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Stella's Birthday March 13, 1727

This day, whate'er the Fates decree,
Shall still be kept with joy by me:
This day then let us not be told,
That you are sick, and I grown old;
Nor think on our approaching ills,
And talk of spectacles and pills.
To-morrow will be time enough
To hear such mortifying stuff.
Yet, since from reason may be brought
A better and more pleasing thought,
Which can, in spite of all decays,
Support a few remaining days:
From not the gravest of divines
Accept for once some serious lines.

Although we now can form no more
Long schemes of life, as heretofore;
Yet you, while time is running fast,
Can look with joy on what is past.

Were future happiness and pain
A mere contrivance of the brain,
As atheists argue, to entice
And fit their proselytes for vice;
(The only comfort they propose,
To have companions in their woes;)
Grant this the case; yet sure 'tis hard
That virtue, styl'd its own reward,
And by all sages understood
To be the chief of human good,
Should, acting, die, nor leave behind
Some lasting pleasure in the mind;
Which by remembrance will assuage
Grief, sickness, poverty, and age;
And strongly shoot a radiant dart
To shine through life's declining part.

Say, Stella, feel you no content,
Reflecting on a life well spent?
Your skilful hand employ'd to save
Despairing wretches from the grave;
And then supporting with your store
Those whom you dragg'd from death before?
So Providence on mortals waits,
Preserving what it first creates.
Your gen'rous boldness to defend
An innocent and absent friend;
That courage which can make you just
To merit humbled in the dust;
The detestation you express
For vice in all its glitt'ring dress;
That patience under torturing pain,
Where stubborn stoics would complain:
Must these like empty shadows pass,
Or forms reflected from a glass?
Or mere chimæras in the mind,
That fly, and leave no marks behind?
Does not the body thrive and grow
By food of twenty years ago?
And, had it not been still supplied,
It must a thousand times have died.
Then who with reason can maintain
That no effects of food remain?
And is not virtue in mankind
The nutriment that feeds the mind;
Upheld by each good action past,
And still continued by the last?
Then, who with reason can pretend
That all effects of virtue end?

Believe me, Stella, when you show
That true contempt for things below,
Nor prize your life for other ends,
Than merely to oblige your friends;
Your former actions claim their part,
And join to fortify your heart.
For Virtue, in her daily race,
Like Janus, bears a double face;
Looks back with joy where she has gone
And therefore goes with courage on:
She at your sickly couch will wait,
And guide you to a better state.

O then, whatever Heav'n intends,
Take pity on your pitying friends!
Nor let your ills affect your mind,
To fancy they can be unkind.
Me, surely me, you ought to spare,
Who gladly would your suff'rings share;
Or give my scrap of life to you,
And think it far beneath your due;
You, to whose care so oft I owe
That I'm alive to tell you so.

poem by Jonathan Swift
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stella's Birthday March 13, 1727

This day, whate'er the Fates decree,
Shall still be kept with joy by me:
This day then let us not be told,
That you are sick, and I grown old;
Nor think on our approaching ills,
And talk of spectacles and pills.
To-morrow will be time enough
To hear such mortifying stuff.
Yet, since from reason may be brought
A better and more pleasing thought,
Which can, in spite of all decays,
Support a few remaining days:
From not the gravest of divines
Accept for once some serious lines.

Although we now can form no more
Long schemes of life, as heretofore;
Yet you, while time is running fast,
Can look with joy on what is past.

Were future happiness and pain
A mere contrivance of the brain,
As atheists argue, to entice
And fit their proselytes for vice;
(The only comfort they propose,
To have companions in their woes;)
Grant this the case; yet sure 'tis hard
That virtue, styl'd its own reward,
And by all sages understood
To be the chief of human good,
Should, acting, die, nor leave behind
Some lasting pleasure in the mind;
Which by remembrance will assuage
Grief, sickness, poverty, and age;
And strongly shoot a radiant dart
To shine through life's declining part.

Say, Stella, feel you no content,
Reflecting on a life well spent?
Your skilful hand employ'd to save
Despairing wretches from the grave;
And then supporting with your store
Those whom you dragg'd from death before?
So Providence on mortals waits,
Preserving what it first creates.
Your gen'rous boldness to defend
An innocent and absent friend;
That courage which can make you just
To merit humbled in the dust;
The detestation you express
For vice in all its glitt'ring dress;
That patience under torturing pain,
Where stubborn stoics would complain:
Must these like empty shadows pass,
Or forms reflected from a glass?
Or mere chimæras in the mind,
That fly, and leave no marks behind?
Does not the body thrive and grow
By food of twenty years ago?
And, had it not been still supplied,
It must a thousand times have died.
Then who with reason can maintain
That no effects of food remain?
And is not virtue in mankind
The nutriment that feeds the mind;
Upheld by each good action past,
And still continued by the last?
Then, who with reason can pretend
That all effects of virtue end?

Believe me, Stella, when you show
That true contempt for things below,
Nor prize your life for other ends,
Than merely to oblige your friends;
Your former actions claim their part,
And join to fortify your heart.
For Virtue, in her daily race,
Like Janus, bears a double face;
Looks back with joy where she has gone
And therefore goes with courage on:
She at your sickly couch will wait,
And guide you to a better state.

O then, whatever Heav'n intends,
Take pity on your pitying friends!
Nor let your ills affect your mind,
To fancy they can be unkind.
Me, surely me, you ought to spare,
Who gladly would your suff'rings share;
Or give my scrap of life to you,
And think it far beneath your due;
You, to whose care so oft I owe
That I'm alive to tell you so.

poem by Jonathan Swift
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stella's Birthday, March 13, 1726

This day, whate'er the Fates decree,
Shall still be kept with joy by me;
This day, then, let us not be told
That you are sick, and I grown old,
Nor think on our approaching ills,
And talk of spectacles and pills;
To-morrow will be time enough
To hear such mortifying stuff.
Yet, since from reason may be brought
A better and more pleasing thought,
Which can, in spite of all decays,
Support a few remaining days:
From not the gravest of divines
Accept for once some serious lines.
Although we now can form no more
Long schemes of life, as heretofore;
Yet you, while time is running fast,
Can look with joy on what is past.
Were future happiness and pain
A mere contrivance of the brain,
As Atheists argue, to entice,
And fit their proselytes for vice
(The only comfort they propose,
To have companions in their woes).
Grant this the case, yet sure 'tis hard
That virtue, styled its own reward,
And by all sages understood
To be the chief of human good,
Should acting, die, or leave behind
Some lasting pleasure in the mind.
Which by remembrance will assuage
Grief, sickness, poverty, and age;
And strongly shoot a radiant dart,
To shine through life's declining part.
Say, Stella, feel you no content,
Reflecting on a life well spent;
Your skilful hand employed to save
Despairing wretches from the grave;
And then supporting with your store,
Those whom you dragged from death before?
So Providence on mortals waits,
Preserving what it first creates,
You generous boldness to defend
An innocent and absent friend;
That courage which can make you just,
To merit humbled in the dust;
The detestation you express
For vice in all its glittering dress:
That patience under to torturing pain,
Where stubborn stoics would complain.
Must these like empty shadows pass,
Or forms reflected from a glass?
Or mere chimaeras in the mind,
That fly, and leave no marks behind?
Does not the body thrive and grow
By food of twenty years ago?
And, had it not been still supplied,
It must a thousand times have died.
Then, who with reason can maintain
That no effects of food remain?
And, is not virtue in mankind
The nutriment that feeds the mind?
Upheld by each good action past,
And still continued by the last:
Then, who with reason can pretend
That all effects of virtue end?
Believe me, Stella, when you show
That true contempt for things below,
Nor prize your life for other ends
Than merely to oblige your friends,
Your former actions claim their part,
And join to fortify your heart.
For virtue in her daily race,
Like Janus, bears a double face.
Look back with joy where she has gone,
And therefore goes with courage on.
She at your sickly couch will wait,
And guide you to a better state.
O then, whatever heav'n intends,
Take pity on your pitying friends;
Nor let your ills affect your mind,
To fancy they can be unkind;
Me, surely me, you ought to spare,
Who gladly would your sufferings share;
Or give my scrap of life to you,
And think it far beneath your due;
You to whose care so oft I owe
That I'm alive to tell you so.

poem by Jonathan Swift
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Sonnet 52: A Strife Is Grown

A strife is grown between Virtue and Love,
While each pretends that Stella must be his:
Her eyes, her lips, her all, saith Love, do this
Since they do wear his badge, most firmly prove.

