And That I Walk Thus Proudly Crowned Withal
And that I walk thus proudly crowned withal
Is that 'tis my distinction; if I fall,
I shall not weep out of the vital day,
To-morrow dust, nor wear a dull decay.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Related quotes
Truly, Truly, This Is The End
They say deaths an open door
Into another room
Within the city of the dead
(Our New Kingdom)
They say we walk like dreams
Sharing the same breath
Seeing through the same eyes
(A collective spirit)
As we pray (As we pray)
On his grave (On his grave)
Or words fall and decay (And decay)
As we pray (As we pray)
On his grave (On his grave)
Or words fall and decay (And decay)
They say the Earth it gives no peace
Nor does it take away
We all survive the grave
(Unfortunate eternal)
They say that in times past
A king walked in the sky
Until dethroned by man
(Tribe of Judas)
As we pray (As we pray)
On his grave (On his grave)
Or words fall and decay (And decay)
As we pray (As we pray)
On his grave (On his grave)
Or words fall and decay (And decay)
Truly, truly, this is the end
Truly, truly, this is the end
Truly, truly, this is the end
Truly, truly, this is the end
It's not the same
I'm plagued with pain and I can't let go
It's not the same
I'm plagued with pain and I can't let go
It's not the same
I'm plagued with pain and I can't let go
It's not the same
I'm plagued with pain and I can't let go
This is the end
song performed by by Zao

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Distant Rainfall
Like mourning women veiled to the feet
Tall slender rainstorms walk slowly against gray cloud along the
far verge.
The ocean is green where the river empties,
Dull gray between the points of the headlands, purple where
the women walk.
What do they want? Whom are they mourning?
What hero's dust in the urn between the two hands hidden in
the veil?
Titaness after Titaness proudly
Bearing her tender magnificent sorrow at her heart, the lost
battle's beauty.
poem by Robinson Jeffers

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I'll Wear It Proudly (live)
I hate these flaming curtains they're not the color of your hair
I hate these striplights they're not so undoing as your stare
I hate the buttons on your shirt when all I wanna do is tear
I hate this bloody big bed of mine when you're not here
[chorus]
Well I finally found someone to turn me upside down
And nail my feet up where my head should be
If they had a King of Fools then I could wear that crown
And you can all die laughing because I'll wear it proudly
Well you seem to be shivering dear and the room is awfully warm
In the white and scarlet billows that subside beyond the storm
You have this expression dear no words could take its place
And I wear it like a badge that you put all over my face
[chorus]
I'll wear it proudly through the dives and the dancehalls
If you'll wear it proudly through the snakepits and catcalls
Like a fifteen year old kid wears a vampire kiss
If you don't know what is wrong with me
Then you don't know what you've missed
We are arms and legs wrapped round more than my memory tonight
When the bell rang out and the air outside turned blue from fright
But in shameless moments you made more of me than just a mess
And a handful of eagerness says "What do you suggest?"
[chorus
song performed by by Radiohead

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ill Wear It Proudly
I hate these flaming curtains theyre not the color of your hair
I hate these striplights theyre not so undoing as your stare
I hate the buttons on your shirt when all I wanna do is tear
I hate this bloody big bed of mine when youre not here
[chorus]
Well I finally found someone to turn me upside down
And nail my feet up where my head should be
If they had a king of fools then I could wear that crown
And you can all die laughing because Ill wear it proudly
Well you seem to be shivering dear and the room is awfully warm
In the white and scarlet billows that subside beyond the storm
You have this expression dear no words could take its place
And I wear it like a badge that you put all over my face
[chorus]
Ill wear it proudly through the dives and the dancehalls
If youll wear it proudly through the snakepits and catcalls
Like a fifteen year old kid wears a vampire kiss
If you dont know what is wrong with me
Then you dont know what youve missed
We are arms and legs wrapped round more than my memory tonight
When the bell rang out and the air outside turned blue from fright
But in shameless moments you made more of me than just a mess
And a handful of eagerness says what do you suggest?
[chorus]
song performed by by Elvis Costello

