Emblems of Love
She
ONLY to be twin elements of joy
In this extravagance of Being, Love,
Were our divided natures shaped in twain;
And to this hour the whole world must consent.
Is it not very marvellous, our lives
Can only come to this out of a long
Strange sundering, with the years of the world between us?
He
Shall life do more than God? for hath not God
Striven with himself, when into known delight
His unaccomplisht joy he would put forth,—
This mystery of a world sign of his striving?
Else wherefore this, a thing to break the mind
With labouring in the wonder of it, that here
Being—the world and we—is suffered to be!—
But, lying on thy breast one notable day,
Sudden exceeding agony of love
Made my mind a trance of infinite knowledge.
I was not: yet I saw the will of God
As light unfashion’d, unendurable flame,
Interminable, not to be supposed;
And there was no more creature except light,—
The dreadful burning of the lonely God’s
Unutter’d joy. And then, past telling, came
Shuddering and division in the light:
Therein, like trembling, was desire to know
Its own perfect beauty; and it became
A cloven fire, a double flaming, each
Adorable to each; against itself
Waging a burning love, which was the world;—
A moment satisfied in that love-strife
I knew the world!—And when I fell from there,
Then knew I also what this life would do
In being twin,—in being man and woman!
For it would do even as its endless Master,
Making the world, had done; yea, with itself
Would strive, and for the strife would into sex
Be cloven, double burning, made thereby
Desirable to itself. Contrivèd joy
Is sex in life; and by no other thing
Than by a perfect sundering, could life
Change the dark stream of unappointed joy
To perfect praise of itself, the glee that loves
And worships its own Being. This is ours!
Yet only for that we have been so long
Sundered desire: thence is our life all praise.—
But we, well knowing by our strength of joy
There is no sundering more, how far we love
From those sad lives that know a half-love only,
Alone thereby knowing themselves for ever
Sealed in division of love, and therefore made
To pour their strength always into their love’s
Fierceness, as green wood bleeds its hissing sap
Into red heat of a fire! Not so do we:
The cloven anger, life, hath left to wage
Its flame against itself, here turned to one
Self-adoration.—Ah, what comes of this?
The joy falters a moment, with closed wings
Wearying in its upward journey, ere
Again it goes on high, bearing its song,
Its delight breathing and its vigour beating
The highest height of the air above the world.
She
What hast thou done to me!—I would have soul,
Before I knew thee, Love, a captive held
By flesh. Now, inly delighted with desire,
My body knows itself to be nought else
But thy heart’s worship of me; and my soul
Therein is sunlight held by warm gold air.
Nay, all my body is become a song
Upon the breath of spirit, a love-song.
He
And mine is all like one rapt faculty,
As it were listening to the love in thee,
My whole mortality trembling to take
Thy body like heard singing of thy spirit.
She
Surely by this, Beloved, we must know
Our love is perfect here,—that not as holds
The common dullard thought, we are things lost
In an amazement that is all unware;
But wonderfully knowing what we are!
Lo, now that body is the song whereof
Spirit is mood, knoweth not our delight?
Knoweth not beautifully now our love,
That Life, here to this festival bid come
Clad in his splendour of worldly day and night,
Filled and empower’d by heavenly lust, is all
The glad imagination of the Spirit?
He
Were it not so, Love could not be at all:
Nought could be, but a yearning to fulfil
Desire of beauty, by vain reaching forth
Of sense to hold and understand the vision
Made by impassion’d body,—vision of thee!
But music mixt with music are, in love,
Bodily senses; and as flame hath light,
Spirit this nature hath imagined round it,
No way concealed therein, when love comes near,
Nor in the perfect wedding of desires
Suffering any hindrance.
She
Ah, but now,
Now am I given love’s eternal secret!
Yea, thou and I who speak, are but the joy
Of our for ever mated spirits; but now
The wisdom of my gladness even through Spirit
Looks, divinely elate. Who hath for joy
Our Spirits? Who hath imagined them
Round him in fashion’d radiance of desire,
As into light of these exulting bodies
Flaming Spirit is uttered?
He
Yea, here the end
Of love’s astonishment! Now know we Spirit,
And Who, for ease of joy, contriveth Spirit.
Now all life’s loveliness and power we have
Dissolved in this one moment, and our burning
Carries all shining upward, till in us
Life is not life, but the desire of God,
Himself desiring and himself accepting.
