The French Revolution as it appeared to Enthusiasts
. Oh! pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood
Upon our side, we who were strong in love!
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven!--Oh! times,
In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways
Of custom, law, and statute, took at once
The attraction of a country in romance!
When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights,
When most intent on making of herself
A prime Enchantress--to assist the work
Which then was going forward in her name!
Not favoured spots alone, but the whole earth,
The beauty wore of promise, that which sets
(As at some moment might not be unfelt
Among the bowers of paradise itself )
The budding rose above the rose full blown.
What temper at the prospect did not wake
To happiness unthought of? The inert
Were roused, and lively natures rapt away!
They who had fed their childhood upon dreams,
The playfellows of fancy, who had made
All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength
Their ministers,--who in lordly wise had stirred
Among the grandest objects of the sense,
And dealt with whatsoever they found there
As if they had within some lurking right
To wield it;--they, too, who, of gentle mood,
Had watched all gentle motions, and to these
Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more wild,
And in the region of their peaceful selves;--
Now was it that both found, the meek and lofty
Did both find, helpers to their heart's desire,
And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish;
Wcre called upon to exercise their skill,
Not in Utopia, subterranean fields,
Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where!
But in the very world, which is the world
Of all of us,--the place where in the end
We find our happiness, or not at all!
poem by William Wordsworth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Book Eleventh: France [concluded]
FROM that time forth, Authority in France
Put on a milder face; Terror had ceased,
Yet everything was wanting that might give
Courage to them who looked for good by light
Of rational Experience, for the shoots
And hopeful blossoms of a second spring:
Yet, in me, confidence was unimpaired;
The Senate's language, and the public acts
And measures of the Government, though both
Weak, and of heartless omen, had not power
To daunt me; in the People was my trust:
And, in the virtues which mine eyes had seen,
I knew that wound external could not take
Life from the young Republic; that new foes
Would only follow, in the path of shame,
Their brethren, and her triumphs be in the end
Great, universal, irresistible.
This intuition led me to confound
One victory with another, higher far,--
Triumphs of unambitious peace at home,
And noiseless fortitude. Beholding still
Resistance strong as heretofore, I thought
That what was in degree the same was likewise
The same in quality,--that, as the worse
Of the two spirits then at strife remained
Untired, the better, surely, would preserve
The heart that first had roused him. Youth maintains,
In all conditions of society,
Communion more direct and intimate
With Nature,--hence, ofttimes, with reason too--
Than age or manhood, even. To Nature, then,
Power had reverted: habit, custom, law,
Had left an interregnum's open space
For 'her' to move about in, uncontrolled.
Hence could I see how Babel-like their task,
Who, by the recent deluge stupified,
With their whole souls went culling from the day
Its petty promises, to build a tower
For their own safety; laughed with my compeers
At gravest heads, by enmity to France
Distempered, till they found, in every blast
Forced from the street-disturbing newsman's horn,
For her great cause record or prophecy
Of utter ruin. How might we believe
That wisdom could, in any shape, come near
Men clinging to delusions so insane?
And thus, experience proving that no few
Of our opinions had been just, we took
Like credit to ourselves where less was due,
And thought that other notions were as sound
Yea, could not but be right, because we saw
That foolish men opposed them.
To a strain
More animated I might here give way,
And tell, since juvenile errors are my theme,
What in those days, through Britain, was performed
To turn 'all' judgments out of their right course;
But this is passion over-near ourselves,
Reality too close and too intense,
And intermixed with something, in my mind,
Of scorn and condemnation personal,
That would profane the sanctity of verse.
Our Shepherds, this say merely, at that time
Acted, or seemed at least to act, like men
Thirsting to make the guardian crook of law
A tool of murder; they who ruled the State--
Though with such awful proof before their eyes
That he, who would sow death, reaps death, or worse,
And can reap nothing better--child-like longed
To imitate, not wise enough to avoid;
Or left (by mere timidity betrayed)
The plain straight road, for one no better chosen
Than if their wish had been to undermine
Justice, and make an end of Liberty.
But from these bitter truths I must return
To my own history. It hath been told
That I was led to take an eager part
In arguments of civil polity,
Abruptly, and indeed before my time:
I had approached, like other youths, the shield
Of human nature from the golden side,
And would have fought, even to the death, to attest
The quality of the metal which I saw.
What there is best in individual man,
Of wise in passion, and sublime in power,
Benevolent in small societies,
And great in large ones, I had oft revolved,
Felt deeply, but not thoroughly understood
By reason: nay, far from it; they were yet,
As cause was given me afterwards to learn,
Not proof against the injuries of the day;
Lodged only at the sanctuary's door,
Not safe within its bosom. Thus prepared,
And with such general insight into evil,
And of the bounds which sever it from good,
As books and common intercourse with life
Must needs have given--to the inexperienced mind,
When the world travels in a beaten road,
Guide faithful as is needed--I began
To meditate with ardour on the rule
And management of nations; what it is
And ought to be; and strove to learn how far
Their power or weakness, wealth or poverty,
Their happiness or misery, depends
Upon their laws, and fashion of the State.
O pleasant exercise of hope and joy!
