In The Churchyard At Cambridge. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
In the village churchyard she lies,
Dust is in her beautiful eyes,
No more she breathes, nor feels, nor stirs;
At her feet and at her head
Lies a slave to attend the dead,
But their dust is white as hers.
Was she a lady of high degree,
So much in love with the vanity
And foolish pomp of this world of ours?
Or was it Christian charity,
And lowliness and humility,
The richest and rarest of all dowers?
Who shall tell us? No one speaks;
No color shoots into those cheeks,
Either of anger or of pride,
At the rude question we have asked;
Nor will the mystery be unmasked
By those who are sleeping at her side.
Hereafter?--And do you think to look
On the terrible pages of that Book
To find her failings, faults, and errors?
Ah, you will then have other cares,
In your own short-comings and despairs,
In your own secret sins and terrors!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Related quotes
Fairy Dust
Here
See the little queer
There's a volunteer
Dont you think he should get a haircut now
Like in the Marines
All the magazines
Got a way for everyone to shape up
You don't wanna fall behind
Choking on a cloud of fairy dust - fairy dust
Now it's only greed and lust
And pride and lust
And a few other sins
No
See the cherry lips
Hands on the hips
Anyone would your name was Oscar Wilde
Think you're pretty smart
Poetry and art
Put him testosterone and vodka
calling for the man of steel
to blow you faggots into fairy dust - fairy dust
now it's only greed and lust
and pride and lust
and a few other sins
we're
happy to be gay
showing you the way
gotta get your head your hear you toso hard
join another gym
loose your pseudonym
soon we'll all be strait but only more so
tell me who's you're gonna find
to spinkle on a little fairy dust - fairy dust
now it's only greed and lust
and pride and lust
and a few other sins
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Handful Of Dust
Your pressed your face against my heart
I felt that you could look right through me
we live in days that have no time
we live in times that now refuse me
and somewhere out beyond his town
there lies a world that now can turn us round
and we need it and we need it
oh got to have some thing to believe in
I've got enough to believe in you
what can I give just to know that it's true ?
But I've gotta begin to say
now they've taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
I feel to thin before your eyes
I feel so naked under open skies
I once stood tall within this town
but now the time has come to bring us down.
We must have more with his power in hand
we must believe things will go as we planned
but I've gotta begin to say
now they've taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust,
with a handful of dust ?
Making love through electric skies
now I know where my fortune lies
breathe the air and feel this land
'cause it's slipping through me
like dust from my hand.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
How can you give me your love ?
Now give me your love!
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Handful Of Dust
Your pressed your face against my heart
I felt that you could look right through me
We live in days that have no time
We live in times that now refuse me
And somewhere out beyond his town
There lies a world that now can turn us round
And we need it and we need it
Oh got to have some thing to believe in
Ive got enough to believe in you
What can I give just to know that its true ?
But Ive gotta begin to say
Now theyve taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
I feel to thin before your eyes
I feel so naked under open skies
I once stood tall within this town
But now the time has come to bring us down.
We must have more with his power in hand
We must believe things will go as we planned
But Ive gotta begin to say
Now theyve taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust,
With a handful of dust ?
Making love through electric skies
Now I know where my fortune lies
Breathe the air and feel this land
cause its slipping through me
Like dust from my hand.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
How can you give me your love ?
Now give me your love!
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
Give me
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Beautiful City
You are my city
the gaudy glow of neon light
that dispels the darkness of the night
Enhailing this dust flying smells ands feels like home
the cloudy weather, the dim trees, the city looked like and open book.
with nature bringing a colourful beauty to ones heart
Alone i lay on a wooden raft
my breath is void of oxygen
my heart is scribbled without rythm
to the beautiful change made by ur smiling culture
The shimmers of the moon made the rest of the city glimmer
now its clear why ure a symbol of pride
The lullaby tunes of the mocking bird awakenes momments of passion
My head speaks and so does my heart
am lost in the beautiful city and for ever i want to be
Here, laughter is a pleasant sound
it spreads joy all around
flushing out every despairs of the heart
Just for this city
i will open my eyes and ask the creator for one more day
this are my praises 4 the city in u.
M.J. Une
performances candle-lit
practiced and practiced the outbursts and sobs
the short, little gasps solidify the act
fell again and again for it
beautiful heaven
hidden by beautiful eyes
it's terrible how hard i try
explanations and confessions
pace back and forth, anxious and scared
secrets built up against the door
revelations in tension
beautiful heaven
hidden by beautiful lies
it's terrible how hard i tried
romantic lost lovers
calling out in psychic beckoning vibes
answered on the phone by absence and static
busy now under the covers
beautiful heaven
hidden by beautiful lies
it's terrible how hard i tried
poem by Sebastien St. Fellmore
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Indra
DOWN to the sand-covered earth.
