Sidney Lanier Quotes

16 Sourced Quotes

Music means harmony, harmony means love. Love means God.

Sidney Lanier
My priciple is, the artist shall put forth, humbly & lovingly, without bitterness, the very best & highest that is within him, utterly regardless of contemporary criticism.

Sidney Lanier
'Daring with my poem 'Special Pleading' to give myself such freedom as I desired, in my own style'

Sidney Lanier
But I cannot bring myself to believe that I was intended for a musician, because it seems so small a business in comparison with other things which, it seems to me, I might do. Question here: 'What is the province of music in the economy of the world?

Sidney Lanier
Into the woods, my Master went, Clean forspent, forspent, Into the woods my Master came, Forspent with love and shame. But the olives they were not blind to Him, The little gray leaves were kind to Him: The thorn-tree had a mind to Him, When into the woods He came.

Sidney Lanier
I will fly in the greatness of God as the marsh-hen flies,
In the freedom that fills all the space 'twixt the marsh and the skies.

Sidney Lanier
On Whitman - His poetry refreshed me like harsh salt spray.

Sidney Lanier
Look out, Death: I am coming.-Art thou not glad? what talks we'll have.-What memories of old battles.-Come, bring the bowl, Death; I am thirsty.

Sidney Lanier
Out of the woods my Master came,
Content with death and shame.
When Death and Shame would woo Him last,
From under the trees they drew Him last:
'Twas on a tree they slew Him--last
When out of the woods He came.

Sidney Lanier
Into the woods my Master went,
Clean forspent, forspent.
Into the woods my Master came,
Forspent with love and shame.

Sidney Lanier
Out of the hills of Habersham,
Down the valleys of Hall.

Sidney Lanier
Chime out, thou little song of Spring,
Float in the blue skies ravishing.
Thy song-of-life a joy doth bring
That's sweet, albeit fleeting.
Float on the Spring-winds e'en to my home:
And when thou to a rose shalt come
That hath begun to show her bloom,
Say, I send her greeting!

Sidney Lanier
Verse is a set of specially related sounds, repeated aloud.

Sidney Lanier
And yet shall Love himself be heard,Though long deferred, though long deferred:O'er the modern waste a dove hath whirred:Music is Love in search of a word.

Sidney Lanier
Ye marshes, how candid and simple and nothing-withholding and free Ye publish yourselves to the sky and offer yourselves to the sea!

Sidney Lanier
O Trade, O Trade! Would thou wert dead!The time needs heart - 'tis tired of head.

Sidney Lanier