France
Broke to every known mischance, lifted over all
By the light sane joy of life, the buckler of the Gaul,
Furious in luxury, merciless in toil,
Terrible with strength that draws from her tireless soil;
Strictest judge of her own worth, gentlest of man's mind,
First to follow Truth and last to leave old Truths behind-
France beloved of every soul that loves its fellow-kind!
Ere our birth (rememberest thou?) side by side we lay
Fretting in the womb of Rome to begin our fray.
Ere men knew our tongues apart, our one task was known-
Each to mould the other's fate as he wrought his own.
To this end we stirred mankind till all Earth was ours,
Till our world-end strifes begat wayside Thrones and Powers-
Puppets that we made or broke to bar the other's path-
Necessary, outpost-folk, hirelings of our wrath.
To this end we stormed the seas, tack for tack, and burst
Through the doorways of new worlds, doubtful which was first,
Hand on hilt (rememberest thou?) ready for the blow-
Sure, whatever else we met, we should meet our foe.
Spurred or balked at every stride by the other's strength,
So we rode the ages down and every ocean's length!
Where did you refrain from us or we refrain from you?
Ask the wave that has not watched war between us two?
Others held us for a while, but with weaker charms,
These we quitted at the call for each other's arms.
Eager toward the known delight, equally we strove-
Each the other's mystery, terror, need, and love.
To each other's open court with our proofs we came.
Where could we find honour else, or men to test our claim!
From each other's throat we wrenched-valour's last reward -
That extorted word of praise gasped 'twixt lunge and guard,
In each other's cup we poured mingled blood and tears,
Brutal joys, unmeasured hopes, intolerable fears-
All that soiled or salted life for a thousand years.
Proved beyond the need of proof, matched in every clime,
O Companion, we have lived greatly through all time!
Yoked in knowledge and remorse, now we come to rest,
Laughing at old villainies that Time has turned to jest;
Pardoning old necessities no pardon can efface-
That undying sin we shared in Rouen market-place.
Now we watch the new years shape, wondering if they hold
Fiercer lightnings in their heart than we launched of old.
Now we hear new voices rise, question, boast or gird,
As we raged (rememberest thou?) when our crowds were stirred.
Now we count new keels afloat, and new hosts on land,
Massed like ours (rememberest thou?) when our strokes were planned.
We were schooled for dear life's sake, to know each other's blade.
What can Blood and Iron make more than we have made?
We have learned by keenest use to know each other's mind,
What shall Blood and Iron loose that we cannot bind?
We who swept each other's coast, sacked each other's home,
Since the sword of Brennus clashed on the scales at Rome,
Listen, count and close again, wheeling girth to girth,
In the linked and steadfast guard set for peace on earth!
Broke to every known mischance, lifted over all
By the light sane joy of life, the buckler of the Gaul;
Furious in luxury, merciless in toil,
Terrible with strength renewed from a tireless soil;
Strictest judge of her own worth, gentlest of man's mind,
First to face the Truth and last to leave old Truths behind-
France, beloved of every soul that loves or serves its kind!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
If I Gave You My Heart
If I gave you my heart
Where would you be
Would it mean nothing
If not for me
If I gave you my eyes
What would they see
Would they see nothing
If not for me
But I gave you my hand and my sign and my soul on the earth
And I gave up on truth when I heard about the words
I lived out of love when I gave it away
And I sold off my soul when theres no one to pay
If I gave you my hand
What would it write
Would it say nothing
Or say its alright
If I gave you my arms
Would they hold you tight
First blood (? ) in morning
Or bid you goodnight
And I gave you my strength and my worth and I gave you my gift
And I moved on the first and I left us to drift
And I reap from the soil and I build hopes from wood
Its a new better life and we have to ensure
And I gave you my dream of the world and you stole the key
You sang to the wind in the whole ? ? ? sea
And I feel my weight and I guard my soul
And I found my beliefs when I found my control
I gave you my hand and my soul on the earth
And I gave up on the truth when I heard about the words
So I lived out of love when I gave it away
And I sold off my soul when theres no one to pay
Another version
---------------------------------------------------------
If I gave you my heart where would you be,
Would it mean nothing if not for me?
If I gave you my eyes what would they see,
Would they see nothing if not for me?
But I gave you my hand and my sign,
And my soul on the earth,
And I gave up on truth,
When I heard about the worst
So I lived out of love
When I gave it away
And I sold off my soul
When there was no-one to pay
If I gave you my hand what would it write
Would it say nothing or say its alright
If I gave you my arms would they hold you tight
First light of morning or bid you goodnight
And I gave you my strength and my worth
And I gave you my gift
And I moved on the first
And I left us to drift
And Ill reap from the soil
And Ill build home from wood
Its a new better life
And we have 2 and should
And I gave you my dream of the world
And we stood on the quay
And we sang to the wind
And the whole darkening sea
And I feel my weight
And I guard my soul
And I found my beliefs
When I found my control
I gave you my hand
And my soul on the earth
And I gave up on truth
When I heard about the worst
So I lived out of love
When I gave it away
And I sold off my soul
When there was no-one to pay
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Love Fulfilled
Hast thou longed through weary days
For the sight of one loved face?
Mast thou cried aloud for rest,
Mid the pain of sundering hours;
Cried aloud for sleep and death,
Since the sweet unhoped for best
Was a shadow and a breath?
O, long now, for no fear lowers
O’er these faint feet-kissing flowers.
O, rest now; and yet in sleep
All thy longing shalt thou keep.
Thou shalt rest and have no fear
Of a dull awaking near,
Of a life for ever blind,
Uncontent and waste and wide.
Thou shalt wake and think it sweet
That thy love is near and kind.
Sweeter still for lips to meet;
Sweetest that thine heart doth hide
Longing all unsatisfied
With all longing’s answering
Howsoever close ye cling.
Thou rememberest how of old
E’en thy very pain grew cold,
How thou might’st not measure bliss
E’en when eyes and hands drew nigh.
Thou rememberest all regret
For the scarce remembered kiss,
The lost dream of how they met,
Mouths once parched with misery.
Then seemed Love born but to die,
Now unrest, pain, bliss are one,
Love, unhidden and alone.
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Entire Surrender
Peace has unveiled her smiling face,
And wooes thy soul to her embrace,
Enjoyed with ease, if thou refrain
From earthly love, else sought in vain;
She dwells with all who truth prefer,
But seeks not them who seek not her.
Yield to the Lord, with simple heart,
All that thou hast, and all thou art;
Renounce all strength but strength divine;
And peace shall be for ever thine:
Behold the path which I have trod,
My path, till I go home to God.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tribute To The Memory Of The Same Dog
LIE here, without a record of thy worth,
Beneath a covering of the common earth!
It is not from unwillingness to praise,
Or want of love, that here no Stone we raise;
More thou deserv'st; but 'this' man gives to man,
Brother to brother, 'this' is all we can.
Yet they to whom thy virtues made thee dear
Shall find thee through all changes of the year:
This Oak points out thy grave; the silent tree
Will gladly stand a monument of thee.
We grieved for thee, and wished thy end were past;
And willingly have laid thee here at last:
For thou hadst lived till everything that cheers
In thee had yielded to the weight of years;
Extreme old age had wasted thee away,
And left thee but a glimmering of the day;
Thy ears were deaf, and feeble were thy knees,--
I saw thee stagger in the summer breeze,
Too weak to stand against its sportive breath,
And ready for the gentlest stroke of death.
It came, and we were glad; yet tears were shed;
Both man and woman wept when thou wert dead;
Not only for a thousand thoughts that were,
Old household thoughts, in which thou hadst thy share;
But for some precious boons vouchsafed to thee,
Found scarcely anywhere in like degree!
For love, that comes wherever life and sense
Are given by God, in thee was most intense;
A chain of heart, a feeling of the mind,
A tender sympathy, which did thee bind
Not only to us Men, but to thy Kind:
Yea, for thy fellow-brutes in thee we saw
A soul of love, love's intellectual law:--
Hence, if we wept, it was not done in shame;
Our tears from passion and from reason came,
And, therefore, shalt thou be an honoured name!
poem by William Wordsworth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 18 part 2
v.20-26
L. M.
Sincerity proved and rewarded.
Lord, thou hast seen my soul sincere,
Hast made thy truth and love appear;
Before mine eyes I set thy laws,
And thou hast owned my righteous cause.
Since I have learned thy holy ways,
I've walked upright before thy face;
Or if my feet did e'er depart,
'Twas never with a wicked heart.
What sore temptations broke my rest!
What wars and strugglings in my breast!
But through thy grace, that reigns within,
I guard against my darling sin:
That sin which close besets me still,
That works and strives against my will:
When shall thy Spirit's sovereign power
Destroy it, that it rise no more?
[With an impartial hand, the Lord
Deals out to mortals their reward;
The kind and faithful souls shall find
A God as faithful and as kind.
The just and pure shall ever say,
Thou art more pure, more just than they;
And men that love revenge shall know
God hath an arm of vengeance too.]
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Thou Dost Not Know
Thou dost not know it! but to hear
One word of praise from thee,
There is no pain I would not bear,
No task too great for me.
My hands could tireless toil all day,
My feet could tireless run,
If at the close thy lips would say,
'Brave, noble heart, well done.'
* * * * *
Thou dost not know it! but to win
Approval from thine eyes,
My soul has conquered many a sin,
And conquering neared the skies.
And though the reward may not be given,
In all my earthly days,
I feel that after death, in heaven,
Thy lips will give me praise.
* * * * *
Thou dost not know, may never know,
That all I strive to be,
All things praiseworthy that I do,
I strive, and do, for thee.
And though I seldom see thy face,
Or touch thy hand, my friend,
Those meetings are the means of grace,
That help me to the end.
* * * * *
Thou dost not know that thy grand life
Has been my beacon light.
I aim to conquer in the strife,
That I may reach thy height.
I strive to live, so that my feet
May walk the fields most fair,
For the after-life, seems, oh! so sweet,
Because thou wilt be there.
* * * * *
Thou dost not know how brave and strong
A woman's heart can be.
But few could hide so well and long
What mine has hid from thee.
So well, that should this idyl chance
To meet thine eye, my friend,
Thou'd scan it with a careless glance,
Nor dream to whom 'twas penned.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Quest for the truth
Oh the truth, my lord, my king, come to me
Thou don't deserve to stay there
Thy speed will get slower where
With false and false cries it cover
I know thou look small like a word
None can forget that thou are the sharpest sword
But thy density is more than earth
So are thou kicked down and drowned
Oh the truth, the standard and the winner
Come to me with the pace of a thunder
And make me and all to wonder
Though on the way are the thick woods
Pour upon me like the angry floods
Oh the truth, the judge and the conqueror
Droop the dust and rise up with calms
For thee I have stretched far my arms
Thou will never desire to reside
Where Stumbles and stammers of false preside
My heart broke, dear truth, do the justice
Thou have no chance for it to ply
I beg you towards my heart to fly
Than the earth, thou weigh high
Will carry thou even if I die
Oh the truth, the strongest and immortal
My heart longs for thy presence
Rather for it now thou are the essence
Why suffer in the heart of dirty lane
As thou get treated, something as a vain
When I urge thou, with me to join
Why do thou take time and toss a coin
Oh the master, the savior, my truth,
Theft are my thoughts, thief is there
Dead are my dreams, killer is there
And why I say thou shouldn't be there
Come to me my darling, my truth
Come with the pure cry come with a jump
Like a baby from the mother's womb
I know Thy visit to my heart would
Pierce deep to cause a wound
But never would I mind
My thoughts would in a minute
Put down our culture
Like the hunt of a vulture
But my actions, they would never
I am harmless my love, my truth
And why I say thou should be here
Rush out from that heart and Rush into mine
I know thou hurt me but even I hug thou
Come on truth, come fast like a ray
Flowers are wreathed on your way
Thy knowledge sinks me, I confirm
Still I would try to be very firm
Oh my truth, the immortal and the perfect
I am eager waiting with my arms stretched
Reveal thy self and it makes me fetched
Its my word to you my truth
I would look after you
I will treat you as a king and serve you
I will treat you as a kid and care for you
I will treat you as the God and pray to you
poem by Praneeth Remidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Intellectual Intelligence
Intellectually smart are many today, but are lost in the spiritual fray,
Intelligent but, spiritually ignorant, about Truth, which God has sent,
Truth that surpasses present time; Truth without end by His Design,
Eternal Truth, that leads men to see, soon all must face an eternity.
