Life poems
/ page 696 of 844 /Pleasure XXIV
© Khalil Gibran
Then a hermit, who visited the city once a year, came forth and said, "Speak to us of Pleasure."
Horace. Book II. Ode X.
© William Cowper
Receive, dear friend, the truths I teach,
So shalt thou live beyond the reach
Of adverse fortune's power;
Not always tempt the distant deep,
Nor always timorously creep
Along the treacherous shore.
Peace XVIII
© Khalil Gibran
The tempest calmed after bending the branches of the trees and leaning heavily upon the grain in the field
On Pain
© Khalil Gibran
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the
daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem
less wondrous than your joy;
Leave Me, My Blamer XIII
© Khalil Gibran
Advise me not, my blamer, for
Calamities have opened my heart and
Tears have cleanses my eyes, and
Errors have taught me the language
Of the hearts.
At Oxford
© William Lisle Bowles
Bereave me not of Fancy's shadowy dreams,
Which won my heart, or when the gay career
The First Waits
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
SO, Christmas is here again!--
While the house sleeps, quiet as death,
'Neath the midnight moon comes the Waits' shrill tune,
And we listen and hold our breath.
Before the Throne of Beauty XXVI
© Khalil Gibran
One heavy day I ran away from the grim face of society and the dizzying clamor of the city and directed my weary step to the spacious alley
The Waning Moon
© William Cullen Bryant
I've watched too late; the morn is near;
One look at God's broad silent sky!
Oh, hopes and wishes vainly dear,
How in your very strength ye die!
A Poet's Death is His Life IV
© Khalil Gibran
The dark wings of night enfolded the city upon which Nature had spread a pure white garment of snow; and men deserted the streets for their houses in search of warmth, while the north wind probed in contemplation of laying waste the gardens
A Lover's Call XXVII
© Khalil Gibran
Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little
Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you
As infants look upon the breast of their mothers?
On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic
© William Wordsworth
. Once did She hold the gorgeous east in fee;
And was the safeguard of the west: the worth
Women
© Louise Bogan
Women have no wilderness in them,
They are provident instead,
Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts
To eat dusty bread.
The Alchemist
© Louise Bogan
I burned my life, that I may find
A passion wholly of the mind,
Thought divorced from eye and bone
Ecstasy come to breath alone.
I broke my life, to seek relief
From the flawed light of love and grief.