| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Golden Threshold by Sarojini Naidu: I have some very beautiful poems floating in the air," she wrote
to me in 1904; "and if the gods are kind I shall cast my soul
like a net and capture them, this year. If the gods are
kind--and grant me a little measure of health. It is all I need
to make my life perfect, for the very 'Spirit of Delight' that
Shelley wrote of dwells in my little home; it is full of the
music of birds in the garden and children in the long arched
verandah." There are songs about the children in this book; they
are called the Lord of Battles, the Sun of Victory, the
Lotus-born, and the Jewel of Delight.
"My ancestors for thousands of years," I find written in one of
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle: and at his side hung his bugle horn. As thus he walked up
a forest path, whistling, down another path came the Tinker,
muttering to himself and shaking his head like an angry bull;
and so, at a sudden bend, they met sharply face to face.
Each stood still for a time, and then Robin spoke:
"Halloa, my sweet bird," said he, laughing merrily, "how likest
thou thine ale? Wilt not sing to me another song?"
The Tinker said nothing at first but stood looking at Robin with a grim face.
"Now," quoth he at last, "I am right glad I have met thee, and if I do not
rattle thy bones within thy hide this day, I give thee leave to put thy foot
upon my neck."
The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Master of Ballantrae by Robert Louis Stevenson: a Court and to reap laurels in the field. Our meeting was the more
welcome to both, as he was one of the few Scots who had used the
Irish with consideration, and as he might now be of very high
utility in aiding my escape. Yet what founded our particular
friendship was a circumstance, by itself as romantic as any fable
of King Arthur.
This was on the second day of our flight, after we had slept one
night in the rain upon the inclination of a mountain. There was an
Appin man, Alan Black Stewart (or some such name, (2) but I have
seen him since in France) who chanced to be passing the same way,
and had a jealousy of my companion. Very uncivil expressions were
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