En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Poor Children

Take heed of this small child of earth;
He is great; he hath in him God most high.
Children before their fleshly birth
Are lights alive in the blue sky.

In our light bitter world of wrong
They come; God gives us them awhile.
His speech is in their stammering tongue,
And his forgiveness in their smile.

Their sweet light rests upon our eyes.
Alas! their right to joy is plain.
If they are hungry Paradise
Weeps, and, if cold, Heaven thrills with pain.

The want that saps their sinless flower
Speaks judgment on sin's ministers.
Man holds an angel in his power.
Ah! deep in Heaven what thunder stirs,

When God seeks out these tender things
Whom in the shadow where we sleep
He sends us clothed about with wings,
And finds them ragged babes that weep!

poem by Victor Hugo
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A Baby's Death

A little soul scarce fledged for earth
Takes wing with heaven again for goal
Even while we hailed as fresh from birth
A little soul.

Our thoughts ring sad as bells that toll,
Not knowing beyond this blind world's girth
What things are writ in heaven's full scroll.

Our fruitfulness is there but dearth,
And all things held in time's control
Seem there, perchance, ill dreams, not worth
A little soul.

The little feet that never trod
Earth, never strayed in field or street,
What hand leads upward back to God
The little feet?

A rose in June's most honied heat,
When life makes keen the kindling sod,
Was not so soft and warm and sweet.

Their pilgrimage's period
A few swift moons have seen complete
Since mother's hands first clasped and shod
The little feet.

The little hands that never sought
Earth's prizes, worthless all as sands,
What gift has death, God's servant, brought
The little hands?

We ask: but love's self silent stands,
Love, that lends eyes and wings to thought
To search where death's dim heaven expands.

Ere this, perchance, though love know nought,
Flowers fill them, grown in lovelier lands,
Where hands of guiding angels caught
The little hands.

The little eyes that never knew
Light other than of dawning skies,
What new life now lights up anew
The little eyes?

Who knows but on their sleep may rise
Such light as never heaven let through
To lighten earth from Paradise?

No storm, we know, may change the blue
Soft heaven that haply death descries
No tears, like these in ours, bedew
The little eyes.

Was life so strange, so sad the sky,
So strait the wide world's range,
He would not stay to wonder why
Was life so strange?

Was earth's fair house a joyless grange
Beside that house on high
Whence Time that bore him failed to estrange?

That here at once his soul put by
All gifts of time and change,
And left us heavier hearts to sigh
'Was life so strange?'

Angel by name love called him, seeing so fair
The sweet small frame;
Meet to be called, if ever man's child were,
Angel by name.

Rose-bright and warm from heaven's own heart he came,
And might not bear
The cloud that covers earth's wan face with shame.

His little light of life was all too rare
And soft a flame:
Heaven yearned for him till angels hailed him there
Angel by name.

The song that smiled upon his birthday here
Weeps on the grave that holds him undefiled
Whose loss makes bitterer than a soundless tear
The song that smiled.

His name crowned once the mightiest ever styled
Sovereign of arts, and angel: fate and fear
Knew then their master, and were reconciled.

But we saw born beneath some tenderer sphere
Michael, an angel and a little child,
Whose loss bows down to weep upon his bier
The song that smiled.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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On the Christmas tree

She flew over the fallen snow,
Looking for the lonely soul,
Maybe it was for me,
I don't know.

I saw her light,
one cold Christmas night,
She flew over the forest,
With tears in her eyes,
She found a place to rest,
In the winter skies,
God looked down from above,
His heart was touched by her love,
He said I hope,
that the world sees.
A angel 's light,
shining though the trees,

It's Christmas time.
And God must smile,
For it's the birth day of His child,
He prays that the world,
will someday find peace.
As His heart finds sweet ease,
With the angel's light,
that He sees,
shining through,
His Christmas trees.

She looked up toward heaven,
with tears in her eyes,
She said.,
Im crying for all who,
doesn't know christ,
For those who are blind,
and need to see,
I shine a light,
on the Christmas tree.

