That makes my heart smile.
But do not miss me
When our love's blown out to sea.
Because now our lives
Have been worthwhile.
We are free.
It's How I Feel
It's not something you and I do…
Not when it matters
We talk about the weather
We discuss the benign events in our life
I hold back
So you hold back
There's a calculated way we have
That masks some very non-calculated feelings
No matter how cool
No matter how calm
No matter how calculated
How unattached our conversation
They manage to bubble to the surface
Demanding to make themselves known
In some very non-calculated moments
You think of me
Or I of you
Where, it's not longer so easy to control
Where something has to be said
Just to be said
I take a step in the direction of being transparent
Only to go back and cover it all up
Hide as much as I can
You were better at saying what you really felt
However I think my lack of reaction
Have taught you to hide
I admit I miss the way things once were
When you were more willing to try
More open with what you were thinking
More willing to communicate
I know I didn't react
But it always made me smile
Sometimes I feel… you're trying to spare my feelings
Because, perhaps you know, I feel
And, you've simply changed your mind
I wish we could just speak plainly
I wish we could just have an exchange
What's really on our minds
If I sit back and look at the patterns of me and you
If I look at all that you do to show me how you feel
Without the utterance of a word..
It makes my heart smile
And, I hope somewhere in our acquaintance
I've managed to illustrate the same
I hope there have been times
I too have made your realize
It's not just you
Only Your Smile Makes My Heart Shine
Sometimes i'm happy laughing,
Enjoying each moment of life, or sometimes,
Cold of loneliness is wrapping me,
And my heart feels withdrawn.
But when the dawn are coming,
And i'm opening my eyes,
The first thing that i see is your smile,
That embrace my being with love and light.
How could i ever be sad,
When your sweetness is surounding me,
How could i ever be lost,
When your eyes shine passion looking at me?
Wherever i go, i'm followed by your smile,
With two brown charming eyes besides,
Is not a smile i would ever forget,
In this magnetic smile my whole world resides.
Nothing in this world is like your smile,
No one can bring me that infinite delight,
Only your smile awakes in me feminity,
Only your smile makes my heart shine.
At Last My Heart Smile
as sun sets down into earths bed
the sky is filled with blazing red
behold the moon as it rise to the sky
for the night has come as time pass by
Into this place i watch them move
a solitary soul in this lonely room
the sky, stars and the moon embrace
i can see a glimpse of smile in my face
As the night cold wind whisper in my ears
i listen to my soul, i hear it sing
i gaze to the moon, star and sky
all wounds are healed, at last my heart smile
Kiss Me, Kiss You
Kiss me, I know you want to
Kiss you, because I want to
Lips soft like butter
When you kiss me it makes my heart flutter
Kiss you, makes my heart sing
Kiss me, I hear the bells ring
With this love, it's not a thing
Holding me back
Do you feel me quiver?
Do you feel me shiver?
I don't need to have you
Inside of me to feel love
Kiss me, passion as our lips meet
Passion as we feel the heat
Kiss me, I want to feel free
Kiss you, come closer come and see
Love to most is the same
But with us our lips is the game
Sonnet 133: Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
Beshrew that heart that makes my heart to groan
For that deep wound it gives my friend and me!
Is't not enough to torture me alone,
But slave to slavery my sweet'st friend must be?
Me from my self thy cruel eye hath taken,
And my next self thou harder hast engrossed.
Of him, myself, and thee I am forsaken—
A torment thrice threefold thus to be crossed.
Prison my heart in thy steel bosom's ward,
But then my friend's heart let my poor heart bail;
Whoe'er keeps me, let my heart be his guard,
Thou canst not then use rigour in my jail.
And yet thou wilt; for I, being pent in thee,
Perforce am thine, and all that is in me.
My body is an adult.
But my heart is a child.
I give cause it's loving.
And it makes my heart smile.
Some say I'm too sensitive.
When they make my heart cry.
Their words can be cutting.
Or thoughts they imply.
Young at heart so they say.
Love so tender and pure.
Your unloving intentions.
My child heart insecure.
It took most of my life.
To know what was true.
To pursue what you love,
Love what you pursue.
Lesson from an angel.
It is my belief.
Let me steal back your heart.
But not like a thief.
My time machine heart.
Once hard like a rock,
Now soft like a kitten.
Reversing the clock.
My love it has changed.
Your heart I will cherish.
With it far away.
My child heart will parish.
Love, it is simple.
It's so black and white.
Yet we make it so gray.
Like clouds hide sunlight.
Now I love like a child.
Cause I have a child heart.
Let it bring us together.
Let us have a new start.
LENEXA BAPTIST CHURCH = The Seed of Love
No rope or cable can hold so tight
What love can do with twine.
No kiss can taste so bittersweet
As the one which captures our mind.
The first sign of love is the last of wisdom
As eager hearts fulfill desire.
Love is just a staple of life
Though heaven sparks the fire.
Heaven knows no rage like love
Once to hatred it has turned.
How wise are we who are such fools
Who forget the lessons we've learned.
Love, indeed, descends from heaven
Like a shooting star across the sky.
Love sometimes stirs the dust,
Till tears fall free from the eye.
You're the bone of my bones
Who I love for my wife.
The flesh of my flesh
And my partner in life.
For me to have and to hold
For better or for worse.
To love and to cherish
Though we might fight and curse.
Be I richer or poorer
Till death makes us part
I will give you great portions
Of my soul and my heart.
Heaven won't be heaven
If I don 't see you there
May the first to go
Be me, is my prayer.
