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The Searching Soul.
Slowly slowly my heart is drifting away
I don’t seem to understand anything anymore
Since you left to unknown
Your voice is all I want to hear
I had my full strong heart
But now it was changed from hard
Heart to dazed and broken heart
I don't know how to express these harsh
Abubakar Mohammed Musa
Strange thoughts come to the man alone;
'Tis then, if ever, he talks with God,
And views himself as a single clod
In the soil of life where the souls are grown.
Edgar Albert Guest
Mon Reve Familier [english]
Oft do I dream this strange and penetrating dream:
An unknown woman, whom I love, who loves me well,
Who does not every time quite change, nor yet quite dwell
The same,-and loves me well, and knows me as I am.
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
The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device-
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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.
A Rainy Day
Oh, what a blessed interval
A rainy day may be!
No lightning flash nor tempest roar,
But one incessant, steady pour
Addressed to Francis Greenleaf Allison of Burlington, New Jersey.
You scarcely need my tardy thanks,
Who, self-rewarded, nurse and tend--
John Greenleaf Whittier
To The Unknown Goddess
Will you conquer my heart with your beauty; my sould going out from afar?
Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautions shikar?
Have I met you and passed you already, unknowing, unthinking and blind?
“By-and-bye,” the maiden sighed-”by-and-bye
He will claim me for his bride,
Hope is strong and time is fleet;
Youth is fair, and love is sweet,
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
'See, Daphne, see!' Florelio cried,
'And learn the sad effects of pride;
Yon shelter'd rose, how safe conceal'd!
How quickly blasted when reveal'd!
Dear love, if you and I could sail away,
With snowy pennons to the wind unfurled,
Across the waters of some unknown bay,
And find some island far from all the world;
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
After an address to Malvina, the daughter of Toscar, Ossian proceeds to relate his own expedition to FuÃ¤rfed, an island of Scandinavia. Mal-orchol, king of FuÃ¤rfed, being hard pressed in war by Ton-thormod, chief of Sar-dronto (who had demanded in vain the daughter of Mal-orchol in marriage,) Fingal sent Ossian to his aid. Ossian, on the day after his arrival, came to battle with Ton-thormod, and took him prisoner. Mal-orchol offers his daughter, Oina-morul, to Ossian; but he, discovering her passion for Ton-thormod, generously surrenders her to her lover, and brings about a reconciliation between the two kings.
She was all alone
songs and books were her only friends
To all others she was unknown
Her miseries could never end.
Visit Of The Dead
Thy soul shall find itself alone
Alone of all on earth, unknown
The cause, but none are near to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Edgar Allan Poe
Nine months in my mother's womb was the most wonderful phase of her life, And my first step into the unknown then- Was the most beautiful moment she cherished; Unawareness and uncertainties my future held- Yet she did all that she could do to make it bright and beautiful. But only if dreams could turn into reality, I would have been a better child to her then;
I shattered her hopes and dreams- Compelled her to walk the path of guilt and shame, And now she only
sits wondering, where she went wrong, That transformed me to a person who now hardly remembers Mother's sweet songs.
Importance of my life has vanished, In the fog of wants and selfishness- Getting high and getting my kicks, Are the things that I now only embrace; I steal, I cheat and manipulate, Just to get the substance of my choice, I do weird and unsocial acts- Just to satisfy my Euphoric Thirst.
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:
The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
AMONG deep woods is the dismantled scite
Of an old Abbey, where the chaunted rite,
By twice ten brethren of the monkish cowl,
Was duly sung; and requiems for the soul
HARK! Young Democracy from sleep
Our careless sentries raps:
A backwash from the Futureâ??s deep
Our Evilâ??s foreland laps.
sat on the sofa
and I sat near.
The handkerchief could be yours,
the tear could be mine, chin-bound.
I weep for Adonais-he is dead!
O, weep for Adonais! though our tears
Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!
And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Under an arch of glorious leaves I passed
Out of the wood and saw the sickle moon
Floating in daylight o'er the pale green sea.
by the dynastic temple
and into the cedar grove,
and then out by the lower river,
A forward rush by the lamp in the gloom,
And we clasped, and almost kissed;
But she was not the woman whom
I had promised to meet in the thawing brume
The Nightingale's Nest
Up this green woodland-ride let's softly rove,
And list the nightingale-she dwells just here.
Hush! let the wood-gate softly clap, for fear
The noise might drive her from her home of love;
I look down the lengthening distance
Far back to youth's valley of hope.
How strange seemed the ways of existence,
How infinite life and its scope!
Ella Wheeler Wilcox
We fish, we fish, we merrily swim,
We care not for friend nor for foe.
Our fins are stout,
Our tails are out,
The Temple Of Friendship
Sacred to peace, within a wood's recess,
A blest retreat, where courtiers never press,
A temple stands, where art did never try
With pompous wonders to enchant the eye;