It was a cold winter night,
that chilled to the bone,
When I saw the light,
now the angel is gone,
But I will always remember,
that she let me see,
The light of heaven,
on the Christmas tree.

poem by Judy Arline Puckett
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OH, Angel in Heaven Above

Oh, Angel Eyes One Day I heard an Angel's voice & I Said To The Angel I see Your Big Beautiful Eyes in The Haven's Above, OH, Angel in Heaven Above,
OH! Wont you Come Down here & Talk to me..I long to Hear your Soft Sweet Voice Sing to me, When you just Talk to me..When the Heaven above Had opened up & your wings stretched out so proud & wide with Your feathers unfolding, like a gentle
tide, Soring throw the midnight sky so Gracefully, Just like an Swan Swimming in a pond. & then
an Angel Appeared, Oh to my eyes My dearest Angels the most beautiful site, I have ever seen that has
just came from Heaven Above, Standing In front of me singing that never ending Sweet time Summer song So
Gracefully with your Angel's eyes, they shine so bright It, lights the darkness of a moonless
midnight sky. As you Talk to me with those Sweet worlds of Fraze in my Ear, Oh so sexy, soft &
sweet, Oh How I love it......I had such Fun hearing it. But now That I am down & out For Awhile.
Can you Repair my Broken Heart so I Can take control of my life again. That you Have Broke, For
Which You Don't Seem To Talk to Me any More Or is it like a beat that my heart is Missing.
Oh Angel Friend of Mine....... Can you restore Every thing That's Broken Does It matter If It's
black or white, Down & out for Awhile or Up & Running like A humming Bird............. But then
again I could be wrong. The words, they linger on the tip of my tongue Oh Angel My Dear.What have
I done wrong? In the heart My Darling Angel Friend.. A feather, A Feather Flowing in the Wind is
my Heart, Oh Please Cough that Feather for me my Darling Angel For Silence is Loulder Then THUNDER
& Talk to me Again....For It Been a Long Time For Thow Has Talked To Me........Oh Angel, Oh Angel
Where For Are Thow Angel...For Thow Has Gone Away & left Me In The Dark, Oh Angel Eyes, But, It's Not
That I am Sacred Of The Dark It's Because I Can't Sleep With a Light On..Or Is It Just That You've
Closed Your Angel Eyes For Awhile, Oh Angel friend Of Mine.So If That Is The Case Then Well you
Open Your Angel Eyes My Princess Darling To Me & Speak To Me With That Sexy, Soft & Sweet Voice That
You Sing To Me, When You Just Talk To Me. Oh Angel from Heaven Above......... Oh, I Long To Hear
Your Soft Sweet Sexy Voice Sing To Me Again Someday.... Because Your Voice Was Filled With
Sweet Melody, So Worm, Soft & Sexy To My Ear. Is It Really Good By For Ever My Princess Darling
To Me.......& For The Thunder Roll Again, Just As The Whisper From An Angel In Pain For Why Shall
Any Angel Be In Pain, Oh Angel, Oh Angel Wont You Opened Up Your Wings & Stetch Them Out, So
Proud And Wide With Your Feathers Unfolding, Like A Gentle Tide & Fly To Me & Tell Me What's
Wrong So May Help You Over Come This Pain In Your Heart & Be Free Again From The Pain That is
With In The, For I Have Looked To The Heavens To Find The, But Thow is No Where To Be Found, Oh
Heaven's Above Where For Art Thow Angel That Used To Talk So Sweetly In they Ear, But Now Has Gone
Away It Seems At Least For now, If Not For Ever, I Look In The Mirror & I Seen A Trace Of The One
That I Miss And Her Beautiful Face Be Bind Me But When I Looked Around There Was An Empty Feeling
Of The Love That I Once Made Is Now Gone Away..... Your Sweet Voice Warms Up My Soul & My Heart
Skips A Beat I Will Never Stop Looking For Her, You've Changed All Our Lives Every One That You
Meet OH Angel Eyes. Your Memory Will Last Forever, Forever And A Day, OH Angel In Heaven Above..
I live Without Her For So Long & now I Wont A Change.......I Live Every Day Now Just To Hear your
Sweet Soft Sexey Voice Sing To Me When You Just Talk To Me....But For Now I am Waiting On That
Sign I have Been Looking For All My Life...........1994

poem by Ronald Summerville
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Belladonna

