The Table Turned
Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and clear your looks;
Why all this toil and trouble?
The sun, above the mountain's head,
A freshening lustre mellow
Through all the long green fields has spread,
His first sweet evening yellow.
Books! 'tis a dull and endless strife:
Come, hear the woodland linnet,
How sweet his music! on my life,
There's more of wisdom in it.
And hark! how blithe the throstle sings!
He, too, is no mean preacher:
Come forth into the light of things,
Let Nature be your teacher.
She has a world of ready wealth,
Our minds and hearts to bless--
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health,
Truth breathed by cheerfulness.
One impulse from a vernal wood
May teach you more of man,
Of moral evil and of good,
Than all the sages can.
Sweet is the lore which Nature brings;
Our meddling intellect
Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things:--
We murder to dissect.
Enough of Science and of Art;
Close up those barren leaves;
Come forth, and bring with you a heart
That watches and receives.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Related quotes
Abandon your books
These lines I would have sent to a beautiful maid that over toiled herself with books, till her radiant face gathered dust and spider web wreathed upon her hair:
Oh listen to the falling rain and shake your dusty looks
Why all this toil and languid trouble?
Oh this swirling slanting rain, abandon your books
You will grow bold and double
The glorious sun above the mountain's head
A freshening luster mellow,
through all the long green fields has spread,
his first sweet evening yellow
Oh leave your books this is a dull and endless strife
come and listen to the woodland linnet,
how sweet his music; on our life
there is more of wisdom in it
But hash! how blithe the throstle sings
And he is no mean preacher
Come forth into the lights of natural things
Let nature be your teacher
Oh nature through rain, sun and wind has a world of ready wealth
our craving minds and questioning hearts to bless
Spontaneous wisdom breathed by health
Truth! , Truth breathed by cheerfulness
One impulse from a vernal wood
may teach you more of mankind and of man;
of moral evil and of good
then all the dead sages can
Sweet is the lore which nature brings;
our meddling intellect
Misshapes and misplaces the beauteous forms of things
we would murder to dissect
Enough of science and of distilled art;
Close these books, these barren leaves
Come forth and bring with you a heart
that throbs, that watches that thrives and receives
copy rights 2010
One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good, Than all the sages can.
quote by William Wordsworth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flight To Nature
SICK of the crowd, the toil, the strife,
Sweet Nature, how I turn to thee,
Seeking for renovated life,
By brawling brook and shady tree!
I knew thy rocks had spells of old,
To soothe the wanderer's woe to calm,
And in thy waters, clear and cold,
My fev'rish brow would seek for balm.
I've bent beneath thy ancient oak,
And sought for slumber in its shade,
And, as the clouds above me broke,
I dream'd to find the boon I pray'd;
For light--a blessed light--was given,
Wide streaming round me from above,
And in the deep, deep vaults of heaven,
There shone, methought, a look of love.
And, through the long, long summer hours,
When every bird had won its wing,
How sweet to think, amidst thy flowers,
That youth might yet renew its spring;--
That sacred season of the heart,
When every pulse with hope is strong,
And, still untaught by selfish art,
Truth fears no guile, and love no wrong.
And who, but nature's self, could yield
The blessing in the prayer I made,
Throned in her realm of wood and field,
Of rocky realm and haunted shade?
Who, but that magic queen, whose sway
Drives winter from his path of strife,
Whilst all her thousand fingers play,
With bud and bird, in games of life!
With these a kindred life I ask,--
Not wealth that mortals vainly seek;
But, in heaven's sunshine let me bask,
My heart as glowing as my cheek;--
An idle heart, that would not heed
That chiding voice, when duty comes,
To drag the soul, but freshly freed,
Back to cold toils and weary glooms.
No lure she finds in mortal schemes,
Which wiser fancies still reprove,--
Far happier in her woodland dreams,
With one sweet teacher, taught by love!
Thou, Nature, that magician be,
Restore each dream that taught the boy,
That warm'd his hope, that made him free,
While wisdom took the shape of joy;
And I will bless thee with a song,
As fond as hers, that idle bird,
That sings above me all day long,
As if she knew I watch'd and heard.
poem by William Gilmore Simms
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Forms of Wealth
To money is attributed wealth
But the open truth of wealth
Is, It is not the only kind of wealth—
There are also other forms of wealth!