Now what was prophecy in us is made
Fulfilment: we are the hour and we are the joy,
We in our marvellousness of single knowledge,
Of Spirit breaking down the room of fate
And drawing into his light the greeting fire
Of God,—God known in ecstasy of love
Wedding himself to utterance of himself
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
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Related quotes
The Candle of the Lord
“The spirit of man is the candle of the Lord.”
“The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of
God.”
Our spirit—ay, our own!—the tree whose fruits
Have never fail'd—the sign upon the door
'Twixt us and God's intelligent dumb brutes,
That parts us evermore!
Our spirit—last, best gift—still unbereft
Of treasures stored in Eden's happy land;
One fragment of the human, as it left
The Divine Maker's hand.
That seal of our high birth He did allow
Toea unharm'd the sin and woe and strife;
That remnant of our godhead—wanting now
Only the “breath of life.”
Only the breath of life, whereby the Lord
Made us to be His equals, fit to fill
His throne—our free wills brought into accord
With His own sovereign will.
Our spirit—not the feeble soul which came
With our dishonour'd state and its new needs;
And not the feebler heart of sin and shame,
That daily breaks and bleeds.
Our spirit—our unshatter'd lamp—still ours—
Fill'd with the heavenly essence, as of yore,—
To bear a light, to light the midnight hours,
And light the wreck to shore.
Ay, 'tis the same—the same! It hath not shared
The mutilation and the curse and blight;
When the destruction fell, the lamp was spared—
Only deprived of Light.
O God! and hath it ever ceased to grope
For light, and yearn and cry for light to come?
In blackest gloom, ere revelation spoke,
While yet the Christ was dumb,
Thou knowest it search'd for every wandering ray,
And never wearied of the weary quest;
And fed and fenced and treasured, day by day,
A glimmer in its breast.
O holy Dove! O Grace! O Love! come down—
Our spirit with Thy perfect light inspire!
Circle each candle with its flaming crown,
Its cloven tongue of fire!
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Hermaphroditus
I.
LIFT UP thy lips, turn round, look back for love,
Blind love that comes by night and casts out rest;
Of all things tired thy lips look weariest,
Save the long smile that they are wearied of.
Ah sweet, albeit no love be sweet enough,
Choose of two loves and cleave unto the best;
Two loves at either blossom of thy breast
Strive until one be under and one above.
Their breath is fire upon the amorous air,
Fire in thine eyes and where thy lips suspire:
And whosoever hath seen thee, being so fair,
Two things turn all his life and blood to fire;
A strong desire begot on great despair,
A great despair cast out by strong desire.
II.
Where between sleep and life some brief space is,
With love like gold bound round about the head,
Sex to sweet sex with lips and limbs is wed,
Turning the fruitful feud of hers and his
To the waste wedlock of a sterile kiss;
Yet from them something like as fire is shed
That shall not be assuaged till death be dead,
Though neither life nor sleep can find out this.
Love made himself of flesh that perisheth
A pleasure-house for all the loves his kin;
But on the one side sat a man like death,
And on the other a woman sat like sin.
So with veiled eyes and sobs between his breath
Love turned himself and would not enter in.
III.
Love, is it love or sleep or shadow or light
That lies between thine eyelids and thine eyes?
Like a flower laid upon a flower it lies,
Or like the night’s dew laid upon the night.
Love stands upon thy left hand and thy right,
Yet by no sunset and by no moonrise
Shall make thee man and ease a woman’s sighs,
Or make thee woman for a man’s delight.
To what strange end hath some strange god made fair
The double blossom of two fruitless flowers?
Hid love in all the folds of all thy hair,
Fed thee on summers, watered thee with showers,
Given all the gold that all the seasons wear
To thee that art a thing of barren hours?
IV.
Yea, love, I see; it is not love but fear.
Nay, sweet, it is not fear but love, I know;
Or wherefore should thy body’s blossom blow
So sweetly, or thine eyelids leave so clear
Thy gracious eyes that never made a tear—
Though for their love our tears like blood should flow,
Though love and life and death should come and go,
So dreadful, so desirable, so dear?
Yea, sweet, I know; I saw in what swift wise
Beneath the woman’s and the water’s kiss
Thy moist limbs melted into Salmacis,
And the large light turned tender in thine eyes,
And all thy boy’s breath softened into sighs;
But Love being blind, how should he know of this?
