Guerdon
Upon the white cheek of the Cherub Year
I saw a tear.
Alas! I murmured, that the Year should borrow
So soon a sorrow.
Just then the sunlight fell with sudden flame:
A tear became
A wondrous diamond sparkling in the light –
A beautiful sight.
Upon my soul there fell such woeful loss,
I said, ‘The Cross
Is grievous for a life as young as mine.’
Just then, like wine,
God’s sunlight shone from His high Heavens down;
And lo! a crown
Gleamed in the place of what I thought a burden –
My sorrow’s guerdon.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Related quotes
A Heart Spring
One tear today, one love tomorrow
My heart springs from everyday sorrow.
A light blue, a scarlet red
into my soul those colors spread.
The hand of love me clench then said
‘Your sorrow is my love, my love your sorrow
to this I pledge and to this do wed'
Then my love cried with rain in my head
And declared to me that sorrow from joy must always borrow,
so one tear today can be one love tomorrow.
My heart sprang like the flowers in spring,
as her voice sang, that beautiful thing.
To sorrow, to love, to joy I sing…..
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded
Has sorrow thy young days shaded,
As clouds o'er the morning fleet?
Too fast have those young days faded
That, even in sorrow, were sweet?
Does Time with his cold wing wither
Each feeling that once was dear? --
Then, child of misfortune, come hither,
I'll weep with thee, tear for tear.
Has love to that soul, so tender,
Been like our Lagenian mine,
Where sparkles of golden splendour
All over the surface shine --
But, if in pursuit we go deeper,
Allured by the gleam that shone,
Ah! false as the dream of the sleeper,
Like Love, the bright ore is gone.
Has Hope, like the bird in the story,
That flitted from tree to tree
With the talisman's glittering glory --
Has Hope been that bird to thee?
On branch after branch alighting,
The gem did she still display,
And, when nearest, and most inviting,
Then waft the fair gem away?
If thus the young hours have fleeted,
When sorrow itself look'd bright;
If thus the fair hope hath cheated,
That led thee along so light;
If thus the cold world now wither
Each feeling that once was dear --
Come, child of misfortune, come hither,
I'll weep with thee, tear for tear.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Happy New Year!
For every dropp of tear
You shed
For every loss of love
You bled
May there be many more
Smiles adorning your lips
May there be many more
Miles in your life's long trips.
To make you see and savour
The wonders of this
Mysterious Enigma -
That we call our 'world'
On this beautiful earth
In the cradle of the sky.
So here's why
I wish you ~
A Happy New Year!
As every moment
Lived and cherished
Is so priceless, my dear.
Live it up, Light it up
Passions Ignited -
Spark it up with
The Zest for Life.
And make this Year
As Memorable :)
And Happy in good cheer
Like smiles without a tear!
Here's warmly wishing you a
Peaceful and Prosperous :)
Happy and Meaningful New Year!
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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The Cloak, The Boat, And The Shoes
'WHAT do you make so fair and bright?'
'I make the cloak of Sorrow:
O lovely to see in all men's sight
Shall be the cloak of Sorrow,
In all men's sight.'
'What do you build with sails for flight?'
'I build a boat for Sorrow:
O swift on the seas all day and night
Saileth the rover Sorrow,
All day and night.'
What do you weave with wool so white?'
'I weave the shoes of Sorrow:
Soundless shall be the footfall light
In all men's ears of Sorrow,
Sudden and light.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Cloak, The Boat And The Shoes
'What do you make so fair and bright?'
'I make the cloak of Sorrow:
O lovely to see in all men's sight
Shall be the cloak of Sorrow,
In all men's sight.'
'What do you build with sails for flight?'
'I build a boat for Sorrow:
O swift on the seas all day and night
Saileth the rover Sorrow,
All day and night.'
What do you weave with wool so white?'
