Truth
A rock, for ages, stern and high,
Stood frowning 'gainst the earth and sky,
And never bowed his haughty crest
When angry storms around him prest.
Morn, springing from the arms of night,
Had often bathed his brow with light.
And kissed the shadows from his face
With tender love and gentle grace.
Day, pausing at the gates of rest,
Smiled on him from the distant West,
And from her throne the dark-browed Night
Threw round his path her softest light.
And yet he stood unmoved and proud,
Nor love, nor wrath, his spirit bowed;
He bared his brow to every blast
And scorned the tempest as it passed.
One day a tiny, humble seed --
The keenest eye would hardly heed --
Fell trembling at that stern rock's base,
And found a lowly hiding-place.
A ray of light, and drop of dew,
Came with a message, kind and true;
They told her of the world so bright,
Its love, its joy, and rosy light,
And lured her from her hiding-place,
To gaze upon earth's glorious face.
So, peeping timid from the ground,
She clasped the ancient rock around,
And climbing up with childish grace,
She held him with a close embrace;
Her clinging was a thing of dread;
Where'er she touched a fissure spread,
And he who'd breasted many a storm
Stood frowning there, a mangled form;
A Truth, dropped in the silent earth,
May seem a thing of little worth,
Till, spreading round some mighty wrong,
It saps its pillars proud and strong,
And o'er the fallen ruin weaves
The brightest blooms and fairest leaves.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Hiding Place
Hail sov'reign love that first began,
The scheme to rescue fallen man;
Hail matchless, free, eternal grace,
That gave my soul a Hiding-Place.
Against the God that rules the sky,
I fought with hands uplifted high;
Despis'd the mentions of his grace,
Too proud to seek a Hiding-Place.
Enwrapt in thick Egyptian night,
And fond of darkness more than light,
Madly I ran the sinful race,
Secure without a Hiding-Place.
But thus the eternal counsel ran,
Almighty Love arrest that man;
I felt the arrows of distress,
And saw that I'd no Hiding-Place.
Indignant Justice stood in view,
To Sina's fiery mount I flew;
But Justice cry'd with frowning face,
This mountain is no Hiding-Place.
Ere long a Heav'nly voice I heard,
And Mercy's angel form appear'd,
She led me on with placid pace,
To Jesus as my Hiding-Place.
Should storms of sevenfold thunder roll,
And shake the globe from pole to pole,
No flaming bolt should daunt my face,
For Jesus is my Hiding-Place.
On him almighty vengeance fell,
That must have sunk the world to hell:
He bore it for the chosen race,
And thus became their Hiding-Place.
A few more rolling suns at most,
Shall land us on fair Canaan's coast,
Where we shall sing the song of grace,
And see our glorious Hiding-Place.
poem by Major Henry Livingston Jr.
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Saving Grace
Without direction I walk the night
I was alone in a single beam of light
One glance and you changed my blues
To a prism of light
A thousand hues
Now I must climb to the rainbows arc
Who knows I might find a halo for your heart
Whenever I'm lost for words
And my whole world is falling apart
You are my saving grace
You are the light of a love everlasting
I find hiding place
In your arms
My one and only
Saving grace
My saving grace
I fought the world with a restless heart
Kept my emotions locked away in the dark
Then you came to build me up
When this world could only tear me apart
You are my saving grace
You are the light of a love everlasting
And I find hiding place in your arms
My one and only
Saving grace
For the rest of your life
You can count on me
To never let you down
When you whisper to me
You give me strength to believe that I can hold on
Somehow
You are my saving grace
You are the light of a love everlasting
I find a hiding place
In your arms
My one and only
Saving grace
You are my light and my love everlasting
And I find a hiding place
In your arms
My one and only
Saving grace
My saving grace....
My saving grace
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like A Rock
Words and music by bob seger
Stood there boldly
Sweatin in the sun
Felt like a million
Felt like number one
The height of summer
Id never felt that strong
Like a rock
I was eighteen
Didnt have a care
Working for peanuts
Not a dime to spare
But I was lean and
Solid everywhere
Like a rock
My hands were steady
My eyes were clear and bright
My walk had purpose
My steps were quick and light
And I held firmly
To what I felt was right
Like a rock
Like a rock, I was strong as I could be
Like a rock, nothin ever got to me
Like a rock, I was something to see
Like a rock
And I stood arrow straight
Unencumbered by the weight
Of all these hustlers and their schemes
I stood proud, I stood tall
High above it all
I still believed in my dreams
Twenty years now
Whered they go?
