Extempore Lines
A MORNING crowns the Western hill,
A day begins to reign,
A sun awakes o’er distant seas—
Shall never sleep again.
The world is growing old,
And men are waxing wise;
A mist has cleared—a something falls
Like scales from off their eyes.
Too long the “Dark of Ignorance”
Has brooded on their way;
Too long Oppression ’s stood before,
Excluding light of day.
But now they’ve found the track
And now they’ve seen the dawn,
A “beacon lamp” is pointing on,
Where stronger glows the morn.
Since Adam lived, the mighty ones
Have ever ruled the weak;
Since Noah’s flood, the fettered slave
Has seldom dared to speak.
’Tis time a voice was heard,
’Tis time a voice was spoken
So in the chain of tyranny
A link or two be broken.
A tiny rill will swell a stream,
A spark will cause a flame,
And one man’s burning eloquence
Has help’d to do the same.
And he will persevere,
And soon that blaze must spread,
Till to the corners of the earth
Reflecting beams are shed.
The “few” will try to beat it down,
But can they stop the flood—
Bind up the pinions of the light,
Or check the will of God?
And is it not His will
That deeply injured Right
Should overthrow the iron rule
And reign instead of Might?
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Voice Of The Heart
(j.t.stanley/john bettis/b.roberts)
Sometimes when your world seems so big and real
You may run to the shelter of walls
Sometimes you may wish
You could be like your shadow
It fits wherever it falls
Whenever the nights too deep to find
And the morning is too far away
Wherever you are
Theres always a star to guide the way
There to guide the way
If you listen long enough
If you dream it strong enough
A door inside will open
And a light will flood the dark
Like a song too long unsung
Or a soul forever young
We all will find an answer
In the voice of the heart
Tonight if a dream should come to your sleep
With a picture you dont wanna see
Go where it leads, from secret to secret
You are what you want to be
Whenever the sun refuses to shine
And you cant chase the storm clouds away
Wherever you are theres always a star to guide the way
There to guide the way
If you listen long enough
If you dream it strong enough
A door inside will open
And a light will flood the dark
Like a song too long unsung
Or a soul forever young
We all will find an answer
In the voice of the heart
Living in a private world
There are times when its hard to break through
So dont give up
Each time you hurt youve got nothing to lose
Theres a voice inside of you
If you listen long enough
If you dream it strong enough
A door inside will open
And a light will flood the dark
Like a song too long unsung
Or a soul forever young
We all will find an answer
In the voice of the heart
If you listen long enough
(listen)
If you dream it strong enough
(dream it)
A door inside will open
And a light will flood the dark
Like a song too long unsung
Or a soul forever young
We will find the answer
In the voice of the heart
If you listen long enough
(long enough)
If you dream it strong enough
(strong enough)
A door inside will open
And a light will flood the dark
Like a song too long unsung
Or a soul forever young
We will find an answer
In the voice of the heart
If you listen long enough
If you dream it strong enough
In the voice
In the voice of the heart
We will find the answer
Like a song too long unsung
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If It Be Your Will
If it be your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before
I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be your will
If it be your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to you
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing
From this broken hill
All your praises they shall ring
If it be your will
To let me sing
If it be your will
If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice
Let your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell
If it be your will
To make us well
And draw us near
And bind us tight
All your children here
In their rags of light
In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be your will
If it be your will.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lord Reigns
The Lord Reigns from on High, upon His throne above the sky,
And from His throne in majesty, He rules the world that we see.
He ruled the world in ages past, with a rule that will forever last.
For Christ will reign for Eternity, as all nations on earth will see.
His uplifted hand still is raised, though by all, He is not praised.
When His Wrath begins to flow, every nation on earth will know,
That Christ is the sustainer of, everything in the heavens above,
And of all upon the earth below, everything we’ve come to know.
One thing you can not dismiss, that He reigns in Righteousness,
Indeed, Holiness is found in Him, that reigns above all earthly sin.
When He reigns upon the earth, all sin and iniquity will be purged.
At that time His righteous decree, will cover earth from sea to sea.
Today Christ reigns in the heart, of every believer who’s set apart,
Set apart by The Lord above, cleansed from sin and filled with love.
