Vanity Of Life
The evils that beset our path
Who can prevent or cure?
We stand upon the brink of death
When most we seem secure.
If we today sweet peace possess,
It soon may be withdrawn;
Some change may plunge us in distress,
Before tomorrow's dawn.
Disease and pain invade our health
And find an easy prey;
And oft, when least expected, wealth
Takes wings and flies away.
A fever or a blow can shake
Our wisdom's boasted rule;
And of the brightest genius make
A madman or a fool.
The gourds, from which we look for fruit,
Produce us only pain;
A worm unseen attacks the root,
And all our hopes are vain.
I pity those who seek no more
Than such a world can give;
Wretched they are, and blind, and poor,
And dying while they live.
Since sin has filled the earth with woe,
And creatures fade and die;
Lord wean our hearts from things below,
And fix our hopes on high.
poem by John Newton
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Related quotes
Psalm 55
v.1-8,16-18,22
C. M.
Support for the afflicted and tempted soul.
O God, my refuge, hear my cries,
"Behold my flowing tears;
For earth and hell my hurt devise,
And triumph in my fears.
Their rage is leveled at my life,
My soul with guilt they load,
And fill my thoughts with inward strife,
To shake my hope in God.
With inward pain my heart-strings sound,
I groan with ev'ry breath;
Horror and fear beset me round
Amongst the shades of death.
O were I like a feathered dove,
And innocence had wings,
I'd fly, and make a long remove
From all these restless things.
Let me to some wild desert go,
And find a peaceful home;
Where storms of malice never blow,
Temptations never come.
Vain hopes, and vain inventions all
To 'scape the rage of hell!
The mighty God on whom I call,
Can save me here as well.
PAUSE.
By morning light I'll seek his face,
At noon repeat my cry;
The night shall hear me ask his grace,
Nor will he long deny.
God shall preserve my soul from fear,
Or shield me when afraid;
Ten thousand angels must appear,
If he command their aid.
I cast my burdens on the Lord,
The Lord sustains them all;
My courage rests upon his word,
That saints shall never fall.
My highest hopes shall not be vain,
My lips shall spread his praise;
While cruel and deceitful men
Scarce live out half their days.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The Vanity of All Worldly Things
As he said vanity, so vain say I,
Oh! Vanity, O vain all under sky;
Where is the man can say, "Lo, I have found
On brittle earth a consolation sound"?
What isn't in honor to be set on high?
No, they like beasts and sons of men shall die,
And whilst they live, how oft doth turn their fate;
He's now a captive that was king of late.
What isn't in wealth great treasures to obtain?
No, that's but labor, anxious care, and pain.
He heaps up riches, and he heaps up sorrow,
It's his today, but who's his heir tomorrow?
What then? Content in pleasures canst thou find?
More vain than all, that's but to grasp the wind.
The sensual senses for a time they pleasure,
Meanwhile the conscience rage, who shall appease?
What isn't in beauty? No that's but a snare,
They're foul enough today, that once were fair.
What is't in flow'ring youth, or manly age?
The first is prone to vice, the last to rage.
Where is it then, in wisdom, learning, arts?
Sure if on earth, it must be in those parts;
Yet these the wisest man of men did find
But vanity, vexation of the mind.
And he that know the most doth still bemoan
He knows not all that here is to be known.
What is it then? To do as stoics tell,
Nor laugh, nor weep, let things go ill or well?
Such stoics are but stocks, such teaching vain,
While man is man, he shall have ease or pain.
If not in honor, beauty, age, nor treasure,
Nor yet in learning, wisdom, youth, nor pleasure,
Where shall I climb, sound, seek, search, or find
That summum bonum which may stay my mind?
There is a path no vulture's eye hath seen,
Where lion fierce, nor lion's whelps have been,
Which leads unto that living crystal fount,
Who drinks thereof, the world doth naught account.
The depth and sea have said " 'tis not in me,"
With pearl and gold it shall not valued be.
For sapphire, onyx, topaz who would change;
It's hid from eyes of men, they count it strange.
Death and destruction the fame hath heard,
But where and what it is, from heaven's declared;
It brings to honor which shall ne'er decay,
It stores with wealth which time can't wear away.
It yieldeth pleasures far beyond conceit,
And truly beautifies without deceit.