Twenty years
I dont know
Sit and I wonder sometimes
Where theyve gone
And sometimes late at night
When Im bathed in the firelight
The moon comes callin a ghostly white
And I recall
Recall
Like a rock. standin arrow straight
Like a rock, chargin from the gate
Like a rock, carryin the weight
Like a rock
Lihe a rock, the sun upon my skin
Like a rock, hard against the wind
Like a rock, I see myself again
Like a rock
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Nell
GLEAMING through the silent church-yard,
Winter sunlight seemed to shed
Golden shadows like soft blessings
O'er a quiet little bed,
Where a pale face lay unheeding
Tender tears that o'er it fell;
No sorrow now could touch the heart
Of gentle little Nell.
Ah, with what silent patient strength
The frail form lying there
Had borne its heavy load of grief,
Of loneliness and care.
Now, earthly burdens were laid down,
And on the meek young face
There shone a holier loveliness
Than childhood's simple grace.
Beset with sorrow, pain and fear,
Tempted by want and sin,
With none to guide or counsel her
But the brave child-heart within.
Strong in her fearless, faithful love,
Devoted to the last,
Unfaltering through gloom and gleam
The little wanderer passed.
Hand in hand they journeyed on
Through pathways strange and wild,
The gray-haired, feeble, sin-bowed man
Led by the noble child.
So through the world's dark ways she passed,
Till o'er the church-yard sod,
To the quiet spot where they found rest,
Those little feet had trod.
To that last resting-place on earth
Kind voices bid her come,
There her long wanderings found an end,
And weary Nell a home.
A home whose light and joy she was,
Though on her spirit lay
A solemn sense of coming change,
That deepened day by day.
There in the church-yard, tenderly,
Through quiet summer hours,
Above the poor neglected graves
She planted fragrant flowers.
The dim aisles of the ruined church
Echoed the child's light tread,
And flickering sunbeams thro' the leaves
Shone on her as she read.
And here where a holy silence dwelt,
And golden shadows fell,
When Death's mild face had looked on her,
They laid dear happy Nell.
Long had she wandered o'er the earth,
One hand to the old man given,
By the other angels led her on
Up a sunlit path to Heaven.
Oh! 'patient, loving, noble Nell,'
Like light from sunset skies,
The beauty of thy sinless life
Upon the dark world lies.
On thy sad story, gentle child,
Dim eyes will often dwell,
And loving hearts will cherish long
The memory of Nell.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Musings
I sat by my window one night,
And watched how the stars grew high;
And the earth and skies were a splendid sight
To a sober and musing eye.
From heaven the silver moon shone down
With gentle and mellow ray,
And beneath the crowded roofs of the town
In broad light and shadow lay.
A glory was on the silent sea,
And mainland and island too,
Till a haze came over the lowland lea,
And shrouded that beautiful blue.
Bright in the moon the autumn wood
Its crimson scarf unrolled,
And the trees like a splendid army stood
In a panoply of gold!
I saw them waving their banners high,
As their crests to the night wind bowed,
And a distant sound on the air went by,
Like the whispering of a crowd.
Then I watched from my window how fast
The lights all around me fled,
As the wearied man to his slumber passed
And the sick one to his bed.
All faded save one, that burned
With distant and steady light;
But that, too, went out -- and I turned
Where my own lamp within shone bright!
Thus, thought I, our joys must die,
Yes -- the brightest from earth we win:
Till each turns away, with a sign,
To the lamp that burns brightly within.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Lakeside
The shadows round the inland sea
Are deepening into night;
Slow up the slopes of Ossipee
They chase the lessening light.
Tired of the long day's blinding heat,
I rest my languid eye,
Lake of the Hills! where, cool and sweet,
Thy sunset waters lie!
Along the sky, in wavy lines,
O'er isle and reach and bay,
Green-belted with eternal pines,
The mountains stretch away.
Below, the maple masses sleep
Where shore with water blends,
While midway on the tranquil deep
The evening light descends.
So seemed it when yon hill's red crown,
Of old, the Indian trod,
And, through the sunset air, looked down
Upon the Smile of God.
To him of light and shade the laws
No forest skeptic taught;
Their living and eternal Cause
His truer instinct sought.
He saw these mountains in the light
Which now across them shines;
This lake, in summer sunset bright,
Walled round with sombering pines.
God near him seemed; from earth and skies
His loving voice he beard,
As, face to face, in Paradise,
Man stood before the Lord.
Thanks, O our Father! that, like him,
Thy tender love I see,
In radiant hill and woodland dim,
And tinted sunset sea.
