The Digging Skeleton
I
In the anatomical plates
displayed on the dusty quays
where many a dry book sleeps
mummified, as in ancient days,
drawings to which the gravity
and skill of some past artist,
despite the gloomy subject
have communicated beauty,
you’ll see, and it renders those
gruesome mysteries more complete,
flayed men, and skeletons posed,
farm-hands, digging the soil at their feet.
II
Peasants, dour and resigned,
convicts pressed from the grave,
what’s the strange harvest, say,
for which you hack the ground,
bending your backbones there,
flexing each fleshless sinew,
what farmer’s barn must you
labour to fill with such care?
Do you seek to show – by that pure,
and terrible, emblem of too hard
a fate! – that even in the bone-yard
the promised sleep’s far from sure:
that even the Void’s a traitor:
that even Death tells us lies,
that in some land new to our eyes,
we must, perhaps, alas, forever,
and ever, and ever, eternally,
wield there the heavy spade,
scrape the dull earth, its blade
beneath our naked, bleeding feet?
poem by Charles Baudelaire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Chalkhills & Children
Im floating over strange land,
Its a soulless, sequined, showbiz moon.
Im floating over strange land,
And then stranger still, theres no balloon.
But Im getting higher,
Wafted up by fames fickle fire til the...
Chalkhills and children,
Anchor my feet.
Chalkhills and children,
Bringing me back to earth,
Eternally and ever ermine street.
(even I never know where I go when my eyes are closed.)
Im skating over thin ice,
Upon blunted blades of metal soft.
Im skating over thin ice,
While some nonesuch net holds me aloft.
But Im getting higher,
Lifted up on lucks circus wire til the...
Chalkhills and children,
Anchor my feet.
Chalkhills and children,
Bringing me back to earth,
Eternally and ever ermine street.
Even I never know where I go when my eyes are closed.
Even I never spied that the scenes were posed.
Even I never knew this is what Id be.
Even eyes never mean that youre sure to see.
Still Im getting higher,
Rolling up on three empty tyres, til the...
Chalkhills and children,
Anchor my feet.
Chalkhills and children,
Bringing me back to earth,
Eternally and ever ermine street.
Im soaring over hushed crowds,
The reluctant cannonball it seems.
Im soaring over hushed crowds,
Im propelled up here by long dead dreams.
Still Im getting higher,
Icarus regrets and retires puzzled.
Chalkhills and children,
Anchor my feet.
Chalkhills and children,
Oddly complete.
(even I never know where I go when my eyes are all closed.)
Here I go again.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chalkhills & Children
Im floating over strange land,
Its a soulless, sequined, showbiz moon.
Im floating over strange land,
And then stranger still, theres no balloon.
But Im getting higher,
Wafted up by fames fickle fire til the...
Chalkhills and children,
Anchor my feet.
Chalkhills and children,
Bringing me back to earth,
Eternally and ever ermine street.
(even I never know where I go when my eyes are closed.)
Im skating over thin ice,
Upon blunted blades of metal soft.
Im skating over thin ice,
While some nonesuch net holds me aloft.
But Im getting higher,
Lifted up on lucks circus wire til the...
Chalkhills and children,
Anchor my feet.
Chalkhills and children,
Bringing me back to earth,
Eternally and ever ermine street.
Even I never know where I go when my eyes are closed.
Even I never spied that the scenes were posed.
Even I never knew this is what Id be.
Even eyes never mean that youre sure to see.
Still Im getting higher,
Rolling up on three empty tyres, til the...
Chalkhills and children,
Anchor my feet.
Chalkhills and children,
Bringing me back to earth,
Eternally and ever ermine street.
Im soaring over hushed crowds,
The reluctant cannonball it seems.
Im soaring over hushed crowds,
Im propelled up here by long dead dreams.
Still Im getting higher,
Icarus regrets and retires puzzled.
Chalkhills and children,
Anchor my feet.
Chalkhills and children,
Oddly complete.
(even I never know where I go when my eyes are all closed.)
Here I go again.
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chalkhills And Children
I'm floating over strange land, it's a soulless, sequined, showbiz
moon. I'm floating over strange land, and then stranger still,
there's no balloon. But I'm getting higher, wafted up by fame's
fickle fire 'til the...