The ballet's of dancing feet
Are not as delicate, not as sweet
Nimble or soft
As they soul dancing in front of me
My mind aloft
Thine soul deftly
Step in me as thy walk in me
Like my souls the sun
And thy soles burn
No flowers bloom,
No angel's wings spread
No butterflies flower
No baby is conceived
As thou conceive to me
Thine true beauty blooms
Thy wings spread
Thy butterflies flower
As my souls breadth
Grows free with thee
Thy book opens
Its heart to me
For love to read
Thine voice is paradise found
Through you paradise speak
Through you heaven's tears weep
Through you heaven's perfume seep
Through you heaven's love meek
Through you heaven's flower blush
Through heaven's tender cheek
This is grace
This the face
Of love's turning dial
Of my love's smile

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Portrait Of A Child

That brow, that smile, that cheek so fair,
Beseem my child, who weeps and plays:
A heavenly spirit guards her ways,
From whom she stole that mixture rare.
Through all her features shining mild,
The poet sees an angel there,
The father sees a child.

And by their flame so pure and bright,
We see how lately those sweet eyes
Have wandered down from Paradise,
And still are lingering in its light.

All earthly things are but a shade
Through which she looks at things above,
And sees the holy Mother-maid,
Athwart her mother's glance of love.

She seems celestial songs to hear,
And virgin souls are whispering near.
Till by her radiant smile deceived,
I say, 'Young angel, lately given,
When was thy martyrdom achieved?
And what name lost thou bear in heaven?'

poem by Victor Hugo
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Paradise: In A Symbol

Golden-winged, silver-winged,
Winged with flashing flame,
Such a flight of birds I saw,
Birds without a name:
Singing songs in their own tongue
(Song of songs) they came.

One to another calling,
Each answering each,
One to another calling
In their proper speech:
High above my head they wheeled,
Far out of reach.

On wings of flame they went and came
With a cadenced clang,
Their silver wings tinkled,
Their golden wings rang,
The wind it whistled through their wings
Where in Heaven they sang.

They flashed and they darted
Awhile before mine eyes,
Mounting, mounting, mounting still
In haste to scale the skies—
Birds without a nest on earth,
Birds of Paradise.

Where the moon riseth not,
Nor sun seeks the west,
There to sing their glory
Which they sing at rest,
There to sing their love-song
When they sing their best:

Not in any garden
That mortal foot hath trod,
Not in any flowering tree
That springs from earthly sod,
But in the garden where they dwell,
The Paradise of God.

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Planted In The Middle Of Earth's Mire

Planted in the middle of earth's mire
A sweet flower pungent in agonizing scent
With thorns on her stem, like a brier
To protect herself, for she's heaven sent
Causing hearts to bleed and senses to die
The love filled rose, its intense emotion
Sends the lover's muse to heights above high
Flying to death with open wings in motion
Inquiring heaven, to beg for her salvation
For she yearns to die and forever be free
From her pain, from her only vexation
The mire that surrounds, and threatens she
So I pick her flower and throw her away
Into heaven's shadow, wert she yearn to stay…

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Weeping angels

Down from heaven
to show the way to paradise
for the newly dead
the angels weep

So young
so innocent
so senseless
the angels weep

Eyes down
wings at there sides
words not exchanged
the angels weep

32 new angels
no need to earn there wings
like jesus they died for other peoples sins
in heaven they will weep

In heaven they will be called apon
to one day escort the new to paradise
and they will

With eyes down
wings at there sides
and tears in there eyes
weeping forever

God bless all who lost there lives today
and there familys
America loves you
and your scarfice will not be forgotten

poem by Vincent Armone
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Tell Me Theres A Heaven

The little girl she said to me
What are these things that I can see
Each night when I come home from school
And mama calls me in for tea
Oh every night a baby dies
And every night a mama cries
What makes those men do what they do
To make that person black and blue
Grandpa says their happy now
They sit with God in paradise
With angels wings and still somehow
It makes me feel like ice
Tell me theres a heaven
Tell me that its true
Tell me theres a reason
Why Im seeing what I do
Tell me theres a heaven
Where all those people go
Tell me theyre all happy now
Papa tell me that its so
So do I tell her that its true
That theres a place for me and you
Where hungry children smile and say
We wouldnt have no other way
That every painful crack of bones
Is a step along the way
Every wrong done is a game plan
To that great and joyful day
And Im looking at the father and the son
And Im looking at the mother and the daughter
And Im watching them in tears of pain
And Im watching them suffer
Dont tell that little girl
Tell me
Tell me theres a heaven
Tell me that its true
Tell me theres a reason
Why Im seeing what I do
Tell me theres a heaven
Where all those people go
Tell me theyre all happy now
Papa tell me that its so

song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Rocking Hymn

Sweet baby, sleep! what ails my dear,
What ails my darling thus to cry?
Be still, my child, and lend thine ear
To hear me sing thy lullaby.
My pretty lamb, forbear to weep;
Be still, my dear; sweet baby, sleep.