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A dark chilly dreary morning
It is a dark chilly dreary morning
Sun delayed over city with gray sky in mourning
The throng of comers and goers in my face flits and fleets
And will not let me be
I walk passing eave-drops lofty fall
And the yellow vapors choke
The great city subway sounding wide
The day comes suddenly at last- A dull red ball
Wrapped in drifts of lurid smoke
On the misty East river tide
I loath the city of solitude in squares and in streets
And the faces of stutters that one meets
Empty aloof hearts arrogant introvert souls with no love for me
I crave to crawl, to crouch to creep
Into some under street cafe’ deep
And there to weep and weep and weep
My whole soul out for you in silent grief
copy rights 2010
The march of love
Love marches are not alike.
Who ambles to love withal?
With widows that lack sanction.
Who doeth love trot withal?
With youths that lack fear.
Who gallops it withal?
With paramours that lack patience.
Who stay love still withal?
With the old that lack response.
09.07.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Why Women Wear Heels?
Women wear heels, fashion dictate.
Women wear heels to imitate.
Women wear heels to feel great.
Women wear heels to look taller.
Women wear heels, feet look smaller.
Sky high heels to look sexy.
To walk on heels, one can't be lazy.
To walk on heels, a balancing act.
To walk on heels, risks the back.
Imploring To Be Resigned At Death
Let me die and not tremble at death,
But smile at the close of my day,
And then, at the flight of my breath,
Like a bird of the morning in May,
Go chanting away.
Let me die without fear of the dead,
No horrors my soul shall dismay,
And with faith's pillow under my head,
With defiance to mortal decay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die like a son of the brave,
And martial distinction display,
Nor shrink from a thought of the grave,
No, but with a smile from the clay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die glad, regardless of pain,
No pang to this world to betray;
And the spirit cut loose from its chain,
So loath in the flesh to delay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die, and my worst foe forgive,
When death veils the last vital ray;
Since I have but a moment to live,
Let me, when the last debt I pay,
Go chanting away.
poem by George Moses Horton

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Where is the Slave
Oh, where's the slave so lowly,
Condemn'd to chains unholy,
Who, could he burst
His bonds at first,
Would pine beneath them slowly?
What soul, whose wrongs degrade it,
Would wait till time decay'd it,
When thus its wing
At once may spring
To the throne of Him who made it?
Farewell, Erin, -- farewell, all,
Who live to weep our fall!
Less dear the laurel growing,
Alive, untouch'd and blowing,
Than that whose braid
Is pluckd to shade
The brows with victory glowing.
We tread the land that bore us,
Her green flag glitters o'er us,
The friends we've tried
Are by our side,
And the foe we hate before us.
Farewell, Erin, -- farewell, all,
Who live to weep our fall!
poem by Thomas Moore

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Walk Through The Fire
Walk through the fire
Walk through the fire (walk through the fire)
Through the dust and ashes
While the building crashes
Walk through the flame (walk through the fire)
No trace of indecision
Lion keep his vision clear
Moving out
Across the water
The wet leaves quiver in the heat
Darkness heavy on my shoulder
Smell the smoke, sickly sweet
The bodys weak, the shadows strong
Walk through the fire (walk through the fire)
Through the dust and ashes
While the building crashes
Walk through the flame (walk through the fire)
Lion show no sign of fear
Walk through the fire (walk through the fire)
Through the dust and ashes
While the building crashes
Walk through the flame (walk through the fire)
No time for doubt or caution
Taken by the strong emotion
Walk through the fire (walk through the fire)
No trace of indecision
Lion hold his vision clear
(walk, walk, walk)
Walk through the fire (walk through the fire)
Walking in the path of angel
Walk on down below, walk on down below
Walk on down below, walk on down below
song performed by by Peter Gabriel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Patriot
I do not wear a uniform
Nor a helmet on my head
I never carry a weapon
Or have seen my brothers bled.
I never stand at attention
Nor have I marched in line
I never fought for freedom
As what I own is already mine.
I do not salute any man
I humble down only to GOD
So I walk my own separate path
Whether at home or even abroad.
I wear no stripes upon my arms
There are no medals upon my chest
As I am just a civilian
Nothing more, and nothing less.
I know my national anthem
Whenever it is spoken or even sung
And tears still come unto my eyes
As proudly my head is hung.
Inside my soul their is a torch
I will be a patriot until the day I die
And I too will walk those proud lines
While still with pride for my flag I will cry.
I have never fought in a war
But I have passed our soldiers graves
I give thanks to the country that I live in
And to those soldiers, I give my praise.
poem by Randy McClave

