Will man mend himself?
Man, art thou human?
You’re taught of noble works
and made to roll on Nature’s lap,
with its hills and rills, seas and leas,
enthralling you and speaking to you
in tongues known alone to God.
But hark! A light venomous spark
of race or religion, tongue or nation,
brings out a holocaust!
People lose their limbs and life;
their precious wealth women lose;
children are turned into ashes!
UNO, Interpol, Agencies of Intelligence,
and ever busy courts with ebullient judges!
These are not for animals wild or soft,
but for you, who wage wars,
atomic, biological, chemical, cyber
and numerous forms unknown even to goblins!
Guns speak when thy heart keeps silence.
Avarice wins over the austere minds.
As Hilary Clinton prophesied,
“ You keep wild animals at your backyard
and expect them to devour only thy neighbours! ”
What will give you joy and a healthy life?
Variety is the law of Nature,
unfolded in diverse forms.
But you preach, convert and polarize.
You threaten, kill, and impose,
your plan in stealth to penetrate.
How mean you’re, the ugliest of all!
----------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
To the Terrestrial Globe
Roll on, thou ball, roll on!
Through pathless realms of Space
Roll on!
What though I'm in a sorry case?
What though I cannot meet my bills?
What though I suffer toothache's ills?
What though I swallow countless pills?
Never YOU mind!
Roll on!
Roll on, thou ball, roll on!
Through seas of inky air
Roll on!
It's true I've got no shirts to wear;
It's true my butcher's bill is due;
It's true my prospects all look blue -
But don't let that unsettle you!
Never YOU mind!
Roll on!
[IT ROLLS ON.]
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Last Visit To The Louvre The Cry Of The P.R.B., After A Careful Examination Of The Canvases Of Ruben
NON NOI PITTORI! God of Nature's truth,
If these, not we! Be it not said, when one
Of us goes hence: “As these did, he hath done;
His feet sought out their footprints from his youth.”
Because, dear God! the flesh Thou madest smooth
These carked and fretted, that it seemed to run
With ulcers; and the daylight of thy sun
They parcelled into blots and glares, uncouth
With stagnant grouts of paint. Men say that these
Had further sight than man's, but that God saw
Their works were good. God that didst know them foul!
In such a blindness, blinder than the owl,
Leave us! Our sight can reach unto thy seas
And hills: and 'tis enough for tears of awe.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On Pedigree. From Epicharmus
My mother! if thou love me, name no more
My noble birth! Sounding at every breath
My noble birth, thou kill'st me. Thither fly,
As to their only refuge, all from whom
Nature withholds all good besides; they boast
Their noble birth, conduct us to the tombs
Of their forefathers, and, from age to age
Ascending, trumpet their illustrious race:
But whom hast thou beheld, or canst thou name,
Derived from no forefathers? Such a man
Lives not; for how could such be born at all?
And, if it chance that, native of a land
Far distant, or in infancy deprived
Of all his kindred, one, who cannot trace
His origin, exist, why deem him sprung
From baser ancestry than theirs who can?
My mother! he whom nature at his birth
Endow'd with virtuous qualities, although
An Æthiop and a slave, is nobly born.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Worship of Nature
The harp at Nature's advent strung
Has never ceased to play;
The song the stars of morning sung
Has never died away.
And prayer is made, and praise is given,
By all things near and far;
The ocean looketh up to heaven,
And mirrors every star.
Its waves are kneeling on the strand,
As kneels the human knee,
Their white locks bowing to the sand,
The priesthood of the sea!
They pour their glittering treasures forth,
Their gifts of pearl they bring,
And all the listening hills of earth
Take up the song they sing.
The green earth sends its incense up
From many a mountain shrine;
From folded leaf and dewy cup
She pours her sacred wine.
The mists above the morning rills
Rise white as wings of prayer;
The altar-curtains of the hills
Are sunset's purple air.
The winds with hymns of praise are loud,
Or low with sobs of pain, --
The thunder-organ of the cloud,
The dropping tears of rain.
With drooping head and branches crossed
The twilight forest grieves,
Or speaks with tongues of Pentecost
From all its sunlit leaves.
