Vanitas Vanitatum
All the flowers of the spring
Meet to perfume our burying;
These have but their growing prime,
And man does flourish but his time:
Survey our progress from our birth;
We are set, we grow, we turn to earth.
Courts adieu, and all delights,
All bewitching appetites!
Sweetest breath and clearest eye,
Like perfumes, go out and die;
And consequently this is done
As shadows wait upon the sun.
Vain ambition of kings
Who seek by trophies and dead things
To leave a living name behind,
And weave but nets to catch the wind.
poem by John Webster
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A Contemplation upon Flowers
BRAVE flowers--that I could gallant it like you,
And be as little vain!
You come abroad, and make a harmless show,
And to your beds of earth again.
You are not proud: you know your birth:
For your embroider'd garments are from earth.
You do obey your months and times, but I
Would have it ever Spring:
My fate would know no Winter, never die,
Nor think of such a thing.
O that I could my bed of earth but view
And smile, and look as cheerfully as you!
O teach me to see Death and not to fear,
But rather to take truce!
How often have I seen you at a bier,
And there look fresh and spruce!
You fragrant flowers! then teach me, that my breath
Like yours may sweeten and perfume my death.
poem by Henry King
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Catch Me Up
Hello, hello, I'm glad to see you
Now we'll only stop to say goodbye
We'll go, we'll go just where we want to
We won't let the others bleed us dry
'Cause I am but a fool for you, that's right
And I got nothing to lose that I'd choose tonight
Come on, come on we should be leaving
But I let another one go by
Oh no, oh no, I couldn't leave you
Though I know they'd like to make me try
'Cause I shot down the moon for you, that's right
'Cause I got something to prove to you tonight
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up
You know, you know I want to please you
And now's the time to let me try
Will you, will you do as I do?
Will you wait for me it's do or die?
'Cause I don't ever wanna see you cry
Yeah, I will never leave you high and dry
I, yeah, I...
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me up, yeah
I will always wait for you to catch me
I will always wait for you to catch me
I will always wait for you to catch me
I will always wait for you to catch me
song performed by by Gomez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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April
April, pride of woodland ways,
Of glad days,
April, bringing hope of prime,
To the young flowers that beneath
Their bud sheath
Are guarded in their tender time;
April, pride of fields that be
Green and free,
That in fashion glad and gay,
Stud with flowers red and blue,
Every hue,
Their jewelled spring array;
April, pride of murmuring
Winds of spring,
That beneath the winnowed air,
Trap with subtle nets and sweet
Flora’s feet,
Flora’s feet, the fleet and fair;
April, by thy hand caressed,
From her breast
Nature scatters everywhere
Handfuls of all sweet perfumes,
Buds and blooms,
Making faint the earth and air.
April, joy of the green hours,
Clothes with flowers
Over all her locks of gold
My sweet Lady; and her breast
With the blest
Birds of summer manifold.
April, with thy gracious wiles,
Like the smiles,
Smiles of Venus; and thy breath
Like her breath, the Gods’ delight,
(From their height
They take the happy air beneath)
It is thou that, of thy grace,
From their place
In the far-oft isles dost bring
Swallows over earth and sea,
Glad to be
Messengers of thee, and Spring.
Daffodil and eglantine,
And woodbine,
Lily, violet, and rose
Plentiful in April fair,
To the air,
Their pretty petals do unclose.
Nightingales ye now may hear,
Piercing clear,
Singing in the deepest shade;
Many and many a babbled note
Chime and float,
Woodland music through the glade.
April, all to welcome thee,
Spring sets free
Ancient flames, and with low breath
Wakes the ashes grey and old
That the cold
Chilled within our hearts to death.
Thou beholdest in the warm
Hours, the swarm
Of the thievish bees, that flies
Evermore from bloom to bloom
For perfume,
Hid away in tiny thighs.
Her cool shadows May can boast,
Fruits almost
Ripe, and gifts of fertile dew,
Manna-sweet and honey-sweet,
That complete
Her flower garland fresh and new.
Nay, but I will give my praise,
To these days,
Named with the glad name of Her
That from out the foam o’ the sea
Came to be
Sudden light on earth and air.
poem by Remy Belleau
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Symbolic Spring
Spring is like birth.