Thou blessed soul, what canst thou fear?
What thing to thee can mischief do?
Thy God is now thy father dear,
His holy Spouse, thy mother too.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

Though thy conception was in sin,
A sacred bathing thou hast had;
And, though thy birth unclean hath been,
A blameless babe thou now art made.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my dear; sweet baby, sleep,

While thus thy lullaby I sing,
For thee great blessings ripening be;
Thine eldest brother is a King,
And hath a kingdom bought for thee.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

Sweet baby, sleep and nothing fear,
For whosoever thee offends,
By thy protector threat'ned are,
And God and angels are thy friends.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

When God with us was dwelling here,
In little babes he took delight;
Such innocents as thou, my dear,
Are ever precious in His sight.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

A little infant once was He,
And, strength in weakness, then was laid
Upon His virgin-mother's knee,
That power to thee might be conveyed.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

In this, thy frailty and thy need,
He friends and helpers doth prepare,
Which thee shall cherish, clothe and feed;
For of thy weal they tender are.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

The King of kings, when he was born,
Had not so much for outward ease;
By Him such dressings were not worn,
Nor such like swaddling-clothes as these.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

Within a manger lodged thy Lord
Where oxen lay and asses fed;
Warm rooms we do to thee afford,
An easy cradle or a bed.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

The wants that He did then sustain
Have purchased wealth, my babe, for thee;
And by His torments and His pain
Thy rest and ease securèd be.
My baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

Thou hast (yet more) to perfect this,
A promise and an earnest got
Of gaining everlasting bliss,
Though thou, my babe, perceiv'st it not;
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.

poem by George Wither
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The Complaint of Lisa

There is no woman living who draws breath
So sad as I, though all things sadden her.
There is not one upon life's weariest way
Who is weary as I am weary of all but death.
Toward whom I look as looks the sunflower
All day with all his whole soul toward the sun;
While in the sun's sight I make moan all day,
And all night on my sleepless maiden bed.
Weep and call out on death, O Love, and thee,
That thou or he would take me to the dead.
And know not what thing evil I have done
That life should lay such heavy hand on me.

Alas! Love, what is this thou wouldst with me?
What honor shalt thou have to quench my breath,
Or what shall my heart broken profit thee?
O Love, O great god Love, what have I done,
That thou shouldst hunger so after my death?
My heart is harmless as my life's first day:
Seek out some false fair woman, and plague her
Till her tears even as my tears fill her bed:
I am the least flower in thy flowery way,
But till my time be come that I be dead,
Let me live out my flower-time in the sun,
Though my leaves shut before the sunflower.

O Love, Love, Love, the kingly sunflower!
Shall he the sun hath looked on look on me,
That live down here in shade, out of the sun,
Here living in the sorrow and shadow of death?
Shall he that feeds his heart full of the day
Care to give mine eyes light, or my lips breath?
Because she loves him, shall my lord love her
Who is as a worm in my lord's kingly way?
I shall not see him or know him alive or dead;
But thou, I know thee, O Love, and pray to thee
That in brief while my brief life-days be done,
And the worm quickly make my marriage-bed.

For underground there is no sleepless bed.
But here since I beheld my sunflower
These eyes have slept not, seeing all night and day
His sunlike eyes, and face fronting the sun.
Wherefore, if anywhere be any death,
I fain would find and fold him fast to me,
That I may sleep with the world's eldest dead,
With her that died seven centuries since, and her
That went last night down the night-wandering way.
For this is sleep indeed, when labor is done,
Without love, without dreams, and without breath,
And without thought, O name unnamed! of thee.

Ah! but, forgetting all things, shall I thee?
Wilt thou not be as now about my bed
There underground as here before the sun?
Shall not thy vision vex me alive and dead,
Thy moving vision without form or breath?
I read long since the bitter tale of her
Who read the tale of Launcelot on a day,
And died, and had no quiet after death,
But was moved ever along a weary way,
Lost with her love in the underworld; ah me,
O my king, O my lordly sunflower,
Would God to me, too, such a thing were done!