'I weave the shoes of Sorrow:
Soundless shall be the footfall light
In all men's ears of Sorrow,
Sudden and light.'
poem by William Butler Yeats
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The Wonderful Cross
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of Glory died
My Richest gain I count but loss
And pour contempt on all my pride
See from His head His hands His feet
Sorrow and love mingled down
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet
Or thorns compose so rich a crown
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
Bides me come and die and find
that I may truly live
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
All who gather here by grace
draw here and bless your name
Were the whole realm of nature mine
That were and an off'ring far too small
Love so amazing so divine
Demands my soul my life my all
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
Bids me come and die and find
that I may truly live
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
All who gather here by grace
draw here and bless your name
Life so amazing, so divine
Demands my soul. my life, my all
and the beauty and the shame
in the glory of His name
Oh the wonderful cross
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
Bids me come and die and find
that I may truly live
Oh the wonderful cross (2x)
All who gather here by grace
draw here and bless your name
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Season of Wine and Roses
Remember when the wine was red,
and the rose was red, as well ~
and how the two were wed as one,
when the sunlight softly fell.
The pinkened kiss, the gentle blush,
beneath a soft, green canopy ~
and wine flowed there beside the rose,
'til sunlight set on autumn's eve.
And there within the autumn's breath,
came an orange and golden kiss ~
that found the wine and lovely rose,
beguiled by summer's bliss...
remembering when the wine was sweet,
and the rose was a budding bloom ~
and velvet was the reddened wine,
when the red rose danced in June.
Thinly brown, with winter's death,
the vine and thorn entwine ~
and wait impatiently for spring,
when, once more, a life they'll find.
And now upon the chilling wind,
there's a whisper that gently fell ~
'Remember when the wine was red,
and the rose was red, as well'...
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part IV: Vita Nova: XCIV
A YEAR AGO
A year ago I too was proud of May,
I too delighted in the blackbird's song.
When the sun shone my soul made holiday.
When the rain fell I felt it as a wrong.
Then for me too the world was fresh and young.
Oh what a miracle each bluebell was!
How my heart leaped in union with my tongue,
When first I lit upon a stag's horn moss!
--A year ago! Alas, one Summer's fire,
One autumn's chill, one Winter's discontent,
And now one Spring of joy and hope deferred
Have brought me to this pass of undesire
That I behold May's veil of beauty rent
And stand unmoved by sun and flower and bird.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Angle Of Sorrow...
This be me the angle of sorrow…
This is me the angle you wont see tomorrow…
The angle of sorrow who looks for no tomorrow…
The angle of sorrow isn't the one you want to borrow…
This angle isn't going to mangle but he's just going to dangle…
From the ceilings he is going to dangle…
The angle or sorrow is the angle who wont be here forever however
His sorrow will remain in this place forever.
I will bring on sheer terror so be ready to fear
Im coming at you with a spear…don't let me get near… because I will tear you to
Smears…steer away from my path before you get blast…
This place is soo vast but remember that I am fast…
don't let me pass or you will be last…
This is the angle of sorrow…
The angle you wouldn't wanna see tomorrow…
By: Tou Yang
Supposing Tomorrow
Whenever I think of the supposing tomorrow
I think of a day without pain and sorrow
Where all bright ray and sunshine
Will appear as all yours and mines
Where all the skies will be free of clouds
And all men's heart will be free of doubts
And every one will be given the share
Of joy and sorrow, smile and tear
And there I wish in the supposing tomorrow
Everyone will be ready to lend and borrow
the flowers of the blooming smile
And fains new ways and bright styles
Where no one will be left alone to sigh
Or fight with sorrow's place taht're high
And no one will be forced to lay
Sorrow's brick one by one with the hay
And I wish I can live taht long
So I can also recieve with song
The day when there'll be no pain and sorrow
Yes ofcourse I'm talking of the supposing tomorrow.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Sunlight
I can’t wait for tomorrow
To see a brand new day
I think about the morning
And it warms my heart
The morning sunlight
That brings me hope
The sunlight
That keeps me to smile
Oh sunlight… don’t you know
How much joy you had brought to me?
I go dance with the trees
To the tune of gasping leaves
Sunlight, Oh sunlight
Show me the way
For a brighter day
Shine on me like a guiding light
Bring me the love
That I can feel deep inside of me
Come to me
And light my window pane
For today, you are my angel
Oh sunlight, my sunlight
Stay close to me
As I feel your power
That embraces me
For today and tomorrow
You’ll be there beside me
Oh sunlight….