But Virtue thus that title doth disprove:
That Stella (oh dear name) that Stella is
That virtuous soul, sure heir of heav'nly bliss,
Not this fair outside, which our hearts doth move;

And therefore, though her beauty and her grace
Be Love's indeed, in Stella's self he may
By no pretense claim any manner place.

Well, Love, since this demur our suit will stay,
Let Virtue have that Stella's self; yet thus
That Virtue but that body grant to us.

poem by Philip Sidney
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From The Ladies Defence

Melissa: I've still rever'd your Order [she is responding to a Parson] as Divine;
And when I see unblemish'd Virtue shine,
When solid Learning, and substantial Sense,
Are joyn'd with unaffected Eloquence;
When Lives and Doctrices of a Piece are made,
And holy Truths with humble Zeal convey'd;
When free from Passion, Bigottry, and Pride,
Not sway'd by Int'rest, nor to Parties ty'd,
Contemning Riches, and abhorring strife,
And shunning all the noisy Pomps of Life,
You live the aweful Wonders of your time,
Without the least Suspicion of a Crime:
I shall with Joy the highest Deference pay,
and heedfully attend to all you say.
From such, Reproofs shall always welcome prove,
As being th' Effects of Piety and Love.
But those from me can challenge no Respect,
Who on us all without just Cause reflect:
Who without Mercy all the Sex decry,
And into open Defamations fly:
Who think us Creatures for Derision made,
And the Creator with his Works upbraid:
What he call'd good, they proudly think not so,
And with their Malice, their Prophaneness show.
'Tis hard we shou'd be by the Men despis'd,
Yet kept from knowing what wou'd make us priz'd:
Debarr'd from Knowledge, banish'd from the Schools,
And with the utmost Industry bred Fools.
Laugh'd out of Reason, jested out of Sense,
And nothing left but Native Innocence:
Then told we are incapable of Wit,
And only for the meanest Drudgeries fit:
Made Slaves to serve their Luxury and Pride,
And with innumerable Hardships try'd,
'Till Pitying Heav'n release us from our Pain,
Kind Heav'n to whom alone we dare complain.
Th' ill-natur'd World will no Compassion show;
Such as are wretched, it wou'd still have so:
It gratifies its Envy and its Spight;
The most in others Miseries take Delight.
While we are present they some Pity spare,
And feast us on a thin Repast of Air:
Look Grave and Sigh, when we our Wrongs relate,
An in a Compliment accuse our Fate:
Blame those to whom we our Misfortunes owe,
And all the Signs of real Friendship show.
But when we're absent, we their Sport are made,
They fan the Flame, and our Oppressors aid;
Joyn with the Stronger, the Victorious Side,
And all our Suff'ring, all our griefs deride.
Those gen'rous few, whom kinder Thoughts inspire,
And who the Happiness of all desire;
Who wish we were from barb'rous Usage free,
Exempt from Toils, and shameful Slavery,
Yet let us, unreprov'd, mis. spend our Hours,
And to mean Purposes employ our nobler Pow'rs.
They think, if we our Thoughts can but express,
And know but how to Work, to Dance and Dress,
It is enough, as much as we shou'd mind,
As if we were for nothing else design'd,
But made, like Puppets, to divert Mankind.
O that my Sex wou'd all such Toys despise;
And only study to be Good, and Wise;
Inspect themselves, and every Blemish find,
Search all the close Recesses of the Mind,
And leave no vice, no ruling Passion there,
Nothing to raise a Blush, or cause a Fear:
Their Memories with solid Notions fill,
And let their Reason dictate to their Will,
Instead of Novels, Histories peruse,
And for their Guides the wiser Ancients chuse,
Thro' all the Labyrinths of Learning go,
And grow more humble, as they more do know.
By doing this, they will Respect procure,
Silence the Men, and lasting Fame secure;
And to themselves the best Companions prove,
And neither fear their Malice, nor desire their Love.

poem by Lady Mary Chudleigh
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Virtue & Vice

