A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XIX
Alas, that words like these should be but folly!
Behold, the Boulevard mocks, and I mock too.
Let us away and purge our melancholy
With the last laughter at the Ambigu!
Here all is real. Here glory's self is true
Through each regime to its own mission holy
Of plying still the world with something new
To cure its ache, or nobly souled or lowly.
One title Paris holds above the rest
Untouched by time or fortune's change or frown,
One temple of high fame, where she sits dressed
In youth eternal, and mirth's myrtle crown,
And where she writes, each night, with deathless hands,
``To all the glories--of the stage--of France.''
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Related quotes
Here I Come-4
Holy holy is He
So merciful
Lion and King
Wonderful Counselor
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Most High God
Holy holy
Prince of Peace
Mighty Redeemer
King of Kings
Most High God
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Take my sins
As far as the east
Is from the west
Purge me
With your precious blood
Shelter me
From the storms
Cover me
With your glory
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
You are so holy
You went to the cross
For me
So holy
You bled for me
So holy
You paid a price
I could not pay
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sad Cafe
Out in the shiny night the rain
was softly falling
The tracks that ran down the boulevard had
all been washed away
Out of the silver light the past came softly calling
And I remember the times we spent
inside the Sad Cafe
Oh it seemed like a holy place
protected by amazing grace
And we would sing right out loud the
things we could not say
We thought we could change this world
with words like "love" and "freedom"
We were part of the lonely crowd
Inside the Sad Cafe
Oh, expecting to fly,
we would meet on that shore in the
sweet by and by
Some of their dreams came true,
some just passed away
And some of the stayed behind
inside the Sad Cafe.
The clouds rolled in and hid that shore
Now that Glory Train, it don't stop here no more
Now I look at the years gone by,
and wonder at the powers that be.
I don't know why fortune smiles on some
and let's the rest go free
Maybe the time has drawn the faces I recall
But things in this life change very slowly,
if they ever change at all
There's no use in asking why,
it just turned out that way
So meet me at midnight baby
inside the Sad Cafe.
Why don't you meet me at midnight baby,
inside the Sad Cafe
song performed by by Eagles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sad Cafe
Out in the shiny night, the rain
Was softly falling
The tracks that ran down the boulevard had
All been washed away
Out of the silver light, the past came softly calling
And I remember the times we spent
Inside the sad cafe
Oh, it seemed like a holy place,
Protected by amazing grace
And we would sing right out loud, the
Things we could not say
We thought we could change this world
With words like love and freedom
We were part of the lonely crowd
Inside the sad cafe
Oh, expecting to fly,
We would meet on that beautiful shore in the
Sweet by and by
Some of their dreams came true,
Some just passed away
And some of the stayed behind
Inside the sad cafe.
The clouds rolled in and hid that shore
Now that glory train, it dont stop here no more
Now I look at the years gone by,
And wonder at the powers that be.
I dont know why fortune smiles on some
And lets the rest go free
Maybe the time has drawn the faces I recall
But things in this life change very slowly,
If they ever change at all
Theres no use in asking why,
It just turned out that way
So meet me at midnight baby
Inside the sad cafe.
Why dont you meet me at midnight baby,
Inside the sad cafe.
song performed by by Eagles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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La Corona
Deign at my hands this crown of prayer and praise,
Weaved in my lone devout melancholy,
Thou which of good hast, yea, art treasury,
All changing unchanged Ancient of days.
But do not with a vile crown of frail bays
Reward my Muse's white sincerity ;
But what Thy thorny crown gain'd, that give me,
A crown of glory, which doth flower always.
The ends crown our works, but Thou crown'st our ends,
For at our ends begins our endless rest.
The first last end, now zealously possess'd,
With a strong sober thirst my soul attends.
'Tis time that heart and voice be lifted high ;
Salvation to all that will is nigh.
poem by John Donne
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The Offering
What will you give me for this heart of mine,
No heart of gold, and yet my dearest treasure?
It has its graces, it can ache and pine,
And beat true time to your sweet voice's measure;
It bears your name, it lives but for your pleasure:
What will you give me for this heart I bring,
That holds my life, my joy, my everything?
How can I ask a price, when all my prayer
Is that, without return, you will but take it,
Feed it with hope, or starve it to despair,
Keep it to play with, mock it, crush it, break it,
And, if your will lies there, at last forsake it?
Its epitaph shall voice its deathless pride:
'She held me in her hands until I died.'
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Birth of Christ
Behold the lamb of God is born this day!
In a manger warm with beddings of hay.
Where beasts inhabit and drop their waste,
fit for none else but those of lowly caste.