For mighty were the auxiliars which then stood
Upon our side, us who were strong in love!
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very Heaven! O times,
In which the meagre, stale, forbidding ways
Of custom, law, and statute, took at once
The attraction of a country in romance!
When Reason seemed the most to assert her rights
When most intent on making of herself
A prime enchantress--to assist the work,
Which then was going forward in her name!
Not favoured spots alone, but the whole Earth,
The beauty wore of promise--that which sets
(As at some moments might not be unfelt
Among the bowers of Paradise itself)
The budding rose above the rose full blown.
What temper at the prospect did not wake
To happiness unthought of? The inert
Were roused, and lively natures rapt away!
They who had fed their childhood upon dreams,
The play-fellows of fancy, who had made
All powers of swiftness, subtilty, and strength
Their ministers,--who in lordly wise had stirred
Among the grandest objects of the sense,
And dealt with whatsoever they found there
As if they had within some lurking right
To wield it;--they, too, who of gentle mood
Had watched all gentle motions, and to these
Had fitted their own thoughts, schemers more mild,
And in the region of their peaceful selves;--
Now was it that 'both' found, the meek and lofty
Did both find, helpers to their hearts' desire,
And stuff at hand, plastic as they could wish,--
Were called upon to exercise their skill,
Not in Utopia,--subterranean fields,--
Or some secreted island, Heaven knows where!
But in the very world, which is the world
Of all of us,--the place where, in the end,
We find our happiness, or not at all!
Why should I not confess that Earth was then
To me, what an inheritance, new-fallen,
Seems, when the first time visited, to one
Who thither comes to find in it his home?
He walks about and looks upon the spot
With cordial transport, moulds it and remoulds,
And is half-pleased with things that are amiss,
'Twill be such joy to see them disappear.
An active partisan, I thus convoked
From every object pleasant circumstance
To suit my ends; I moved among mankind
With genial feelings still predominant;
When erring, erring on the better part,
And in the kinder spirit; placable,
Indulgent, as not uninformed that men
See as they have been taught--Antiquity
Gives rights to error; and aware, no less
That throwing off oppression must be work
As well of License as of Liberty;
And above all--for this was more than all--
Not caring if the wind did now and then
Blow keen upon an eminence that gave
Prospect so large into futurity;
In brief, a child of Nature, as at first,
Diffusing only those affections wider
That from the cradle had grown up with me,
And losing, in no other way than light
Is lost in light, the weak in the more strong.
In the main outline, such it might be said
Was my condition, till with open war
Britain opposed the liberties of France.
This threw me first out of the pale of love;
Soured and corrupted, upwards to the source,
My sentiments; was not, as hitherto,
A swallowing up of lesser things in great,
But change of them into their contraries;
And thus a way was opened for mistakes
And false conclusions, in degree as gross,
In kind more dangerous. What had been a pride,
Was now a shame; my likings and my loves
Ran in new channels, leaving old ones dry;
And hence a blow that, in maturer age,
Would but have touched the judgment, struck more deep
Into sensations near the heart: meantime,
As from the first, wild theories were afloat,
To whose pretensions, sedulously urged,
I had but lent a careless ear, assured
That time was ready to set all things right,
And that the multitude, so long oppressed,
Would be oppressed no more.
But when events
Brought less encouragement, and unto these
The immediate proof of principles no more
Could be entrusted, while the events themselves,
Worn out in greatness, stripped of novelty,
Less occupied the mind, and sentiments
Could through my understanding's natural growth
No longer keep their ground, by faith maintained
Of inward consciousness, and hope that laid
Her hand upon her object--evidence
Safer, of universal application, such
As could not be impeached, was sought elsewhere.
But now, become oppressors in their turn,
Frenchmen had changed a war of self-defence
For one of conquest, losing sight of all
Which they had struggled for: up mounted now,
Openly in the eye of earth and heaven,
The scale of liberty. I read her doom,
With anger vexed, with disappointment sore,
But not dismayed, nor taking to the shame
Of a false prophet. While resentment rose
Striving to hide, what nought could heal, the wounds
Of mortified presumption, I adhered
More firmly to old tenets, and, to prove
Their temper, strained them more; and thus, in heat
Of contest, did opinions every day
Grow into consequence, till round my mind
They clung, as if they were its life, nay more,
The very being of the immortal soul.
This was the time, when, all things tending fast
To depravation, speculative schemes--
That promised to abstract the hopes of Man
Out of his feelings, to be fixed thenceforth
For ever in a purer element--
Found ready welcome. Tempting region 'that'
For Zeal to enter and refresh herself,
Where passions had the privilege to work,
And never hear the sound of their own names.
But, speaking more in charity, the dream
Flattered the young, pleased with extremes, nor least
With that which makes our Reason's naked self
The object of its fervour. What delight!
How glorious! in self-knowledge and self-rule,
To look through all the frailties of the world,
And, with a resolute mastery shaking off
Infirmities of nature, time, and place,
Build social upon personal Liberty,
Which, to the blind restraints of general laws,
Superior, magisterially adopts
One guide, the light of circumstances, flashed
Upon an independent intellect.
Thus expectation rose again; thus hope,
From her first ground expelled, grew proud once more.
