The Two Paths Of Virtue
Two are the pathways by which mankind can to virtue mount upward;
If thou should find the one barred, open the other will lie.
'Tis by exertion the happy obtain her, the suffering by patience.
Blest is the man whose kind fate guides him along upon both!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Related quotes
Patience—has a quiet Outer
926
Patience—has a quiet Outer—
Patience—Look within—
Is an Insect's futile forces
Infinites—between—
'Scaping one—against the other
Fruitlesser to fling—
Patience—is the Smile's exertion
Through the quivering—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Sonnet 56: Fie, School Of Patience
Fie, school of Patience, fie! your lesson is
Far, far too long to learn it without book:
What, a whole week without one piece of look,
And think I should not your large precepts miss?
When I might read those letters fair of bliss,
Which in her face teach virtue, I could brook
Somewhat thy leaden counsels, which I took
As of a friend that meant not much amiss:
But now that I, alas, do want her sight,
What, dost thou think that I can ever take
In thy cold stuff a phlegmatic delight?
No, Patience, if thou wilt my good, then make
Her come, and hear with patience my desire,
And then with patience bid me bear my fire.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Patience
Patience
Some say it is a virtue,
others might see it as a sin.
Patience
Means waiting for a key to a door,
that holds treasures locked within.
Patience
Means despair at every corner,
and rejections from left to right.
So is patience,
a virtue or a sin.
I will let you decide
which category it should fall in.
poem by David Harris
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Love And Discipline
Since in a land not barren still
(Because Thou dost Thy grace distill)
My lot is fallen, blest be Thy will!
And since these biting frosts but kill
Some tares in me which choke or spill
That seed Thou sow'st, blest be Thy skill!
Blest be Thy dew, and blest Thy frost,
And happy I to be so crossed,
And cured by crosses at Thy cost.
The dew doth cheer what is distressed,
The frosts ill weeds nip and molest;
In both Thou work'st unto the best.
Thus while Thy several mercies plot,
And work on me now cold, now hot,
The work goes on and slacketh not;
For as Thy hand the weather steers,
So thrive I best, 'twixt joys and tears,
And all the year have some green ears.
poem by Henry Vaughan
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My Reason
live a life that's sheltered
I'm constantly alone
reporting on my weakness
there's emptiness at home
I need to find a reason
to live this way
I'm running out of patience and my life is over
I'm standing here but I'm on my way
searching to find them answer
standing here but it's all the same
and I'm running out of patience
well I will obtain
my reason
for you
and I have gained
a reason
for you
but you left me
you left me here and I'm all alone
theres drifting by another scent
I take pity in myself
searching the event that kept me in this hell
I need to find a reason
to live this way
I'm running out of patience and my life is over
I'm standing here but I'm on my way
searching to find them answer
standing here but it's all the same
and I'm running out of patience
well I will obtain
my reason
for you
well I have gave
a reason
for you
but you left me
you left me here and I'm all alone
I'm all alone
I'm all alone
I'm all alone
I'm all a
a(strech out a long time)
well I'm searching to find my reason
to find a reason
to find my reason why I need you
and I need you
and I want you
but I need to
get away from you
and I need you
and I want you
but I need to
get away from you
and I need you
and I want you
but I need to
get away from you
and I need you
and I want you
but I need to
get away from you
well I will take my reason for you
and I needed someone to love me
but you just left me
here and allowed me
you know I needed someone to love me
but I'm all alone
song performed by by Linkin Park
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Comfort In Tears
How happens it that thou art sad,
While happy all appear?
Thine eye proclaims too well that thou
Hast wept full many a tear.
"If I have wept in solitude,
None other shares my grief,
And tears to me sweet balsam are,
And give my heart relief."
Thy happy friends invite thee now,--
Oh come, then, to our breast!
And let the loss thou hast sustain'd
Be there to us confess'd!
"Ye shout, torment me, knowing not
What 'tis afflicteth me;
Ah no! I have sustained no loss,
Whate'er may wanting be."
If so it is, arise in haste!
Thou'rt young and full of life.
At years like thine, man's blest with strength.
And courage for the strife.
"Ah no! in vain 'twould be to strive,
The thing I seek is far;
It dwells as high, it gleams as fair
As yonder glitt'ring star."
The stars we never long to clasp,
We revel in their light,
And with enchantment upward gaze,
Each clear and radiant night.
"And I with rapture upward gaze,
On many a blissful day;
Then let me pass the night in tears,
Till tears are wip'd away!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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In Memory of My Dear Grandchild Elizabeth Bradstreet, Who Deceased August, 1665 Beaing a Year and a
Farewell dear babe, my heart's too much content,
Farewell sweet babe, the pleasure of mine eye,
Farewell fair flower that for a space was lent,
Then ta'en away unto eternity.
Blest babe why should I once bewail thy fate,
Or sigh the days so soon were terminate;
Sith thou art settle in an everlasting state.
By nature trees do rot when they are grown.
And plums and apples throughly ripe do fall,
And corn and grass are in their season mown,
And time brings down what is both strong and tall.
But plants new set to be eradicate,
And buds new blown, to have so short a date,
Is by His hand alone that guides nature and fate.
poem by Anne Bradstreet (1678)
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Patience
Patience is a virtue.
You'll need it to stay true.
Whenever you are feeling blue.
Faith, and patience will always pull you through.
Though at times it may seem bleak,
and hope is very weak.
Be patient and you'll find what you now seek.
Love is patience which you really need.
Push too hard and good will leave.
The patient man will take the lead.
Rewarded well for this virtious seed.
With which he grew and paid his dues.
The impatient man will always lose.
So wait your turn, ignore the burn.
With patience now you'll not be spurned.
poem by Michael McParland
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To The Rising Full Moon
Dornburg, 25th August, 1828.
WILT thou suddenly enshroud thee,
Who this moment wert so nigh?
Heavy rising masses cloud thee,
Thou art hidden from mine eye.
Yet my sadness thou well knowest,
Gleaming sweetly as a star!
That I'm loved, 'tis thou that showest,
Though my loved one may be far.
Upward mount then! clearer, milder,
Robed in splendour far more bright!
Though my heart with grief throbs wilder,
Fraught with rapture is the night!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Man's best companion
Patience is the greatest weapon of man
By exercising patience
Every enduring task is accomplished
Patience is a kind of worship
It is a great service to God
When everyone deserts him
It is his patience that stands by him
In happiness patience prevents him From going astray
In his sorrow patience saves him
From being rigid to God
Patience is his best companion
Through thick and thin.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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The Disciple
Thou wilt my hands employ, though others find
No work for those who praise thy name aright;
And in their worldly wisdom call them blind,
Whom thou has blest with thine own spirit's sight.
But while they find no work for thee to do,
And blindly on themselves alone rely;
The child must suffer what thou sufferest too
And learn from him thou sent e'en so to die;
Thou art my Father, thou wilt give me aid
To bear the wrong the Spirit suffers here;
Thou hast thy help upon the mighty laid,
In him I trust, nor know to want or fear,
But ever onward walk secure from sin,
For he has conquered every foe within.
poem by Jones Very
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Repose In God
Blest! who, far from all mankind
This world's shadows left behind,
Hears from heaven a gentle strain
Whispering love, and loves again.
Blest! who, free from self–esteem,
Dives into the great Supreme.
All desire beside discards,
Joys inferior none regards.
Blest! who in thy bosom seeks
Rest that nothing earthly breaks,
Dead to self and worldly things,
Lost in thee, thou King of kings!
Ye that know my secret fire,
Softly speak and soon retire;
Favour my divine repose,
Spare the sleep a God bestows.
poem by William Cowper
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The wounded vulture
A kingly vulture sat alone,
Lord of the ruin round,
Where Egypt's ancient monuments
Upon the desert frowned.
A hunter's eager eye had marked
The form of that proud bird,
And through the voiceless solitude
His ringing shot was heard.
It rent that vulture's pluméd breast,
Aimed with unerring hand,
And his life-blood gushed warm and red
Upon the yellow sand.
No struggle marked the deadly wound,
He gave no piercing cry,
But calmly spread his giant wings,
And sought the upper sky.
In vain with swift pursuing shot
The hunter seeks his prey,
Circling and circling upward still
On his majestic way.
Up to the blue empyrean
He wings his steady flight,
Till his receding form is lost
In the full flood of light.
Oh wounded heart! oh suffering soul!
Sit not with folded wing,
Where broken dreams and ruined hopes
Their mournful shadows fling.
Outspread thy pinions like that bird,
Take thou the path sublime,
Beyond the flying shafts of Fate,
Beyond the wounds of Time.
Mount upward! brave the clouds and storms!
Above life's desert plain
There is a calmer, purer air,
A heaven thou, too, may'st gain.
