The Four Ages. A Brief Fragment Of An Extensive Projected Poem
'I could be well content, allowed the use
Of past experience, and the wisdom gleaned
From worn-out follies, now acknowledged such,
To recommence life's trial, in the hope
Of fewer errors, on a second proof!'
Thus while gray evening lulled the wind, and called
Fresh odours from the shrubbery at my side,
Taking my lonely winding walk, I mused,
And held accustomed conference with my heart;
When from within it thus a voice replied:
'Couldst thou in truth? and art thou taught at length
This wisdom, and but this, from all the past?
Is not the pardon of thy long arrear,
Time wasted, violated laws, abuse
Of talents, judgements, mercies, better far
Than opportunity vouchsafed to err
With less excuse, and haply, worse effect?'
I heard, and acquiesced: then to and fro
Oft pacing, as the mariner his deck,
My gravelly bounds, from self to human kind
I passed, and next considered, what is man?
Knows he his origin? can he ascend
By reminiscence to his earliest date?
Slept he in Adam? and in those from him
Through numerous generations, till he found
At length his destined moment to be born?
Or was he not, till fashioned in the womb?
Deep mysteries both! which schoolmen must have toiled
To unriddle, and have left them mysteries still.
It is an evil incident to man,
And of the worst, that unexplored he leaves
Truths useful and attainable with ease,
To search forbidden deeps, where mystery lies
Not to be solved, and useless, if it might.
Mysteries are food for angels; they digest
With ease, and find them nutriment; but man,
While yet he dwells below, must stoop to glean
His manna from the ground, or starve and die.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
poem by William Cowper
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Related quotes
Mysteries Revealed
Mysteries that men have heard, are revealed in God’s Word.
What were once mysteries, have been revealed for all to see.
The mystery of Jesus Christ, who’s the very Author of all life.
A mystery of purpose in Christ, how in Him we have New Life.
Another mystery of Jesus Christ, is how we gain Eternal Life.
There’s the mystery of Israel, and how they fit into God’s will.
Israel is hardened for awhile, so God can include the Gentile.
God didn’t forget the nation; they’re included in His Salvation.
By redemption in God’s Son, Jew and Gentile become one.
The mystery of The Gospel, and how in Christ it was fulfilled.
And the mystery of The Church; those in Christ by New Birth.
My Friend, not to be remiss, there’s the mystery of Godliness.
The mystery of His Revelation; an unveiling of God’s Salvation.
The mystery of end times friend; what God shall do in the end.
The mystery of hope in Glory; the purpose of the Gospel story.
Behold, I show you a mystery, one that every eye shall see.
Christians will not all see death, but be changed in a breath,
In the twinkling of an eye, they will see Christ, but will not die.
While men left upon the earth, will not see men of New Birth,
For only those men born again, shall be raptured in the end.
All the mysteries of past sages, are fulfilled in the Rock of Ages.
God spoke in prophets of old, in Christ fulfilled mysteries untold.
Christ’s Revelation revealed to all, redemption from Adam’s fall.
Christ revealed His Salvation, to every Jew and Gentile nation.
If you accept Christ as Lord, the mystery is a mystery no more.
Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 22
It is related that a hermit consumed during one night ten mann of food and perused the whole Quran till morning. A pious fellow who had heard of this said: ‘It would have been more excellent if he had eaten half a loaf and slept till the morning.’
Keep thy interior empty of food
That thou mayest behold therein the light of marifet.
Thou art empty of wisdom for the reason
That thou art replete with food up to the nose.
Time and Experience
I found the past in my present
I built the future on my past
I found the gift of today
When I thought about what
The future has to offer
Where is the wisdom in experience
If there is no folly in wisdom
What's the real meaning of death
If our spirits live forever
Times never change
But circumstances do
I'll let mystery play with the future
Surprises couple with the present
And experience mourn the past
Because sun always rises from the east
And each day always comes to an end
Experience is not chained to wisdom
Nor is folly tied to bad results
But to the circumstances that burden
Our past, present and future because
Time is always anxious for the future
Experience loves the present
And wisdom never divorces the past
poem by Benaiah Sondashi
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To The Cricket
Didst thou not tease and fret me to and fro,
Sweet spirit of this summer-circled field,
With that quiet voice of thine that would not yield
Its meaning, though I mused and sought it so?
But now I am content to let it go,
To lie at length and watch the swallows pass,
As blithe and restful as this quiet grass,
Content only to listen and to know
That years shall turn, and summers yet shall shine,
And I shall lie beneath these swaying trees,
Still listening thus; haply at last to seize,
And render in some happier verse divine
That friendly, homely, haunting speech of thine,
That perfect utterance of content and ease.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Sweet Death
The sweetest blossoms die.
And so it was that, going day by day
Unto the church to praise and pray,
And crossing the green churchyard thoughtfully,
I saw how on the graves the flowers
Shed their fresh leaves in showers,
And how their perfume rose up to the sky
Before it passed away.
The youngest blossoms die.
They die, and fall and nourish the rich earth
From which they lately had their birth;
Sweet life, but sweeter death that passeth by
And is as though it had not been:—
All colors turn to green:
The bright hues vanish, and the odours fly,
The grass hath lasting worth.
And youth and beauty die.
So be it, O my God, Thou God of truth:
Better than beauty and than youth
Are Saints and Angels, a glad company;
And Thou, O lord, our Rest and Ease,
Are better far than these.
Why should we shrink from our full harvest? why
Prefer to glean with Ruth?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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A Student's Evening Hymn
I.
Now no more the slanting rays
With the mountain summits dally,
Now no more in crimson blaze
Evening’s fleecy cloudless rally,
Soon shall Night front off the valley
Sweep that bright yet earthly haze,
And the stars most musically
Move in endless rounds of praise.
II.
While the world is growing dim,
And the Sun is slow descending
Past the far horizon’s rim,
Earth's low sky to heaven extending,
Let my feeble earth-notes, blending
With the songs of cherubim,
Through the same expanse ascending,
Thus renew my evening hymn.
III.
Thou that fill’st our waiting eyes
With the food of contemplation,
Setting in thy darkened skies
Signs of infinite creation,
Grant to nightly meditation
What the toilsome day denies—
Teach me in this earthly station
Heavenly Truth to realise.
IV.
Give me wisdom so to use
These brief hours of thoughtful leisure,
That I may no instant lose
In mere meditative pleasure,
But with strictest justice measure
All the ends my life pursues,
Lies to crush and truths to treasure,
Wrong to shun and Right to choose.
V.
Then, when unexpected Sleep,
O’er my long-closed eyelids stealing,
Opens up that lower deep
Where Existence has no feeling,
May sweet Calm, my languor healing,
Lend note strength at dawn to reap
All that Shadows, world-concealing,
For the bold enquirer keep.
VI.
Through the creatures Thou hast made
Show the brightness of Thy glory,
Be eternal Truth displayed
In their substance transitory,
Till green Earth and Ocean hoary,
Massy rock and tender blade
Tell the same unending story—
"We are Truth in Form arrayed."
VII.
When to study I retire,
And from books of ancient sages
Glean fresh sparks of buried fire
Lurking in their ample pages—
While the task my mind engages
Let old words new truths inspire-—
Truths that to all after-ages
Prompt the Thoughts that never tire.
VIII.
Yet if, led by shadows fair
I have uttered words of folly,
Let the kind absorbing air
Stifle every sound unholy.
So when Saints with Angels lowly
Join in heaven’s unceasing prayer,
Mine as certainly, though slowly,
May ascend and mingle there.
IX.
Teach me so Thy works to read
That my faith,—new strength accruing,—
May from world to world proceed,
Wisdom's fruitful search pursuing;
Till, thy truth my mind imbuing,
I proclaim the Eternal Creed,
Oft the glorious theme renewing
God our Lord is God indeed.
