Had You Wept
Had you wept; had you but neared me with a frail uncertain ray,
Dewy as the face of the dawn, in your large and luminous eye,
Then would have come back all the joys the tidings had slain that day,
And a new beginning, a fresh fair heaven, have smoothed the things awry.
But you were less feebly human, and no passionate need for clinging
Possessed your soul to overthrow reserve when I came near;
Ay, though you suffer as much as I from storms the hours are bringing
Upon your heart and mine, I never see you shed a tear.
The deep strong woman is weakest, the weak one is the strong;
The weapon of all weapons best for winning, you have not used;
Have you never been able, or would you not, through the evil times and long?
Has not the gift been given you, or such gift have you refused?
When I bade me not absolve you on that evening or the morrow,
Why did you not make war on me with those who weep like rain?
You felt too much, so gained no balm for all your torrid sorrow,
And hence our deep division, and our dark undying pain.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Related quotes
Be Strong!
Be strong!
We are not here to play, to dream, to drift;
We have hard work to do and loads to lift;
Shun not the struggle, face it, ’tis God’s gift.
Be strong, be strong, be strong!
Be strong!
Say not the days are evil—who’s to blame?
And fold the hands and acquiesce—O shame!
Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God’s Name.
Be strong, be strong, be strong!
Be strong!
It matters not how deep entrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day, how long;
Faint not, fight on! Tomorrow comes the song.
Be strong, be strong, be strong!
poem by Maltbie Davenport Babcock
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Forever Mine
The room is dark, all alone am I.
Sitting here thinking of times gone by.
Remembering the past, the way things were.
A different time, when so much was unsure.
During these times, you came to my life.
Bringing happiness and laughter and love into sight.
Never such a feeling had I felt before.
Every moment spent with you, just left me wanting more.
More glances and stares, from your eyes so bright.
Eyes that see deep in my soul, making everything alright.
Wanting more kisses, from your soft lips so sweet.
Lips that make my legs weak and my heart skip a beat.
Wanting more time spent in your loving embrace.
Arms so strong and gentle, such a safe, loving place.
Wanting your warm touch, as you caress all of me.
Such a sensual feeling, setting my body so free.
Here we are, so many years more.
Not much has changed, I just want you even more.
Not a day goes by that I don't give thanks for you.
Every morning I think that our love is like new.
A new beginning. A fresh new start.
A new day to tell you what's deep in my heart.
You've made me feel loved, wanted and adored.
No one could possibly ever love me more.
And now here we are, loving each other from a far.
Waiting for the day, to awake in your arms.
To look upon your face, and deep in your eyes.
Knowing we'll never have to say our good byes.
Until that day comes just know this is true,
Everything I have to give, I have given to you.
I give you my heart, soul, body and mind.
And dream of the day you'll forever be mine.
poem by Shauna Smith
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The Gift of Rain
The rain is a gift of jewellery as a special gift,
One might be strong in diamonds,
One may strike the eyes of jewels that are too rich,
But one may never call the rain too precious
For the strength of the torrents are harder than diamonds
To feed the little men and women with jewels.
The wind is arousing the rain, negating the pain
Of a blessed year, feeling like living with us.
The rain has so much cleverness that it is believing in anything
Finding any crevice of faith, as one would his own bible.
The rain is a gift I seek, for the furthering of my very soul,
For the upliftment of the strong heart that is within me.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Day's Plans Go Awry
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The tears that God must cry.
'Hey Mom, what's rain, what makes it fall? '
Asked Zachary, sincere.
'When will it stop, will it at all?
I can't be stuck in here.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
As God begins to cry.
'It's God's tears, my son, he must weep,
For all of us on earth.
The pain we feel, we cannot keep,
Ourselves alone from birth.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
For our pain God must cry.
'But Mom, God's cried, every day,
He must be getting weak.
Tell him to laugh, that's what I'd say,
And try that for a week.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
Why do we make him cry?
'But ah, my son, you do not know,
How much hurt God has felt.
So our Father, he has to show,
Us what our pain has dealt.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry.
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
God doesn't want to cry.
'So Mom, then why, do we hurt God?
How can we be so bad?
Why do we hurt each other too?
We know it makes him sad.'
