Requiem
NOW veiled in the inviolable past
Love lies asleep, who never more will wake;
Nor would you wake him, even for my sake
Who for your sake pray he sleep sound at last.
What good thing had we of him--we who bore
So long his yoke? what pleasant thing had we
That we should weep his deathlong sleep to see,
Or call on Life to waken him once more?
A little joy he gave, and much of pain,
A little pleasure, and enduring grief,
One flower of joy, and pain piled sheaf on sheaf,
Harvests of loss, for every bud of gain.
Yet where he lies in this deserted place
Divided by his narrow grave we sit,
Welded together by the depths of it,
Watching the years pass, with averted face.
We do not mourn for him, for here is peace;
The old unrest frets not these empty years;
With him went smiles a few, and many tears,
And peace is sweeter far than those or these.
Only--we owe him nothing. If he gave,
We too gave gifts--his gifts were less than ours:
We gave the world, that held so many flowers
For this--the world that only holds his grave.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Related quotes
Gods Peace
The world is full of hurt.
Everyone has a little dirt.
Anyone can stop the hurt.
Bye rubbing off all the dirt.
And to stop the grief.
And war.
Then slam the door to all the evil.
We shall not let the devil tempt us no more.
And lead him out the door.
Then let God in.
With a warm greeting and smile.
Then he gives you this wonderful thing.
It’s called peace.
He gave us peace.
So we can cease all the evil and war.
He doesn’t like all the violence this world holds.
That is another reason he gave us peace.
He gives us peace when things are depressing.
He gives us peace when times are hard.
He gives us peace when a person who is close to you passes away.
When you pray he gives you peace.
When things are quiet he gives you peace.
He also gives you peace when the devil is tempting you.
So that you get strong and say no to his offer.
When you say no to his offer.
You will know you did the right thing.
Then you will be glad.
He gave you peace.
poem by Devyn Zielanski
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True Love
Put myself aside.
For the sake of another.
The one I call friend.
The one I call lover.
My jaded past.
And The hurt that I gave.
The pain she endured.
My emotional slave.
I have learned a new way.
I see through new eyes.
I want to bring joy.
Into both of our lives.
He will come first.
With her right behind.
What once was all selfish.
Now loving and kind.
It's not about envy.
I've nothing to boast.
The One I gave the least.
He gave me the most.
He got rid of my pride.
Now her heart I can see.
He showed me that you.
Should come before me.
All my past angers.
They've just about ceased.
His mercy and grace.
Has given me peace.
I cannot explain.
The joy that He brings.
By loving another.
And not loving things.
The gifts that He shared.
He gave when I sought.
Is now a reality,
And no longer a thought.
I thought in my mind,
It couldn't be real.
Thank you Lord Jesus.
For what I now feel.
What's true and what's right.
What's noble and just.
I give You my heart.
I give You my trust.
The one who I love.
My friend who is true.
I will give to no other.
But I give her to You.
You made my heart soft.
She made my heart melt.
You've shown me a love.
I never had felt.
Your love is the truth.
My love was just lies.
I give thanks that you showed me,
My wife through Your eyes.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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A Prayer For The King's Majesty
22nd January, 1901.
THE Queen is dead. God save the King,
In this his hour of grief,
When sorrow gathers memories in a sheaf
To lay them on his shoulders as he stands
Inheriting her glories and her lands--
First gain of his at which his Mother's voice
Has not been first to bless and to rejoice--
A man, set lonely between gain and loss.
(O words of love the heart remembereth,
O mighty loss outweighing every gain!)
A Son whose kingdom Death's arm lies across,
A King whose Mother lies alone with Death
Wrapped in the folds of white implacable sleep.
O God, who seest the tears Thy children weep,
O God, who countest each sad heart-beat, see
How our King needs the grace we ask of Thee!
Thou knowest how little and how vain a thing
Is Empire, when the heart is sick with pain--
God, save the King!
The Queen is dead. The splendour of her days,
The sorrow of them both alike merge now
In the new aureole that lights her brow.
The clamour of her people's voice in praise
Must hush itself to the still voice that prays
In the holy chamber of Death. Tread softly here,
A mighty Queen lies dead.
