The Countess Cathleen In Paradise
ALL the heavy days are over;
Leave the body's coloured pride
Underneath the grass and clover,
With the feet laid side by side.
Bathed in flaming founts of duty
She'll not ask a haughty dress;
Carry all that mournful beauty
To the scented oaken press.
Did the kiss of Mother Mary
Put that music in her face?
Yet she goes with footstep wary,
Full of earth's old timid grace.
'Mong the feet of angels seven
What a dancer glimmering!
All the heavens bow down to Heaven,
Flame to flame and wing to wing.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Leave The Body
Leave the body's coloured pride
Underneath the bed of dreams,
This dream needs a kiss from duty.
Still white and black is the face
With the feet of gold and silver,
For I see the smell and the sight
Together, together, and together.
poem by Naveed Akram
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To Some I Have Talked With By The Fire
WHILE I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes,
My heart would brim with dreams about the times
When we bent down above the fading coals
And talked of the dark folk who live in souls
Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees;
And of the wayward twilight companies
Who sigh with mingled sorrow and content,
Because their blossoming dreams have never bent
Under the fruit of evil and of good:
And of the embattled flaming multitude
Who rise, wing above wing, flame above flame,
And, like a storm, cry the Ineffable Name,
And with the clashing of their sword-blades make
A rapturous music, till the morning break
And the white hush end all but the loud beat
Of their long wings, the flash of their white feet.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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To Mary In Summer
LAY your head here, Mary,
Lay your head here,
While the blown grass, Mary,
With timid voice and wary,
Sings in your ear:—
The grass which round us, Mary,
Shuts like a nest;
By your dear limbs, dear Mary,
Lighter than limbs of Faery,
Daintily press'd.
Back with it all though, Mary,
Back and aside;
The wind comes this way, Mary,
And here the trees are airy
And the skies are wide.
What do your eyes fear, Mary,
So grave and soft?
I love to see them, Mary,
In whimsical vagary
Lifted aloft.
Mary, Mary, Mary,
Laugh in my face:
You know now, my own Mary,
No eyes can laugh so rarely
Or grant such grace.
Your cheek is pale now, Mary,
And red, by turns.
Why should the hand be chary
Of that to give which, Mary,
The heart so yearns?
Give me your hand, ah Mary,
Give me your hand:
In city or in prairie
There is none kinder, Mary,
From land to land.
Your lips to my lips, Mary,
Your lips to mine:
High up in Hebe's dairy
No milk so sweet, my Mary,
On earth no wine.
Lay your head here, Mary,
Lay your head here;
While my heart now, Mary,
The pleasant tune to vary,
Beats in your ear.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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It Came Upon A Midnight Clear
It came upon the midnight clear, that glorious song of old
From angels bending near the earth to touch their harps of gold
Peace on the earth, goodwill to men, from heavens all gracious king
The world in solemn stillness lay to hear the angels sing
Still through the cloven skies they come with peaceful wings unfurl
And still their heavenly music floats, oer all the weary world.
Above its sad and lowly plains they bend on hovering wing
And ever oer its babel sounds the blessed angels sing
O ye, beneath lifes crushing load, whose forms are bending low
Who toil along the climbing way with painful steps and slow
Look now for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing
O rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing
For lo the days are hastening on, by prophets seen of old
When with the ever circling years shall come the time foretold
When the new heaven and earth shall own the prince of peace their king
And the whole world send back the song which now the angels sing
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark End Of The Street
(Harold Adamson, Jimmie McHugh)
Comin' in on a wing and a prayer
Comin' in on a wing and a prayer
With our one motor gone
We can still carry on
Comin' in on a wing and a prayer
What a show, what a fight
Boys, we really hit our target for tonight
How we sing as we limp through the air
Look below, there's our field over there
With our one motor gone
We can still carry on
Comin' in on a wing and a prayer
Comin' in on a wing and a prayer
Comin' in on a wing and a prayer
With our full crew on board
And our trust in the Lord
We're comin' in on a wing and a prayer
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Bird and flower upon the tree
A bird and flower upon the tree,
Sweet peony and oriole,
Each of them a perfect soul,
Song and sweetness manifest
The bird and flower we love the best
Side by side on the tall tree.
'Flower who art sunlight and fire, flower who art perfume and joy,
Sweetest of sweet,
Ah for the gift withheld!
Ah for the given gift's alloy!
Why must thy spirit exhale only in beauty and breath?
Ah for the voice thou hast not! I by thy side on the tree,
Telling the world of love, pain, and all raptures that be,
Raptures of laughter and life, raptures of tears and death,
Singing my heart to heaven, singing to earth at my feet;
Silence in thee.'
