Laughter And Death
THERE is no laughter in the natural world
Of beast or fish or bird, though no sad doubt
Of their futurity to them unfurled
Has dared to check the mirth-compelling shout.
The lion roars his solemn thunder out
To the sleeping woods. The eagle screams her cry.
Even the lark must strain a serious throat
To hurl his blest defiance at the sky.
Fear, anger, jealousy, have found a voice.
Love’s pain or rapture the brute bosoms swell.
Nature has symbols for her nobler joys,
Her nobler sorrows. Who had dared foretell
That only man, by some sad mockery,
Should learn to laugh who learns that he must die?
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Related quotes
Slithering Serpent
Slithering down a slimy slope,
the serpent dared to hope,
for the eagle's nest left an egg,
to satisfy his hunger dread.
This eagle soared with wings held high,
far away through the sky,
for the egg was rotten, stinking vile,
for the snake it would be so satisfying to rile.
This present became a nail too,
for the snake only wanted to avoid the blue,
through the mountains it slithered away,
though its gnawing hunger would not abate,
Writhing in agony it stroke out,
at all the world did it silently shout,
as its wings worry did send
that its journey was almost at an end.
None understood, this serpent had a chance
to be more than just a thief, and enhance
those others around, by being that which they did not fear,
till no longer could those lies it hear,
Its cries filled the world at this last cruel joke,
for the paltry few it had dared to poke.
poem by Kevin Maroney
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The Necessitarian
I know not in Whose hands are laid
To empty upon earth
From unsuspected ambuscade
The very Urns of Mirth;
Who bids the Heavenly Lark arise
And cheer our solemn round--
The Jest beheld with streaming eyes
And grovellings on the ground;
Who joins the flats of Time and Chance
Behind the prey preferred,
And thrones on Shrieking Circumstance
The Sacredly Absurd,
Till Laughter, voiceless through excess,
Waves mute appeal and sore,
Above the midriff's deep distress,
For breath to laugh once more.
No creed hath dared to hail Him Lord,
No raptured choirs proclaim,
And Nature's strenuous Overword
Hath nowhere breathed His Name.
Yet, it must be, on wayside jape,
The selfsame Power bestows
The selfsame power as went to shape
His Planet or His Rose.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Green Woods Of Truagh
In the green woods of Truagh we met without fear,
Your kiss on my lips, and your voice in my ear,
Your tender arms about me, and your eyes glad and clear–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh the days go on wings,
On every brown branch a gladsome bird sings
And the fragrant amber blossom of the honey-suckle swings–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh the bracken stands high,
And wells of spring-water in deep hollows lie,
And the red deer is browsing in the cool shadows nigh–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh no sorrow dared stay,
The lark called me early at dawn o' the day,
And o'er my sleep at night pleasant dreams used to play–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh you wait till I come–
I left home and you for the stranger's far home,
To bring a hoard of yellow gold across the grey foam–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh–if God hears my prayer–
I shall reach you, O true love, my empty hands there,
For little of the yellow gold has fallen to my share–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh–your heart on my own,
And your bright hair in ringlets across my cheek blown
Now where in all the wide, wide world, could greater bliss be known?
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
poem by Anna Johnston MacManus
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Shout It Out
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
Everybody listen to me
Put a smile on your face
Theres no reason to be gloomy
This worlds a wonderful place
So when I say again happy
Shout it out
Yeh, get happy now shout it out
Well there is no doubt youve a lot to shout about
Give a yell life is swell shout it out
Hey there little girl dont be sad
Theres such good times to be had
Count your blessings one by one
Lifes a ball, after all have some fun
I said cmon get happy, shout it out
Yeh, get happy now shout it out
Well there is no doubt youve a lot to shout about
Give a yell life is swell shout it out
Now theres good feeling you can taste
While theres music lifes no waste
While theres great things happening
Theres no end to the joy life can bring
I said cmon get happy, shout it out
Yeh, get happy now shout it out
Well there is no doubt youve a lot to shout about
Give a yell life is swell shout it out
As long as theres somebody you can love
As long as bright stars shine above
Youve got no reason to be blue
Think what it means when all your dreams come true
I said cmon get happy, shout it out
Yeh, get happy now shout it out
Well there is no doubt youve a lot to shout about
Give a yell life is swell shout it out
I said now there is no doubt youve a lot to shout about
Give a yell life is swell shout it out
There is no doubt youve a lot to shout about
Give a yell life is swell shout it out
Shout it out
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Maid Of Orleans
Humanity's bright image to impair.
