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Lady that in the prime of earliest youth,
Wisely hath shun'd the broad way and the green,
What Is Love
The funny humanity of today breaks hearts
All we want is to be seen in the internet
All she wants is to wear an expensive ring
My heart is pure yet she forgets that
Oh dear !
Can our hearts the agonies smear ?
Let's be candid,
Let's be clear.
C K Rawat
I Won My Love
Looking at the bright side of her life
There was unending blossomic love
She's not alone anymore not lovelorned
She found every creature is teaching her
Same night you met me in the park
We laughed, told stories not nightmares
Brought you next to my heart
You know my sweater still smells like you
Minds are deluded but
Not from beginning
Ignorance makes it, however
Essences of mind is crystal pure.
Among the dwellers in the silent fields
The natural heart is touched, and public way
And crowded street resound with ballad strains,
Inspired by one whose very name bespeaks
It felt as if you shook me,
When you called out by my name.
Your voice brought me to my knee,
My walls burnt down to a beautiful flame.
Almost Lost My Love.
Its a pretty day today, I love days like these because the cold soothing wind that blows is a reminder of you being by my side no matter what comes. The clouds that shelter me from the sun remind me of how the thought of you keeps all the dark memories away. The slight rain feels like your kisses filled with love and compassion making me sure of good and kindness in this world
But today isn't a pretty day although it's like the ones i look forward to the most, but just like most things i ruined it.
The clouds are darker than i remember and the thougts they bring darker still.
The slight rain mirrors my eyes and no matter how much the clouds and I cry we cant wash my guilt away.
Calm as no stories heard, Days to count: in white you vowed,
Eight years together for you money mattered,
In House of God you called each other brother and sister,
You blood related, blood related, Technologies never lie
Set My Limits
I made myself limited, limited to the words eyes and attention, there was no better creation then your presentation. The presentation of your personality was what majority never had. That was what made you limited edition
I made myself scares. I was afraid to lose myself in the darkness of the world. that is why I hid in your light for safety and warmth. In your light my eyes were open. My teacher of life. It was tough love that tought me there is no such thing as love . It was you who thought me how to fight for things that could but that was pure selfish . Who was I looking for knowledge from. A greedy human who knew nothing but herself satisfaction
Come with me and you'll be
In a world of pure imagination
Take a look and you'll see
Into your imagination
What We Needed.
What does our country need? Not armies standing
With sabres gleaming ready for the fight.
Not increased navies, skillful and commanding,
To bound the waters with an iron might.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
And he showed me a pure River of Water of Life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the Throne of God and of the Lamb." -- Rev. xxii. 1
Shall we gather at the river
Robert Wadsworth Lowry
Ah, had you seen the Coolun,
Walking down by the cuckoo's street,
With the dew of the meadow shining
On her milk-white twinkling feet.
Sir Samuel Ferguson
The Maiden's Vow
(A speaker at the National Education Association advised girls not to
study algebra. Many girls, he said, had lost their souls through this
study. The idea has been taken up with enthusiasm.)
Alice Duer Miller
The Desire To Paint
Unhappy perhaps is the man, but happy the artist, who is torn with this desire.
I burn to paint a certain woman who has appeared to me so rarely, and so swiftly fled away, like some beautiful, regrettable thing the traveller must leave behind him in the night. It is already long since I saw her.
She is beautiful, and more than beautiful: she is overpowering. The colour black preponderates in her; all that she inspires is nocturnal and profound.
Her eyes are two caverns where mystery vaguely stirs and gleams; her glance illuminates like a ray of light; it is an explosion in the darkness.
Venus And Adonis
Even as the sun with purple-coloured face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn.
I ask not that my bed of death
From bands of greedy heirs be free;
For these besiege the latest breath
Of fortune's favoured sons, not me.
Lorsque, par un dÃ©cret des puissances suprÃªmes,
Le PoÃ¨te apparaÃ®t en ce monde ennuyÃ©,
Sa mÃ¨re Ã©pouvantÃ©e et pleine de blasphÃ¨mes
Crispe ses poings vers Dieu, qui la prend en pitiÃ©:
With quiet heart, I climbed the hill,
from which one can see, the city, complete,
hospitals, brothels, purgatory, hell,
prison, where every sin flowers, at our feet.
When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
The heart that I found pure long time ago,
Contaminated by changing the time,
Still online did she bothered to greet me,
Until I wave Her,
A Poem Of Faith
I think that though the clouds be dark,
That though the waves dash o'er the bark,
Yet after while the light will come,
And in calm waters safe at home
Paul Laurence Dunbar
God made a beatous garden
With lovely flowers strown,
But one straight, narrow pathway
That was not overgrown.
The chapel looms against the sky,
Above the vine-clad shelves,
And as the peasants pass it by
They cross themselves.
Just for a day you crossed my life's dull track,
Put my ignobler dreams to sudden shame,
Went your bright way, and left me to fall back
On my own world of poorer deed and aim;
'THOUGH logic-choppers rule the town,
And every man and maid and boy
Has marked a distant object down,
An aimless joy is a pure joy,'
William Butler Yeats
Not atop a hill, nor in a religious place,
Not a leader, nor a sage in a hermitage,
Not a king, nor a healer prima facie,
But in my Son, lies my Guru !
Day Is Dying
Day is dying! Float, o song,
Down the westward river,
Requiem chanting to the Day,
Day, the mighty giver!
The Secret People
Smile at us, pay us, pass us; but do not quite forget.
For we are the people of England, that never have spoken yet.
There is many a fat farmer that drinks less cheerfully,
There is many a free French peasant who is richer and sadder than we.
G. K. Chesterton
Oui, La Femme, Semblable...
Oui, la femme, semblable au doux Emmanuel,
Vers nous, des mains de Dieu, s'épancha, blanche et pure ;
Mais l'homme, être tombé, posa sa lèvre impure
Sur ce front embaumé d'un parfum immortel.
Charles Marie Rene Leconte De Lisle
To The Planet Venus
What strong allurement draws, what spirit guides,
Thee, Vesper! brightening still, as if the nearer
Thou com'st to man's abode the spot grew dearer
Night after night? True is it Nature hides
The Old Playhouse
You planned to tame a swallow, to hold her
In the long summer of your love so that she would forget
Not the raw seasons alone, and the homes left behind, but
Also her nature, the urge to fly, and the endless
Absalom And Achitophel
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin,
Before polygamy was made a sin;
When man, on many, multipli'd his kind,
Ere one to one was cursedly confin'd:
From wrath-red dawn to wrath-red dawn,
The guns have brayed without abate;
And now the sick sun looks upon
The bleared, blood-boltered fields of hate