Methought I Saw My Late Espoused Saint
Methought I saw my late espoused Saint
Brought to me like Alcestus from the grave,
Who Jove's great Son to her glad Husband gave,
Rescu'd from death by force though pale and faint.
Mine as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint
Purification in the old Law did save,
And such as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heav'n without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
Her face was veil'd, yet to my fancied sight
Love, sweetness, goodness in her person shin'd
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O as to embrace me she enclin'd
I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.
poem by John Milton
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On His Deceased Wife
METHOUGHT I saw my late espoused Saint
Brought to me like Alcestis from the grave,
Whom Joves great Son to her glad Husband gave,
Rescu'd from death by force though pale and faint.
Mine as whom washt from spot of child-bed taint,
Purification in the old Law did save,
And such, as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heaven without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
Her face was vail'd, yet to my fancied sight,
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shin'd
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O as to embrace me she enclin'd
I wak'd, she fled, and day brought back my night.
poem by John Milton
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Sonnet 23
XXIII
Methought I saw my late espoused saint
Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave,
Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave,
Rescued from death by force, though pale and faint.
Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint
Purification in the Old Law did save,
And such, as yet once more I trust to have
Full sight of her in Heav'n without restraint,
Came vested all in white, pure as her mind:
Her face was veiled, yet to my fancied sight
Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined
So clear, as in no face with more delight.
But O, as to embrace me she inclined,
I waked, she fled, and day brought back my night.
poem by John Milton
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Raison D'Etre
O WEARY night, O weary day,
When heart's delight is far away!
What is the day? A frame of blue
The vacant-glaring sun grins through.
What is the night? A sable veil
Through which the moon peers tired and pale.
O weary day! O weary night!
How far away is heart's delight!
Love hung the sun in his high place
To give me light to see her face,
And love spread out the veil of night
To hide us two from all men's sight.
O kindly night, O pleasant day,
Your use is gone--why should ye stay?
My heart's delight is far away,
O weary night, O weary day.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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God of Love
God of love, whose truth and grace
Reach unbounded as the skies,
Hear thy creature's feeble praise,
Let my ev'ning sacrifice
Mount as incense to thy throne,
On the merits of thy Son.
Me thy providence has led
Through another busy day:
Over me thy wings were spread,
Chasing sin and death away:
Thou hast been my faithful shield,
Thou my footsteps hast upheld.
Tho' the sable veil of night
Hides the cheering face of heav'n,
Let me triumph in the sight
Of my guilt in thee forgiv'n.
In my heart the witness feel,
See the great invisible.
I will lay me down to sleep,
Sweetly take my rest in thee,
Ev'ry moment brought a step
Nearer to eternity:
I shall soon from earth ascend,
Quickly reach my journey's end.
All my sins imputed were
To my dear, incarnate God;
Bury'd in his grave they are,
Drown'd in his atoning blood:
Me thou wilt not now condemn,
Righteous and complete in him.
In the Saviour's right I claim
All the blessings he hath bought;
For my soul the dying Lamb
Hath a full redemption wrought;
Heaven through his desert is mine;
Christ's I am, and Christ is mine!
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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A Lost Angel
When first we met she seemed so white
I feared her;
As one might near a spirit bright
I neared her;
An angel pure from heaven above
I dreamed her,
And far too good for human love
I deemed her.
A spirit free from mortal taint
I thought her,
And incense as unto a saint
I brought her.
Well, incense burning did not seem
To please her,
And insolence I feared she’d deem
To squeeze her;
Nor did I dare for that same why
To kiss her,
Lest, shocked, she’d cause my eager eye
To miss her.
I sickened thinking of some way
To win her,
When lo! she asked me, one fine day,
To dinner!
Twas thus that made of common flesh
I found her,
And in a mortal lover’s mesh
I wound her.
Embraces, kisses, loving looks
I gave her,
And buying bon-bons, flowers and books,
I save her;
For her few honest, human taints
I love her,
Nor would I change for all the saints
Above her
Those eyes, that little face, that so
Endear her,
And all the human joy I know
When near her;
And I am glad, when to my breast
I press her,
She’s just a woman, like the rest,
God bless her!
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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The Looks Of A Lover Enamoured
THOU, with thy looks, on whom I look full oft,
And find therein great cause of deep delight,
Thy face is fair, thy skin is smooth and soft,
Thy lips are sweet, thine eyes are clear and bright,
And every part seems pleasant in my sight;
Yet wote thou well, those looks have wrought my woe,
Because I love to look upon them so.
For first those looks allured mine eye to look,
And straight mine eye stirred up my heart to love;
And cruel love, with deep deceitful hook,
Choked up my mind, whom fancy cannot move,
Nor hope relieve, nor other help behoove
But still to look; and though I look too much,
Needs must I look because I see none such.