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O Mors! Quam Amara Est Memoria Tua Homini Pacem Habenti In Substantiis Suis
Exceeding sorrow
Consumeth my sad heart!
Because to-morrow
We must depart,
Now is exceeding sorrow
All my part!
Give over playing,
Cast thy viol away:
Merely laying
Thine head my way:
Prithee, give over playing,
Grave or gay.
Be no word spoken;
Weep nothing: let a pale
Silence, unbroken
Silence prevail!
Prithee, be no word spoken,
Lest I fail!
Forget to-morrow!
Weep nothing: only lay
In silent sorrow
Thine head my way:
Let us forget to-morrow,
This one day!
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson

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Cross ON A Chain
You wear a crucifix around your neck
Is it in decoration or a sign of your true belief
As around my neck their lies nothing at all,
Because in my heart, lies the love that you cant see.
I proclaim my belief to no one but me
A desire stronger than your crucifix on a chain
And if I could wear that belief around my neck
I would proudly wear it, as my love I’d proclaim.
I wear my belief as if it lies around my neck
As proudly and strongly as any crucifix on a chain
And if it could be removed, forever it would stay
Then you would know that love would always remain.
Around my neck their lies nothing at all
In my heart their lies a need that cannot end
So while the World can see your crucifix on the chain,
Around my heart, there is that love ready to begin.
Around your neck lies a crucifix on a chain
Which can be removed anytime or at any day
It can be a decoration to adorn your looks,
Or it can be an idol so you can worship on or pray.
I look at my belief which hangs around my neck
Though it can be see and held only by me,
And proudly I hold it, and forever I will keep it
Because it is the only belief, that can set me free.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave

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Around My Neck
You wear a crucifix around your neck
Is it in decoration or a sign of your true belief
As around my neck their lies nothing at all,
Because in my heart, lies the love that you cant see.
I proclaim my belief to no one but me
A desire stronger than your crucifix on a chain
And if I could wear that belief around my neck
I would proudly wear it, as my love I’d proclaim.
I wear my belief as if it lies around my neck
As proudly and strongly as any crucifix on a chain
And if it could be removed, forever it would stay
Then you would know that love would always remain.
Around my neck their lies nothing at all
In my heart their lies a need that cannot end
So while the World can see your crucifix on the chain,
Around my heart, there is that love ready to begin.
Around your neck lies a crucifix on a chain
Which can be removed anytime or at any day
It can be a decoration to adorn your looks,
Or it can be an idol so you can worship on or pray.
I look at my belief which hangs around my neck
Though it can be see and held only by me,
And proudly I hold it, and forever I will keep it
Because it is the only belief, that can set me free.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave

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Fifteenth Sunday After Trinity
Sweet nurslings of the vernal skies,
Bathed in soft airs, and fed with dew,
What more than magic in you lies,
To fill the heart's fond view?
In childhood's sports, companions gay,
In sorrow, on Life's downward way,
How soothing! in our last decay
Memorials prompt and true.
Relics ye are of Eden's bowers,
As pure, as fragrant, and as fair,
As when ye crowned the sunshine hours
Of happy wanderers there.
Fall'n all beside--the world of life,
How is it stained with fear and strife!
In Reason's world what storms are rife,
What passions range and glare!
But cheerful and unchanged the while
Your first and perfect form ye show,
The same that won Eve's matron smile
In the world's opening glow.
The stars of heaven a course are taught
Too high above our human thought:
Ye may be found if ye are sought,
And as we gaze, we know.
Ye dwell beside our paths and homes,
Our paths of sin, our homes of sorrow,
And guilty man where'er he roams,
Your innocent mirth may borrow.
The birds of air before us fleet,
They cannot brook our shame to meet -
But we may taste your solace sweet
And come again to-morrow.
Ye fearless in your nests abide -
Nor may we scorn, too proudly wise,
Your silent lessons, undescried
By all but lowly eyes:
For ye could draw th' admiring gaze
Of Him who worlds and hearts surveys:
Your order wild, your fragrant maze,
He taught us how to prize.
Ye felt your Maker's smile that hour,
As when He paused and owned you good;
His blessing on earth's primal bower,
Ye felt it all renewed.
What care ye now, if winter's storm
Sweep ruthless o'er each silken form?
Christ's blessing at your heart is warm,
Ye fear no vexing mood.
Alas! of thousand bosoms kind,
That daily court you and caress,
How few the happy secret find
Of your calm loveliness!
"Live for to-day! to-morrow's light
To-morrow's cares shall bring to sight,
Go sleep like closing flowers at night,
And Heaven thy morn will bless."
poem by John Keble