'Bird who art dew-drops and flame, bird who art rapture and song,
Sweetest of sweet,
Lo there's a voice part mine, songs that to me too belong,
Songs that grew of my growth, voice that has breathed my breath.
Bird that while I sit mute singest beside on the tree,
Hast thou ever a song taking no perfume of me?
Give forth my sweetness in song; bird, thou art singing for both,
Singing our hearts to heaven, singing to earth at our feet;
My voice in thee.'
On the tree-top side by side,
Sweet oriole and peony;
Music rings through earth and sky,
Sweet and sweet in sweetness lost
The flower and bird we love the most,
On the tree-top side by side.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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The Two Angels
God called the nearest angels who dwell with Him above:
The tenderest one was Pity, the dearest one was Love.
'Arise,' He said, 'my angels! a wail of woe and sin
Steals through the gates of heaven, and saddens all within.
'My harps take up the mournful strain that from a lost world swells,
The smoke of torment clouds the light and blights the asphodels.
'Fly downward to that under world, and on its souls of pain,
Let Love drop smiles like sunshine, and Pity tears like rain!'
Two faces bowed before the Throne, veiled in their golden hair;
Four white wings lessened swiftly down the dark abyss of air.
The way was strange, the flight was long; at last the angels came
Where swung the lost and nether world, red-wrapped in rayless flame.
There Pity, shuddering, wept; but Love, with faith too strong for fear,
Took heart from God's almightiness and smiled a smile of cheer.
And lo! that tear of Pity quenched the flame whereon it fell,
And, with the sunshine of that smile, hope entered into hell!
Two unveiled faces full of joy looked upward to the Throne,
Four white wings folded at the feet of Him who sat thereon!
And deeper than the sound of seas, more soft than falling flake,
Amidst the hush of wing and song the Voice Eternal spake:
'Welcome, my angels! ye have brought a holier joy to heaven;
Henceforth its sweetest song shall be the song of sin forgiven!'
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Commemoration
When first your glory shone upon my face
My body kindled to a mighty flame,
And burnt you yielding in my hot embrace
Until you swooned to love, breathing my name.
And wonder came and filled our night of sleep,
Like a new comet crimsoning the sky;
And stillness like the stillness of the deep
Suspended lay as an unuttered sigh.
I never again shall feel your warm heart flushed,
Panting with passion, naked unto mine,
Until the throbbing world around is hushed
To quiet worship at our scented shrine.
Nor will your glory seek my swarthy face,
To kindle and to change my jaded frame
Into a miracle of godlike grace,
Transfigured, bathed in your immortal flame.
poem by Claude McKay
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Sonnet: Prayer to Mother Mary
The Virgin Mother wearing stars for crown,
As angels sing a choir around her head,
And with Her feet, crushing the ‘serpent’ down!
‘Hail Mary, full of grace! ’ the angels said.
‘The lord’s with Thee; Thou art bless’d ’mongst women!
And bless’d is Jesus Christ, fruit of thy womb, ’
The mother of God and Queen of Heaven,
Our intercessor with God, beyond our tomb!
O Lady born without Original Sin,
Who brought forth Jesus on that Christmas night;
Our fight against temptations- helps us win;
O Mother chaste assumed by Heaven’s light.
Mother of sorrows- when Christ died on cross,
Please pray for us for our Heavenly cause.
30-8-2001
poem by John Celes
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A Parting
The year is on the wing, my love,
With tearful days and nights;
The clouds are on the wing above
With gathering swallow-flights.
The year is on the wing, my sweet,
And in the ghostly race,
With patter of unnumbered feet,
The dead leaves fly apace.
The year is on the wing, and shakes
The last rose from its tree;
And I, whose heart in parting breaks,
Must bid adieu to thee.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Mary Of Magdala
Mary of Magdala came to bed;
There were no soft curtains round her head;
She had no mother to hold of worth
The little baby she brought to birth.
Mary of Magdala groaned and prayed:
'O God, I am very much afraid;
For out of my body, by sin defiled,
Thou biddest me make a little child.
'O God, I have turned my face from Thee
To that which the angels may not see;
How can I make, from my deep disgrace,
A child whose angel shall see Thy face?
'O God, I have sinned, and I know well
That the pains I bear are the pains of hell;
But the thought of the child that sin has given
Is like the thought of the airs of Heaven.'
Mary of Magdala held her breath
In the clutch of pain like the pains of Death,
And through her heart, like the mortal knife,
Went the pang of joy and the pang of life.
