All Is Vanity, Saith the Preacher
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine,
And health and youth possess'd me;
My goblets blush'd from every vine,
And lovely forms caress'd me;
I sunn'd my heart in beauty's eyes,
And felt my soul grow tender;
All earth can give, or mortal prize,
Was mine of regal splendour.
I strive to number o'er what days
Remembrance can discover,
Which all that life or earth displays
Would lure me to live over.
There rose no day, there roll'd no hour
Of pleasure unembitter'd;
And not a trapping deck'd my power
That gall'd not while it glitter'd.
The serpent of the field, by art
And spells, is won from harming;
But that which coils around the heart,
Oh! who hath power of charming?
It will not list to wisdom's lore,
Nor music's voice can lure it;
But there it stings for evermore
The soul that must endure it.
poem by Byron (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
All Is Vanity, Saieth the Preacher
I.
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine,
And health and youth possess'd me;
My goblets blush'd from every vine,
And lovely forms caress'd me;
I sunn'd my heart in beauty's eyes,
And felt my soul grow tender:
All earth can give, or mortal prize,
Was mine of regal splendour.
II.
I strive to number o'er what days
Remembrance can discover,
Which all that life or earth displays
Would lure me to live over.
There rose no day, there roll'd no hour
Of pleasure unembitter'd;
And not a trapping deck'd my power
That gall'd not while it glitter'd.
III.
The serpent of the field, by art
And spells, is won from harming;
But that which coils around the heart,
Oh! who hath pwer of charming?
It will not list to wisdom's lore,
Nor music's voice can lure it;
But there it stings for evermore
The soul that must endure it.
All Is Vanity, Saieth the Preacher
I.
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine,
And health and youth possess'd me;
My goblets blush'd from every vine,
And lovely forms caress'd me;
I sunn'd my heart in beauty's eyes,
And felt my soul grow tender:
All earth can give, or mortal prize,
Was mine of regal splendour.
II.
I strive to number o'er what days
Remembrance can discover,
Which all that life or earth displays
Would lure me to live over.
There rose no day, there roll'd no hour
Of pleasure unembitter'd;
And not a trapping deck'd my power
That gall'd not while it glitter'd.
III.
The serpent of the field, by art
And spells, is won from harming;
But that which coils around the heart,
Oh! who hath pwer of charming?
It will not list to wisdom's lore,
Nor music's voice can lure it;
But there it stings for evermore
The soul that must endure it.
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine
(All is vanity, saith the preacher)
I
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine,
And health and youth possess'd me;
My goblets blush'd from every vine,
And lovely forms caress'd me;
I sunn'd my heart in beauty's eyes,
And felt my soul grow tender;
All earth can give, or mortal prize,
Was mine of regal splendour.
II
I strive to number o'er what days
Remembrance can discover,
Which all that life or earth displays
Would lure me to live over.
There rose no day, there roll'd no hour
Of pleasure unembitter'd:
And not a trapping deck'd my power
That gall'd not while it glitter'd.
III
The serpent of the field, by art
And spells, is won from harming;
But that which coils around the heart,
Oh! who hath power of charming?
It will not list to wisdom's lore,
Nor music's voice can lure it;
But there it stings for evermore
The soul that must endure it.
poem by Byron from The Hebrew Melodies (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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What Power Mine Will Enfold You?
I incorporate choices
I incorporate changes
I incorporate divisions
I incorporate decisions
Power of ability is mine
Power of selection is mine
Power of preference is mine
Power of effectiveness is mine
Power to worship is mine
Power to dominate is mine
Power to destroy create is mine
Power to possess materialism is mine
Power to sow hate is mine
Power to seed seek revenge is mine
Power to consume self in lust fits is mine
Power to heal restore soul potentialities is mine
Power to love is gift mine
Power to embrace beauty sublime is mine
Power to twinkle flower into star shine wishes is mine
Power to absorb kingdom of God into immortality eternity is mine
All these diverse choices are potent yours or mine?
All which choices will you I embrace exert decline?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Paris and the Golden Apple
The best of possessions
I am holding in my hand-
The Golden Apple on which is written-
'For the most fairest'.