Thus in thy looks my love and life have hold;
And with such life my death draws on apace:
And for such death no med'cine can be told
But looking still upon thy lovely face,
Wherein are painted pity, peace, and grace.
Then though thy looks should cause me for to die,
Needs must I look, because I live thereby.
Since then thy looks my life have so in thrall
As I can like none other looks but thine,
Lo, here I yield my life, my love, and all
Into thy hands, and all things else resign
But liberty to gaze upon thine eyen:
Which when I do, then think it were thy part
To look again, and link with me in heart.
poem by George Gascoigne
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In Tintagel Graveyard
Who brought flowers to this grave?
I, said the wren.
I brought them as seeds and then
Watched them grow.
No, said the wind. That's not true.
I blew them across the moor and sea,
I blew them up to the grave's door.
They were a gift from me.
They came of their own accord,
Said the celandine.
I know best. They're brothers of mine.
I am Death's friend,
Said the crow. I ought to know.
I dropped them into the shadow of the leaning stone.
I brought the flowers.
No, said Love,
It was I who brought them,
With the help of the wren's wing,
With the help of the wind's breath,
With the help of the celandine and the crow.
It was I who brought them
For the living and the dead to share,
I was the force that put those flowers there.
poem by Brian Patten
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Hall of Mirrors
Starring down the long impenetrable hallway
Mirror after mirror after mirror
They always bring you back to the same spot
One turn and you walk straight into glass
Another turn and you fall on your ass
You only come face to face with yourself
There’s no escape
From the dark egotistic mind
That brought you here
To the hall of mirrors
Nobody is around to save you
It is only you
It’ll only ever be you
Trapped, lost and suffering
In a field of your repetitive reflection
It's that egotistic mind
That brought you here
To the hall of mirrors
poem by Elyse Elwood
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Love Has Brought Me Around
Dont come to me with your sorrows anymore
I dont need to know
How bad youre feeling today
I declare Ive had my share
And Ive heard it all before
Its time for me to be stealing away
Let those rain clouds roll out on the sea
Let the sun shine down on me, hey, hey
Love has brought me around
Love has brought me around (yes, it has)
Love has brought me around
Love has brought me around
When my sky was full of gray
And my day was full of blue
There was nothing I could do
To see myself through
Now my head is full of springtime
And my heart is full of you
Good-bye lonely blue
It shall all come true
Miss november I detect a frown
Close your eyes and turn it upside down
Love has brought me around
Love has brought me around (dont you know)
Love has brought me around
Love has brought me around
I know you know what
Ive got to say is an old clich? anyway so they say
Love has brought me around
Love has brought me around
Love has brought me around
Love has brought me around (yes, it has)
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mirror of Madmen
I dreamed a dream of heaven, white as frost,
The splendid stillness of a living host;
Vast choirs of upturned faces, line o'er line.
Then my blood froze; for every face was mine.
Spirits with sunset plumage throng and pass,
Glassed darkly in the sea of gold and glass.
But still on every side, in every spot,
I saw a million selves, who saw me not.
I fled to quiet wastes, where on a stone,
Perchance, I found a saint, who sat alone;
I came behind: he turned with slow, sweet grace,
And faced me with my happy, hateful face.
I cowered like one that in a tower doth bide,
Shut in by mirrors upon every side;
Then I saw, islanded in skies alone
And silent, one that sat upon a throne.
His robe was bordered with rich rose and gold,
Green, purple, silver out of sunsets old;
But o'er his face a great cloud edged with fire,
Because it covereth the world's desire.
But as I gazed, a silent worshipper,
Methought the cloud began to faintly stir;
Then I fell flat, and screamed with grovelling head,
'If thou hast any lightning, strike me dead!
'But spare a brow where the clean sunlight fell,
The crown of a new sin that sickens hell.
Let me not look aloft and see mine own
Feature and form upon the Judgment-throne.'
Then my dream snapped: and with a heart that leapt
I saw across the tavern where I slept,
The sight of all my life most full of grace,
A gin-damned drunkard's wan half-witted face.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Behold
Like morning's first light,
like the stars in the night
my love is a sight
to behold.
Like the heat of the sun,
like the rivers that run
My love is the one
I behold.
Like a delicate wine,
like crystal so fine
I'm glad you are mine
to behold.
Like your smile of delight,
like you looked in bridal white
you still are my sight
to behold.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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These Little Ones
'What of the garden I gave?'
God said to me;
'Hast thou been diligent to foster and save
The life of flower and tree?
How have the roses thriven,
The lilies I have given,
The pretty scented miracles that Spring
And Summer come to bring?
'My garden is fair and dear,'
I said to God;
'From thorns and nettles I have kept it clear.
Green-trimmed its sod.
