Related quotes: I had visited her often,...

The Pursuit

I had visited her often,
Long had sought, with vain endeavor,
Her obdurate heart to soften;
But she answered, 'never, never.'

Then it softened and ran widely,
Like an ink-dropp on a blotter.
I ceased labor, tasted idly,
Found it bitter, and forgot her.

poem by Gamaliel Bradford
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Related quotes

Unbroken

Fallen to pieces (I am undone)
The things you said the (manipulation)
I trusted you like a fool while you made all the rules
So you searched me out
And you took me down
-TO BE UNBROKEN, WHAT WOULD THAT BE
IF WORDS THAT WERE SPOKEN HAD NOT SHATTERED ME
IF I WAS UNBROKEN, I'D NEVER KNOW
THE BEAUTY OF HOPE AND HOW FAR GRACE WILL GO
TO BE UNBROKEN, TO BE UNBROKEN-
The things you found (to use against me)
Have lost their sound (where mercy and truth meet)
I fell to the Father's feet, His words washed all over me
And all the scars you made
Watch them fade away
[refrain]
I've tasted bitter, tasted sweet
Embraced the victory and some defeat
I've tasted bitter, tasted sweet
I've found the beauty in the place they meet
[refrain]

song performed by by ZoeGirl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cross-Roads

Once more I write a line to you,
While darker shadows fall;
Dear friends of mine who have been true,
And steadfast through it all.
If I have written bitter rhymes,
With many lines that halt,
And if I have been false at times
It was not all my fault.

To Heaven’s decree I would not bow,
And I sank very low—
The bitter things are written now,
And we must let them go.
But I feel softened as I write;
The better spirit springs,
And I am very sad to-night
Because of many things.

The friendships that I have abused,
The trust I did betray,
The talents that I have misused,
The gifts I threw away.
The things that did me little good,
And—well my cheeks might burn—
The kindly letters that I should
Have answered by return.

But you might deem them answered now,
And answered from my heart;
And injured friends will understand
’Tis I who feel the smart.
But I have done with barren strife
And dark imaginings,
And in my future work and life
Will seek the better things.

poem by Henry Lawson
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The Quest

I sought Him on the purple seas,
I sought Him on the peaks aflame;
Amid the gloom of giant trees
And canyons lone I called His name;
The wasted ways of earth I trod:
In vain! In vain! I found not God.

I sought Him in the hives of men,
The cities grand, the hamlets gray,
The temples old beyond my ken,
The tabernacles of to-day;
All life that is, from cloud to clod
I sought. . . . Alas! I found not God.

Then after roamings far and wide,
In streets and seas and deserts wild,
I came to stand at last beside
The death-bed of my little child.
Lo! as I bent beneath the rod
I raised my eyes . . . and there was God.

poem by Robert William Service
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I Long

I long to be safe, in the arms of an Angel-
Far away from here, in her loving solace.
Perhaps I can simply close my eyes, and, well-
Go there, wheresoever she may posit.

I long to be 'better'-to feel whole again;
Perhaps I may be able to rebuild
A once-amazing man-but, where do I begin?
I may only endeavor as God has willed.

I long to feel loved, as I know I may;
Perhaps I may never know, yet shall endeavor
Still the same-as 'never' I cannot say.
As is now though, my heart's glee is as it has never
Been before, and surely never shall again-
Until the morrow, when doubled all again!

poem by Maurice Harris
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Then And Now

THEN

He loved her, and through many years,
Had paid his fair devoted court,
Until she wearied, and with sneers
Turned all his ardent love to sport.

That night within his chamber lone,
He long sat writing by his bed
A note in which his heart made moan
For love; the morning found him dead.

NOW

Like him, a man of later day
Was jilted by the maid he sought,
And from her presence turned away,
Consumed by burning, bitter thought.

