Resignation
Since we the march of Time can not arrest,
Keep you in step with him till Time shall end:
Thus will you journey with more easeful breast,
Nor mar the rhythm that you cannot mend.
Nor ever yearn impatiently to reap
Harvest allotted unto mellower years,
But, having sown the seed, take care to keep
Its growth from tares till soaring stem appears.
Neither, when Summer from your life shall wane,
And Autumn fruit keep dropping from the bough,
Look back and sigh regretfully in vain
For joys no longer seasonable now:
Thus will your hours make music to the end,
And Life, you loved so, become Death your friend.
poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Life Is Lovely All the Year
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!
Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!
In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.
Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It Is Guaranteed
Eventually the root of a situation,
Bears the fruit,
Of what has been planted.
It may take longer,
Than something else seeded.
Something deeper intentionally done...
Without the acknowledgement,
Of the one who is to reap...
What another has sown.
That takes time on its own,
To shed upon it the truth of daylight!
In time a tainted harvest,
Crops to the surface.
For everyone to see...
What has been done to whom and when,
And why.
And if a provided taste does not correctly please...
A search to unearth this deed,
Will uncover the culprit!
Usually not too far...
From a fixation one has with weeds.
Discovered,
Delighting in the growth and appearance of it!
Eventually the root of a situation,
Bears the fruit,
Of what has been planted.
That is a given.
It is guaranteed!
Eventually.
Like a bad seed enjoying deceit fed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Harvest and Autumn
Harvest, harvest
all you need,
is food and drink
and fruit indeed.
Harvest friend is harvest moon,
of course.
Autumn, Autumn
Harvest is in Autumn,
oh, what a great time to celebrate! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
poem by Karolina Gosztyla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thats Why I Call You My Friend
(toshifumi hinata/john bettis/peterasher/diana ross)
Time after time
And any time at all
I could turn to you
With my back to the wall
And you would always give to me
All I asked of you
Thats why I call you my friend
You will be my friend
Now till my life is ended
So many tears
That you have turned to smiles
I cant believe we survived
All the endless miles
Two hearts broken together
Will heal into one
Thats why I call you my friend
You will be my friend
Now till my life is ended
Sweet love and tenderness
All our hopes and dreams
Will take us through the hard times
Let winter come
As cold as it will be
My arms are open wide
You can just run to me
As warm as any summer
I am here for you
Thats why I call you my friend
You will be my friend
Now till my life is ended
As friend
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Can Never Go Home
I dont know what Im searching for
I never have opened the door,
Tomorrow might find me at last,
Turning my back on the past,
But, time will tell, of stars that fell,
A million years ago.
Memories can never take you back, home, sweet home.
You can never go home anymore.
All my life I never really knew me till today,
Now I know why, Im just another step along the way,
I lie awake for hours, Im just waiting for the sun.
When the journey we are making has begun,
Dont deny the feeling that is stealing through your heart,
Every happy ending needs to have a start.
All my life I never really knew me till today,
Now I know why, Im just another step along the way,
Weep no more for treasures youve been searching for in vain.
cos the truth is gently falling with the rain,
High above the forest lie the pastures of the sun,
Where the two that learned the secret are now one.
I dont know what Im searching for
I never have opened the door,
Tomorrow might find me at last,
Turning my back on the past,
But, time will tell, of stars that fell,
A million years ago.
Memories can never take you back, home, sweet home.
You can never go home anymore.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song For The Irish Militia
The tribune's tongue and poet's pen
May sow the seed in prostrate men;
But 'tis the soldier's sword alone
Can reap the crop so bravely sown!
No more I'll sing nor idly pine,
But train my soul to lead a line
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!
No foe would fear your thunder words,
If 'twere not for your lightning swords
If tyrants yield when millions pray,
'Tis less they link in war array;
Nor peace itself is safe, but when
The sword is sheathed by fighting men
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!
The rifle brown and sabre bright
Can freely speak and nobly write
What prophets preached the truth so well
As HOFER, BRIAN, BRUCE, and TELL?
God guard the creed these heroes taught-
That blood-bought Freedom's cheaply bought
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!
Then, welcome be the bivouac,
The hardy stand, and fierce attack,
Where pikes will tame their carbineers,
And rifles thin their bay'neteers,
And every field the island through
Will show 'what Irishmen can do! '
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death so Ireland's free!