Think of me
I'll think of you
We better think
This whole thing through
Sometimes i'm so clumsy
You talk to me
I'll talk to you
You cut the fat
And we'll both chew
You know we're both hungry
I feel so alive today
That's all that i wanted to say
I hope that it stays this way
If not i will be okay
Say another prayer
Save another life
Kiss me on my head
And tell me
Everything's alright
'cause i can say it one
Or i can shout it twice
All there really is
Is virtue and vice
Virtue and vice
Cry to me
I'll cry to you
Sometimes the pain will only do
You know i'm not kidding
You laugh with me
I'll laugh with you
At all the stupid things we do
Tomorrow we'll be happy

song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Virtue And Vice

think of me
i'll think of you
we better think
this whole thing through
sometimes i'm so clumsy
you talk to me
i'll talk to you
you cut the fat
and we'll both chew
you know we're both hungry
i feel so alive today
that's all that i wanted to say
i hope that it stays this way
if not i will be okay
say another prayer
save another life
kiss me on my head
and tell me
everything's alright
'cause i can say it one
or i can shout it twice
all there really is
is virtue and vice
virtue and vice
cry to me
i'll cry to you
sometimes the pain will only do
you know i'm not kidding
you laugh with me
i'll laugh with you
at all the stupid things we do
tomorrow we'll be happy

song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Virtue Vice

Think of me
Ill think of you
We better think
This whole thing through
Sometimes Im so clumsy
You talk to me
Ill talk to you
You cut the fat
And well both chew
You know were both hungry
I feel so alive today
Thats all that I wanted to say
I hope that it stays this way
If not I will be okay
Say another prayer
Save another life
Kiss me on my head
And tell me
Everythings alright
cause I can say it one
Or I can shout it twice
All there really is
Is virtue and vice
Virtue and vice
Cry to me
Ill cry to you
Sometimes the pain will only do
You know Im not kidding
You laugh with me
Ill laugh with you
At all the stupid things we do
Tomorrow well be happy

song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is Anybody There?

(rick wakeman)
Producer for bonnie: rick wakeman
Recorded in 1998 (released 1999) for rick wakemans album return to the centre of the earth - a follow-up to his 1979 album journey to the centre of the earth. lyrics taken from the uk album sleeve.
Chorus 1:
Does anyone know my name?
Is there anybody there?
Youre as near me as you can ever be
Watching me
Watching me
Tag1:
Does anyone love me?
Does anyone need me?
Nobody knows my name
Takes my blame
Feels my pain
Chorus 2:
Does anyone care for me?
I just need a life to share
All my life Ive searched
For someone just like you
Is there anybody there?
Is anyone there?
Anyone there?
Verse 1:
I dont know why you make me wanna stay
cos theres no-one left to love
Im losing my life for a reason
Im losing my life cos of you
Tag 2:
Is anybody really there?
Bridge:
No-one waits for no-one
No-one cares at all
Nowhere left to hang around
No-one left to call
Patience is my virtue
By virtue of my shame
Broken pieces everywhere
Everythings a game
Where have all the people gone
That once were in my life
Why has everybody gone away?
Chorus 3:
Does anyone know my name?
Or does anybody care?
Theres a reason
Why I know I have to stay
So is anybody there?
Im losing my life for a reason
Im losing my life cos of you
I want to know youre out there just for me
Chorus 4:
Im tired of waiting here for you
Now Ive made up my mind
Youre no good
I dont need you
I dont care anymore when you cry
Im sending my love far away
With a piece of my heart
And a tear for each day
That I cried
So there must be a reason for living
There must be a reason for loving
Its all right
Its all right
Tag 4:
Will anyone really care
If I just walk away
With a tear in each eye
And a reason not to stay?
Does anyone really know me?
Does anyone really care?
Is there anybody there?

song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ive Found A Reason

Written by ricky & kim wilde
Been a long time alone now
Only live every day on my own terms
Doing everything my way
If you dont understand you had to learn
You say you see a different world
That you dont believe in what I say
Now you walk into my world
Aware of the danger
But you wont turn away
Somewhere down the road I left a part of me behind
The girl you want to know left years ago
Before she lost her mind
You brought back the heart in me
I thought Id never find
cos I didnt care before
But now Ive found a reason
Baby, how did you find me
Ive been lost for so long without a trace
You came back to remind me
Got me back from a sad and lonely place
And all the ghosts have disappeared
Youve taken away the things Ive feared
Ive turned my back on all the pain
You gave me a reason to llive my life again
Somewhere down the road I left a part of me behind
The girl you want to know left years ago
Before she lost her mind
You brought back the heart in me
I thought Id never find
cos I didnt care before
But now Ive found a reason
You were there before my eyes
How could I have been so blind
Ive got one life
Ive been wasting time
You came to save this heart of mine
And all the ghosts have disappeared
Youve taken away the things Ive feared
Ive turned my back on all the pain
You gave me a reason to llive my life again
Somewhere down the road I left a part of me behind
The girl you want to know left years ago
Before she lost her mind
You brought back the heart in me
I thought Id never find
cos I didnt care before
But now Ive found a reason
Now Ive found a reason

song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Emotions and Your Healh.