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The day's plans go awry,
It's wet out there, the rain rolls in,
The tears that God must cry.
poem by Steven Rodgers
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It is a commonplace that the history of civilisation is largely the history of weapons. In particular, the connection between the discovery of gunpowder and the overthrow of feudalism by the bourgeoisie has been pointed out over and over again. And though I have no doubt exceptions can be brought forward, I think the following rule would be found to be generally true that ages in which the dominant weapon is expensive or difficult to make will be ages of despotism, whereas when the dominant weapon is cheap and simple, the common people have a chance. Thus, for example, tanks, battleships and bombing planes are inherently tyrannical weapons, while rifles, muskets, long-bows and hand-grenades are inherently democratic weapons. A complex weapon makes the strong stronger, while a simple weapon --so long as there is no answer to it-- gives claws to the weak.
quote by George Orwell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weak may emerge
Weaker may emerge as strongest one
If support is received from everyone
Time and tide wait for none
Momentum has to be gained and work to be done
Whole world depends on sympathy and support
It will add to sweetness if we have good rapport
What else can we do to walk for an extra mile?
Life’s mission will be realized if thought for a while
No one can perform it alone
Even strong wind and rain has to accompany cyclone
It will have desirous or colossal effect of nature
In both the cases gloom is descending on future
It is natural cycle that prevents the weak
Strongest survive and weakest get stick
What else can be offered by him as defensive weapon?
When everything is at odd all and nothing clicks on
It is powerful game where weakest some times survive
They have nothing to loose so they slowly revive
Gather enough strength and build the hut with straw
Who else can win in the game of draw?
It is not weak but wicked suffers most
It will be near death blow with high cost
Why to feel sorry for strong or weak?
When chances are open to reach on the peak?
Do the weak all the time need sympathy?
Have they to sing constantly for their apathy?
Will they not rise for their legitimate rights/
Do they suffer without offering any fight?
Power grows from the barrel of the gun
Atrocities increase if you keep mum
Weaker may be suppressed for all the times to come
How can they be aroused to fight it out and welcome?
It is the fight between systems and follows up
It is sheer madness to be followed by cover up
Poor is always hit below the belt and made sufferer
In times to come he only will be torch bearer
Let the weak be given enough chance to excel
Why doubts should arise in mind and be not repealed?
Both will have to fight it out and lead the way
All uncertain clouds must be driven away
It is out of question who should stay and where?
They have to live amicably and stay there
No one can uproot them from stated position
It is fine and best available composition
There is nothing like term weak or strong
All are equal and must stay among
At any given time it may go wrong
Path must be cared out even if it is long
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Dost Thou Not Care?
I love and love not: Lord, it breaks my heart
To love and not to love.
Thou veiled within Thy glory, gone apart
Into Thy shrine, which is above,
Dost Thou not love me, Lord, or care
For this mine ill?—
I love thee here or there,
I will accept thy broken heart, lie still.
Lord, it was well with me in time gone by
That cometh not again,
When I was fresh and cheerful, who but I?
I fresh, I cheerful: worn with pain
Now, out of sight and out of heart;
O Lord, how long?—
I watch thee as thou art,
I will accept thy fainting heart, be strong.
'Lie still,' 'be strong,' to-day; but, Lord, to-morrow,
What of to-morrow, Lord?
Shall there be rest from toil, be truce from sorrow,
Be living green upon the sward
Now but a barren grave to me,
Be joy for sorrow?—
Did I not die for thee?
Did I not live for thee? Leave Me to-morrow.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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The Empty Box
This I will not put into my normal rhyme and verse, for it is a story of
Faith and hope.
The empty box
I felt empty inside, as the greatest gift had been taken away.
Like an empty Christmas box with all the ribbons and bows
On the outside showing all its beauties, but no one
Knew that the box was empty inside.
What happened? Who took out that gift?
Was it supposed to be temporary
For it was something that I truly missed.
What is the purpose of a beautiful decorated box
If there is nothing inside, to show the depth
and meaning of its wrappings.
Had I taken out the gift? Or misplaced or given it away?
I did not know!
An empty box is like a universe without its stars
Or sun or moon. Void and dark.
I felt like a floating object in space with no
Beginning and no end.
I still had my mind active and working.
I decided to back track to the times before this
And what could have happened.
