Voices Of The Night
'The tender Grace of a day that is past.'
The dew is on the roses,
The owl hath spread her wing;
And vocal are the noses
Of peasant and of king:
'Nature' (in short) 'reposes;'
But I do no such thing.
Pent in my lonesome study
Here I must sit and muse;
Sit till the morn grows ruddy,
Till, rising with the dews,
'Jeameses' remove the muddy
Spots from their masters' shoes.
Yet are sweet faces flinging
Their witchery o'er me here:
I hear sweet voices singing
A song as soft, as clear,
As (previously to stinging)
A gnat sings round one's ear.
Does Grace draw young Apollos
In blue mustachios still?
Does Emma tell the swallows
How she will pipe and trill,
When, some fine day, she follows
Those birds to the window-sill?
And oh! has Albert faded
From Grace's memory yet?
Albert, whose 'brow was shaded
By locks of glossiest jet,'
Whom almost any lady'd
Have given her eyes to get?
Does not her conscience smite her
For one who hourly pines,
Thinking her bright eyes brighter
Than any star that shines -
I mean of course the writer
Of these pathetic lines?
Who knows? As quoth Sir Walter,
'Time rolls his ceaseless course:
'The Grace of yore' may alter -
And then, I've one resource:
I'll invest in a bran-new halter,
And I'll perish without remorse.
poem by Charles Stuart Calverley
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Related quotes
Amazing Grace
(Traditional)
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now I'm found
Was blind but now I see
Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come
Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home
When we've been there ten thousand years
Bright shining as the sun
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we first begun
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now I'm found
Was blind but now I see
Amazing grace, oh amazing grace
That saved a wretch like me
Oh amazing grace, amazing grace
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amazing Grace
Amazing grace! How sweet the sound!
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found,
was blind, but now I see.
Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
and grace my fears relieved.
How precious did that grace appear,
the hour I first believed!
Through many dangers, toils, and snares
I have already come.
Tis grace that brought me safe thus far,
and grace will lead me home.
When we've been there ten thousand years,
bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's grace,
than when we first begun.
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Preparatory Meditations - First Series: 32
(I. Corinthians 3:22. Whether Paul or Apollos, or Cephas)
Thy grace, dear Lord, 's my golden wrack, I find,
Screwing my fancy into ragged rhymes,
Tuning Thy praises in my feeble mind
Until I come to strike them on my chimes.
Were I an angel bright, and borrow could
King David's harp, I would them play on gold.
But plunged I am, my mind is puzzled,
When I would spin my fancy thus unspun,
In finest twine of praise I'm muzzled,
My tazzled thoughts twirled into snick-snarls run.
Thy grace, my Lord, is such a glorious thing,
It doth confound me when I would it sing.
Eternal love an object mean did smite,
Which by the prince of darkness was beguiled,
That from this love it ran and swelled with spite,
And in the way with filth was all defiled,
Yet must be reconciled, cleansed, and begraced,
Or from the fruits of God's first love displaced.
Then grace, my Lord, wrought in Thy heart a vent,
Thy soft soft hand to this hard work did go,
And to the milk-white throne of justice went
And entered bond that grace might overflow.
Hence did Thy person t my nature tie
And bleed through human veins to satisfy.
Oh! grace, grace, grace! This wealthy grace doth lay
Her golden channels from Thy father's throne,
Into our earthen pitchers to convey
Heaven's aqua vitae to s for our own.
O! Let Thy golden gutters run into
My cup this liquor till it overflow.
Thine ordinances, grace's wine-fats where
Thy spirit walks, and grace's runs do lie,
And angels waiting stand with holy cheer
From grace's conduit head, with all supply.
These vessels full of grace are, and the bowls
In which their taps do run are precious souls.
Thou to the cups dost say (that catch this wine)
'This liquor, golden pipes, and wine-fats plain,
Whether Paul, Apollos, Cephas, all are thine.'
Oh golden word! Lord, speak it o'er again.
Lord, speak it home to me, say these are mine.
My bells shall then Thy praises bravely chime.
poem by Edward Taylor
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Amazing Grace
(words & music traditional)
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was blind but now am found
Was blind but now I see
It was grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed
Through many dangers, toils and snares
I have already come
tis grace hath brot me safe thus far
And grace will lead me home
How sweet the name of jesus sounds
In a believers ear
It soothes his sorrows, heals the wounds
And drives away his fear
Must jesus bear the cross alone
And all the world go free
No, theres a cross for evry one
And theres a cross for me
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Graceful Pillar
Grace has a pillar of obvious concentration,
Of stone it is built, of a soul and mind it stored.
Grace may live among houses
Where the pier of gratitude is,
Everywhere goes the sea of thankful grace.