Today we reign in Christ’s Spirit, sharing Truth with all who hear it,
Knowing when Christ does come, we will reign with God’s own Son.
You can also reign with Christ, and receive from Him Eternal Life,
If you receive Him in your heart, you, in His Reign, will have a part.
If you choose to dismiss The Lord, you, by Jesus, won’t be ignored,
And from His Reign of Righteousness, you will surely be dismissed.
(Copyright ©09/2005)
The Watcher on the Tower
I
The Voice of a Man
WHAT of the Night, O Watcher?
The Voice of a Woman
Yea, what of it?
The Watcher
A star has risen; and a wind blows strong.
Voice of the Man
The Night is dark.
The Watcher
But God is there above it.
Voice of the Woman
The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.
II
Voice of the Man
What of the Night, O Watcher?
Voice of the Woman
Night of sorrow!
The Watcher
Out of the East there comes a sound, like song.
Voice of the Man
The Night is dark.
The Watcher
Have courage! There’s To-morrow!
Voice of the Woman
The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.
III
Voice of the Man
What of the Night, O Watcher?
Voice of the Woman
Is it other?
The Watcher
I see a gleam; a thorn of light; a thong.
Voice of the Man
The Night is dark.
The Watcher
The Morning comes, my Brother.
Voice of the Woman
The Night is dark; the Night is dark and long.
IV
Voice of the Man
What now, what now, O Watcher?
The Watcher
Red as slaughter
The Darkness dies. The Light comes swift and strong.
Voice of the Man
The Night was long.—What sayest thou, my Daughter?
Voice of the Woman
The Night was dark; the Night was dark and long.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bondman
Feebly the bondman toiled,
Sadly he wept-
Then to his wretched cot
Mournfully crept;
How doth his free-born soul
Pine 'neath his chain!
Slavery! Slavery!
Dark is thy reign.
Long ere the break of day,
Roused from repose,
Wearily toiling
Till after its close-
Praying for freedom,
He spends his last breath:
Liberty! Liberty!
Give me or death.
When, when, O Lord! will right
Triumph o'er wrong?
Tyrants oppress the weak,
O Lord! how long?
Hark! hark! a peal resounds
From shore to shore-
Tyranny! Tyranny!
Thy reign is o'er.
E'en now the morning
Gleams from the East-
Despots are feeling
Their triumph is past-
Strong hearts are answering
To freedom's loud call-
Liberty! Liberty!
Full and for all.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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November
As I walk the misty hill
All is languid, fogged, and still;
Not a note of any bird
Nor any motion's hint is heard,
Save from soaking thickets round
Trickle or water's rushing sound,
And from ghostly trees the drip
Of runnel dews or whispering slip
Of leaves, which in a body launch
Listlessly from the stagnant branch
To strew the marl, already strown,
With litter sodden as its own,
A rheum, like blight, hangs on the briars,
And from the clammy ground suspires
A sweet frail sick autumnal scent
Of stale frost furring weeds long spent;
And wafted on, like one who sleeps,
A feeble vapour hangs or creeps,
Exhaling on the fungus mould
A breath of age, fatigue, and cold.
Oozed from the bracken's desolate track,
By dark rains havocked and drenched black.
A fog about the coppice drifts,
Or slowly thickens up and lifts
Into the moist, despondent air.
Mist, grief, and stillness everywhere....
And in me, too, there is no sound
Save welling as of tears profound,
Where in me cloud, grief, stillness reign,
And an intolerable pain
Begins.
Rolled on as in a flood there come
Memories of childhood, boyhood, home,
And that which, sudden, pangs me most,
Thought of the first-belov'd, long lost,
Too easy lost! My cold lips frame
Tremulously the familiar name,
Unheard of her upon my breath:
'Elizabeth. Elizabeth.'
No voice answers on the hill,
All is shrouded, sad, and still ...
Stillness, fogged brakes, and fog on high.
