Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 3, 2025
To enjoy freedom and air and elbow-room he cheerfully puts aside all that society can offer, and stints himself and bears adversity with a calm and steadfast soul. To be free, unbeholden, lord of himself and his surroundings that is the wine of life to a mountaineer. Such a man cannot stand it to be bossed around. If he works for another, it must be on a footing of equality.
"They were purple of raiment and golden, Filled full of thee, fiery with wine, Thy lovers in haunts unbeholden, In marvellous chambers of thine," is beautiful language, but not the only sort of beautiful language. This, for instance, has also a tune in it "I 'next poet. No, my hearties, I nor am, nor fain would be!
Now Pentheus from a lofty cliff was watching all, deep hidden in an ancient lentisk hush, a plant of that land. Autonoe first beheld him, and shrieked a dreadful yell, and, rushing suddenly, with her feet dashed all confused the mystic things of Bacchus the wild. For these are things unbeholden of men profane. Frenzied was she, and then forthwith the others too were frenzied.
They do not admire the austere determination of these young men to make their work independent and self-supporting and unbeholden to adventitious dainties. They cannot understand this passion for works that are admirable as wholes, this fierce insistence on design, this willingness to leave bare the construction if by so doing the spectator may be helped to a conception of the plan.
Let but her shadow fall across my eyes, And straight my dreams exulting truths will rise! And soft as, when, purple and golden, The clouds of the evening descend, So had she drawn nigh unbeholden, And wakened with kisses her friend." Never had song a stranger accompaniment than this song; for the air was full of fierce noises near and afar. Again the colonel went to the window.
"Ye who regret suns that have set, Lo, each god of the ages golden, Here is enshrined, ageless and kind, Unbeholden the dark years through. Their faithful oracles yet bestowing, By laurels whisper and clear streams flowing, Or the leafy stir of the Gods' own going, In oak trees blowing, may answer you!" From PEREGRINA'S SONG
"What can we do o'er whom the unbeholden Hangs in a night, wherewith we dare not cope; What but look sunward, and with faces golden, Speak to each other softly of our Hope?" There's not a bonnie flower that springs By fountain, shaw, or green, There's not a bonnie bird that sings, But minds me of my Jean. Only a child of Nature's rarest making, Wistful and sweet and with a heart for breaking.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking