Sonnet XXVII: Is Not Love Here
Is not Love here as 'tis in other climes,
And differeth it, as do the several nations?
Or hath it lost the virtue with the times,
Or in this island altereth with the fashions?
Or have our passions lesser power than theirs,
Who had less art them lively to express?
Is Nature grown less powerful in their heirs,
Or in our fathers did she more transgress?
I am sure my sighs come from a heart as true
As any man's that memory can boast,
And my respects and services to you
Equal with his that loves his mistress most.
Or nature must be partial to my cause,
Or only you do violate her laws.
poem by Michael Drayton
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In Harmony with Nature
"In Harmony with Nature?" Restless fool,
Who with such heat dost preach what were thee,
When true, the last impossibility—
To be like Nature strong, like Nature cool!
Know, man hath all which Nature hath, but more,
And in that more lie all his hopes of good.
Nature is cruel, man is sick of of blood;
Nature is stubborn, man would fain adore;
Nature is fickle, man hath need of rest;
Nature forgives no debt, and fears no grave;
Man would be mild, and with safe conscience blest.
Man must begin, know this, where Nature ends;
Nature and man can never be fast friends.
Fool, if thou canst not pass her, rest her slave!
poem by Matthew Arnold from Sonnets (1849)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ode VII: On The Use Of Poetry
I.
Not for themselves did human kind
Contrive the parts by heaven assign'd
On life's wide scene to play:
Not Scipio's force, nor Cæsar's skill
Can conquer glory's arduous hill,
If fortune close the way.
II.
Yet still the self-depending soul,
Though last and least in fortune's roll,
His proper sphere commands;
And knows what nature's seal bestow'd,
And sees, before the throne of God,
The rank in which he stands.
III.
Who train'd by laws the future age,
Who rescu'd nations from the rage
Of partial, factious power,
My heart with distant homage views;
Content if thou, celestial Muse,
Did'st rule my natal hour.
IV.
Nor far beneath the hero's feet,
Nor from the legislator's seat
Stands far remote the bard.
Though not with public terrors crown'd,
Yet wider shall his rule be found,
More lasting his award.
V.
Lycurgus fashion'd Sparta's fame,
And Pompey to the Roman name
Gave universal sway:
Where are they?—Homer's reverend page
Holds empire to the thirtieth age,
And tongues and climes obey.
VI.
And thus when William's acts divine
No longer shall from Bourbon's line
Draw one vindictive vow;
When Sidney shall with Cato rest,
And Russel move the patriot's breast
No more than Brutus now;
VII.
Yet then shall Shakespeare's powerful art
O'er every passion, every heart,
Confirm his awful throne:
Tyrants shall bow before his laws;
And freedom's, glory's, virtue's cause,
Their dread assertor own.
poem by Mark Akenside
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Thirteen Lines
A brain peered through stoic eyes;
Yet all it saw was rendered into
Flawed interpretation –
No honoured contemplation of a
Gluon, muon, quark of any flavour;
Nor a vision or conception of its world
Within a universe anthropic in its physical laws,
Inside a boundless multiverse.
All it gleaned and modelled
Bore parochialism well beyond belief! –
Delusional perhaps.
Survival only matters here on planet Earth –
Evolution saw to that.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Nature Loves All!
By giving all Nature loves all to make life happy!
Nature loves creative expansion for the benefit of all
And endlessly indulges in expanding self to serve all.
This nature of paradise on Earth is unique in Universe!
Enjoying all man exploits Nature to its own destruction
Not knowing the source of love and life here is Nature
Carried away by his pride of knowledge and superiority
Over all creatures big or small being the master of world!
Animal nature tamed by love of Nature man is evolved!
Learnt he love but failed to realize it by material growth
Carried away by economic thoughts at the cost of humans
To accrue wealth and enjoy comforts believing this eternal!
Nothing is permanent in Nature as it is ever in change
To evolve better creatures according to the will of God.
Can man defy laws of Nature established by will of God?
No, never and so, it is better he goes on the path of love!
poem by Ramesh T A
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A Praise of his Lady
GIVE place, you ladies, and begone!
Boast not yourselves at all!
For here at hand approacheth one
Whose face will stain you all.
The virtue of her lively looks
Excels the precious stone;
I wish to have none other books
To read or look upon.
In each of her two crystal eyes
Smileth a naked boy;
It would you all in heart suffice
To see that lamp of joy.
I think Nature hath lost the mould
Where she her shape did take;
Or else I doubt if Nature could
So fair a creature make.
She may be well compared
Unto the Phoenix kind,
Whose like was never seen or heard,
That any man can find.
In life she is Diana chaste,
In troth Penelopey;
In word and eke in deed steadfast.
--What will you more we say?
If all the world were sought so far,
Who could find such a wight?
Her beauty twinkleth like a star
Within the frosty night.
Her rosial colour comes and goes
With such a comely grace,
More ruddier, too, than doth the rose,
Within her lively face.
At Bacchus' feast none shall her meet,
Ne at no wanton play,
Nor gazing in an open street,
Nor gadding as a stray.
The modest mirth that she doth use
Is mix'd with shamefastness;
All vice she doth wholly refuse,
And hateth idleness.
O Lord! it is a world to see
How virtue can repair,
And deck in her such honesty,
Whom Nature made so fair.
Truly she doth so far exceed
Our women nowadays,
As doth the jeliflower a weed;
And more a thousand ways.
How might I do to get a graff
Of this unspotted tree?
--For all the rest are plain but chaff,
Which seem good corn to be.
This gift alone I shall her give;
When death doth what he can,
Her honest fame shall ever live
Within the mouth of man.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Mist Upon the Placid Morn
Bleed out your beauty, Autumn –
Give up a gentle wrist, and smear
Your bloody hues atop the green.
Cast a calming throw of heady peace
Upon the cooling land.
And as you grant the sun a final fling of warmth,
Charge the silent air
(Now lolling on a foliar deathbed)
With earthen whiff to intimate the fungal push.
Soon you’ll send a shiver down the watery spine of
Quivering ponds, punctual brooks, and
Listless lakes, to warn them of the freeze to come.
Behold! your mellow spirit
Hanging as a mist upon the placid morn –
A sight that draws a sneaking tear or two – forlorn
Observers are we all of colder climes to view!
Autumn Lady, must you be the summer waning –?
Our adieu to fairer-weather life?
Ah well, at least you hum a warming tone, ensuring
Nature’s rhythm still abounds.
But now you must prepare the mind for chilly times –
You know the drill –
Guiding us along a sloping path
To ease our psyche in to sleet and snow –
The blue-ice bite of winter.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Cajolment
You are omnicient and too omnipresent
Still oh God for you we have to build temples.
It is often believed that You reside there
Inspite of being the Creator of the nature.
You have created nature as also human
Yet you can not put him under the nature
You have to face always the cajoling men,
Nature you use to suppress them then.
Stern nature brings floods and earthquakes
Those destroy then the proud foolish men
Reestablishing your dominance over them
Inculcating fear once again in them.
Then perhaps to pay respects or for show
Man builds temples to restrict your power.
Your power works in temples he then believes
And bends before you after committing follies.
Poet: Ratnakar D. Mandlik
poem by Ratnakar Mandlik
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Mothers Day2007
She hath my heart, she is my mum.
She hath my heart, she is my only, she is my one.
She hath my heart, though rough winds may blow.
She hath my heart, still her love will flow, her love will always show.
She hath my heart, I thank my lucky stars.
She hath my heart and i have hers.
She hath my heart, i long for her presence.
She hath my heart, her name is essence.
She hath my heart and forever she will.
Lifetimes will come and go, i will love her still
She hath my heart, this fact i cant conceal
Our bond is like sentiment you just cant kill
She hath my heart in times of sorrow.
She hath my heart, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
She hath my heart, my voice will sing.
She hath my heart, she makes the bell in my heart ring.
She hath my heart, in times of trouble.
She wont stumble no i will not let her crumble.
She hath my heart in each and every way
And my love for her grows with each day
She hath my heart for we were once one.
She hath my heart, the heart of the boy inside the man
I hath her heart, the heart we once shared.
Though separated in body the hearts still paired.
She hath my heart i need her near.
She hath my heart my mama dear
She hath my heart and she already knows
In a world of thorny bushes she stands out like rose
She hath my heart for she is always by my side
When the sun sets she is my light, she is my guide.
poem by Soul Child
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Nature Is A Great Wonder - I
Time watching all, Space includes within
Everything – air, fire, water and matter!
Nature is a great wonder, a myriad mystery
Making man a mystic in search of truth.
But, for the scientist Nature is physics
With Space, energy, matter and Time
Working under the Laws of Nature!
Religionists believe that the Laws of man
May be hoodwinked but not that of Dharma,
The Will of God, following which only
Natural justice or order can be maintained!
Beauty cheers the mood of man ever
By freshness, freedom, truth and order!
Beauty of Nature satisfies man’s taste
For aesthetic love with joy and pleasure!
As mother, scenes of nature encourage
And satisfy man according to his mood!
No one is desolate and forlorn as pauper
Or orphan as Nature compensates all losses!
Even worn out souls, at last, resorting to Nature
Have attained enlightenment and turned new leaf.
For the intellectuals too Nature is best philosopher
Giving great ideas to change the world for the better.
Happy times of past in Nature cannot come again
But the joyful thoughts ever linger on alive in memory!
Recollection of such joyful experience in Nature gives
Rapture, rejuvenation and rehabilitation to human spirit!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Why Should I Respect Those
Why should I respect those who do not respect me
Who look down upon me for my poverty
You should only respect those who show respect for you
At least to my own self I'll always be true.
Why should I respect those who bomb, maim and kill
Who by the power of force on smaller Nations impose their will
If you are strong be merciful to them does not apply
Those not with us are against us that is their war cry.
Why should I respect those who for their own greed
Abuse Mother Nature who supplies our every need
What we do to Nature to our own selves we do
The karma we'll receive is the karma we are due.
Why should I respect those who trample the weak
And muzzle those who for themselves who cannot speak
I only respect those who treat others fair
And who love Nature's creatures and for Nature care.
poem by Francis Duggan
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All men have an equal right to the free development of their faculties; they have an equal right to the impartial protection of the state; but it is not true, it is against all the laws of reason and equity, it is against the eternal nature of things.
quote by Victor Cousin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All men have an equal right to the free development of their faculties; they have an equal right to the impartial protection of the state; but it is not true, it is against all the laws of reason and equity, it is against the eternal nature of things, that the indolent man and the laborious man, the spendthrift and the economist, the imprudent and the wise, should obtain and enjoy an equal amount of goods.
quote by Victor Cousin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My True Love Hath My Heart, And I Have His
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange, one for the other giv'n.
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;
There never was a better bargain driv'n.
His heart in me keeps me and him in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides;
He loves my heart, for once it was his own;
I cherish his, because in me it bides.
His heart his wound received from my sight:
My heart was wounded with his wounded heart;
For as from me, on him his hurt did light,
So still me thought in me his hurt did smart:
Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss:
My true love hath my heart and I have his.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Song from Arcadia
My true love hath my heart, and I have his,
By Just Exchange, one for the other given.
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven.
His heart in me keeps me and him in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides;
He loves my heart, for once it was his own,
I cherish his, because in me it bides.
His heart his wound received from my sight,
My heart was wounded with his wounded heart;
For as from me on him his hurt did light,
So still methought in me his hurt did smart.
Both equal hurt, in his change sought our bliss;
My true love hath my heart and I have his.
poem by Philip Sidney
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My True-Love Hath My Heart
My true-love hath my heart and I have his,
By just exchange one for the other given:
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;
There never was a bargain better driven.
His heart in me keeps me and him in one;
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:
He loves my heart, for once it was his own;
I cherish his because in me it bides.
His heart his wound received from my sight;
My heart was wounded with his wounded heart;
For as from me on him his hurt did light,
So still, methought, in me his hurt did smart:
Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss,
My true love hath my heart and I have his.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Nature's Gifts
Nature!
Nature! !
Nature I love you! ! !
With all my heart, with all my being...
You are so kind and always to me
Oh! Nature, how ungrateful I will be if no thanks to thee?
The air I breathe for free,
The plants which I uses to survived...