Chalkhills and children, anchor my feet. Chalkhills and children,
bringing me back to earth eternally and ever Ermine Street. (Even I
never know where I go when my eyes are closed.) I'm skating over thin
ice, upon blunted blades of metal soft. I'm skating over thin ice,
while some nonesuch net holds me aloft. But I'm getting higher,
lifted up on lucks' circus wire 'til the...
Chalkhills and children, anchor my feet. Chalkhills and children,
bringing me back to earth eternally and ever Ermine Street. Even I
never know where I go when my eyes are closed. Even I never spied
that the scenes were posed. Even I never knew this is what I'd be.
Even eyes never mean that you're sure to see. Still I'm getting
higher, rolling up on three empty tyres, 'til the...
I'm soaring over hushed crowds, the reluctant cannonball it seems.
I'm soaring over hushed crowds, I'm propelled up here by long dead
dreams. Still I'm getting higher, Icarus regrets and retires puzzled?
Chalkhills and children, anchor my feet. Chalkhills and children,
oddly complete. (Even I never know where I go when my eyes are all
closed.) Here I go again
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Chalkhills And Children
I'm floating over strange land, it's a soulless, sequined, showbiz
moon. I'm floating over strange land, and then stranger still,
there's no balloon. But I'm getting higher, wafted up by fame's
fickle fire 'til the...
Chalkhills and children, anchor my feet. Chalkhills and children,
bringing me back to earth eternally and ever Ermine Street. (Even I
never know where I go when my eyes are closed.) I'm skating over thin
ice, upon blunted blades of metal soft. I'm skating over thin ice,
while some nonesuch net holds me aloft. But I'm getting higher,
lifted up on lucks' circus wire 'til the...
Chalkhills and children, anchor my feet. Chalkhills and children,
bringing me back to earth eternally and ever Ermine Street. Even I
never know where I go when my eyes are closed. Even I never spied
that the scenes were posed. Even I never knew this is what I'd be.
Even eyes never mean that you're sure to see. Still I'm getting
higher, rolling up on three empty tyres, 'til the...
I'm soaring over hushed crowds, the reluctant cannonball it seems.
I'm soaring over hushed crowds, I'm propelled up here by long dead
dreams. Still I'm getting higher, Icarus regrets and retires puzzled?
Chalkhills and children, anchor my feet. Chalkhills and children,
oddly complete. (Even I never know where I go when my eyes are all
closed.) Here I go again
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Canadian Snow Fall
Come to the casement, we’ll watch the snow
Softly descending on earth below,
Fairer and whiter than spotless down
Or the pearls that gleam in a monarch’s crown,
Clothing the earth in its robe’s bright flow;
Is it not lovely—the pure white snow?
See, as it falls o’er the landscape wide,
How kindly it seeks all blots to hide,
Shrouding each black, unsightly nook,
The miry banks of the little brook,
Robing bare branches in ermine white,
Making all lovely, spotless and bright.
In the farm-yard see with what magic skill
Its marvels of beauty it works at will:
The well-house now is a fairy hall,
And the rough, rude fence is a marble wall;
While gates and hillocks where barn fowl ranged
To ramparts and bastions now are changed.
How softly it falls—nor breath, nor sound,
Though four feet high it should pile the ground,
Though it change the face of wood and field,
With skill that no mortal could ever wield;
Yet, as it falls, not a murmur low—
The noiseless, silent, white-winged snow!
