The Disenthralled
HE had bowed down to drunkenness,
An abject worshipper:
The pride of manhood's pulse had grown
Too faint and cold to stir;
And he had given his spirit up
To the unblessëd thrall,
And bowing to the poison cup,
He gloried in his fall!
There came a change —the cloud rolled off,
And light fell on his brain —
And like the passing of a dream
That cometh not again,
The shadow of the spirit fled.
He saw the gulf before,
He shuddered at the waste behind,
And was a man once more.
He shook the serpent folds away,
That gathered round his heart,
As shakes the swaying forest-oak
Its poison vine apart;
He stood erect; returning pride
Grew terrible within,
And conscience sat in judgment, on
His most familiar sin.
The light of Intellect again
Along his pathway shone;
And Reason like a monarch sat
Upon his olden throne.
The honored and the wise once more
Within his presence came;
And lingered oft on lovely lips
His once forbidden name.
There may be glory in the might,
That treadeth nations down;
Wreaths for the crimson conqueror,
Pride for the kingly crown;
But nobler is that triumph hour,
The disenthralled shall find,
When evil passion boweth down,
Unto the Godlike mind!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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In Exchange For His Soul!
Long time one whisper'd in his ear--
'Give me my strong, pure soul; behold
'Tis mine to give what men hold dear--
The treasure of red gold.'
'I bribe thee not with crown and throne,
Pale spectres they of kingly pow'r!
I give thee gold--red gold alone
Can crown a king each hour!'
He frown'd, perchance he felt a throe,
Gold-hunger gnawing at his heart--
A passing pang--for, stern and low,
He bade the fiend depart!
Again there came the voice and said:
'Gold for that soul of thine were shame;
Thine be that thing for which have bled
Both Gods and men,--high Fame.
'And in long ages yet to sweep
Their gloom and glory on the day;
When mould'ring kings, forgot, shall sleep
In ashes, dust, and clay:
'Thy name shall, starlike, pulse and burn
On heights most Godlike; and divine,
Immortal bays thy funereal urn
Shall lastingly entwine!'
He sigh'd; perchance he felt the thrill,
The answ'ring pulse to Fame's high call;
But answer made his steadfast will--
'I will not be thy thrall!'
Again there came the voice and cried:
'Dost thou my kingly bribes disdain?
Yet shalt thou barter soul and pride
For things ignobly vain!
'Two shameless eyes--two false, sweet eyes--
A sinful brow of sinless white,
Shall hurl, thy soul from high clear skies
To ME, and Stygian night.
'Beneath the spell of gilded hair,
Thy palms, like sickly weeds, shall die!
God-strong Resolves, a sensuous air
Shall mock and crucify.
'Go to! my thrall at last thou art!
Ere bud to rounded blossom change;
Thou wilt for wanton lips and heart
Most false, thy soul exchange!'
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Poison Heart
No one ever thought this one would survive
Helpless child, gonna walk a drum beat behind
Lock you in a dream, never let you go
Never let you laugh or smile, not you.
Well, I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
Making friends with a homeless torn up man
He just kind of smiles, it really shakes me up.
There's danger on every corner but I'm okay
Walking down the street trying to forget yesterday.
Well, I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart,
a poison heart, a poison heart, a poison heart ... yeah!
You know that life really takes its toll
And a poet's gut reaction is to search his very soul
So much damn confusion before my eyes,
But nothing seems to phase me and this one still survives.
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart,
Well, I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
a poison heart, a poison heart, a poison heart.
a poison heart, a poison heart, a poison heart.
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Procrastination
Poison is my blood,
Poison is my body,
Poison are my thoughts,
They hum around my mind like flies,
Poison is my food,
Hate, jealousy and pride
Are the plants of poison;
They grow in my fertile land,
As wild weeds grow unattended,
I make venomous
Everyone whom I touch.
My existence is contagious,
Why should I be afraid of poison,
Procrastinate in front of the potion,
Now I must have a drink,
For poison will cause no impairment to me.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Elder Speaks
She gathered the young
Stared within the flames of the fire
She spoke of life before and life after
She was old, crippled but her spirit strong.