Earthly intellect, all may not have, but, God offers in Christ a salve,
To open one’s eyes to much more, Truth from Him sound and sure.
Truth from The Word, as we hear it, applied through The Holy Spirit,
To each and to every earthly life, who come to God in Jesus Christ.
Earthly knowledge we have presently, shall be of little use eternally,
As upon each soul will be God’s hand, changing all we understand,
For no earthly mind can conceive, what in Heaven, we shall receive,
When we know the Truths of God, to be lifted from this earthly sod.
No mind has the knowledge of, what was prepared by Christ above,
Nor can any mind comprehend, how time in eternity, we shall spend,
And it’s the mindset of the earth, that denies a need of spiritual birth,
Swaying even the brightest men, from God’s Truth, to be born again.
Even men who are truly bright, avoid the saving Truth of God’s Light,
Which transforms the heart of man, directing his mind to God’s Plan,
A change only wrought by Grace, when we give God a special place,
In our hearts, for His dear Son, Who can change the heart of anyone.
(Copyright ©12/2008)
Victor Hugo
Heart of France for a hundred years,
Passionate, sensitive, proud, and strong,
Quick to throb with her hopes and fears,
Fierce to flame with her sense of wrong!
You, who hailed with a morning song
Dream-light gilding a throne of old:
You, who turned when the dream grew cold,
Singing still, to the light that shone
Pure from Liberty's ancient throne,
Over the human throng!
You, who dared in the dark eclipse,--
When the pygmy heir of a giant name
Dimmed the face of the land with shame,--
Speak the truth with indignant lips,
Call him little whom men called great,
Scoff at him, scorn him, deny him,
Point to the blood on his robe of state,
Fling back his bribes and defy him!
You, who fronted the waves of fate
As you faced the sea from your island home,
Exiled, yet with a soul elate,
Sending songs o'er the rolling foam,
Bidding the heart of man to wait
For the day when all should see
Floods of wrath from the frowning skies
Fall on an Empire founded in lies,
And France again be free!
You, who came in the Terrible Year
Swiftly back to your broken land,
Now to your heart a thousand times more dear,--
Prayed for her, sung to her, fought for her,
Patiently, fervently wrought for her,
Till once again,
After the storm of fear and pain,
High in the heavens the star of France stood clear!
You, who knew that a man must take
Good and ill with a steadfast soul,
Holding fast, while the billows roll
Over his head, to the things that make
Life worth living for great and small,--
Honour and pity and truth,
The heart and the hope of youth,
And the good God over all!
You, to whom work was rest,
Dauntless Toiler of the Sea,
Following ever the joyful quest
Of beauty on the shores of old Romance,
Bard of the poor of France,
And warrior-priest of world-wide charity!
You who loved little children best
Of all the poets that ever sung,
Great heart, golden heart,
Old, and yet ever young,
Minstrel of liberty,
Lover of all free, winged things,
Now at last you are free,--
Your soul has its wings!
Heart of France for a hundred years,
Floating far in the light that never fails you,
Over the turmoil of mortal hopes and fears
Victor, forever victor, the whole world hails you!
poem by Henry Van Dyke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnets LLXXI:LXXII:LXXIII: The Choice
I
Eat thou and drink; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Surely the earth, that's wise being very old,
Needs not our help. Then loose me, love, and hold
Thy sultry hair up from my face; that I
May pour for thee this golden wine, brim-high,
Till round the glass thy fingers glow like gold.
We'll drown all hours: thy song, while hours are toll'd,
Shall leap, as fountains veil the changing sky.
Now kiss, and think that there are really those,
My own high-bosomed beauty, who increase
Vain gold, vain lore, and yet might choose our way!
Through many years they toil; then on a day
They die not,—for their life was death,—but cease;
And round their narrow lips the mould falls close.
II
Watch thou and fear; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Or art thou sure thou shalt have time for death?
