The Wedding Sermon
'Now, while she's changing,' said the Dean,
'Her bridal for her traveling dress,
I'll preach allegiance to your queen!
Preaching's the thing which I profess;
And one more minute's mine! You know
I've paid my girl a father's debt,
And this last charge is all I owe.
She's yours; but I love more than yet
You can; such fondness only wakes
When time has raised the heart above
The prejudice of youth, which makes
Beauty conditional to love.
Prepare to meet the weak alarms
Of novel nearness; recollect
The eye which magnifies her charms
Is microscopic for defect.
Fear comes at first; but soon, rejoiced,
You'll find your strong and tender loves,
Like holy rocks by Druids poised,
The least force shakes, but none removes.
Her strength is your esteem; beware
Of finding fault; her will's unnerved
By blame; from you 'twould be despair;
But praise that is not quite deserved
Will all her noble nature move
To make your utmost wishes true.
Yet think, while mending thus your Love,
Of matching her ideal too!
The death of nuptial joy is sloth;
To keep your mistress in your wife,
Keep to the very height your oath,
And honor her with arduous life.
Lastly, no personal reverence doff.
Life's all externals unto those
Who pluck the blushing petals off,
To find the secret of the rose. -
How long she's tarrying! Green's Hotel
I'm sure you'll like. The charge is fair,
The wines good. I remember well
I stayed once, with her mother, there.
A tender conscience of her vow
That mother had! She's so like her!'
But Mrs. Fife, much flurried, now
Whispered, 'Miss Honor's ready, sir.'
poem by Coventry Patmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto XI.
Preludes.
I Platonic Love
Right art thou who wouldst rather be
A doorkeeper in Love's fair house,
Than lead the wretched revelry
Where fools at swinish troughs carouse.
But do not boast of being least;
And if to kiss thy Mistress' skirt
Amaze thy brain, scorn not the Priest
Whom greater honours do not hurt.
Stand off and gaze, if more than this
Be more than thou canst understand,
Revering him whose power of bliss,
Angelic, dares to seize her hand,
Or whose seraphic love makes flight
To the apprehension of her lips;
And think, the sun of such delight
From thine own darkness takes eclipse.
And, wouldst thou to the same aspire,
This is the art thou must employ,
Live greatly; so shalt thou acquire
Unknown capacities of joy.
II A Demonstration
Nature, with endless being rife,
Parts each thing into ‘him’ and ‘her,’
And, in the arithmetic of life,
The smallest unit is a pair;
And thus, oh, strange, sweet half of me,
If I confess a loftier flame,
If more I love high Heaven than thee,
I more than love thee, thee I am;
And, if the world's not built of lies,
Nor all a cheat the Gospel tells,
If that which from the dead shall rise
Be I indeed, not something else,
There's no position more secure
In reason or in faith than this,
That those conditions must endure,
Which, wanting, I myself should miss.
III The Symbol
As if I chafed the sparks from glass,
And said, ‘It lightens,’ hitherto
The songs I've made of love may pass
For all but for proportion true;
But likeness and proportion both
Now fail, as if a child in glee,
Catching the flakes of the salt froth,
Cried, ‘Look, my mother, here's the sea.’
Yet, by the help of what's so weak,
But not diverse, to those who know,
And only unto those I speak,
May far-inferring fancy show
Love's living sea by coasts uncurb'd,
Its depth, its mystery, and its might,
Its indignation if disturb'd,
The glittering peace of its delight.
IV Constancy rewarded
I vow'd unvarying faith, and she,
To whom in full I pay that vow,
Rewards me with variety
Which men who change can never know.
The Wedding.
I
Life smitten with a feverish chill,
The brain too tired to understand,
In apathy of heart and will,
I took the woman from the hand
Of him who stood for God, and heard
Of Christ, and of the Church his Bride;
The Feast, by presence of the Lord
And his first Wonder, beautified;
The mystic sense to Christian men;
The bonds in innocency made,
And gravely to be enter'd then
For children, godliness, and aid,
And honour'd, and kept free from smirch;
And how a man must love his wife
No less than Christ did love His Church,
If need be, giving her his life;
And, vowing then the mutual vow,
The tongue spoke, but intention slept.
'Tis well for us Heaven asks not how
We take this oath, but how 'tis kept.
