Alicia Nuncamas
As I walked by myself,
And talked by myself.
Myself said unto me:
Look to thyself,
Take care of thyself,
For nobody cares for thee.
I answered myself,
And said to myself.
In the selfsame repartee:
Look to thyself,
Or not look to thyself,
The self same thing will be!
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
(Reflection Poem) A Look At Thyself
To trust first one must trust thyself.
To love one first must love thyself.
To hate one must first hate thyself.
To lie one must first lie to thyself.
To cheat one must first cheat thyself.
For an outward expression reflects inwards.
No matter how we try to hide who we are it is seen through our actions towards others.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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When I lose Myself
When thus I lose myself in Thee, my God,
Then do I see, and know,
That all Thy universe reveals Thy beauty,
All living beings, and all lifeless things,
Exist through Thee.
This whole vast world is but the form
In which Thous showest us Thyself,
Is but the voice
In which Thyself Thou speakest unto us.
What need of words?
Come, Master, come,
And fill me wholly with Thyself.
poem by Sant Tukaram
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Rhythm Of Life
Welcoming world, with the birth thyself thee get;
With a genial-sweet happiness thee made.
A pestilence revelation objective thou you hates;
That is the Rhythm of the Life thyself you gets.
Understand the monstrous schooled meaning,
Thyself expected from the ordiance having.
Work hard with the worth you arrayed;
Try the picture of the future thy made.
Arrange your surrounding with a vista tags,
Buy thy Age with the degree thee has.
Make sure life give us only a chance;
To make history as long as you can.
Don't obsure about the thrill of death,
It's the ultimate truth of the life thyself you get...
poem by Kumarjeet Basu
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Love Thyself Last
Love thyself last. Look near, behold thy duty
To those who walk beside thee down life’s road;
Make glad their days by little acts of beauty,
And help them bear the burden of earth’s load.
Love thyself last. Look far and find the stranger,
Who staggers ‘neath his sin and his despair;
Go lend a hand, and lead him out of danger,
To heights where he may see the world is fair.
Love thyself last. The vastnesses above thee
Are filled with Spirit Forces, strong and pure.
And fervently, these faithful friends shall love thee:
Keep thou thy watch o’er others, and endure.
Love thyself last; and oh, such joy shall thrill thee,
As never yet to selfish souls was given.
Whate’er thy lot, a perfect peace will fill thee,
And earth shall seem the ante-room of Heaven.
Love thyself last, and thou shall grow in spirit
To see, to hear, to know, and understand.
The message of the stars, lo, thou shall hear it,
And all God’s joys shall be at thy command.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Compare not thyself with those that have less than thyself, but look on those that have far exceeded thee.
quote by William Gurnall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let me advise thee not to talk of thyself as being old. There is something in Mind Cure, after all, and if thee continually talks of thyself as being old, thee may perhaps bring on some of the infirmities of age. At least I would not risk it if I were thee.
quote by Hannah Whitall Smith (1907)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Presence
I sit within my room, and joy to find
That Thou who always lov'st, art with me here,
That I am never left by Thee behind,
But by thyself Thou keep'st me ever near;
The fire burns brighter when with Thee I look,
And seems a kinder servant sent to me;
With gladder heart I read thy holy book,
Because thou art the eyes by which I see;
This aged chair, that table, watch and door
Around in ready service ever wait;
Nor can I ask of Thee a menial more
To fill the measure of my large estate,
For Thou thyself, with all a father's care,
Where'er I turn, art ever with me there.
poem by Jones Very
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Revere thyself, and yet thyself despise.
quote by Edward Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet LXXXVI: Lost Days
The lost days of my life until to-day,
What were they, could I see them on the street
Lie as they fell? Would they be ears of wheat
Sown once for food but trodden into clay?
Or golden coins squandered and still to pay?
Or drops of blood dabbling the guilty feet?
Or such spilt water as in dreams must cheat
The undying throats of Hell, athirst alway?
I do not see them here; but after death
God knows I know the faces I shall see,
Each one a murdered self, with low last breath.
“I am thyself,—what hast thou done to me?”
“And I—and I—thyself,” (lo! each one saith,)
“And thou thyself to all eternity!”
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Soto! Explore thyself!
832
Soto! Explore thyself!
Therein thyself shalt find
The "Undiscovered Continent"—
No Settler had the Mind.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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"Know thyself," said the old philosopher, "improve thyself," saith the new. Our great object in time is not to waste our passions and gifts on the things external that we must leave behind, but that we cultivate within us all that we can carry into the eternal progress beyond.
quote by Edward Bulwer-Lytton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bearer of False Smile
The Bearer of False Smile
By: Adam M. Snow
Ye humble thyself upon thy altar,
Calling upon thy bearer of false smile;
Lest be known thy truth are lies,
Yet oneself ye defile.
