread the world, chaste, temperate, an early riser, a steady grower.
In nature everything is valuable, everything has its place. The rose, the daisy, the lark, the squirrel, each is different but beautiful. Each has its own expression. Each flower its' own fragrance. Each bird its' own song. So you too have your own unique melody.
The grave is Heaven's golden gate,
And rich and poor around it wait;
O Shepherdess of England's fold,
Behold this gate of pearl and gold!
I'm a very early riser, and I don't like to miss that beautiful early morning light.
I'm an early riser. I work out really hard. I push myself; I get my job done, and at the end of the day, there's a Guinness waiting for me.
And now the herald lark Left his ground-nest, high tow'ring to descry The morn's approach, and greet her with his song.
I been a wanderin'
Early and late,
New York City
To the Golden Gate
An' it looks like
I'm never gonna cease my
Wanderin'.
Some think we each have a guardian angel while others think we don't have an assigned guardian angel, while yet others think God at times - but not always and not by assignment to each of us - sends an angel on a mission of guarding. The Bible's evidence that each of us has a specific, assigned guardian angel is not as solid as some think, so I'm with those who think sometimes God sends guardian angels but that we don't have a specific guardian angel.
Spring had come. Despite the many wet and gusty days which April had thrust in rude challenge upon reluctant May, in the glory of the triumphant sun which flooded the concave blue of heaven and the myriad shaded green of earth, the whole world knew to-day, the whole world proclaimed that spring had come. The yearly miracle had been performed.
If anybody wanted to photograph my life, they'd get bored in a day. 'Heres Matt at home learning his lines. Here's Matt researching in aisle six of his local library'. A few hours of that and they'd go home.
Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth.
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