John Masefield
John Masefield
John Edward Masefield, OMwas an English poet and writer, and Poet Laureate of the United Kingdom from 1930 until his death in 1967. He is remembered as the author of the classic children's novels The Midnight Folk and The Box of Delights, and poems, including "The Everlasting Mercy" and "Sea-Fever"...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth1 June 1878
laughter laughing lasts
In this life he laughs longest who laughs last.
love love-is fire
Love is a flame to set the will on fire
horse flower men
I have seen flowers come in stony places And kind things done by men with ugly faces, And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races, So I trust, too.
travel stars rain
Only the road and the dawn, the sun, the wind, and the rain, And the watch fire under stars, and sleep, and the road again.
life song sea
On the long dusty ribbon of the long city street, The pageant of life is passing me on multitudinous feet, With a word here of the hills, and a song there of the sea And-the great movement changes-the pageant passes me.
sarcastic broken faces
His face was filled with broken commandments.
time interesting people
People who leave their own time out of their work cannot be surprised if their time fails to find them interesting.
beautiful hate ignorance
There are few earthly things more beautiful than a university a place where those who hate ignorance may strive to know, where those who perceive truth may strive to make others see.
men journey leading-me
Most roads lead men homewards, My road leads me forth
wine
Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French.
spring rain april
I have seen the Lady April bringing the daffodils, Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm April rain.
weather two sailing
Off Cape Horn there are but two kinds of weather, neither one of them a pleasant kind.
life love-is men
Love is a flame to burn out human wills, Love is a flame to set the will on fire, Love is a flame to cheat men into mire.
life kings taken
All ye that pass by! While we least think it he prepares his Mate. Mate, and the King's pawn played, it never ceases, Though all the earth is dust of taken pieces.