When your mind is at peace,
You have a calm, interesting life in this race.
Doing things, enjoy all, learn from all,
So, your body is healthy, well and happy and you don't fall.

However, if your thinking is about arguments, anger or fight,
You'll pick up the worst food combination, which is not right.
So, your whole body follows & you loose your balance,
Mind will show the way to the body with the wrong guidance.

If you crave strongly about happiness from the past,
Or you are greedy, you attract diabetes fast.
If you are angry for every dropp of a hat,
Your heart will suffer from that.

If you want to win anything real bad,
Your lungs will suffer and get sad.
If you hate others, thinking, they are all wrong,
Your liver will not sing a happy song.

Even, if you regret strongly something from your past,
That is the reason to attract cancer in your forecast.
The past is gone, the future is not here yet,
How you think today, surely tomorrow you will get.

However, if you make peace with your world,
What you created anyway, knowing or not,
Your life on this Earth will be a happy plot.
You will go from one adventure to the other,
On the ship of life you will be a healthy, happy passenger.

Just go on, believe that everything is necessary for your evolving.

poem by LaSoaphia QuXazs
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Which Comes First

when two people get married
is it a marriage of Body and Mind?
or is it a marriage of Heart and Soul?
and which one comes first?
SOMETHING TO PONDER!
what did i feel when i proposed?

my Body: told me that i ached for
the joining together, and sexual fulfillment.
my Mind: told me that i wanted to be
with her for the rest of my life.
my Heart: felt empty without her.
my Soul: soared to the highest height
to see all that could be given and achieved.

when i first saw you my Heart stood still
like on a roller coaster going down
and feeling the thrill.
and as that thrill rose, my Soul climbed high above
to show me this beautiful love.
this love so strong that it consumed my Body and Mind.
that it took me to 'the end of time'.

so for me which came first, as you can
plainly see, Heart and Soul was the one for me.

i give you my Heart- and all it contains
for without you, my life will never be the same.
i give you my Soul-for that is the other part
that i have to give
for without a Soul we can not live.
i give you my Mind- for your love to control
for it protects my Heart and Soul.
i give you my Body-
which is an empty shell
for without your love, i'm in living hell.

these are the four parts of this mere man
and i give it to you, for that's my plan.
i would take the human sufferings of
torture, pain and defeat
as long as i know your love i'll keep.

'YOU ARE LIFE' and all that it holds
Body, Mind, Heart and Soul.
take me as you would a breath of air
and my life with you i will share.

I THINK THE ANSWER THAT I HAVE GIVEN
SHOWS THAT LIFE IS WORTH LIVING.

poem by Louis Rams
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Sonnet 101: Stella Is Sick

Stella is sick, and in that sickbed lies
Sweetness, which breathes and pants as oft as she:
And Grace, sick too, such fine conclusions tries
That Sickness brags itself best grac'd to be.

Beauty is sick, but sick in so fair guise
That is that paleness Beauty's white we see,
And Joy, which is inseparate from those eyes,
Stella now learns (strange case) to weep in thee.

Love moves thy pain, and like a faithful page,
As thy looks stir, runs up and down to make
All folks press'd at thy will thy pain t'assuage.

Nature with care sweats for her darling's sake,
Knowing worlds pass, ere she enough can find
Of such heav'n stuff, to clothe so heav'nly mind.

poem by Philip Sidney
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One Good Reason

Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Like a thief youve stolen
Like rain on a grave
Like a priest whos spoken
But failed to save
Now the air is empty
And the ground the same
Love has gone to be buried
Beside my name
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Why couldnt you have told me
About your liars kiss
I cant believe youd leave me
At a time like this
And the wind is howling
And its a dying dream
And my faith is silent
While my doubts scream
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care

song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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High Noon

Time’s finger on the dial of my life
Points to high noon! And yet the half-spent day
Leaves less than half remaining, for the dark,
Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end.

To those who burn the candle to the stick,
The sputtering socket yields but little light.
Long life is sadder than early death.
We cannot count on raveled threads of age
Whereof to weave a fabric. We must use
The warp and woof the ready present yields
And toils while daylight lasts. When I bethink
How brief the past, the future still more brief,
Calls on to action, action! Not for me
Is time for retrospection or for dreams,
Not time for self-laudation or remorse.
Have I done nobly? Then I must not let
Dead yesterday unborn to-morrow shame.
Have I done wrong? Well, let the bitter taste
Of fruit that turned to ashes on my lip
Be my reminder in temptations hour,
And keep me silent when I could condemn.
Sometimes it takes the acid of a sin
To cleanse the clouded windows of our souls
So pity may shine through them.

Looking back,
My faults and errors seem like stepping-stones
That led the way to knowledge of the truth
And made me value virtue: sorrows shine
In rainbow colours o’er the gulf of years,
Where lie forgotten pleasures.

Looking forth,
Out to the westers sky still bright with noon,
I feel well spurred and booted for the strife
That ends not till Nirvana is attained.

Battling with fate, with men and with myself,
Up the steep summit of my life’s forenoon,
Three things I learned, three things of precious worth
To guide and help me down the western slope.
I have learned how to pray, and toil, and save.
To pray for courage to receive what comes,
Knowing what comes to be divinely sent.
To toil for universal good, since thus
And only thus can good come unto me.
To save, by giving whatsoe’er I have
To those who have not, this alone is gain.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Elegy XIV: To Delia

What Scenes of Bliss my raptur'd Fancy fram'd,
In some lone Spot with Peace and thee retir'd,
Tho' Reason then my sanguine Fondness blam'd,
I still believ'd what flatt'ring Love inspir'd:

But now my Wrongs have taught my humbled Mind,
To dangerous Bliss no longer to pretend,
In Books, a calm but fixt Content to find,
Safe Joys, that on our selves alone depend:

With them the gentle Moments I beguile,
In learned Ease, and elegant Delight,
Compare the Beauties of each different Stile,
Each various Ray of Wit's diffusive Light:

Now mark the Strength of Milton's sacred Lines,
Sense rais'd by Genius, Fancy rul'd by Art,
Where all the Glory of the God-head shines,
And earliest Innocence inchants the Heart.

Now fir'd by Pope and Virtue leave the Age
In low Pursuit of self-undoing Wrong,
And trace the Author thro' his moral Page,
Whose blameless Life still answers to his Song.

If Time and Books my lingring Pain can heal,
And Reason fix it's Empire o'er my Heart,
My Patriot Breast a nobler Warmth shall feel,
And glow with Love where Weakness has no part.

Thy Heart, O Lyttleton, shall be my Guide,
It's Fire shall warm me, and it's Worth improve,
Thy Heart, above all Envy, and all Pride,
Firm as Man's Sense, and soft as Woman's Love.

And you, O West, with her your Partner dear,
Whom social Mirth and useful Sense commend,
With Learning's Feast my drooping Mind shall chear,
Glad to escape from Love to such a Friend.

But why, so long my weaker Heart deceive?
Ah still I love in Pride and Reason's Spite,
No Books, alas my painful Thoughts relieve,
And while I threat, this Elegy I write.

poem by James Hammond
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Part Of My Life

Can you be a part of my life?
Can you be a part of my life?
Oh its easy to find some one to play with
And almost anyone will do to fill your idle time
But that very special someone,
You can share all your dreams with is so hard to find
And it use to be like me to settle for the physical
But these days it aint too easy to make up my mind
Cause apparently you body just to temporally to take up my precious time
See Ive got to know that
That I can be free with you and
Youve got to show that
That youre worthy of my time
Can you stimulate my mind?
And I know that it looks good,
But can you be a part of my life
And Im sure that it feels good
But can you be a part of my life
And it probably even taste good
But can you be a part of my life
Ive got to know
I still appreciate the beauty of a man
But theres more to what I need now than what meets the eye
And if beautys only skin deep,
Then your pretty skin wont send me to my highest high
Oh its been along time come for maturity
And I believe that its truly what it has to be
Cause as much as I admire you
My sexual desire, aint controlling me
See Ive got to know that
That I can be free with you and
Youve got to show that
That youre worthy of my time
Can you stimulate my mind?
And I know that it looks good,
But can you be a part of my life
And Im sure that it feels good
But can you be a part of my life
And it probably even taste good
But can you be a part of my life
Ive got to know
And I know that it looks good,
But can you be a part of my life
And Im sure that it feels good
But can you be a part of my life
And it probably even taste good
But can you be a part of my life
Ive got to know
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that
Can you be a part of my life?
I got to know that

song performed by by India Arie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seeing You Dying, Hurts