Her people's heart wears black,
The black bells toll unceasing in their ear,
And on the gold sun's track
The great world round
Like a black ring the voice of mourning goes,
Till even our ancient foes
With eyes downbent, and brotherly bared head,
Keep mourning watch with us. This is the hour
When Love lends all his power
To speed grief's arrows from the bow of Death,
When sighs are idle breath,
When tears are fountains vain.
She will not wake again,
Not now, not here.
O great and good and infinitely dear,
O Mother of your people, sleep is sweet,
No more Life's thorny ways will wound your feet.
O Mother dear, sleep sound!
When you shall wake,
Your brows freed from the crown that made them ache
So many a time, and wear the heavenly crown,
Then, then you will look down
On us who love you, and, remembering,
The love of earth will breathe with us our prayer,
Our prayer prayed here, joined to your prayer prayed there:
Who knows what radiant answer it may bring?
'God save the King!'
The Queen is dead. God save the King!
From all ill thought and deed,
From heartless service and from selfish sway,
From treason, and the vain imagining
Of evil counsellors, and the noisome breed
Of flatterers who eat the soul away,
God save the King!
From loss and pain and tears
Such as her many years
Brought her; from battle and strife,
And the inmost hurt of life,
The wounds that no crown can heal,
No ermine robes conceal,
God save the King!
God, by our memories of his Mother's face,
By the love that makes our heart her dwelling-place,
Grant to our sorrow this desired grace:
God save the King!
* * * * * * * * *
The Queen is dead. God save the King.
This is no hour when joy has leave to sing;
Only, amid our tears, we are bold to pray,
More boldly, in that we pray sorrowing,
In this most sorrowful day.
God, who wast of a mortal Mother born,
Who driest the tears with which Thy children mourn,
God, save the King!
Look down on him whose crown is wet with tears
In which its splendour fades and disappears--
His tears, our tears, tears out of all her lands.
The Queen is dead.
God! strengthen the King's hands!
God, save the King!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Peace & Love
Peace and love, flying so high
Peace and love, too young to die
Peace and love, now you decide
Stay for the children
You dont really want to go
Cant feel it pulling like you did, peace and love...
Peace and love, only a ride
Strength is gone, dying inside
Tell me now, what did you find?
Found love in the people
Livin in a sacred land
Found love in the people, peace and love...
Found love...saw my mistake...broke walls of pain to walk again...
I saw the dream, I saw the wake...we shared it all but not the take...
Peace and love, lennons goodbye
Over now, living in time
A broken bell, a nursery rhyme
Deserted by heroes
Strangers in your own land
No way to deny you, to deny you...peace and love...
I took the oath till I had most
I took whats left, I gave it breath
I had it all once I gave it back...gave it back...
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Letter to My Lover After Seven Years
You gave me the child
that seamed my belly
& stitched up my life.
You gave me: one book of love poems,
five years of peace
& two of pain.
You gave me darkness, light, laughter
& the certain knowledge
that we someday die.
You gave me seven years
during which the cells of my body
died & were reborn.
Now we have died
into the limbo of lost loves,
that wreckage of memories
tarnishing with time,
that litany of losses
which grows longer with the years,
as more of our friends
descend underground
& the list of our loved dead
outstrips the list of the living.
Knowing as we do
our certain doom,
knowing as we do
the rarity of the gifts we gave
& received,
can we redeem
our love from the limbo,
dust it off like a fine sea trunk
found in an attic
& now more valuable
for its age & rarity
than a shining new one?
Probably not.
This page is spattered
with tears that streak the words
lose, losses, limbo.
I stand on a ledge in hell
still howling for our love
poem by Erica Jong
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We Gave Her A Bouquet Of Roses
We gave her a bouquet of roses to place on her baby's grave
The baby girl born alive that the doctors could not save
The birth of new born baby a time of joy and cheer
But if the new born baby die such news none wish to hear.
She has to weep her grief away and shed those painful tears
Or else the hurt will stay with her for years and years and years
To bottle up her sense of loss will only cause more pain
She has to shed her grief in tears or with her 'twill remain.
She carried her child for nine months looked to the birth with joy
But her happiness was snatched from her in the twinkling of an eye
My thoughts go to her husband too his expectations high
But tragedy visited him he watched his baby die.
What can one say at a time like this there's nothing one can say
To ease the burden of the grief that they must feel today
Nine months of expectations in a moment snatched away
But sun as ever waits to shine behind the clouds of gray.