Yet, 'tis not strength and 'tis not steel
Alone can make the English reel;
But wisdom, working day by day,
Till comes the time for passion's sway
The patient dint and powder shock,
Can blast an empire like a rock.
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!
The tribune's tongue and poet's pen
May sow the seed in slavish men;
But 'tis the soldier's sword alone
Can reap the harvest when 'tis grown.
No more I'll sing, no more I'll pine,
But train my soul to lead a line
A soldier's life's the life for me
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free.
poem by Thomas Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lifes A Journey
I say life’s a journey, because life’s something we have once and everything we do and say is something we can’t go back and change. So I look at life as a journey. That I have to live full out, with no regrets. I don’t have time to live in the past or think about all the bad things. Almost all human being takes life for granted, and I don’t want to be one of those people. So I promised my self to never ever live with regrets, so I try to do whatever my heart tells me. And I try to stand up for all my believes, and I can’t do that if I live in the past or with regrets. It’s a waist of time,
Because life’s a journey.
I usually say if you got a dream go for it, because giving up on a dream is like giving up on life and giving up on life is like sitting and asking god to die. I know it’s hard to go for your dream when people tell you, that you won’t make it. So I just tell my self, whenever I fall I get back up, because I won’t give up without a fight.
Because life’s a journey.
What you’ve got if you don’t have faith, I know it’s hard to hold on to, when we live in a world like this. But I always hold on to my faith and my hopes.
My believes is what often keeps me going,
Because life’s a journey.
Life is hard, we all know it isn’t fair but I say stop worrying about what you/we don’t have and appreciate what you/we have. Because whenever you/we have a bad day someone else has a worse day and in worse case someone might be dying,
Because life’s a journey.
This world need some love, I know it’s easier to hate than love but at least could we try to respect each other. We would get so much more out of this journey then, I really believe that. Maybe sometimes we should just start to think about our self’s than everybody else. Because if we keep hate on each other, we will soon see world war 3, and I don’t think any one wants that to happen. I wish we could all respect each other, black and white, blue and yellow, bigger and smaller. Because at the end of the day we all human being on a journey that can end any time. It’s sad but it’s true,
Because life’s a journey.
Life’s a journey till the day it ends and when it ends there is no looking back or taking back. We had our changes only doomsday will show us if we wasted our time on our journey or if we enjoyed the journey and appreciated what we had. When we are at the end of our journey that’s when we have to face death. Many people forget we have to die because they might be afraid, but I’m not because it’s a part of life.
Life’s a journey till it ends.
poem by Precious Mason
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song For The Irish Militia
AIR--_The Peacock._
I.
The tribune's tongue and poet's pen
May sow the seed in prostrate men;
But 'tis the soldier's sword alone
Can reap the crop so bravely sown!
No more I'll sing nor idly pine,
But train my soul to lead a line--
A soldier's life's the life for me--
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!
II.
No foe would fear your thunder words,
If 'twere not for your lightning swords--
If tyrants yield when millions pray,
'Tis less they link in war array;
Nor peace itself is safe, but when
The sword is sheathed by fighting men--
A soldier's life's the life for me--
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!
III.
The rifle brown and sabre bright
Can freely speak and nobly write--
What prophets preached the truth so well
As HOFER, BRIAN, BRUCE, and TELL?
God guard the creed these heroes taught--
That blood-bought Freedom's cheaply bought
A soldier's life's the life for me--
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!
IV.
Then, welcome be the bivouac,
The hardy stand, and fierce attack,
Where pikes will tame their carbineers,
And rifles thin their bay'neteers,
And every field the island through
Will show 'what Irishmen can do!'
A soldier's life's the life for me--
A soldier's death so Ireland's free!
V.
Yet, 'tis not strength and 'tis not steel
Alone can make the English reel;
But wisdom, working day by day,
Till comes the time for passion's sway--
The patient dint and powder shock,
Can blast an empire like a rock.
A soldier's life's the life for me--
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free!
VI.
The tribune's tongue and poet's pen
May sow the seed in slavish men;
But 'tis the soldier's sword alone
Can reap the harvest when 'tis grown.
