|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Songs of Travel by Robert Louis Stevenson:
Hail me a warrior fallen in war.
XXXIX - TROPIC RAIN
AS the single pang of the blow, when the metal is mingled well,
Rings and lives and resounds in all the bounds of the bell,
So the thunder above spoke with a single tongue,
So in the heart of the mountain the sound of it rumbled and clung.
Sudden the thunder was drowned - quenched was the levin light -
And the angel-spirit of rain laughed out loud in the night.
Loud as the maddened river raves in the cloven glen,
Angel of rain! you laughed and leaped on the roofs of men;
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from A Voyage to Abyssinia by Father Lobo:
confirms them in their present ignorance and superstition. When the
pile is burnt, and the discourse at an end, every one makes a large
present to the priest, which is the grand design of this religious
To return to the course of the Nile: its waters, after the first
rise, run to the eastward for about a musket-shot, then turning to
the north, continue hidden in the grass and weeds for about a
quarter of a league, and discover themselves for the first time
among some rocks--a sight not to be enjoyed without some pleasure by
those who have read the fabulous accounts of this stream delivered
by the ancients, and the vain conjectures and reasonings which have
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Spirit of the Border by Zane Grey:
"So it's all settled, Jim, that we stay here," said Nell.
"Yes, dear. Colonel Zane has offered me work, and a church besides. We are
very fortunate, and should be contented. I am happy because you're my wife,
and yet I am sad when I think of--him. Poor Joe!"
"Don't you ever think we--we wronged him?" whispered Nell.
"No, he wished it. I think he knew how he would end. No, we did not wrong him;
we loved him."
"Yes, I loved him--I loved you both," said Nell softly.
"Then let us always think of him as he would have wished."
"Think of him? Think of Joe? I shall never forget. In winter, spring and
summer I shall remember him, but always most in autumn. For I shall see that
The Spirit of the Border