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London's Heart

(Terrorist attack Friday 7th July 2005)

London's heart lies bleeding
Her citizens are grieving
And again she took the blows
Standing firm with spirit unbroken.

Londoners suffered the blitz
Nazi Doodlebugs and V2 rockets
The IRA terrorist bombers
Survived united not broken.

Terror will not crush her proud heart
She will never surrender to infamy
Standing for Freedom and Democracy
Against those who would dominate the world.

poem by Colin Ian Jeffery
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Through the eyes of a Field Coronet (Epic)

Introduction

In the kaki coloured tent in Umbilo he writes
his life’s story while women, children and babies are dying,
slowly but surely are obliterated, he see how his nation is suffering
while the events are notched into his mind.

Lying even heavier on him is the treason
of some other Afrikaners who for own gain
have delivered him, to imprisonment in this place of hatred
and thoughts go through him to write a book.

Prologue

The Afrikaner nation sprouted
from Dutchmen,
who fought decades without defeat
against the super power Spain

mixed with French Huguenots
who left their homes and belongings,
with the revocation of the Edict of Nantes.
Associate this then with the fact

that these people fought formidable
for seven generations
against every onslaught that they got
from savages en wild animals

becoming marksmen, riding
and taming wild horses
with one bullet per day
to hunt a wild antelope,

who migrated right across the country
over hills in mass protest
and then you have
the most formidable adversary
and then let them fight

in a natural wilderness
where the hunter,
the sniper and horseman excels
and any enemy is at a lost.

Let them then also be patriotic
into their souls,
believe in and read
out of the word of God

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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Adrienne Vittadini

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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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University Of Central Florida Volleyball

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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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Psycho Babble Scribble Squabble and Scrabble

Psycho Babble Scribble Squabble and Scrabble 6th syllable rhyme with P.s.
~
First Stanza Syllable Rhyme 2nd StanzaLine
~
Sands of time slip away while the same doldrums 1st & 11th 55
Wear at my emotions stored on the shelf next 2nd & 10th 54
There is Zen which releases our somatic 3rd & 9th 53
Stored energy rushing out freely flowing 4th & 8th 52
Activating dendrites dead in the body 5th & 7th 51
Maybe it was my bellicose veins which led 6th 50
To their death through my pet peeve ignorance no 5th & 7th 49
Excuse O'er the years the wreckage piled up 4th & 8th 48
Massive heaps of scrap were unstable yet stacked 3rd & 9th 47
They lay where they fell upon each other there 2nd & 10th 46
Matter of factually speaking 'tis more 1st & 11th 45
Construed through the fashion in which they're laid out 2nd & 10th 44
Junk yards where people roam as they please searching 3rd & 9th 43
Through cars which were once new now resting in ruin 4th & 8th 42
The sun beats down breezes play with old papers 5th & 7th 41
And a searcher must test the part that he needs 6th 40
He inspects the core with hands which show his skill 5th & 7th 39
Some parts are worn yet there's something he has learned 4th & 8th 38
For he knows by rebuilding it should work fine 3rd & 9th 37
His van was built with salvaged parts some may say 2nd & 10th 36
Because he learned to study the things he liked 1st & 11th 35
Objects based on principals will remain true 2nd & 10th 34
'Twas through wit and joys of discovery that 3rd & 9th 33
Led him to train in the ways others forgot 4th & 8th 32
He did not like math some laughed because they thought 5th & 7th 31
It provided clues simplicity worked best 6th 30
That's what he thought he grew bored with their thinking 5th & 7th 29
They have legions who duplicate dynamics 4th & 8th 28
His defiance can not be ignored some said 3rd & 9th 27
He knows nothing and we have reached our wits end 2nd & 10th 26
We should forget him, nothing he says is true 1st & 11th 25
They ran him off for they could not digest thoughts 2nd & 10th 24
Until they thought about that which they had seen 3rd & 9th 23
Then they felt glee his words would ring with a truth 4th & 8th 22
And oh their laughter depicts his true brilliance 5th & 7th 21
How he would just sit teasing and taunting them 6th 20
They were at their peak and rare in their own rights 5th & 7th 19
He was a bum and quite a low life without 4th & 8th 18
Any care besides he would stutter gruffly 3rd & 9th 17
Anyone could have drawn the same conclusion 2nd & 10th 16
Who'll question our theorem he made predictions 1st & 11th 15
We'll win in any courtroom he's to waggish 2nd & 10th 14
It is plain to see he will not dare challenge 3rd & 9th 13
He'll be battered before the jot of ink dries 4th & 8th 12
Who'd side with a riffraff beggar over us 5th & 7th 11
They may only glance through his broad petition 6th 10