Nor strength, nor wisdom, nor fresh youth shall fade,
Nor death shall see, but are immortal made.
This pearl of price, this tree of life, this spring,
Who is possessed of shall reign a king.
Nor change of state nor cares shall ever see,
But wear his crown unto eternity.
This satiates the soul, this stays the mind,
And all the rest, but vanity we find.
poem by Anne Bradstreet
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Vanity of All Worldly Things, The
As he said vanity, so vain say I,
Oh! Vanity, O vain all under sky;
Where is the man can say, "Lo, I have found
On brittle earth a consolation sound"?
What isn't in honor to be set on high?
No, they like beasts and sons of men shall die,
And whilst they live, how oft doth turn their fate;
He's now a captive that was king of late.
What isn't in wealth great treasures to obtain?
No, that's but labor, anxious care, and pain.
He heaps up riches, and he heaps up sorrow,
It's his today, but who's his heir tomorrow?
What then? Content in pleasures canst thou find?
More vain than all, that's but to grasp the wind.
The sensual senses for a time they pleasure,
Meanwhile the conscience rage, who shall appease?
What isn't in beauty? No that's but a snare,
They're foul enough today, that once were fair.
What is't in flow'ring youth, or manly age?
The first is prone to vice, the last to rage.
Where is it then, in wisdom, learning, arts?
Sure if on earth, it must be in those parts;
Yet these the wisest man of men did find
But vanity, vexation of the mind.
And he that know the most doth still bemoan
He knows not all that here is to be known.
What is it then? To do as stoics tell,
Nor laugh, nor weep, let things go ill or well?
Such stoics are but stocks, such teaching vain,
While man is man, he shall have ease or pain.
If not in honor, beauty, age, nor treasure,
Nor yet in learning, wisdom, youth, nor pleasure,
Where shall I climb, sound, seek, search, or find
That summum bonum which may stay my mind?
There is a path no vulture's eye hath seen,
Where lion fierce, nor lion's whelps have been,
Which leads unto that living crystal fount,
Who drinks thereof, the world doth naught account.
The depth and sea have said " 'tis not in me,"
With pearl and gold it shall not valued be.
For sapphire, onyx, topaz who would change;
It's hid from eyes of men, they count it strange.
Death and destruction the fame hath heard,
But where and what it is, from heaven's declared;
It brings to honor which shall ne'er decay,
It stores with wealth which time can't wear away.
It yieldeth pleasures far beyond conceit,
And truly beautifies without deceit.
Nor strength, nor wisdom, nor fresh youth shall fade,
Nor death shall see, but are immortal made.
This pearl of price, this tree of life, this spring,
Who is possessed of shall reign a king.
Nor change of state nor cares shall ever see,
But wear his crown unto eternity.
This satiates the soul, this stays the mind,
And all the rest, but vanity we find.
poem by Anne Bradstreet
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The Meal And Cruse Of Oil
By the poor widow's oil and meal
Elijah was sustained;
Though small the stock it lasted well,
For God the store maintained.
It seemed as if from day to day,
They were to eat and die;
But still, though in a secret way,
He sent a fresh supply.
Thus to his poor he still will give
Just for the present hour;
But for tomorrow they must live
Upon his word and power.
No barn or storehouse they possess
On which they can depend;
Yet have no cause to fear distress,
For Jesus is their friend.
Then let not doubts your mind assail,
Remember, God has said,
The cruse and barrel shall not fail,
My people shall be fed.
And thus though faint it often seems,
He keeps their grace alive;
Supplied by his refreshing streams,
Their dying hopes revive.
Though in ourselves we have no stock,
The Lord is nigh to save;
His door flies open when we knock,
And 'tis but ask and have.
poem by John Newton
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Today is just another day
Today is just another day
Of highs and lows
When the winds blow and the waters flow
Today is just another day
A day to make amends and new friends
For there will come a time it will all end
Today is just another day
We eat and go to work
Some seat and wait for luck
Others cheat giving the sweet talk
Today is just another day
Where we must live for tomorrow
Or give in to everlasting sorrow
Today is just another day
We breathe in the same air
Trying to invent new ideas
Exhibiting passionate care or fear
Today is just another day
While some of us delight in joy
Others will find a way to deploy
Tools to destroy the moments we enjoy
Today is no different from yesterday
Technology the only change in the game
The people are still the same
Looking for one to take on the blame
Always worshipping those with a name
Broken hearts and love keep alive the dying flame
Today is just another day
It will fade away
Quickly into yesterday
Tomorrow then gladly will become today!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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One Day at a Time
We need to take our eyes off us, and in the Lord put our trust,
Our vision can be small indeed, focusing just on present need.