Strange is the way Fate works,
And I, a mortal, is chosen to select
Who among Hera, Athene and Venus
is the most fairest!
Hera said-
'Power is the ultimate goal of life,
every head must bow down before power-
with love or with fear-
The world stands before you trembling,
And you will govern it with iron rod.
Give me the apple and see
what I have to offer.'
Athene Said -
Knowledge is Power, and
Power is but the shadow of Wisdom-
always following like a faithful servent;
I will bless you with the light of wisdom
And elighten your soul from within
So that you can judge the past, present and future.
Venus smiled and said -
What drink can quench the thirst of the soul?
And can remove the hundred fevers of heart?
Can Wisdom or Power do this?
no, they don't.
Only Beauty can touch the soul softly
and can revive its vitality.
Then give me the apple and in return
Take the best of gifts the world can offer-
The most beautiful woman as your wife.
What a real dellima I am in!
Which on to chose, which one to avoid-
between Power, Wisdom and Beauty?
Power is a weapon,
But, Wisdom is the mind's eye,
Yet Beauty is the only pleasure
of the eye and soul.
So, Beauty I prefer to Power and Wisdom;
I will offer the apple to Venus
and will have the most beautiful woman as my wife.
Did Paris make a mistake
In chosing Beauty over Power and Wisdom?
Well, History holds proof of this-
Look at the burning Troy
and take lesson therefrom;
Let not one more Troy burn,
Let not one more Paris is born.
poem by Nazmul Haque
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The Happiest Day, the Happiest Hour
The happiest day- the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.
Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass.
And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!
The happiest day- the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see- have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel- have been:
But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt- that brightest hour
I would not live again:
For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd- fell
An essence- powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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the Happeist Day' - Edgar A. Poe
The happiest day - the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.
Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass.
And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!
The happiest day - the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see - have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel- have been:
But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt - that brightest hour
I would not live again:
For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd - fell
An essence - powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.
- Edgar Allen Poe
poem by Erica Green
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The Power of a Man
The power of a mam's eyes, how they pierce into my soul,
Which can make a love ignite, or tear apart something once whole,
The power of a mn's eyes, how they judge you with their stare's,
The pwer to degrade you, or foolishly make you believe they care,
The power of a man's lips, colliding together with mine,
Showing how much he loves me, as our tongues slowly entertwine,
The power of a man's lips, to cause me so much pain,
Curse words roll off his tongue, calling my hurtful names,
The power of a man's hands, how they caress my body and skin,
Luring me into adultery, oh, what a satifying sin,
The power of a man's hands, to painfully strike my face,
Blows go to the body, now he's fastening the pace,
The power of a man's heart, some big others small,
He who chooses to love, or not to love at all,
The power of a man's heart, from tthis his pride he gains,
The power to choose to hate me, or to love me just the same,
poem by Niakeva Thomas
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Three Gods Best Avoided
Power, pleasure and fame are three Gods best avoided
Power for leading only to its own corruption
And denial of death where power ends.
Pleasure for its involution upon the self
Where freedom lies in finding others
The self a false center.
Fame for ephemeral lure
To those deprived of love's true nourishing milk
Easily forgetting that ax murderers
Have fame to no avail.
Power, pleasure and fame are three Gods best avoided.
poem by Bill Grace
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The Unimaginable
Something happened
Its wonderful
I've never felt it before
Its like....butterflies
You can do it
We all can
We have the power
To do the unimaginable
We have the power to live
To dance like no ones watching
To sing like no one cares
To just be
You can do it
Whatever you want
Its your choice
Go ahead
The unimaginable
What is it to us?
The power or will?
The time you take?
We have the power to live
The wisdom to make it
Your world or mine
Power is yours
What are you going to do?
poem by Robin Parker
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I Believe In the Power
I believe in the power of you.
As the rain falls upon us and
everyone else scatters.
I believe in the power of you.
As I look into the shadowy pools
of your mysterious eyes.
I believe in the power of you.
As I fall into your arms always
trusting you to catch me.
I believe in the power of you.
As you listen while I pour my
heart and I cry my eyes out to you.
I believe in the power of you.
As I sit and listen to your
words, your wisdom filtering your deep voice.
I believe in the power of you.
As I lay in your warm embrace
feeling protected and cherished.
