Written by
Robert William Service |
Tell me, Tramp, where I may go
To be free from human woe;
Say where I may hope to find
Ease of heart and peace of mind;
Is thee not some isle you know
Where I may leave Care behind?
So spoke one is sore distress,
And I answered softly: "Yes,
There's an isle so sweet and kind
So to clemency inclined,
So serene in loveliness
That the blind may lead the blind.
"Where there is no shade of fear,
For the sun shines all the year,
And there hangs on every tree
Fruit and food for you an me:
With each dawn so crystal clear
How like heaven earth can be!
"Where in mild and friendly clime
You will lose all count of time,
See the seasons blend in one,
Under sovereignty of sun;
Day with day resolve in rhyme,
Reveries and nothing done.
"You will mock the ocean roar,
Knowing you will evermore
Bide beside a lorn lagoon,
Listen to the ripples croon
On the muteness of the shore,
Silver-shattered in the moon.
"Come, let's quit this sorry strife,
Seek a sweeter, saner life,
Go so far, so very far
It just seems another star.
Go where joy and love are rife,
Go where peace and plenty are."
But he answered: "Brother, no,
To your isle I'll never go,
For the pity in my heart
Will not let me live apart
From God's world of want and woe:
I will stay and play my part,
Strive and suffer . . . Be it so."
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Written by
Emily Dickinson |
Most she touched me by her muteness --
Most she won me by the way
She presented her small figure --
Plea itself -- for Charity --
Were a Crumb my whole possession --
Were there famine in the land --
Were it my resource from starving --
Could I such a plea withstand --
Not upon her knee to thank me
Sank this Beggar from the Sky --
But the Crumb partook -- departed --
And returned On High --
I supposed -- when sudden
Such a Praise began
'Twas as Space sat singing
To herself -- and men --
'Twas the Winged Beggar --
Afterward I learned
To her Benefactor
Making Gratitude
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Written by
Robert William Service |
Oh if it were not for my wife
And family increase,
How gladly would I close my life
In monastery peace!
A sweet and scented isle I know
Where monks in muteness dwell,
And there in sereness I would go
And seek a cell.
On milk and oaten meal I'd live,
With carrot, kail and cheese;
The greens that tiny gardens give,
The bounty of the bees.
Then war might rage, I would not know,
Or knowing would not care:
No echo of a world of woe
Would irk me there.
And I would be forgotten too
As mankind I forgot;
Read Shakespeare and the Bible through,
And brood in quiet thought.
Content with birds and trees and flowers
In mellow age to find
'Mid monastery's holy hours
God's Peace of Mind.
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