Scorn laid thee prostrate in the deepest dust;
Wit wages ceaseless war on all that's fair,--
In angel and in God it puts no trust;
The bosom's treasures it would make its prey,--
Besieges fancy,--dims e'en faith's pure ray.
Yet issuing like thyself from humble line,
Like thee a gentle shepherdess is she--
Sweet poesy affords her rights divine,
And to the stars eternal soars with thee.
Around thy brow a glory she hath thrown;
The heart 'twas formed thee,--ever thou'lt live on!
The world delights whate'er is bright to stain,
And in the dust to lay the glorious low;
Yet fear not! noble bosoms still remain,
That for the lofty, for the radiant glow
Let Momus serve to fill the booth with mirth;
A nobler mind loves forms of nobler worth.
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Summer Storm
The panther wind
Leaps out of the night,
The snake of lightning
Is twisting and white,
The lion of thunder
Roars -- and we
Sit still and content
Under a tree --
We have met fate together
And love and pain,
Why should we fear
The wrath of the rain!
poem by Sara Teasdale
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The Woods Wanderer
Day after day, I wander'd on alone—
The stricken heart is fearless; and the woods,
Amidst whose far-stretch'd depths a solemn moan
Of winds was ever sounding, and whose floods,
Pour'd ‘midst unbroken solitudes, had ceased
To waken mine to terror. I had learn'd,
E'en when no moon-beam the pale night clouds fleeced,
To thread their trackless mazes, while I turn'd
For guidance to the stars that high above me burn'd.
They who have never seen the broad blue sky,
Save through the smoke-dimm'd air of crowded streets,
Can never know how truly gloriously
It bendeth o'er the wilderness, and meets
The tall brows of the mountains. It must be
The veriest clod that wears a human form,
Who round him those majestic forms could see,
And o'er his head the eagle and the storm,
Nor feel a nobler pulse within his bosom warm.
I had laid down to slumber—but there came
A sound that night upon the fitful wind,
That kept me waking. No electric flame
Flash'd o'er the heavens—yet my thoughts could find
No sound more like to it, than the low growl
Of worn-out thunder; wrapt in thought I lay,
With nature's glory telling to my soul
Of God's own presence, till the coming day
O'er the fair orient stole, to light me on my way.
I stood, at sunrise, where Lake Erie's wave
Caught on its foamy crest the rosy light;
All round was solitude and silence, save
The voice of nature's joy. Against the bright
And pearly sky, a thin blue smoke-curl rose
From the far shore, and floated on the air,
And the slant sunbeam might to view disclose
One distant piroque that its waters bare;
All else was lone and wild, as it was lovely, there.
Still sent that deep sound forth its solemn tone,
Louder and louder, as I onward fared,
Northward where Niagara led me on,
O'er tangled brake, and green, and flower-strewn sward.
At length I reached the spot—and such a sight!
Even now the wild blood rushes through my brain,
And my heart reels with faintness, as the light
Of memory restores that scene again,
And paints it to my view as I beheld it then.
Broad, dark, and deep, the river hurried on,
Pouring the volume of its mighty flood
Right to the yawning steep!—no pause—down—down
The gather'd sea was hurl'd! half stunn'd I stood
Upon the shaken earth, and almost wept
With awe and fear and admiration, wild
And passionate;—like clouds on high were swept
In spray the shatter'd waves; while bending mild,
Over the turbulent gulf, a gorgeous rainbow smiled.
The sun went down on that vast solitude,—
And underneath the solemn stars, alone
With God, and his stupendous works, I stood;
Where, since their first creation, haply none
Save the rude Indian, e'er had trod or gazed
On that magnificence! to earth I bent
My humbled brow, yet with a soul upraised,
And conscious of a nobler being, bent
By the felt presence of the great Omnipotent.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Time
There is no moment but whose flight doth bring
Bright clouds and fluttering leaves to deck my bower;
And I within like some sweet bird must sing
To tell the story of the passing hour;
For time has secrets that no bird has sung,
Nor changing leaf with changing season told;
They wait the utterance of some nobler tongue
Like that which spoke in prophet tones of old;
Then day and night, and month and year shall tell
The tale that speaks but faint from bird and bough;
In spirit-songs their praise shall upward swell
Nor longer pass heaven's gate unheard as now,
But cause e'en angels' ears to catch the strain,
And send it back to earth in joy again.
