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First day

I see you found my underground
Help yourself to guns and ammo
Nothing here has ever seen the light of day
I leave it in my head

It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life

You'll remember me, for the rest of your life
You'll remember me, for the rest of your life

It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life

It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life

You'll remember me, for the rest of your life
You'll remember me, for the rest of your life

It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life

It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life

It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life
It's the first day of the rest of your life

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Never seen such a sexy girl in my life

Never felt inside so much love before
Never seen such a pretty girl for sure
Baby I want to love you more and more
Never felt inside so much love before

Never seen such a sexy girl in my life
If I could make you my wife baby my wife
Baby you can make me work nine to five
Never seen such a sexy girl in my life

Never seen such styles the dresses you wear
I will love you always baby I swear
I want you so much I have got no fear
Never seen such styles the dresses you wear

Never seen so much love in those eyes
My heart is happy but my eyes cry
Song is in soul when the music dies
Never seen so much love in those eyes

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George Eliot

Brother and Sister

I.

I cannot choose but think upon the time
When our two lives grew like two buds that kiss
At lightest thrill from the bee's swinging chime,
Because the one so near the other is.

He was the elder and a little man
Of forty inches, bound to show no dread,
And I the girl that puppy-like now ran,
Now lagged behind my brother's larger tread.

I held him wise, and when he talked to me
Of snakes and birds, and which God loved the best,
I thought his knowledge marked the boundary
Where men grew blind, though angels knew the rest.

If he said 'Hush!' I tried to hold my breath;
Wherever he said 'Come!' I stepped in faith.

II.

Long years have left their writing on my brow,
But yet the freshness and the dew-fed beam
Of those young mornings are about me now,
When we two wandered toward the far-off stream

With rod and line. Our basket held a store
Baked for us only, and I thought with joy
That I should have my share, though he had more,
Because he was the elder and a boy.

The firmaments of daisies since to me
Have had those mornings in their opening eyes,
The bunchèd cowslip's pale transparency
Carries that sunshine of sweet memories,

And wild-rose branches take their finest scent
From those blest hours of infantine content.

III.

Our mother bade us keep the trodden ways,
Stroked down my tippet, set my brother's frill,
Then with the benediction of her gaze
Clung to us lessening, and pursued us still

Across the homestead to the rookery elms,
Whose tall old trunks had each a grassy mound,
So rich for us, we counted them as realms
With varied products: here were earth-nuts found,

And here the Lady-fingers in deep shade;
Here sloping toward the Moat the rushes grew,
The large to split for pith, the small to braid;
While over all the dark rooks cawing flew,

And made a happy strange solemnity,
A deep-toned chant from life unknown to me.

IV.

Our meadow-path had memorable spots:
One where it bridged a tiny rivulet,
Deep hid by tangled blue Forget-me-nots;
And all along the waving grasses met

My little palm, or nodded to my cheek,
When flowers with upturned faces gazing drew
My wonder downward, seeming all to speak
With eyes of souls that dumbly heard and knew.

Then came the copse, where wild things rushed unseen,
And black-scathed grass betrayed the past abode
Of mystic gypsies, who still lurked between
Me and each hidden distance of the road.

A gypsy once had startled me at play,
Blotting with her dark smile my sunny day.

V.

Thus rambling we were schooled in deepest lore,
And learned the meanings that give words a soul,
The fear, the love, the primal passionate store,
Whose shaping impulses make manhood whole.

Those hours were seed to all my after good;
My infant gladness, through eye, ear, and touch,
Took easily as warmth a various food
To nourish the sweet skill of loving much.

For who in age shall roam the earth and find
Reasons for loving that will strike out love
With sudden rod from the hard year-pressed mind?
Were reasons sown as thick as stars above,

'Tis love must see them, as the eye sees light:
Day is but Number to the darkened sight.

VI.

Our brown canal was endless to my thought;
And on its banks I sat in dreamy peace,
Unknowing how the good I loved was wrought,
Untroubled by the fear that it would cease.

Slowly the barges floated into view
Rounding a grassy hill to me sublime
With some Unknown beyond it, whither flew
The parting cuckoo toward a fresh spring time.

The wide-arched bridge, the scented elder-flowers,
The wondrous watery rings that died too soon,
The echoes of the quarry, the still hours
With white robe sweeping-on the shadeless noon,

Were but my growing self, are part of me,
My present Past, my root of piety.

VII.

Those long days measured by my little feet
Had chronicles which yield me many a text;
Where irony still finds an image meet
Of full-grown judgments in this world perplext.

One day my brother left me in high charge,
To mind the rod, while he went seeking bait,
And bade me, when I saw a nearing barge,
Snatch out the line lest he should come too late.

Proud of the task, I watched with all my might
For one whole minute, till my eyes grew wide,
Till sky and earth took on a strange new light
And seemed a dream-world floating on some tide -

A fair pavilioned boat for me alone
Bearing me onward through the vast unknown.

VIII.

But sudden came the barge's pitch-black prow,
Nearer and angrier came my brother's cry,
And all my soul was quivering fear, when lo!
Upon the imperilled line, suspended high,

A silver perch! My guilt that won the prey,
Now turned to merit, had a guerdon rich
Of songs and praises, and made merry play,
Until my triumph reached its highest pitch

When all at home were told the wondrous feat,
And how the little sister had fished well.
In secret, though my fortune tasted sweet,
I wondered why this happiness befell.

'The little lass had luck,' the gardener said:
And so I learned, luck was with glory wed.

IX.

We had the self-same world enlarged for each
By loving difference of girl and boy:
The fruit that hung on high beyond my reach
He plucked for me, and oft he must employ

A measuring glance to guide my tiny shoe
Where lay firm stepping-stones, or call to mind
'This thing I like my sister may not do,
For she is little, and I must be kind.'

Thus boyish Will the nobler mastery learned
Where inward vision over impulse reigns,
Widening its life with separate life discerned,
A Like unlike, a Self that self restrains.

His years with others must the sweeter be
For those brief days he spent in loving me.

X.

His sorrow was my sorrow, and his joy
Sent little leaps and laughs through all my frame;
My doll seemed lifeless and no girlish toy
Had any reason when my brother came.

I knelt with him at marbles, marked his fling
Cut the ringed stem and make the apple drop,
Or watched him winding close the spiral string
That looped the orbits of the humming top.

Grasped by such fellowship my vagrant thought
Ceased with dream-fruit dream-wishes to fulfil;
My aëry-picturing fantasy was taught
Subjection to the harder, truer skill

That seeks with deeds to grave a thought-tracked line,
And by 'What is,' 'What will be' to define.

XI.

School parted us; we never found again
That childish world where our two spirits mingled
Like scents from varying roses that remain
One sweetness, nor can evermore be singled.

Yet the twin habit of that early time
Lingered for long about the heart and tongue:
We had been natives of one happy clime
And its dear accent to our utterance clung.

Till the dire years whose awful name is Change
Had grasped our souls still yearning in divorce,
And pitiless shaped them in two forms that range
Two elements which sever their life's course.

But were another childhood-world my share,
I would be born a little sister there.

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Leave People Who Live Life Alone

Some may say I don't 'NEED'
But that I 'WANT'!
But I know what I need...
And it's you that I want.
If I say it's you that is on my mind?
I know what I'm wanting and needing,
From time to time!

Folks don't have enough to do on their own.
Why can't they leave people who live life alone?
Maybe they are the ones many try to avoid?
But that isn't complete because they are everywhere,
To annoy!
And opinions? Do they have them! Some by the case!
Sometimes whispering...
Sometimes loudly,
But it is done right in your face!
That's the disgrace...
When this is done in a public place!

Some may say I don't 'NEED'
But that I 'WANT'!
But I know what I need...
And it is you that I want!
And I'm not wanting or needing,
Us right now...
To be around them! !
Let's go!

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Robert Burns

O Tibbie, I Hae Seen The Day

Tune - "Invercauld's Reel, or Strathspey."

Choir. - O Tibbie, I hae seen the day,
Ye wadna been sae shy;
For laik o' gear ye lightly me,
But, trowth, I care na by.