No more I'll sing, no more I'll pine,
But train my soul to lead a line--
A soldier's life's the life for me--
A soldier's death, so Ireland's free.
poem by Thomas Osborne Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As God Gave Freely
As God gave freely unto me
gifts of compassion love patience time
so I also give freely unto you
in the fertile landscapes of harvest mind
have I not prepared fields broken ground
have I not sown in full measure love seed
will you now take ownership of these fields?
will you water fertilize tender growth shoots?
will you weed harvest all life love gift fields?
for 18 months more have I alone toiled prepared?
are not these fields without cost to you purchased?
did I not give sacred work all my time livelihood?
will you choose to help harvest these compassion seeds?
will you let peace love flower with purity in your minds?
will you turn swords into plough shears till peace fields?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn Hello's
Sometimes for others at autumn time period,
Is time for goodbyes when summertime flys,
For autumn is next in season time keeping,
And summer is over and moonlight shines sooner,
To see the autumn early sunset,
Is the time to travel back,
Leaving behind the bright nights,
And early dawnings,
Summertime goodbyes,
And hello to,
Autumn hello's,
Makes some lovers cry,
For time to fly,
When moonlight shines sooner,
And summer nights no more linger,
Tis, when summertime lovers kiss and say goodbye,
Flying back to where they are from,
Leaving each other to fly back home,
Back to the regular days and events,
Back to the mudane schedule,
That made you book and fly away,
Yet, then you settle back in and think,
Of the times you had in summertime joys,
While others of all season,
Settle in and snuggle,
Planning their future together,
Knowing to each in all seasons,
While the whims and joys,
Of summertime loves,
Comes to a halt,
When both part and fly home,
Till,
Mabey they might meet up again,
When autumn, winter and spring has been,
Unless,
In that time and along the way,
They meet an autumn hello,
That keeps them,
Home,
Like all the rest,
That meet and fall in love,
That lasts for more than autumn hello's.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Recalculation
Place and Time no meaning may retain
As Time and space skeins melt down, disappear,
Sounds, colours, perfumes magic merge, as here
Calculations fail, all trammels vain.
A new day dawns, whose joys shall e’er remain.
Lightning fast love came, must last a mere
Eternity or two, to cleanse, make clear.
Patterns fit, hope’s picture fills life’s train
Advances, puzzle pieces finds, can gain
Some insight into mysteries to steer
Consciousness through dreams till dreams appear
As true to life as life whose sun won’t wane.
Look, thus, no further for those answers which
Each seeks to weave life’s blessings, joys to stitch.
(5 August 1999/acrostic sonnet Pascale)
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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'Till I Can Make It On My Own
I'll need time to get you off my mind
And I may sometimes bother you
Try to be in touch with you
Even ask too much of you
From time to time.
Now and then
Lord, you know I'll need a friend
Till I get used to losing you
Let me keep on using you
Till I can make it on my own.
I'll get by but no matter how I try
There'll be times you know I'll call
Chances are, my tears will fall
And I'll have no pride at all
From time to time.
But they say
Oh, there'll be a brighter day
But till then I lean on you
That's all I mean to do
Till I can make it on my own.
Surely, someday I'll look up
And see the morning sun
Without another lonely night behind me
Then I'll know I'm over you
And all my crying's done
No more hurting memories can find me.
But till then I lean on you
That's all I mean to do
Till I can make it on my own.
Lord, you know, I'm gonna need a friend
Till I get used to losing you
Let me keep on using you
Till I can make it on my own...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love's Gleaning Tide
Draw not away thy hands, my love,
With wind alone the branches move,
And though the leaves be scant above
The Autumn shall not shame us.
Say; Let the world wax cold and drear,
What is the worst of all the year
But life, and what can hurt us, dear,
Or death, and who shall blame us?
Ah, when the summer comes again
How shall we say, we sowed in vain?
The root was joy, the stem was pain
The ear a nameless blending.
The root is dead and gone, my love,
The stem's a rod our truth to prove;
The ear is stored for nought to move
Till heaven and earth have ending.