Only in me the waters cry
Who mourn the hours now slipped for ever,
Hours of boding, joy, and fever,
When we loved, by chance beguiled,
I a boy and you a child —
Child! but with an angel's air,
Astonished, eager, unaware,
Or elfin's, wandering with a grace
Foreign to any fireside race,
And with a gaiety unknown
In the light feet and hair backblown,
And with a sadness yet more strange,
In meagre cheeks which knew to change
Or faint or fired more swift than sight,
And forlorn hands and lips pressed white,
And fragile voice, and head downcast,
Hiding tears, lifted at the last
To speed with one pale smile the wise
Glance of the grey immortal eyes.
How strange it was that we should dare
Compound a miracle so rare
As, 'twixt this pace and Time's next pace,
Each to discern th' elected's face!
Yet stranger that the high sweet fire,
In hearts nigh foreign to desire,
Could burn, sigh, weep, and burn again
As oh, it never has since then!
Most strange of all that we so young
Dared learn but would not speak love's tongue,
Love pledged but in the reveries
Of our sad and dreaming eyes....
Now upon such journey bound me,
Grief, disquiet, and stillness round me,
As bids me where I cannot tell,
Turn I and sigh, unseen, farewell.
Breathe the name as soft as mist,
Lips, which nor kissed her nor were kissed!
And again — a sigh, a death —
'Elizabeth. Elizabeth.'
No voice answers; but the mist
Glows for a moment amethyst
Ere the hid sun dissolves away,
And dimness, growing dimmer grey,
Hides all ... till nothing can I see
But the blind walls enclosing me,
And no sound and no motion hear
But the vague water throbbing near,
Sole voice upon the darkening hill
Where all is blank and dead and still.
poem by Robert Nichols
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chain Of Fools (feat. Pointer Sisters)
Clint Black & The Pointer Sisters
Chain chain chains (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chains (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain
Chain of fools
For four long years
I thought you were my man
But I found out
I'm just a link in your chain.
You got me where you want me
I ain't nothin but your fool
You treated me mean
Oh, you treated me cruel.
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain of fools
Every chain
Has got a weak link
I might be weak child
Oh, but I'll give you strength.
OOh. OOh.
You told me to leave you alone
My mother said, come on home
My doctor said, take it easy
But your lovin' is much too strong
I'm added to your.
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain
Chain of fools.
--- Instrumental ---
One of these mornings
That chain is gonna break
But up until then
I'm goin'a take all I can take, oh yeah.
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain
Chain of fools.
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain (Chain chain chains)
Chain chain chain
Chain of fools, oh yeah...
--- Instrumental with oops till fade ---
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Flood's Party
Old Eben Flood, climbing alone one night
Over the hill between the town below
And the forsaken upland hermitage
That held as much as he should ever know
On earth again of home, paused warily.
The road was his with not a native near;
And Eben, having leisure, said aloud,
For no man else in Tilbury Town to hear:
"Well, Mr. Flood, we have the harvest moon
Again, and we may not have many more;
The bird is on the wing, the poet says,
And you and I have said it here before.
Drink to the bird." He raised up to the light
The jug that he had gone so far to fill,
And answered huskily: "Well, Mr. Flood,
Since you propose it, I believe I will."
Alone, as if enduring to the end
A valiant armor of scarred hopes outworn.
He stood there in the middle of the road
Like Roland's ghost winding a silent horn.
Below him, in the town among the trees,
Where friends of other days had honored him,
A phantom salutation of the dead
Rang thinly till old Eben's eyes were dim.
Then, as a mother lays her sleeping child
Down tenderly, fearing it may awake,
He sat the jug down slowly at his feet
With trembling care, knowing that most things break;
And only when assured that on firm earth
It stood, as the uncertain lives of men
Assuredly did not, he paced away,
And with his hand extended paused again:
"Well, Mr. Flood, we have not met like this
In a long time; and many a change has come
To both of us, I fear, since last it was
We had a drop together. Welcome home!"
Convivially returning with himself,
Again he raised the jug up to the light;
And with an acquiescent quaver said:
"Well, Mr. Flood, if you insist, I might.
"Only a very little, Mr. Flood--
For auld lang syne. No more, sir; that will do."