The blue sky is the temple's arch,
Its transept earth and air,
The music of its starry march
The chorus of a prayer.
So Nature keeps the reverent frame
With which her years began,
And all her signs and voices shame
The prayerless heart of man.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The noble simplicity in the works of nature only too often originates in the noble shortsightedness of him who observes it.
quote by Georg C. Lichtenberg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
She Took a Flight from my Mind
She has gone off this poor heart
with a Desk-top engineer abroad.
Deriding me by a derisive look,
She has happily left this abode.
My eyes have lost their vision.
My ears don't listen to music.
My mind hates this human world
and she has her heavenly heart sold.
And she has her heavenly heart sold!
The flowers in the garden bleed.
The birds don't play their reed.
The stars don't gleam in the dark
and the hills with no rills stand stark.
And the hills with no rills stand stark!
My pen doesn't scribble a verse
and the sea roars ill-boding curse.
The river goes silent in grief
and she has made her love brief.
And she has made her love brief!
A send-off she gave me with smiles.
Where she did hide her guiles?
My heart from beating fails
and to heavenward not it sails.
And to heavenward not it sails!
The springs are dry in the spring.
The winds don't make whistling ring.
Towards my back an arrow did she fling
and hurled me off with her sling.
And hurled me off with her sling!
---------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Be Young You
The tongues of some men are made of metal
The tongues of some men are made of oil
But the keeper of those men never rolled
Their tongues for anybodys free ride but his own
Now the oily tongues are thirsty for black gold.
But the old men are going to bed
Theyll be sleeping through the future
And the children red with fire
They got to move away the old mans rusty beds.
Now the tongue, the tongue of a master
That should be laughter - with dancing legs
Like a flying wheel for the weak and sad man
Some tongues of man are made of silence
And your eyes will listen.
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Should there not be manifest progress and development but in a higher sense than people have imagined it? ... No one is in his age alone, he builds on the preceding one, this becomes nothing but the foundation of the future, wants to be nothing but that — this is what we are told by the analogy in nature, God’s speaking exemplary model in all works! Manifestly so in the human species!
quote by Johann Gottfried Herder
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
To England
Hail, thou my native soil! thou blessed plot
Whose equal all the world affordeth not!
Show me who can so many crystal rills,
Such sweet-clothed valleys or aspiring hills;
Such wood-ground, pastures, quarries, wealthy mines;
Such rocks in whom the diamond fairly shines;
And if the earth can show the like again,
Yet will she fail in her sea-ruling men.
poem by William Browne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Statistically Speaking
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
From the viewpoint of a human being...
I detect us humans,
Are the least important things,
On this Earth.
And the water, grass and trees...
Are the 'real' things,
Mother Nature wishes more to treat!
I perceive our existence here,
Is not so high on the list.
Since we are an experiment.
Even though we choose to think of ourselves,
As the center of the universe.
And here to live in a permanence!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We leech and feed,
Off what nature offers.
We know nothing but conflict!
And this chaos we foster.
There are laws created to discriminate.
Yet we discuss things loved...
And show how much we despise and hate.
We infiltrate and pillage,
Lands where others live.
We take without thought.
Causing blood to shed.
And worship heartache.
As we lay alone sleepless in our beds!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With faith we fake brotherhood!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Believing prayer delivers escape!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
And cry like spoiled children!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With no guilt of remorse to eliminate...
The taste of life,
Made of just frosted cake!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We treat ourselves and others like sheep!
To fleece the wool.
Because we're full of bull!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
We take without thought.
Causing blood to shed.
And worship heartache.
As we lay alone,
Sleepless in our beds!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Yes!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Go Against The Nature is fun..
This universe runs on its own for millions of years,
Following the law of nature without any fear,
The sun never rises from anywhere,
The revolving earth makes this funfair,
The ever changing seasons allure,
The millions souls to meddle and appear,
Nothing waits for anything, events occur,
In constant repetition in tune to the nature,
Nothing waits for anything, never retires,
We, human, are the ones always in despair,
As we wait for the events to our own imagine,
As we wait for the events to our own convenience.