For not in mockery dost Thou fill
Our earth with light and grace;
Thou hid'st no dark and cruel will
Behind Thy smiling face!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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The Chase of Ages
Light of my lives! Is the time not yet?
Lo, I've brooded on a star
Through many a year, with the hope held dear
That, in some future far,
I would know the joy of a love returned.
Are my lives lived vainly, all?
Since that cosmic morn when life, now-born,
First moved on this mundane ball?
Yea, I mind it yet, when first we met
On a tertiary rock,
Flow the graceful charm of your rudiments
Imparted love's first shock.
But I was a mere organic cell
In that early eocene,
While you were a prim, primordial germ,
And the mother of protogene.
So I loved and died, and the ages sped
Till the time of my second birth;
When I took my place in the cosmic race,
And again came down to earth.
Once more we met. Ah, love, not yet!
You were far above my state!
For how could I raise my mollusc gaze
To a virtuous vertebrate?
Again we died, and again we slept,
And again we came to be
I as an anthropoidal ape,
And you as a chimpanzee.
You as a charming chimpanzee,
With a high, patrician air;
And I watched you waltz from tree to tree
As I slunk in my lowly lair.
And yet again, in an age or so,
We met, and I mind the sob
I sobbed when I found that I was what?
And you were a thingumbob.
You had sold your tail for a kind of soul,
You had grown two thumbs beside;
And I knew again that my love was vain,
So I went to the woods and died.
As a humble homunculus, later on,
I crept to your cave at night,
And howled long, love-lorn howls in vain
To my lady troglodyte.
And I grew insane at your cold disdain,
And my howlings filled the place,
Till your father sought me out one night,
And - again I yearned in space.
Then, light of my lives! Is the time not yet?
say, in what distant life
In what dim age that is still to come
May I win and call you wife?
Still high above! My love, my love!
Nay, how can I raise my eyes
To you, my star of the eocene,
My e'er elusive prize?
Lo, Time speeds on, and the suns grow cold,
And the earth infirm and hoar,
And, ages past, we are here at last
Ay, both on the earth once more.
But, alas, dear heart, as far apart
As e'er in this cosmic whirl;
For I'm but a lowly writer-man
And you are a tea-room girl.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Huron Chief’s Daughter
The dusky warriors stood in groups around the funeral pyre,
The scowl upon their knotted brows betrayed their vengeful ire.
It needed not the cords, the stake, the rites so stern and rude,
To tell it was to be a scene of cruelty and blood.
Yet ’mid those guilt-stained men could any vile enough be found
To harm the victim who there stood, in helpless thraldom bound?
A girl of slight and fragile form, of gentle child-like grace,
Though woman’s earnest thoughtfulness beamed in that sweet young face.
Oh! lovely was that winsome child of a dark and rugged line,
And e’en mid Europe’s daughters fair, surpassing might she shine:
For ne’er had coral lips been wreathed by brighter, sunnier smile,
Or dark eyes beamed with lustrous light, more full of winsome wile.
With glowing cheek and curving lip, she stood, in silent pride,
A queen in simple majesty, though captive bound and tied,
Nor could that sight of death, though fit to turn a strong heart weak,
Chase back the deep scorn from her brow, the color from her cheek.
And, yet, it was not wonderful, that haughty, high-born grace,
She stood amid her direst foes, a Princess of her race;
Knowing they’d met to wreak on her their hatred ’gainst her name,
To doom her to a fearful death, to pangs of fire and flame.
But, mindful of the teachings stern of childhood’s early years,
She had firmly vowed no plaints of hers, or womanish weak tears
Would glad her foes but, as became her rank and lineage high,
That she would, like a Huron maid, nobly and bravely die.
One moment,—then her proud glance fled, her form she humbly bowed,
A softened light stole o’er her brow, she prayed to heaven aloud:
“Hear me, Thou Great and Glorious One, Protector of my race,
Whom, in the far-off Spirit land, I’ll soon see face to face!
”Pour down Thy blessings on my tribe, may they triumphant rise
Above the guileful Iroquois—Thine and our enemies;
And give me strength to bear each pang with courage high and free,
That, dying thus, I may be fit to reign, oh God! with Thee.“
Her prayer was ended, and again, like crowned and sceptred Queen,
She wore anew her lofty smile, her high and royal mien,
E’en though the Chief the signal gave, and quick two warriors dire,
Sprang forth to lead the dauntless girl to the lit funeral pyre.
Back, with an eye of flashing scorn, recoiled she from their grasp,
”Nay, touch me not, I’d rather meet the coil of poisoned asp!
My aged sire, and all my tribe will learn with honest pride
That, as befits a Huron’s child, their chieftain’s daughter died!“
She dashed aside her tresses dark with bright and fearless smile,
And like a fawn she bounded on the fearful funeral pile;
And even while those blood-stained men fulfilled their cruel part
They praised that maiden’s courage rare, her high and dauntless heart.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Mother Dawn
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn
Mother dawn
Dancing round the fire
Circling the flame
Listen to the shadows calling out my name
They say
Rock me like a baby
Cradle me in the light
Bathe me in a rainbow
Sun restore my sight
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn (all night long yeah)
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me (all night long yeah)
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn
Look into the light
Come and take a journey through the land of night
Darkness strokes the face and
Steals away the sight
Night is all around me
Stars are in my hair
I feel them tangled in the secrets well
Find hidden there all right
Reaching through the madness
To the other side
Where the sun is rising
With her arms held wide
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn (all night long yeah)
(till the dawn light comes)
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me (all night long yeah)
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn (all night long)
(I know youre gonna love me)
(I know youre gonna love me)
One star flew against the tapestry of the night
And the earth revolved in perfect symmetry
To a symphony of sun
The moon danced its final bow
As the birth of day
Exploded
In my eyes
Reaching through the madness
To the other side
Where the sun is rising
With her arms held wide
Rock me like a baby
Cradle me in light
Youre gonna bathe me in a rainbow
And the sun restore my sight
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn
Hold me, hold me (all night long yeah)
Breathe the light into me
(till the dawn light comes yeah)
Hold me, hold me (all night long yeah)
Mother dawn (I know youre gonna love me yeah)
I know youre
Gonna love me
All night long yeah
Till the dawn light comes
All night long yeah
I know youre gonna love me love me
All night long yeah
Till the dawn light comes
All night long yeah
I know youre gonna love me love me
Mother dawn
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart's Embrace
for ever shall this curse me?
this fire with it's amazing warmth and beauty
for ever shall i see you in the sky
ur shinning light of care, a lie?
for you will chose the moon, to let your soul fly
she is beautiful how ever am i to deny
im just the water, within the earths embrace
im a silvery thing attached to the moon with a thin lace
for ever shall i see the face
the shinning light above this place
you will choose the moon, to let your hearts combined
in not in the air or the sky, i can see you sun; i am not blind
my moon my moon hear me do you mind?
i am here and you are there; and your smiling so kind.
i am just a moving mirror, reflecting your light
within my beloved earths embrace day and night
could you forgive me my moon for my fright?
could you forgive me my earth for my delight?
could you love me the same my moon?
could you still smile down on me, if you knew my heart's boon?
could you hold me the same my earth, in your embrace if i sang a new tune?
coul you still fill me with light my sun, and sing attune?
for i should not ask for such things
i should answer all of the with great greetings
my moon, my dearest light of silver lace, you should not know of my ravings
my earth my dearest earth with your loving embrace, you shouldnt know of my quislings.
this should haunt me no more
its been open my moon, your magic door
so in twilight that is yet to come, you my moon and my sun may adore
and ill be here your mirror in my earth embrace, hiding my watery hearts face forever more
poem by Elenore Elizabeth
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From The Cantata For N. F. S. Grundtvig
His day was the greatest the Northland has seen,
It one was with the midnight-sun's wonders serene:
The light wherein he sat was the light of God's true peace,
And that has never morning, nor night when it must cease.
In light of God's peace shone the
history
he gave,
The spirit's course on earth that shall conquer the grave.
Might of God's pure peace thus our
fathers'
mighty way
Before us for example and warning open lay.
In light of God's peace he beheld with watchful eye
The people at their work and the spirit's strivings high.
In light of God's pure peace he would have all learning glow,
And where his word is honored the 'Folk-High-Schools' must grow.
In light of God's peace stood 'mid sorrow and care
For Denmark's folk his comfort, a castle strong and fair;
In light of God's pure peace there shall once again be won
And thousand-fold increased, what seems lost now and undone.
In light of God's peace stands his patriarch-worth,
The sum and the amen of a manful life on earth.
In light of God's pure peace how his face shone, lifted up,
When white-haired at the altar he held th' atoning cup.
In light of God's peace came his word o'er the wave,
In light of God's pure peace sound the sweet psalms he gave.