Good health is the best form of wealth
Forging rich links in relationships is wealth
Spontaneous love for all life forms is wealth
To have enthusiasm in life is wealth.
Acquiring life-long learning is wealth
Experience and wisdom in life is wealth
Meeting new people is also wealth
Visiting new places too is authentic wealth.
The quest to explore something is wealth
To have a positive mind-set is wealth
Existence of deep internal peace is wealth
Early morning waking up with joy is wealth.
Possessing high self-respect is wealth
Having strong spiritual connection is wealth
There exist so many types of wealth
Constitute all these and you're with full wealth!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Retirement
My gentle friend! I hold no creed so false
As that which dares to teach that we are born
For battle only, and that in this life
The soul, if it would burn with starlike power,
Must needs forsooth be kindled by the sparks
Struck from the shock of clashing human hearts.
There is a wisdom that grows up in strife,
And one -- I like it best -- that sits at home
And learns its lessons of a thoughtful ease.
So come! a lonely house awaits thee! -- there
Nor praise, nor blame shall reach us, save what love
Of knowledge for itself shall wake at times
In our own bosoms; come! and we will build
A wall of quiet thought, and gentle books,
Betwixt us and the hard and bitter world.
Sometimes -- for we need not be anchorites --
A distant friend shall cheer us through the Post,
Or some Gazette -- of course no partisan --
Shall bring us pleasant news of pleasant things;
Then, twisted into graceful allumettes,
Each ancient joke shall blaze with genuine flame
To light our pipes and candles; but to wars,
Whether of words or weapons, we shall be
Deaf -- so we twain shall pass away the time
Ev'n as a pair of happy lovers, who,
Alone, within some quiet garden-nook,
With a clear night of stars above their heads,
Just hear, betwixt their kisses and their talk,
The tumult of a tempest rolling through
A chain of neighboring mountains; they awhile
Pause to admire a flash that only shows
The smile upon their faces, but, full soon,
Turn with a quick, glad impulse, and perhaps
A conscious wile that brings them closer yet,
To dally with their own fond hearts, and play
With the sweet flowers that blossom at their feet.
poem by Henry Timrod
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My Friend the Teacher
Your thoughtful, you’re smart, you’re wise
You’re caring, you’re generous, you don’t despise
With words of wisdom like a preacher
For you’re my friend the teacher
~~~
You’re the light, you’re the prophecy, you’re a guiding star
You’re helpful, your supportive, you care from afar
Teaching others that help has no end
For you’re the teacher my friend
~~~
Now as you look into students eyes hoping to see a sign of yearning
Knowing that you teaching is a fun way of learning
For its larger then any mathematical equation
Clearer then any English sensation
~~~
More knowledgeable then any kind of world history
Even more decipherable then any scientific mystery
More lenient then any P.E. criteria
Even more tempting then any food from a cafeteria
~~~
Because with words of wisdom like a preacher
You’re my friend the teacher
Still teaching others that help has no end
You’re the teacher my friend
poem by Poetic Philosopher
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The Vanity of Wealth
No more thus brooding o'er yon heap,
With avarice painful vigils keep:
Still unenjoy'd the present store,
Still endless sighs are breathed for more.
O! quit the shadow, catch the prize,
Which not all India's treasure buys!
To purchase with heaven has gold the power?
Can gold remove the mortal hour?
In life can love be bought with gold?
Are friendship's pleasures to be sold?
No! - all that's worth a wish - a thought,
Fair virtue gives unbribed, unbought,
Cease then on trash thy hopes to bind,
Let noble views engage thy mind.
With science tread the wondrous way,
Or learn the Muses' moral lay;
In social hours indulge thy soul,
Where mirth and temperance mix the bowl;
To virtuous love resign thy breast,
And be, by blessing beauty, - bless'd.
Thus taste the feast by Nature spread,
Ere youth and all its joys are fled;
Come taste with me the balm of life,
Secure from pomp, and wealth, and strife.
I boast whate'er for man was meant,
In health, and Stella, and content;
And scorn! (oh! let that scorn be thine!)