The first stage of a family group
Begins with husband and wife.
Shelters are rented, bought or built
As they yearn for more from life.
Families are found throughout the world
In bone clusters buried in caves
Where ancient people lived and loved
'Till death placed them in their graves.
Humans still have that need to group
As a family to survive
They love and care for each other
In the world in which they strive.
Families are a nation's crown jewels
Far more than a golden coin.
Members find love and sympathy
From the groups they've chosen to join.
Tears are the raindrops of the soul
And there's one for all who die.
They are the silent words of grief
As they fall free from the eye.
The shortest verse in the Bible
Is the one where Jesus wept
So, if you hold back tears, 'shed them'
When your pains too harsh to accept.
Tears are lovelier than a smile
When they come from those you love.
As they seek relief from sadness
When you're summoned from above.
Tears are a love-mates humble gift
When it's time to say goodbye
Though the eyes are wet and swollen
With time and patience they dry.
LOVE & ELECTRICITY
Love and electricity are a lot alike
For we never seem to miss them till their gone.
We need both, every day of our life
And even more so between twilight and dawn.
Love resembles a self-consuming amber
A static current of both pain and pleasure.
It can warm our bed and lighten the darkness
And for most who don 't have it, it's a treasure.
We can turn it on or we can turn it off
Depending on whatever we're forced to do.
It may shock us, please us, thrill us, or hurt us
Though once without it, we can't wait to renew.
THE SEED OF LOVE
A kindly woman can make a sad man sing
With her love and affection winter seems like spring.
Of all the pleasures in life given to a man
There's nothing beats the touch of a woman's soft hand.
God saw Adam alone on Eden's floor
Then decided to give him Eve's love and much more.
So take what you need from she chosen for you
Then rid thyself of others and to her be true.
The Lord planted love within mankind's heart
Though things can grow sour when from Him we depart.
Love and hate are but two sides of life's golden coin
So be ready for both no matter whom you join.
Tom Zart Poems Are Free To Copy To Teach Or Show Love And Support!
By Conservative Poet &
Soldier For The Lord
Most Published Poet
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It's simple really
To make my heart smile
Even if you aren't around
Even when you're away
It's strange really
Because sometimes all I have to do
Is think of the last time
The last conversation
The last time I saw
It makes my day brighter
Makes me forget my troubles
Makes me remember
Reminds me of you
It makes my heart smile
Before I know it
I'm smiling too
An Easter Prayer
Insecurity in myself and lack of self esteem caused me to place the expectations on others.
I hoped they would fill me up.
Only You could do that.
I am worthy.
You made me look within
At how exactly my actions have been affecting others
Satan used this to tell me I was not worthy
But Jesus died on the cross to tell me I am.
Thank You Jesus for your gift and for always believing in me
Even before I was born
Even though I didn't believe in You or myself
I love you Jesus and thank You.
In your name.
You died on the cross for me, but you live in me today!
It makes my heart smile!
Love Sonnet 49 Oh Smile To Me, Not Of Dreams Remembered,
Oh smile to me, not of dreams remembered,
Nor of prurient notes once recalled, rephrased,
Not of melodies from songs remastered,
Nor from love, Time has not fully erased;
But smile of Spring returned, that now has sprang,
Of morn that boasts of skies so blue and warm,
When hearts have played in tune, and birds have sang,
Of love rooted too deep, for drought to harm;
But Fate has bad luck so riddled my plight,
This joy seems an excess of its goodwill,
Or this might be another oversight,
That love it left to find your heart to fill;
.....But smiles can show or hide what has been true,
.....Like love that hearts may not or may imbue.
Sweetie, Start the Day with a Smile
Sweetie, start the day with a smile
Your smile always melts my heart
So I am here imagining that you are smiling
It brings out the best face for you
Smile, you are so lovely smiling Sweetie
I hope you slept and have woken up well
I know you are as lovely as ever
I pray that you have a lovely song in your heart
I hope you are happy this morning
All these come out when you are smiling Sweetie
Because your face is the mirror of your heart
Smile is the language of joy and love
Smile is a way to a successful day
Smile every moment that's worth living
Your smile wins my heart Sweetie
So keep a smile on your face today!
I keep smiling by imagining your smile
Your smile is the diamond on Sweetie's face
Unspoken Heart Song
Subtle notes fly upon the breeze, notes coming from a guitar of the night.
The guitar plays sweetly for its master, for its gentle master.
The master is a young man, trying to find himself.
A young man with eyes full of care, behind these fair eyes a heart full of love.
You can hear his heart’s song on the breeze, for he plays from his heart.
His eyes meet mine, and I cannot help but feel at peace, the song makes my heart hum with delight.
I can feel the love held inside him, even though he does not play for me.
He is playing the same song that plays in the heart of his darling; his song is calling to her.
“Come home, come home to me darling. I am calling you, can’t you hear me? ”
Is the unspoken song on the breeze.
The Truth of Love
The Truth of Love
The truth of love between a man and woman,
Doesn’t simplify appear,
It resides in the lighted tender abyss
In the depths of receded affection it is surrounded by cupids of amore.
Songs of praise are rise to this meaning,
Bring froth a bond for the couple.
The truth of love becomes part of them,
It never shows itself because it is.
The truth of love is such a tight bond,
Nothing comes between the kiss, the look, the glance, each smile upon one another.
The truth of love is two hearts beating one,
Each heart knowing what the other will mean.
The truth of love becomes evident when the touch is beyond tender,
The argument understood.
When one partner forgives the other partner which is truly forgiving.
