A Poem On The Last Day - Book II
Now man awakes, and from his silent bed,
Where he has slept for ages, lifts his head;
Shakes off the slumber of ten thousand years,
And on the borders of new worlds appears.
Whate'er the bold, the rash adventure cost,
In wide Eternity I dare be lost.
The Muse is wont in narrow bounds to sing,
To teach the swain, or celebrate the king.
I grasp the whole, no more to parts confined,
I lift my voice, and sing to human kind:
I sing to men and angels; angels join,
While such the theme, their sacred songs with mine.
Again the trumpet's intermitted sound
Rolls the wide circuit of creation round,
An universal concourse to prepare
Of all that ever breathed the vital air;
In some wide field, which active whirlwinds sweep,
Drive cities, forests, mountains to the deep,
To smooth and lengthen out the' unbounded space,
And spread an area for all human race.
Now monuments prove faithful to their trust,
And render back their long committed dust.
Now charnels rattle; scatter'd limbs, and all
The various bones, obsequious to the call,
Self-moved, advance; the neck perhaps to meet
The distant head; the distant legs, the feet.
Dreadful to view, see through the dusky sky
Fragments of bodies in confusion fly,
To distant regions journeying, there to claim
Deserted members, and complete the frame.
When the world bow'd to Rome's almighty sword,
Rome bow'd to Pompey, and confess'd her lord.
Yet, one day lost, this deity below
Became the scorn and pity of his foe.
His blood a traitor's sacrifice was made,
And smoked indignant on a ruffian's blade.
No trumpet's sound, no gasping army's yell,
Bid, with due horror, his great soul farewell.
Obscure his fall: all weltering in his gore,
His trunk was cast to perish on the shore!
While Julius frown'd the bloody monster dead,
Who brought the world in his great rival's head.
This sever'd head and trunk shall join once more,
Though realms now rise between, and oceans roar.
The trumpet's sound each vagrant-mote shall hear,
Or fix'd in earth, or if afloat in air,
Obey the signal wafted in the wind,
And not one sleeping atom lag behind.
So swarming bees, that, on a summer's day,
In airy rings and wild meanders play,
Charm'd with the brasen sound, their wanderings end,
And, gently circling, on a bough descend.
The body thus renew'd, the conscious soul,
Which has perhaps been fluttering near the pole,
Or midst the burning planets wondering stray'd,
Or hover'd o'er where her pale corpse was laid;
Or rather coasted on her final state,
And fear'd or wish'd for her appointed fate:
This soul, returning with a constant flame,
Now weds for ever her immortal frame.
Life, which ran down before, so high is wound,
The springs maintain an everlasting round.
Thus a frail model of the work design'd
First takes a copy of the builder's mind,
Before the structure firm with lasting oak,
And marble bowels of the solid rock,
Turns the strong arch, and bids the columns rise,
And bear the lofty palace to the skies;
The wrongs of Time enabled to surpass,
With bars of adamant, and ribs of brass.
That ancient, sacred, and illustrious dome,
Where soon or late fair Albion's heroes come,
From camps and courts, though great, or wise, or just,
To feed the worm, and moulder into dust;
That solemn mansion of the royal dead,
Where passing slaves o'er sleeping monarchs tread,
Now populous o'erflows: a numerous race
Of rising kings fill all the' extended space.
A life well-spent, not the victorious sword,
Awards the crown, and styles the greater lord.
Nor monuments alone, and burial earth,
Labour with man to this his second birth;
But where gay palaces in pomp arise,
And gilded theatres invade the skies,
Nations shall wake, whose unrespected bones
Support the pride of their luxurious sons.
The most magnificent and costly dome
Is but an upper chamber to a tomb.
No spot on earth but has supplied a grave,
And human skulls the spacious ocean pave.
All's full of man; and at this dreadful turn,
The swarm shall issue, and the hive shall burn.
Not all at once, nor in like manner, rise:
Some lift with pain their slow unwilling eyes;
Shrink backward from the terror of the light,
And bless the grave, and call for lasting night.
