Edmund Clarence Stedman
Life laid upon his forehead a caress,
And, smiling, gave him for his birthright dower,
Humor and judgment, passion, purpose, power,
And gifts of vision, pure and limitless:
Then—for she ever tempers man's success,
Nursing the canker in Earth's fairest flower—
She added pain; and taught him, hour by hour,
To know that only blessed which doth bless!
So, following the Gleam from early youth,
He lent a strengthening hand, and gave his heart,
And aided feet, less sure than his, to climb:
He sacrificed not others to his art,
But worshiped beauty with unselfish truth,
And lives, the well-beloved of his time!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Mine and Thine (1904)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Love And Knowledge
THOUGH you and I so long have been so near--
Have felt each other's heart-beats hour by hour,
Have watered, plucked, and trampled passion's flower,
Have known so many days so very dear--
Yet still through every hour of every year
We have sought to win and failed to win the dower
Of perfect insight, and to gain the power
To see what we are, and not what we appear.
Yet you desire such knowledge--would possess,
You say, completion of love; if that were won
--Ah! by it might not haply be undone
The little measure of joy we knew before?
Though we should swear we loved each other more,
How surely we should love each other less!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Hour of the Angel
Sooner or late--in earnest or in jest--
(But the stakes are no jest) Ithuriel's Hour
Will spring on us, for the first time, the test
Of our sole unbacked competence and power
Up to the limit of our years and dower
Of judgment--or beyond. But here we have
Prepared long since our garland or our grave.
For, at that hour, the sum of all our past,
Act, habit, thought, and passion, shall be cast
In one addition, be it more or less,
And as that reading runs so shall we do;
Meeting, astounded, victory at the last,
Or, first and last, our own unworthiness.
And none can change us though they die to save!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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How Blessed Am I
How blessed am I for being born
Of parents good and God-fearing!
How blessed am I for siblings nine
Who made my childhood truly great!
How blessed am I for being made
Handsome and healthy, fair and hale!
How blessed am I for gaining ken
And virtues, wisdom, fortitude!
How blessed am I for being reared
So well by parents dutiful!
How blessed am I for achievements
Quite praiseworthy in life on earth!
How blessed am I for having fared
So well in life in every field!
How blessed am I for talents, gifts
That most men cannot dream to have!
How blessed am I for miracles
That gave my life a newer lease!
How blessed am I for finding time
To thank and praise the Almighty!
How blessed am I for grace of God
That goads me on in heaven’s road!
How blessed am I for everything
God gave me amply in His time!
How blessed am I for love of God
That chose me to be Christian!
How blessed am I for hope and faith
That help me follow Jesus’ steps!
How blessed am I for poesy
That made my life stress-free, worthwhile!
How blessed am I for God’s with me
And I’m with Him in earthly life!
poem by John Celes
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One Year
What's in a year?
We watch it disappear.
Its days go by.
They seem to fly
into the ethers of the past.
A year too swiftly
does not last.
And yet each day within the year
contains within it
every single minute
where your life is resolute
and filled with purpose.
A year is not just calandar days
to be scratched off one by one.
When you do this it's then you find
you miss out on its fun.
In a year one can learn
to appreciate the time you have
to be among the living,
the time you have for giving.
In a year you learn about power
that allows you to fill each hour
with everything you love.
What's in a year?
All things new that can appear,
things you've never given thought to,
things in life you want to do.
Before the year has gone away
see before you each new day
and as the year meets its end
be one who can say
'This year has been my friend.
It gave me solace, gave me peace
and it gave me the chance to release
Pain.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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In Youth I have Known One
How often we forget all time, when lone
Admiring Nature's universal throne;
Her woods - her winds - her mountains - the intense
Reply of Hers to Our intelligence!
I.
In youth I have known one with whom the Earth
In secret communing held - as he with it,
In daylight, and in beauty, from his birth:
Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit
From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth
A passionate light - such for his spirit was fit -
And yet that spirit knew - not in the hour
Of its own fervour - what had o'er it power.
II.
Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought
To a fever by the moonbeam that hangs o'er,
But I will half believe that wild light fraught
With more of sovereignty than ancient lore
Hath ever told - or is it of a thought
The unembodied essence, and no more
That with a quickening spell doth o'er us pass
As dew of the night time, o'er the summer grass?
