Friends
NOW must I these three praise --
Three women that have wrought
What joy is in my days:
One because no thought,
Nor those unpassing cares,
No, not in these fifteen
Many-times-troubled years,
Could ever come between
Mind and delighted mind;
And one because her hand
Had strength that could unbind
What none can understand,
What none can have and thrive,
Youth's dreamy load, till she
So changed me that I live
Labouring in ecstasy.
And what of her that took
All till my youth was gone
With scarce a pitying look?
How could I praise that one?
When day begins to break
I count my good and bad,
Being wakeful for her sake,
Remembering what she had,
What eagle look still shows,
While up from my heart's root
So great a sweetness flows
I shake from head to foot.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Related quotes
These Are The Days
Ah ah
Heres a song
About living in the past
If it was so good then
How come it didnt last?
If it helps you
Ill put it in a phrase
Those were the times
But these are the days
These are the days
These are the days
These are the days
These are the days
These are the days
The times youre smiling back on
Had that great sitcom
It hardly compensated
For the terror of the bomb
Let me help
cause youre looking through a haze
Those were the times
These are the days
These are the days
Hey hey hey
These are the days
Can you hear me now?
These are the days
Look around look around look around
These are the days
These are the days
Hey hey live today
These are the days
Its time to put the past away
These are the days
The more you do the more you say
These are the days
The more I need to get away
Youre longing for a time
There never was
Now tell me the truth
Youre looking for the reason
Its because
Youre fighting for youth
But if I have to listen any more
To fantasy talk
Or any other bug you have
Im leaving
Now Im not saying
Everything is really great
Hey hey hey
After sixteen years
Of legalised class hate
Why waste time
Looking back for things to praise?
Those were the times huh
But these are the days
These are the days
Looking back in history
These are the days
Time to get contempory
These are the days
The past is not the place to be
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Pageant of Elizabeth
Written for "The Pageant of Parliament," 1934
Like Princes crowned they bore them--
Like Demi-Gods they wrought,
When the New World lay before them
In headlong fact and thought.
Fate and their foemen proved them
Above all meed of praise,
And Gloriana loved them,
And Shakespeare wrote them plays!
. . . . . . .
Now Valour, Youth, and Life's delight break forth
In flames of wondrous deed, and thought sublime---
Lightly to mould new worlds or lightly loose
Words that shall shake and shape all after-time!
Giants with giants, wits with wits engage,
And England-England-England takes the breath
Of morning, body and soul, till the great Age
Fulfills in one great chord:--Elizabeth!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Sweetest Days Ever Known
Sitting in McDonald's
Watching my youngest / last
Frolic in the 'playland'.
I consume coffee, she drinks in simple joy.
Knowing full well
How so soon and suddenly
These days will sadly be all through;
I've seen the days
Quickly come and go,
I see adulthood, like a lion, charging us...
A repeat of when my first / oldest
Stopped playing in those children's
Care-free days and ways.
- Though I must confess
Whenever she still calls me 'daddy'
My heart says a thank you to God.
(Perhaps now, in some sense,
I begin to see, to understand
How He feels toward us.)
I watch her play,
Laugh and dance;
I love her sweetness,
Innocence and unconditional spirit...
With praise I give God thanks for them both.
And for the wonderful times we've had,
The times of youth, and the times beyond,
The past, present, and future.
Still, I cannot help but wish
These sweet, wonder-filled, loving days
Of beautiful youth would linger on,
And last a while longer,
Than they have.
I am so grateful for what has been,
And what yet shall be;
Lord, be with my children,
Your children, eternally. Amen.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Lord, I give you all my praise. (To the tune of down at the cross)
O Lord, My God, I give you all my praise
You have cared for me all my days
You have comfort and strengthen me
Lord, I give you all my praise.
Yes, God has been good to me.
God has been so good to me.
Yes, God has been good to me.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
O’ Lord, My God, to you I lift my hand
You will bless me right where I stand
You will guide me along the way
Lord, I give you all my praise.