Oft, as my thoughts were turned to human kind,
I scorned indifference; but, inflamed with thirst
Of a secure intelligence, and sick
Of other longing, I pursued what seemed
A more exalted nature; wished that Man
Should start out of his earthy, worm-like state,
And spread abroad the wings of Liberty,
Lord of himself, in undisturbed delight--
A noble aspiration! 'yet' I feel
(Sustained by worthier as by wiser thoughts)
The aspiration, nor shall ever cease
To feel it;--but return we to our course.
Enough, 'tis true--could such a plea excuse
Those aberrations--had the clamorous friends
Of ancient Institutions said and done
To bring disgrace upon their very names;
Disgrace, of which, custom and written law,
And sundry moral sentiments as props
Or emanations of those institutes,
Too justly bore a part. A veil had been
Uplifted; why deceive ourselves? in sooth,
'Twas even so; and sorrow for the man
Who either had not eyes wherewith to see,
Or, seeing, had forgotten! A strong shock
Was given to old opinions; all men's minds
Had felt its power, and mine was both let loose,
Let loose and goaded. After what hath been
Already said of patriotic love,
Suffice it here to add, that, somewhat stern
In temperament, withal a happy man,
And therefore bold to look on painful things,
Free likewise of the world, and thence more bold,
I summoned my best skill, and toiled, intent
To anatomise the frame of social life;
Yea, the whole body of society
Searched to its heart. Share with me, Friend! the wish
That some dramatic tale, endued with shapes
Livelier, and flinging out less guarded words
Than suit the work we fashion, might set forth
What then I learned, or think I learned, of truth,
And the errors into which I fell, betrayed
By present objects, and by reasonings false
From their beginnings, inasmuch as drawn
Out of a heart that had been turned aside
From Nature's way by outward accidents,
And which was thus confounded, more and more
Misguided, and misguiding. So I fared,
Dragging all precepts, judgments, maxims, creeds,
Like culprits to the bar; calling the mind,
Suspiciously, to establish in plain day
Her titles and her honours; now believing,
Now disbelieving; endlessly perplexed
With impulse, motive, right and wrong, the ground
Of obligation, what the rule and whence
The sanction; till, demanding formal 'proof',
And seeking it in every thing, I lost
All feeling of conviction, and, in fine,
Sick, wearied out with contrarieties,
Yielded up moral questions in despair.
This was the crisis of that strong disease,
This the soul's last and lowest ebb; I drooped,
Deeming our blessed reason of least use
Where wanted most: 'The lordly attributes
Of will and choice,' I bitterly exclaimed
'What are they but a mockery of a Being
Who hath in no concerns of his a test
Of good and evil; knows not what to fear
Or hope for, what to covet or to shun;
And who, if those could be discerned, would yet
Be little profited, would see, and ask
Where is the obligation to enforce?
And, to acknowledged law rebellious, still,
As selfish passion urged, would act amiss;
The dupe of folly, or the slave of crime.'
Depressed, bewildered thus, I did not walk
With scoffers, seeking light and gay revenge
From indiscriminate laughter, nor sate down
In reconcilement with an utter waste
Of intellect; such sloth I could not brook,
(Too well I loved, in that my spring of life,
Pains-taking thoughts, and truth, their dear reward)
But turned to abstract science, and there sought
Work for the reasoning faculty enthroned
Where the disturbances of space and time--
Whether in matters various, properties
Inherent, or from human will and power
Derived--find no admission. Then it was--
Thanks to the bounteous Giver of all good!--
That the beloved Sister in whose sight
Those days were passed, now speaking in a voice
Of sudden admonition--like a brook
That did but 'cross' a lonely road, and now
Is seen, heard, felt, and caught at every turn,
Companion never lost through many a league--
Maintained for me a saving intercourse
With my true self; for, though bedimmed and changed
Much, as it seemed, I was no further changed
Than as a clouded and a waning moon:
She whispered still that brightness would return;
She, in the midst of all, preserved me still
A Poet, made me seek beneath that name,
And that alone, my office upon earth;
And, lastly, as hereafter will be shown,
If willing audience fail not, Nature's self,
By all varieties of human love
Assisted, led me back through opening day
To those sweet counsels between head and heart
Whence grew that genuine knowledge, fraught with peace,
Which, through the later sinkings of this cause,
Hath still upheld me, and upholds me now
In the catastrophe (for so they dream,
And nothing less), when, finally to close
And seal up all the gains of France, a Pope
Is summoned in, to crown an Emperor--
This last opprobrium, when we see a people,
That once looked up in faith, as if to Heaven
For manna, take a lesson from the dog
Returning to his vomit; when the sun
That rose in splendour, was alive, and moved
In exultation with a living pomp
Of clouds--his glory's natural retinue--
Hath dropped all functions by the gods bestowed,
And, turned into a gewgaw, a machine,
Sets like an Opera phantom.
Thus, O Friend!
Through times of honour and through times of shame
Descending, have I faithfully retraced
The perturbations of a youthful mind
Under a long-lived storm of great events--
A story destined for thy ear, who now,
Among the fallen of nations, dost abide
Where Etna, over hill and valley, casts
His shadow stretching towards Syracuse,
The city of Timoleon! Righteous Heaven!