Au Musée du Louvre, Mars 1863.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Love said.. a paraphrase of a study group on Love
Love said,
I made you
Your body was conceived in love.
Your mind was conceived in love.
Your spirit was conceived in love.
I made your body to stand,
to walk, to dance, to make love
in love.
I made your senses
to touch love, to taste love,
to see love, to find space in love,
to hear love, everywhere
for I made everywhere
I made your mind
to know love’s substance
which no alteration finds,
to know the flow of love,
the fire of love, love in the air,
to hear what love speaks;
to know love in your reason,
to reason love;
to know why love is everywhere;
to know how to find love in hate;
to know why justice, mercy, grace, are love;
to know love in surrender;
to know how love turns faith to love;
to know love’s play in love’s creation;
to know that love is always now;
to know love's neighbour is yourself;
and when least visible,
to know love frees and balances;
to know why all seek love.
I made your spirit and your heart,
I made your very self
as every self
to be Myself; to show Myself;
Love said
I made you.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Bible in Poetry: 1 John 4
Do not believe in all spirits;
Find out if they have come from God;
False prophets have come to the world;
But how can you ascertain them?
A spirit that acknowledges
That Jesus came in flesh from God,
Is from God, Almighty Father;
And that which says that Christ isn’t Lord,
Is spirit of the antichrist,
Which you have heard is coming now,
And has already entered world.
You are from God too, dear children;
You’ve overcome the bad spirits;
The one in you is greater than
The one found in the world by man;
They’re from the world and speak like-wise;
The world listens as they entice;
Whoev’r knows God, listens to us,
As we are also from same God;
Whoever isn’t from God does not,
Then listen to us anytime.
This is the way to recognize,
The true spirit from that, that’s false!
God’s Love and Ours:
Dear friends, lets love one another,
As love comes from God the Father;
The ones who love are born of God,
For God is love and love knows God.
God showed His love for all of us,
By sending His one Son Jesus,
Into the world, die for our sins,
Like Lamb of God for sacrifice;
So that, we may then live through Him.
God’s love is not because we loved
Him, but He loved man as beloved;
We ought to love one another,
As God loved us like our Father;
No one has ev’r seen God as yet,
But if we love one another,
God will reside in us forev’r!
We live in Him and He in us,
As He has given His spirit;
We testify we’ve seen the Son,
Whom Father sent as world’s Savior;
If you acknowledge Son Of God,
God lives in him and he in God;
Therefore we know God’s love for us.
As God is love, whoever loves,
Then lives in God and God in Him;
Thus, love is made wholesome in us;
We’ll stand in confidence ‘fore God,
On Judgment-Day as we’re like Him.
There is no need for fear in love,
For, perfect love drives out all fear;
Fear comes when we await God’s rod;
Imperfect is the love with fear.
God loved us first and then we love;
The one who says, ‘I love God but
Hate my brother is a liar! ’
He who does not love his brother,
Although he has seen him so well,
Cannot love God, the unseen one;
God has given this commandment:
‘Whoev’r loves God, loves his brethren.’
poem by John Celes
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Song
Rarely, rarely comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou art fled away.
How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not.
As a lizard with the shade
Of a trembling leaf,
Thou with sorrow art dismayed;
Even the sighs of grief
Reproach thee, that thou art not near,
And reproach thou wilt not her.
Let me set my mournful ditty
To a merry measure;--
Thou wilt never come for pity,
Thou wilt come for pleasure;
Pity then will cut away
Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
I love all that thou lovest,
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves dressed,
And the starry night;
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born.
I love snow and all the forms
Of the radiant frost;
I love waves, and winds, and storms,
Everything almost
Which is Nature's, and may be
Untainted by man's misery.
I love tranquil solitude,
And such society
As is quiet, wise, and good;
Between thee and me
What difference? but thou dost possess
The things I seek, not love them less.
I love Love--though he has wings,
And like light can flee,
But above all other things,
Spirit, I love thee--
Thou art love and life! O come!
Make once more my heart thy home!
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Song: Rarely, rarely, comest thou
Rarely, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou are fled away.
How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not.
As a lizard with the shade
Of a trembling leaf,
Thou with sorrow art dismay'd;
Even the sighs of grief
Reproach thee, that thou art not near,
And reproach thou wilt not hear.