III.
Doth o'er us pass, when as th' expanding eye
To the loved object - so the tear to the lid
Will start, which lately slept in apathy?
And yet it need not be - (that object) hid
From us in life - but common - which doth lie
Each hour before us - but then only bid
With a strange sound, as of a harpstring broken
T' awake us - 'Tis a symbol and a token -
IV.
Of what in other worlds shall be - and given
In beauty by our God, to those alone
Who otherwise would fall from life and Heaven
Drawn by their heart's passion, and that tone,
That high tone of the spirit which hath striven
Though not with Faith - with godliness - whose throne
With desperate energy 't hath beaten down;
Wearing its own deep feeling as a crown.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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For A Charity Fair
Some poor man in need
To bless and to feed,
I bring at its worth,
This day of my birth,
A book,-from my youth I must own.
But Who in His power
Gave bud and gave flower,
To bread can transform
In want's winter-storm
Each leaf that my Springtime has grown.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Stanzas
How often we forget all time, when lone
Admiring Nature's universal throne;
Her woods- her wilds- her mountains- the intense
Reply of HERS to OUR intelligence! [BYRON, The Island.]
I
In youth have I known one with whom the Earth
In secret communing held- as he with it,
In daylight, and in beauty from his birth:
Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit
From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth
A passionate light- such for his spirit was fit-
And yet that spirit knew not, in the hour
Of its own fervor what had o'er it power.
II
Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought
To a fever by the moonbeam that hangs o'er,
But I will half believe that wild light fraught
With more of sovereignty than ancient lore
Hath ever told- or is it of a thought
The unembodied essence, and no more,
That with a quickening spell doth o'er us pass
As dew of the night-time o'er the summer grass?
III
Doth o'er us pass, when, as th' expanding eye
To the loved object- so the tear to the lid
Will start, which lately slept in apathy?
And yet it need not be- (that object) hid
From us in life- but common- which doth lie
Each hour before us- but then only, bid
With a strange sound, as of a harp-string broken,
To awake us- 'Tis a symbol and a token
IV
Of what in other worlds shall be- and given
In beauty by our God, to those alone
Who otherwise would fall from life and Heaven
Drawn by their heart's passion, and that tone,
That high tone of the spirit which hath striven,
Tho' not with Faith- with godliness- whose throne
With desperate energy 't hath beaten down;
Wearing its own deep feeling as a crown.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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Give God's Way!
What did God give us?
God gave Adam life from the dust of the earth
God gave Adam his wife Eve to be one flesh
So do we make man in our own image to give to God
No sin has made that impassable to give God
God gave us the pure blood of mammals for one sin
Yet history of sin gives God nothing!
God gave his only Son Christ's blood for all sins
So now a holy God can love a pure creation
Why dose God have us give?
Jesus gave us his eternal life & holy spirit
We are to love God with all heart and soul
And love our neighbor as our self
For where your treasure is there your heart will be also.
The TV church world's treasure is money for miracles
They teach if you give more then you have?
The Pharisees, who loved money
Heard all this and were sneering at Jesus.
God gives you more then you need?
No servant can serve two masters
You cannot serve both God and Money.
He overturned the tables of the money changers
For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.
Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth
Where thieves break in and steal.
If money is not my treasure what do I give?
He bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar
Abraham! I am here Do not lay a hand on the boy
God wants you to be not greedy for money eager to serve
To give of the heart trust and faith without expection
Is all God ever wanted from us!
Jesus gave us his treasured life and Holy Spirit
We need to serve all our actions money and lives
Not a debt we can repay but out love for God & his son
It's time we give back out of love.
God loves a cheerful giver
poem by John Raymond
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Sonnet: The Old Year
The old year passed off smoothly after all;
God blessed most nations rather profusely;
To many souls, God gave His clarion call;
He chose new leaders who would work truly!
God brought the rains on time and helped us farm;
He gave the sun to help harvest the crops;
He saved us from accidents and great harm;
He blessed the land like early morn dew-drops!
