The Cottage
The house my earthly parent left
My heavenly parent still throws down,
For 'tis of air and sun bereft,
Nor stars its roof with beauty crown.
He gave it me, yet gave it not
As one whose gifts are wise and good;
'Twas but a poor and clay-built cot,
And for a time the storms withstood.
But lengthening years and frequent rain
O'ercame its strength; it tottered, fell,
And left me homeless here again,
And where to go I could not tell.
But soon the light and open air
Received me as a wandering child,
And I soon thought their house more fair,
And all my grief their love beguiled.
Mine was the grove, the pleasant field
Where dwelt the flowers I daily trod;
And there beside them too I kneeled
And called their friend my friend and God.
poem by Jones Very
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Related quotes
Hattie House
Air -- "Lily Dale"
Come all kind friends, wherever you may be,
Come listen to what I say,
It's of a little girl that was pleasant to see,
And she died while out doors at play.
CHORUS:
Oh! Hattie, dear Hattie,
Sweet little Hattie House --
May the flowers ever bloom o'er the little tomb,
Of our loved one, Hattie House.
She had blue eyes and light flaxen hair,
Her little heart was light and gay,
She said to her mother, that morning fair,
"Mother, can I go out and play?"
Her mother tied her bonnet on,
Not thinking it would be the last
She would ever see her dear little one
In this world, little Hattie House.
She left the house, this dear little girl,
On that bright and pleasant day --
She went to play with two little girls
That were near about her age.
She was not gone but a little while
When they heard her playmates call --
Her friends hastened there to save the child,
Alas, she was dead and gone.
Those little girls will not forget
The day little Hattie died,
For she was with them when she fell in a fit,
While playing by their side.
She was her parents' only child,
And her age was near six years,
And now she has left them for a while --
Left all her friends in tears.
She has left this world of grief and woe,
Dear friends, she has left behind --
She is waiting on the other shore,
To meet them bye and bye.
One fine morning, the fifth of July,
The summer flowers were in bloom,
Eighteen seventy-one, little Hattie died,
And is sleeping in her tomb.
poem by Julia A Moore
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Olney Hymn 12: Ephraim Repenting
My God, till I received Thy stroke,
How like a beast was I!
So unaccustom'd to the yoke,
So backward to comply.
With grief my just reproach I hear;
Shame fills me at the thought,
How frequent my rebellions were,
What wickedness I wrought.
Thy merciful restraint I scorn'd,
And left the pleasant road;
Yet turn me, and I shall be turn'd;
Thou art the Lord my God.
'Is Ephraim banish'd from my thoughts,
Or vile in my esteem?
No,' saith the Lord, 'with all his faults,
I still remember him.
'Is he a dear and pleasant child?
Yes, dear and pleasant still;
Though sin his foolish heart beguiled,
And he withstood my will.
'My sharp rebuke has laid him low,
He seeks my face again;
My pity kindles at his woe,
He shall not seek in vain.'
poem by William Cowper
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Ephraim Repenting
(Jeremiah, xxxi. 18-20)
My God, till I received Thy stroke,
How like a beast was I!
So unaccustom'd to the yoke,
So backward to comply.
With grief my just reproach I hear;
Shame fills me at the thought,
How frequent my rebellions were,
What wickedness I wrought.
Thy merciful restraint I scorn'd,
And left the pleasant road;
Yet turn me, and I shall be turn'd;
Thou art the Lord my God.
"Is Ephraim banish'd from my thoughts,
Or vile in my esteem?
No," saith the Lord, "with all his faults,
I still remember him.
"Is he a dear and pleasant child?
Yes, dear and pleasant still;
Though sin his foolish heart beguiled,
And he withstood my will.
"My sharp rebuke has laid him low,
He seeks my face again;
My pity kindles at his woe,
He shall not seek in vain."