poem by Jones Very
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Fear of a loss
Ring, ring
That was phone,
Mum answered
In a moment
Lost in time
my mum was gone
Granny on the couch
Nervous, anxious, fearful
A Quiet, deathly silence
Filled the emptiness
We were told to pray
I dared not ask why
Praying, wondering, still dared not ask
Then the memory, gripping
Daddy hadn’t come home that day
Fearing the unknown
Dared not question
Fear of hearing
Fear of knowing
Fear of loss
Ring, ring
Granny answered,
Questions, silence, gripped by fear
Bravely, she spoke what we dared not ask
What we feared we would hear
Daddy was gone
We lost him
In the silence of this night
He passed on, quietly
As he had passed through this life
Through our lives
The silence continued
Time had stopped
The heavy quietness
The ominous silence
Overwhelmed my senses
Fear
Loss
My fear of loss
No longer a fear
A reality now
poem by Alessandra Maraschin
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I Am One Of Many Who Loves Nature
I am one of many who loves Nature her beauty is all around me
And every day in Nature's World new wonders I'm privileged to see
Of Nature we never stop learning we learn from her every day
Though her secrets and they are many from us she has hidden away
The only immortal I know of her presence is on every shore
All of her life forms their life spans in time is not long but she will live forever more
We depend on her for our survival yet we do not treat her that well
By our polluting and destruction of natural habitat we are creating our own earthly hell
One can only marvel at Nature each species of bird has it's own song to sing
And in the groves and woods and hedgerows they build homes for their young in Spring
The fish of lakes, streams and rivers, the mammals of sea and of land
Her billions of flying and ground insects of sky and of soil and of sand
Of Nature we never stop learning till to the scythe of her Reaper we'll fall
And in a World of many great forces she is the greatest of all.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Aesop
HE sat among the woods; he heard
The sylvan merriment; he saw
The pranks of butterfly and bird,
The humors of the ape, the daw.
And in the lion or the frog,—
In all the life of moor and fen,—
In ass and peacock, stork and dog,
He read similitudes of men.
“Of these, from those,” he cried, “we come,
Our hearts, our brains descend from these.”
And, lo! the Beasts no more were dumb,
But answered out of brakes and trees:
“Not ours,” they cried; “Degenerate,
If ours at all,” they cried again,
“Ye fools, who war with God and Fate,
Who strive and toil; strange race of men.
“For we are neither bond nor free,
For we have neither slaves nor kings;
But near to Nature’s heart are we,
And conscious of her secret things.
“Content are we to fall asleep,
And well content to wake no more;
We do not laugh, we do not weep,
Nor look behind us and before:
“But were there cause for moan or mirth,
’T is we, not you, should sigh or scorn,
Oh, latest children of the Earth,
Most childish children Earth has born.”
They spoke, but that misshapen slave
Told never of the thing he heard,
And unto men their portraits gave,
In likenesses of beast and bird!
poem by Andrew Lang
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I cry...sometimes
Sometimes I cry
A cry so bitter and sweet
Sometimes I hide
I hide to shut out the world
Sometimes I smile
A smile to get through the pain
Sometimes I laugh
I laugh for all the world to see
Sometimes I dance
I dance just to let go
Sometimes I sing
A song just for you and me
Sometimes I see
A world so cruel and brute
Sometimes I sense
A feeling oh so pure and immense
Sometimes I hear
Violance and laughter together as one
Sometimes I fear
One you'll be gone
But do you really know how I feel? ?
Sometimes I feel as though the world stops
and spins madly on
Sometimes I feel like letting everything drop
And run toward you
poem by Nadia J. Pamphil
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Cleveland's Song
Farewell! Farewell! the voice you hear,
Has left its last soft tone with you,-
Its next must join the seaward cheer,
And shout among the shouting crew.
The accents which I scarce could form
Beneath your frown's controlling check,
Must give the word, above the storm,
To cut the mast, and clear the wreck.
The timid eye I dared not raise,-
The hand, that shook when press'd to thine,
Must point the guns upon the chase-
Must bid the deadly cutlass shine.
To all I love, or hope, or fear,-
Honour, or own, a long adieu!
To all that life has soft and dear,
Farewell! save memory of you!
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Th3 Fight In M3
Lost
Confused
Forgotten
Words that explain my life
Hate
Rage
Anger
Words that explain how I feel
But there are no words to explain the pain goes threw inside of me
Like a war is going on inside of me
Every day I feel as if I am fading away
No matter how far I run
I never could escape the fear
So I hold it in
All the anger that I hold in during the day
Unleashes during the night in my sleep
Sometimes I wish I just took my anger out on those who causes it
But then I hold my self back
Like a beast tied to unbreakable chain
But when I sleep
I do more fighting then sleeping
Like the anger just wants to hunt me
And the more I hold it in the more it feels like its going to unleash stronger
Maybe some day the anger, the fear and the pain will all unleash
poem by Stephen Merced
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Did Not
'Twas a new feeling - something more
Than we had dared to own before,
Which then we hid not;
We saw it in each other's eye,
And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,
To speak, but did not.