Yestreen I met you on the moor,
Ye spak na, but gaed by like stour;
Ye geck at me because I'm poor,
But fient a hair care I.
O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, &c.

When coming hame on Sunday last,
Upon the road as I cam past,
Ye snufft and ga'e your head a cast-
But trowth I care't na by.
O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, &c.

I doubt na, lass, but ye may think,
Because ye hae the name o' clink,
That ye can please me at a wink,
Whene'er ye like to try.
O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, &c.

But sorrow tak' him that's sae mean,
Altho' his pouch o' coin were clean,
Wha follows ony saucy quean,
That looks sae proud and high.
O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, &c.

Altho' a lad were e'er sae smart,
If that he want the yellow dirt,
Ye'll cast your head anither airt,
And answer him fu' dry.
O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, &c.

But, if he hae the name o' gear,
Ye'll fasten to him like a brier,
Tho' hardly he, for sense or lear,
Be better than the kye.
O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, &c.

But, Tibbie, lass, tak' my advice:
Your daddie's gear maks you sae nice;
The deil a ane wad speir your price,
Were ye as poor as I.
O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, &c.

There lives a lass beside yon park,
I'd rather hae her in her sark,
Than you wi' a' your thousand mark;
That gars you look sae high.
O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, &c.

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Sought to See With Wishes Granted and Seen

I am indeed,
Not the perception...
But the belief.

I have been then conceived.
I have been freed of invisibility.
To experience and touch sensations.
Explore temptations and grow from them.
Not to become corralled or restricted,
Within barriars of sins...
Depicting those who are wicked.
Preached by those who pocket from such grief.
And cursed to smother under clouds of sorrow...
Are those who sermonize to lust and leech their evils.

What teachings would leave those to feel dark,
And gloomy?
To feed unlimited greed.

I am indeed,
Not the perception...
But the belief.

I am that spiritual connection.
Sought to see with wishes granted and seen.
Given touch to love and satisfy.
And I express these blessings with much gratefulness!

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Try For Sleep

Its four oclock in the morning, and theres a new full moon
Shining down through the trees
But dont leave the room now, leave it in doubt
Pretend not to know what Im talking about
I try, all night long
I try, I want you to come along
I feel it when you touch me, Im already wet
But how are you supposed to know what you get
Wake me when its over, but dont turn on the light
Call me by name, thats alright I try, all night long,
Ooh, I try to carry on
And, how can you go through, how can you go through
So many changes
Oh, how can you go through, how can you go through
So many changes
Its a family affair; its a family affair
Its a family affair, its a family affair, its a family affair
Try for sleep, why dont you try for sleep
Why dont you try for sleep
Im pushin the river, ready to roll
Oh, I can feel it in my soul
Give me the high light and leave out the rest
You know what they told me
They said the west is best
I try, all night long, I try to get along with
Will try for sleep, ooh try for sleep
Wont you, oh wont you come along, come along
Try for sleep, try for sleep
Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, yaaa
I want you to try for sleep
I know you will try, ooh baby
Ooh baby, baby, baby, baby, baby
(fade to end)

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Rest Of My Life

Am I the only one that feels alone
Though, all is home
Emotions flow
Am I the only one that hears the tears run down my face
Would anybody recognize at all
[CHORUS]
Cause I know
I'm so slow
But I'm trying
And I'm still dying to know
Say you won't leave for the rest of my (life)
Life's the only thing that deals the pain
Like pouring rain
Breeding hate
And I don't wanna do no wrong
My God, it's been so long
Please comfort me
Before I go insance
[CHORUS]

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Father of light, and life, and love!

Father of light, and life, and love!
Thyself to us reveal;
As saints below, and saints above,
Thy sacred presence feel.

Not with the eye of mortal sense
By angels round the throne,
Or happy souls departed hence,
Art Thou in glory known.

No sun by day, no moon by night
For this our spirits need;
Who walk by faith, and not by sight,
They feel Thee nigh indeed.

Light in thy light the blind may see,
No more by sin estranged;
Light in the Lord, so let us be
Into thine image changed.

Since Thou Thyself dost still display
Unto the pure in heart,
O make us children of the day
To know Thee as Thou art.

For Thou art light and life and love;
And thy redeemed below
May see Thee as thy saints above,
And know Thee as they know.

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If I Should Die Tomorrow And Today My Second Last Day

If i should die tomorrow and today my second last day
I should not be complaining since in life I've done okay
Never had to try to sleep hungry with the hard ground for a bed
And in all my years of living never once wished i were dead,
In a World of haves and have nots many of malnutrition die
And that everyone are equal is a World renowned lie
This World not an Utopia that fact few would deny
And i will not be complaining since few luckier than i
Tis said that poverty is a relative thing with that one must agree
And sad to say that millions live in abject poverty
I have seen a few Countries loved Nature as a boy
And i am not complaining a good life i enjoy
And if i should die tomorrow just leave me to rest in peace
from any cares or worries i will have found release.

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To Rest My Soul

With the passing of every day
Sure I see the parting of lovely way
Lot of change in the official life
Not less change in the actual life
Memory leaves to be kept in file
And to keep the life in distinct style!
End of sixty approaching fast
Work to be done is surely vast!
No more talks, no more notes
No more calls, no more quotes
No more meets, no more pains
No more meets, no more strains!
'No more file' is not 'no more life'
Brighter days to see better life!
The life is long and the world is wide
Lot of things to perform side by side
Society and home, kith and kin
Long forgotten and sent to the bin
Thread to be picked and work to be planned
Spread of good and bad sure to be scanned!
Fast life to go yielding place to new
Full of thrills and frills enjoyed by a few
I have my way, I have my goal
Fast I go to peace where I'll rest my soul!


(Thoughts of a senior official in a Public Sector organization in his early sixtieth year of age-a few months before his retirement)

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Our Life's Greatest Treasure

Met in high school, still together
when college did come.
Graduation day, a joy for us two,
together we decided to be one,
darling, just me and you.

Two years passed and with a
baby girl we were blessed, like
two birds we had started our
loving nest. She brought such
joy to us, so in God we then
put all our trust.

We decided that we needed you
at home, so you became a 'stay at
home Mom.' Such loving care you
poured into out little one and
into our growing home.

Late the following spring, God had
blessed our lives again. A little
brother for our Sara Anne. We were
so happy, so filled with joy, God's gift
to us, a baby boy.

We watched them grow, and so close
they grew, bringing so much love to
me and you. We had such strength
in our little family, there was nothing
we couldn't do, in our hearts, love
would conquer all, this we knew.

The day little Joey turned two, another
blessing, as you gave us the news.
A long nine months, as so many
troubles you had, the day came when
once again you made me a Dad.
But when the doctor gave the news,
it left us broken hearted and sad.

You grew so weak, each breath came
far and few, I prayed to God, 'honey I
knew I couldn't lose you.' I held your hand,
as the children did cling to your side,
you took that last breath, 'honey that
was the moment the biggest part
of me died.'

An infant in my arms, two more standing,
clinging onto my side, the rose petals fell
so softly onto the mound of dirt, I don't
think I have ever felt such a hurt.
Remembering the touch of your hand,
the softness in your voice, alone now I
have to do this, I have no choice.

Each day on my way to work, and to take
the kids to school, we stop and give
a rose to you. We stand by you still
each day, and silently to God we pray.
We miss your tenderness, your hugs
and your sweet kiss.

It is hard day to day, the children and
I, trying to make our way. We see you
in the stars at night, we feel your hugs,
when I tuck them in tight. Their tears still
fall, as in the night your name they still
call. It's just not the same dear, since God
took you home, 'I have never felt
so alone.'

On the weekends to our ocean retreat,
through the mist of the oceans we
hear your voice so sweet. Remembering
the ocean to be your favorite place,
going back there, recapturing your
beautiful face.

Hearing your whipsers in the gentle
waves, saying your last goodbys
as you left us that day. Been a year
now, the pain is still there, but I know
you are at peace, in his loving care. 'Darling,
you gave us nothing but sheer pleasure,
and in Heaven I know, God now holds, our
life's greatest treasure.