How are the mighty prostrated! They first,
They first of all that breathe should have awaked
When the great voice was heard from out the tombs
Of ancient heroes. If I suffered grief
For ill-requited France, by many deemed
A trifler only in her proudest day;
Have been distressed to think of what she once
Promised, now is; a far more sober cause
Thine eyes must see of sorrow in a land,
To the reanimating influence lost
Of memory, to virtue lost and hope,
Though with the wreck of loftier years bestrewn.
But indignation works where hope is not,
And thou, O Friend! wilt be refreshed. There is
One great society alone on earth:
The noble Living and the noble Dead.
Thine be such converse strong and sanative,
A ladder for thy spirit to reascend
To health and joy and pure contentedness;
To me the grief confined, that thou art gone
From this last spot of earth, where Freedom now
Stands single in her only sanctuary;
A lonely wanderer, art gone, by pain
Compelled and sickness, at this latter day,
This sorrowful reverse for all mankind.
I feel for thee, must utter what I feel:
The sympathies erewhile in part discharged,
Gather afresh, and will have vent again:
My own delights do scarcely seem to me
My own delights; the lordly Alps themselves,
Those rosy peaks, from which the Morning looks
Abroad on many nations, are no more
For me that image of pure gladsomeness
Which they were wont to be. Through kindred scenes,
For purpose, at a time, how different!
Thou tak'st thy way, carrying the heart and soul
That Nature gives to Poets, now by thought
Matured, and in the summer of their strength.
Oh! wrap him in your shades, ye giant woods,
On Etna's side; and thou, O flowery field
Of Enna! is there not some nook of thine,
From the first play-time of the infant world
Kept sacred to restorative delight,
When from afar invoked by anxious love?
Child of the mountains, among shepherds reared,
Ere yet familiar with the classic page,
I learnt to dream of Sicily; and lo,
The gloom, that, but a moment past, was deepened
At thy command, at her command gives way;
A pleasant promise, wafted from her shores,
Comes o'er my heart: in fancy I behold
Her seas yet smiling, her once happy vales;
Nor can my tongue give utterance to a name
Of note belonging to that honoured isle,
Philosopher or Bard, Empedocles,
Or Archimedes, pure abstracted soul!
That doth not yield a solace to my grief:
And, O Theocritus, so far have some
Prevailed among the powers of heaven and earth,
By their endowments, good or great, that they
Have had, as thou reportest, miracles
Wrought for them in old time: yea, not unmoved,
When thinking on my own beloved friend,
I hear thee tell how bees with honey fed
Divine Comates, by his impious lord
Within a chest imprisoned; how they came
Laden from blooming grove or flowery field,
And fed him there, alive, month after month,
Because the goatherd, blessed man! had lips
Wet with the Muses' nectar.
Thus I soothe
The pensive moments by this calm fire-side,
And find a thousand bounteous images
To cheer the thoughts of those I love, and mine.
Our prayers have been accepted; thou wilt stand
On Etna's summit, above earth and sea,
Triumphant, winning from the invaded heavens
Thoughts without bound, magnificent designs,
Worthy of poets who attuned their harps
In wood or echoing cave, for discipline
Of heroes; or, in reverence to the gods,
'Mid temples, served by sapient priests, and choirs
Of virgins crowned with roses. Not in vain
Those temples, where they in their ruins yet
Survive for inspiration, shall attract
Thy solitary steps: and on the brink
Thou wilt recline of pastoral Arethuse;
Or, if that fountain be in truth no more,
Then, near some other spring--which, by the name
Thou gratulatest, willingly deceived--
I see thee linger a glad votary,
And not a captive pining for his home.
poem by William Wordsworth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paradise
Could it be the little
Things you do to me
Feelings that I'm feeling
Are so new to me
I'm going through
So many changes
Nothing ever felt
As strange as
How my heart goes
Crazy when you
Look at me-oh
[CHORUS:]
When I'm with you
Its paradise
No place on Earth
Could be so nice
Through the crystal waterfalls
I hear you call
Just take my hand
Its paradise
You kiss me once
I'll kiss you twice
And as I gaze
Into your eyes
I realise its paradise
Now I know the
Sweetest dreams can
All come true
'Cause I found Heaven
Here on earth
When I found you
Its nothing I could
Ever make up
How I hope
I never wake up
Just to find this
Isn't true reality
[Repeat chorus]
The world around just
Disappears without a trace
Telling me that I have
Found the perfect place
Let it stay this way forever
Deep in love and may
I never
Spend another day
Without you close to me
Ooh paradise
Yeah
Oh just take my hand
Its paradise
You kiss me once
I'll kiss you twice
And as I gaze
Into your eyes
I realise its paradise
[Repeat chorus]
Ooh paradise
song performed by by Kaci from Paradise
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Trying To Get To Her
Trying to get to her
To tell her that there is so much in my mind
That I want her to know
She is now in heaven with Alan
That happiness that was finally found
There are no mountains low enough for them
No roads wide enough for them
Yes peace surrounds them everyday
Yes I still have there love in my heart, my mind, and my soul
Birds are singing for them in heaven
A song
So peaceful
So beautiful and relaxing to hear
They never get tired of hearing it
God is now on their side
Protecting them and keeping their spirit alive
Their soul is at rest in heaven
The sun always shines in heaven during the day
But at night it is a different thing
The moon and the stars come out in full force
Heaven is a paradise for them
They found it a long time a go
What else could be more beautiful than heaven?