Stories of old, but lessons within, learned
Honored among her people
She'd never be forgotten
Even long after she was gone
But for now, she had much to say, much to teach
Do Not let poison ride through your veins
Do not let firewater, take away who you are
Do not become some bum, living in the streets
Hold your head up, Show your pride
Dance with the traditions long since gone
Dance like you've not danced before, show your pride
Show your colors, be proud of the heritage given
Be it fullblood or Mixed Blood
Honor the women, the men and the children, the past
I speak to you, for once I was young
Learn the legends, for they are true within words
Respect the Earth, for she is the giver of all life
Respect the Circle, for it never ends
Respect the herbs we use
Do Not abuse Tobacco, Sage, Cedar, Sweetgrass or Peyote
Respect all others, reguardless of their beliefs or way of life
With each word, she spoke, she hugged the young to her chest
They listened with a great admiration, for not many elders wer left
For they were the teachers of the nations
Teachers of the young
The Elder Spoke From her heart, soul and spirit
poem by Brenda Weemes
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Poison Girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
A prey she was for the cruelty of love
While its serpent inside crawled straight towards her heart
The coldest kiss love ceased to exist
While we grew apart like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
The fire in her eyes
Grew dim and then died
As the poison inside
Reached her heart
And the coldest kiss
Faith ceased to exist
As we grew apart
Like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
And the taste of the poison on her lips is of a tomb
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
Poison girl (4x)
And love's heart is death
For me and my poison girl
In this poison world
song performed by by H.I.M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beginning of destruction
pride it’s all your fault
Pride it’s all your fault we in this mess
Pride it’s all your fault we are suffering
Pride it’s all your fault people are shedding blood
Pride it’s all your fault families are destroyed
Pride it’s all your fault people are so greedy and selfish
Pride it’s all your fault people have no love
Pride it’s all your fault are so jealous of each other
Pride it’s all your fault people are so lost
Pride it’s all your fault dying from this horrible diseases
Pride it’s all your fault we have so many orphans
Pride it’s all your fault people are betraying each other
Pride it’s all your fault are dying of hunger
Pride it’s all your fault fathers are sleeping with their children
Pride it’s all your fault people are so heartless
Pride it’s all your fault there is no peace, unity and harmony in this world
Pride it’s all your fault we have all this sorrow
Pride it’s all your fault God has rejected us
Pride it’s all your fault people are so evil
And they have decided to be in love with evil rather than good
You have ruined this world
You are to blame for all this misery
If lucifer did not have pride in his heart we wouldn’t be in this mess
Pride it all your fault! ! !
Vangile Mtyali
poem by Vangile Mtyali
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Poison Girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
A prey she was for the cruelty of love
While its serpent inside crawled straight towards her heart
The coldest kiss love ceased to exist
While we grew apart like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
The fire in her eyes
Grew dim and then died
As the poison inside
Reached her heart
And the coldest kiss
Faith ceased to exist
As we grew apart
Like never before
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
And the taste of the poison on her lips is of a tomb
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And love wants us dead
Just me and my poison girl
I did it all just for her
I did it all just for her
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
Poison girl (4x)
And loves heart is death
For me and my poison girl
In this poison world
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Pride That Comes After
It knows it all, it knows it all,
The world of groans and laughter,
It sneers of pride before a fall,
But the bitter pride comes after:
So leave me and I’ll seek you not,
So seek me and you’ll find me—
But till I know your hand-grip’s true
I’ll stand with hands behind me.
It knows it all, it knows it all,
The world of lies and sorrow—
It prates of pride before a fall,
And of the humble morrow;
But shame and blame are but a name,
Oh, heart that’s hurt past curing!
We’ll drink to-night the sinner’s pride,
The pride that’s most enduring.
They know it all, they know it all,
The curs that pass the sentence.
They preach of pride before a fall
And bitter black repentance:
So leave me when my star is set,
I’ll glory that you leave me,
While one has pride to love me yet
There’s nought on earth shall grieve me.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Neophyte
To-night I tread the unsubstantial way
That looms before me, as the thundering night
Falls on the ocean: I must stop, and pray
One little prayer, and then - what bitter fight
Flames at the end beyond the darkling goal?