Straw from the harvested fields soiled our feet;
Dust from the high-roads,
Smoke from the cities,
Foul-smelling breaths,
Fumes from cellars and kitchens,
All we endured.
Then to the open sea we fled,
Filling our lungs with air,
Shaking our wings,
And laving our feet.
Indra, Lord of the Heavens,
Hear us!
Hear our sighing!
Unclean is the earth;
Evil is life;
Neither good nor bad
Can men be deemed.
As they can, they live,
One day at a time.
Sons of dust, through dust they journey;
Born out of dust, to dust they return.
Given they were, for trudging,
Feet, not wings for flying.
Dusty they grow--
Lies the fault then with them,
Or with Thee?
poem by August Strindberg
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The Answer is Blowing in the Wind - Acrostic Sonnet
T ime’s pages Chance’s spendthrift hand is turning,
H ere choice is made, there other options spurned.
E arly or late see dust to dust retu[r]ning,
A nd after all is over, what is learned?
N ow live, now love, spend now! What credit earning
S hall long remain? Inconstant, unconcerned,
W aste men paste days on canvas undiscerning, -
E fforts vain, f[l]amed reputations burned.
R emembered are the living, not the urned!
I f answer lies ahead, a head lies, churning –
S o little space, lost face, or feelings spurned -
B rinkmanship judgemental, solace yearning.
L ost who seek answers based on white or black,
Wing in the wind needs t[r]ack yet not attack.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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War Paint
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Girl before the mirror
Appraises her disguise
Child become a mother
Tries to fix her eyes
No more of his excuses
It has to be today
She can keep her fantasy
If she can get away
Paint her name on a one-way street
Painted cheeks with angry heat
Wounded pride on painted eyes
Paint the night with battlecries
All puffed up with vanity
We see what we want to see
To the beautiful and the wise
The mirror always lies
Boy before the mirror
Checks his camoflauge
Polishes his armor
And the charger in the garage
No more lame excuses
It has to be tonight
He can take the princess
If he can take the fight
Pound the drums with martial beat
Pound the streets with marching feet
Wounded pride, distorted eyes
Paint the night with battlecries
All puffed up with vanity
We see what we want to see
To the powerful and the wise
The mirror always lies
Boys and girls together
Mistake conceit for pride
--- ambition for illusion
--- dreams for self-delusion
Girls and boys together
See what it is we lack
Boys and girls together
Lets paint the mirror black
Paint it black
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Is Not Beauty I Demand
It is not Beauty I demand,
A crystal brow, the moon's despair,
Nor the snow's daughter, a white hand,
Nor mermaid's yellow pride of hair.
Tell me not of your starry eyes,
Your lips that seem on roses fed,
Your breasts where Cupid trembling lies,
Nor sleeps for kissing of his bed.
A bloomy pair of vermeil cheeks,
Like Hebe's in her ruddiest hours,
A breath that softer music speaks
Than summer winds a-wooing flowers.
These are but gauds; nay, what are lips?
Coral beneath the ocean-stream,
Whose brink when your adventurer sips
Full oft he perisheth on them.
And what are cheeks but ensigns oft
That wave hot youth to fields of blood?
Did Helen's breast though ne'er so soft,
Do Greece or Ilium any good?
Eyes can with baleful ardor burn,
Poison can breath that erst perfumed,
There's many a white hand holds an urn
With lovers' hearts to dust consumed.
For crystal brows--there's naught within,
They are but empty cells for pride;
He who the Syren's hair would win
Is mostly strangled in the tide.
Give me, instead of beauty's bust,
A tender heart, a loyal mind,
Which with temptation I could trust,
Yet never linked with error find.
One in whose gentle bosom I
Could pour my secret heart of woes.
Like the care-burdened honey-fly
That hides his murmurs in the rose.
My earthly comforter! whose love
So indefeasible might be,
That when my spirit won above
Hers could not stay for sympathy.
poem by George Darley
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White in the Moon the Long Road Lies
White in the moon the long road lies,
The moon stands blank above;
White in the moon the long road lies
That leads me from my love.
Still hangs the hedge without a gust,
Still, still the shadows stay:
My feet upon the moonlit dust
Pursue the ceaseless way.
The world is round, so travellers tell,
And straight though reach the track,
Trudge on, trudge on, 'twill all be well,
The way will guide one back.
