The Means To Attain A Happy Life.
MARTIAL, the things that do attain
The happy life, be these, I find :
The riches left, not got with pain ;
The fruitful ground, the quiet mind :
The equal friend, no grudge, no strife ;
No charge of rule, nor governance ;
Without disease, the healthful life ;
The household of continuance :
The mean diet, no delicate fare ;
True wisdom join'd with simpleness ;
The night discharged of all care,
Where wine the wit may not oppress :
The faithful wife, without debate ;
Such sleeps as may beguile the night.
Contented with thine own estate ;
Ne wish for Death, ne fear his might.
poem by Henry Howard
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Related quotes
The Means to attain Happy Life
MARTIAL, the things that do attain
The happy life be these, I find:--
The richesse left, not got with pain;
The fruitful ground, the quiet mind;
The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;
No charge of rule, nor governance;
Without disease, the healthful life;
The household of continuance;
The mean diet, no delicate fare;
True wisdom join'd with simpleness;
The night discharged of all care,
Where wine the wit may not oppress.
The faithful wife, without debate;
Such sleeps as may beguile the night:
Contented with thine own estate
Ne wish for death, ne fear his might.
The Things that Cause a Quiet Life
My friend, the things that do attain
The happy life be these, I find:
The riches left, not got with pain,
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind;
The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;
No charge of rule nor governance;
Without disease the healthy life;
The household of continuance;
The mean diet, no dainty fare;
True wisdom joined with simpleness;
The night discharged of all care,
Where wine the wit may not oppress;
The faithful wife, without debate;
Such sleeps as may beguile the night:
Content thyself with thine estate,
Neither wish death, nor fear his might.
poem by Henry Howard
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Stanzas
Oh, weep not, love! each tear that springs
In those dear eyes of thine,
To me a keener suffering brings,
Than if they flowed from mine.
And do not droop! however drear
The fate awaiting thee;
For my sake combat pain and care,
And cherish life for me!
I do not fear thy love will fail;
Thy faith is true, I know;
But, oh, my love! thy strength is frail
For such a life of woe.
Were't not for this, I well could trace
(Though banished long from thee,)
Life's rugged path, and boldly face
The storms that threaten me.
Fear not for me - I've steeled my mind
Sorrow and strife to greet;
Joy with my love I leave behind,
Care with my friends I meet.
A mother's sad reproachful eye,
A father's scowling brow -
But he may frown and she may sigh:
I will not break my vow!
I love my mother, I revere
My sire, but fear not me
Believe that Death alone can tear
This faithful heart from thee.
poem by Anne Brontë from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Parting Address From Z.Z. To A.E.
O weep not, love! each tear that springs
In those dear eyes of thine,
To me a keener suffering brings
Than if they flowed from mine.
And do not droop! however drear
The fate awaiting thee.
For my sake, combat pain and care,
And cherish life for me!
I do not fear thy love will fail,
Thy faith is true I know;
But O! my love! thy strength is frail
For such a life of woe.
Were't not for this, I well could trace
(Though banished long from thee)
Life's rugged path, and boldly face
The storms that threaten me.
Fear not for me - I've steeled my mind
Sorrow and strife to greet,
Joy with my love I leave behind,
Care with my friends I meet.
A mother's sad reproachful eye,
A father's scowling brow
But he may frown, and she may sigh;
I will not break my vow!
I love my mother, I revere
My sire, but doubt not me.
Believe that Death alone can tear
This faithful heart from thee.
poem by Anne Brontë
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Widow's Hymn
How near me came the hand of Death,
When at my side he struck my dear,
And took away the precious breath
Which quicken’d my belovàd peer!1
How helpless am I thereby made!
By day how grieved, by night how sad!
And now my life’s delight is gone,
—Alas! how am I left alone!
The voice which I did more esteem
Than music in her sweetest key,
Those eyes which unto me did seem
More comfortable than the day;
Those now by me, as they have been,
Shall never more be heard or seen;
But what I once enjoy’d in them
Shall seem hereafter as a dream.
Lord! keep me faithful to the trust
Which my dear spouse reposed in me:
To him now dead preserve me just
In all that should performàd be!
For though our being man and wife
Extendeth only to this life,
Yet neither life nor death should end
The being of a faithful friend.
poem by George Wither
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Death, My Dear Old Friend
Can you tell me
what it feels like,
to be afraid of death?
I do not know
what it's like
to fear death.
Death,
I am not scared.
Why should I be?
I am nothing
If I die
Nothing would change
NO tears would be shed
No one would care
No one would notice
So why should I fear death?
Others don't value my life
And I certainly don't
People think I'm happy!
They believe this mask I wear!
They believe all my bullsh*t!
I have no fear
Death is my friend!
And I welcome him with open arms!
So can you tell me
What is fear?
What is death?
Why should I fear death?
Why should I care?
Am I even important?
poem by David Zhukov
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I Go To God
I need to wrap my heart in peace, from God above that will not cease.
When troubles on the earth do arise, I go to God, who rules the skies.
When I face this life’s uncertainties, I go to God, who controls eternity.
When my heart becomes unsure, I go to my faithful, unchanging Lord.
Facing the encounters in this life, He helps me through pain and strife.
Whatever it is or wherever I trod, I can rely on the strength of my God.
In His strength He sees me through, with His Love so faithful and true.
Even through the darkest of night, I know in the end, I’ll see His Light.
God is the wind beneath my wings; peace in sorrow is what He brings.
And as the storms in this life do blow, The Lord lifts me higher as I go.
Even as life’s plans fail and fall apart, God places a joy into my heart.
And even in the darkest valley low, His peace inside, begins to grow.
Friend, The Lord above, who’s over all, will pick you up when you fall.
He will then lift you up to His breast, and in your trial you will find rest.
God will then put you on higher ground, where His peace will abound.
You’ll see that any circumstance, is allowed by Him, not mere chance.
For God may put us through a fire, but only to purify our heart’s desire,
And all things work together for, the good of those who know The Lord,
All called according to His purpose, beginning a time of eternal service,
And time down here won’t compare, to the time in Glory without a care.
(Copyright ©02/2006)
Happy Friendship Day!
A friend is a person
You bump into one day,
In a strange way
Like a Fay!
Making you gay,
Listening to all that
You got to say!
A friend is one
Amongst a few,
Who cares for you,
Telling you what to do;
At times, cautioning too!
A friend is a soul
With an important role,
Helping you attain your goal,
Making your life whole!
A friend is a rare find
Who enters your mind
In a way pre-destined;
A friend adds
meaning to your life;
Helping you in your strife;
Becoming even
Your husband or wife!
A friend is for ever
Intimate and never
Always clever.
A friend is a bond of love
That shouldn’t sever,
But remain strong forever!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 8-3-2006
poem by John Celes
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Song Of Fellowship
IN ev'ry hour of joy
That love and wine prolong,
The moments we'll employ
To carol forth this song!
We're gathered in His name,
Whose power hath brought us here;
He kindled first our flame,
He bids it burn more clear.
Then gladly glow to-night,
And let our hearts combine!
Up! quaff with fresh delight
This glass of sparkling wine!
Up! hail the joyous hour,
And let your kiss be true;
With each new bond of power
The old becomes the new!
Who in our circle lives,
And is not happy there?
True liberty it gives,
And brother's love so fair.
Thus heart and heart through life
With mutual love are fill'd;
And by no causeless strife
Our union e'er is chill'd.
Our hopes a God has crown'd
With life-discernment free,
And all we view around,
Renews our ecstasy.
Ne'er by caprice oppress'd,
Our bliss is ne'er destroy'd;
More freely throbs our breast,
By fancies ne'er alloy'd.
Where'er our foot we set,
The more life's path extends,
And brighter, brighter yet
Our gaze on high ascends.
We know no grief or pain,
Though all things fall and rise;
Long may we thus remain!