These are my passions that my feet must read;
This is my sword, the fervour of my soul;
This is my Will, the crown upon my head.
For see! the darkness beckons: I have gone,
Before this terrible hour, towards the gloom,
Braved the wild dragon, called the tiger on
With whirling cries of pride, sought out the tomb
Where lurking vampires battened, and my steel
Has wrought its splendour through the gates of death
My courage did not falter: now I feel
My heart beat wave-wise, and my throat catch breath
As if I choked; some horror creeps between
The spirit of my will and its desire,
Some just reluctance to the Great Unseen
That coils its nameless terrors, and its dire
Fear round my heart; a devil cold as ice
Breathes somewhere, for I feel his shudder take
My veins: some deadlier asp or cockatrice
Slimes in my senses: I am half awake,
Half automatic, as I move along
Wrapped in a cloud of blackness deep as hell,
Hearing afar some half-forgotten song
As of disruption; yet strange glories dwell
Above my head, as if a sword of light,
Rayed of the very Dawn, would strike within
The limitations of this deadly night
That folds me for the sign of death and sin -
O Light! descend! My feet move vaguely on
In this amazing darkness, in the gloom
That I can touch with trembling sense. There shone
Once, in my misty memory, in the womb
Of some unformulated thought, the flame
And smoke of mighty pillars; yet my mind
Is clouded with the horror of this same
Path of the wise men: for my soul is blind
Yet: and the foemen I have never feared
I could not see (if such should cross the way),
And therefore I am strange: my soul is seared
With desolation of the blinding day
I have come out from: yes, that fearful light
Was not the Sun: my life has been the death,
This death may be the life: my spirit sight
Knows that at last, at least. My doubtful breath
Is breathing in a nobler air; I know,
I know it in my soul, despite of this,
The clinging darkness of the Long Ago,
Cruel as death, and closer than a kiss,
This horror of great darkness. I am come
Into this darkness to attain the light:
To gain my voice I make myself as dumb:
That I may see I close my outer sight:
So, I am here. My brows are bent in prayer:
I kneel already in the Gates of Dawn;
And I am come, albeit unaware,
To the deep sanctuary: my hope is drawn
From wells profounder than the very sea.
Yea, I am come, where least I guessed it so,
Into the very Presence of the Three
That Are beyond all Gods. And now I know
What spiritual Light is drawing me
Up to its stooping splendour. In my soul
I feel the Spring, the all-devouring Dawn,
Rush with my Rising. There, beyond the goal,
The Veil is rent!
Yes: let the veil be drawn.
poem by Aleister Crowley
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Poison! Poison!
Poison I breathe, poison I eat,
And poison poison I do drink,
Poison are my thoughts, poison are my acts,
Poison are my sleeps, poison are my dreams,
My blood is poison, poison is my flesh,
And poison poison are my bones.
Wherever I move
I envenom my fellow beings,
And enlarge my kingdom,
This is how my life goes on,
Living in the world: all poison poison.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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The Higher Courage
Come back again, my olden heart!
Ah, fickle spirit and untrue,
I bade the only guide depart
Whose faithfulness I surely knew:
I said, my heart is all too soft;
He who would climb and soar aloft
Must needs keep ever at his side
The tonic of a wholesome pride.
Come back again, my olden heart!
Alas, I called not then for thee;
I called for Courage, and apart
From Pride if Courage could not be,
Then welcome, Pride! and I shall find
In thee a power to lift the mind
This low and grovelling joy above
’Tis but the proud can truly love.
Come back again, my olden heart!
With incrustations of the years
Uncased as yet, as then thou wert,
Full-filled with shame and coward fears
Wherewith amidst a jostling throng
Of deeds, that each and all were wrong,
The doubting soul, from day to day,
Uneasy paralytic lay.
Come back again, my olden heart!
I said, Perceptions contradict,
Convictions come, anon depart,
And but themselves as false convict.
Assumptions, hasty, crude and vain,
Full oft to use will Science deign;
The corks the novice plies to-day
The swimmer soon shall cast away.