But ere the circle homeward hies
Far, far must it remove:
White in the moon the long road lies
That leads me from my love.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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You Are Unto Dust
You are made from the dust of the earth,
And the Wailing-Wall will be there for you;
For you are unto dust and you shall return unto dust,
And this is just the journey of the spirit.
To the realm of the unknown and to the things we do for love,
And until death put us apart on this side of the planet;
For the flesh goes back to where it belongs to!
Yes, back to the earth.
Death is part of us and we need to learn from others,
For we have to be prepared as well;
For he flesh goes back to where it belongs to;
And out of the dust we were made.
The dust became flesh and today we are human beings,
And from the knowledge of the things to come;
But naked we came and naked we shall return.
Shed no tears on this love,
For death comes for all of us on this earth;
And we need to learn from the facts around us as well,
For it is better to be very righteous than to be buried with evil deeds.
Life is a long road full of sand and,
All that is acquired on this earth is vanity!
Yes, vanity upon vanity! !
For you and i are unto dust and,
Unto dust we shall return at the end of of all things.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Red Lips, Blue Eyes, Little White Lies
(kostas/brent moyer)
Red lips, blue eyes and little white lies
Oh darlin Im a fool for you
Hey darlin why cant you can be true
Red lips, blue eyes and sweet disguise
Oh darlin the things you put me through
Your little white lies are breaking my heart in two
You come around and tell me that you love me so
You take a little loving then you say you gotta go
I know hes waiting for you on the other side of town
Well Im a fool to love you baby cause I know youre messing around
Red lips, blue eyes and little white lies
Oh darlin why cant you be true
Im crazy to love you baby you know I do, yeah
Sooner or later youll have to face the truth
Little white lies will catch up with you
With nowhere to run and no where to hide
And no one to love you there by your side
Red lips, blue eyes and little white lies
Oh darlin the things you put me through
But your little white lies are gonna catch up with you
Oh your little white lies are gonna catch up with you
Baby your little white lies are gonna catch up with you
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Have pride and vanity
Service and sacrifice can be the base
For your pride and not your caste or creed.
Have pride that you have helped someone rise
And not that you have conquered someone.
Pride is that one feels about oneself high.
Show vanity for your simplicity;
Show not vanity for your affluence.
Show vanity for your affinity;
Show not vanity for your elegance.
Vanity is that one shows oneself high.
11.07.208
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Beware Of The Pie Cooker
There's never a dull moment as far as I can see
About a lady who's a librarian in Shrewsbury
Come what may she's a darling of the town
Always seen driving her Eos with the hood down
Hard as nails and an ass to match
She'll make someone a perfect- dare I say - catch
So anything you need to know is inside her head
Reading books to keep her brain well fed
But this Joan d'arc of the literary world
Has a secret that has yet to unfold
Given a chance she likes nothing more than to cook
Exciting things that turns heads and not pages of a book
So here's an example and you'll understand why
This lady loves making all sorts of pies
Be it vegetarian, pork or something special like Creole,
The main ingredient will always be soul
Whether it be human, dog or cat,
Who cares, she's enjoys herself and that's that
And whilst poor old Goober lies there waiting for fate
She's busy deciding what would be nice to put on a plate
Hot dog, burger, fish finger or cottage pie
No doubt thinking what to do when poor Goober dies
So, be not in haste
For if supper is late
Goober is not dead but is there licking his dinner plate.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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The Symbol
Thus pass the glories of the world!
He lies beneath the pall’s white folds:
His sword is sheathed, his pennon furled,
Him silence holds.
The pilgrim staff, the cockle shell,
The crown, the sceptre of his pride,
The simple flower from forest dell,
Heap at his side.
And add thereto the wild-heart lute
The voice of love and twilight song;
Those passioned strings though he is mute
Remember long.
And move not thence his evening book,
The sifted grains of calm and storm;
And bow before that dust-strewn nook
And silent form.
To-morrow hath no hope for him,
No clasp of friend, no grip of foe:
Remember, love, with eyes tear-dim,
We too must go.
poem by James Hebblethwaite
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Sometimes I am amazed of the magic that is done
It all started with something insignificant
Like dust,
Sticking on a window pane, and I want it
Dusted off, it is dirt, it is unwanted,
And I do not even know what to do next
About such
Insignificance and feelings of simply
Trying to get rid of dust immediately,
But then, I begin to think about this
Dust, this me, this dust in me,
Some dusts on my feet, some dusts on
My forehead, and some dusts in my ears,
Some dusts in my eyes so obstructive
Of what I really am, and I know what to do next,
The bulb lighting in my head in a sudden,
I touch the dust,
I feel the dust with my fingers, and I am crazy enough
I taste the dust on my window pane,
And I shiver,
I am shaking to its taste, the taste of nothingness
If was from dust that I really come,
I now remember,
It will be to dust that I shall return,
I am now reminded,
And the dust that I used to see
As dirt, as something so insignificant, is now,
A magical patch, glistening, so filled with meaning,
I am nothing but dust; I am biting the dust,
I am very insignificant, in that window pane, at first.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Buddha Himself Weeps
The wind passing by me,
Has blood smell with cries,
By and by I open my eyes and see,
Wounded humanity before me lies,
In the lap of Buddha her head she keeps,
Seeing her misery, he himself weeps.