He sought his room to write--a curse
Like him before and die, I ween.
Ah no, he put his woes in verse,
And sold them to a magazine.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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One said of suicide, As long as one has brains one should not blow them out. And another answered, But when one has ceased to have them, too often one cannot.

quote by F.H. Bradley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the desert

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter -- bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

poem by Stephen Crane
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Psalm 14 part 1

By Nature all men are sinners.

Fools in their heart believe and say
"That all religion's vain;
There is no God that reigns on high,
Or minds th' affairs of men."

From thoughts so dreadful and profane,
Corrupt discourse proceeds;
And in their impious hands are found
Abominable deeds.

The Lord from his celestial throne
Looked down on things below,
To find the man that sought his grace,
Or did his justice know.

By nature all are gone astray,
Their practice all the same;
There's none that fears his Maker's hand;
There's none that loves his name.

Their tongues are used to speak deceit,
Their slanders never cease;
How swift to mischief are their feet,
Nor know the paths of peace!

Such seeds of sin (that bitter root)
In every heart are found;
Nor can they bear diviner fruit,
Till grace refine the ground.

poem by Isaac Watts
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I Had Bigger Plans

I had bigger plans
Life sure forgot
And money and money and money
Just kept holding me down.
In my own mind
Wrestling
With that which lie beyond me
And never found
Sweeter taste
In time's fleeting moment past.
The bitter berries
Of berry's bitter taste.
Made more real by the moment
I had found it here.

poem by Denis Kucharski
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The Difference

When we were together, heart of my heart, on that unforgotten quest,
With your tender arm about me thrown and your head upon my breast,
There came a grief that was bitter and deep and straitly dwell with me,
And I shunned it not, so sweet it was to suffer and be with thee.

And now when no more against mine own is beating thine eager heart,
When thine eyes are turned from the glance of mine and our ways are far apart,
A dear and long-sought joy has come my constant guest to be,
And I love it not, so bitter it is, unfelt, unshared, by thee.

poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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Alchemy of a Foolish Heart

Trekkers and prospectors
In the quest for that elusive place
Of the unbolted heart, El-dorado
Where all matter shimmers in the shadow of Midas
To soar in heart to where Seraphim roam
Where mountains cease to exist to gaze's capture
To the cardinal belief that man, in his labor and toil
Can be tapped for his residual traces of humanity
To sap maple syrup from stubborn boughs of apathy
To bestow sweetness to lips left bitter
By sodden mists of warped endeavor, devilish and seductive
To bestow on the dented heart, a leprechaun's bounty
To prospect gold in the direness of mines, pits of worldliness
Blinded by greed, deafened by indifference, muted by misdeed
To be untarnished of an infective sophistication
To prosper in the alchemy of a foolish heart

poem by Dilantha Gunawardana
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As Moments Endeavor

As Moments Endeavor
By: Adam M. Snow

Woe unto those who trust me not,
Every era lived soon forgot-
My bearing misery whom I fear;
My dawning truth coming near.
Blind me not my pain,
Reason why I'm insane.
I scream my echoing grief;
Abandon my belief.
I lost myself again,
To my only sin.
This time forever,
As moments endeavor.

poem by Adam M. Snow
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Bitter Heart

Why is your heart bitter?
What have I said?
What have I done?
Forgot that I nurtured you
My son?
Yet in my need
Your heart revealed
A blind spot
A bad seed
If someone told me
I would not believe
But you did it to me

Which I could cry
But my tears are punctured
And like a dead man
Your inconsideration rips

Why is your heart bitter?
What have I said?
What have I done?
No compassion
No empathy
If I were you
I could not sleep
My conscience
Would torment me
If I were you
I could not see
My eyes would be red-hot
Hotter than the sun

This is horrid
Buried deep within
Unmask it now
Stunt its growth
Don't let it flourish
Pluck it from the root
And kill it!

poem by Buxton Shippy
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Sonnet: Lift Not The Painted Veil Which Those Who Live