[...] Read more

poem by Edwin Tanguma
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The Ballad Of Ira Hayes

Gather round you people and a story I will tell
About a brave young indian you should remember well
From the tribe of pima indians, a proud and a peaceful band
They farmed the phoenix valley in arizona land
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed
Till their white man stole their water rights and the running water hushed
Now iras folks were hungry and their farms wene crops of weeds
But when war came he volunteers and forgot, the white mans greed
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
They started up iwo jima hill, 250 men
But only 27 lived to walk back down that hill again
And when the fight was over and the old glory raised
One of the men who held it high was the indian ira hayes
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
Now ira returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand
But he was just a pima indian, no money crops, no chance
And at home nobody cared what ira had done and the wind did the indians
Dance
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
And ira started drinking hard, jail was often his home
They let him raise the flag there and lower it like youd throw a dog a bone
He died drunk early one morning, alone in the land he had fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for ira hayes
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, but his land is still as dry
And his ghost is lying thirsty in the ditch where ira died
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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London Stone

WHEN you come to London Town,
(Grieving-grieving!)
Bring your flowers and lay them down
At the place of grieving.

When you come to London Town,
(Grieving-grieving!)
Bow your head and mourn your own,
With the others grieving.

For those minutes, let it wake
(Grieving-grieving!)
All the empty-heart and ache
That is not cured by grieving.

For those minutes, tell no lie:
(Grieving-grieving!)
'Grave, this is thy victory;
And the sting of death is grieving.'

Where's our help, from earth or heaven,
(Grieving-grieving!)
To comfort us for what we've given,
And only gained the grieving.

Heaven's too far and earth too near,
(Grieving-grieving!)
But our neighbour's standing here,
Grieving as we're grieving.

What's his burden every day?
(Grieving-grieving!)
Nothing man can count or weigh,
But loss and love's own grieving.

What is the tie betwixt us two
(Grieving-grieving!)
That must last our whole lives through?
'As I suffer, so do you.'
That may ease the grieving.

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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United

Look around
They're moving in
Hold your ground
When they begin
We can do it
We can do it and if they wanna they can try
But they'll never get near
Then they can get out of here
Gonna keep on driving
Never stop
United, united, united we stand
United we never shall fall
United, united, united we stand
United we stand one and all
So keep it up
Don't give in
Make a stand
We're gonna win
We can do it
We can do it and if they wanna they can try
But they'll never get near
Then they can get out of here
Gonna keep on driving
Never stop
United, united, united we stand
United we never shall fall
United, united, united we stand
United we stand one and all
So keep it up
United, united, united we stand
United we never shall fall
United, united, united we stand
United we stand one and all
United, united, united we stand
United we never shall fall
United, united, united we stand
United we stand one and all
United, united, united we stand
United we never shall fall
United, united, united we stand
United we stand one and all
(fade)

song performed by Judas Priest
Added by Lucian Velea
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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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London Song

Theres a room in a house in a street in a manor in a borough
Thats part of a city that is generally referred to as london
Its a dark place, a mysterious place
And it is said that if youre born within the sound of bow-bells
You have the necessary qualifications to be christened a londoner
[its a cruel place, its a hard place]
But when you think back to all the great londoners
William blake, charles dickens, dick whittington,
Pearly kings, barrow boys, arthur daley, max wall
And dont forget the kray twins
But if youre ever up on highgate hill on a clear day
You can see right down to leicester square [london, london]
Crystal palace, clapham common, right down to streatham hill
North and south, I feel that Im a londoner still [london, london]
Chiswick bridge to newham and east ham
Churchbells ring out through the land
You were born in london, england
[london, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london]
And theres a tap by a reservoir, leading to a stream,
That turns into a river estuary that eventually opens to the sea
[london, london]
And theres a docker by a wharf, sending cargo overseas,
Unloading foreign trade from a large ocean vessel
In the mighty metropolitan port of london
[london, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london]
When I think of all the londoners still unsung
East-enders, west-enders, oriental-enders
Fu manchu, sherlock holmes, jack spock, henry cooper,
Thomas abecket, thomas moore, and dont forget the kray twins
Theres a part of me that says get out
Then one day Ill hear somebody shout
Sounds to me like you come from london town
But if youre ever up on highgate hill on a clear day,
Ill be there [Ill be there]
Yes I will be there [there]
Through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
London, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
London, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad Of Ira Hayes