The Last Mughal comes to him in white attire,
Speaks softly having tears in his eyes,
'Who has disturbed me by putting fire?
Why hurt humanity in thy lap lies?
Brought me here from India for final rest,
I've been given for her the sacrificing test.'
'Anger is the foe of peace and brain,
It has put fire that forced thee arise,
I have come to heal my daughter again, '
Buddha speaks having tears in hiseyes,
'They are not mine but wild criminal indeed,
They will have to pay someday for their deed.'
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
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Psalm 49 part 1
v.6-14
C. M.
Pride and death; or, The vanity of life and riches.
Why doth the man of riches grow
To insolence and pride,
To see his wealth and honors flow
With every rising tide?
[Why doth he treat the poor with scorn,
Made of the self-same clay,
And boast as though his flesh was born
Of better dust than they?]
Not all his treasures can procure
His soul a short reprieve,
Redeem from death one guilty hour,
Or make his brother live.
[Life is a blessing can't be sold,
The ransom is too high;
Justice will ne'er be bribed with gold,
That man may never die.]
He sees the brutish and the wise,
The tim'rous and the brave,
Quit their possessions, close their eyes,
And hasten to the grave.
Yet 'tis his inward thought and pride,-
My house shall ever stand
And that my name may long abide,
I'll give it to my land."
Vain are his thoughts, his hopes are lost,
How soon his memory dies!
His name is written in the dust
Where his own carcass lies.
PAUSE.
This is the folly of their way;
And yet their sons, as vain,
Approve the words their fathers say,
And act their works again.
Men void of wisdom and of grace,
If honor raise them high,
Live like the beast, a thoughtless race,
And like the beast they die.
[Laid in the grave like silly sheep,
Death feeds upon them there,
Till the last trumpet break their sleep
In terror and despair.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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I'm The Richest Woman
You should know
I’m the richest woman!
I’ll tell you now
With more than you!
Do you hear me?
I’m the richest lady!
Pay attention
Wanting money
Wanting something
Anything other than poverty
You see I’m terribly poor
I fell in love with being at the bottom
Poorer than a church mouse
I could easily end up in a hovel
Yet I won’t cry over a ripped blouse
You see I have no money to worry about
No finances to keep me up in terrible doubt
You see one day I’ll be richer than God
And my name will rise higher than Heaven
I have a soul that no money could afford
I have the face that no surgeon could create
I want the world to know
I’m the richest woman you’ll know in life
You hear me, world?
I have no money to buy the shiniest knife
I tell the world
I’m the richest woman, because I’m so fly
It’s all due to
I have the soul that no money could buy
I’m a goddess of spirit and the queen here
I’m such a cute and trusting little dear
You can trust that I’ll never lose my mind
And to my poverty I’ll always be so blind
My parents can barely afford the rent
A family of four in a one bedroom apartment
You see I’m the brightest diamond in this
A rough that I have turned into my bliss
I do not have the finest clothes
But I have the finest nose
Leather of the finest, never
My skin is the finest endeavor
A size for which any boy would kill
Would you believe? That I’m rolling in gold
A heart of gold and life
The world should know in its heart
I’m the richest woman in this world!
The world will know beyond a doubt
I’m the richest woman, and wisest being!
The world will see in shining light
I’m the richest lady to walk the streets
Despite the fact so small and lame
I have no Jimmy Choo stuff on my feet
The world will love in their hearts
I’m the richest woman you’ll ever know
The world will know through and through
I’m the richest thing that’s living now
Let the world love me
I’m the richest woman
I happen to be the richest woman
Do you understand?
I’m the richest darling
The finest person
With the upmost caring
That’s why I care
For the world to know
I’m the richest woman!
poem by German Alcala
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This Secret Land Of Dreams
The little fairy in white dress
She sprinkles fairy dust round
How the dust sparkles so
As it gently falls to the ground
This Secret Land Of Dreams
Up high she awaits with smile
She makes dreams come true
I felt the dust hit my shoulder
And there came you in view
This Secret Land Of Dreams
poem by Suelynn Walters
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