By Reason Of Thy Law
Here I make oath--
Although the heart that knows its bitterness
Hear loath,
And credit less--
That he who kens to meet Pain's kisses fierce
Which hiss against his tears,
Dread, loss, nor love frustrate,
Nor all iniquity of the froward years
Shall his inur-ed wing make idly bate,
Nor of the appointed quarry his staunch sight
To lose observance quite;
Seal from half-sad and all-elate
Sagacious eyes
Ultimate Paradise;
Nor shake his certitude of haughty fate.
Pacing the burning shares of many dooms,
I with stern tread do the clear-witting stars
To judgment cite,
If I have borne aright
The proving of their pure-willed ordeal.
From food of all delight
The heavenly Falconer my heart debars,
And tames with fearful glooms
The haggard to His call;
Yet sometimes comes a hand, sometimes a voice withal,
And she sits meek now, and expects the light.
In this Avernian sky,
This sultry and incumbent canopy
Of dull and doomed regret;
Where on the unseen verges yet, O yet,
At intervals,
Trembles, and falls,
Faint lightning of remembered transient sweet--
Ah, far too sweet
But to be sweet a little, a little sweet, and fleet;
Leaving this pallid trace,
This loitering and most fitful light a space,
Still some sad space,
For Grief to see her own poor face:-
Here where I keep my stand
With all o'er-anguished feet,
And no live comfort near on any hand;
Lo, I proclaim the unavoided term,
When this morass of tears, then drained and firm,
Shall be a land--
Unshaken I affirm--
Where seven-quired psalterings meet;
And all the gods move with calm hand in hand,
And eyes that know not trouble and the worm.
poem by Francis Thompson
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Related quotes
A New Year's Message To Joseph Mazzini
Send the stars light, but send not love to me.
Shelley.
I
Out of the dawning heavens that hear
Young wings and feet of the new year
Move through their twilight, and shed round
Soft showers of sound,
Soothing the season with sweet rain,
If greeting come to make me fain,
What is it I can send again?
2
I know not if the year shall send
Tidings to usward as a friend,
And salutation, and such things
Bear on his wings
As the soul turns and thirsts unto
With hungering eyes and lips that sue
For that sweet food which makes all new.
3
I know not if his light shall be
Darkness, or else light verily:
I know but that it will not part
Heart's faith from heart,
Truth from the trust in truth, nor hope
From sight of days unscaled that ope
Beyond one poor year's horoscope.
4
That faith in love which love's self gives,
O master of my spirit, lives,
Having in presence unremoved
Thine head beloved,
The shadow of thee, the semitone
Of thy voice heard at heart and known,
The light of thee not set nor flown.
5
Seas, lands, and hours, can these divide
Love from love's service, side from side,
Though no sound pass nor breath be heard
Of one good word?
To send back words of trust to thee
Were to send wings to love, when he
With his own strong wings covers me.
6
Who shall teach singing to the spheres,
Or motion to the flight of years?
Let soul with soul keep hand in hand
And understand,
As in one same abiding-place
We keep one watch for one same face
To rise in some short sacred space.
7
And all space midway is but nought
To keep true heart from faithful thought,
As under twilight stars we wait
By Time's shut gate
Till the slow soundless hinges turn,
And through the depth of years that yearn
The face of the Republic burn.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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We Can Make It
I would do anything, anything a man can do
Youre my strength and weakness
I give it all for you
I would climb any mountain
How can I make you see?
Though the stars may fall, it will always be you and me
The light in your eyes is all the hope I need
Theres so much you can give
Your smile is my reason to live
Just take my hand, well make a stand
I know that we can make it
(hey) its you and me. the world will see
I know that we can make it, you and me
I see you, full of sadness
Wondering bout this world weve made
Theres a space between us all
Love has seen some better days
Oh we can make it
Oh we can make it
The love in your eyes is all I need to know
Im never letting go
Im here for you heart and soul
Just take my hand, well make a stand
I know that we can make it
(hey) its you and me, the world will see
I know that we can make it
I know that we can make it (hey, yeah)
Just take my hand, well make a stand
I know that we can make it
(hey) its you and me. the world will see
I know that we can make it
I know that we can make it
You and me
(sikes-cedro-scholz)
song performed by by Boston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come to Me, Sunbeam! I'm Dying
Come to me, Sunbeam! I'm dying
Uncared for, distress'd and alone.
Even now the pale angel with icy hand seizes
The heart that throbb'd along with your own.
Darling! delay not; for enginewheel stay not;
But wing'd by love, fly to my side:
Swift as the morning-beams fly, or I may not
Your coming abide.
Bring the calm joy of your presence--
To a chill'd heart the warmth of your love;
With a glance of these dear eyes this darkness illumine,
Until there comes light from above.
Eyes that shine clearest, with language sincerest,
Come speak me forgiven and bless'd:
Would you refuse me, my chosen! my dearest!
This dying request?
Still for your footsteps I listen;
Each momemt I listen and long
For the voice that might break this dead silence with music
As sweet as an angelic song.
