Decreed
Into all lives some rain must fall,
Into all eyes some tear-drops start,
Whether they fall as gentle shower,
Or fall like fire from an aching heart.
Into all hearts some sorrow must creep,
Into all souls some doubtings come,
Lashing the waves of life's great deep
From dimpling waters to seething foam.
Over all paths some clouds must lower,
Under all feet some sharp thorns spring,
Tearing the flesh to bitter wounds,
Or entering the heart with their bitter sting.
Upon all brows rough winds must blow,
Over all shoulders a cross be lain,
Bowing the form in its lofty height
Down to the dust in bitter pain.
Into all hands some duty's thrust;
Unto all arms some burden's given,
Crushing the heart with its weary weight,
Or lifting the soul from earth to heaven.
Into all hearts and homes and lives
God's dear sunlight comes streaming down,
Gilding the ruins of life's great plain--
Weaving for all a golden crown.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Related quotes
Rain drops fall from heaven
Tears swelling up in my eyes every night
Rain drops fall from heaven
Simply a walking disguise in the light
Rain drops fall from heaven
Wondering when i will be alright
Rain drops fall from heaven
Growing so weak no energy to fight
Rain drops fall from heaven
Losing all hope in my mind
Rain drops fall from heaven
Wishing that i could simply unwind
Rain drops fall from heaven
As time goes love makes me blind
Rain drops fall from heaven
Wishing i didn't have to leave her behind
Rain drops fall from heaven
Wanting to make everything right
Rain drops fall from heaven
Wishing i could see her in sight
Rain drops fall from heaven
Wishing I had the strength to fight
Rain drops fall from heaven
Wishing i could hold her tight
Rain drops fall from heaven
Never knowing if she remembers me
Rain drops fall from heaven
Never know if we were meant to be
Rain drops fall from heaven
Wishing i had more time to see
Rain drops fall from heaven
My family that always loved me
Rain drops fall from heaven
Thinking back to the times we had
Rain drops fall from heaven
Smiles and laughter but yet so sad
Rain drops fall from heaven
Just sitting here all alone
Rain drops fall from heaven
Wishing i was way back home
Rain drops fall from heaven
Now the only thing that is on my mind
Rain drops fall from heaven
Is the memories i have way back in time
Rain drops fall from heaven
The tears from my eyes and deep inside
Rain drops fall from heaven
Matches the drops that come from the sky
Rain drops fall from heaven
If you could even begin to wonder why
Rain drops fall from heaven
It is simply those tears from lies
Rain drops fall from heaven
Every time it rains i stare to the clouds
Rain drops fall from heaven
Hoping one day she will simply fall
Rain drops fall from heaven
Right into my arms where she belongs
Rain drops fall from heaven
So that i can sing her a song
Rain drops fall from heaven
A song that tells her how i feel
Rain drops fall from heaven
A song that is nothing but real
Rain drops fall from heaven
That will be the day that will bring me joy
Rain drops fall from heaven
Too bad it wont happen to this boy
Rain drops fall from my eyes 24/7
poem by Joshua Thomas Gage
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My Only Song
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
You took it all
Without any gain.
You loved us all
With gentle eyes
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
39 plus one
Lashes great fall on your back
A crown of thorns
Pressed down around your head
The blood runs down
and yet you cry
'So many lost;
So many die.'
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
Leave it now-
And cry again
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
Your troubled heart
Feels my pain.
Lifted up to die
Bitter gall served fresh
As wine
Yet you'd do it again
For one lost sheep
That beats in the air.
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
When is it enough?
So much grief
You swallow up
Yet you bore it
And demand me live-
Man of sorrow
I humbled myself down.
All glory to you
Man of sorrow
All thrones belong to you
Man of pain
You gave me life and
Even more
I have nothing
But myself to give -
Yet I keep taking it back
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain.
poem by Charlotte Ballard
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He Lives
I know he lives.
The greatest man.
Endless love he gives.
Through his life he saved us all.
Showing and teaching us how not to fall.
Hear him now for you he calls.
To share his light so you'll stand tall.
He shares our pain.
He stops the rain.
The bitter envy of our souls that drains.
You can go to him and explain.
The pain you feel from this ordeal.
He listens closely, then holds you dear.
To show you that you need not fear.
Take his hand you'll persevere.
He bore his cross for all of us.
Without him you'll just turn to dust.
He truly lives I know it's so.
I feel his love.
It makes me glow.
poem by Michael McParland
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Good Friday
Is it not strange, the darkest hour
That ever dawned on sinful earth
Should touch the heart with softer power
For comfort than an angel's mirth?
That to the Cross the mourner's eye should turn
Sooner than where the stars of Christmas burn?
Sooner than where the Easter sun
Shines glorious on yon open grave,
And to and fro the tidings run,
"Who died to heal, is risen to save?"
Sooner than where upon the Saviour's friends
The very Comforter in light and love descends?
Yet so it is: for duly there
The bitter herbs of earth are set,
Till tempered by the Saviour's prayer,
And with the Saviour's life-blood wet,
They turn to sweetness, and drop holy balm,
Soft as imprisoned martyr's deathbed calm.
All turn to sweet--but most of all
That bitterest to the lip of pride,
When hopes presumptuous fade and fall,
Or Friendship scorns us, duly tried,
Or Love, the flower that closes up for fear
When rude and selfish spirits breathe too near.
Then like a long-forgotten strain
Comes sweeping o'er the heart forlorn
What sunshine hours had taught in vain
Of JESUS suffering shame and scorn,
As in all lowly hearts he suffers still,
While we triumphant ride and have the world at will.
His pierced hands in vain would hide
His face from rude reproachful gaze,
His ears are open to abide
The wildest storm the tongue can raise,
He who with one rough word, some early day,
Their idol world and them shall sweep for aye away.
But we by Fancy may assuage
The festering sore by Fancy made,
Down in some lonely hermitage
Like wounded pilgrims safely laid,
Where gentlest breezes whisper souls distressed,
That Love yet lives, and Patience shall find rest.
O! shame beyond the bitterest thought
That evil spirit ever framed,
That sinners know what Jesus wrought,
Yet feel their haughty hearts untamed -
That souls in refuge, holding by the Cross,
Should wince and fret at this world's little loss.
Lord of my heart, by Thy last cry,
Let not Thy blood on earth be spent -
Lo, at Thy feet I fainting lie,
Mine eyes upon Thy wounds are bent,
Upon Thy streaming wounds my weary eyes
Wait like the parched earth on April skies.
Wash me, and dry these bitter tears,
O let my heart no further roam,
'Tis Thine by vows, and hopes, and fears.
Long since--O call Thy wanderer home;
To that dear home, safe in Thy wounded side,
Where only broken hearts their sin and shame may hide.
poem by John Keble
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The Dread Of Height
Not the Circean wine
Most perilous is for pain:
Grapes of the heavens' star-loaden vine,
Whereto the lofty-placed
Thoughts of fair souls attain,
Tempt with a more retributive delight,
And do disrelish all life's sober taste.
'Tis to have drunk too well
The drink that is divine,
Maketh the kind earth waste,
And breath intolerable.
Ah me!
How shall my mouth content it with mortality?
Lo, secret music, sweetest music,
From distances of distance drifting its lone flight,
Down the arcane where Night would perish in night,
Like a god's loosened locks slips undulously:
Music that is too grievous of the height
For safe and low delight,
Too infinite,
For bounded hearts which yet would girth the sea!
So let it be,
Though sweet be great, and though my heart be small:
So let it be,
O music, music, though you wake in me
No joy, no joy at all;
Although you only wake
Uttermost sadness, measure of delight,
Which else I could not credit to the height,
Did I not know,
That ill is statured to its opposite;
Did I not know,
And even of sadness so,
Of utter sadness make,
Of extreme sad a rod to mete
The incredible excess of unsensed sweet,
And mystic wall of strange felicity.
So let it be,
Though sweet be great, and though my heart be small,
And bitter meat
The food of gods for men to eat;
Yea, John ate daintier, and did tread
Less ways of heat,
Than whom to their wind-carpeted
High banquet-hall,
And golden love-feasts, the fair stars entreat.
But ah withal,
Some hold, some stay,
O difficult Joy, I pray,
Some arms of thine,
Not only, only arms of mine!
Lest like a weary girl I fall
From clasping love so high,
And lacking thus thine arms, then may
Most hapless I
Turn utterly to love of basest rate;
For low they fall whose fall is from the sky.
Yea, who me shall secure
But I of height grown desperate
Surcease my wing, and my lost fate
Be dashed from pure
To broken writhings in the shameful slime:
Lower than man, for I dreamed higher,
Thrust down, by how much I aspire,
And damned with drink of immortality?
For such things be,
Yea, and the lowest reach of reeky Hell
Is but made possible
By forta'en breath of Heaven's austerest clime.
These tidings from the vast to bring
Needeth not doctor nor divine,
Too well, too well
My flesh doth know the heart-perturbing thing;
That dread theology alone
Is mine,
Most native and my own;
And ever with victorious toil
When I have made
Of the deific peaks dim escalade,
My soul with anguish and recoil
Doth like a city in an earthquake rock,
As at my feet the abyss is cloven then,
With deeper menace than for other men,
Of my potential cousinship with mire;
That all my conquered skies do grow a hollow mock,
My fearful powers retire,
No longer strong,
Reversing the shook banners of their song.
Ah, for a heart less native to high Heaven,
A hooded eye, for jesses and restraint,
Or for a will accipitrine to pursue!
The veil of tutelar flesh to simple livers given,
Or those brave-fledging fervours of the Saint,
Whose heavenly falcon-craft doth never taint,
Nor they in sickest time their ample virtue mew.
poem by Francis Thompson
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Satia te Sanguine
IF YOU loved me ever so little,
I could bear the bonds that gall,
I could dream the bonds were brittle;
You do not love me at all.
O beautiful lips, O bosom
More white than the moon’s and warm,
A sterile, a ruinous blossom
Is blown your way in a storm.
As the lost white feverish limbs
Of the Lesbian Sappho, adrift
In foam where the sea-weed swims,
Swam loose for the streams to lift,
My heart swims blind in a sea
That stuns me; swims to and fro,
And gathers to windward and lee
Lamentation, and mourning, and woe.
A broken, an emptied boat,
Sea saps it, winds blow apart,
Sick and adrift and afloat,
The barren waif of a heart.
Where, when the gods would be cruel,
Do they go for a torture? where
Plant thorns, set pain like a jewel?
Ah, not in the flesh, not there!
The racks of earth and the rods
Are weak as foam on the sands;
In the heart is the prey for gods,
Who crucify hearts, not hands.
Mere pangs corrode and consume,
Dead when life dies in the brain;
In the infinite spirit is room
For the pulse of an infinite pain.
I wish you were dead, my dear;
I would give you, had I to give,
Some death too bitter to fear;
It is better to die than live.
I wish you were stricken of thunder
And burnt with a bright flame through,
Consumed and cloven in sunder,
I dead at your feet like you.
If I could but know after all,
I might cease to hunger and ache,
Though your heart were ever so small,
If it were not a stone or a snake.
You are crueller, you that we love,
Than hatred, hunger, or death;
You have eyes and breasts like a dove,
And you kill men’s hearts with a breath.
As plague in a poisonous city
Insults and exults on her dead,
So you, when pallid for pity
Comes love, and fawns to be fed.
As a tame beast writhes and wheedles,
He fawns to be fed with wiles;
You carve him a cross of needles,
And whet them sharp as your smiles.
He is patient of thorn and whip,
He is dumb under axe or dart;
You suck with a sleepy red lip
The wet red wounds in his heart.
You thrill as his pulses dwindle,
You brighten and warm as he bleeds,
With insatiable eyes that kindle
And insatiable mouth that feeds.
Your hands nailed love to the tree,
You stript him, scourged him with rods,
And drowned him deep in the sea
That hides the dead and their gods.
And for all this, die will he not;
There is no man sees him but I;
You came and went and forgot;
I hope he will some day die.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Tear Drops Of An Angel
the parts in the () are talking...its a song
(Hello,
Wait what,
Slow down,
I cannot understand you,
Why are you crying?)
I guess it was better you found out now,
I could not keep on living this lie,
You were the first girl.
Stop crying, dear,
Your tear drops are flying, dear,
They are drying, dear,
You are dieing, dear.
Tear drops of an angel,
The sweetest cry I can hear,
Stop your crying now dear,
For my heart, you are shattering.
Tear drops of an angel,
The darkest curse of my heart,
Crimson tears fall from your eyes,
Breaking me with each drop.
Tear drops of an angel…
Tear drops of an angel…
Tear drops of an angel…
I am sorry I cheated, dear,
It was a weakness, dear,
It was my fault, dear,
A sin of the flesh, dear.
Tear drops of an angel,
The sweetest cry I can hear,
Stop your crying now, dear,
For my heart, you are shattering.
Tear drops of an angel,
The darkest curse of my heart,
Crimson tears fall from your eyes,
Breaking me with each drop.
Tear drops of an angel…
Tear drops of an angel…
Tear drops of an angel…
poem by Evan Skora
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One Sweet Rain
Rain is my teardropp from sky’s glass castles
From heaven it comes to your hands, it slides
It lets you seek white clouds and up the sky
Brush lashes, wipe eyes, each time you cry
Rain reminds you of a Great God, who cares
It lets you feel my love, it whispers nigh
How I adore, I keep your every kiss
In my heart, when it rains, our love’s a bliss!
Rain, drops in the fields in time of sorrow
Fill hearts with hope now and tomorrow
Wash white as snow, tender, pure and fragrant
The angels chant in the drum strings of rain
Rainbows form; magenta, pink, and blue
Connecting valleys, cliffs, and mountains
Splatter in river, shred showers of falls
A baptism sudden in the dessert, calls
Rain, rain, let cradle your tired day
I think of you, my life, in every way
And when things come and seem to be unfair
Let raindrops fall, your tear is mine to bear
Rain, rain I love you more, when it rains
When together we’d hold like roots and lighting
When together we’d hug like torrents,
You and I; one sweet rain from God’s heart.
poem by Rose Flores Rosevoc2
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The Joy Of The Cross
Long plunged in sorrow, I resign
My soul to that dear hand of thine,
Without reserve or fear;
That hand shall wipe my streaming eyes;
Or into smiles of glad surprise
Transform the falling tear.
My sole possession is thy love;
In earth beneath, or heaven above,
I have no other store;
And, though with fervent suit I pray,
And importune thee night and day,
I ask thee nothing more.
My rapid hours pursue the course
Prescribed them by love's sweetest force,
And I thy sovereign will,
Without a wish to escape my doom;
Though still a sufferer from the womb,
And doomed to suffer still.
By thy command, where'er I stray,
Sorrow attends me all my way,
A never–failing friend;
And, if my sufferings may augment
Thy praise, behold me well content--
Let sorrow still attend!
It cost me no regret, that she,
Who followed Christ, should follow me,
And though, where'er she goes,
Thorns spring spontaneous at her feet,
I love her, and extract a sweet
From all my bitter woes.
Adieu! ye vain delights of earth,
Insipid sports, and childish mirth,
I taste no sweets in you;
Unknown delights are in the cross,
All joy beside to me is dross;
And Jesus thought so too.
The cross! Oh, ravishment and bliss--
How grateful e'en its anguish is;
Its bitterness how sweet!
There every sense, and all the mind,
In all her faculties refined,
Tastes happiness complete.
Souls once enabled to disdain
Base sublunary joys, maintain
Their dignity secure;
The fever of desire is passed,
And love has all its genuine taste,
Is delicate and pure.
Self–love no grace in sorrow sees,
Consults her own peculiar ease;
'Tis all the bliss she knows;
But nobler aims true Love employ;
In self–denial is her joy,
In suffering her repose.
Sorrow and love go side by side;
Nor height nor depth can e'er divide
Their heaven–appointed bands;
Those dear associates still are one,
Nor till the race of life is run
Disjoin their wedded hands.
Jesus, avenger of our fall,
Thou faithful lover, above all
The cross has ever borne!
Oh, tell me,--life is in thy voice--
How much afflictions were thy choice,
And sloth and ease thy scorn!
Thy choice and mine shall be the same,
Inspirer of that holy flame
Which must for ever blaze!
To take the cross and follow thee,
Where love and duty lead, shall be
My portion and my praise.
poem by William Cowper
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Mary Magdalene II
People clean their homes before the feast.
Stepping from the bustle of the street
I go down before Thee on my knees
And anoint with myrrh Thy holy feet.
Groping round, I cannot find the shoes
For the tears that well up with my sighs.
My impatient tresses, breaking loose,
Like a pall hang thick before my eyes.
I take up Thy feet onto my lap,
Wash them clean with hot tears from my eyes,
In my hair Thy precious feet I wrap,
And my string of pearls around them tie.
I now see the future in detail,
As if it were stopped in flight by Thee.
Like a raving sibyl, I could tell
What will happen, how it will all be.
In the temple, veils will fall tomorrow,
We shall form a frightened group apart,
And the earth will shake-perhaps from sorrow
And from pity for my tortured heart.
Troops will then reform and march away
To the thud of hoofs and heavy tread,
And the cross will reach towards the sky
Like a water-spout above our heads.
By the cross, I'll fall down on the ground,
I shall bite my lips till I draw blood.
On the cross, your arms will be spread out-
Wide enough to hug the whole wide world.
Who's this for, this glory and this strife?
Who's this for, this torment and this might?
Are there enough souls on earth, and lives?
Are there enough cities, dales and heights?
But three days-such days and nights will pass-
They will fill me with such crushing dread
That I'll see the joyous truth, at last:
I shall know Christ will rise from the dead.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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AuTuMn TiMe
Autumn breeze frigidly touches ailing dreadful lives
Harshly darkness quietly surrounds the broken souls
Mellow serenades that once played between hearts
Pathetically have transformed into bitter sad songs
Somewhere beyond the flossy clouds
Cupid has lost his romancing arrows
Plays sad sonorous tunes on his bow
Dedicated to all weepy lonely hearts
Howling chilly wind blows through the mist
Sounds of sorrow spread all over the place
Fuzzy humid air submerges the inner lust
Lives decay slowly as the autumn leaves fall...
poem by lil'emo'kid BwOkEnHeArT
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Father - You Are My All
Dear Lord in Heaven, I hear your voice in the sounds of the falling rain.
I feel you Lord when the warm winds touch my face
I see you when I look at the stars high in the sky.
When no one else is near me Lord, I know you are standing by.
When I’m weak Father, you give me strength and when I’m blind
Father you find a way to make me see.
You are the wind that whispers through the swishing of trees,
the quiet still that lingers in the open sea.
You are the roar of thunder before the great rains fall.
You are the spring, summer, winter and fall.
My dear Father you are everything, you are my all.
The King of kings Lord, you sit on the great throne,
the giver of love and the taker of pain.
Father I will continue to worship you again and again.
I love you Father with all my heart and soul,
without you Father I would not be whole.
I ask Father God, that you stay within my heart
and walk with me to the end of my days.
When you take me Father to cross that threshold
to everlasting life. Please lead me on that glorious
path to Calvary where I may stand and live with thee.
Thank you Father God in the name of your precious
Son “Jesus”. A men
Written: Jan.13,2008
poem by Melvina Germain
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Hearts Fall
Edwin McCain
Hearts Fall
Pin feathers, dusty old wings
Living all my crazy never-land dreams
And I feel her trying when were apart
And I feel like dying
God dont let me break her heart
God dont let me break her heart
God dont let me break her heart
And the hearts fall in the right places
And the hearts fall in the right places
And how she loves me, I dont understand
And if time wont change me, perhaps she can
And I feel her trying when were apart
And I feel like dying
God dont let me break her heart
God dont let me break her heart
God dont let me break her heart
My selfish anger and I just run away
But a perfect heart always makes me stay
God dont let me break her heart
God dont let me break her heart
God dont let me break her heart
And the hearts fall in the right places
And the hearts fall in the right places
And the hearts fall in the right places
And the hearts fall in the right places
And the hearts fall in the right places
And the hearts fall in the right places
song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Put The Weight On My Shoulders
Put the weight on my shoulders
Take the load off of your mind
Cause the headwinds that blow
Will fade away in time
Rest yourself on my waters
Take the lifeline from me
Rise above what has passed
And let yourself be free
I only know what love must bear
Through laiden times I will be there
And when your down Ill break the fall
Loose the weight on my shoulders
It aint no weight at all
I only know what love must do
When fortune cries Ill follow you
And when your down Ill break your fall
Put the weight on my shoulders
It aint no weight at all
Put the weight on my shoulders
See you star how it shines
Cause theyre so many dreams
Left to find
Put the weight on my shoulders .....
Put the weight on my shoulders .....
Put the weight on my shoulders .....
Put the weight on my shoulders .....
Put the weight on my shoulders .....
song performed by by Gino Vanelli
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bitter Love
down from the branches fall the leaves,
a wanness comes on all the trees,
the summers done;
and into his last house in heaven,
now goes the sun.
sharp frost destroys the tender sprays,
birds are cold in these short days,
the Nightengale
is grieving that the fire of heaven
is now grown pale.
the swollen river rushes on
past meadows whence the green has gone,
the golden sun
has filled our world.snow falls by day
the nights are numb.
about me all the world is stark,
and i am burning; in my heart
there is a fire
a living flame in me, the maid
of my desire
your kisses, fuel my fire,
your tender touches, flaming higher.
the light of light
dwells in your eyes; divinity
is in your sight.
greek fire can be extingwished
by bitter wine; my fire is fed
on other meat.
yea, even the bitterness of love
is bitter sweet
poem by Brian Saling
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When Evening Shadows Fall
When evening shadows fall,
She hangs her cares away
Like empty garments on the wall
That hides her from the day;
And while old memories throng,
And vanished voices call,
She lifts her grateful heart in song
When evening shadows fall.
Her weary hands forget
The burdens of the day.
The weight of sorrow and regret
In music rolls away;
And from the day's dull tomb,
That holds her in its thrall,
Her soul springs up in lily bloom
When evening shadows fall.
O weary heart and hand,
Go bravely to the strife--
No victory is half so grand
As that which conquers life!
One day shall yet be thine--
The day that waits for all
Whose prayerful eyes are things divine
When evening shadows fall.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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A Rusty Nail
I ran a nail into my hand,
The wound was hard to heal;
So bitter was the pain to stand
I thought how it would feel,
To have spikes thrust through hands and feet,
Impaled by hammer beat.
Then hoisted on a cross of oak
Against the sullen sky,
With all about the jeering follk
Who joyed to see me die;
Die hardly in insensate heat,
With bleeding hands and feet.
Yet was it not that day of Fate,
Of cruelty insane,
Climaxing centuries of hate
That woke our souls to pain!
And are we not the living seed
Of those who did the deed!
Of course, with thankful heart I know
We are not fiends as then;
And in a thousand years or so
We may be gentle men.
But it has cost a poisoned hand,
And pain beyond a cry,
To make me strangely understand
A Cross against the sky.
poem by Robert William Service
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The Telegraph Clerk
Sitting here by my desk all day,
Hearing the constant click
As the messages speed on their way,
And the call comes sharp and quick--
Oh, what a varied tale they tell
Of joy and hope and fear!
The funeral knell and the marriage bell
In their steady tick I hear.
'Mother is dying; come at once.'
And the tears will almost start,
For tender daughters and loving sons--
God pity each aching heart!
Ah! how the haunting memories press
Of the mother's unfailing tenderness,
That is now forever o'er.
'I am well; will come tonight.'
How bright some eyes will glow
All day long with a happy light
As they watch the moments go.
Have had no letters; is something wrong?'
Some heart is sad today,
Counting the hours that seem so long
For the sake of one away.
'Arthur Ross, by accident killed;
Tell his mother, am coming home.'
Alas for the home with such sorrow filled,
When the bitter tidings come!
'Alice is better; gaining fast.'
And hearts that have been bowed
Under their weight of fear, at last
Shall lose their weary load.
So over the wires the tidings speed,
Bitter and grave and gay;
Some hearts shall beat, and some shall bleed,
For the tale they have to say.
As I sit all day by my desk alone
I hear the steam go by,
And catch the wires' changeful tone
With a smile and then a sigh.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Pride That Comes After
It knows it all, it knows it all,
The world of groans and laughter,
It sneers of pride before a fall,
But the bitter pride comes after:
So leave me and I’ll seek you not,
So seek me and you’ll find me—
But till I know your hand-grip’s true
I’ll stand with hands behind me.
It knows it all, it knows it all,
The world of lies and sorrow—
It prates of pride before a fall,
And of the humble morrow;
But shame and blame are but a name,
Oh, heart that’s hurt past curing!
We’ll drink to-night the sinner’s pride,
The pride that’s most enduring.
They know it all, they know it all,
The curs that pass the sentence.
They preach of pride before a fall
And bitter black repentance:
So leave me when my star is set,
I’ll glory that you leave me,
While one has pride to love me yet
There’s nought on earth shall grieve me.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Joy & Sorrow
Oh girl we are the same
We are young and lost and so afraid
There? s no cure for the pain
No shelter from the rain
All our prayers seem to fail
In joy and sorrow my homes in your arms
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
In joy and sorrow my homes in your amrs
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
Oh girl we are the same
We are strong and blessed and so brave
With souls to be saved
And faith regained
All our tears wipe away
In joy and sorrow my homes in your arms
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
In joy and sorrow my homes in your arms
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
In joy and sorrow my homes in your arms
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
In joy and sorrow my homes in your arms
In world so hollow
It is breaking my heart
And my homes in your arms
And it is breaking my heart
My homes in your arms
And it is breaking my heart
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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