But, the Lord who’s over all, takes care of needs big and small,
As He has and He always will, care for His own, so just be still.
The Lord truly does so much more, for all of those He cares for,
Far beyond what we can see, as He shepherds them to Eternity.
Guiding them along every path, this as they avoid unseen wrath,
And other problems avoided by, God, when we don’t know why.
We’ve been told to live for today, leaning on God along the way,
Not looking at problems tomorrow, only to fill hearts with sorrow,
For believers, it is God’s design, for us to live one day at a time,
And if you try it, you shall find, God will give you peace of mind.
What is to be is know by God, as He leads us with staff and rod,
Guiding His own on paths unknown, as He leads us safely home.
Today we are told not to borrow, any cares at all from tomorrow,
As today alone will have enough, of all those cares we speak of.
In the Lord we should always rest, no matter what the trial or test,
On any path that you need to take, you, the Lord will not forsake,
But, it’s His own who forsake Him, when worry leads cares to sin,
So, be still and rest in Christ, and God’s Peace, shall fill your life.
(Copyright ©09/2008)
I see today
Today is such a beautiful day
Well actually it’s hot and humid
But hey it here right now for me to enjoy or crib
Don’t know what tomorrow will bring or will it be here or not
This, today, this is mine and is all I have got
So all my hopes, aspirations, dreams, fight’s, grudges,
Smiles and frowns will have to adjust
And give each other space for I am going to live it fully
As there will never be a today like today
This day is full of promises although I don’t know
What is in store the next second?
Past may seem blissful and tomorrow may seem a better day
But believe me, today- it’s a force to be reckoned with
I will be ready, for every here and now and shake off the dust
For if I don’t do it now, some promises will die or rust
No, today is a great opportunity which I can’t let go
Today- I owe it to you to stand up and speak my mind
To not let myself get lost in daily grind
Every second is a portal to a new world of new possibilities and hopes
How can I not be this charged and learn the ropes
Hello today, thanks for being in my life
Am going to march in your honour to the playing drums and fife
poem by Soma Mukherjee
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Locked Inside Her Pain
Living day to day in severe pain,
overwhelming is her pain today,
can't walk too good, for her legs hurt so.
Kind and gentle she is, through all of her pain,
even on her worst days, she always has a smile
and a kind word for those who may pass by her way.
Day after day I watch her in pain
and pray there was something I could do.
Intensely wanting to just be able to take all her pain away,
nothing I can do to help her with it.
Sweet and loving she is, her pain is sometimes unbearable.
Intense pain is what she lives with everyday.
Doctors won't give her anything for fear she may be allergic.
Each and everyday her pain becomes worse.
Hating myself because there is nothing I can do to help her,
hoping that someday they will find a cure for Fibromyalgia and tendontis,
realizing that she may never ever be pain free.
Patiently, she tries to do the things she used to do
but, once again her pain stops her from doing them.
Inside her pain she cries, for relief of her pain or maybe a cure
never getting the relief she so deserves, or wants.
Dear Lord, please take my mom's pain away,
so she will no longer be locked inside her pain
and give her the life she used to know back,
so that she can live her life a normal person without pain,
and God, please be with her every day and night
and keep her safe and warm.
poem by Melissia Ann Senter
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Psalm 146
Praise to God for his goodness and truth.
Praise ye the Lord, my heart shall join
In work so pleasant, so divine;
Now, while the flesh is mine abode,
And when my soul ascends to God.
Praise shall employ my noblest powers,
While immortality endures;
My days of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life, and thought, and being last.
Why should I make a man my trust?
Princes must die and turn to dust;
Their breath departs, their pomp, and power,
And thoughts, all vanish in an hour.
Happy the man whose hopes rely
On Isr'el's God; he made the sky,
And earth, and seas, with all their train,
And none shall find his promise vain.