No one will ever take your place, the
beauty you posessed will never
be found in any heart, nor on any face.
We know you are here with us each and
every day, without you dear, we
wouldn't make it through the day. I see
you in our children, in every tear that
they cry, rest peacefully now my love,
till we meet in our home that I know
you are preparing for us all, there in
the sky.

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Four Points in a Life

I

LOVE'S DAWN


Still thine eyes haunt me; in the darkness now,
The dreamtime, the hushed stillness of the night,
I see them shining pure and earnest light;
And here, all lonely, may I not avow
The thrill with which I ever meet their glance?
At first they gazed a calm abstracted gaze,
The while thy soul was floating through some maze
Of beautiful divinely-peopled trance;
But now I shrink from them in shame and fear,
For they are gathering all their beams of light
Into an arrow, keen, intense and bright,
Swerveless and starlike from its deep blue sphere,
Piercing the cavernous darkness of my soul,
Burning its foul recesses into view,
Transfixing with sharp agony through and through
Whatever ls not brave and clean and whole.
And yet I will not shrink, although thou piercest
Into the inmost depths of all my being
I will not shrink, although though now art seeing
My heart's caged lusts the wildest and the fiercest,
The cynic thoughts that fret my homeless mind,
My unbelief, my selfishness, my weakness,
My dismal lack of charity and meekness;
For, amidst all the evil, thou must find
Pervading, cleansing, and transmuting me,
A fervent and most holy love for thee.

II

MARRIAGE


Come to me, oh come to me!
Time is long since we were parted;
I am sad and weary-hearted,
Foiled and almost overthrown,
Fighting with the world alone:
What am I when thou art gone?
Come darling, soon!

Come to me, oh come to me!
Let my failing head find rest, Love,
On thy pure and tender breast, Love;
Calm my overwearied brain,
Soothe away my heart's chill pain,
Bring me hope and strength again:
Come darling, soon!

Come to me, oh come to me!
Evermore the memory lingers,
How your gentle flower-soft fingers,
With a touch when I lay ill
Through my fevered frame could thrill
Cool rich life divinely still:
Come darling, soon!

Come to me, oh come to me !
Dearest heart of love and meekness,
Is not this unmanly weakness?
Ah, with thee such pure sweet calm
Heals my wounds with heavenly balm,
I fighting feel my spear a palm:
Come darling, soon!

Come to me, oh come to me!
Though its perils groomed more fearful
I could fight undaunted, cheerful,
This stern Agony called Life,
Were the pauses of the strife
Blest by thee, my noble Wife:
Come darling, soon!

Come to me, oh come to me!
Strength and hope and faith are waning
With this fierce and pauseless straining;
Ere my soul be conquered quite,
Ere I fail from Truth and Right,
Come, my Life, my joy, my Light,
Come Darling, soon!

III

PARTING


Weep not Dearest, weep not so;
Soon again we two shall meet
Who now part in bitter woe:
After pain shall bliss be sweet.

Few more years of numb despair
Must we wander far apart
Through the desert dead and bare:
Love is courage in the heart.

Few more years of bitter moan
O'er the rugged mountain height,
Must we toil on each alone:
Love can make all burdens light.

Few more years of stricken woe
Erring on an alien shore
Lone and friendless each, must go:
We will love then more and more.

Few short hours of doubt and dread
Trembling on the brink of Night
Spectre-haunted, each must tread:
Love can burn all darkness bright.

All the long lone years must die;
Then shall we together come
Where beneath a calm bright sky
Bright waves bear us to our home.

Weep not Dearest, weep not so;
Soon again we two must meet
Where the calm deep waters flow,
Soothing surely care and woe,
With their mystic murmur sweet.

IV

AT DEATH'S DOOR


Is this the second childhood's feeble sadness?
My eyes are dim now and my hair is white;
Yet never did the sunshine give more gladness,
Never young Spring burst forth in green delight
More freshly; never was the earth more fair,
Never more rapture in the common air.

Still as I near great Death, it seems his portal
Glides gently backward, that I may gaze through
And glimpse far glories of the realm immortal;
The world becomes transparent to my view,
Diviner Heavens expand beyond the skies
The stars grow thoughtful with eternal eyes.

How the green grass and every flower swell yearning
To hint more clearly some high loveliness
Whose mystic soul within their forms is burning;
How strives the sea for ever to express,
With infinite heavings, murmurings manifold,
Some secret grandeur that will not be told!

The life of day is lulled to dreamful musing,
And true life waketh in the world of dream;
While with the Present strangely interfusing
The Future and the Past together stream,
As if the long-drawn waves of Time should be
Settling and mingling in Eternity.

With every golden dawn awakened lightly,
I think I must have slept through Death's calm night;
For lo, how purely, silently and brightly,
The Heavens unfold their gates before my sight;
The tranced sea of crystal spreadeth slowly,
The burning Throne lives out with splendours holy.

Whereon I look to see thee come swift-greeting
From where thou waitest for my laggard feet,
Assured beyond impatience for the meeting,
Crowned with triumphant love and faith complete:
I look in vain as yet; but every hour
So summer-rich may make the bud a flower.

How well, my Love, the thoughtful Heavens endeavour
To make this world and life and time all bear
Dream-lightly on the soul, ere it for ever
Be parted from them! Did I once despair
Through years of lonely anguish unassuaged ?
This calm can scarce believe that storms have raged.

Here is the blessing: I now muse enchanted
In this sweet dawnlike sunset; night comes then
Of restful sleep by gracious visions haunted;
So with new morning I shall rise again
Full of young life, and find my Love for aye,
My Love whom I have missed this long sad day.

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Easter-Day

HOW very hard it is to be
A Christian! Hard for you and me,
—Not the mere task of making real
That duty up to its ideal,
Effecting thus complete and whole,
A purpose or the human soul—
For that is always hard to do;
But hard, I mean, for me and you
To realise it, more or less,
With even the moderate success
Which commonly repays our strife
To carry out the aims of life.
“This aim is greater,” you may say,
And so more arduous every way.”
—But the importance of the fruits
Still proves to man, in all pursuits,
Proportional encouragement.
“Then, what if it be God’s intent
“That labour to this one result
“Shall seem unduly difficult?”
—Ah, that’s a question in the dark—
And the sole thing that I remark
Upon the difficulty, this;
We do not see it where it is,
At the beginning of the race:
As we proceed, it shifts its place,
And where we looked for palms to fall,
We find the tug’s to come,—that’s all.

II.
At first you say, “The whole, or chief
Of difficulties, is Belief.
“Could I believe once thoroughly,
The rest were simple. What? Am I
“An idiot, do you think? A beast?
“Prove to me only that the least
“Command of God is God’s indeed,
And what injunction shall I need
To pay obedience? Death so nigh
“When time must end, eternity
“Begin,—and cannot I compute?
“Weigh loss and gain together? suit
My actions to the balance drawn,
And give my body to be sawn
“Asunder, hacked in pieces, tied
To horses, stoned, burned, crucified,
“Like any martyr of the list?
“How gladly,—if I made acquist,
“Through the brief minutes’ fierce annoy,
Of God’s eternity of joy.”

III.
And certainly you name the point
Whereon all turns: for could you joint
This flexile finite life once tight
Into the fixed and infinite,
You, safe inside, would spurn what’s out,
With carelessness enough, no doubt—
Would spurn mere life: but where time brings
To their next stage your reasonings,
Your eyes, late wide, begin to wink
Nor see the path so well, I think.

IV.
You say, “Faith may be, one agrees,
“A touchstone for God’s purposes,
“Even as ourselves conceive of them.
“Could He acquit us or condemn
For holding what no hand can loose,
“Rejecting when we can’t but choose?
“As well award the victor’s wreath
To whosoever should take breath
“Duly each minute while he lived—
“Grant Heaven, because a man contrived
To see the sunlight every day
“He walked forth on the public way.
You must mix some uncertainty
“With faith, if you would have faith be.
“Why, what but faith, do we abhor
And idolize each other for
“—Faith in our evil, or our good,
“Which is or is not understood
“Aright by those we love or those
“We hate, thence called our friends or foes?
Your mistress saw your spirit’s grace,
“When, turning from the ugly face,
I found belief in it too hard;
And both of us have our reward.
“—Yet here a doubt peeps: well for us
“Weak beings, to go using thus
“A touchstone for our little ends,
And try with faith the foes and friends;
“—But God, bethink you! I would fain
“Conceive of the Creator’s reign
“As based upon exacter laws
“Than creatures build by with applause.
In all God’s acts—(as Plato cries
“He doth)—He should geometrise.
“Whence, I desiderate . . .