Let me set my mournful ditty
To a merry measure;
Thou wilt never come for pity,
Thou wilt come for pleasure;
Pity then will cut away
Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
I love all that thou lovest,
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves dress'd,
And the starry night;
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born.
I love snow, and all the forms
Of the radiant frost;
I love waves, and winds, and storms,
Everything almost
Which is Nature's, and may be
Untainted by man's misery.
I love tranquil solitude,
And such society
As is quiet, wise, and good;
Between thee and me
What difference? but thou dost possess
The things I seek, not love them less.
I love Love--though he has wings,
And like light can flee,
But above all other things,
Spirit, I love thee--
Thou art love and life! Oh come,
Make once more my heart thy home.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The Great Fires
Love is apart from all things.
Desire and excitement are nothing beside it.
It is not the body that finds love.
What leads us there is the body.
What is not love provokes it.
What is not love quenches it.
Love lays hold of everything we know.
The passions which are called love
also change everything to a newness
at first. Passion is clearly the path
but does not bring us to love.
It opens the castle of our spirit
so that we might find the love which is
a mystery hidden there.
Love is one of many great fires.
Passion is a fire made of many woods,
each of which gives off its special odor
so we can know the many kinds
that are not love. Passion is the paper
and twigs that kindle the flames
but cannot sustain them. Desire perishes
because it tries to be love.
Love is eaten away by appetite.
Love does not last, but it is different
from the passions that do not last.
Love lasts by not lasting.
Isaiah said each man walks in his own fire
for his sins. Love allows us to walk
in the sweet music of our particular heart.
poem by Jack Gilbert
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Invocation
Rarely, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou art fled away.
How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not.
As a lizard with the shade
Of a trembling leaf,
Thou with sorrow art dismayed;
Even the sighs of grief
Reproach thee, that thou art not near,
And reproach thou wilt not hear.
Let me set my mournful ditty
To a merry measure;
Thou wilt never come for pity,
Thou wilt come for pleasure; -
Pity then will cut away
Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
I love all that thou lovest,
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves dressed,
And the starry night;
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born.
I love snow and all the forms
Of the radiant frost;
I love waves, and winds, and storms,
Everything almost
Which is Nature's, and may be
Untainted by man's misery.
I love tranquil solitude,
And such society
As is quiet, wise, and good: -
Between thee and me
What diff'rence? but thou dost possess
The things I seek, not love them less.
I love Love -though he has wings,
And like light can flee,
But above all other things,
Spirit, I love thee -
Thou art love and life! O come!
Make once more my heart thy home!
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Adelaide Ironside
Knowest thou now, O Love! Oh pure from the death of thy summer of sweetness!
Seest thou now, O new-born Delight of the Ransomed and Free!
We have gathered the flower for the fruit; we have hastened the hour of thy meetness;
For thou wert sealed unto us, and thine Angel hath waited for thee.
Not in disdain, O Love! O Sweet! of desires that are earthly and mortal,
Not in the scorn of thine Art, whose beginning and end is Divine,
So soon have we borne thee asleep through the glow of the uttermost portal,
But in the ruth of high souls that have travelled with longings like thine.
Nothing is lost, O Love! O mine! and thy seemingly broken endeavour
Here re-appeareth, transfigured as thou; yet the Art of thy youth;
And the light of the Spirit of Beauty is on it for ever and ever;
For Art is the garment of Praise, and the broidered apparel of Truth.
Seest thou now, O Love! how Art, in a way to mortality nameless,
Liveth again, soul-informed, love-sustained, self-completing, for aye?
How thy heart's purpose was good, and the dream of thy maidenhood blameless,—
How thy fair dawn is fulfilled in the light of ineffable day?
Seest thou now, O Love! O Fair! how the high spiritlife is Art regnant—
Art become bliss, and harmonious response to the Infinite Will?
Fused and transfused into Love, with the germs of eternity pregnant—
Crowned as the law of the beauty of Holiness; throned, yet Art still?
Not then in vain, O Love! thy dawn, nor the dream of thy holy ambition;
Never a trace of thy finger hath witnessed for Beauty in vain;
In the bloom of the noon of thine ardour thy soul became fair for fruition;
We have smitten the green into gold but to spare thee the harvest of pain.