Mere things of clay, that dig the mine.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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Cup-Shower
In this life,
There is always a teacher to teach yxou if you want to learn;
But, you need a 'Cup-Shower' and a candlelight to clean up your mind.
In this life,
There is always a teacher to teach you if only if you are ready to learn;
For, it takes a step forward to reach out to the heart of someone!
And, my mind is waiting for you.
The food prepared in the morning is about to be eaten,
And there is always a student when, a teacher is ready to teach;
So, be abased to my sweet muse when you are touched!
For, my sweet love is zooming around you.
Accomplishments,
With the calmness of a muse so sweet that touches you!
For, there is always a teacher if you want to learn;
But, to win a continental laurel means a lot,
However, the truth of life is always around you! !
And, you don't need these forbidding mountains to teach you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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To ----, with flowers
Go, ye sweet messengers,
To that dim-lighted room,
Where lettered wisdom from the walls
Sheds a delightful gloom;
Where sits in thought profound,
One in the noon of life,
Whose flashing eye and fevered brow
Tell of the inward strife;
Who in those wells of lore,
Seeks for the pearls of truth,
And to Ambition's fever dream
Gives his repose and youth.
To him, sweet ministers,
Ye shall a lesson teach, --
Go in your fleeting loveliness
More eloquent than speech.
Tell him in laurel wreaths
No perfume e'er is found,
And that upon a crown of thorns
Those leaves are ever bound.
Thoughts fresh as your own hues
Bear ye to that abode, --
Speak of the sunshine and the sky,
Of Nature and of God.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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GOOD and BAD
There seems to be a discrepancy
about what is good or bad.
It depends upon who you are
and what it is you have had.
Good to some is the nature of things
and how it makes you feel.
Bad to some is how nature sings
because they want to steal
the beauty of it for their own vicious use.
And good to them is all their abuse
to things that grow and things that thrive
and so they apply their ruse.
The thievery of resources for greed and wealth,
The teaching of lies to ruin your health,
The addition of poisons in what you eat,
The killing of wildlife whose lives they cheat,
The excuses for nuclear energy
to power what we could have for free.
So good, bad what does it mean?
Not too much in our everyday scene.
Nature's been taken for granted today.
But always nature will have the last say.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I'd Like To Know More About Nature
I'd like to know more about Nature for of Nature so little i know
Though we see the beauty she creates and the beautiful things she does grow
Her rill that is born by the mountain flows downland by many a hedgerow
And it swells into a mighty river and on towards the ocean does flow.
I'd like to know more about Nature for Nature is an amazing thing
The song bird who sings in your garden sings the same song his father did sing
This is just one wonder of Nature how a small bird remembers a song
And passes it on through his genes to his offsprings a secret that to Nature belong.
I'd like to know more about Nature for of Nature i know little at all
Though i just like billions of others can recognize some birds and animals by their call
Great human minds have studied Nature but they only do learn to realize
That there is far more to our Earth Mother far more to her than meets our eyes.
I'd like to know more about Nature though i look at her every day
She guards her secrets with secrecy and from us she hides them away
And those who say they know all of Nature are those who do broadcast a lie
And Nature she lives on forever and we like all of her life forms must die.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Contented Man
"How good God is to me," he said;
"For have I not a mansion tall,
With trees and lawns of velvet tread,
And happy helpers at my call?
With beauty is my life abrim,
With tranquil hours and dreams apart;
You wonder that I yield to Him
That best of prayers, a grateful heart?"
"How good God is to me," he said;
"For look! though gone is all my wealth,
How sweet it is to earn one's bread
With brawny arms and brimming health.
Oh, now I know the joy of strife!
To sleep so sound, to wake so fit.
Ah yes, how glorious is life!
I thank Him for each day of it."
"How good God is to me," he said;
"Though health and wealth are gone, it's true;
Things might be worse, I might be dead,
And here I'm living, laughing too.
Serene beneath the evening sky
I wait, and every man's my friend;
God's most contented man am I . . .
He keeps me smiling to the End."
poem by Robert William Service
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A Friend Is Most Important!