I had an untimely death of a family member
Then I was laid off from work.
I didn’t have enough money to make
My car or mortgage payments, and to top it off
I wound up with a severe cold.
That was when I turned angrily and blamed god
For all my misfortunes.
But by doing this - I became empty inside
With no emotions, I then realized that this
Is one of many misfortunes to come to test my faith.
I knelt down on my knees and prayed for forgiveness
For allowing myself to weaken.
I then recalled the poem - “ footprints in the sand”
And I felt my heart start to fill up again.
For I knew that in my weakest hours
God would carry me.
Now! That Christmas gift was replenished
And filled the emptiness with the most beautiful gift
This world could ever know.
FAITH, HOPE, AND LOVE.
I knew things would work out for me
If I just gave god my problems to take care of.
So if you see an empty gift box!
It is not really empty, for it contains
GODS LOVE FOR ALL HIS CHILDREN.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Pouring Rain
I was sitting near the window
watching for the pouring rain
While I'm in sorrow
and my heart is in pain
Though I know you've never been mine
but for me it's fine
as long as i see you happy
even though you're not with me
Because it would be harder if you stay
and sooner you'll just go away
so better leave earlier
for me to easily recover
I'll just set aside
what I felt deep inside
and just cry with the rain
until all my tears will drain
But every time there is a rain
I felt lonely again
How I wish the rain may end
nad may never come back again
poem by hikarU sHenitsUa
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Battle Song
There's havoc on the staircase where the guests come streaming,
Shirt-fronts shining and tiaras gleaming,
Frail folk shuddering and stout folk steaming --
Steaming in the heat of the fray.
Midnight striking and the strife appalling,
Strong men staggering and weak men falling,
And deep in the heart of me a still voice calling:
'Make for the buffet while you may.
'Make for the buffet while you may, poor stranger,
Make for the buffet while you can;
There's hope for the stale there, strength for the frail there,
Drink for the thirsty man.
Thrust through the throng! Be obstreperous and strong!
Fight till your strength is sped.
Fight and prevail; do not falter, do not fail,
Make for the buffet and be fed!
'Make for the buffet and be fed, poor stranger,
Make for the buffet and be strong;
Dense is the press and the air is growing less,
Fierce is the fight and long.
Fierce is the fight and oppressive is the night,
Stern is the strife and fell;
Pale is your cheek; you are wan and you are weak;
Make for the buffet and be well!'
Painfully and wearily the hours are dragging,
Old men are falling now and young men flagging;
White ties weakening and stiff shirts sagging --
Sagging as the hours go by.
Consciousness is failing me and outlines merging,
Thunder in my ears as of sea-foam surging,
And deep in the heart of me a faint voice urging:
'Make for the buffet lest you die.
'Make for the buffet lest you die, poor stranger;
Make for the buffet while you can;
Fight your way through like a woman in a queue,
Fight like a jungle-man!
Batter the élite with your hands and your feet,
Butt them in the backs with your head:
Strike for your own! You are hungry and alone;
Make for the buffet and be fed.
'Make for the buffet and be fed, poor stranger,
Make for the buffet lest you die.
There's hope for stale there, strength for the frail there,
Drink for the throat that's dry.
Courage and strength will rewarded be at length;
Weight in the end will tell.
Up, then, and on! Are you weary? Are you wan?
Make for the buffet and be well,
Poor stranger!
Make for the buffet and be well,
Poor ranger!
Make for the buffet and be well!'
poem by Patrick Barrington
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Strong Strong Wind
We walked away before
There were too many storms
We could not get throught
But I still kept loving you
Now fate brought you back to me
This time I won't let you leave
I'm holding on to you, forever,
I'm never letting go
The time I spent away from you
was time that made me see
I need to live this life with you
I need you here with me
Now it would take a strong, strong wind
To take me from your arms again
To take me from your side
It would take a strong, strong wind
To pull away this heart of mine
To make us break apart this time
It would take a strong, strong wind
Hearts sometimes lose their way
But they find their way back someday
To the arms they need
And I need you like the air I breathe
The time I spent away from you was time
lost in the rain
I'm meant to live this life with you
That's something nothing can change
And it would take a strong, strong wind
To take me from your arms again
To take me from your side
It would take a strong, strong wind
To pull away this heart of mine
To make us break apart this time
It would take a strong, strong wind
This time I'm holding on with everything
This time I won't let go for anything
It would take a strong, strong wind
To take me from your arms again
To take me from your side
It would take a strong, strong wind
To pull away this heart of mine
To make us break apart this time
It would take a strong, strong wind
Strong, strong wind
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Love
Young love, that lays at your feet
is flamboyant yet is not complete.
