They say that life is a highway and its milestones are the years,And now and then there's a toll-gate where you buy your way with tears.It's a rough road and a steep road and it stretches broad and far,But at last it leads to a golden Town where golden Houses are.

Joyce Kilmer

Categorized in : Years House Tears

I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree. by Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.

nature inspirational love

The air is like a butterfly by Joyce Kilmer

The air is like a butterfly

butterfly spring happiness

I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.

nature summer sweet

The fairy poet takes a sheet Of moonbeam, silver white; His ink is dew from daisies sweet, His pen a point of light.

angel light sweet

The only reason a road is good as every wanderer knows / Is just because of the homes, the homes, the homes to which one goes

journey reason home

I suppose I passed it a hundred times, But I always stop for a minute. And look at the house, the tragic house, The house with nobody in it.

house success looks

In a wood they call the Rouge Bouquet, by Joyce Kilmer

In a wood they call the Rouge Bouquet,

fighting men lying

There is no place in which to hide when Age comes seeking for his... by Joyce Kilmer

There is no place in which to hide when Age comes seeking for his bride.

brides old-age age

At present, I am a poet trying to be a soldier. To tell the truth, I am not interested in writing nowadays, except in so far as writing is the expression of something beautiful ... The only sort of book I care to write about the war is the sort people will read after the war is over - a century after it is over.

beautiful war book

Poems are made by fools like me, by Joyce Kilmer

Poems are made by fools like me,

fool nature tree

I think that I shall never scan A tree as lovely as a man. . . . . A tree depicts divinest plan, But God himself lives in a man.

tree men thinking

I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast.

tree sweet thinking

There is no peace to be taken by Joyce Kilmer

There is no peace to be taken

taken song war

For nothing keeps a poet by Joyce Kilmer

For nothing keeps a poet

hunger unattainable singing

It is stern work, it is perilous work, to thrust your hand in the... by Joyce Kilmer

It is stern work, it is perilous work, to thrust your hand in the sun

fire heart men

Things have a terrible permanence when people die. by Joyce Kilmer

Things have a terrible permanence when people die.

terrible dying people

What matters Death, if Freedom be not dead? by Joyce Kilmer

What matters Death, if Freedom be not dead?

what-matters fighting fire

IN MEMORIAM: FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE by Joyce Kilmer

IN MEMORIAM: FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE

fashion pain lying

When faith did come, it came, I think, by way of my little paralyzed daughter. Her lifeless hands led me; I think her tiny feet still know beautiful paths.

me daughter faith beautiful

I believed in the Catholic position, the Catholic view of ethics and aesthetics, for a long time. But I wanted something not intellectual, some conviction not mental - in fact I wanted faith.

ethics faith time long