En.Citatepedia^®.ro

In Collins Street

I stood in the heart of the city street,
I felt the throb of her pulses beat,
The thunder of life on the sunny air,
The waves of the people everywhere,
Like the stirring lilt of a mighty song
Ran the fever of life in the moving throng,
With the hope and joy and the want and woe
Of a million souls in its ebb and flow.
Like a floating straw in an eddy caught
My soul was whirled in the city’s thought—
The purse-born pride and the scheming brain,
The grinding need and the grasping gain;
The silent strength that is born to rule,
And the shallow laugh of the feckless fool,
The fresh young face where no shadow lies,
And the quenchless pain in the harlot’s eyes.

I stood in the heart of the city street,
And I heard not the tread of the passing feet,
For the days were grey and the nights were long,
And my soul was vexed with a wild sad song,
And the world like a stream flowed thro’ my brain,
And I saw her lands in a dream of pain,
And her power enthroned on the people’s needs,
And her heroes dead for a hundred creeds.

And I saw thro’ the pageant moving on
The same dark horrors of ages gone,
The dumb despair and the dire distress,
And man still mad in his littleness.
Who cares tho’ Earth be a masterpiece,
If pain and sorrow shall never cease?
Does God endure in His vaulted skies
The hopeless pain in His creatures’ eyes?

Then I saw, like a glory shining thro’,
What man had conquered and yet shall do.
I saw the depths where he lay of old,
And the heights of a splendour yet untold.
And I knew, in a flash, since the world began
What man had suffered and done for man,
And I felt like a note that is borne along
On the upward swell of a battle song.

poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Splendour And The Curse Of Song

Methought the unknown God we seek in vain
Grew weary of the evil He had wrought—
The piteous litanies of human pain—
Till here and there some lonely souls He sought
To bear the message of Immortal Thought,
And sent them forth to wander ’midst the throng
Crowned with the splendour and the curse of Song.
But that which still was kindred to the stars
Fought with the flesh and moaned within its cell,
And beat its wings against its prison bars.
Thus, soaring oft to heights sublime, they fell,
Dragged by the flesh into the gulfs of hell;
Till all their days were as a tumult long
Between the splendour and the curse of Song.

Yet often ’mid the fever of distress
Some singer’s lips would chant so sweet a strain
That storm-tossed souls forgot their weariness,
And comfort crept about the bed of pain,
And men took heart and dreamt of heaven again;
And to the weak came hope and courage strong
Born of the beauty and the balm of Song.

But Life was bitter to the lips that sung;
And heavier on those souls the curse did grow
Who strove to speak to men an unknown tongue,
And mournfully their hearts did weigh and know
The measure of the whole world’s cruel woe,
And wearily they fared Time’s path along
Vexed by the splendour and the curse of Song.

Theirs was the homeless hunger of the heart—
Immortal thought within a mortal breast,
Listless they wandered through the crowded mart,
Who to a careless world had given their best;
And when Death lulled them with his wings to rest
What reeked they where they slumbered calm and strong
Crowned with the splendour of Immortal Song?

poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In LIfe...Unless There Is Pain...There Can Not Be Joy

You Are The Pain and The Joy

You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.

You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.

You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.

You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.

You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.

You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.

You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.

You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.

You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.

You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.

You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.

You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.

You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.

You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.

You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pain...and...Joy

You Are The Pain and The Joy

You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.

You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.

You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.

You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.

You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.

You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.

You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.

You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.

You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.

You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.

You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.

You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.

You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.

You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.

You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Are The Pain and The Joy (rated 18 in group)

You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.

You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.

You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.

You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.

You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.

You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.

You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.

You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.

You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.

You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.

You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.

You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.

You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.

You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.

You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In All Things...

You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.

You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.

You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.

You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.

You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.

You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.

You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.

You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.

You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.

You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.

You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.

You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.

You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.

You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.

You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Are The Pain and The Joy

You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.

You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.

You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.

You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.

You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.

You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.

You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.

You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.

You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.

You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.

You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.

You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.

You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.

You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.

You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Stage Of Life...

You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.

You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.

You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.

You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.

You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.

You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.

You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.

You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.

You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.

You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.

You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.

You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.

You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.

You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.

You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

For The Love Of My Life

You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.

You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.

You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.

You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.

You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.

You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.

You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.

You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.

You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.

You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.

You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.

You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.

You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.

You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.

You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Mother Of Pain and Of Joy

You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.

You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.

You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.

You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.

You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.

You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.

You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.

You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.

You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.

You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.

You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.

You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.