Confidence, courage and guidance friend gives to one;
To a friend only one can confide anything in the world;
Such a friend only can be with one till the end of life!
If there is no friend who can be a friend to one here?
Father or mother can be a friend to a friendless person;
Otherwise Nature is the best friend for one in the world.
Without them only conscience can be a friend to one;
Knowledge from books is a best friend to one anywhere!
If anything is of no use then only God is the sure friend!
Shakespeare, Dickens, Homer and Vyasa have said all
About friends, their activities in life for heroes in stories!
Love and friendship are most important in life for anyone.
Knowledge and ideas of great books and friends are ever
Indeed of great help in life and hope, virtue and power!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Everyday
Written by jay kay, toby smith and stuart zender
Yes I do
Baby, maybe, we can spend a little time together now that were alone
So long I have been waiting
Now cant you let me take you home
All these things we do
Will make our dreams come true
You want me, and I surely want you
Tell me where you want to go
Tell me what I need to know
To take you on a little ride
Hold me, control me
Let me circumnavigate your body mind and soul
Like a, seed from a flower
I can grow and you must know
Sadness, dont mean a thing
Cos you and me girl,
You know were in the swing,
All the things that I want to get with
You on a midsummer night
In the evening light
The sweet evening light
All these things we do
Will make our dreams come true
I want you, you want me
I surely need you baby
And so far what weve done
Has made our lives become
Something more than
Evening light to make it right
All, all I want from you baby,
Is sweet loving now,
No, I know, yes, I know
I know what I want from you girl
We can make it right
We can hold onto each other tight
Lose your inhibitions
Yeh, yeh, yeh, yeh
Every little thing we do is right
Every little thing you see is sweet
Every little part of you Id like to meet
I want you girl, you know I want you
I want you in the evening light
song performed by by Jamiroquai
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Good teacher
A Good teacher is one, who teaches with love.
A Good teacher is one, who Corrects Students and make them Grow, Instead of shouting and making them slow.
A Good teacher is one, who makes Things to Flow.
A Good teacher is one, who gets things done as and when.
A Good teacher is one, who never treats a student as Foe.
A Good teacher is one, who Teachings must help in long Run.
A Good teacher is one, who says always it can be done.
A Good teacher is one, who should never make students Run, Instead have Great Fun.
A Good teacher is one, who must be always Bright and Teach Students Right.
A Good teacher is one, who is always a best Friend
poem by Narendra Kuppan
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Between The Rapids
The point is turned; the twilight shadow fills
The wheeling stream, the soft receding shore,
And on our ears from deep among the hills
Breaks now the rapid's sudden quickening roar.
Ah yet the same, or have they changed their face,
The fair green fields, and can it still be seen,
The white log cottage near the mountain's base,
So bright and quiet, so home-like and serene?
Ah, well I question, for as five years go,
How many blessings fall, and how much woe.
Aye there they are, nor have they changed their cheer,
The fields, the hut, the leafy mountain brows;
Across the lonely dusk again I hear
The loitering bells, the lowing of the cows,
The bleat of many sheep, the stilly rush
Of the low whispering river, and through all,
Soft human tongues that break the deepening hush
With faint-heard song or desultory call:
Oh comrades hold; the longest reach is past;
The stream runs swift, and we are flying fast.
The shore, the fields, the cottage just the same,
But how with them whose memory makes them sweet?
Oh if I called them, hailing name by name,
Would the same lifts the same old shouts repeat?
Have the rough years, so big with death and ill,
Gone lightly by and left them smiling yet?
Wild black-eyed Jeanne whose tongue was never still,
Old wrinkled Picaud, Pierre and pale Lisette,
The homely hearts that never cared to range,
While life's wide fields were filled with rush and change.
And where is Jacques, and where is Verginie?
I cannot tell; the fields are all a blur.
The lowing cows whose shapes I scarcely see,
Oh do they wait and do they call for her?
And is she changed, or is her heart still clear
As wind or morning, light as river foam?
Or have life's changes borne her far from here,
And far from rest, and far from help and home?
Ah comrades, soft, and let us rest awhile,
For arms grow tired with paddling many a mile.