Others, whose long-attempted virtue stood
Fix'd as a rock, and broke the rushing flood;
Whose firm resolve nor beauty could melt down,
Nor raging tyrants from their posture frown:-
Such, in this day of horrors, shall be seen
To face the thunders with a godlike mien:
The planets drop, their thoughts are fix'd above;
The centre shakes, their hearts disdain to move:
An earth dissolving, and a heaven thrown wide,
A yawning gulf, and fiends on every side,
Serene they view, impatient of delay,
And bless the dawn of everlasting day.
Here greatness prostrate falls; there strength gives place:
Here lazars smile; there beauty hides her face.
Christians, and Jews, and Turks, and Pagans stand,
A blended throng, one undistinguish'd band.
Some who, perhaps, by mutual wounds expired,
With zeal for their distinct persuasions fired,
In mutual friendship their long slumber break,
And hand in hand their Saviour's love partake.
But none are flush'd with brighter joy, or, warm
With juster confidence, enjoy the storm,
Than those whose pious bounties, unconfined,
Have made them public fathers of mankind.
In that illustrious rank, what shining light
With such distinguish'd glory fills my sight?
Bend down, my grateful Muse, that homage show
Which to such worthies thou art proud to owe.
Wykeham, Fox, Chicheley! hail, illustrious names,
Who to far-distant times dispense your beams!
Beneath your shades, and near your crystal springs,
I first presumed to touch the trembling strings.
All hail, thrice-honour'd! 'Twas your great renown
To bless a people, and oblige a crown.
And now you rise, eternally to shine,
Eternally to drink the rays Divine.
Indulgent God! O how shall mortal raise
His soul to due returns of grateful praise,
For bounty so profuse to human kind,
Thy wondrous gift of an eternal mind?
Shall I, who, some few years ago, was less
Than worm, or mite, or shadow can express,-
Was nothing; shall I live, when every fire
And every star shall languish and expire?
When earth's no more, shall I survive above,
And through the radiant files of angels move?
Or, as before the throne of God I stand,
See new worlds rolling from His spacious hand,
Where our adventures shall perhaps be taught,
As we now tell how Michael sung or fought?
All that has being in full concert join,
And celebrate the depths of Love Divine!
But O! before this blissful state, before
The' aspiring soul this wondrous height can soar,
The Judge, descending, thunders from afar,
And all mankind is summon'd to the bar.
This mighty scene I next presume to draw:
Attend, great Anna, with religious awe.
Expect not here the known successful arts
To win attention, and command our hearts:
Fiction, be far away; let no machine
Descending here, no fabled God, be seen:
Behold the God of gods indeed descend,
And worlds unnumber'd His approach attend!
Lo! the wide theatre, whose ample space
Must entertain the whole of human race,
At Heaven's all-powerful edict is prepared,
And fenced around with an immortal guard.
Tribes, provinces, dominions, worlds o'erflow
The mighty plain, and deluge all below:
And every age and nation pours along;
Nimrod and Bourbon mingle in the throng;
Adam salutes his youngest son; no sign
Of all those ages which their births disjoin.
How empty learning, and how vain is art,
But as it mends the life, and guides the heart!
What volumes have been swell'd, what time been spent,
To fix a hero's birth-day or descent!
What joy must it now yield, what rapture raise,
To see the glorious race of ancient days!
To greet those worthies who perhaps have stood
Illustrious on record before the flood!
Alas! a nearer care your soul demands,
Caesar unnoted in your presence stands.
How vast the concourse! not in number more
The waves that break on the resounding shore,
The leaves that tremble in the shady grove,
The lamps that gild the spangled vault above.
Those overwhelming armies, whose command
Said to one empire, ``Fall;'' another, ``Stand;''
Whose rear lay wrapp'd in night, while breaking dawn
Roused the broad front, and call'd the battle on:
Great Xerxes' world in arms, proud Cannae's field,
Where Carthage taught victorious Rome to yield;
(Another blow had broke the Fates' decree,
And earth had wanted her fourth monarchy
Immortal Blenheim, famed Ramillia's host:-
They all are here, and here they all are lost:
Their millions swell to be discern'd in vain,
Lost as a billow in the' unbounded main.
This echoing voice now rends the yielding air,
For judgment, judgment, sons of men, prepare!