The rose is red and bright,
The lily a live delight;
I have not lost a flower of all the flowers
That blessed my hours.'
'What of the child I gave?'
God said to me;
'The little, little one I died to save
And gave in trust to thee?
How have the flowers grown
That in its soul were sown,
The lovely living miracles of youth
And hope and joy and truth?'
'The child's face is all white,'
I said to God;
'It cries for cold and hunger in the night:
Its little feet have trod
The pavement muddy and cold.
It has no flowers to hold,
And in its soul the flowers you set are dead.'
'Thou fool!' God said.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Second Best
Here in the dark, O heart;
Alone with the enduring Earth, and Night,
And Silence, and the warm strange smell of clover;
Clear-visioned, though it break you; far apart
From the dead best, the dear and old delight;
Throw down your dreams of immortality,
O faithful, O foolish lover!
Here's peace for you, and surety; here the one
Wisdom - the truth! - 'All day the good glad sun
Showers love and labour on you, wine and song;
The greenwood laughs, the wind blows, all day long
Till night.' And night ends all things.
Then shall be
No lamp relumed in heaven, no voices crying,
Or changing lights, or dreams and forms that hover!
(And, heart, for all your sighing,
That gladness and those tears are over, over. . . .)
And has the truth brought no new hope at all,
Heart, that you're weeping yet for Paradise?
Do they still whisper, the old weary cries?
‘’Mid youth and song, feasting and carnival,
Through laughter, through the roses,as of old
Comes Death, on shadowy and relentless feet,
Death, unappeaseable by prayer or gold;
Death is the end, the end!’
Proud, then, clear-eyed and laughing, go to greet
Death as a friend!
Exile of immortality, strongly wise,
Strain through the dark with undesirous eyes
To what may lie beyond it. Sets your star,
O heart, for ever! Yet, behind the night,
Waits for the great unborn, somewhere afar,
Some white tremendous daybreak. And the light,
Returning, shall give back the golden hours,
Ocean a windless level, Earth a lawn
Spacious and full of sunlit dancing-places,
And laughter, and music, and, among the flowers,
The gay child-hearts of men, and the child-faces
O heart, in the great dawn!
poem by Rupert Brooke (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In my lords eyes
I am not what you think I am,
I am not what you want me to be,
I am just what I am.
I still need to know more about me.
Only one person sees my inner self,
With no efforts to be made from my side
Day by day, night by night,
I hear his whisper so gentle and warm,
'Child, I knew you from the beginning,
Before even you got to know yourself,
When your eyes were closed in sleep,
Before you saw the loved ones I gave you.
Trust me my child, its not a joke
I know you more than you do.
A day will come when you will know,
My love for you is true and pure.
Child, for you I came down,
Stood as a little lamb, to be slain,
In my blood you were washed,
In love you were reconciled to me and made mine forever.....'
He is my God
My Lord, my mentor,
Mightiest warrior, Most generous king,
Great judge, and the meek little lamb,
Our Lord has great names,
But name He values most,
The most innocent and tiny one,
Is Love', an unconditional love...., .
poem by Elizabeth Thomas
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Second Sight
Walk away to save your face
You never were a genius
Walk away to save your face
You let it come between us
Walk away to save your face
You never were a genius
Walk away to save your face
You never were, you never were
Yes its just the second night
That I would break back nights for you
Yes I know youre the jealous type
cause Im cursed with second sight so
Walk away to save your face
You never were an actor
Walk away to save your face
Here comes the morning after
Walk away to save your face
You never were an actor
Walk away to save your face
You never were, you never were
Yes its just the second night
That I would break back nights for you
Yes I know youre the jealous type
cause Im cursed with second sight so (x3)
Third verse same as the first
Walk away to save your face
You never were a genius
Walk away to save your face
You let it come between us
Walk away to save your face
You never were a genius
Walk away to save your face
You never were, you never were
Yes its just the second night
That I would break back nights for you
Yes I know youre the jealous type
cause Im cursed with second sight so
Walk away (x 8)
(you never were...)
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her Memories
NOT by her grave: thither I bid them take
Fresh garlands of the flowers that pleased her best,
And lay them by the headstone, for my sake,
My token and remembrance with the rest:
But here, where in the brightening of the west
I see her mountains grow into the sky,
Her native world, and mine because of her,
Here, where that low sigh of the pinewood's stir,
That was her dearest music, fills all sound
,I am with her;
And always, always, past comes passing by,
Lost in her grave, but here as if half found.
Not by her grave: it is too still, too cold,
And save my loss is nothing with me there.
What memories have I there of her of old?
They came not there, the dear lost days that were;
Not she lies there, but only my despair;
Not she, but death and all my loneliness.
What memories save all memories love must shun?