Ever wonder, just a ponder
what life would be like
if we were told we had little to live
tears and fears, mind blowing
what to do, no time to go
the anger, the pain, the stress
how long to go, no one knows
could be fast, maybe slow and last
forever we want to live
we pray for long life and healthiness
why do we get picked, not our choice
people been there some survive.others don't
thinking where life should go
quit the job, see the world
sit and moan, don't frown
get on your feet live it well
happiness extents life
be free and enjoy those days
number as they are
limited as you go, be with the ones who care
for they will suffer the most
living without you
give them memories to share
do not spare, they do care
pictures and stories last forever
good and bad, tears and laughter will fall
missing you will be so hard
been together for all your life
the world will be so lost
without you there
have to find away to go on
it's not the same, things will change
lives will go on
never let go, you been told
it's so hard to let you go
time so cruel, it's running out
please forgive me if I cry
your a big part of our lives
stay around and have some fun
life is grand and so are you
give it all, don't let time end
love makes time, time makes life
I will smile till the end
cry to myself, show no pain
the hurt so hidden
makes me think
why not me, why you

poem by Michael Peterson
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To Stella, Written On The Day Of Her Birth. March 13, 1723-4, But Not On The Subject, When I Was Sick In Bed

Tormented with incessant pains,
Can I devise poetic strains?
Time was, when I could yearly pay
My verse to Stella's native day:
But now unable grown to write,
I grieve she ever saw the light.
Ungrateful! since to her I owe
That I these pains can undergo.
She tends me like an humble slave;
And, when indecently I rave,
When out my brutish passions break,
With gall in every word I speak,
She with soft speech my anguish cheers,
Or melts my passions down with tears;
Although 'tis easy to descry
She wants assistance more than I;
Yet seems to feel my pains alone,
And is a stoic in her own.
When, among scholars, can we find
So soft and yet so firm a mind?
All accidents of life conspire
To raise up Stella's virtue higher;
Or else to introduce the rest
Which had been latent in her breast.
Her firmness who could e'er have known,
Had she not evils of her own?
Her kindness who could ever guess,
Had not her friends been in distress?
Whatever base returns you find
From me, dear Stella, still be kind.
In your own heart you'll reap the fruit,
Though I continue still a brute.
But, when I once am out of pain,
I promise to be good again;
Meantime, your other juster friends
Shall for my follies make amends;
So may we long continue thus,
Admiring you, you pitying us.

poem by Jonathan Swift
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A prayer to the Father of heaven

O radiant luminary of light interminable,
Celestial Father, potential God of might,
Of heaven and earth O Lord incomparable,
Of all perfections the essential most perfite !
O maker of mankind, that formëd day and night,
Whose power imperial comprehendeth every place :
Mine heart, my mind, my thought, my whole delight
Is after this life to see thy glorious face.

Whose magnificense is incomprehensible,
All arguments of reason which far doth exceed,
Whose deity doubtless is indivisible,
From whom all goodness and virtue doth proceed ;
Of thy support all creätures have need :
Assist me, good Lord, and grant my of thy grace
To live to thy pleasure in word, thought, and deed,
And after this life to see thy glorious face.

poem by John Skelton
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Sonnet LXXI: Who Will in Fairest Book

Who will in fairest book of nature know
How virtue may best lodg'd in beauty be,
Let him but learn of love to read in thee,
Stella, those fair lines which true goodness show.
There shall he find all vices' overthrow,
Not by rude force, but sweetest sovereignty
Of reason, from whose light those night-birds fly;
That inward sun in thine eyes shineth so.
And, not content to be perfection's heir
Thyself, dost strive all minds that way to move,
Who mark in thee what is in thee most fair.
So while thy beauty draws thy heart to love,
As fast thy virtue bends that love to good:
But "Ah," Desire still cries, "Give me some food!"

poem by Philip Sidney
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