Can you not hear me? Oh will you not cheer me,
At least with one loving adieu?
Yield me how can I when you are not near me?
I'm dying for you.
One in this world, and one only,
Could soothe me, could comfort me now;
Charm'd away were my anguish and you here beside me,
Your gentle hand laid on my brow.
Come, I entrust you! If once I might meet you--
Sweet Sunbeam! what doubts you dispel!
Clasp my hand; kiss me, love! so will I greet you
In Heaven ... Farewell!
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Joy that's half too keen, and true
Joy that's half too keen, and true,
Makes us tears.
Oh! the sweetness of the tears!
If such joy at hand appears,
Snatch it, give thine all for it;
Joy that is so exquisite,
Lost, comes not new.
One blossom for a hundred years.
Grief that's fond and dies not soon
Makes delight.
Oh! the pain of the delight!
If thy grief be love's aright,
Tend it close and let it grow:
Grief so tender not to know
Loses Love's boon.
Sweet Philomel sings all the night.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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The Muse of Australia
Where the pines with the eagles are nestled in rifts,
And the torrent leaps down to the surges,
I have followed her, clambering over the clifts,
By the chasms and moon-haunted verges.
I know she is fair as the angels are fair,
For have I not caught a faint glimpse of her there;
A glimpse of her face and her glittering hair,
And a hand with the Harp of Australia?
I never can reach you, to hear the sweet voice
So full with the music of fountains!
Oh! when will you meet with that soul of your choice,
Who will lead you down here from the mountains?
A lyre-bird lit on a shimmering space;
It dazzled mine eyes and I turned from the place,
And wept in the dark for a glorious face,
And a hand with the Harp of Australia!
Henry Kendall
poem by Henry Kendall
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Sweet Love You Are
I would never believe this before
When our eyes meet it's heavenly
And I can't help myself wanting more
Sweet Love You Are
You make me feel something inside
Something I know I can't really resist
When our lips meet in lovers woo
I know it's so much more then a kiss
Sweet Love You Are
My mind thinks so about you always
I just want to feel your sweet embrace
Magic is in the way you hold me close
And paradise is all the love we make
Sweet Love You Are
poem by Suelynn Walters
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The Tiger
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forest of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And What shoulder, and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
poem by William Blake
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The Tiger by William Blake
Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
The Tyger
Tyger, tyger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And, when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tyger, tyger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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She Was a Phantom of Delight
She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely Apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;
Like Twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful Dawn;
A dancing Shape, an Image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
I saw her upon a nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A Creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears and smiles.
And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A Being breathing thoughtful breath,
A Traveler between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warm, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright,
With something of angelic light.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Perfect Woman
SHE was a phantom of delight
When first she gleam'd upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
I saw her upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.
And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A being breathing thoughtful breath,
A traveller between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly plann'd,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Heart To Heart
(Emmylouy HarrisPaul Kennerley)
Heart to heart we'll hold together
Hand in hand we'll find a way
Oh, the storms of life may blind us
But with the loving vows that bind us
Heart to heart hand in hand we'll stay
Side by side forever and always
Day by day till our lives are done
This sweet love is ours to treasure
Far beyond all time and measure
Side by side day by day as one
The years connot take what's between you and me
We'll stand her together for the whole world to see
Heart to heart there'll be no other
Hand in hand for our love is true
Oh, the words that we have spoken
Will be a promise never broken
Heart to heart hand in hand with you
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beyond
MY heart it lies beyond, dear,
In the land of the setting day,
Where the whispers are soft and fond, dear,
Of the voices that pass away;
And oft, when the night is falling,
5
And a calm is on the sea,
I fancy I hear them calling
rom that far-off land for me.
It is only idle dreaming,
But the dream is full of rest,
10
And up where that glory is streaming,
From the gates of the golden west,
I wander away in spirit,
With a mingled joy and pain,
Till I almost seem to inherit
15
The sweet dead past again.
I see the old dear faces,
I greet them hand to hand;
But sadly too, for the places
Seem strange in that curious land;
20
Till a new light breaks, and all other
Grows dim to my streaming eyes;
For a son has found his mother
In the depths of the throbbing skies.
Yes, my heart it lies beyond, dear,
25
Where that sun is burning low,
And were you not so fond, dear,
I might perhaps—but no!
Are you weary already with walking?
And tears! What tears, dear, too!
30
How selfish of me to be talking,
My darling, in this way to you!
poem by Frederick George Scott
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A River Pool
Sweet streamlet bason! at thy side
Weary and faint within me cried
My longing heart, In such pure deep
How sweet it were to sit and sleep;
To feel each passage from without
Close up, above me and about,
Those circling waters crystal clear,
That calm impervious atmosphere!