II
O, bold seal of a bashful bond,
Which makes the marriage-day to be,
To those before it and beyond,
An iceberg in an Indian sea!
III
‘Now, while she's changing,’ said the Dean,
‘Her bridal for her travelling dress,
‘I'll preach allegiance to your queen!
‘Preaching's the thing which I profess;
‘And one more minute's mine! You know
‘I've paid my girl a father's debt,
‘And this last charge is all I owe.
‘She's your's; but I love more than yet
‘You can; such fondness only wakes
‘When time has raised the heart above
‘The prejudice of youth, which makes
‘Beauty conditional to love.
‘Prepare to meet the weak alarms
‘Of novel nearness: recollect
‘The eye which magnifies her charms
‘Is microscopic for defect.
‘Fear comes at first; but soon, rejoiced,
‘You'll find your strong and tender loves,
‘Like holy rocks by Druids poised,
‘The least force shakes, but none removes.
‘Her strength is your esteem; beware
‘Of finding fault; her will's unnerv'd
‘By blame; from you 'twould be despair;
‘But praise that is not quite deserv'd
‘Will all her noble nature move
‘To make your utmost wishes true.
‘Yet think, while mending thus your Love,
‘Of matching her ideal too!
‘The death of nuptial joy is sloth:
‘To keep your mistress in your wife,
‘Keep to the very height your oath,
‘And honour her with arduous life.
‘Lastly, no personal reverence doff.
‘Life's all externals unto those
‘Who pluck the blushing petals off,
‘To find the secret of the rose.—
‘How long she's tarrying! Green's Hotel
‘I'm sure you'll like. The charge is fair,
‘The wines good. I remember well
‘I stay'd once, with her Mother, there.
‘A tender conscience of her vow
‘That Mother had! She's so like her!’
But Mrs. Fife, much flurried, now
Whisper'd, ‘Miss Honor's ready, Sir.’
IV
Whirl'd off at last, for speech I sought,
To keep shy Love in countenance;
But, whilst I vainly tax'd my thought,
Her voice deliver'd mine from trance:
‘Look, is not this a pretty shawl,
‘Aunt's parting gift.’ ‘She's always kind,’
‘The new wing spoils Sir John's old Hall:
‘You'll see it, if you pull the blind.’
V
I drew the silk: in heaven the night
Was dawning; lovely Venus shone,
In languishment of tearful light,
Swathed by the red breath of the sun.
poem by Coventry Patmore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alone In This World
I'm alone in this world my heart hurt
My body is weak
I can't feel I can't sleep
My eyes are low
So is my spirit
my faith is not strong
But I hold my head high
With a fake grin
End to end
I feelings are gone
Seem like keep singing the same old song
I'm alone in this world
I wonder if anybody notice when i try
Doing my hair
Do they at least stop and stare
I hate living the life
Of no life
Of keeping a fake smile
Not going any where
This is the life of me
Sometimes I cry
Thinking that I will never find
The love of my life
Somebody ready to make me there wife
No man could love such a girl
A girl who cleans, works
Take cares of the kids
Make sure his clothes are out
And his meal is cooked
No man loves a girl like me
Raised in loving care
Raised without a gold to her name
Raised to be ready but hated by many
Because of her curves
Her beauty
Her love what man
Can love such a girl like me
Maybe I'll never find love
in this crazy world we live in
poem by Raesheka Antwine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet & Tender Hooligan
He was a sweet and tender hooligan, hooligan
And he said that hed never, never do it again
And of course he wont (oh, not until the next time)
He was a sweet and tender hooligan, hooligan
And he swore that hell never, never do it again
And of course he wont (oh, not until the next time)
Poor old man
He had an accident with a three-bar fire
But thats ok
Because he wasnt very happy anyway
Poor woman
Strangled in her very own bed as she read
But thats ok
Because she was old and she would have died anyway
Dont blame
The sweet and tender hooligan, hooligan
Because hell never, never, never, never, never, never do it again
(not until the next time)
Jury, youve heard every word
So before you decide
Would you look into those mother me eyes
I love you for you, my love, you my love
You my love, you my love
Jury, youve heard every word
But before you decide
Would you look into those mother me eyes
I love you for you my love, you my love
I love you just for you, my love
Dont blame
The sweet and tender hooligan, hooligan
Because hell never, never do it again
And ...
In the midst of life we are in death etc.
Dont forget the hooligan, hooligan
Because hell never, never do it again
And ...
In the midst of life we are in death etc.
Etc! etc! etc! etc!
In the midst of life we are in death etc!
Etc! etc! etc! etc!
In the midst of life we are in debt etc!
Just will you free me ?
Will you find me ?
Will you free me ?
Will you find me ?
Will you free me, free me, free me, free me, free me, free me, free me ?
Jury will you free me ?
Will you find me ?
Will you free me ?
Will you find me ?
How will you find me, find me, find me, find me, find me, find me, find me ?
Oh etc! etc! etc! etc! etc! etc!
Etc! etc! etc! etc!
In the midst of life we are in debt etc!
Oh ... oh ...
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Child My Choice
Let folly praise that fancy loves, I praise and love that Child
Whose heart no thought, whose tongue no word, whose hand no deed defiled.
I praise Him most, I love Him best, all praise and love is His;
While Him I love, in Him I live, and cannot live amiss.
Love's sweetest mark, laud's highest theme, man's most desired light,
To love Him life, to leave Him death, to live in Him delight.
He mine by gift, I His by debt, thus each to other due;
First friend He was, best friend He is, all times will try Him true.
Though young, yet wise; though small, yet strong; though man, yet God He is:
As wise, He knows; as strong, He can; as God, He loves to bless.
His knowledge rules, His strength defends, His love doth cherish all;
His birth our joy, His life our light, His death our end of thrall.
Alas! He weeps, He sighs, He pants, yet do His angels sing;
Out of His tears, His sighs and throbs, doth bud a joyful spring.
Almighty Babe, whose tender arms can force all foes to fly,
Correct my faults, protect my life, direct me when I die!
poem by Robert Southwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet And Tender Hooligan (Live)
He was a sweet and tender hooligan, hooligan
And he said that he'd never, never do it again
And of course he won't (oh, not until the next time)
He was a sweet and tender hooligan, hooligan
And he swore that he'll never, never do it again
And of course he won't (oh, not until the next time)
Poor old man
He had an accident with a three-bar fire
But that's OK
Because he wasn't very happy anyway
Poor woman
Strangled in her very own bed as she read
But that's OK
Because she was old and she would have died anyway
DON'T BLAME
The sweet and tender hooligan, hooligan
Because he'll never, never, never, never, never, never do it again
(not until the next time)
Jury, you've heard every word
So before you decide
Would you look into those Mother-me eyes
I love you for you, my love, you my love
You my love, you my love
Jury, you've heard every word
But before you decide
Would you look into those Mother-me eyes
I love you for you my love, you my love
I love you just for you, my love
Don't blame
The sweet and tender hooligan, hooligan
Because he'll never, never do it again
And ...
In the midst of life we are in death ETC.
Forget the hooligan, hooligan
Because he'll never, never do it again
And ...
In the midst of life we are in debt ETC.
ETC! ETC! ETC! ETC!
IN THE MIDST OF LIFE WE ARE IN DEATH ETC!
ETC! ETC! ETC! ETC!
IN THE MIDST OF LIFE WE ARE IN DEBT ETC!
Just ...
Just ...
ETC! ETC! ETC! ETC! ETC! ETC!
ETC! ETC! ETC! ETC!
IN THE MIDST OF LIFE WE ARE IN DEBT ETC
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mother Gazes Upon Her Daughter
Is she not lovely! Oh! when, long ago,
My own dead mother gazed upon my face,
As I stood blushing near in bridal snow,
I had not half her beauty and her grace.
Yet that fond mother praised, the world caressed,
And ONE adored me -- how shall HE who soon
Shall wear my gentle flower upon his breast,
Prize to its utmost worth the priceless boon?
Shall he not gird her, guard her, make her rich,
(Not as the world is rich, in outward show,)
With all the love and watchful kindness which
A wise and tender manhood may bestow?
Oh! I shall part from her with many tears,
My earthly treasure, pure and undefiled!
And not without a weight of anxious fears
For the new future of my darling child.
And yet -- for well I know that virgin heart --
No wifely duty will she leave undone;
Nor will her love neglect that woman's art
Which courts and keeps a love already won.
In no light girlish levity she goes
Unto the altar where they wait her now,
But with a thoughtful, prayerful heart that knows
The solemn purport of a marriage vow.
And she will keep, with all her soul's deep truth,
The lightest pledge which binds her love and life;
And she will be -- no less in age than youth
My noble child will be -- a noble wife.
And he, her lover! husband! what of him?
Yes, he will shield, I think, my bud from blight!
Yet griefs will come -- enough! my eyes are dim
With tears I must not shed -- at least, to-night.
Bless thee, my daughter! -- Oh! she is so fair! --
Heaven bend above thee with its starriest skies!
And make thee truly all thou dost appear
Unto a lover's and thy mother's eyes!
poem by Henry Timrod
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kiss Me Not
I am waiting for the one,
Whom God had in mind
Before I breathed,
To share in the covenent of marraige,
Of true love and holy matrimony.
This man, pray he be worthy,
Of such a woman as me-
For my price is far above rubies.
I am the apple of God's eye.
My heart is hidden in Christ-
He shall have to seek Him first,
In order to find me.
I am an eternal princess,
For my Father is the King of kings,
And that makes me royalty
Marrage is a sacred deed,
Meant only for one man,
And one woman, to share for life.
It is a beautiful peice of God's Art,
And that is why,
When two are married,
They are pronounced 'man, and wife',
And promise each other,
'Not until death, do us part.'
By taking the leap into marriage,
I am giving my fiance' my heart.
May he respect it wholly,
And treat it with tender love,
May he keep it to his final breathe,
Until our marraige would end in the kiss of death.
Pray I be ready,
For such a time as that.
May my body remain pure,
For it is the Temple of God-
May my Heart be as that of Christ,
For I shall promise it to my Love for life.
May no one touch me,
Till the time is right,
May this rose be not picked,
Until in full bloom-
For I am a rose of tender years,
In this life, hardly begun.
I am maturing in God's sight,
And flourishing under,
The protection of Christ, God's Son.
When the time has come,
And I have found the one,
With whom God has destined me to be,
May I present him with an unscathed rose,
Not withered by others, and the petals not tossed about.
May my heart be ready for so deep a committment,
And my mind be clear,
To love him from the inside, out.
So this be my promise,
And this be my vow -
That I shall remain planted here
Where God has placed me,
Until that special someone comes,
And picks this yelow rose of friendship out.
But alas!
If this promised prize
Be kept until sought-
Then be warned,
Kiss me not!
poem by Macy Dvirnak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stanzas: A Mother Gazes Upon Her Daughter, Arrayed For An Approaching Bridal.
Written in Illustration of a Tableau Vivant
Is she not lovely! Oh! when, long ago,
My own dead mother gazed upon my face,
As I stood blushing near in bridal snow,
I had not half her beauty and her grace.
Yet that fond mother praised, the world caressed,
And ONE adored me -- how shall HE who soon
Shall wear my gentle flower upon his breast,
Prize to its utmost worth the priceless boon?
Shall he not gird her, guard her, make her rich,
(Not as the world is rich, in outward show,)
With all the love and watchful kindness which
A wise and tender manhood may bestow?
Oh! I shall part from her with many tears,
My earthly treasure, pure and undefiled!
And not without a weight of anxious fears
For the new future of my darling child.
And yet -- for well I know that virgin heart --
No wifely duty will she leave undone;
Nor will her love neglect that woman's art
Which courts and keeps a love already won.
In no light girlish levity she goes
Unto the altar where they wait her now,
But with a thoughtful, prayerful heart that knows
The solemn purport of a marriage vow.
And she will keep, with all her soul's deep truth,
The lightest pledge which binds her love and life;
And she will be -- no less in age than youth
My noble child will be -- a noble wife.
And he, her lover! husband! what of him?
Yes, he will shield, I think, my bud from blight!
Yet griefs will come -- enough! my eyes are dim
With tears I must not shed -- at least, to-night.
Bless thee, my daughter! -- Oh! she is so fair! --
Heaven bend above thee with its starriest skies!
And make thee truly all thou dost appear
Unto a lover's and thy mother's eyes!
poem by Henry Timrod
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sweet And Tender Hooligan
he was a sweet and tender hooligan
and he swore that he'd never, never do it again
and of course he won't (not until the next time)
poor old man
he had an "accident" with a three bar fire
but that's OK
because he wasn't very happy anyway
poor woman
strangled in her very own bed as she read
but that's OK
because she was old and she would have died anyway
DON"T BLAME
this sweet and tender hooligan
because he'll never, never do it again
(at least not until the next time)
So jury you've heard every world
but before you decide
would you look into those "Mother-me" eyes
I love life for you my love, you my love
you my love, you my love
So jury you've heard ever word
but before you decide
would you look into those "Mother-me" eyes
I love you for you my love, you my love
I love you just for you my love, you my love
don't blame
the sweet and tender hooligan
who claims that
"In the midst of life we are in debt ETC"
ETC! ETC! ETC! ETC!
IN THE MIDST OF LIFE WE ARE IN DEBT ETC
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-1)
At schooltime, my father left me at house gringo!
Yet I Kept my tender heart at home of lingo!
When I quested, for fate “he is right as rain.”
Tender tears exploded like MISSILES yet in vein;
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
While I missed mother’s love and father’s stories
All the night I stood without sleep with many worries
I asked the god, why two legs and hands!
Why not two bodies and two souls for errands!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Sugarcane Juice, peanuts and berries!
Our green fields, summer holidays and holy tours!
When thousand memories flashes in mind, now,
How much I miss mom's care! How much I miss dad’s love!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
The small buns you bought for me still smell good,
The grapes brought, coming from city is still my favorite food;
The fruits you brought me with roots; are they heaven sent?
Yet I didn’t pay any rent pay as you are my parent!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
Do you know who my MAHATMA is? Oh, my brother!
He is not Mandela, nor Gandhi but my father
Who taught me A to Z rather?
What to do and what not to do, I gather!
Mother, oh mother, I am still your little son!
Father, Oh father, I love thee till I am done!
When I think of all the things you gave to me:
Your sacrifices in food; love and affection are some to name,
............................................. ................................................. .....
*A big NOTICE BOARD: Oops! Sorry the poem is NOT completed. This is just break time! Now continue Your reading in part 2 the poem.
Oh, FATHER! - FEEL MY Untold LOVE! (Part-2) contin'd in part 2.. Read it.
poem by Harindhar Reddy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Roni
The truth about a roni, shes a sweet little girl.
You can treat her right, real nice, and hold her tight.
Only tender ronies can give a special love
A special kind of love that makes you feel good inside.
If you believe in love and all that it can do for you
Give it a chance, girl, youll find romance.
And if you find a tender roni that is right for you
Make it official. give her your love.
My heart belongs to tender roni, shes my only love. shes my only love.
My only heart, baby. my heart belongs to tender roni. shes my only love.
Shes my only love.
The truth about a roni, shes always on the phone
Talking to her homeboy, wishing they were home alone.
She sends you lovely letters with the smell of sweet perfume.
This is what a real tender roni likes to do for you.
And if you believe in love and all that it can do for you,
Give it a chance, girl, youll find romance.
And if you find a tender roni that is right for you
Make it official. give her your love, oh yeah.
My heart belongs to tender roni. shes my only love. shes my only love.
My only heart. my heart belongs to tender roni. shes my only love.
Shes my only love.
The truth about a roni, shes a sweet old girl
About the sweetest little girl in the whole wide world.
Shed make the toughest homeboy fall deep in love-
Said once youve had a roni, you would never give her up
Shes a special kind of girl that makes her daddy feel proud.
You know, the kind of girl that stands out in crowds.
Found a tender roni and the roni is so right.
I think Im gonna love her for the rest of my life.
And if you believe in love and all that it can do for you.
And if you ffind a tender roni thta is right for you.
Make it official. giver her your love, oh yeah.
My heart belongs to tender roni. shes my only lover. shes my only love.
My heart, oh yeah. my heart belongs to tender roni. shes my only love.
Shes my only love.
{fade--}
song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Real mother
Who else can be better?
Than the real mother
Thousands of words may fail to describe
She remains at heart fully inscribed
It is lovely to dream about her and honor
She has spent complete life for minors
What else she might be in her mind?
She may struggle later for us to find
We may have our own family
All her tales may look silly
We may pay little or no attention
She may never mind or make mention
That is her asset and greatness
That glory and brightness is seen on face
Who on earth and heaven can compete with her?
Even if something is to be offered then offer only prayer
No amount of compensation can pay her debt
Her honor and pride is higher and always kept
What we all did to her is mater of shame
No use when later on you realize and blame
She won’t come back from heaven to look after
All her greatness may be realized later
In poverty or richness she is all the same
No one knows where from the divinity came?
Even great souls have prayed and showered the roses
Touched the feet and offers emotional kisses
What all these gestures show or speak
Her position is supreme and not weak
I will certainly bow my head to her greatness
No creature on earth deserves honor and praise
Oh, mother you are sacred than all on earth
You are remembered life long even after death
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother To Mother
Mother to daughter, mother to mother
A greater love, there is no other.
You looked towards me for your guidance and my love
But this was given to both of us
From the lord up above.
I protected and sheltered you the best that I could.
And you followed the same road that we all take
We did not stop or hesitate.
A mother is not one who just gives birth
But one who shows her worth.
I was her mother, she was my daughter
Everything according to GODS order.
I raised mine, she raised her own.
But the love we had was always shown.
She was like the sun bringing light into this world
For she was my little girl.
She was like the sun radiating beauty from
The inside out, of that I have no doubt.
As the sun brings a smile to your face
And leaves you with a glow inside.
She could do this, and that’s no lie.
She created life, and loved them with such tender care
And the joys and sorrows, with them she’d share.
She loved and honored her children in every way she could
And raised them the way a mother should.
She was closer to me, more than anyone could ever know
And put in me a strength that would grow.
When it was the time for the LORD to take her away
And I’m sure that she wanted to stay.
She gave her soul to our lord above
But left us with an enduring love.
So to my daughter I say to you, I loved you at your birth
And I loved you till the end, for you was
not only my daughter, but my friend.
mother to mother, I thank you with all my heart and soul
For you left me with beautiful children for me to hold.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Mom
My Mom was like a perfect rose at springtime,
Pure and beautiful, and the petals perfectly formed,
And it's fragrance sweet and pleasing to the senses.
For the rose, as my mom, came into this world as a thing of beauty.
As time passed, the winds came into my mother's life,
For as life brings the rose, it also brings the winds.
The wind blows the petals off the rose and it is no longer new
And struggles through the wind to regain its strength and beauty.
Because the rose by God's design is a thing of splendor,
The petals grow back as the winds die down,
As did my mother, for her spirit was strong,
And she lived her life with a love that had no boundaries.
My Mom fought many winds with grace and strength,
Always with a smile and never to bring sadness to anyone,
For she could not bear to see anyone cry,
She was too full of love and life to let the wind touch her spirit.
Mom was my perfect rose; beautiful, warm, loving, and sweet.
She is safe from the winds now and lives in Heaven.
She will live on in my heart always,
And ease the strong wind that weakens me.
Someday the wind will be only a gentle breeze upon my face,
And I will know that she lives on in me forever.
I will know that my Mom is still with me,
Still beautiful and strong and loving.
She is safe now and so much stronger than the winds
The she so courageously endured.
And in that she taught me to believe, have faith, and to know
That I have the strength to endure the winds of my own sorrow.
I love you Mom, you are forever in my heart - you are forever.
poem by Sally DeSmet Trueblood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Honor Our Father! ! !
I remember when I was young,
My New Life with Christ, Just begun,
I became Born-again!
I'll Never forget that day,
When Jesus came in my heart, To Stay!
He's been guiding me all this way,
One day I asked Him'Father, What should I do?
My earthly Dad, wants to be called father too
I know Your Word says, Call No man Father
On Earth, But Only Our Father in Heaven,
You're The Father -of us all, This is True! ! !
Father replied'My Child, You don't understand
'I AM' 'Your Holy Father'
Your earthly father is a Human, man
But You are to Honor Your Father and Mother,
Because that's one of My Commands,
By Honoring them, You also Honor Me!
I appointed Your Parents, to guide You to see,
Jesus! Through Him, You've come to me,
'I AM' The Holy Father, I give Eternal Life!
poem by Patricia Martin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Find Another Girl
Find yourself another girl who will love you true true true.
Find yourself another girl save all her love and kisses just for you [x2]
The very first time I fell in love got my heart broken then people would say when I passed their way
"Theres a hot young man going there going there"
"An unhappy lad going there."