His truth for ever stands secure;
He saves th' oppressed, he feeds the poor;
He sends the lab'ring conscience peace,
And grants the pris'ner sweet release.
The Lord hath eyes to give the blind;
The Lord supports the sinking mind;
He helps the stranger in distress,
The widow and the fatherless.
He loves his saints, he knows them well,
But turns the wicked down to hell:
Thy God, O Zion! ever reigns;
Praise him in everlasting strains.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Dont Fade Away
(coverdale/vandenberg)
As I stand at the crossroad,
I see the sun sinking low...
With my cross of indecision,
I cant tell which way to go...
Now I have seen the seven wonders
And I have sailed the seven seas,
Ive walked and talked with angels,
And danced all night with gypsy queens...
All in all its been a rocky road,
Twists and turns along the way...
But, I still pray for tomorrow,
All my hopes, my dreams
Dont fade away... dont fade away...
I have painted many portraits,
Memories of love and pain,
Though cut down by lifes deceptions
I found the strength to start again...
All in all its been a rocky road,
Twists and turns along the way...
But, I still pray for tomorrow,
All my hopes, my dreams
Dont fade away... dont fade away.
Heaven help a man
Trying to make up his mind,
With the darkness closing in,
I feel Im running out of time...
Shine a light for me,
Help me find the way to go,
And take me where Ive never been before...
And so I stand at the crossroad,
Watching the sun sinking low...
With my cross of indecision,
Trying to find the way to go...
All in all its been a rocky road,
Twists and turns along the way,
But, I still pray for tomorrow
All my hopes, my dreams
Dont fade away...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Metal Beat
Nobody knew me so I bought some time.
An hour or two with a friend of mine.
Somebody lied so I burned their soul.
Somebody screamed and the fire burned cold.
I cure things, sweet young things.
I take the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
I soothe the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
I take the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
Like someone walks on their grave.
I booked a small room in a cheap motel.
Somewhere to hide and a cure to sell.
I call it fashion, Ill make them bleed.
No one to love but a ghost to feed.
I was a puppet pulling my own strings.
I cant believe that I did such things.
I was a shadow but God forgives.
Now Im a priest and jesus lives.
- adlib -
I cure things, sweet young things.
I take the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
I take the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
I take the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
Like someone walks on their grave.
How can I save you if you dont confess?
Kneel down bitch be truly blessed.
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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3 New Babies
CITY
We all came to the CITY
This city of love, joy & pain
We wet ourselves in the RAIN
We hurt ourselves again
We told them we wont CRY! !
We told them of the pain Inside,
Wouldn't lead us to DIE! !
But oh, we lied, we lied 2 them.
2 those who HURT us over & ova again....
For only those who HURT can Heal
Only then can the pain Reveal! !
to free us all, us all.... from the EVIL! !
The evil inside us all
LIFE 2
Sometimes I wonder why! ! Why I was
Chosen 2 LIVE this life! !
to hurt and cry and scream and pray,
to love & hate & then Betray! !
for some, it comes 2 easy@ hand, ,
For some, it leaves before we plan! !
For Life is an unwritten RULE......
& over it we all try 2 RULE! !
but he who thought so was a FOOL! !
a fool until his DYING DAY! !
For over life, he might RULE....
But DEATH...................it rules us all! ! ! ! !
WAY
Someday we all find a WAY! !
a WAY to find our own sweet WAY! !
Just Wipe the tears that I have cried! !
Just say the things that I have tried! !
For once we find a way,
a person 2 LOVE, a place 2 stay! !
Then life is oh but a sweet treat
a dream................that one might just meet
For when the RIGHT one comes along,
My heart breaks into a Song! !
A song so long it never ends,
A hurt so hard it never mends,
For that, my Dear.....................is the way,
the WAY 2 WIN Ma heart! ! !
poem by Kaavyaa Kriday
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The Gourd
As once for Jonah, so the Lord
To soothe and cheer my mournful hours,
Prepared for me a pleasing gourd,
Cool was its shade, and sweet its flow'rs.
To prize his gift was surely right;
But through the folly of my heart,
It hid the Giver from my sight,
And soon my joy was changed to smart.
While I admired its beauteous form,
Its pleasant shade and graceful fruit;
The Lord, displeased, sent forth a worm,
Unseen, to prey upon the root.