poem by William Cowper
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A Friend Of Mine
1 - she was a friend of mine
She left with my man
She lied
Cheated
Took all I had
She was a friend of mine
She used what she knew
She lied
Cheated
And left me confused
I feel so lost
Dont know why this has happened to me
My closest friend
I never would have thought it could be
You were someone
Someone I really thought I could trust
But my man
You laid
And Im betrayed
Repeat 1
Thicker than blood
Where ever there was me
There was you
My all was your wrong
But that wasnt enough for you
You had to see
And tried to walk a mile in my shoes
In my head
In my bed
Betrayed by my best friend
Repeat 1
And oh, I wanna know why (why)
You were my friend (why)
I gave you all I had (why)
Everything, everything that you wanted
Why
You were my friend (why)
Oh, my sister (why)
Gave all you want
Ad lib while
Repeat 1 until fade
song performed by by Kelly Price
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With A Few Good Friends
(Carly Simon)
With a few good friends
And a stick or two
A house is built at a corner called Pooh
With a friend and a stick
Or three or four
A house is built where it wasn't before
With a window here
And there a door
And a nail and peg
For the coat of Eeyore
With a few good friends
And a stick or two
A house is built at a corner called Pooh
With a friend and a stick
Or three or four
A house is built where it wasn't before
Dress it down
Or dress it up
Invite Tigger for tea
And Owl for supper
With a few good friends
And a stick or two
A house is built at a corner called Pooh
With a friend and a stick
Or three or four
A house is built where it wasn't before
With a few good friends...
[Repeat and fade]
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Circle
From parent and child
to friend to child to parent.
I've grown and reflecting back.
The circle is clear to me.
As a child looking up to them.
Then eye to eye
with the coming of age.
Still I looked up to them.
Many the role my parents played
guiding my course through life.
Their status with me
changing as older I grew.
Entering the world of adults
leaving adolescence behind.
Friends confidants
and equals they became.
When times my needs demanded
support direction advice.
Always they were there.
On my parents I could rely.
Taking my place as a parent.
Their wisdom a well I drew from.
Their strength
became a staff I leaned on.
One day to me
it was suddenly clear.
My path through life
followed the footprints they left.
When came the time
in their autumn years.
For safe haven they looked to me.
Their obligations I realized fulfilled.
It was for me now the time
to carry that load
they had gladly borne.
The circle had come full turn.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Red Light Lady
(copyright nazareth,tiflis tunes,inc.-ascap)
Down at the house with the red light
She works from seven til dawn
Youll find her there any time that you like
Some days a week shell be on
Down at the house with the red light
I was a boy not to sure of myself
When I was first taken down
Down to the house with the red light
Two miles west of town
I paid my fee and I went on in
Into the house with the red light
Pull up a chair, up the stairs
The key was cold and dampened my hand
Opened the door, heard her say;
Into my room and set yourself down
She let us lie on this shiny brass bed
Curtains and flowers in her hair
She played my soul and she shattered my head
Could not believe I was there
Down at the house with the red light
I fell in love with that lady
First love I knew, she gave me
Seven days a week, you can find her
Down at the house with the red light
I fell in love with that lady
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Three Kings Of Cologne
From out Cologne there came three kings
To worship Jesus Christ, their King.
To Him they sought fine herbs they brought,
And many a beauteous golden thing;
They brought their gifts to Bethlehem town,
And in that manger set them down.
Then spake the first king, and he said:
'O Child, most heavenly, bright, and fair!
I bring this crown to Bethlehem town
For Thee, and only Thee, to wear;
So give a heavenly crown to me
When I shall come at last to Thee!'
The second, then. 'I bring Thee here
This royal robe, O Child!' he cried;
'Of silk 'tis spun, and such an one
There is not in the world beside;
So in the day of doom requite
Me with a heavenly robe of white!'
The third king gave his gift, and quoth:
'Spikenard and myrrh to Thee I bring,
And with these twain would I most fain
Anoint the body of my King;
So may their incense sometime rise
To plead for me in yonder skies!'
Thus spake the three kings of Cologne,
That gave their gifts, and went their way;
And now kneel I in prayer hard by
The cradle of the Child to-day;
Nor crown, nor robe, nor spice I bring
As offering unto Christ, my King.
Yet have I brought a gift the Child
May not despise, however small;
For here I lay my heart to-day,
And it is full of love to all.
Take Thou the poor but loyal thing,
My only tribute, Christ, my King!
poem by Eugene Field
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The Power of Good-bye
Cruel friend
Trust built on lies
Holding on to the wound
That will never heal
Beyond repair
Upon the betrayal of a friend.
I only have the strength
For one last word;
Good-bye
Good-bye to sleepless nights
Helplessness in your arms
To a lifetime of your dreams
Power of your screams
There is no strength left in me to fight
Pick your battles
Because you already lost this one
How can I be your friend?
