A Morning Exercise (William Wordsworth)
FANCY, who leads the pastimes of the glad,
Full oft is pleased a wayward dart to throw;
Sending sad shadows after things not sad,
Peopling the harmless fields with signs of woe:
Beneath her sway, a simple forest cry
Becomes an echo of man’s misery.
Blithe ravens croak of death; and when the owl
Tries his two voices for a favourite strain–
‘Tu-whit–Tu-whoo!’ the unsuspecting fowl
Forebodes mishap or seems but to complain;
Fancy, intent to harass and annoy,
Can thus pervert the evidence of joy.
Through border wilds where naked Indians stray,
Myriads of notes attest her subtle skill;
A feathered task-master cries, ‘WORK AWAY!’
And, in thy iteration, ‘WHIP POOR WILL!’
Is heard the spirit of a toil-worn slave,
Lashed out of life, not quiet in the grave.
What wonder? at her bidding, ancient lays
Steeped in dire grief the voice of Philomel;
And that fleet messenger of summer days,
The Swallow, twittered subject to like spell;
But ne’er could Fancy bend the buoyant Lark
To melancholy service–hark! O hark!
The daisy sleeps upon the dewy lawn,
Not lifting yet the head that evening bowed;
But ‘He’ is risen, a later star of dawn,
Glittering and twinkling near yon rosy cloud;
Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark;
The happiest bird that sprang out of the Ark!
Hail, blest above all kinds!–Supremely skilled
Restless with fixed to balance, high with low,
Thou leav’st the halcyon free her hopes to build
On such forbearance as the deep may show;
Perpetual flight, unchecked by earthly ties,
Leav’st to the wandering bird of paradise.
Faithful, though swift as lightning, the meek dove;
Yet more hath Nature reconciled in thee;
So constant with thy downward eye of love,
Yet, in aerial singleness, so free;
So humble, yet so ready to rejoice
In power of wing and never-wearied voice.
To the last point of vision, and beyond,
Mount, daring warbler!–that love-prompted strain,
(‘Twixt thee and thine a never-failing bond)
Thrills not the less the bosom of the plain:
Yet might’st thou seem, proud privilege! to sing
All independent of the leafy spring.
How would it please old Ocean to partake,
With sailors longing for a breeze in vain,
The harmony thy notes most gladly make
Where earth resembles most his own domain!
Urania’s self might welcome with pleased ear
These matins mounting towards her native sphere.
Chanter by heaven attracted, whom no bars
To day-light known deter from that pursuit,
‘Tis well that some sage instinct, when the stars
Come forth at evening, keeps Thee still and mute;
For not an eyelid could to sleep incline
Wert thou among them, singing as they shine!
– William Wordsworth
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Lines Written In Early Spring (William Wordsworth)
I HEARD a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.
To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.
Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.
The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:—
But the least motion which they made,
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.
The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.
If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?
– William Wordsworth
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Written In March (William Wordsworth)
The cock is crowing,
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter
The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one!
Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The plowboy is whooping- anon-anon:
There’s joy in the mountains;
There’s life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone
– William Wordsworth
http://www.aromaticcoffees.co.uk
gone!
Condolences – 4U 9525
To all those who have lost relatives and friends in the tragic air crash in the Alps yesterday – we are thinking of you, and mourn with you.
Look for me in Rainbows
Time for me to go now, I won’t say goodbye;
Look for me in rainbows, way up in the sky.
In the morning sunrise when all the world is new,
Just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.
Time for me to leave you, I won’t say goodbye;
Look for me in rainbows, high up in the sky.
In the evening sunset, when all the world is through,
Just look for me and love me, and I’ll be close to you.
It won’t be forever, the day will come and then
My loving arms will hold you, when we meet again.
Time for us to part now, we won’t say goodbye;
Look for me in rainbows, shining in the sky.
Every waking moment, and all your whole life through
Just look for me and love me, as you know I loved you.
Just wish me to be near you,
And I’ll be there with you.
– Music and lyrics: Conn Bernard, Vicki Brown
Mercy
Some wonderful quotes there. Thank you.
A little bit of mercy makes the world less cold and more just. ~Pope Francis
I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice. ~Abraham Lincoln
God’s mercy and grace give me hope – for myself, and for our world. ~Billy Graham
#rethinkchurch #Lent2015
Calm Is All Nature As A Resting Wheel (William Wordsworth)
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel.
The kine are couched upon the dewy grass;
The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass,
Is cropping audibly his later meal:
Dark is the ground; a slumber seems to steal
O’er vale, and mountain, and the starless sky.
Now, in this blank of things, a harmony,
Home-felt, and home-created, comes to heal
That grief for which the senses still supply
Fresh food; for only then, when memory
Is hushed, am I at rest. My Friends! restrain
Those busy cares that would allay my pain;
Oh! leave me to myself, nor let me feel
The officious touch that makes me droop again.
– William Wordsworth
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op again.
My Heart Leaps Up (William Wordsworth)
Time for some of my favourite poems over the next few days from one of my favourite poets.
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
– William Wordsworth
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Tolerance – by Thomas Hardy
‘It is a foolish thing,’ said I,
‘To bear with such, and pass it by;
Yet so I do, I know not why!’
And at each clash I would surmise
That if I had acted otherwise
I might have saved me many sighs.
But now the only happiness
In looking back that I possess —
Whose lack would leave me comfortless —
Is to remember I refrained
From masteries I might have gained,
And for my tolerance was disdained;
– Thomas Hardy
http://www.aromaticcoffees.co.uk
For see, a tomb. And if it were
I had bent and broke, I should not dare
To linger in the shadows there.
Three Reasons Differences are Awesome
How very true – I like this. Recognising and celebrating differences leads to not only tolerance, but also growth and strength
Although our differences by definition are said to separate us, they in fact bring us together in a number of ways. Here are a few reasons why our differences are awesome:
- What separates us helps usgrow – from our differences to other people, there is an wealth of learning material to be gained from how other people live, interact and react, by observing people’s strengths and mistakes when faced with certain situations. Another’s achievements and assets raise our expectations of ourselves and our desire to be better.
- What separates us broadens our perspectives – to make something more successful, to power progress, to establish peace and love in the world, we need different perspectives. Sometimes our viewpoint is too blind on its own, but coupled with others, it is powerful. And so, what separates us also binds us into a common vision.
- What separates us gives us abundance – life would be…
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The Religious Tolerance Poem
Devil and sage have to live
Profess differently but to believe
The life demands to live together
“Let people die” but we always differ
“It is piece of land on earth”
Heaven on earth but incurring deaths
People die of terrorist attack in succession
Politicians enjoy the strained relation
No help reaches to people
Natural calamity always forces to struggle
Youth is turning to violence
The atmosphere is really tense
Historical facts can’ be denied
People must be relied
The land can’t be separated
– Hasmukh Amathalal
http://www.aromaticcoffees.co.uk
Merely because minority has migrated
The religious tolerance is must
There has to be restoration of trust
Outside threat can be eliminated
Inside peace should be culminated
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