The year rolled off quite calmly from the start;
Most people heaved sighs of greater relief;
God’s mercy flowed in excess from His heart;
Let’s thank the Lord for strengthening our belief!
The Tsunami’s havoc has been undone;
Let peace prevail on earth without a gun.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-29-2006
poem by John Celes
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The Power to Touch Lives
Do you
have
the power
to
touch lives?
Are you defeated
in
every second
of
every hour?
Is your heart withholding the keys
to put many out of their miseries?
Were you created to make somebody see
what their purpose in life is suppose to be?
Were you put down here to be of some help
to uplift when others can't do it for themselves?
Have you answered your calling,
which was to keep others from falling?
Do you have any power?
Is your power distorted in some way?
Are you destroying souls
by
what you do
and
what you say?
Is the power
of
Life and Death
within
your tongue?
Then tell me
why do you choose
to
use it like
a gun?
Do you have the power
to
enlighten others,
who just might
be
a sister or a brother
of
another color?
Were you
created
to be
a blessing?
So until this time,
you would've
still been
guessing
Please let me know
when you will believe,
that
you have the power,
to help those in need
You have the power
to encourage
someone to succeed
So Yes,
You have,
the
'Power to Touch Lives'
If I've said it once,
now
I've said it twice
poem by Singleton M. Tate
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The Desolate City
DARK to me is the earth. Dark to me are the heavens.
Where is she that I loved, the woman with eyes like stars?
Desolate are the streets. Desolate is the city.
A city taken by storm, where none are left but the slain.
Sadly I rose at dawn, undid the latch of my shutters,
Thinking to let in light, but I only let in love.
Birds in the boughs were awake; I listen'd to their chaunting;
Each one sang to his love; only I was alone.
This, I said in my heart, is the hour of life and of pleasure.
Now each creature on earth has his joy, and lives in the sun,
Each in another's eyes finds light, the light of compassion,
This is the moment of pity, this is the moment of love.
Speak, O desolate city! Speak, O silence in sadness!
Where is she that I loved in my strength, that spoke to my soul?
Where are those passionate eyes that appeal'd to my eyes in passion?
Where is the mouth that kiss'd me, the breast I laid to my own?
Speak, thou soul of my soul, for rage in my heart is kindled.
Tell me, where didst thou flee in the day of destruction and fear?
See, my arms still enfold thee, enfolding thus all heaven,
See, my desire is fulfill'd in thee, for it fills the earth.
Thus in my grief I lamented. Then turn'd I from the window,
Turn'd to the stair, and the open door, and the empty street,
Crying aloud in my grief, for there was none to chide me,
None to mock my weakness, none to behold my tears.
Groping I went, as blind. I sought her house, my beloved's.
There I stopp'd at the silent door, and listen'd and tried the
latch.
Love, I cried, dost thou slumber? This is no hour for slumber,
This is the hour of love, and love I bring in my hand.
I knew the house, with its windows barr'd, and its leafless fig-tree,
Climbing round by the doorstep, the only one in the street;
I knew where my hope had climb'd to its goal and there encircled
All that those desolate walls once held, my beloved's heart.
There in my grief she consoled me. She loved me when I loved not.
She put her hand in my hand, and set her lips to my lips.
She told me all her pain and show'd me all her trouble.
I, like a fool, scarce heard, hardly return'd her kiss.
Love, thy eyes were like torches. They changed as I beheld them.
Love, thy lips were like gems, the seal thou settest on my life.
Love, if I loved not then, behold this hour thy vengeance;
This is the fruit of thy love and thee, the unwise grown wise.
Weeping strangled my voice. I call'd out, but none answer'd;
Blindly the windows gazed back at me, dumbly the door;
See whom I love, who loved me, look'd not on my yearning,
Gave me no more her hands to kiss, show'd me no more her soul.
Therefore the earth is dark to me, the sunlight blackness,
Therefore I go in tears and alone, by night and day;
Therefore I find no love in heaven, no light, no beauty,
A heaven taken by storm, where none are left but the slain!