Come back again, my olden heart!
I said, Behold, I perish quite,
Unless to give me strength to start,
I make myself my rule of right
It must be, if I act at all,
To save my shame I have at call
The plea of all men understood,
Because I willed it, it is good.
Come back again, my olden heart!
I know not if in very deed
This means alone could aid impart
To serve my sickly spirit’s need;
But clear alike of wild self-will,
And fear that faltered, paltered still,
Remorseful thoughts of after days
A way espy betwixt the ways.
Come back again, old heart! Ah me!
Methinks in those thy coward fears
There might, perchance, a courage be,
That fails in these the manlier years;
Courage to let the courage sink,
Itself a coward base to think,
Rather than not for heavenly light
Wait on to show the truly right.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Mothers' Forever Stay
When the storm raged
Fell the trees,
Lightening struck
And cloud burst,
Rain lashed on the roof
And tiny white balls
Gathered at our door;
I remember how I would run
With a pounding heart
And hide my face in your sari folds
Until the storm spent… left.
You took me to the courtyard
And pointed at the mango tree;
See, the trunk, didn’t yield to wilful storm.
It’s grounded with roots deep into the earth.
The top shook like you.
I nodded as if I understood.
All I cared for was her nearness
And familiar fragrance.
As I grew old, her morning chants woke
Me from deep slumber, and I lingered in bed
Listening to her footsteps… reassured.
Looking back, when life threw some difficult tests
I had learnt to anchor myself in my breath.
Now there are no sari folds
But what she told
Guides me through highs and lows.
Mother, your little girl is all grown up now,
Just because you showed her how.
Pray mother,
How did you always know
What to say?
Even today I can feel your presence
For mothers never leave,
They forever stay.
a tribute to my mother on her birthday, written on 1st August.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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The Happiest Day, the Happiest Hour
The happiest day- the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.
Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass.
And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!
The happiest day- the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see- have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel- have been:
But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt- that brightest hour
I would not live again:
For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd- fell
An essence- powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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Pride Cometh Before the Fall
Humility was discussing Pride with Heart:
Heart had decided Pride was a great asset.
Discretion chimed in with a hearty disagreement,
“You roll in the pit with this swine! ”
Humility was being denied his rightful place.
Prudence, the brother of Discretion,
Had been outlawed throughout the land
As soon as Pride convinced Heart
That it was he who should take Prudence’s place.
Mistrust had been bound and gagged while he attempted to speak his piece
But Ignorance was allowed to stay.
Knowledge and Experience tried to warn Heart
But he could not see as Pride blocked his view,
Keeping Heart’s attention for his plan.
Now there was only one thing left to do.
Superstition was led to the far reaches of the dwelling
All the while crying out the time old saying,
“Pride cometh before the fall, ” but no one could hear it.
“Ah, ” Pride sighed with relief, “peace and quiet at last! ”
Unbeknownst, there was a rebellious force rising
To defeat that pig called Pride.
He was being a hog with Heart.
A plan was laid and put into play.
There was a knock on Heart’s door and Pride,
Thinking he’d rid this dwelling of rebels,
Gladly offered the guest to enter.
Only, his friend Ignorance was not at this door, no,
Love entered. Pride sprang to his feet,
“You? ! ? What are you doing here? ! ? ”
“I would like a meeting with Heart, if you’d be so kind.”
Heart, having just spoken with Sincere and Individual,
Decided for himself to let Love have his desired appointment.
Heart had a long stay with Love and
With much dismay, Pride knew he had been beaten.
For as the saying goes, “Love conquers all! ”
And now we know: Pride surely cometh before the fall...
Just no one ever mentioned it was the fall into Love.
07-30-2008
poem by Rachel Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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the Happeist Day' - Edgar A. Poe
The happiest day - the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.
Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass.
And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!
The happiest day - the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see - have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel- have been:
But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt - that brightest hour
I would not live again:
For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd - fell
An essence - powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.
- Edgar Allen Poe
poem by Erica Green
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Expected Change
Only God above changes hearts; The One behind as one departs,
From a life that is filled with in sin, when God’s Spirit, lives within,
But, many have only a head belief, and from sin there is no relief,
From their present sinful life, not personally knowing Jesus Christ.