Grace has a stationary title of sun and star,
Of goggles the eyes of grace do speak,
Hated is a craving for height, of weight, of general size.
Grace may be open like a shop,
Or the pier of handsome repose is taken by waves
To be eroded and expelled from the land and sea.
poem by Naveed Akram
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In the spirit of Rumi 57: Grace
But what is grace?
By grace we were as we were.
By grace we are as we are.
By grace we shall be as we will be.
That's grace.
But what is grace?
Grace is what it does.
Catch it as it acts; smiles; passes.
That too is grace.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Four Princesses At Wilna. A Photograph
Sweet faces, that from pictured casements lean
As from a castle window, looking down
On some gay pageant passing through a town,
Yourselves the fairest figures in the scene;
With what a gentle grace, with what serene
Unconsciousness ye wear the triple crown
Of youth and beauty and the fair renown
Of a great name, that ne'er hath tarnished been!
From your soft eyes, so innocent and sweet,
Four spirits, sweet and innocent as they,
Gaze on the world below, the sky above;
Hark! there is some one singing in the street;
'Faith, Hope, and Love! these three,' he seems to say;
'These three; and greatest of the three is Love.'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Amazing Grace
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.
T'was Grace that taught...
my heart to fear.
And Grace, my fears relieved.
How precious did that Grace appear...
the hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares...
we have already come.
T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...
and Grace will lead us home.
The Lord has promised good to me...
His word my hope secures.
He will my shield and portion be...
as long as life endures.
When we've been here a thousand years...
bright shining as the sun.
We've no less days to sing God's praise...
then when we've first begun.
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me....
I once was lost but now am found,
Was blind, but now, I see.
(End)
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Secrete Beauty
She was not blessed with comely grace,
spurned and shunned by cupids arrows
because of her displeasing face
and breasts like kneecaps on a sparrow.
Her scrawny frame one could infer
if dressed in red and eyed sideways
she'd mimic a thermometer;
no outward grace to be displayed.
Her real beauty was deep inside
hidden behind two large, brown eyes
where a beautiful soul resides
eternally and undisguised.
Beauty is a skin-deep grace
it's just a temporary thing:
a short-term asset on a face
that fades away like this years spring.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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The Nature
Beauty is the nature's natural name,
The nature is poet's soulful game;
Her moods, rhythms and colours frame
Heaven on the earth in poet's dream.
Picturesque orchestra of the nature's rhyme
Stirs subtle sweet passion's flame;
The nature sings in silence for all souls,
Dawns new feel of devotional whole.
Blue in the sky and green all round
How change in mood with the passing time!
Cool of breeze and warmth of sunshine
How weave rare joy in the nature's womb!
Musics of streams and chirpings of birds
Rise like hymns from the nature's trove,
Clouds afloat and smiling sweet flowers
Swing in wind to greet all souls.
Air is thick with relaxed mood,
What a thrill, what an inspiring stir
Hangs in air like the heaven's benison
And blends onlookers with the nature's soul!
The grace of god as heavenly light
Diffracts as kaleidoscopic spectrum,
A spell everywhere, arcane vibrations,
The nature's music catches like fire.
What a sweet soft madness inside,
What a sweet soft madness inside
In the nature's calm rise and fall,
In the still quietude, in the quiet simple mood!
Those simple forms, those gentle hues,
Those quiet moves, those silent songs,
Those magic spells of sweet fragrance,
What a blend, what a shocking grace!
The nature, not mere nature, a cradle of beauty,
A ladder for all divine gifts,
An open keek to the streaks of heaven
In untouched lively virgin form.
The nature is a clean mirror of the soul
Where the soul itself reflects for real,
Bright like the sun, yet soft like the moon
And refreshingly pure like the morning dews.
poem by Praveen Kumar
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Spring Time Is Coming
Beautiful Spring is coming,
Ah, yes, will soon be here,
For the clear bright sun is shining
All human hearts to cheer.
One the brightest gems of nature
Is the orb that o'er us shines,
And o'er the wide creation,
It'll shine to the end of time.
The birds will soon be singing
On shrub and bough of trees,
Their notes will soon be ringing
Out, forth so merrily.
They love the merry spring time,
Those little birds we love,
They love the pleasant sunshine
That comes down from above.
We can hear them sweetly singing
From early morn, till night.
They make music in the woodland
Those little birds; so bright,
We should dearly love them,
Those little harmless things,
And when we hear their music,
We know that it is spring.
Ah; it's pleasant in the springtime,
All nature seems so gay.
Bright flowers in the sunshine,
Sweet fragrance can display.
The hills, and dales, and meadows,
So beautifully covered o'er;
With natures richest verdure,
The green grass, as of yore.
The winter will soon be over,
With its cold and chilly winds.
It is sad and dreary ever,
Yet its dying, free from sin.