Earth shakes anew; I hear her groans profound;
And hell through all her trembling realms resound.
Whoe'er thou art, thou greatest power of earth,
Bless'd with most equal planets at thy birth:
Whose valour drew the most successful sword,
Most realms united in one common lord;
Who, on the day of triumph, saidst, ``Be Thine
The skies, Jehovah: all this world is mine:''
Dare not to lift thine eye.-Alas! my Muse,
How art thou lost! what numbers canst thou choose?
A sudden blush inflames the waving sky,
And now the crimson curtains open fly;
Lo! far within, and far above all height,
Where heaven's great Sovereign reigns in worlds of light;
Whence Nature He informs, and, with one ray
Shot from His eye, does all her works survey,
Creates, supports, confounds! where time, and place,
Matter, and form, and fortune, life, and grace,
Wait humbly at the footstool of their God,
And move obedient at His awful nod;
Whence He beholds us vagrant emmets crawl
At random on this air-suspended ball:
(Speck of creation!) if He pour one breath,
The bubble breaks, and 'tis eternal death.
Thence issuing I behold, (but mortal sight
Sustains not such a rushing sea of light!)
I see, on an empyreal flying throne
Sublimely raised, Heaven's everlasting Son;
Crown'd with that majesty which form'd the world,
And the grand rebel flaming downward hurl'd
Virtue, Dominion, Praise, Omnipotence,
Support the train of their triumphant Prince.
A zone, beyond the thought of angels bright,
Around Him, like the zodiac, winds its light.
Night shades the solemn arches of His brows,
And in His cheek the purple morning glows.
Where'er serene He turns propitious eyes,
Or we expect, or find, a Paradise:
But if resentment reddens their mild beams,
The Eden kindles, and the world's in flames.
On one hand, Knowledge shines in purest light;
On one, the sword of Justice, fiercely bright.
Now bend the knee in sport, present the reed;
Now tell the scourged impostor He shall bleed!
Thus glorious through the courts of heaven the Source
Of life and death eternal bends His course;
Loud thunders round Him roll, and lightnings play;
The' angelic host is ranged in bright array:
Some touch the string, some strike the sounding shell,
And mingling voices in rich concert swell;
Voices seraphic! bless'd with such a strain,
Could Satan hear, he were a god again.
Triumphant King of Glory! Soul of Bliss!
What a stupendous turn of fate is this!
O whither art thou raised above the scorn
And indigence of Him in Bethlem born!
A needless, helpless, unaccounted guest,
And but a second to the fodder'd beast!
How changed from Him who, meekly prostrate laid,
Vouchsafed to wash the feet Himself had made!
From Him who was betray'd, forsook, denied,
Wept, languish'd, pray'd, bled, thirsted, groan'd, and died;
Hung pierced and bare, insulted by the foe,
All heaven in tears above, earth unconcern'd below!
And was't enough to bid the sun retire?
Why did not Nature at Thy groan expire?
I see, I hear, I feel, the pangs Divine;
The world is vanish'd,-I am wholly Thine.
Mistaken Caiaphas! Ah! which blasphemed,-
Thou, or thy Prisoner? which shall be condemn'd?
Well mightst thou rend thy garments, well exclaim;
Deep are the horrors of eternal flame!
But God is good! 'Tis wondrous all! E'en He
Thou gavest to death, shame, torture, died for thee.
Now the descending triumph stops its flight
From earth full twice a planetary height.
There all the clouds, condensed, two columns raise
Distinct with orient veins, and golden blaze:
One fix'd on earth, and one in sea, and round
Its ample foot the swelling billows sound.
These an immeasurable arch support,
The grand tribunal of this awful court.
Sheets of bright azure, from the purest sky,
Stream from the crystal arch, and round the columns fly.
Death, wrapp'd in chains, low at the basis lies,
And on the point of his own arrow dies.
Here high-enthroned the' eternal Judge is placed,
With all the grandeur of His Godhead graced;
Stars on His robes in beauteous order meet,
And the sun burns beneath His awful feet.