Is not the day which God's word promiseth
To come man knows not when? In yonder sky,
Now while we speak, the sun speeds forth: can I
Or thou assure him of his goal? God's breath
Even at this moment haply quickeneth
The air to a flame; till spirits, always nigh
Though screened and hid, shall walk the daylight here.
And dost thou prate of all that man shall do?
Canst thou, who hast but plagues, presume to be
Glad in his gladness that comes after thee?
Will his strength slay thy worm in Hell? Go to:
Cover thy countenance, and watch, and fear.
III
Think thou and act; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Outstretched in the sun's warmth upon the shore,
Thou say'st: “Man's measured path is all gone o'er:
Up all his years, steeply, with strain and sigh,
Man clomb until he touched the truth; and I,
Even I, am he whom it was destined for.”
How should this be? Art thou then so much more
Than they who sowed, that thou shouldst reap thereby?
Nay, come up hither. From this wave-washed mound
Unto the furthest flood-brim look with me;
Then reach on with thy thought till it be drown'd.
Miles and miles distant though the last line be,
And though thy soul sail leagues and leagues beyond,—
Still, leagues beyond those leagues, there is more sea.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Slow the love (Continues) Final Episode Undone
The beloved asked who told you this
Art thou God to decide the fate
Calling the episodes as the final
Did not the love tell you of the thought
So sacred but the blasphemy of love
As the story goes when the legendry lover
Adam Khan* dies with story teller in tears
From the audience a man with a sword
Bring him back or you pay with your life
The horse with the wings that thou flyeth
In the visions ah the beloved appeared
In dreams in the nature in the loneliness
Of nights and the afternoons thou spent
The episode who knows what final or primal
From the beloved thou wanted separation
In the religion of love none worshiped
None worshipper as no rituals in play
No ablution no baths in the rivers
Nothing is sacred and nothing is dear
Yet thou think to close the episode
Let the beloved be the guide don’t meddle
Decide not the fate that thou knowest not
Nothing in here and let the mystery
Of love unfold for the eyes and the ears
On the soil and down the horse on doorstep
To the city of love with the pride
Leave the judgment to the universal soul
He shall not judge the lovers as judgment for what
Just a breath away is the annihilation in waiting
Hold on the hands of beloved for a dance tonight
*Adam Khan-Durkhanai, epic story of love.
7/2/2009
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
O Flame of Living Love
O flame of living love,
That dost eternally
Pierce through my soul with so consuming heat,
Since there's no help above,
Make thou an end of me,
And break the bond of this encounter sweet.
O burn that burns to heal!
O more than pleasant wound!
And O soft hand, O touch most delicate,
That dost new life reveal,
That dost in grace abound,
And, slaying, dost from death to life translate!
O lamps of fire that shined
With so intense a light,
That those deep caverns where the senses live,
Which were obscure and blind,
Now with strange glories bright,
Both heat and light to his beloved give!
With how benign intent
Rememberest thou my breast,
Where thou alone abidest secretly;
And in thy sweet ascent,
With glory and good possessed,
How delicately thou teachest love to me!
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Song Of Life
Sing not of Rest
For heart, or brain, or the strong soul’s emotion
Beneath the shadow of Eternal peace!
There is no rest in Nature or surcease
Of Law, and Labour, in unceasing motion.
Sing not of Rest!
Sing not of Peace
On earth, or in the realms beyond our dreaming!
Progress and Retrogression all things draw
Within the edict of Eternal Law.
Search for the Real which lies beneath the Seeming.
Sing not of Peace
Sing thou of Toil,
Of toil that moulds to-day the larger morrow!
Move with stout heart on Life’s great battle-field
And wear the motto “Progress” on thy shield.
All that is best is won through toil and sorrow.
Sing thou of Toil!
Sing thou of Hope!
Of Hope that lights the world to strong endeavour!
Height beyond height but loftier summits show,
Depth beneath depth reveals a depth below.
Choose thou the best. There is no resting ever.
Sing thou of Hope!
Sing thou of Truth!