I believe in the power of you.
As you turn away and walk out
the door, promising to come back.
I believe in the power of you.
As I sit waiting patiently
for some sign of you to return.
I believe in the power of you.
As even now I doubt all my
faith in the one person I truly love.
I believe in the power of you.
As I sit here crying and swearing
wishing you could hear me.
I believe in the power of you.
As I begin to lose passion for
everything I loved when I was with you.
I believe in the power of you.
As I lay dying in bed suffering
from a broken heart.
I believe in the power of you.
As I close my eyes and an
image of you forms in my mind.
I believe in the power of you.
As I begin to feel a rage that
is red hot and will not go away.
I believe in the power of myself.
As i see your true image; a true
image of who you are inside.
I believe in the power of myself.
As I begin to build my life up and
start doing the things I enjoy.
I believe in the power of myself.
As I understand the things that
were so illusive to me before.
I believe in the power of myself.
As I take back your control over
me and start living my life.
I believe in the power of myself.
As I no longer believe in the
power of you.
I believe in the power of myself.
As you and your power
no longer affects me.
I believe in the power of myself.
As I begin to love the one true
person I've forgotten in all of this
Me.
poem by Cleo A. Fletcher
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An Accident
A sudden gray, transfigures some celestial woman
A moment, an effect, a beauty pure
Fine skin, golden curls and spiritually Roman
Mine beliefs in her she did subtly lure
A longing one feels for an accident again
Its beauty one cannot measure, undefinable glory
Man knows not, what where or when?
She will appear to finish this miracle story
A spiritual power, an incredible creation
Of a mind that progresses towards heaven's genius
An exquisite passion melts in elation
To the love of some strange Venus
To the sweet apparition, my love and genius
This earth's love is to small
In the other world's blue I flee
Listening to my energy's call
I travel through spirits alone and free
To heaven's center I live in calm
Bathed in mirth and heavenly dust
One hand I touch, thy lord's palm
To write with thee, with love I must
On what merit do I possess?
To calm thy desire, and thy love deserve
My heart burns in humility, mine soul thy caress.
Thou heavenly light in thine memory I preserve
This accident!
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Mater Christianorum, Ora Pro Nobis
In the hour of grief and sorrow,
When my heart is full of care,
Seeking sadly hope to borrow
From heaven’s promises and prayer;
When around me roll the waters
Of affliction’s stormy sea,
Mary, gentle Queen of Mercy,
In that hour, oh! pray for me!
When life’s pulses high are bounding
With the tide of earthly joy,
And when in mine ears are sounding
Strains of mirth without alloy;
When the whirl of giddy pleasure
Leaves no thought or feeling free,
And I slight my heavenly treasure,
Watchful Mother, pray for me!
When the soft voice of Temptation
Lures my listening soul to sin,
And, with baleful fascination,
Strives my vain, weak heart to win;
With the combat faint and weary,
If I call not then on thee—
In that time of peril dreary,
Tender Mother, pray for me!
If, in some unguarded hour
Of dark passion or of pride,
Evil thoughts, with serpent power
To my inmost bosom glide—
Ah! while I from bonds unholy,
Vainly seek myself to free—
Mary, pure and meek and lowly,
Pray, oh! Mary, pray for me!
When with Heaven high communing
In the solemn hour of prayer—
To its strains my soul attuning,
I forget all worldly care;
When earth’s voices for a season
My vex’d spirit have left free—
Still, dear Mother, near me hover!
Still, sweet Mary, pray for me!
And in that supremest hour,
When life’s end is drawing nigh—
When earth’s scenes and pomps and power
Fade before my tear-dimmed eye—
When I on the shore am lying
Of eternity’s wide sea—
Then, O Refuge of the dying,
Tender Mother, pray for me!
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Soul Power
though i need it
soul power
got to have it
soul power
though we want it
soul power
got to have it
soul power
give it to me
soul power
how you need it
soul power
though I need it
soul power
got to have it
soul power
I want to get under your skin
if I get there
I've got to
song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins from Machina II / Friends and Enemies of Modern Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Spirit Of Wine
The Spirit of Wine
Sang in my glass, and I listened
With love to his odorous music,
His flushed and magnificent song.
