Although it hath pleased God to hasten my death by you, by whom my life should rather have been lengthened, yet can I patiently take it, that I yield God more hearty thanks for shortening my woeful days.
Related quotes
Suttee
LAMP of my life, the lips of Death
Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath;
Naught shall revive thy vanished spark . . .
Love, must I dwell in the living dark?
Tree of my life, Death's cruel foot
Hath crushed thee down to thy hidden root;
Nought shall restore thy glory fled . . .
Shall the blossom live when the tree is dead?
Life of my life, Death's bitter sword
Hath severed us like a broken word,
Rent us in twain who are but one . .
Shall the flesh survive when the soul is gone?
poem by Sarojini Naidu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song
Who hath his fancy pleased
With fruits of happy sight,
Let here his eyes be raised
On Nature's sweetest light;
A light which doth dissever
And yet unite the eyes,
A light which, dying never,
Is cause the looker dies.
She never dies, but lasteth
In life of lover's heart;
He ever dies that wasteth
In love his chiefest part:
Thus is her life still guarded
In never-dying faith;
Thus is his death rewarded,
Since she lives in his death.
Look then, and die! The pleasure
Doth answer well the pain:
Small loss of mortal treasure,
Who may immortal gain!
Immortal be her graces,
Immortal is her mind;
They, fit for heavenly places--
This, heaven in it doth bind.
But eyes these beauties see not,
Nor sense that grace descries;
Yet eyes deprived be not
From sight of her fair eyes--
Which, as of inward glory
They are the outward seal,
So may they live still sorry,
Which die not in that weal.
But who hath fancies pleased
With fruits of happy sight,
Let here his eyes be raised
On Nature's sweetest light!
poem by Philip Sidney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Old Man's Comforts and how he gained them
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
The few locks which are left you are grey;
You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man,
Now tell me the reason I pray.
In the days of my youth, Father William replied,
I remember'd that youth would fly fast,
And abused not my health and my vigour at first
That I never might need them at last.
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
And pleasures with youth pass away,
And yet you lament not the days that are gone,
Now tell me the reason I pray.
In the days of my youth, Father William replied,
I remember'd that youth could not last;
I thought of the future whatever I did,
That I never might grieve for the past.
You are old, Father William, the young man cried,
And life must be hastening away;
You are chearful, and love to converse upon death!
Now tell me the reason I pray.
I am chearful, young man, Father William replied,
Let the cause thy attention engage;
In the days of my youth I remember'd my God!
And He hath not forgotten my age.
poem by Robert Southey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sin, death
Sin and Death, those sisters two,
Two, two,
Sat together while dawned the morning.
Sister, marry! Your house will do,
Do, do,
For me, too, was Death's warning.
Sin was wedded, and Death was pleased,
Pleased, pleased,
Danced about them the day they married;
Night came on, she the bridegroom seized,
Seized, seized,
And away with her carried.
Sin soon wakened alone to weep,
Weep, weep.
Death sat near in the dawn of morning:
Him you love, I love too and keep,
Keep, keep.
He is here, was Death's warning.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Days
- Album: Reality
- Lyrics and music by David Bowie
Hold me tight
Keep me cool
Going mad
Don't know what to do
Do I need a friend?
Well I need one now
All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you
All I've done
I've done for me
All you gave
You gave for free
I gave nothing in return
And theres little left of me
All the days of my life
All the days of my life
All the days I owe you
With redeyed pain I'm knocking on your door again
My crazy brain in tangles pleading for your gentle voice
Those storms keep pounding through my faded heart
I'll play your sooth my sorry soul
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days of my life
(All the days of my life)
All the days I owe you
All the days of my life
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Esmeralda In Prison
[OPERA OF 'ESMERALDA,' ACT IV., 1836.]
Phoebus, is there not this side the grave,
Power to save
Those who're loving? Magic balm
That will restore to me my former calm?
Is there nothing tearful eye
Can e'er dry, or hush the sigh?
I pray Heaven day and night,
As I lay me down in fright,
To retake my life, or give
All again for which I'd live!
Phoebus, hasten from the shining sphere
To me here!
Hither hasten, bring me Death; then Love
May let our spirits rise, ever-linked, above!
poem by Victor Hugo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The sum of all his days
Lord, is this what life is really all about?
