Written in Early Spring
I heard a thousand blended notes
While in a grove I sat reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What Man has made of Man.
Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure -
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What Man has made of Man?
poem by William Wordsworth
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Lines Written In Early Spring
I HEARD a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.
Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And 'tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:---
But the least motion which they made,
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature's holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?
poem by William Wordsworth
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A Boon Nature Is For Man!
Man has to learn great lessons from not books but Nature!
Education provides just the fundamentals and foundation,
Basing which he has to build world learning from Nature.
So, he has to go out of the portals of education to Nature!
Nature is everywhere and man is part of Nature forever!
If he enjoys animal pleasure or aesthetic pleasure or
If he intellectually explores truth or mystically enjoys bliss,
If he digs or builds using Earth, it is one and the same!
Nature is living scientific art man has to explore the truth
With his heart, mind and soul through woman, art, Nature!
Five elements of Nature like air, fire, water, land and space
Man is made up of and is everywhere he has to explore!
His exploration will help him how to transform himself to spirit
And mingle himself with the all pervading spirit of bliss in Nature!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Licia Sonnets 38
Sweet, I protest, and seal it with an oath:
I never saw that so my thoughts did please;
And yet content displeased I see them wroth
To love so much and cannot have their ease.
I told my thoughts, my sovereign made a pause,
Disposed to grant, but willing to delay;
They then repined, for that they knew no cause,
And swore they wished she flatly would say nay.
Thus hath my love my thoughts with treason filled,
And 'gainst my sovereign taught them to repine.
So thus my treason all my thoughts hath killed,
And made fair Licia say she is not mine.
But thoughts too rash my heart doth now repent;
And as you please, they swear, they are content.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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Rise, Oh My Soul, With Thy Desires To Heaven
1. Rise, oh my Soul, with thy desires to Heaven,
And with Divinest contemplation, use
Thy time, where times eternity is given,
And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse:
But down in darkness let them lie,
So live thy better, let thy worse thoughts die.
2. And thou, my Soul, inspir'd with holy flame,
View and review with most regardful eye,
That holy Cross whence thy salvation came,
On which thy Saviour, and thy sin did die:
For in that Sacred object is much pleasure,
And in that Saviour is my life, my treasure.
3. To thee (O Jesu) I direct my eye,
To thee my hands, to thee my humble knees,
To thee my heart shall offer sacrifice,
To thee my thoughts, who my thoughts only sees:
To thee my self, my self and all I give;
To thee I die, to thee I only live.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Hymn
Rise, O my soul! with thy desires to heaven,
And with divinest contemplation use
Thy time, when time's eternity is given,
And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse;
But down in darkness let them lie;
So live thy better, let thy worse thoughts die.
And thou, my soul, inspired with holy flame,
View and review with most regardful eye
That holy cross whence thy salvation came,
On which thy Saviour and thy sin did die!
For in the sacred object is much pleasure,
And in that Saviour is my life treasure.
To Thee, O Jesu! I direct mine eyes,
To Thee my hands, to Thee my humble knees;
To Thee my heart shall offer sacrifice;
To Thee my thoughts, who thoughts only see;
To Thee myself, myself and all I give;
To Thee I die, to Thee I only live.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
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Thoughts Memorized
Made up face
With 'Remy' talcum powder
Smiling with a smile
Cleansed with Colgate..
But just changed for heart's curiosity
To Ponds and Pamolive
Brushing with Binaca and Forhans..
Playful choices to changes all
Fascinated fancy onto a fantasy
A season of cousins and kids
Sweet thoughts memorized..
Aged mind but matured
In a high-style-masquerade
Musing erudite thoughts
On frequencies of happy journyes
A habitual hobby of the gray
To shrines near and far
Pleasant memory mine traverses
Farther to that Lord of Batu caves
An awaiting wish of yet another chance
Sweet thoughts memorized..
But why sweet thoughts alone...?