So, for the time, apparently it did
And Eben apparently thouht so too;
For soon among the silver loneliness
Of night he lifted up his voice and sang,
Secure, with only two moons listening,
Until the whole harmonious landscape rang--
"For auld lang syne." The weary throat gave out,
The last word wavered, and the song was done.
He raised again the jug regretfully
And shook his head, and was again alone.
There was not much that was ahead of him,
And there was nothing in the town below--
Where strangers would have shut the many doors
That many friends had opened long ago.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prayer On The Valley Road
I love to walk by the willows along the valley road,
Just before sparkling stars fade and night turns to dawn.
When nocturnal creatures return to their homes,
Lazy mist lifts from the stream and birds greet the morn.
This is where I spend time with my Lord,
Moreover, Addoni is there for me.
I have no wish to be elsewhere,
We speak of loves, losses and glee.
Cities that explode and cities that burn.
We speak of men who are at war.
We speak of loving wives and children,
Moreover, governments whom we implore.
Down a track, that sees a dying moon,
We speak of worldly concerns.
Beautiful creations even the amazing,
He waits for my prayers for our soldiers safe return.
El Shaddi hears me say, 'My child is ill',
And answers, I walk before you upon this track.
As I do, My Spirit is holding your dear child,
Moreover, in my time you will see her back.
So my beloved one I hear His voice,
I'm about to bring light to your day.
You have asked much of me this morn,
I love you; but my answer maybe, 'Nay'.
So He and I will track this day together as I plow and sow,
Love both neighbors and those under my roof.
Being a testimony that honors my Lord,
Being for Him a living proof.
Reign Of Blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows cascading down upon your shoulders
Far too many men dressed up as soldiers
The lamb is brought to the ground
Under the weight of the crown
A crown of thorns and dark deeds
The swastika and the hammer and symbol
Are sickles that reap only weeds
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows precedes a storm of revolution
People have no place in their solution
So torture raises its head
Decked out in blue, white, and red
And iron maidens will slam
And by the half light of burning republics
Joe stalin looks just like uncle sam
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows has washed away the corpse of abel,
Cain is now the king in every babel
I just dont care who you are
When death draws up in his car
And talks in terrorist tones
Remember violence is only a vote for the
Black queen to take back the throne
Reign of blows
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reign Of Blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows cascading down upon your shoulders
Far too many men dressed up as soldiers
The lamb is brought to the ground
Under the weight of the crown
A crown of thorns and dark deeds
The swastika and the hammer and symbol
Are sickles that reap only weeds
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows precedes a storm of revolution
People have no place in their solution
So torture raises its head
Decked out in blue, white, and red
And iron maidens will slam
And by the half light of burning republics
Joe stalin looks just like uncle sam
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows has washed away the corpse of abel,
Cain is now the king in every babel
I just dont care who you are
When death draws up in his car
And talks in terrorist tones
Remember violence is only a vote for the
Black queen to take back the throne
Reign of blows
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Thomas Butts
TO my friend Butts I write
My first vision of light,
On the yellow sands sitting.
The sun was emitting
His glorious beams
From Heaven’s high streams.
Over sea, over land,
My eyes did expand
Into regions of air,
Away from all care;
Into regions of fire,
Remote from desire;
The light of the morning
Heaven’s mountains adorning:
In particles bright,
The jewels of light
Distinct shone and clear.
Amaz’d and in fear
I each particle gazèd,
Astonish’d, amazèd;
For each was a Man
Human-form’d. Swift I ran,
For they beckon’d to me,
Remote by the sea,
Saying: ‘Each grain of sand,
Every stone on the land,
Each rock and each hill,
Each fountain and rill,
Each herb and each tree,
Mountain, hill, earth, and sea,
Cloud, meteor, and star,
Are men seen afar.’
I stood in the streams
Of Heaven’s bright beams,
And saw Felpham sweet
Beneath my bright feet,
In soft Female charms;
And in her fair arms
My Shadow I knew,
And my wife’s Shadow too,
And my sister, and friend.
We like infants descend
In our Shadows on earth,
Like a weak mortal birth.