Now an archangel eminently bright,
From off his silver staff of wondrous height,
Unfurls the Christian flag, which waving flies,
And shuts and opens more than half the skies:
The cross so strong a red, it sheds a stain,
Where'er it floats, on earth, and air, and main;
Flushes the hill, and sets on fire the wood,
And turns the deep-dyed ocean into blood.
O formidable Glory! dreadful bright!
Refulgent torture to the guilty sight.
Ah, turn, unwary Muse, nor dare reveal
What horrid thoughts with the polluted dwell.
Say not, (to make the Sun shrink in his beam,)
Dare not affirm, they wish it all a dream;
Wish, or their souls may with their limbs decay,
Or God be spoil'd of His eternal sway.
But rather, if thou know'st the means, unfold
How they with transport might the scene behold.
Ah how, but by repentance, by a mind
Quick and severe its own offence to find;
By tears, and groans, and never-ceasing care,
And all the pious violence of prayer?
Thus then, with fervency till now unknown,
I cast my heart before the' eternal throne,
In this great temple, which the skies surround,
For homage to its Lord a narrow bound:-
``O Thou! whose balance does the mountains weigh,
Whose will the wild tumultuous seas obey,
Whose breath can turn those watery worlds to flame,
That flame to tempest, and that tempest tame;
Earth's meanest son, all trembling, prostrate falls,
And on the Boundless of Thy goodness calls.
``O give the winds all past offence to sweep,
To scatter wide, or bury in the deep!
Thy power, my weakness, may I ever see,
And wholly dedicate my soul to Thee.
Reign o'er my will; my passions ebb and flow
At Thy command, nor human motive know.
If anger boil, let anger be my praise,
And sin the graceful indignation raise.
My love be warm to succour the distress'd,
And lift the burden from the soul oppress'd.
O may my understanding ever read
This glorious volume, which Thy wisdom made!
Who decks the maiden Spring with flowery pride?
Who calls forth Summer, like a sparkling bride?
Who joys the mother Autumn's bed to crown,
And bids old Winter lay her honours down?
Not the great Ottoman, or greater Czar,
Not Europe's arbitress of peace and war.
May sea and land, and earth and heaven, be join'd,
To bring the' eternal Author to my mind!
When oceans roar, or awful thunders roll,
May thoughts of Thy dread vengeance shake my soul!
When earth's in bloom, or planets proudly shine,
Adore, my heart, the Majesty Divine!
``Through every scene of life, or peace or war,
Plenty or want, Thy glory be my care!
Shine we in arms? or sing beneath our vine?
Thine is the vintage, and the conquest Thine:
Thy pleasure points the shaft, and bends the bow;
The cluster blasts, or bids it brightly glow:
'Tis Thou that lead'st our powerful armies forth,
And giv'st great Anne Thy sceptre o'er the north.
``Grant I may ever, at the morning ray,
Open with prayer the consecrated day;
Tune Thy great praise, and bid my soul arise,
And with the mounting sun ascend the skies:
As that advances, let my zeal improve,
And glow with ardour of consummate love;
Nor cease at eve, but with the setting sun
My endless worship shall be still begun.
``And O! permit the gloom of solemn night
To sacred thought may forcibly invite.
When this world's shut, and awful planets rise,
Call on our minds, and raise them to the skies;
Compose our souls with a less dazzling sight,
And show all nature in a milder light;
How every boisterous thought in calms subsides!
How the smooth'd spirit into goodness glides!
O how Divine! to tread the Milky Way,
To the bright palace of the Lord of Day;
His court admire, or for His favour sue,
Or leagues of friendship with His saints renew;
Pleased to look down, and see the world asleep,
While I long vigils to its Founder keep!
``Canst Thou not shake the centre? O control,
Subdue by force, the rebel in my soul!
Thou, who canst still the raging of the flood,
Restrain the various tumults of my blood;
Teach me, with equal firmness, to sustain
Alluring pleasure, and assaulting pain.
O may I pant for Thee in each desire!
And with strong faith foment the holy fire!
Stretch out my soul in hope, and grasp the prize
Which in Eternity's deep bosom lies!
At the great day of recompence behold,
Devoid of fear, the fatal book unfold!