A bouquet of flowers and sympathy card to place on baby's grave
But how can any one expect of them at such time to be brave
They have to let their feelings show and weep their grief away
For if not sorrow will live on and hurt with them will stay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Would You
If I gave you my love would you return it?
Or would you spit on it and burn it?
If I gave you my heart would you keep it safe?
Or would you break it and send it away?
If I gave you everything I had would you give me anything at all?
Or would you laugh and make me cry so much that I would fall?
If i gave you myself would i get anything back?
Or is this the last thing to take me off track?
If i didn't give anything would you give me anything first?
Or would me not giving anything make it that much worse?
If unrequited love is what this is then I'm telling you good bye.
Because I can't stand the pain that comes from all your lies.
poem by Heather Noble
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Give to Love
Love came knocking on thy door
With you in sight to love and adore
But thine did give
All that thou have and
need to live?
You gave thine lips for love to speak
You gave thine heart for love's heart's weak
You gave thine face, to love to trace
its tears across thee a sorrowful place
thou give to thy loss when it comes to love!
You gave thine soul to love's control
You gave love thy hand to hold
You gave thy feet for love to kiss
You gave thy happiness to love's bliss
You gave thy breast for love to touch
You gave thine body for love to clutch.
But what did love give thee?
Love took and took and left thee with nothing!
With nothing now you are at peace, thou art free!
This is what love did to me!
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Family, Friends and Fellowship
He gave you arms to hold me up when I am falling down
He gave you lips to cheer me up when storms are all around
He gave you songs to fill me up when words will never do
For this family, oh Father I thank you!
He gave you tears to cry with me when I am filled with grief
He gave you joy to laugh with me when I find relief
He gave you eyes to watch over me as I walk the narrow way
For this family, Father I thank you today!
Family Friends and Fellowship keep me going strong
There’s always someone by my side I know that I belong
To a family bound for glory land, I find myself at ease
’Cause this family who loves Jesus, has His peace!
He gave you tears to cry with me when I am filled with grief
He gave you joy to laugh with me when I find relief
And because you love Jesus, I can trust you to love me too!
For this family, oh, Father I thank you!
For this family, oh, Father I thank you!
poem by Marquita Lawson
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Her Memories
NOT by her grave: thither I bid them take
Fresh garlands of the flowers that pleased her best,
And lay them by the headstone, for my sake,
My token and remembrance with the rest:
But here, where in the brightening of the west
I see her mountains grow into the sky,
Her native world, and mine because of her,
Here, where that low sigh of the pinewood's stir,
That was her dearest music, fills all sound
,I am with her;
And always, always, past comes passing by,
Lost in her grave, but here as if half found.
Not by her grave: it is too still, too cold,
And save my loss is nothing with me there.
What memories have I there of her of old?
They came not there, the dear lost days that were;
Not she lies there, but only my despair;
Not she, but death and all my loneliness.
What memories save all memories love must shun?
I would not think of death and her as one;
She shall be only life-ful in my mind,
With life's self one;
A name of glad remindings and old bliss,
So something of her presence left behind.
Not by her grave: some day will I return,
When sorrow keeps its wont unvexed by place,
And, sitting on the turf beside, will learn
To call before me there her waking face,
Not that white face that slept and took no trace
Of change because I kissed it, nor for tears.
Some day; for now I should forget her so,
Lose the fair happy woman and but know
The coldness and the silence when she died,
Lose her all so,
My love that was my life of all for years.
She loved this music when the pinewoods sighed.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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The Pessimist
You that have snarled through the ages, take your answer and go -
I know your hoary question, the riddle that all men know.
You have weighed the stars in a balance, and grasped the skies in a span:
Take, if you must have answer, the word of a common man.
Deep in my life lies buried one love unhealed, unshriven,
One hunger still shall haunt me - yea, in the streets of heaven;
This is the burden, babbler, this is the curse shall cling,
This is the thing I bring you; this is the pleasant thing.
'Gainst you and all your sages, no joy of mine shall strive,
This one dead self shall shatter the men you call alive.
My grief I send to smite you, no pleasure, no belief,
Lord of the battered grievance, what do you know of grief?
I only know the praises to heaven that one man gave,
That he came on earth for an instant, to stand beside a grave,
The peace of a field of battle, where flowers are born of blood.