My eyes, more and more,
Like a sea without shore,
Continue expanding,
The Heavens commanding;
Till the jewels of light,
Heavenly men beaming bright,
Appear’d as One Man,
Who complacent began
My limbs to enfold
In His beams of bright gold;
Like dross purg’d away
All my mire and my clay.
Soft consum’d in delight,
In His bosom sun-bright
I remain’d. Soft He smil’d,
And I heard His voice mild,
Saying: ‘This is My fold,
O thou ram horn’d with gold,
Who awakest from sleep
On the sides of the deep.
On the mountains around
The roarings resound
Of the lion and wolf,
The loud sea, and deep gulf.
These are guards of My fold,
O thou ram horn’d with gold!’
And the voice faded mild;
I remain’d as a child;
All I ever had known
Before me bright shone:
I saw you and your wife
By the fountains of life.
Such the vision to me
Appear’d on the sea.
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Morning Dream, A Ballad. To The Tune Of 'Tweed Side.
'Twas in the glad season of spring,
Asleep at the dawn of the day,
I dream’d what I cannot but sing,
So pleasant it seem'd as I lay.
I dream’d that, on ocean afloat,
Far hence to the westward I sail'd,
While the billows high lifted the boat,
And the fresh-blowing breeze never fail'd.
In the steerage a woman I saw,
Such at least was the form that she wore,
Whose beauty impress'd me with awe,
Ne'er taught me by woman before.
She sat, and a shield at her side
Shed light, like a sun on the waves,
And smiling divinely, she cried--
'I go to make freemen of slaves.'
Then, raising her voice to a strain
The sweetest that ear ever heard,
She sung of the slave's broken chain,
Wherever her glory appear'd.
Some clouds, which had over us hung,
Fled, chased by her melody clear,
And methought while she liberty sung,
'Twas liberty only to hear.
Thus swiftly dividing the flood,
To a slave-cultured island we came,
Where a demon, her enemy, stood--
Oppression his terrible name.
In his hand, as the sign of his sway,
A scourge hung with lashes he bore,
And stood looking out for his prey
From Africa’s sorrowful shore.
But soon as, approaching the land,
That goddess-like woman he view'd,
The scourge he let fall from his hand,
With blood of his subjects imbrued.
I saw him both sicken and die,
And, the moment the monster expir'd,
Heard shouts, that ascended the sky,
From thousands with rapture inspir'd.
Awaking, how could I but muse
At what such a dream should betide?
But soon my ear caught the glad news,
Which served my weak thought for a guide;
That Britannia, renown'd o'er the waves
For the hatred she ever has shown
To the black-sceptred rulers of slaves,
Resolves to have none of her own.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To the sun
Thou glorious lamp of Space! Thou that dost flood
The void of heaven with brightness! in thy glow
Unnumbered worlds, age after age, have trod
In their appointed paths, and yet the flow
Of brightness hath not ebbed. -- Before thy brow
The stars still veil themselves; thy burning glance
Is all unquenched, undimmed, unchanged e'en now,
As when the finger of Omnipotence
Pointed to thee thy throne amid the vast expanse.
Yes, all unchanged. -- As on that morn when rang
The shout of joy as forth thy rays were spread,
While all the morning stars together sang,
So thou art now. The morning stars have fled,
The towering hill with age has bowed its head,
The sea has changed its home with the dry land,
The earth has gathered in her countless dead,
Again and yet again -- but thou dost stand,
Exhaustless and unmoved, upheld by God's own hand.
Thy beams rest not alone where monarchs dwell,
They linger round the cottage of the poor,
And pierce the grating of the captive's cell;
And when thou lookest on the lowliest flower
That lifts its head to thee for one short hour,
Thy glances just as mildly, gently burn
As when thou gazest on the loftiest tower,
Or on the countless worlds that round thee turn.
Oh! what a lesson here might human frailty learn.
Thou look'st upon the earth, and in thy rays
She brings her increase forth. Thine early light
Unfolds the bud, and thy intenser gaze
The blushing summer flower. Thou takest thy flight
And o'er the earth then walks the starry night;
Thou guidest the waters of the unquiet main,
Whose billows foam and tremble in their might --
For o'er the winds of heaven thou hold'st thy reign,
From the soft, flower-kissed breeze to the wild hurricane.
