Under The Cedarcroft Chestnut
Trim set in ancient sward, his manful bole
Upbore his frontage largely toward the sky.
We could not dream but that he had a soul:
What virtue breathed from out his bravery!
We gazed o'erhead: far down our deepening eyes
Rained glamours from his green midsummer mass.
The worth and sum of all his centuries
Suffused his mighty shadow on the grass.
A Presence large, a grave and steadfast Form
Amid the leaves' light play and fantasy,
A calmness conquered out of many a storm,
A Manhood mastered by a chestnut-tree!
Then, while his monarch fingers downward held
The rugged burrs wherewith his state was rife,
A voice of large authoritative Eld
Seemed uttering quickly parables of life:
`How Life in truth was sharply set with ills;
A kernel cased in quarrels; yea, a sphere
Of stings, and hedge-hog-round of mortal quills:
How most men itched to eat too soon i' the year,
`And took but wounds and worries for their pains,
Whereas the wise withheld their patient hands,
Nor plucked green pleasures till the sun and rains
And seasonable ripenings burst all bands
`And opened wide the liberal burrs of life.'
There, O my Friend, beneath the chestnut bough,
Gazing on thee immerged in modern strife,
I framed a prayer of fervency -- that thou,
In soul and stature larger than thy kind,
Still more to this strong Form might'st liken thee,
Till thy whole Self in every fibre find
The tranquil lordship of thy chestnut tree.
poem by Sidney Lanier
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Related quotes
Greatness, in the last analysis, is largely bravery - courage in escaping from old ideas and old standards and respectable ways of doing things.
quote by James Robinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peaceful Warrior
His bravery is marked on the tablets in spiritual heaven,
Same ways are propounded so moderately.
The three ways are set to prosper:
Bravery, courage and valour.
This will be physically greater than the angels
That swerve their flight in divine fashion.
I own this kingdom with angels
Like a warrior superior to their rank and file.
My bravery is like his, the bravery is like his,
We are in luck so well, with this bravery.
Our souls stain the skies with blood,
And this is a red substance like the sunset,
Like the sunrise when luck is at your window.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Aplolgia Pro Vita Sua
The poet in his lone yet genial hour
Gives to his eyes a magnifying power :
Or rather he emancipates his eyes
From the black shapeless accidents of size--
In unctuous cones of kindling coal,
Or smoke upwreathing from the pipe's trim bole,
His gifted ken can see
Phantoms of sublimity.
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Bravery defined
What is bravery?
To hunt a tiger,
To win a battle,
To kill an enemy
Or to face a danger?
The bravery is
To confess the truth,
To repent for the sin,
To accept the ignorance
And to reap punishment.
The bravery is
To win within
And not to win without.
03.07.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Brave Sword
By bravery we subdue the brilliance
Of an enemy with a sling;
O the enchantment that bravery brings,
Promises are made on the mast.
Concerns creep to wander with lust,
Bravery derides the normal quest.
That it is from the strength of the heart.
The strong heart must be brave and gallant,
Like Fancy itself, the real pleasures that await.
Love and bravery are doubled when struck
By the sword, steel in its grip and material.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Song.—If those dark eyes
If those dark eyes have gazed on me,
Unconscious of their power—
The glance in secret ecstasy
I've treasured many an hour.
If that soft voice, a single word
Has breathed for me to hear,
Like Heaven's entrancing airs, the chord
Resounded on my ear.
And yet, alas! too well I knew
That love—or hope—was vain,
The fountain whence delight I drew
Would end in yielding pain!
My folly and my peace at once
A moment could destroy;
It bade me every wish renounce,
And broke my dream of joy
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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My One Last Dream
One last dream of rejecting your protective arms...
One last dream of harm...
One last dream of never changing...
One last dream of never being held...
One last dream of no objection...
One last dream of a scarful you...
One last dream of no summer dew...
One last dream self injury...
One last dream of our own little theory...
One last dream of being six feet under soil...
One last dream of a lost soul...
One last dream of pulling a trigger...
One last dream of having a power that’s bigger...
One last dream of never needing help...
poem by Crystal Fuller
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Cradle Song
FROM groves of spice,
O'er fields of rice,
Athwart the lotus-stream,
I bring for you,
Aglint with dew
A little lovely dream.
Sweet, shut your eyes,
The wild fire-fiies
Dance through the fairy neem;
From the poppy-bole
For you I stole
A little lovely dream.
Dear eyes, good-night,
In golden light
The stars around you gleam;
On you I press
With soft caress
A little lovely dream.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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I Dream of
I Dream of...!
I dream of... A life without pain...
I dream of... Love that I can't explain...
I dream of... Eyes not plagued by tears...
I dream of... A soul without fears...
I dream of... A pure, unbroken heart...
I dream of... A hope of never growing apart...
I dream of... The smile on your face...
I dream of... A better place...
I dream of... The things I could never do...
