The Revival
1 Unfold! unfold! Take in His light,
2 Who makes thy cares more short than night.
3 The joys which with His day-star rise,
4 He deals to all but drowsy eyes;
5 And (what the men of this world miss)
6 Some drops and dews of future bliss.
7 Hark! how his winds have chang'd their note,
8 And with warm whispers call thee out.
9 The frosts are past, the storms are gone,
10 And backward life at last comes on.
11 The lofty groves in express joys
12 Reply unto the turtle's voice;
13 And here in dust and dirt, O here
14 The lilies of His love appear!
poem by Henry Vaughan
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The Morning-Watch
1 O joys! infinite sweetness! with what flow'rs
2 And shoots of glory my soul breaks and buds!
3 All the long hours
4 Of night, and rest,
5 Through the still shrouds
6 Of sleep, and clouds,
7 This dew fell on my breast;
8 Oh, how it bloods
9 And spirits all my earth! Hark! In what rings
10 And hymning circulations the quick world
11 Awakes and sings;
12 The rising winds
13 And falling springs,
14 Birds, beasts, all things
15 Adore him in their kinds.
16 Thus all is hurl'd
17 In sacred hymns and order, the great chime
18 And symphony of nature. Prayer is
19 The world in tune,
20 A spirit voice,
21 And vocal joys
22 Whose echo is heav'n's bliss.
23 O let me climb
24 When I lie down! The pious soul by night
25 Is like a clouded star whose beams, though said
26 To shed their light
27 Under some cloud,
28 Yet are above,
29 And shine and move
30 Beyond that misty shroud.
31 So in my bed,
32 That curtain'd grave, though sleep, like ashes, hide
33 My lamp and life, both shall in thee abide.
poem by Henry Vaughan
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Joys
There are some joys within this world,
which words can never express.
The miracle of witnessing the birth
of another human being.
The forever love of two in whom
no raging storms can ever part.
The holding in your hands
the carefully crafted book of your own.
These are just some of the joys
that there are no words to fully express.
They are feeling on you can feel
and joys only you know.
poem by David Harris
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Valentine’s Day is …
Valentine’s Day is for all;
Celebrate in café or mall;
Make a world of difference
With hug, kiss, kind reference!
Valentine’s Day is Lover’s;
Make the love with one you love;
Express love-filled words by cards;
Write your feelings like great bards!
Valentine’s Day is for spouse;
Make the day dreamy at house;
Cook the savory dishes,
And be the Fay, granting wishes.
Valentine is one day, so,
Mouth magic words, ‘I love you’!
Bring the joy to ones you love;
Let only bliss show’r you now.
Valentine’s Day is for joy,
For a maiden, lass or boy;
Forget cruel life on earth;
Let bliss fill hearts, give rebirth!
Valentine’s for young and old;
Let it render joys untold;
On this day, let love unfold
With memories of past years, gold!
‘Happy Valentine’s Day to all! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 14-2-2010
poem by John Celes
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Orpheus I am, Come from the Deeps Below
Orpheus I am, come from the deeps below,
To thee, fond man, the plagues of love to show.
To the fair fields where loves eternal dwell
There's none that come, but first they pass through hell:
Hark, and beware! unless thou hast loved, ever
Beloved again, thou shalt see those joys never.
Hark how they groan that died despairing!
Oh, take heed, then!
Hark how they howl for over-daring!
All these were men.
They that be fools, and die for fame,
They lose their name;
And they that bleed,
Hark how they speed!
Now in cold frosts, now scorching fires
They sit, and curse their lost desires;
Nor shall these souls be free from pains and fears,
Till women waft them over in their tears.
poem by John Fletcher
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Crossing The Tropics
From 'The Saya-y-Manto.'
While now the Pole Star sinks from sight
The Southern Cross it climbs the sky;
But losing thee, my love, my light,
O bride but for one bridal night,
The loss no rising joys supply.
Love, love, the Trade Winds urge abaft,
And thee, from thee, they steadfast waft.
By day the blue and silver sea
And chime of waters blandly fanned--
Nor these, nor Gama's stars to me
May yield delight since still for thee
I long as Gama longed for land.
I yearn, I yearn, reverting turn,
My heart it streams in wake astern
When, cut by slanting sleet, we swoop
Where raves the world's inverted year,
If roses all your porch shall loop,
Not less your heart for me will droop
Doubling the world's last outpost drear.
O love, O love, these oceans vast:
Love, love, it is as death were past!
poem by Herman Melville
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They Desire A Better Country
I
I would not if I could undo my past,
Tho' for its sake my future is a blank;
My past, for which I have myself to thank,
For all its faults and follies first and last.
I would not cast anew the lot once cast,
Or launch a second ship for one that sank,
Or drug with sweets the bitterness I drank,
Or break by feasting my perpetual fast.
