Napoleon III
His silent spirit from the place
Slid forth unseen; amid the throng
Of those whose love outlived disgrace,
Whose fealty to the last was strong.
'Midst homage, 'neath Fate's adverse reign,
Paid to the star shorn of its rays,
How passed the Exile? Lingering fain,
As never once in prouder days?
The Mother and the Child were there,
Discrowned and disinherited!
No hand henceforth to right the heir;
New griefs to bow the golden head.
How passed Napoleon? Prizing more,
Old fame in camp and council won
Or fearless England's aegis, o'er
The future of her ally's son?
Gate of that World we know not yet,
What thou beheld'st who may proclaim!
Were spirit-ranks, in order set,
Haunting thy portals, as he came,
With voices murmuring, “Our life torch,
Unspent, was quenched at his behest”?
Did bygone princes fill the porch,
Bourbon, and Valois, and the rest?
How passed the soldier? Cold and stern,
'Mid weaponless reproachful ghosts,
As when he led them forth to learn
How fight the hardy German hosts?
How passed the Emperor where THEY gazed,
Once wearers of the ancient crown?
As one who knew its lustre blazed
The brighter ere he laid it down?
How passed he? brighter grows the dream!
Past yon accusing spirit-band,
Beyond the scornful Old Règime,
Another group of watchers stand!
Those hands are stretched to greet him now
That once Charlemagne's proud sceptre won;
While hastes Hortense with beaming brow,
No longer banished from her son!
poem by Mary Hannay Foott
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Related quotes
Strong Points
To perceive astounds my life of love,
Stars happen on the event of my eye.
Strong travel has passed, and torture
Is passed, and future is passed,
The past will be passed,
As time, the fifty-ninth dimension,
Shall fully tug at the strong mind,
Alien after alien entered for me.
The perception is strong, stronger for the
Points taken, a nature of strength
Is any when.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Yes I Believe
The spirit of Christmas is the spirit of love
Still there when the innocence has gone
But we have each other we laugh and we cry
The cares of the world still carry on
Yes I believe in a better world
And like the rest of us I pray
For peace on this earth and a better life
With every beautiful day
I once met a holy man who showed me the way
The road to tranquility at last
The more he was listening, the more he would say
With the tales of the days of future passed
He said "Yes I believe in a better world
And like the rest of us I try
To hold on to hope for a better life
With every day that goes by"
And if we dare to dream of Paradise unseen
It might come true
And if you stand by me
I swear with all my heart
I'll stand by you
Yes, I believe in a better world
A world where my sisters can be free
And I have a place in my brother's heart
For everybody to see
I dream of my destiny, my days in the sun
To live in the garden of our love
I search for some happiness
I search for my soul
I pray for some strength from God above
Yes, I believe in a better world
And like the rest of us, I pray
For peace on this earth and a better life
With every beautiful day
With every beautiful day.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dooms Day
Many a times
I passed through trouble
Many a times
I passed through pain
I was exploited
I was was humiliated
I was condemned
I was consumed by mystery
My wings were taken
So i couldn't fly
All i eat all day was my cry
I asked myself why
And there came a voice saying
In your affliction
Will you learn right
In your oppression
Will you rise how to fight
The sun shines at day
And stars at night
Arise and see the light
After six comes seven
I passed through hell
Before i could see heaven
I did not know that my worries
Will lead me to my haven
Many times
I passed through trouble
Many a times
I passed through pain
poem by Matt Ancient
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The Storms Have Passed
the days are getting cloudy for me,
storm clouds over my head,
so dark, i can barely see,
the storms have passed by me.
the swetness of life, has passed me by,
of my life, the storms have went,
and i look forward to when i die,
the storms have passed me by.
of the Lord, i'll meet and see,
to be with Him, ever more,
and there, i'll never need to plea
the storms have passed by me.
Farewell Matriarch of the maternal line
Farewell Matriarch of the maternal line
Saying good bye is hard to do
A farewell that she was not allowed to show you
You passed on, during the winter solstice
At the start of a lunar eclipse
Prevented from coming to your side
Stopped from answering your call in your greatest hour of need
She has cried oceans of tears, missing your guidance
No longer having your age old wisdom to heed
As the moon passed over the sun
Your life slipped slowly away
After a long battle, hard fought, bravely endured
You left this world and passed on to the next
The last encounter she experienced
You did not remember the then present
A mind once so clear and sharp
Had slowly disintegrated, broken up
Yet you still knew her by sight
You had won that stage of the fight
Only to lose a few moments later
Succumbing to the final fate that some day will befall us all
A candle will burn for you always in her window
As a reminder that your spirit will always have a home
In her heart, her memory, and in her soul
The flame a reminder of just how fragile life really is
She searches constantly for the words to say
She knows you had to be on your way
You have been released from you pain
No longer to suffer, you are at peace
She is sorry, she regrets she never got to say goodbye
Prevented by circumstances, by one so vindictive
She wants for you to know, if ever she could turn back time
She would do so in a heartbeat, to have the chance to say
The final, much needed farewell
The finality of his cold refusal
Will haunt her every time you name is mentioned
She will never forget you, and will always love you
Farewell, oh matriarch of the maternal line
May your spirit go forward and shine
Rest forever in much deserved peace
And grant her from her guilt, the much needed release
poem by Jill Ferrey
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Lord Roberts
1914
He passed in the very battle-smoke
Of the war that he had descried.
Three hundred mile of cannon spoke
When the Master-Gunner died.
He passed to the very sound of the guns;
But, before his eye grew dim,
He had seen the faces of the sons
Whose sires had served with him,
He had touched their sword-hilts and greeted
With the old sure word of praise;
And there was virtue in touch and speech
As it had been in old days.
So he dismissed them and took his rest,
And the steadfast spirit went forth
Between the adoring East and West
And the tireless guns of the North.
Clean, simple, valiant, well-beloved,
Flawless in faith and fame,
Whom neither ease nor honours moved
An hair's-breadth from his aim.
Never again the war-wise face,
The weighed and urgent word
That pleaded in the market-place-
Pleaded and was not heard!
Yet from his life a new life springs
Through all the hosts to come,
And Glory is the least of things
That follow this man home.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 40
A man was sleeping dead-drunk on the highway and the bridle of spontaneity had slipped from his hands. A hermit passed near him and considered the disgraceful condition he was in. The youth raised his head and recited: When they passed near something contemptible, they passed it kindly. When thou beholdest a sinner be concealing and meek.
Turn not thy face from a sinner, O anchorite.
Look upon him with benignity.
If I am ignoble in my actions
Pass me by like a noble fellow.
My Name Is Reckless
My name is reckless;
I’ve passed my test
so I know how to drive.
I ignore all the honking horns
as I weave through the traffic
in the sports car I bought last week.
I’m the greatest driver
you ever want to meet.
You see my name is reckless;
I’ve passed my test
so I know how to drive.
No one can beat me
as I race down roads everywhere.
The speed limit
mean nothing to me,
that for only learners
Because my name is reckless,
I’ve passed my test
so I know how to drive.
I took my mate out
for a spin to show him all I new.
We raced around the roads.
I’d driven down them before
so I knew them like the back of my hand.
My name is reckless;
I’ve passed my test
so I know how to drive.
As we raced along
an articulated lorry
was stretched across the road.
I knew I could go under it
so I told my mate to duck.
My name is reckless;
I’ve passed my test
so I know how to drive.
My mate didn’t hear me
as the music was so high
so when the roof came off so did my mate as well.
I escaped with minor injuries,
but my mate died at the scene.
They told me they were charging me
with careless driving,
but I soon told then a thing or two.
My name is reckless;
I’ve passed my test
so I know how to drive.
Unfortunately, my statement
didn’t wash with them.
The judge sent me down
for a three-year stretch.
He took away my licence
and threw it in the bin.
I protested saying.
My name is reckless;
I’ve passed my test
so I know how to drive.
poem by David Harris
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In A Windowpane
I looked into a windowpane
Last evening in a city far away
I was feelin sad and blue
I wondered then if I should really stay
Wanting someone to be with me in the light of this uncertain time
Waiting by the window for the man inside
To please make up his mind
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Never knowing never feeling anything
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
I walked along the roadway to a fountain
Where lovers come to meet
A hobo walked up to me, I could tell
He didnt have enough to eat
He said, good sir you look so kind
And though the years have stripped me to the bone
It seems I am the better man
For in this place Ive never walked alone
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Never knowing never feeling anything
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Where will you be, my friendly, when your
Telephone aint givin out no calls
And when the seasons come to haunt you
Will you still find springtime in the fall
And when youre on your island
Will you wave at every ship that passes by
And will you feed a hungry man
I thank you, sir,
Now Ill just say goodbye
Dont you be one who passed through but never saw
Never knowing never feeling anything
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
Will you live your whole life through never knowing what to do
Will you be one who passed through but never saw
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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N. P. Rogers
Rogers, will not future story
Tell thy glorious fame?
And in hues of living glory
Robe thy spotless name?
There was more than mortal seeming
In thy wondrous eye,--
Like a silv'ry star-ray gleaming
Through a liquid _sky_.
Of that angel spirit telling,
Noble, clear and bright,
In thy 'inner temple' dwelling,
Veiled from mortal sight!
Of that spirit meek and lowly,
Yet so bold and free,
In its all-absorbing, holy,
Love of Liberty.
Thou didst leave us, gentle brother,
In thy manhood's pride;
And we vainly seek another
Heart so true and tried!
Thou art dwelling with the angels
In the spirit land!
Chanting low and sweet evangels,
'Mid a seraph band.
But when Freedom's champions rally
'Gainst the despot's sway,
Then they mourn the friend and ally
That has passed away.
And when Liberty's bright banner
Waves o'er land and sea,
And is heard the loud hosanna
Of the ransomed free,--
On its silken folds, in letters
Traced with diamond bright,
Shall thy name, the foe of fetters,
Blaze in hues of light!
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Wherefore This Life
Wherefore This Life
-T.Amanyu
1, September,2008
We knew the time had come,
And the time had come, we knew,
For the grievous lords had called on us
Before on the lea had set the dew.
And I didst espy the other men go
Passing my hut and Charles’ farm too.
Through the haunts of snakes and beasts,
I watched them as they quietly did move.
‘Wherefore do ye walk’ I asked one
To be answer’d by chilly silence.
So like any other man, I from my house sprang,
And made towards the jungle dense.
We walked and walked for many days;
Still not a stain of strain dud we feel.
We passed cold nights still trudging way,
Fain forgetting our own weal.
We passed the tall thickets profound,
Where at morn beasts wild prowl.
We trod our way o’er courage and faith;
Boldly under the ogre’s growl.
Nests of dainty birds passed us,
On top of the redwoods’ high boughs;
Or rather we passed them,
In this place which no one loves.
We passed the moors and lakes immense,
And passed the birds under heaven’s eye.
We passed some blissful beasts and plants;
Thither- somewhere where one must die.
And all through my way I found,
But vain, melancholy and grief;
And then was it that I fathomed my way-
Towards a battlefield… that of life.
The battle began- the battle of life.
With no weapons, the halcyon war.
I fought bravely under depths of grief;
Till I knew I from death was not far.
And I felt myself by an arrow hit hard;
Of love which no witchcraft can erase,
The eternity whereof I’ve felt aye in my life
And now I am with death face to face.
Now I feel myself on the thorns of life,
And I bleed upon this evil time.
And then goes my soul and my life an’ my corpse;
Languidly into the hanging blue rime.
poem by Amanyu T Thulasi
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But those rare souls whose spirit gets magically into the hearts of men, leave behind them something more real and warmly personal than bodily presence, an ineffable and eternal thing. It is everlasting life touching us as something more than a vague, recondite concept. The sound of a great name dies like an echo the splendor of fame fades into nothing but the grace of a fine spirit pervades the places through which it has passed, like the haunting loveliness of mignonette.
quote by James Thurber
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Year
IT PASSED like the breath of the night-wind away,
It fled like a mist at the dawn of the day;
It lasted its moment, then backward was hurled,
Another increase to the age of the world.
It passed with its shadows, its smiles and its tears,
It passed as a stream to the ocean of years;
Years that were coming—were here—and are o’er,
The ages departed to visit no more.
It passed, but the bark on its billowy track
Leaves an impression on waters aback:
The glow of the gloaming remains on the sky,
Unwilling to leave us—unwilling to die.
It fled; but away and away in its wake
There lingers a something that time cannot break.
The past and the future are joined by a chain,
And memories live that must ever remain.
poem by Henry Kendall
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The Soldier's Christmas Eve
In a southern forest gloomy and old,
So lately the scene of a terrible fight,
A soldier, alone in the dark and cold,
Is keeping the watch tonight.
As he paces his round he sees the light
Of his comrades' campfire, gleaming far,
Through the dusky wood, and one bright star
Looks down with a twinkle of light and love
From the frosty sky that bends above.
Large, clear and bright in the far off skies
It twinkles and glimmers there alone
Like the blessed Bethlehem star that shone
On the sheperd's wondering eyes.
As he watches it slowly, sweetly rise
His heart is touched by its gentle ray.
And away, away,
His thoughts on the wings of fancy stray,
He forgets the night with its frosty air,
And cheerless blast, that every where
Moans loud through the branches black and bare,
He is thinking now of the little band
In his boyhood home, whose faces bright
Are beaming with happiness as they stand
Round the Christmas tree tonight,
And he seems to join with the happy throng
In each innocent game and mirthful song.
Ah! vision as bright as fairy land!
Like a broken dream, it will not stay,
He raises his weather-beaten hand
And dashes a tear away,
And he feels anew, all his terrible lot -
Exposed to the pestilence, snow and rain,
Enduring fatigue, and fever and pain.
And standing each day to be shot -
And all for what?
For what does he give his strength and life
in the deadly strife?
To defend the home where the loved ones are
From the fire and sword and the ravage of war,
To defend his home and the land of his birth,
To pride of the earth,
And solemnly sworn
To avenge her flag, by the traitors torn,
Of its ancient glory shamefully shorn.
Such thoughts through the soldiers mind have passed.
He feels no longer the chilling blast,
The driving sleet or the frozen ground.
For his blood is beating fiercly and fast
As he quickens his round.
He pines no longer for home and rest -
A patriot's spirit has warmed his breast.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Another Year
Another year has passed.
Things are finally looking up at last.
I'm twenty-five and still alive.
Suprisingly I feel alright.
Holding my loved ones near and tight.
The one I hold dearest gives me light.
Through all my life I knew it right.
Long days have passed since I came last.
Many happy days here in this cast.
A loving family with freinds present and in the past.
Most of them I still love, they're a smash.
Although from time to time we clash.
A faithful journey with falls a plenty.
They can't beat me because God has kept me.
I'll keep fighting to find my meaning.
Another year I know I'm dear.
To all of those who gave me cheer.
Some things are close with who I've chose.
The deals at hand to have and close.
When another year has passed.
I know that she'll be mine at last.
So I thank you all it's been a blast.
We'll celebrate all the years that pass.
poem by Michael McParland
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Little Nell
GLEAMING through the silent church-yard,
Winter sunlight seemed to shed
Golden shadows like soft blessings
O'er a quiet little bed,
Where a pale face lay unheeding
Tender tears that o'er it fell;
No sorrow now could touch the heart
Of gentle little Nell.
Ah, with what silent patient strength
The frail form lying there
Had borne its heavy load of grief,
Of loneliness and care.
Now, earthly burdens were laid down,
And on the meek young face
There shone a holier loveliness
Than childhood's simple grace.
Beset with sorrow, pain and fear,
Tempted by want and sin,
With none to guide or counsel her
But the brave child-heart within.
Strong in her fearless, faithful love,
Devoted to the last,
Unfaltering through gloom and gleam
The little wanderer passed.
Hand in hand they journeyed on
Through pathways strange and wild,
The gray-haired, feeble, sin-bowed man
Led by the noble child.
So through the world's dark ways she passed,
Till o'er the church-yard sod,
To the quiet spot where they found rest,
Those little feet had trod.
To that last resting-place on earth
Kind voices bid her come,
There her long wanderings found an end,
And weary Nell a home.
A home whose light and joy she was,
Though on her spirit lay
A solemn sense of coming change,
That deepened day by day.
There in the church-yard, tenderly,
Through quiet summer hours,
Above the poor neglected graves
She planted fragrant flowers.
The dim aisles of the ruined church
Echoed the child's light tread,
And flickering sunbeams thro' the leaves
Shone on her as she read.
And here where a holy silence dwelt,
And golden shadows fell,
When Death's mild face had looked on her,
They laid dear happy Nell.
Long had she wandered o'er the earth,
One hand to the old man given,
By the other angels led her on
Up a sunlit path to Heaven.
Oh! 'patient, loving, noble Nell,'
Like light from sunset skies,
The beauty of thy sinless life
Upon the dark world lies.
On thy sad story, gentle child,
Dim eyes will often dwell,
And loving hearts will cherish long
The memory of Nell.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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At Home
When I was dead, my spirit turned
To seek the much-frequented house:
I passed the door, and saw my friends
Feasting beneath green orange boughs;
From hand to hand they pushed the wine,
They sucked the pulp of plum and peach;
They sang, they jested, and they laughed,
For each was loved of each.
I listened to thier honest chat:
Said one: "To-morrow we shall be
Plod plod along the featureless sands,
And coasting miles and miles of sea."
Said one: "Before the turn of tide
We will achieve the eyrie-seat."
Said one: "To-morrow shall be like
To-day, but much more sweet."
"To-morrow," said they, strong with hope,
And dwelt upon the pleasant way:
"To-morrow," cried they, one and all,
While no one spoke of yesterday.
Their life stood full at blessed noon;
I, only I, had passed away:
"To-morrow and to-day," they cried;
I was of yesterday.
I shivered comfortless, but cast
No chill across the table-cloth;
I, all-forgotten, shivered, sad
To stay, and yet to part how loth:
I passed from the familiar room,
I who from love had passed away,
Like the remembrance of a guest
That tarrieth but a day.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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I Was So Lucky
Its no secret Ive been waiting
But I didnt expect this
Nothing will remain
Nothing stays the same
After you came
Its no secret Ive been starving
I never felt anything for years
I sat up all night
Just to watch your smile
When youre sleeping
I was so lucky you came by
And turned a different corner
I couldve been somewhere else
You couldve passed by, couldve passed by
Come on and sail the sea with me
Come on, lets go around the world
Maybe find a flat
Or a canyon house
For the season
I was so lucky you came by
And turned a different corner
It couldve been someone else
You had in mind
I was so lucky you found me
My rags turned gold and silver
I couldve been somewhere else
You couldve passed by, couldve passed by
What would you make of this, my baby?
The sun through the trees
Is there a better place to be?
I was so lucky you came by
And turned a different corner
It could have been someone else
You had in mind, oh my
I was so lucky you picked me
My trash turned to silver
Yea, I could have been somewhere else
You couldve passed by, couldbe passed by
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The World Has Passed Me By
THE WORLD HAS PASSED ME BY
The world has passed me by-
Its rules have changed-
I am playing an old game
No one plays anymore -
I cannot win
Because there are no winners of this kind anymore -
The world has passed me by
And it is as if I have already died.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Fancy and the Poet
Poet --
Enchanting spirit! -- at thy votive shrine
I lowly bend a simple wreath to twine;
O Come from the ideal world and fling
Thy airy fingers o'er my rugged string;
Sweep the dark chords of thought and give to earth
The thrilling song that tells thy heavenly birth --
Fancy --
Happiness when from earth she fled
I passed on her heavenward flight --
"Take this crown," the spirit said
"Of heaven's own golden light --
To the sons of sorrow the token give,
And bid them follow my steps and live!" --
I took the crown from the snowy hand,
It flashed like a living star;
I turned this dark earth to a fairy land
When I hither drive my car;
But I placed the crown round my tresses bright,
And man only saw its reflected light --
Many a lovely dream I've given,
And many a song divine;
But never! -- oh never -- that gift of heaven
Shall mortals temples twine --
Hope and love in the circlet glow!
'Tis all too bright for a world of woe --
Poet --
Hist -- Beautiful spirit! -- why silent so soon?
My ear drinks each word of thy magical tune;
My lyre owns thy touch -- and its tremulous strings
Vibrate beneath the soft play of thy wings;
Resume thy sweet lay, and reveal, ere we part
Thy home lovely spirit -- and say what thou art?" --
Fancy --
The gleam of a star thou cans't not see --
Of an eye 'neath its sleeping lid,
The sound of a far off melody
The voice of a stream that's hid;
Such must I still remain to thee
A wonder and a mystery! --
I live in the poet's dream
I flash on the painter's eye;
I dwell in the moon's pale beam,
In the depths of the star lit sky;
I traverse the earth, the air, the main,
And bind young hearts in my magic chain --
I float on the fleecy cloud
My voice is in ev'ry breeze;
I speak in the tempest loud,
In the sigh of the waving trees --
To the sons of earth -- in a mystic tone,
I tell of a world more bright than their own! --
poem by Susanna Strickland Moodie
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