But if such sweet and bitter things be done,
Then, flying from life, I shall not fly from thee.
For in that living world without a sun
Thy vision will lay hold upon me dead,
And meet and mock me, and mar my peace in death.
Yet if being wroth, God had such pity on her,
Who was a sinner and foolish in her day,
That even in hell they twain should breathe one breath,
Why should he not in some wise pity me?
So if I sleep not in my soft strait bed,
I may look up and see my sunflower
As he the sun, in some divine strange way.

O poor my heart, well knowest thou in what way
This sore sweet evil unto us was done.
For on a holy and a heavy day
I was arisen out of my still small bed
To see the knights tilt, and one said to me
"The king;" and seeing him, somewhat stopped my breath;
And if the girl spake more, I heard her not,
For only I saw what I shall see when dead,
A kingly flower of knights, a sunflower,
That shone against the sunlight like the sun,
And like a fire, O heart, consuming thee,
The fire of love that lights the pyre of death.

Howbeit I shall not die an evil death
Who have loved in such a sad and sinless way,
That this my love, lord, was no shame to thee.
So when mine eyes are shut against the sun,
O my soul's sun, O the world's sunflower,
Thou nor no man will quite despise me dead.
And dying I pray with all my low last breath
That thy whole life may be as was that day,
That feast-day that made trothplight death and me,
Giving the world light of thy great deeds done;
And that fair face brightening thy bridal bed,
That God be good as God hath been to her.

That all things goodly and glad remain with her,
All things that make glad life and goodly death;
That as a bee sucks from a sunflower
Honey, when summer draws delighted breath,
Her soul may drink of thy soul in like way,
And love make life a fruitful marriage-bed
Where day may bring forth fruits of joy to day
And night to night till days and nights be dead.
And as she gives light of her love to thee,
Give thou to her the old glory of days long done;
And either give some heat of light to me,
To warm me where I sleep without the sun.

O sunflower make drunken with the sun,
O knight whose lady's heart draws thine to her,
Great king, glad lover, I have a word to thee.
There is a weed lives out of the sun's way,
Hid from the heat deep in the meadow's bed,
That swoons and whitens at the wind's least breath,
A flower star-shaped, that all a summer day
Will gaze her soul out on the sunflower
For very love till twilight finds her dead.
But the great sunflower heeds not her poor death,
Knows not when all her loving life is done;
And so much knows my lord the king of me.

Ay, all day long he has no eye for me;
With golden eye following the golden sun
From rose-colored to purple-pillowed bed,
From birthplace to the flame-lit place of death,
From eastern end to western of his way,
So mine eye follows thee, my sunflower,
So the white star-flower turns and yearns to thee,
The sick weak weed, not well alive or dead,
Trod under foot if any pass by her,
Pale, without color of summer or summer breath
In the shrunk shuddering petals, that have done
No work but love, and die before the day.

But thou, to-day, to-morrow, and every day,
Be glad and great, O love whose love slays me.
Thy fervent flower made fruitful from the sun
Shall drop its golden seed in the world's way,
That all men thereof nourished shall praise thee
For grain and flower and fruit of works well done;
Till thy shed seed, O shining sunflower,
Bring forth such growth of the world's garden-bed
As like the sun shall outlive age and death.
And yet I would thine heart had heed of her
Who loves thee alive; but not till she be dead.
Come, Love, then, quickly, and take her utmost breath.

Song, speak for me who am dumb as are the dead;
From my sad bed of tears I send forth thee,
To fly all day from sun's birth to sun's death
Down the sun's way after the flying sun,
For love of her that gave thee wings and breath
Ere day be done, to seek the sunflower.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Too Close To Heaven

