Quotes about ode (11 Quotes)



    Poetry often introduces a mythological dimension which reflects the close connections between the gods and commonly encountered trees. A passage from Vergil's Georgics, in which the poet enumerates grafted trees and miraculous growth, incorporates several such mythological references myrtles, sacred to Venus the poplar, crown of Hercules and the acorns of Jupiter's symbolic oak, referring to his grove at Dodona. The pine was held sacred to Pan, the Roman Faunus, and in his Eclogues Vergil describes the pastoral god's home on Mt. Maenalus in Arcadia. Propertius stresses the god's fondness for the tree, and Horace, for his part, dedicates a pine to the goddess Diana in a famous ode.



    She dotes on poetry, sir. She adores it I may say that her whole soul and mind are wound up, and entwined with it. She has produced some delightful pieces, herself, sir. You may have met with her Ode to an Expiring Frog,' sir.


    Those who draw their sustenance from science are blessed. It is for me to only derive an occasional pleasure. This is nothing worthy of conceit, but I am indeed touched by the joys. This book is an ode to such joys, a digest of my collections from various sources.


    It is not an ode to the '60s RB legends and their lead singer. A lot of these songs are our responses to how we thought people would feel about us a year from when we were writing them, ... When you suddenly get successful, people are very interested in being your muse.

    Richard Hawley occupies a special place not only in the history of pop music, but also in the history of Home Entertainment. Hawley's album Coles Corner, an existential ode to the city of Sheffield that is sung with a crooner's sense of melody and romantic melancholy, stands out as one of the great records of recent years. And he is the first person in five years to cook the Home Entertainment team a square meal. You couldn't come to Sheffield and not try a bit of Henderson's Relish, ... That's not right, is it

    The nearer I approach the end, the clearer I hear around me the immortal symphonies of the worlds which invite me. It is marvelous yet simple. For half a century I have been writing my thoughts in prose, verse, history, drama, romance, tradition, satire, ode and song I have tried all but I feel that I have not said a thousandth part of that which is in me. When I go down to the grave I can say like many others, 'I have finished my day's work' but I cannot say, 'I have finished my life's work' my day's work will begin the next morning. The tomb is not a blind alley. It is an open thoroughfare. It closes in the twilight to open in the dawn. My work is only beginning my work is hardly above its foundation. I would gladly see it mounting forever. The thirst for the infinite proves infinity.




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