They just struggle day and hour, never sensing The Spirit’s power,
Acknowledging Truth as they hear it, but, not indwelt by The Spirit,
God’s Holy Spirit sent to men, but, only when they are Born Again,
Born of God from Heaven above, by God’s Spirit Christ spoke of.
Many men acknowledge The Lord, but day by day God is ignored,
Living every day, on their own, ignoring Authority of God’s Throne,
God’s Power, that changes a life, who truly comes to Jesus Christ,
God’s Authority to make one whole, as the Spirit indwells that soul.
So professed believers do stumble, as their heart was not humble,
When they professed knowledge of, our Lord God reigning above,
With their present spirit of pride, God’s Holy Spirit wouldn’t reside,
In the heart of the professing soul, so in life they’ll continue to fall.
A Truth that comes with Salvation, is God’s Work of Regeneration,
As God’s Spirit changes everyone, who truly comes to God’s Son,
Change that Scripture makes clear, that in each believer will appear,
But, if change you do not see, you may not know Christ personally.
From Lightning and Tempest
The spring-wind pass'd through the forest, and whispered low in the leaves,
And the cedar toss'd her head, and the oak stood firm in his pride ;
The spring-wind pass'd through the town, through the housetops, casements, and eaves,
And whisper'd low in the hearts of the men, and the men replied,
Singing—'Let us rejoice in the light
Of our glory, and beauty, and might ;
Let us follow our own devices, and foster our own desires.
As firm as our oaks in our pride, as our cedars fair in our sight,
We stand like the trees of the forest that brave the frosts and the fires.'
The storm went forth to the forest, the plague went forth to the town,
And the men fell down to the plague, as the trees fell down to the gale ;
And their bloom was a ghastly pallor, and their smile was a ghastly frown,
And the song of their hearts was changed to a wild, disconsolate wail,
Crying—'God ! we have sinn'd, we have sinn'd,
We are bruised, we are shorn, we are thinn'd,
Our strength is turn'd to derision, our pride laid low in the dust,
Our cedars are cleft by Thy lightnings, our oaks are strew'd by Thy wind,
And we fall on our faces seeking Thine aid, though Thy wrath is just.'
poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
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By your side
I stand watching you throw away your life
you are wearing a wedding ring
yet you have lost your wife
because you look around the room
and you cant find your pride
I stand by your side.
What do you have?
you say you have nothing
but you cant see what you have lost
and you say you will stop
but the drink is all you have got
you look around
and you cant find your pride
I stand by your side.
Your face is cut from a drunken fight
and every morning is a drunken night
the poison you persist must take your sight
leaving you with not one brain cell left
the alcohol has gone to your head
a park bench has become your bed.
I stand by your side unlike your health
but I cant help unless you help yourself
what do you have? Look.
See you cant find your pride.
Understand I cant stand by your side.
poem by Daniel McCann
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After All
The brooding ghosts of Australian night have gone from the bush and town;
My spirit revives in the morning breeze,
though it died when the sun went down;
The river is high and the stream is strong,
and the grass is green and tall,
And I fain would think that this world of ours is a good world after all.
The light of passion in dreamy eyes, and a page of truth well read,
The glorious thrill in a heart grown cold of the spirit I thought was dead,
A song that goes to a comrade's heart, and a tear of pride let fall --
And my soul is strong! and the world to me is a grand world after all!
Let our enemies go by their old dull tracks,
and theirs be the fault or shame
(The man is bitter against the world who has only himself to blame);
Let the darkest side of the past be dark, and only the good recall;
For I must believe that the world, my dear, is a kind world after all.
It well may be that I saw too plain, and it may be I was blind;
But I'll keep my face to the dawning light,
though the devil may stand behind!
Though the devil may stand behind my back, I'll not see his shadow fall,
But read the signs in the morning stars of a good world after all.