Behold the infant Lord whose lowly birth
was marked by celestials in joy and mirth.
In an orchestra in the distant sky,
they played the first carol right there on high.
poem by Joseph C Ogbonna (20 December 2019)
Submitted by Joseph C Ogbonna
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Today... 'The Child Jesus
Led by the Spirit His parents had brought
The Child Jesus into the Temple court
The Temples' to the temple had come
To keep the law and the required custom
The glory of the Lord was there that day
In that building composed of earthly clay
Greater glory than in Solomon's reign
God into His temple had come again
Few expected Him to come in this way
‘Twas not at the request of men that pray
But to fulfil the law and pay the price
A pair of turtle doves as sacrifice
Simeon and Hannah were present there
And in prophecy began to declare
That Child in their arms was the Holy one
Born of God, His only Belovéd Son
As this great moment began to unfold
The world passed by too busy to behold
For this Child Jesus was to change the way
In which man has to come to God today
The veil of the temple was torn in two
It's now possible for man to pass through
That Child in the temple became a man
And died on the cross to fulfil God's plan
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Oh For A Day Of Spring
Oh for a day of Spring,
A day of flowers and folly,
Of birds that pipe and sing
And boyhood's melancholy!
I would not grudge the laughter,
The tears that followed after.
Oh for a day of youth,
A day of strength and passion,
Of words that told the truth
And deeds the truth would fashion!
I would not leave untasted
One glory while it lasted.
Oh for a day of days,
A day with you and pleasure,
Of love in all its ways
And life in all its measure!
Win me that day from sorrow,
And let me die to--morrow.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Fame And Fortune
Sittin' in the back of a limousine, feelin' just like a king
All the girls come runnin' to you, you're the latest thing
Sittin' up there at the top of the charts, lookin' like Mr. Cool
You take all the money, steal their hearts, they'll come runnin' to you
Your fame and your fortune, look what it brought you
All your fame and your fortune, you better take a look around
With your fame and your fortune, careful who you talk to
Or the fame and your fortune, watch it all tumble down, yeah, oh listen now
Now you're lookin' for inspiration, somethin' to say
When you find that it don't come easy, you find them running away
You had it all in the palm of your hand, and let it slip away
You made it big, ooh so big, and then you threw it all away
All your fame and your fortune, look what it brought you
Fame and your fortune, hey you better take another look
At your fame and your fortune, it set you up, then it caught you
Fame and your fortune, surely gonna let you down, hey tell me now
(Solo)
All your fame and your fortune, look what it brought you
Take your fame and your fortune, wait and take a look around
For your fame and your fortune, who do you talk to
'Bout your fame and your fortune, as it all comes tumbling down
Fame and your fortune, fame and your fortune, yes all come tumbling down
Fame and your fortune, fame and your fortune, all comes tumbling down...
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Home of Peace
Trust and treachery, wisdom, folly,
Madness, mirth and melancholy,
Love and hatred, thrift and pillage,
All are housed in every village.
And in such a world’s mixed being,
Where may peace, from ruin fleeing,
Find fit shelter and inherit
All the calm of her own merit?
In a bark of gentle motion
Sailing on the summer ocean?
There worst war the tempest wages,
And the hungry whirlpool rages.
In some lonely new-world bower
Hidden like a forest flower?
There, too, there, to fray the stranger
Stalks the wild-eyed savage, danger!
In some Alpine cot, by fountains
Flowing from snow-shining mountains?
There the avalanches thunder,
Crushing all that lieth under!
In some hermit-tent, pitched lowly
Mid the tombs of prophets holy?
There to harry and annoy her
Roams the infidel destroyer.
In palatial chambers gilded,
Guarded round with towers high-builded?
Change may enter these to-morrow,
And with change may enter sorrow.
Find, O peace, thy home of beauty
In the steadfast heart of duty,
Dwelling ever there, and seeing
God through every phase of being
poem by Charles Harpur
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War-Song Of The Spanish Patriots
YE who burn with glory's flame!
Ye who love the Patriot's fame;
Ye who scorn oppressive might,
Rise! in freedom's cause unite;
Castilians rise!
Hark! Iberia calls, ye brave!
Haste! your bleeding country save:
Be the palm of bright renown,
Be th' unfading laurel-crown,
The hero's prize!
High the crimson banner wave!
Ours be conquest or the grave!
Spirits of our noble sires,
Lo! your sons, with kindred fires,
Unconquer'd glow!
See them once again advance,
Crush the pride of hostile France;
See their hearts, with ardor warm,
See them, with triumphant arm,
Repel the foe!
