some poetry
The universe is part of this one cry
In this strange land where all are born to die,
Each tree and leaf and star shall have,
The universe as part of this one cry.
That every life is noted and is cherished,
And nothing loved is ever lost or perished.
I saw Eternity the other night,
Like a great ring of pure and endless light,
All calm, as it was bright;
And round beneath it, Time in hours, days, years,
Driv'n by the spheres
Like a vast shadow mov'd; in which the world
And all her train were hurl'd.
The doting lover in his quaintest strain
Did there complain;
Near him, his lute, his fancy, and his flights,
Wit's sour delights,
With gloves, and knots, the silly snares of pleasure,
Yet his dear treasure
All scatter'd lay, while he his eyes did pour
Upon a flow'r.
I don't know why, I just really like that. ~Brie
In this strange land where all are born to die,
Each tree and leaf and star shall have,
The universe as part of this one cry.
That every life is noted and is cherished,
And nothing loved is ever lost or perished.
I saw Eternity the other night,
Like a great ring of pure and endless light,
All calm, as it was bright;
And round beneath it, Time in hours, days, years,
Driv'n by the spheres
Like a vast shadow mov'd; in which the world
And all her train were hurl'd.
The doting lover in his quaintest strain
Did there complain;
Near him, his lute, his fancy, and his flights,
Wit's sour delights,
With gloves, and knots, the silly snares of pleasure,
Yet his dear treasure
All scatter'd lay, while he his eyes did pour
Upon a flow'r.
I don't know why, I just really like that. ~Brie