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Heaven And Earth
when heaven and earth i can no longer see
my GOD will be in front of me.
and when my GOD says it's time to die
i know that he'll be by my side.
and when the sun ceases to shine
i know that i will feel his love divine.
and when this earth no longer exists
i will feel his heavenly bliss.
heaven and earth is just a step away
either we do it right, or we come back to pay.
they say that heaven is here on earth
and mankind takes it for all its worth.
when i look to the heavens and see the beauty
of the sky, then i know the reason why.
why i was put on this earth
and why to me, my mother gave birth.
she gave me birth so that i can see
all the beauties that GOD put here for me.
heaven and earth are in unison as one
just like the sky is to the sun.
just like the crops are to the soil
through mans sacrifice and toil.
here on earth the LORD had said
is where you'll come to rest your head.
but in my kingdom of heaven
what you thought was impossibilities
you now will see living in immortality.
you will no longer have the human frailities
and emotions such as hate, envy, sadness, bitterness
sickness and desires, they will all go away
but other things will stay
such as love, joy and happiness
and a desire to help the ones we leave behind
and in hopes that they could find
the meanings of the words that GOD has spoken
and pull out all these inner emotions.
heaven and earth is here and now
in your heart, it will be found.
poem by Louis Rams
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A Breath of Heaven
*~*
Every now and then,
when the world sits just right ~
a gentle breath of heaven
fills my soul with delight,
and I sigh,
as the sun brings its morning,
its gift of warmth to chase the chill ~
from the crook of night's arms
arising o'er that far hill,
and I know,
heaven smiles,
and I smile, too,
for life can be hard
while the dreams are few.
Yet, every now and then,
when the world sits just right ~
that gentle breath of heaven
fills my soul with delight,
and I see,
a turning of a leaf
dancing in the autumn's sun,
and a brilliant shade of crimson
glowing when the day is done,
and I sigh,
as the rose that stands alone,
thrives where no others thrive.
A rare bouquet of one ~
still strong, still alive,
and I know,
that even in the shadows
heaven catches, unaware,
those blinded by visions
of hatred and despair,
and I see,
a promise of tomorrow
in that wind around the bend,
as it carries a dream of hope ~
with no hate or pain to tend,
and I pray,
as every now and then,
when this world sits just right ~
that gentle breath of heaven
fills my soul with delight,
and I smile...I smile.
*~*
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let Me Wake Up Young
Let me wake up young at early dawn again
And welcome the showers of spring first rain
Let me love and peer up at the morning sun
With half shut eyes and comfortable fresh cheek
Let me live a sweet life tale full often to seek
Through meadows and pathless woods where rivers fall and run
Let me love again my brightest beautiful one
Of heaven and divine let me slowly speak
These love tunes to the night and the starlight meek
Or the moon, if that her hunting be begun
Let me know, let me relive these delights and be prone
To moralize upon a smile and a tear
And find at once a region in a world of my own
A meadow, a bower for my spirit where it will steer
To alleys of forest gloom where pine tree dropp their cone
Where foxes hide, robins chirp and leaves are fallen sere
Let me wake up in strength and vigor hope
Worship the morning, the mystic night, the light the shade and lush lea on slope
Let me glance again fresh on wide plains, fair foliage trees, and at sprouting flowers
Call on birds over clear streams, smooth calm lakes, and long stretched bowers
Let me lost in the happiness of pathless woods with tall towers
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Our Saviour’s Boyhood
With what a flood of wondrous thoughts
Each Christian breast must swell
When, wandering back through ages past,
With simple faith they dwell
On quiet Nazareth’s sacred sod,
Where the Child Saviour’s footsteps trod.
Awe-struck we picture to ourselves
That brow serene and fair,
That gentle face, the long rich curls
Of wavy golden hair,
And those deep wondrous, star-like eyes,
Holy and calm as midnight skies.
We see Him in the work-shop shed
With Joseph, wise and good,
Obedient to His guardian’s word,
Docile and meek of mood;
The Mighty Lord of Heaven and Earth
Toiling like one of lowly birth.
Or else, with His young Mother fair—
That sinless, spotless one,
Who watched with fond and reverent care,
Her high and glorious Son,
Knowing a matron’s joy and pride,
And yet a Virgin pure beside.
All marvelled at the strange, shy grace
Of Mary’s gentle Son;
Young mothers envied her the Boy
Who love from all hearts won;
And, gazing on that face so mild,
Prayed low to Heaven for such a child.
Though with the boys of Nazareth
He never joined in mirth,
Yet young and old felt strangely drawn
Towards His modest worth;
E’en though that quiet, wondrous Child,
Had never laughed nor even smiled.
For even then prophetic rose
Before His spirit’s gaze
The cruel Cross, the griefs reserved
For manhood’s coming days,
And, worse than all, the countless host
That, spite His pangs, might yet be lost.