I only know one evil that makes the whole world good.
Beneath this single sorrow the globe of moon and sphere
Turns to a single jewel, so bright and brittle and dear
That I dread lest God should drop it, to be dashed into stars below.
You that have snarled through the ages, take your answer and go.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ghosts
YES--kiss my forehead where the pain
Is grinding outwards from my brain!
But will not pity teach you, too,
To kiss these lips no fire burns through--
These cheeks, made colourless and thin
By years you had no portion in--
These weary eyes that wake and ache
Not for your sake--not for your sake:
Kiss, child, and let your kisses see
If they can find the heart in me!
There is a heart--or used to be!
I think the pain is growing less
Under your passionless caress--
Ah! could you teach my lips to crave
But just such kisses as you gave,
And could you, treading my life's ways,
But lay these ghosts of dear dead days
That walk my world by day and night,
And bar the way of all delight--
If at your touch should waken--.. . . Vain!
From heaven itself my soul would plain:
'Give me my ghosts, my ghosts again!'
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Pause Of Thought
I looked for that which is not, nor can be,
And hope deferred made my heart sick in truth:
But years must pass before a hope of youth
Is resigned utterly.
I watched and waited with a steadfast will:
And though the object seemed to flee away
That I so longed for, ever day by day
I watched and waited still.
Sometimes I said: This thing shall be no more;
My expectation wearies and shall cease;
I will resign it now and be at peace:
Yet never gave it o'er.
Sometimes I said: It is an empty name
I long for; to a name why should I give
The peace of all the days I have to live?—
Yet gave it all the same.
Alas, thou foolish one! alike unfit
For healthy joy and salutary pain:
Thou knowest the chase useless, and again
Turnest to follow it.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Peace And Love
Peace and love
Flying so high
Peace and love
Too young to die
Peace and love
Now you decide
Stay for the children
You don't really want to go
Can't feel it pulling like you did
Peace and love
Peace and love
Only a ride
Strength is gone
Dying inside
Tell me now
What did you find
Found love in the people
Livin' in a sacred land
Found love in the people
Peace and love
[Vedder:]
Found love (found ...?)
Saw my mistake
Broke walls of pain to walk again
I saw the dream
I saw the wake
We shared it all
But not the take
Peace and love
Lennon's goodbye
Over Now
Living in time
A broken bell
A nursery rhyme
Deserted by heroes
Strangers in your own land
No way to deny you
No way to deny you
Peace and love
[Vedder:]
I took it all
I took the oath
I took it all
Til I had most
I took what's left
I gave it breath
I had it all once
I gave it back
[solo]
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Living Lost
Matron! the children of whose love,
Each to his grave, in youth have passed,
And now the mould is heaped above
The dearest and the last!
Bride! who dost wear the widow's veil
Before the wedding flowers are pale!
Ye deem the human heart endures
No deeper, bitterer grief than yours.
Yet there are pangs of keener wo,
Of which the sufferers never speak,
Nor to the world's cold pity show
The tears that scald the cheek,
Wrung from their eyelids by the shame
And guilt of those they shrink to name,
Whom once they loved, with cheerful will,
And love, though fallen and branded, still.
Weep, ye who sorrow for the dead,
Thus breaking hearts their pain relieve;
And graceful are the tears ye shed,
And honoured ye who grieve.
The praise of those who sleep in earth,
The pleasant memory of their worth,
The hope to meet when life is past,
Shall heal the tortured mind at last.
But ye, who for the living lost
That agony in secret bear,
Who shall with soothing words accost
The strength of your despair?
Grief for your sake is scorn for them
Whom ye lament and all condemn;
And o'er the world of spirits lies
A gloom from which ye turn your eyes.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Living Lost, The
Matron! the children of whose love,
Each to his grave, in youth have passed,
And now the mould is heaped above
The dearest and the last!
Bride! who dost wear the widow's veil
Before the wedding flowers are pale!
Ye deem the human heart endures
No deeper, bitterer grief than yours.
Yet there are pangs of keener wo,
Of which the sufferers never speak,
Nor to the world's cold pity show
The tears that scald the cheek,
Wrung from their eyelids by the shame
And guilt of those they shrink to name,
Whom once they loved, with cheerful will,
And love, though fallen and branded, still.
