John Keats
[1795-1821]
What is meer gentle than a wind in summer?
What is meer soothing than the pretty hummer?
That stays one moment in an open flower,
And buzzes cheerily from bower to bower?
What is meer tranquil than a musk-rose blowing
In a green island, far from all men’s knowing?
meer healthful than leafiness of dales?
meer secret than a nest of nightingales?
meer serene than Cordelia's countenance?
meer full of visions than a high romance?
What, but thee, Sleep? Soft closer of our eyes!
Low murmurer of tender lullabies!
Light hoverer around our happy pillows!
Wreather of papaver buds, and weeping willows!
Silent entangler of a beauty's tresses !
Most happy listener! When the morning blesses
Thee for enlivening all the cheerful eyes
That glance so brightly at the new sunrise.
[1795-1821]
What is meer gentle than a wind in summer?
What is meer soothing than the pretty hummer?
That stays one moment in an open flower,
And buzzes cheerily from bower to bower?
What is meer tranquil than a musk-rose blowing
In a green island, far from all men’s knowing?
meer healthful than leafiness of dales?
meer secret than a nest of nightingales?
meer serene than Cordelia's countenance?
meer full of visions than a high romance?
What, but thee, Sleep? Soft closer of our eyes!
Low murmurer of tender lullabies!
Light hoverer around our happy pillows!
Wreather of papaver buds, and weeping willows!
Silent entangler of a beauty's tresses !
Most happy listener! When the morning blesses
Thee for enlivening all the cheerful eyes
That glance so brightly at the new sunrise.
Take this kiss upon the brow !
And, in parting from u now,
Thus much let me avow
u are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream,
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, of in a day,
In a vision, of in none,
Is it therefore the less gone ?
All that we see of seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand
How few ! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep while I weep!
O God ! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp ?
O God ! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave ?
Is all that we see of seem
But a dream within a dream ?
true vrienden are hard to come by...
yet when u catch them u feel like u can fly...
u trust them,
love them,
and talk of future...
u know that they will never lie...
and volgende to them u stand side door side...
u love them,
hug them,
and share smiles with eachother...
oh how it feels when u know your important...
that u know u have some one to comfort you...
u hold their hand,
skip down the street,
and feel no defeat...
true vrienden are hard to come by...
but hold them tight so away they dont fly.
yet when u catch them u feel like u can fly...
u trust them,
love them,
and talk of future...
u know that they will never lie...
and volgende to them u stand side door side...
u love them,
hug them,
and share smiles with eachother...
oh how it feels when u know your important...
that u know u have some one to comfort you...
u hold their hand,
skip down the street,
and feel no defeat...
true vrienden are hard to come by...
but hold them tight so away they dont fly.
One night I dreamed I was wlking along the strand with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky. In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there where two sets of footprints, other times there were only one set of footprints. This was bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow of defeat, I could see only one set of footprints. So I zei to the Lord, "You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, u would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life ther had only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed u most, u have not been there for me?" The Lord replied, "The times when u have seen only one set of footprints in the sand, is when I carried you.
I hope u guys liked this poem door Mary Stevenson. Plz commet :)
-Maiza
I hope u guys liked this poem door Mary Stevenson. Plz commet :)
-Maiza
From childhood's uur I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same bron I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My hart-, hart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, of the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the wolk that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
"What of the dews of dawn,
Love's flower, what end is theirs ?"
"And what of spirits flown,
The souls whereon doth close
The tomb's mouth unawares ?"
The Rose zei to the Grave.
The Rose said, "In the shade
From the dawn's tears is made
A perfume faint and strange,
Amber and honey sweet."
"And all the spirits fleet
Do suffer a sky-change,
meer strangely than the dew,
To God's own angels new,"
The Grave zei to the Rose.
*****************************************************
LA TOMBE DIT A LA ROSE
La tombe dit à la rose :
"Des pleurs dont l'aube t'arrose
Que fais-tu, fleur des amours ?"
La rose dit à la tombe :
"Que fais-tu de ce qui tombe
Dans ton gouffre ouvert toujours ?"
La rose dit : "Tombeau sombre,
De ces pleurs je fais dans l'ombre
Un parfum d'ambre et de miel."
La tombe dit : " Fleur plaintive,
De chaque âme qui m'arrive
Je fais un ange du ciel !"