Well one day my mother called me to here side said son "why you so blue".
"Mother I lost the girl that I love why wont you tell me what to do"
Mother wont you tell me what to do?
Well she said find yourself another girl who will love you true true true find yourself another girl.
Save all her love and kisses just for you [x2]
I can imagine how you feel my son but throw it out of your mind I'm gonna tell kinda truthfully
True love is hard to find sometimes its kinda hard to find.
But forget about that girl that broke your heart and try start a new
For if there was a guy for her theres got to be a girl somewhere for you [x2]
You just go on and find yourself another girl who will love you true true true.
Find yourself another girl save all her love and kisses just for you [x2]
Save all her love for no one but you. Ohh another love [x3]
Save her love and kissses just for you.
song performed by by The Hives from Veni Vidi Vicious
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode XV: On Domestic Manners (Unfinished)
I.
Meek honor, female shame,
O! whither, sweetest offspring of the sky,
From Albion dost thou fly;
Of Albion's daughters once the favorite fame?
O beauty's only friend,
Who giv'st her pleasing reverence to inspire;
Who selfish, bold desire
Dost to esteem and dear affection turn;
Alas, of thee forlorn
What joy, what praise, what hope can life pretend?
II.
Behold; our youths in vain
Concerning nuptial happiness inquire:
Our maids no more aspire
The arts of bashful Hymen to attain;
But with triumphant eyes
And cheeks impassive, as they move along,
Ask homage of the throng.
The lover swears that in a harlot's arms
Are found the self-same charms,
And worthless and deserted lives and dies.
III.
Behold; unbless'd at home,
The father of the cheerless household mourns:
The night in vain returns,
For love and glad content at distance roam;
While she, in whom his mind
Seeks refuge from the day's dull task of cares,
To meet him she prepares,
Through noise and spleen and all the gamester's art,
A listless, harrass'd heart,
Where not one tender thought can welcome find.
IV.
'Twas thus, along the shore
Of Thames, Britannia's guardian Genius heard,
From many a tongue preferr'd,
Of strife and grief the fond invective lore:
At which the queen divine
Indignant, with her adamantine spear
Like thunder sounding near,
Smote the red cross upon her silver shield,
And thus her wrath reveal'd.
(I watch'd her awful words and made them mine.)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
poem by Mark Akenside
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Me Tender
(words & music by vera matson - elvis presley)
Love me tender,
Love me sweet,
Never let me go.
You have made my life complete,
And I love you so.
Love me tender,
Love me true,
All my dreams fulfilled.
For my darlin I love you,
And I always will.
Love me tender,
Love me long,
Take me to your heart.
For its there that I belong,
And well never part.
Love me tender,
Love me dear,
Tell me you are mine.
Ill be yours through all the years,
Till the end of time.
(when at last my dreams come true
Darling this I know
Happiness will follow you
Everywhere you go).
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart Of The Rose
(graham russell)
A long time ago, from the valley of the sun
Came the holy power,
When the gods were one
Searching for a new home,
Searching for this land
Guided by the stars, and a vision they had seen
The pillars of the temple,
In these hills of green
Buried deep inside for only us to find
(chorus)
It is the roar of the wind,
The power of the sun
The strength of a thousand bows
And those who near it again, will fear it again
And its here in the heart of the rose
Painted in the sky was the moment to awake
All that lay within you,
As this dawn should break
With this force awoken, none can stand before
This is the hour, now is the time
Driven by the purest love, I give you mine
All that we must be, is everything we see
(chorus)
Our love, has brought us both together
And its our love that will go on forever
There is no love that can become as one
Before its time
(chorus)
It is the trees in the earth,
It is the rivers that run
And through us this secret flows
And now our destiny calls,
Youll remember it all
Our love for the heart of the rose
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tender Only To One
Tender only to one
Tender and true
The petals swing
To my fingering
Is it you, or you, or you?
Tender only to one
I do not know his name
And the friends who fall
To the petals’ call
May think my love to blame.
Tender only to one
This petal holds a clue
The face it shows
But too well knows
Who I am tender to.
Tender only to one,
Last petal’s latest breath
Cries out aloud
From the icy shroud
His name, his name is Death.
poem by Stevie Smith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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