'We two are two alone,' said she,
'And we are two who should be three;
Now who will clothe my baby fair
In the little garments that babies wear?'
There came two angels with quiet wings
And hands that were full of baby things;
And the new-born child was bathed and dressed
And laid again on his mother's breast.
'Now who will sign on his brow the mark
To keep him safe from the Powers of the Dark?
Who will my baby's sponsor be?'
'I, the Lord God, who died for thee.'
'Now who will comfort him if he cry;
And who will suckle him by and bye?
For my hands are cold and my breasts are dry,
And I think that my time has come to die.'
'I will dandle thy son as a mother may;
And his lips shall lie where my own Son's lay.
Come, dear little one, come to me;
The Mother of God shall suckle thee.'
Mary of Magdala laughed and sighed;
'I never deserved a child,' she cried.
'Dear God, I am ready to go to hell,
Since with my little one all is well.'
Then the Son of Mary did o'er her lean.
'Poor mother, thy tears have washed thee clean.
Thy last poor pains, they will soon be done,
And My Mother shall give thee back thy son.'
Frozen grass for a bearing bed,
A halo of frost round a woman's head,
And pious folks who looked and said:
'A drab and her brat that are better dead.'
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Broken Wing
She loved like he was the last man on earth. gave him everything she ever had.
Hed break her spirit down, then come lovin up on her. give a little, then
Take it back. shed tell him about her dreams - hed just shoot em down. lord,
He loved to make her cry. youre crazy for believin youll ever leave the
Ground. he said only angels know how to fly.
And with a broken wing, she still sings. she keeps an eye on the sky. with a
Broken wing, she carries her dreams. man, you ought to see her fly.
One sunday mornin, she didnt go to church. he wondered why she didnt leave.
He went up to her bedroom, found a note by the window, with the curtains
Blowin in the breeze, and with a broken wing, she still sings. she keeps an
Eye on the sky. with a broken wing, she carries her dreams. man, you ought to
See her fly. with a broken wing, she carries her dreams. man, you ought to see
Her fly. (with a broken wing oooooh)
song performed by by Martina Mcbride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heart On The Wing
My heart is on the wing tonight
Slowly fading away
I hear my brothers scream down there
But no longer I can stay
Ain't anybody there to pray
For a spirit on it's way
Does anybody care who pays
For the blossoms that we break?
A burning heart is on the wing tonight
It's drifting home and may forgive our pride
The right is on your side you say
While you crush what we have found
You say you turned your pride away
While you burn a sacred ground
You're standing on a hill to preach
A love you'd never share
But you don't know a thing, for life
Only one may take away
A burning heart is on the wing tonight
It's drifting home and may forgive our pride
(Home...
a burning heart drifting home...
forgive our pride...)
No matter what you say
No right is on your side
I hope some day you'll break
The blossom of your pride
song performed by by Zeno
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mary’s Day (Feast of BVM assumed into heaven)
The mother of Jesus –Mary,
The anguished heart at Calvary;
The figurine with the rosary,
Is live at God’s own sanctuary!
‘Hail Mary, full of grace is live,
In body, soul assumed by God! ’
Like Christ, death could not her deprive
Of victory, glory, like her Lord.
The Immaculate Conception had
Become the handmaid of the Lord;
And in her sacred womb, the Word
Dwelt, receiving flesh, and was clad.
In Mary, heaven and earth had met:
The glorious Son Of God was born;
Her obeisance to God had set
Satan’s defeat, and newer dawn.
The lady clad in sun as gown,
And stars upon her head as crown,
And moon beneath her feet to stand,
Reached heaven with angelic band.
God raised the sinless virgin bride
To be Queen of Heaven, beside
The Lamb of God, who lives and reigns
In endless glory that ne’er wanes.
All angels, saints pay homage then,
To Mary Blessed, Queen of Heaven;
All righteous souls, She longs to see –
Humanity in Eternity.
Dedicated to the BVM on her ‘Feast of Assumption’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 15-08-2010
poem by John Celes
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Broken-wing Angel
Out of a sapphire blue heaven
I fell down to earth,
while I reached with my right hand
for the stars.
Michael and Gabriel was with me
when a thunder stroke
clapped blinding out of the darkness
and hit my right wing and singe it.
The forces of darkness
was suddenly everywhere around me
and with a last desperate swish
of my left wing
and with a flaming sword
I tried to stop
that they lay there hands
on a child in Clanwilliam.
