Nebuchadnezzar's Fall
Frowning over the riddle that Daniel told,
Down through the mist hung garden, below a feeble sun,
The King of Persia walked: oh, the chilling cold!
His mind was webbed with a grey shroud vapour-spun.
Here for the pride of his soaring eagle heart,
Here for his great hand searching the skies for food,
Here for his courtship of Heaven's high stars he shall smart,
Nebuchadnezzar shall fall, crawl, be subdued.
Hot sun struck through the vapour, leaf strewn mould
Breathed sweet decay: old Earth called for her child.
Mist drew off from his mind, Sun scattered gold,
Warmth came and earthy motives fresh and wild.
Down on his knees he sinks, the stiff-necked King,
Stoops and kneels and grovels, chin to the mud.
Out from his changed heart flutter on startled wing
The fancy birds of his Pride, Honour, Kinglihood.
He crawls, he grunts, he is beast-like, frogs and snails
His diet, and grass, and water with hand for cup.
He herds with brutes that have hooves and horns and tails,
He roars in his anger, he scratches, he looks not up.
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Visit From An Angel
...Your fragile spirit-
'Tis but a vapour now...
Ethereal in atmospheric mist-
...Ephemeral in time...not lasting-
The Firmaments Divinity Touched Kiss...
Angelic gossemer wings, they do- flutter
...Long past, pearl white velvet tatted lace...
A Halo of Yellow Gold Circlet...
...Radiates, a glow from your face...
...Realizing your visit to be temporary-
Too soon, your vapour disolves in the mist...
...Leaving a shower of pearly white dust...
Touched, I believe, by your sweet kiss! ...
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Misty Day
Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
The mist hangs low o'er the wooded hill,
The soft white mist and the heavy cloud
The sun and the face of heaven shroud.
The birds are thick in the dripping trees,
That drop their pearls to the beggar breeze;
No songs are rife where songs are wont,
Each singer crouches in his haunt.
Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
Whene'er thy loving voice is still,
The cloud and mist hide the sky from me,
Whene'er thy face I cannot see.
My thoughts fly back from the chill without,
My mind in the storm drops doubt on doubt,
No songs arise. Without thee, love,
My soul sinks down like a frightened dove.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bank On Your Love
One lonely eye faces the queen
How far she goes remains to be seen
She can be hard and she knows it
She plays her heart and doesnt show it
Cold night cold like me
No lov elost betting on the king
And its a hard unknown
Before the hand is showing
The con is out when the eagle flies
If you know the hand is quicker than the eye
Can I bank on your love
Hands down left high and dry
Games in the night are quicker than the eye
That aint love or affection
The dealer changed direction
Bets are high and Im losing enough
Wont anybody play fair with my love
cause its hard not knowing
And my heart is showing
The king is out and the eagle flies
Dont you know the hand is quicker than the eye
Can I bank on your love
song performed by by Hall & Oates
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Welcome And Farewell
QUICK throbb'd my heart: to norse! haste, haste,
And lo! 'twas done with speed of light;
The evening soon the world embraced,
And o'er the mountains hung the night.
Soon stood, in robe of mist, the oak,
A tow'ring giant in his size,
Where darkness through the thicket broke,
And glared with hundred gloomy eyes.
From out a hill of clouds the moon
With mournful gaze began to peer:
The winds their soft wings flutter'd soon,
And murmur'd in mine awe-struck ear;
The night a thousand monsters made,
Yet fresh and joyous was my mind;
What fire within my veins then play'd!
What glow was in my bosom shrin'd!
I saw thee, and with tender pride
Felt thy sweet gaze pour joy on me;
While all my heart was at thy side.
And every breath I breath'd for thee.
The roseate hues that spring supplies
Were playing round thy features fair,
And love for me--ye Deities!
I hoped it, I deserved it ne'er!
But, when the morning sun return'd,
Departure filled with grief my heart:
Within thy kiss, what rapture burn'd!
But in thy look, what bitter smart!
I went--thy gaze to earth first roved
Thou follow'dst me with tearful eye:
And yet, what rapture to be loved!
