The Visionary
Silent is the house: all are laid asleep:
One alone looks out o’er the snow-wreaths deep,
Watching every cloud, dreading every breeze
That whirls the wildering drift, and bends the groaning trees.
Cheerful is the hearth, soft the matted floor;
Not one shivering gust creeps through pane or door;
The little lamp burns straight, its rays shoot strong and far:
I trim it well, to be the wanderer’s guiding-star.
Frown, my haughty sire! chide, my angry dame!
Set your slaves to spy; threaten me with shame:
But neither sire nor dame nor prying serf shall know,
What angel nightly tracks that waste of frozen snow.
What I love shall come like visitant of air,
Safe in secret power from lurking human snare;
What loves me, no word of mine shall e’er betray,
Though for faith unstained my life must forfeit pay.
Burn, then, little lamp; glimmer straight and clear—
Hush! a rustling wing stirs, methinks, the air:
He for whom I wait, thus ever comes to me;
Strange Power! I trust thy might; trust thou my constancy.
poem by Emily Jane Brontë
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Related quotes
The Visionary
Silent is the house: all are laid asleep:
One alone looks out o'er the snow-wreaths deep,
Watching every cloud, dreading every breeze
That whirls the wildering drift, and bends the groaning trees.
Cheerful is the hearth, soft the matted floor;
Not one shivering gust creeps through pane or door;
The little lamp burns straight, its rays shoot strong and far:
I trim it well, to be the wanderer's guiding-star.
Frown, my haughty sire! chide, my angry dame!
Set your slaves to spy; threaten me with shame:
But neither sire nor dame, nor prying serf shall know,
What angel nightly tracks that waste of frozen snow.
What I love shall come like visitant of air,
Safe in secret power from lurking human snare;
What loves me, no word of mine shall e'er betray,
Though for faith unstained my life must forfeit pay.
Burn, then, little lamp; glimmer straight and clear—
Hush! a rustling wing stirs, methinks, the air:
He for whom I wait, thus ever comes to me;
Strange Power! I trust thy might; trust thou my constancy.
poem by Emily Brontë from Selections from the literary remains of Emily and Anne Brontë (1850)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Song Of The Evergreens
Listen to the briskly whistling winter evergreen
Whispering through the frozen morning light
And tell me whats to come
Saying my time is near
Never fear
I close each year
Im winter
Reminding me to trade my t-shirts for my woven wools
Trade my sandals for my skis
Whispered warnings in the wind
Saying soon come the dancing snowflakes
Theyre kissing every tree
Theyre kissing you and me
Please hurry
Falling
Dazzling dancing diamonds from the sky
Prisms
Rainbow sparkled flurries in our eyes
Whipping across the frozen crystal meadow
Pond of ice
Race the snow
Well build a warming fire there
And cuddle close and wine and dine
The setting sun
The morning light will find us high
Shooting down the glistening mountain side
Screaming through the whispering pines
The freedom of each day
Will cleanse our minds
I can hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
I can hardly hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
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song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Lamp In Us!
The small lamp commenced to burn,
When two bodies united as one,
From the day one until the day yet to know,
The lamp burns slowly in the spirit of ions.
Keeping the lamp safe from rough climes,
Protecting the yarn from the heavy dye,
Nourishing the lamp with fuels approved,
The lamp may burn quietly as expected.
we let it burn with bigger flame,
By adding steroidal fuels and nocturnal fun,
we let the motor to run in higher speed,
by pressing the temptation to accelerate.
The lamp may start to play snake and ladder,
By climbing up and down at the dice of illnesses,
Sometimes gets overheated to jam up the motor,
Hold your lamp lovingly for it to glow pleasantly.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Flower
How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean
Are thy returns! ev'n as the flowers in spring;
To which, besides their own demean,
The late-past frosts tributes of pleasures bring.
Grief melts away
Like snow in May,
As if there were no such cold thing.
Who would have thought my shrivl'd heart
Could have recover'd greenness? It was gone
Quite under ground; as flowers depart
To see their mother-root, when they have blown;
Where they together
All the hard weather
Dead to the world, keep house unknown.
These are thy wonders, Lord of power,
Killing and quickning, bringing down to hell
And up to heaven in an hour;
Making a chiming of a passing-bell.
We say amiss,
This or that is:
Thy word is all, if we could spell.
O that I once past changing were,
Fast in thy Paradise, where no flower can wither!
Many a spring I shoot up fair,
Off'ring at heav'n, growing and groaning thither:
Nor doth my flower
Want a spring-shower,
My sins and I joining together:
But while I grow in a straight line,
Still upwards bent, as if heav'n were mine own,
Thy anger comes, and I decline:
What frost to that? what pole is not the zone,
Where all things burn,
When thou dost turn,
And the least frown of thine is shown?
And now in age I bud again,
After so many deaths I live and write;
I once more smell the dew and rain,
And relish versing: O my only light,
It cannot be
That I am her
On whom thy tempests fell all night.
These are thy wonders, Lord of love,
To make us see we are but flowers that glide:
Which when we once can find and prove,
Thou hast a garden for us, where to bide.
Who would be more,
Swelling through store,
Forfeit their Paradise by their pride.
poem by George Herbert
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I Shall Never Love the Snow Again
I never shall love the snow again
Since Maurice died:
With corniced drift it blocked the lane,
And sheeted in a desolate plain
The country side.
The trees with silvery rime bedight
Their branches bare.
By day no sun appeared; by night
The hidden moon shed thievish light
In the misty air.
We fed the birds that flew around
In flocks to be fed:
No shelter in holly or brake they found,
The speckled thrush on the frozen ground
Lay frozen and dead.
We skated on stream and pond; we cut
The crinching snow
To Doric temple or Arctic hut;
We laughed and sang at nightfall, shut
By the fireside glow.
Yet grudged we our keen delights before
Maurice should come.
We said, 'In-door or out-of-door
We shall love life for a month or more,
When he is home.'
They brought him home; 'twas two days late
For Christmas Day:
Wrapped in white, in solemn state,
A flower in his hand, all still and straight
Our Maurice lay.
And two days ere the year outgave
We laid him low.
The best of us truly were not brave,
When we laid Maurice down in his grave
Under the snow.
poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
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The Crossing Line
Split down the middle
two hearts
beat for love,
trespassing vows
that betray trust,
to find a balance
without destroying
their other halves
Two lines crossed
in secret,
betray trust
to find the balance between,
trespassed vows
Two hearts
yearning for love,
betray trust
to yearn for love
Two lovers
torn apart,
betray one another
to repair the trust
they have broken
Two loves
now irreparable,
inconsolable,
loose loves luster,
never again, to shine.
Copyright ©2006
poem by Adryan Rotica
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Who Do You Trust
Fire and ice
Why dont we just throw in the dice
Hot or cold
I never know which way you may go
Follow me follow me
I have waited too long to see
Problems are problems
The truth is our security
(chorus)
Its my life, I cant waist the time
Ive made my decision, so lets lay it on the line(oh baby)
Who do you trust if you cant trust me
Im the one who loves you
Who do you trust if you cant trust me
Im the one who loves you
If you stay
Ill just try to make you aware Ill
be gone, if it dont get no better
Human hearts can only take so much
Faith is my condition if you want to keep in touch(oh baby)
Who do you trust if you cant trust me
Im the one who loves you
Who do you trust if you cant trust me
Im the one who loves you
(bridge)
Who do you trust Who do you trust
If you cant trust me
Who do you trust who do you trust
If you cant trust me
Its my life, I cant waste the time
Ive made my decision
So lets lay it on the line(oh baby)
(chorus..adlibs...fade)
written by David Batteau and Danny Sembello
song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ringleted Youth Of My Love
RINGLETED youth of my love,
With thy locks bound loosely behind thee,
You passed by the road above,
But you never came in to find me;
Where were the harm for you
If you came for a little to see me,
Your kiss is a wakening dew
Were I ever so ill or so dreamy.