See, in the rays of the morning bright,
How it blushes beneath the sun’s red light;
How its diamond crystals gleam and shine,
Clearer than those of Golconda’s mine;
Though the wintry winds may with anger blow,
Surely all love the beautiful snow.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cold Feet
There was a little boy once upon a time
Who in spite of his young age and small size knew his mind
For every copper penny and clover he would find
Make a wish for better days the end of hard times
For no more cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
His clothes were always clean
His face was always scrubbed
There was food on the table enough to fill him up
His house was full of life - his house was full of love
But when winter days arrived
There was never money enough to shod his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He grew up to be a worker determined to succeed
He made a life for himself, free from worldly wants or needs
But with nobody to share the life hed made
No body to keep him warm at night
When hed go to sleep hed sleep alone with his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
One night he walked the street looking to the heavens above
Searching for a shooting star a benevolent god
When a woman passing by brushed his arm
He turned and found love
He then wished for the courage to ask this stranger
Who she was to not have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He thought shed like the party life and want the finer things
So he promised more than he could buy
And he promised her the sun and moon to not have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He worked day and night his fingers to the bone
Hi worried mind guilty conscience drive him on
He cant give her what she needs
He wants to give her what he thinks she wants
Her sad-eyed face, his empty pockets drive him on and his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
Hed struggled all his life to be an honest man
Proud that the dirt on his palms was the soil of the land
But some guys he knew from high school days
Said they had a plan to get rich quick
And they could count him in if he dont have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He thought about their offer accepted it without qualms
Dreamt about the life hed buy
The comfort that would come without cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He decided to tell his wife things would soon turn around
He said the little boy is dead
A man stands with you now without cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
Without cold feet - cold cold cold cold feet
He thought hed set his clock right - he though hed read his watch
He left in such a hurry he didnt think to wish for luck
Makes no difference if youre early - no difference if youre late
When youre out of time - the flowers have been laid
Youre six feet underground
With cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This time in june
It's june
The farmer's spell
With cutlasses and hoes
We rushed off our feet;
Off to the feild we go
It's june
The farmer's delight
With so much rigor
We worked our fingers sore
And in the night
We barely had a sleep
It's june
The farmer's joy
The heavens had opened up
Their hearts upon the earth
For the farmers household
It's time to toil
So, in november;
When harvest finally comes
The farmer walked with pride
It's the pinnacle of his yeild
And he is proud to trade
So, in november;
When harvest finally comes
With basket and sacks
We headed for the feild
It's time to fill our barns;
Even our bellies,
Also; the farmers wallet
A heavy weight to lift
And for the farmers household
It's time for spoils
This time in june;
It was a different story
And my father says;
No pain, no gain!
poem by Bolami lawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Six Feet Of Sod
This is the end of all my ways,
My wanderings on earth,
My gloomy and my golden days,
My madness and my mirth.
I've bought ten thousand blades of grass
To bed me down below,
And here I wait the days to pass
Until I go.
Until I bid good bye to friend,
To feast and fast goodbye,
And in a stint of soil the end
I seek of sun and sky.
My farings far on land and sea,
My trails of global girth
Sum up to this,--to cover me
Six feet of earth.
My home of homes I hold in fee
For centuries to pass,
When snug my skeleton will be
And grin up through the grass;
When my grey ghost will bend above,
And grieve to gracious God
This endless end of life and love,--
Six feet of sod.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Little People
WHO are these strange small folk,
These that come to our homes as kings,
Asking nor leave nor grace,
Bending our necks to their yoke,
Taking the highest place,
And mastery of all things?
Whence they come none may know,
But a wondrous land it must be;
Angels in exile they!
Here in this dull world below
Creatures of sinful clay
We feel near their purity.
Clearer their young eyes are
Than the dew in the cups of flowers
Gleaming, when shines at dawn,
Faintly, the morning’s one star—
Eyes whose still gaze, indrawn,
Sees things unseen by ours.
Deep in those orbs serene—
Little planets be-ringed and bright—
Mysteries marvellous lie:
Known unto us they might mean
Faith, without fear, to die,
All sure of the waiting light.
Dimpled their hands and small—
Would ye, therefore, their might contemn?
Seem they for play designed?
Fate, and the Future withal,
Weal, yea and Woe, of mankind,
Lie hid in the palms of them.
Tyrants, whose terrible names
Make men pale with affright intense,
Worshipping, kiss their feet:
Touch of their little hands tames
Fiercest of hearts that beat—
So mighty is Innocence.
These are the children dear,
From a country unknown of charts:
(Dim Land of Souls Unborn),
Rosy as morn they come here,
Filling with joy forlorn
Waste places in our hearts.
poem by Victor James Daley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Exmoor Verses
I. VASHTI'S SONG
Over the rim of the Moor,
And under the starry sky,
Two men came to my door
And rested them thereby.
Beneath the bough and the star,
In a whispering foreign tongue,
They talked of a land afar
And the merry days so young!
Beneath the dawn and the bough
I heard them arise and go:
And my heart it is aching now
For the more it will never know.
Why did they two depart
Before I could understand?