And, Gods, to love--what ecstasy!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Pride
A stone cast into the sky
Must surely fall down to the earth
No matter how greenish the grass is
It is a rich delicacy to herds
Monkey defies instruction to be cautious
It ends up climbing trees beyond branches
Pride and damnation are borne twins
Accolades based on pride leads to fall
Beauty anchors on pride vanishes
No proud can see God
The rewards of pride are
Shame, dishonour, rejection....
Pride descreates throne
A king with garment of pride
Will end up naked at market square
A prince riding on a horse with countenance
Will be trodden upon on the street
If people are hailing you;
If the world urges you on;
Beware, make youself humble
For no one queue behind the proud
A word is enough.......
poem by Babatunde Aremu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Servitors of the highest God
On the plain of Dura
a twenty-seven meter high
golden statue stand,
that people can see for miles far
and the esteemed people,
commanders and princes
and the king is there
with a big crowd
and almost everybody that serves him.
In different languages it is announced
that everybody must fall down,
have got to pray to it
when the music instruments play
and we see the king
sitting boldly on his throne
and the people are excited,
it’s a great festival
and suddenly there is silence,
in the big fire oven
flames shoot up brightly
and expectation is written on faces.
All at once the sound rises
of horn, zither, flute, lute
harp and bagpipes
and all kinds of instruments.
Around us the crowds of people bend down
onto the earth and the three of us stand
while a light winds is pulling on our cloaks
and I lift my hand
to shade the sun from shining in my eyes
while the music is inundating
and everybody can hear the music
and friends shout in fear to us:
“Bend! Bend down!
Bend before the master and lord! ”
Armed soldier take us
right up to king Nebuchadnezzar
and it’s clear that he is raging
and indignantly he gets up from his throne
and walks right up to us
and in anger he wants to know
if we are impudent
to disobey his commands?
“Are you too stupid to know
that no God
can save you from my hand? ”
We say that the God that we serve
is almighty and if He does not rescue us,
it will be known that we serve
no other gods.
At that moment Nebuchadnezzar gets angrier
and his face is red with rage
and in his eyes hate is glowing
and he stops talking
shouting loudly for the fire to be made
seven times hotter
and his servants run in fear
to the oven to make it still hotter
and there are flames and clouds of smoke.
“Take them to the fire,
take them to the fire, I command you, ”
Nebuchadnezzar roars at the strongest men
of his army and we are cuffed
and in our clothes
are thrown into the fire
causing us to fall right into the flames
and those that threw us in
are immediately killed by the great heat
and we cannot even
feel the heat
and nothing of us is burning
and while we are still talking
with each other
the Son of God
himself visits us right there
and a distance from the oven
the king shouts in great fear:
“Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego
servitors of the highest God,
come out of the fire! ”
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Little HandMaiden
The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
He little knows for his toil and care,
That the bride is gone and the bower is bare.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
The sun shines bright through the casement high-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
The little handmaid, with a laughing eye,
Looks down on the king's son, strolling by.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
'He little knows that the bride is gone,
And the Earl knows little as he;
She is fled with her lover afar last night
And the King's son is left to me.'
And back to her chamber with velvety step
The little handmaid did glide,
And a gold key took from her bosom sweet,
And opened the great chests wide.
She bound her hair with a band of blue,
And a garland of lilies sweet;
And put on her delicate silken shoes,
With roses at her feet.
She clad her body in spotless white,
With a girdle as red as blood.
The glad white raiment her beauty bound,
As the sepels blind the bud.
And round and round her white neck she flung
A necklace of sapphires blue;
On one white finger of either hand
A shining ring she drew.
And down the stairway and out of the door
She glided, as soft and light,
As an airy tuft of a thistle seed
Might glide through the grasses bright.
And into the garden sweet she stole-
The little birds carolled loud-
Her beauty shone as a star might shine
In the rift of the morning cloud.
The King's son walked in the garden fair,
And the little handmaiden came,
Through the midst of a shimmer of roses red,
Like a sunbeam through a flame.
The King's son marvelled, his heart leaped up,
'And art thou my bride?' said he,
'For, North or South, I have never beheld
A lovelier maid than thee.'
'And dost thou love me?' the little maid cried,
'A fine King's son, I wis!'
And the king's son took her with both his hands,
And her ruddy lips did kiss.