Yes, God has been good to me.
God has been so good to me.
Yes God has been good to me.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
O Lord My God to you I sing my praise
I surrender and beg for your grace
Please O’ Lord, forgive all my sins.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
Yes, God has been good to me.
God has been so good to me.
Yes God has been good to me.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
O Lord, my God I need your help today
Please send some aid quickly my way
Problems are so bad I can hardly pray
Lord, I give you all my praise.
Yes, God has been good to me.
God has been so good to me.
Yes, God has been good to me.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
O Lord, My God, thanks for all you have done
You have empowered me to overcome
Now, I can claim my battle as won
Lord, I give you all my praise.
Yes God has been good to me.
God has been so good me.
Yes God has been good to me.
Lord, I give you all my praise.
poem by Reginald Walker
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Too Much On My Mind
Theres too much on my mind,
Theres too much on my mind,
And I cant sleep at night thinking about it.
Im thinking of the time,
Theres too much on my mind,
It seems theres more to life than just to live it.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can say.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can do
About it,
About it.
My thought just weigh me down,
And drag me to the ground,
And shake my head till theres no more life in me.
Its ruining my brain,
Ill never be the same,
My poor demented mind is slowly going.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can say.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can do
About it,
About it.
Theres too much on my mind.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm CL.
Praise ye the Lord, your Songs address
To praise His Holynes:
O praise Him in His pow'rs extent,
Who rules the firmament.
Praise Him for all His acts of might,
Our wonder which invite:
In praises due His greatness tell,
Which all things doth excell.
Praise Him with Trumpets lofty sound,
With Cornets shake the ground:
His praise the Psaltery inspire,
With the melodious Lyre.
Praise him with Timbrells, and advance
His honour in the Dance.
Praise Him with Organs, Violls, Flutes,
And the well-stringed Lutes.
With Cymbals loud Him magnify,
Praise Him on Cymbals high:
Let every creature, that hath breath,
His Maker praise till death.
poem by Henry King
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Sonnet- Life Has Both Joys And Sorrows
Men praise the Rose for exquisite beauty,
And praise the flower too for its great smell;
None care for thorns(changed leaves) doing duty,
Protecting flowers from wild beasts so well.
Men praise the River for quenching their thirst;
Who cares about the clouds that bring the Rain?
Much water comes from melting snows too first;
Most water comes from sea again, again.
Men praise their leaders for the great things done;
Who cares about the Almighty’s great role?
And men call God, the Moon, the Sky, the Sun!
Forgetting God who made earth, pole to pole.
All things God made have purpose good and bad;
Life’s woes alone should not make our hearts sad.
poem by John Celes
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Age considers, youth ventures
Age considers, youth ventures
Age visualizes, youth dreams
Age makes theories, youth experiments
Age loves, youth longs
Age sees people, youth sees places
Age knows belongings, youth discovers them
Age pains to gain, youth gains to others' pain
Age has heart, youth has mind
Age is thoughtful, youth is tactful
Age ponders, youth wonders
Age recounts, youth counts
Age is experienced, youth is in experience
Age is cautious, youth dashes
Age floats, youth swims
Age lives, youth still making a living
Age is in touch with termination, youth with determination
Age is confident, youth is competent
Age adds years to living, youth adds life to living
Age is lost in past, youth is drowned in future
Age is grown, youth is crown
Ageless is youth, youthless is age
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Praise Ye the Triune God
Praise ye the Father! For his loving-kindness,
Tenderly cares he for his erring children;
Praise him, ye angels, praise him in the heavens,
Praise ye Jehovah!
Praise ye the Spirit! Great is his compassion,
Graciously cares he for his chosen people;
Young men and maidens, ye old men and children,
Praise ye the Savior!
