#wilfred blunt

[archivist-dragonfly]

Book 534

The Illustrated Herbal

Wilfred Blunt and Sandra Raphael

Thames and Hudson 1979

Of all the illuminated manuscripts that survive from the Middle Ages and early Renaissance, herbals form one of the rarest and most interesting categories. This superbly illustrated book, with 64 color plates and 80 black and white woodcuts and engravings, traces the evolution of manuscript herbals from their decoration and medical/botanical interest before moving through the development of printed herbals from woodcuts to the metal engravings of the 18th and early 19th centuries. With some truly gorgeous examples on display, this is an excellent survey of European herbals that offers surprises throughout due to depictions of botanical specimens that are occasionally amazingly modern looking and incredibly accurate.

[poemoftheday]

Poem of the Day 30 January 2024

Wilfrid Scawen Blunt. b. 1840

The Two Highwaymen

I LONG have had a quarrel set with Time Because he robb'd me. Every day of life Was wrested from me after bitter strife: I never yet could see the sun go down But I was angry in my heart, nor hear The leaves fall in the wind without a tear Over the dying summer. I have known No truce with Time nor Time's accomplice, Death.   The fair world is the witness of a crime Repeated every hour. For life and breath Are sweet to all who live; and bitterly The voices of these robbers of the heath Sound in each ear and chill the passer-by. —What have we done to thee, thou monstrous Time? What have we done to Death that we must die?

[veys-pngs]

The Art of Botanical Illustration ; Wilfred Blunt & William T. Stearn ; 1950-1994

consider browsing my main for more f2u resources! <3

[apoemadaykeepsthehoesaway]

Arms And The Boy

- Wilfred Owen (1893-1918)

Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade

How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood;

Blue with all malice, like a madman’s flash;

And thinly drawn with famishing for flesh.

•

Lend him to stroke these blind, blunt bullet-leads,

Which long to nuzzle in the hearts of lads,

Or give him cartridges whose fine zinc teeth

Are sharp with sharpness of grief and death.

•

For his teeth seem for laughing round an apple.

There lurk no claws behind his fingers supple;

And God will grow no talons at his heels,

Not antlers through the thickness of his curls.

[gwydionmisha]

Arms and the Boy - Wilfred Owen

Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood; Blue with all malice, like a madman's flash; And thinly drawn with famishing for flesh. Lend him to stroke these blind, blunt bullet-leads, Which long to nuzzle in the hearts of lads, Or give him cartridges of fine zinc teeth Sharp with the sharpness of grief and death. For his teeth seem for laughing round an apple. There lurk no claws behind his fingers supple; And God will grow no talons at his heels, Nor antlers through the thickness of his curls.

[lunapwrites]

Reblogging this again because I just. I cannot.

Literally I do not go here, I have no context for this scene outside the obvious in the gifset, but I'm foaming at the mouth about this soldier forgetting the words to Wilfred "Greatest WW1 Poet" Owens' Anthem for Doomed Youth.

This is the poem they've blown out of his head. This is the poem they've replaced with men screaming. A poem about death and suffering and the dehumanization of war.

I am. I just.

There's so much I want to say about this but my ability to intelligently articulate literary analysis has been blunted by time, disuse, and the eight month old currently rolling around behind me, so all I can get out is chewing drywall.

Anyway if anyone needs me I'll be on the floor weeping forever.

no mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells...fuck. fuck, i forgot the words.

SAS Rogue Heroes | 2.03

[christinamac1]

TODAY. Alexei Navalny - the paradox of his legacy

Whatever you think of Alexei Navalny, he didn’t deserve what was done to him. I’ve written before on how the USA government prefers to kill people slowly, with finesse – as in the case of Julian Assange, (.and way way back, Wilfred Burchett.) The czarist way is more blunt and definite, as in the case of Alexander Litvinenko – a cruel poisoning. Now Alexei Navalny, a determined opponent of…

[thebadtimewolf]

i bet the one thing that will get yall to call 14 as 14 instead of tenthree is him chomping on a pear with no hesitation at the mention of rose tyler. holding the pear like its a drumstick chicken leg. just to throw you off your rhythm.

the reference has to come from wilfred (yes you will cry but 14 wont. its heavy hitter)

its been 4 billion years since doomsday with him. hes not only gotten over it, hes thrown any rose-related grief to donna and it shows. glaringly. loudly.

i am going to cry if i see wilfred do you understand? which means if he mentions rose i will cry because he mentioned her. i will not notice much else in those episodes other than how extremely blunt and open 14 is now. his soul on his sleeve now in front of wilfred - theres no filter and i fear yall aint gonna like that when 14 start hitting some hard truths that make you think the dr is self contradictory and that makes them oo

[stardustizuku]

He, Who Crossed The Goddess

At this point, Lady Rozemyne has gone far beyond a mere Saint. She is grand enough to be called a genuine goddess, yet [they] think she would want to rule their equally worthless duchy?

