posted on April 16, 2001 10:14:44 AM
There is so much beauty at this time of the year here in the Northeast, the mantle of winter is finally shed, buds are forming on the trees, birds are singing and green is the garment of choice all around. If a young mans fancy turns to thoughts of love, mine turns to poetry. I thought we might spend some time sharing favorite verses that have in some way touched your heart or soul. The first poem that I read by Longfellow was this uplifting....
A PSALM OF LIFE
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;--
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
posted on April 16, 2001 10:25:56 AMHere lies the body of Mary Lee Died at the age of a hundred and three For thirty-three years she kept her virginity Not a bad record for this vicinity
posted on April 16, 2001 10:28:03 AMHere lies the body of our Anna Done to death by a banana It wasn't the fruit that laid her low But the skin of the thing that made her go
posted on April 16, 2001 03:18:28 PM
This certainly colors my view...
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
-- The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
posted on April 16, 2001 03:41:09 PM
~ Procrastination ~
One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon -- instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today. Dale Carnegie
posted on April 16, 2001 04:04:18 PM
LindaK, that is one of my favorites, too. How poignant and the analogy we are the bows, children living arrows. Makes my heart sing.
posted on April 16, 2001 05:47:57 PM
Borillar that is very touching....here is another less than happy but so touching that it makes me weep.
LITTLE BOY BLUE
By Eugene Field
The Little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and stanch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And the musket moulds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new,
And the soldier was passing fair;
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.
"Now, don't you go till I come," he said,
"And don't you make any noise!"
So, toddling off to his trundle-bed,
He dreamt of his pretty toys;
And, as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue--
Oh! the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true!
Aye, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place--
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face;
And they wonder, as waiting the long years through
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue,
Since he kissed them and put them there.
posted on April 16, 2001 08:01:25 PM
An excerpt from Tennyson's "Ulysses" that I have always admired. After his return to Ithaca and settling domestic affairs, Tennyson's Ulysses decides to once again hit the seas.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains; but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
posted on April 16, 2001 08:46:15 PM
Can't remember who this is by anymore, but if anyone recognizes it please let me know.
Oh God of earth and alter
Bow down and hear our cry;
Our earthly rulers falter-
Our people drift and die
The walls of gold entomb us-
The swords of scorn divide.
Take not thy thunder from us-
Take away our pride.
Borillar, isn't that from "The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner"?
Rick
In the begining, God created the heavens and the earth.
posted on April 16, 2001 08:50:10 PM
And this one also-I had posted in the Bush/Virgil thread, but didn't let anyone know that I say it to my wife every month on our annerversary.
TITYRUS
By Virgil
This night, at least, with me forget your care;
Chestnuts and curds and cream shall be your fare;
The carpet-ground shall be with leaves o'er spread;
And boughs shall weave a cov'ring for your head.
For see yon sunny hill the shade extends;
And curling smoke from cottages ascends.
Always gives her "warm fuzzies", even after all these years.
Rick
In the begining, God created the heavens and the earth.
posted on April 16, 2001 08:52:58 PM
I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us -- don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
posted on April 16, 2001 09:23:48 PM
Touching! Not Groping....I knew there was a word that would fit HJW's southern sensibilities better!
[ edited by zilvy on Apr 16, 2001 09:30 PM ]
I enjoy Samuel Taylor Coleridge's poems as well as reading Milton's "Paradise Lost" and the works of Shakesphere. If nothing else ever gets accomplished by Humanity, these will be sufficient IMO.
posted on April 17, 2001 06:15:23 AMSunrise, Sunset>>>>>>> I live on the morning side of the mountain, and you live on the sunset side of the hill.....
Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future
And time future contained in time past.
('Burnt Norton')
In my beginning is my end. In succession
Houses rise and fall, crumble. are extended,
Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place
Is an open field or a factory, or a by-pass
('East Coker')
an improvement on "sunrise sunset"..tired of
hearing it.
Helen
edited to remove smile's
[ edited by HJW on Apr 17, 2001 07:05 AM ]
posted on April 17, 2001 07:25:19 AM
Excerpt from Tennyson's
Charge Of The Light Brigade
'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd ?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Puts things in perspective when your smithyriddles get in a knot!
