Related quotes: There is in stillness oft...

Solitude

There is in stillness oft a magic power
To calm the breast, when struggling passions lower;
Touch'd by its influence, in the soul arise
Diviner feelings, kindred with the skies.
By this the Arab's kindling thoughts expand,
When circling skies inclose the desert sand;
For this the hermit seeks the thickest grove,
To catch th' inspiring glow of heavenly love.
It is not solely in the freedom given
To purify and fix the heart on heaven;
There is a Spirit singing aye in air,
That lifts us high above all mortal care.
No mortal measure swells that mystic sound,
No mortal minstrel breathes such tones around,—
The Angels' hymn,—the sovereign harmony
That guides the rolling orbs along the sky,—
And hence perchance the tales of saints who view'd
And heard Angelic choirs in solitude.
By most unheard,—because the earthly din
Of toil or mirth has charms their ears to win.
Alas for man! he knows not of the bliss,
The heaven that brightens such a life as this.

poem by John Henry Newman
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Hymns For Ordination and Installation VII

'On earth be peace!'-O God, that word
To our ears comes not, as it came,
When by Judea's shepherds heard
From opening skies and lips of flame.

Yet 't is thy word, when mortal tongue
Makes it the burden of a hymn,
Not less than when, of old, it rung
From golden harps of cherubim.

What though heaven's gates no more expand,
And heavenly hosts their hymning cease!
On earth thine humbler servants stand,
In humbler temples, 'preaching peace.'

Peace to the passions, when they show
Resistance to thy wise control;
Peace to all fears, but those which go
In arms against a sinful soul.

Peace may thy servant preach, who now
Comes, as a herald of thy grace,
To lead thy people when they bow
In worship, in this holy place.

Beneath his care and labors, Lord,
O, grant thy vineyard large increase;
And may a crown, as his reward,
Be given him by the Prince of Peace.

poem by John Pierpont
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Sonnet. On a picture of the Virgin

If the young mother clasp, for the first time,
The mortal child that earthly love has given,
With a deep joy preluding that of heaven;
Who shall describe thy ecstacy sublime,
Oh Virgin mother! when upon thy ear
The message of the announcing angel fell,
In heavenly tones to calm thy rising fear,
And thy approaching glory to fortell.
Was ever mother so divinely blest,
As when, the glow of Heaven yet clinging round him,
Before the weight of human grief had bound him,
The gentle Christ-child to thy heart was prest?
Oh, blessed among women! joy like thine
What hand shall dare describe! alas, not mine.

poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
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The Minister

DIM thro' the sculptured aisles the sunbeam falls
More like a dream
Of some imagined beam,
Than actual daylight over mortal walls.

A strain of music like the rushing wind,
But deep and sweet
As when the waters meet
In one mysterious harmony combined.

So swells the mighty organ, rich and full,
As if it were the soul
Which raised the glorious whole
Of that fair building, vast and wonderful.

Doth not the spirit feel its influence,
All vain and feverish care,
All thoughts that worldly are,
Strife, tumult, mirth, and fear are vanished hence.

The world is put aside, within the heart
Those hopes arise
Thrice sacred mysteries,
In which our earthly nature has no part.

Oh, Christian Fane, the soul expands in thee,
Thine altar and thy tomb
Speak of the hope and doom
Which leads and cheers man to eternity.

poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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The Fortune-Favored