And the little maid laughed till the beaded tears,
Ran down in a silver rain.
'O foolish King's son!' and she clapped her hands,
Till the gold rings rang again.
'O King's son, foolish and fooled art thou,
For a goodly game is played:
Thy bride is away with her lover last night,
And I am her little handmaid.'
And the King's son sware a great oath, said he-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
'If the Earl's fair daughter a traitress be,
The little handmaid is enough for me.'
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
And the little handmaiden walketh there,
But the old Earl pulleth his beard for care.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Crumbling Land
In a while Ill find the time to make the sunshine mine
In a smile I saw a single eagle in the sky
Wheeling, soaring, gliding high
On a hill there lived a man with many shining things
Shiny gold, shiny car and shiny diamond rings
Wining, dining, shining king
Now the eagle flies in clear blue skies
Drinking in the clear blue well
Back here on the ground another dealer coughs and dies
But fifty more come rolling off the floor production line
Then a man commuting like a village on the sand
In his hand a moving picture of the crumbling land
Screaming, dealing, movie man
Here we go, hold your breath to see if something blows
Close your eyes, count till ten and see the sunrise rise
Gliding high into the sky
By the holy mansion, let the guardian rise
Upon the finger of the king
On high the eagle flies, that glitter all of gold
Then wheeling in a cloudy sky, he flies into the sun
song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bible Stories: Daniel, Bel and the Dragon
When King Astyages died,
Cyrus of Persia became king;
Daniel was his honored companion.
The Babylonians’ idol was Bel;
Each day, they offered twelve bushels of flour,
Forty sheep and fifty gallons of wine;
The king too worshipped Bel;
But Daniel worshipped his own God!
When the King asked Daniel,
‘Why don’t you worship Bel? ’
Daniel answered he didn’t revere
Any man-made idols,
But worshipped the One, living God,
Who’d created heaven and the earth.
The king asked him, “Isn’t Bel’s a living God?
He eats and drinks each day”
But Daniel told him not to be deceived;
The idol was just inner clay,
And outer brass that never ate nor drank.
The angered King ushered the priests,
And ordered them to prove
That Bel ate /drank each day;
If so, Daniel would die for blasphemy;
If not, all of them would be killed;
The priests agreed to prove the same;
There were seventy priests, their wives and children.
The king entered the temple;
The priests asked him to place the food
And wine himself, and shut the door,
And seal it by his signet ring;
The priests didn’t care as below the statue,
They had a secret route through which they went
In and out, devouring the offerings.
When the food had been placed,
Then Daniel sifted ashes all
O’er the temple-floor;
With the help of servants,
in the king’s presence and left;
The door was sealed by the king’s ring.
At night, the priests and others secretly
went in and ate everything;
Next day, the king with Daniel came
And opened the sealed temple door,
But found that the food had vanished!
The king shouted aloud to Bel,
“You’re great and undeceiving God.”
But Daniel laughed and showed the king
The footsteps on the temple’s floor;
The king agreed that it was that of
men, women and children.
The enraged king then seized the priests
They showed the secret route;
They were all put to death;
The king gave Daniel the temple of Bel;
Daniel destroyed both Bel and the temple.
The Babylonians revered a dragon;
The king asked Daniel, “Isn’t this a living God? ”
But Daniel said that he worshipped
Only his one, living God;
If permitted by the king,
He would slay the dragon
by sword or club.
So, Daniel fed the dragon
Cakes containing pitch, fat and hair;
The dragon consumed it all
and burst open dead!
The angered Babylonians
Spread word that the king had turned a Jew;
They demanded that Daniel
Be put into a lion’s den;
Compelled, the king did as they urged.
Daniel was inside the den
For six days with seven lions;
The lions were not fed anything;
They were denied the daily food
Of two human bodies and two sheep.
The prophet Habakkuk was in Judea;
While taking food to the reapers,
God sent an angel to him
And ordered him take dinner to Daniel;
Habakkuk told he had never seen Babylon,
The angel took him by his crown of head
And put him aloft the lion’s den with the food;
The prophet shouted to Daniel
To come and eat the food given by God;
Daniel thanked the Lord for his remembrance.
On seventh day, the king went to the den,
He thought that Daniel would be dead;
To his utter surprise, he was alive;
He took him out and praised
The one living God of Daniel.