Weep, ye who sorrow for the dead,
Thus breaking hearts their pain relieve;
And graceful are the tears ye shed,
And honoured ye who grieve.
The praise of those who sleep in earth,
The pleasant memory of their worth,
The hope to meet when life is past,
Shall heal the tortured mind at last.
But ye, who for the living lost
That agony in secret bear,
Who shall with soothing words accost
The strength of your despair?
Grief for your sake is scorn for them
Whom ye lament and all condemn;
And o'er the world of spirits lies
A gloom from which ye turn your eyes.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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I Want To Wake Up
I heard what you said, and I can tell you its true
I heard youve said that I am crazy about you
Turn in my sleep, the bad dream is over
Think of you and shall I ever recover?
Now, I want to wake up
How I want to wake up
I stood at the kitchen-sink, my radio played
Songs like tainted love and love is strange
As I listened and the words hit my ears
I cried sudden tears
Now, I want to wake up
How I want to wake up
Wake up
(wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up)
(its mad, its mad, its mad)
Its mad, to be in love with someone else
When youre in love with him, shes in love with me
But you know as well as I do
I can never think of anyone but you
(all my life,
All my life
I want to wake up)
Play with fire, play with guns
Its easy to impress someone
Turning in my sleep, you call me a fool
To fall in love, is it so uncool?
Now, I want to wake up
How I want to wake up
Now, I want to wake up
Wake up
(wake up, wake up
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Wake up, wake up - ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh
Ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
I, I want to wake up
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
I, I want to wake up
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
I, I want to wake up
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
I, I want to wake up, with you, oh
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh - oooh)
I, I want to wake up, with you, oh, ooh
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh) I want to wake up, wake up, wake up
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
I, I want to wake up, wake up, wake up with you
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh) I want to wake up, ooh, ooh
(ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh, ooh ooh ooh oh oh)
Ooh
song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sidewinder Sleep Tonight
This here is the place I will be staying.
There isn't a number. You can call the pay phone.
Let it ring a long, long, long, long time.
If I don't pick up, hang up, call back, let it ring some more.
If I don't pick up, pick up... The sidewinder sleeps, sleeps, sleeps in a coil
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
There are scratches all around the coin slot
like a heartbeat, baby trying to wake up,
but this machine can only swallow money.
You can't lay a patch by computer design.
It's just a lot of stupid, stupid signs.
Tell her,
tell her she can kiss my ass, then laugh and say that you were only kidding.
That way she'll know that it's really, really, really, really me.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Baby, instant soup doesn't really grab me.
Today I need something more sub-sub-sub-substantial.
A can of beans or blackeyed peas, some Nescafe and ice,
a candy bar, a falling star, or a reading of Doctor Seuss;
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
The cat in the hat came back, wrecked a lot of havoc on the way,
always had a smile and a reason to pretend.
But their world has flat backgrounds and little need to sleep but to dream.
The sidewinder sleeps on his back.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
Call me when you try to wake her up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
I can always sleep standing up. Call me when you try to wake her.
We've got to moogie, moogie, move on this one
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gentle Gaoler
Being a gaoler I'm supposed
To be a hard-boiled guy;
Yet never prison walls enclosed
A kinder soul than I:
Passing my charges precious pills
To end their ills.
And if in gentle sleep they die,
And pass to pleasant peace,
No one suspects that it is I
Who gave them their release:
No matter what the Doctor thinks,
The Warden winks.
A lifer's is a fearful fate;
It wrings the heart of me.
And what a saving to the State
A sudden death must be!
Doomed men should have the legal right
To end their plight.
And so my veronel they take,
And bid goodbye to pain;
And sleep, and never, never wake
To living hell again:
Oh call me curst or call me blest,--
I give them rest.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Very Special Gifts
three magi with three symbolic gifts
gave chase to a bright star in the east
bringing special gifts of gold, myrrh, and frankincense
all to a newborn king
who became high priest
oh yes! these magi had very good sense!
this newborn king gave the angels a reason to sing
the world a reason to rejoice
then the exclamation of a great voice-
this is my beloved son, in whom i am well pleased! ! !
for this priest- i will go to my knees
and give my soul's devotion-
for the gifts of peace
love
and eternal salvation!
poem by Rachel Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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