Where lies that land, O my heart?
-O my heart, where lies that land?
II. SATURN
From my farm, from hèr farm
Furtively we came.
In either home a hearth was warm:
We nursed a hungrier flame.
Our feet were foul with mire,
Our faces blind with mist;
But all the night was naked fire
About us where we kiss'd.
To her farm, to my farm,
Loathing we returned;
Pale beneath a gallow's arm
The planet Saturn burned.
III. DERELICTION
O'er the tears that we shed, dear
The bitter vines twist,
And the hawk and the red deer
They keep where we kiss'd:
All broken lies the shieling
That sheltered from rain,
With a star to pierce the ceiling,
And the dawn an empty pane.
Thro' the mist, up the moorway,
Fade hunters and pack;
From the ridge to thy doorway
Happy voices float back…
O, between the threads o' mist, love,
Reach your hands from the house.
Only mind that we kiss'd, love,
And forget the broken vows!
poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Now Im A Farmer
Ive got a spade and a pick-axe
Ive got a spade and a pick-axe
And a hundred miles square of land to churn about
And a hundred miles square of land to churn about
My old horse is weary but sincerely
My old horse is weary but sincerely
I believe that he can pull a plough
I believe that he can pull a plough
Well Ive moved into the jungle of the agriculture rumble,
Well Ive moved into the jungle of the agriculture rumble,
To grow my own food
To grow my own food
And Ill dig and plough and scrape the weeds
And Ill dig and plough and scrape the weeds
Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through
Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn
Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn
That stretched as far as the eye can see
That stretched as far as the eye can see
Thats a whole lot of cornflakes,
Thats a whole lot of cornflakes,
Near enough to feed new york till 1973
Near enough to feed new york till 1973
Cultivation is my station and the nation
Cultivation is my station and the nation
Buys my corn from me immediately
Buys my corn from me immediately
And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks
And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks
Tip new yorks corn flakes in the sea
Tip new yorks corn flakes in the sea
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
Now look here son
Now look here son
The right thing to say
The right thing to say
Isnt necessarily what you want to say
Isnt necessarily what you want to say
The right thing to do
The right thing to do
Isnt necessarily what you want to do
Isnt necessarily what you want to do
The right things to grow
The right things to grow
Aint necessarily what you want to grow
Aint necessarily what you want to grow
Your own happiness
Your own happiness
Doesnt necessarily teach you what you want to know
Doesnt necessarily teach you what you want to know
Well Im suntanned and deep, sos the horse
Well Im suntanned and deep, sos the horse
And my hands are deeply grained
And my hands are deeply grained
Old horse is a-grazing, its amazing
Old horse is a-grazing, its amazing
Just how lazily he took the strain
Just how lazily he took the strain
Well my pick and spade are rusty,
Well my pick and spade are rusty,
Because Im paid on trust to leave my square of cornfield bare
Because Im paid on trust to leave my square of cornfield bare
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
When you grow what I grow
When you grow what I grow
Tomatoes, potatoes, stew, eggplants ...
Tomatoes, potatoes, stew, eggplants ...
Potatoes, tomatoes ... gourds
Potatoes, tomatoes ... gourds
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Flag
I feel trapped and it's all
In my dirty hands
These walls are closing in
You always were so hard
To please
You thought you had me on
My knees
I think I'm going under
Red flags for all of this
You're cold and calculating
A knife held to my lips
And this anticipating
Blade bleeding for a kiss
[chorus]
This is the day, and you wait
Is this fate, laying waste
And you'll stay here forever
Stay here forever
And all that's left are scars
And lies
Whispering while beauty dies
I claw my neck for answers
As last life slips away
Take me away
song performed by by Kittie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Terra Firma Earthquake Volcano Tsunami Erupts
Earth terra firma safe solid earth under your feet
the Latin phrase terra earth, firma solid, reminds
dry land mass are all safe solid earth beneath feet
continents islands are solid land mass on earth’s surface
but land is not immovable affixed to one solid spot land
is a mobile surface divided into moving tectonic plates
plate boundaries mobile move at relative rates as plates
move against each other enormous pressure builds
up must be released through earth movement the result
natural hazard events earthquake volcano tsunami erupt
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today... 'The Firstfruits
For three days His body was buried in the ground.
and when they went to the tomb He could not be found.
This seed had died has now come bursting through the grave
He is the firstfruits of all those He came to save.
When the end comes and the harvest is gathered in
and innumerable saints are redeemed from sin.
He shall reign with His enemies beneath His feet
and the great plan of salvation will be complete.
For death entered creation through Adam the man
But now in Christ all will be made alive again.
For this grain of wheat fell into the ground and died
but sprang up again and its fruit had multiplied.
Not just by thirty or even a hundredfold
But countless myriads are safe within the fold.
Each of them has been purchased and cleansed by His blood
part of the kingdom He has given back to God.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Seek Beauty
how long
and how lonely
are the steeps of your lies
and yet
how painfully liberating is the path that your truth requires?
so seek
seek beauty
in laughter and in tears
seek love
and fantastic colours just may highlight the dust in your eyes
seek beauty
coz in the end
when the lamp oil
burnt the flicker once and for all
we fade
we perish in that final hour
savouring the promise of glorious dawn
so seek
seek beauty in the ugly and in the vain
seek love
and fantastic colours just may highlight
the dust in your eyes
seek beauty
and take joy
in your daily struggle
let go repulsion as it clings to the shock
discovery
entering illumination
the transformation of matter into void
so seek
seek beauty
in corruption and in the pure
seek love
and fantastic colours just may highlight the dust in your eyes
seek beauty
seek beauty!
poem by Andrew JansBrown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tonight I Sleep With Mother Earth
Seventy more years must pass,
To plus these ones gone past,
My eyelids, before they may close
Before Mother Earth opens up her core
To take my body in once more,
Before I sleep with Mother Earth.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth,
My castles strewn across the sky
Shall come down to the earth,
And grow up to scrape the sky.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth,
Life shall answer all questions posed,
I shall plaster all precious stones
Around my name, in umeasured fold.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth.
I shall grow tall and strong like a giant,
I shall be elephated from ant to elephant.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth,
All ears that hear must hear,
And those that can't must read,
And those that can't must feed,
Ingest by all means, the words that I speak.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth,
I must sleep with Success,
From that whore, I shall receive suck-sex
A crowned head, I'll not settle for any less.
I shall drink from the brooks of plenty,
I shall autograph the books of many.
Before I sleep with Mother Earth,
All my toils shall be brought to boil,
My labour shall bring forth fruit,
Truth and Life shall birth through me, Poetry
All my impregnations shall get expression,
I shall pour out my soul upon all flesh,
And still erect, I shall come, into Mother Earth.
Then I shall say:
'Seventy more years have gone past,
Many more tears have flushed past,
My eyelids, and now they may close,
As Mother Earth opens up her core,
For the time has come, as I said afore,
Tonight I sleep wiith Mother Earth.'
poem by Joba Akinola
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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E.b.b.
THE WHITE-ROSE garland at her feet,
The crown of laurel at her head,
Her noble life on earth complete,
Lay her in the last low bed
For the slumber calm and deep:
“He giveth His belovèd sleep.”
Soldiers find their fittest grave
In the field whereon they died;
So her spirit pure and brave
Leaves the clay it glorified
To the land for which she fought
With such grand impassioned thought.
Keats and Shelley sleep at Rome,
She in well-loved Tuscan earth;
Finding all their death’s long home
Far from their old home of birth.
Italy, you hold in trust
Very sacred English dust.
Therefore this one prayer I breathe,—
That you yet may worthy prove
Of the heirlooms they bequeath
Who have loved you with such love:
Fairest land while land of slaves
Yields their free souls no fit graves.
poem by James Thomson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beggars
It is the beggars who possess the earth.
Kings on their throne have but a narrow girth
Of some poor known dominion; these possess
All the unknown, and that vast happiness
Of the uncertainty of human things.
Wandering on eternal wanderings,
They know the world; and tasting but the bread
Of charity, know man; and, strangely led
By some vague, certain, and appointed hand,
Know fate; and being lonely, understand
Some little of the thing without a name
That sits by the roadside and talks with them,
When they are silent; for the soul is shy
If more than its own shadow loiter by.