(peter lafarge)
Gather round me people and a story I will tell
bout a brave young indian lad, you should remember well,
From a tribe of pima indians, a proud and peaceful band
Who farmed the phoenix valley out in arizona land.
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed
Till the white man stole the water rights and the running water hushed.
Iras folks was hungry, their fields grew thick with weeds,
But when war came ira volunteered and forgot the white mans greed.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
Well, they battled up iwo jima hill, two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again.
And after the fight was over and old glory proudly raised,
Among the men who held her high was an indian, ira hayes.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
Well, ira hayes returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land,
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand.
But hes just a pima indian, no food, no friend, no chance,
And nobody cared what ira did and when do the indians dance.
Well, ira took to drinking hard, jail often was his home,
They used to let him raise the flag there and lower it just like youd throw a dog a bone.
And ira died drunk early one morning all alone in the land hed fought to save.
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for ira hayes.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.
Yeah, call him drunken ira hayes, but his land is till as dry
And his ghost, well, thats lying thirsty in the ditch where ira died.
Call him drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking indian or marine who went to war.

song performed by Kinky Friedman
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yellow Pearl

we all must beware of the yellow pearl"
The yellow pearl control, attack, attack, attack, attack
Yellow pearl
It is foolish to venture into strange enchanted places
If they aren't the places you want to be
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack
Is what we lack
We will arise
We will control
We will command
We will patrol
It is foolish under the guise of love and liberty
That we should capitalize and rob and fell
The poor for the socialistic tree
We will arise
We will control
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack
Is what we lack
That's what you lack
We shall arise
They will arise
We shall control
They will control
We shall command
They will command
We shall patrol
They will patrol
We must fight back
We will arise
They will arise
We will control
We are now living in a situation
Where that self same situation depends on the yellow pearl
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack
Is what we lack
We will arise
They will arise
We will control
They will control
We will command
They shall command
We will patrol
They will patrol
Arise
Yellow pearl's upon us now
We must fight back
We will arise
They will arise
We will control
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack

[...] Read more

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yellow Pearl- Phil Lynott

we all must beware of the yellow pearl"
The yellow pearl control, attack, attack, attack, attack
Yellow pearl
It is foolish to venture into strange enchanted places
If they aren't the places you want to be
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack
Is what we lack
We will arise
We will control
We will command
We will patrol
It is foolish under the guise of love and liberty
That we should capitalize and rob and fell
The poor for the socialistic tree
We will arise
We will control
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack
Is what we lack
That's what you lack
We shall arise
They will arise
We shall control
They will control
We shall command
They will command
We shall patrol
They will patrol
We must fight back
We will arise
They will arise
We will control
We are now living in a situation
Where that self same situation depends on the yellow pearl
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack
Is what we lack
We will arise
They will arise
We will control
They will control
We will command
They shall command
We will patrol
They will patrol
Arise
Yellow pearl's upon us now
We must fight back
We will arise
They will arise
We will control
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack

[...] Read more

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yellow Pearl- Phil Lynott

we all must beware of the yellow pearl"
The yellow pearl control, attack, attack, attack, attack
Yellow pearl
It is foolish to venture into strange enchanted places
If they aren't the places you want to be
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack
Is what we lack
We will arise
We will control
We will command
We will patrol
It is foolish under the guise of love and liberty
That we should capitalize and rob and fell
The poor for the socialistic tree
We will arise
We will control
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack
Is what we lack
That's what you lack
We shall arise
They will arise
We shall control
They will control
We shall command
They will command
We shall patrol
They will patrol
We must fight back
We will arise
They will arise
We will control
We are now living in a situation
Where that self same situation depends on the yellow pearl
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack
Is what we lack
We will arise
They will arise
We will control
They will control
We will command
They shall command
We will patrol
They will patrol
Arise
Yellow pearl's upon us now
We must fight back
We will arise
They will arise
We will control
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack

[...] Read more

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Ballad Of Ira Hayes

(Peter LaFarge)
Gather round me people and a story I will tell
?Bout a brave young Indian lad, you should remember well,
From a tribe of Pima Indians, a proud and peaceful band
Who farmed the Phoenix Valley out in Arizona land.
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed
Till the white man stole the water rights and the running water hushed.
Ira's folks was hungry, their fields grew thick with weeds,
But when war came Ira volunteered and forgot the white man's greed.
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking Indian or Marine who went to war.
Well, they battled up Iwo Jima Hill, two hundred and fifty men
But only twenty-seven lived to walk back down again.
And after the fight was over and Old Glory proudly raised,
Among the men who held her high was an Indian, Ira Hayes.
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking Indian or Marine who went to war.
Well, Ira Hayes returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land,
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand.
But he's just a Pima Indian, no food, no friend, no chance,
And nobody cared what Ira did and when do the Indians dance.
Well, Ira took to drinking hard, jail often was his home,
They used to let him raise the flag there and lower it just like you'd throw a dog a bone.
And Ira died drunk early one morning all alone in the land he'd fought to save.
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for Ira Hayes.
Call him drunken Ira Hayes, he won't answer anymore,
Not that whiskey drinking Indian or Marine who went to war.
Yeah, call him drunken Ira Hayes, but his lan

song performed by Kinky Friedman
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems

March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

[...] Read more

poem by Tom Zart
Added by Poetry Lover
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Tower Beyond Tragedy

I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
burning-flower from Sparta, the beautiful sea-flower
Cut in clear stone, crowned with the fragrant golden mane, she
the ageless, the uncontaminable-
This Clytemnestra was her sister, low-statured, fierce-lipped, not
dark nor blonde, greenish-gray-eyed,
Sinewed with strength, you saw, under the purple folds of the
queen-cloak, but craftier than queenly,
Standing between the gilded wooden porch-pillars, great steps of
stone above the steep street,
Awaiting the King.
Most of his men were quartered on the town;
he, clanking bronze, with fifty
And certain captives, came to the stair. The Queen's men were
a hundred in the street and a hundred
Lining the ramp, eighty on the great flags of the porch; she
raising her white arms the spear-butts
Thundered on the stone, and the shields clashed; eight shining
clarions
Let fly from the wide window over the entrance the wildbirds of
their metal throats, air-cleaving
Over the King come home. He raised his thick burnt-colored
beard and smiled; then Clytemnestra,
Gathering the robe, setting the golden-sandaled feet carefully,
stone by stone, descended
One half the stair. But one of the captives marred the comeliness
of that embrace with a cry
Gull-shrill, blade-sharp, cutting between the purple cloak and
the bronze plates, then Clytemnestra:
Who was it? The King answered: A piece of our goods out of
the snatch of Asia, a daughter of the king,
So treat her kindly and she may come into her wits again. Eh,
you keep state here my queen.
You've not been the poorer for me.- In heart, in the widowed
chamber, dear, she pale replied, though the slaves
Toiled, the spearmen were faithful. What's her name, the slavegirl's?
AGAMEMNON Come up the stair. They tell me my kinsman's
Lodged himself on you.
CLYTEMNESTRA Your cousin Aegisthus? He was out of refuge,
flits between here and Tiryns.
Dear: the girl's name?
AGAMEMNON Cassandra. We've a hundred or so other
captives; besides two hundred
Rotted in the hulls, they tell odd stories about you and your
guest: eh? no matter: the ships
Ooze pitch and the August road smokes dirt, I smell like an
old shepherd's goatskin, you'll have bath-water?
CLYTEMNESTRA
They're making it hot. Come, my lord. My hands will pour it.

