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Best Famous Stimulated Poems

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Written by Kahlil Gibran | Create an image from this poem

A Poets Voice XV

 Part One


The power of charity sows deep in my heart, and I reap and gather the wheat in bundles and give them to the hungry.
My soul gives life to the grapevine and I press its bunches and give the juice to the thirsty.
Heaven fills my lamp with oil and I place it at my window to direct the stranger through the dark.
I do all these things because I live in them; and if destiny should tie my hands and prevent me from so doing, then death would be my only desire.
For I am a poet, and if I cannot give, I shall refuse to receive.
Humanity rages like a tempest, but I sigh in silence for I know the storm must pass away while a sigh goes to God.
Human kinds cling to earthly things, but I seek ever to embrace the torch of love so it will purify me by its fire and sear inhumanity from my heart.
Substantial things deaden a man without suffering; love awakens him with enlivening pains.
Humans are divided into different clans and tribes, and belong to countries and towns.
But I find myself a stranger to all communities and belong to no settlement.
The universe is my country and the human family is my tribe.
Men are weak, and it is sad that they divide amongst themselves.
The world is narrow and it is unwise to cleave it into kingdoms, empires, and provinces.
Human kinds unite themselves one to destroy the temples of the soul, and they join hands to build edifices for earthly bodies.
I stand alone listening to the voice of hope in my deep self saying, "As love enlivens a man's heart with pain, so ignorance teaches him the way of knowledge.
" Pain and ignorance lead to great joy and knowledge because the Supreme Being has created nothing vain under the sun.
Part Two I have a yearning for my beautiful country, and I love its people because of their misery.
But if my people rose, stimulated by plunder and motivated by what they call "patriotic spirit" to murder, and invaded my neighbor's country, then upon the committing of any human atrocity I would hate my people and my country.
I sing the praise of my birthplace and long to see the home of my children; but if the people in that home refused to shelter and feed the needy wayfarer, I would convert my praise into anger and my longing to forgetfulness.
My inner voice would say, "The house that does not comfort the need is worthy of naught by destruction.
" I love my native village with some of my love for my country; and I love my country with part of my love for the earth, all of which is my country; and I love the earth will all of myself because it is the haven of humanity, the manifest spirit of God.
Humanity is the spirit of the Supreme Being on earth, and that humanity is standing amidst ruins, hiding its nakedness behind tattered rags, shedding tears upon hollow cheeks, and calling for its children with pitiful voice.
But the children are busy singing their clan's anthem; they are busy sharpening the swords and cannot hear the cry of their mothers.
Humanity appeals to its people but they listen not.
Were one to listen, and console a mother by wiping her tears, other would say, "He is weak, affected by sentiment.
" Humanity is the spirit of the Supreme Being on earth, and that Supreme Being preaches love and good-will.
But the people ridicule such teachings.
The Nazarene Jesus listened, and crucifixion was his lot; Socrates heard the voice and followed it, and he too fell victim in body.
The followers of The Nazarene and Socrates are the followers of Deity, and since people will not kill them, they deride them, saying, "Ridicule is more bitter than killing.
" Jerusalem could not kill The Nazarene, nor Athens Socrates; they are living yet and shall live eternally.
Ridicule cannot triumph over the followers of Deity.
They live and grow forever.
Part Three Thou art my brother because you are a human, and we both are sons of one Holy Spirit; we are equal and made of the same earth.
You are here as my companion along the path of life, and my aid in understanding the meaning of hidden Truth.
You are a human, and, that fact sufficing, I love you as a brother.
You may speak of me as you choose, for Tomorrow shall take you away and will use your talk as evidence for his judgment, and you shall receive justice.
You may deprive me of whatever I possess, for my greed instigated the amassing of wealth and you are entitled to my lot if it will satisfy you.
You may do unto me whatever you wish, but you shall not be able to touch my Truth.
You may shed my blood and burn my body, but you cannot kill or hurt my spirit.
You may tie my hands with chains and my feet with shackles, and put me in the dark prison, but who shall not enslave my thinking, for it is free, like the breeze in the spacious sky.
You are my brother and I love you.
I love you worshipping in your church, kneeling in your temple, and praying in your mosque.
You and I and all are children of one religion, for the varied paths of religion are but the fingers of the loving hand of the Supreme Being, extended to all, offering completeness of spirit to all, anxious to receive all.
I love you for your Truth, derived from your knowledge; that Truth which I cannot see because of my ignorance.
But I respect it as a divine thing, for it is the deed of the spirit.
Your Truth shall meet my Truth in the coming world and blend together like the fragrance of flowers and becoming one whole and eternal Truth, perpetuating and living in the eternity of Love and Beauty.
I love you because you are weak before the strong oppressor, and poor before the greedy rich.
For these reasons I shed tears and comfort you; and from behind my tears I see you embraced in the arms of Justice, smiling and forgiving your persecutors.
You are my brother and I love you.
Part Four You are my brother, but why are you quarreling with me? Why do you invade my country and try to subjugate me for the sake of pleasing those who are seeking glory and authority? Why do you leave your wife and children and follow Death to the distant land for the sake of those who buy glory with your blood, and high honor with your mother's tears? Is it an honor for a man to kill his brother man? If you deem it an honor, let it be an act of worship, and erect a temple to Cain who slew his brother Abel.
Is self-preservation the first law of Nature? Why, then, does Greed urge you to self-sacrifice in order only to achieve his aim in hurting your brothers? Beware, my brother, of the leader who says, "Love of existence obliges us to deprive the people of their rights!" I say unto you but this: protecting others' rights is the noblest and most beautiful human act; if my existence requires that I kill others, then death is more honorable to me, and if I cannot find someone to kill me for the protection of my honor, I will not hesitate to take my life by my own hands for the sake of Eternity before Eternity comes.
Selfishness, my brother, is the cause of blind superiority, and superiority creates clanship, and clanship creates authority which leads to discord and subjugation.
The soul believes in the power of knowledge and justice over dark ignorance; it denies the authority that supplies the swords to defend and strengthen ignorance and oppression - that authority which destroyed Babylon and shook the foundation of Jerusalem and left Rome in ruins.
It is that which made people call criminals great mean; made writers respect their names; made historians relate the stories of their inhumanity in manner of praise.
The only authority I obey is the knowledge of guarding and acquiescing in the Natural Law of Justice.
What justice does authority display when it kills the killer? When it imprisons the robber? When it descends on a neighborhood country and slays its people? What does justice think of the authority under which a killer punishes the one who kills, and a thief sentences the one who steals? You are my brother, and I love you; and Love is justice with its full intensity and dignity.
If justice did not support my love for you, regardless of your tribe and community, I would be a deceiver concealing the ugliness of selfishness behind the outer garment of pure love.
Conclusion My soul is my friend who consoles me in misery and distress of life.
He who does not befriend his soul is an enemy of humanity, and he who does not find human guidance within himself will perish desperately.
Life emerges from within, and derives not from environs.
I came to say a word and I shall say it now.
But if death prevents its uttering, it will be said tomorrow, for tomorrow never leaves a secret in the book of eternity.
I came to live in the glory of love and the light of beauty, which are the reflections of God.
I am here living, and the people are unable to exile me from the domain of life for they know I will live in death.
If they pluck my eyes I will hearken to the murmers of love and the songs of beauty.
If they close my ears I will enjoy the touch of the breeze mixed with the incebse of love and the fragrance of beauty.
If they place me in a vacuum, I will live together with my soul, the child of love and beauty.
I came here to be for all and with all, and what I do today in my solitude will be echoed by tomorrow to the people.
What I say now with one heart will be said tomorrow by many hearts