- 'I am health, I am heart, I am life!
For I give for the asking
The fire of my father, the Sun,
And the strength of my mother, the Earth.
Inspiration in essence,
I am wisdom and wit to the wise,
His visible muse to the poet,
The soul of desire to the lover,
The genius of laughter to all.
'Come, lean on me, ye that are weary!
Rise, ye faint-hearted and doubting!
Haste, ye that lag by the way!
I am Pride, the consoler;
Valour and Hope are my henchmen;
I am the Angel of Rest.
'I am life, I am wealth, I am fame:
For I captain an army
Of shining and generous dreams;
And mine, too, all mine, are the keys
Of that secret spiritual shrine,
Where, his work-a-day soul put by,
Shut in with his saint of saints -
With his radiant and conquering self -
Man worships, and talks, and is glad.
'Come, sit with me, ye that are lovely,
Ye that are paid with disdain,
Ye that are chained and would soar!
I am beauty and love;
I am friendship, the comforter;
I am that which forgives and forgets.' -
The Spirit of Wine
Sang in my heart, and I triumphed
In the savour and scent of his music,
His magnetic and mastering song.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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The Power Of Love
I think that somewhere along the line
(and it's said, all things return to you in time)
I must have finally opened up to your love
Though i was building a wall at heaven's gate
(everything comes to those who wait)
You must have found a secret path into my soul
And now you're part of my life
I can't believe that this is mine
Every light has its time to shine
I want to understand this change in me
Is it the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is this the tao of love
I feel the power of love
Caught up in the famous paper chase
(in your eyes, i saw how i never fell from grace)
I must have finally opened up to your love
And i heard the battle's not always to the strong
(the race is not always to the fleet)
And the one who seeks to pluck the stars
Will miss the jewels at his feet
Blinded by momentary power
We almost had the final hour
I'll never know what caused the change in me
Was it the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is this the tao of love
I feel the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is this the tao of love
I feel the power of love
And i thought anything for the cause is worth the price
(losing you was the sharp edge of the knife)
Now no more fear, the way is clear
I know you are the power in my life
So better late than never
'cause this heart is yours forever
I'll never know what caused the change in me
Was it the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is this the tao of love
I feel the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is this the tao of love
I feel the power of love
I think that somewhere along the line
(and it's said all things return to you in time)
I must have finally opened up to your love
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Failure
THE BOY went out from the ranges grim,
And the breath of the mountains went with him;
With a song in his heart and a smile on his face,
And a light in his eyes for a foremost place:
And the good green earth, and the salt sea spray,
And the soft blue skies, they were his that day;
And, like Eden, ringed with a golden fire—
Afar rose the Land of His Heart’s Desire.
The boy went down to the city’s strife,
And his face was lost in the surge of life;
But a Power that he did not understand
Had nerved his brain and his fighting hand.
And he strove and failed, and he rose and won—
And he failed again ere the fight was done;
But he battled on when the days were dire
To win to the Land of His Heart’s Desire.
And there, in the heart of the stress and din,
’Mid want and labour and wealth and sin,
The strong man struggled with shining eyes,
And forced a passage, and grasped the prize.
And he cried to the Power who had lent the fire:
“Lo! Fame is the Land of My Heart’s Desire!
Give the cup to me with a beaded brim.”
And the Power that he knew not gave it him.
But the air is keen on the Cliffs of Fame,
And the shafts that fly have a deadly aim!
With a foothold scarce, and a sleepless dread
For the gulfs below and the heights o’erhead,
He cried to the Power who had steeled his hand:
“I am outcast yet from my Fairyland!
For Fame is a land where no strength may tire,
But Love is the Land of My Heart’s Desire!”
Then there came to the man all his dream of Love,
With the brow of snow and the eyes of a dove,
With the glint of the sun on her wavy hair,
And her soul as pure as her face was fair.
Like a living lily to him she came,
Till his eyes were wet and his soul was flame,
And she called to him, with an outstretched hand,
And they entered into the Promised Land.
But there came a day when he asked his soul,
“Is this the land, and is this the goal?”
In his heart there lay what his lips denied—
The pang of a hunger unsatisfied.