You finally come onto the Earth.
You bloom and grow like flowers.
As birth can go on for hours.
The color of you is red.
Like the roses in a rose bed.
Your first breath is a scream of doom.
Not everything has hit full bloom.
poem by Sammi Schneider
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So Gently We Go
Fill my head with
Your nonsense
You can breathe my breath
Till I turn red
Close your eyes
Try to follow me
If you close your eyes
You can become me
You can park your shoes
On my front step
Then gently walk barefoot
Through my sunken chest
I'll shade my eyes from
The burning sun
But feel confident
'Cause we're as bold
As love... and laughter
Wake me up when
The day is late
so I can watch the sunset
and go back to bed
And dream so real
A fantastic stage
Psychodramatic means to
Uncertain ends
I'll scare you blind with
My confidence
As cool as Jesus
And his twelve best friends
The reason we can
Do these things is that
The Earth has told
Of an outrageous spring...
Remembered
We'll meet for breakfast
In the sun room
The feeling in my soul
As sweet as good perfume
Leave your sex
At the door... come in
There's ecstasy for all
No need to leave your name
Pirouettes
We will make in game
On the ceiling
Movies of our lives will play
The reason we can
Do these things is that
Our minds are clouded
And we can't see
Straight
Maybe I've played
My part
But it's a players
Art
Me and my friends
We were just living... playing
I've heard the sound
That silence makes
And I realize the world
Can break
From the inside out
Or outside in
On a breath of wind
song performed by by I Mother Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At Crown Hill
Leave him here in the fresh
greening grasses and trees
And the symbols of love, and the solace of these-
The saintly white lilies and blossoms he keeps
In endless caress as
he breathlessly sleeps.
The tears of our eyes wrong the scene of his rest,
For the sky's at its clearest-the sun's at its best-
The earth at its greenest- its wild bud and bloom
At its sweetest-and sweetest its honey'd perfume.
Home! Home!-Leave him here in his lordly estate,
And with never a tear as we turn from the gate!
Turn back to the home that will know him no more,-
The vines at the window-the sun through the door,-
Nor sound of his voice, nor the light of his face!...
But the birds will sing on, and the rose, in his place,
Will tenderly smile til we daringly feign
He is home with us still, though the tremulous rain
Of our tears reappear, and again all is bloom,
And all prayerless we sob in the long-darkened room.
Heaven portions it thus-the old mystery dim,-
It is midnight to us-it is morning to him
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Hopes
A PRINCESS, sleeping in enchanted bowers,
Earth springs to waking at Spring's voice and kiss,
And after winter's cold, unlovely hours,
Laughs out to find how beautiful she is.
Spring flings a song across the field and fold,
And sighs it through the glad wood's tangled ways;
And million, million tales of love are told,
And dreams are dreamed of undivided days.
In hollows where so late but dead leaves lay,
Through the dead leaves the primroses push up;
And wind-flowers fleck the copse, and fields are gay
With daisies and the budding buttercup.
So in our hearts, though thick the dead leaves lie
Of grief--heaped up by winds of old despair--
May there not be a spring-time by-and-by,
When flowers of joy shall blossom even there?
So long has Winter held our hearts in his,
We dare not dream of Spring and all her flowers?
Ah! the undreamed-of happiness it is
That comes--the dreamed-of joy is never ours!
When late the trees were brown and hedges bare,
And keen east wind cut sharp as human pain,
Did the Earth guess how soon she would be fair
With Spring's dear dainty loveliness again?
We do not guess of joy, but hope alone--
Like life's mysterious force that thrills the earth--
Lives in our souls, unrecognised, unknown,
Till time shall bring unhoped-for joy to birth.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Psalm 39 part 2
v.4-7
C. M.
The vanity of man as mortal.
Teach me the measure of my days,
Thou Maker of my frame;
I would survey life's narrow space,
And learn how frail I am.
A span is all that we can boast,
An inch or two of time;
Man is but vanity and dust
In all his flower and prime.