All your trouble will be over, so will your pain
you are gonna see those blue skies bursting right through the rain
The higher you climb, the lower you fall
You got too close to heaven, that's all
Now in the morning you can cry all you want to
- we'll spend the whole day weeping
Right now I want you to lay down your weary head
and let me see you sleeping
You've been walking around baby, inflamed and ashamed
feeling like you're one inch tall
You got too close to heaven, that's all
You're way too hard on yourself baby
- you got some pretty basic things wrong
You wouldn't believe me if I told you why I wrote you into this song
You're looking at your heart baby, and you're calling it black
but like Icarus and like Saul
You got too close to heaven, that's all
Now I know this hurt you're feeling - I've felt these same things too
I've got spaces way down deep inside of me that are just the same as you
You wanna wrap your arms around your head, turn out the lights
and roll yourself into a ball
You got too close to heaven, that's all
Are you blinded by the brilliance ?
Are you dazzled by the Light ?
Why is it I see nothing but emptiness in your tired beaten eyes
that once were bright
I know you just can't help but run when you hear that sweet voice call
You got too close to heaven, that's all
I walked a mile for you baby
so won't you smile for me baby ?

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Too Close To Heaven

All your trouble will be over, so will your pain
you are gonna see those blue skies bursting right through the rain
The higher you climb, the lower you fall
You got too close to heaven, that's all
Now in the morning you can cry all you want to
- we'll spend the whole day weeping
Right now I want you to lay down your weary head
and let me see you sleeping
You've been walking around baby, inflamed and ashamed
feeling like you're one inch tall
You got too close to heaven, that's all
You're way too hard on yourself baby
- you got some pretty basic things wrong
You wouldn't believe me if I told you why I wrote you into this song
You're looking at your heart baby, and you're calling it black
but like Icarus and like Saul
You got too close to heaven, that's all
Now I know this hurt you're feeling - I've felt these same things too
I've got spaces way down deep inside of me that are just the same as you
You wanna wrap your arms around your head, turn out the lights
and roll yourself into a ball
You got too close to heaven, that's all
Are you blinded by the brilliance ?
Are you dazzled by the Light ?
Why is it I see nothing but emptiness in your tired beaten eyes
that once were bright
I know you just can't help but run when you hear that sweet voice call
You got too close to heaven, that's all
I walked a mile for you baby
so won't you smile for me baby ?

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Closer To Heaven

(lead vocal - eric woolfson)
Rising and falling lighter than air
Silently calling no one is there
Oh, bird that is flying so high and so free
Closer to heaven than you and me
Voices of strangers keep me from sleep
Guardian angels watch over the deep
A ship that is sailing way out to the sea
Closer to heaven than you and me
Visions of rain fall out of blue skies
Rivers of tears fall out of dry eyes
Answer my question tell me no lies
Is this the real world or a fools paradise?
Wind that is blowing so wild and so free
Closer to heaven than you and me
Closer to heaven longing to be
Closer to heaven than you and me
Visions of rain fall out of blue skies
Rivers of tears fall out of dry eyes
Answer my question tell me no lies
Is this the real world or a fools paradise?
Love that lies sleeping wakes in the night
Secrets for keeping that wont see the light
I look to the future and I hope it will be
Closer to heaven than you and me
Closer to heaven longing to be
Closer to heaven than you and me

song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The First Embrace

Come to me, grief, on my bosom press,
Lest it should burst with joy’s excess:
Heaven, with disaster, hell, with your pains,
Calm its commotion. For here awhile
She has lain. Strike, foes!
Your shafts but soothe, when they pierce the veins
Of a breast that lows
With the bliss of her thrill and her smile.

Sorrow and trouble have died away
Here, where her face in its loveliness lay.
Drowned she these in the deep of her eye?
Or sucked she their venom? I seemed to mark,
On her smiling lips,
How a tremulous shadow of pain passed by:
And the blue grew dark,
As her eyes’ light found eclipse.

Innocent bride, thou hast joined afresh
Soul with earth, and with God the flesh.
When on my breast, as pure and bright
As a saint’s white robe, thy perfect brow
Gently was lain,
Guilt with its tear-steins vanished quite,
And my mind is now
Like a cleansed and lighted fane.

My heart reflected an inward grace
From the sinless blush of thy maiden face:
To the waft of celestial wings was changed
The tress that wavered over me;
And, O joy, my soul,
Demoniac once, from heaven estranged,
Is, thanks to thee,
Darling, restored and whole.

I feel, where thy loving lips have pressed,
A glory shining within my breast,
And O, the paeans of love that burst,
At the touch of thy passionless, drowsy kiss.
I was fired and manned, -
While my fancy drank with a burning thirst
All the sweet of this
By a tender angel’s hand.