Nothing that came from thy hand, O Love, made void, cut off, evanescent,—
From the infantile essay that strove with the weapon of outline alone,
To the Angels thou lovedst to portray with luminous plumes iridescent,
Till thy soul drew so near unto us that we took thee for one of our own.
Now may'st thou trace, O Heart! Sweet Heart! from on high all the way I have led
thee,
From the youth of a world in the Seas of the South to unperishing Rome;
For the lure of thy following soul was the sheen of my wings that o'erspread thee,
Flushing with reflex of glory the path of thy pilgrimage—home.
By the way of the age of the world I have chosen to lead thee to glory;
Of the wine of the might of the world have I given thee to drink ere thou slept;
Where the Masters have walked I have laid thee, ensphered with the darlings of
story;
I have waked thee a perfected spirit; matured, yet thine innocence kept.
There, too, I led thee to feed thee with prescience and keen imitation
Of the art-adjuvant Grace that hath given thee, a love-gift, to me;
By the work of my hands did I wake in thee foretaste of Transfiguration,—
For thine Angel once wrought upon earth as thou; and his work thou didst see.
Now is thy spirit, O Love, in mine. In thy heart I behold thou dost know me.
I looked for thy glad recognition; no converse of aliens is this;
Oft when thy longings went upward, thy soul, like a mirror below me,
Caught my own loveliest visions in shapes of Elysian bliss.
Name me not now, O Love! O mine! for the name of my days of wayfaring
Still hath the note of a fevered desire, and an echo of pain.
Come thou, O Gift of long hope, to the home of thine Angel's preparing!
There I shall show thee the mercy of God, and the things that remain.
poem by James Brunton Stephens
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My Delight and Thy Delight
My delight and thy delight
Walking, like two angels white,
In the gardens of the night:
My desire and thy desire
Twining to a tongue of fire,
Leaping live, and laughing higher:
Thro' the everlasting strife
In the mystery of life.
Love, from whom the world begun,
Hath the secret of the sun.
Love can tell, and love alone,
Whence the million stars were strewn,
Why each atom knows its own,
How, in spite of woe and death,
Gay is life, and sweet is breath:
This he taught us, this we knew,
Happy in his science true,
Hand in hand as we stood
'Neath the shadows of the wood,
Heart to heart as we lay
In the dawning of the day.
poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
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Armand Barbes
Fire out of heaven, a flower of perfect fire,
That where the roots of life are had its root
And where the fruits of time are brought forth fruit;
A faith made flesh, a visible desire,
That heard the yet unbreathing years respire
And speech break forth of centuries that sit mute
Beyond all feebler footprint of pursuit;
That touched the highest of hope, and went up higher;
A heart love-wounded whereto love was law,
A soul reproachless without fear or flaw,
A shining spirit without shadow of shame,
A memory made of all men's love and awe;
Being disembodied, so thou be the same,
What need, O soul, to sign thee with thy name?
All woes of all men sat upon thy soul
And all their wrongs were heavy on thy head;
With all their wounds thy heart was pierced and bled,
And in thy spirit as in a mourning scroll
The world's huge sorrows were inscribed by roll,
All theirs on earth who serve and faint for bread,
All banished men's, all theirs in prison dead,
Thy love had heart and sword-hand for the whole.
"This was my day of glory," didst thou say,
When, by the scaffold thou hadst hope to climb
For thy faith's sake, they brought thee respite; "Nay,
I shall not die then, I have missed my day."
O hero, O our help, O head sublime,
Thy day shall be commensurate with time.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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My Secret. (From The French Of Felix Arvers)
My soul its secret hath, my life too hath its mystery,
A love eternal in a moment's space conceived;
Hopeless the evil is, I have not told its history,
And she who was the cause nor knew it nor believed.
Alas! I shall have passed close by her unperceived,
For ever at her side and yet for ever lonely,
I shall unto the end have made life's journey, only
Daring to ask for nought, and having nought received.
For her, though God hath made her gentle and endearing,
She will go on her way distraught and without hearing
These murmurings of love that round her steps ascend,
Piously faithful still unto her austere duty,
Will say, when she shall read these lines full of her beauty,
Who can this woman be? and will not comprehend.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Body Capture
Words will fail here
but my touch will not;
it moves from surface
to deep within.
Mere sentiment too,
is not enough
when Souls Speak
and the body gives
all its got-
willingly and involuntarily;
you know what I mean.