Ah! happy he, upon whose birth each god
Looks down in love, whose earliest sleep the bright
Idalia cradles, whose young lips the rod
Of eloquent Hermes kindles--to whose eyes,
Scarce wakened yet, Apollo steals in light,
While on imperial brows Jove sets the seal of might!
Godlike the lot ordained for him to share,
He wins the garland ere he runs the race;
He learns life's wisdom ere he knows life's care,
And, without labor vanquished, smiles the grace.
Great is the man, I grant, whose strength of mind,
Self-shapes its objects and subdues the fates--
Virtue subdues the fates, but cannot blind
The fickle happiness, whose smile awaits
Those who scarce seek it; nor can courage earn
What the grace showers not from her own free urn!
From aught unworthy, the determined will
Can guard the watchful spirit--there it ends
The all that's glorious from the heaven descends;
As some sweet mistress loves us, freely still
Come the spontaneous gifts of heaven!--Above
Favor rules Jove, as it below rules love!
The immortals have their bias!--Kindly they
See the bright locks of youth enamored play,
And where the glad one goes, shed gladness round the way.
It is not they who boast the best to see,
Whose eyes the holy apparitions bless;
The stately light of their divinity
Hath oft but shone the brightest on the blind;--
And their choice spirit found its calm recess
In the pure childhood of a simple mind.
Unasked they come delighted to delude
The expectation of our baffled pride;
No law can call their free steps to our side.
Him whom he loves, the sire of men and gods
(Selected from the marvelling multitude)
Bears on his eagle to his bright abodes;
And showers, with partial hand and lavish, down,
The minstrel's laurel or the monarch's crown!
Before the fortune-favored son of earth,
Apollo walks--and, with his jocund mirth,
The heart-enthralling smiler of the skies
For him gray Neptune smooths the pliant wave--
Harmless the waters for the ship that bore
The Caesar and his fortunes to the shore!
Charmed at his feet the crouching lion lies,
To him his back the murmuring dolphin gave;
His soul is born a sovereign o'er the strife--
The lord of all the beautiful of life;
Where'er his presence in its calm has trod,
It charms--it sways as solve diviner God.
Scorn not the fortune-favored, that to him
The light-won victory by the gods is given,
Or that, as Paris, from the strife severe,
The Venus draws her darling--Whom the heaven
So prospers, love so watches, I revere!
And not the man upon whose eyes, with dim
And baleful night, sits fate. Achaia boasts,
No less the glory of the Dorian lord
That Vulcan wrought for him the shield and sword--
That round the mortal hovered all the hosts
Of all Olympus--that his wrath to grace,
The best and bravest of the Grecian race
Untimely slaughtered, with resentful ghosts
Awed the pale people of the Stygian coasts!
Scorn not the darlings of the beautiful,
If without labor they life's blossoms cull;
If, like the stately lilies, they have won
A crown for which they neither toiled nor spun;--
If without merit, theirs be beauty, still
Thy sense, unenvying, with the beauty fill.
Alike for thee no merit wins the right,
To share, by simply seeing, their delight.
Heaven breathes the soul into the minstrel's breast,
But with that soul he animates the rest;
The god inspires the mortal--but to God,
In turn, the mortal lifts thee from the sod.
Oh, not in vain to heaven the bard is dear;
Holy himself--he hallows those who hear!
The busy mart let justice still control,
Weighing the guerdon to the toil!--What then?
A God alone claims joy--all joy is his,
Flushing with unsought light the cheeks of men.
Where is no miracle, why there no bliss!
Grow, change, and ripen all that mortal be,
Shapened from form to form, by toiling time;
The blissful and the beautiful are born
Full grown, and ripened from eternity--
No gradual changes to their glorious prime,
No childhood dwarfs them, and no age has worn.--
Like heaven's, each earthly Venus on the sight
Comes, a dark birth, from out an endless sea;
Like the first Pallas, in maturest might,
Armed, from the thunderer's--brow, leaps forth each thought of light.

poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Mortal Love

mortality does
not ask for love eternal

mortal love
cannot outlive eternity’s edge
to an infinite span

mortal love
does not ask forever
never

mortal love
makes lies, makes changes,
twists and turns

mortal love is simple
like a dimple

one tongue
to one earthly word
nope

may do
may say something else

It is only asking
That you love
One day at a time

With all allowance for change
For a wider space
Leeways
Choices

Mortal love is free
frivolous

this love of mine

Today is just enough
mortal
And so rightly deserved

A mortal like me
Also bleeds
Weeds filled

No promises, just a hug, an embrace
And

A kiss, then could be, goodbye.