X.
Give me love aright to trace
Thine to everything created,
Preaching to a ransomed race
By Thy mercy renovated,
Till with all thy fulness sated
I behold thee face to face
And with Ardour unabated
Sing the glories of thy grace.
poem by James Clerk Maxwell
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Our Infinity
Life goes on,
continents divide,
and love is suppressed
and fails to come alive.
We march to our infinity,
never a second to waste
as figures flicker passed
like phantoms from the past.
Regrets are lost
as is sometimes love,
never to be regretted
in the existence we have sown.
Failing hands reach out
for something to grasp
and all they clutch
is empty air.
Puzzles remain unsolved
and mysteries remain
mysteries, never solved,
Love bargains at the table
never won or lost,
but like a deflowered virgin
sometimes aside are tossed.
On the precipice of mankind,
we teeter on the edge
waiting for the hand
on our shoulder to fall
and the voice our name to call.
28 July 2010
poem by David Harris
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Written Christmas Day 1797
I am a widow'd thing, now thou art gone!
Now thou art gone, my own familiar friend,
Companion, sister, help-mate, counsellor!
Alas! that honour'd mind, whose sweet reproof
And meekest wisdom in times past have smooth'd
The unfilial harshness of my foolish speech,
And made me loving to my parents old,
(Why is this so, ah God! why is this so?)
That honour'd mind become a fearful blank,
Her senses lock'd up, and herself kept out
From human sight or converse, while so many
Of the foolish sort are left to roam at large,
Doing all acts of folly, and sin, and shame?
Thy paths are mystery!
Yet I will not think,
Sweet friend, but we shall one day meet, and live
In quietness, and die so, fearing God.
Or if not, and these false suggestions be
A fit of the weak nature, loth to part
With what it lov'd so long, and held so dear;
If thou art to be taken, and I left
(More sinning, yet unpunish'd, save in thee),
It is the will of God, and we are clay
In the potter's hands; and, at the worst, are made
From absolute nothing, vessels of disgrace,
Till, his most righteous purpose wrought in us,
Our purified spirits find their perfect rest.
poem by Charles Lamb
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From The Series 'Moon Rivers
An evening spent with the children of the children of the holocaust
Different lives
Different strives
To be something, someone
In relation to all that is gone
In the past long ago and long since hence
We are still bound by the energies the mysteries we can only partially glimpse at through Ancestors eyes
And try to surmise our own meaning and existence
Make some sense of it all
The call
Of genetics and emotional heritage
This is us we are they and they are them
And between us all is a thread that links the whole chain,
From me to you and back again
The underlying synchronicity and wisdom of it all
This life inextricably linked to all others
The magic of how I met you and you met me
And how we came to be this three
Sitting here sipping champagne
Pondering past and present both
I feel the magic in the air as things fall into place
Crumb by crumb weaving their way into rainbow psychedelic patterns that all make Sense… at least to me
Alone in my tree
Of wisdom and sin
I ate the apple you see
I wanted to know more
Killed the cat for sure
And now here is me, alone again, typing words
As another new moon is born
Fingernail thin floating above western roofs
A new phase for planets and all has begun
Rebirth and renew let past moons be gone forever, forgotten in memories bliss
From now let it just be,
let my heart find its peace
In all that once was
And all that will come to be.
poem by Petra Creffield
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The Slipping of Meet Notes
Accustomed to lies.
What does the truth really mean?
Accustomed to lies laying low on the scene!
Accustomed to tell them...
And protect when told.
Accustomed to lies,
Whether fresh released or old held on hold!
Accustomed to lies...
Without a bat of an eyelash moving!
Accustomed to lies.
Dishonesty is accepted and shown.
At the work place
Where the slipping of meet notes,
Does not provoke disdain.
Accustomed to lies...