You’re my laughter, my friend
My life, my joy
Oh sunlight….! ! !
poem by Cheryl Aldea
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Dream and Reality
I had a dream of a blood red moon in a dark sky with metalic star's
what a beautiful sight, but not as beautiful as the way you are inside and out, i never thought id be able to see you in a world so you beautiful. The world i created was more beautiful when you showed up. The sunlight was gone and my world was broken but patched and sowen and the black blind fold that covered my sorrow filled eyes was lifted by you gental hands.
I had a nightmare with my world burning and you no where in sight and now i am broken an bleeding, my blind fold i must tie around my bleeding sorrow filled eyes as i am alone till one day someone new shall enter or you shall returne and when i awake i realise my nightmare is reality.
poem by Sandy Vanity
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Little Henry
Air -- "Minnie Lee"
Oh! come listen to my story
Of a little infant child --
His spirit is in glory --
It has left us for a while.
Death has robbed us of our Henry,
He is with our Savior now,
Where there is no pain or sorrow
Comes to cloud his little brow.
CHORUS:
God has took their little treasure,
And his name I'll tell you now,
He has gone from earth forever,
Their little Charles Henry House.
His cheeks were red as roses,
And his eyes were black as coals,
His little lips were red as rubies,
And his little hair it curled.
Oh, they called him little Charley,
He was full of joyful mirth --
Now his little form is lying
'Neath the cold and silent earth.
It was the eleventh of December,
On a cold and windy day,
Just at the close of evening,
When the sunlight fades away;
Little Henry he was dying,
In his little crib he lay,
With soft winds round him sighing
From the morn till close of day.
Parents, brothers, sisters weeping,
For their cup of sorrow's full,
And his little playthings keeping,
That he thought so beautiful --
Tears from parents' eyes were starting
For their little loving one.
Oh! how painful was the parting
From their little infant son.
Oh! how often have they kissed him,
And caressed his little brow --
To his little voice have listened,
But his place is vacant now.
They called him little Charley,
And his loving name they called,
But they could not keep their darling
From the loving Savior's call.
But they must now cease their mourning,
His little soul is at rest,
Where there can no storms of trouble
Roll across his peaceful breast.
Now his little form is sleeping
In the cold and silent tomb,
And his friends are left a weeping,
In his dear and loving home.
It was the eleventh of December,
Eighteen seventy was the year,
Kind friends will all remember --
Silently let fall a tear.
But we must not trouble borrow,
For the God of heaven is just;
No one knows a parent's sorrow,
Till a child some friend have lost.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Dust And Smoke
Sitting in piles of papers,
I don't find my dear poem.
Alas! What I did yesterday,
with pen, in poem's name?
I see eagerly, but find
nothing, which can be my
the best poem, I cry in
sorrow and heave a sigh.
And oh! to my surprise
I watch smoke of anger,
of sorrow, and tear are
coming out, I can't share!
The dust of old thought,
smear my imagination...
I tear my poems one by
one in the sky and laugh
in wilderness to vie
with me and my power
which have gone in the air!
I make tight grip to fight
to get to power too rare! !
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Decreed
Into all lives some rain must fall,
Into all eyes some tear-drops start,
Whether they fall as gentle shower,
Or fall like fire from an aching heart.
Into all hearts some sorrow must creep,
Into all souls some doubtings come,
Lashing the waves of life's great deep
From dimpling waters to seething foam.
Over all paths some clouds must lower,
Under all feet some sharp thorns spring,
Tearing the flesh to bitter wounds,
Or entering the heart with their bitter sting.
Upon all brows rough winds must blow,
Over all shoulders a cross be lain,
Bowing the form in its lofty height
Down to the dust in bitter pain.
Into all hands some duty's thrust;
Unto all arms some burden's given,
Crushing the heart with its weary weight,
Or lifting the soul from earth to heaven.
Into all hearts and homes and lives
God's dear sunlight comes streaming down,
Gilding the ruins of life's great plain--
Weaving for all a golden crown.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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To the Ladies' Free Produce Society
Your gathering day! and I am not,
As erst, amid you set;
But even from this distant spot,
My thoughts are with you yet,
As freshly as in hours forgot,
When I was with you met.
His blessing on your high career!
Go, press unwearied on,
From month to month, from year to year,
Till when your task is done,
The franchised negro's grateful tear
Oh faint you not, ye gathered band!
Although your way be long,
And they who ranged against you stand,
Are numberless and strong;
While you but bear a feeble hand,
Unused to cope with wrong.
