From The Italian Of Michael Angelo
YES! hope may with my strong desire keep pace,
And I be undeluded, unbetrayed;
For if of our affections none finds grace
In sight of Heaven, then, wherefore hath God made
The world which we inhabit? Better plea
Love cannot have, than that in loving thee
Glory to that eternal Peace is paid,
Who such divinity to thee imparts
As hallows and makes pure all gentle hearts.
His hope is treacherous only whose love dies
With beauty, which is varying every hour;
But, in chaste hearts uninfluenced by the power
Of outward change, there blooms a deathless flower,
That breathes on earth the air of paradise.
poem by William Wordsworth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Love's Reason
For that thy face is fair I love thee not;
Nor yet because the light of thy brown eyes
Hath gleams of wonder and of glad surprise,
Like woodland streams that cross a sunlit spot:
Nor for thy beauty, born without a blot,
Most perfect when it shines through no disguise
Pure as the star of Eve in Paradise, ---
For all these outward things I love thee not:
But for a something in thy form and face,
Thy looks and ways, of primal harmony;
A certain soothing charm, a vital grace
That breathes of the eternal womanly,
And makes me feel the warmth of Nature's breast,
When in her arms, and thine, I sink to rest.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To England
We are not twain, but one: though seas divide us—
The children of the English-speaking race—
This nothing now can change: whate'er betide us,
This is our birthright grace.
The tongue that holds our earliest recollection,
Whose accents moved us like a fond caress—
The tongue in which we lisped our first affection,
Must still attach and bless.
America and England knit together—
Offspring of one great Mother, Sister Lands—
Fear neither frowning fate nor boding weather,
When close are joined their hands.
Beneath the ocean-billow sways the cable
That gives them instant knowledge, each of each,
And were it sunk, their hearts would still be able
To find a way of speech.
The younger, who her virgin prairies planted
To bless the alien—Teuton, Latin, Gaul,
Welcomes the poorest, as to realms enchanted,
And makes them English, all!
And still, the elder, in the hour of danger,
The bond of kinship never quite forgot,
Speaks with commanding accent to the stranger:
"Be heedful; touch her not!"
For we have felt—have felt with one another,
Sharing each other's hope, each other's dread;
And we have wept, as children of one mother,
Mourning our cherished dead.
Is 't for ourselves this friendship hath caressed us—
That Heaven hath strengthened so the English speech?
Nay; God forbid! the mercy that hath blessed us
Hath a diviner reach!
If with new strength there come not larger kindness,
Our banners, proudly borne, were better furled;
If we no longer see, for selfish blindness,
Beyond our realms, the world,—
Then poor, indeed, though vast our rule supernal,
Who magnify the ill we might redeem;
Missing the glory of the hope eternal—
The god-like, human dream!
To solace life, there blooms on earth a flower
Whose deathless name is Love. Of its increase
Are born compassion, freedom, beauty, power;
And of its gift is peace.
O Sister Lands, thrice blest! though wisdom guide us,
Yet in our hearts may love perfected lie—
Deep as the ocean that cannot divide us,
Kind as the arching sky!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Mine and Thine (1904)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Septuagesima Sunday
There is a book, who runs may read,
Which heavenly truth imparts,
And all the lore its scholars need,
Pure eyes and Christian hearts.
The works of God above, below,
Within us and around,
Are pages in that book, to show
How God Himself is found.
The glorious sky embracing all
Is like the Maker's love,
Wherewith encompassed, great and small
In peace and order move.
The Moon above, the Church below,
A wondrous race they run,
But all their radiance, all their glow,
Each borrows of its Sun.
The Savour lends the light and heat
That crowns His holy hill;
The saints, like stars, around His seat
Perform their courses still.
The saints above are stars in heaven -
What are the saints on earth?
Like tress they stand whom God has given,
Our Eden's happy birth.
Faith is their fixed unswerving root,
Hope their unfading flower,
Fair deeds of charity their fruit,
The glory of their bower.
The dew of heaven is like Thy grace,
It steals in silence down;
But where it lights, this favoured place
By richest fruits is known.
One Name above all glorious names
With its ten thousand tongues
The everlasting sea proclaims.
Echoing angelic songs.
The raging Fire, the roaring Wind,
Thy boundless power display;
But in the gentler breeze we find
Thy Spirit's viewless way.
Two worlds are ours: 'tis only Sin
Forbids us to descry
The mystic heaven and earth within,
Plain as the sea and sky.