And that's how our lives remain!
In heated sex away from home!
Regardless of who spies on another,
Both buffer their suffering by what's condoned.
Accustomed to lies...
And what is taught is always known!
Accustomed to lies.
Accustomed to holding on to them,
Until time flys!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Unsolved Mysteries
The world is filled with mysteries
some are of ghostly tales;
some are disappearances
that happen now and then.
Look at any newspaper
on any given day
and you will find a mystery
tucked away somewhere there within.
Some mysteries are of murder
and other deeds most foul,
but some are just plain bizarre
which are never really explained
even to this day.
Why would garden hosepipes
want to burrow deep into the ground overnight?
Strange you may say
and I will certainly agree with that,
but it really happened and not just once.
There was a whole spate them
many years ago
and no one had a reasonable explanation
why it happened, only that it did.
Just another unsolved mystery
in our world filled with them,
another something
no one will ever be able to explain.
5 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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To Mary
If I had thought thou couldst have died,
I might not weep for thee;
But I forgot, when by thy side,
That thou couldst mortal be:
It never through my mind had past
The time would e'er be o'er,
And I on thee should look my last,
And thou shouldst smile no more!
And still upon that face I look,
And think 'twill smile again;
And still the thought I will not brook,
That I must look in vain.
But when I speak—thou dost not say
What thou ne'er left'st unsaid;
And now I feel, as well I may,
Sweet Mary, thou art dead!
If thou wouldst stay, e'en as thou art,
All cold and all serene—
I still might press thy silent heart,
And where thy smiles have been.
While e'en thy chill, bleak corse I have,
Thou seemest still mine own;
But there—I lay thee in thy grave,
And I am now alone!
I do not think, where'er thou art,
Thou hast forgotten me;
And I, perhaps, may soothe this heart
In thinking too of thee:
Yet there was round thee such a dawn
Of light ne'er seen before,
As fancy never could have drawn,
And never can restore!
poem by Charles Wolfe
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Chakra #6
color-violet- brain
Chakra #6, or the third eye
2 lotus flower petals unfold.
at brow, base of brain.
when meditating one opens the
door to your inner most being.
Mysteries are revealed. Every-
thing we need, we already have.
Seek guiding vision in ones
inner world.
inner mysteries unfold.
deep meditation
radiant light
wisdom
focus
Seek and you shall find.
poem by Heather Burns
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Sonnet II
VNquiet thought, whom at the first I bred,
Of th'inward bale of my loue pined hart:
and sithens haue with sighes and sorrowes fed,
till greater then my wombe thou woxen art.
Breake forth at length out of the inner part,
in which thou lurkest lyke to vipers brood:
and seeke some succour both to ease my smart
and also to sustayne thy selfe with food.
But if in presence of that fayrest proud
thou chance to come, fall lowly at her feet:
and with meeke humblesse and afflicted mood,
pardon for thee, and grace for me intreat.
Which if she graunt, then liue and my loue cherish,
if not, die soone, and I with thee will perish.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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When one grows old......
When one grows old, and life is speeding past
Year follows year, each quicker than the last
When there's nothing new to look for
And the past is all that's left
Don't leave me lonely
If I must weep, then let my tears ease pain
And if my heart breaks, then comfort me again
Give me your strength
That I may walk erect
Don't leave me lonely
But if you go, and I am left awhile
Then go in peace, just leave me with your smile
And till we meet
I'll have my memories
I won't be lonely
poem by Hilda Bristow
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Boundless curiosity for friend Thad.
The world is full of mysteries.
Colossal buildings left behind
by earlier societies.
Their purposes still ill defined
Although the archaeologists
advance their favourite theories.
The mysteries will long persist.
Their different hypotheses.
Cannot be proven any way.
They’re based on their experience
Of living in the world to day.
A different frame of reference.
Which cannot possibly apply
They saw the world quite differently.