Rest, for your eyes are weary, girl -- you have driven the worst away --
The ghost of the man that I might have been is gone from my heart to-day;
We'll live for life and the best it brings till our twilight shadows fall;
My heart grows brave, and the world, my girl, is a good world after all.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Dream of Freedom
'Twas night, and the moonbeams palely fell
On the gloomy walls of a cheerless cell,
Where a captive sought a brief repose
From the bitter pangs of his waking woes.
O'er the dark blue waves the mighty deep
His spirit roamed in the dream of sleep,
To each well-loved spot of his native shore,
Where joyous he roved in the days of yore.
But o'er each scene a shadow threw
A gloom that never used to be,
All seemed so real, yet so untrue
To things once dear to memory.
The hill-side seemed a prison wall
That, grimly frowning, pained the eye;
The old oak-tree, with branches tall,
Looked like a gibbet 'gainst the sky.
Each face familiar once seemed now
A gaoler-face with a stony stare
A mark was set on each fair brow,
And in each voice were tones of care.
Thus mingled in the dreamer's brain
The present with the olden time,
Life's pleasant things with those of pain
And guiltless days with days of crime.
On, on in dream by lofty hill,
Through forest and o'er stormy wave,
He wandered; but he only still
Beheld a world of fettered slaves.
He saw a king surnamed the Great,
Who ruled the nations by his nod;
To billions his one word was fate -
He was a kind of demi-god.
He sat upon a lofty throne
A monarch, with a monarch's mien,
Earth's fairest forms were all his own,
And untold wealth was his I ween.
In the battlfield his arm was might
And his kingly heart was firm and brave;
But he knew not the charm of freedom's light.
For he was ambition's willing slave.
Then he turned from the monarch's throne to gaze
On a lonely cot in a peaceful dell,
Which lit by the sun's departing rays,
Seemed a home of bliss where no woe could dwell.
At the cottage door, with locks of white,
An old man gazed on the western sky,
And watched the sun's declining light
As it slowely sank from his haggard eye.
Alas! His spirit even there,
Where all around was bright and fair,
Was firmly bound to each crime-stained hour
By vivid mem'ry's haunting power,
While conscience o'er the sea of time
A lurid shade of darkness cast,
And conjured up the deeds of crime
That chained him to a guilty past.
In the captive's dream of fancy wild,
He looked no more on the man of care;
His gaze was fixed on a beauteous child
Who knelt at its mother's feet in prayer.
Its little hands were clasped - its eyes
Uplifted were to paradise;
Its simple words of faith and love
Were registered in heaven above;
Recorded there with angels' tears
As they wept o'er the hopes the mother built,
For they looked through the vista of the coming years,
And saw it fettered to future guilt.
And next he saw a youthful pair,
A gallant youth and maiden fair,
Reclining in a vine wreathed bower
At evening's calm and gentle hour.
Their words were such as lovers speak
When none are near; and on her cheek
The blushes deepened while he knelt
And poured out all his passion felt,
And not in vain. Then surely they
Were happy as a summer-day?
Ah! No, for happiness is twin
To purity of life and soul;
And those who only love in sin
Must wander widely from the goal.
The flowers that scented the ev'ing air,
The stars that gleamed from their home above,
Shed pitying tears for the guilty pair,
For they were the slaves of unholy love.
Then he turned from the things of earth to gaze
On the regions of immortality,
Where seraphs chanted their songs of praise,
And every tongue was tuned in joy,
Where countless thousands, clothed in white,
To angel-harps sang 'We are free,
And all who enter these realms of light
From sin and sorrow shall be as we.
Here freedom's waters bright and fair,
Flow undimmed by a single care;
And all who taste of the crystal tide
Of the stream of life that for ever flows,
Can never again be to sin allied,
And is free forever from earthly woes.'
'Twas now the drear-toned prison bell
Loud-echoed through the captive's cell.
He rose - the vision of the night
Again was present to his sight.
He knelt -with fervency he prayed;
Through faith in Christ, his sins forgiven,
The narrow boundary of the grave
Should be the vestibule of Heaven,
Where, disenthralled from all below,
He'd dwell beyond the starry sky,
Free from the pains of earthly woe,
In never-ending liberty!
poem by Owen Suffolk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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