A Quote by Henry Noel Brailsford

Swans moulting die, snow melts to tears,
Roses do blush and hang their heads — © Henry Noel Brailsford
Swans moulting die, snow melts to tears, Roses do blush and hang their heads
And over the pond are sailing Two swans all white as snow; Sweet voices mysteriously wailing Pierce through me as onward they go. They sail along, and a ringing Sweet melody rises on high; And when the swans begin singing, They presently must die.
I sit in the sky like a sphinx misunderstood; My heart of snow is wed to the whiteness of swans; I hate the movement that displaces the rigid lines, With lips untaught neither tears nor laughter do I know.
There's a blush for won't, and a blush for shan't, and a blush for having done it: There's a blush for thought and a blush for naught, and a blush for just begun it.
If snow melts down to water, does it still remember being snow?
Tears are tears, but I don't want to draw tears that aren't proactive. The feeling "Ahh, it's so sad" when people die and it's all over, it doesn't feel quite right. Even though a lot of people died in Gintama. Even if people die, it's not the end. I don't want to draw tears that fall and stay at the same place, but droplets that sprinkle along the road to one's future.
Ever since Blessed Alan de la Roche re-established this devotion the voice of the people, which is the voice of God, called it the Rosary. The word Rosary means "Crown of Roses" that is to say that every time people say the Rosary devoutly they place a crown of one hundred and fifty-three red roses and sixteen white roses upon the heads of Jesus and Mary. Being heavenly flowers these roses will never fade or lose their exquisite beauty.
Grief melts away Like snow in May, As if there were no such cold thing.
Or like the snow falls in the river, A moment white-then melts for ever . . .
My lady's presence makes the roses red, because to see her lips they blush for shame.
Make no mistake, your relationships are the heaviest components in your life. All those negotiations and arguments and secrets, the compromises. The slower we move the faster we die. Make no mistake, moving is living. Some animals were meant to carry each other. To live symbiotically over a lifetime. Star crossed lovers, monogamous swans. We are not swans. We are sharks.
Pleasures don't last like the snow falls in the river, a moment white - then melts for ever.
Gaze not on swans, in whose soft breast, A full-hatched beauty seems to nest Nor snow, which falling from the sky Hovers in its virginity.
The cloudy weather melts at length into beauty, and the brightest smiles of the heart are born of its tears.
How strange it is, sometimes, which conversations or events stays with us while so much else melts as fast as April snow.
Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer, whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow
Swans sing before they die - 'twere no bad thing should certain persons die before they sing.
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