He threw into the lion’s den;
All those who plotted against Daniel;
Immediately, they were all killed
And devoured by the hungry lions.
(4-11-2007)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alexander The Great
my son ask for thyself another
Kingdom for that wich I leave
Is too small for thee
(king philip of macedonia - 339 b.c.)
Near to the east
In a part of ancient greece
In an ancient land called macedonia
Was born a son
To philip of macedon
The legend his name was alexander
At the age of nineteen
He became the macedon king
And he swore to free all of asia minor
By the aegian sea
In 334 b.c.
He utterly beat the armies of persia
Alexander the great
His name struck fear into hearts of men
Alexander the great
Became a legend mongst mortal men
King darius the third
Defeated fled persia
The scythians fell by the river of jaxartes
Then egypt fell to the macedon king as well
And he founded the city called alexandria
By the tigris river
He met king darius again
And crushed him again at the battle of arbela
Entering babylon
And susa treasures he found
Took persepolis the capital of persia
Alexander the great
His name struck fear into hearts of men
Alexander the great
Became a God mongst mortal men
A phrygian king had bound a chariot yoke
And alexander cut the gordian knot
And the legend said that who untied the knot
He would become the master of asia
Helonism he spread far and wide
The macedonian learned mind
Their culture was a western way of life
He paved the way for christianity
Marching on marching on
The battle weary marching side by side
Alexanders army line by line
They wouldnt follow him to india
Tired of the combat, pain and the glory
Alexander the great
His name struck fear into hearts of men
Alexander the great
He died of fever in babylon
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alexander The Great[356 - 323 Bc]
(harris)
My son, ask for thyself another kingdom,
For that which I leave is to small for thee.
Near to the east, in a part of ancient greece,
In an ancient land called macedonia,
Was born a son to philip of macedon,
The legend his name was alexander.
At the age of nineteen, he became the macedon king,
And swore to free all of asia minor,
By the aegian sea in 334 bc,
He utterly beat the armies of persia.
Chorus:
Alexander the great,
His name struck fear into hearts of men,
Alexander the great,
Became a legend mongst mortal men.
King darius the third, defeated fled persia,
The scythians fell by the river jaxartes,
Then egypt fell to the macedon king as well,
And he founded the city called alexandria.
By the tigris river, he met king darius again,
And crushed him again in the battle of arbela,
Entering babylon and susa, treasures he found,
Took persepolis, the capital of persia.
Chorus:
Alexander the great,
His name struck fear into hearts of men,
Alexander the great,
Became a God amongst mortal men.
A phrygian king had bound a chariot yoke,
And alexander cut the gordion knot,
And legend said that who untied the knot,
He would become the master of asia.
Helonism he spread far and wide,
The macedonian learned mind,
Their culture was a western way of life,
He paved the way for christianity.
Marching on, marching on.
The battle weary marching side by side,
Alexanders army line by line,
They wouldnt follow him to india,
Tired of the combat, pain and the glory.
Chorus:
Alexander the great,
His name struck fear into hearts of men,
Alexander the great,
He died of fever in babylon.
song performed by by Iron Maiden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Indolent Mist of Autumn
The indolent mist of autumn at last dispersed…
It hovers between the towers, like the incense full of dreams
That will linger in the naves after the most solemn Mass;
And it sleeps like cloth spread on the dejected, grey ramparts.
It comes unfolded then folds back on itself, like a wing
In imperceptible motion, yet incessant, in the fog;
All is shaded to a blur and turns slightly divine,
As beneath the pallid brushing, all is vague and lost in dreams.
All is a shade of grey, cloaked in the colour of fog:
The sky with its ancient pinions, the water and the poplars,
Old friends, reconciled, so easily, with the haze of the past autumn,
Like all things that will soon be nothing but the faintest memory.
The victorious mist, against the pale depth of air,
Has diluted even the accustomed towers,
Whose grey thoughts are now gone forever,
Like some vague dream, or a geometry of vapour.
poem by Georges Rodenbach
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The Grey Road
A sun-flash on his mounting wing,
A wild note soaring high—
The lark is up, the minstrel king,
The poet of the sky.
