Before The Throne Of Beauty Xxvi
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. I pursued the beckoning course of the rivulet and the musical sounds of the birds until I reached a lonely spot where the flowing branches of the trees prevented the sun from the touching the earth.
I stood there, and it was entertaining to my soul - my thirsty soul who had seen naught but the mirage of life instead of its sweetness.
I was engrossed deeply in thought and my spirits were sailing the firmament when a hour, wearing a sprig of grapevine that covered part of her naked body, and a wreath of poppies about her golden hair, suddenly appeared to me. As she she realized my astonishment, she greeted me saying, 'Fear me not; I am the Nymph of the Jungle.'
Eternity
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sun rise.
Joy And Sorrow Chapter Viii
Then a woman said, 'Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.'
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
Infant Joy
'I have no name;
I am but two days old.'
What shall I call thee?
'I happy am,
Joy is my name.'
Sweet joy befall thee!
Pretty joy!
Sweet joy, but two days old.
Sweet Joy I call thee:
From Blossoms
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the joy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.
From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
Oh! Flower, I Feel Sorry For You! ! !
I saw a nice little flower…
Enjoying herself in the nice warm fields…
The place felt fine, what a beautiful sight! !
Why didn't it come yesterday? !
But the joy didn't last long enough…what a pity!
‘Cause the flower was plucked away! ! !
It was no longer there
So was the beauty
How gloomy the place felt now for sight! !
Why do flowers bloom, if it has to be murdered this way? ?
The Schoolboy
I love to rise in a summer morn
When the birds sing on every tree;
The distant huntsman winds his horn,
And the skylark sings with me.
O! what sweet company!
But to go to school on a summer morn,
O! it drives all joy away;
Under a cruel eye outworn,
The little ones spend the day
Sonnet 54
Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
Sometimes I joy when glad occasion fits,
And mask in myrth lyke to a comedy:
Soone after when my joy to sorrow flits,
I waile and make my woes a tragedy.
Yet she, beholding me with constant eye,
Delights not in my merth nor rues my smart:
Life Is A Tall, Tender Tree
For if life is a tall tender tree,
For then, life is joy, life is free.
The tree is dancing in the air, sunny or showers,
With his joy, with his love, with his flowers.
For if life is a tall tender tree,
There is no pain or gain, she or he.
No complaining, only serving and caring.
Creating life for joy of sharing.
I Am A Very Simple Girl, Very Simple
I am a very simple girl, very simple.
I only know how to love, how to care.
I only have kindness and joy to share.
I am a simple star without a twinkle.
I am a very simple girl, very simple.
I am not a famous dancer or singer.
I can feel your dancing heart with my finger.
My heart is longing for love, very simple.
Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been
AMONG all lovely things my Love had been;
Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew
About her home; but she had never seen
A glow-worm, never one, and this I knew.
While riding near her home one stormy night
A single glow-worm did I chance to espy;
I gave a fervent welcome to the sight,
And from my horse I leapt; great joy had I.
The Joy Of Giving
Be it no more than just a glass of water,
A walking-stick alive rendered by daughter,
Care and concern, warm smile, none far too hotter;
Or quality time spent with someone old,
A warm blanket in times forlorn and cold,
In times of need a willing shoulder-hold;
A pair of slippers to feet walking bare,
Not in loud charity to show you care,
Peace Xviii
The tempest calmed after bending the branches of the trees and leaning heavily upon the grain in the field. The stars appeared as broken remnants of lightning, but now silence prevailed over all, as if Nature's war had never been fought.
At that hour a young woman entered her chamber and knelt by her bed sobbing bitterly. Her heart flamed with agony but she could finally open her lips and say, 'Oh Lord, bring him home safely to me. I have exhausted my tears and can offer no more, oh Lord, full of love and mercy. My patience is drained and calamity is seeking possession of my heart. Save him, oh Lord, from the iron paws of War; deliver him from such unmerciful Death, for he is weak, governed by the strong. Oh Lord, save my beloved, who is Thine own son, from the foe, who is Thy foe. Keep him from the forced pathway to Death's door; let him see me, or come and take me to him.'
Lost Star
When the creation was new and all the stars shone in their first
splendor, the gods held their assembly in the sky and sang
`Oh, the picture of perfection! the joy unalloyed! '
But one cried of a sudden
- -`It seems that somewhere there is a break in the chain of light
and one of the stars has been lost.'
The golden string of their harp snapped,
their song stopped, and they cried in dismay
*** And You Will Shed Tears Of Joy ***
My love so intense
like fragrant musk's incense
Would
permeate you
hypnotize you
anesthetize you
And you will shed tears of Joy.
My love so hot
like blazing sunspots
Returning, We Hear The Larks
Sombre the night is.
And though we have our lives, we know
What sinister threat lies there.
Dragging these anguished limbs, we only know
This poison-blasted track opens on our camp -
On a little safe sleep.
But hark! joy - joy - strange joy.
Lo! heights of night ringing with unseen larks.
Joy And Pleasure
Now, joy is born of parents poor,
And pleasure of our richer kind;
Though pleasure's free, she cannot sing
As sweet a song as joy confined.
Pleasure's a Moth, that sleeps by day
And dances by false glare at night;
But Joy's a Butterfly, that loves
To spread its wings in Nature's light.
Several Questions Answered
What is it men in women do require?
The lineaments of Gratified Desire.
What is it women do in men require?
The lineaments of Gratified Desire.
The look of love alarms
Because 'tis fill'd with fire;
But the look of soft deceit
Shall Win the lover's hire.
Happiness And Vision
Together at the altar we
In vision oft were seen by thee,
Thyself as bride, as bridegroom I.
Oft from thy mouth full many a kiss
In an unguarded hour of bliss
I then would steal, while none were by.
The purest rapture we then knew,
The Angel That Presided O'Er My Birth
The Angel that presided o'er my birth
Said, 'Little creature, form'd of Joy and Mirth,
'Go love without the help of any Thing on Earth.'