Praise ye the Spirit! Comforter of Israel,
Sent of the Father and the Son to bless us;
Praise ye the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
Praise ye the triune God!
poem by Elizabeth Rundle Charles (1858)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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P r a i s e
Whatever that you think you lack – give that! ’ –
this saying, heard, lodged in my mind a space;
like seed that hides in earth – yet not inert:
its hidden clock an instrument of grace;
the mind, the soil, that meanwhile, does not know:
it neither knows what lies in its embrace,
nor its own precious nutrients which grow
this seed; nor sees the Sower, nor His grace –
until one day, when in some Spring of light,
I realised: I, meanly, denied – praise:
the praise of human beings in my sight;
and thus, the praise of that One source of praise..
so sought occasion, each and All to praise;
now Praise, with golden hand, seeds all my days.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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0186 Praise
'Whatever that you think you lack - give that! ' -
this saying, heard, lodged in my mind a space;
like seed that seems inert - yet, not inert;
its hidden clock an instrument of grace;
the mind, that soil which meanwhile does not know:
it neither knows what lies in its embrace,
nor its own precious nutrients which grow
that seed; nor knows the Sower; nor His grace -
until the day that in some Spring of light,
I realised: I, meanly, denied - praise:
the praise of human beings in my sight;
and thus, the praise of that one source of praise.
so sought occasion, each and All to praise;
now Praise, with golden hand, seeds all my days.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Pinch
i look at my face wrinkles are being drawn like a plow making furroughs
on the ricefield,
wrinkles, i am getting wrinkles,
i look at my arms and i touch it, they are loose now, like some clothes
hanging loosely in my body, emaciated by lack of nutrition,
i look at my hear, i open it like a pettry cash box, i see some scars
and some loose coins for change, i like to break it open and leave
it that way, i am saddened by this
emptiness, this pain,
i stand now in the mirror with a picture on hand of my youth
i look many times finding how
time drenched me with old age, my hands beginning to tremble my
mind forgetting more and more of those memories of my youth,
i refresh myself, i get this clip and pinch myself, i remember
i am still alive, and that is luck enough, a friend of mine just died today,
cardian arrest,
and i am trying to do some little thinking, what if i will be next?
i am finite, i pinch myself some more, some more, some more.....
till i turn blue, till i bleed, who cares?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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To The Memory Of Raisley Calvert
CALVERT! it must not be unheard by them
Who may respect my name, that I to thee
Owed many years of early liberty.
This care was thine when sickness did condemn
Thy youth to hopeless wasting, root and stem--
That I, if frugal and severe, might stray
Where'er I liked; and finally array
My temples with the Muse's diadem.
Hence, if in freedom I have loved the truth;
If there be aught of pure, or good, or great,
In my past verse; or shall be, in the lays
Of higher mood, which now I meditate;--
It gladdens me, O worthy, short-lived, Youth!
To think how much of this will be thy praise.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Sometimes When We Touch
(barry mann, dan hill)
You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
Id rather hurt you honestly
Than mislead you with a lie
And who am I to judge you
In what you say or do
Im only just beginning
To see the real you
And sometimes when we touch
The honestys too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I want to hold you till I die
Till we both break down and cry
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides
Romance and all its strategy
Leaves me battling with my pride
But through all the insecurity
Some tenderness survives
Im just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prize fighter
Still trapped within my youth
And sometimes when we touch
The honestys too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I want to hold you till I die
Till we both break down and cry
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides
At times Id like to break you
And drive you to your knees
At times Id like to break through
And hold you endlessly
At times I understand you
And I know how hard you try
I watched while love commands you
And Ive watched love pass you by
At times I think were drifters
Still searching for a friend
A brother or a sister
But then the passion flares again
And sometimes when we touch
The honestys too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I want to hold ya till I die
Till we both break down and cry
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides
Subsides
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Youth In Embers
My mirror is troubled, tired of lying to me
My youth is gone, life torn and tattered no longer to be
Like quenching flames that dance suffocating in the rain
Just the agony, pain and regrets of past years reflect again
Is there a way I thought to throw my ashen cloak
And start my life anew under different clock
Yet the flames of my youth shall never leap and burn
Time flows on me so cruelly with no return
So many winters have besieged my life, quizzes out of grace
And dug deep trenches in my face
My skin is dying, dry, dots and spots, brittle and blasted away
Youth proud of lusty days, against now deep-sunken eyes of decay
For years I stopped birthdays and calendar count to tell my time
As the brave day sinks into a hideous foul night
I watch the shy violet behind a rock that year by year renews its prime
My youth in embers, like ashes all bleak white
A Refusal to Mourn (as His Father Lay Dying)
You want the return of the status quo
But I'm afraid, my friend, that the answer's 'no',
The days of your youth will never return
Though your heart may ache and your spirit yearn -
It's a bitter cup that you'll have to drink
And it won't go away, whatever you think,
The story's over and the book has ended
And your broken heart will never be mended,
So say goodbye to the Good Old Days
But let your deepest sorrow be transformed to praise,
Praise for the times when you were glad
And gratitude for the love you had,
Not a song of resentment or a hapless curse
Must stain the integrity of your verse,
Whatever the outcome, you HAVE to sing,
So SMILE and accept what the future will bring!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Budha is laughing
You praise my strength,
my fun for the war, ...
the huge wound in
my head yet to heal....
You praise my strength
my son is my power
his muscle on his arm
burning for war
We crushed smiling Buddha
with version of one eye,
utterly without scent..
the eye simply for mind,
You raped my faith
and forced for purdha..
you raped my sister,
for the sake of your faith
you made this land
and famine was the end,
any more than gray old horse
we meet in the holy place
poem by Thampi KEE
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Man Carrying Bale
The tough hand closes gently on the load;
Out of the mind, a voice
Calls 'Lift!' and the arms, remembering well their work,
Lengthen and pause for help.
Then a slow ripple flows from head to foot
While all the muscles call to one another:
'Lift! 'and the bulging bale
Floats like a butterfly in June.
So moved the earliest carrier of bales,
And the same watchful sun
Glowed through his body feeding it with light.
So will the last one move,
And halt, and dip his head, and lay his load
Down, and the muscles will relax and tremble.
Earth, you designed your man
Beautiful both in labour and repose.
poem by Harold Monro
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After All Is Said And Done
I thought that you were working late
But that was when I made my first mistake
As you walk into the hall and sort all the clothes upon the floor
It was too late
She said she didn't understand
And then she cried she took the ring from off her hand
Then I knew it was over as she turned to me and said
Our love is dead
After all is said and done
Knowing I'll be only one
Till I head it out going out of the way
All alone under the sun
Baby come tomorrow
Are we moving on?
I know what I did was wrong
But you don't know what you've got until it's gone
If there were something I could say to you to make you change your mind
You know I'll try
After all is said and done
Knowing I'll be only one
Till I head it out going out of the way
All alone under the sun
Baby come tomorrow
I'm not to live without you
Baby come tomorrow
Cause all I got is here with now
But all I wanna live without
After all is said and done
Knowing I'll be only one
Till I head it out going out of the way
All alone under the sun
Baby come tomorrow
Baby come tomorrow
Baby come tomorrow
Are we moving on?
song performed by by BBMak from Into Your Head
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Washington
Oh, hero of our younger race!
Great builder of a temple new!
Ruler, who sought no lordly place!
Warrior who sheathed the sword he drew!
Lover of men, who saw afar
A world unmarred by want or war,
Who knew the path, and yet forbore
To tread, till all men should implore;
Who saw the light, and led the way
Where the gray world might greet the day;
Father and leader, prophet sure,
Whose will in vast works shall endure,
How shall we praise him on this day of days,
Great son of fame who has no need of praise?
How shall we praise him? Open wide the -
Of heroes moves o’er unresounding floors
Men whose brawned arms upraised these colors high
And reared the towers that vanish in the sky,-
The strong who, having wrought, can never, never die.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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