On The Trust
Think England what it is to shake,
& better use your King,
His power raisd the frozen snake,
& Must he when he hears it speak,
find how the tongue can sting?
Trustees you make in long debates,
Which he is forcd to give;
While by your trust the rebell getts,
The subject looses bought estates,
& the oppressors live.
Pitty us heaven, & lend your aid,
Anothers intrest sett us free,
& now it gives us slavery,
Thus weakness is a property,
& Greatness still obeyd.
The men whose heavy arms we feel
By Politicks are good or ill,
Deceiving, or deceivd;
Their law is founded on their will,
& our's by that inslavd.
Against their princes acts they rise,
& in their princes name;
The sly intreaguing factions choice,
& erring patriots shame.
So Dunghill foggs by fiery rays
To saucy empire scale,
Obscure the royall planetts face,
With pride supply a lofty place,
& with out pitty fall.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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A La Bourbon. Done Moy Plus De Pitie Ou Plus De Creaulte, Car Sans Ci Ie Ne Puis Pas Viure, Ne Morir
I.
Divine Destroyer, pitty me no more,
Or else more pitty me;
Give me more love, ah, quickly give me more,
Or else more cruelty!
For left thus as I am,
My heart is ice and flame;
And languishing thus, I
Can neither live nor dye!
II.
Your glories are eclipst, and hidden in the grave
Of this indifferency;
And, Caelia, you can neither altars have,
Nor I, a Diety:
They are aspects divine,
That still or smile, or shine,
Or, like th' offended sky,
Frowne death immediately.
poem by Richard Lovelace
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Spirit Of Freemen, Wake
Spirit of Freemen, wake;
No truce with Slavery make,
Thy deadly foe;
In fair disguises dressed,
Too long hast thou caress’d
The serpent in thy breast,
Now lay him low.
Must e’en the press be dumb?
Must truth itself succumb?
And thoughts be mute?
Shall law be set aside,
The right of prayer denied,
Nature and God decried,
And man called brute?
What lover of her fame
Feels not his country’s shame,
In this dark hour?
Where are the patriots now,
Of honest heart and brow,
Who scorn the neck to bow
To Slavery’s Power?
Sons of the Free! we call
On you, in field and hall,
To rise as one;
Your heaven-born rights maintain,
Nor let Oppression’s chain
On human limbs remain ; ——
Speak! and ‘t is done.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Princes Familiar
Please be philosophical
Please be tapped into your femininity
Please be able to take the wheel from me
Please be crazy and curious
Papa love your princess so that she will find loving princes familiar
Papa cry for your princess so that she will find gentle princes familiar
Please be a sexaholic
Please be unpredictably miserable
Please be self absorbed much (not the good kind)
Please be addicted to some substance
Papa listen to your princess so that she will find attentive princes familiar
Papa hear your princess so that she will find curious princes familiar
Please be the jerk of my knee Ive fit you always
You finish my sentences I think I love you
What is your name again no matter Im guessing your thoughts again correctly and I love the way
You press my buttons so much sometimes I could strangle you
Papa laugh with your princess so that she will find funny princes familiar
Papa respect your princess so that she will find respectful princes familiar
Please be strangely enigmatic
Please be just like my
song performed by by Alanis Morissette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stop Right There
Stop Right There"
You have never changed your ways
You think that you can own me like a slave
And I want to walk away
But every time I try youre in my face
You say, I could have it all
Trust you; you will never let me fall
And my heart feels bound to your control
But my spirit says, no, no, no!
Stop right there!
Suddenly temptations flying
Everywhere
And you think youve got me down
Well, think again, Im not your friend
Its plain to see, Im not your property
(Dont play with me; Im not your property)
Ring! Its you once again
Begging me to listen to your plan
But you see Ive found the truth
Cause I have been redeemed and se were through
You say, I could have it all
Trust you; you will never let me fall
I dont have to give into you demands
The powers not in your hands
I dont have to do anything you want me to
I dont need you to make me feel like I want more
Cause God has shown His love is your weakness
He is above and beyond all you can do
song performed by by ZoeGirl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Princes Of The Universe
Words and music by freddie mercury
Here we are.born to be kings.
Were the princes of the universe.
Here we belong.fighting to survive.
In a world with the darkest powers.
And here we are.were the princes of the universe.
Here we belong.fighting for survival.
Weve come to be the rulers of your world.
I am immortal.i have inside me blood of kings.
I have no rival.no man can be my equal.
Take me to the future of your world.
Born to be kings.princes of the universe.
Fighting and free.got your world in my hand.
Im here for your love and Ill make my stand.
We were born to be princes of the universe.