You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.

You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.

You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

022-You Are The Pain and The Joy

You are the Pain and the joy
on the stage of life.

You are the pain hunger and the joy
of food on ones table.

You are the pain of the homeless,
and the joy, of the home,
in His heart.

You are the pain on a bitter,
winter day and the joy, in
the warmth of the sun.

You are the pain and joy, in the
solitude, of those moments alone.

You are the pain and joy, that
lingers in ones heart.

You are the pain in music that is bad,
and you are the joy, in my song
of life.

You are the pain, in the tragedies
of the world, and the joy in the
goodness of people.

You are the pain of the orphans of
the street, and the joy, in a
mothers love.

You are the pain, in a sometime unjust
world, and the joy in the spirit
of ones heart.

You are the pain, in the loss of
loved ones, and the joy, when they
are seated at His table.

You are the pain of self destructive
addiction and the joy in redemption.

You are the pain, in the sicknesses of
this world, and the joy in the
hope of recovery.

You are the pain in the misery of the poor,
and disenfranchise, and the joy, in
the parts of society, that attempts to,
raise them up.

You are the pain and you are the joy,
in all things. For you see, in life, there
can not be joy...unless there is pain.

poem by Waldon Pond Productions
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Out Of The Silence

Here in the silence cometh unto me
A song that is not mine,
With wash of waves along the cold shore line,
And sob of wind, and rain upon the sea.
It is the song and message of the dead!
Around my soul to-night
I feel the kinship of the Infinite,
I hear the sound of voices that are fled.

And as beneath the viewless angel’s wing
Bethesda’s pool was stirred,
My heart is troubled by the mystic word
Of one who through my soul and lips would sing.

There is no note of wailing in the strain,
But resonant and deep,
Out of the vastness, doth the music sweep,
Into the silence dieth it again.

To breaking hearts it saith, “Be comforted.
With secret pain and tears
And night-long penance thro’ the torturing years
Vex not the spirits of the mighty dead.”

“Weep not thine error done, thy thought untold
Shall not their vision be
Subtler than ours, more delicate to see
All that the fulness of the heart can hold?”

“Make not by grief an evil of their good!
Where the Immortal look
Life’s hidden secrets are an open book,
All thou hast felt is known and understood.”

Out of the silence thro’ my soul to thine,
From realms unknown,
A breath of tenderness from far lips blown
Floats, with the promise of a Peace Divine.

And soaring thro’ the shadows where we grope
A mighty cadence rings,
A spirit moves with morning on its wings—
The Voice and Vision of Eternal Hope!

poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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3 New Babies

CITY

We all came to the CITY
This city of love, joy & pain
We wet ourselves in the RAIN
We hurt ourselves again
We told them we wont CRY! !
We told them of the pain Inside,
Wouldn't lead us to DIE! !

But oh, we lied, we lied 2 them.
2 those who HURT us over & ova again....

For only those who HURT can Heal
Only then can the pain Reveal! !

to free us all, us all.... from the EVIL! !

The evil inside us all

LIFE 2
Sometimes I wonder why! ! Why I was
Chosen 2 LIVE this life! !

to hurt and cry and scream and pray,
to love & hate & then Betray! !

for some, it comes 2 easy@ hand, ,
For some, it leaves before we plan! !

For Life is an unwritten RULE......
& over it we all try 2 RULE! !

but he who thought so was a FOOL! !

a fool until his DYING DAY! !

For over life, he might RULE....

But DEATH...................it rules us all! ! ! ! !

WAY
Someday we all find a WAY! !
a WAY to find our own sweet WAY! !

Just Wipe the tears that I have cried! !
Just say the things that I have tried! !

For once we find a way,
a person 2 LOVE, a place 2 stay! !

Then life is oh but a sweet treat
a dream................that one might just meet

For when the RIGHT one comes along,
My heart breaks into a Song! !

A song so long it never ends,

A hurt so hard it never mends,

For that, my Dear.....................is the way,

the WAY 2 WIN Ma heart! ! !

poem by Kaavyaa Kriday
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Vision Of Christ

There fell on me a dream when days were gray,
And Hope had left me there to grope alone
Amid the silence of an unknown way
Vaulted with night and paved with barren stone,
Wherein such awful stillness held the air,
’Twere comfort but to breathe one’s own despair.
Till in my terror called I Him, who bore
The whole world’s sin upon His sinless soul,
Saying:—“O mighty Heart, whose Godhead wore,
E’en as a garment, all our pain and dole,
Touch Thou my soul with fire; and let there be
Some meed of Godhead even unto me!”

Then from the purple dark I saw arise,
Silent, the pale form of the Nazarene,
With deathless light of message in His eyes,
And that vast human pity in His mien,
Purer than purest depths of summer skies,
Not less unfathomed and not less serene.

“Brother,” He answered, “Wilt thou call to Me
As to a God and worship where I tread?
Cold were the splendour of My victory
If, dowered with Godhead, I for man had bled,
Who fell, a warrior battling in the van,
To prove to men what man can do for man.”

“For thro’ all Ages, on untrodden ways,
Heart-sick and weary in the desperate fight,
Earth shall bring forth the harvest of her days—
Her strong deliverers leading to the light.
And all who follow Truth and who have trod
Her bitter pathways are the Sons of God!”

poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lux In Tenebris

When first the Gods, whose Empire is eternal,
In Time’s deep chalice poured Life’s sacred wine,
Flashed all the crystal cup with fire supernal;
Then said they: “Shall the mortal be divine?
Shall man usurp the ways the Gods have trod?
Who quaffs this cup, himself should be a God!”
So tempered they the measure of their giving,
And mingled germs of evil with the good;
So mixed they death with the fierce fire of living,
And anguish with the joy of motherhood;
And with the balm of peace a weird unrest,
And an unformed desire in every breast.

So set they discord in the sweetest singing,
And a sharp thorn about the fairest rose;
And doubt around the cross where faith was clinging,
And fear to haunt the regions of repose;
And dimmed men’s eyes, so that they should not see,
Like Gods, the vistas of futurity.

They coloured failure with hope’s rainbow splendour,
And tinged the hour of triumph with regret;
Made strength subservient to the weak and tender,
And wisdom, folly-caught in beauty’s net;
Till unto man life’s wine was bitter-sweet—
Betwixt the perfect and the incomplete.

Then said the Gods—the Gods who live for ever—
“Let us shower gifts upon the soul of man,
That he may catch a glimpse of our endeavour,
And yet not solve the Universal Plan.
For, though Life’s deepest truths be near to find,
Man shall behold and see not, being blind!”

Thus, to the blessing of the Gods descending,
The universal curse and shadow clung;
The mystic evil with the glory blending
That mars the aeons since the world was young.
For upon all whom the High Gods had blest
There fell the quenchless fever of unrest.

Then rose a ferment and an exaltation,
And all men’s souls were thrilled and stirred within.
There came a prophet unto every nation
To teach new doctrines of the source of sin;
And men arose as Gods, and creeds began
To preach th’ Eternal Godhead one with man.

And ever, thro’ all lands, with waves sonorous,
Rolled on from age to age the stream of song
Which made low valleys sweet with rhythmic chorus,
And shook the rock-bound hills with music strong,
And flushed and fired men’s souls like fumes of wine—
Yet was but human! . . . not a song divine!

For, lo! thro’ all that seemeth inspiration
Enters the curse that blurs created things;
Beyond the barriers of our limitation
Not ever yet a soul has spread its wings!
Nor has been yet, nor ever shall there be,
A perfect song—a perfect harmony!

O music of the wind and of the ocean!—
O Power that sways the glory of the spheres!
O aching hearts that vibrate with emotion!
O mystery of Life! O human tears!
What light shall lead us thro’ the wilderness
From out the Egypt of our bitterness?

O Poets, round whose souls, since the beginning,
Strange echoes tremble and wild visions throng,
Ye all have heard the sweetness of the singing,
But no man knows the meaning of the song
That lifts our frail souls heavenwards with its strain—
Then flings us bleeding to the earth again!

Brothers, my soul has quickened with your gladness.
I, too, have sorrowed over human woe.
I, too, have felt the terror and the madness
That all who seek for truth and light must know.
My faint heart falters in the bitter strife—
The labyrinths of the mysteries of Life.

What hope—what comfort—in our desolation?
What ray to pierce the blackness of our night?
To weary hearts, what balm of consolation
That earth is finite, heaven is infinite?
What tho’ the hand of Faith still points the way—
The voice of Reason ever brings delay.

Nay! tho’ Life’s secret be beyond our dreaming,
And all the creeds that sway the world untrue,
A radiance creeps aslant the shadows gleaming
Whose golden arrows pierce the darkness thro’.
If all our errors hold one germ of right,
The paths that lead to truth are infinite!

Throughout all nature and throughout creation
A Power Supreme its manual sign has writ.
In pain and stress, thro’ aeons of gradation,
Shall the weak soul of man decipher it;
For, since the spirit is above the clay,
Man shall not know th’ Eternal in a day.