To thrill, to sing of Youth and Spring
Those golden numbers flowed.
What message then
Has he for men
Who tread the long grey road?
Knee-deep in grass the cattle stand,
The river winds along,
And chants through sunny meadow land
A low mysterious song.
Ah! sunlit vale and lover’s tale
Youth’s day is quickly gone—
Past current-beat
And meadow-sweet
The grey road stretches on!
Grim bastions frowning down below—
And rising, tier on tier,
Sublime, and crowned with ageless snow
The awful peaks appear.
The heights belong unto the strong
Who scale, by crags untried,
The great cliffs face—
But at its base
The grey road turns aside!
No hope in Heaven, no minstrel strain,
No vales where summer shone
A leaden sky, a silent plain,
The grey road stretching on.
O Christ, who trod the thorny path,
And bore the bitter load,
Have mercy then
On weary men
Who tread the long grey road!
poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The King Of England
In that eclipse of noon when joy was hushed
Like the bird's song beneath unnatural night,
And Terror's footfall in the darkness crushed
The rose imperial of our delight,
Then, even then, though no man cried 'He comes,'
And no man turned to greet him passing there,
With phantom heralds challenging renown
And silent-throbbing drums
I saw the King of England, hale and fair,
Ride out with a great train through London town.
Unarmed he rode, but in his ruddy shield
The lions bore the dint of many a lance,
And up and down his mantle's azure field
Were strewn the lilies plucked in famous France.
Before him went with banner floating wide
The yeoman breed that served his honour best,
And mixed with these his knights of noble blood;
But in the place of pride
His admirals in billowy lines abreast
Convoyed him close like galleons on the flood.
Full of a strength unbroken showed his face
And his brow calm with youth's unclouded dawn,
But round his lips were lines of tenderer grace
Such as no hand but Time's hath ever drawn.
Surely he knew his glory had no part
In dull decay, nor unto Death must bend,
Yet surely too of lengthening shadows dreamed
With sunset in his heart,
So brief his beauty now, so near the end,
And now so old and so immortal seemed.
O King among the living, these shall hail
Sons of thy dust that shall inherit thee:
O King of men that die, though we must fail
Thy life is breathed from thy triumphant sea.
O man that servest men by right of birth,
Our hearts' content thy heart shall also keep,
Thou too with us shalt one day lay thee down
In our dear native earth,
Full sure the King of England, while we sleep,
For ever rides abroad, through London town.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
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The Rising Of The Storm
THE lake's dark breast
Is all unrest,
It heaves with a sob and a sigh.
Like a tremulous bird,
From its slumber stirred,
The moon is a-tilt in the sky.
From the silent deep
The waters sweep,
But faint on the cold white stones,
And the wavelets fly
With a plaintive cry
O'er the old earth's bare, bleak bones.
And the spray upsprings
On its ghost-white wings,
And tosses a kiss at the stars;
While a water-sprite,
In sea-pearls dight,
Hums a sea-hymn's solemn bars.
Far out in the night,
On the wavering sight
I see a dark hull loom;
And its light on high,
Like a Cyclops' eye,
Shines out through the mist and gloom.
Now the winds well up
From the earth's deep cup,
And fall on the sea and shore,
And against the pier
The waters rear
And break with a sullen roar.
Up comes the gale,
And the mist-wrought veil
Gives way to the lightning's glare,
And the cloud-drifts fall,
A sombre pall,
O'er water, earth, and air.
The storm-king flies,
His whip he plies,
And bellows down the wind.
The lightning rash
With blinding flash
Comes pricking on behind.
Rise, waters, rise,
And taunt the skies
With your swift-flitting form.
Sweep, wild winds, sweep,
And tear the deep
To atoms in the storm.
And the waters leapt,
And the wild winds swept,
And blew out the moon in the sky,
And I laughed with glee,
It was joy to me
As the storm went raging by!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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November
There is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.
Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.
Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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September Morn
I watch the World around me
As again I hear nature call
For it is the end of summertime
And the awakening of a beautiful fall.
The leaves have changed their colors
The skies became icy white
My heart becomes exceedingly joyful
At Septembers, beautiful sight.
The rustling wind has turned to cold
The leaves have changed to brown
This moment, I pray to hold
As the leaves fall onto the ground.