I would not if I could: for much more dear
Is one remembrance than a hundred joys,
More than a thousand hopes in jubilee;
Dearer the music of one tearful voice
That unforgotten calls and calls to me,
'Follow me here, rise up, and follow here.'
II
What seekest thou far in the unknown land?
In hope I follow joy gone on before,
In hope and fear persistent more and more,
As the dry desert lengthens out its sand.
Whilst day and night I carry in my hand
The golden key to ope the golden door
Of golden home; yet mine eye weepeth sore
For the long journey that must make no stand.
And who is this that veiled doth walk with thee?
Lo, this is Love that walketh at my right;
One exile holds us both, and we are bound
To selfsame home-joys in the land of light.
Weeping thou walkest with him; weepeth he?—
Some sobbing weep, some weep and make no sound.
III
A dimness of a glory glimmers here
Thro' veils and distance from the space remote,
A faintest far vibration of a note
Reaches to us and seems to bring us near,
Causing our face to glow with braver cheer,
Making the serried mist to stand afloat,
Subduing langour with an antidote,
And strengthening love almost to cast out fear,
Till for one moment golden city walls
Rise looming on us, golden walls of home,
Light of our eyes until the darkness falls;
Then thro' the outer darkness burdensome
I hear again the tender voice that calls,
'Follow me hither, follow, rise, and come.'
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Call The Man
Close the door
Shut the world away
All the fight's gone from this wounded heart
Across the floor
Dreams and shadows play
Like wind blown refugees
Call the man
Who deals in love beyond repair
He can heal the world
Of hearts in need of care
Shine a light ahead
When the next step is unclear
Call the man
He's needed here
I close my eyes
I remember when
Your sweet love filled this empty room
The tears I cry
Won't bring it back again
Unless the lonely star should fall
Call the man
Who deals in love beyond repair
He can heal the world
Of hearts in need of care
Shine a light ahead
When the next step is unclear
Call the man
He's needed here
Needed in the chaos and confusion
From the plains to city hall
Needed where the proud who walk the wire are set to fall
Call the man
Who deals in once upon a time
Maybe he
Can mend this broken heart of mine
Shine a light ahead
Now the future isn't clear
Call the man
He's needed here
Call the man
He's needed here
He's needed here
He's needed here
Call the man
He's needed here
Right here right now
song performed by by Celine Dion from Falling Into You
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On This, the Last Night of Our World
On this, the Last night of our world
We, together, naked, lay
Upstairs in your parents house
in the middle of the day.
Our ship has sailed- and without us
Future joys now chimeras
and your oft mischievous eyes
are brimful with incipient tears.
Our intercourse, just whispers, there
Your hand rests casually on my thigh
Although you are warm to my touch
I spurn the urge to spend and die.
Another love has staked its claim
A shadow cast upon our sun
This parting will forever last
Our Stage Romance has had its run.
Later when I'm home alone
I pour myself another drink
And mourn my loss, the perfect girl
on this, the last night of our world.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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A Mournful One Am I
A mournful one am I, above whose head
A day of perfect bliss hath never past;
Whatever joys my soul have ravished,
Soon was the radiance of those joys o'ercast.
And none can show me that substantial pleasure
Which will not pass away like bloom from flowers;
Therefore, no more my heart such joys shall treasure,
Nor pine for fading sweets and fleeting hours.
poem by Walther von der Vogelweide
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To My Husband on Our Wedding-Day
I leave for thee, beloved one,
The home and friends of youth,
Trusting my hopes, my happiness,
Unto thy love and truth;
I leave for thee my girlhood's joys,
Its sunny, careless mirth,
To bear henceforth my share amid
The many cares of earth.
And yet, no wild regret I give
To all that now I leave,
The golden dreams, the flow'ry wreaths
That I no more may weave;
The future that before me lies
A dark and unknown sea --
Whate'er may be its storms or shoals,
I brave them all with thee!
I will not tell thee now of love
Whose life, ere this, thou'st guessed,
And which, like sacred secret, long
Was treasured in my breast;
Enough that if thy lot be calm,
Or storms should o'er it sweep,
Thou'lt learn that it is woman's love,
Unchanging, pure and deep.
If this life's sunshine gild thy lot,
Bestowing wealth and pride,
Its light enjoying, I shall stand,
Rejoicing, at thy side;
But, oh! if thou should'st prove the griefs
That blight thy fellow-men,
'Twill be my highest, dearest right,
To be, love, with thee then.
And thou, wilt thou not promise me
Thy heart will never change,
That tones and looks, so loving now,
Will ne'er grow stern and strange?
That thou'lt be kind, whatever faults
Or failings may be mine,
And bear with them in patient love,
As I will bear with thine?