Love, while you lay by my beating heart,
What burgeoning blossoms seemed to start!
Blossoms that lived, and dreamed, and thought.
Almond or apple ws never so gay;
So rich a stream
Of the sun’s blood never the roses caught.
My soul its clay
Left in a blissful dram.

Cold, dark spirit, hold thee apart,
Or blend with the blood that stirs my heart;
Let it flow supreme in its pulses still,
Let nerves aquiver their passion prove,
And in ecstasy
Hark to the breast’s tense chords athrill,
Where, tranced in love,
She late at rest did lie

poem by Henrik Wergeland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heaven Must Be Wondering Where You Are

(L. David Lewis/David Chamberlain)
Some where up there beyond the blue
Surley by now somebody's missin' you
I found the angel they must be lookin' for
Heaven must be wondering where you are
When I look into your eye's
It's so plain to see
Nothin' here on earth describes what you mean to me
Out of this world when I hold you in my arms
Heaven must be wondering where you are
Lucky me to be the one to find
Someone like you this side of paradise
I know how lost I'd be without here sweetheart
Heaven must be wondering where you are
Some where up there beyond the blue
Surley by now somebody's missin' you
I found the angel they must be lookin' for
Heaven must be wondering where you are
I found the angel they must be lookin' for
Heaven must be wondering where you are

song performed by by George Strait
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel

Angel came down
From heaven yesterday,
Stayed with me just long enough
To rescue me....
And she told me a story yesterday;
About the sweet love
Between the moon and the deep blue sea.
Then she spread her wings high over me.
She said,Ill come back again to see you tomorrow....
And I said fly on, my sweet angel.
Fly on through the sky.
Fly on, my sweet angel.
Tomorrow Im gonna be by your side....
Sure enough,
This woman came home to me.
Silver wings silhouetted against a childs sunrise....
And my angel,
She said unto me,
today is the day for you to rise.
Take my hand, youre gonna be my mind,
And she took me high over yonder.....
And I said fly on, my sweet angel.
Fly on through the sky.
Fly on, my sweet angel.
Tomorrow Im gonna be by your side....

song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fourth Sunday After Trinity

It was not then a poet's dream,
An idle vaunt of song,
Such as beneath the moon's soft gleam
On vacant fancies throng;

Which bids us see in heaven and earth,
In all fair things around,
Strong yearnings for a blest new birth
With sinless glories crowned;

Which bids us hear, at each sweet pause
From care and want and toil,
When dewy eve her curtain draws
Over the day's turmoil,

In the low chant of wakeful birds,
In the deep weltering flood,
In whispering leaves, these solemn words -
"God made us all for good."

All true, all faultless, all in tune
Creation's wondrous choir,
Opened in mystic unison
To last till time expire.

And still it lasts; by day and night,
With one consenting voice,
All hymn Thy glory, Lord, aright,
All worship and rejoice.

Man only mars the sweet accord
O'erpowering with "harsh din"
The music of Thy works and word,
Ill matched with grief and sin.

Sin is with man at morning break,
And through the livelong day
Deafens the ear that fain would wake
To Nature's simple lay.

But when eve's silent footfall steals
Along the eastern sky,
And one by one to earth reveals
Those purer fires on high,

When one by one each human sound
Dies on the awful ear,
Then Nature's voice no more is drowned,
She speaks, and we must hear.

Then pours she on the Christian heart
That warning still and deep,
At which high spirits of old would start
E'en from their Pagan sleep.

Just guessing, through their murky blind
Few, faint, and baffling sight,
Streaks of a brighter heaven behind,
A cloudless depth of light.

Such thoughts, the wreck of Paradise,
Through many a dreary age,
Upbore whate'er of good and wise
Yet lived in bard or sage:

They marked what agonizing throes
Shook the great mother's womb:
But Reason's spells might not disclose
The gracious birth to come:

Nor could the enchantress Hope forecast
God's secret love and power;
The travail pangs of Earth must last
Till her appointed hour.

The hour that saw from opening heaven
Redeeming glory stream,
Beyond the summer hues of even,
Beyond the mid-day beam.

Thenceforth, to eyes of high desire,
The meanest thing below,
As with a seraph's robe of fire
Invested, burn and glow:

The rod of Heaven has touched them all,
The word from Heaven is spoken:
"Rise, shine, and sing, thou captive thrall;
Are not thy fetters broken?