We get to You all wrinkled and so worn out
Is life what we have become on our last day?
All weakened and plagued by senile decay
My child, this is not so, I'm pleased to tell you
That I don't see your loved one the way you do
His life before me in panorama displays
And I see him as the sum of all his days
From his final sigh right back to his first breath
All is seen by me when he passed through death
I see the babe giving his parents delight
And the small boy growing up so fair and bright
The young lad entering his turbulent teens
Coming to terms with his inherited genes
All through his adulthood I see him going
Forming new friendships and life overflowing
You see the aging process making him old
But before me I see his whole life unfold
Each second and each moment of the years
I can see his exuberant joys and tears
Then on that final day as in death he lay
I see one who has walked with me all the way
The sum of all his days is what I can see
In your loved one who is standing before Me
And now with Me as his new life he begins
One that is not marred by the effect of sins
Sicknesses and sorrows shall no longer be
For he is now living in heaven with Me
Reprieved
How strange it is to be pain free
after long years of misery.
A life confined to my wheelchair
I found was difficult to bear.
I tried to bear it patiently
and clung to one hope stubbornly
That they would find a cure for me
and once again I would be free.
To live quite independently.
Take control of my destiny
To come and go just as I pleased,
from my paralysis released.
Freedom took me by surprise.
It took a while to realise
that I was free completely free
no longer tied to my body.
I had not thought of death as kind
. I can see now that I was blind
Death turned the key to set me free
and I rejoice exultantly.
I’ve left a hollow shell behind.
I spread my wings and go to find
those that I loved who’ve gone before.
I do not think I’d ask for more.
17-Oct-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Love Of God The End Of Life
Since life in sorrow must be spent,
So be it--I am well content,
And meekly wait my last remove,
Seeking only growth in love.
No bliss I seek, but to fulfil
In life, in death, thy lovely will;
No succours in my woes I want,
Save what thou art pleased to grant.
Our days are numbered, let us spare
Our anxious hearts a needless care:
'Tis thine to number out our days;
Ours to give them to thy praise.
Love is our only business here,
Love, simple, constant, and sincere;
O blessed days, thy servants see,
Spent, O Lord! in pleasing thee!
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love's Phases
Love hath the wings of the butterfly,
Oh, clasp him but gently,
Pausing and dipping and fluttering by
Inconsequently.
Stir not his poise with the breath of a sigh;
Love hath the wings of the butterfly.
Love hath the wings of the eagle bold,
Cling to him strongly--
What if the look of the world be cold,
And life go wrongly?
Rest on his pinions, for broad is their fold;
Love hath the wings of the eagle bold.
Love hath the voice of the nightingale,
Hearken his trilling--
List to his song when the moonlight is pale,--
Passionate, thrilling.
Cherish the lay, ere the lilt of it fail;
Love hath the voice of the nightingale.
Love hath the voice of the storm at night,
Wildly defiant.
Hear him and yield up your soul to his might,
Tenderly pliant.
None shall regret him who heed him aright;
Love hath the voice of the storm at night.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Like A Stone
On a cold wet
Afternoon
No room for love and emptiness
By a freeway
I confess I was lost in the pages
Of a book
Full of death
Reading how well die alone
And if a God will lay to rest
Anywhere we want to go
In your house
I long to be
Room by room
Patiently
Ill wait for you there
Like a stone
Ill wait for you there
Alone
And on my death bed
I will prey
To the gods and the angels
Like a pagan
To anyone who will take me to heaven
To a place
I would recall
I was there so long ago
The sky was bruised
The world was black
And there you led me on
In your house
I long to be
Room by room
Patiently
Ill wait for you there
Liek a stone
Ill wait for you there
Alone
In all I read
Till the day was gone
And I sat in regret
In all the things Ive done
For all that Ive blessed
And all that Ive wronged
In dreams till my death
I will wonder on
In your house
I long to be
Room by room
Patiently
Ill wait for you there
Like a stone
Ill wait for you there
Alone
Alone
song performed by by Audioslave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
God’s Eternal Ways
The sun will rise and the sun will set, this my friend, is a sure bet.
For soon the day turns into night, and the sun will go out of sight.
Without any effort on man’s part, the light of day turns into dark.
But soon we see the morning skies, as again the sun begins to rise.
My friend, even in the sky at night, we can see above a lesser light.