Thou, who hast given me eyes to see
And love this sight so fair,
Give me a heart to find out Thee,
And read Thee everywhere.
poem by John Keble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: V
ON THE POWER OF HER BEAUTY
I am lighthearted now. An hour ago
There was a tempest in my heaven, a flame
Of sullen lightning under a bent brow
And a dull muttering which breathed no name.
Now all is changed. The very winds are tame,
And the birds sing aloud from every bough,
And my heart leaps. What empire dost thou claim,
Child, o'er this Earth, that nature serves thee so?
Sublime magician! Well may Earth and Heaven
Change at thy bidding, and the hearts of men.
Didst thou but know the power that beauty hath,
The sea should leave his bed, the rocks be riven,
And wise men, deeming chaos come again,
Should kneel before thee and conjure thy wrath.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Mediator
O Christ, true Son of God most high,
Thy name we praise for ever;
Whoe'er to Thee for help doth cry
Shall find Thee fail him never;
'Tis Thou wilt plead,
Thou intercede
With God, for us who need Thy prayers so sore:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
To Thee the Father giveth now
All power in earth and heaven;
Sin, Satan, Death to Thee must bow,
All fetters Thou hast riven,
Bade fear to cease,
And made our peace,
That now to God we dare our hearts outpour:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
Fulness of grace is in Thy Word;
The Life, the Truth, the Way
To life eternal art Thou, Lord;
To Thee alone we pray,
Who didst appear
A servant here
To bear the sin that crushed the world before:
Thy bitter strife
Hath wrought us life,
And Thine be thanks and praise for evermore!
poem by Hans Sachs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Vow to Heavenly Venus
We that with like hearts love, we lovers twain,
New wedded in the village by thy fane,
Lady of all chaste love, to thee it is
We bring these amaranths, these white lilies,
A sign, and sacrifice; may Love, we pray,
Like amaranthine flowers, feel no decay;
Like these cool lilies may our loves remain,
Perfect and pure, and know not any stain;
And be our hearts, from this thy holy hour,
Bound each to each, like flower to wedded flower.
poem by Joachim du Bellay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hope Dieth: Hope Liveth
Strong are thine arms, O love, & strong
Thine heart to live, and love, and long;
But thou art wed to grief and wrong:
Live, then, and long, though hope be dead!
Live on, & labour thro’ the years!
Make pictures through the mist of tears,
Of unforgotten happy fears,
That crossed the time ere hope was dead.
Draw near the place where once we stood
Amid delight’s swift-rushing flood,
And we and all the world seemed good
Nor needed hope now cold and dead.
Dream in the dawn I come to thee
Weeping for things that may not be!
Dream that thou layest lips on me!
Wake, wake to clasp hope’s body dead!
Count o’er and o’er, and one by one
The minutes of the happy sun
That while agone on kissed lips shone,
Count on, rest not, for hope is dead.
Weep, though no hair’s breadth thou shalt move
The living Earth, the heaven above
By all the bitterness of love!
Weep and cease not, now hope is dead!
Sighs rest thee not, tears bring no ease,
Life hath no joy, and Death no peace:
The years change not, though they decrease,
For hope is dead, for hope is dead.
Speak, love, I listen: far away
I bless the tremulous lips, that say,
“Mock not the afternoon of day,
Mock not the tide when hope is dead!”
I bless thee, O my love, who say’st:
“Mock not the thistle-cumbered waste;
I hold Love’s hand, and make no haste
Down the long way, now hope is dead.
With other names do we name pain,
The long years wear our hearts in vain.
Mock not our loss grown into gain,
Mock not our lost hope lying dead.
Our eyes gaze for no morning-star,
No glimmer of the dawn afar;
Full silent wayfarers we are
Since ere the noon-tide hope lay dead.
Behold with lack of happiness
The master, Love, our hearts did bless
Lest we should think of him the less:
Love dieth not, though hope is dead!”
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Not Love
I HAVE not yet I could have loved thee, sweet;
Nor know I wherefore, thou being all thou art,
The engrafted thought in me throve incomplete,
And grew to summer strength in every part
Of root and leaf, but hath not borne the flower.
Love hath refrained his fullness from my heart.
I know no better beauty, none with power
To hold mine eyes through change and change as thine,
Like southern skies that alter with each hour,
And yet are changeless, and their calm divine
From light to light hath motionlessly passed,
With only different loveliness for sign.
I know no fairer nature, nor where, cast
On the clear mirror of thine own young truth,
The imaged things of Heaven lie plainer glassed;
Nor where more fit alike show tender ruth,
And anger for the right, and hopes aglow,
And joy and sighs of April-hearted youth.