If I had golden store
I would make a nice little boreen,
To lead straight up to his door,
The door of the house of my stóreen;
Hoping to God not to miss
The sound of his footfall in it,
I have waited so long for his kiss
That for days I have not slept a minute.
I thought, oh my love! you were so—
As the moon is, or the sun on a fountain,
And I thought after that you were snow,
The cold snow on the top of the mountain;
And I thought after that you were more
Like God’s lamp shining to find me,
Or the bright star of knowledge before,
And the star of knowledge behind me.
You promised me high-heeled shoes,
And satin and silk, my stóreen,
And to follow me, never to lose,
Though the ocean were round us roaring;
Like a bush in a gap in a wall
I am now left lonely without thee,
And this house I grow dead of, is all
That I see around or about me.
poem by Douglas Hyde
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Second Birth
Through faith, to God we show true worth
His Lamp then leads to second birth
But not a birth as most presume
We need no more a mother’s womb
The Lord Himself will dwell within
His Holy Flame convicts of sin
The eyes of God compute each thought
In all who trust His true report
With peace and joy He comes from high
The answers to what, to where and why
Power; through grace that none should boast
God’s Guiding Lamp His Holy Ghost
This second chance to live, is free
The price was paid on Calvary
In truth; Christ came to die on earth
That man may live through second birth
Upon the tree Christ bore all shame
That man may bear a brand new name
God’s blood seeped neath the cursed ground
So guilt in man may not be found
In Jesus’ death is Heaven’s door
God opened wide when curtains tore
His precious blood cleans spot and stain
So God may hear from man again
When Christ man laid within the tomb
It served God’s purpose as a womb
When Christ arose from neath the earth
He stood as first with second birth
In Jesus Christ, the same we’ll share
When all life’s cares to Him we bear
When humble hearts see Heaven’s Door
We’ll enter through and die no more...
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Blade O' Grass
Poking out through melting snow
from thawing frozen earth.
Timidly a new life peeks
in the newness of spring.
As temperate vernal days drift by.
It drinks the rays of summer sun.
Growing tall standing strong
still velvet soft to shoeless toe.
Yet if rendered asunder
such fragrance it yields.
So subtlety sweet its gift.
Mother Nature's humble.
Blade o' grass.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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A Psalm For New Year’s Eve
A FRIEND stands at the door;
In either tight-closed hand
Hiding rich gifts, three hundred and three score:
Waiting to strew them daily o'er the land
Even as seed the sower.
Each drops he, treads it in and passes by:
It cannot be made fruitful till it die.
O good New Year, we clasp
This warm shut hand of thine,
Loosing forever, with half sigh, half gasp,
That which from ours falls like dead fingers' twine:
Ay, whether fierce its grasp
Has been, or gentle, having been, we know
That it was blessed: let the Old Year go.
O New Year, teach us faith!
The road of life is hard:
When our feet bleed and scourging winds us scathe,
Point thou to Him whose visage was more marred
Than any man's: who saith
'Make straight paths for your feet'--and to the opprest--
'Come ye to Me, and I will give you rest.'
Yet hang some lamp-like hope
Above this unknown way,
Kind year, to give our spirits freer scope
And our hands strength to work while it is day.
But if that way must slope
Tombward, O bring before our fading eyes
The lamp of life, the Hope that never dies.
Comfort our souls with love,--
Love of all human kind;
Love special, close--in which like sheltered dove
Each weary heart its own safe nest may find;
And love that turns above
Adoringly; contented to resign
All loves, if need be, for the Love Divine.
Friend, come thou like a friend,
And whether bright thy face,
Or dim with clouds we cannot comprehend,--
We'll hold out patient hands, each in his place,
And trust thee to the end.
Knowing thou leadest onwards to those spheres
Where there are neither days nor months nor years.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Ghosts
I to a crumpled cabin came
upon a hillside high,
And with me was a withered dame
As weariful as I.
"It used to be our home," she said;
"How well I remember well!
Oh that our happy hearth should be
Today an empty shell!"
The door was flailing in the storm
That deafed us with its din;
The roof that kept us once so warm
Now let the snow-drift in.
