Conclusion of a Letter to a Friend
Sent from Italy, 1741
But happy you from the contagion free,
Who, through her veil, can human nature see;
Calm you reflect, amid the frantic scene,
On the low views of those mistaken men,
Who lose the short invaluable hour,
Through dirt-pursuing schemes of distant pow'r:
Whose best enjoyments never pay the chase,
But melt like snow within a warm embrace.
Believe me, friend, for such indeed are you,
Dear to my heart, and to my int'rest true;
Too much already have you thrown away,
Too long sustain'd the labor of the day;
Enjoy the remnant of declining light,
Nor wait for rest till overwhelm'd in night.
By present pleasure balance pain you've past,
Forget all systems, and indulge your taste.
poem by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
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Related quotes
Night Whisperer
O Night comes again,
When the golden light leaving the sky
Follow the sun, to the west hills it flies
Flying birds now return, reach home again
Slowly the shadow comes, kiss over the land
Shades of night
Blanket all in the dark
So your eyes, closed for light
Don't give up or tired by today's fears
By my palm touch you softly with prayers
Leave your worry to sleep well, goodnight, dear
O Night comes again,
Warrior of nights present with delightful smiles
Radiant spherical resonance glows you from miles
Lunar whispers in lullaby, trade your sad with happiness
Protect you from dark, shield in armor, made of light
Goodnight, sleep tight, no danger dares to you tonight
This supreme night
Pillow your mind with bubble dreams
Go high and absorb the moonlight beam
To lullaby you with a sweet dream story
Before come tomorrow rise with sun glory
And run and forget yesterday for new history
O Night comes again
Sparkling in the air, like fairies dancing in the sky
Scattering stars exist at night and gone in daylight
Their shadows in your eyes, blanket you warm in bravery
Remind you 'In the dark, a faint light bolder as brightest spark'
'Find bright in destiny, night help you search for purely'
Be brave always may tonight you gain spirit, and be free
Dont sad if today breaks your heart
Release your mind, calm soul to back home
Next day will be another day, a new start
Wonderful life will come and past just gone
Ease your worry, come sleep, close your eyes
Just dream sweet, sleep well and goodnight
So happy to see you smile,
Could be today life you enjoy so much
Still a lot surprises to discover tomorrow
But now Sleep well smile bright and goodnight
Tuck in patient, waiting for new day
Shades of night
Blanket all in the dark
When the sun falling down
Nothing to lose in dark
But to find strength without light
From east sun reborn, the end of night
And run again for new life, make true your dream
Flying with the birds from nest and discover the day rest
Whispers will no end, my wish will reach you wherever you are
Because the night in every second, to remind the night walker
Where moon just come and comfort you anytime you want
For day will come,
Till the light bring golden ray in warm
Let moonlight embrace you in night arm
Be with you, keep warm on your side
Before tomorrow good night, sleep sweet tonight
Sleep dear, dream high and smile as moon give to borrow
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Even day lose it bright sun, but not mean dark with moon is to cry,
so dropp your sorrow, leave your worry because, in dark
there's a hint to rise again, to rest from all pains, to see another side
of spirit that we neglected in daylight...this come with melody of lullaby
..if we lose in dark, keep believe there's a best way to give us the best
things about life...it's a breakthrough method to find success as sometimes
we never meet a big success before we meet big failure/ dark..
Bring it positive, , , and like in our day, night also will go and sun will rise again
so the new day comes for new start...to make dream to be true
where past nightmare it just nothing to scare..
So take care, Goodnight and sleep tight wherever you are
because every second, there's a place meet dark...be bright!
_Unwritten Soul
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poem by Unwritten Soul
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On Delia (Bid Adieu, My Sad Heart)
Bid adieu, my sad heart, bid adieu to thy peace!
Thy pleasure is past, and thy sorrows increase;
See the shadows of evening how far they extend,
And a long night is coming, that never may end;
For the sun is now set that enlivened the scene,
And an age must be past ere it rises again.