But some day I, so wont to praise thee so
With unabashed warm words for all to hear,
Shall scarcely name another, speaking low.
Some day, methinks, and who can tell how near?
I may, to thee unchanged, be praising thee
With one not worthier but a world more dear;
With one I know not yet, who shall, maybe,
Be not so fair, be not in aught thy peer;
Who shall be all that thou art not to me.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Christ Came
Christ came to earth to walk with us, to help us walk with God in trust,
And to trust God with our very life, through His Only Son Jesus Christ.
This trust in which we place in God, goes far beyond this earthly sod,
Trust on earth that moves to Grace, and leads us to an eternal place.
Christ came and gave His life for sin, so we could give our life to Him,
So that we could walk upon the earth, through the power of New Birth.
Christ told Nicodemus that all men, to see Heaven must be born again,
Born anew through the Spirit of Christ; born again to inherit Eternal Life.
Christ came to this earth to proclaim, Hope and Salvation in His Name,
God’s Salvation available to everyone, through His Only Begotten Son.
Christ’s earthly life ended on the cross, a bridge of Hope for all the lost,
For through His death and resurrection, He gives all life a new direction.
Christ came so we can be God’s own, and gain from Him a new home,
An eternal one in Heaven above, where we’ll live forever in God’s Love.
By Christ coming to be a sacrifice, The Lord paid our way into Paradise,
Far beyond earth’s temporal shore, to dwell in God’s Glory forevermore.
Christ came to bring Hope and Peace, that in His Power will not cease,
When He reigns on earth as King, and The Lord and God of everything.
Christ’s Reign shall include all those, who believe that Christ truly rose,
So believe and reign forevermore, when Christ reigns as King and Lord.
(Copyright ©12/2006)
Sepulchre
O blessed body! Whither are thou thrown?
No lodging for thee, but a cold hard stone?
So many hearts on earth, and yet not one
Receive thee?
Sure there is room within our hearts' good store;
For they can lodge transgressions by the score:
Thousands of toys dwell there, yet out of door
They leave thee.
But that which shows them large, shows them unfit.
What ever sin did this pure rock commit,
Which holds thee now? Who hath indicted it
Of murder?
Where our hard hearts have took up stories to brain thee,
And missing this, most falsely did arraign thee,
And order.
And as of old, the law by heav'nly art
Was writ in stone; so thou, which also art
The letter of the word, find'st no fit heart
To hold thee.
Yet do we still persist as we began,
And so should perish, but that nothing can,
Though it be cold, hard, foul, from loving man
Withold thee.
poem by George Herbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XXII
ON THE NATURE OF LOVE
You ask my love. What shall my love then be ?
A hope, an aspiration, a desire?
The soul's eternal charter writ in fire
Upon the earth, the heavens, and the sea?
You ask my love. The carnal mystery
Of a soft hand, of finger--tips that press,
Of eyes that kindle and of lips that kiss,
Of sweet things known to thee and only thee?
You ask my love. What love can be more sweet
Than hope or pleasure? Yet we love in vain.
The soul is more than joy, the life than meat.
The sweetest love of all were love in pain,
And that I will not give. So let it be.
--Nay, give me any love, so it be love of thee.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Word To The 'Elect
You may rejoice to think yourselves secure;
You may be grateful for the gift divine --
That grace unsought, which made your black hearts pure,
And fits your earth-born souls in Heaven to shine.
But, is it sweet to look around, and view
Thousands excluded from that happiness,
Which they deserved, at least, as much as you, --
Their faults not greater, nor their virtues less?
And, wherefore should you love your God the more,
Because to you alone his smiles are given;
Because he chose to pass the many o'er,
And only bring the favoured few to Heaven?
And, wherefore should your hearts more grateful prove,
Because for ALL the Saviour did not die?
Is yours the God of justice and of love
And are your bosoms warm with charity?
Say, does your heart expand to all mankind?
And, would you ever to your neighbour do --
The weak, the strong, the enlightened, and the blind -
As you would have your neighbour do to you?
And, when you, looking on your fellow-men,
Behold them doomed to endless misery,
How can you talk of joy and rapture then? --
May God withhold such cruel joy from me!
That none deserve eternal bliss I know;
Unmerited the grace in mercy given:
But, none shall sink to everlasting woe,
That have not well deserved the wrath of Heaven.
And, Oh! there lives within my heart
A hope, long nursed by me;
(And, should its cheering ray depart,
How dark my soul would be!)