Only once or twice in all of life
does this fire ignite
all the rest is pursuit
of re-occurances.
Now let's end that futile pursuit
and have Release Soul-Strip
come direct
even after touch is ceased;
for to know all is to understand
touch is first
but not the last.
What transpires inside Sheer Desire
is Surrender Plus Exploding Need,
trembling inside Love's Flaming Pyre.
So let this flame
burn, cackle like fire wood,
trembling lurches;
body-fire
which is the Soul's way of saying
'I love you best.'
Mind, Heart and Spirit
agree haltingly
take us both
smells, scents, glistening sweats
to where
we both
have never been.
This is what
life's goals really promise
after Love even,
after beautiful romance, love and sentiment
after every precious word
these all lack meaning
if there is no body-capture
deep within
and trembling
surrender
willingly given
and received.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Sonnet XLIX: Thou Leaden Brain
Thou leaden brain, which censur'st what I write,
And say'st my lines be dull and do not move,
I marvel not thou feel'st not my delight,
Which never felt'st my fiery touch of love.
But thou, whose pen hath like a pack-horse serv'd,
Whose stomach unto gall hath turn'd thy food,
Whose senses, like poor prisoners, hunger-starv'd,
Whose grief hath parch'd thy body, dried thy blood,
Thou which hast scorned life and hated death,
And in a moment mad, sober, glad, and sorry,
Thou which hast bann'd thy thoughts and curs'd thy breath
With thousand plagues, more than in Purgatory,
Thou thus whose spirit Love in his fire refines,
Come thou, and read, admire, applaud my lines.
poem by Michael Drayton
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Hymn to Love
We are thine, O Love, being in thee and made of thee,
As théou, Léove, were the déep thought
And we the speech of the thought; yea, spoken are we,
Thy fires of thought out-spoken:
But burn’d not through us thy imagining
Like fiérce méood in a séong céaught,
We were as clamour’d words a fool may fling,
Loose words, of meaning broken.
For what more like the brainless speech of a fool,—
The lives travelling dark fears,
And as a boy throws pebbles in a pool
Thrown down abysmal places?
Hazardous are the stars, yet is our birth
And our journeying time theirs;
As words of air, life makes of starry earth
Sweet soul-delighted faces;
As voices are we in the worldly wind;
The great wind of the world’s fate
Is turn’d, as air to a shapen sound, to mind
And marvellous desires.
But not in the world as voices storm-shatter’d,
Not borne down by the wind’s weight;
The rushing time rings with our splendid word
Like darkness fill’d with fires.
For Love doth use us for a sound of song,
And Love’s meaning our life wields,
Making our souls like syllables to throng
His tunes of exultation.
Down the blind speed of a fatal world we fly,
As rain blown along earth’s fields;
Yet are we god-desiring liturgy,
Sung joys of adoration;
Yea, made of chance and all a labouring strife,
We go charged with a strong flame;
For as a language Love hath seized on life
His burning heart to story.
Yea, Love, we are thine, the liturgy of thee,
Thy thought’s golden and glad name,
The mortal conscience of immortal glee,
Love’s zeal in Love’s own glory.
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Spirit Of Fire In The Water
Light, celebrated in the flame
The heat burning through the shine
Warm kiss of the waving touch
Comfy, lean on the surfaces
Embodied as the heat, spirit of fire
Enliven small body with desires
Changed when it feed with anger
Growing bigger, burning hearts of other
Cursed touches left to be ashes, gray color
Minutes in reigning power
Now the fire goes down
Gone, when the sky cries
Dropping the purest water
Silent the fire, suppressed the anger
Somehow when extinction of warm
Welcoming the rise of arrogant
Water empowered with freezing touch
Frozen as snow, hot turn cold
When power flaming ego in the fire,
As also arrogant freezing the water
Heat left, diffused with miracles
Till there's nothing for each other
When tolerate not in heart of lovers
Spirit of fire, burning in the sun
Kissed the land sealed with heat warm
Melt the icy heart, sent by celebrated sunlight
The snow white in the winter alive again
Liquid as freedom, ice captured the warm
Back to flow through the river it goes
A love shared between fire and water
Two bodies of untouchable
Unites into one shared kiss
Preserve the heat into modesty
Warming when it's too cold
Cooling when it's too hot
Tolerate of two bodies
water and fire in a bond of heat
Spirit of fire swim in the heart of water
Promised harmony, keep warm in the winter
Bringing cold refreshing in this summer
Ego of each in such altered flow spirit tendency
Create a world of respect and tolerate
When two show powers holding together
Seal cold to the fire, and flame fire to the ice
Burning love in frozen hearts
Living in warm ice forever after
As spirit of fire In the water
poem by Unwritten Soul
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Galadriel
My love is turning.
Like a wheel of fire she burns her way.
My love is burning.
She's a light to guide me through the fray.
Galadriel, spirit of starlight.
Eagle and dove gave birth to thee.
Galadriel, spirit of starlight.
You are my love and earth to me, my
Love and earth to me.
My love is seeing.
Through unabiased eyes she reads the signs.
My love is searching.
For new life somewhere she's bound to find.
Galadriel, spirit of starlight.
Eagle and dove give birth to thee.
Galadriel, spirit of starlight.
You are my love and earth to me.
My love and earth to me.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Light Within
There’s a light that burns within you
that illuminates your soul
They say its always been there
Steady bright and in control
It’s the guiding spirit that drives you
As you live your life each day
Shining a light on the darkest paths
As you walk along the way
It’s the light outside the shadows
A lonely life can cast
But if you look to feel it
The darkness will not last
There’s a light of love within you
That illuminates your face
a gentle warmth that surrounds you
When your heart is in that place
The brightness of the spirit
And all the love you share
Embracing it with a passion
Nurturing it with care
Within the light is life’s meaning
Things close to the heart believed
A summation of your life time
And all things you perceived
Live the life within you
Let the light shine through
Sharing it with others
embraced by love so true
the light that burns within you
the warmth of life’s desire
let it shine on brightly
true keeper of the fire
poem by William Lindenmuth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ride A Black Swan
A black swan rode me into my place of destiny
To love, to feel so madly
Stubborn to disagree
With people who think that life is just a memory
To be denied
Ill take this picture for ages
Of just you and i
As the world goes round
Its got me thinking
That the things I want
Just keep me sinking down
A white horse picks my dreams up
To take my hopes to god
My prayers have nestled brightly
To dim my sense of awe
I want you to be someone I cant deny
A house of fire
I want you to be something I realize
As the world goes round
Its got me thinking
That the things I want
Just keep me sinking down
As the world goes round
Its got me thinking
That the things I want
Will keep me sinking down
Remove my spirit from darkness
Love become my heaven
As the world goes round with our love
I want you to be my message
I want you to be my friend
I want you to be that answer
An answer I must defend
I want us to solve our distrust of everyone
And trust in god
I want us to solve our distrust of who we are
As the world goes round
Its got me thinking
That the things I want
Just keep me sinking down
As the world goes round
Its got me thinking
That the things I want
Just keep me sinking down
As the world goes round with our love
As the world goes round with our love
Remove my spirit from darkness
Love become my heaven
Remove my spirit from darkness
Love become my heaven
Remove my spirit from darkness
Love become my heaven
As the world goes round with our love
As the world goes round with our love
song performed by by Zwan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rid A Black Swan
a black swan rode me into my place of destiny
to love, to feel so madly
stubborn to disagree
with people who think that life is just a memory
to be denied
i'll take this picture for ages
of just you and i
as the world goes 'round
it's got me thinking
that the things i want
just keep me sinking down
a white horse picks my dreams up
to take my hopes to god
my prayers have nestled brightly
to dim my sense of awe
i want you to be someone i can't deny
a house of fire
i want you to be something i realize
as the world goes 'round
it's got me thinking
that the things i want
just keep me sinking down
as the world goes 'round
it's got me thinking
that the things i want
will keep me sinking down
remove my spirit from darkness
love become my heaven
as the world goes 'round with our love
i want you to be my message
i want you to be my friend
i want you to be that answer
an answer i must defend
i want us to solve our distrust of everyone
and trust in god
i want us to solve our distrust of who we are
as the world goes 'round
it's got me thinking
that the things i want
just keep me sinking down
as the world goes 'round
it's got me thinking
that the things i want
just keep me sinking down
as the world goes 'round with our love
as the world goes 'round with our love
remove my spirit from darkness
love become my heaven
remove my spirit from darkness
love become my heaven
remove my spirit from darkness
love become my heaven
as the world goes 'round with our love
as the world goes 'round with our love
song performed by by Zwan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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