For it has not felt the pain
of love itself when the rain
washes over the rush of primeval calls
that leave you with ups and then the pitfalls.
Little does it know of long endured years.
Little does it know of deep felt tears
that tear at the heart of every lover
that comes to them and seems to cover
all aspects of what older love's about.
Young love is born and has no doubt.
Young love's a beginning that shows its face.
Its innocence is a feeling of grace.
For it only knows the instant glow
that accompanies the attraction and the flow
as it creates a beating in the heart
that to young lovers will never depart.
But young love can never stay young you know.
It will either die or it will grow
into a comfortable and wondrous gift
giving the two a constant lift
to soothe out the lows and create the highs
that brings back young love that never dies.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Who Let In The Rain
Things like this
can always take a little time
I always thought
we'd be together down the line
we start to fight
and can't get over what was said
'cause you see black and white
and I see red
And I wonder who let in the rain
you know without you
I'm not the same
when love gets strong
people get weak
sometimes they lose control
and wind up in too deep
they fall like rain
who let in the rain
I make the bed and cover
where you used to sleep
I'm smoothing over promises
made in these sheets
I envy lovers passing by
out on the street
'cause what they have
I couldn't keep
And I wonder who let in the rain
you know without you
I'm not the same
when love gets strong
people get weak
sometimes they lose control
and wind up in too deep
they fall like rain
who let in the rain.
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper from Hat Full Of Stars
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baby, I'm Gone!
well, i've searched the skies
and followed the wind.
there's not any place
that i havent been.
i've known hunger and sorrow,
walked poverty's streets.
with my heart in my hands,
and my faith in my feet.
i've drowned in the water,
and felt the fire's heat.
i've tasted the thunder,
and felt its dark beat.
and i'm alone,
still strong,
still waiting for the dawn...
baby, i'm gone!
i've heard the great guns,
saw the bodies of children,
seen men do things
for which they cant be forgiven.
i've heard the stories of God,
and the lies of men.
i've left a part of me
everywhere that i've been.
i've known the light inside,
and my evil twin.
gave away my soul,
and owned my sins.
and i'm alone,
still strong,
still waiting for the dawn...
baby, i'm gone!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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With The Lark
Night is for sorrow and dawn is for joy,
Chasing the troubles that fret and annoy;
Darkness for sighing and daylight for song,--
Cheery and chaste the strain, heartfelt and strong.
All the night through, though I moan in the dark,
I wake in the morning to sing with the lark.
Deep in the midnight the rain whips the leaves,
Softly and sadly the wood-spirit grieves.
But when the first hue of dawn tints the sky,
I shall shake out my wings like the birds and be dry;
And though, like the rain-drops, I grieved through the dark,
I shall wake in the morning to sing with the lark.
On the high hills of heaven, some morning to be,
Where the rain shall not grieve thro' the leaves of the tree,
There my heart will be glad for the pain I have known,
For my hand will be clasped in the hand of mine own;
And though life has been hard and death's pathway been dark,
I shall wake in the morning to sing with the lark.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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November Rain
November rain washed away my guilt
November rain washed away my pain
November rain - so tired I felt
November rain was not just any rain
Long I longed with deep torment
For so long my body waited
November rain, , , , Oh, sweet friend
November rain- slowly I faded.
November rain- I cried within
Steady and slowly, it kept on pouring
November rain, watered my skin
And deep inside, I heard my roaring.