That as in Adam all have died,
In Christ shall all men live;
And ever round his throne abide,
Eternal praise to give.
That even the wicked shall at last
Be fitted for the skies;
And, when their dreadful doom is past,
To life and light arise.
I ask not, how remote the day,
Nor what the sinner's woe,
Before their dross is purged away;
Enough for me, to know
That when the cup of wrath is drained,
The metal purified,
They'll cling to what they once disdained,
And live by Him that died.
Acton
poem by Anne Brontë
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hosanna
Hosanna to our Lord and King, peace to many He shall bring,
A peace with God in our life, through our faith in Jesus Christ,
Many will be, by God, justified, by faith, in the One who died,
Christ, who died for all men, as in sin they stood condemned.
Hosanna to our Lord above, who fills men with unending love,
The Love of God poured on us, when in God we put our trust,
Trust in the work of our Lord, through who, the love is poured,
Down upon all believing hearts, a pure love that never departs.
Hosanna to our Lord of Hope, who helps us in our trials cope,
Through God’s endless Grace, we obtain through saving faith,
Hope extending beyond earth, to all who experience new birth,
Hope extended to each nation, to men who embrace salvation.
Hosanna to the One who came, to this earth that He may claim,
A peoples of His very Own, to gather about His Eternal Throne,
Saving them out of all their sin, when they put their faith in Him,
Not left here to stray and roam, given by God, an eternal home.
Hosanna to our Savior and God, who brought Hope to this sod,
The Love of God came for all, to save sinners from Adam’s fall,
Bringing peace to all at enmity, with God, by the way of Calvary,
When justified by God above, to grant us peace, hope and love.
(Copyright ©04/2009)
Vastness of God’s Love
The reach of Scripture is so vast, making changes in men which last,
Changing both attitudes and hearts, by The Spirit which God imparts.
Imparting to all the Spirit of Truth, in the message we call Good News.
A message He continues to herald, in all hearts throughout this world.
There is a vastness to God’s plan, that ultimately includes every man,
This plan will continue from His Word, until all upon earth have heard.
For every person upon this earth, shall hear God’s news of New Birth,
As in the end angels will proclaim, His only salvation in Christ’s name.
Individual impact is also quite vast, when God’s Truth in a heart is cast,
As Christ gives sinners a new worth, through God’s power of New Birth.
Worth that goes beyond this place, through the vastness of His Grace,
A Grace which gives you and me, a home above through all of Eternity.
The vastness of His Grace and Power, fills every minute, day and hour,
As The Spirit moves upon every land, helping all people to understand,
That His Son, who came to die for us, is the one in who to put our trust,
This so that we can live forevermore, through the message of our Lord.
This is the vastness of that Love, of God who reigns in Heaven above,
He who left the Glory of His Throne, to redeem a peoples for His own,
Even those who were deceived, have come to God and have received,
His forgiveness and Eternal Life, through God’s only Son Jesus Christ.
Millennium Prayer
Our Father who art in Heaven
Hallowed be thy name
Thy Kingdom come
thy will be done on earth as in heaven
Give us to thee our daily bread
And forgive our sins
As we forgive each one of those who sin against us
And lead us not to the time of trial
But deliver us from evil
For thine is the kingdom the power and the glory
Let all the people sing Amen
In every tribe and tongue
Let every hearts desire be joined
To see the kingdom come
Let every hope and every dream
Be born in love again
Let all the world sing with one voice
Let the people say amen
Amen Amen Amen
Amen Amen Amen (To fade)
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
They Know Not My Heart
They know not my heart, who believe there can be
One stain of this earth in its feelings for thee;
Who think, while I see thee in beauty's young hour,
As pure as the morning's first dew on the flower,
I could harm what I love, -- as the sun's wanton ray
But smiles on the dew-drop to waste it away.
No -- beaming with light as those young features are,
There's a light round thy heart which is lovelier far:
It is not that cheek -- 'tis the soul dawning clear
Through its innocent blush makes thy beauty so dear:
As the sky we look up to, though glorious and fair,
Is look'd up to the more, because Heaven lies there!
poem by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hope Christ Gives
Many may sorrow and may grieve, but, all those who truly believe,
Have a hope beyond this place, a hope provided by God’s Grace,
When at the passing of a soul, from the earth, they become whole,
And now in Heaven and at peace, in life with God that won’t cease.
Passing from earth, filled with sins, pure life in Heaven now begins,
As the soul enters into Eternal Life; all those who trust Jesus Christ,
And Born of God, from above, as they accepted the Savior’s Love,
When He died at Calvary for them, so that they could be born again.