I trembled when I saw it fade,
But guilt restrained the murm'ring word;
My folly I confessed, and prayed,
Forgive my sin, and spare my gourd.
His wondrous love can ne'er be told,
He heard me and relieved my pain;
His word the threat'ning worm controlled,
And bid my gourd revive again.
Now, Lord, my gourd is mine no more,
'Tis thine, who only couldst it raise;
The idol of my heart before,
Henceforth shall flourish to thy praise.
poem by John Newton
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The Worldling
My barns are full, my stores increase,
And now, for many years,
Soul, eat and drink, and take thine ease,
Secure from wants and fears.
Thus while a worldling boasted once,
As many now presume;
He heard the Lord himself pronounce
His sudden, aweful doom.
This night, vain fool, thy soul must pass
Into a world unknown;
And who shall then the stores possess
Which thou hast called thine own.
Thus blinded mortals fondly scheme
For happiness below;
Till death disturb the pleasing dream,
And they awake to woe.
Ah! who can speak the vast dismay
That fills the sinner's mind;
When torn, by death's strong hand, away,
He leaves his all behind.
Wretches, who cleave to earthly things,
But are not rich to God;
Their dying hour is full of stings,
And hell their dark abode.
Dear Saviour, make us timely wise,
Thy gospel to attend;
That we may live above the skies,
When this poor life shall end.
poem by John Newton
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If the Wealth...
If the wealth is ill gotten
Then good use later on can be forgotten
It will take our hear apparent to down fall
Create distrust, fight and impregnable wall
This is how the wealth takes its toll
Hard earned money may easily roll
Change hands for charity, donation and good use
Others may invite jealousy, deception and misuse
Wealth is main root for all evils
Not all may have security or good will
The family members may want your early departure
As they may be finding a chance for good future
Good sense may only prevail
When you are in control and not fail
Keep them to united fold and trust
Else they may fall apart and mistrust
What can be done with so much wealth?
If that deteriorate your complete health
If that can’t guarantee you peace and happiness
Why on earth it can be longed for and stressed?
I tried to find an easy answer
But answered by only some or fewer of them
It placed me at great worry
I felt really in pain and sorry
What it did me in whole life?
When it was to prove as cutting knife
The family was quarreling among for spoils
I was helpless and there was no use to boil
I wish it not to happen to anybody
The wealth must be used for help to somebody
Its constrained use may warrant good result
But at least it save you from embarrassment and insult
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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‘Live and Let Live! ’
‘Live and let live’ – all just say;
But, do the opposite things everyday;
‘Live and let live ‘– is the one and only way,
By which all can live happily today.
This earth is one and human race is one;
Same problems confront all under the sun;
There are so many things that stay undone;
‘Few things are wrought by money or by gun! ’
The division of lands is just Nature’s;
The air we breathe belongs to all creatures;
It cannot be confined to borders made;
When rain is brought by God, all borders fade.
No nation or its peoples have all things;
This world belongs to paupers and too, kings;
Umpteen problems to all, a lifetime brings;
The sky is same for ‘winged’ and without wings!
Why fight o’er borders that are inconstant?
Why spend so lavishly on nuclear arms?
Why try to make the poorer people slaves?
Why aim for overly-produce from farms?
The basic needs of human race are same;
Denying them to brethren is a shame;
Let love and brotherhood remain our aim;
‘To dust we go because from dust we came! ’
A few rich persons hold most earth’s treasures;
Whatev’r we give, we’ll get in like measures;
There are limits for all earthly pleasures;
The love of God on earth made all creatures!
Let rules be such that all can follow them;
Let life be treated sacred everywhere;
Let kindness fill the hearts of world’s leaders;
‘No war can bring a lasting peace on earth.’
‘Live and let live’ –the best thing all can do;
Let love and not fear, all citizens woo;
Our span of life on earth is short and true;
Our love to God and man, let’s all renew!
The earth can be a paradise as well;
Our faulty deeds keep earth almost like hell;
Our destiny is same – history does tell;
Why human toil should be our own death-knell?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-9-2008
poem by John Celes
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Vanity Of The Creature Sanctified
Honey though the bee prepares,
An envenomed sting he wears;
Piercing thorns a guard compose
Round the fragrant blooming rose.
Where we think to find a sweet,
Oft a painful sting we meet:
When the rose invites our eye,
We forget the thorn is nigh.