By the Cid's immortal name,
By Gonsalvo's deathless fame;
By the chiefs of former time,
By the valiant deeds sublime,
Of ancient days;
Brave Castilians! grasp the spear!
Gallant Andalusians, hear!
Glory calls you to the plain,
Future bards, in lofty strain,
Shall sing your praise!
Shades of mighty warriors dead,
Ye who nobly fought and bled;
Ye whose valor could withstand,
The savage Moor's invading band
Untaught to yield;
Bade victorious Charlemagne,
Own the patriot-arms of Spain;
Ye, in later times renown'd,
Ye who fell with laurels crown'd,
On Pavia's field!
Teach our hearts like yours to burn;
Lawless pow'r like you to spurn;
Teach us but like you to wield,
Freedom's lance and Freedom's shield
With daring might:
Tyrant! soon thy reign is o'er,
Thou shalt waste mankind no more;
Boast no more thy thousands slain,
Jena's, or Marengo's plain;
Lo! the sun that gilds thy day,
Soon will veil its parting ray,
In endless night!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: LII
THE SAME CONTINUED
Lame, impotent conclusion to youth's dreams
Vast as all heaven! See, what glory lies
Entangled here in these base stratagems,
What virtue done to death! O glorious sighs,
Sublime beseechings, high cajoleries,
Fond wraths, brave ruptures, all that sometime was
Our daily bread of gods beneath the skies,
How are ye ended, in what utter loss!
Time was, time is, and time is yet to come,
Till even time itself shall have its end.
These were eternal. And behold, a tomb!
Come, let us laugh and eat and drink. God send
What all the world must need one day as we,
Speedy oblivion, rest for memory.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XVI
Gods, what a moral! Yet in vain I jest.
The France which has been, and shall be again,
Is the most serious, and perhaps the best,
Of all the nations which have power with men.
France only of the nations has this plain
Thought in the world, to scorn hypocrisy,
And by this token she shall purge the stain
Of her sins yet, though these as scarlet be.
Let her put off her folly! 'Tis a cloak
Which hides her virtue. Let her foremost stand,
The champion of all necks which feel the yoke,
As once she stood sublime in every land.
Let her forgo her Tonquins, and make good
Her boast to man, of man's high brotherhood!
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Camp Before Philippsburg
Without a bed we now sleep sound
And take our meals upon the ground;
And though the blazing atmosphere
Must dreadful to the eye appear,
The air though roaring cannons rend
While warriors with fierce rage contend,
The thoughtless French drink, laugh, and sing,
And with their mirth the heavens ring;
The walls of Philippsburg shall burn,
And all her towers to ashes turn
By fifty thousand Alexanders,
Who all deserve to be commanders,
Though they receive the paltry pay
Of only four poor sous a day.
Lavish of life, with high delight
I see them rushing to the fight;
They all appear both gay and jolly,
Quite covered o'er with fame and folly.
The Phantom, which we Glory name,
Spurs them to the pursuit of fame;
With threat'ning eye, and front all o'er
Bedusted, marching still before,
She holds a trumpet in her hand
To sound to arms, and cheer the band,
And loudly sings, with voice sonorous,
Catches, which they repeat in chorus.
Oh! people brilliant, gay, and vain,
Who drag with patience glory's chain,
'Tis great, an honorable grave
To seek, Eugene and death to brave.
But what will be your mighty prize?
What from your prowess will arise?
Regret your blood, in vain you spilt it;
At Paris cuckolded, or jilted.
Fame & Fortune
Sittin in the back of a limousine, feelin just like a king
All the girls come runnin to you, youre the latest thing
Sittin up there at the top of the charts, lookin like mr. cool
You take all the money, steal their hearts, theyll come runnin to you
Your fame and your fortune, look what it brought you
All your fame and your fortune, you better take a look around
With your fame and your fortune, careful who you talk to
Or the fame and your fortune, watch it all tumble down, yeah, oh listen now
Now youre lookin for inspiration, somethin to say
When you find that it dont come easy, you find them running away
You had it all in the palm of your hand, and let it slip away
You made it big, ooh so big, and then you threw it all away
All your fame and your fortune, look what it brought you
Fame and your fortune, hey you better take another look
At your fame and your fortune, it set you up, then it caught you
Fame and your fortune, surely gonna let you down, hey tell me now
(solo)
All your fame and your fortune, look what it brought you
Take your fame and your fortune, wait and take a look around
For your fame and your fortune, who do you talk to
bout your fame and your fortune, as it all comes tumbling down
Fame and your fortune, fame and your fortune, yes all come tumbling down
Fame and your fortune, fame and your fortune, all comes tumbling down...
song performed by by Bad Company
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Make The Deal
Time after time you told me it was the truth
Time after time you lied to me through your tooth
How can you sing when everyone writes your song
You think you pull the strings and I get strung along
Ba, ba, ba, ba
So cry, won't you cry
You should have saved that for youth
And does it elevate the stakes
When you try to find the truth
In the real world they make real deals
And it hurts your cause and it clips your heels
And I would not hesitate
To say that I will not be here again
In the real world
It's not my way to slap you in the face
When it seems your way to spell dis with a grace
Where are your friends theyr'll moving on
Why do you get paid when everyone writes your song
In the real world but you make the deals
And it hurts some more till you just can't feel
And I would not hesitate
To say that I will not be here again
Save the real world for the suits in the cells
Who only think they're free when freedom sells
And I would not hesitate
To say that I will not be here again
In the real world
song performed by by Ocean Colour Scene
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Exchange For His Soul!
Long time one whisper'd in his ear--
'Give me my strong, pure soul; behold
'Tis mine to give what men hold dear--
The treasure of red gold.'
'I bribe thee not with crown and throne,
Pale spectres they of kingly pow'r!
I give thee gold--red gold alone
Can crown a king each hour!'
He frown'd, perchance he felt a throe,
Gold-hunger gnawing at his heart--
A passing pang--for, stern and low,
He bade the fiend depart!
Again there came the voice and said:
'Gold for that soul of thine were shame;
Thine be that thing for which have bled
Both Gods and men,--high Fame.
'And in long ages yet to sweep
Their gloom and glory on the day;
When mould'ring kings, forgot, shall sleep
In ashes, dust, and clay:
'Thy name shall, starlike, pulse and burn
On heights most Godlike; and divine,
Immortal bays thy funereal urn
Shall lastingly entwine!'
He sigh'd; perchance he felt the thrill,
The answ'ring pulse to Fame's high call;
But answer made his steadfast will--
'I will not be thy thrall!'
Again there came the voice and cried:
'Dost thou my kingly bribes disdain?
Yet shalt thou barter soul and pride
For things ignobly vain!
'Two shameless eyes--two false, sweet eyes--
A sinful brow of sinless white,
Shall hurl, thy soul from high clear skies
To ME, and Stygian night.
'Beneath the spell of gilded hair,
Thy palms, like sickly weeds, shall die!
God-strong Resolves, a sensuous air
Shall mock and crucify.
'Go to! my thrall at last thou art!
Ere bud to rounded blossom change;
Thou wilt for wanton lips and heart
Most false, thy soul exchange!'
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Today... 'The Consolation of Israel
It was a busy world at Your nativity
People were too busy to even stop and see
As into the temple Your family had come
In obedience to the law and Jewish custom
The glory of the Lord was present there that day
In that building composed of earthly stone and clay
The same glory that appeared in Solomon's reign
Was present as God entered His temple again
Simeon and Anna were also present there
And in prophecy they both began to declare
That Child in their arms was the promised Holy one
Born of God, His One and Only Belovéd Son
In wonder Simeon in his arms held his Lord
And began speaking out loud God's prophetic word
And Anna also join in with him to proclaim
These things happened when to His temple Jesus came
The Holy Spirit entered Simeon that day
Causing him to cry out with prophecy and say
'Behold the Consolation of Israel' he cried
He'd been told he would see Jesus before he died
This Consolation of Israel was to be seen
Just as the prophets of old said it would have been
But just Simeon and Anna saw the real glory
Of this momentous occasion in history
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Glory
Great is the Lord,God Almighty
Great is the Lordon high
the train of His robe fills the temple
and we cry out highest praise
Glory to the risen King
Glory to the son
Glorious son
lift up your heads open the doors
let the King of glory come in
and forever be our God
Holy is the Lord,God Almighty
Hloy is the Lord on High
let all the earth bow before You
and crown You Lord of all
song performed by by Hillsong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poets Message
As you flick through my pages
and surrender to my thoughtful and playful words
Remember I am just another actress
on this very frightful dark stage
As a poet
Its all about display
Its all about the audience
The booing or thunderous clapping
can be substituted
by bestowing me with genuine ratings
Your random comments
will be appreciated
any time, any place, any moment
as I am on a mission
To write a million words
spice up my wordly performance
with some occasional romance
I am on a mission to write
about the people, politicians and musicians
To write about the prostitutes
That roam the redlight district each single minute
I am on a mission to write about me and you
to write about the world
and everything thats brand new or true
Now and then
I may have the writers block
Its easy to laugh
Its easy to mock
But you inspire my imagination
You are all my inspiration
as you flick through my pages
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.co.uk
poem by Sylvia Chidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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