Because mortal love
Dies, like a wind passing by

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ministriles de marsias: stral fungente d amore

Ten angels praising
Ten angels singing

Alleluia alleluia alleluia
Praise be God
Praise be God
Of the MOST HIGH

Angelic voices
Pure pure pure

I am listening
My neck is growing
Giraffe like
My thorax is
Inflamed

The sound of heaven
Is to me, unbearable

Praise be God
Praise be God

I am listening and my ears are growing
Elephant like
I am flapping my spirit

The sound of heaven
Is to me, uncertain

Praise be God
Praise be God
The Most High

I marvel at the sound of ten angels singing
I marvel at the sound of the angels praising

My heart is growing
My body is shrinking
My brain is shrinking

Look! Look!

Praise be God
Praise be God
The Most High

I am a huge heart
Jumping with joy
Filled with holy air
Like a rubber ball bouncing to the sky!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Probing Questions

Is there something more to life, than endless days of toil and strife?
Is there something after all of this; a Hell below or a Heavenly Bliss?
Can there truly be life after death, this when we take our final breath?
That question always asked is why; do innocent people have to die?
Why do righteous people perish, while evil seems to always flourish?

Friend is there truly a Living God, who rules above the earth we trod?
And does God truly care for us; mortal beings that return to the dust?
Can anyone have true peace of mind, in this world that is so unkind?
Why’s there evil darkness everywhere, if He is a God filled with care?
And why would a God full of love, simply sit and watch from above?

These are just a few of many more, questions asked about my Lord,
Questions that you may have asked; some in the not so distant past.
Many questions are Satan’s reproof, to keep many from God’s Truth,
Let none of them keep you from, Christ who from Heaven has come,
With answers to these and more, on questions about Heaven’s Door.

The Spirit leads to God’s Word, with the answers to questions heard,
Eternal answers which you will find, fill your heart not just your mind.
Where God not just answers them, but gives new life to all my friend.
Then all the questions are second to, the Eternal Life He’s given you.
And now an answer in my life, is to Heaven I’m going in Jesus Christ.

poem by Bob Gotti
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The Kinsmen

The face of our kinship
So beautiful and rare
Will stand forever
Gifted of heaven
No earthly care.

Between time and tranquility
A quest for sensibility.
The search for friends a hunger serves
But most, alas, get on my nerves.

Alone in life
What mortal curse
Could scarce be breached
By something worse.
Companions?
One behind each tree...
Is it I, alone, who thinks like me?

My kindred with a wit so free
A heart so pure and true
You conjure up the best in me
I hope the same for you.

poem by Lynne FincherSpringarden
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An Ode To Mother

It seems the angels were singing a song,
And their melody pleased God’s ears;
Singing of to whom such love belong,
They could subdue all pain and fears.
He asked them about who became
Possessed of a kind of love so grand.
He was told of the sweetest mortal name
That ever satisfied the hearts of man.
The dear name “Mother” God then heard,
It giving sound to the throb of His heart,
As if such a title was that preferred,
And such a figure so honored in classic art.
My own dear mother was second to none,
And enjoys her deserved Elysian rest.
Thus since down from heaven came the Son,
Her role and function is eternally blessed.

poem by Albert Price
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An Angel

Though angels come from heaven, I met one from right here.
When things aren’t right or I’m up tight she has time to be near.
She’s got so much to do, but her response is always the same.
When I seek her help it’s like I’m the only one in the game.

Joann is the name of this angel. All who meet her feel as I do.
Her heart is an ocean of love with a soul we all should pursue.
Her unflinching faith in God pervades all of her life,
Inspiring a purity of spirit as executive, friend, mother and wife.

I am honored to work with and learn from this rare human being.
A mere mortal, but her actions speak of the angel I’m seeing.
Just knowing her has changed the way I view myself in this world.
A more positive attitude and feeling for others has unfurled.

poem by Gregory Huyette
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The Essence of Love I

The youth isn’t timeless,
The beauty is certainly exhausted at the significant time,
The light of the passionate eyes
Will certainly fade away;
Than for which I do proud for love.

