Hymn of the City
Not in the solitude
Alone may man commune with heaven, or see
Only in savage wood
And sunny vale, the present Deity;
Or only hear his voice
Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice.
Even here do I behold
Thy steps, Almighty!--here, amidst the crowd,
Through the great city rolled,
With everlasting murmur deep and loud--
Choking the ways that wind
'Mongst the proud piles, the work of humankind.
Thy golden sunshine comes
From the round heaven, and on their dwellings lies,
And lights their inner homes;
For them thou fill'st with air the unbounded skies,
And givest them the stores
Of ocean, and the harvests of its shores.
Thy spirit is around,
Quickening the restless mass that sweeps along;
And this eternal sound--
Voices and footfalls of the numberless throng--
Like the resounding sea,
Or like the rainy tempest, speaks of thee.
And when the hours of rest
Come, like a calm upon the mid-sea brine,
Hushing its billowy breast--
The quiet of that moment too is thine;
It breathes of him who keeps
The vast and helpless city while it sleeps.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Deity
You want a deity?
Come
Pickup a stone or wood log
Have some sindur
Have some flowers
Have some agarbati
Light wick
Deity formed.
Worship it.
Your deity is
Ready to give you
What you want.
Pray before the deity
With heart and soul.
The deity never
Try to and never
Done anything
That would put loss.
It is you to decide
How far you believe
On your deity
How far you have
Trust on Him.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Hear Your Voice
To hear you voice, brings warmth
the soft tone and the sexy accent
the elegant sound of words together
make the heart pitter patter
your whisper brings goosebumps of love
from a father to hear you talk reminds me
of how your voice cares, like your beauty
to call and hear your voice brings joy of love
picturing you near and by my side
how comfort you voice makes me
to hear you sing is a angel from heaven
the laughter is joy of humor we make
the tears brings crackles to your sound
breaks my heart to it so.
saying I Love You returns your smiles
whisper to me how you feel
I need to hear the voice of love and joy
sweet voice of yours make the world turn
poem by Michael Peterson
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My Piney Wood
I have a tiny piney wood;
my trees are only fifty,
Yet give me shade and solitude
For they are thick and thrifty.
And every day to me they fling
With largess undenying,
Fat cones to make my kettle sing
And keep my pan a-frying.
Go buy yourself a piney wood
If you have gold for spending,
Where you can dream in mellow mood
With peace and joy unending;
Where you can cheerfully retreat
Beyond all churchly chiding,
And make yourself a temple sweet
Of rapturous abiding.
Oh silence has a secret voice
That claims the soul for portal,
And those who hear it may rejoice
Since they are more than mortal.
So sitting in my piney wood
When soft the owl is winging,
As still as Druid stone I brood . . .
For hark! the stars are singing.
poem by Robert William Service
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Let Us Pray
(words & music by b. kaye - b. weisman)
Come praise the lord for he is good
Mmm come join in love and brotherhood
Well hear the word and bring our gifts of bread and wine
And well be blessed beneath the sign
So let us pray together, pray together
Pray with the one mighty voice (heavenly voice)
And let us sing together, sing together
Pray and well rejoice (well rejoice)
When strangers reach out for your hand (for your hand)
Respond to them and understand (heaven obeyed to understand)
Well rise as one to calm the storm outside the gate (calm the storm)
With faith in him well never leave (never leave)
So let us pray together, pray together
Pray with the one mighty voice (heavenly voice)
And let us sing together, sing together
Pray and well rejoice (well rejoice)
(well rejoice)
The love of God is on our side (love is, love is on our side)
We have the strength to move the tide (well move the tide)
The world will say so, therell be peace and love for all (love for all)
And we must give our brothers love
So let us pray together, pray together
Pray with the one mighty voice (heavenly voice)
And let us sing together, sing together
Pray and well rejoice (well rejoice)
Love for all, love for all to the lord
Well rejoice love for all to the lord
Well rejoice love for all to the lord
Well rejoice for the lord
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snatching solitude
Snatching solitude from sleep
For a few wakeful hours, to reclaim myself
From the web of relationships that define us
And the responsibilities that dictate our days
Now that isn’t such a wise thing!