Eternal be our ties!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Content and Rich
I dwell in Grace's court,
Enriched with Virtue's rights;
Faith guides my wit, Love leads my will,
Hope all my mind delights.
In lowly vales I mount
To pleasure's highest pitch;
My silly shroud true honour brings;
My poor estate is rich.
My conscience is my crown,
Contented thoughts my rest;
My heart is happy in itself;
My bliss is in my breast.
Enough, I reckon wealth;
That mean, the surest lot,
That lies too high for base contempt,
Too low for envy's shot.
My wishes are but few
All easy to fulfil;
I make the limits of my power
The bounds unto my will.
I fear no care for gold;
Well-doing is my wealth;
My mind to me an empire is,
While grace affordeth health.
I clip high-climbing thoughts,
The wings of swelling pride;
Their fall is worst that from the heigh
Of greatest honour slide.
Since sails of largest size
The storm doth soonest tear;
I bear so low and small a sail
As freeth me from fear.
I wrestle not with rage,
While fury's flame doth burn;
It is in vain to stop the stream
Until the tide doth turn.
But when the flame is out,
And ebbing wrath doth end,
I turn a late enraged foe
Into a quiet friend.
And, taught with often proof,
A temper'd calm I find
To be most solace to itself,
Best cure for angry mind.
Spare diet is my fare,
My clothes more fit than fine;
I know I feed and clothe a foe,
That pamper'd would repine.
I envy not their hap
Whom favour doth advance;
I take no pleasure in their pain
That have less happy chance.
To rise by others' fall
I deem a losing gain;
All states with others' ruin built,
To ruin run amain.
No change of fortune's calm
Can cast my comforts down;
When fortune smiles, I smile to think
How quickly she will frown.
And when, in froward mood,
She prov'd an angry foe;
Small gain I found to let her come, -
Less loss to let her go.
poem by Robert Southwell
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True Friends!
True friends are like a stars
They shine upon on my sky
I look upon every while
To count them and admire
Oh true friends are so dear
And that's why i always fear
If one of them falls apart
I cry for them day and night
My True friends are all that i have
So how can i bear losing them
And if one of them walks away
My soul chase their foot steps night and day
May can find them to ask them why
True friends are like shining diamonds
That i hide them on my heart
I join them on my hands every while
To count them cause I fear
If one of them slips among off
my fingers then i'll die
Oh true friend are my breath
They give me hope to breath
I hide them in my heart oh how i fear
If one of them falls apart
I look for them day and night
And my heart cries bloody tears
If i can't find them oh how i fear
Because they are so dear
Oh True Friends stay near:
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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A Trying Time
I've been trying real hard, to be a man,
Doing all I can, to make things right,
Here I go again, deep into the night,
Well who knows how this will end,
As long as I stay true to you, my friend,
So where are we going to now?
And how much love will you allow?
Don't want to be alone,
Or is it me you have outgrown?
Maybe I should not try so hard, to be your friend,
One day our hearts will mend,
What do any of us really know?
Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow!
What is it that we seek?
Need the courage to make it through the week!
My life seems to be a mess,
You say that you could care less,
That's okay, time to stand my own ground,
The melody of my mind is the only sound,
You'll hear when they put you in the ground!
If Angels could care at all,
Then I would see you more,
That sound might be you at my door,
What is it gonna take to get you off your throne,
And bring you home?
Can't you see I'm all alone.
15 July 2012
poem by David Andre' Klopper
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Stretch Out And Wait
On the high-rise estate
What's at the back of your mind ?
Oh, a three-day debate
On a high-rise estate
What's at the back of your mind ?
Two icy-cold hands conducting the way
It's the eskimo blood in my veins
Amid concrete and clay
And general decay
Nature must still find a way
So ignore all the codes of the day
Let your juvenile influences sway
This way and that way (this way)
This way and that way (this way)
God, how sex implores you
To let yourself lose yourself
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body, lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say
As we lie, you say
Stretch out and ...