O the blind lover,
Learn the truth,
And learn the love.
The love doesn’t concern with moralistic qualities.
The love comes from heaven
And love is cherished, nourished, and fulfilled by heaven;
And this love meets its ends in heaven,
The ultimate happiness of human mortal souls.

When the eyes fell in the passionate glimpses of eyes,
Those eyes find the heaven on it,
Not the mortal beauty of glimpsing.
As the beauty attracts
Nor for the mortal one
But for the heaven which can be found in the soul.
This is love which confines in truth,
The truth of heaven
And the truth of immortality.

All will be decayed by time but love will exist,
All will be vanished by time but love will exist,
All will be exhausted by time but love will exist.
Love, love and only love
And the soul which deserves love
Gets the immortality
And never perishes by time.

This is the fact
The fact of life
And the fact of love.
It is the truth of love,
It is the secret of love,
And it is the worth of love.

As thy soul love,
Learn the haven will come
To make the mingle of heart,
The mingle which creates heaven
Is the sanctified love.
The Heaven is here in the love of heart
The surround in the earthen earth
Where love does prevail
Heaven is firmly perceived there.

poem by Md. Moniruzzaman
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Influence

The fervent, pale-faced Mother ere she sleep,
Looks out upon the zigzag-lighted square,
The beautiful bare trees, the blue night-air,
The revelation of the star-strewn deep,
World above world, and heaven over heaven.
Between the tree-tops and the skies, her sight
Rests on a steadfast, ruddy-shining light,
High in the tower, an earthly star of even.
Hers is the faith in saints' and angels' power,
And mediating love--she breathes a prayer
For yon tired watcher in the gray old tower.
He the shrewd, skeptic poet unaware
Feels comforted and stilled, and knows not whence
Falls this unwonted peace on heart and sense.

poem by Emma Lazarus
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Bright be the place of thy soul

I
Bright be the place of thy soul!
No lovelier spirit than thine
E'er burst from its mortal control,
In the orbs of the blessed to shine.
On earth thou wert all but divine,
As thy soul shall immortally be;
And our sorrow may cease to repine
When we know that thy God is with thee.
When we know that thy God is with thee.
Bright be the place of thy soul,
No lovelier spirit than thine
E'er burst from its mortal control,
In the orbs of the blessed to shine.

II
Light be the turf of thy tomb!
May its verdure like emeralds be!
There should not be the shadow of gloom,
In ought that reminds us of thee.
Young flow'rs and an evergreen tree,
May grow o'er the spot of thy rest.
But nor cypress nor Yew let us see,
For why should we mourn for the blest?
For why should we mourn for the blest?
Bright be the place of thy soul,
No lovelier spirit than thine
E'er burst from its mortal control,
In the orbs of the blessed to shine.

poem by Byron from The Hebrew Melodies (1815)
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Heavenly Flight

Born again into the heaven's free
With my love and only love
Listlessly laying on the clouds with she
In heavenly sky, in heaven above
A paradise for her a paradise for me

Dressed in silvery raiment we both do stare
Into our heavenly eyes
And our souls we share
Our endless love, like endless skies
In the midst of heaven's care

Free as the music of earthly man
We play our songs with no end
Where love is from and love began
We sing music to each other like angels send
Love to one because love we can

Born again born with thee
Our souls do take heavenly flight
Into a heaven, where we can be
Both light, dark, and twilight
Overlooking our home, our vast sea
Beauty and heaven and what's truly free

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Aurobindo 35-Savitri-Book -2

An appreciation on Savitri
Book II The Book of the Traveller of the Worlds
Canto V The Godheads of the Little Life
Words within inverted commas are Aurobindo's

'As if reversing a deformation's spell,
Released from the black magic of the Night,
Renouncing servitude to the dim Abyss,
It shall learn at last who lived within unseen, '
Anticipating peace but intimidated ere the true learning
'And seized with marvel in the adoring heart
To the enthroned Child-Godhead kneel aware,
Trembling with beauty and delight and love.'