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man In The Ocean
This is a song for the man who went down
This is a song for the man in the ocean
This is a heartbeat
This is a part of me
Everyone's reading in, in the papers
Feeling the fear and forgetting it later
This is a heartbeat
This is a part of me
This is the first step learning to fall
These are the wings, this is the call
This is the first kiss, bringing it home
This is the breath and the sex and the bones
And my hands, are full of life
And the rhythm in you, is the rhythm in me
And my hands, are full of life
Oooh, you make me feel
And this is the curse to the wave, that threw you
This is the shame of the years I slept
This is the glory, these are the tears
This is the longing in your belly
This is the siren in your veins
This is the light in the eyes of angels
This is the dark in the heart of danger
And my hands, are full of life
And the rhythm in you, is the rhythm in me
And my hands, are full of life
Oooh, you make me feel
We live forever our minds
A bit still we know there's never time
Enough to share the ones we loved
Enough to have to care to live above
I feel the chain that brings to time
I feel the way you left behind
I feel, this is a part of me
And my hands, are full of life
And the rhythm in you, is the rhythm in me
And my hands, are full of life
Oooh, you make me feel
And I know how loud a heart can beat
And the rhythm in you, is the rhythm in me
And I know, I know
Cause I've heard them scream
This is a heartbeat, this is a part of me
This is a heartbeat, this is a part of me
This is a heartbeat, this is a part of me
This is a heartbeat, this is a part of me
song performed by by Heather Nova
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Ode to Autunm
Death becomes beauty when autumn
Kisses the forest trees
Creating a sea of brilliant colours
As far as the eye can see
Summer dies that fall may live
A death be not all in vain, for we
Welcome fall with its harvest bounty
Knowing summer will once more shortly reign
For autumn is the time trees they weep
Their treasure of red and yellow golden leaves
Whilst Jack Frost paints his icy portraits nightly
Upon any window canvas he can see
Autumn is a magical time
T'which we are truly blessed
Of all the seasons that come and go
Tis fall I like the best
poem by John A. Hancock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Till We Get The Healing Done
Down those old ancient streets
Down those old ancient roads
Baby there together we must go
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till youre satisfied with your life
Till youre satisfied with your life
Till youre satisfied with your life
And its running right, and its running right
Till you deal with the poison inside
Sometimes youve got to sit down and cry
When you deal with the poison inside
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till you feel the tingle up your spine
Till youre satisfied and youre mine
Till you feel a tingle up your spine
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till you live in the glory of the one
Till you live in the land of the sun
Till you feel like your life has just begun
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till we dwell in the house of the lord
Till you dont have to worry no more
Till you open a brand new world
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till it makes you feel alright
Till youre satisfied with your life
Till you know you live in the light
Till we get the healing done
Oh till we get the healing done
Till you look at the mountains every day
Till you wash all your troubles away
And you live right here in the day
Till we get the healing done
Oh till we get the healing done
Oh till its truth and its beauty and its grace
Till youve finally found your true place
Till you know your original face
Till we get the healing done
Oh child, till we get the healing done
Oh when everythings going right
Till youre satisfied with your life
Till youre living in the light
Till we get the healing done
Oh till we get the healing done
Oh when you feel it, when you feel it in your soul
Baby, and you really know
That you reap just what you sow
When we get the healing done
Oh till we get the healing done
Till you know that its working every time
Till you work it out in your mind
And you know it straight down the line
Till you get the healing done
Oh make no worry till we get the healing done
Oh we gonna go back, back to our favourite place
Oh look at it again
See it all through different eyes
When we get the healing done
Oh when we get the healing done
Oh were living for the grace of the lord
Baby feel so good about it all
Oh give thanks every day
Till we get the healing done
Oh till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Oh baby, baby till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Baby you got to stay
Till we get the healing done
If it takes to the break of day
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
Till we get the healing done
You got to stay all night long
Till we get the healing done
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Has Its Seasons
A cool chill sweeps through the air
winter is approaching
soon the grass will have a blanket of white
nights will get longer
then soon it will be over for another year.
Spring will be with us
new growth will spring up from the ground
the days will get warmer
when summer once again appears
spreading its colours everywhere.
Then it is back into autumn once more
and the chilly air that it brings.
Love has its seasons also to share
sometimes it can be frosty
and winter chills fill the air
it can be cold
like the white blanket of snow.
Love can be like spring
imparting new life as it begins to grow.