November rain, it refused to quit
November rain kept on pouring
And alone outside, in the streets I wept-
dripping... dripping and falling.
poem by Amy Phillip
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Strong, Strong Wind
We were too hateful
There were too many storms
We could not get through
But I still kept loving you
Fate brought you back to me
This time i won't let you leave
I'm holding on to you Forever
I'm never letting go
The time I spent away from you
Was time that made me see
I need to live my life with you
I need you here with me
And It would take a strong, strong wind
To take me from your arms again
To take me from your side
And It would take a strong, strong wind
To pull away this heart of mine
Make us break apart this time
And It would take a strong, strong wind
Hearts sometimes lose their way
But they find their way back someday
To the arms they need
And I need you like the air I breathe
The time I spent away from you
Was time lost in the rain
I meant to live my life with you
That's something nothing can change
And It would take a strong, strong wind
To take me from your arms again
To take me from your side
And It would take a strong, strong wind
To pull away this heart of mine
Make us break apart this time
And It would take a strong, strong wind
This time I'm holding on with everything
This time I won't let go for anything
And It would take a strong, strong wind
To take me from your arms again
To take me from your side
And It would take a strong, strong wind
To pull away this heart of mine
Make us break apart this time
And It would take a strong, strong wind
song performed by by Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deep Down Inside
Deep down inside hidden within
hides the pain of my soul, dark memories from back then
so fresh in my heart they seem never to leave me alone
and just when i think happiness is mine, pain reminds me its not gone
in the windows of my soul, pain sits near
leaking out every now and then in the form of a innocent tear
the pain behind the tear is far greater than the little water that slides down my face
its the origin that holds the pain, reality that fills the space
for my tears never reveal the pain in my cry
and happiness is all thats seen to the naked eye
never letting anyone truly understand the reason behind tears rain
for they always hear the story, not once seeing the pain
as if it could be understood, the reason for hearts cry
for my mind has already concluded reality as being the reason why
in all my pain and struggles ive never been able to stop time
ive only allowed pain to pile giving it permission to forever be mine
but the windows of my pain tell a truth, that even i sometimes cant see
all the pain and struggles that ive swallowed through the years has made a warrior out of me
for i am a ball of strength, only revealing a smile
and wisdom has led me to believe throughout the years its strength and not pain that has continued to pile
sometimes my wisdom and heart just dont agree
my soul has to be reminded that this is my reality
that all this pain was built from way back then
and behind hearts door, and souls window my true pain hides within
poem by Wanda Askew Scott
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The Elopement
'A woman never agreed to it!' said my knowing friend to me.
'That one thing she'd refuse to do for Solomon's mines in fee:
No woman ever will make herself look older than she is.'
I did not answer; but I thought, 'You err there, ancient Quiz.'
It took a rare one, true, to do it; for she was surely rare -
As rare a soul at that sweet time of her life as she was fair.
And urging motives, too, were strong, for ours was a passionate case,
Yea, passionate enough to lead to freaking with that young face.
I have told no one about it, should perhaps make few believe,
But I think it over now that life looms dull and years bereave,
How blank we stood at our bright wits' end, two frail barks in distress,
How self-regard in her was slain by her large tenderness.
I said: 'The only chance for us in a crisis of this kind
Is going it thorough!' - 'Yes,' she calmly breathed. 'Well, I don't mind.'
And we blanched her dark locks ruthlessly: set wrinkles on her brow;
Ay - she was a right rare woman then, whatever she may be now.
That night we heard a coach drive up, and questions asked below.
'A gent with an elderly wife, sir,' was returned from the bureau.
And the wheels went rattling on, and free at last from public ken
We washed all off in her chamber and restored her youth again.
How many years ago it was! Some fifty can it be
Since that adventure held us, and she played old wife to me?
But in time convention won her, as it wins all women at last,
And now she is rich and respectable, and time has buried the past.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Dancing Classroom
Crying
Not crying
Do you think my heart is made from iron?
Do you think man looks strong outside
Will always be strong?
Can’t be hurt?
But truth, I’m not more than ashamed coward
Whoever…understand
I want crying too
Even strong
But please understand, that I’m a woman
Sometimes I want to weep
Be cared and respected
Whoever…understand me
I’m not strong as you see
Want to be understood
But when it happened, I can’t bear it
Don’t want seen weak
There is no super power human
Or very weak person
But many people don’t realize
And labeling as they like
There is no unharmed human
But for they have a hope
And stand against wind of life
There is no other way than fighting
Even life is hard
Even it’s painful
Even those people don’t understand
Let’s we face it!
And cross!
from odoru no kyoshitsu
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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