Pricking bitter recalls
Themselves stay on to haunt
Like hovering my unhappy heart
Lamenting the loss of two poems
In frail search over and over
Shaded in my domesticity
Numbered nineteen and twenty
Lost somewhere beyond my ken
Bitter thoughts memorized..
poem by Indira Renganathan
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The Musicians
The strings of my heart were strung by Pleasure,
And I laughed when the music fell on my ear,
For he and Mirth played a joyful measure,
And they played so loud that I could not hear
The wailing and mourning of souls a-weary -
The strains of sorrow that floated around,
For my heart's notes rang out loud and cheery,
And I heard no other sound.
Mirth and Pleasure, the music brothers,
Played louder and louder in joyful glee;
But sometimes a discord was heard by others -
Though only the rhythm was heard by me.
Louder and louder, faster and faster
The hands of the brothers played strain on strain,
When all of a sudden a Mighty Master
Swept them aside; and Pain,
Pain, the musician, the soul-refiner,
Restrung the strings of my quivering heart,
And the air that he played was a plaintive minor,
So sad that the tear-drops were forced to start;
Each note was an echo of awful anguish,
As shrill as solemn, as sharp as slow,
And my soul for a reason seemed to languish
And faint with its weight of woe.
With skilful hands that were never weary,
This Master of Music played strain on strain,
And between the bars of the miserere,
He drew up the strings of my heart again,
And I was filled with a vague, strange wonder,
To see that they did not snap in two.
'They are drawn so tight, they will break assunder, '
I thought, but instead, they grew,
In the hands of the Master, firmer and stronger;
And I could hear on the stilly air -
Now my ears were deafened by Mirth no longer -
The sound of sorrow, and grief, and despair;
And my soul grew kinder and tender to others,
My nature grew sweeter, my mind grew broad,
And I held all men to be my brothers,
Linked by the chastening rod.
My soul was lifted to God and heaven,
And when on my heart-strings fell again
The hands of Mirth, and Pleasure, even,
There was never a discord to mar the strain.
For Pain, the musician, and soul-refiner,
Attuned the strings with a master hand,
And whether the music be major or minor,
It is always sweet and grand.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Middle-Age Enthusiasms
To M. H.
WE passed where flag and flower
Signalled a jocund throng;
We said: "Go to, the hour
Is apt!"--and joined the song;
And, kindling, laughed at life and care,
Although we knew no laugh lay there.
We walked where shy birds stood
Watching us, wonder-dumb;
Their friendship met our mood;
We cried: "We'll often come:
We'll come morn, noon, eve, everywhen!"
--We doubted we should come again.
We joyed to see strange sheens
Leap from quaint leaves in shade;
A secret light of greens
They'd for their pleasure made.
We said: "We'll set such sorts as these!"
--We knew with night the wish would cease.
"So sweet the place," we said,
"Its tacit tales so dear,
Our thoughts, when breath has sped,
Will meet and mingle here!"...
"Words!" mused we. "Passed the mortal door,
Our thoughts will reach this nook no more."
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Thoughts on faith & hope
Thoughts on faith & hope
~
Holding faith
against all storms
which savage the soul
~
belief in love
that it shall conquer all
no matter what
~
trust in the soul
to make right decisions
to guide you safely on
~
hope in the world
that someone watches over
protecting and caring
~
opening the heart
to friends and family alike
so as not to be alone
~
breaking silence
letting thoughts be heard
without fear of them
~
holding faith
touching the heart
and facing fear
~
a hope in time
that the good will come
and remain in place
~
thoughts given air
spoken or written
somehow, someday heard
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Nature has made the bark brown
Nature has made the bark brown
My man, my man
Nature has made the birds black
My man, my man
Nature has made the dirt dark
My man, my man.