Doctors often say, while they tend to the heart
As an organ, rarely seeing the soul
That needs mending too
But now that stillness overcomes hurtling day
I tend to my temple
That stands with windows open
Welcoming new winds from o’er the land
That quiet corner is my favourite place
Where a candle glows, softly
Lighting up dark corners, and freeing my spirit
To commune with the vastness beyond
Sometimes a quiet whisper holds clues
To a story yet to unfold, while at others
The quiet holds me in a warm embrace
While I snatch solitude from sleep.
poem by Anita Atina
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Remembrance
I adore the rise of moon
and the stars shining bright
bringing me your remembrance
in the solitude of night.
Moonlight seems flowery spread on earth
merging in the sea
river quenching its thirst
waves exulting in expectations
rejoice and swoon
under the moon & moonlight
when I remember you
in the solitude of night.
Decked with flowers
lass on a swing
like a cuckoo,
she then sings
and shehnai being played far off, echoing.
Hoping to meet her beloved,
she blossoms like a flower of mustard
song of separation makes love deep
her love erupts when separation seeps
all bringing me your remembrance
in the solitude of night
under the moonlight.
Putting me in trance
resonance of your voice
watching me in this state
you glow and rejoice
casting a spell, who deserts me at dawn
remembrance comes again then
under the moonlight
in the solitude of night.
I adore the rise of moon
and the stars shining bright
bringing me your remembrance
in the solitude of night.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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Out of all the masts [Dintre sute de catarge]
Out of all the masts that sail
Far away when the sea raves
How many will be destroyed
By the winds and by the waves?
Out of all the birds that fly
Over lands with their wings
How many will be wiped out
By the waves and by the winds?
If you chase away your luck
Your ideals and your aims
You'll be followed everywhere
By the winds and by the waves.
And your thought remains unknown
When you gently sing your hymns
But is carried all around
By the waves and by the winds.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by Octavian Cocoş
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The Next Voice You Hear
Gather your deeds and your possessions,
Whatever certainty youve known,
Forget your heroes,
You dont really need those lasting lessons.
Stand in the open;
The next voice you hear will be your own.
But, alright, they knew how they could hurt you,
And you let them cut you to the bone.
But God forbid,
You allow them to rid you of your virtue!
Forget their laughter;
The next voice you hear will be your own.
The next voice you hear...
The next voice you hear...
The next voice you hear...
The next voice you hear...
The next voice you hear...
The next voice you hear will be your own.
Throw down your truth and check your weapons.
Dont look to see if youre alone,
Just stand your ground,
And dont turn around -- whatever happens.
Dont ask directions;
The next voice you hear will be your own.
The next voice you hear...
The next voice you hear...
The next voice you hear...
The next voice you hear...
The next voice you hear...
The next voice you hear will be your own.
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Solitude
A glass of red wine spent
Recalling life's events
Crowded in my skin
In Solitude
Relishing a melody of lament
Drifting through my window
Gliding in uninvited
In solitude
Last night I cried out loud
For the sake of hearing a sound
Though I did not hear me
In solitude
Gawking at my naked fear
Of living a life unseen
Yearning to belong
In solitude
I woke up in the evening
Read a book out loud
My voice wavering
In Solitude
As the heroine yearned
In an isolated crowd
To be loved
In solitude
I walked around naked
In my new home
My skin in flames
In solitude
Every molecule of air
Brushing against me
Scorched in vain
In solitude
It was raining that morn
When I came to life
My throat stinging
In solitude
I see no soul
I hear no breathing
I smell no skin
In solitude
I mourn not waking up
Next to my beloved
To warm my frozen hind
In solitude
Yet, I feel no cold
And life goes on
As I bury myself
In solitude
poem by Deva De Silva
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Ifs
OH! if the winds could whisper what they hear,
When murmuring round at sunset through the grove;
If words were written on the streamlet clear,
So often spoken fearlessly above:
If tell-tale stars, descending from on high,
Could image forth the thoughts of all that gaze,
Entranced upon that deep cerulean sky,
And count how few think only of their rays!
If the lulled heaving ocean could disclose
All that has passed upon her golden sand,
When the moon-lighted waves triumphant rose,
And dashed their spray upon the echoing strand.
If dews could tell how many tears have mixed
With the bright gem-like drops that Nature weeps,
If night could say how many eyes are fixed
On her dark shadows, while creation sleeps!
If echo, rising from her magic throne,
Repeated with her melody of voice
Each timid sigh-each whispered word and tone,
Which made the hearer's listening heart rejoice.
If Nature could, unchecked, repeat aloud
All she hath heard and seen-must hear and see-
Where would the whispering, vowing, sighing crowd
Of lovers, and their blushing partners, be?
