The Poetry Of Wordsworth
A breath of the mountains, fresh born in the regions majestic,
That look with their eye-daring summits deep into the sky.
The voice of great Nature; sublime with her lofty conceptions,
Yet earnest and simple as any sweet child of the green lowly vale.
poem by George Meredith
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Poetry
THE POETRY OF CHAUCER
Grey with all honours of age! but fresh-featured and ruddy
As dawn when the drowsy farm-yard has thrice heard Chaunticlere.
Tender to tearfulness-childlike, and manly, and motherly;
Here beats true English blood richest joyance on sweet English ground.
THE POETRY OF SPENSER
Lakes where the sunsheen is mystic with splendour and softness;
Vales where sweet life is all Summer with golden romance:
Forests that glimmer with twilight round revel-bright palaces;
Here in our May-blood we wander, careering 'mongst ladies and knights.
THE POETRY OF SHAKESPEARE
Picture some Isle smiling green 'mid the white-foaming ocean; -
Full of old woods, leafy wisdoms, and frolicsome fays;
Passions and pageants; sweet love singing bird-like above it;
Life in all shapes, aims, and fates, is there warm'd by one great human heart.
THE POETRY OF MILTON
Like to some deep-chested organ whose grand inspiration,
Serenely majestic in utterance, lofty and calm,
Interprets to mortals with melody great as its burthen
The mystical harmonies chiming for ever throughout the bright spheres.
THE POETRY OF SOUTHEY
Keen as an eagle whose flight towards the dim empyrean
Fearless of toil or fatigue ever royally wends!
Vast in the cloud-coloured robes of the balm-breathing Orient
Lo! the grand Epic advances, unfolding the humanest truth.
THE POETRY OF COLERIDGE
A brook glancing under green leaves, self-delighting, exulting,
And full of a gurgling melody ever renewed -
Renewed thro' all changes of Heaven, unceasing in sunlight,
Unceasing in moonlight, but hushed in the beams of the holier orb.
THE POETRY OF SHELLEY
See'st thou a Skylark whose glistening winglets ascending
Quiver like pulses beneath the melodious dawn?
Deep in the heart-yearning distance of heaven it flutters -
Wisdom and beauty and love are the treasures it brings down at eve.
THE POETRY OF WORDSWORTH
A breath of the mountains, fresh born in the regions majestic,
That look with their eye-daring summits deep into the sky.
The voice of great Nature; sublime with her lofty conceptions,
Yet earnest and simple as any sweet child of the green lowly vale.
THE POETRY OF KEATS
The song of a nightingale sent thro' a slumbrous valley,
Low-lidded with twilight, and tranced with the dolorous sound,
Tranced with a tender enchantment; the yearning of passion
That wins immortality even while panting delirious with death.
poem by George Meredith
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A Child Is Sweet Any Day Of The Week
A child that's born on a Monday
holds beauty in sight and mind.
A child that's born on a Tuesday
is graceful, sweet and kind.
A child that's born on a Wednesday
is a treasure, so they say.
A child that 's born on a Thursday
sees a quest with each new day.
A child that's born on a Friday
is loving and freely gives.
A child that's born on a Saturday
shows great work through how they live.
A child that's born on a Sunday
is happy, carefree and gay.
I guess you could say that a child is
special, no matter what the day.
poem by Christine K. Trease
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High and Low
The grasses green of sweet content
That spring, no matter high or low,
Where’er a living thing can grow,
On chilly hills and rocky rent,
And by the lowly streamlet’s side
Oh! why did e’er I turn from these?
The lordly, tall, umbrageous trees,
That stand in high aspiring pride,
With massive bulk on high sustain
A world of boughs with leaf and fruits,
And drive their wide-extending roots
Deep down into the subject plain.
Oh, what with these had I to do?
That germs of things above their kind
May live, pent up and close confined
In humbler forms, it may be true;
Yet great is that which gives our lot;
High laws and powers our will transcend,
And not for this, till time do end,
Shall any be what he is not.
Each in its place, as each was sent,
Just nature ranges side by side;
Alike the oak tree’s lofty pride
And grasses green of sweet content.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sonnet- A Most Wonderful Christmas
This Christmas brings with it especial joy,
Not all can get even in their lifetime;
Like Jesus Christ, is born a baby-boy;
To make your family-life, still more sublime.
0 thank the Lord, the child was born alright;
0 thank the Lord, the child was born with ease;
0 thank the Lord, the child has senses right;
O thank the Lord, the child has no disease.