Silent and calm, He held His way
From morn till evening still;
His thoughts intent on working out
His Mighty Father’s will;
While Heaven bent in ecstasy,
O’er the Boy-God of Galilee.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happiness
I was born with so much love I burst each time the sun rises
I reserved the hurt I feel to make happy suprises
In my heaven here on earth I found my paradise
All the laughter in my heart I credit to your smile
Happiness is seeing all the stars in your eyes
Happiness is knowing you are loved
I berode the fears I had and sorted them all out
Took a love offered me and pushed away the dark
In my heaven here on earth I found my paradise
What a satisfying feeling reaching for the skies
Happiness is seeing all the stars in your eyes
Happiness is knowing you are loved
(instrumental break)
Oh oh oh, in my heaven here on earth I found my paradise
What a satisfying feeling reaching for the skies
Happiness is seeing all the stars in your eyes
Happiness is knowing you are loved
I berode the fears I had and sorted them all out
Took a love offered me and pushed away the dark
In my heaven here on earth I found my paradise
What a satisfying feeling reaching for the skies
Happiness is seeing all the stars in your eyes
My happiness is knowing you are loved
(instrumental part until end)
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Happiness Is
happiness
is bliss
happiness,
is when you get a new puppy
happiness,
is when you get married
happiness,
is when you go on you first date
happiness,
is making your own decisions
happiness,
is graduating
happiness,
is getting you first job
happiness,
is falling in love
happiness
is being proud of who you are
happiness
is bliss
happiness,
is glowing
happiness,
is fun
happiness,
is an amazing feeling
happiness,
is when you smile all day
happiness,
is giving someone a hug just because you can
happiness,
is that light in your eyes
happiness,
is what makes the world go around
happiness,
is bliss
Top Of The World
Such a feelins comin over me
There is wonder in most everything I see
Not a cloud in the sky
Got the sun in my eyes
And I wont be surprised if its a dream
Everything I want the world to be
Is now coming true especially for me
And the reason is clear
Its because you are here
Youre the nearest thing to heaven that Ive seen
(*) Im on the top of the world lookin down on creation
And the only explanation I can find
Is the love that Ive found ever since youve been around
Your loves put me at the top of the world
Something in the wind has learned my name
And its tellin me that things are not the same
In the leaves on the trees and the touch of the breeze
Theres a pleasin sense of happiness for me
There is only one wish on my mind
When this day is through I hope that I will find
That tomorrow will be just the same for you and me
All I need will be mine if you are here
Repeat (*) twice
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love, your happiness is my happiness.....
My life's greatest happiness is to be convinced my love to you
I am grateful to you for making me happy through out my life
I have never known love until I met you and your love touched
my heart and brought so much happiness in me
Today, you made me to see everything in a new life and you
want me to know how those happiness could make me happy
I found my happiness is to love you and to be loved from you
Sometime, I miss you so much and your absence is very painful
But when I carry your heart within me then my happiness is shining
When I am sad then your sweet words brings me happiness
and my soul get enough strength when it join your heart
When my heart wants to know the meaning of ' love'
then your love is making me to believe the truth of love
Without you there is no happiness in my life and with you
my life is full of hopes and my dream will come true
When you hold me in your arms then my heart
never want to let me go because your happiness is
my happiness. I love you so much my love.
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Reason To Smile
Life is precious hold on to life so tight
The happiness is right there hold on so tight
Don't say I can't you will find a way
Do not wait someone or a reason to make you smile
The happiness lies right there within your heart
No one will care if you are happy or not
Just keep smile and you will find out
The shining light through the dark
Just believe in the strength of your faith
So soon you'll find out that there are millions of ways
To turn the small point of the light largest then the dark to light up your chilly nights
Just smile to life and it will return back the smile
Don't wait for a reason or someone to come to your life may make you smile
I've found my way to happiness through my way to the god
When I found out being alive itself is enough to hold on to life
The happiness lies there inside everyone of us
Say I'm happy and you will find the out
That you don't need a reason to make you smile
Can't you see that your life is a gift from god above
Try to celebrate your life
And praise the god
Build a big home within your heart just for the love
Just trust the god and every new day you will find a new reason that makes you smile
The life is precious enough to make you smile
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Not For Love
If not for love, who would be kissed?
Romance itself would not exist.
A billion songs would not be penned
And poetry would have an end.
The arts that we enjoy right now,
Would fade away in time somehow -
For who would sculpt and who would paint
Without the patience of a saint?
And what's a saint without a heart
That's full of love it would impart?
If not for love, no child would smile.
No queue would stand in single file.
No please, no thanks or God bless you!
No promise kept, no credit due,
No holding hands or soft caress,
No hope, no peace, no happiness,
No fervent prayer would reach God's Throne...
We would feel lost and so alone...
The world would spin and time would pass,
But life would be a foolish farce...
Not one of us would find life safe
Without strong heroes to be brave.
We know that emptiness within
Brings apathy that leads to sin.
There comes a parting of the ways -
There always is, if no-one prays...
If not for love, no rose would grow,
Because each rose would somehow know
If love had died, what use to live?
For who would buy and who would give?
If love left Earth and we lived on,
How soon before we sensed it gone?