'But first the spirit's ascent we must achieve
Out of the chasm from which our nature rose.
The soul must soar sovereign above the form
And climb to summits beyond mind's half-sleep;
Our hearts we must inform with heavenly strength,
Surprise the animal with the occult god.'
And all it needs determination for a heart and soul
Tamed of spiritual food caged in perseverance..

'Then kindling the gold tongue of sacrifice,
Calling the powers of a bright hemisphere,
We shall shed the discredit of our mortal state,
Make the abysm a road for Heaven's descent,
Acquaint our depths with the supernal Ray
And cleave the darkness with the mystic Fire.'
All is well that should end well too
Only if all is possible to end well possible..

'The darkness glimmered like a dying torch.
Around him an extinguished phantom glow
Peopled with shadowy and misleading shapes
The vague Inconscient's dark and measureless cave.
His only sunlight was his spirit's flame.'
That light to lead the soul in the right path..

............My consciousness this moment,
O'Guru, I'm in awe....in invincible heights
Ineffable Thee embellishing poetic creation
My inquisitive apprehension, erring Thee may opine
May thereso, let Savitri in my self arise
Aroused thereso be knowledge and fortune

poem by Indira Renganathan
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To Laura At The Harpsichord

When o'er the chords thy fingers stray,
My spirit leaves its mortal clay,
A statue there I stand;
Thy spell controls e'en life and death,
As when the nerves a living breath
Receive by Love's command! [1]

More gently zephyr sighs along
To listen to thy magic song;
The systems formed by heavenly love
To sing forever as they move,
Pause in their endless-whirling round
To catch the rapture-teeming sound;
'Tis for thy strains they worship thee,--
Thy look, enchantress, fetters me!

From yonder chords fast-thronging come
Soul-breathing notes with rapturous speed,
As when from out their heavenly home
The new-born seraphim proceed;
The strains pour forth their magic might,
As glittering suns burst through the night,
When, by Creation's storm awoke,
From chaos' giant-arm they broke.

Now sweet, as when the silv'ry wave
Delights the pebbly beach to lave;
And now majestic as the sound
Of rolling thunder gathering round;
Now pealing more loudly, as when from yon height
Descends the mad mountain-stream, foaming and bright;
Now in a song of love
Dying away,
As through the aspen grove
Soft zephyrs play:
Now heavier and more mournful seems the strain,
As when across the desert, death-like plain,
Whence whispers dread and yells despairing rise,
Cocytus' sluggish, wailing current sighs.

Maiden fair, oh, answer me!
Are not spirits leagued with thee?
Speak they in the realms of bliss
Other language e'er than this?

poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Sonnet. Milton

Oh bard! what though upon thy mortal eyes
There fell no glimmering ray of earthly light,
And the deep shadow of eternal night
Shut from thy gaze our lovely earth and skies,
Yet was it to thy spirit's vision given
To gaze upon the splendors of that shore
Eye had not seen, nor heart conceived before.
Then didst thou, Poet Laureate of heaven,
Sing of those courts and of that angel host,
Of that majestic Spirit who in vain
Dared, warred, and fell, never to rise again,
And of that Paradise so early lost,
In strains "posterity shall not let die,"
In "thoughts that wander through eternity."

poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
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A Song for St. Cecilia's Day

FROM harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began:
When nature underneath a heap
Of jarring atoms lay,
And could not heave her head,
The tuneful voice was heard from high,
'Arise, ye more than dead!'
Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry,
In order to their stations leap,
And Music's power obey.
From harmony, from heavenly harmony,
This universal frame began:
From harmony to harmony
Through all the compass of the notes it ran,
The diapason closing full in Man.