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Burning Bridges
Hell above
Your star is below
There's no comprehension
There's no voice of reason here
Fairy tales dividing
Broken wings unfold
Before you
Take a look at what you've become
[chorus]
Hell above
Your star is below
All I see
Covered in dirt
Hell above
Your star is below
All hope dies
Burning Bridges
I'll take the truth before trust
When the world comes crashing down
Embrace the pain
In a world of lies
(YOW!)
I'll take the truth before trust
Flight betrayed you
Clipped your own
Take a look at what you've become
One truth for you
song performed by by Kittie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So The Story Goes
I close my eyes
To the sound of the sky and I see
Birds in the trees in pastures green
Nothing to do
With the time or the place I perceive
The rush of the sea beneath my feet
Such a lovely world
Oh so magical
Precious like a pearl
Wrapped up in a shell
Build your house of stone
On a bed of sand
Time and tide will rise
Washing through your hands
Hear your heart
See the love
Feel the soul lift up
Hear your heart
See the love
Feel the soul lift up
I lift my eyes
To the sound in the sky and I hear it
A voice on the breeze is so serene
Nothing to do
With the time or the place but I feel it
Like dust on the moon beneath my feet
Such a lovely world
Oh so magical
So the story goes
Sing the madrigal
What a lovely world
Waxing lyrical
See the lies unfold
Hear the miracle
So the story goes...
The lies and the miracle unfold
song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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November
Red o’er the forest peers the setting sun;
The line of yellow light dies fast away
That crown’d the eastern copse; and chill and dun
Falls on the moor the brief November day.
Now the tired hunter winds a parting note,
And Echo bids good-night from every glade;
Yet wait awhile and see the calm leaves float
Each to his rest beneath their parent shade.
How like decaying life they seem to glide
And yet no second spring have they in store;
And where they fall, forgotten to abide
Is all their portion, and they ask no more.
Soon o’er their heads blithe April airs shall sing,
A thousand wild-flowers round them shall unfold,
The green buds glisten in the dews of Spring,
And all be vernal rapture as of old.
Unconscious they in waste oblivion lie,
In all the world of busy life around
No thought of them—in all the bounteous sky
No drop, for them, of kindly influence found.
Man’s portion is to die and rise again:
Yet he complains, while these unmurmuring part
With their sweet lives, as pure from sin and stain
As his when Eden held his virgin heart.
poem by John Keble
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To Isa in Heaven
Early, bright, transient, chaste as morning dew,
She sparkled, was exhaled, and went to heaven! — Young.
Where is she now?
Oh! Isa! tell me where thou art?
If death has laid his hand upon thy brow,
Has he not touched my heart?
Has he not laid it in the grave with thine,
And buried all my joys?—Speak! thou art mine!
If thou were dead,
I would not ask thee to reply;
But thou art living—thy dear soul has fled
To heaven, where it can never die!
Then why not come to me? Return—return
And comfort me, for I have much to mourn!
I sigh all day!
I mourn for thee the livelong night!
And when the next night comes, thou art away,
And so is absent my delight!
Oh! as the lone dove for his absent mate,
So is my soul for thee disconsolate!
I long for death—
For any thing—to be with thee!
I did inhale, alas! thy dying breath,
That it might have some power on me
To make me what thou art!—but, thou art dead!
And I am here!—it strengthened me instead!
Joy there is none—
It went into the grave with thee!
And grief, because my spirit is alone,
Is all that comes to comfort me!
The very air I breathe is turned to sighs,
And all mine soul is melting from mine eyes!
I hear, at even,
The liquid carol of birds;
Their music makes me think of thee in heaven,
It is so much like thy sweet words.
The brooklet whispers, as it runs along,
Our first love-story with its liquid tongue.
Wake, Isa! wake!
And come back in this world again!
Oh! come down to me, for my soul's dear sake,
And cure me of this trying pain!
I would give all that earth to man can be,
If thou wert only in this world with me!
Day after day
I seek thee, but thou art not near!
I sit down on thy grave in the cold clay,
And listen for thy soul!—oh! dear!
And when some withered leaf falls from the tree,
I start as if thy soul had spoke to me!
And so it is,
And so it ever more must ever be
To him, who has been robbed of all the bliss
He ever knew, by loving thee!
For misery, in thine absence, is my wife!
What joy had been, hadst thou remained in life!
It is now even;
The birds have sung themselves to sleep;
And all the stars seem coming out of heaven,
As if to look upon me weep!—
Oh! let me not look up to thee in vain,
But come back to me in this world again!
poem by Thomas Holley Chivers (1842)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Woman’s Sonnets: II
Nay, dear one, ask me not to leave thee yet.
Let me a little longer hold thy hand.
Too soon it is to bid me to forget
The joys I was so late to understand.