While true love is indefinable it is not unattainable.
Please Remember Me
Should tomorrow start without me
Remember I love you.
Looking down from up above
Seeing everything you do.
If I become a casualty
I pray you will love again
Whom ever makes you happy
I'll consider my friend.
Should tomorrow start without me
Remind our boys, God loves all who care.
And when life seems too harsh and cruel
With 'Him' they must share their prayer.
I have proven I'm not a coward
Who breaks and runs to survive.
Always fearing death will kiss me
As the streets of Baghdad I drive.
Should tomorrow start without me
Be proud I choose to serve.
Our faith and our patriotism
Earn the freedom we deserve.
I miss home more than ever
It breaks my heart to stay away
I can't help but want to hold you
And whisper what I say.
Tom's 480 Poems Are Free To Share!
By God's Poet
Most Published Poet
On The Web!
God Made Your Lips
God made your lips for me to kiss. Your hands for me to hold.
God made your smile for me to miss and treasure more than gold.
God made your ears so I could tell how beautiful you are.
God made your eyes to cast a spell, no matter, near or far.
God made your arms to hold me tight each time before I leave.
God made your legs to stir delight like Adam saw in Eve.
God made your doubts to fade away, for years have come and gone.
God made your joys thank Him each day our love goes on and on.
God made your heart a lot like mine - hold fast to what God says.
God made you my sweet Valentine, you're always in my prayers.
God made your mind, your memories, your dreams and all you're worth.
God made you precious so you'd please the luckiest man on Earth!
God made your blessings one by one and when I look at you,
I wonder what great thing I've done that you should love me, too.
That soft scented flower.
Between the rocks of my life.
In that desert of no hope.
Dying of thirst.
Must float away or burst.
The lips of death.
Between a beating heart
And a lovers last breath.
From the clouds
In the crowds.
That sunstruck smile.
From the wand of a wizard
Of a lake
That doesn't exist.
Like the first time we kissed.
Like a bird of silver wing.
In silent sky.
Froze in its flight.
Memory in white.
As brushstrokes of black
From the dragons mouth.
Forcing migrant dreams
To fly south.
A far off spirit
With sweet eyes,
Like a bell
Of Sunday sacrament.
Lost in a haze
Of unsaid goodbyes.
Blown out to sea
On the hiss of a wind.
That love never pinned
On its sleeve.
Our bright star,
And forgotten cantata
Will kiss those ghosts
We all grieve.
Lost Hope Or Another Chance X876?
Im here im there im somewhere but im no where im up but im down im goto my right but then i march to my left i see darkness i see the light i see both and i see neither i have hope but dont trust it cant be hopeless but cant and shouldnt be sad should be happier but am nothing other then how i am i wish to be someone and not be a no one i know that in my mind i can be number one and not not be last but in my heart i feel disgraced feel lost wandering thru the darkest halls of eternity a madness my heart races it beats it pounds my very chest at this feeling of complete and total lonliness but yet sumhow way deep down in my very soul laying dormat a thought of happiness a pursuit a glimmer of faith my memory fades slowly but not yet must always remember first and formost if there is but anything other then sadness or sorrow in my future then i seem beaten but not yet my mind races deep down in my subconscious a thought of an angel so pure so beautiful so sweet and so devine so fine thy very memory of angelia (angel) makes my heart smile breaks these very bonds of sadness that holds me deep down in this darkness in my mind the very thought of her very essence releases me of this my mind my soul i feel as if ive risen from the dead and come back to life allover again but yet tis only but a thought but indeed is but a good thought so now there fore i am on the path but to where only i will know as i walk out of darkness and step out onto the path to light and follow my instinct for my heart beats at the very thought of angel to see an old freind like her again would lift anyone out darkness.
gone from this torement gone from this life this what this needlessness pointlessness of an existence that falls away and goes back to the darkness lost to the light of distant starliight up in yonder heavens far and away is everything to me now and forever more away is everything sucked into a black hole of forever dread the eternal struggle of this life the darkness of shadows fills up yer life full of hate pity sorrow and anger ur heart gets broken bustbeated bashed in to amillion peices all seprated from the whole follow the path of broken enlightenment see how far u can go into the deep dark whole the world is nolonger what it was once like good and bright and happiness all round now the wind blows a soft whisper callinin ur name to ur doom this loom what is this life what has it held for u and everyone esle what is but one mans life but a tear dropp into the pool of eternity ur life is jus but a mere speck of grain and and dust after it has all settles eveything is but torn upside down uprooted the struggles this broken soul spilt in half one half falls to the darkness the other falls into the devine eternal light which path do u follow where but from here would u go tothe dark lonely path that leads to an ever never endning exile of self pity or u go into the light were u hear angel singin off in the very distant endless feilds of happiness endless ness of this ever more ever expanding hopelessness this dreay life run far get going make it make it happin nuthign is but a lost cause a crusade that takes u far and off but into forever u go til the end ond of time it self to the very edge of this destruction u have to construct a new beginning a new meaning build anew life after uve picked up all the pieces to ur broken and shattered heart ur eyes are red full o anger and but you see her beautiful smile of forever u think back to the girl that u wanted to know and be with always be a freidn til the end think bout her makes my heart smile i fel like i wanna shine forever wne i talk to her all darkness leaves my soul one with the universe feel i do it is a great feeling no more longer mad bout anything in this life bak on track re upped reloaded a second shot at life or love gone and away with this ever increasin pointlessness up up and away goto towards the heavens fly takew ur place in history do sumthing wonderful sumtin nice sumtin u never dun before follow the rainbow life and all its myriad colors go til the very end itself be one with everything and accept life for its upmost beauty life is but a gift from thy gods that we dnt hav a choice but we can but decide what to do with this gift until the end so what ever you choose in life choose it wisely.