The woods grow wild, and from the rising shore
The cool wind creeps, the faint wood odours steal;
Like ghosts down the rivers blackening floor
The misty fumes begin to creep and reel.
Once more I leave you, wandering toward the night,
Sweet home, sweet heart, that would have held me in;
Whither I go I know not, and the light
Is faint before, and rest is hard to win.
Ah sweet ye were and near to heaven's gate;
But youth is blind and wisdom comes too late.
Blacker and loftier grow the woods, and hark!
The freshening roar! The chute is near us now,
And dim the canyon grows, and inky dark
The water whispering from the birchen prow.
One long last look, and many a sad adieu,
While eyes can see and heart can feel you yet,
I leave sweet home and sweeter hearts to you,
A prayer for Picaud, one for pale Lisette,
A kiss for Pierre, my little Jacques, and thee,
A sigh for Jeanne, a sob for Verginie.
Oh, does she still remember? Is the dream
Now dead, or has she found another mate?
So near, so dear; and ah, so swift the stream;
Even now perhaps it were not yet too late.
But oh, what matter; for before the night
Has reached its middle, we have far to go:
Bend to your paddles, comrades; see, the light
Ebbs off apace; we must not linger so.
Aye thus it is! Heaven gleams and then is gone
Once, twice, it smiles, and still we wander on.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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I Went For A Walk
I went for a walk on the lake-side path today
And so disappointed am I for to say
That the lake is covered in blue green algae from end to end
To Nature few humans have been a good friend.
Fertilizer spread by farmers on their crops and washed into creek and drain
In thundery weather by heavy showers of rain
Cause blue green algae on the still waters to grow
Though others with more knowledge of Natural Science than I claim they know
That ducks help to spread blue green algae on a lake
Though the ducks side on this one I surely must take
For I do find that rather hard to believe
And for the pollution of Nature a reason to grieve.
For the health of our Earth Mother too few seem to care
Pollution of land and of water and air
And due to habitat destruction wildlife becoming rare
And too few 'twould seem are environmentally aware.
I went for a walk on the path by the lake
And I felt disappointed for our Earth Mother's sake
To see the lake covered in blue green algae from end to end
To Nature few humans have been a good friend.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Cuckoo’s Melody Vavroovahana Patra
Cuckoo’s sweet melody echoes in profound solitude, reverberates in silent atmosphere;
The sweet tune vibrates in the environment, contents poet’s desire.
Fragrance of mango-blossoms pervades through the vernal breeze;
Poet enchants in the lap of Nature being crazy.
Divinity reigns through the melody on Earth;
Earthy creatures rejoice with mirth.
Poet surrenders on the feet of mother Vinapanee, the Deity;
Depicts beauteous verses with gaiety.
Through the vernal breeze goddess mother Basantee blessth all innocent honest creatures;
Penetrating rays of wisdom contents their desires.
Cuckoo’s marvelous melody brings inspiration;
Beauteous is goddess mother’s creation.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Sonnet: We Need God’s Blessings in All Things We Do
You need to plan in advance, well in life,
To do a lot of things you undertake;
No one predicts when comes our unique strife;
You ought to know the technique to bake cake.
Man’s planning is not very accurate;
The human mind is good but not too good;
Depends on weather, how you navigate;
More things can go awry, if bad is mood.
Though you may plan and do things so perfect,
God’s blessings must be there to bring success;
All things are wrought by not man’s intellect;
God’s help can make problems surely less.
You plan and toil to achieve many things;
But pray to God to bless your work, earthlings!
5-31-2000
poem by John Celes
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Two Wise Men
there is a legacy, an old legacy of two books
the old books of ancient
the ancient wisdom
of two men
two wise men
with good hearts
and good minds
one by name of Luqman
and the other man
is the great porphet-king Solomon
I didn't find these two books
but I found
THe wise words
of these two men
The songs
of wisdom's book
pouring from the heaven
to the heart
the MAN with NO FAITH in ALLAH
is NO MAN
BE faithful then your illness is all gone
THere is holy obligation upon man
care for parents as they care
then be fair free from bias
upon your self
upon your men
or your enemy
you will win; then and ofter
in this life
and thereafter
poem by Sallam Yassin
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