That which alone can stand when all is sifted;
That which Humanity in pain and tears
Has sought with patient toil through myriad years,
Till thou shalt see with radiant face uplifted
Eternal Truth.
poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To The True Romance
Thy face is far from this our war,
Our call and counter-cry,
I shall not find Thee quick and kind,
Nor know Thee till I die,
Enough for me in dreams to see
And touch Thy garments' hem:
Thy feet have trod so near to God
I may not follow them.
Through wantonness if men profess
They weary of Thy parts,
E'en let them die at blasphemy
And perish with their arts;
But we that love, but we that prove
Thine excellence august,
While we adore discover more
Thee perfect, wise, and just.
Since spoken word Man's Spirit stirred
Beyond his belly-need,
What is is Thine of fair design
In thought and craft and deed;
Each stroke aright of toil and fight,
That was and that shall be,
And hope too high, wherefore we die,
Has birth and worth in Thee.
Who holds by Thee hath Heaven in fee
To gild his dross thereby,
And knowledge sure that he endure
A child until he die --
For to make plain that man's disdain
Is but new Beauty's birth --
For to possess in loneliness
The joy of all the earth.
As Thou didst teach all lovers speech
And Life all mystery,
So shalt Thou rule by every school
Till love and longing die,
Who wast or yet the Lights were set,
A whisper in the Void,
Who shalt be sung through planets young
When this is clean destroyed.
Beyond the bounds our staring rounds,
Across the pressing dark,
The children wise of outer skies
Look hitherward and mark
A light that shifts, a glare that drifts,
Rekindling thus and thus,
Not all forlorn, for Thou hast borne
Strange tales to them of us.
Time hath no tide but must abide
The servant of Thy will;
Tide hath no time, for to Thy rhyme
The ranging stars stand still --
Regent of spheres that lock our fears,
Our hopes invisible,
Oh 'twas certes at Thy decrees
We fashioned Heaven and Hell!
Pure Wisdom hath no certain path
That lacks thy morning-eyne,
And captains bold by Thee controlled
Most like to Gods design;
Thou art the Voice to kingly boys
To lift them through the fight,
And Comfortress of Unsuccess,
To give the dead good-night --
A veil to draw 'twixt God His Law
And Man's infirmity,
A shadow kind to dumb and blind
The shambles where we die;
A rule to trick th' arithmetic
Too base of leaguing odds --
The spur of trust, the curb of lust,
Thou handmaid of the Gods!
O Charity, all patiently
Abiding wrack and scaith!
O Faith, that meets ten thousand cheats
Yet drops no jot of faith!
Devil and brute Thou dost transmute
To higher, lordlier show,
Who art in sooth that lovely Truth
The careless angels know!
Thy face is far from this our war,
Our call and counter-cry,
I may not find Thee quick and kind,
Nor know Thee till I die.
Yet may I look with heart unshook
On blow brought home or missed --
Yet may I hear with equal ear
The clarions down the List;
Yet set my lance above mischance
And ride the barriere --
Oh, hit or miss, how little 'tis,
My Lady is not there!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
For All We Have and Are
For all we have and are,
For all our children's fate,
Stand up and meet the war.
The Hun is at the gate!
Our world has passed away
In wantonness o'erthrown.
There is nothing left to-day
But steel and fire and stone.
Though all we knew depart,
The old commandments stand:
"In courage keep your heart,
In strength lift up your hand."
Once more we hear the word
That sickened earth of old:
"No law except the sword
Unsheathed and uncontrolled,"
Once more it knits mankind,
Once more the nations go
To meet and break and bind
A crazed and driven foe.
Comfort, content, delight --
The ages' slow-bought gain --
They shrivelled in a night,
Only ourselves remain
To face the naked days
In silent fortitude,
Through perils and dismays
Renewd and re-renewed.
Though all we made depart,
The old commandments stand:
"In patience keep your heart,
In strength lift up your hand."
No easy hopes or lies
Shall bring us to our goal,
But iron sacrifice
Of body, will, and soul.
There is but one task for all --
For each one life to give.
Who stands if freedom fall?
Who dies if England live?
poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
De Profundis
Come let us curse our Master ere we die,
For all our hopes in endless ruin lie.
The good is dead. Let us curse God most High.
Four thousand years of toil and hope and thought
Wherein man laboured upward and still wrought
New worlds and better, Thou hast made as naught.