What passion cannot Music raise and quell?
When Jubal struck the chorded shell,
His listening brethren stood around,
And, wondering, on their faces fell
To worship that celestial sound:
Less than a God they thought there could not dwell
Within the hollow of that shell,
That spoke so sweetly, and so well.
What passion cannot Music raise and quell?

The trumpet's loud clangour
Excites us to arms,
With shrill notes of anger,
And mortal alarms.
The double double double beat
Of the thundering drum
Cries Hark! the foes come;
Charge, charge, 'tis too late to retreat!

The soft complaining flute,
In dying notes, discovers
The woes of hopeless lovers,
Whose dirge is whisper'd by the warbling lute.

Sharp violins proclaim
Their jealous pangs and desperation,
Fury, frantic indignation,
Depth of pains, and height of passion,
For the fair, disdainful dame.

But O, what art can teach,
What human voice can reach,
The sacred organ's praise?
Notes inspiring holy love,
Notes that wing their heavenly ways
To mend the choirs above.

Orpheus could lead the savage race;
And trees unrooted left their place,
Sequacious of the lyre;
But bright Cecilia rais'd the wonder higher:
When to her organ vocal breath was given,
An angel heard, and straight appear'd
Mistaking Earth for Heaven.

GRAND CHORUS.

As from the power of sacred lays
The spheres began to move,
And sung the great Creator's praise
To all the Blest above;
So when the last and dreadful hour
This crumbling pageant shall devour,
The trumpet shall be heard on high,
The dead shall live, the living die,
And Music shall untune the sky!

poem by John Dryden
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Life is not A question, But It is an experience!

Life is not a question that to be
solved,
it should be experienced!
Life is that experience of facing
and solving problems,
toughest is to know the one who experience.
The evolution of life itself is story
of trial and error!
life itself is that greatest observer
of itself!

The vision of invisible viewing through mortal eyes,
hearing the silent eloquent by mortal ears,
touching the one beyond touch by mortal skin,
Smelling the one odourfree by mortal nose,
Tasting the one who is tastefree by mortal tongue
Immortal showing up as mortal!

Life is an experience between birth and death,
coming here as nothing,
Learning to love and hate,

Learning to work and expect fruits,
developing skill to use senses and devices,
Learning to use mind and intelligence,
Learning and conveying message,
The message of immortal to mortal,
The truth itself in pursuit of Truth!
Life itself is that truth,
looks like an experience
that constantly puts
its own existence
on trial...

The one who had born has to die,
But one who is eternal continues his eternal play!

poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Aurobindo 118 Savitri Book 7

An appreciation on Savitri-
Book Seven: The Book of Yoga
Canto Six: Nirvana and the Discovery of the All-Negating Absolute
Words within inverted commas are Aurobindo's

'But most her gaze pursued the birth of thought.'
'Affranchised from the look of surface mind
She paused not to survey the official case,
The issue of forms from the office of the brain,
Its factory of thought-sounds and soundless words
And voices stored within unheard by men,
Its mint and treasury of shining coin.
These were but counters in mind's symbol game, '

'In our unseen subtle body thought is born
Or there it enters from the cosmic field.
Oft from her soul stepped out a naked thought
Luminous with mysteried lips and wonderful eyes; '
'A seeing will pondered between the brows; '
Thoughts, glistening Angels, stood behind the brain
In flashing armour, folding hands of prayer,
And poured heaven's rays into the earthly form.'

'Impenetrable, withheld from mortal sense,
The inner chambers of the spirit's house
Disclosed to her their happenings and their guests; '
'A sight opened upon the invisible
And sensed the shapes that mortal eyes see not,
The sounds that mortal listening cannot hear,
The blissful sweetness of the intangible's touch; '
So spiritual sense differs from mortal sense..

'She felt the movements crossing unknown minds;
The past's events occurred before her eyes.
The great world's thoughts were part of her own thought, '
'The unseen grew visible and audible: '
'So she beheld the many births of thought,
If births can be of what eternal is; '......