Gotham - Book III
Can the fond mother from herself depart?
Can she forget the darling of her heart,
The little darling whom she bore and bred,
Nursed on her knees, and at her bosom fed;
To whom she seem'd her every thought to give,
And in whose life alone she seem'd to live?
Yes, from herself the mother may depart,
She may forget the darling of her heart,
The little darling whom she bore and bred,
Nursed on her knees, and at her bosom fed,
To whom she seem'd her every thought to give,
And in whose life alone she seem'd to live;
But I cannot forget, whilst life remains,
And pours her current through these swelling veins,
Whilst Memory offers up at Reason's shrine;
But I cannot forget that Gotham's mine.
Can the stern mother, than the brutes more wild,
From her disnatured breast tear her young child,
Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone,
And dash the smiling babe against a stone?
Yes, the stern mother, than the brutes more wild,
From her disnatured breast may tear her child,
Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone,
And dash the smiling babe against a stone;
But I, (forbid it, Heaven!) but I can ne'er
The love of Gotham from this bosom tear;
Can ne'er so far true royalty pervert
From its fair course, to do my people hurt.
With how much ease, with how much confidence--
As if, superior to each grosser sense,
Reason had only, in full power array'd,
To manifest her will, and be obey'd--
Men make resolves, and pass into decrees
The motions of the mind! with how much ease,
In such resolves, doth passion make a flaw,
And bring to nothing what was raised to law!
In empire young, scarce warm on Gotham's throne,
The dangers and the sweets of power unknown,
Pleased, though I scarce know why, like some young child,
Whose little senses each new toy turns wild,
How do I hold sweet dalliance with my crown,
And wanton with dominion, how lay down,
Without the sanction of a precedent,
Rules of most large and absolute extent;
Rules, which from sense of public virtue spring,
And all at once commence a Patriot King!
But, for the day of trial is at hand,
And the whole fortunes of a mighty land
Are staked on me, and all their weal or woe
Must from my good or evil conduct flow,
Will I, or can I, on a fair review,
As I assume that name, deserve it too?
Have I well weigh'd the great, the noble part
I'm now to play? have I explored my heart,
That labyrinth of fraud, that deep dark cell,
Where, unsuspected e'en by me, may dwell
Ten thousand follies? have I found out there
What I am fit to do, and what to bear?
Have I traced every passion to its rise,
Nor spared one lurking seed of treacherous vice?
Have I familiar with my nature grown?
And am I fairly to myself made known?
A Patriot King!--why, 'tis a name which bears
The more immediate stamp of Heaven; which wears
The nearest, best resemblance we can show
Of God above, through all his works below.
To still the voice of Discord in the land;
To make weak Faction's discontented band,
Detected, weak, and crumbling to decay,
With hunger pinch'd, on their own vitals prey;
Like brethren, in the self-same interests warm'd,
Like different bodies, with one soul inform'd;
To make a nation, nobly raised above
All meaner thought, grow up in common love;
To give the laws due vigour, and to hold
That secret balance, temperate, yet bold,
With such an equal hand, that those who fear
May yet approve, and own my justice clear;
To be a common father, to secure
The weak from violence, from pride the poor;
Vice and her sons to banish in disgrace,
To make Corruption dread to show her face;
To bid afflicted Virtue take new state,
And be at last acquainted with the great;
Of all religions to elect the best,
Nor let her priests be made a standing jest;
Rewards for worth with liberal hand to carve,
To love the arts, nor let the artists starve;
To make fair Plenty through the realm increase,
Give fame in war, and happiness in peace;
To see my people virtuous, great, and free,
And know that all those blessings flow from me;
Oh! 'tis a joy too exquisite, a thought
Which flatters Nature more than flattery ought;
'Tis a great, glorious task, for man too hard;
But no less great, less glorious the reward,
The best reward which here to man is given,
'Tis more than earth, and little short of heaven;
A task (if such comparison may be)
The same in Nature, differing in degree,
Like that which God, on whom for aid I call,
Performs with ease, and yet performs to all.
How much do they mistake, how little know
Of kings, of kingdoms, and the pains which flow
From royalty, who fancy that a crown,
Because it glistens, must be lined with down!
With outside show, and vain appearance caught,
They look no further, and, by Folly taught,
Prize high the toys of thrones, but never find
One of the many cares which lurk behind.
The gem they worship which a crown adorns,
Nor once suspect that crown is lined with thorns.
Oh, might Reflection Folly's place supply,
Would we one moment use her piercing eye,
Then should we find what woe from grandeur springs,
And learn to pity, not to envy kings!
The villager, born humbly and bred hard,
Content his wealth, and Poverty his guard,
In action simply just, in conscience clear,
By guilt untainted, undisturb'd by fear,
His means but scanty, and his wants but few,
Labour his business, and his pleasure too,
Enjoys more comforts in a single hour
Than ages give the wretch condemn'd to power.
Call'd up by health, he rises with the day,
And goes to work, as if he went to play,
Whistling off toils, one half of which might make
The stoutest Atlas of a palace quake;
'Gainst heat and cold, which make us cowards faint,
Harden'd by constant use, without complaint
He bears what we should think it death to bear;
Short are his meals, and homely is his fare;
His thirst he slakes at some pure neighbouring brook,
Nor asks for sauce where appetite stands cook.