When all that’s left is the strength to say
Good-bye.
poem by Agata Konopka
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Grief Is Less With The Years The Tenth Yahrtzeit Of The Holy Teacher
GRIEF IS LESS WITH THE YEARS
AT THE TENTH YAHRTZEIT OF THE HOLY TEACHER
Grief is less with the years-
A friend is not a parent-
Time makes life different
It is not what it was then.
My good friend my holy teacher
May G-d enjoy your joyful presence
As so I so much did when you were here.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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In my grief
In my grief
I have forgotten I have a friend
I have not remember there is YOU
Who are willing to wipe away my tears.
In my grief
I have hurt you my friend
I run hiding in my own cocoon
And left you alone wandering where I am
In my grief
I ignore you calling my name
I have close my eyes for your need of a friend
And left you alone in your lament
After my grief
I look for where you are
But couldn’t find you anymore
Coz you grew tired waiting for me
poem by Tear Drops
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I Have A Friend
I have a friend who cannot walk
I have a friend all he does is talk
I have a friend, Philippe is his name
I have a friend and we are just the same
I have a friend he’s seventeen years old
I have a friend who has a heart of gold
I have a friend who would catch me if I fall
It is only that he has no legs at all
I have a friend and when my friend was seven
A car ran over him and he almost went to heaven
I have a friend with a smile that I adore
I have a friend who lives in a house of four
I have a friend his family is his home
I have a friend who dreams of visiting Rome
I have a friend who is still finishing school
Yet some people tell him that for that he is a fool
I have a friend they say he is disabled
He has no legs and for that he is labeled
I have a friend who has a friend
They were made for each other; their love will never end
I have a friend who likes to name the stars
I have a friend and what he hates is cars
I have a friend who’s happier than you and me
I have a friend who’s shown me how happy I can be
I have a friend who’s had his bad times too
I have a friend who’s better than me and you
I have a friend so dear to me and kind
That another one like him I shall never find!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Re-route for Love
It is said that people
Can't make you mad.
that was not said of granddad's.
Children who are lazy or just plain slow
Add fire to anger as they go.
Love prevails most of the time,
Keeping your anger from crime.
Do this! do that!
over and over...
While the children are getting phat,
From food that they never buy
And if you ask them....they ask why?
Makes a grown person want to cry.
Not doing...and they are not shy,
They rush up and out of bed...
Marching right pass what the parent
Has said.
Both hands out...
When either is filled they want to pout.
Then the parent wants to shout...
But the parent,
Remembering no one can make you mad...
Damn! being a real parent is so sad.
Do this! do that!
While they re-act as if they are a slave,
And all the while sending the parent to his or her grave.
They are only... ask to repeat a smalltask...
But inside they wonder why they are asked.
That is when the real parent stands tall
It is not the anger but the love of it all...
God gave us free will
And we know not to kill...
But to chill.
poem by whisperkwane Lamb
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Differences between a Good Friend and a Bad Friend
A good friend would wait for you;
So you could both walk to the bus;
A bad friend would just leave impatient;
“I’d rather go hang with Gus.”
A good friend would help with a chore;
Even if it’s taking out the trash;
A bad friend would just smirk;
“If only you gave me cash.”
A good friend would listen;
To whatever you have to say;
A bad friend would cover your mouth;
“Quit blabbering away! ”
A good friend would say “Come on over.”
Whenever you feel like you’re alone;
A bad friend would yell at your face;
“Just go on back home! ”
A good friend would phone;
To ask how you are;
A bad friend wouldn’t care;
“Wanna go to the bar? ”
A good friend will cheer you up;
Whenever you feel sad;
A bad friend would laugh;
“Well, that’s just too bad.”
A good friend would stand up for you;
When blamed for a crime;
A bad friend would walk away;
“Oh look at the time.”
A good friend would come to your funeral;
And leave flowers in your wake;
A bad friend would blow it off;
“It was his mistake! ”
poem by Jessica Lopez
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I thought it was a gift.
They told me it was a gift;
they told me and I was so glad.
I put my heart and soul into it all,
cried tears and sweat so many beads of my own metallic crimson blood.
I gave it all; I thought it was a gift.
I worked longer than anyone I knew.
I worked harder.
I gave up so much more, I did so many things, all at the same time;
just so I could please them. I put their needs and wants over mine.
I gave it all; I thought it was a gift.
I thought that this was what they called fate,
I thought that this was what they called destiny.
I thought that I'd been given a gift for good.
I thought that gifts were supposed to bring joy, and happiness, and peace.