Already deprived of its splendour and heat,
I feel thee more slowly, more heavily beat;
Perhaps overstrained with the quick pulse of pleasure,
Thou art glad of this respite to beat at thy leisure;
But the sigh of distress shall now weary thee more
Than the flutter and tumult of passion before.
The heart of a lover is never at rest,
With joy overwhelmed, or with sorrow oppressed:
When Delia is near, all is ecstasy then,
And I even forget I must lose her again:
When absent, as wretched as happy before,
Despairing I cry, I shall see her no more!
poem by William Cowper
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It's Not Yet Over
A bleeding heart hits the page
The deep red stain sinks through
The soft sent of burning sage
Signals the death of you
But come to life my dear friend
It's not your time to go
You may think this is the end
But I will not believe it is so
So come to life again today
The light my just be near
Fight your way through the fray
And do not fight the tears
The pain you feel is true I know
But loss is not always forever
Though your thrown to and fro
I refuse to cause this sever
My dear friend stay here with me
The eternal night has not yet come
My dear friend just wait and see
We can make it if we run
She may be gone for now
But wait and see
Do not make yet, your final bow
She may yet think 'You and me'
Give her the time you took yourself
All the confusion not yet clear
Put your pain and fear upon the shelf
And tell her how you'ld hold her dear
I write this for you my friend
For I know your pain
I write this for you my friend
In hopes that you come through again.
poem by John Dillenger II
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Lines Left upon a Seat in a Yew-tree
Nay, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
Far from all human dwelling: what if here
No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?
What if the bee love not these barren boughs?
Yet, if the wind breathe soft, the curling waves,
That break against the shore, shall lull thy mind
By one soft impulse saved from vacancy.
--------------------Who he was
That piled these stones and with the mossy sod
First covered, and here taught this aged Tree
With its dark arms to form a circling bower,
I well remember.--He was one who owned
No common soul. In youth by science nursed,
And led by nature into a wild scene
Of lofty hopes, he to the world went forth
A favoured Being, knowing no desire
Which genius did not hallow; 'gainst the taint
Of dissolute tongues, and jealousy, and hate,
And scorn,--against all enemies prepared,
All but neglect. The world, for so it thought,
Owed him no service; wherefore he at once
With indignation turned himself away,
And with the food of pride sustained his soul
In solitude.--Stranger! these gloomy boughs
Had charms for him; and here he loved to sit,
His only visitants a straggling sheep,
The stone-chat, or the glancing sand-piper:
And on these barren rocks, with fern and heath,
And juniper and thistle, sprinkled o'er,
Fixing his downcast eye, he many an hour
A morbid pleasure nourished, tracing here
An emblem of his own unfruitful life:
And, lifting up his head, he then would gaze
On the more distant scene,--how lovely 'tis
Thou seest,--and he would gaze till it became
Far lovelier, and his heart could not sustain
The beauty, still more beauteous! Nor, that time,
When nature had subdued him to herself,
Would he forget those Beings to whose minds,
Warm from the labours of benevolence,
The world, and human life, appeared a scene
Of kindred loveliness: then he would sigh,
Inly disturbed, to think that others felt
What he must never feel: and so, lost Man!
On visionary views would fancy feed,
Till his eye streamed with tears. In this deep vale
He died,--this seat his only monument.
If Thou be one whose heart the holy forms
Of young imagination have kept pure,
Stranger! henceforth be warned; and know that pride,
Howe'er disguised in its own majesty,
Is littleness; that he, who feels contempt
For any living thing, hath faculties
Which he has never used; that thought with him
Is in its infancy. The man whose eye
Is ever on himself doth look on one,
The least of Nature's works, one who might move
The wise man to that scorn which wisdom holds
Unlawful, ever. O be wiser, Thou!
Instructed that true knowledge leads to love;
True dignity abides with him alone
Who, in the silent hour of inward thought,
Can still suspect, and still revere himself
In lowliness of heart.
poem by William Wordsworth
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But A Mist
Our life on earth is but a mist, no matter how long that list,
Of those things in the past, of achievements we amassed,
Or those things we want to do, before time here is through,
For we are simply a vapor here, with that end drawing near.