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Oh ... let your puny body lie down, lie down
As we lie, you say :
Will the world end in the night time ?
(i really don't know)
Or will the world end in the day time ?
(i really don't know)
And is there any point ever having children ?
Oh, i don't know
What i do know is we're here and it's now
So ... stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
There is no debate, no debate, no debate
How can you conciously contemplate
When there's no debate, no debate ?
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Stretch out and wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
Wait
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Written Afterwards
So the days of my tramping are over,
And the days of my riding are done—
I’m about as content as a rover
Will ever be under the sun;
I write, after reading your letter—
My pipe with old memories rife—
And I feel in a mood that had better
Not meet the true eyes of the wife.
You must never admit a suggestion
That old things are good to recall;
You must never consider the question:
‘Was I happier then, after all?’
You must banish the old hope and sorrow
That make the sad pleasures of life,
You must live for To-day and To-morrow
If you want to be just to the wife.
I have changed since the first day I kissed her.
Which is due—Heaven bless her!—to her;
I’m respected and trusted—I’m ‘Mister,’
Addressed by the children as ‘Sir.’
And I feel the respect without feigning—
But you’d laugh the great laugh of your life
If you only saw me entertaining
An old lady friend of the wife.
By-the-way, when you’re writing, remember
That you never went drinking with me,
And forget our last night of December,
Lest our sev’ral accounts disagree.
And, for my sake, old man, you had better
Avoid the old language of strife,
For the technical terms of your letter
May be misunderstood by the wife.
Never hint of the girls appertaining
To the past (when you’re writing again),
For they take such a lot of explaining,
And you know how I hate to explain.
There are some things, we know to our sorrow,
That cut to the heart like a knife,
And your past is To-day and To-morrow
If you want to be true to the wife.
I believe that the creed we were chums in
Was grand, but too abstract and bold,
And the knowledge of life only comes in
When you’re married and fathered and old.
And it’s well. You may travel as few men,
You may stick to a mistress for life;
But the world, as it is, born of woman
Must be seen through the eyes of the wife.
No doubt you are dreaming as I did
And going the careless old pace,
While my future grows dull and decided,
And the world narrows down to the Place.
Let it be. If my ‘treason’s’ resented,
You may do worse, old man, in your life;
Let me dream, too, that I am contented—
For the sake of a true little wife.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Making The Peace...by Talile Ali
one thing i can say at least
there's nothing as great as making the peace
being stubborn and unforgiving
leads to death and a life not living
shame on those who chose to do
the other and hold a grudge so cruel
the harm they do to themselves and their world
is a travesty and a universe unfurled
with clarity it is plane to see
that what is real is la life thats free
of stress and strife and unforgivingness
if you are ever to attain a life of true bliss
to hate, to wish to harm some one
is dirty work and aimless fun
yes, fun i said, and it must be
because why else would some one harm another, you see
sadistic and malevolent
sociopath and psychopathic whim
i don't really care for any of them
a worm is a worm is a worm is a whim
so i will not say or wish any harm
if i ever did, place myself on a farm
or off in the woods in a tree somewhere
hell i still might do that, it's better than unfair
poem by Talile Ali
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On the Demise of Your Beloved Spouse…
Today, a suffering soul is free
From pain and strife of every kind;
God heard her prayers finally,
And freed her body, soul and mind!
The world doesn't know of your lady,
But you spent time and cared for her;
Today your world may look empty,
As your heart feels love lost forev'r!
A marriage is in heaven made;
What God had joined had long well stayed;
The love ‘midst spouses cannot fade,
As plans of God's are too well laid!
Now is the time to pray a lot
For your wife's soul to rest in peace;
In life, her war was quite well fought,
To free herself from her disease.
The separation means one thing:
‘Our earthly life will cease some day! '
The good times with her, you must sing,
And keep your grief and loss at bay.
All good or bad things see their end;
The good we do rescues our soul;
To God's decrees, we must all bend,
And in His ways, we play our role!
