The Wise Men
Step softly, under snow or rain,
To find the place where men can pray;
The way is all so very plain
That we may lose the way.
Oh, we have learnt to peer and pore
On tortured puzzles from our youth,
We know all the labyrinthine lore,
We are the three wise men of yore,
And we know all things but truth.
We have gone round and round the hill
And lost the wood among the trees,
And learnt long names for every ill,
And serve the made gods, naming still
The furies the Eumenides.
The gods of violence took the veil
Of vision and philosophy,
The Serpent that brought all men bale,
He bites his own accursed tail,
And calls himself Eternity.
Go humbly ... it has hailed and snowed...
With voices low and lanterns lit;
So very simple is the road,
That we may stray from it.
The world grows terrible and white,
And blinding white the breaking day;
We walk bewildered in the light,
For something is too large for sight,
And something much too plain to say.
The Child that was ere worlds begun
(... We need but walk a little way,
We need but see a latch undone...)
The Child that played with moon and sun
Is playing with a little hay.
The house from which the heavens are fed,
The old strange house that is our own,
Where trick of words are never said,
And Mercy is as plain as bread,
And Honour is as hard as stone.
Go humbly, humble are the skies,
And low and large and fierce the Star;
So very near the Manger lies
That we may travel far.
Hark! Laughter like a lion wakes
To roar to the resounding plain.
And the whole heaven shouts and shakes,
For God Himself is born again,
And we are little children walking
Through the snow and rain.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
The Wise Men
Step softly, under snow or rain,
To find the place where men can pray;
The way is all so very plain
That we may lose the way.
Oh, we have learnt to peer and pore
On tortured puzzles from our youth,
We know all the labyrinthine lore,
We are the three wise men of yore,
And we know all things but truth.
We have gone round and round the hill
And lost the wood among the trees,
And learnt long names for every ill,
And serve the made gods, naming still
The furies the Eumenides.
The gods of violence took the veil
Of vision and philosophy,
The Serpent that brought all men bale,
He bites his own accursed tail,
And calls himself Eternity.
Go humbly ... it has hailed and snowed...
With voices low and lanterns lit;
So very simple is the road,
That we may stray from it.
The world grows terrible and white,
And blinding white the breaking day;
We walk bewildered in the light,
For something is too large for sight,
And something much too plain to say.
The Child that was ere worlds begun
(... We need but walk a little way,
We need but see a latch undone...)
The Child that played with moon and sun
Is playing with a little hay.
The house from which the heavens are fed,
The old strange house that is our own,
Where trick of words are never said,
And Mercy is as plain as bread,
And Honour is as hard as stone.
Go humbly, humble are the skies,
And low and large and fierce the Star;
So very near the Manger lies
That we may travel far.
Hark! Laughter like a lion wakes
To roar to the resounding plain.
And the whole heaven shouts and shakes,
For God Himself is born again,
And we are little children walking
Through the snow and rain.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Better Weather Here Than Somewhere Else
It's a Northern winter wonderland
Happy couples walking hand in hand
Department stores aglow with lights
Christmas trees always in sight
Snow falls down on New York City
Snow falls down on New York City
It's true that the place is lit up bright
And maybe the streets look amazing at night
And while the country can seem kind of plain
Alabama's got sunshine when New York's got rain
Frost on rooftops and gifts with bows
Teddy bears in shop windows
Santa in the mall with children on his lap
So much to do, so many presents to wrap
And snow falls down on New York City
Snow falls down on New York City
It's true that the place is lit up bright
And maybe the streets look amazing at night
And while the country can seem kind of plain
Alabama's got sunshine when New York's got rain
There's no white Christmas for Dixie this year
But we don't need snow to bring holiday cheer
Maybe we're simple but we still do our part
To keep Christmas a tradition that lives in the heart
So let the snow fall down on new York City
Just let it fall down on New York City
Laughter In The Rain.
We use to have it,
Long long time ago.
We use to reach for it.
But now it’s no more.
It was our pride,
Having laughter in the rain,
With nothing to hide,
We made it plain.