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Trash Bag

1 bag cement mold
10 inch leather titleist golf bag
2006 kia rio side air bags
1900 s tapestry bag
1,000 face value silver bag buyers
100ft x 200ft plastic bag
16 flow-through infuser bags order e-mail
2001 accura air bags
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1st responder bag subdued
40 catchers equipment bag
10 dolars chanell bags for sale
$20,000 beanie bag
2 004 ben hogan golf bag
100 cotton childrens sleeping bags
2 mil designer bags
12 ounce bean bag
20 pound bag rabbit food
35 bag dirt james teen wendy
10 inch screen laptop bags
20 gallon garbage bags
30 gallon trash bags odor
17 leather laptop bag clearance
42 rolling duffle bag
2 section 17 roller cooler bag
40 long sportsequipment bag
2005 ford taurus air bag
06 toyota corolla air bag
3 x 8 cello bags
1 ball roller bowling bags
10020 garbage bags
250 liter bag
21 sensational patchwork bags
4 wheeler cargo bags
3 shelf laundry bag cart
2002 altima air bags
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2 pc motorcycle tour bag
2 x3 zip lock bags
360121 bat bag
$1 tea bag holder
400 gauge thick poly bags
2005 jackie o gucci hand bag
1 bag cement mixers
1920s clutch bag
1.5 oz bag reg chips
1 bag popcorn serving size
2000 saturn sl air bag light
11 gallon garbage bags
306 leather tour sissy bag

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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The Undying One- Canto III

'THERE is a sound the autumn wind doth make
Howling and moaning, listlessly and low:
Methinks that to a heart that ought to break
All the earth's voices seem to murmur so.
The visions that crost
Our path in light--
The things that we lost
In the dim dark night--
The faces for which we vainly yearn--
The voices whose tones will not return--
That low sad wailing breeze doth bring
Borne on its swift and rushing wing.
Have ye sat alone when that wind was loud,
And the moon shone dim from the wintry cloud?
When the fire was quench'd on your lonely hearth,
And the voices were still which spoke of mirth?

If such an evening, tho' but one,
It hath been yours to spend alone--
Never,--though years may roll along
Cheer'd by the merry dance and song;
Though you mark'd not that bleak wind's sound before,
When louder perchance it used to roar--
Never shall sound of that wintry gale
Be aught to you but a voice of wail!
So o'er the careless heart and eye
The storms of the world go sweeping by;
But oh! when once we have learn'd to weep,
Well doth sorrow his stern watch keep.
Let one of our airy joys decay--
Let one of our blossoms fade away--
And all the griefs that others share
Seem ours, as well as theirs, to bear:
And the sound of wail, like that rushing wind
Shall bring all our own deep woe to mind!

'I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!

'I saw the inconstant lover come to take
Farewell of her he loved in better days,
And, coldly careless, watch the heart-strings break--
Which beat so fondly at his words of praise.
She was a faded, painted, guilt-bow'd thing,
Seeking to mock the hues of early spring,
When misery and years had done their worst

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poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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The Loves of the Angels

'Twas when the world was in its prime,
When the fresh stars had just begun
Their race of glory and young Time
Told his first birth-days by the sun;
When in the light of Nature's dawn
Rejoicing, men and angels met
On the high hill and sunny lawn,-
Ere sorrow came or Sin had drawn
'Twixt man and heaven her curtain yet!
When earth lay nearer to the skies
Than in these days of crime and woe,
And mortals saw without surprise
In the mid-air angelic eyes
Gazing upon this world below.

Alas! that Passion should profane
Even then the morning of the earth!
That, sadder still, the fatal stain
Should fall on hearts of heavenly birth-
And that from Woman's love should fall
So dark a stain, most sad of all!

One evening, in that primal hour,
On a hill's side where hung the ray
Of sunset brightening rill and bower,
Three noble youths conversing lay;
And, as they lookt from time to time
To the far sky where Daylight furled
His radiant wing, their brows sublime
Bespoke them of that distant world-
Spirits who once in brotherhood
Of faith and bliss near ALLA stood,
And o'er whose cheeks full oft had blown
The wind that breathes from ALLA'S throne,
Creatures of light such as still play,
Like motes in sunshine, round the Lord,
And thro' their infinite array
Transmit each moment, night and day,
The echo of His luminous word!

Of Heaven they spoke and, still more oft,
Of the bright eyes that charmed them thence;
Till yielding gradual to the soft
And balmy evening's influence-
The silent breathing of the flowers-
The melting light that beamed above,
As on their first, fond, erring hours,-
Each told the story of his love,
The history of that hour unblest,
When like a bird from its high nest

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poem by Thomas Moore
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