Introduction and Welcome

Welcome to All Things Bright and Beautiful. If you are new to this site, I would recommend that you read my very first entry - which is an introduction and welcome to this blog. You can view it here

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Elizabeth Gardner Bouguereau - Young Girl With a Basket of Grapes, Beethoven Piano Concerto 5 Movement 1 Allegro, Amy Carmichael

Elizabeth Jane Gardner Bouguereau
Young Girl With a Basket of Grapes by
Elizabeth Gardner Bouguereau

Ludwig Von Beethoven - Piano Concerto 5 Movement 1 Allegro
Part 1 -
Part 2 -

More of Amy Carmichael's wonderful poetry:

Lord, I would take Thy comfortings
  With both hands gratefuly,
And grief's dark overshadowings,
  As lightly as may be--
For they belong to evenings;
  Joy comes with day to me,
Comes running with the day to me.

Although my wayside inn at night
  May harbor grief as guest,
With dawn he swiftly takes his flight--
  And like a bird to nest,
Dear joy comes singing with delight,
  As she comes home to rest;
Dear joy comes singing home to rest.

The Sky
In me is light:
Consider well my sun, his rise, his setting;
My glory of noon.
Let there be no forgetting
My sparkling dust of stars; my exceeding bright
And quiet moon;
My swift, forked lightnings.  Where, if not in me,
Is there illumination?  Filled am I
With light that passeth all things.
    Thus, the sky.

The Sea
In me is light:
Most wondrous is the glory of my gleaming;
My waterways,
With delicate sunbeams dreaming
In intricate, netted dances do unite.
My very haze
Is luminous; and my night is lit with lamps
Mysteriously moving.  Yea, in me
Is all illumination.
     Thus, the sea.

The Earth
In me is light:
My flowers are dressed in garments light-enwoven'
My creatures reign
Royal in colors.  Cloven
By fire or frost, my substance, depth or height,
Discovers vein
On vein of lustrous metals, jewel beds,
Hidden illumination.  All the mirth
O lightsome things possess I.
     Thus, the earth.
  *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   
I listen to the voices of the sky;
I listen to the voices of the sea;
The earth, with all her various loveliness, sings
Sweet songs to me.
But something in me wanders wistful still,
Beyond the light of earth and sea and sky
Is there no light beside?
I stand outside life's shining palace halls,
Will no one come, interpret mysteries,
Unlock the gate?
*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *    *   *   *   *   
After this I looked, and behold,
A door was opened in heaven.
And by desire made bold,
Forward I ran, and saw the ColorsSeven
Entangled as a rainbow caught in spray,
Over-arch the way;
Whence issued pure, foam-white,
From fountain springs of light,
The exhaustless love of the Lord.
(O rich reward
For poverty of yearning!)
Glowing, burning,
I had felt the heats of the world's brilliance pass;
As withered grass
They left me, scorched by the very glow.

No penetrating 
Through the last layers of the dusty clod
I call my soul, the love of God,
Lover of lovers, came
Keen as a flame,
By that strange, spiritual brightness, my waste lands.
And lo,
The whole wide world did to my Lover sing
In colors; even the desert sands
Were quickened and were green, recovering
All in a moment, verdure.  And a rain
Mixed with the light, swept by and cleansed the air.

Oh, it was beautiful,
Beyond the reach
Of mind to think it, heart to adore it--
All previous lights paled utterly before it.
I stood upon the beach
Of infinite joys and gazed
And gazed again,
All humbled and amazed
By the tumultous rush of mine own happiness
And only knew to bless
The Giver and confess
Myself content to be forever there.

Till a familiar voice came unto me and said:
"Although life shed
Her visible glories, still do thou believe.
Doubt not what thou hast seen; rather, retrieve
Thine own--for no decptive dream,
To fade or fail,
That vision beautiful.
But thou must learn to prevail 
By force of faith.  Be humble, dutiful,
Sincere, without offence,
And quick to penitence;
And put far from thee vanity and lies,
Thy stedfast eyes
Set on the invisible.  And know
Assuredly: above, below,
Behind the changes of thy changeful heart,
Behind the fluctuations of thy will,
Uninfluenced by the influences of time,
The love of the Lord, once thine,
Continues with thee.  Part
In no wise from this assurance; let it fill
Thy being with its gladness.  In thy God
Learn thou to hold thee still.

"Then, in those desperate moments when there slips
Sense of possession from thee,
And fear strips
Feeling from off thee,
And thou standest alone--
Then, then, oh be it known
Through to the core of thee, that Love remains!
For no bewildering pains
Of life or death can wrest her from thee,
No, not even stains
Or shadows of thy sin dim her illumination;
Her tranquility
Shaming thy restlessness,
Her light, like to a pearl most precious."

