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The room is full of you!-As I came in
And closed the door behind me, all at once
A something in the air, intangible,
Yet stiff with meaning, struck my senses sick!-
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms,
Whose chance on these defenceless dores may sease,
She sought to breathe one word, but vainly;
Too many listeners were nigh;
And yet my timid glance read plainly
The language of her speaking eye.
Innocent Killings In Kashmir
My dear friend, I see everyday bloodshed in Kashmir.
My dear friend, I see every day in Kashmir innocent Rose's lost their lives.
My dear friend, I see everyday mother's lost their innocent Rose's in Kashmir.
My dear friend, I see everyday blood flowing in the rivers.
"Blessed be the English and all their ways and works.
Cursed be the Infidels, Hereticks, and Turks!"
"Amen," quo' Jobson, "but where I used to lie
Was neither Candle, Bell nor Book to curse my brethren by,
"Oh, show me how a rose can shut and be a bud again!"
Nay, watch my Lords of the Admiralty, for they have the work in train.
They have taken the men that were careless lads at Dartmouth in 'Fourteen
And entered them at the landward schools as though no war had been.
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
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.
Mother Of Five
She mothered five!
Night after night she watched a little bed,
Night after night she cooled a fevered head,
Day after day she guarded little feet,
Edgar Albert Guest
When I'm Killed
When I'm killed, don't think of me
Buried there in Cambrin Wood,
Nor as in Zion think of me
With the Intolerable Good.
Scenes From The Heaven [kashmir]
Oh! the dreamers of heaven, have you just dreamt of heaven?
Have you seen it? Have you felt it?
Obviously not, So here am I
Here I am the one who has seen the scenes of heaven.
Thine emulous fond flowers are dead, too,
And the daft sun-assaulter, he
That frightened thee so oft, is fled or dead:
Save only me
For failure I was well equipped
And should have come to grief,
By atavism grimly gripped,
A fool beyond belief.
Save yourself from yourself,
Become and portray yourself,
But be true to yourself.
Where run your colts at pasture?
Where hide your mares to breed?
'Mid bergs about the Ice-cap
Or wove Sargasso weed;
A Bronze Head
Here at right of the entrance this bronze head,
Human, superhuman, a bird's round eye,
Everything else withered and mummy-dead.
What great tomb-haunter sweeps the distant sky
William Butler Yeats
The forest ended. Glad I was
To feel the light, and hear the hum
Of bees, and smell the drying grass
And the sweet mint, because I had come
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.
Addressed to Francis Greenleaf Allison of Burlington, New Jersey.
You scarcely need my tardy thanks,
Who, self-rewarded, nurse and tend--
John Greenleaf Whittier
She was dragged into pain,
Her heart in bitter ordain,
And her dress, wet with tears,
That flow from heart bars,
To A Bird At Dawn
O bird that somewhere yonder sings,
In the dim hour 'twixt dreams and dawn,
Lone in the hush of sleeping things,
In some sky sanctuary withdrawn;
Richard Le Gallienne
Serve From Heart
I chase You chase,
Not to kill innocent animals,
Just to save the harvest,
Where commoner have invested.
Very beautiful, just like a dream,
Gives us awesome things, as sweet as cream.
Nature gives us many things,
As yon great Sun in his supreme condition
Absorbs small worlds and makes them all his own,
So does my love absorb each vain ambition
Each outside purpose which my life has known.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Dim, as the borrow'd beams of moon and stars
To lonely, weary, wand'ring travellers,
Is reason to the soul; and as on high,
Those rolling fires discover but the sky
The chapel looms against the sky,
Above the vine-clad shelves,
And as the peasants pass it by
They cross themselves.