Friend, so precise is God’s design that we use the moon to keep time.
For by watching each lunar phase, we can count off a month of days.
God’s ways are certain my friend, and on Him you can surely depend.
As you live through all your days, do you take note of His many ways?
For these are but two my friend, of His many ways, that have no end.
And all eternal are God’s ways, and God will receive Eternal Praise.
But as the sun does set and rise, man my friend, he lives and dies.
For God to receive man’s praise, man also, must have eternal days.
Though man received God’s Breath, sin brought upon man certain death.
However, through God’s Eternal ways, He lengthened man’s mortal days.
And through the death of Jesus Christ, man can inherit Eternal Life.
Soon we will need the moon no more, when we enter Eternity’s Door.
And there will be no more night and Christ The Lamb will be the Light.
Friend, time itself will be no more, as we live with Christ forevermore,
Living with Christ in Eternal Ways, while giving God Eternal Praise.
(Copyright ©11/2004)
Live your life, but take care not to hasten your death by doing so.
Codrin Stefan Tapu in Teachings on Being
Submitted by anonym
Vote! | Copy!
Disingenuousness
Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.
Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:
Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!
Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
The March of Death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
Death death death death death death death death death death death
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Aged Lover Renounceth Love
. I loathe that I did love,
In youth that I thought sweet;
As time requires for my behove,
Me thinks they are not meet.
My lusts they do me leave,
My fancies all be fled,
And tract of time begins to weave
Gray hairs upon my head.
For age, with stealing steps,
Hath clawed me with his crutch,
And lusty life away she leaps
As there had been none such.
My muse doth not delight
Me as she did before,
My hand and pen are not in plight
As they have been of yore.
For reason me denies
This youthly idle rhyme,
And day by day to me she cries,
Leave off these toys in time.
The wrinkles in my brow,
The furrows in my face,
Say limping age will hedge him now
Where youth must give him place.
The harbinger of death,
To me I see him ride;
The cough, the cold, the gasping breath,
Doth bid me to provide
A pickaxe and a spade,
And eke a shrouding sheet;
A house of clay for to be made
For such a guest most meet.
Me thinks I hear the clerk
That knolls the careful knell,
And bids me leave my woeful work
Ere nature me compel.
My keepers knit the knot
That youth did laugh to scorn,
Of me that clean shall be forgot
As I had not been born.
Thus must I youth give up,
Whose badge I long did wear;
To them I yield the wanton cup
That better may it bear.
Lo, here the bared skull
By whose bald sign I know
That stooping age away shall pull
Which youthful years did sow.
For beauty, with her band,
These crooked cares hath wrought,
And shipped me into the land
From whence I first was brought.
And ye that bide behind,
Have ye none other trust;
As ye of clay were cast by kind,
So shall ye waste to dust.
poem by Thomas Vaux
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Aged Lover Renounceth Love
1 I loathe that I did love,
2 In youth that I thought sweet;
3 As time requires for my behove,
4 Me thinks they are not meet.
5 My lusts they do me leave,
6 My fancies all be fled,
7 And tract of time begins to weave
8 Gray hairs upon my head.
9 For age, with stealing steps,
10 Hath clawed me with his crutch,
11 And lusty life away she leaps
12 As there had been none such.
13 My muse doth not delight
14 Me as she did before,
15 My hand and pen are not in plight
16 As they have been of yore.
17 For reason me denies
18 This youthly idle rhyme,
19 And day by day to me she cries,
20 Leave off these toys in time.
21 The wrinkles in my brow,
22 The furrows in my face,
23 Say limping age will hedge him now
24 Where youth must give him place.
25 The harbinger of death,
26 To me I see him ride;
27 The cough, the cold, the gasping breath,
28 Doth bid me to provide
29 A pickaxe and a spade,
30 And eke a shrouding sheet;
31 A house of clay for to be made
32 For such a guest most meet.
33 Me thinks I hear the clerk
34 That knolls the careful knell,
35 And bids me leave my woeful work
36 Ere nature me compel.
37 My keepers knit the knot
38 That youth did laugh to scorn,
39 Of me that clean shall be forgot
40 As I had not been born.
41 Thus must I youth give up,
42 Whose badge I long did wear;
43 To them I yield the wanton cup
44 That better may it bear.
45 Lo, here the bared skull
46 By whose bald sign I know
47 That stooping age away shall pull
48 Which youthful years did sow.
49 For beauty, with her band,
50 These crooked cares hath wrought,
51 And shipped me into the land
52 From whence I first was brought.
53 And ye that bide behind,
54 Have ye none other trust;
55 As ye of clay were cast by kind,
56 So shall ye waste to dust.
poem by Thomas Lord Vaux
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mothers Day2007
She hath my heart, she is my mum.