Written by William Topaz McGonagall | Create an image from this poem

The Battle of Alexandria

 It was on the 21st of March in the year of 1801,
The British were at their posts every man;
And their position was naturally very strong,
And the whole line from sea to lake was about a mile long.
And on the ruins of a Roman Palace, rested the right, And every man amongst them was eager for the fight, And the reserve was under the command of Major General Moore, A hero brave, whose courage was both firm and sure.
And in the valley between the right were the cavalry, Which was really a most beautiful sight to see; And the 28th were posted in a redoubt open in the rear, Determined to hold it to the last without the least fear.
And the Guards and the Inniskillings were eager for the fray, Also the Gordon Highlanders and Cameron Highlanders in grand array; Likewise the dismounted Cavalry and the noble Dragoons, Who never fear'd the cannons shot when it loudly booms.
And between the two armies stretched a sandy plain, Which the French tried to chase the British off, but it was all in vain, And a more imposing battle-field seldom has been chosen, But alack the valour of the French soon got frozen.
Major General Moore was the general officer of the night, And had galloped off to the left and to the right, The instant he heard the enemy briskly firing; He guessed by their firing they had no thought of retiring.
Then a wild broken huzza was heard from the plain below, And followed by a rattle of musketry from the foe; Then the French advanced in column with their drums loudly beating, While their officers cried forward men and no retreating.
Then the colonel of the 58th reserved his fire, Until the enemy drew near, which was his desire; Then he ordered his men to attack them from behind the palace wall, Then he opened fire at thirty yards, which did the enemy appal.
And thus assailed in front, flank and rear, The French soon began to shake with fear; Then the 58th charged them with the bayonet, with courage unshaken, And all the enemy that entered the palace ruins were killed or taken.
Then the French Invincibles, stimulated by liquor and the promise of gold, Stole silently along the valley with tact and courage bold, Proceeded by a 6 pounder gun, between the right of the guards, But brave Lieutenant-Colonel Stewart quickly their progress retards.
Then Colonel Stewart cried to the right wing, Forward! My lads, and make the valley ring, And charge them with your bayonets and capture their gun, And before very long they will be glad to run.
Then loudly grew the din of battle, like to rend the skies, As Major Stirling's left wing faced, and charged them likewise; Then the Invincibles maddened by this double attack, Dashed forward on the palace ruins, but they soon were driven back.
And by the 58th, and Black Watch they were brought to bay, here, But still they were resolved to sell their lives most dear, And it was only after 650 of them had fallen in the fray, That the rest threw down their arms and quickly ran away.
Then unexpected, another great body of the enemy was seen, With their banners waving in the breeze, most beautiful and green; And advancing on the left of the redoubt, But General Moore instantly ordered the Black Watch out.
And he cried, brave Highlanders you are always in the hottest of the fight, Now make ready for the bayonet charge with all your might; And remember our country and your forefathers As soon as the enemy and ye foregathers.
Then the Black Watch responded with a loud shout, And charged them with their bayonets without fear or doubt; And the French tried hard to stand the charge, but it was all in vain, And in confusion they all fled across the sandy plain.
Oh! It was a glorious victory, the British gained that day, But the joy of it, alas! Was unfortunately taken away, Because Sir Ralph Abercrombie, in the hottest of the fight, was shot, And for his undaunted bravery, his name will never be forgot.
Written by Emily Dickinson | Create an image from this poem

Smiling back from Coronation

 Smiling back from Coronation
May be Luxury --
On the Heads that started with us --
Being's Peasantry --

Recognizing in Procession
Ones We former knew --
When Ourselves were also dusty --
Centuries ago --

Had the Triumph no Conviction
Of how many be --
Stimulated -- by the Contrast --
Unto Misery --

Book: Shattered Sighs