See the vain race of mortals move
Like shadows o'er the plain;
They rage and strive, desire and love,
But all the noise is vain.
Some walk in honor's gaudy show,
Some dig for golden ore;
They toil for heirs, they know not who,
And straight are seen no more.
What should I wish or wait for, then,
From creatures earth and dust?
They make our expectations vain,
And disappoint our trust.
Now I forbid my carnal hope,
My fond desires recall;
I give my mortal interest up,
And make my God my all.
poem by Isaac Watts
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It is Spring Time
It is Spring Time
It is spring time.
I can smell it in the air.
I can smell the flowers.
I can smell the grass.
I can touch the grass.
I can touch and taste the vegetable growing in the garden.
The weather is changing.
The weather is warming up.
The trees are blossoming.
The flowers are blossoming.
It is spring time.
Easter has passed.
Beltane has passed.
Spring and May is here.
This is the time to tend to your garden and planted some flowers.
Some people pray to God to protect their garden.
Some people pray to Mother Nature for protect.
I do both and I thank God for this planet.
It is Spring Time.
The animals and bugs come out to play.
The frogs jump around the pond.
The wildflower comes out.
The sky is clean and blue.
The sun is shining.
The horses are running free.
The sunflowers are growing.
When seasons the earth also changes it is a beautiful way.
Nature is every where.
It is spring time.
There is rain and storm.
The trees have leaves and it arms.
The trees are ancient.
An apple falls down from the trees.
This is what thinks spring time is for me.
Spring time is beautiful.
Spring time is when nature is beautiful.
It is spring time.
Spring time is here.
The rabbits come out, and hop round.
The bees are collection honey for us.
The tulips are blossoming.
The roses are blossoming, and looking so beautiful.
The lavender is purple and bright.
Spring time is a time to celebrate.
Spring time is a time to clean our environment.
It is spring time.
Spring time is a time when rain falls.
Spring time is the time when the seasons changes.
Spring time is when the plants grow.
Spring time is my favorite season.
Spring time is the time to be happy.
It is spring time.
poem by Crystal Chown
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Wake For Young Souls
Today I found my soul
I felt it die inside of me yeah
So I turn to you
Life is like we never know
I have your face in a photo in high school
And you were alive
But thats all I had
And I cant remember who I was myself then
And it doesnt help
Still I look to you as a friend
To tell me
Who we are now, who we are
Its who we are now, who we are
Where does time go now on a wake for young souls
You tell me
Its who we are now, who we are
Where does time go now on a wake for young souls
Another lullaby go sing oh ooh oh ooh oh ooh
Well the wind that blows
Its blowing colder
And the child that grows
Shes growing older
And the friends we know
Theyll turn a shoulder
But the friends we know
Theyre growing colder so
Its who we are now, who we are
Its who we are now, who we are
Where does time go now on a wake for young souls
You tell me, who we are now, who we are
Its who we are now, who we are
Whoa no now on a wake for young souls
Na na na na na na...
Cycle of the moon brings blood to the woman
And blood of the woman brings birth of a child
The child grow up
Keep forgetting something
Birth of a child comes someplace while youll
Living great days with the shade of the wind
Unbodied unsouled unheard unseen
On the day of the dead like a song in my head
Hear you speak to me in the shape of a dress say
Treat me natural like a wind that blows
Follow the direction no matter where it goes
So it shall be the earth and the sea
Let the truth blow like a hurricane through me
Oh ooh oh ooh oh ooh oooh...
If Ive been cold, if Ive spoken in anger
Two have been born
Forgive me
No I dont see your mother
Not like before
Though she hasnt forgotten
She doesnt like to be reminded anymore
Then he got married
It didnt come without tears
But the day you died I had laughter for these years
So its who we are now, who we are
Its who we are now, who we are
Where does time go now on a wake for young souls now
Its who we are now, who we are
Its who we are now, who we are
Whoa no now on a wake for young souls
All the things we know
Theyre gonna fall away from me yeah
Like a grain of sand, it slips through a good friends hand
song performed by by Third Eye Blind
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sooner Or Later
Yes, in time, sooner or later, all will know there’s nothing greater,
Nothing at all upon this earth, that offers men such eternal worth,
No possession, yet know to man, can match God’s Eternal Plan,
The Father’s Offer of Eternal Life, through His Son, Jesus Christ.