We, human are in despair and pain,
As we are taught to keep vigil and in vain,
We are taught to be scared of unknown,
As we go against the law of nature for fun.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Not Works
Grace, triumphant in the throne,
Scorns a rival, reigns alone;
Come and bow beneath her sway;
Cast your idol works away!
Works of man, when made his plea,
Never shall accepted be;
Fruits of pride (vainglorious worm!)
Are the best he can perform.
Self, the god his soul adores,
Influences all his powers;
Jesus is a slighted name,
Self-advancement all his aim:
But when God the Judge shall come,
To pronounce the final doom,
Then for rocks and hills to hide
All his works and all his pride!
Still the boasting heart replies,
What the worthy and the wise,
Friends to temperance and peace,
Have not these a righteousness?
Banish every vain pretence
Built on human excellence;
Perish everything in man,
But the grace that never can.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Olney Hymn 63: Not Of Works
Grace, triumphant in the throne,
Scorns a rival, reigns alone;
Come and bow beneath her sway;
Cast your idol works away!
Works of man, when made his plea,
Never shall accepted be;
Fruits of pride (vainglorious worm!)
Are the best he can perform.
Self, the god his soul adores,
Influences all his powers;
Jesus is a slighted name,
Self-advancement all his aim:
But when God the Judge shall come,
To pronounce the final doom,
Then for rocks and hills to hide
All his works and all his pride!
Still the boasting heart replies,
What the worthy and the wise,
Friends to temperance and peace,
Have not these a righteousness?
Banish every vain pretence
Built on human excellence;
Perish everything in man,
But the grace that never can.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To The Rev. Dr. Thomas Amory, On Reading His Sermons On Daily Devotion, In Which that Duty Is Recommended And Assisted
TO cultivate in ev'ry noble mind
Habitual grace, and sentiments refin'd,
Thus while you strive to mend the human heart,
Thus while the heav'nly precepts you impart,
O may each bosom catch the sacred fire,
And youthful minds to Virtue's throne aspire!
When God's eternal ways you set in sight,
And Virtue shines in all her native light,
In vain would Vice her works in night conceal,
For Wisdom's eye pervades the sable veil.
Artists may paint the sun's effulgent rays,
But Amory's pen the brighter God displays:
While his great works in Amory's pages shine,
And while he proves his essence all divine,
The Atheist sure no more can boast aloud
Of chance, or nature, and exclude the God;
As if the clay without the potter's aid
Should rise in various forms, and shapes self-made,
Or worlds above with orb o'er orb profound
Self-mov'd could run the everlasting round.
It cannot be--unerring Wisdom guides
With eye propitious, and o'er all presides.
Still prosper, Amory! still may'st thou receive
The warmest blessings which a muse can give,
And when this transitory state is o'er,
When kingdoms fall, and fleeting Fame's no more,
May Amory triumph in immortal fame,
A nobler title, and superior name!
poem by Phillis Wheatley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Carol
WHEN loud by landside streamlets gush,
And clear in the greenwood quires the thrush,
With sun on the meadows
And songs in the shadows
Comes again to me
The gift of the tongues of the lea,
The gift of the tongues of meadows.
Straightway my olden heart returns
And dances with the dancing burns;
It sings with the sparrows;
To the rain and the (grimy) barrows
Sings my heart aloud -
To the silver-bellied cloud,
To the silver rainy arrows.
It bears the song of the skylark down,
And it hears the singing of the town;
And youth on the highways
And lovers in byways
Follows and sees:
And hearkens the song of the leas
And sings the songs of the highways.
So when the earth is alive with gods,
And the lusty ploughman breaks the sod,
And the grass sings in the meadows,
And the flowers smile in the shadows,
Sits my heart at ease,
Hearing the song of the leas,
Singing the songs of the meadows.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Olney Hymn 6: Wisdom
'Ere God had built the mountains,
Or raised the fruitful hills;
Before he fill'd the fountains
That feed the running rills;
In me from everlasting,
The wonderful I am,
Found pleasures never wasting,
And Wisdom is my name.