I dream of... A dream of you...
poem by Sachin Don
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I don't think that bravery is about skin. Bravery is about a willingness to show emotional need.
quote by Richard Gere
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Soul Within A Dream (Dream Within a Soul)
Near the sea,
I filled the earth with fan leaf tree
To give chirping robins a clasp, and hide
Late the day, one enjoys the ebbs of tide
Someday, one could tell what nature be
a dream that stays with me
All worries, pressure of the day subside
The future of the unborn child
Under which a soul could rest
From crux, a tortured crest
This place hath done whats fair
Epitaph of my sweet ember's care
Dream is noble for the soul
Whose soul dream not
Faint -hearted dream it is without soul
and soul it is that dream, if by dream is soul we ennoble
I dream and filled the earth today
Hoped that dream would always stay
The time will I expire and rest on the ground
My dream will grow, stand, and live this land
poem by Kristoffer Randolf Ramos
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Physical bravery is an animal instinct moral bravery is much higher and truer courage.
quote by Wendell Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Physical bravery is an animal instinct; moral bravery is much higher and truer courage.
quote by Wendell Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Last Dream Of....
one last dream of being on this universe,
one last dream of being under this horrible curse,
one last dream of loosing hope,
one last dream of being under the scope,
one last dream of self harm,
one last dream of hurting her arm,
one last dream of dying inside,
one last dream of wanting to hide,
one last dream of a hospital,
one last dream of a lost soul,
one last dream of thinking knowbody is there,
one last dream of living in fear,
one last dream of wanting to be dead,
one last dream of harmful thoughts in my head,
one last dream of giving up on myself,
one last dream of not wanting help..
poem by Corina Rose Guard
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Old Town Types No. 4 - Our Mr. Trim
Mr Trim, commercial traveller, is in town again,
'Our Mr Trim,' you know, debonair and neat;
Landed here this morning on the ten-thirty train;
Can't you hear him laughing there, half down the street?
A bland man, a breezy man, a man to take the eye;
With his trolly load of sample tins, his big leather bags.
Men say he's popular; ladies say, 'Oo, my!'
John George Augustus Trim, traveller in bags.
Mr Trim, the traveller, oh, very well-dressed,
Very much the lah-de-dah; handsome, too, at that;
Flowing, braided frock-coat (material the best)
Pantaloons of shepherd's plaid, tall shiny hat;
Curly set of 'sideboards,' big silk moustache,
Diamond on finger and a rolling eye of brown.
'Oo, such a one!' the ladies say. 'Such a shameless mash,'
And hearts are all a-flutter when our Mr Trim's in town.
Mr Trim, the traveller, drinking with the boys,
'Heard the latest yarn, lads? Got it at the club.'
'He's such a card, that Mr trim! Listen to that noise!
Such a fav-rite with the fellers,' says the lady at the pub.
Mr Trim, with customers, 'putting out a line,'
Feeding them with flattery, indulging every whim.
'Oh, better say two dozen. Shall I book it for you? Fine . . .'
A useful fellow,' says The Firm - 'Our Mr Trim.'
Mr Trim, the traveller, married rather well
Squatter's daughter, up the north - heaps and heaps of cash.
Put it in a wholesale house, so the gossips tell;
Stuck it for a dozen years, and then went smash.
Mr Trim is knocking round somewhere still they say,
Frock coat and shepherd's plaids drooping, like his hope;
Slightly down-at-heel and bald, cuffs inclined to fray
John George Augustus Trim, traveller in soap.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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A Poem That Painted the Sky
Under a sky
That never touched
The earth
In that virtual space
Where none others
Ever breathed
There I hear
The unique raaga
My breath sings
Between the breaths
Lurks an exclusive dream
That I dream of you, for you
This evening
The dream morphed
Into a bird
The colorful wings
Took to flight
To paint the sky
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Humility is the foundation of all the other virtues hence, in the soul in which this virtue does not exist there cannot be any other virtue except in mere appearance.
quote by Saint Augustine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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House
I
Shall I sonnet-sing you about myself?
Do I live in a house you would like to see?
Is it scant of gear, has it store of pelf?
"Unlock my heart with a sonnet-key?"
II
Invite the world, as my betters have done?
"Take notice: this building remains on view,
Its suites of reception every one,
Its private apartment and bedroom too;
III
"For a ticket, apply to the Publisher."
No: thanking the public I must decline.
A peep through my window, if folk prefer;
But, please you, no foot over threshold of mine!
IV
I have mixed with a crowd and heard free talk
In a foreign land where an earthquake chanced;
And a house stood gaping, nought to balk
Man's eye wherever he gazed or glanced.
V
The whole of the frontage shaven sheer,
The inside gaped: exposed to day,
Right and wrong and common and queer,
Bare, as the palm of your hand, it lay.
VI
The owner? Oh, he had been crushed, no doubt!
"Odd tables and chairs for a man of wealth!
What a parcel of musty old books about!
He smoked,—no wonder he lost his health!
VII
"I doubt he bathed before he dressed.
A brasier?—the pagan, he burned perfumes!
You see it is proved, what the neighbours guessed:
His wife and himself had separate rooms."
VIII
Friends, the goodman of the house at least
Kept house to himself till an earthquake came:
'Tis the fall of its frontage permits you feast
On the inside arrangement you praise or blame.
IX
Outside should suffice for evidence:
And whoso desires to penetrate
Deeper, must dive by the spirit sense—
No optics like yours, at any rate!
X
"Hoity toity! A street to explore,
Your house the exception! 'With this same key
Shakespeare unlocked his heart,' once more!"
Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare he!
poem by Robert Browning from Pacchiarotto (1876)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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