In light of God's pure peace, as its sunbeam curtains fall
To hide him from us, stands now his memory for all.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Days To Come
This day is the Day of Grace, a time all men can seek the face,
The face of the Lord above, to embrace God’s Awesome Love,
Love He displayed in His Son, who came to earth for everyone,
Every man, woman and nation, to bring to them, His Salvation,
Salvation offered to all today, in Christ, The Truth and The Way.
The Day of Christ is next for us, who in Christ, place their trust,
When He comes for all of those, who believe in Him, who rose,
To meet us up in the clouds, with many other Heavenly crowds,
When He raptures all His own, to take us to our Heavenly home,
Where we’ll be forevermore, with the Father and Christ our Lord.
And then the Day of The Lord; when The Lord’s wrath is poured,
Down on all unrighteousness, destroyed by His Righteousness,
Falling under His righteous wrath; those who chose an evil path,
They’ll see God’s stern reproof, for dismissing God’s only Truth,
As the coming of Christ alone, displays the power of His Throne.
And finally, the Day of God, will change forever this earthly sod,
As a new Heaven and new earth, is established, of eternal worth,
Purged forever shall be all sin, as Eternity, by God is ushered in,
Making all as He intended it to be, not for a time, but for eternity,
And for you to enjoy this place, believe now in the Day of Grace.
(Copyright ©01/2008)
Two Look at Two
Love and forgetting might have carried them
A little further up the mountain side
With night so near, but not much further up.
They must have halted soon in any case
With thoughts of a path back, how rough it was
With rock and washout, and unsafe in darkness;
When they were halted by a tumbled wall
With barbed-wire binding. They stood facing this,
Spending what onward impulse they still had
In One last look the way they must not go,
On up the failing path, where, if a stone
Or earthslide moved at night, it moved itself;
No footstep moved it. 'This is all,' they sighed,
Good-night to woods.' But not so; there was more.
A doe from round a spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall, as near the wall as they.
She saw them in their field, they her in hers.
The difficulty of seeing what stood still,
Like some up-ended boulder split in two,
Was in her clouded eyes; they saw no fear there.
She seemed to think that two thus they were safe.
Then, as if they were something that, though strange,
She could not trouble her mind with too long,
She sighed and passed unscared along the wall.
'This, then, is all. What more is there to ask?'
But no, not yet. A snort to bid them wait.
A buck from round the spruce stood looking at them
Across the wall as near the wall as they.
This was an antlered buck of lusty nostril,
Not the same doe come back into her place.
He viewed them quizzically with jerks of head,
As if to ask, 'Why don't you make some motion?
Or give some sign of life? Because you can't.
I doubt if you're as living as you look."
Thus till he had them almost feeling dared
To stretch a proffering hand -- and a spell-breaking.
Then he too passed unscared along the wall.
Two had seen two, whichever side you spoke from.
'This must be all.' It was all. Still they stood,
A great wave from it going over them,
As if the earth in one unlooked-for favour
Had made them certain earth returned their love.
poem by Robert Frost
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Night
Earth! thou art lovely, when the sinking sun
Hath bathed the clouds in his departing flush,
And, with the moon-lit evening, hath begun
The voiceless, and yet spirit-calming hush,
That thrills around the heart, till tear-drops rush,
Unbidden and uncall'd for, to the eye;
When, save the music of the fountain's gush,
Or the far wailing of the night-bird's cry,
Unbroken silence hangs o'er earth, and wave, and sky.
But now the majesty of midnight storm
Is gathering, in its grandeur, o'er the sky;
The deep black clouds in mustering squadrons form,
And the low, fitful blast, that passes by,
Hath a strange fearful thrilling—like the sigh
Of a sick slumberer; even that hath died,
And in their quiet sleep the waters lie,
As though the winds ne'er curl'd them in its pride,
Or shook the still bent leaves that hang above the tide.
How steadily that ebon mass moves on!
Stretching across the sky in one dark line,
Like a huge wall of blackness; there do none
Of the thin silvery vapours hang supine,
Or those bright clouds that sometimes seem to twine
A coronal to grace the brow of night;
Stars in Orion's studded baldric shine,
In all their wonted brightness; and the light
Of an unclouded moon half dims the dazzled sight.
The tempest hurries onward—how the flash
Of the red lightning leaps from cloud to cloud!
The gathering thunder bursts in one wild crash,
And sinks a moment—then, returning loud,
Seems bounding o'er the sky, as if 't were proud
Of its own potency. We need not now,
A sharer in the thoughts that round us crowd;
The soul is its own world, and the deep glow
Of the rapt spirit seeks no fellowship below.