That life begins when you believe, and Christ’s Spirit you receive,
His Spirit to lead us in all things, as we live for the King of kings,
While He fills us with a peace, that during our trials will not cease,
With a promise He’ll never leave, when His Truth you truly receive.
Soon may be that time for some, that they truly meet God’s Son,
As their eyes are opened wide, to His Truth, they so long denied,
Or maybe they just never heard, The Gospel right from His Word,
But when ready, you can be sure, God’s Spirit will open the door.
For some that time may be later, as they seek something greater,
Some may think Heaven’s on earth, with no need for a New Birth,
Maybe they’re waiting for proof, but, will only see strong reproof,
Whatever is causing you to wait, to continue, it could be too late.
All though, shall meet their Creator, as their Judge or their Savior.
During the present Age of Grace, all men can truly seek His face,
The choice is all yours to make, as God you can trust or forsake,
God made His choice at Calvary, to give us a choice for Eternity.
Many will make God their choice, and then their hearts will rejoice,
Some will decide not to believe, looking back later only to grieve,
As this Age comes to a close, all must deal with what they chose,
All men shall see their Creator; may it be for you, sooner not later.
(Copyright ©12/2008)
To Miss---,
{On her giving the author a gold and silk
net-work purse of her own weaving}.
Though gold and silk their charms unite
To make thy curious web delight,
In vain the varied work would shine,
If wrought by any hand but thine;
Thy hand that knows the subtler art,
To weave those nets that catch the heart.
Spread out by me the roving coin,
Thy nets may catch, but not confine;
Nor can I hope thy silken chain
The glittering vagrants shall restrain.
Why, Stella, was it then decreed
The heart once caught should ne'er be freed.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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These Things Take Time
My eyes have seen the glory of the sacred wunderkind
You took me behind a dis-used railway line
And said "i know a place where we can go
Where we are not known"
And you gave me something that i won't forget too soon
But i can't believe you'd ever care
And this is why you will never care
These things take time
I know that i'm
The most inept
That ever stepped
I'm spellbound, but a woman divides
And the hills are alive with celibate cries
But you know where you came from, you know where
You're going and you know where you belong
You said i was ill, and you were not wrong
But i can't believe you'd ever care
And this is why you will never care
These things take time
I know that i'm
The most inept
That ever stepped
Oh, the alcoholic afternoons
When we sat in your room
They meant more to me
Than any, than any living thing on earth
They had more worth
Than any living thing on earth
On earth, on earth, oh ...
Vivid and in your prime
You will leave me behind
You will leave me behind
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poet's Delay
IN vain I see the morning rise,
In vain observe the western blaze,
Who idly look to other skies,
Expecting life by other ways.
Amidst such boundless wealth without,
I only still am poor within,
The birds have sung their summer out,
But still my spring does not begin.
Shall I then wait the autumn wind,
Compelled to seek a milder day,
And leave no curious nest behind,
No woods still echoing to my lay?
poem by Henry David Thoreau
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Objectified
All beautiful things meet their demise
Flowers in bloom surely will die
Frozen are the wings of the dead butterfly
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Clouds of gray spoil the light of the skies
The ocean must fall in order to rise
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
I knew I was doomed when you first said, “Hi.”
Two ships in the night, we were bound to collide
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Four months can pass in the blink of an eye
We lose ourselves without having to try
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
The simplest words become hard to define
You can’t see the truth when you cover your eyes
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Your pay the price to take this ride
Slowly, you find that you’re living a lie
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Pictures of us will fade over time
We become strangers in a world so wide
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
You’ll keep on searching for what you won’t find
You’ll lose your faith while I lose my mind
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Sometimes your morals get left behind
It will be too late when you realize
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
poem by Vaida Marea
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To The One Of Fictive Music
Sister and mother and diviner love,
And of the sisterhood of the living dead
Most near, most clear, and of the clearest bloom,
And of the fragrant mothers the most dear
And queen, and of diviner love the day
And flame and summer and sweet fire, no thread
Of cloudy silver sprinkles in your gown
Its venom of renown, and on your head
No crown is simpler than the simple hair.