V.
I see!
You would grow smoothly as a tree.
Soar heavenward, straightly up like fire—
God bless you—there’s your world entire
Needing no faith, if you think fit;
Go there, walk up and down in it!
The whole creation travails, groans—
Contrive your music from its moans,
Without or let or hindrance, friend!
That’s an old story, and its end
As old—you come back (be sincere)
With every question you put here
(Here where there once was, and is still,
We think, a living oracle,
Whose answers you stood carping at)
This time flung back unanswered flat,—
Besides, perhaps, as many more
As those that drove you out before,
Now added, where was little need!
Questions impossible, indeed,
To us who sate still, all and each
Persuaded that our earth had speech
Of God’s, writ down, no matter if
In cursive type or hieroglyph,—
Which one fact frees us from the yoke
Of guessing why He never spoke.
You come back in no better plight
Than when you left us,—am I right?

VI.
So the old process, I conclude,
Goes on, the reasoning’s pursued
Further. You own. “’Tis well averred,
“A scientific faith’s absurd,
“—Frustrates the very end ’twas meant
To serve: so I would rest content
“With a mere probability,
“But, probable; the chance must lie
“Clear on one side,—lie all in rough,
“So long as there is just enough
To pin my faith to, though it hap
“Only at points: from gap to gap
“One hangs up a huge curtain so,
“Grandly, nor seeks to have it go
“Foldless and flat along the wall:
“—What care I that some interval
Of life less plainly might depend
“On God? I’d hang there to the end;
And thus I should not find it hard
To be a Christian and debarred
“From trailing on the earth, till furled
“Away by death!—Renounce the world?
“Were that a mighty hardship? Plan
“A pleasant life, and straight some man
“Beside you, with, if he thought fit,
“Abundant means to compass it,
“Shall turn deliberate aside
To try and live as, if you tried
You clearly might, yet most despise.
“One friend of mine wears out his eyes,
“Slighting the stupid joys of sense,
In patient hope that, ten years hence,
“Somewhat completer he may see
“His list of lepidopteræ:
“While just the other who most laughs
“At him, above all epitaphs
“Aspires to have his tomb describe
“Himself as Sole among the tribe
Of snuffbox-fanciers, who possessed
“A Grignon with the Regent’s crest.
“So that, subduing as you want,
“Whatever stands predominant
“Among my earthly appetites
For tastes, and smells, and sounds, and sights,
I shall be doing that alone,
To gain a palm-branch and a throne,
“Which fifty people undertake
To do, and gladly, for the sake
Of giving a Semitic guess,
“Or playing pawns at blindfold chess.”

VII.
Good! and the next thing is,—look round
For evidence enough. ’Tis found,
No doubt: as is your sort of mind,
So is your sort of search—youll find
What you desire, and that’s to be
A Christian: what says History?
How comforting a point it were
To find some mummy-scrap declare
There lived a Moses! Better still,
Prove Jonah’s whale translatable
Into some quicksand of the seas,
Isle, cavern, rock, or what you please,
That Faith might clap her wings and crow
From such an eminence! Or, no—
The Human Heart’s best; you prefer
Making that prove the minister
To truth; you probe its wants and needs
And hopes and fears, then try what creeds
Meet these most aptly,—resolute
That Faith plucks such substantial fruit
Wherever these two correspond,
She little needs to look beyond,
To puzzle out what Orpheus was,
Or Dionysius Zagrias.
Youll find sufficient, as I say,
To satisfy you either way.
You wanted to believe; your pains
Are crowned—you do: and what remains?
Renounce the world!—Ah, were it done
By merely cutting one by one
Your limbs off, with your wise head last,
How easy were it!—how soon past,
If once in the believing mood!
Such is man’s usual gratitude,
Such thanks to God do we return,
For not exacting that we spurn
A single gift of life, forego
One real gain,—only taste them so
With gravity and temperance,
That those mild virtues may enhance
Such pleasures, rather than abstract—
Last spice of which, will be the fact
Of love discerned in every gift;
While, when the scene of life shall shift,
And the gay heart be taught to ache,
As sorrows and privations take
The place of joy,—the thing that seems
Mere misery, under human schemes,
Becomes, regarded by the light
Of Love, as very near, or quite
As good a gift as joy before.
So plain is it that all the more
God’s dispensation’s merciful,
More pettishly we try and cull
Briars, thistles, from our private plot,
To mar God’s ground where thorns are not!

VIII.
Do you say this, or I?—Oh, you!
Then, what, my friend,—(so I pursue
Our parley)—you indeed opine
That the Eternal and Divine
Did, eighteen centuries ago,
In very truth . . . Enough! you know
The all-stupendous tale,—that Birth,
That Life, that Death! And all, the earth
Shuddered at,—all, the heavens grew black
Rather than see; all, Nature’s rack
And throe at dissolution’s brink
Attested,—it took place, you think,
Only to give our joys a zest,
And prove our sorrows for the best?
We differ, then! Were I, still pale
And heartstruck at the dreadful tale,
Waiting to hear God’s voice declare
What horror followed for my share,
As implicated in the deed,
Apart from other sins,—concede
That if He blacked out in a blot
My brief lifes pleasantness, ’twere not
So very disproportionate!
Or there might be another fate—
I certainly could understand
(If fancies were the thing in hand)
How God might save, at that Days price,
The impure in their impurities,
Leave formal licence and complete
To choose the fair, and pick the sweet.
But there be certain words, broad, plain,
Uttered again and yet again,
Hard to mistake, to overgloss—
Announcing this world’s gain for loss,
And bidding us reject the same:
The whole world lieth (they proclaim)
In wickedness,—come out of it!—
Turn a deaf ear, if you think fit,
But I who thrill through every nerve
At thought of what deaf ears deserve,—
How do you counsel in the case?

IX.
I’d take, by all means, in your place,
The safe side, since it so appears:
“Deny myself, a few brief years,
The natural pleasure, leave the fruit
“Or cut the plant up by the root.
Remember what a martyr said
“On the rude tablet overhead—
“‘I was born sickly, poor and mean,
“‘A slave: no misery could screen
“‘The holders of the pearl of price
“‘From Cæsar’s envy; therefore twice
“‘I fought with beasts, and three times saw
“‘My children suffer by his law—
“‘At last my own release was earned:
“‘I was some time in being burned,
“‘But at the close a Hand came through
“‘The fire above my head, and drew
“‘My soul to Christ, whom now I see.
“‘Sergius, a brother, writes for me
“‘This testimony on the wall—
“‘For me, I have forgot it all.’
You say right; this were not so hard!
And since one nowise is debarred
“From this, why not escape some sins
“By such a method?”

X.
—Then begins
To the old point, revulsion new—
(For ’tis just this, I bring you to)
If after all we should mistake,
And so renounce life for the sake
Of death and nothing else? You hear
Our friends we jeered at, send the jeer
Back to ourselves with good effect—
‘There were my beetles to collect!’
My box—a trifle, I confess,
‘But here I hold it, ne’ertheless!’
Poor idiots, (let us pluck up heart
And answer) we, the better part
Have chosen, though ’twere only hope,—
Nor envy moles like you that grope
Amid your veritable muck,
More than the grasshoppers would truck,
For yours, their passionate life away,
That spends itself in leaps all day
To reach the sun, you want the eyes
To see, as they the wings to rise
And match the noble hearts of them!
So, the contemner we contemn,—
And, when doubt strikes us, so, we ward
Its stroke off, caught upon our guard,
—Not struck enough to overturn
Our faith, but shake it—make us learn
What I began with, and, I wis,
End, having proved,—how hard it is
To be a Christian!