But one day ye would lose thyself,
And thyself would lose thy heart;
And by the month of twelfth be told,
The wake which lies apart.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Unhousel'd, Unanointed, Unanel'd
When these men must go alone
Sans an absolution,
When their sins are heavy as lead,
Thou Thyself will lift the head ;
Thou, High Priest, wilt whisper low,
Te Absolvo! ere they go.
When there is no sacrifice,
Bread and Wine for Thy disguise,
Come Thou in the Spirit then;
As at Agincourt our men
With desire a blade of grass
Served as Eucharist and Mass.
Lay Thyself the oil on lips,
Limbs and eyes, before the eclipse--
As once Magdalen did to Thee--
And so speed them, safe and free,
To lie down with Thee a while
And to waken to Thy smile.
They shall sit down at the Feast
Where Thou are Sacrament and Priest.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Sonnet XLVIII: Cupid, I Hate Thee
Cupid, I hate thee, which I'd have thee know;
A naked starveling ever may'st thou be.
Poor rogue, go pawn thy fascia and thy bow
For some few rags wherewith to cover thee.
Or, if thou'lt not, thy archery forbear,
To some base rustic do thyself prefer,
And when corn's sown or grown into the ear,
Practise thy quiver and turn crow-keeper.
Or, being blind, as fittest for the trade,
Go hire thyself some bungling harper's boy;
They that are blind are often minstrels made;
So may'st thou live, to thy fair mother's joy,
That whilst with Mars she holdeth her old way,
Thou, her blind son, may'st sit by them and play.
poem by Michael Drayton
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The River
I
As drones a bee with sultry hum
When all the world with heat lies dumb,
Thou dronest through the drowsèd lea,
To lose thyself and find the sea.
As fares the soul that threads the gloom
Toward an unseen goal of doom,
Thou farest forth all witlessly,
To lose thyself and find the sea.
II
My soul is such a stream as thou,
Lapsing along it heeds not how;
In one thing only unlike thee,-
Losing itself, it finds no sea.
Albeit I know a day shall come
When its dull waters will be dumb;
And then this river-soul of Me,
Losing itself, shall find the sea.
poem by William Watson
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Spain 1873-'74
OUT of the murk of heaviest clouds,
Out of the feudal wrecks, and heap'd-up skeletons of kings,
Out of that old entire European debris--the shatter'd mummeries,
Ruin'd cathedrals, crumble of palaces, tombs of priests,
Lo! Freedom's features, fresh, undimm'd, look forth--the same
immortal face looks forth;
(A glimpse as of thy mother's face, Columbia,
A flash significant as of a sword,
Beaming towards thee.)
Nor think we forget thee, Maternal;
Lag'd'st thou so long? Shall the clouds close again upon thee? 10
Ah, but thou hast Thyself now appear'd to us--we know thee;
Thou hast given us a sure proof, the glimpse of Thyself;
Thou waitest there, as everywhere, thy time.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Sonnet XXXIII: I Might
I might!--unhappy word--O me, I might,
And then would not, or could not, see my bliss;
Till now wrapt in a most infernal night,
I find how heav'nly day, wretch! I did miss.
Heart, rend thyself, thou dost thyself but right;
No lovely Paris made thy Helen his,
No force, no fraud robb'd thee of thy delight,
Nor Fortune of thy fortune author is;
But to myself myself did give the blow,
While too much wit, forsooth, so troubled me
That I respects for both our sakes must show:
And yet could not by rising morn foresee
How fair a day was near: O punish'd eyes,
That I had been more foolish,--or more wise!
poem by Philip Sidney
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Astrophel and Stella: XXXIII
I might!--unhappy word--O me, I might,
And then would not, or could not, see my bliss;
Till now wrapt in a most infernal night,
I find how heav'nly day, wretch! I did miss.
Heart, rend thyself, thou dost thyself but right;
No lovely Paris made thy Helen his,
No force, no fraud robb'd thee of thy delight,
Nor Fortune of thy fortune author is;
But to myself myself did give the blow,
While too much wit, forsooth, so troubled me
That I respects for both our sakes must show:
And yet could not by rising morn foresee
How fair a day was near: O punish'd eyes,
That I had been more foolish,--or more wise!
poem by Philip Sidney
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Sonnet 4: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend
Upon thy self thy beauty's legacy?
Nature's bequest gives nothing, but doth lend,
And being frank she lends to those are free.
Then, beauteous niggard why dost thou abuse,
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
Profitless usurer, why dost thou use
So great a sum of sums yet canst not live?
For having traffic with thyself alone,
Thou of thyself thy sweet self dost deceive.
Then how when nature calls thee to be gone,
What acceptable audit canst thou leave?
Thy unused beauty must be tombed with thee,
Which usèd, lives th' executor to be.
poem by William Shakespeare
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