Nature made the color of your skin
My man, my man.
poem by David E. Patton
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He asked me if I'd take a penny for my thoughts.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
and I told him the things on my mind.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
I had thought then I'd be paid in kind.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
and the closest friends we came to be.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
I thought then the one he cared for, was me.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
now rich with my thoughts he was.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
I thought his reason was more than 'just because'.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
he's made me rich with a broken heart.
A penny for your thoughts he asked,
now my life has a broken start.
Psalm 86
v.8-13
C. M.
A general song of praise to God.
Among the princes, earthly gods,
There's none hath power divine;
Nor is their nature, mighty Lord,
Nor are their works, like thine.
The nations thou hast made shall bring
Their off'rings round thy throne;
For thou alone dost wondrous things,
For thou art God alone.
Lord, I would walk with holy feet;
Teach me thine heav'nly ways,
And my poor scattered thoughts unite
In God my Father's praise.
Great is thy mercy, and my tongue
Shall those sweet wonders tell,
How by thy grace my sinking soul
Rose from the deeps of hell.
poem by Isaac Watts
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My Thoughts
Thought in the eyes,
The ears.
Thought in mind,
The brain,
Thought in heart,
The soul.
Great thought is great
when it becomes great deeds.
With my thoughts within
Building my world within
Learning with thought;
Is great learning wisdom.
Learning without thought,
Is opportunity lost.
Thought for others
Thought for God
Thought for good
Thought for God’s blessing
Thoughts teach me,
Thoughts educate me,
Thoughts clarify me,
Thoughts enlighten me.
Thoughts make me wise
Thoughts make me patience
Thoughts make me trust others
Thoughts make me clam.
Thoughts before act
Is smart and wise
Act before thoughts
Is stupid and foolish
That’s my thoughts
They make thinking clear
They make belief deepen
They make confidence high.
In thoughts, my world
In my world, make my thoughts.
In thoughts, my words
In my words, make my speech
It’s my thoughts count
Counting my thoughts
To endless counting thoughts
Thinking the thoughts endlessly
My thoughts and thoughts again.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
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To Be Fully Human!
hand to hand, brother,
our backs against the wall.
with nothing left to cling to...
but each other!
mind to mind, sister,
your thoughts free my thoughts,
my thoughts affirm yours....
understanding is the bridge....
heart to heart, my friend,
we are joined by the destiny
for which we were born....
love is the motion.
soul to soul, my family,
if you hurt i hurt,
if i need you need...
one hope, one desire....
to be fully human!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Flower Vavroovahana Pa
Flower blossoms naturally;
Beautifies nature silently.
Pervades fragrance in air;
Allures bees with pleasure.
Dazzles with sun beam;
Bees collect honey forms flowers’ stream.
Does not hesitate to flow honey;
Has made the Nature flowery.
She smiles in the lap of Nature;
Enchants the minds of poets with pleasure.
Poet’s derive inspiration;
Enjoy the beauty of creation.
A tiny flower is endowed with beauty;
Allures lovers with gaiety.
Beautiful flower tranquilises mind daily;
Deities enjoy the beauty gaily.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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The Nature
Beauty is the nature's natural name,
The nature is poet's soulful game;
Her moods, rhythms and colours frame
Heaven on the earth in poet's dream.
Picturesque orchestra of the nature's rhyme
Stirs subtle sweet passion's flame;
The nature sings in silence for all souls,
Dawns new feel of devotional whole.
Blue in the sky and green all round
How change in mood with the passing time!
Cool of breeze and warmth of sunshine
How weave rare joy in the nature's womb!
Musics of streams and chirpings of birds
Rise like hymns from the nature's trove,
Clouds afloat and smiling sweet flowers
Swing in wind to greet all souls.
Air is thick with relaxed mood,
What a thrill, what an inspiring stir
Hangs in air like the heaven's benison
And blends onlookers with the nature's soul!
The grace of god as heavenly light
Diffracts as kaleidoscopic spectrum,
A spell everywhere, arcane vibrations,
The nature's music catches like fire.