XI.
“Proved, or not,
“Howe’er you wis, small thanks, I wot,
You get of mine, for taking pains
To make it hard to me. Who gains
“By that, I wonder? Here I live
In trusting ease; and do you drive
“At causing me to lose what most
Yourself would mourn for when ’twas lost?”

XII.
But, do you see, my friend, that thus
You leave St. Paul for Æschylus?—
—Who made his Titan’s arch-device
The giving men blind hopes to spice
The meal of life with, else devoured
In bitter haste, while lo! Death loured
Before them at the platter’s edge!
If faith should be, as we allege,
Quite other than a condiment
To heighten flavors with, or meant
(Like that brave curry of his Grace)
To take at need the victuals’ place?
If having dined you would digest
Besides, and turning to your rest
Should find instead . . .

XIII.
Now, you shall see
And judge if a mere foppery
Pricks on my speaking! I resolve
To utter . . . yes, it shall devolve
On you to hear as solemn, strange
And dread a thing as in the range
Of facts,—or fancies, if God will—
E’er happened to our kind! I still
Stand in the cloud, and while it wraps
My face, ought not to speak, perhaps;
Seeing that as I carry through
My purpose, if my words in you
Find veritable listeners,
My story, reason’s self avers
Must needs be false—the happy chance!
While, if each human countenance
I meet in London streets all day,
Be what I fear,—my warnings fray
No one, and no one they convert,
And no one helps me to assert
How hard it is to really be
A Christian, and in vacancy
I pour this story!

XIV.
I commence
By trying to inform you, whence
It comes that every Easter-night
As now, I sit up, watch, till light
Shall break, those chimney-stacks and roofs
Give, through my window-pane, grey proofs
That Easter-day is breaking slow.
On such a night, three years ago,
It chanced that I had cause to cross
The common, where the chapel was,
Our friend spoke of, the other day
You’ve not forgotten, I dare say.
I fell to musing of the time
So close, the blessed matin-prime
All hearts leap up at, in some guise—
One could not well do otherwise.
Insensibly my thoughts were bent
Toward the main point; I overwent
Much the same ground of reasoning
As you and I just now: one thing
Remained, however—one that tasked
My soul to answer; and I asked,
Fairly and frankly, what might be
That History, that Faith, to me
Me there—not me, in some domain
Built up and peopled by my brain,
Weighing its merits as one weighs
Mere theories for blame or praise,
The Kingcraft of the Lucumons,
Or Fourier’s scheme, its pros and cons,—
But as my faith, or none at all.
‘How were my case, now, should I fall
‘Dead here, this minute—do I lie
‘Faithful or faithless?’—Note that I
Inclined thus ever!—little prone
For instance, when I slept alone
In childhood, to go calm to sleep
And leave a closet where might keep
His watch perdue some murderer
Waiting till twelve o’clock to stir,
As good, authentic legends tell
He might—‘But how improbable!
‘How little likely to deserve
The pains and trial to the nerve
Of thrusting head into the dark,’—
Urged my old nurse, and bade me mark
Besides, that, should the dreadful scout
Really lie hid there, to leap out
At first turn of the rusty key,
It were small gain that she could see
In being killed upon the floor
And losing one night’s sleep the more.
I tell you, I would always burst
The door ope, know my fate at first.—
This time, indeed, the closet penned
No such assassin: but a friend
Rather, peeped out to guard me, fit
For counsel, Common Sense, to-wit,
Who said a good deal that might pass,—
Heartening, impartial too, it was,
Judge else: ‘For, soberly now,—who
‘Should be a Christian if not you?’
(Hear how he smoothed me down). ‘One takes
‘A whole life, sees what course it makes
‘Mainly, and not by fits and starts—
In spite of stoppage which imparts
‘Fresh value to the general speed:
‘A life, with none, would fly indeed:
Your progressing is slower-right!
‘We deal with progressing, not flight.
‘Through baffling senses passionate,
‘Fancies as restless,—with a freight
Of knowledge cumbersome enough
To sink your ship when waves grow rough,
‘Not serve as ballast in the hold,
I find, ’mid dangers manifold,
The good bark answers to the helm
‘Where Faith sits, easier to o’erwhelm
‘Than some stout peasant’s heavenly guide,
‘Whose hard head could not, if it tried,
‘Conceive a doubt, or understand
‘How senses hornier than his hand
‘Should ’tice the Christian off, his guard—
‘More happy! But shall we award
‘Less honour to the hull, which, dogged
‘By storms, a mere wreck, waterlogged,
‘Masts by the board, and bulwarks gone,
And stanchions going, yet bears on,—
‘Than to mere life-boats, built to save,
And triumph o’er the breaking wave?
‘Make perfect your good ship as these,
And what were her performances!’
I added—‘Would the ship reached home!
I wish indeed “God’s kingdom come—”
The day when I shall see appear
‘His bidding, as my duty, clear
‘From doubt! And it shall dawn, that day,
‘Some future season; Easter may
‘Prove, not impossibly, the time—
‘Yes, that were striking—fates would chime
‘So aptly! Easter-morn, to bring
The Judgment!—deeper in the Spring
‘Than now, however, when there’s snow
‘Capping the hills; for earth must show
‘All signs of meaning to pursue
‘Her tasks as she was wont to do—
‘—The lark, as taken by surprise
‘As we ourselves, shall recognise
‘Sudden the end: for suddenly
It comes—the dreadfulness must be
In that—all warrants the belief—
‘“At night it cometh like a thief.”
I fancy why the trumpet blows;
‘—Plainly, to wake one. From repose
‘We shall start up, at last awake
‘From life, that insane dream we take
For waking now, because it seems.
And as, when now we wake from dreams,
‘We say, while we recall them, “Fool,
‘“To let the chance slip, linger cool
‘“When such adventure offered! Just
‘“A bridge to cross, a dwarf to thrust
‘“Aside, a wicked mage to stab—
‘“And, lo ye, I had kissed Queen Mab,”—
‘So shall we marvel why we grudged
‘Our labours here, and idly judged
Of Heaven, we might have gained, but lose!
‘Lose? Talk of loss, and I refuse
To plead at all! I speak no worse
‘Nor better than my ancient nurse
‘When she would tell me in my youth
I well deserved that shapes uncouth
‘Should fright and tease me in my sleep—
‘Why did I not in memory keep
‘Her precept for the evil’s cure?
‘“Pinch your own arm, boy, and be sure
‘“Youll wake forthwith!”’

XV.
And as I said
This nonsense, throwing back my head
With light complacent laugh, I found
Suddenly all the midnight round
One fire. The dome of Heaven had stood
As made up of a multitude
Of handbreadth cloudlets, one vast rack
Of ripples infinite and black,
From sky to sky. Sudden there went,
Like horror and astonishment,
A fierce vindictive scribble of red
Quick flame across, as if one said
(The angry scribe of Judgment) ‘There—
‘Burn it!’ And straight I was aware
That the whole ribwork round, minute
Cloud touching cloud beyond compute,
Was tinted each with its own spot
Of burning at the core, till clot
Jammed against clot, and spilt its fire
Over all heaven, which ’gan suspire
As fanned to measure equable,—
As when great conflagrations kill
Night overhead, and rise and sink,
Reflected. Now the fire would shrink
And wither oft the blasted face
Of heaven, and I distinct could trace
The sharp black ridgy outlines left
Unburned like network—then, each cleft
The fire had been sucked back into,
Regorged, and out it surging flew
Furiously, and night writhed inflamed,
Till, tolerating to be tamed
No longer, certain rays world-wide
Shot downwardly, on every side,
Caught past escape; the earth was lit;
As if a dragon’s nostril split
And all his famished ire o’erflowed;
Then, as he winced at his Lord’s goad,
Back he inhaled: whereat I found
The clouds into vast pillars bound,
Based on the corners of the earth,
Propping the skies at top: a dearth
Of fire ithe violet intervals,
Leaving exposed the utmost walls
Of time, about to tumble in
And end the world.