'When, like a tent to dwell in,
He spread the skies abroad,
And swathed about the swelling
Of Ocean's mighty flood;
He wrought by weight and measure,
And I was with Him then:
Myself the Father's pleasure,
And mine, the sons of men.'
Thus Wisdom's words discover
Thy glory and Thy grace,
Thou everlasting lover
Of our unworthy race!
Thy gracious eye survey'd us
Ere stars were seen above;
In wisdom thou hast made us,
And died for us in love.
And couldst thou be delighted
With creatures such as we,
Who, when we saw Thee, slighted,
And nail'd Thee to a tree?
Unfathomable wonder,
And mystery divine!
The voice that speaks in thunder,
Says, 'Sinner, I am thine!'
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Thousand Human Eyes
Thousand human eyes
Cannot grasp nature’s beauty
In lifetime to praise
Thousand human eyes
Cannot see nature in full
As I always flies
Thousand human eyes
Falls short in their description
Of Sunset sunrise
Thousand human eyes
Cannot apprehend nature
Beneath the blue skies
Thousand human eyes
Fails to see nature’s beauty
To fully appraise
Thousand human eyes
Cannot fully understand
Nature to surmise
Thousand human eyes
Are blessed to see the nature
In its complete guise
Thousand human eyes
Sees the beauty of nature
With awe and oyez
Thousand human eyes
Is not capable to see
Nature’s burning eyes
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Our Hills
Dear Mother-Earth
Of Titan birth,
Yon hills are your large breasts, and often I
Have climbed to their top-nipples, fain and dry
To drink my mother's-milk so near the sky.
O ye hill-stains,
Red, for all rains!
The blood that made you has all bled for us,
The hearts that paid you are all dead for us,
The trees that shade you groan with lead, for us!
And O, hill-sides,
Like giants' brides
Ye sleep in ravine-rumpled draperies,
And weep your springs in tearful memories
Of days that stained your robes with stains like these!
Sleep on, ye hills!
Weep on, ye rills!
The stainers have decreed the stains shall stay.
They chain the hands might wash the stains away.
They wait with cold hearts till we "rue the day".
O Mother-Earth
Of Titan birth,
Thy mother's-milk is curdled with aloe.
-- Like hills, Men, lift calm heads through any woe,
And weep, but bow not an inch, for any foe!
Thou Sorrow-height
We climb by night,
Thou hast no hell-deep chasm save Disgrace.
To stoop, will fling us down its fouled space:
Stand proud! The Dawn will meet us, face to face,
For down steep hills the Dawn loves best to race!
poem by Sidney Lanier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Some would deny any legitimate use of the word God because it has been misused so much. Certainly it is the most burdened of all human words. Precisely for that reason it is the b imperishable and unavoidable. And how much weight has all erroneous talk about God's nature and works (although there never has been nor can be any such talk that is not erroneous) compared with the one truth that all men who have addressed God really meant him? For whoever pronounces the word God and really means Thou, addresses, no matter what his delusion, the true Thou of his life that cannot be restricted by any other and to whom he stands in a relationship that includes all others.
quote by Martin Buber
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
If Thou'lt Be Mine
If thou'lt be mine, the treasures of air,
Of earth, and sea, shall lie at thy feet;
Whatever in Fancy's eye looks fair,
Or in Hope's sweet music sounds most sweet,
Shall be ours -- if thou wilt be mine, love!
Bright flowers shall bloom wherever we rove,
A voice divine shall talk in each stream;
The stars shall look like world of love,
And this earth be all one beautiful dream
In our eyes -- if thou wilt be mine, love!
And thoughts, whose source is hidden and high,
Like streams that come from heaven-ward hills,
Shall keep our hearts, like meads, that lie
To be bathed by those eternal rills,
Ever green, if thou wilt be mine, love!
All this and more the Spirit of Love
Can breathe o'er them who feel his spells;
That heaven, which forms his home above,
He can make on earth, wherever he dwells,
As thou'lt own, -- if thou wilt be mine, love!
poem by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!