William Wordsworth, 'November, 1806'

[duathir.livejournal.com]

November, 1806

Another year!--another deadly blow!
Another mighty Empire overthrown!
And We are left, or shall be left, alone;
The last that dare to struggle with the Foe.
'Tis well! from this day forward we shall know
That in ourselves our safety must be sought;
That by our own right hands it must be wrought;
That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.
O dastard whom such foretaste doth not cheer!
We shall exult, if they who rule the land
Be men who hold its many blessings dear,
Wise, upright, valiant; not a servile band,
Who are to judge of danger which they fear,
And honour which they do not understand.

by William Wordsworth

Mameen ~ David Whyte

[bleodswean.livejournal.com]

Be infinitesimal under that sky, a creature
even the sailing hawk misses, a wraith
among the rocks where the mist parts slowly.
Recall the way mere mortals are overwhelmed
by circumstance, how great reputations
dissolve with infirmity and how you,
in particular, live a hairsbreadth from losing
everyone you hold dear.

Then, look back down the path as if seeing
your past and then south over the hazy blue
coast as if present to a wide future.
Remember the way you are all possibilities
you can see and how you live best
as an appreciator of horizons,
whether you reach them or not.
Admit that once you have got up
from your chair and opened the door,
once you have walked out into the clean air
toward that edge and taken the path up high
beyond the ordinary, you have become
the privileged and the pilgrim,
the one who will tell the story
and the one, coming back
from the mountain,
who helped to make it.

"The Life to Come", by Edward Shillito

[med_cat]

The Life to Come

There is a City where God's happy children

Shall tread forever burnished floors, they say,

But I shall beg to walk in Oxford meadows

Where dance the golden flowers of May.

I cannot dream of walls upbuilt of jasper,

Nor can the gates of pearl the heart suffice:

Who once beholds the rainbows in a dewdrop

Has seen a pearl of greater price.

And when the harpers in that land are making

Strange melodies on earth unheard before,

If I might only hear once more Beethoven,

Then I should ask of God no more.

(Edward Shillito)