How stunning it was laughing in the rain.
Laugh like a drain,
Like a baby with no stain.
Yes!
I felt like a child
Felt it like a lady that is not wild.
Having laughter in the rain with you,
Hand in hand walking on the street with you.
In all times you hold me tight.
To make me feel alright.
Laughter always in my mouth.
`Cause you always with me no matter what.
How stunning,
Having laughter in the rain.
No cunning,
We made every thing plain.
Sit on the couch laughing and laughing
Laughing and laughing.
To ease the pain.
Having laughter in the rain.
Laughter in the rain,
Sadness of our pain.
It was a pleasure.
It is a treasure.
And I am sure
It is nothing you will not want to measure.
Our laughter in the rain.
The many tears we cried over and over again.
It is something maybe good.
Everyone thought we could,
Take it to the next level if we would.
I remember thousand of the droplet tears
The holding and cuddling to take off the fears.
Titter to make us laugh.
Titillate me to get me down.
Laughter in the rain.
Took away our pain.
But now it is no more.
We lost it long time ago.
It was our pride.
It was with us every time we ride
Laughter in the rain.
poem by Chinwendu Ibeh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Plain white
the white of the snow
is to help you forget
about the unhealthy past
white, plain white to start
a brand new life
remember, being plain
is not that meaningless
remember the snow, the snow
you can even fly away with it
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Know What
Yeah I know that
I said I'm feeling
I'm feeling it I'm feeling it yeah
I know that you like the way that I put it down on you
you know what yeah
We were meant to be
together for eternity
but now you're gone it's plain to see
I was living just a fantasy
so many things ever I found a love that's true
finding it hard to push on through
since I've been away from you
when I first met you waiting
standing up by the bus stop
I knew you were something speacial
weak in my knees
I wanted to drop yeah e yeah
so we checked each other
what we had going on was so hot yeah
I never thought you'd leave me no
but you know what
we were meant to be
together for eternity
but now you're gone it's plain to see
I was living just a fantasy
so many things ever I found a love that's true
finding it hard to push on through
since I've been away from you
Now I can't seem to get over you
appearing in everything that i do
it was only last feek
friday when I saw you out with your girlfriends walking
round my way (wanted to stop) yeah e yeah
i feel when all's said and done
from this love I've had I've learnt a klot yeah
I never thought you'd leave me no
but you know what
we were meant to be
together for eternity
but now you're gone it's plain to see
I was living just a fantasy
so many things ever i found a love that's true
finding it hard to push on through
since I've been away from you
the flow that we had was so hot
girl you took me higher to the top
we kept it rolling wouldn't stop
said you'd never leave me
but you know what
we were meant to be
together for eternity
but now you're gone it's plain to see
I was living just a fantasy
so many things ever I found a love that's true
finding it hard to push on through
since I've been away from you
you don't know what i've been going through
but I know that you don't know what
I said i'm feeling it i'm feeling it I'm feeling it yeah
[repeat 2x]
song performed by by Craig David from Born To Do It
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The New-England Boy's Song About Thanksgiving Day
Over the river, and through the wood,
To grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way,
To carry the sleigh,
Through the white and drifted snow.
Over the river, and through the wood,
To grandfather's house away!
We would not stop
For doll or top,
For 't is Thanksgiving Day.
Over the river, and through the wood,
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes,
And bites the nose,
As over the ground we go.
Over the river, and through the wood,
With a clear blue winter sky,
The dogs do bark,
And children hark,
As we go jingling by.
Over the river, and through the wood,
To have a first-rate play-
Hear the bells ring
Ting a ling ding,
Hurra for Thanksgiving Day!
Over the river, and through the wood-
No matter for winds that blow;
Or if we get
The sleigh upset,
Into a bank of snow.
Over the river, and through the wood,
To see little John and Ann;
We will kiss them all,
And play snow-ball,
And stay as long as we can.
Over the river, and through the wood,
Trot fast, my dapple grey!
Spring over the ground,
Like a hunting hound,
For 't is Thanksgiving Day!
