If grief for grief can touch thee

Nonchalant · #1 Friday, June 13, 2008

If grief for grief can touch thee,
If answering woe for woe,
If any truth can melt thee
Come to me now!

I cannot be more lonely,
More drear I cannot be!
My worn heart beats so wildly
'Twill break for thee--

And when the world despises--
When Heaven repels my prayer--
Will not mine angel comfort?
Mine idol hear?

Yes, by the tears I'm poured,
By all my hours of pain
O I shall surely win thee,
Beloved, again!

S.H.Virk · #2 Monday, June 16, 2008

Quote:

Originally Posted by aano

And when the world despises--
When Heaven repels my prayer--
Will not mine angel comfort?
Mine idol hear?

Yes, by the tears I'm poured,
By all my hours of pain
O I shall surely win thee,
Beloved, again!

************************************************** ***

IN the pain, in the loneliness of love,
To the heart of my sweet I fled.
I knocked at the door of her living heart,
“Let in—let in—” I said.

“What seek you here?” the voices cried,
“You seeker among the dead”—
“Herself I seek, herself I seek,
Let in—let in!” I said.

They opened the door of her living heart,
But the core thereof was dead.
They opened the core of her living heart—
A worm at the core there fed.

“Where is my sweet, where is my sweet?”
“She is gone away, she is fled.
Long years ago she fled away,
She will never return,” they said.

Sureshlasi · #3 Monday, June 16, 2008

Yes, holy be thy resting place
Wherever thou may'st lie;
The sweetest winds breathe on thy face,
The softest of the sky.

And will not guardian Angles send
Kind dreams and thoughts of love,
Though I no more may watchful bend
Thy longed repose above?

And will not heaven itself bestow
A beam of glory there
That summer's grass more green may grow,
And summer's flowers more fair?

Farewell, farewell, 'tis hard to part
Yet, loved one, it must be:
I would not rend another heart
Not even by blessing thee.

Go! We must break affection's chain,
Forget the hopes of years:
Nay, grieve not - willest thou remain
To waken wilder tears

This herald breeze with thee and me,
Roved in the dawning day:
And thou shouldest be where it shall be
Ere evening, far away.

Nonchalant · #4 Friday, June 20, 2008

The Rose in the Deeps of His Heart

All things uncomely and broken,
all things worn-out and old,
The cry of a child by the roadway,
the creak of a lumbering cart,

The heavy steps of the ploughman,
splashing the wintry mould,
Are wronging your image that blossoms
a rose in the deeps of my heart.

The wrong of unshapely things
is a wrong too great to be told;
I hunger to build them anew
and sit on a green knoll apart,

With the earth and the sky and the water,
remade, like a casket of gold
For my dreams of your image that blossoms
a rose in the deeps of my heart.

@suresh
thnx brother for ur beautiful contribution...

@Haider
Brother....Long Live The Buffalo Seeker

AANO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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The Following 3 Users Say Thank You to Nonchalant For This Useful Post:
pomi1005 (Friday, June 20, 2008), Sureshlasi (Monday, June 16, 2008)

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