The floor sagged to the sod below,
The walls caved crazily;
We only heard the wind of woe
Where once was glow and glee.
So there we stood disconsolate
Beneath the Midnight Dome,
And ancient miner and his mate,
Before our wedded home,
Where we had know such love and cheer . . .
I sighed, then soft she said:
"Do not regret - remember, dear,
We, too, are dead."
poem by Robert William Service
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Fourth Sunday After Epiphany
They know the Almighty's power,
Who, wakened by the rushing midnight shower,
Watch for the fitful breeze
To howl and chafe amid the bending trees,
Watch for the still white gleam
To bathe the landscape in a fiery stream,
Touching the tremulous eye with sense of light
Too rapid and too pure for all but angel sight.
They know the Almighty's love,
Who, when the whirlwinds rock the topmost grove,
Stand in the shade, and hear
The tumult with a deep exulting fear,
How, in their fiercest sway,
Curbed by some power unseen, they die away,
Like a bold steed that owns his rider's arm,
Proud to be checked and soothed by that o'er-mastering chains.
But there are storms within
That heave the struggling heart with wilder din,
And there is power and love
The maniac's rushing frenzy to reprove,
And when he takes his seat,
Clothed and in calmness, at his Savour's feet,
Is not the power as strange, the love as blest,
As when He said, "Be still," and ocean sank to rest?
Woe to the wayward heart,
That gladlier turns to eye the shuddering start
Of Passion in her might,
Than marks the silent growth of grace and light; -
Pleased in the cheerless tomb
To linger, while the morning rays illume
Green lake, and cedar tuft, and spicy glade,
Shaking their dewy tresses now the storm is laid.
The storm is laid--and now
In His meek power He climbs the mountain's brow,
Who bade the waves go sleep,
And lashed the vexed fiends to their yawning deep.
How on a rock they stand,
Who watch His eye, and hold His guiding hand!
Not half so fixed, amid her vassal hills,
Rises the holy pile that Kedron's valley fills.
And wilt thou seek again
Thy howling waste, thy charnel-house and chain,
And with the demons be,
Rather than clasp thine own Deliverer's knee?
Sure 'tis no Heaven-bred awe
That bids thee from His healing touch withdraw;
The world and He are struggling in thine heart,
And in thy reckless mood thou bidd'st thy Lord depart.
He, merciful and mild,
As erst, beholding, loves His wayward child;
When souls of highest birth
Waste their impassioned might on dreams of earth,
He opens Nature's book,
And on His glorious Gospel bids them look,
Till, by such chords as rule the choirs above,
Their lawless cries are tuned to hymns of perfect love.
poem by John Keble
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Trust Trust
Trust trust many have found
Trust trust no where around
Trust trust is what many say
Trust trust here i lay
Trust trust in my ear
Trust trust i cant find you my dear
Trust trust is hard to find
Trust trust are you apart of mankind
Trust trust im calling to you
Trust trust please give me a clue
Trust trust i need my love
Trust trust she came from up above
Trust trust what do i do
Trust trust do i believe my boo
Trust trust am i right
Trust trust please show me the light
Trust trust your driving me crazy
Trust trust your just to hazy
Trust trust i will find you
Trust trust i will never find anew
Trust trust help me out
Trust trust cause with this love i dont want to wipeout
Trust trust sarah's is my heart
Trust trust she's a beauty of art
poem by Cody Fortner
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I Will Wait Forever For You
You say there’s nothing I can do
but i say to you i can do for you
You say that friends is all we’ll ever be
but i am say you are my friend like angel
But human being, if you just take my hand
And trust in me and me trust in you
I will take you to a far away every place
Somewhere you’ve never been
I will wait forever.untill i am die
And if that day is never comes
My life will not be a waste
Because I can say 'i love you'
That I waited all my life
For the one I love to you
poem by Khushi throne
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Snow
'Who affirms that crystals are alive?'
I affirm it, let who will deny:
Crystals are engendered, wax and thrive,
Wane and wither; I have seen them die.