No man could understand.my power is in my own hand.
Ooh.ooh.ooh.ooh.people talk about you.
People say youve had your day.
Im a man that will go far.
Fly the moon and reach for the stars.
With my sword and head held high.
Got to pass the test first time - yeah.
I know that people talk about me I hear it every day.
But I can prove you wrong cos Im right first time.
Yeah.yeah.alright.watch this man fly.
Bring on the girls.
Here we are.born to be kings.were the princes of
The universe.here we belong.born to be kings.
Princes of the universe.fighting and free.
Got the world in my hands.Im here for your love.
And Ill make my stand.
We were born to be princes of the universe.
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Sr Charles Porter The Chancellours Death
& tis too true alass! we find, he's gonn,
Virtue from earth a second time is flown,
She onely then with her two sisters flew,
But now since he, what ere were good withdrew;
Uncertain where to fix, in him they lost their seat,
& had But Heaven as a sure retreat.
He Held ye scales when Justice Hand did shake:
When He, youd think that wisdomes self did speak.
He was with Honour blest, with Honesty, & praise,
ev'n Blest with all we could desire but dayes:
& those were much too few, for he is gon
(Not for himself but for ye world) too soon.
In him we found, & with him buried lies
What ever poets gave their deity's,
Joves Brow, Minervas learning, Hermes tongue
Apollo's wisdom, yeares, & his still seeming young;
The same sweet temper he to all did shew,
& as his face his mind no wrinkle knew.
He when with foes opprest was still ye same,
Pittying forgave, & smiling overcame.
this glorious sunn, like Heavens, was o're cast
By enymies, as that By clouds opprest,
That keepes his lookes compos'd, & this his breast.
Both do in glory sett, as both in glory reign,
But this for ever, that to rise again.
Perfections here as to their centre flowd,
He was tho great, yet farr from being proud.
Was gentle, liberall, & tho modest free,
Gold has allay, nay ev'ry thing but he.
yet is he tak'n away snatcht hence by heaven
as if it seemd to envy what 't had given.
But when we've such a loss—
How can ye planetts shine ye cloudes not melt to rain
But ev'ry thing their wonted course retain.
Heav'n in our sorrow cannot have a share
We've lost a god on earth 't has got a saint a starr
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Not Ours To Give
For you, I would give the world, a phrase that many people herald,
But, earth is not ours to give, but, just a place that we mortals live.
Heaven’s not a place to assume; only in Christ can we get a room,
A room prepared by God’s Son, who created upon earth everyone.
All has been made by God alone, through the power of His Throne.
By Him all were given breath, and by His Decree, all will face death.
Some may say all on this earth, are in God’s eyes, the same worth,
Regarding Creation, this is true, but, all men need to be born anew.
Some say we are all of God’s Family, but, that is closer to fantasy,
Yes, we were all created by Him, but, then the Devil had entered in,
Deceiving the first man and wife, he brought choice into man’s life,
That choice that still remains today, whatever one may think or say.
All perfection God created in man, was tainted by Satan’s evil plan,
From God man was now separated, as sin by Satan is perpetuated,
Bringing us to the Cross of Christ, God’s only way into Eternal Life,
The way to Heaven for all of us, is when in Christ we place our trust.
Though we’re all created by God, we’re Satan’s children on this sod,
Until we’re born in the Spirit above, in the choice of Calvary’s blood.
As earth is not ours to give, without Christ, you will not eternally live,
Instead of breathing Heavenly breath, you’ll surely see eternal death.
(Copyright ©07/2008)
Poem 95
VNto his mother straight he weeping came,
and of his griefe complayned:
Who could not chose but laugh at his fond game,
though sad to see him pained.
Think now (quod she) my sonne how great the smart
of those whom thou dost wound:
Full many thou hast pricked to the hart,
that pitty neuer found:
Therefore henceforth some pitty take,
when thou doest spoyle of louers make.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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As a World Would Have It
ALCESTIS
Shall I never make him look at me again?
I look at him, I look my life at him,
I tell him all I know the way to tell,
But there he stays the same.
Shall I never make him speak one word to me?
Shall I never make him say enough to show
My heart if he be glad? Be glad? … ah! God,
Why did they bring me back?
I wonder, if I go to him again,
If I take him by those two cold hands again,
Shall I get one look of him at last, or feel
One sign—or anything?
Or will he still sit there in the same way,
Without an answer for me from his lips,
Or from his eyes,—or even with a touch
Of his hand on my hand?…
“Will you look down this once—look down at me?
Speak once—and if you never speak again,
Tell me enough—tell me enough to make
Me know that you are glad!