Now the springtime is coming,
Ah, yes, will soon be here.
We will welcome in its coming
In this glad new year.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Amazing Grace
Amazing grace! how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.
twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
The lord has promised good to me,
His word my hope secures;
He will be my shield and portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
When weve been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
Weve no less days to sing gods praise
Than when wed first begun.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring.
'Let the light rain on her, the sweet Spring, till
She teems with greenery in the warm air,
Flower-hued, and vocal with the tender joy
Of bleating lambs and young birds on the wing.'
Thus on the cold hill doth the herdsman pray
Beneath his frozen star; the milkmaid, too,
As her raw hands take up the milking-pail,
And the wind freezes in the red dawn near: —
'Come, Spring, earth's sap, and mount in me until
I bloom, a rose of love: smile in mine eyes
Till my love from his wintry hill shall see
The star of youth, and leap into my arms!
O Spring, sweet Spring! but hear my prayer, and I
Shall build thee bowers of roses on the hill,
And all the summer there with bird and bee
Shall joy feast in the beauty of our love!'
Thus do they chant the wintry time away
In hill and vale, the two who look to when
The warmth of beauty takes life's wonder on,
And the rose of the flesh shall bloom for them.
poem by Robert Crawford
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You Were A Star (But Fallen From Grace)
each time i looked
so humbly at your darling face
i could see the shine in your eyes
the smile, the joy, the wise
the heart of likeness
but all left mine unknown to none
faded away all at once
and never saw you shine again
but, you were a star
that sent me away at once
and faded,
if it were a star i need
i would low my speed
to see the light indeed
and stand by you as a kid
would do, my own seed
has fallen by the grains of weed
never to source me a feed
but faded,
each tree by their own stem
curing its leaves for them
to green and shade over them
without care of which worm
amongst them
has any problem
to grow and seed on them
when the rain starts to fall on them
but still faded,
each moment has a memory
and each memory has a story
from each story, have said sorry
and please don't worry
but why would i worry
when all merry shall mellow
and all scary shall let go
and still faded,
to reveal is to declare
to feel the will is to dare
awe is never than stare
a science of love and care
but why dare
today
and run without say
whence all shine has gone there
and downed the star that was there
and faded away...never to shine there
but you were a star
fallen from grace
yet gone by the dark
each time i looked into yours
a star i could see
any man could reckon with
but now you are never a star
but that which fell from grace
that day you were, a star!
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Amazing Grace
Amazing Grace How Sweet The Sound
That Saved A Wretch Like Me
I Once Was Lost But Now I'm Found
Was Blind But Now I See
'twas Grace That Taught My Heart To Feel
And Grace My Fears Relieved
How Precious Did That Grace Appear
The Hour I First Believed
When We've Been There Ten Thousand Years
Bright Shining As The Sun
We've No Less Days To Sing God's Praise
Then When We First Begun
Amazing Grace How Sweet The Sound
That Saved A Wretch Like Me
I Once Was Lost But Now I'm Found
Was Blind But Now I See
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes from You Light Up My Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sappho To Her Girlfriends
Fragments 34, 77, 76, 61, 71, 48, 86, 83, 47, 129, and 32 combined.
This is my song of maidens dear to me.
Eranna, a slight girl I counted thee,
When first I looked upon thy form and face,
Slim as a reed, and all devoid of grace.
But stately stature, grace and beauty came
Unto thee with the years — O, dost not shame
For this, Eranna, that thy pride hath grown
Therewith? Alas for thee ! I have not known
One beauty ever of more scornful mien,
As though thou wert of all earth's daughters queen!
Mnasidica is comelier, perchance,
Than my Gyrinna — ah, but sweetly rings
Gyrinna's matchless voice ! In rapture-trance
I listen, listen, while Gyrinna sings.
Hero of Gyara is fleet of foot
As fawns, and as light-footed in the dance,
The dance taught by the measures of my lute.
Ever-impassioned Gorgo! — is it strange
That I grow weary of the change on change
Of thine adored ones? — of thy rhapsodies
O'er each new girlfriend, while the old love dies?
Joy to thee, daughter of a princely race,
For thy last dear one! Lie in her embrace —
Till shines a new star on thy raptured eyes!
Fonder of maids thou art, I trow, than she.
The ghost who nightly steal young girls, to be
In Hades of her woeful company.
This is my fair girl-garden: sweet they grow —
Rose, violet, asphodel and lily's snow;
And which the sweetest is, I do not know;
For rosy arms and starry eyes are there.
Honey-sweet voices and cheeks passing fair.
And these shall men, I ween, remember long;
For these shall bloom for ever in my song.
An Old Sweetheart Of Mine
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone,
And muses on the faces of the friends that he has known,
So I turn the leaves of Fancy, till in shadowy design
I find the smiling features of an old sweetheart of mine.