“For Fame,” he said, “and for Love I wrought;
They are not the things that I should have sought:
’Tis to boundless power that my dreams aspire—
And Wealth is the Land of My Heart’s Desire!”
Then the Power that he did not understand
Gave him ships and houses and gold and land,
And the man’s power grew with each passing year;
But his thoughts were vexed with a sleepless fear,
And his hair grew gray with the iron strain
Of the dread of loss and the lust of gain,
And he bowed his head on his hands and said.
“All things are mine, but my heart is dead!”
And he thought of the boy from the ranges grim
With the breath of the mountains over him,
With a song in his heart and a smile on his face,
And a light in his eyes for a foremost place,
And the good green earth and the salt sea spray,
And the soft blue skies that were his that day,
When, like Eden, ringed with a golden fire,
Afar rose the Land of His Heart’s Desire.
Then clear on his startled ear there fell
A voice like the sound of a silver bell:
“To each is the work that he best can do,
But you turned from the work when it called to you.
And you sought instead for the vulgar praise,
For the lips of love, and for prosperous days.
And with all that the world can give you here,
You have lost the thing that you hold most dear.
For who hears the word that the Gods inspire—
In his work finds the Land of His Heart’s Desire.”
poem by George Essex Evans
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Dark Hours: The Drunkard's Mother
Dark hours of tearless, sleepless grief,
Of woe, denied the soft relief
Of tears, to soothe the burning smart
That throbs and festers in my heart.
Oft has this grief my soul o'erspread,
Like funeral pall above the dead.
Ah, me! beneath the coffin-lid
Of murdered hopes for ever hid,
My promised joys of love and trust
With them lie mouldering in the dust.
Ah! not in sentimental strain
Of love-sick maid and sighing swain
I sing, who, crossed in hapless love,
The tender anguish deeply prove-
Nor that fierce grief when loss of fame,
Of wealth, of power, the baffled aim
Of worldly schemes, sends to the heart
Keen disappointment's venom'd dart.
Is such thy grief? you ask.-Ah, no!
A darker, deeper, deadlier woe
Is mine. Within its poisonous folds
My writhing heart a serpent holds;
I vainly struggle in the toils,
More closely wind the crushing coils.
No hand but His, to whom is given
All power in earth, all power in heaven,
The hideous reptile can unwind,
My crushed and broken heart upbind.
Lord, speak with power, I Thee implore,
As when, by lone Gennesaret's shore,
As God, Thou gave the high command,
That legion fiends might not withstand.
Oh, speak the words of power again,
All power, all words but Thine are vain;
This demoniac, fiercely driven,
Assaulting man, defying heaven,
'Twere joy ineffable, complete,
To see him sitting at Thy feet,
Renewed in heart, in mind restored,
Oh, speak the word; oh, save him, Lord!
poem by Janet Hamilton
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Without Memories, The Heart Is Nothing
At the heart of my memories, there you are,
Shining like the centre of a star,
Like a diamond set on fire,
A soul I can admire,
I'm dazzled by your beauty, near or far.
No angel looks like you upon this Earth...
I'll love you from now on for all I'm worth,
No other love to own,
Just ours and ours alone,
As if we're now as one, assigned new birth.
Transcending wisdom, power, time and space,
Love can span the measure of your face,
Love can prove supreme,
In life and in a dream,
Yes, life can change the moment love takes place.
I'll treasure you each second left to live,
Togetherness and kindness both to give,
While there's God's air to breathe,
I promise not to leave...
For you're that heart my heart longs to be with...
poem by Denis Martindale
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Beauty
I believe that beauty may captivate the very soul,
And heighten the imagination of the mind to allow it to grow:
It provides aspiration, and a path toward the same goal!
Here is how I know: because I have faith and I let it show.
Beauty's inspiration has been captured
In rhyme, lore, and film-to name but a few;
Its glory has been causal to many a heart, enraptured-
I now count myself amongst them-and know its cause too!
But for beauty's presence, I know not, where I may be:
I am made ever-better, through my privity to its existence;
All I ever need do is close mine eyes, and same I may see;
I seek evermore, proximity to same, at my heart's insistence.
I know not what I might do, without this beauty-
Mine own life a celebration of same, and my solemn duty!
poem by Maurice Harris
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