Fell quietness then, and hushed me.  All creation
Lay  back from me, as owning
Itself surpassed. And as a homing,
Tired bird returns into her nest,
My soul returned unto her rest.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Elizabeth Gardener Bouguereau - The Imprudent Girl, Ludwig Von Beethoven,- Spring and Amy Carmichael

What do you think is the story behind this painting by
Elizabeth Gardner Bouguereau?
Elizabeth Jane Gardner Bouguereau
The Imprudent Girl by Elizabeth Gardner Bouguereau

Ludwig Van Beethoven's Spring Sonata for Violin and Piano I Allegro is a beautiful piece.  I hope you enjoy it.

Poems by Amy Carmichael

When I refuse the easy thing for love of my dear Lord,
And when I choose the harder thing for love of my dear Lord,
And do not make a fuss or speak a single grumbling word;
  That is discipline.

When everything seems going wrong and yet I will not grouse,
When it is hot, and I am tired, and yet I will not grouse,
But sing a song and do my work in school and in the house;
  That is discipline.

When Satan whispers, "Scamp your work"--to say to him, "I won't,"
When Satan whispers, "Slack a bit"--to say to him, "I won't,"
To rule myself and not to wait for others' "Do" and "Don't";
  That is discipline.

When I look up and triumph over every sinful thing,
The things that no one knows about--the cowardly, selfish thing--
And when with heart and will I live to please my glorious King;
  That is discipline.

To trample on that curious thing inside me that says "I,"
To think of others always--never, never of that "I,"
To learn to live according to my Savior's word, "Deny";
  That is discipline.

I want to climb the air;
I want to find the stair,
But I cannot find it anywhere.

I know quite well there are
Great things up there--far, far;
I should like to stand upon a star.

But though I cannot go
So far away, quite low
Many little, lovely, dear things grow.

As surely as the shadows of night
Give way to the splendor of morning,
So, sorrow may lodge for a night,
But joy shall come in the morning.

O Giver of songs in the night,
O Lord of the stars of the morning,
We praise Thee, for Thou art our Light,
And Thy kindness is new every morning.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Elizabeth Gardener Bouguereau - The Farmer's Daughter, Ludwig Von Beethoven-- Moonlight Sonata

Elizabeth Jane Gardner Bouguereau
The Farmer's Daughter by Elizabeth Gardner Bouguereau
Notice all the variety in the chickens that this girl is feeding and the wonderful use of color and repetition of red throughout this painting by Elisabeth Gardner Bouguereau.

Today's piece by Ludwig Van Beethoven is called Moonlight.  Can you "hear" moonlight when you listen to this piece?  
You can listen to it at the following link: or watch it played here:

Amy Carmichael poems for this week are:

When the morning stars sang together, and all
The sons of God shouted for joy,
He was there--who was laid in a manger made
For teh little calves of the stall:
  The king, the King of Eternity,
  Laid His glory by for thee and for me.

Who hung the round world upon nothing--He lay
A babe on His mother's lap.
Who made of the clouds swaddling bands for the sea,
Her gentle hands did Him wrap:
  The King, the King of Eternity,
  Laid His glory by for thee and for me.

Oh, well may we love our kingly Lord,
Oh, well may we love our King
Who for love of us all became weak and small
As any baby thing.
  The King, the King of Eternity,
  Laid His glory by for thee and for me.

Each has its little life to live;
Each has its death to die.
But each is such a minute speck of life
That though we may fervently try,
We cannot concern ourselves very much
Whether it live of die.

Are we as minute to the angels who look
Down from their place in the sky?
Do the great people there
Very greatly care
Whether we laugh or cry?
To them are we mere little atoms of life
That are born, grow old, and die?

No, no.
It is not so:
For One who is higher than they 
Took flesh of our flesh and stooped to die
In pitiful, human way.

And ever since that wonderful day
When the Highest lifted us high,
To the angels we are not common clay,
Not morsels and motes to come and to go,
But beings beloved, in whom they know
Is the mystic seed of eternity:
They see in us that which yet shall be.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Elizabeth Gardener Bouguereau -

 I thought this painting by Elizabeth Gardener Bouguereau of the two girls feeding the bird was fun.  What kind of fruit do you think the girls are feeding the bird?

Ludwig Von Beethoven wrote the following beautiful and peaceful piece of music called "Pathetique" Sonata in C minor II Adagio Cantabile.

I hope you have been enjoying the poetry of Amy Carmichael as much as I have!  Here are two more of her works.

                   FOR JESUS
Jesus, Savior, dost Thou see
When I'm doing things for Thee?
Common things, not great and grand:
Carrying stones, and earth and sand?

"I did common work, you know,
Many, many years ago;
And I don't forget.  I see
Everything you do for Me."

               JESUS' WAYS
If Jesus built a ship,
   She would travel trim;
If Jesus roofed a barn,
   No leaks would be left by Him;
If Jesus planted a garden,
   He would make it like Paradise;
If Jesus did my day's work,
   It would delight His Father's eyes.