When the dews fall, and when the sun retires
Behind the mountains, when the village fires,
Which, waken'd all at once, speak supper nigh,
At distance catch, and fix his longing eye,
Homeward he hies, and with his manly brood
Of raw-boned cubs enjoys that clean, coarse food,
Which, season'd with good-humour, his fond bride
'Gainst his return is happy to provide;
Then, free from care, and free from thought, he creeps
Into his straw, and till the morning sleeps.
Not so the king--with anxious cares oppress'd
His bosom labours, and admits not rest:
A glorious wretch, he sweats beneath the weight
Of majesty, and gives up ease for state.
E'en when his smiles, which, by the fools of pride,
Are treasured and preserved from side to side,
Fly round the court, e'en when, compell'd by form,
He seems most calm, his soul is in a storm.
Care, like a spectre, seen by him alone,
With all her nest of vipers, round his throne
By day crawls full in view; when Night bids sleep,
Sweet nurse of Nature! o'er the senses creep;
When Misery herself no more complains,
And slaves, if possible, forget their chains;
Though his sense weakens, though his eyes grow dim,
That rest which comes to all, comes not to him.
E'en at that hour, Care, tyrant Care, forbids
The dew of sleep to fall upon his lids;
From night to night she watches at his bed;
Now, as one moped, sits brooding o'er his head;
Anon she starts, and, borne on raven's wings,
Croaks forth aloud--'Sleep was not made for kings!'
Thrice hath the moon, who governs this vast ball,
Who rules most absolute o'er me and all;
To whom, by full conviction taught to bow,
At new, at full, I pay the duteous vow;
Thrice hath the moon her wonted course pursued,
Thrice hath she lost her form, and thrice renew'd,
Since, (bless'd be that season, for before
I was a mere, mere mortal, and no more,
One of the herd, a lump of common clay,
Inform'd with life, to die and pass away)
Since I became a king, and Gotham's throne,
With full and ample power, became my own;
Thrice hath the moon her wonted course pursued,
Thrice hath she lost her form, and thrice renew'd,
Since sleep, kind sleep! who like a friend supplies
New vigour for new toil, hath closed these eyes.
Nor, if my toils are answer'd with success,
And I am made an instrument to bless
The people whom I love, shall I repine;
Theirs be the benefit, the labour mine.
Mindful of that high rank in which I stand,
Of millions lord, sole ruler in the land,
Let me,--and Reason shall her aid afford,--
Rule my own spirit, of myself be lord.
With an ill grace that monarch wears his crown,
Who, stern and hard of nature, wears a frown
'Gainst faults in other men, yet all the while
Meets his own vices with a partial smile.
How can a king (yet on record we find
Such kings have been, such curses of mankind)
Enforce that law 'gainst some poor subject elf
Which conscience tells him he hath broke himself?
Can he some petty rogue to justice call
For robbing one, when he himself robs all?
Must not, unless extinguish'd, Conscience fly
Into his cheek, and blast his fading eye,
To scourge the oppressor, when the State, distress'd
And sunk to ruin, is by him oppress'd?
Against himself doth he not sentence give;
If one must die, t' other's not fit to live.
Weak is that throne, and in itself unsound,
Which takes not solid virtue for its ground.
All envy power in others, and complain
Of that which they would perish to obtain.
Nor can those spirits, turbulent and bold,
Not to be awed by threats, nor bought with gold,
Be hush'd to peace, but when fair legal sway
Makes it their real interest to obey;
When kings, and none but fools can then rebel,
Not less in virtue, than in power, excel.
Be that my object, that my constant care,
And may my soul's best wishes centre there;
Be it my task to seek, nor seek in vain,
Not only how to live, but how to reign;
And to those virtues which from Reason spring,
And grace the man, join those which grace the king.
First, (for strict duty bids my care extend
And reach to all who on that care depend,
Bids me with servants keep a steady hand,
And watch o'er all my proxies in the land)
First, (and that method Reason shall support)
Before I look into, and purge my court,
Before I cleanse the stable of the State,
Let me fix things which to myself relate.
That done, and all accounts well settled here,
In resolution firm, in honour clear,
Tremble, ye slaves! who dare abuse your trust,
Who dare be villains, when your king is just.
Are there, amongst those officers of state,
To whom our sacred power we delegate,
Who hold our place and office in the realm,
Who, in our name commission'd, guide the helm;
Are there, who, trusting to our love of ease,
Oppress our subjects, wrest our just decrees,
And make the laws, warp'd from their fair intent,
To speak a language which they never meant;
Are there such men, and can the fools depend
On holding out in safety to their end?
Can they so much, from thoughts of danger free,
Deceive themselves, so much misdeem of me,
To think that I will prove a statesman's tool,
And live a stranger where I ought to rule?
What! to myself and to my state unjust,
Shall I from ministers take things on trust,
And, sinking low the credit of my throne,
Depend upon dependants of my own?
Shall I,--most certain source of future cares,--
Not use my judgment, but depend on theirs?
Shall I, true puppet-like, be mock'd with state,
Have nothing but the name of being great;
Attend at councils which I must not weigh;
Do what they bid, and what they dictate, say;
Enrobed, and hoisted up into my chair,
Only to be a royal cipher there?
Perish the thought--'tis treason to my throne--
And who but thinks it, could his thoughts be known
Insults me more than he, who, leagued with Hell,
Shall rise in arms, and 'gainst my crown rebel.