Though death is just a parting phase,
As we prepare to see God's face,
Let's do our duty to our race,
And find our way out of life's maze!
A much loved one is lost today;
The loss is great, leaving a void;
But with each one, God has His way;
We gotta live well in this world!
We got to live as per His code;
We must obey Him, young or old;
We must do all that God has told;
We must face death though weary, bold:
Like sheep with shepherd, join the fold!
Fondly dedicated to a doctor friend's
beloved wife's demise
Copyright by Dr John Celes 20-04-12
poem by John Celes
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Definition of Pain
Life so precious yet so easily taken away
happiness what everyone wants yet there filled with pain
People causing pain to others for their amusement
Which causes hatred from their victims in turn it creates their murder
What has life come to hatred, anger, pain, death instead of happiness, joy, love, life
how can I live with life
for if i'm happy others will give me pain
if i'm in pain others will fill me with hatred
which will have me taking their so precious lives
So how can I feel happiness once again
when in order to do so I have to create all those things I despise
So doesn't a victim create their own murder in turn creates the death of the murder
if all of this is true isn't life a cycle of happiness to pain then unto death.
poem by Requiem Night
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The Mediator
O Christ, true Son of God most high,
Thy name we praise for ever;
Whoe'er to Thee for help doth cry
Shall find Thee fail him never;
'Tis Thou wilt plead,
Thou intercede
With God, for us who need Thy prayers so sore:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
To Thee the Father giveth now
All power in earth and heaven;
Sin, Satan, Death to Thee must bow,
All fetters Thou hast riven,
Bade fear to cease,
And made our peace,
That now to God we dare our hearts outpour:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
Fulness of grace is in Thy Word;
The Life, the Truth, the Way
To life eternal art Thou, Lord;
To Thee alone we pray,
Who didst appear
A servant here
To bear the sin that crushed the world before:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
poem by Hans Sachs
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The girl you all...
The girl you all once knew so well,
Has left and now dwells.
Dwells in the place of burning fire.
The place where you sent her with desire.
The girl you all once knew as a child,
Has left not for a while.
She's gone and won't come back again to this town.
Are you happy she took her final bow?
The girl you all once made fun of at school,
She was treated so cruel.
How you made her feel pain and fear,
Making her think she's unwanted here.
The girl you all once put in such pain,
Because of you fear and grief is what she gain.
She gained this by your torture in her life,
And yet you wonder why she sleeps with that silver knife,
The girl you all once called the bitch from hell,
Can you hear her ring those darken bells?
Do you understand the pain she was put through,
Around the people she once knew?
The girl you all let her life end,
Did you remember when you were once a friend?
A friend to her when she had none around,
So why did you let her die and leave this small town?
poem by Alice Spakrs
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Repose in Egypt
O happy mother! while the man wayworn
Sleeps by his ass and dreams of daily bread,
Wakeful and heedful for thy infant care,
O happy mother! while thy husband sleeps,
Art privileged, O blessed one, to see
Celestial strangers sharing in thy task,
And visible angels waiting on thy child.
Take, O young soul, O infant heaven-desired,
Take and fear not the cates, although of earth,
Which to thy hands celestial hands extend,
Take and fear not: such vulgar meats of life
Thy spirit lips no more must scorn to pass;
The seeming ill, contaminating joys,
Thy sense divine no more be loth to allow;
The pleasures as the pains of our strange life
Thou art engaged, self-compromised, to share.
Look up, upon thy mother’s face there sits
No sad suspicion of a lurking ill,
No shamed confession of a needful sin;
Mistrust her not, although of earth she too:
Look up! the bright-eyed cherubs overhead
Strew from mid air fresh flowers to crown the just.
Look! thy own father’s servants these, and thine,
Who at his bidding and at thine are here.
In thine own word was it not said long since
Butter and honey shall he eat, and learn
The evil to refuse and choose the good:
Fear not, O babe divine, fear not, accept;
O happy mother, privileged to see,
While the man sleeps, the sacred mystery.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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