If boy or girl, it does not matter much;
God's gift of yet another child is great;
On mother's birthday born- what magic touch?
Miraculous, an event until date.
Maybe, God plans to give you one more try!
So make merry but never must you cry.
poem by John Celes
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To Astronomers
Prate not to me so much of suns and of nebulous bodies;
Think ye Nature but great, in that she gives thee to count?
Though your object may be the sublimest that space holds within it,
Yet, my good friends, the sublime dwells not in the regions of space.
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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The Poetry Of Milton
Like to some deep-chested organ whose grand inspiration,
Serenely majestic in utterance, lofty and calm,
Interprets to mortals with melody great as its burthen
The mystical harmonies chiming for ever throughout the bright
spheres.
poem by George Meredith
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Swing High, Sweet Child.
When you awake,
Do you smell the fresh air?
When you arise,
Do you rejoice your sacred life?
Nature's tree,
Standing tall, looking in a fixed stare,
Nature's wind,
Cutting away, sharp as an blood stained knife,
Swing high sweet child,
The Earth is here forever,
Swing low little darling,
Watch as the branchs sway,
Nature's sea,
Will seize to be drained,
Nature's Rock,
Rejoices in a sweet symphonic praise
When you die,
Will you miss the fresh air?
When you fall,
Will you forget the true beauty of life?
Nature's tree,
Will continue to stand and stare,
Nature's wind,
Will continue cutting, this time a clean knife.
poem by Nate Orvis
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Behind Green Eyes
You say her eyes are so bright and green
peircing you, your interested in whats within those green eyes
I look hard, deep into the mirror, I see them and they are not so clear
You may see lightness but within them there is darkness
Your daring her to jump, to take that leap
Knowing there will be troubles the she shall meet
You want her to live a fairy tale
Well she have something of a tall tell tale
Once was a girl so innocent and oh so sweet
She reached for a star, only to get burned that left a horrid scar
many cannot see
behind those green green, that looks so sweet
deep within them she is troubled and she weeps
For the star that burned her left a deep imprint of whats really out there
now very rarley she sees a bright brillant star
she hardly looks up for if she does she knows the troubles she shall meet
dare she to dream, dare she to take that gaint leap
there is a garuntee she will kick and scream
behind those green eyes is something you do not want to see
but maybe one day she shall be free
poem by Ashley Dowdy
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Euphoria
After the showers
The sky is clear
Where ever eyes traverse
Everything is crystal clear
The mountains
Look majestic as never before
Fixed where they were
But closer they appear
Mystical air envelopes them
Scattered clouds
Add to the beauty
Rejuvenating the libido
With thoughts travelling not beyond those majestic looks
As just before a baby is born
The mother
Is enveloped
With mystical powers
Each movement of hers
Crystal clear
And majestic in content.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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Jesus, Oh What A Wonderful Child
Jesus, jesus
Oh what a wonderful child
Jesus, jesus
So lowly meek and mild
New life, new hope, new joy he brings
Wont you listen to the angels sing
Glory, glory, glory
To the new born king
Jesus, jesus
Oh what a wonderful child
Jesus, jesus
So lowly meek and mild
New life, new hope, new joy he brings
Wont you listen to the angels sing
Glory, glory, glory
To the new born king
He was herald by the angels
Born in a lowly manger
The virgin mary was his mother
And joseph was his earthly father
Three wise men came from afar
They were guided by a shining star
To see king jesus where he lay
In a manger filled with hay
Jesus, jesus
Oh what a wonderful child
Jesus, jesus
So lowly meek and mild
Oh new joy he brings
Wont you listen to the angels sing
Glory
To the new born king
Oh jesus
Jesus
Marys baby
Lamb of god
Heavenly child
Jesus
Jesus
I love him
Oh jesus
All mighty god
King of kings
Oh jesus
Oh jesus
Oh, oh, oh, jesus
Wonderful, wonderful one
Oh, oh
Oh jesus
Oh jesus
Son of god
Oh jesus
Glory...
To the new born king, yeah...
song performed by by Mariah Carey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Village Girl And Her High-Born Suitor
“O maiden, peerless, come dwell with me,
And bright shall I render thy destiny:
Thou shalt leave thy cot by the green hillside,
To dwell in a palace home of pride,
Where crowding menials, with lowly mien,
Shall attend each wish of their lovely queen.”
“Ah! stranger my cot by the green hillside
Hath more charms for me than thy halls of pride;
If the roof be lowly, the moss rose there
Rich fragrance sheds on the summer air;
And the birds and insects, with joyous song,
Are more welcome far than a menial throng.”
“Child, tell me not so! too fair art thou,
With thy starry eyes and thy queenlike brow,
To dwell in this spot, sequestered and lone,
Thy marvelous beauty to all unknown;
And that form, which might grace a throne, arrayed
In the lowly garb of a peasant maid.”
“Nay, a few short days since didst thou not say
That I in my rustic kirtle gray
In thine eyes looked lovelier fairer far
Than robed in rich state as court ladies are;
And the wreath of violets in my hair
Pleased thee more than diamond or ruby rare.”
“Beloved! if thus coldly thou turn’st aside
From the tempting lures of wealth and pride,
Sure thy woman’s heart must some pity own
For one who breathes for thy self alone,
And who would brave suffering, grief and toil
To win from thy rose lips one shy, sweet smile.”
“Ah! enough of this—thy love may be true,
But I have tried friends who love me too;
And in proud homes governed by fashion’s voice,
Thou would’st learn to blush for thy lowly choice.
Go, seek thee a noble, a high born bride,
And leave me my cot by the green hillside!”
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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A Child Is Angel Ever!
Any child is a sweet little angel anywhere!
Idea of angel would have evolved by child!
Child nature and Universal Spirit are God.
Born of love child is the sense of joy ever
That gives hope to family to pull on well
And the cheerful mood gives confidence!
Smiling as freshly bloomed flower child is
Cynosure of all everywhere moving all
To do great things at least to keep her joy!
We have to make the world better at least
For the child to live better in joy than us..
We have to do best things to make it better!
Child is God in the human form ever to lead
All in cheerful mood to cherish love and hope!
poem by Ramesh T A
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I am an African
Not because im black.
But because my heart warms
And tears run down my face
When i think about AFRICA.
I am an African,
Not because i live here,
But because the African
Sun lit my paths.
Because the air that i breath
Is from these majestic mountains.
That air nurtured me
Growing up.
I am an African,
Not because i can speak
Swahili, Shona, Zulu or Xhosa.
But because my heart is
Shaped like a question mark,
Just like AFRICA.
I am an African,
Not because i am black,
But because my umbilical cord
Is burried under the majestic
Mountains of AFRICA.
poem by Siyabonga A nxumalo
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Friendship; Thy Glory is In Simplicity!
All Glorious friendship blossom in simple hearts,
The heart that free of fear,
Full of understanding,
Simple, yet full of love,
Colourless it shines, absorbing all goodness of friend!
Glory of Friendship is in its simplicity,
No complications, no anger,
No rejections,
Accepts friend's weakness as it is,
Goodness of all sort, in sharing the pain,
Just like channel to share flooding feelings!
Friendship is as simple as a plane mirror,
Showing friend his perfect image,
Neither concave, nor convex,
No blind spots!
Friendship is as white and fragrant as fresh jasmine,
Or may be like a lotus,
Raising above all weakness,
Friendship is streamlined flow,
No eddies, neither rocks nor cliff,
Friendship flows like river, valley of life green,
between mountains of bitterness of life!
Shine with daffodils sweet Of feelings,
wavy of smile and brows arching upward,
Glittering eyes, light will those hearts feel,
Friends are not like the pairs, lilly and Moon,
Sunflower and Sun!
It is like river and its banks,
Ocean and its shore,
One move another like
clouds and wind,
One smile at other, as innocent as a child,
No sympathy, only great tune of Love
symphony of
understanding hearts,
As simple as blue sky without clouds!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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To The Painted Columbine
Bright image of the early years
When glowed my cheek as red as thou,
And life's dark throng of cares and fears
Were swift-winged shadows o'er my sunny brow!
Thou blushest from the painter's page,
Robed in the mimic tints of art;
But Nature's hand in youth's green age
With fairer hues first traced thee on my heart.
The morning's blush, she made it thine,
The morn's sweet breath, she gave it thee,
And in thy look, my Columbine!
Each fond-remembered spot she bade me see.
I see the hill's far-gazing head,
Where gay thou noddest in the gale;
I hear light-bounding footsteps tread
The grassy path that winds along the vale.
I hear the voice of woodland song
Break from each bush and well-known tree,
And on light pinions borne along,
Comes back the laugh from childhood's heart of glee.