Now, of the music summoned by the birth
That separates us from the wind and sea,
Yet leaves us in them, until earth becomes,
By being so much of the things we are,
Gross effigy and simulacrum, none
Gives motion to perfection more serene
Than yours, out of our own imperfections wrought,
Most rare, or ever of more kindred air
In the laborious weaving that you wear.
For so retentive of themselves are men
That music is intensest which proclaims
The near, the clear, and vaunts the clearest bloom,
And of all the vigils musing the obscure,
That apprehends the most which sees and names,
As in your name, an image that is sure,
Among the arrant spices of the sun,
O bough and bush and scented vine, in whom
We give ourselves our likest issuance.
Yet not too like, yet not so like to be
Too near, too clear, saving a little to endow
Our feigning with the strange unlike, whence springs
The difference that heavenly pity brings.
For this, musician, in your girdle fixed
Bear other perfumes. On your pale head wear
A band entwining, set with fatal stones.
Unreal, give back to us what once you gave:
The imagination that we spurned and crave.
Submitted by Adriana C
poem by Wallace Stevens
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The Bourne
Underneath the growing grass,
Underneath the living flowers,
Deeper than the sound of showers:
There we shall not count the hours
By the shadows as they pass.
Youth and health will be but vain,
Beauty reckoned of no worth:
There a very little girth
Can hold round what once the earth
Seemed too narrow to contain.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Olney Hymn 53: My Soul Thirsteth For God
I thirst, but not as once I did,
The vain delights of earth to share;
Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
That I should seek my pleasures there.
It was the sight of Thy dear cross
First wean'd my soul from earthly things;
And taught me to esteem as dross
The mirth of fools and pomp of kings.
I want that grace that springs from Thee,
That quickens all things where it flows,
And makes a wretched thorn like me
Bloom as the myrtle, or the rose.
Dear fountain of delight unknown!
No longer sink below the brim;
But overflow, and pour me down
A living and life-giving stream!
For sure of all the plants that share
The notice of thy Father's eye,
None proves less grateful to His care,
Or yields him meaner fruit than I.
poem by William Cowper
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My Soul Thirsteth for God
I thirst, but not as once I did,
The vain delights of earth to share;
Thy wounds, Emmanuel, all forbid
That I should seek my pleasures there.
It was the sight of Thy dear cross
First wean'd my soul from earthly things;
And taught me to esteem as dross
The mirth of fools and pomp of kings.
I want that grace that springs from Thee,
That quickens all things where it flows,
And makes a wretched thorn like me
Bloom as the myrtle, or the rose.
Dear fountain of delight unknown!
No longer sink below the brim;
But overflow, and pour me down
A living and life-giving stream!
For sure of all the plants that share
The notice of thy Father's eye,
None proves less grateful to His care,
Or yields him meaner fruit than I.
poem by William Cowper
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Maybe Tomorrow
Maybe tomorrow and I will see, if I have time to ponder on Eternity.
For I have no time to contemplate, that is something that can wait.
I have many things to do today, and I have no time along the way.
Eternity is not important my friend, it’s a long time before the end.
It may be short or it may be long, be prepared you won’t go wrong.
For everyone will go in time, your departure is different than mine.
Some counting on tomorrow, will leave this earth in much sorrow.
While those prepared to depart, will leave earth with a joyful heart.
There are men who can’t conceive, in the afterlife that we believe.
They just can not comprehend, that things continue after they end,
After they end, here on the earth; temporal home of a natural birth.
For after your body ceases to be, the soul continues on for eternity.
In your own heart you can prepare, to meet The Lord up in the air.
There are men who’ll have no part, of letting Christ into their heart.
Even if you’re just not sure, you my friend, will still meet The Lord.
For it is destined for all my friend, to face His Judgment in the end.
As you live your earthly life, what are you doing about Jesus Christ?
When all here is said and done, are you ready to meet God’s Son?
That is when the world shall see, that ahead for all men is Eternity.
But for you to have Eternal Life, today you must accept Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©10/2005)