XVI.
I felt begin
The Judgment-Day: to retrocede
Was too late now.—‘In very deed,
(I uttered to myself) ‘that Day!’
The intuition burned away
All darkness from my spirit too—
There, stood I, found and fixed, I knew,
Choosing the world. The choice was made—
And naked and disguiseless stayed,
An unevadeable, the fact.
My brain held ne’ertheless compact
Its senses, nor my heart declined
Its office—rather, both combined
To help me in this juncture—I
Lost not a second,—agony
Gave boldness: there, my life had end
And my choice with it—best defend,
Applaud them! I resolved to say,
So was I framed by Thee, this way
I put to use Thy senses here!
It was so beautiful, so near,
‘Thy world,—what could I do but choose
My part there? Nor did I refuse
To look above the transient boon
In time—but it was hard so soon
‘As in a short life, to give up
‘Such beauty: I had put the cup
‘Undrained of half its fullness, by;
‘But, to renounce it utterly,
‘—That was too hard! Nor did the Cry
‘Which bade renounce it, touch my brain
‘Authentically deep and plain
‘Enough, to make my lips let go.
‘But Thou, who knowest all, dost know
‘Whether I was not, lifes brief while,
‘Endeavouring to reconcile
‘Those lips—too tardily, alas!
To letting the dear remnant pass,
‘One day,—some drops of earthly good
‘Untasted! Is it for this mood,
‘That Thou, whose earth delights so well,
Has made its complement a Hell?

XVII.
A final belch of fire like blood,
Overbroke all, next, in one flood
Of doom. Then fire was sky, and sky
Was fire, and both, one extasy,
Then ashes. But I heard no noise
(Whatever was) because a Voice
Beside me spoke thus, “All is done,
“Time end’s, Eternity’s begun,
And thou art judged for evermore!”

XVIII.
I looked up; all was as before;
Of that cloud-Tophet overhead,
No trace was left: I saw instead
The common round me, and the sky
Above, stretched drear and emptily
Of life: ’twas the last watch of night,
Except what brings the morning quite,
When the armed angel, conscience-clear
His task nigh done, leans o’er his spear
And gazes on the earth he guards,
Safe one night more through all its wards,
Till God relieve him at his post.
‘A dream—a waking dream at most!’
(I spoke out quick that I might shake
The horrid nightmare off, and wake.)
The world’s gone, yet the world is here?
‘Are not all things as they appear?
‘Is Judgment past for me alone?
‘—And where had place the Great White Throne?
The rising of the Quick and Dead?
‘Where stood they, small and great? Who read
The sentence from the Opened Book?’
So, by degrees, the blood forsook
My heart, and let it beat afresh:
I knew I should break through the mesh
Of horror, and breathe presently—
When, lo, again, the Voice by me!

XIX.
I saw . . . Oh, brother, ’mid far sands
The palm-tree-cinctured city stands,—
Bright-white beneath, as Heaven, bright-blue,
Above it, while the years pursue
Their course, unable to abate
Its paradisal laugh at fate:
One morn,—the Arab staggers blind
O’er a new tract of death, calcined
To ashes, silence, nothingness,—
Striving, with dizzy wits, to guess
Whence fell the blow: what if, ’twixt skies
And prostrate earth, he should surprise
The imaged Vapour, head to foot.
Surveying, motionless and mute,
Its work, ere, in a whirlwind rapt,
It vanish up again?—So hapt
My chance. HE stood there. Like the smoke
Pillared o’er Sodom, when day broke,—
I saw Him. One magnific pall
Mantled in massive fold and fall
His Dread, and coiled in snaky swathes
About His feet: night’s black, that bathes
All else, broke, grizzled with despair,
Against the soul of blackness there.
A gesture told the mood within—
That wrapped right hand which based the chin,—
That intense meditation fixed
On His procedure,—pity mixed
With the fulfilment of decree.
Motionless, thus, He spoke to me,
Who fell before His feet, a mass,
No man now.

XX.
“All is come to pass.
“Such shows are over for each soul
“They had respect to. In the roll
Of Judgment which convinced mankind
Of sin, stood many, bold and blind,
“Terror must burn the truth into:
“Their fate for them!—thou had’st to do
“With absolute omnipotence,
“Able its judgments to dispense
To the whole race, as every one
“Were its sole object: that is done:
“God is, thou art,—the rest is hurled
To nothingness for thee. This world,
“This finite life, thou hast preferred,
In disbelief of God’s own word,
To Heaven and to Infinity.
Here, the probation was for thee,
To show thy soul the earthly mixed
“With Heavenly, it must choose betwixt.
The earthly joys lay palpable,—
“A taint, in each, distinct as well;
The Heavenly flitted, faint and rare,
“Above them, but as truly were
“Taintless, so in their nature, best.
“Thy choice was earth: thou didst attest
“Twas fitter spirit should subserve
The flesh, than flesh refine to nerve
“Beneath the spirit’s play. Advance
“No claim to their inheritance
“Who chose the spirit’s fugitive
“Brief gleams, and thought, ‘This were to live
“‘Indeed, if rays, completely pure
“‘From flesh that dulls them, should endure,—
““Not shoot in meteor-light athwart
“‘Our earth, to show how cold and swart
“‘It lies beneath their fire, but stand
“‘As stars should, destined to expand,
“‘Prove veritable worlds, our home!’
“Thou said’st,—‘Let Spirit star the dome
“‘Of sky, that flesh may miss no peak,
“‘No nook of earth,—I shall not seek
“‘Its service further!’ Thou art shut
“Out of the Heaven of Spirit; glut
“Thy sense upon the world: ’tis thine
For ever—take it!”

XXI.
‘How? Is mine,
The world?’ (I cried, while my soul broke
Out in a transport) ‘Hast thou spoke
‘Plainly in that? Earth’s exquisite
‘Treasures of wonder and delight,
For me?’

XXII.
The austere Voice returned,—
“So soon made happy? Hadst thou learned
“What God accounteth happiness,
“Thou wouldst not find it hard to guess
“What Hell may be His punishment
For those who doubt if God invent
“Better than they. Let such men rest
“Content with what they judged the best.
“Let the Unjust usurp at will:
The Filthy shall be filthy still:
“Miser, there waits the gold for thee!
“Hater, indulge thine enmity!
And thou, whose heaven, self-ordained,
“Was to enjoy earth unrestrained,
“Do it! Take all the ancient show!
The woods shall wave, the rivers flow,
And men apparently pursue
“Their works, as they were wont to do,
“While living in probation yet:
I promise not thou shalt forget
The past, now gone to its account,
“But leave thee with the old amount
Of faculties, nor less nor more,
“Unvisited, as heretofore,
“By God’s free spirit, that makes an end.
“So, once more, take thy world; expend
“Eternity upon its shows,—
“Flung thee as freely as one rose
“Out of a summer’s opulence,
“Over the Eden-barrier whence
“Thou art excluded, Knock in vain!”

XXIII.
I sate up. All was still again.
I breathed free: to my heart, back fled
The warmth. ‘But, all the world!’ (I said)
I stooped and picked a leaf of fern,
And recollected I might learn
From books, how many myriad sorts
Exist, if one may trust reports,
Each as distinct and beautiful
As this, the very first I cull.
Think, from the first leaf to the last!
Conceive, then, earth’s resources! Vast
Exhaustless beauty, endless change
Of wonder! and this foot shall range
Alps, Andes,—and this eye devour
The bee-bird and the aloe-flower?

XXIV.
And the Voice, “Welcome so to rate
The arras-folds that variegate
The earth, God’s antechamber, well!
The wise, who waited there, could tell
“By these, what royalties in store
“Lay one step past the entrance-door.
For whom, was reckoned, not too much,
“This lifes munificence? For such
“As thou,—a race, whereof not one
“Was able, in a million,
To feel that any marvel lay
In objects round his feet all day;
“Nor one, in many millions more,
“Willing, if able, to explore
The secreter, minuter charm!
“—Brave souls, a fern-leaf could disarm
Of power to cope with God’s intent,—
“Or scared if the South Firmament
“With North-fire did its wings refledge!
“All partial beauty was a pledge
Of beauty in its plenitude:
“But since the pledge sufficed thy mood,
“Retain it—plenitude be theirs
“Who looked above!”