An hour, a day, a week or more?
To tell the truth, I'm not quite sure!
For no-one wants to hold my hand
Or kiss my lips as I had planned...
In fact, upon my funeral...
I wonder who would care at all...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Women of the world (english)
We men know only one thing.
What is it that we want? We want a woman!
And it all ends there; we don't know how to get you,
Where to find you and what to do to please you?
And when we do, we still do not understand you completely.
We do not know what to say and when to say it.
Nor do we know how to keep that spark lost in the storm.
If anyone knows this, he is truly a wise and lucky man.
Women of the world,
never be discouraged you've not found love.
There's always someone who does,
they're just too shy and scared to let you know, in their own way.
Women of the world,
there is beauty within each one of you.
It takes the right man to find it, to bring it out.
Just like the way a key opens a lock.
Women of the world,
Every where you go, you turn heads twice.
Not as objects of desire,
but as a unique display of beauty, different from the other.
Women of the world,
there are many secretly admiring you.
Hiding and thinking about you,
but you somehow have a way of making them known.
Women of the world,
for you, they sell flowers so colourful and sweet smelling.
They’re a reminder, to thank you for being a part of their world,
not a comparison to the subtlety you hold.
Women of the world,
for you communication goes beyond its abilities.
There’s just no stopping, to get what we get from you,
that certain happiness when you acknowledge and thank us.
Women of the world,
you're the reason men be men.
You’re the hope to know they aren't alone amongst a crowd.
You're the lines on his palm that tells him,
he's the man he wants to be.
Women of the world,
when you look into a man's eyes,
do you see what he gets from you?
Because what you see is what you get.
Women of the world,
be patient with the one in love with you.
It takes him time to understand you well.
You’re not as easy to please as we thought it would.
Women of the world,
Love the man for being so patient with you.
It's hard to put all the pieces of what we think, is a puzzle.
He tries all ways, sometimes even the wrong ways
to tell you, that you're understood.
Be proud, he has tried and tries again.
Women of the world,
for you, there is sadness in a man's heart.
For you he weeps, losing you once,
for you he's in misery, losing you again.
Women of the world,
Every where there is beauty, there is a heart pleased.
For you, the strongest men become as soft as a kiss.
Knowing they can run, back into your arms.
Women of the world,
You’re the one that holds the fruit of tomorrow.
For their smile and walk will be yours,
to carry on what you have taught them.
Women of the world,
there is no greater worldly love we get from you,
than that which comes from within.
It's priceless, but more importantly, a precious gift.
Women of the world,
remember every time you do something,
you're leaving a thought of kindness and compassion,
in a person's life that needs it.
Women of the world,
you're the reason wonderful stories exist.
Also, the reasons most stories have an ending.
You're a gift From the Almighty, to be our companion.
The purpose there’s gaps between our fingers.
Women of the world,
you're the reason a man leaves his mother and father,
to be united with you and become one.
Because of you we fall into deep sleep.
Woman of the world,
If you did not exist, I’m sure all men
would’ve ended up in hell.
Help us to know and love you more.
Women of the world,
For each one of you I dedicate this poem,
I have learned more just by knowing you,
Yet, I know so little.
-Lloydoftherings
poem by Lloydoftherings Fletcher
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Joy of Giving (Opinion)
THE JOY OF GIVING
Joy is a much sought after emotion welcomed and cherished by us all. We are joyful when incidents liked by us take place and incidents disliked by us do not take place. And that, persons near and dear to us, and their expression of love and affection, cause joy to us. We feel that joy causing things are outside us in this physical world. This is all a perception of joy.
Spirituality says joy is inherent in us and is our nature; rather we are the form and personification of joy. And joy and cheerfulness are our natural states of mind. Whenever pleasant things happen to us or unpleasant things do not happen, we are joyful, because then we are our Self, released of our ego.
But most of the times we expect others or things outside in the physical world to cause joy to us. Thus we are dependent on outside things and persons for joy to be experienced; and are joyless when such things do not happen. The real joy lies in our giving joy to our near and dear.
If we know that what all we are giving our near and dear is actually we are giving ourselves, we will just do that to be joyful.
In Narada Bhakti Sutras this aspect is very well expressed and highlighted.
The sutra is; “tat sukha sukhitvam”. “finding our happiness in giving happiness to our near and dear”.
This is a spiritual action full of significance. By doing so we are transcending our ego and are absorbing our ego in providing happiness to our near and dear.
Thus Gopikas (shepherd damsels) found their happiness in giving happiness to Sri Krishna. They have been very joyful when giving happiness to Sri Krishna and are thus blissful themselves. This secret of getting joy by giving joy to our near and dear must be noted by us all and make ourselves joyful by making our near and dear joyful.
We normally are intolerant of or indifferent to words, actions or thoughts expressed by our loved ones and are egoistic in our dealings with them. We love ourselves most. It is wise to love our loved ones more than we love ourselves. Actually if we love our near and dear, this happens automatically. Only when we do not love, and try making ourselves joyful all by ourselves, we run into problems and cause problems to our loved ones.
The best and shrewd way of being joyful is making our near and dear joyful by our words, thoughts, deeds and cheering and cheerful spirit and finding our joy in such gestures.