~ Wilfred x Rozemyne Playlist

I Just Can’t Wait to Be King - Jason Weaver // A Spoonful of Sugar - Julie Andrews // A Very Nice Prince - Anna Kendrick & Emily Blunt // Five Years - Bo Burnham // Farmer Refuted - Thayne Jasperson // I Can’t Decide - Scissor Sisters // The Main Character - Will Wood // Wait For It - Leslie Odom Jr // Two Birds - Regina Spektor // Allies or Enemies - Crane Wives // Biggering - The 88 // Achilles Come Down - Annapantsu // Your Obedient Servant - Leslie Odom Jr & Lin Manuel Miranda // No Children - The Mountain Goats // Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Lorde // The Family Jewels - MARINA // Thumbs - Sabrina Carpenter // Labour - Paris Paloma // My Goodbye - Jorge Rivera // Your Sister Was Right - Wilbur Soot // Christmas Kids - Roar

[insilverrolled]

Arms and the Boy

By Wilfred Owen [x]

Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood; Blue with all malice, like a madman's flash; And thinly drawn with famishing for flesh.

Lend him to stroke these blind, blunt bullet-leads, Which long to nuzzle in the hearts of lads, Or give him cartridges of fine zinc teeth Sharp with the sharpness of grief and death.

For his teeth seem for laughing round an apple. There lurk no claws behind his fingers supple; And God will grow no talons at his heels, Nor antlers through the thickness of his curls.

[thedeafprophet]

 Austin's poems are little remembered today, his most popular work being prose idylls celebrating nature. Wilfred Scawen Blunt wrote of him, “He is an acute and ready reasoner, and is well read in theology and science. It is strange his poetry should be such poor stuff, and stranger still that he should imagine it immortal.

lmao imagine following Tennyson like that. how did this guy even get the title

 was appointed Poet Laureate in 1896, after an interval following the death of Tennyson, when the other candidates had either caused controversy or refused the honour.

ah okay

so i guess timeline wise Jamie knocked out this guy from consideration akdkflgglhl. even tho they showed in 98'

[ottoman-empire]

Avrupa'nın bunca asırdır Müslümanlığın sembolü olarak gördüğü Osmanlı Türklerinin birgün bu dinden çıkmaları, târihin enterasan bir intikamı olacaktır.Yine de bu, çocuklarımızın veya torunlarımızın yaşayarak görebileceği bir intikam olacaktır.

İngiliz Casus Wilfred Blunt (1882)

[kevkebus-subh]

"Avrupa'nın bunca asırdır Müslümanlığın sembolü olarak gördüğü Osmanlı Türklerinin birgün bu dinden çıkmaları, târihin enterasan bir intikamı olacaktır.Yine de bu, çocuklarımızın veya torunlarımızın yaşayarak görebileceği bir intikam olacaktır..."

İngiliz Casus Wilfred Blunt (1882)

[violettesiren]

Where art thou, thou lost face, Which, yet a little while, wert making mirth At these new years which seemed too sad to be? Where art thou fled which for a minute's space Shut out the world and wert my world to me? And now a corner of this idle Earth, A broken shadow by the day forgot, Is wide enough to be thy hiding place, And thou art shrunk away and needest not The darkness of this night to cover thee. Where art thou hidden? In the boundless air My hands go forth to thee, and search and feel As through the universe. I hold the night Caught in my arms, and yet thou art not there. Where art thou? What if I should strike a light So suddenly that thou couldst never steal Back to thy shadows? What if I should find Thee standing close to me with all thy hair Trailing about me and thine eyes grown blind With looking at me vainly through the night? There are three rings upon thy hand to--night, One with a sapphire stone, and one there is Coiled like a snake, and one on which my name Is written in strange gems. By this dim light I cannot read if it be writ the same. See, I have worn no other ring but this! Why dost thou look at it with eyes estranged? Is it not thine?--Ah, God! Thou readest right! And it is changed, and thou and I are changed, And I have written there another name. Oh happiness, how has it slipped away! We, who once lived and held it in our hand! What is the rest that these new years can bring? Did we not love it in our love's to--day, And pleasure which was so divine a thing, The sweetest and most strange to understand? And that is why it left regret behind, As though a wild bird suddenly should stay A moment at our side and we should find When we looked up that it had taken wing. And thou, hast thou forgotten how to love? Hast thou no kissing in thy lips? Thy tongue, Has it no secret whisper for my ear? I have been watching thee to see thee move A little closer to my side in fear Of the long night. Oh, there is room among The pillows for thy head if thou wouldst sleep! And thou art cold, and I would wrap my love To my warm breast and so my vigil keep And be alone with darkness and with her. Thou standest with thy hand upon my heart, As once thou used to stand, to feel it beat. Doth it beat calmer now than in those days? Thy foolish finger--tips will leave a smart, If they so press upon my side. Thy gaze Is burning me. Oh speak a word and cheat This darkness into pain, if pain must be, And wake me back to sorrow with a start, For I am weary of the night and thee And thy strange silence and thy stranger face. Canst thou not speak? Thy tale was but begun. How can I answer thee a tale untold? Whisper it quick before the morning break. How loud thou weepest! Listen, there is one Dreaming beside me who must not awake. Close in my ear !--Ah! child, thy lips are cold, Because thou art forsaken.--Misery! Is there not room enough beneath the sun For her, and thee, and me?