XXV.
Though sharp despairs
Shot through me, I held up, bore on.
‘What is it though my trust is gone
‘From natural things? Henceforth my part
‘Be less with Nature than with Art!
For Art supplants, gives mainly worth
To Nature; ’tis Man stamps the earth—
And I will seek his impress, seek
The statuary of the Greek,
‘Italy’s painting—there my choice
‘Shall fix!’

XXVI.
“Obtain it,” said the Voice.
The one form with its single act,
“Which sculptors laboured to abstract,
The one face, painters tried to draw,
“With its one look, from throngs they saw!
And that perfection in their soul,
“These only hinted at? The whole,
“They were but parts of? What each laid
“His claim to glory on?—afraid
“His fellow-men should give him rank
“By the poor tentatives he shrank
“Smitten at heart from, all the more,
“That gazers pressed in to adore!
“‘Shall I be judged by only these?’
“If such his soul’s capacities,
“Even while he trod the earth,—think, now
“What pomp in Buonarotti’s brow,
“With its new palace-brain where dwells
“Superb the soul, unvexed by cells
“That crumbled with the transient clay!
“What visions will his right hand’s sway
“Still turn to form, as still they burst
“Upon him? How will he quench thirst,
“Titanically infantine,
“Laid at the breast of the Divine?
“Does it confound thee,—this first page
“Emblazoning man’s heritage?—
“Can this alone absorb thy sight,
“As if they were not infinite,—
“Like the omnipotence which tasks
“Itself, to furnish all that asks
The soul it means to satiate?
“What was the world, the starry state
Of the broad skies,—what, all displays
Of power and beauty intermixed,
“Which now thy soul is chained betwixt,—
“What, else, than needful furniture
For lifes first stage? God’s work, be sure,
“No more spreads wasted, than falls scant:
“He filled, did not exceed, Man’s want
Of beauty in this life. And pass
Lifes line,—and what has earth to do,
“Its utmost beauty’s appanage,
“With the requirements of next stage?
“Did God pronounce earth ‘very good’?
“Needs must it be, while understood
For man’s preparatory state;
Nothing to heighten nor abate:
“But transfer the completeness here,
To serve a new state’s use,—and drear
“Deficiency gapes every side!
The good, tried once, were bad, retried.
See the enwrapping rocky niche,
“Sufficient for the sleep, in which
The lizard breathes for ages safe:
“Split the mould—and as this would chafe
The creature’s new world-widened sense,
“One minute after you dispense
The thousand sounds and sights that broke
In, on him, at the chisel’s stroke,—
“So, in God’s eyes, the earth’s first stuff
“Was, neither more nor less, enough
To house man’s soul, man’s need fulfil.
You reckoned it immeasurable:
“So thinks the lizard of his vault!
“Could God be taken in default,
“Short of contrivances, by you,—
“Or reached, ere ready to pursue
“His progress through eternity?
“That chambered rock, the lizard’s world,
Your easy mallet’s blow has hurled
To nothingness for ever; so,
Has God abolished at a blow
“This world, wherein his saints were pent,—
“Who, though, found grateful and content,
“With the provision there, as thou,
“Yet knew He would not disallow
“Their spirit’s hunger, felt as well,—
“Unsated,—not unsatable,
“As Paradise gives proof. Deride
“Their choice now, thou who sit’st outside!”

XXVII.
I cried in anguish, ‘Mind, the mind,
‘So miserably cast behind,
To gain what had been wisely lost!
‘Oh, let me strive to make the most
Of the poor stinted soul, I nipped
Of budding wings, else well equipt
For voyage from summer isle to isle!
And though she needs must reconcile
‘Ambition to the life on ground,
‘Still, I can profit by late found
‘But precious knowledge. Mind is best—
I will seize mind, forego the rest
And try how far my tethered strength
‘May crawl in this poor breadth and length.
‘—Let me, since I can fly no more,
‘At least spin dervish-like about
‘(Till giddy rapture almost doubt
I fly) through circling sciences,
‘Philosophies and histories!
‘Should the whirl slacken there, then Verse,
‘Fining to music, shall asperse
‘Fresh and fresh fire-dew, till I strain
‘Intoxicate, half-break my chain!
‘Not joyless, though more favoured feet
‘Stand calm, where I want wings to beat
The floor? At least earth’s bond is broke!”

XXVIII.
Then, (sickening even while I spoke
‘Let me alone! No answer, pray,
To this! I know what Thou wilt say
‘All still is earth’s,—to Know, as much
‘As Feel its truths, which if we touch
‘With sense or apprehend in soul,
‘What matter? I have reached the goal—
‘“Whereto does Knowledge serve!” will burn
My eyes, too sure, at every turn!
I cannot look back now, nor stake
‘Bliss on the race, for running’s sake.
The goal’s a ruin like the rest!’—
—“And so much worse thy latter quest,
(Added the Voice) “that even on earth
“Whenever, in man’s soul, had birth
“Those intuitions, grasps of guess,
“That pull the more into the less,
“Making the finite comprehend
“Infinity, the bard would spend
“Such praise alone, upon his craft,
“As, when wind-lyres obey the waft,
“Goes to the craftsman who arranged
The seven strings, changed them and rechanged—
“Knowing it was the South that harped.
“He felt his song, in singing, warped,
“Distinguished his and God’s part: whence
“A world of spirit as of sense
“Was plain to him, yet not too plain,
“Which he could traverse, not remain
“A guest in:—else were permanent
“Heaven upon earth, its gleams were meant
To sting with hunger for the light,—
“Made visible in Verse, despite
The veiling weakness,-truth by means
Of fable, showing while it screens,—
“Since highest truth, man e’er supplied,
“Was ever fable on outside.
“Such gleams made bright the earth an age;
“Now, the whole sum’s his heritage!
“Take up thy world, it is allowed,
“Thou who hast entered in the cloud!

XXIX.
Then I—‘Behold, my spirit bleeds,
‘Catches no more at broken reeds,—
‘But lilies flower those reeds above—
I let the world go, and take love!
‘Love survives in me, albeit those
I loved are henceforth masks and shows,
‘Not loving men and women: still
I mind how love repaired all ill,
‘Cured wrong, soothed grief, made earth amends
‘With parents, brothers, children, friends!
‘Some semblance of a woman yet
‘With eyes to help me to forget,
‘Shall live with me; and I will match
‘Departed love with love, attach
‘Its fragments to my whole, nor scorn
‘Tho poorest of the grains of corn
I save from shipwreck on this isle,
‘Trusting its barrenness may smile
‘With happy foodful green one day,
‘More precious for the pains. I pray,
For love, then, only!’

XXX.
At the word,
The Form, I looked to have been stirred
With pity and approval, rose
O’er me, as when the headsman throws
Axe over shoulder to make end—
I fell prone, letting Him expend
His wrath, while, thus, the inflicting Voice
Smote me. “Is this thy final choice?
Love is the best? ’Tis somewhat late!
And all thou dost enumerate
Of power and beauty in the world,
The mightiness of love was curled
“Inextricably round about.
“Love lay within it and without,
To clasp thee,—but in vain! Thy soul
“Still shrunk from Him who made the whole,
“Still set deliberate aside
“His love!—Now take love! Well betide
“Thy tardy conscience! Haste to take
The show of love for the name’s sake,
“Remembering every moment Who
“Reside creating thee unto
“These ends, and these for thee, was said
To undergo death in thy stead
In flesh like thine: so ran the tale.
“What doubt in thee could countervail
“Belief in it? Upon the ground
“‘That in the story had been found
“‘Too much love? How could God love so?’
“He who in all his works below
“Adapted to the needs of man,
“Made love the basis of the plan,—
“Did love, as was demonstrated:
“While man, who was so fit instead,
To hate, as every day gave proof,—
You thought man, for his kind’s behoof,
“Both could and would invent that scheme
Of perfect love—’twould well beseem
“Cain’s nature thou wast wont to praise,
“Not tally with God’s usual ways!”

