Time to Live

Category: Poetry

  • No coward soul is mine
    No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere
    I see Heaven’s glories shine
    And Faith shines equal arming me from Fear

    O God within my breast
    Almighty ever-present Deity
    Life, that in me hast rest,
    As I Undying Life, have power in Thee

    Vain are the thousand creeds
    That move men’s hearts, unutterably vain,
    Worthless as withered weeds
    Or idlest froth amid the boundless main

    To waken doubt in one
    Holding so fast by thy infinity,
    So surely anchored on
    The steadfast rock of Immortality.

    With wide-embracing love
    Thy spirit animates eternal years
    Pervades and broods above,
    Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates and rears

    Though earth and moon were gone
    And suns and universes ceased to be
    And Thou wert left alone
    Every Existence would exist in thee

    There is not room for Death
    Nor atom that his might could render void
    Since thou art Being and Breath
    And what thou art may never be destroyed.

    Emily Bronte

  • Travelers, it is late.
    Life’s sun is going to set.
    During these brief days that you have strength,
    be quick and spare no effort of your wings.

    Rumi

  • The clear water sparkles like crystal,
    you can see through it easily, right to the bottom.
    My mind is free from every thought,
    nothing in the myriad realms can move it.


    Since it cannot be wantonly roused,
    forever and forever it will stay unchanged.
    When you have learned to know in this way,
    you’ll know there is no inside or out.

    Han Shan, Cold Mountain

  • The World is Too Much with Us

    The world is too much with us; late and soon,
    Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;—
    Little we see in Nature that is ours;
    We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
    This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
    The winds that will be howling at all hours,
    And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
    For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
    It moves us not. Great God! I’d rather be
    A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
    So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
    Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
    Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
    Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

  • I wandered lonely as a Cloud

    I wandered lonely as a Cloud
    That floats on high o’er Vales and Hills,
    When all at once I saw a crowd,
    A host of golden Daffodils;
    Beside the Lake, beneath the trees,
    Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

    (more…)

  • Walt Whitman

    Wisdom is not finally tested in schools;
    Wisdom cannot be pass’d from one having it, to another not having it;
    Wisdom is of the Soul, is not susceptible of proof, is its own proof,
    Applies to all stages and objects and qualities, and is content…