“You are my King, and once my King would speak:
You were Admetus once, you loved me once:
Life was a dream of heaven for us once—
And has the dream gone by?
“Do I cling to shadows when I call you Life?
Do you love me still, or are the shadows all?
Or is it I that love you in the grave,
And you that mourn for me?
“If it be that, then do not mourn for me;
Be glad that I have loved you, and be King.
But if it be not that—if it be true …
Tell me if it be true!”
Then with a choking answer the King spoke;
But never touched his hand on hers, or fixed
His eyes on hers, or on the face of her:
“Yes, it is true,” he said.
“You are alive, and you are with me now;
And you are reaching up to me that I—
That I may take you—I that am a King—
I that was once a man."
So then she knew. She might have known before;
Truly, she thought, she must have known it long
Before: she must have known it when she came
From that great sleep of hers.
She knew the truth, but not yet all of it:
He loved her, but he would not let his eyes
Prove that he loved her; and he would not hold
His wife there in his arms.
So, like a slave, she waited at his knees,
And waited. She was not unhappy now.
She quivered, but she knew that he would speak
Again—and he did speak.
And while she felt the tremor of his words,
He told her all there was for him to tell;
And then he turned his face to meet her face,
That she might look at him.
She looked; and all her trust was in that look,
And all her faith was in it, and her love;
And when his answer to that look came back,
It flashed back through his tears.
So then she put her arms around his neck,
And kissed him on his forehead and his lips;
And there she clung, fast in his arms again,
Triumphant, with closed eyes.
At last, half whispering, she spoke once more:
“Why was it that you suffered for so long?
Why could you not believe me—trust in me?
Was I so strange as that?
“We suffer when we do not understand;
And you have suffered—you that love me now—
Because you are a man.… There is one thing
No man can understand.
“I would have given everything?—gone down
To Tartarus—to silence? Was it that?
I would have died? I would have let you live?—
And was it very strange?”
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Upon The Sudden Restraint Of The Earl Of Somerset, Then Falling From Favour
Dazled thus with height of place,
Whilst our Hopes our wits Beguile,
No man marks the narrow space
'Twixt a Prison and a Smile.
Then since Fortunes favours fade,
You that in her arms do sleep,
Learn to swim and not to wade;
For the Hearts of Kings are deep.
But if Greatness be so blind,
As to trust in Towers of Air,
Let it be with Goodness lin'd,
That at least the Fall be fair.
Then though darkned you shall say,
When Friends fail and Princes frown,
Vertue is the roughest way,
But proves at night a Bed of Down.
poem by Henry Wotton
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The Poet's Empire
WHAT power can break the inner harmonies,
The rich imaginings, heard like distant sea
O'er purple meadow-lands at eve, while we
Look starwards mute? Hopes that like mountains rise
Into mid-heaven, and to entrancèd eyes
5
Horizon-glories of what is to be,—
All these and more lie round us infinitely,
Beyond all language fair in cloudless skies.
This is the poet's empire. Here may he
Reign king-like, throned in splendour and in power
10
No power can shake, so he indeed be king.
Free as the wind, untamèd as the sea,
When earth weighs heavily, most in that hour
He cleaves the heavens in scorn on eagle-wing.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Hymn 46
God's condescension to human affairs.
Up to the Lord, that reigns on high,
And views the nations from afar,
Let everlasting praises fly,
And tell how large his bounties are.
[He that can shake the worlds he made,
Or with his word, or with his rod,
His goodness, how amazing great!
And what a condescending God!]
[God, that must stoop to view the skies,
And bow to see what angels do,
Down to our earth he casts his eyes,
And bends his footsteps downwards too.]
He overrules all mortal things,
And manages our mean affairs;
On humble souls the King of kings
Bestows his counsels and his cares.
Our sorrows and our tears we pour
Into the bosom of our God;
He hears us in the mournful hour,
And helps us bear the heavy load.
In vain might lofty princes try
Such condescension to perform;
For worms were never raised so high
Above their meanest fellow worm.