Years of three score and ten, a time decreed for most men,
With good health, maybe more, no man can be totally sure,
Or one could have a shorter end, to the life they have friend,
Short or long, our life will be, a small blip in light of Eternity.
All the things that we’ve done, are fading like the setting sun,
Maybe, still a memory in our mind, but, they’ll be left behind,
The distant memories in our heart, many gone, as we depart,
From this earth and the past; a time for all that shall not last.
Of the present, we don’t know, how much we have yet to go,
Or what could change friend, to alter present time we spend,
Pursuing all wants and needs, uncertain where a future leads,
And death is as sure as birth, for all one day leave this earth.
All our lists, present or past, apart from God shall never last,
But all done for Christ shall be, transferred over into Eternity,
When life’s mist is over and done; in eternity with God’s Son,
Where these mists will endure, with Jesus Christ forevermore.
(Copyright ©02/2011)
Scenes In London I - Piccadilly
THE sun is on the crowded street,
It kindles those old towers;
Where England's noblest memories meet,
Of old historic hours.
Vast, shadowy, dark, and indistinct,
Tradition's giant fane,
Whereto a thousand years are linked,
In one electric chain.
So stands it when the morning light
First steals upon the skies;
And shadow'd by the fallen night,
The sleeping city lies.
It stands with darkness round it cast,
Touched by the first cold shine;
Vast, vague, and mighty as the past,
Of which it is the shrine.
'Tis lovely when the moonlight falls
Around the sculptured stone
Giving a softness to the walls,
Like love that mourns the gone.
Then comes the gentlest influence
The human heart can know,
The mourning over those gone hence
To the still dust below.
The smoke, the noise, the dust of day,
Have vanished from the scene;
The pale lamps gleam with spirit ray
O'er the park's sweeping green.
Sad shining on her lonely path,
The moon's calm smile above,
Seems as it lulled life's toil and wrath
With universal love.
Past that still hour, and its pale moon,
The city is alive;
It is the busy hour of noon,
When man must seek and strive.
The pressure of our actual life
Is on the waking brow;
Labour and care, endurance, strife,
These are around him now.
How wonderful the common street,
Its tumult and its throng,
The hurrying of the thousand feet
That bear life's cares along.
How strongly is the present felt,
With such a scene beside;
All sounds in one vast murmur melt
The thunder of the tide.
All hurry on—none pause to look
Upon another's face:
The present is an open book
None read, yet all must trace.
The poor man hurries on his race,
His daily bread to find;
The rich man has yet wearier chase,
For pleasure's hard to bind.
All hurry, though it is to pass
For which they live so fast—
What doth the present but amass,
The wealth that makes the past.
The past is round us—those old spires
That glimmer o'er our head;
Not from the present is their fires,
Their light is from the dead.
But for the past, the present's powers
Were waste of toil and mind;
But for those long and glorious hours
Which leave themselves behind.
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Our Oldest Friend
I GIVE you the health of the oldest friend
That, short of eternity, earth can lend,--
A friend so faithful and tried and true
That nothing can wean him from me and you.
When first we screeched in the sudden blaze
Of the daylight's blinding and blasting rays,
And gulped at the gaseous, groggy air,
This old, old friend stood waiting there.
And when, with a kind of mortal strife,
We had gasped and choked into breathing life,
He watched by the cradle, day and night,
And held our hands till we stood upright.
From gristle and pulp our frames have grown
To stringy muscle and solid bone;
While we were changing, he altered not;
We might forget, but he never forgot.
He came with us to the college class,--
Little cared he for the steward's pass!
All the rest must pay their fee,
Put the grim old dead-head entered free.
He stayed with us while we counted o'er
Four times each of the seasons four;
And with every season, from year to year,
The dear name Classmate he made more dear.