Yet, tho’ we know not their immortal places,
And tho’ their footsteps are not heard of man,
And tho’ with mystery they veil their faces
And bid us search the Universal Plan,
And tho’ to all there cometh with Life’s breath
Suffering, and doubt, and weariness, and death—

I sing Eternal Hope and Strong Endeavour,
Truth shining down a myriad aisles of thought;
I sing the deathless souls of men, for ever
By strange, wild paths to one vast triumph brought.
The God in Man—the hunger of the soul—
One with the Wisdom that inspires the Whole!

poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maud: A Monodrama (Part II, excerpt)

.

O that 'twere possible
.

After long grief and pain
.

To find the arms of my true love
.

Round me once again!2.

When I was wont to meet her
.

In the silent woody places
.

By the home that gave me birth,
.

We stood tranced in long embraces
.

Mixt with kisses sweeter sweeter
.

Than anything on earth.2.

A shadow flits before me,
.

Not thou, but like to thee:
.

Ah Christ, that it were possible
.

For one short hour to see
.

The souls we loved, that they might tell us
.

What and where they be.2.

It leads me forth at evening,
.

It lightly winds and steals
.

In a cold white robe before me,
.

When all my spirit reels
.

At the shouts, the leagues of lights,
.

And the roaring of the wheels.2.

Half the night I waste in sighs,
.

Half in dreams I sorrow after
.

The delight of early skies;
.

In a wakeful doze I sorrow
.

For the hand, the lips, the eyes,
.

For the meeting of the morrow,
.

The delight of happy laughter,
.

The delight of low replies.2.

'Tis a morning pure and sweet,
.

And a dewy splendour falls
.

On the little flower that clings
.

To the turrets and the walls;
.

'Tis a morning pure and sweet,
.

And the light and shadow fleet;
.

She is walking in the meadow,
.

And the woodland echo rings;
.

In a moment we shall meet;
.

She is singing in the meadow,
.

And the rivulet at her feet
.

Ripples on in light and shadow
.

To the ballad that she sings.2.

So I hear her sing as of old,
.

My bird with the shining head,
.

My own dove with the tender eye?
.

But there rings on a sudden a passionate cry,
.

There is some one dying or dead,
.

And a sullen thunder is roll'd;
.

For a tumult shakes the city,
.

And I wake, my dream is fled;
.

In the shuddering dawn, behold,
.

Without knowledge, without pity,
.

By the curtains of my bed
.

That abiding phantom cold.2.

Get thee hence, nor come again,
.

Mix not memory with doubt,
.

Pass, thou deathlike type of pain,
.

Pass and cease to move about!
.

'Tis the blot upon the brain
.

That will show itself without.2.

Then I rise, the eave-drops fall,
.

And the yellow vapours choke
.

The great city sounding wide;
.

The day comes, a dull red ball
.

Wrapt in drifts of lurid smoke
.

On the misty river-tide.2.

Thro' the hubbub of the market
.

I steal, a wasted frame;
.

It crosses here, it crosses there,
.

Thro' all that crowd confused and loud,
.

The shadow still the same;
.

And on my heavy eyelids
.

My anguish hangs like shame.2.

Alas for her that met me,
.

That heard me softly call,
.

Came glimmering thro' the laurels
.

At the quiet evenfall,
.

In the garden by the turrets
.

Of the old manorial hall.2.

Would the happy spirit descend
.

From the realms of light and song,
.

In the chamber or the street,
.

As she looks among the blest,
.

Should I fear to greet my friend
.

Or to say "Forgive the wrong,"
.

Or to ask her, "Take me, sweet,
.

To the regions of thy rest"?2.

But the broad light glares and beats,
.

And the shadow flits and fleets
.

And will not let me be;
.

And I loathe the squares and streets,
.

And the faces that one meets,
.

Hearts with no love for me:
.

Always I long to creep
.

Into some still cavern deep,
.

There to weep, and weep, and weep
.

My whole soul out to thee....