The wildness of the storm hath pass'd; the rain
Drips from the wet leaves only, and the sky,
With its deep azure beauty, gleams again
Through the rent clouds; the sunken wind swells by,
With a low sobbing; and the clouds, heap'd high,
With the rich moonbeams’ streaming flood of light
Pour'd full upon them, swell before the eye
Like distant snow-clad mountains. Night! O night!
Thou art most glorious! most beautifully bright!
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Seek and Thou Shall Find
I stopped to ask this young woman for directions,
she hesitated then said, “Now let me see”.
Her voice was clear, soft and gentle,
and she smiled politely at me.
The directions she gave me were complicated,
but as it happened she lived close by the place,
so she said she would walk so far with me
and as I said thank you, another smile lit up her face.
Our talking passed the time away very quickly
and she said, “This is as far as I go.”
She then asked if I had got time for a coffee
and I said, “How could I possibly say no.”
We talked as we walked up to her apartment,
and coffee was my only intent.
We talked and drank coffee until after midnight,
but then our hands touched by accident.
Our fingers searched out for each other’s
and we kissed as our hands held tight.
Our hands then touched each others body’s
and we knew I would be staying the night.
We were both trembling with excitement
and kissed as our clothes fell to the floor.
We caressed and kissed each other all over
and made love again and again, and once more.
We both collapsed and fell asleep on the carpet,
and were awakened by the morning light.
Once again we covered each other with kisses
and made love until the sun shone bright.
I never did get to the place I was searching,
but I did find true love on the way.
We decided to live together
and I’m moving in today.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Night of Death
Twas a night of dreadful horror, --
Death was sweeping through the land;
And the wings of dark destruction
Were outstretched from strand to strand
Strong men's hearts grew faint with terror,
As the tempest and the waves
Wrecked their homes and swept them downward,
Suddenly to yawning graves.
'Mid the wastes of ruined households,
And the tempest's wild alarms,
Stood a terror-stricken mother
With a child within her arms.
Other children huddled 'round her,
Each one nestling in her heart;
Swift in thought and swift in action,
She at least from one must part.
Then she said unto her daughter,
"Strive to save one child from death."
"Which one?" said the anxious daughter,
As she stood with bated breath.
Oh! the anguish of that mother;
What despair was in her eye!
All her little ones were precious;
Which one should she leave to die?
Then outspake the brother Bennie:
"I will take the little one."
"No," exclaimed the anxious mother;
"No, my child, it can't be done."
"See! my boy, the waves are rising,
Save yourself and leave the child!"
"I will trust in Christ," he answered;
Grasped the little one and smiled.
Through the roar of wind and waters
Ever and anon she cried;
But throughout the night of terror
Never Bennie's voice replied.
But above the waves' wild surging
He had found a safe retreat,
As if God had sent an angel,
Just to guide his wandering feet.
When the storm had spent its fury,
And the sea gave up its dead
She was mourning for her loved ones,
Lost amid that night of dread.
While her head was bowed in anguish,
On her ear there fell a voice,
Bringing surcease to her sorrow,
Bidding all her heart rejoice.
"Didn't I tell you true?" said Bennie,
And his eyes were full of light,
"When I told you God would help me
Through the dark and dreadful night?"
And he placed the little darling
Safe within his mother's arms,
Feeling Christ had been his guardian,
'Mid the dangers and alarms.
Oh! for faith so firm and precious,
In the darkest, saddest night,
Till life's gloom-encircled shadows
Fade in everlasting light.
And upon the mount of vision
We our loved and lost shall greet,
With earth's wildest storms behind us,
And its cares beneath our feet.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Forest Vine
It grew in the old wilderness—The vine
Is linked with thoughts of sunny Italy,
Or the fair hills of France, or the sweet vales
Where flows the Guadalquivir. But this grew
Where, as the sunlight look'd through lacing boughs,
The shadows of the stern, tall, primal wood
Fell round us, and across the silent flood,
That wash'd the deep ravine. The pauseless lapse
Of ages had beheld no change in all
The aspect of that scene; or but such change,
As Time himself had made; the slow decay
Of the old patriarch oaks, and as they fell
And moulder'd on the earth, the silent growth
Of the young sturdy stem, that rear'd itself
To stretch its branches in their former place.
The wild flower stretch'd its tender petals out,
Lending strange brightness to the forest gloom;
The fleet deer toss'd his antlers to the breeze,
Graceful and shy; and when the sun went down,
The tangled thicket rustled to the tread
Of the gaunt wolf—just as in former years.