When I behold thy bright, alchemic glance
A flood of gold-light o'er the landscape throw,
And every cloud that decks the blue expanse,
Beneath thy gaze with deeping blushes glow;
Or when I see thee tint the heavenly bow,
Or in thy gaze the icebound waters melt,
As spring returns before thy burning brow,
I wonder not that Persia's children knelt,
And deemed thou was the Heaven wherein the Eternal dwelt.
Thou isle of brightness 'mid an azure sea!
As oft I gaze on thee at closing day,
I feel my spirit fluttering to be free, --
To cast its bonds of ignorance away,
And learn thy mysteries; and then I say,
Peace, restless spirit! -- yet a little time
And your frail prison will have changed to clay,
And thou shalt stand before the throne of Him
To whose veiled brow of light this glorious lamp is dim!
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Speak Now For Peace
Lady of Light, and our best woman, and queen,
Stand now for peace, (though anger breaks your heart),
Though naught but smoke and flame and drowning is seen.
Lady of Light, speak, though you speak alone,
Though your voice may seem as a dove’s in this howling flood,
It is heard to-night by every senate and throne.
Though the widening battle of millions and millions of men
Threatens to-night to sweep the whole of the earth,
Back of the smoke is the promise of kindness again.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shadows Fall
Shadows had been casted way back when, but the light will be there till the end
Misery is not in sight, for the future brings a stronger light
The light of thee and the light of thou, skeptics question why...what....how
It's the fuel that drives this flame, nothing but love no one to blame
Friendship at hand and at the side, only the bad man will run and hide
Times our tough and rough this is true, no more pain in the rain that's all but blue
This light will blind you if unaware, casting that shadow how you dare
Shadows weaken as the light is glowing, one more light has joined see 'em growing
Those in the dark and in self tormoil, may only find their peace in earth's soil
Sad to say that not all is well, shadows casted by the one's that live in hell
Shadows weaken day by day, the light grows stonger truth in what I say
The chains that bind will be unbound, back in your hell play with the hound
Blame this soul or that one too, shadows will fall how so true
It started a long time ago, nothing can be done except see it grow
poem by Dave Shemeley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fairy Light
A light appeared on the darkest hill,
The girl fell once, and was left behind,
I caught her arm and we crossed the rill:
‘I can’t go on - I think I’m blind.’
‘We’ve all been blind to the things that count
But there’s the light - if you’ll follow me
We may be able to sight the truth,
And catch a glimpse of eternity.’
The light had pranced by the farmer's gate,
Followed the stony lane along,
Leapt a thicket of tangled thorns,
Flashed and fluttered, and bounded on.
‘It’s only a lonely firefly,
A torch, or maybe a will-o-wisp, ’
She clutched her leg and she gave a cry,
I left her there in the morning mist.
‘I must go on! ’ I could hear the words
The wind had snatched at my shallow breath,
‘To stay is worse than to venture on,
For standing still is a living death.’
I took the hill like a man possessed
And clawed a way through the cloying weed,
Prayed and whispered and fought for breath
To follow the light of my driving need.
The light had stopped at the stony crest
To turn its wavering glow on me,
I caught it fast in my fevered hand
And felt the light spread instantly.
The hill erupted in seas and stars,
The heavens wheeled and whirled above,
I ceased to be; but whispered ‘Why? ’
A word, in answer, whispered – ‘Love! ’
But love like this was not content,
Rather a pit of burning pain,
Only a well of innocence
Could blend unhurt in the light’s refrain.
Reflecting the inner glow of love
The great creation wheeled in grace
While I stood dark and shadow-formed,
Apart - as one of the human race!
They found me there at the break of day;
The girl had only a line to tell:
‘He must have suffered a stroke’, she said,
‘His face was pale, and then he fell.’
She didn’t mention the fairy light
We’d chased forever across the land;
The girl was lucky - I lost my sight,
And walk the world with a withered hand!