Lift not the painted veil which those who live
Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,
And it but mimic all we would believe
With colours idly spread,-behind, lurk Fear
And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave
Their shadows, o'er the chasm, sightless and drear.
I knew one who had lifted it-he sought,
For his lost heart was tender, things to love,
But found them not, alas! nor was there aught
The world contains, the which he could approve.
Through the unheeding many he did move,
A splendour among shadows, a bright blot
Upon this gloomy scene, a Spirit that strove
For truth, and like the Preacher found it not.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Lift Not The Painted Veil Which Those Who Live

Lift not the painted veil which those who live
Call Life: though unreal shapes be pictured there,
And it but mimic all we would believe
With colours idly spread,--behind, lurk Fear
And Hope, twin Destinies; who ever weave
Their shadows, o'er the chasm, sightless and drear.
I knew one who had lifted it--he sought,
For his lost heart was tender, things to love,
But found them not, alas! nor was there aught
The world contains, the which he could approve.
Through the unheeding many he did move,
A splendour among shadows, a bright blot
Upon this gloomy scene, a Spirit that strove
For truth, and like the Preacher found it not.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Serranilla

FROM Calatrava as I took my way
At holy Mary's shrine to kneel and pray,
And sleep upon my eyelids heavy lay,
There where the ground was very rough and wild,
I lost my path and met a peasant child:
From Finojosa, with the herds around her,
There in the fields I found her.

Upon a meadow green with tender grass,
With other rustic cowherds, lad and lass,
So sweet a thing to see I watched her pass:
My eyes could scarce believe her what they found her,
There with the herds around her.

I do not think that roses in the Spring
Are half so lovely in their fashioning:
My heart must needs avow this secret thing,
That had I known her first as then I found her,
From Finojosa, with the herds around her,
I had not strayed so far her face to see
That it might rob me of my liberty.

I questioned her, to know what she might say:
'Has she of Finojosa passed this way? '
She smiled and answered me: 'In vain you sue,
Full well my heart discerns the hope in you:
But she of whom you speak, and have not found her.
Her heart is free, no thought of love has bound her,
Here with the herds around her.'

poem by Íñigo López de Mendoza
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Dementia

My mother forgot how to swallow.

Before that, she lost my face and my name,
erased from her memory by sickness and age.
Her nurses complained she took too long to feed
They wanted a peg and a tube for the deed

My mother forgot how to swallow

She forgot her late spouse, disremembered her vow.
With the loss of the past there is no here and now.
Once she read to my child, then my girl read to her-
Until all the sounds were a meaningless blur

My mother forgot how to swallow

Jesus and Mary and her patron saint
would loved to have helped her, so weak and so faint,
but she had forgotten the simplest prayer -
the beads in her hand little use to her here.

My mother forgot how to swallow

The night nurses found her while making their round
She was cold to the touch, no pulse to be found
She stared, eyes wide open, at the cross on the wall
Perhaps the Messiah had come after all.

poem by John F. McCullagh
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But because many endeavor to get knowledge rather than to live well, they are often deceived and reap little or no benefit from their labor.

quote by Thomas Kempis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Prayer For Pain's Passing - And A Reply

'Lord help me, as I verily bind wounds and endeavor
To push past this pain, from which I want sever;
As though a thorusand death have been my penance-
For crimes committed against me, and in contravenance
Of all that is righteous, and in keeping with jurisprudence;
I want for much more than mere condolence-
I want not for vengeance, but long-sought redress,
For emotional and physical scars, and years living under duress! '

To which He made reply: 'My long-suffering, yet, devout Son,
You long for answers to vexatious queries, and I have each one.
The pain from which you need to make part
Shall meet its cease, as I have begun, verily, to impart
A solution that shall soon make itself known-
To include an enlightened Cherub I have already shown!
Though I made known to the world, your heart's fragility,
I shall also endeavor hence to prove its repeat no longer a possibility!
What I have meant to be your's, shall be, I assure;
What seems to be unnecessarily punitive, is proof of intentions pure;
I should not want for suffering, without recompense,
Just as I should not want for undue faith or reverence!
You, my faithful Son, are Your Heavenly Father's vessel-
To show the world how unfettered faith meets its fulfill! '