Today there’s a marble statue
at that child’s grave
and no man knows,
why I protect that piece of earth
with a broken wing.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Cold Feet
There was a little boy once upon a time
Who in spite of his young age and small size knew his mind
For every copper penny and clover he would find
Make a wish for better days the end of hard times
For no more cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
His clothes were always clean
His face was always scrubbed
There was food on the table enough to fill him up
His house was full of life - his house was full of love
But when winter days arrived
There was never money enough to shod his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He grew up to be a worker determined to succeed
He made a life for himself, free from worldly wants or needs
But with nobody to share the life hed made
No body to keep him warm at night
When hed go to sleep hed sleep alone with his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
One night he walked the street looking to the heavens above
Searching for a shooting star a benevolent god
When a woman passing by brushed his arm
He turned and found love
He then wished for the courage to ask this stranger
Who she was to not have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He thought shed like the party life and want the finer things
So he promised more than he could buy
And he promised her the sun and moon to not have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He worked day and night his fingers to the bone
Hi worried mind guilty conscience drive him on
He cant give her what she needs
He wants to give her what he thinks she wants
Her sad-eyed face, his empty pockets drive him on and his cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
Hed struggled all his life to be an honest man
Proud that the dirt on his palms was the soil of the land
But some guys he knew from high school days
Said they had a plan to get rich quick
And they could count him in if he dont have cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He thought about their offer accepted it without qualms
Dreamt about the life hed buy
The comfort that would come without cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
He decided to tell his wife things would soon turn around
He said the little boy is dead
A man stands with you now without cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
Without cold feet - cold cold cold cold feet
He thought hed set his clock right - he though hed read his watch
He left in such a hurry he didnt think to wish for luck
Makes no difference if youre early - no difference if youre late
When youre out of time - the flowers have been laid
Youre six feet underground
With cold feet
Cold cold cold cold feet
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Broken Wing
Today I watched a robin
In our front yard
I thought by now that they schold all be gone.
With winter round the corner
Snow on its way
Surely something must be wrong.
Then in that old oak tree I finally saw her
Where she sat gazing down upon her mate
And the song that she was singing
Seemed to say Ill be right here
Id like to go, but your loves made me stay.
Hes got a broken wing
And thats why he cant fly
She just cant leave him there
So she stays by his side
Theyre just like you and me
Oh you shouldve heard her sing
They wont give up
Its just a broken wing.
I wish we all could learn
What they seem to have found
To love our families
When trouble comes around
Ill bet that God saw fit
To show them unto me
Him on the ground
Her in that tree.
Hes got a broken wing
And thats why he cant fly
She just cant leave him there
So she stays by his side
Theyre just like you and me
Oh you shouldve heard her sing
They wont give up
We wont give up
They wont give up
Its just a broken wing.
Ooooooooh...
Its just a broken wing.
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cassandra
To me, one silly task is like another.
I bare the shambling tricks of lust and pride.
This flesh will never give a child its mother,—
Song, like a wing, tears through my breast, my side,
And madness chooses out my voice again,
Again. I am the chosen no hand saves:
The shrieking heaven lifted over men,
Not the dumb earth, wherein they set their graves.
poem by Louise Bogan
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San Miniato
SEE, I have climbed the mountain side
Up to this holy house of God,
Where once that Angel-Painter trod
Who saw the heavens opened wide,
And throned upon the crescent moon
The Virginal white Queen of Grace,--
Mary! could I but see thy face
Death could not come at all too soon.
O crowned by God with thorns and pain!
Mother of Christ! O mystic wife!
My heart is weary of this life
And over-sad to sing again.
O crowned by God with love and flame!
O crowned by Christ the Holy One!
O listen ere the searching sun
Show to the world my sin and shame.
poem by Oscar Wilde
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A Dream
I dreamed that I ws dead and crossed the heavens,--
Heavens after heavens with burning feet and swift,--
And cried: "O God, where art Thou?" I left one
On earth, whose burden I would pray Thee lift."
I was so dead I wondered at no thing,--
Not even that the angels slowly turned
Their faces, speechless, as I hurried by
(Beneath my feet the golden pavements burned);
Nor, at the first, that I could not find God,
Because the heavens stretched endlessly like space.
At last a terror siezed my very soul;
I seemed alone in all the crowded place.
Then, sudden, one compassionate cried out,
Though like the rest his face from me he turned,
As I were one no angel might regard
(Beneath my feet the golden pavements burned):
"No moew in heaven than earth will he find God
Who does not know his loving mercy swift
But waits the moment consummate and ripe,
Each burden, from each human soul to lift."
Though I was dead, I died again for shame;
Lonely, to flee from heaven again I turned;
The ranks of angels looked away from me
(Beneath my feet the golden pavements burned).
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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