She hath my heart, she is my only, she is my one.
She hath my heart, though rough winds may blow.
She hath my heart, still her love will flow, her love will always show.
She hath my heart, I thank my lucky stars.
She hath my heart and i have hers.
She hath my heart, i long for her presence.
She hath my heart, her name is essence.
She hath my heart and forever she will.
Lifetimes will come and go, i will love her still
She hath my heart, this fact i cant conceal
Our bond is like sentiment you just cant kill
She hath my heart in times of sorrow.
She hath my heart, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
She hath my heart, my voice will sing.
She hath my heart, she makes the bell in my heart ring.
She hath my heart, in times of trouble.
She wont stumble no i will not let her crumble.
She hath my heart in each and every way
And my love for her grows with each day
She hath my heart for we were once one.
She hath my heart, the heart of the boy inside the man
I hath her heart, the heart we once shared.
Though separated in body the hearts still paired.
She hath my heart i need her near.
She hath my heart my mama dear
She hath my heart and she already knows
In a world of thorny bushes she stands out like rose
She hath my heart for she is always by my side
When the sun sets she is my light, she is my guide.
poem by Soul Child
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Colac
A lady plump and pleasing
And generous and free,
Her life is spent in sleek content
Beside her inland sea;
And, round its pleasant waters,
Her pastures, rich and green,
Their treasures yield from many a field
To make her way serene.
A placid, laughing lady,
And prone to placid ways;
But yet, withal, she heeds the call
0f labor all her days
Of kind, congenial labor,
That holds nor fret nor stress
A farmer's wife whose busy life
Brings full, free happiness.
Men say the ocean covered
These fields in some dim age;
And seas, long fled, vast riches spread
To be the heritage
Of this plump Aphrodite,
Now risen from the wave
To thrive apace and wax in grace
On all the wealth they gave.
A happy, hearty lady,
She turns the gift to good,
And wins in toil from this rich soil
A fine fat livelihood.
Now, where seas long since thundered,
Her cars ply up and down
To evidence sound thrift and sense
In Colac's smiling town.
Her land of lakes and pastures
Could never harbor here,
In this lush place, a dour, hard race
Wed to an outlook drear.
And so she smiles and prospers,
A happy, hearty wife,
Whose ample charms, whose thriving farms
Reveal her zest in life.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
So Far, So Pleased
So far, so pleased
I like the way u touch me
I like the way u tease
No car, no keys
I had 2 get us stranded
If u know what I mean
Big scar on my knee
Begging 4 a kiss is such a dull routine
Still im...
So far, so far, so far, so pleased
So far, so fine
I find another beauty mark
With every glass of red wine
So fast the time
Everytime I have to go, I go and lose my mind
Its hard, okay
Thats what happens
When a boy and girl dont get 2 play
So far, so far, so far, so pleased
(yeah)
(come on, come on)
So far, so pleased
I like the way u touch me
I like the way u tease
No car, no keys
I could spend the night and leave at 10:15
So far, so far, so far, so pleased
Ooh-ooh yeah
So far, so pleased
Oh-ooh
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Summons
Straight to his death he went,
A smile on his lips,
All his life's joy unspent,
Into eclipse.
The song of the shell he heard
Cleaving the dark,
As though 'twere the song of a bird,
Linnet or lark.
Why would he go so fast
Out to the dead,
All in a heavenly haste
Not to be stayed?
What did he see afar
That drew him after?
Light from a merry star,
Singing and laughter?
Nay, but a face was his
Only in dreams,
Only in dreams of bliss
In the star-gleams.
Nay, but a face that watched
Long years to see
Who came by the door unlatched,
If it were he.
What was the voice before
That lured him on?
'Oh, thou long-hungered for,
My son, my son!'
Lo, he hath heard, hath seen,
He hath slipped over
Where the great days begin
For friend and lover.
poem by Katharine Tynan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!