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John of the Cross

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My Beloved is the mountains,
The solitary wooded valleys,
The strange islands,
The roaring torrents,
The whisper of the amorous gales;
The tranquil night
At the approaches of the dawn,
The silent music,
The murmuring solitude,
The supper which revives, and enkindles love. ~ 14 & 15

 
John of the Cross

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In solitude she lived,
And in solitude built her nest;
And in solitude, alone
Hath the Beloved guided her,
In solitude also wounded with love. ~ 35

 
John of the Cross
 

Speak, vision of the night,
Tell me why you haunt me so...
Speak, heaven morning light,
Whisper all my heart would know.
Dawn never finds you,
Gone back to where the Shadows dwell...
Speak, my beloved, speak,
tho' you only say farewell!

 
Mike Oldfield
 

Oh, night that guided me, Oh, night more lovely than the dawn,
Oh, night that joined Beloved with lover, Lover transformed in the Beloved!

 
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After supper we are sitting close to the church in a quiet spot. As if from a distance we hear prayers and singing. The monks are holding their vesper services. Then it falls silent, wonderfully silent!
The sun has already set. ... We are quiet, too. ... A door is closed somewhere. A man's, then a woman's voice. Children are praying! My dear Jesus! Then it falls silent again. Wonderfully silent!
The night spreads its wide, black wings over the land.

 
Joseph Goebbels
 

I love tranquil solitude,
And such society
As is quiet, wise, and good;
Between thee and me
What difference? but thou dost possess
The things I seek, not love them less.

 
Percy Bysshe Shelley
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