O'er the dark rock the dashing brook,
With look of anger, leaps again,
And, hastening to each flowery nook,
Its distant voice is heard far down the glen.
Fair child of art! thy charms decay,
Touched by the withered hand of Time;
And hushed the music of that day,
When my voice mingled with the streamlet's chime;
But on my heart thy cheek of bloom
Shall live when Nature's smile has fled;
And, rich with memory's sweet perfume,
Shall o'er her grave thy tribute incense shed.
There shalt thou live and wake the glee
That echoed on thy native hill;
And when, loved flower! I think of thee,
My infant feet will seem to seek thee still.
poem by Jones Very
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Majestic Beauty
She sat atop a hill
And was struck by
The beauty that lay
At her feet
The billowing clouds
Floated in a sky of blue
The mountain stood tall
That engulfed in its
Majestic beauty
As far as the eye can see
The grass as green
As the meadows of spring
The morning sunshine
Shines down upon you
Its beauty, its splendors
At Mother Natures poetic strings
Caressing the child
That looks with innocent eyes
That moves your soul
And takes your breath away
Oh what a sight
That befalls unto thee
Are we not lucky to be?
Apart of this Majestic scene
poem by Kaila George
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A Sparrow's Thoughts....
we live our lives communing
with angels and demons, that
dwell within us.
whose voice do we hear?
whose image do we bear?
whose work do we do?
the most profound truths,
often so simple,
that it confuses us!
deep wisdom lies in the conversations
between real people
daring to be honest.
deep wisdom, and healing!
and the ears that have eyes,
are the wings of the eternal!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Over The Lofty Mountains
Wonder I must, what I once may see
Over the lofty mountains!
Eyes shall meet only snow, may be;
Standing here, each evergreen tree
Over the heights is yearning;--
Will it be long in learning?
Pinions strong bear the eagle away
Over the lofty mountains
Forth to the young and vigorous day;
There he exults in the swift, wild play,
Rests where his spirit orders,--
Sees all the wide world's borders.
Full-leaved the apple-tree wishes naught
Over the lofty mountains!
Spreading, when summer hither is brought,
Waiting till next time in its thought;
Many a bird it is swinging,
Knowing not what they are singing.
He who has longed for twenty years
Over the lofty mountains,
He who knows that he never nears,
Smaller feels with the lapsing years,
Heeds what the bird is singing
Cheerily to its swinging.
Garrulous bird, what will you here
Over the lofty mountains?
Surely your nest was there less drear,
Taller the trees, the outlook clear;--
Will you then only bring me
Longings, but naught to wing me?
Shall I then never, never go
Over the lofty mountains?
Shall to my thoughts this wall say,--No!
Stand with terror of ice and snow,
Barring the way unwended,
Coffin me when life is ended?
Out will I! Out!--Oh, so far, far, far,
Over the lofty mountains!
Here is this cramping, confining bar,
Baffling my thoughts, that so buoyant are;--
Lord! Let me try the scaling,
Suffer no final failing!
Sometime I know I shall rise and soar
Over the lofty mountains.
Hast Thou already ajar Thy door?--
Good is Thy home! Yet, Lord, I implore,
Hold not the gates asunder,--
Leave me my longing wonder!
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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My Deep
You're more lovely than all the shades
of greens and purples of any precious garden.
You're my most dreamless sleep,
my green, my cool and dark and deep.
Your smile's worth more than all the jewels
within the earth, begging at your feet.
Hot and humid, overtired. I beg for sleep!
My fresh, my green, my dark and deep.
My purple! Oh, for a dreamless sleep!
My green, my cool, my dark and deep.
You are sweeter than summer night's jasmine
and brighter than the sun's morning laughter.
My Prince, my man, my green lovely, my sleep!
my best, my fresh, my cool, my dark and deep.
poem by Guy Peppin
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Inner Child
Fight the bonds with growing older
Listen to the child in your heart
Resist the urge to let it go
Don't let two great things fall apart
Step away from the normalcy
Keep your imagination bright
Run from the creative blocks
That attack you from left and right
Keep finding joy in the simple things
Like a rainbow in the sky
Keep being thankful for living
Yet be unafraid to die
There is this child deep inside
That you can't let society take away
Don't let them kill the creative spark
Without this child it cannot stay
Don't let them strangle you with maturity
And please don't try to grow up too fast
Appreciate life's simple treasures
So you can help your Inner Child last
poem by Tatianna Rei Moonshadow
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