I do not think we can deny
We’re blinkered in the way we see.
The evidence which we can find,
We can’t interpret properly
The artefacts they left behind
Their uses are a mystery.
Though we attempt to classify
we can’t be sure we are correct.
These relics from past history
aren’t always what we would expect.
Temples and Tombs or Palaces
The truth is that we do not know
Secular or sacred places.
There is no evidence to show.
That we can state with confidence
confirms our modern theories.
We have no point of reference
With which everyone agrees.
The arguments rage to and fro
As experts wrangle bitterly
They daren’t admit they do not know.
Although they don’t quite obviously.
At best an educated guess
Must be the best we can expect.
From experts trying to impress
The other experts I suspect.
It seems to me improbable
That we will solve these mysteries
Our mind sets aren’t comparable
as different as chalk and cheese.
But still we are compelled to try
because these monuments exist.
Our boundless curiosity
will not allow us to desist.
Saturday,24 April 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Find Myself
By eric clapton
We took the long way home, you held my hand,
The days so full of all the things we had planned.
We walked beyond the green, beyond the day.
We shared a dream that I let slip away.
I had to find myself.
I had to find myself.
No use looking for no one else,
cause Ill be lonely till I find myself.
You were the man who knew too much to say.
So many things that I learned came your way.
These things I know that I cant forget,
Deep in my heart, theyre a part of me yet.
They helped me find myself.
They helped me find myself.
No use looking for no one else,
cause Ill be lonely till I find myself.
Too many years rolled by without a word.
I tried to hide behind things that Id heard.
And now the truth is clear for all to see
That through it all, it was you believed in me.
You helped me find myself.
I had to find myself.
No use looking for no one else,
cause Ill be lonely till I find myself.
I got to find myself.
I got to find myself.
No use looking for no one else,
cause Ill be lonely till I find myself.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is It You?
What more do you want?
What more could you ask?
What else could ever last but the present
In a world ever changing with the moment?
We are alive within the one, the all
We are Adam, We are Eve before the fall
Still seeking a bite of the wisdom forbidden to us
By a god who would see us as sheep
Hiding naked from a god who would see us dreamless in our sleep.
I have been reduced to a maddened fool
Wandering alone the rooftops of the world
Dying for the chance to sigh at Beauty in her grace
Seeking with a faith in hope and a hope in love to find a better place
And here I am defenceless
A faceless clown in a sideshow of carnival debasement
A lion trapped in a cage of undue loyalty
But to who?
To the Ringmaster?
To the Puppet master?
To you?
Is it you who would have me alone within my world?
Is it you who would see me roasted upon flames rather than
Sat by the fireplace curled, unravelling the mysteries in the moment ever changing?
poem by David Lacey
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Forbidden To See
We see it clearly yet forbidden to see
Feel bondage and not free
Wants to get rid off or cross
But find confusion and at loss,
Always inwardly feel
But no powerful will
Instinct to kill
But unable to fill
Near to truth
But still wants proof
With shelter and roof
Yet feels very lonely and aloof
It is inside strength
Match with full wave length
Soul revolts and ignorance melts
Wisdom prevails and divinity is felt
No drams but with reality
Prove as human being with good quality
Inhuman in approach yet close to humanity
Strong resolve despite known inability
Still more is needed
Advice is heeded
Path is searched
Goal is reached
What is to be left behind?
No one knows how to find
Yet at heart we are kind
Little upset compels us to mind
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A truth beyond denial
Days and nights pass,
ages fade and bloom,
no one's too old,
to count his days to doom.
Blessed is the one who breathes,
and with a smile who leaves,
love them strong my brothers, love'em strong,
for in your excuse to believe.
A journey of few steps called life,
each step does mysteries hold,
your will, to stay or move on,
but destined always to face the truth bold.
A truth beyond denial,
A truth impervious to refute,
A truth an absolute halt,
A truth tied in with you.
poem by Chaitanya Dorwat
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