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IMPERIVM

IMPERIVM

@imperivmrenaissance

"A Secure Family Is A Nation's Strength."

God, Family, OC & Classical Music.

Mirrored Song Archive @ImperivmClassics
Mirrored Literature Archive @ImperivmLibrary

Associated Chans-

ELYSIVM @TheMajestyOfTerraMater

Neon Boombox @NeonBoombox
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Recent Posts 16 shown
Post #17298 428
"He who fears death will never do anything worth of a man who is alive."

~Seneca


IMPERIVM
Post #17297 450
"The world hangs on a thin thread..."
By Carl Jung


IMPERIVM
Post #17296 431

Forwarded from ELYSIVM

"The secrets of nature are concealed; her agency is perpetual, but we do not always discover its effects; time reveals them from age to age; and although she is always the same in herself, she is not always equally well known."

Blaise Pascal
Post #17293 676
"If you haven’t the strength to impose your own terms upon life, then you must accept the terms it offers you."

~T.S. Eliot


IMPERIVM
Post #17292 885
"God creates out of nothing. Wonderful you say. Yes, to be sure, but he does what is still more wonderful: he makes Saints out of sinners."

~Søren Kierkegaard


IMPERIVM
Post #17289 810
Aldous Huxley on "This I Believe" Radio broadcast.

IMPERIVM
Post #17283 715

Forwarded from ELYSIVM

To Autumn
ByJohn Keats

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap'd furrow sound asleep,
Drows'd with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.

Where are the songs of spring? Ay, Where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The red-breast whistles from a garden-croft;
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies."
Post #17280 987
"If we are marked to die, we are enough to do our country loss; and if to live, the fewer men, the greater share of honor."

~William Shakespeare


IMPERIVM
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