But the red hunter was no longer there;
And the bright flowers were no more twined to deck
The brow of Indian maid.
We stood beside
A fallen oak; its aged limbs were spread
Prone to the earth, uptorn by the rude wind,
And perishing on the soil that once had fed
Their giant strength: clinging around its roots
And its decaying trunk, a grape-vine wreathed
Its fresh green foliage, draping the still grave
With its luxuriance—meet garniture
For such a sepulchre! a sepulchre most meet
To wrap the bones of the old forest race!
For we had checked our idle wanderings
To gaze upon the relics of the dead—
The dead of other ages! they who trod
When that fallen tree was fresh in its green prime,—
The earth that it now cumber'd; they who once
In savage freedom bounded through the wild,
And quaff'd the limpid spring, or shot along
The swift canoe upon yon rushing wave,
Or yell'd the fierce and horrid war whoop round,
Or gather'd to the council fire, or sprang
With proud firm step to mingle in the dance,
And vaunt of their own triumphs;—there they lie,
Brittle and time-blanch'd fragments! bones—dry bones!
Prison'd for lingering years beneath the sod,
And now that the strong wind hath torn away
The bars of their dark cell, restored again
To the clear sunshine. It seems strange to think
That those wan relics once were clothed with life—
Breathing and living flesh—and sprang away
O'er the green hills at morning, and at eve,
Return'd again to the low cabin home,
And found its shadows happiness.
That dust—
Gather some to thee—the keen eye can mark
No difference from that spread widely round—
The common earth we tread upon; yet this
Once help'd to form the garment of a mind
Once wrapp'd a human heart, and thrill'd with all
The emotions of man's nature; love and hate,
Sweet hope and stern revenge—ay, even faith
In an undying world.
So let them rest!
That faith, erring and dark as it might be,
Was yet not wholly vain. We may not know
Of what the dark grave hideth; but the soul,
Immortal as eternity itself,
Is in the hands of One most merciful.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Rock and The Bubble
Oh! a bare, brown rock
Stood up in the sea,
The waves at its feet
Dancing merrily.
A little bubble
Once came sailing by,
And thus to the rock
Did it gayly cry,--
"Ho! clumsy brown stone,
Quick, make way for me:
I'm the fairest thing
That floats on the sea.
"See my rainbow-robe,
See my crown of light,
My glittering form,
So airy and bright.
"O'er the waters blue,
I'm floating away,
To dance by the shore
With the foam and spray.
"Now, make way, make way;
For the waves are strong,
And their rippling feet
Bear me fast along."
But the great rock stood
Straight up in the sea:
It looked gravely down,
And said pleasantly--
"Little friend, you must
Go some other way;
For I have not stirred
this many a long day.
"Great billows have dashed,
And angry winds blown;
But my sturdy form
Is not overthrown.
"Nothing can stir me
In the air or sea;
Then, how can I move,
Little friend, for thee?"
Then the waves all laughed
In their voices sweet;
And the sea-birds looked,
From their rocky seat,
At the bubble gay,
Who angrily cried,
While its round cheek glowed
With a foolish pride,--
"You SHALL move for me;
And you shall not mock
At the words I say,
You ugly, rough rock.
"Be silent, wild birds!
While stare you so?
Stop laughing, rude waves,
And help me to go!
"For I am the queen
Of the ocean here,
And this cruel stone
Cannot make me fear."
Dashing fiercely up,
With a scornful word,
Foolish Bubble broke;
But Rock never stirred.
Then said the sea-birds,
Sitting in their nests
To the little ones
Leaning on their breasts,--
"Be not like Bubble,
Headstrong, rude, and vain,
Seeking by violence
Your object to gain;
"But be like the rock,
Steadfast, true, and strong,
Yet cheerful and kind,
And firm against wrong.
"Heed, little birdlings,
And wiser you'll be
For the lesson learned
To-day by the sea."
poem by Louisa May Alcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Illuminated Stone
Once there was a rock
holding onto a Blackened sky
'Twas one night when
moon said to Rock
Let me light you...
'No' said rock
'this can not
for I am but a stone,
that was thrown
and landed in the sky.'
'It frightens me here Moon
for see' said Rock 'I cannot fly'
'A Stone? ' laughed Moon 'You need not fly
for you rock, you are a star'
'NO said Rock
this I'm not
I'm ordinary by far'
Moon shone bright
and shed his light
on Rock
and in no time it appeared
that rock might just be
the star Moon predicted,
so here was Rock
still in shock
for everyone started to stare.