The wicked statesman, whose false heart pursues
A train of guilt; who acts with double views,
And wears a double face; whose base designs
Strike at his monarch's throne; who undermines
E'en whilst he seems his wishes to support;
Who seizes all departments; packs a court;
Maintains an agent on the judgment-seat,
To screen his crimes, and make his frauds complete;
New-models armies, and around the throne
Will suffer none but creatures of his own,
Conscious of such his baseness, well may try,
Against the light to shut his master's eye,
To keep him coop'd, and far removed from those
Who, brave and honest, dare his crimes disclose,
Nor ever let him in one place appear,
Where truth, unwelcome truth, may wound his ear.
Attempts like these, well weigh'd, themselves proclaim,
And, whilst they publish, balk their author's aim.
Kings must be blind into such snares to run,
Or, worse, with open eyes must be undone.
The minister of honesty and worth
Demands the day to bring his actions forth;
Calls on the sun to shine with fiercer rays,
And braves that trial which must end in praise.
None fly the day, and seek the shades of night,
But those whose actions cannot bear the light;
None wish their king in ignorance to hold
But those who feel that knowledge must unfold
Their hidden guilt; and, that dark mist dispell'd
By which their places and their lives are held,
Confusion wait them, and, by Justice led,
In vengeance fall on every traitor's head.
Aware of this, and caution'd 'gainst the pit
Where kings have oft been lost, shall I submit,
And rust in chains like these? shall I give way,
And whilst my helpless subjects fall a prey
To power abused, in ignorance sit down,
Nor dare assert the honour of my crown?
When stern Rebellion, (if that odious name
Justly belongs to those whose only aim,
Is to preserve their country; who oppose,
In honour leagued, none but their country's foes;
Who only seek their own, and found their cause
In due regard for violated laws)
When stern Rebellion, who no longer feels
Nor fears rebuke, a nation at her heels,
A nation up in arms, though strong not proud,
Knocks at the palace gate, and, calling loud
For due redress, presents, from Truth's fair pen,
A list of wrongs, not to be borne by men:
How must that king be humbled, how disgrace
All that is royal in his name and place,
Who, thus call'd forth to answer, can advance
No other plea but that of ignorance!
A vile defence, which, was his all at stake,
The meanest subject well might blush to make;
A filthy source, from whence shame ever springs;
A stain to all, but most a stain to kings.
The soul with great and manly feelings warm'd,
Panting for knowledge, rests not till inform'd;
And shall not I, fired with the glorious zeal,
Feel those brave passions which my subjects feel?
Or can a just excuse from ignorance flow
To me, whose first great duty is--to know?
Hence, Ignorance!--thy settled, dull, blank eye
Would hurt me, though I knew no reason why.
Hence, Ignorance!--thy slavish shackles bind
The free-born soul, and lethargise the mind.
Of thee, begot by Pride, who look'd with scorn
On every meaner match, of thee was born
That grave inflexibility of soul,
Which Reason can't convince, nor Fear control;
Which neither arguments nor prayers can reach,
And nothing less than utter ruin teach.
Hence, Ignorance!--hence to that depth of night
Where thou wast born, where not one gleam of light
May wound thine eye--hence to some dreary cell
Where monks with superstition love to dwell;
Or in some college soothe thy lazy pride,
And with the heads of colleges reside;
Fit mate for Royalty thou canst not be,
And if no mate for kings, no mate for me.
Come, Study! like a torrent swell'd with rains,
Which, rushing down the mountains, o'er the plains
Spreads horror wide, and yet, in horror kind,
Leaves seeds of future fruitfulness behind;
Come, Study!--painful though thy course, and slow,
Thy real worth by thy effects we know--
Parent of Knowledge, come!--Not thee I call,
Who, grave and dull, in college or in hall
Dost sit, all solemn sad, and moping weigh
Things which, when found, thy labours can't repay--
Nor, in one hand, fit emblem of thy trade,
A rod; in t' other, gaudily array'd,
A hornbook gilt and letter'd, call I thee,
Who dost in form preside o'er A, B, C:
Nor (siren though thou art, and thy strange charms,
As 'twere by magic, lure men to thine arms)
Do I call thee, who, through a winding maze,
A labyrinth of puzzling, pleasing ways,
Dost lead us at the last to those rich plains,
Where, in full glory, real Science reigns;
Fair though thou art, and lovely to mine eye,
Though full rewards in thy possession lie
To crown man's wish, and do thy favourites grace;
Though (was I station'd in an humbler place)
I could be ever happy in thy sight,
Toil with thee all the day, and through the night,
Toil on from watch to watch, bidding my eye,
Fast rivetted on Science, sleep defy;
Yet (such the hardships which from empire flow)
Must I thy sweet society forego,
And to some happy rival's arms resign
Those charms which can, alas! no more be mine!
No more from hour to hour, from day to day,
Shall I pursue thy steps, and urge my way
Where eager love of science calls; no more
Attempt those paths which man ne'er trod before;
No more, the mountain scaled, the desert cross'd,
Losing myself, nor knowing I was lost,
Travel through woods, through wilds, from morn to night,
From night to morn, yet travel with delight,
And having found thee, lay me down content,
Own all my toil well paid, my time well spent.
Farewell, ye Muses too!--for such mean things
Must not presume to dwell with mighty kings--
Farewell, ye Muses! though it cuts my heart
E'en to the quick, we must for ever part.