We built us joyful cities, strong and fair,
Knowledge we sought and gathered wisdom rare.
And all this time you laughed upon our care,
And suddenly the earth grew black with wrong,
Our hope was crushed and silenced was our song,
The heaven grew loud with weeping. Thou art strong.
Come then and curse the Lord. Over the earth
Gross darkness falls, and evil was our birth
And our few happy days of little worth.
Even if it be not all a dream in vain
—The ancient hope that still will rise again—
Of a just God that cares for earthly pain,
Yet far away beyond our labouring night,
He wanders in the depths of endless light,
Singing alone his musics of delight;
Only the far, spent echo of his song
Our dungeons and deep cells can smite along,
And Thou art nearer. Thou art very strong.
O universal strength, I know it well,
It is but froth of folly to rebel;
For thou art Lord and hast the keys of Hell.
Yet I will not bow down to thee nor love thee,
For looking in my own heart I can prove thee,
And know this frail, bruised being is above thee.
Our love, our hope, our thirsting for the right,
Our mercy and long seeking of the light,
Shall we change these for thy relentless might?
Laugh then and slay. Shatter all things of worth,
Heap torment still on torment for thy mirth—
Thou art not Lord while there are Men on earth.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hymn
In The Time Of War And Tumults
O Lord Almighty, Thou whose hands
Despair and victory give;
In whom, though tyrants tread their lands,
The souls of nations live;
Thou wilt not turn Thy face away
From those who work Thy will,
But send Thy peace on hearts that pray,
And guard Thy people still.
Remember not the days of shame,
The hands with rapine dyed,
The wavering will, the baser aim,
The brute material pride:
Remember, Lord, the years of faith,
The spirits humbly brave,
The strength that died defying death,
The love that loved the slave:
The race that strove to rule Thine earth
With equal laws unbought: .
Who bore for Truth the pangs of birth,
And brake the bonds of Thought.
Remember how, since time began,
Thy dark eternal mind
Through lives of men that fear not man
ls light for all mankind.
Thou wilt not turn Thy face away
From those who work Thy will,
But send Thy strength on hearts that pray
For strength to serve Thee still.
poem by Sir Henry Newbolt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jesus, Thou Divine Companion
Jesus, Thou divine Companion,
By Thy lowly human birth
Thou hast come to join the workers,
Burden bearers of the earth.
Thou, the Carpenter of Nazareth,
Toiling for Thy daily food,
By Thy patience and Thy courage,
Thou hast taught us toil is good.
They who tread the path of labor
Follow where Thy feet have trod;
They who work without complaining
Do the holy will of God.
Thou, the Peace that passeth knowledge,
Dwellest in the daily strife;
Thou, the Bread of heaven, broken
In the sacrament of life.
Every task, however simple,
Sets the soul that does it free;
Every deed of love and kindness
Done to man is done to Thee.
Jesus, Thou divine Companion,
Help us all to do our best;
Bless in our daily labor,
Lead us to the Sabbath rest.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Home
There is a land, of every land the pride,
Beloved by heaven, o'er all the world beside;
Where brighter suns dispense serener light,
And milder moons emparadise the night;
A land of beauty, virtue, valour, truth,
Time-tutor'd age, and love-exalted youth;
The wand'ring mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,
Views not a realm so bountiful and fair,
Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air.
In ev'ry clime the magnet of his soul,
Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole;
For in this land of heaven's peculiar grace,
The heritage of nature's noblest race,
There is a spot of earth, supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest,
Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside
His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride,
While in his soften'd looks benignly blend
The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend:
Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife,
Strews with fresh flowers the narrow path of life;
In the clear heaven of her delightful eye
An angel-guard of loves and graces lie;
Around her knees domestic duties meet,
And fire-side pleasures gambol at her feet.
Where shall that land, that spot of earth, be found?
Art thou a man? a patriot? look around;
Oh, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land thy country, and that spot thy home.
poem by James Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Prospero: What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?
If thou rememberest aught ere thou camest here,
How thou camest here thou mayst.
line from The Tempest, Act I, Scene 2 by William Shakespeare (1611)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy!