En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Not to be cheered by praise,
Not to be grieved by blame,
But to know thoroughly ones own virtues or powers
Are the characteristics of an excellent man.

quote by Saskya Pandita
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Not to be cheered by praise, Not to be grieved by blame, But to know thoroughly ones own virtues or powers Are the characteristics of an excellent man.

quote by Saskya Pandita
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Not to be cheered by praise, not to be grieved by blame, but to know thoroughly ones own virtues or powers are the characteristics of an excellent man.

quote by Saskya Pandita
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Not to be cheered by praise, not to be grieved by blame, but to know thoroughly one's own virtues or powers are the characteristics of an excellent man.

quote by Satchel Paige
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Praise And Blame

When women feel inclined to praise
they praise other women;
inclined to blame,
they blame men.

When men feel inclined to blame
they blame other men;
inclined to praise,
they praise women.

Inclinations that comment richly
on the foundations of both,
parental archetypes
and their respective bargains.

poem by Morgan Michaels
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Virtues are acquired through endeavor, Which rests wholly upon yourself. So, to praise others for their virtues Can but encourage one's own efforts.

quote by Siddha Nagarjuna
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Comfortable Kindness

The comfortable has a region,
We have no excellent virtue
But the virtue of virtues,
For this compels our comfort.
Damaged we stay, and defenceless;
Defend us now that dirt arises,
From the days of broken natures.
Complete my exact existence,
Instil the hearts you hear with kindness.
The disillusioned beliefs infer a madness
That we have no complex with,
Just deeds are again our command.
Common virtues shall attain our circle,
The circle of kindness and relief.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Psalm 150

Praise the Lord of the morning
When the sun rises from its sleep
Praise the Lord for His excellent greatness
For His beauty makes me weep

Praise the Lord when the darkness falls
And the moon rises high above
Praise the Lord for His majestic glory
And His everlasting love

Praise the Lord in the winter
When the snow falls on the ground
Praise the Lord for His glorious presence
When we stand upon holy ground

Praise the Lord of the summer
When the days are warm and long
Praise the Lord for His magnificent splendor
And the saints shall sing a new song

Praise the Lord of the springtime
When the blossoms on the tree
Praise the Lord for His holiness
And for the Blood that set us free

Praise the Lord of the Autumn
When the leaves fall to the ground
Praise the Lord for His faithfulness
And that His grace abounds

Praise the Lord when your happy
And there's a smile upon your face
Praise the Lord for His mercy
And for His saving grace

Praise the Lord when you're in despair
And your pierced by a fiery dart
Praise the Lord for HIs loving kindness
That restores your broken heart

Praise the Lord with your last breath
As you lie upon your bed
Praise the Lord for His promises
To raise you from the dead

Praise the Lord for all eternity
As you gather around His throne
Praise the Lord for His incredible beauty
As you worship Him alone

Let trumpet, harp and timbrel praise
And dance before the King
Let all with breath praise the Lord
And with their voices sing

Hallelujah to the King of Kings
We worship and bow down
We sing to you forever more
And we will crown Him with many crowns

poem by Frank McEleny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I would rather excel others in the knowledge of what is excellent than in the extent of my powers and dominion.

quote by Alexander the Great
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet: Why Blame?

Why blame the eagle for its swoop on mice?
Why blame the tiger for hunting its prey?
Why blame the drug-peddler for playing dice?
Why blame the donkey when it can but bray?

Why blame the wind that makes the branches sway?
Why blame the snake for its poison-fangs?
Why blame the sun for a hot summer’s day?
Why blame the police for the thieving gangs?

Why blame the night for being dark and cold?
Why blame the devils when they will tempt man?
Why blame our fate when we are getting old?
Why blame the Maker for how Man began?

Why blame the circumstances for our sins?
Why blame the tongue, whenever our words mince?

7-30-2002

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Songs of Praise the Angels Sang

Songs of praise the angels sang,
Heav’n with alleluias rang,
When creation was begun,
When God spoke and it was done.

Songs of praise awoke the morn
When the Prince of Peace was born;
Songs of praise arose when He
Captive led Captivity.

Heav’n and earth must pass away!
Songs of praise shall crown that day!
God will make new heav’ns and earth;
Songs of praise shall hail their birth.

And can man alone be dumb,
Till that glorious kingdom come?
No: the church delights to raise
Psalms, and hymns, and songs of praise.

Saints below, with heart and voice,
Still in songs of praise rejoice,
Learning here, by faith and love,
Songs of praise to sing above.

Borne upon their latest breath,
Songs of praise shall conquer death;
Then amidst eternal joy,
Songs of praise their powers employ.

Hymns of glory, songs of praise,
Father, unto Thee we raise;
Jesus, glory unto Thee,
With the Spirit, ever be.

poem by James Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Shun praise. Praise leads to self-delusion. Thy body is not Self, thyself is in itself without a body, and either praise or blame affects it not.

quote by H. Hahn Blavatsky
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

Passions are vices or virtues to their highest powers.

quote by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet: Such Blaming is Futile

Why blame poor Death when it does its duty?
Why blame the land for becoming desert?
Why blame Nature for unleashing fury?
Why blame dame Luck for being so inert?

Why blame the Sun for scorching summer’s heat?
Why blame the winter for its freezing cold?
Why blame the Wind for turning land less neat?
Why blame women for asking diamonds, gold?

Why blame the Sky for not bringing the Rain?
Why blame the Air for becoming so foul?
Why blame the nerves for sensation of pain?
Why blame the devils for your sinful soul?

Why blame the Stars for good or bad life brings?
Why blame your God for bad turn of some things?

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

To that movement, consecrated by religious principle, sustained by an awful sense of justice, and cheered by the brightest hopes of future good, all our powers, talents, and attainments are devoted.

quote by George Ripley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

In The Mornin

In the mornin'
When my feet hit the floor,
I will praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.

In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.

When I praise Him I keep motivated.
And my heart is elevated!
Shaking trouble makers away.

When I praise Him I know He's my Savior,
Saving me from bad behavior.
And those who bait that hate,
Wont spoil my flavor.

In the mornin'
When I'm yawning at dawn,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.

In the mornin'
I've got faith so strong.
'Cause I'm blessed to know that God is with me,
All day long!

In the mornin'
When my feet hit the floor,
I will praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.

In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
Oh yes I,
Praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
Oh yes I...
Praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him!
Oh yes I...
Praise Him.

In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.

And dedicated
'To my 'Roots'.
I keep re-booted! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

That Name

There is a name that is so precious,
A name so wonderful to me.
This name is worthy of all praises.
Because of him, I am made free.
That name is jesus, oh how I love him.
The one who gave, his life for me.
Because of love, so unconditional,
I will have life, eternally.
This name speaks peace, unto my storm clouds,
This name speaks calm, unto me fears.
And when I feel, that no one loves me.
His loving presence is so near.
That name is jesus, oh how I love him.
The one who gave, his life for me.
Because of love, so unconditional,
I will have life, eternally.
Praise that name!
Praise that name!
Praise that name!
Praise that name!
Someday Ill leave, this earthly dwelling,
To find a place, my soul will soar.
And finally see, the face of jesus.
And praise his name, forevermore!
That name is jesus, oh how I love him!
The one who gave, his life for me!
Because of love, so unconditional,
I will have life, eternally.
Excellent is that name!
Glorious is that name!
Wonderful is that name!
Oh praise that name!

song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

That Name

There is a name that is so precious,
A name so wonderful to me.
This name is worthy of all praises.
Because of him, I am made free.
That name is jesus, oh how I love him.
The one who gave, his life for me.
Because of love, so unconditional,
I will have life, eternally.
This name speaks peace, unto my storm clouds,
This name speaks calm, unto me fears.
And when I feel, that no one loves me.
His loving presence is so near.
That name is jesus, oh how I love him.
The one who gave, his life for me.
Because of love, so unconditional,
I will have life, eternally.
Praise that name!
Praise that name!
Praise that name!
Praise that name!
Someday Ill leave, this earthly dwelling,
To find a place, my soul will soar.
And finally see, the face of jesus.
And praise his name, forevermore!
That name is jesus, oh how I love him!
The one who gave, his life for me!
Because of love, so unconditional,
I will have life, eternally.
Excellent is that name!
Glorious is that name!
Wonderful is that name!
Oh praise that name!

song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

To be the Veda

Who am I?
Who put me here?
Why am I here?
What should I do?

Who will tell me who I am?
Who will tell me, who put me here?
Who will tell me, why I'm here,
and tell me then, what I should do? ..

Sometimes, I am all thankfulness
for what keeps all of me alive;
is there a greater one whom I may thank?

And sometimes, I'm alive with praise;
Is there a greater one whom I may praise?

Sometimes, as thunder rolls and lightning strikes,
earth quakes; seas foam,
I am all fear; is there a one
who’ll tell me, the other, or the greater
things that I should fear,
and tell me what I need not fear?

From day to day, my thankfulness
wells up for this; and then for that:
the earth that yields me food,
the rain that helps it grow,
the sun and light that help it ripen,
the air that I must breathe,
the sounds that draw me to my fellow men:

so are there many such, whose mighty powers
I should thank and praise,
or is there only One?

Or are there many in the One
whom I should thank and praise –
and what then do these greater powers
know of each other; know of that One?

Sometimes, when all is silent, still,
I seem to have a hint of whom I am;
of why I’m here; what I should do;

then who will tell me the greater more
of all the more I think I know?

Sometimes, when all is silent, still,
I wish to spend my days deep in that place;
but I must work; then should I trust
some other man or woman, who will spend
their days in thanking, praising, in my place?
or can my work be also thanks and praise?
who judges thanks and praise enough?

Sometimes, when all is silent, still,
I feel a greatness in me, that
joins me to all things in myself..
who shall tell me more of this?

Sometimes, when all is silent, still,
I seek for sounds, and words, and song,
to measure all that this heart feels:
oh, who will teach me greater words?

Is there a teacher, and a taught?
Or is the teacher all around?
Or is the teacher all within?

Oh, who will tell me whom I am,
in words that sing as from myself?

*

[An ongoing attempt to ‘imagine myself’ into the spirit of the Veda]

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The praisers

You might not spot them in a crowd –
but for that certain stillness of the self-contained:

in conversation, not until some detail
of an action, person, or a deed
sparks their mind; then from their heart -
not, pours – but rather, in a fine, fine stream
of exquisite precision, flows - their praise:

as if their whole self gives itself to you
in some new form of thought, in which
there is no longer, they and you –
you are united in exalted praise;

and their eye shines – inviting you to join
a world above: perhaps they sum the virtue
of a person, action, deed; and yet,
while they are speaking, praise is seated there
above the virtues; they are prophets, seers,
visionaries of that which in our praise, we are..

and perhaps, you try to join them in your speech –
how awkwardly praise sits upon your tongue!
you, who prided so yourself, a balanced judge
of all your fellow humans…find yourself
now at some sad and puny tongue-tied loss..

so, practise, in ourselves, a year or two –
(there’s silent praise – the eye gives that away…)
and praise the praiseful in their mighty work:
another world awaits: where we become
the prophets of ourselves in timeless life.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

For Vasant Kothari

Every funeral, cremation, and its rites
may have its grief; yet too,
its celebration of a life well lived;
and call out, too, self-dedication’s vow:

as the crowd of living witness
quietly leave and share their murmured words,
this vow ever calls to me: to celebrate the living:
celebrate them just as if it were
their – our - last day on earth:

celebrate and praise unstintingly;
encourage and enthuse and aid;
form their virtues in the mind and
speak them loud – as if
these whom we praise, were unaware
of their own virtues..

celebrate the living, and their life
shall celebrate the praisers in its life..

Vasant, your sweet, contained humility
hid from strangers, showed your friends,
what you were; and, who we are;

I hope your spirit (which, I’d like to think,
inspired me to the sounds beyond these words)
approves, accepts – in the eternal present tense –
these thoughts of you.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!