3 February 1979
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Swing Of Things
(pal waaktaar)
They say the worlds an eventful place
You give me news
I dont want to know
You say that I should care
That I should speak my mind
Oh, but how can I speak of the world
Pushing by
With a lump in my throat
And tears in my eyes
Have we come to the point of no turning back
Or is it still time to get into
The swing of things
Let us walk through this windless city
Ill go on til the winter gets me
Sleep... you wrote sleep, my dear
In a letter somewhere
Oh, but how can I sleep with your voice in my head
And and ocean between us
And room in my bed
Have I come to the point where Im loosing the grip
Or is it still time to get into
The swing of things
When she glows in the dark
And Im weak by the sight
Of this breathtaking beauty
In which I can hide
There is a worldful out there
Of people I fear
But given time Ill get into
The swing of things
Yes, when se glows in the dark and Im struck by the sight
I know that Ill need this for the rest of my life
What have I done
What lies I have told
Ive played games with the ones that rescued my soul
Have I come to the point where Im losing the grip
Or is it still time to get into
The swing of things
song performed by by A-Ha
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Year of the Rose
From the depths of the green garden-closes
Where the summer in darkness dozes
Till autumn pluck from his hand
An hour-glass that holds not a sand;
From the maze that a flower-belt encloses
To the stones and sea-grass on the strand
How red was the reign of the roses
Over the rose-crowned land!
The year of the rose is brief;
From the first blade blown to the sheaf,
From the thin green leaf to the gold,
It has time to be sweet and grow old,
To triumph and leave not a leaf
For witness in winter's sight
How lovers once in the light
Would mix their breath with its breath,
And its spirit was quenched not of night,
As love is subdued not of death.
In the red-rose land not a mile
Of the meadows from stile to stile,
Of the valleys from stream to stream,
But the air was a long sweet dream
And the earth was a sweet wide smile
Red-mouthed of a goddess, returned
From the sea which had borne her and burned,
That with one swift smile of her mouth
Looked full on the north as it yearned,
And the north was more than the south.
For the north, when winter was long,
In his heart had made him a song,
And clothed it with wings of desire,
And shod it with shoon as of fire,
To carry the tale of his wrong
To the south-west wind by the sea,
That none might bear it but he
To the ear of the goddess unknown
Who waits till her time shall be
To take the world for a throne.
In the earth beneath, and above
In the heaven where her name is love,
She warms with light from her eyes
The seasons of life as they rise,
And her eyes are as eyes of a dove,
But the wings that lift her and bear
As an eagle's, and all her hair
As fire by the wind's breath curled,
And her passage is song through the air,
And her presence is spring through the world.
So turned she northward and came,
And the white-thorn land was aflame
With the fires that were shed from her feet,
That the north, by her love made sweet,
Should be called by a rose-red name;
And a murmur was heard as of doves,
And a music beginning of loves
In the light that the roses made,
Such light as the music loves,
The music of man with maid.
But the days drop one upon one,
And a chill soft wind is begun
In the heart of the rose-red maze
That weeps for the roseleaf days
And the reign of the rose undone
That ruled so long in the light,
And by spirit, and not by sight,
Through the darkness thrilled with its breath,
Still ruled in the viewless night,
As love might rule over death.
The time of lovers is brief;
From the fair first joy to the grief
That tells when love is grown old,
From the warm wild kiss to the cold,
From the red to the white-rose leaf,
They have but a season to seem
As rose-leaves lost on a stream
That part not and pass not apart
As a spirit from dream to dream,
As a sorrow from heart to heart.
From the bloom and the gloom that encloses
The death-bed of Love where he dozes
Till a relic be left not of sand
To the hour-glass that breaks in his hand;
From the change in the grey garden-closes
To the last stray grass of the strand,
A rain and ruin of roses
Over the red-rose land.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ministry
Lift up your voice,
sing out in song.
Let not your message pass and be gone
without being heard.
You speak of truth,
you speak of right
you speak of ministry of light.
Pray, please tell me,
when will it be
this light's coming on?
I listened close,
you spoke so wise,
you were sincere
it was in your eyes.
Somehow I feel
you can show the way,
the light's grown strong... strong!
It ne'er grows dim,
it's always bright,
it's burning high
this shining light.
All praise to thee
thy guiding hands
Ministry of light.
poem by Angela Michel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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