The rays of sunshines on my face!
The moonlightening my night
The stars sparkling radiances on me
And the cool gentle breezes of night...
All for me from you, you...
Oh! Nature, your so kind
I can't forget the colourful view of the riverside
The view of passions flowers so colourful and nice to behold
The whirlwind blew passions in me...
You made earth so cool and gentle that I felt to walked on bared-foot..
All these for me from you
Oh! Nature, your so kind
You made night just keep me rested and warmth
And my day to make me appreciate you..
Nature you are so kind
Nature you are so kind
Nature you made my world!
Should I forget the rain?
Your blessings falling from above!
Should I forget you and your kindness to me..?
Should I, I said no....
poem by Naseeru Taneemu Annuree
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Sonnet: Don’t Blame Nature
Why challenge Mother Nature, man, in vain?
Accept her superiority and pow’r;
One can’t traverse with equal speed each lane;
Take blame for every flood, wind, drought and show’r!
When hot, the excess steam must be let off;
When cold, one needs to cover to gain heat;
When Nature’s in a furious mood, don’t scoff;
Find solutions better and don’t retreat.
When Nature sends a breeze, man loves her touch;
When Nature blows a wind fierce, men rant, rave;
Yet, Nature balances her acts so much;
From natural disasters, man ought to save.
Align with Nature: Love the way she works;
But cursing God brings man more Nature’s jerks!
Dr John Celes 9-6-2005
poem by John Celes
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A Lyric
My lady love lives far away,
And oh my heart is sad by day,
And ah my tears fall fast by night,
What may I do in such a plight.
Why, miles grow few when love is fleet,
And love, you know, hath flying feet;
Break off thy sighs and witness this,
How poor a thing mere distance is.
My love knows not I love her so,
And would she scorn me, did she know?
How may the tale I would impart
Attract her ear and storm her heart?
Calm thou the tempest in my breast,
Who loves in silence loves the best,
But bide thy time, she will awake,
No night so dark but morn will break.
But though my heart so strongly yearn,
My lady loves me not in turn,
How may I win the blest reply
That my void heart shall satisfy.
Love breedeth love, be thou but true,
And soon thy love shall love thee, too;
If Fate hath meant you heart for heart,
There's naught may keep you twain apart.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Hermes
Soothsay. Behold, with rod twy-serpented,
Hermes the prophet, twining in one power
The woman with the man. Upon his head
The cloudy cap, wherewith he hath in dower
The cloud's own virtue--change and counterchange,
To show in light, and to withdraw in pall,
As mortal eyes best bear. His lineage strange
From Zeus, Truth's sire, and maiden May--the all-
Illusive Nature. His fledged feet declare
That 'tis the nether self transdeified,
And the thrice-furnaced passions, which do bear
The poet Olympusward. In him allied
Both parents clasp; and from the womb of Nature
Stern Truth takes flesh in shows of lovely feature.
poem by Francis Thompson
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The Curse
WHOEVER guesses, thinks, or dreams, he knows
Who is my mistress, wither by this curse;
Him, only for his purse
May some dull whore to love dispose,
And then yield unto all that are his foes;
May he be scorn'd by one, whom all else scorn,
Forswear to others, what to her he hath sworn,
With fear of missing, shame of getting, torn.
Madness his sorrow, gout his cramps, may he
Make, by but thinking who hath made him such;
And may he feel no touch
Of conscience, but of fame, and be
Anguish'd, not that 'twas sin, but that 'twas she;
Or may he for her virtue reverence
One that hates him only for impotence,
And equal traitors be she and his sense.
May he dream treason, and believe that he
Meant to perform it, and confesses, and die,
And no record tell why;
His sons, which none of his may be,
Inherit nothing but his infamy;
Or may he so long parasites have fed,
That he would fain be theirs whom he hath bred,
And at the last be circumcised for bread.
The venom of all stepdames, gamesters' gall,
What tyrants and their subjects interwish,
What plants, mine, beasts, fowl, fish,
Can contribute, all ill, which all
Prophets or poets spake, and all which shall
Be annex'd in schedules unto this by me,
Fall on that man; For if it be a she
Nature beforehand hath out-cursèd me.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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