He never leaves us,--he never will,
Till our hands are cold and our hearts are still;
On birthdays, and Christmas, and New-Year's too,
He always remembers both me and you.
Every year this faithful friend
His little present is sure to send;
Every year, wheresoe'er we be,
He wants a keepsake from you and me.
How he loves us! he pats our heads,
And, lo! they are gleaming with silver threads;
And he 's always begging one lock of hair,
Till our shining crowns have nothing to wear.
At length he will tell us, one by one,
'My child, your labor on earth is done;
And now you must journey afar to see
My elder brother,--Eternity!'
And so, when long, long years have passed,
Some dear old fellow will be the last,--
Never a boy alive but he
Of all our goodly company!
When he lies down, but not till then,
Our kind Class-Angel will drop the pen
That writes in the day-book kept above
Our lifelong record of faith and love.
So here's a health in homely rhyme
To our oldest classmate, Father Time!
May our last survivor live to be
As bald and as wise and as tough as he!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Streets Of Little Italy
(robbie seidman)
Producer for bonnie: desmond child
The narrow and the winding ways
The streets of old new york
The families, the street life, the spark
The rooftop where we watched
San gennaros festival
Masquerades in the dark...
On the streets down in little italy
Where the past goes on and on forever
And I feel it ever present
In every step I take alone
On the streets down in little italy
The oceans and the years
That separate our lives
From these streets we once called our home
Those distances of space and time
How strong they are
And how weak they are...
On the streets down in little italy
Where the past goes on and on forever
And I feel it ever present
In every step I take alone
On the streets down in little italy
Does the morning sunlight
Still hit the bed where we used to lie
Do the sidewalk stands and markets still overflow
Where I lingered till I was empty
Where I stayed till I had to go
Though in the night
Sometimes I see you disappear
Down cobblestones...
On the streets down in little italy
Where the past goes on and on forever
And I feel it ever present
In every step I take alone
Like your presence in my bones
On the streets down in little italy
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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#40
share the time again
I spend with you
A friend is always good to have
But a lover's kiss is better than angels raining down at me
I dream of you at times when you're by my side
Dream you're not just like you are
So troubled and doubling my pain
Just one more tear
You shed for me
I wish i could climb inside your mind
And spend some time and hug and hold you
And mold you into what i'd like
But no i can't do this
Just a kiss to spend a while by you
And your familiar smile and voice
I lay awake
Then you lean back and smiling
On you
Most everything you do for me, i say
And the while let's make our way
And feel warm
In the middle of this storm with you
Like an angel
Oh, what the friends say is good, is right
I say
When you were again
And you were my friend
Before the lie
This one
Say yes i do
And with you
Sometimes
But while i do my best
With all the rest i leave to you
Can't wait for the hour
And when two things become this
All this trouble from a kiss from you, i'll do it
And when you come up smiling
And i'm thrown
Into i get a little storm with you, i'll do it
Always
Lover, line up and yeah
The road to you is long and i've been on it for a while
And a need a warm embrace
I'll take a break
And say i want to leave you awake
Always
I feel tired...
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Will you wait for me?
My love is like a dim light
Flicker desperately to keep a hope
And there you are in front of me
Offering a hand to warm the cold
Will you wait for me?
Till I’m falling in love again
Because I don’t want to hurt you
With a false love
Will you wait for me?
Till I forget my other love
That has broken my heart
And lose my faith to move forward
My love is like a lost kite
Blown by merciless wind far far away
And there you are standing so strong
Show me a harbor when I search the direction
How long will you wait for me?
Till I’m falling in love to you
Because I never want to hurt you
With an empty hope
Do you really want to wait for me?
When the sound of distant thunder approach me
With dark cloud ready to strike hard rain
And I don’t know where to run away
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Light Beckons Her
LIGHT BECKONS HER
Light beckons her
She that travailed much
Light beckons her
She that tasted life’s test in earnest
Light beckons her
She that suffered much in her years
Light beckons her
She that passed her test in flying colours
Light beckons her
She that claims all my heart’s honours
Light beckons her
She that travailed much now has repose
Light beckons her
See how the angels cuddle her in warm embrace
Light beckons her
Now rest is yours! Rest Caroline! Rest Adelanke!