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Awesome Beauty
When the golden sunset
Sets over the amber hills
And when the moon shines bright
And all the world stands still
There is beauty, awesome beauty
God took the dust and formed a man
He paints each sunrise with His hand
He took all the love within His heart
And gave us beauty from the start
There's beauty, awesome beauty
When the storm clouds come
And thunder rolls
When skies are dark
And it hardens the soul
There's beauty, awesome beauty
God took all the love within His heart
And gave us beauty from the start
There's beauty, awesome beauty
Through every age
There is a call
To admire the creation
He gave us all
It is beauty, awesome beauty
See the beauty, hear the call
Enjoy the life He gave us all
God took the love in His heart
And gave us beauty from the start
There's beauty, awesome beauty
((May 17th,2000))
poem by Danny Speicher
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A Rector's Memory
St. Andrews, 1923
The, Gods that are wiser than Learning
But kinder than Life have made sure
No mortal may boast in the morning
That even will find him secure.
With naught for fresh faith or new trial,
With little unsoiled or unsold,
Can the shadow go back on the dial,
Or a new world be given for the old?
But he knows not that time shall awaken,
As he knows not what tide shall lay bare,
The heart of a man to be taken --
Taken and changed unaware.
He shall see as he tenders his vows
The far, guarded City arise --
The power of the North 'twixt Her brows --
The steel of the North in Her eyes;
The sheer hosts of Heaven above --
The grey warlock Ocean beside;
And shall feel the full centuries move
To Her purpose and pride.
Though a stranger shall he understand,
As though it were old in his blood,
The lives that caught fire 'neath Her hand --
The fires that were tamed to Her mood.
And the roar of the wind shall refashion,
And the wind-driven torches recall,
The passing of Time and the passion
Of Youth over all!
And, by virtue of magic unspoken
(What need She should utter Her power?)
The frost at his heart shall be broken
And his spirit be changed in that hour --
Changed and renewed in that hour!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Clara Morris (Written for a Benefit Given Mrs. Morris)
The Radiant Ruler of Mystic Regions
Where souls of artists are fitted for birth,
Gathered together their lovely legions
And fashioned a woman to shine on earth.
They bathed her in splendor
They made her tender:
They gave her a nature both sweet and wild.
They gave her emotions
Like storm stirred oceans,
And they gave her the heart of a little child.
These Radiant Rulers (who are not human
Nor yet divine like the gods above)
Poured all their gifts in the soul of a woman
That fragile vessel meant only for love.
Still more they taught her,
Still more they brought her-
Till they gave her the world for a harp one day,
And they bade her string it-
They bade her ring it,
While the stars all wondered to hear her play.
She touched the strings in a master fashion,
She uttered the cry of a world's despair.
Its long-hid secret, its pent-up passion,
She gave to the winds in a vibrant air.
For ah! the heart of her,
That was the art of her,
Great with the feeling that makes men kin.
Art unapproachable,
Art all uncoachable,
Fragrance and flame from the spirit within.
The earth turns ever an ear unheeding
To the sorrows of art, as it cries for more:
And she played on the harp till her hands were bleeding
And her brow was bruised by the laurels she wore.
She knew the trend of it,
She knew the end of it.
Men heard the music and men felt the thrill.
Bound to the altar
Of art, could she falter?
Then came a silence-the music was still.
And yet in the echoes we seem to hear it
In waves unbroken it circles the earth:
And we catch in the light of her dauntless spirit
A gleam from the center that gave her birth.
Still is the fame of her
Felt in the name of her.
But low lies the harp that once thrilled to her strain.
No hand has taken it,
No hand can waken it-
For the soul of her art was her secret of pain.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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He has picked grapes in the sun.
He has picked grapes in the sun. Oh it seems
Like a fairy tale,
Like a tale of dreams.
'He in his slender youth, with vines, with sun,
Under a blazing sky'—
The tale might run.
There's beauty for eye and mind, for sight and thought,
Here on the surface.
Plunge. This beauty's nought.
Vision succeeds to dream. Deep in his heart
Fierier beauty lives
Than this surface art.
He has no song to sing of fragrant soil
Who in his heart revolts
At unlovely toil.
He has known the real, the truth of it. It seems
Misery eats the heart
Out of fairest dreams.