Then, wafted upward to the blissful seat,
From age to age my grateful song repeat;
My Light, my Life, my God, my Saviour see,
And rival angels in the praise of Thee!''
poem by Edward Young
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Related quotes
Languages
There are no handles upon a language
Whereby men take hold of it
And mark it with signs for its remembrance.
It is a river, this language,
Once in a thousand years
Breaking a new course
Changing its way to the ocean.
It is mountain effluvia
Moving to valleys
And from nation to nation
Crossing borders and mixing.
Languages die like rivers.
Words wrapped round your tongue today
And broken to shape of thought
Between your teeth and lips speaking
Now and today
Shall be faded hieroglyphics
Ten thousand years from now.
Sing--and singing--remember
Your song dies and changes
And is not here to-morrow
Any more than the wind
Blowing ten thousand years ago.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Brand New Day
Each petal of every flower,
from white to flaming red,
opens to greet each new day,
from their sleepy bed.
Every living creature,
whether it is large or small,
awakes from their slumber
as each brand new day comes to call.
As the world awakes around us,
all its wonders begin to appear,
as if someone has waved a magic wand,
when the sun begins to appear,
and a brand new day comes to call.
poem by David Harris
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The Great Wall
the builders
at the apex
of their monument
of sufferings
two thousand years
away from us
now quiet as the breeze
that carresses a calm
nonchalant birds cruise
and lifts themselves
above us all excited to
see who could climb
to the top
some two thousand steps
from the start of the wall
at Badaling
and there have our
pictures taken
to be hung in
home sweet home
two thousand miles away
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Yves Tanguy
The worlds are breaking in my head
Blown by the brainless wind
That comes from afar
Swollen with dusk and dust
And hysterical rain
The fading cries of the light
Awaken the endless desert
Engrossed in its tropical slumber
Enclosed by the dead grey oceans
Enclasped by the arms of the night
The worlds are breaking in my head
Their fragments are crumbs of despair
The food of the solitary damned
Who await the gross tumult of turbulent
Days bringing change without end.
The worlds are breaking in my head
The fuming future sleeps no more
For their seeds are beginning to grow
To creep and to cry midst the
Rocks of the deserts to come
Planetary seed
Sown by the grotesque wind
Whose head is so swollen with rumours
Whose hands are so urgent with tumours
Whose feet are so deep in the sand.
poem by David Gascoyne
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Song of a Thousand Years
Lift up your eyes desponding freemen!
Fling to the winds your needless fears!
He who unfurl'd your beauteous banner,
Says it shall wave a thousand years!
"A thousand years!" my own Columbia!
'Tis the glad day so long foretold!
'Tis the glad morn whose early twilight
Washington saw in times of old.
What if the clouds, one little moment,
Hide the blue sky where morn appears --
When the bright sun, that tints them crimson,
Rises to shine a thousand years?
Tell the great world those bless-ed tidings!
Yes, and be sure the bondman hears;
Tell the oppress'd of ev'ry nation,
Jubilee lasts a thousand years!
Fearless foes, beyond the ocean!
Little we heed your threat'ning sneers;
Little will they -- our children's children --
When you are gone a thousand years.
Rebels at home! go hide your faces --
Weep for your crimes with bitter tears;
_You_ could not bind the blessed daylight,
Though you should strive a thousand years.
Back to your dens, ye secret traitors!
Down to your own degraded spheres!
Ere the first blaze of dazzling sunshine
Shortens your lives a thousand years.
Haste thee along, this glorious Noonday!
Oh, for the eyes of ancient seers!
Oh, for the faith of Him who reckons
Each of his days a thousand years.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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O, Do Not Forsake Me
O, do not forsake me, my indolent friends
O, do not forsake me though you know I must spend
All my darkest hours talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure, you think thats old
One thousand years old
But what do you know?
In my darkest hour Im talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
Oh, some have forgotten the flower of speech
And walks through the garden where I go to defend
Misbegotten notions while talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure, Id say thats old
One thousand years old
But what do I know?
In your darkest hour, my indolent friends
Well be one thousand years old
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O Do Not Forsake Me (Demo)
O, do not forsake me, my indolent friends
O, do not forsake me for you know I must spend
All my darkest hours talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure you think that's old
ONe thousand years old, but what do you know?