She felt my lips' impassioned touch -
'Twas the first time I dared so much,
And yet she chid not;
But whispered o'er my burning brow,
'Oh, do you doubt I love you now?'
Sweet soul! I did not.
Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,
I pressed it closer, closer still,
Though gently bid not;
Till - oh! the world hath seldom heard
Of lovers, who so nearly erred,
And yet, who did not.
poem by Thomas Moore
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You Hear Nature's Voice
You hear Nature's voice in the river that ever flows on towards the sea
A voice destined to live forever that has lived for untold centuries
From the foothills of the high country it babbles downhill night and day
By groves and by ditches and hedgerows to saltwater it winds it's way.
You hear Nature's voice in her birdsong their music carrying in the breeze
The sounds that the freshening winds make rustling in the leaves of the trees
Some of the happier sounds of Nature though to Nature there's another side
When Nature she shouts out her anger all others from her seek a safe place to hide.
When Nature she grows very angry the fear of the World is in her cry
She shakes the Earth flattens great buildings she roars and her lightning flashes in the sky
She crackles when her forests burn leaving blackness and smoke everywhere
With the power of Nature in a fury none other can hope to compare.
You hear Nature's voice in all Seasons Winter, Spring and Summer and Fall
And you hear Nature's voice in the night-time when her nocturnal creatures do call
Nature's voice will live on forever 'tis something not destined to die
As Nature herself does not have a time span as such are for mortals such as I.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Merry Autumn
IT's all a farce, — these tales they tell
About the breezes sighing,
And moans astir o'er field and dell,
Because the year is dying.
Such principles are most absurd, —
I care not who first taught 'em;
There's nothing known to beast or bird
To make a solemn autumn.
In solemn times, when grief holds sway
With countenance distressing,
You'll note the more of black and gray
Will then be used in dressing.
Now purple tints are all around;
The sky is blue and mellow;
And e'en the grasses turn the ground
From modest green to yellow.
The seed burrs all with laughter crack
On featherweed and jimson;
And leaves that should be dressed in black
Are all decked out in crimson.
A butterfly goes winging by;
A singing bird comes after;
And Nature, all from earth to sky,
Is bubbling o'er with laughter.
The ripples wimple on the rills,
Like sparkling little lasses;
The sunlight runs along the hills,
And laughs among the grasses.
The earth is just so full of fun
It really can't contain it;
And streams of mirth so freely run
The heavens seem to rain it.
Don't talk to me of solemn days
In autumn's time of splendor,
Because the sun shows fewer rays,
And these grow slant and slender.
Why, it's the climax of the year,—
The highest time of living!—
Till naturally its bursting cheer
Just melts into thanksgiving.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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The Sea And The Man
You will not tame this sea
either by humility or rapture.
But you can laugh
in its face.
Laughter
was invented by those
who live briefly
as a burst of laughter.
The eternal sea
will never learn to laugh.
Translated from the Polish by Czeslaw Milosz and Leonard Nathan
Anonymous Submission
poem by Anna Swirszczynska
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Eyes of Death
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes of Death
I killed for those eyes to look into mine
Into my eyes of pain and guilt
I dared to walk into your path
I dared to take your hand into mine
And I dared to tell you my darkest secret
I stared into your Eyes of Death
And I lost my soul to them
When I looked into your Eyes of Death.
To this day, I am still dead
To this day, I can no longer live in the mortal world
To this day, we shall not die of fire, water, or love,
But of our Eyes of Death that rein our souls
I stare into your Eyes of Death and I cringe at the sight
I look into your Eyes of Death and I am no longer alive
I looked into your Eyes of Death
And I died again, before I could run from them
For I cannot stand to be around you to this very day again
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes…of Death
poem by Jade DragonHeart
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Singing Birds Are Endangered Species!
Singing bird's songs
enjoyed,
wonderful melody, wonderful words,
Rhapsodical Sometimes,
More often romantic!
A power hungry,
another powerful
both listen a while,
They want the bird to sing for them!
Now the bird has to stop singing,
Or should think of flying far away!
Power hungry will kill
or powerful will,
Singing bird ability of throat
Is its own enemy,
Two hands are ready to squeeze,
Two blades ready to cut,
Singing bird's throat often
squeezed,
Several died,
not even found in history,
they fear even that bird's story!
For it sings only truth,
Singing birds throat is cut,
Because it can't keep its mouth shut!
Poor bird! Its talent,
gifted voice became
its own enemy,
Not even they are listed
Though singing birds are endangered species!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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