He in his slender youth, at strife, in vain
Offers his life to set
The world right again.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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The Playground of Life XIX
One hour devoted to the pursuit of Beauty
And Love is worth a full century of glory
Given by the frightened weak to the strong.
From that hour comes man's Truth; and
During that century Truth sleeps between
The restless arms of disturbing dreams.
In that hour the soul sees for herself
The Natural Law, and for that century she
Imprisons herself behind the law of man;
And she is shackled with irons of oppression.
That hour was the inspiration of the Songs
Of Solomon, an that century was the blind
Power which destroyed the temple of Baalbek.
That hour was the birth of the Sermon on the
Mount, and that century wrecked the castles of
Palmyra and the Tower of Babylon.
That hour was the Hegira of Mohammed and that
Century forgot Allah, Golgotha, and Sinai.
One hour devoted to mourning and lamenting the
Stolen equality of the weak is nobler than a
Century filled with greed and usurpation.
It is at that hour when the heart is
Purified by flaming sorrow and
Illuminated by the torch of Love.
And in that century, desires for Truth
Are buried in the bosom of the earth.
That hour is the root which must flourish.
That hour of meditation, the hour of
Prayer, and the hour of a new era of good.
And that century is a life of Nero spent
On self-investment taken solely from
Earthly substance.
This is life.
Portrayed on the stage for ages;
Recorded earthly for centuries;
Lived in strangeness for years;
Sung as a hymn for days;
Exalted but for an hour, but the
Hour is treasured by Eternity as a jewel.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Thundering Youth
Thundering Youth/Thundering flower
Like the thundering flower of youth,
and the thundering beauty of a flower
the thundering beauty of youth
and the thundering youth of power
Like the thundering power of truth,
The springtime was a crying flower
drenched in orchid's blood
and revealing all of its power
godblessamen
poem by Samuel Stuart Pennell
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But a short time to live
Our little hour,—how swift it flies
When poppies flare and lilies smile;
How soon the fleeting minute dies,
Leaving us but a little while
To dream our dream, to sing our song,
To pick the fruit, to pluck the flower,
The Gods—They do not give us long,—
One little hour.
Our little hour,—how short it is
When Love with dew-eyed loveliness
Raises her lips for ours to kiss
And dies within our first caress.
Youth flickers out like wind-blown flame,
Sweets of to-day to-morrow sour,
For Time and Death, relentless, claim
Our little hour.
Our little hour,—how short a time
To wage our wars, to fan our hates,
To take our fill of armoured crime,
To troop our banners, storm the gates.
Blood on the sword, our eyes blood-red,
Blind in our puny reign of power,
Do we forget how soon is sped
Our little hour?
Our little hour,—how soon it dies:
How short a time to tell our beads,
To chant our feeble Litanies,
To think sweet thoughts, to do good deeds.
The altar lights grow pale and dim,
The bells hang silent in the tower—
So passes with the dying hymn
Our little hour.
poem by Leslie Coulson
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Divine Beauty
divine beauty
infinite grace
beauty untold in your eyes and face
trusting me and me alone
you take my hand
and proceed to stand
on your own two feet again
Smiling bright under sweet moonlight
your beauty shows as the moon glows
O` how your beauty doth grow
calling to me in white hot passion
yet running from me
with in a fleet heart`d fashion
poem by Brian Biggs
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Under My Feet
Its a hard life
Never let yourself get down
You may never get back
You may never ever turn it round
You may say it took you by surprise
Never ending
Never changing
I didnt see through your disguise
It took my breath away
Under my feet
The earth shook
Under my feet
The earth just fell away
Under my feet
Gave way
Did you ever want to take a chance
Never thought the time would come round
Quite so fast
Would you walk right thro that wall
And keep on walking till you
Couldnt stand on your feet no more
But you came and took me by surprise
When you stole up on me
I didnt see thro your disguise
It took my breath away
Under my feet
The earth shook
Under my feet
The earth just fell away
Under my feet - gave way
Where were you
When I needed you
Where were you
When I needed you
Where were you
Where were you - Im holding on
Under my feet
The earth shook
Under my feet
The earth just fell away
Under my feet - gave way
Under my feet
The earth shook
Right under my feet
Gave way
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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