Many also say that contributing to charity, speaking lovingly and without hurting, being compassionate to all living and non-living beings gives happiness. Ordinary human beings may not have such wider horizon. If we find our joy in making our near and dear joyful the world will be much pleasant place to live. Let us practice giving joy and make it the art of living.
poem by Varanasi Ramabrahmam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Your First Rose?
Someone use to remember loved once after many years (first rose-First love) that we never forget. Looking for it again hence nothing can accomplishes first love. Time has changed every things...
____________________________________ ______________________
Where your first rose?
Where your first rose?
I know you looking for it
But you cannot find...
Where your first rose?
I know you having forget it
Somewhere that you don’t know...
Where your first rose?
Hiding some where
You cannot ever reach...
Where your first rose?
Beneath someone heart
That you don’t know the person...
Where your first rose?
That cherish for ever
You forget to rescue it...
Where your first rose?
That you need to smell it
But you didn’t...
Where your first rose?
Smell like angels perfume
You once smell...
Where your first rose?
That you looking every where
Run away from you...
Where your first rose?
That born together in every soul
But you chased away...
Where your first rose?
That gives you happiness
Forever and forever...
Where your first rose?
That you kissed it every day
When you have it...
Where your first rose?
That you still looking for it
After many years left by...
Where your first rose?
That gives you every thing
Warm, happiness and true love...
Where your first rose?
That only dedicated you
By a true angel on earth...
Where your first rose?
You will have it never
Again with jealous eyes...
Where your first rose?
That gives to you
Behalf of true love...
Where your first rose?
That’s become a disappear
After you say no...
Where your first rose?
That has an ocean deep of value
You value it forever...
Where your first rose?
Away from you now
That’s you call every day...
Where your first rose?
You call by dreams
But really cannot touch...
Where your first rose?
You call by name
But didn’t hear your voice...
Where your first rose?
Whispering with you
Every nights and days...
Where your first rose?
That sung a songs ever nights
To lullaby...
Where your first rose?
That you don’t know
where its still...
That’s with me
By
O.W.Palitha Ariyarathna
Copyright, O.W. Palitha Ariyarathna.2010
All Rights Reserved By Author: 2010
poem by Palitha Ariyarathna
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A Rose of Summer
She is a Rose of Summer, a spirit of love
A rose among the thorns, so is my love for her among the crowd
An island in the terrifying sea, so is my offering for her
We sit down in our very hearts at rest, love like nectar
Embracing her in times of need in a blanket of passion
Stay with me my rose, for I am tired and weary of the world
Let me gaze into your heart, and live in paradise
I love you, my Rose of Summer, out of all the world
In these graceful fields, we'll stay until we please
poem by Joseph Shofner
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A Perfect World
In a perfect world,
Death would never be.
Life would be forever
And last eternally.
In a perfect world
You'd still be by our side,
Lighting up our happy lives.
You never would have died.
In a perfect world,
Sadness would not be found.
Love and life, and happiness
Forever would abound.
We Believe that perfect world
Awaits us when we die.
A world where eternal bliss
Is found in Heaven's sky.
We'll cling to faith and hope,
For God is a God of love.
And then in time we'll join you
In that perfect world above.
poem by Ron Tranmer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Top Of The World
(r carpenter/j. bettis)
Such a feelings coming over me
There is wonder in most everything I see
Not a cloud in the sky
Got the sun in my eyes
And I wont be surprised if its a dream
Evrything I want the world to be
Is now coming true especially for me
And the reason is clear
Its because you are here
Youre the nearest thing
To heaven that Ive seen
Chorus:
Im on the top of the world lookin
Down on creation and the only explanation
I can find
Is the love that Ive found
Ever since youve been around
Your loves put me at the top of the world
Something in the wind has learned my name
And its tellin me that things are not the same
In the leaves on the trees
And the touch of the breeze
Theres a pleasin sense of happiness for me
There is only one wish on my mind
When this day is through
I hope that I will find
That tomorrow will be
Just the same for you and me
All I need will be mine if you are here
(repeat chorus 2x)
song performed by by Lea Salonga
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happiness dwells in the soul (poem)
“Happiness resides not in possessions, and not in gold, ”
“The feeling of happiness dwells in the soul.” Aristotle Wise
words from a wise philosopher
What stirs up the soul, to warm the heart, and sets the spirit free?
Is it baby’s first word, - a promotion at work, or just to be - little ole
Me?
Some of us are in search of a world of perceptual bliss
However, here on Earth this world just simply does not exist
Along with the good times, we must learn to live with the bad
Living to make a wrong, right, a feeling of happiness we
Magically add
To turn a hopeless frown, into a new awaking smile,
Is when you discover a solution, which needs to be nourished
With a walk - of an additional mile
Do not look at your brother and see, - All of the external bad
Look inside to see - all of the good, - this is what will make you
Glad
Barry Mcquire’s big hit of the ’60s “Eve of destruction'
Was challenged by The Spokesmen’s “Dawn of correction”
The moral of this story is “When life sets your mind into
Troublesome swirls”
Remember! “Happiness” is a treasure hidden deep within,
For we have to dive - for pearls
poem by Dave Tanguay
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