And as that dim, ascending form
Was lost in day's broad light,
So shall thine earthly sorrows fade,
Lost in the Infinite.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Somehow, I've Never Really Been Mad At A Woman
I want to find God and meaning
On my own terms of arrogance and confusion,
For my love and devotion
To be precisely my own idea.
I want to enthusiastically
Run through the rain of this existence,
To embrace my suffering with a smile
To laugh in glee at all the darkness
Enveloping me.
Loneliness has been my companion
Down the pathways of this
Expedition of despair,
But she is a fine lady
Who never disappoints.
I no longer make use
Of any pretext of civility
When it comes to dealing with myself
Or gazing into a mirror,
It is straight-up self-loathing
Without a chaser.
I don't know if there is destiny
Or deity-guided fate,
But whatever must be will be
Until I find my way to a silent grave.
When she told me she was leaving,
I told her everything was happiness between us,
What else could I possibly say?
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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Hymn 102
The Beatitudes.
Mt. 5:3-12.
[Blest are the humble souls that see
Their emptiness and poverty;
Treasures of grace to them are giv'n,
And crowns of joy laid up in heav'n.]
[Blest are the men of broken heart,
Who mourn for sin with inward smart
The blood of Christ divinely flows,
A healing balm for all their woes.]
[Blest are the meek, who stand afar
From rage and passion, noise and war;
God will secure their happy state,
And plead their cause against the great.]
[Blest are the souls that thirst for grace,
Hunger and long for righteousness;
They shall be well supplied, and fed
With living streams and living bread.]
[Blest are the men whose bowels move
And melt with sympathy and love;
From Christ the Lord shall they obtain
Like sympathy and love again.]
[Blest are the pure, whose hearts arc clean
From the defiling powers of sin;
With endless pleasure they shall see
A God of spotless purity.]
[Blest are the men of peaceful life,
Who quench the coals of growing strife;
They shall be called the heirs of bliss,
The sons of God, the God of peace.]
[Blest are the suff'rers who partake
Of pain and shame for Jesus' sake;
Their souls shall triumph in the Lord
Glory and joy are their reward.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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War is the domain of physical exertion and suffering.
quote by Karl Von Clausewitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn XX: Weary Souls, that Wander Wide
Weary souls, that wander wide
From the central point of bliss,
Turn to Jesus crucified,
Fly to those dear wounds of his:
Sink into the purple flood;
Rise into the life of God!
Find in Christ the way of peace,
Peace unspeakable, unknown;
By his pain he gives you ease,
Life by his expiring groan;
Rise, exalted by his fall,
Find in Christ your all in all.
O believe the record true,
God to you his Son hath give
Ye may now be happy too,
Find on earth the life of heaven,
Live the life of heaven above,
All the life of glorious love.
This the universal bliss,
Bliss for every soul designed,
God's original promise this,
God's great gift to all mankind:
Blest in Christ this moment be!
Blest to all eternity!
poem by John Wesley
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Hymn XX: Weary Souls, that Wander Wide
Weary souls, that wander wide
From the central point of bliss,
Turn to Jesus crucified,
Fly to those dear wounds of his:
Sink into the purple flood;
Rise into the life of God!
Find in Christ the way of peace,
Peace unspeakable, unknown;
By his pain he gives you ease,
Life by his expiring groan;
Rise, exalted by his fall,
Find in Christ your all in all.
O believe the record true,
God to you his Son hath give
Ye may now be happy too,
Find on earth the life of heaven,
Live the life of heaven above,
All the life of glorious love.
This the universal bliss,
Bliss for every soul designed,
God's original promise this,
God's great gift to all mankind:
Blest in Christ this moment be!
Blest to all eternity!
poem by Charles Wesley
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Why Is It (We Can)
why is it?
we can only see clearly
by virtue of loss?
we can only see suffering
when we are suffering?
we can only feel compassion
when we are hurting?
we only stand up
when we're pushed in a corner?
we can only find God
when the situation is hopeless?
we spend our whole lives
building walls that keep us
from being free!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Lines. Oh! To Some Distant Scene
Oh! to some distant scene, a willing exile
From the wild roar of this busy world,
Were it my fate with Delia to retire,
With her to wander through the sylvan shade,
Each morn, or o'er the moss-embrowned turf,
Where, blest as the prime parents of mankind
In their own Eden, we should envy none,
But, greatly pitying whom the world calls happy
Gently spin out the silken thread of life!
poem by William Cowper
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