XXXI.
And I cowered deprecatingly—
‘Thou Love of God! Or let me die,
‘Or grant what shall seem Heaven almost!
‘Let me not know that all is lost,
‘Though lost it be—leave me not tied
To this despair, this corpse-like bride!
‘Let that old life seem mine—no more—
‘With limitation as before,
‘With darkness, hunger, toil, distress:
‘Be all the earth a wilderness!
‘Only let me go on, go on,
‘Still hoping ever and anon
To reach one eve the Better Land!’

XXXII.
Then did the Form expand, expand—
I knew Him through the dread disguise,
As the whole God within his eyes
Embraced me.

XXXIII.
When I lived again,
The day was breaking,—the grey plain
I rose from, silvered thick with dew.
Was this a vision? False or true?
Since then, three varied years are spent,
And commonly my mind is bent
To think it was a dream—be sure
A mere dream and distemperature—
The last days watching: then the night,—
The shock of that strange Northern Light
Set my head swimming, bred in me
A dream. And so I live, you see,
Go through the world, try, prove, reject,
Prefer, still struggling to effect
My warfare; happy that I can
Be crossed and thwarted as a man,
Not left in God’s contempt apart,
With ghastly smooth life, dead at heart,
Tame in earth’s paddock as her prize.
Thank God she still each method tries
To catch me, who may yet escape,
She knows, the fiend in angel’s shape!
Thank God, no paradise stands barred
To entry, and I find it hard
To be a Christian, as I said!
Still every now and then my head
Raised glad, sinks mournful—all grows drear
Spite of the sunshine, while I fear
And think, ‘How dreadful to be grudged
‘No ease henceforth, as one that’s judged,
‘Condemned to earth for ever, shut
‘From Heaven’ . .
But Easter-Day breaks! But
Christ rises! Mercy every way
Is infinite,—and who can say?

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slUmdOg's cHase for liFe

Born with nothing, marked by poverty
Lived like a dog, treated impatiently and unhuman,
Discrimination received, mocks from the upper kind
Until when and where will they run?

Run, your kind, run!
Fill your stomach, battle hard for survival,
You, who's surrounded by other's greed
Whom you will seek for help?

Trusted no one but yourself
You chose to chase life on what you know is best,
The aftermath of what you chose will give you rest!

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 way Of Life

Now spiritualism is a big part of my life
It doesn't come to us all so how lucky am I
I'm honerd and humble to be chosen for this
I don't take it for granted just as a gift

Now I try to meditate every day
To connect with the spirits high above me
I'm never alone there always near by 
When ever I need them I don't need to try

The way I see life is different you see
As the spirit lives on in you and in me
Not everybody believes in the things I do
We all have free will and that includes you 

The people I help and the people I meet
From all walks of life some poor and some rich
The feeling you get with emotions so high
Reunited with loved ones from days gone by

Just remember this life-force inside you and me 
Has been here before, for eternity
You travel your journey on this path that is set
And if you don't complete it you'll travel it again

So remember this poem when living your life
Be kind to each other, give love and give light
Because living your life should be exciting you see
And living it twice would be a wast to me

By kevin Glenn 
20-09-2010 

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Light Day and Night

A golden rain falls down

A golden dawn

A golden age

At last a Angel appears

She dreamt ever so sweetly

The rain comes down
Like a song
An angel plays a harp
A bird dances
And Joy is echoing
In the footsteps
And the shoes are running
As if with wings

A round the tree
Under the sun, angels dance
In circles and all night too
A large bee is sitting
As an angel blows in its ear
A purple rose appears

An angel bows, his head

Into the silence
And on his pillow

Sleeps with tears
Of love streaming down.
A dove calls and moves
Towards the Light

All angels sing
A fog comes down

An angel sings
Three angel’s wings
Spread out for flight

An eagle flies across the sky
Sharing a nest with a diamond
An angel flies by singing
So all the trees can grow
A sun is setting
Over a deep forest
All the birds and animals
Are sleeping now
A moon comes up
And some stars
And all the world

A star is singing about joy
Of the waves on the ocean
And the fish in the sea

And the dolphins jump

And a wave is running by
As a boat has many masts
Moves forwards, backwards
A song dissolves into the mists
Like a poem that soon passes
An angel is swishing
Above and below
And now a moon looks on
A rose grows
Ever so slowly
A candle burns quietly
A snail loves to walk

On the grass in the morning
And an angel flies home in the night
This is a prayer, given to the air

When the rains come down
And the tears fall, I will be

Holding you firm in my wings
I will step in the Shadows before you

The angel’s feather blows across
The wide skies, it falls at my feet
To my surprise it intrigues me
It warms me. it warns me
That love is coming
That truth is foretold
And that I am witnessed
I am a witness to love
Angel love of feathers keen.
Light feathers wanting to be
A song that comes down
Is sung, is light
A heart reaches out this day
No Night. a dream is shared
Angel’s wings, angel’s might
And a gift is brought into being
This cannot be matched
Under heaven and earth.
This truth has been granted
And a blessing to health.
Guard it, know it well
As it sings through the universe
As an angel would sing
In the morning as birds
Watch by, two feathers fall

From her graceful wings
Messages from the departed.
Various melodies are calling
Various paths back to her heart

Love’s refined and refrain.
And in that morning mist
When all around seems filled
Future dreams are lurking, waiting
For the moment when paths
Shall cross. Their Light shall shine

The water that runs smoothly
Downhill, over grass, and weeds
And flowers, all the same
As An angel carries an urn
Filled with birds, and treasures
And messages and laughter
Her heart opens up like a flower
And her feet dance as in the snow
All the ancestors stand up in smile
A Vague moon, showers its peace
And doves flies over

As an angel starts a journey
Coming home to all things
Small and great
I listened for the heart beat
Eternal, justified, complete
In the twinkling of an eye
The Journey had begun
Life was carrying me before it
In its Arms and in its way
Towards a destination pure
And sweet and at peace
Love was my joy was my family
Nature was before me
My Justice my guide
The veils of truth were parting
Layer after layer, tide after tide
In rhythms of rain and sunlight
And warmth. was born again…

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Quality In Productivity Requires Rest

beware the heavy load
millstone around weighted neck
working night and day

24/7 without rest
when overtired
when exhausted

world becomes a darker place
depression may predatory lurk
leave an adequate rest space

be careful take care
body can take only so much wear
mind needs a rest gear


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Walt Whitman

O Me! O Life!

O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities fill'd with the
foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I,
and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light--of the objects mean--of the
struggle ever renew'd;
Of the poor results of all--of the plodding and sordid crowds I see
around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest--with the rest me
intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O
life?

Answer.

That you are here--that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

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How Did You Rest, Last Night?

'How did you rest, last night?'--
I've heard my gran'pap say
Them words a thousand times--that's right--
Jes them words thataway!
As punctchul-like as morning dast
To ever heave in sight
Gran'pap 'ud allus haf to ast--
'How did you rest, last night?'

Us young-uns used to grin,
At breakfast, on the sly,
And mock the wobble of his chin
And eyebrows belt so high
And kind: _'How did you rest, last night?'_
We'd mumble and let on
Our voices trimbled, and our sight
Was dim, and hearin' gone.

* * * * *

Bad as I used to be,
All I'm a-wantin' is
As puore and ca'm a sleep fer me
And sweet a sleep as his!
And so I pray, on Jedgment Day
To wake, and with its light
See _his_ face dawn, and hear him say--
'How did you rest, last night?'

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Miracle Of Life

Sometimes our lives are filled
with great moments
that will always remain in our mind.
Some are more significant than others,
always trapped in time
for you to always remember.
One of the greatest moments
in anyone’s life
is witnessing the miracle of life.
I remember not wanting
to see my son born,
I had heard so many gory stories
I did not want to be there.
Then at the last moment
I changed my mind,
I stood there holding my wife’s hand
as the miracle of life
happened right before my eyes.
After it was over I yawned,
suddenly the delivery room broke into pandemonium
when someone shouted, “The fathers fainting, get him out! ”
All I did was yawn under the mask I wore.
With that, they hustled me out for some fresh air.
However, I smile at that now.
However, my advice to any father
who gets the chance to see his child born -
take it and relish it for the rest of your life.

12 November 2008

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