For Light beckons you!
No noise with light but silence, sweet silence.
Therefore enjoy your rest, Adelanke
As Light beckons you!
Jude Adebosoye Ogunade
This poem was written on hearing the death of my mother.
poem by Jude Ogunade
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Slumber Songs
I
Sleep, little eyes
That brim with childish tears amid thy play,
Be comforted! No grief of night can weigh
Against the joys that throng thy coming day.
Sleep, little heart!
There is no place in Slumberland for tears:
Life soon enough will bring its chilling fears
And sorrows that will dim the after years.
Sleep, little heart!
II
Ah, little eyes
Dead blossoms of a springtime long ago,
That life's storm crushed and left to lie below
The benediction of the falling snow!
Sleep, little heart
That ceased so long ago its frantic beat!
The years that come and go with silent feet
Have naught to tell save this -- that rest is sweet.
Dear little heart.
poem by John McCrae
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Beyond
MY heart it lies beyond, dear,
In the land of the setting day,
Where the whispers are soft and fond, dear,
Of the voices that pass away;
And oft, when the night is falling,
5
And a calm is on the sea,
I fancy I hear them calling
rom that far-off land for me.
It is only idle dreaming,
But the dream is full of rest,
10
And up where that glory is streaming,
From the gates of the golden west,
I wander away in spirit,
With a mingled joy and pain,
Till I almost seem to inherit
15
The sweet dead past again.
I see the old dear faces,
I greet them hand to hand;
But sadly too, for the places
Seem strange in that curious land;
20
Till a new light breaks, and all other
Grows dim to my streaming eyes;
For a son has found his mother
In the depths of the throbbing skies.
Yes, my heart it lies beyond, dear,
25
Where that sun is burning low,
And were you not so fond, dear,
I might perhaps—but no!
Are you weary already with walking?
And tears! What tears, dear, too!
30
How selfish of me to be talking,
My darling, in this way to you!
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Goodnight My Friend
Goodnight my sun
Goodnight my friend
Rest your soul at this
Long days end
The fire inside
Will warm our night
And daddys arms will
Hold you tight
Dream of summer skies
Sunset is bound to each sunrise
Rest is your first right
My friend goodnight
This world spinning
Time always winning
The silver chains keep thinning and
This is just your beginning
Sleep my friend
At last be free
No we wont forget
Our merriest melody
Gone to another place
Of carousel rides round an angels face
Im sure wed both laugh at the sight
My friend goodnight
song performed by by Vertical Horizon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Long Vacation
To Amy Wainwright
This is the time the boys come home from school,
Filling the house with gay and happy noise,
Never at rest from morn till evening cool --
All the roads of the world bring home the boys.
This is the time -- but still they are not come;
The mothers stand in the doorway listening long;
Long, long they shall wait ere the boys come home.
Where do they tarry, the dear, the light-heart throng?
Their feet are heavy as lead and deep their rest.
The mothers watch the road till set of sun;
But nevermore the birds fly back to the nest.
The roads of the world run Heavenward every one.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Duel Aspect
For every debit there is a credit,
Someone’s loss is else ones' profit,
One can sell if someone purchase,
New thing comes if existing erased.
When one facet is up other is down,
Back is dark, on front light is thrown,
As echo you will get what you confer
Same will come back, rage or love.
You like some one and other wont'
One may like you but other may not.
You do acts knowing your position
It may cause others else situation.
One’s pleasure may be others' fret
One's selfish act may others upset.
If night, waiting for morning to set
If it is day wait for night, to have rest.
To gain wealth take risk and pain
Sacrifice wealth for comfort, then.
How can you gain if don't take pain
Notice, what you miss for the gain.
If one can understand both facets
Balance situation to decide the best.