The glow that if offers
is like the warming summer sun
that blossoms into beauty
before the ravages of autumn come
and the years trickle away.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Degree Finished Sort Out Time
remember
you are young
you have time
degree finished
you had to focus
to complete a degree
time cast managed
mastered sacrificed
you are young
you can nimble easily
exchange change
interactive life parts
career now later
before court marriage
marriage suit or not
wed journey options
are youth time yours
like a degree
take a little care time
to sort out
a little time
can be echo years
a little time
seed harvest grows
life decisions
interchanges
are star maps
dream flights
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Autumn
The leaves are many under my feet,
And drift one way.
Their scent of death is weary and sweet.
A flight of them is in the grey
Where sky and forest meet.
The low winds moan for sad sweet years;
The birds sing all for pain,
Of a common thing, to weary ears,--
Only a summer's fate of rain,
And a woman's fate of tears.
I walk to love and life alone
Over these mournful places,
Across the summer overthrown,
The dead joys of these silent faces,
To claim my own.
I know his heart has beat to bright
Sweet loves gone by;
I know the leaves that die to-night
Once budded to the sky;
And I shall die from his delight.
O leaves, so quietly ending now,
You heard the cuckoos sing.
And I will grow upon my bough
If only for a spring,
And fall when the rain is on my brow.
O tell me, tell me ere you die,
Is it worth the pain?
You bloomed so fair, you waved so high;
Now that the sad days wane,
Are you repenting where you lie?
I lie amongst you, and I kiss
Your fragrance mouldering.
O dead delights, is it such bliss,
That tuneful Spring?
Is love so sweet, that comes to this?
Kiss me again as I kiss you;
Kiss me again;
For all your tuneful nights of dew,
In this your time of rain,
For all your kisses when Spring was new.
You will not, broken hearts; let be.
I pass across your death
To a golden summer you shall not see,
And in your dying breath
There is no benison for me.
There is an autumn yet to wane,
There are leaves yet to fall,
Which, when I kiss, may kiss again,
And, pitied, pity me all for all,
And love me in mist and rain.
poem by Alice Meynell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Genesis
In the outer world that was before this earth,
That was before all shape or space was born,
Before the blind first hour of time had birth,
Before night knew the moonlight or the morn;
Yea, before any world had any light,
Or anything called God or man drew breath,
Slowly the strong sides of the heaving night
Moved, and brought forth the strength of life and death.
And the sad shapeless horror increate
That was all things and one thing, without fruit,
Limit, or law; where love was none, nor hate,
Where no leaf came to blossom from no root;
The very darkness that time knew not of,
Nor God laid hand on, nor was man found there,
Ceased, and was cloven in several shapes; above
Light, and night under, and fire, earth, water, and air.
Sunbeams and starbeams, and all coloured things,
All forms and all similitudes began;
And death, the shadow cast by life's wide wings,
And God, the shade cast by the soul of man.
Then between shadow and substance, night and light,
Then between birth and death, and deeds and days,
The illimitable embrace and the amorous fight
That of itself begets, bears, rears, and slays,
The immortal war of mortal things that is
Labour and life and growth and good and ill,
The mild antiphonies that melt and kiss,
The violent symphonies that meet and kill,
All nature of all things began to be.
But chiefliest in the spirit (beast or man,
Planet of heaven or blossom of earth or sea)
The divine contraries of life began.
For the great labour of growth, being many, is one;
One thing the white death and the ruddy birth;
The invisible air and the all-beholden sun,
And barren water and many-childed earth.
And these things are made manifest in men
From the beginning forth unto this day:
Time writes and life records them, and again
Death seals them lest the record pass away.
For if death were not, then should growth not be,
Change, nor the life of good nor evil things;
Nor were there night at all nor light to see,
Nor water of sweet nor water of bitter springs.
For in each man and each year that is born
Are sown the twin seeds of the strong twin powers;
The white seed of the fruitful helpful morn,
The black seed of the barren hurtful hours.
And he that of the black seed eateth fruit,
To him the savour as honey shall be sweet;
And he in whom the white seed hath struck root,
He shall have sorrow and trouble and tears for meat.
And him whose lips the sweet fruit hath made red
In the end men loathe and make his name a rod;
And him whose mouth on the unsweet fruit hath fed
In the end men follow and know for very God.
And of these twain, the black seed and the white,
All things come forth, endured of men and done;
And still the day is great with child of night,
And still the black night labours with the sun.
And each man and each year that lives on earth
Turns hither or thither, and hence or thence is fed;
And as a man before was from his birth,
So shall a man be after among the dead.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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