Why are thus our hopes beguiled?
Why are all our pleasures spoiled?
Why do agony and woe
From our choicest comforts grow?
Sin has been the cause of all!
'Twas not thus before the fall:
What but pain, and thorn, and sting,
From the root of sin can spring?
Now with every good we find
Vanity and grief entwined;
What we feel, or what we fear,
All our joys embitter here.
Yet, through the Redeemer's love,
These afflictions blessings prove;
He the wounding stings and thorns,
Into healing med'cines turns.
From the earth our hearts they wean,
Teach us on his arm to lean;
Urge us to a throne of grace,
Make us seek a resting place.
In the mansions of our King
Sweets abound without a sting;
Thornless there the roses blow,
And the joys unmingled flow.
poem by John Newton
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Finding Loves Fool
Finding loves fool
loves fool you may be
but I stand in front of thee
a light covered in the shroud of lies
Where sorrow will not die
In the shroud of lies
will I be
So there look for me
If the lies should make you sorrow
Do not cry in fear of tomorrow
For I will find thee before
That marrow
And at that time
There will be no sorrow
Should your eyes still cry
then I will find you in the
in the shroud of lies
Twice as fast as
You cry
Will I fly to your side
may I wipe away the tears
Of pain and sorrow
and your fears
For now and tomorrow
Then from your tears will I form
A drink of love
And sorrow torn
then may I show you the light
Of tomorrow
Along with it the army of sorrow
And then in fight
I shall give you no sorrow
For none shall pass me
But die in the birth of tomorrow
If in case should I die
Then sprout your wings
And fly
Beyond the sight of this marrow
Then rise above
The next army of sorrow
Find me now
Without sorrow
Find me now in
Heavens tomorrow
Then see the light oh fool of love
See the light of heaven above
Then there will be no shroud of lies
And together are wings shall fly
over mountains and beyond the sea
to a place were we can both be
Without the pain and sorrow
But at the birth
Of a new tomorrow
A tomorrow were a new earth brings
The life of another
Child with wings
With these wing he shall soar
And for loves fool
The search
Begins once more
poem by Cody Byrne
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The Day Before Yesterday
The day before yesterday
my heart was filled with joy.
I had everything to live for,
nothing to destroy
my peace, my tranquility
because I had you.
The day before yesterday
contentment filled my days.
The thought that it could end?
Oh how life betrays
our trust, our confidence.
Now what do I do?
There is no chance for happiness
if you are not here.
All the things you were to me,
everything so dear,
my hopes, my desires
went away with you.
If I could stop the pendulum
and make the world stand still
I'd erase the day before yesterday
and never let it kill
my joy and my hopes
for that's when I had you.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Consolations in Bereavement
Death was full urgent with thee, Sister dear,
And startling in his speed;—
Brief pain, then languor till thy end came near—
Such was the path decreed,
The hurried road
To lead thy soul from earth to thine own God's
abode.
Death wrought with thee, sweet maid, impatiently:—
Yet merciful the haste
That baffles sickness;—dearest, thou didst die,
Thou wast not made to taste
Death's bitterness,
Decline's slow-wasting charm, or fever's fierce
distress.
Death came unheralded:—but it was well;
For so thy Saviour bore
Kind witness, thou wast meet at once to dwell
On His eternal shore;
All warning spared,
For none He gives where hearts are for prompt change
prepared.
Death wrought in mystery; both complaint and cure
To human skill unknown:—
God put aside all means, to make us sure
It was His deed alone;
Lest we should lay
Reproach on our poor selves, that thou wast caught
away.
Death urged as scant of time:—lest, Sister dear,
We many a lingering day
Had sicken'd with alternate hope and fear,
The ague of delay;
Watching each spark
Of promise quench'd in turn, till all our sky was
dark.
Death came and went:—that so thy image might
Our yearning hearts possess,
Associate with all pleasant thoughts and bright,
With youth and loveliness;
Sorrow can claim,
Mary, nor lot nor part in thy soft soothing name.
Joy of sad hearts, and light of downcast eyes!
Dearest thou art enshrined
In all thy fragrance in our memories;
For we must ever find
Bare thought of thee
Freshen this weary life, while weary life shall be.
poem by John Henry Newman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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