Trust me, masters, crystals have their day,
Eager to attain the perfect norm,
Lit with purpose, potent to display
Facet, angle, colour, beauty, form.
Water-crystals need for flower and root
Sixty clear degrees, no less, no more;
Snow, so fickle, still in this acute
Angle thinks, and learns no other lore:
Such its life, and such its pleasure is,
Such its art and traffic, such its gain,
Evermore in new conjunctions this
Admirable angle to maintain.
Crystalcraft in every flower and flake
Snow exhibits, of the welkin free:
Crystalline are crystals for the sake,
All and singular, of crystalry.
Yet does every crystal of the snow
Individualize, a seedling sown
Broadcast, but instinct with power to grow
Beautiful in beauty of its own.
Every flake with all its prongs and dints
Burns ecstatic as a new-lit star:
Men are not more diverse, finger prints
More dissimilar than snow-flakes are.
Worlds of men and snow endure, increase,
Woven of power and passion to defy
Time and travail: only races cease,
Individual men and crystals die.
poem by John Davidson
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Winter Wonderland
There are strange and mysterious sounds
When the winds of winter blow,
The long nights are crystal clear and cold,
And the fields and meadows are covered with snow.
The stars are frosty against the sky,
And the wind's whistle is shrill,
As the snow blows against the house
And drifts against the hill.
Yet, I like to see during the winter
A white carpet on the ground,
To plod aimlessly in the deep snow,
where deer tracks abound.
I like to feel the stillness
Of a crisp winter's night,
Watching a full moon rise over the horizon,
Exposing a winter wonderland beautiful and bright.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi
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In The Dusky Path Of A Dream
IN the dusky path of a dream I went to seek the love who was mine in a former life.
Her house stood at the end of a desolate street.
In the evening breeze her pet peacock sat drowsing on its perch, and the pigeons were silent in their corner.
She set her lamp down by the portal and stood before me.
She raised her large eyes to my face and mutely asked, 'Are you well, my friend?'
I tried to answer, but our language had been lost and forgotten.
I thought and thought; our names would not come to my mind.
Tears shone in her eyes. She held up her right hand to me. I took it and stood silent.
Our lamp had flickered in the evening breeze and died.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Roscoe
He was the best dog we ever had. He was loving, outgoing and he was
always there waging his tail, and licking your face when you were sad.
He loved playing in the snow, he had always left a straight line in the
snow where he had run. he had made the most beautiful babies that I
had ever seen before. I see him in maggie everyday. Roscoe i miss you so much, it's so different here without you running around the house. I miss you so much, so does everyone in the house. I'm pretty sure that the other dogs were looking for you when you were gone. You were as white as the snow and that's why when, winter came around it was so hard to find you well we sometimes just followed the straight line in the snow. Roscoe I hope you are having fun in heaven, don't eat too much. I still miss you.
poem by Danielle Elsworth
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The Power Of Love
I think that somewhere along the line
(and it's said, all things return to you in time)
I must have finally opened up to your love
Though i was building a wall at heaven's gate
(everything comes to those who wait)
You must have found a secret path into my soul
And now you're part of my life
I can't believe that this is mine
Every light has its time to shine
I want to understand this change in me
Is it the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is this the tao of love
I feel the power of love
Caught up in the famous paper chase
(in your eyes, i saw how i never fell from grace)
I must have finally opened up to your love
And i heard the battle's not always to the strong
(the race is not always to the fleet)
And the one who seeks to pluck the stars
Will miss the jewels at his feet
Blinded by momentary power
We almost had the final hour
I'll never know what caused the change in me
Was it the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is this the tao of love
I feel the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is this the tao of love
I feel the power of love
And i thought anything for the cause is worth the price
(losing you was the sharp edge of the knife)
Now no more fear, the way is clear
I know you are the power in my life
So better late than never
'cause this heart is yours forever
I'll never know what caused the change in me
Was it the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is this the tao of love
I feel the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is it the power of love
Is this the tao of love
I feel the power of love
I think that somewhere along the line
(and it's said all things return to you in time)
I must have finally opened up to your love
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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