"The God Who hallowed thee and blest,
Pronouncing thee all good -
Hath He not all thy wrongs redrest,
And all thy bliss renewed?

"Why mourn'st thou still as one bereft,
Now that th' eternal Son
His blessed home in Heaven hath left
To make thee all His own?"

Thou mourn'st because sin lingers still
In Christ's new heaven and earth;
Because our rebel works and will
Stain our immortal birth:

Because, as Love and Prayer grow cold,
The Saviour hides His face,
And worldlings blot the temple's gold
With uses vile and base.

Hence all thy groans and travail pains,
Hence, till thy God return,
In Wisdom's ear thy blithest strains,
Oh Nature, seem to mourn.

poem by John Keble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Genesis

In the outer world that was before this earth,
That was before all shape or space was born,
Before the blind first hour of time had birth,
Before night knew the moonlight or the morn;

Yea, before any world had any light,
Or anything called God or man drew breath,
Slowly the strong sides of the heaving night
Moved, and brought forth the strength of life and death.

And the sad shapeless horror increate
That was all things and one thing, without fruit,
Limit, or law; where love was none, nor hate,
Where no leaf came to blossom from no root;

The very darkness that time knew not of,
Nor God laid hand on, nor was man found there,
Ceased, and was cloven in several shapes; above
Light, and night under, and fire, earth, water, and air.

Sunbeams and starbeams, and all coloured things,
All forms and all similitudes began;
And death, the shadow cast by life's wide wings,
And God, the shade cast by the soul of man.

Then between shadow and substance, night and light,
Then between birth and death, and deeds and days,
The illimitable embrace and the amorous fight
That of itself begets, bears, rears, and slays,

The immortal war of mortal things that is
Labour and life and growth and good and ill,
The mild antiphonies that melt and kiss,
The violent symphonies that meet and kill,

All nature of all things began to be.
But chiefliest in the spirit (beast or man,
Planet of heaven or blossom of earth or sea)
The divine contraries of life began.

For the great labour of growth, being many, is one;
One thing the white death and the ruddy birth;
The invisible air and the all-beholden sun,
And barren water and many-childed earth.

And these things are made manifest in men
From the beginning forth unto this day:
Time writes and life records them, and again
Death seals them lest the record pass away.

For if death were not, then should growth not be,
Change, nor the life of good nor evil things;
Nor were there night at all nor light to see,
Nor water of sweet nor water of bitter springs.

For in each man and each year that is born
Are sown the twin seeds of the strong twin powers;
The white seed of the fruitful helpful morn,
The black seed of the barren hurtful hours.

And he that of the black seed eateth fruit,
To him the savour as honey shall be sweet;
And he in whom the white seed hath struck root,
He shall have sorrow and trouble and tears for meat.

And him whose lips the sweet fruit hath made red
In the end men loathe and make his name a rod;
And him whose mouth on the unsweet fruit hath fed
In the end men follow and know for very God.

And of these twain, the black seed and the white,
All things come forth, endured of men and done;
And still the day is great with child of night,
And still the black night labours with the sun.

And each man and each year that lives on earth
Turns hither or thither, and hence or thence is fed;
And as a man before was from his birth,
So shall a man be after among the dead.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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A Song

Sweet dreams, form a shade
O'er my lovely infant's head!
Sweet dreams of pleasant streams
By happy, silent, moony beams!

Sweet Sleep, with soft down
Weave thy brows an infant crown
Sweet Sleep, angel mild,
Hover o'er my happy child!

Sweet smiles, in the night
Hover over my delight!
Sweet smiles, mother's smile,
All the livelong night beguile.

Sweet moans, dovelike sighs,
Chase not slumber from thine eyes!
Sweet moan, sweeter smile,
All the dovelike moans beguile.

Sleep, sleep, happy child!
All creation slept and smiled.
Sleep, sleep, happy sleep,
While o'er thee doth mother weep.

Sweet babe, in thy face
Holy image I can trace;
Sweet babe, once like thee
Thy Maker lay, and wept for me:

Wept for me, for thee, for all,
When He was an infant small.
Thou His image ever see,
Heavenly face that smiles on thee!

Smiles on thee, on me, on all,
Who became an infant small;
Infant smiles are his own smiles;
Heaven and earth to peace beguiles.

poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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