They and the birds are old acquaintances,
Knowing the dawn together; theirs it is
To settle on the dusty land like crows,
The ragged vagabonds of the air; who knows
How they too shall be fed, day after day,
And surer than the birds, for are not they
The prodigal sons of God, our piteous
Aliens, outcast and accusing us?
Do they not ask of us their own, and wait,
Humbly, among the dogs about the gate,
While we are feasting? They will wait till night:
Who shall wait longer? Dim, shadowy, white,
The highway calls; they follow till it ends,
And all the way they walk among their friends,
Sun, wind, and rain, their tearful sister rain,
Their brother wind. Forest and hill and plain
Know them and are forgotten. Grey and old,
Their feet begin to linger, brown arms fold
The heavy peace of earth about their heart,
And soon, and without trouble, they depart
On the last journey. As the beggar lies,
With naked face, remembering the skies,
I think he only wonders: Shall I find
A good road still, a hayrick to my mind,
A tavern now and then upon the road?
He has been earth's guest; he goes; the old abode
Drops to the old horizon, the old way
Of yesterday and every yesterday.
We, heavy laden, miserably proud
Because our hands ache and our backs are bowed
With dusty treasures, have so much to quit:
He, nothing, nor the memory of it.
O, the one happiness, when, out of breath,
Our feet slip, and we stumble upon death!
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Baby's Death
A little soul scarce fledged for earth
Takes wing with heaven again for goal
Even while we hailed as fresh from birth
A little soul.
Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll,
Not knowing beyond this blind world's girth
What things are writ in heaven's full scroll.
Our fruitfulness is there but dearth,
And all things held in time's control
Seem there, perchance, ill dreams, not worth
A little soul.
The little feet that never trod
Earth, never strayed in field or street,
What hand leads upward back to God
The little feet?
A rose in June's most honied heat,
When life makes keen the kindling sod,
Was not so soft and warm and sweet.
Their pilgrimage's period
A few swift moons have seen complete
Since mother's hands first clasped and shod
The little feet.
The little hands that never sought
Earth's prizes, worthless all as sands,
What gift has death, God's servant, brought
The little hands?
We ask: but love's self silent stands,
Love, that lends eyes and wings to thought
To search where death's dim heaven expands.
Ere this, perchance, though love know nought,
Flowers fill them, grown in lovelier lands,
Where hands of guiding angels caught
The little hands.
The little eyes that never knew
Light other than of dawning skies,
What new life now lights up anew
The little eyes?
Who knows but on their sleep may rise
Such light as never heaven let through
To lighten earth from Paradise?
No storm, we know, may change the blue
Soft heaven that haply death descries
No tears, like these in ours, bedew
The little eyes.
Was life so strange, so sad the sky,
So strait the wide world's range,
He would not stay to wonder why
Was life so strange?
Was earth's fair house a joyless grange
Beside that house on high
Whence Time that bore him failed to estrange?
That here at once his soul put by
All gifts of time and change,
And left us heavier hearts to sigh
'Was life so strange?'
Angel by name love called him, seeing so fair
The sweet small frame;
Meet to be called, if ever man's child were,
Angel by name.
Rose-bright and warm from heaven's own heart he came,
And might not bear
The cloud that covers earth's wan face with shame.
His little light of life was all too rare
And soft a flame:
Heaven yearned for him till angels hailed him there
Angel by name.
The song that smiled upon his birthday here
Weeps on the grave that holds him undefiled
Whose loss makes bitterer than a soundless tear
The song that smiled.
His name crowned once the mightiest ever styled
Sovereign of arts, and angel: fate and fear
Knew then their master, and were reconciled.
But we saw born beneath some tenderer sphere
Michael, an angel and a little child,
Whose loss bows down to weep upon his bier
The song that smiled.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A strange farm girl
She smiled with the old farmer's son
And he thinks that she's different from others.
The way she holds the sickle
And her talking manner too.
After the harvest festival
She's not to be seen anymore and the farm boy is sad.
''She's with her far relative here
On her school holidays and then back to school.'
His inquisitive widowed sister told.
She helped to the Harvest and not only that
And she's stolen the boy's mild heart.
How many school holidays have passed?
And the usual harvest never stopped.
The farm boy has taken
His deceased father's burden
And like a nonentity he just walks towards the barn!
* 'There are times when silence has the loudest voice.' -Leroy Brownlow
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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