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All This Joy

This song appears on two albums, and was first released on the higher ground album, and has also been released on the gift you are and the john denver collection - annies song albums.
All this joy, all this sorrow
All this promise, all this pain
Such is life, such is being
Such is spirit, such is love
City of joy, city of sorrow
City of promise, city of pain
Such is life, such is being
Such is spirit, such is love
World of joy, world of sorrow
World of promise, world of pain
Such is life, such is being
Such is spirit, such is love
All this joy, all this sorrow
All this promise, all this pain
Such is life, such is being
Such is spirit, such is love
Such is spirit, such is love
Words and music by john denver

song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Grave By The Sea

No white cloud sails the lonely sky,
Thro’ the gaunt trees no breezes sigh,
Thro’ the lush grass no fall of feet;
No song of bird in all the land,
But, floating faintly, dreamily,
The distant dirge of waves that beat
In discontent upon the sand.
Here, where all Nature seems aswoon,
Time, languid as a summer stream,
Drifts down the sweet soft afternoon;
And Death, discrowned of terror, brings
Surcease to souls that wake not soon,
And casts above Life’s fevered dream
Cool shadows of Immortal Wings.

Here, by the old graves overgrown,
A bare mound, without wreath or stone,
Marks where he sleeps ’mid grasses long,
Who sought not things that others seek,
Who fought in silence and alone,
Who in his weakness was so strong
And in his strength so weak.

The shining years shall glide and go,
The human tides shall ebb and flow,
And Love make sweet the days to be,
And Death make smooth the brow of pain,
But no such heart again shall glow,
And no such friend shall come to me
Thro’ all the cycles that remain.

Some pass and perish with their breath;
He liveth yet and quickeneth,
As scent of roses on the wind
Recalls the bygone summer’s day;
He leaves this side the seas of Death,
The fragrance of a noble mind:
He dies, but passes not away.

poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Nowhere Looking Eyes

All you city people
moving listlessly
restlessly rushingly.
I love you. Yet I cannot
stay or live in subterranean
chambers. Entombed
within towering edifices
grandly stylishly proud
with splendent future hope.

All born
within same city
whose crumbling masonry
confronts me like ruins
of broken hope. On train
your busy nowhere looking
eyes, sightless do not see.
They do not hold my eyes.
Trains go on and so must I.

I love motion movement
of busy bustling subway.
Riding layered escalators
within maze labyrinth
of possible platforms.
Watching patchwork people
some with choked soulful
eyes, others vital very much alive.
A host of stories pass on by.

Laughing longing moving
in need in pain in greed.
Thoughts flicker across faces
the presence pale felt
shown of passing soul.
Merging intersecting these
conflicting person’s races.
Immiscible incapable
of becoming homogeneous.

Oil and water will not mix.
Only in tourist fresh
stolen week in London
wonder seen retained
of visit was contained.

But stories go on
like ever changing lines;
written in lyric song.
Singers some remembered
may come or go
but music continues;
emerging styles
some mixes are better so.
I love the subway trains
so swift fast clean
knowing; where they are going.

Ordered stations constant,
with ease, flash on by.
All you city people,
moving listlessly
restlessly rushingly.
Will you make a place,
here for me? Or watch
or watch me fall?
Like a spent building.
Now unwanted space cleared
for planned future need.

poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Despair

Thy wings swoop darkening round my soul, Despair!
And on my brain thy shadow seems to brood
And hem me round with stifling solitude,
With chasms of vacuous bloom which are thy lair.
No light of human joy, no song or prayer,
Breaks ever on this chaos, all imbrued
With heart's-blood trickling from the multitude
Of sweet hopes slain, or agonising there.

Lo, wilt thou yield thyself to grief, and roll
Vanquished from thy high seat, imperial brain,
And abdicating turbulent life's control,
Be dragged a captive bound in sorrow's chain?
Nay! though my heart is breaking with its pain,
No pain on earth has power to crush my soul.

poem by Mathilde Blind
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Naked City

All the victims have turned to stone, no one is happy, theyre all alone
Id sacrifice my social position tonight
In new york, millionaires, and lonely people with lonely stares
Im not lookin for love and Im lost in this night
In the naked city (in the city) there are ten million stories (naked city)
Im not lookin for pity (in the city) in this naked city (naked city)
Street vampires in the night, young lovers and love at first sight
This is my flesh and my fantasy
Older women with younger men, Ive got a feelin Im in trouble again
But Ive got to live my destiny
In the naked city (in the city) its a race with the devil (naked city)
All the pain and the sorrow (in the city) is there more tomorrow (naked city)
In the naked, naked city (in the city) naked city
Lonely people lookin for someone, lonely people goin their way
Lonely people lookin for something, lonely people goin their way
In new york, millionaires, lonely people with lonely stares
Im not lookin for love and Im lost in this night
In the naked city, there are ten million stories
Im not lookin for pity in this naked city
In the naked, naked city (in the city), its a race with the devil (naked city)
All the pain and the sorrow (in the city) is there more tomorrow (naked city)
(in the city, naked city) (repeats out)

song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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