I gave it all, all because I thought it was a gift.
You never told me,
that one day I'd be sitting here,
questioning myself -
about how and why a God given gift, had suddenly turned
into a curse.
The City Dead-House
BY the City Dead-House, by the gate,
As idly sauntering, wending my way from the clangor,
I curious pause--for lo! an outcast form, a poor dead prostitute
brought;
Her corpse they deposit unclaim'd--it lies on the damp brick
pavement;
The divine woman, her body--I see the Body--I look on it alone,
That house once full of passion and beauty--all else I notice not;
Nor stillness so cold, nor running water from faucet, nor odors
morbific impress me;
But the house alone--that wondrous house--that delicate fair house--
that ruin!
That immortal house, more than all the rows of dwellings ever built!
Or white-domed Capitol itself, with majestic figure surmounted--or
all the old high-spired cathedrals; 10
That little house alone, more than them all--poor, desperate house!
Fair, fearful wreck! tenement of a Soul! itself a Soul!
Unclaim'd, avoided house! take one breath from my tremulous lips;
Take one tear, dropt aside as I go, for thought of you,
Dead house of love! house of madness and sin, crumbled! crush'd!
House of life--erewhile talking and laughing--but ah, poor house!
dead, even then;
Months, years, an echoing, garnish'd house--but dead, dead, dead.
poem by Walt Whitman
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The Houses
1898 -- A Song of the Dominions
'Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad,
In thy house or my house is half the world's hoard;
By my house and thy house hangs all the world's fate,
On thy house and my house lies half the world's hate.
For my house and thy house no help shall we find
Save thy house and my house -- kin cleaving to kind;
If my house be taken, thine tumbleth anon.
If thy house be forfeit, mine followeth soon.
'Twixt my house and thy house what talk can there be
Of headship or lordship, or service or fee?
Since my house to thy house no greater can send
Than thy house to my house -- friend comforting friend;
And thy house to my house no meaner can bring
Than my house to thy house -- King counselling King.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Shifting the House
He lived in my heart for a long time
When life was in its metre and rhyme.
When the house became shabby
He was reminded of his old hobby.
He searched out a house newly raised
Day and night its beauty he praised.
Then one day he took all his luggage
And left the house bag and baggage.
He was welcomed with open arms
He got lost in its fascinating charms.
He enjoyed a long passage of time
As long as life was in its rhyme.
Insted of house now he became old
Over the change he had no hold.
Now the house wanted to shift him
Because the light of his eyes was dim.
Wrinkles are not to be cherished
Now he was only to perish.
According to the misery's demand
He was proper for dust or sand.
He wa kinly sent to a house of clay
It was the dropp scene of life's play.
As it was a house most shabby
To change house was his hobby.
He was waiting for a good shift
That may prove a good gift.
poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai
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A House called Lonely (A Trilogy in three parts)
There is a street in every town that owns a house
called lonely. Then when your just passing by you might
just say, 'if only.
If only could mean a life time of thoughts but it does'nt cure
a lonely house and all its faults.
Boarded up windows and tiles gone from the roof, graffiti
painted by a rebelious youth.
Such a lonely house and an oh such a tired one,
one that has lost all it's fun.
Stairs and rafters all gone to pot all that is left
is wood worm and dry rot.
No children playing in the garden, it's just a house condemend
by the council without no pardon. Poor lonely house someones
forgotton dream, now describing lifes social scene.
This lonely house stands in the way because their building
a By Pass or a new motorway.
The house called lonely could be any where, in the town, the
country or city square.
Even in your street there's a house called lonely just waiting
for you to say 'if only'
poem by Sylvia Spencer
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Home For Love
Because the earth is vast and dark
And wet and cold;
Because man's heart wants warmth and light
Lest it grow old;
Therefore the house was built--wall, roof
And brick and beam,
By a lost hand following the lost
Delight of a dream,
And room and stair show how that hand
Groped in eager doubt,
With needless weight of teasing timber
Matching his thought--
Such fond superfluousness of strength
In wall and wood
As his half-wise, half-fearful eye
Deemed only good.
His brain he built into the house,
Laboured his bones;
He burnt his heart into the brick
And red hearth-stones.
It is his blood that makes the house
Still warm, safe, bright,
Honest as aim and eye and hand,
As clean, as light.
Because the earth is vast and dark
The house was built--
Now with another heart and fire
To be fulfilled.
poem by John Freeman
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