When the fresh morn bade lusty Nature wake;
When the birds, sweetly twittering through the brake,
Tune their soft pipes; when, from the neighbouring bloom
Sipping the dew, each zephyr stole perfume;
When all things with new vigour were inspired,
And seem'd to say they never could be tired;
How often have we stray'd, whilst sportive rhyme
Deceived the way and clipp'd the wings of Time,
O'er hill, o'er dale; how often laugh'd to see,
Yourselves made visible to none but me,
The clown, his works suspended, gape and stare,
And seem to think that I conversed with air!
When the sun, beating on the parched soil,
Seem'd to proclaim an interval of toil;
When a faint langour crept through every breast,
And things most used to labour wish'd for rest,
How often, underneath a reverend oak,
Where safe, and fearless of the impious stroke,
Some sacred Dryad lived; or in some grove,
Where, with capricious fingers, Fancy wove
Her fairy bower, whilst Nature all the while
Look'd on, and view'd her mockeries with a smile,
Have we held converse sweet! How often laid,
Fast by the Thames, in Ham's inspiring shade,
Amongst those poets which make up your train,
And, after death, pour forth the sacred strain,
Have I, at your command, in verse grown gray,
But not impair'd, heard Dryden tune that lay
Which might have drawn an angel from his sphere,
And kept him from his office listening here!
When dreary Night, with Morpheus in her train,
Led on by Silence to resume her reign,
With darkness covering, as with a robe,
The scene of levity, blank'd half the globe;
How oft, enchanted with your heavenly strains,
Which stole me from myself; which in soft chains
Of music bound my soul; how oft have I,
Sounds more than human floating through the sky,
Attentive sat, whilst Night, against her will,
Transported with the harmony, stood still!
How oft in raptures, which man scarce could bear,
Have I, when gone, still thought the Muses there;
Still heard their music, and, as mute as death,
Sat all attention, drew in every breath,
Lest, breathing all too rudely, I should wound,
And mar that magic excellence of sound;
Then, Sense returning with return of day,
Have chid the Night, which fled so fast away!
Such my pursuits, and such my joys of yore,
Such were my mates, but now my mates no more.
Placed out of Envy's walk, (for Envy, sure,
Would never haunt the cottage of the poor,
Would never stoop to wound my homespun lays)
With some few friends, and some small share of praise,
Beneath oppression, undisturb'd by strife,
In peace I trod the humble vale of life.
Farewell, these scenes of ease, this tranquil state;
Welcome the troubles which on empire wait!
Light toys from this day forth I disavow;
They pleased me once, but cannot suit me now:
To common men all common things are free,
What honours them, might fix disgrace on me.
Call'd to a throne, and o'er a mighty land
Ordain'd to rule, my head, my heart, my hand,
Are all engross'd; each private view withstood,
And task'd to labour for the public good:
Be this my study; to this one great end
May every thought, may every action tend!
Let me the page of History turn o'er,
The instructive page, and needfully explore
What faithful pens of former times have wrote
Of former kings; what they did worthy note,
What worthy blame; and from the sacred tomb
Where righteous monarchs sleep, where laurels bloom,
Unhurt by Time, let me a garland twine,
Which, robbing not their fame, may add to mine.
Nor let me with a vain and idle eye
Glance o'er those scenes, and in a hurry fly,
Quick as the post, which travels day and night;
Nor let me dwell there, lured by false delight;
And, into barren theory betray'd,
Forget that monarchs are for action made.
When amorous Spring, repairing all his charms,
Calls Nature forth from hoary Winter's arms,
Where, like a virgin to some lecher sold,
Three wretched months she lay benumb'd, and cold;
When the weak flower, which, shrinking from the breath
Of the rude North, and timorous of death,
To its kind mother earth for shelter fled,
And on her bosom hid its tender head,
Peeps forth afresh, and, cheer'd by milder sties,
Bids in full splendour all her beauties rise;
The hive is up in arms--expert to teach,
Nor, proudly, to be taught unwilling, each
Seems from her fellow a new zeal to catch;
Strength in her limbs, and on her wings dispatch,
The bee goes forth; from herb to herb she flies,
From flower to flower, and loads her labouring thighs
With treasured sweets, robbing those flowers, which, left,
Find not themselves made poorer by the theft,
Their scents as lively, and their looks as fair,
As if the pillager had not been there.
Ne'er doth she flit on Pleasure's silken wing;
Ne'er doth she, loitering, let the bloom of Spring
Unrifled pass, and on the downy breast
Of some fair flower indulge untimely rest;
Ne'er doth she, drinking deep of those rich dews
Which chemist Night prepared, that faith abuse
Due to the hive, and, selfish in her toils,
To her own private use convert the spoils.
Love of the stock first call'd her forth to roam,
And to the stock she brings her booty home.
Be this my pattern--as becomes a king,
Let me fly all abroad on Reason's wing;
Let mine eye, like the lightning, through the earth
Run to and fro, nor let one deed of worth,
In any place and time, nor let one man,
Whose actions may enrich dominion's plan,
Escape my note; be all, from the first day
Of Nature to this hour, be all my prey.
From those whom Time, at the desire of Fame,
Hath spared, let Virtue catch an equal flame;
From those who, not in mercy, but in rage,
Time hath reprieved, to damn from age to age,
Let me take warning, lesson'd to distil,
And, imitating Heaven, draw good from ill.
Nor let these great researches, in my breast
A monument of useless labour rest;
No--let them spread--the effects let Gotham share,
And reap the harvest of their monarch's care:
Be other times, and other countries known,
Only to give fresh blessings to my own.