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Bits of Life
Life is no sanctuary
Of desire and fulfillment
Each day extends
Vagaries of nothingness
And I go on
Eating solitude and slow time
Bit by bit
With silence.
My walks to the beach
Brings images intermixed
The chopping of waves
The hustling of winds
Amid chicken roasting streets
And I go on
Eating solitude and slow time
Bit by bit
With silence.
I often ask,
Is it my life
For which I pursued forth?
Mind approves…
Heart denies…
And I go on
Eating solitude and slow time
Bit by bit
With silence.
My look to the East
Brings memories on sea waves,
Children, wife, parents,
Kinsfolk, friends, teachers…
Inheriting a loss,
I go on
Eating solitude and slow time
Bit by bit
With silence.
(Composed on15 Jan.2009 in Tripoli)
poem by Vachaspati Dwivedi
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Through The Wood
THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood,
Love and I went maying a thousand lives ago;
Shafts of golden sunlight had made a golden bright wood
In my heart reflected, because I loved you so.
Through the wood, the chill wood, the brown wood, the bare wood,
I alone went lonely no later than last year,
What had thinned the branches, and wrecked my dear and fair wood,
Killed the pale wild roses and left the rose-thorns sere?
Through the wood, the dead wood, the sad wood, the lone wood,
Winds of winter shiver through lichens old and grey,
You ride past forgetting the wood that was our own wood
All our own--and withered as ever a flower of May.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Call Of April
April calling, April calling,
April calling me!
I hear the voice of April there
In each old apple tree:
Bee-boom and wild perfume,
And wood-brook melody,
O hark, my heart, and hear, my heart,
The April Ecstasy!
Hark to the hills, the oldtime hills,
That talk with sea and sky!
Or speak in murmurs with God's winds
Who on their bosoms lie:
Bird-call and waterfall
And white clouds blowing by,
O hark, my heart, O hear, my heart,
The April's cosmic cry!
There runs a whisper through the woods,
The word of bough to bough,
A sound of dead things donning green,
Of Beauty waking now:
Fern-bower and wilding flower,
Each like a prayer or vow,
O see, my heart, O look, my heart,
Where Earth crowns white her brow!
And far away, and far away,
Yet nearer than she seems,
Look where she takes the oldtime trail
And walks again with dreams:
Bird note and blue remote
And laughter of wild streams,
O hark, my heart, O hear, my heart,
And follow where she gleams!
Earth has put off her winter garb
Of gray and drab and dun,
And robes herself in raiment green
Of love and laughter spun:
Wood-bloom and wood-perfume
And colors of the sun,
O hark, my heart, O hear, my heart,
Where her wild footsteps run!
O April, mother of my soul,
Take to your heart your child:
And let him lie a little while
Upon its rapture wild:
Lean close and near, and let him hear
The words that once beguiled,
And on his eyes the kiss again
Of longing reconciled.
O kiss, that fills the fields with flowers
And thrills with green each grove,
Dream down into this heart again
And grow to songs thereof:
Wild songs in singing throngs,
That swift shall mount above,
And, like to birds, with lyric words,
Take Earth and Heaven with love.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Spelling My Name
I heard you spelling my name
I answered in the winter winds
the winds that blame
my voice still - your words bid.
My winds shied - a darkened bride.
My winds cried, and then I died.
A call of altitudes waving a hand
A Deadly Nightshade, of Nyx
distance egressed,
a word uphill, your primal twinge.
My voice edges - my call subsides.
Crucifix wedges, my rain decides.
I heard the night calling my worth
I answered in the snowy landscape
your form came forth
a gleam so still, your bluish drape.
Snowy nights, my solitude's witches.
The Hydra's bark like razor etches.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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0007 Rilke on Solitude
If you notice that solitude is great,
rejoice because of this.
For what would solitude be
that had no greatness? There is
but one solitude, and that is great,
and not easy to bear,
and to almost everybody come hours
when they would gladly erxchange it for any sort of intercourse,
however banal and cheap; with the first comer,
with the unworthiest...
but perhaps those are the very hours
when solitude grows, for
its growing is as painful as the growing of boys
and sad as the beginning of springtimes.
To be solitary, the way one was solitary as a child,
when the grownups went around involved with things
that seemed important and big
because they themselves looked so busy
and because one comprehended nothing of their doings.
