A Quote by Isoroku Yamamoto

Today, as chief Of the guardians of the seas Of the land of the dawn, I gaze up with awe At the rising sun! — © Isoroku Yamamoto
Today, as chief Of the guardians of the seas Of the land of the dawn, I gaze up with awe At the rising sun!
At end of Love, at end of Life, At end of Hope, at end of Strife' At end of all we cling to so- The sun is setting-we must go. At dawn of Love, at dawn of Life, At dawn of Peace that follows Strife, At dawn of all we long for so- The sun is rising-let us go.
Yet never sleep the sun up. Prayer shou'd Dawn with the day. There are set, awful hours 'Twixt heaven and us. The manna was not good After sun-rising; far day sullies flowres. Rise to prevent the sun; sleep doth sin glut, And heaven's gate opens when the world's is shut.
Sweet it is, when on the high seas the winds are lashing the waters, to gaze from the land on another's struggles.
Jesus is the sun and Mary is the dawn announcing his rising.
A rising nation, spread over a wide and fruitful Land, traversing all the seas with the rich production of their Industry.
I saw two clouds at morning Tinged by the rising sun, And in the dawn they floated on And mingled into one.
Night falls. Or has fallen. Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn? Yet if you look east, at sunset, you can see night rising, not falling; darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon, like a black sun behind cloud cover. Like smoke from an unseen fire, a line of fire just below the horizon, brushfire or a burning city. Maybe night falls because it’s heavy, a thick curtain pulled up over the eyes. Wool blanket.
The tail of the comet slashed the dawn and in the red light of the rising sun, for a brief instant, it seemed as if the comet was bleeding across the sky.
And God must be a pretty big fan of today, because you keep waking up to it. You have made known your request for a hundred different yesterdays, but the sun keeps rising on this thing that has never been known. Yesterday is dead and over. Wrapped in grace. Those days are grace. You are still alive, and today is the most interesting day. Today is the best place to live.
Whilst the last members were signing it Doctr. Franklin looking towards the Presidents chair, at the back of which a rising sun happened to be painted, observed to a few members near him, that Painters had found it difficult to distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun.
Dor woke again as dawn came. The sun had somehow gotten around to the east, where the land was, and dried off so that it could shine again.
When drawing the sun, try to have on hand colored paper, chalk, felt-tip markers, crayons, pencils, ball point pens. You can draw a sun with any one of them. Also remember that sunset and dawn are the back and front of the same phenomenon: when we are looking at the sunset, the people over there are looking at the dawn.
This / is the use of trampolines / I will remember, the broken sunlight / Coming through the trees in a strange / Land, and lighting up my rising / And falling children, and their friends, / And the apples falling, / The new trees rising.
As we drifted to earth I sat up on the glass roof of the capsule, watching the beauty of the golden dawn as it broke over the desert. This was a day I never thought I'd see and the rising sun and growing warmth of the day seemed very precious. It made me aware that hard-won things are more valuable than those that come too easily. It reminded me to always enjoy the moment.
He lowered the window, and looked out at the rising sun. There was a ridge of ploughed land, with a plough upon it where it had been left last night when the horses were unyoked; beyond, a quiet coppice-wood, in which many leaves of burning red and golden yellow still remained upon the trees. Though the earth was cold and wet, the sky was clear, and the sun rose bright, placid, and beautiful.
Winter Song The browns, the olives, and the yellows died, And were swept up to heaven; where they glowed Each dawn and set of sun till Christmastide, And when the land lay pale for them, pale-snowed, Fell back, and down the snow-drifts flamed and flowed. From off your face, into the winds of winter, The sun-brown and the summer-gold are blowing; But they shall gleam with spiritual glinter, When paler beauty on your brows falls snowing, And through those snows my looks shall be soft-going.
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