O could our thankful hearts devise
A tribute equal to thy grace,
To the third heav'n our songs should rise,
And teach the golden harps thy praise.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 118
O give thanks to the Lord for He is good
And His mercy shall never end
When I cried to the Lord in my distress
I discovered a King and a friend
Forever and ever I will trust in the Lord
And hide beneath the shadow of His wings
It's better to trust in the Lord your God
Than to trust in princes and kings
Open a door that no man can shut
And with praise I will enter in
Open your heart O Father above
And invite me deep within
You were discarded and rejected by man
And you died on a tree all alone
They had no idea they rejected the Lord
And you became the chief cornerstone
Now the sun it shines on a brand new day
And for this we will always rejoice
We will sing of the glories of our risen King
We will make a joyful noise
poem by Frank McEleny
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Make Me
Tell me why after all this time is the light hiding in your eyes
Do I see promises never made or is it just a sweet surprise
(chorus)
Make me high ~ make me low
Make it stop or come on let the damn thing go
I am hanging on your heart
Make me love or fall apart
Come on make me
Talk to me tell me now tell me true
Tell me what you wanna do
Are we gonna go on one by one or do we go two by two
(chorus)
I need a place to lay my head
And take your wine onto my tongue
Pick me up and shake me shake me down
I need your heart to hear my song
Hold me now ~ see by me
Or let me go ~ open up your hand and set me free
Like a dandelion ~ like a hitcher on the wind
Set me free again set me free again
Set me free free free again
(chorus)
Make me fly ~ make me fall
Make me everything or make me nothing at all
I am hanging on your heart
Make me love or fall apart
Come on make me
song performed by by Heart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Anthem To Freedom
Were you there when Jesus bled
Before the cross, in sins were dead
By your hand in Christ were led
On to victory
Now's the day and now's the hour
Stand with Christ and stand in power
He's our Rock and strong High Tower
We're free from slavery
So will you come and fight the fight
March in the day and not the night
We will send them all to flight
This will be our day
Free men march and free men die
And all proclaim our God on high
His glory fills the earth and sky
Come Lord soon we pray
In glorious majesty He reigns
He's broken all our wretched chains
On Calvary He took our pains
And death has lost its sting
Now Jesus come and take your place
We lift our eyes, we see your face
Our enemies we now give chase
We serve our glorious King
No longer slaves and dead in sin
New life arises from within
We sing to you a glorious hymn
Of joy and victory
We have arisen from the dead
And follow you who died and bled
And rose victoriously and said
No more slavery
Come now my children, come and see
You once were chained but now are free
Free to live and reign with me
Its time to wield the sword
Its the final day, the final hour
Rain down thy presence, a glorious shower
Its not by might nor any power
But by My Spirit says the Lord
poem by Frank McEleny
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Handful Of Dust
Your pressed your face against my heart
I felt that you could look right through me
We live in days that have no time
We live in times that now refuse me
And somewhere out beyond his town
There lies a world that now can turn us round
And we need it and we need it
Oh got to have some thing to believe in
Ive got enough to believe in you
What can I give just to know that its true ?
But Ive gotta begin to say
Now theyve taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
I feel to thin before your eyes
I feel so naked under open skies
I once stood tall within this town
But now the time has come to bring us down.
We must have more with his power in hand
We must believe things will go as we planned
But Ive gotta begin to say
Now theyve taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust,
With a handful of dust ?
Making love through electric skies
Now I know where my fortune lies
Breathe the air and feel this land
cause its slipping through me
Like dust from my hand.
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
I just cant give you enough
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
How can you give me your love ?
Now give me your love!
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
Give me
How can you give me your trust
With a handful of dust ?
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Handful Of Dust
Your pressed your face against my heart
I felt that you could look right through me
we live in days that have no time
we live in times that now refuse me
and somewhere out beyond his town
there lies a world that now can turn us round
and we need it and we need it
oh got to have some thing to believe in
I've got enough to believe in you
what can I give just to know that it's true ?
But I've gotta begin to say
now they've taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
I feel to thin before your eyes
I feel so naked under open skies
I once stood tall within this town
but now the time has come to bring us down.
We must have more with his power in hand
we must believe things will go as we planned
but I've gotta begin to say
now they've taken my pride in this way.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust,
with a handful of dust ?
Making love through electric skies
now I know where my fortune lies
breathe the air and feel this land
'cause it's slipping through me
like dust from my hand.
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
I just can't give you enough
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
How can you give me your love ?
Now give me your love!
how can you give me your trust
with a handful of dust ?
How can you give me your love ?
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The Queen Of England
COME forth! the world's aflame with flags and flowers,
The shout of bells fills full the shattered air,
This is the crown of all your golden hours,
More than all other hours august and fair;
This did the years prepare,
A triumph for our Lady and our Queen,
More rich than any king in any land hath seen.
Clothed are your streets with scarlet, gold, and blue,
Flowers under foot and banners over head,
And while your people's voice storms Heaven for you
About your way are voiceless blessings shed,
And over you are spread
Wide wings of love, free love, tamed to your hand,
Love that gold cannot buy, nor Majesty command.