Over the river, and through the wood,
And straight through the barn-yard gate;
We seem to go
Extremely slow,
It is so hard to wait.
Over the river, and through the wood-
Old Jowler hears our bells;
He shakes his pow,
With a loud bow wow,
And thus the news he tells.
Over the river, and through the wood-
When grandmother sees us come,
She will say, Oh dear,
The children are here,
Bring a pie for every one.
Over the river, and through the wood-
Now grandmother's cap I spy!
Hurra for the fun!
Is the pudding done?
Hurra for the pumpkin pie!
poem by Lydia Maria Francis Child
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Have To Go I Cannot Stay
i am just a pilgrim and my real job is to walk
anywhere
i am a vagabond and my place is
everywhere
i do not even have stars to follow to serve as
my guide,
i walk and sleep and walk and sleep and walk again
under the skies
night and day alone
follow me and take the risk,
but of course,
i will be happy to have you and be my love
in this pilgrimage
anywhere everywhere somewhere
we shall be together when we shall arrive
possibly
still holding with our mournful gazes
cheers... i am not the fine wine
just plain water, and you are not the cup
just plain cusped hands...
drink, we shall walk again
this time, together, beside each other..
we follow Him.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Those That Merely Wait And Unmoved
walking, just walking, sometimes just this
no thoughts, no decisions, just plain walking
you see the light of the day
striking on the trees and plains and the daffodils
you are not part of it, you are just walking it
you are met by the wind from the mountain
you are not talking you are not interested about
what this wind these trees these daffodils are bringing you
you do not show any interest at all about some leaves falling
the light spreads and sprawls on the grass and sand and pebbles
you are not dazzled you are not completely covered by light
you are just walking, stepping into God's own creation
spectator, just plain walking in, not involved, not commenting
just plain watching, those that crawl and sprawl, those that stay and leave
those that simply lay themselves as plain receptors, grass and sang
mountains and trees, and daffodils, those that merely wait and unmoved.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Tongue—to tell Him I am true!
400
A Tongue—to tell Him I am true!
Its fee—to be of Gold—
Had Nature—in Her monstrous House
A single Ragged Child—
To earn a Mine—would run
That Interdicted Way,
And tell Him—Charge thee speak it plain—
That so far—Truth is True?
And answer What I do—
Beginning with the Day
That Night—begun—
Nay—Midnight—'twas—
Since Midnight—happened—say—
If once more—Pardon—Boy—
The Magnitude thou may
Enlarge my Message—If too vast
Another Lad—help thee—
Thy Pay—in Diamonds—be—
And His—in solid Gold—
Say Rubies—if He hesitate—
My Message—must be told—
Say—last I said—was This—
That when the Hills—come down—
And hold no higher than the Plain—
My Bond—have just begun—
And when the Heavens—disband—
And Deity conclude—
Then—look for me. Be sure you say—
Least Figure—on the Road—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The House of Christmas
There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.
For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay on their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.
A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost - how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky's dome.
This world is wild as an old wives' tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.
To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fly To The Rainbow
Music :michael schenker
Lyrics:ulrich roth
Life is empty, cant remember anytime before,
On a plain lit cold december, see it evermore,
Gliding through this life, and another is a child,
And were doing games, and losing things,
Always playing gigs.
Somewhere in the sky, where the moon the stars shine bright,
Where the sun is shining, in the night.
I am in disgrace, yet I see a smiling face,
And I hope you let me, share your place.
I dont live today.
Rain in the sky , make the world fly,
Into time, beg me your time.
Sun in the sky, make the world fly,
Into time, beg me your time.
Rain in the sky , make the world fly,
Into time, beg me your time.
Sun in the sky, make the world fly,
Into time, beg me your time.
Rain in the sky , make the world fly,
Into time, beg me your time.
Sun in the sky, make the world fly,
Into time, beg me your time.
I lived in magic solitude,
With cloudy looking mountains,
The lake made out of crystal raindrops.
Run through space, 2000 years ago,
Ive seen the giant city of atlantis,
Sinking into an eternal wave of darkness.
Shhh.
Somewhere in the blue distance,
Are those long forgotten trees of gold
Broken lives hidden down in the sand
Darkness everywhere, nothing
Symbols, strange symbols on a cold leaf
Painting torrid colours all sky green.
Candle painted white like the moon,
Faraway children bleed, God save them.
Drifting garish ghosts like shadows.
Save break to catch and kill time.
Echoes one round endless meadow.
Sublime.
song performed by by Scorpions
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House of Christmas
There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.
For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay on their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.
A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost - how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky's dome.
This world is wild as an old wives' tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.
To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fear
A lantern light from deeper in the barn
Shone on a man and woman in the door
And threw their lurching shadows on a house
Near by, all dark in every glossy window.
A horse's hoof pawed once the hollow floor,
And the back of the gig they stood beside
Moved in a little. The man grasped a wheel,
The woman spoke out sharply, 'Whoa, stand still!'
'I saw it just as plain as a white plate,'
She said, 'as the light on the dashboard ran
Along the bushes at the roadside-a man's face.
You must have seen it too.'
'I didn't see it.
Are you sure--'
'Yes, I'm sure!'
'-it was a face?'
'Joel, I'll have to look. I can't go in,
I can't, and leave a thing like that unsettled.
Doors locked and curtains drawn will make no difference.
I always have felt strange when we came home
To the dark house after so long an absence,
And the key rattled loudly into place
Seemed to warn someone to be getting out
At one door as we entered at another.
What if I'm right, and someone all the time-
Don't hold my arm!'
'I say it's someone passing.'
'You speak as if this were a travelled road.
You forget where we are. What is beyond
That he'd be going to or coming from
At such an hour of night, and on foot too.
What was he standing still for in the bushes?'
'It's not so very late-it's only dark.
There's more in it than you're inclined to say.
Did he look like--?'
'He looked like anyone.
I'll never rest to-night unless I know.
Give me the lantern.'
'You don't want the lantern.'
She pushed past him and got it for herself.
'You're not to come,' she said. 'This is my business.
If the time's come to face it, I'm the one
To put it the right way. He'd never dare-
Listen! He kicked a stone. Hear that, hear that!
He's coming towards us. Joel, go in-please.
Hark!-I don't hear him now. But please go in.'
'In the first place you can't make me believe it's--'
'It is-or someone else he's sent to watch.
And now's the time to have it out with him
While we know definitely where he is.
Let him get off and he'll be everywhere
Around us, looking out of trees and bushes
Till I sha'n't dare to set a foot outdoors.
And I can't stand it. Joel, let me go!'
'But it's nonsense to think he'd care enough.'
'You mean you couldn't understand his caring.
Oh, but you see he hadn't had enough-
Joel, I won't-I won't-I promise you.
We mustn't say hard things. You mustn't either.'
'I'll be the one, if anybody goes!
But you give him the advantage with this light.
What couldn't he do to us standing here!
And if to see was what he wanted, why
He has seen all there was to see and gone.'
He appeared to forget to keep his hold,
But advanced with her as she crossed the grass.
'What do you want?' she cried to all the dark.
She stretched up tall to overlook the light
That hung in both hands hot against her skirt.
'There's no one; so you're wrong,' he said.
'There is.-
What do you want?' she cried, and then herself
Was startled when an answer really came.
'Nothing.' It came from well along the road.
She reached a hand to Joel for support:
The smell of scorching woollen made her faint.
'What are you doing round this house at night?'
'Nothing.' A pause: there seemed no more to say.
And then the voice again: 'You seem afraid.
I saw by the way you whipped up the horse.
I'll just come forward in the lantern light
And let you see.'
'Yes, do.-Joel, go back!'
She stood her ground against the noisy steps
That came on, but her body rocked a little.
'You see,' the voice said.
'Oh.' She looked and looked.
'You don't see-I've a child here by the hand.'
'What's a child doing at this time of night--?'
'Out walking. Every child should have the memory
Of at least one long-after-bedtime walk.
What, son?'
'Then I should think you'd try to find
Somewhere to walk--'
'The highway as it happens-
We're stopping for the fortnight down at Dean's.'
'But if that's all-Joel-you realize-
You won't think anything. You understand?
You understand that we have to be careful.
This is a very, very lonely place.
Joel!' She spoke as if she couldn't turn.
The swinging lantern lengthened to the ground,
It touched, it struck it, clattered and went out.
poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ask 12: Bare your wounds
Don’t let it bring you down babe,
As the dragon crashes with the pain,
I see it all go round again.
Maybe not by the same name,
Maybe it’s just history repeating itself
Over and over and over and over,
Find me a lover, lets run for cover,
Sanctuary, hidden from the cascade of tears
That’s what we need, a place to hide our fears.
Sweetness in your youth, know no lie from truth.
Ignorance is bliss. What did I miss?
The world go by, take it in, exhale and sigh,
Open your eyes to the new day,
It may always be the last
Embrace the moment,
Hold no regrets,
Forget the past,
Whatever it is the proverbs say,
Find another way to drift away
With hazy Jane
Always she’s there
To take away the pain
To kiss the clouds with silver linings.
Wouldn’t it be fine if we could all agree to disagree?
What is it I feel when you are near?
Is it real babe? Do you fear me?
Why is it I see hesitation in your path?
Again and round the same,
The same as always and forever more,
pick up the pieces of the floor,
Rearrange them, with the dawn.
Rebirth. Reborn.
Out with the old in with the new,
Answering questions you thought you knew
The truth, but then again they lied to you.
Everything comes together in the end,
Come together one more time my friend.
Trip on, slip on, take a little chance on me, I
I’ll take a chance on you, tell me true babe
What is it you have to say when blank
Expressions confront your form?
This girl, in possession of her innocence,
You know she’s a break from the norm,
She wont conform to their rules,
She’s learnt to bend, then lend a helping hand.
Bare your wounds, we’ll find out soon
What is lost and what is found
Along with all that lies out of bounds to us.
Bare your wounds you’ll find out soon enough
What it is that makes you bleed, what is it your needing
Girl, another soul off which to feed?
Free me of my bondage to this plain,
Again and again the dragon crashes with the pain
We all go round the same.
Grounded in reality, the truth wouldn’t mean so much to me,
Yet this world is strange, the people stranger,
They’ll give you shit even if your born in a manger,
Born with a star to call out your name.
poem by David Lacey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roscoe
He was the best dog we ever had. He was loving, outgoing and he was
always there waging his tail, and licking your face when you were sad.
He loved playing in the snow, he had always left a straight line in the
snow where he had run. he had made the most beautiful babies that I
had ever seen before. I see him in maggie everyday. Roscoe i miss you so much, it's so different here without you running around the house. I miss you so much, so does everyone in the house. I'm pretty sure that the other dogs were looking for you when you were gone. You were as white as the snow and that's why when, winter came around it was so hard to find you well we sometimes just followed the straight line in the snow. Roscoe I hope you are having fun in heaven, don't eat too much. I still miss you.
poem by Danielle Elsworth
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Every one knows how the snow lies in the valleys of the Alps, forming a plain which slopes gradually downward towards the outlet Imagine such a valley ten miles across, with just such a sloping plain, not of snow but of earth.
quote by Edward Burnett Tylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voices Of The Rain
LAST night, when under troubled skies
The storm went marching o'er the plain,
An elfin music seemed to rise,
A singing in the rain.
At first it seemed a prattling child
That played alone in young delight,
And then it seemed a joy gone wild
That sang along the night.
The raindrops, with their steady beat
And burden musical and low,
Were like a thousand little feet
That hurried to and fro.
And where the runnels gushed and streamed
And soaked the grass-roots, dry and brown,
A busy band of fairies seemed
To patter up and down.
The air was full of whisperings,
And all the teeming dark was rife
With stir and call that told of things
That woke anew to life.