What a sweet soft madness inside,
What a sweet soft madness inside
In the nature's calm rise and fall,
In the still quietude, in the quiet simple mood!
Those simple forms, those gentle hues,
Those quiet moves, those silent songs,
Those magic spells of sweet fragrance,
What a blend, what a shocking grace!
The nature, not mere nature, a cradle of beauty,
A ladder for all divine gifts,
An open keek to the streaks of heaven
In untouched lively virgin form.
The nature is a clean mirror of the soul
Where the soul itself reflects for real,
Bright like the sun, yet soft like the moon
And refreshingly pure like the morning dews.
poem by Praveen Kumar
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Joy and Pleasure
Now, joy is born of parents poor,
And pleasure of our richer kind;
Though pleasure's free, she cannot sing
As sweet a song as joy confined.
Pleasure's a Moth, that sleeps by day
And dances by false glare at night;
But Joy's a Butterfly, that loves
To spread its wings in Nature's light.
Joy's like a Bee that gently sucks
Away on blossoms its sweet hour;
But pleasure's like a greedy Wasp,
That plums and cherries would devour.
Joy's like a Lark that lives alone,
Whose ties are very strong, though few;
But Pleasure like a Cuckoo roams,
Makes much acquaintance, no friends true.
Joy from her heart doth sing at home,
With little care if others hear;
But pleasure then is cold and dumb,
And sings and laughs with strangers near.
poem by William Henry Davies
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Discretion
AH, turn your pretty eyes away!
You would not have me love again?
Love's pleasure does not live a day,
Immortal is Love's pain,
And I am tired of pain.
I have loved once--aye, once or twice;
The pleasure died, the pain lives here;
I will not look in your sweet eyes,
I will not love you, Dear,
Lest you should grow too dear.
For I am weary and afraid.
Have I not seen why life was fair,
And known how good a world God made,
How sweet the blossoms were,
How dear the green fields were?
And I have found how life was gray,
A mist-hung road, a quest in vain,
Until once more Love smiled my way
And fooled me once again,
And taught me grief again.
Now I will gather no more grief;
I only ask to see the sky,
The budding flower, the budding leaf,
And put old dreamings by,
The dreams Love tortures by.
For, being wise, I love no more;
You, if you will, snare with those eyes
Some fool who never loved before,
And teach him to be wise!
For why should you be wise?
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A man of Character
With age, one in life's ladder escalates,
When the mind with age synchronizes.
He steps up and an exalted life portends,
He is true to life and to loftier planes transcends.
God made the beast with mind minimal,
He made man to discriminate from the animal.
Hence man should nurture profound thoughts,
As He formed the human against other lives of sorts.
His parlance sans breach should be of kind speech,
His sweet utterances the others should reach.
His deeds should function with benevolence,
He aught to ply his task with good performance.
His thoughts, locution, and action, altogether
Appropriate him to great heights as a man of character.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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My Greatest Love
I first fell in love when I was young in grade school
With nature whose magic and beauty was all around
Like a butterfly to the flowers I was drawn
Oh, the joy I felt, the joy I felt, the purest I’ve ever found.
In high school, in my mid-teen, I fell in love
With a girl whose beauty could captivate all men
Thoughts of her filled my mind everyday, every night
Oh, the joy I felt, the joy I felt was heaven.
This love was intense, and music made it more so even
Love songs and music I search the radio through the nights
‘Till I discovered the classics, the symphonies of Beethoven
Oh, the joy I felt, the joy I felt was the ultimate pleasure.
In my late teen, after much reading, thinking; the human mind
The most mysterious, complex thing; I was awed and fell in love
I couldn’t imagine the infiniteness of its wonder and beauty
Oh, the joy I felt, the joy I felt must have come from above.
Soon all this led to my greatest love before I was twenty
Since then for decades, my mind, my thoughts it’s occupied
But where is the joy I must have reaped for loving this Humanity?
Why have I instead been getting pain, sorrow and bitterness?
poem by Leonard Sims
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