In my darkest hour I'm talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
Oh, some have forgotten the flower of speech
And walks through the garden where
I go to defent misbegotten notions while talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure, I'd say that's old
ONe thousand years old, but what do I know?
In your darkest hour, my indolent friends, we'll be one thousand years old
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Sonnet Of Fantasy
In my heart, your eyes flashes in my dark,
And in my dark, you capture my very heart.
I see your soul wanderd to worlds unknown,
And caught me so broken in my own home.
I don't drowse nor slumber without seeing you,
And you have become my fantasy too.
I could stare at your eyes a million years,
And go with you anywhere, even Hell.
I would like to write you a thousand poems,
For you are the best no one could contest.
I would love to marry you tomorrow,
And drain away every of your sorrow.
Wish if I could lie beside you everynight,
And end this fantasy and dream of mine.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Sleep
When all, and birds, and creeping beasts,
When the dark of night is deep,
From the moving wonder of their lives
Commit themselves to sleep.
Without a thought, or fear, they shut
The narrow gates of sense;
Heedless and quiet, in slumber turn
Their strength to impotence.
The transient strangeness of the earth
Their spirits no more see:
Within a silent gloom withdrawn,
They slumber in secrecy.
Two worlds they have--a globe forgot,
Wheeling from dark to light;
And all the enchanted realm of dream
That burgeons out of night.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Sleeping Together
Sleeping together... how tired you were...
How warm our room... how the firelight spread
On walls and ceiling and great white bed!
We spoke in whispers as children do,
And now it was I--and then it was you
Slept a moment, to wake--"My dear,
I'm not at all sleepy," one of us said....
Was it a thousand years ago?
I woke in your arms--you were sound asleep--
And heard the pattering sound of sheep.
Softly I slipped to the floor and crept
To the curtained window, then, while you slept,
I watched the sheep pass by in the snow.
O flock of thoughts with their shepherd Fear
Shivering, desolate, out in the cold,
That entered into my heart to fold!
A thousand years... was it yesterday
When we two children of far away,
Clinging close in the darkness, lay
Sleeping together?... How tired you were....
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Woman Of A Thousand Years
Written by danny kirwan.
Woman of a thousand years
How are your sons of a time ago
Do they still admire your silvered ways
As you go down
To the sea and golden sand
You may be seen up in the sky
And from the land
Or floating by, a fishermans day
Flying down from a high
She is gone, and then appears
From the waters edge
Woman of a thousand years
He waits to see you...
You may be seen up in the sky
And from the land
Or floating by, a fishermans day
Flying down from a high
She is gone, and then appears
From the waters edge
He waits to see you
For it has been long since you left him
On his own to wander
Woman of a thousand years
How are your sons of a time ago
Do they still admire your silvered ways
As you go down
To the sea and golden sand
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When western greed shakes
a billion impatient heirs,
the dragon awakes.
haiku by Jonathan Robin (13 January 1993)
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Never Tear Us Apart (feat. Tom Jones)
Don't ask me
What you know is true
Don't have to tell you
I love your precious heart
I
I was standing
You were there
Two worlds collided
And they could never tear us apart
We could live
For a thousand years
But if I hurt you
I'd make wine from your tears
I told you
That we could fly
'Cause we all have wings
But some of us don't know why
I
I was standing
You were there
Two worlds collided
And they could never ever tear us apart
song performed by by Natalie Imbruglia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ripples
Bluegirls come in every size
Some are wise and some otherwise,
They got pretty blue eyes.
For an hour a man may change
For an hour her face looks strange -
Looks strange, looks strange.
Marching to the promised land
Where the honey flows and takes you by the hand,
Pulls you down on your knees,
While youre down a pool appears.
The face in the water looks up,
And she shakes her head as if to say
That its the last time youll look like today.
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Gone to the other side.
Sail away, away.
The face that launched a thousand ships
Is sinking fast, that happens you know,
The water gets below.
Seems not very long ago
Lovelier she was than any that I know.