There on thy pearly pavement pure,
To lean, and feel myself secure,
Or through the dim-lit inter-space,
Afar at whiles upgazing trace
The dimpling bubbles dance around
Upon thy smooth exterior face;
Or idly list the dreamy sound
Of ripples lightly flung, above
That home, of peace, if not of love.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Take Back the Virgin Page
Written on Returning a Blank Book
Take back the virgin page,
White and unwritten still;
Some hand, more calm and sage,
The leaf must fill.
Thoughts come, as pure as light
Pure as even you require;
But, oh! each word I write
Love turns to fire.
Yet let me keep the book:
Oft shall my heart renew,
When on its leaves I look,
Dear thoughts of you.
Like you, 'tis fair and bright;
Like you, too bright and fair
To let wild passion write
One wrong wish there.
Haply, when from those eyes
Far, far away I roam,
Should calmer thoughts arise
Towards you and home;
Fancy may trace some line,
Worthy those eyes to meet,
Thoughts that not burn, but shine,
Pure, calm, and sweet.
And as, o'er ocean far,
Seamen their records keep,
Led by some hidden star
Through the cold deep;
So may the words I write
Tell through what storms I stray --
You still the unseen light,
Guiding my way.
poem by Thomas Moore
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His Litany to the Holy Spirit
In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart, and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
Whe the artless doctor sees
No one hope but of his fees,
And his skill runs on the lees,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When his potion and his pill,
Has or none or little skill,
Meet for nothing, but to kill,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the passing-bell doth toll,
And the Furies in a shoal
Come to fright a parting soul,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the priest his last hath prayed,
And I nod to what is said,
'Cause my speech is now decayed,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When (God knows) I'm toss'd about,
Either with despair or doubt,
Yet before the glass be out,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the Tempter me pursu'th
With the sins of all my youth,
And half damns me with untruth,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the flames and hellish cries
Fright mine ears and fright mine eyes,
And all terrors me surprise,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
When the Judgment is revealed,
And that open'd which was seal'd,
When to Thee I have appeal'd,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!
poem by Robert Herrick
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His Litany, To The Holy Spirit
In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart, and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the artless doctor sees
No one hope, but of his fees,
And his skill runs on the lees,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When his potion and his pill,
Has, or none, or little skill,
Meet for nothing but to kill,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the passing-bell doth toll,
And the furies in a shoal
Come to fright a parting soul,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the priest his last hath pray'd,
And I nod to what is said,
'Cause my speech is now decay'd,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When, God knows, I'm tost about
Either with despair, or doubt;
Yet, before the glass be out,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the tempter me pursu'th
With the sins of all my youth,
And half damns me with untruth,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the flames and hellish cries
Fright mine ears, and fright mine eyes,
And all terrors me surprise,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
When the Judgment is reveal'd,
And that open'd which was seal'd;
When to Thee I have appeal'd,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!
poem by Robert Herrick
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Pretty Flamingo
(mark barken)
All around all of the guys call her flamingo
cause her hair glows like the sun
And her eyes light up the sky
When she walks by
She moves so fine like a flamingo
Crimson dress that clings so tight
Shes out of reach and out of sight
When she walks by
She brightens up the neighborhood
And every guy would take her hand
If he just could, if she just would
Some sweet day
Ill make her mine, pretty flamingo
And every guy will envy me
Cause paradise is where Ill be
When she walks by
She brightens up the neighborhood
And every guy would take her hand
If he just could, if she just would
Some sweet day
Ill make her mine, pretty flamingo
And every guy will envy me
Cause paradise is where Ill be
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mirror And The Reflection
I look into a mirror, who is it that I see?
This person cannot be me, can she?
Her smile scares me
The person she is
Is not the person I am
What is in her eyes
Is grief
Hatred
No emotions that is happy
What happened with the girl infront of me?
What made her so sad?
She smiles again
That sends shivers down my spine
Her tears make me cry
She falls and me not long after
We cry
There is just grief
Nothing can make us stop crying
Oh dear god
I look at my hands
The tears won't stop falling
Why is it that I am crying?
I am not that girl
I am not sad
I look up to the mirror
Maybe another sight will stand there
The mirror falls
Soon there is not just tears in my hand
There is also blood
Blood that stained from my heart
And as I realize, That girl was indeed me
The one I will be come
The one with a broken heart
The one with a dying fate
But that I already knew
And as I lie there
The reflection on the shattered mirror
Laughs with a sad pain in her voice
Patience
PATIENCE and I have traveled hand in hand
So many days that I have grown to trace
The lines of sad, sweet beauty in her face,
And all its veiled depths to understand.
Not beautiful is she to eyes profane;
Silent and unrevealed her holy charms;
But, like a mother's, her serene, strong arms
Uphold my footsteps on the path of pain.
I long to cry, -- her soft voice whispers, 'Nay!'
I seek to fly, but she restrains my feet;
In wisdom stern, yet in compassion sweet,
She guides my helpless wanderings, day by day.
O my Beloved, life's golden visions fade,
And one by one life's phantom joys depart;
They leave a sudden darkness in the heart,
And patience fills their empty place instead.
poem by Edith Wharton
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