(c) S.D.Tiwari
email [email protected]
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Farewell! -- But Whenever You Welcome the Hour
Farewell! but whenever you welcome the hour
That awakens the night-song of mirth in your bower,
Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too,
And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you.
His griefs may return, not a hope may remain
Of the few that have brighten'd his pathway of pain,
But he ne'er will forget the short vision, that threw
Its enchantment around him, while lingering with you.
And still on that evening, when pleasure fills up
To the highest top sparkle each heart and each cup,
Where'er my path lies, be it gloomy or bright,
My soul, happy friends, shall be with you that night;
Shall join in your revels, your sports, and your wiles,
And return to me, beaming all o'er with your smiles --
Too blest, if it tells me that, 'mid the gay cheer,
Some kind voice has murmur'd, "I wish he were here!"
Let Fate do her worst, there are relics of joy,
Bright dreams of the past, which she cannot destroy;
Which come in the night-time of sorrow and care,
And bring back the features that joy used to wear.
Long, long be my heart with such memories fill'd!
Like the vase, in which roses have once been distill'd --
You may break, you may shatter the vase, if you will,
But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.
poem by Thomas Moore
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The Price to Peace
LONG since I taught my spirit to obey
The Sage's great commandment - to forget
And so to lose life's bitterness and fret
And taste its sweetness; and I went my way
Eluding joy and sorrow, grave and gay,
And lived exempt, my being always set
Upon the striking hour, without regret,
Secure, refreshed, remote from yesterday.
But oh my friend, my love, my very dear,
My practised wisdom is a curse to me;
I do forget, and when you are not near
It is, by Heaven, as if you ceased to be;
And I would buy with agony and fear
One hour, one little hour of memory.
poem by Alice Duer Miller
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Hard snow
The surface was shining with glow
As the sun was lazy and very slow
It had no impact on ground
Everything looked beautiful and sound
It was all white and clad with snow
I have come very close to know
It has steel like quality and stiffness
Though very beautiful with smoothness
Every season there is fresh snowfall
It is beautiful response to the seasonal call
Change over in every season with fresh impetus
Life to be tested in different way thus
We pick many good things from nature
Snow may melt and that is fact for sure
It is natural to be submissive and change
As per environment and manage
I find it exactly the opposite
With some of the things very near in sight
I too find it quite natural with their non performance
It stays same and doe4s not change even at once
Nature doesn’t change so are the human
Same can be seen with man and woman
“We will not change at what we are and what should be”
The originality should not be lost to be looked very free
All natural process to take place in destined hour
Snow to melt, evaporate and form the cloud to pour
Again to come down on earth and repeat the cycle
There is constant change and definitely makes full circle
I wondered at the snow with concealed mildness
Though very hard outer space but no wilderness
May be the same with human nature only to reflect kindness
Retaining same hardness but presenting it with fineness
I want the snow to melt and flood the rivers
Rush with madness to touch the shores
What else remains to be seen?
I am at receiving end and very keen
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Long Legged Girl
(words & music by mcfarland - scott)
All right
I've been thumbin' rides travellin' light
Walked the streets till past midnight
Trampin' roads, trails and lanes
Scaling cliffs fields and plains
Searchin' till the early dawn
For that long legged girl with the short dress on
Riding trucks, bikes and skis
Sailing lakes and brooks and seas
Driving wagons, cars and jeeps
Walking stilts in ten foot leaps
Searchin' till the early dawn
For that long legged girl with the short dress on
And everywhere i go she's been and gone
She's fine, it's just too bad she's the travellin' kind
So fine, i just can't rest till i make her mine
I've been from maine to tennessee, mexico from wahkiki
Rain or shine, sleet or snow
Searchin' high, searchin' low
Everything depends upon
That long legged girl with the short dress on
She's fine, it's just too bad she's the travellin' kind
So fine, i just can't rest till i make her mine
I've been from maine to tennessee, mexico from wahkiki
Rain or shine, sleet or snow
Searchin' high, searchin' low
Everything depends upon
That long legged girl with the short dress on
The long legged girl with the short dress on
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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