Angels never know its time
To close the book and gracefully decline,
The song has found a tale.
My, what a jealous pool is she.
The face in the water looks up
She shakes her head as if to say
That the bluegirls have all gone away.
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Theyve gone to the other side.
Look into the pool,
Ripples never come back,
Dive to the bottom and go to the top
To see where they have gone
Oh, theyve gone to the other side...
Sail away, away
Ripples never come back.
Gone to the other side.
Look into the pool,
The ripples never come back, come back,
Dive to the bottom and go to the top
To see where they have gone
Theyve gone to the other side
Ripples never come back
Sail away, away...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Voyage Through The Night
He says he has not slept for five years.
Every night through the window hole
He has escaped to the night sky
To mingle with the teeming stars!
He says he has not slept for five years.
Every night he has ridden a comet
To reach the farthest sky and beyond
And cartwheel on shooting stars!
He says he has not slept for five years.
So that not one night goes amiss
In his cell of suffocating walls
With an iron crown and chained feet
On a spiked bed shedding endless tears!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Driving Deadly | Early Poems
An ocean gushes from my eyes
but my face is dry.
My throat weighs two thousand tons, and yet,
away from the ground I fly to worlds unknown by others.
A lazy eye winks at me and tells me to die.
The wind begins to swallow me, and I give in and say:
'Take me! Oh take me away with you! '
Then, quite suddenly, a snake appears and vanishes in the sky.
poem by Anna Maria
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Up Off Our Knees
Famines will be famines, banquets will be banquets
Some spend winter in a palace, some spend it in blankets
Dont wag your fingers at them and turn to walk away
Dont shoot someone tomorrow that you can shoot today
Time to end the praying
Listen what theyre saying
Get up off your knees
You can wag your finger till your fingers sore
Shake your head till it shakes no more
Paupers will be paupers, bankers will be bankers
Some own pennies in a jar, some own oil tankers
What may sound like tomorrow could be ours today
Theres no more need for sorrow if we get off our knees to pray
Time to end the praying
Listen what theyre saying
Get up off your knees
You can wag your finger till your fingers sore
Shake your head till it shakes no more
Countries will be countries, borders will be borders
Some have lost their folks at war, some have give orders
Dont wag your fingers at them and turn to walk away
Dont shoot someone tomorrow that you can shoot today
Time to end the praying
Listen what theyre saying
song performed by by Housemartins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Three Worlds
I see a world
Where love exists
The source
Of everything
A world of Beings
Who recognize
A connection
To ALL that is
There are
No borders
No prejudice
No anger hate
Or greed
Where all that is
Is all that they
Will ever need
I see a world
Where power is
The quest of
Every soul
Where separation
Alienates
Makes enemies
Of everyone
There are borders
Everywhere
As well, as prejudice
Fear ignites
All their actions
And nothing
Is taboo
Between these worlds
A world exists
Which knows not
Love or fear
Whose Beings
Surrender
To the beauty
Of life
And let it be
What it is
There are no borders
No separation
There’s observation
Appreciation
And creation
Never ending
One Moment
ONE with ALL
About ALL
poem by Paizli Palmrose
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I were to awaken after having slept for a thousand years, my first question would be: Has the Riemann hypothesis been proven?
quote by David Hilbert
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Golden Daffodil's
Oh, what joy my eyes behold
To see such beauty there unfold,
And my heart with pleasure fills
When sun from ebbing winter days
Bring forth the Golden Daffodil's.
Lovely flower, majestic king
Who God awakes in early spring
So cloth'd in all your golden hue
No flower on the garden scene
Is as beautiful as you.
With silent voices and knodding heads
Gayly dancing in swirling beds
Your beauty in the garden spills,
And lifts the lonely hearts of all
Oh, Daffodil's, Oh, Daffodil's.
Dazzling in your sunny place
You fill the garden with poise and grace
Your smell is sweet, your color bold,
And for the often pensive mood
You are the flower to the soul.
All too soon under an early spring sky
Leaves will yellow, crumble and die
Sweet flower that we long to stay
Slips away in peaceful sleep
To stir our hearts another day.
By
Richard Netherland Cook
poem by Richard Netherland Cook
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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