Upon your injured brother look,
And nerve ye with the sight!
Could you the good, the gentle, brook
To wear your days in light,
Regardless that by sorrow struck,
He pines in rayless night?
Oh surely 't is a blessed fate,
A lot like that ye bear—
To bid the crush'd and desolate,
Not yield them to despair,
For even amidst their low estate,
Some hearts their sufferings share.
And never your high task forget,
Till they are chainless—free!
Alas! that ye should be so met,
And I not with you be;
Yet sometimes when you thus are set,
One heart may turn to me.
Proclaims your victory won.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Red, Sparkling Wine
I Have Seen A Sight
Of a Man Falling Down …
… it wasn’t for a Fight
… but it was due to what He’d Found …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She Should Be A Crime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
She Starts out – Flowing – Smooth
Gets in Your Blood – Then You got Somethin’ to Prove!
You Chase Her Intoxicating Perfume
… must be Brand X … or Lady-Doom …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Feeling So Sublime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
… Sweet from the Vine, but She ain’t Vintage
Make You Loose Your Mind and Your Hard-Earned Wages
Her Cheap-Thrills… can’t Heal a Heart, that’s Bruised …
You ain’t in Love! … just in a Bottle of Booze …
of Red Sparkling Wine… Once in awhile is Fine
Red Sparkling Wine… Know the Warning Signs ….
of Red Sparkling Wine…
She’s Beautiful, as She Pours
Your Problems – Passed-Out, on The Floor
She’s Crystal-Blood in an Hour-Glass
Her Pity-Promises… just don’t Last…
Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She’ll have You begging for Dimes …
… to buy … Red Sparkling Wine…
She’ll leave You Broke, You won’t be able to Think
She’s ‘Madam Dope’ … if You Need One More Drink
… of Red Sparkling Wine… Just a Matter of Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Have Another… ‘ Cause I’m …
… Red Sparkling Wine …
poem by MoonBee Canady
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The First Light
The sun rose in all of its glory for all of us to see
But alas, the hustle and bustle of everyday life
Made us miss this wondrous show of beautiful light
Tomorrow may never come you see
So open the shades to the beautiful light
And remember who put this there for us to see
Can you imagine complete darkness
With no wondrous beauty from nature away from our sight
Please people, take time out to see this wondrous light
Before you fade and see the final light coming from our Savior.
poem by Bruce Horaz
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Ode to the boy from Dunblane
Neil Harman..
C hat Conversation Start
October 31
Hope life is treating you well Neil, looking forward to 2013 already in your company! Glad you were athe helm for andy's breakthrough this year! .
Thanks Simon. Was a spectacular year and it's not over yet. I'm busy writing a book about my experiences this year as well, so tremendously busy.Be nice to be able to catch up one day. Thanks for being such a committed supporter! .
Definitely would! Count me in for a book.
November 5
7: 49am
The Dunblane Diamond with racquet in hand, Cuts a swarthy, dashing figure across the land, The best of British, that much is true, but never a Grand Slam Champion, one of the special few. Despair turned to delight however this year, As Andy overcame his demons, Djokovic and own inner fear, Glory was his after a tense 5 hour fight. As he fell to his knees, such a beautiful sight. The sands of time no longer chime, as Andy will be remembered as a slam champion for all time, no more pain, sorrow or pangs of regret, Just a heartwarming feeling with each victorious set. We have taken the good and the bad times with equal measure, But to his millions of fans, Andy Murray is truly a national treasure
poem by Simon Thorpe
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New Year
Farewell to the old year forever,
And all its sorrows and care
We'll bury in our hearts, and endeavor
New troubles and trials to bear.
The old year has gone with its sadness,
In oblivion to dwell evermore;
The new year will come with its gladness,
To welcome the rich and the poor.
Ah, welcome the new year with pleasure,
And welcome home friends, that is dear;
Be happy and joyful together,
And greet each happy new year.
Some people will meet in sadness,
For death has entered their home,
And robbed them of joy and gladness,
And left them forsaken and lone.
Young people not meet it in sorrow,
For their hearts are blithesome and gay,
Trouble will come with to-morrow,
So let them be happy to- day.
Farewell to the old year forever;
Lay its sorrows aside with a tear.
Think of the future; and endeavor
To greet each happy new year.
poem by Julia A Moore
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