Made alive in Christ, never to die, though a body before us may lie,
That body is only an earthly tent, while their soul, to Heaven is sent,
To a world that they’ve never seen, a place totally pure and pristine,
Where they shall be the same, but, absent of all struggles and pain.
Now absent of all worry and fears, there’s no more crying and tears;
We may be weeping at their death, but they now have eternal breath,
They’re living now to die no more, having begun to live forevermore,
Where there will be no more night, with the Lamb being all their Light.
This Eternal Hope is for all of us, who accept as Savior Christ Jesus,
This is a Hope for all of those, who know over death Christ has rose,
This future Hope for us is assured, when we know The Lamb as Lord,
Though He died, Christ now lives; this is that Hope, our Savior gives.
(Copyright ©01/2011)
Benedicite
God's love and peace be with thee, where
Soe'er this soft autumnal air
Lifts the dark tresses of thy hair.
Whether through city casements comes
Its kiss to thee, in crowded rooms,
Or, out among the woodland blooms,
It freshens o'er thy thoughtful face,
Imparting, in its glad embrace,
Beauty to beauty, grace to grace!
Fair Nature's book together read,
The old wood-paths that knew our tread,
The maple shadows overhead,--
The hills we climbed, the river seen
By gleams along its deep ravine,--
All keep thy memory fresh and green.
Where'er I look, where'er I stray,
Thy thought goes with me on my way,
And hence the prayer I breathe to-day;
O'er lapse of time and change of scene,
The weary waste which lies between
Thyself and me, my heart I lean.
Thou lack'st not Friendship's spell-word, nor
The half-unconscious power to draw
All hearts to thine by Love's sweet law.
With these good gifts of God is cast
Thy lot, and many a charm thou hast
To hold the blessed angels fast.
If, then, a fervent wish for thee
The gracious heavens will heed from me,
What should, dear heart, its burden be?
The sighing of a shaken reed,--
What can I more than meekly plead
The greatness of our common need?
God's love,--unchanging, pure, and true,--
The Paraclete white-shining through
His peace,--the fall of Hermon's dew!
With such a prayer, on this sweet day,
As thou mayst hear and I may say,
I greet thee, dearest, far away!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jesus, I My Cross Have Taken
Jesus, I my cross have taken, all to leave and follow Thee.
Destitute, despised, forsaken, Thou from hence my all shall be.
Perish every fond ambition, all I’ve sought or hoped or known.
Yet how rich is my condition! God and heaven are still mine own.
Let the world despise and leave me, they have left my Savior, too.
Human hearts and looks deceive me; Thou art not, like them, untrue.
And while Thou shalt smile upon me, God of wisdom, love and might,
Foes may hate and friends disown me, show Thy face and all is bright.
Go, then, earthly fame and treasure! Come, disaster, scorn and pain!
In Thy service, pain is pleasure; with Thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called Thee, “Abba, Father”; I have set my heart on Thee:
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, all must work for good to me.
Man may trouble and distress me, ’twill but drive me to Thy breast.
Life with trials hard may press me; heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
Oh, ’tis not in grief to harm me while Thy love is left to me;
Oh, ’twere not in joy to charm me, were that joy unmixed with Thee.
Take, my soul, thy full salvation; rise o’er sin, and fear, and care;
Joy to find in every station something still to do or bear:
Think what Spirit dwells within thee; what a Father’s smile is thine;
What a Savior died to win thee, child of heaven, shouldst thou repine?
Haste then on from grace to glory, armed by faith, and winged by prayer,
Heaven’s eternal day’s before thee, God’s own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission, swift shall pass thy pilgrim days;
Hope soon change to glad fruition, faith to sight, and prayer to praise.
poem by Henry Francis Lyte
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Discipline
THROW away Thy rod,
Throw away Thy wrath;
O my God,
Take the gentle path!
For my heart's desire
Unto Thine is bent:
I aspire
To a full consent.
Not a word or look
I affect to own,
But by book,
And Thy Book alone.
Though I fail, I weep;
Though I halt in pace,
Yet I creep
To the throne of grace.
Then let wrath remove;
Love will do the deed;
For with love
Stony hearts will bleed.
Love is swift of foot;
Love 's a man of war,
And can shoot,
And can hit from far.
Who can 'scape his bow?
That which wrought on Thee,
Brought Thee low,
Needs must work on me.
Throw away Thy rod;
Though man frailties hath,
Thou art God:
Throw away Thy wrath!
poem by George Herbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!