The squirrels scurry from their trees
The birds have all flown away
It is another September morning
I feel it with each step that I take.
With a cold wind against my back
I journey to a great tree
To pick up the jewels that she left there
An acorn, and a lonely leaf.
I shiver as I walk
With a leaf and acorn in hand
I watch fall as it arrives around me,
So happy is this man.
I then walk up unto my wife
I present her with the leaf and acorn
So happy I am with this fall,
That I give Her my September morn.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pig Heaven
As I stand by the side of the river watching the virgin Mary float by watching the currents drag her by a low song how long is gone a low song under the waves would she be saved under the waves would she be saved but
I sit back and remember god and a bomba baby burn on white angel wing all the children start to sing voices soaring to the sky time is now - time to hang 'em high...
cannibalistic cardinals suck the whirlpool dry never stop to ask why - jagged teeth across the sand are they blind pray the big man -O the king rat who ordered the attack O king rat who ordered the attack...on the edge of the eve of the saint evil eye catmanfall to the ground crows picking at his brain ten thousand times he gone insane new day riders stormed the walls the bigger they are the harder they fall...
ain't got no time for love I ain't got no time for love ain't got no time for love he fall down -shock-she fall down -shock-we fall down -shock- we fall down -shock-ain't got no time for love ain't got no time for love ain't got no time for love ain't got no time for love but
I sit back and remember go and a bomba baby burn on white angel wing all the children start to sing voices soaring to the sky time is now -time to hang 'em high...
deep in the blazing mud dogs in the blazing mud wild in the streets wild from the heat symphony angel rape got no hope no escape blood drip eye step inside step inside slaughter the grey slaughter.. it's all a circus of fear anyway ain't no master mind to care today dancing on a gruesome crime sundown gonna trap the time water birds flaming dove seek to kill what they most love.
song performed by by White Zombie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the open plain (Catena Rondo)
Some flowers rise up bright from tiny seeds,
blooms appear with heads searching for the sun;
on this earth so it's been since time begun,
some flowers rise up bright from tiny seeds,
blooms appear with heads searching for the sun
they rejoice over a day that is new
are fresh with the glistening morning dew;
blooms appear with heads searching for the sun
they rejoice over a day that is new
as bees and butterflies flutter along
birds do sing the happiest kind of song
they rejoice over a day that is new,
as bees and butterflies flutter along
wild deer graze at the soft tender green grass
while they in massive herds do slowly pass
as bees and butterflies flutter along
wild deer graze at the soft tender green grass
some flowers rise up bright from tiny seeds
grow to strength in a world full of big weeds,
wild deer graze at the soft tender green grass,
some flowers rise up bright from tiny seeds,
blooms appear with heads searching for the sun;
on this earth so it's been since time begun,
some flowers rise up bright from tiny seeds.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Three Island Songs
AFTER the wind in the wood,
Peace, and the night.
After the bond and the brood,
Flight.
After the height and the hush
Where the wild hawk swings,
Heart of the earth-loving thrush
Shaken with wings.
After the bloom and the leaf
Rain on the nest.
After the splendour and grief,
Rest.
After the hills and the far
Glories and gleams,
Cloud, and the dawn of a star,
And dreams.
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O, THE gray rocks of the islands and the hemlock green above them,
The foam beneath the wild rose bloom, the star above the shoal.
When I am old and weary I'll wake my heart to love them,
For the blue ways of the islands are wound about my soul.
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Here in the early even when the young gray dew is falling,
And the king-heron seeks his mate beyond the loneliest wild,
Still your heart in the twilight, and you'll hear the river calling
Through all her outmost islands to seek her lastborn child.
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I SAT among the green leaves, and heard the nuts falling,
The broad red butterflies were gold against the sun,
But in between the silence and the sweet birds calling
The nuts fell one by one.
Why should they fall and the year but half over ?
Why should sorrow seek me and I so young and kind ?
The leaf is on the bough and the dew is on the clover,
But the green nuts are falling in the wind.
O, I gave my lips away and all my soul behind them.
Why should trouble follow and the quick tears start ?
The little birds may love and fly with only God to mind them,
But the green nuts are falling on my heart.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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