Be close to things; they will not desert you;
there are the nights still
and the winds that go through the trees
and across many lands;
among things and with the animals
everything is still full of happening
in which you may participate;
and children are still the way you were as a child,
sad like that and happy,
- and if you think of your childhood
you live among them again.
(Abstracted from Rilke's letters to a young poet)
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Ballad of Joe and Satchong
There's a lady from the orient sea
Such winsome lady and lovely
With her voice so sweet to hear
Melodious within the wind zephyr
A sweet rhythmic sound like a song
A pleasing tune of such song
That enchanted this fellow
And made his heart glow
Ah - lovely voice, said Joe
That encourage him to go
Or search for that voice
That makes his heart rejoice
He followed the gentle breeze
Across Atlantic and Pacific seas
As the ocean waves and rolls
He goes on with the gentle breeze with goals
In the air is the song for Joe
That makes his heart glow
And search that voice
That makes his soul rejoice
So within the breeze is the song
Said Joe, Oh what a lovely song
And so melodious voice
That makes my heart rejoice
He continue to follow gentle breeze
Across Atlantic and Pacific seas
There in the orient sea he found that such song
is from the lovely lady named Satchong
With the little winged Cherubim
Coveted them and their love woven
Their love are like in the air
Life like the gentle wind zephyr
'til now their love so sweet like a song
With this couple Joe and Satchong
So blessed with bright lifetime
So solid maybe until the end of time
poem by Ency Bearis
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The Wood By The Sea
I DWELL in the wood that is dark and kind
But afar off tolls the main,
Afar, far off I hear the wind,
And the roving of the rain.
The shade is dark as a palmer's hood,
The air with balm is bland:
But I wish the trees that breathe in the wood
Were ashes in God's hand.
The pines are weary of holding nests,
Are aweary of casting shade;
Wearily smoulder the resin crests
In the pungent gloom of the glade.
Weary are all the birds of sleep,
The nests are weary of wings,
The whole wood yearns to the swaying deep,
The mother of restful things.
The wood is very old and still,
So still when the dead cones fall,
Near in the vale or away on the hill,
You can hear them one and all.
And their falling wearies me;
If mine were the will of God,–oh, then
The wood should tramp to the sounding sea,
Like a marching army of men!
But I dwell in the wood that is dark and kind,
Afar off tolls the main;
Afar, far off I hear the wind
And the roving of the rain.
poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
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Memories
I see wild waves that break, and breaking-run;
And the wild sea-birds wheeling round the ships;
But at the dawn, the coming of the sun,
I see your red, red lips.
I see the cold moon now with fresh delight;
And the stars arise anew, and yet arise;
But in the night, the blackness of the night
I see your sad, sad eyes.
I hear the engines throbbing as we ride;
And the men’s songs. I hear great throats
Rejoice.
But in the silence, when all the songs have died,
I hear your soft, soft voice.
poem by Leon Gellert
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Spring's Whisper
Whispers reach with silkened sigh.
Upon spun wings of time they fly ~
through forests tall and stately bound,
across the brown and barren ground.
Hushed within dark wintry night.
Chilled by nature's frosty sight.
Whispers whisper to the sea ~
Upon new winds a change there'll be.
Above the mountains whispers soar,
a whisper now at heaven's door.
Change follows in expectant glee.
Upon new winds a change there'll be.
Through meadows far ~ they whisper long,
breathing breaths of springtime song.
Alas, sweet wisps of warming see.
Upon new winds a change there'll be.
Awakened by the silkened sigh
of whispers softly flying by ~
earth absorbs the sighs like rain
as springtime whispers once again.
Whispers reach with silkened sigh.
Upon spun wings of time they fly,
to spread their whispers ~ o'er land and sea
Upon new winds a change there'll be.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Love's Shadows
THERE come dull days in love's clear atmosphere,
When clouds and doubt obscure the wide expanse.
The woods are still; no songs of birds entrance;
No sunlight falls, and desolate and drear,
As if harmonious with the lurking fear
5
Which sucks love's peace, the leaden waves that glance
From rock-bound coast the general gloom enhance;
And spectral winds are wailing far and near.
When suddenly, and oft in darkest hour,
I hear some strain of music, or some voice,
10
Or some of thy drear writing chance I see,
When, lo! The spell is broken, and the power
Of darkness, earth, and sea, and sky rejoice,
And all my being thrills with songs of thee.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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