Let me, (and may that God to whom I fly,
On whom for needful succour I rely
In this great hour, that glorious God of truth,
Through whom I reign, in mercy to my youth,
Assist my weakness, and direct me right;
From every speck which hangs upon the sight
Purge my mind's eye, nor let one cloud remain
To spread the shades of Error o'er my brain!)
Let me, impartial, with unwearied thought,
Try men and things; let me, as monarchs ought,
Examine well on what my power depends;
What are the general principles and ends
Of government; how empire first began;
And wherefore man was raised to reign o'er man.
Let me consider, as from one great source
We see a thousand rivers take their course,
Dispersed, and into different channels led,
Yet by their parent still supplied and fed,
That Government, (though branch'd out far and wide,
In various modes to various lands applied)
Howe'er it differs in its outward frame,
In the main groundwork's every where the same;
The same her view, though different her plan,
Her grand and general view--the good of man.
Let me find out, by Reason's sacred beams,
What system in itself most perfect seems,
Most worthy man, most likely to conduce
To all the purposes of general use;
Let me find, too, where, by fair Reason tried,
It fails, when to particulars applied;
Why in that mode all nations do not join,
And, chiefly, why it cannot suit with mine.
Let me the gradual rise of empires trace,
Till they seem founded on Perfection's base;
Then (for when human things have made their way
To excellence, they hasten to decay)
Let me, whilst Observation lends her clue
Step after step to their decline pursue,
Enabled by a chain of facts to tell
Not only how they rose, but why they fell.
Let me not only the distempers know
Which in all states from common causes grow,
But likewise those, which, by the will of Fate,
On each peculiar mode of empire wait;
Which in its very constitution lurk,
Too sure at last to do its destined work:
Let me, forewarn'd, each sign, each symptom learn,
That I my people's danger may discern,
Ere 'tis too late wish'd health to reassure,
And, if it can be found, find out a cure.
Let me, (though great, grave brethren of the gown
Preach all Faith up, and preach all Reason down,
Making those jar whom Reason meant to join,
And vesting in themselves a right divine),
Let me, through Reason's glass, with searching eye,
Into the depth of that religion pry
Which law hath sanction'd; let me find out there
What's form, what's essence; what, like vagrant air,
We well may change; and what, without a crime,
Cannot be changed to the last hour of time.
Nor let me suffer that outrageous zeal
Which, without knowledge, furious bigots feel,
Fair in pretence, though at the heart unsound,
These separate points at random to confound.
The times have been when priests have dared to tread,
Proud and insulting, on their monarch's head;
When, whilst they made religion a pretence,
Out of the world they banish'd common-sense;
When some soft king, too open to deceit,
Easy and unsuspecting join'd the cheat,
Duped by mock piety, and gave his name
To serve the vilest purposes of shame.
Pear not, my people! where no cause of fear
Can justly rise--your king secures you here;
Your king, who scorns the haughty prelate's nod,
Nor deems the voice of priests the voice of God.
Let me, (though lawyers may perhaps forbid
Their monarch to behold what they wish hid,
And for the purposes of knavish gain,
Would have their trade a mystery remain)
Let me, disdaining all such slavish awe,
Dive to the very bottom of the law;
Let me (the weak, dead letter left behind)
Search out the principles, the spirit find,
Till, from the parts, made master of the whole,
I see the Constitution's very soul.
Let me, (though statesmen will no doubt resist,
And to my eyes present a fearful list
Of men, whose wills are opposite to mine,
Of men, great men, determined to resign)
Let me, (with firmness, which becomes a king.
Conscious from what a source my actions spring,
Determined not by worlds to be withstood,
When my grand object is my country's good)
Unravel all low ministerial scenes,
Destroy their jobs, lay bare their ways and means,
And track them step by step; let me well know
How places, pensions, and preferments go;
Why Guilt's provided for when Worth is not,
And why one man of merit is forgot;
Let me in peace, in war, supreme preside,
And dare to know my way without a guide.
Let me, (though Dignity, by nature proud,
Retires from view, and swells behind a cloud,--
As if the sun shone with less powerful ray,
Less grace, less glory, shining every day,--
Though when she comes forth into public sight,
Unbending as a ghost, she stalks upright,
With such an air as we have often seen,
And often laugh'd at, in a tragic queen,
Nor, at her presence, though base myriads crook
The supple knee, vouchsafes a single look)
Let me, (all vain parade, all empty pride,
All terrors of dominion laid aside,
All ornament, and needless helps of art,
All those big looks, which speak a little heart)
Know (which few kings, alas! have ever known)
How Affability becomes a throne,
Destroys all fear, bids Love with Reverence live,
And gives those graces Pride can never give.
Let the stern tyrant keep a distant state,
And, hating all men, fear return of hate,
Conscious of guilt, retreat behind his throne,
Secure from all upbraidings but his own:
Let all my subjects have access to me,
Be my ears open, as my heart is free;
In full fair tide let information flow;
That evil is half cured, whose cause we know.
And thou, where'er thou art, thou wretched thing,
Who art afraid to look up to a king,
Lay by thy fears; make but thy grievance plain,
And, if I not redress thee, may my reign
Close up that very moment. To prevent
The course of Justice from her vain intent,
In vain my nearest, dearest friend shall plead,
In vain my mother kneel; my soul may bleed,
But must not change. When Justice draws the dart,
Though it is doom'd to pierce a favourite's heart,
'Tis mine to give it force, to give it aim--
I know it duty, and I feel it fame.
A Stolen Kiss
I stole a kiss when you were asleep!
I knew it was not right!
Swear upon love, but it felt alright!