Not these mere visible millions only, share
Your triumph--here all English hearts beat high,
Nations far off your royal colours wear,
And swell with unheard voice this loyal cry
That strikes the English sky:
A cloud of unseen witnesses is here
To testify how great is England's Queen, and dear.
From out the grey-veiled past, long years away,
Come visionary faces, vision-led,
And splendid shapes that are not of our day,
The spirits of the mute and mighty dead,
To see how Time has sped
The fortunes of their England, and behold
How much more great she is than in the days of old.
The world can see them not; but you can see--
You the inheritor of all the past
Wherein the dead, in noble heraldry,
Blazoned the shield of England, and forecast
The charge it bears at last--
More splendid than the azure and the or
Of the French lilies lost--long lost and sorrowed for.
Here be the weaponed men, the English folk,
Who in long ships across the swan's bath fared,
In whose rude tongue the voice of Freedom spoke,
In whose rough hands the sword was bright and bared--
The men who did and dared,
And to their sons bequeathed the fighting blood
That drives to Victory and will not be withstood.
Here, in your ordered festival, O Queen,
Mixed with the crowd and all unseen of these,
On their long swords the wild Norse rovers lean
And watch the progress of your pageantries,
And on this young June breeze
Float the bright pennons of the Cressy spears--
Shine shadowy shafts that fell, as snow falls, at Poitiers.
Here flutter phantom flags that once flew free
Above the travail of the tournament;
Here gleam old swords, once wet for Liberty;
Old blood-stiff banners, worn with war and rent,
Are with your fresh flowers blent,
And by your crown, where love and fame consort,
Shines the unvanquished cloven crown of Agincourt.
Upon your river where, by day and night,
Your world-adventuring ships come home again,
Glide ghostly galleons, manned by men of might
Who plucked the wings and singed the beard of Spain;
The men who, not in vain,
Saved to the children of a world new-trod
The birth-tongue of our land, her freedom, and her God.
Princes who lived to make our England great,
Poets who wreathed her greatness with their song,
Wise men who steered her heavy ship of State,
Brave men who steered her battle-ships along,
In spectral concourse throng
To applaud the consummated power and pride
Of that belovèd land for which they lived and died.
The thousand un-named heroes who, sword-strong,
Ploughed the long acre wherein Empire grows
Wide as the world, and long as Time is long--
These mark the crescence of the English rose
Whose thorny splendour glows
O'er far-off subject lands, by alien waves,
A crown for England's brow, a garland for her graves.
And faces out of unforgotten years,
Faces long hidden by death's misty screen,
Faces you still can scarcely see for tears,
Will smile on you to-day and near you lean,
O Mother, Wife, and Queen!
With whispered love too sacred and too dear
For any ear than yours, Mother and Wife, to hear.
Lady, the crowd will vaunt to-day your fame,
Daughter and heir of many mighty kings,
The Queen of England, whose imperial name
From England's heart and lips tumultuous springs
In prayers and thanksgivings,
Because your greatness and her greatness shine
Merged each in each, as stars their beams that intertwine.
Yet in the inmost heart, where folded close
The richest treasures of the poorest lie,
Love, whose clear eyes see many secrets, knows
A nobler name than Queen to call you by,
And breathes it silently;
But, 'mid His listening crowd of angels, One
Shall speak your name and say, 'Faithful and good, well done!'
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Shelter Of Your Arms
In this cold world
No matter where I go
The crowds are all the same
And they among just
Evil in the sand
A face without a name
Nobody gives a hang
For what I say or do
But you
And in the shelter of your arms
I find peace and comfort and care
For I am wanted there
In this cold world
You struggle to survive
And sometimes you can fall
Youd think someone
Would lend a helping hand
Theyd sooner see you crawl
But just when life itself
Seems more than I can bear
Youre there
And in the shelter of your arms
I find strength and safety and then
I rise and start again
Just give me one good reason
To go on living
To keep on trying
For what, I ask you for what
If not for you
And all your love
To see me through
But just when life itself
Seems more than I can bear
Youre there
And in the shelter of your arms
I find strength and safety and then
I rise and start again
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am from Pretoria
Notwithstanding the way
that the country and world goes,
I still want to stand for many years
in the streets with purple-blue
Jacaranda trees.
Let my friends go and live
in London, New York,
Amsterdam and Sydney
but in Pretoria I earn my keep
and no other city
calls me away from my fatherland
since only Pretoria
is right for me.
I am from Pretoria,
a place where princes stay
and if you go to Pretoria
you will find many Afrikaner princes there.
In Pretoria noble Afrikaners are everywhere
and they build their lives
in the right way
and like their ancestors,
still cling to the hand
of the Almighty God.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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