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To-Morrow
When you’re suffering hard for your sins, old man,
When you wake to trouble and sleep ill—
Oh, this is the clack of the middle class,
‘Win back the respect of the people!’
You are weak, you’re a fool, or a drunken brute
When you’re deep in trouble and sorrow;
But walk down the street in a decent suit,
And their hats will be off to-morrow! Old Chap—
And their hats will be off to-morrow!
They cant and they cackle—‘Redeem the Past!’
Who never had past worth redeeming:
Your soul seems dead, but you’ll find at last
That somewhere your soul lay dreaming.
You may stagger down-hill in a beer-stained coat,
You may loaf, you may cadge and borrow—
But walk down the street with a ten-pound note
And their hats will be off to-morrow! Old Man—
Yes, their hats will be off to-morrow!
But stick to it, man! for your old self’s sake,
Though to brood on the past is human;
Hold up for the sake of the mate who was true,
And the sake of the Other Woman.
And as for the rest, you may take off your hat
And banish all signs of sorrow;
You may take their hands, but in spite of that,
Can they win your respect to-morrow? Old Man—
Can they win your respect to-morrow?
poem by Henry Lawson

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My Friend
Two days ago with dancing glancing hair,
With living lips and eyes:
Now pale, dumb, blind, she lies;
So pale, yet still so fair.
We have not left her yet, not yet alone;
But soon must leave her where
She will not miss our care,
Bone of our bone.
Weep not; O friends, we should not weep:
Our friend of friends lies full of rest;
No sorrow rankles in her breast,
Fallen fast asleep.
She sleeps below,
She wakes and laughs above:
To-day, as she walked, let us walk in love;
To-morrow follow so.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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Weep Day
I never went to the tropical island
Though everybody said they saw me there
And it wasnt me you punched a hole in
At the west german protest march
Simultaneous events dont happen
We are isolated temporally
And a part is never called the whole thing
Though it bothers us to know its so
Every man is made of two opinions
Every woman has a second half
And its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Yes, its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
I didnt write the words you hear me singing (didnt write the words you hear me singing)
I didnt sing the line before this one (didnt sing the line before this one)
You are not the one I was addressing (you are not the one I was addressing)
That person took a train to africa (africa)
Where he met the consulate from belgium
Who is now a buddhist in a cave
Who is pitching for the oakland raiders
Striking out the batter she became
Every man is made of two opinions
Every woman has a second half
And its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Yes, its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Yes, its samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man (samba time for tambo and weep day for urine man)
Weep day for urine man (weep day for urine man)
Weep day for urine man (weep day for urine man)
Weep day for urine man (weep day for urine man)
Weep day weep day
Weep day weep day
Weep day weep day
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
Weep (weep) weep (weep) weep (weep)
song performed by by They Might Be Giants

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Political conflicts distort and disturb a people's sense of distinction between matters of importance and matters of urgency. What is vital is disguised by what is merely a matter of well being.
quote by John Grierson

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Desolation
I think that the bitterest sorrow or pain
Of love unrequited, or cold death’s woe,
Is sweet, compared to that hour when we know
That some grand passion is on the wane.
When we see that the glory, and glow, and grace
Which lent a splendour to night and day,
Are surely fading, and showing grey
And dull groundwork of the commonplace.
When fond expressions on dull ears fall,
When the hands clasp calmly without one thrill,
When we cannot muster by force of will
The old emotions that came at call.
When the dream has vanished we fain would keep,
When the heart, like a watch, runs out of gear,
And all the savour goes out of the year,
Oh, then is the time – if we could – to weep!
But no tears soften this dull, pale woe;
We must sit and face it with dry, sad eyes.
If we seek to hold it, the swifter joy flies –
We can only be passive, and let it go.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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