The lamplight seems to glimmer with a flicker of surprise,
As I turn it low, to rest me of the dazzle in my eyes,
And light my pipe in silence, save a sigh that seems to yoke
Its fate with my tobacco, and to vanish with the smoke.
'Tis a fragrant retrospection, for the loving thoughts that start
Into being are like perfumes from the blossom of the heart;
And to dream the old dreams over is a luxury divine—
When my truant fancies wander with that old sweetheart of mine.
Though I hear, beneath my study, like a fluttering of wings,
The voices of my children and the mother as she sings,
I feel no twinge of conscience to deny me any theme
When Care has cast her anchor in the harbor of a dream.
In fact, to speak in earnest, I believe it adds a charm
To spice the good a trifle with a little dust of harm;
For I find an extra flavor in Memory's mellow wine
That makes me drink the deeper to that old sweetheart of mine.
A face of lily-beauty, with a form of airy grace,
Floats out of my tobacco as the genii from the vase;
And I thrill beneath the glances of a pair of azure eyes,
As glowing as the summer and as tender as the skies.
I can see the pink sunbonnet and the little checkered dress
She wore when first I kissed her, and she answered the caress
With the written declaration that, 'as surely as the vine
Grew round the stump,' she loved me,—that old sweetheart of mine!
And again I feel the pressure of her slender little hand,
As we used to talk together of the future we had planned:
When I should be a poet, and with nothing else to do
But write the tender verses that she set the music to;
When we should live together in a cozy little cot,
Hid in a nest of roses, with a fairy garden-spot,
Where the vines were ever fruited, and the weather ever fine,
And the birds were ever singing for that old sweetheart of mine;
And I should be her lover forever and a day,
And she my faithful sweetheart till the golden hair was gray;
And we should be so happy that when either's lips were dumb
They would not smile in heaven till the other's kiss had come.
But ah! my dream is broken by a step upon the stair,
And the door is softly opened, and my wife is standing there!
Yet with eagerness and rapture all my visions I resign
To greet the living presence of that old sweetheart of mine.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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A Valentine
Fear not that I shall tell the world,
O lady mine, how sweet thou art,
Fear not that others so shall gain
The secret of my heart;
For though my lips should carol praise
From night till morn, from morn till eve,
Thy loveliness, O lady mine,
Who had not known could not believe!
To praise the rose is not to paint
Its perfume, in the air afloat;
No words can voice the violet,
Or trill the throstle's note;
Nor may I fondly hope in song
Thy mystic graces to impart,—
Who hath not known thee, lady mine,
Will never dream how sweet thou art!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Grace, 'Tis a Charming Sound
Grace, ’tis a charming sound,
Harmonious to mine ear;
Heaven with the echo shall resound,
And all the earth shall hear.
Grace first contrived the way
To save rebellious man;
And all the steps that grace display
Which drew the wondrous plan.
Grace first inscribed my name
In God’s eternal book;
’Twas grace that gave me to the Lamb,
Who all my sorrows took.
Grace led my roving feet
To tread the heavenly road;
And new supplies each hour I meet,
While pressing on to God.
Grace taught my soul to pray
And made mine eyes o’erflow;
’Twas grace which kept me to this day,
And will not let me go.
Grace all the work shall crown,
Through everlasting days;
It lays in heaven the topmost stone,
And well deserves the praise.
O let Thy grace inspire
My soul with strength divine
My all my powers to Thee aspire,
And all my days be Thine.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Yet By Grace
I’ve experienced a lot of grace, while on earth I’ve run my race,
This race on earth, we call life, while being led by Jesus Christ;
The Grace of God, so undeserved, yet by grace I have served,
The Eternal God and Creator, when by Grace, I met The Savior.
God’s Grace I had never known, while Truth I was never shown,
Bible Truths from God of Eternity, yet by Grace, He saved me;
It was God Who loved me first, while an unbeliever at my worst,
Deceived, lost and totally depraved, yet by Grace, I was saved.
After cleansing me of my sin, His Grace to me would just begin,
As I began this life brand new, God’s Grace did see me through;
Starting life on the narrow way, with God leading me day to day,
His Grace was apparent in my life, guided by the Spirit of Christ.
The grace God had granted to me, in a weary world set me free,
Freed from the anxieties of life, in a world that’s filled with strife,
And as I live my life day to day, His Grace given, is here to stay,
To quiet all that anxiety and fear, as life’s troubles do draw near.
His Grace is there at every bend, being all sufficient with no end,
Especially in the darkest of time, surely dispersed by His design,
Grace that brings comfort and light, while in that darkest of night,
Along come trial’s gloomy rays, yet His Grace comforts my days.
(Copyright ©12/2011)