Happiness poems
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The Borough. Letter III: The Vicar--The Curate
© George Crabbe
THE VICAR.
WHERE ends our chancel in a vaulted space,
The Stealing Of The Mare - IV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Said the Narrator:
Now when the Princess Alia had made her petition to the Maker of the Heavens, and her deliverance had been wrought by Abu Zeyd with the slaying of her enemies, and he had said to her, ``Return and say no word of this to thy friends,'' she besought him, saying: ``Nay, but by Him who commandeth all power, I will not return home until thou hast told me of thyself, who thou art and of what tribe and nation of the Arabs.'' But he said to her, ``Know, O Lady, that I am of the race of the Jinns and that our people are indeed Muslims obeying the Lord of the Universe, and I was sent to thee from the land of Syria to deliver thee from that traitor, who was of the children of crime.'' But she answered him, ``Yet are not the Jinns of thy quality. Rather tell me the truth. I adjure thee by Him who created thee and in whose shadow thou didst grow up, and who hath wrought blessings through thy hand.'' And being thus adjured he said, ``O Alia, there were peril for me if I told thee truly all.'' But she answered, ``Be not afraid. Though thou wert the Prince Abu Zeyd himself, the Helali, yet shouldst thou have security, ay, even he that great horseman.'' Then said he to her, ``Stretch forth thy hand that we may make a covenant together, so shall God be our witness.'' And she said, ``As thou wilt.'' Then they made them a covenant together in the name of God the Almighty, and their souls were loosed of their burden. And Abu Zeyd spoke to her and told her all, and said, ``It was indeed none other than I that slew thy uncle, nor came I with a better purpose than to steal away that mare.'' And she said, ``Now is my heart light and my trouble ended, and as for the mare, look for her at my hand and not through another road; for my uncle and my people, are they not at thy disposal? And if there hath been evil how shall we take vengeance now, for I and my wealth and my kindred, all that is mine is thine. And thou shalt not find us niggardly of our kindness to thee, nor shall we refuse thee aught, inasmuch as all that I might do for thee, whether I fast or whether I pray, whether I give or whether I bestow, never might I make up to thee for what I have received at thy hand. Therefore shall there evermore be kindness between us. Ay, and if thou be willing, come thou now to our camp.'' But he said to her, ``O Alia, O fairest lady, know that this I cannot do, this I desire not.'' And when Alia heard this word, it deepened her regard for him, and she praised God who had ordered it that she should meet with one so honourable. And she perceived that to one such as was this brave knight she could entrust her soul and all that was hers. And she entreated him, ``Come with me to the tribe.'' But he, ``Never can I come with thee.'' And still she besought him, saying, ``Know this, O Hejazi Salameh, that I will not leave thee here nor depart from thee. And as to the mare, her will I deliver to thee and whatsoever else thou demandest. Nay, though it were my soul I would not deny it.'' But he answered her, ``My mind is changed about the mare, nor would I now take her, for I fear lest they seeking and not finding her should suspect thee, O Alia, and trouble should come to thee of thy father. And have we not the grey mare of Diab with us, the Shohba, whom we may give to the lady, nor run this great risk for her sake?'' But Alia insisting said, ``Nay, that shall not be, nor care I what may come, not though I should taste of the cup of evil things. But if thou wilt not take the mare, then will I kill her and myself with her, and on thy head be it for her and for me.'' And Abu Zeyd consented, saying: ``I will do what thee seemeth good. So may God prosper thy designing.''
And the Narrator returned to his singing of that which happened between the Princess Alia and the Prince Abu Zeyd.
Sun And Flesh (Credo In Unam)
© Arthur Rimbaud
The vast heaven is open! the mysteries lie dead
Before erect Man, who folds his strong arms
Among the vast splendour of abundant Nature!
He sings... and the woods sing, the river murmurs
A song full of happiness which rises towards the light!...
- it is Redemption! it is love! it is love!...
At Castle Wood
© Emily Jane Brontë
The day is done, the winter sun
Is setting in its sullen sky;
And drear the course that has been run,
And dim the hearts that slowly die.
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto IV
© Richard Savage
Still o'er my mind wild Fancy holds her sway,
Still on strange visionary land I stray.
Now scenes crowd thick! now indistinct appear!
Swift glide the months, and turn the varying year!
The Song of Hiawatha X: Hiawatha's Wooing
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"As unto the bow the cord is,
So unto the man is woman,
Though she bends him, she obeys him,
Though she draws him, yet she follows,
Useless each without the other!"
Anecdote For Fathers
© William Wordsworth
I HAVE a boy of five years old;
His face is fair and fresh to see;
His limbs are cast in beauty's mold
And dearly he loves me.
Invocation
© Arthur Symons
I pray to the old kindness of the Earth,
Which is a spirit moving in the world,
The Forester
© Madison Julius Cawein
I met him here at Ammendorf one Spring.
It was the end of April and the Harz,
France--December 1870
© George Meredith
Henceforth of her the Gods are known,
Open to them her breast is laid.
Inveterate of brain, heart-valiant,
Never did fairer creature pant
Before the altar and the blade!
The Gift Of Harun Al-Rashid
© William Butler Yeats
KUSTA BEN LUKA is my name, I write
To Abd Al-Rabban; fellow-roysterer once,
Now the good Caliph's learned Treasurer,
And for no ear but his.
"I cant prevent myself from singing"
© Thibaut de Champagne
Mercy, my lady, who knows all things!
All goodness and everything worth having
Are yours: more than any woman living.
Help me, now, it is in your giving!
Hope
© Gamaliel Bradford
When I was a little boy,
I followed hope and slighted joy.
Now my wit has larger scope,
I clutch at joy and heed not hope.
On Content
© Thomas Parnell
Grant heav'n that I may chuse my bliss
If you design me worldly Happiness
Foresight And Patience
© George Meredith
Sprung of the father blood, the mother brain,
Are they who point our pathway and sustain.
They rarely meet; one soars, one walks retired.
When they do meet, it is our earth inspired.
The Miller's Maid
© Robert Bloomfield
Near the high road upon a winding stream
An honest Miller rose to Wealth and Fame:
The noblest Virtues cheer'd his lengthen'd days,
And all the Country echo'd with his praise:
His Wife, the Doctress of the neighb'ring Poor,
Drew constant pray'rs and blessings round his door.
Human Life
© Samuel Rogers
An hour like this is worth a thousand passed
In pomp or ease - 'Tis present to the last!
Years glide away untold - 'Tis still the same!
As fresh, as fair as on the day it came!
Madhushala (The Tavern)
© Harivansh Rai Bachchan
Seeking wine, the drinker leaves home for the tavern.
Perplexed, he asks, "Which path will take me there?"
People show him different ways, but this is what I have to say,
"Pick a path and keep walking. You will find the tavern."