I would not think of death and her as one;
She shall be only life-ful in my mind,
With life's self one;
A name of glad remindings and old bliss,
So something of her presence left behind.
Not by her grave: some day will I return,
When sorrow keeps its wont unvexed by place,
And, sitting on the turf beside, will learn
To call before me there her waking face,
Not that white face that slept and took no trace
Of change because I kissed it, nor for tears.
Some day; for now I should forget her so,
Lose the fair happy woman and but know
The coldness and the silence when she died,
Lose her all so,
My love that was my life of all for years.
She loved this music when the pinewoods sighed.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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In my lords eyes
In my Lords eyes
I am not what you think I am,
I am not what you want me to be,
I am just what I am.
I still need to know more about me.
Only one person sees my inner self,
With no efforts to be made from my side
Day by day, night by night,
I hear his whisper so gentle and warm,
'Child, I knew you from the beginning,
Before you got to know yourself,
When your eyes were closed in sleep,
Before you saw the loved ones I gave you.
Trust me my child, its not a joke
I know you more than you do.
A day will come when you will know,
My love for you is true and pure.
Child, for you I came down,
Stood as a little lamb, to be slain,
In my blood you were washed,
In love you were reconciled to me and made mine forever.....'
He is my God
My Lord, my mentor,
Mightiest warrior, Most generous king,
Great judge, and the meek little lamb,
Our Lord has great names,
But name He values most,
The most innocent and tiny one,
Is Love', an unconditional love...., .
poem by Elizabeth Thomas
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Hymn 151
Prophecy and inspiration.
'Twas by an order from the Lord
The ancient prophets spoke his word;
His Spirit did their tongues inspire,
And warmed their hearts with heav'nly fire.
The works and wonders which they wrought
Confirmed the messages they brought;
The prophet's pen succeeds his breath,
To save the holy words from death.
Great God, mine eyes with pleasure look
On the dear volume of thy book;
There my Redeemer's face I see,
And read his name who died for me.
Let the false raptures of the mind
Be lost, and vanish in the wind;
Here I can fix my hope secure;
This is thy word, and must endure.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Flowerbed
Placed in the midst
Of a twilight zone
My vision went hazy,
My fancy disoriented,
And while my failed dreams
Were in desperation
I had a glimpse
At the loveliest of faces.
Under a white veil.
I stole a glance of the loveliness
Of the countenance benign,
While lamenting
Over the distorted reflections
On the fragmented glass remains
Of my dreams
Of phenomenal dimension,
Which I had fondled
And renewed over the years.
Through your white veil
I stole a glimpse
Of a fascinating amalgam
Of beauty and compassion,
A flowerbed
Of exclusive red roses
Of dewy-freshness
Clad by a thin pall
Of a late winter snow
Of Kashmir Valley.
Through your white veil
I had a glimpse
Of the last oasis
Of my life
In the midst of
A harsh and fiery desert.
Through that white veil
I rejoiced the sight
Of a gorgeous painting
Drawn by a ceremony
Of profound colours.
Under the white veil
I had again a glimpse
Of a fairy of Ajanta fresco
Full of exquisite tenderness
And love of beauty.
Yet, always with a suspicion
Of something deeper
And transcendental.
Beneath the white veil
That embellished your face
Like a patch of snow cladding
The upper reaches of your abode
I had a glimpse
Of your soil and scenery
Of reflection and reality
In full bloom.
Force Behind The Power
(stevie wonder)
Since the beginning of all lifes beginnings
Right at the very dawning of the sun
Any and everyone had cause and reason
For in good all good is done
Now down in every heart there are two forces
One is for the wrong, ones for the right
But never do you have to fear with this as armor
For good always wins the fight
Whats that force behind the power that wakes you each day
Whats that force behind the power that chases eavil away
Whats that force behind the power that puts a smile on your face
It is love, pure love, it is love
In every book of truth it has been written
That we are measured by the things we do
If for the good of all is what you like doing
Then all that good will come to you
That doesnt mean you have to be a rich man
You could be a person living on the street
But if you give but only words to lift someone higher
Then a heart of gold is what you will be
Whats that force behind the power that wakes you each day
Whats that force behind the power that chases eavil away
Whats that force behind the power that puts a smile on your face
It is love, pure love, it is love
Whats that force behind the power that makes you willing to share
Whats that force behind the power that for a lost soul youre there
Whats that force behind the power thats not to busy to care
It is love, pure love, it is love
Not trying to preach about it, but no one can do without it
Whats that force behind the power that will lend a hand
Whats that force behind the power when others cant yes you can
Whats that force behind the power its greater than any man
It is love, gods love, it is love
Whats that force behind the power that tears walls down of hate
Whats that force behind the power that is never too late
Whats that force behind the power that forever will wait
It is love, gods love, it is love
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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