The future holds but a blank face for me,
The past is all confused with tears and grey,
But the sweet present, while thy smiles I see,
Is perfect sunlight, an unclouded day.
Speak not of parting, not at least this hour,
Though well I know Love cannot Time outlast.
Let me grow wiser first and gain more power,
More strength of will to deal with my dead past.
Love me in silence still, one short hour's space:
'Tis all I ask of thee, this little grace.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Nature's Hymn to the Deity
All nature owns with one accord
The great and universal Lord:
The sun proclaims him through the day,
The moon when daylight drops away,
The very darkness smiles to wear
The stars that show us God is there,
On moonlight seas soft gleams the sky
And 'God is with us' waves reply.
Winds breathe from God's abode 'we come,'
Storms louder own God is their home,
And thunder yet with louder call,
Sounds 'God is mightiest over all';
Till earth right loath the proof to miss
Echoes triumphantly 'He is,'
And air and ocean makes reply,
God reigns on earth, in air and sky.
All nature owns with one accord
The great and universal Lord:
Insect and bird and tree and flower--
The witnesses of every hour--
Are pregnant with his prophesy
And 'God is with us' all reply.
The first link in the mighty plan
Is still--and all upbraideth man.
poem by John Clare
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Isabel
In the most early morn
I rise from a damp pillow, tempest-tost,
To seek the sun with silent gaze forlorn,
And mourn for thee, my lost
Isabel.
That early hour I meet
The daily vigil of my life to keep,
Because there are no other lights so sweet,
Or shades so long and deep,
Isabel.
And best I think of thee
Beside the duskest shade and brightest sun,
Whose mystic lot in life it was to be
Outshone, outwept by none,
Isabel.
Men said that thou wert fair:
There is no brightness in the heaven above,
There is no balm upon the summer air
Like thy warm love,
Isabel.
Men saw that thou wert bright:
There is no wildness in the winds that blow,
There is no darkness in the winter's night
Like thy dark woe,
Isabel.
And yet thy path did miss
Men's footsteps: in their haunts thou hadst no joy;
The thoughts of other worlds were thine in this;
In thy sweet piety, and in thy bliss
And grief, for life too coy,
Isabel.
And so my heart's despair
Looks for thee ere the firstling smoke hath curled;
While the rapt earth is at her morning pray'r,
Ere yet she putteth on her workday air
And robes her for the world,
Isabel.
When the sun-burst is o'er,
My lonely way about the world I take,
Doing and saying much, and feeling more,
And all things for thy sake,
Isabel.
But never once I dare
To see thine image till the day be new,
And lip hath sullied not the unbreathed air,
And waking eyes are few,
Isabel.
Then that lost form appears
Which was a joy to few on earth but me:
In the young light I see thy guileless glee,
In the deep dews thy tears,
Isabel.
So with Promethean moan
In widowhood renewed I learn to grieve;
Blest with one only thought-that I alone
Can fade: that thou thro' years shalt still shine on
In beauty, as in beauty art thou gone,
Thou morn that knew no eve,
Isabel.
In beauty art thou gone;
As some bright meteor gleams across the night,
Gazed on by all, but understood by none,
And dying by its own excess of light,
Isabel.
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Are not the joys of morning sweeter...
Are not the joys of morning sweetert
Than the joys of night
And are the vigrous joys of youth
Ashamed of the light
5 Let age & sickness silent rob
The vineyards in the night
But those who burn with vigrous youth
Pluck fruits before the light
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1793)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ego
Day passeth day in sunshine or shadow,
Night unto night each cycle is told;
Sun, moon and stars in whirling and glamour,
All unto all the creation unfold.
What of the strivings, what of the gropings,
Out from the darkness into the light?
What of the weepings, what of the grievings
Now from the day to the passionate night?
Stars of the stars, heavens of the heavens,
Rising or falling or pausing a span,
Each to the great "I am" replying
E'en as the crystal, e'en as man.
Chant of the worlds from aeon to aeon,
Song of the soul from dust unto dust,
Dream of the clods that, upward and starward,
Rise to the call of the primal "Thou must."
Space beyond space, eternity's vision,
Chaos to chaos, calm unto calm,
World beneath world, heaven above heaven,
Life but the urge, death but the balm.
poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
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Sweat Drops
Sweat Drops
Sweat drops and sea waves
Are salty alike:
Manifestations of agility.
Purest drops fall down
From the forehead of labor,
But laziness and corpse never sweat.
On all the races are seen sweat dews,
On which fall the victory rays,
Creating the rainbows in the minds.
Mountaineers mount up
In the blue moonlight,
And down in the sweat drops.
Seeds sprout
In each fallen dropp in the field:
Sweat drops are life drops.
Sweat stream
Floats the failures away,
Depositing fresh joys on the shore.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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