'Moon stop that light'
asked Rock
'for you don't understand
I really am just a stone
and a ugly stone I am'
Rock knew of all the
sharp edges and holes and shreds,
caused by much erosion,
for stones are not pebbles
small and smooth,
that lays in soft riverbeds.
Moon grew fond
of Rock
and spent night after night
talking to Rock,
all the time shining his light.
Rock looked past Luna's flame
and found there something plain
this made Rock feel safe with Luna
and started feeling lighter night by night
and as time passed by
Rock and Luna became one
outshining even Sun.
Moon as all man knows
is a bright shining fellow
full of Romance for lovers
and a light for a traveler's road...
he even turns the tides,
but a little known fact,
is that Luna is the cause,
of mental Lunacy.
If this you doubt,
just walk on a full moon's eve,
into a Looney house,
for there you'll perceive
just what happens,
to many who have
one to many times to much,
by Luna's light been touched.
Ask even the howling wolf
who warns, on full moon nights
his fellow wolverine canine,
not to much at full moon stare.
One day perchance,
Rock found this little factling out
and realised how so many, many
laughed at Rocks illuminated faults,
so Rock tried with all Rocks might
to get out of Luna's pure light,
but everywhere that Rock tried to go,
Luna would send his burning flame
illuminating more and more
of Rock's stone of shame.
Rock tried for the longest time
to get away from the Luna once so dear,
but one day Rock began to fear
that Luna will never stop
and that day by day,
Luna's light was not just
illuminating mistakes,
but eroding even more
ugliness into the already unsightly Rock.
One day after much wiggling and fight
Rock came loose from
the blackened sky
and down to earth
Rock tumbled
Rock back to earth did fly,
a hump of burnt out
starlight stone,
and came to rest within
a selfmade crater.
Rock cried and cried
for Moon she missed
but knew that Moon's light
was deluding, not just everyone else
arround it, but most all
the Lunatic man
living on the moon.
poem by Michelle Melody
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Guenevere
I was a queen, and I have lost my crown;
A wife, and I have broken all my vows;
A lover, and I ruined him I loved: --
There is no other havoc left to do.
A little month ago I was a queen,
And mothers held their babies up to see
When I came riding out of Camelot.
The women smiled, and all the world smiled too.
And now, what woman's eyes would smile on me?
I still am beautiful, and yet what child
Would think of me as some high, heaven-sent thing,
An angel, clad in gold and miniver?
The world would run from me, and yet am I
No different from the queen they used to love.
If water, flowing silver over stones,
Is forded, and beneath the horses' feet
Grows turbid suddenly, it clears again,
And men will drink it with no thought of harm.
Yet I am branded for a single fault.
I was the flower amid a toiling world,
Where people smiled to see one happy thing,
And they were proud and glad to raise me high;
They only asked that I should be right fair,
A little kind, and gowned wondrously,
And surely it were little praise to me
If I had pleased them well throughout my life.
I was a queen, the daughter of a king.
The crown was never heavy on my head,
It was my right, and was a part of me.
The women thought me proud, the men were kind,
And bowed right gallantly to kiss my hand,
And watched me as I passed them calmly by,
Along the halls I shall not tread again.
What if, to-night, I should revisit them?
The warders at the gates, the kitchen-maids,
The very beggars would stand off from me,
And I, their queen, would climb the stairs alone,
Pass through the banquet-hall, a loathed thing,
And seek my chambers for a hiding-place,
And I should find them but a sepulchre,
The very rushes rotted on the floors,
The fire in ashes on the freezing hearth.
I was a queen, and he who loved me best
Made me a woman for a night and day,
And now I go unqueened forevermore.
A queen should never dream on summer eves,
When hovering spells are heavy in the dusk: --
I think no night was ever quite so still,
So smoothly lit with red along the west,
So deeply hushed with quiet through and through.
And strangely clear, and deeply dyed with light,
The trees stood straight against a paling sky,
With Venus burning lamp-like in the west.
I walked alone amid a thousand flowers,
That drooped their heads and drowsed beneath the dew,
And all my thoughts were quieted to sleep.
Behind me, on the walk, I heard a step --
I did not know my heart could tell his tread,
I did not know I loved him till that hour.
Within my breast I felt a wild, sick pain,
The garden reeled a little, I was weak,
And quick he came behind me, caught my arms,
That ached beneath his touch; and then I swayed,
My head fell backward and I saw his face.
All this grows bitter that was once so sweet,
And many mouths must drain the dregs of it.
But none will pity me, nor pity him
Whom Love so lashed, and with such cruel thongs.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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