And then across the darkened waste
A sudden shouting wind was hurled;
It seemed a messenger in haste
With tidings for the world.
But, till across that streaming scene
The wind went rushing down the plain,
I did not guess what they might mean —
Those voices of the rain.
They said: 'Farewell to drought and dearth,
To Famine, hollow-eyed and nude!'
They said: 'We are the teeming Earth,
The gift of plenitude!'
They said, those voices of the rain:
'We are the flesh and blood and breath;
We are the meat, the fruit, the grain
That succour all from death!'
They said: 'Wherever we may pass
The hour of plenty comes to birth;
We spread the banquet of the grass
Around about the Earth!
'We call,' they said, 'and lo, the seed
Within its mother-soil is stirred;
The seasons round 'tis ours to feed
The fruit, the tree, the bird.
'By us the petal is unfurled,
The flower in purple splendour blooms;
We fill the markets of the world,
And feed its hungry looms.'
The moon sent forth one silver ray,
The fairy voices ceased to sing;
Yet far away, and far away,
I heard thanks echoing.
For cattle lowed throughout the night
In deep content across the plain;
And I, too, thanked, with meet delight,
The voices of the rain.
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Delight Song of Tsoai-Talee
I am a feather on the bright sky
I am the blue horse that runs in the plain
I am the fish that rolls, shining, in the water
I am the shadow that follows a child
I am the evening light, the lustre of meadows
I am an eagle playing with the wind
I am a cluster of bright beads
I am the farthest star
I am the cold of the dawn
I am the roaring of the rain
I am the glitter on the crust of the snow
I am the long track of the moon in a lake
I am a flame of four colors
I am a deer standing away in the dusk
I am a field of sumac and pomme blanche
I am an angle of geese in the winter sky
I am the hunger of a young wolf
I am the whole dream of these things
You see, I am alive, I am alive
I stand in good relation to the Gods
I stand in good relation to the earth
I stand in good relation to everything that is beautiful...
You see, I am alive, I am alive
poem by Navarre Scott Momaday
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Luna
Deep slumber hung o'er sea and hill and plain;
With pale pink cheek fresh from her watery caves
Slow rose the moon out of the midnight waves,
Like Venus out of ocean born again.
Olympian blazed she on the dark blue main;
'So shall, ye gods,' — hark how my weak hope raves! —
'My happy star ascend the sea that laves
Its shores with grief, and silence all my pain!'
With that there sighed a wandering midnight breeze
High up among the topmost tufted trees,
And o'er the moon's face blew a veil of cloud;
And in the breeze my genius spake, and said,
'While thy heart stirred, thy glimmering hope has fled,
And like the moon lies muffled in a shroud.'
poem by Erik Johan Stagnelius
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rain: A Song Of Peace
The Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain-
Welcome, welcome, it cometh again;
It cometh with green to gladden the plain,
And to wake the sweets in the winding lane.
The Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain,
It fills the flowers to their tiniest vein,
Till they rise from the sod whereon they had lain-
Ah, me! ah, me! like an army slain.
The Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain,
Each drop is a link of a diamond chain
That unites the earth with its sin and its stain
To the radiant realm where God doth reign.
The Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain,
Each drop is a tear not shed in vain,
Which the angels weep for the golden grain
All trodden to death on the gory plain;
For Rain, the Rain, the beautiful Rain,
Will waken the golden seeds again!
But, ah! what power will revive the slain,
Stark lying death over fair Lorraine?
'Twere better far, O beautiful Rain,
That you swelled the torrent and flooded the main;
And that Winter, with all his spectral train,
Alone lay camped on the icy plain.
For then, O Rain, O beautiful Rain,
The snow-flag of peace were unfurl'd again;
And the truce would be rung in each loud refrain
Of the blast replacing the bugle's strain.
Then welcome, welcome, beautiful Rain,
Thou bringest flowers to the parched-up plain;
Oh! for many a frenzied heart and brain,
Bring peace and love to the world again!
poem by Denis Florence MacCarthy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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