In the Night by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

[universitybookstore]

AWAY TO EGYPT Enough, enough! This winter is too rude, Too dark of countenance, of tooth too keen. Nature finds rebels now in flesh and blood, And hearts grow sick for change and eyes for green. Let us away! What profits it that men Are wise as gods, if winter holds its sway, If blood be chilled, and numbness clasp the brain? Frost is too stubborn. Let us then away! Away to Egypt! There we may forget All but the presence of the blessed sun. There in our tents well--housed, sublimely set Under a pyramid, with horse and gun, We may make terms with Nature and, awhile, Put as it were our souls to grass, and run Barefooted and barehearted in the smile Of that long summer which still girds the Nile. 

-- Wilfred Scawen Blunt

[chaoticallycosmic]

Meet the love of my life...

Name: Atalanta Rhea Variel Official Title(s): While her mother is Queen and she is the princess of her kingdom, her full title is; Her Royal Highness Princess Atalanta Rhea Variel of Allasegno. When she ascends to the throne it changes to; Her Royal Majesty Queen Atalanta Rhea Variel of Allasegno. Nickname(s): Many of her friends/colleagues call her Lanta, and she will let people know if they can call her that or not. Her grandparents adoringly call her, Ata. Lucian Bole is the only one allowed to call her Lanty. Species: A shapeshifter | witch - meaning she can shift into any animal she wants/chooses. She will have to shift during the full moon. Unlike other shifters though, she can change her eye and hair color at will. She can perform magic with something they call a stele and with hieroglyphics. Age: 30 - 35. Date of birth: June 15. Zodiac: Gemini Orientation: Heterosexual Height: 5'10" Eye color: Naturally hazel-green Hair color: Naturally dark brown General Appearance: Atalanta is tall at 5'10" with a slender build. With her hazel eyes and naturally dark brown shoulder-length wavy hair. Distinguishing Features: Her lips and her ever-color-changing hair and eyes, which are always changing depending on how she feels that particular day, thanks to her shifting abilities. Atalanta can also sprout magnificent wings - a gift from the deity her people call Alpha, the first shifter to ever exist when she was twelve. Tattoos: Atalanta has five tattoos: One on her right arm: reads: Joy, vertically. The second one is almost beside her right breast and it is a crescent moon. The third is on her left foot and it reads Balance - a bit of an inside joke with those who know and her clumsy ways. The last one is on her left shoulder blade - the words Live Free with a picture of seven birds in flight. The fifth is a tiger that spans from her left hip to her left thigh, a tattoo she got with Waverly Greene, her best friend. Birthmarks: There is one on her right shoulder blade in the shape of a crescent moon, which marks her as Alpha's first and only heir. Parents: Elizabeth Nymeria Variel & Jonathan Emeric Variel. Siblings: Aerion Xavier Variel (Older brother). Grandparents: Paternal grandparents; Marie and Wilfred Variel | Maternal grandparents; Alma and Nathaniel Waneta. Friendships: Atalanta's friendships vary, she has very few close friends, however, but she is friendly to almost everyone who is friendly in return. Personality: Witty, carefree but a little cautious, blunt, speaks her mind at all times, honest, not very trusting unless she knows you, loyal, studious, and a bookworm at heart. Has a short temper. She is a hit-first, ask-questions-later type of person. Drinks | Smokes | Drugs: Occasionally | Rarely | Never Health: Considerably well Injuries: As a child, Atalanta broke many bones, as she is a wild soul, and as a child, she was always going on adventures; climbing trees, exploring caves, and diving into the ocean. Hobbies: Reading, exploring different cultures and countries, cooking and baking, gardening, studying all she can about magical creatures but mostly dragons, learning any new languages possible, star gazing, trying to explore as much as the ocean as possible, extreme sports.

Notes: I will play her in the supernatural genre, as well as the normal one - where she isn't a shifter or magical person but she will be human and the princess of Greece. I am world-building her first novel.