• Poetry

    A PSALM OF LIFE

    12 total views, no views today Poetry A psalm of life Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Tell me not in mournful numbers,Life is but an empty dream!For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest!And the grave is not its goal;‘Dust thou art, to dust thou return-est’,Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,Is our destined end or way;But to act, that each tomorrowfinds us father than today. Art long, and Time is fleeting,And our hearts, though stout and brave,Still, like muffled drums, are beatingFuneral marches to the grave. In the world’s broad field of battle,In the bivouac of life,Be…

  • Poetry

    THE BALLAD OF FATHER GILLIGAN

    11 total views, no views today Poetry The ballad of father Gilligan William Butler Yeats The old priest peter GilliganWas weary night and day;For half has frock were in their beds,or under green sods lay. Once, while he nodded on a chair, the ballad of father gilligan At the moth-hour of eve,Another poor man sent for him,and he began to grieve. ‘I have no rest, nor joy, nor peace,For people die and die’;And after cried he, ‘God forgive!My body spake, not II’. He knelt, and learning on the chairHe prayed and fell asleep;And the moth-hour went from the fields,And stars began to peep. They slowly into millions grew,And leaves shook in…

  • Poetry

    DAFFODILS

    20 total views, no views today Poetry Daffodils William Wordsworth daffodils I wandered lonely as a cloudThat floats on high o’ev vales and hills,When all at once I saw a crowd,A host of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees,Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shineAnd twinkle on the milky way,They stretched in never-ending lineAlong the margin of a bay;Ten thousand saw I at a glance,Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but theyOut-did the sparkling waves in glee:A poet could not but be gay,In such a jocund company;I gazed-and gazed-but little thoughtWhat wealth the show to me had brought. For…

  • Poetry

    FISHING

    679 total views, no views today Poetry Fishing Gopa Ranjan Mishra Like a seasoned angler sure of his featWith fishing rod and line, and baitI said, “you all, wait for meFish-try tonight our dinner be.” Fishing Though none of them did say a wordOn my face, yet I heardSome chuckles sure at my backI told myself, “Let me come back.”To the nearby pond I straightaway ranWith fishing-tackle, and of course, a can;The minutes passed and the hours draggedIt seemed no luck that day I had. I thought fish-less I’d return homeAnd would face the jeers of someI threw my line with a fervent wish“Oh God, today please give me a fish.”…

  • Poetry

    TO MY TRUE FRIEND

    295 total views, no views today Poetry To my True Friend Elizabeth Pinard The day I met you to my true friend I found a friend – And a friendship that I pray will never end. Your smile – so sweet And so bright – Kept me going When day was as dark as night. You never ever judged me, You understood my sorrow. Then you told me it needn’t be that way And gave me the hope of a better tomorrow. You were always there for me, I knew I could count on you. You gave me advice and encouragement Whenever I didn’t know what to do. You helped me…

  • Poetry

    THE INCHCAPE ROCK

    28 total views, no views today Poetry The Inchcape Rock Robert Southey Unit INo stir in the air, no stir in the sea,The ship was still as she could be,Her sails from heaven received no motion,Her keel was steady in the ocean. Without either sign or sound of their shockThe waves flowed over the Inchcape Rock;So little they rose, so little they fell,They did not move the Inchcape Bell. The Abbot of AberbrothokHad placed that bell on the Inchcape Rock;on a buoy in the storm it floated and swung,And over the waves its warning rung. When the Rock was hid by the surge’s swell,The mariners heard the warning bell;And then they…

  • Poetry

    OFT, IN THE STILLY NIGHT

    13 total views, no views today Poetry Oft, in the Stilly Night Thomas Moore Oft, in the stilly night,Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,Fond memory brings the lightOf other days around me; The smiles, the tears,Of  boyhood’s years,The words of love then spoken,The eyes than shone; Now dimm’d and gone,The cheerful hearts now broken! Thus, in the stilly night,Ere Slumber”s chain hath bound me, Sad memory brings the lightOf other days around me.  When I remember allThe friends, so link’d together,I’ve seen around me fall,Like leaves in wintry weather;I feel like oneWho treads aloneSome Banquet-hall deserted,Whose lights are fled,Whose garlands dead,And all but he departed! Thus, in the stilly night,Ere slumber’s chain…

  • Poetry

    Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

    17 total views, no views today  Poetry STOPPING BY WOODS ON A SNOWY EVENING Robert Frost Whose woods there are I think I know..His house is in the village though;He will not see me stopping hereTo watch his woods till up with snow. My little horse must think it queerTo stop without a farm house nearBetween woods and frozen lakeThe darkest evening of the year. He gives his harnless bells a shakeTo ask if there is some mistake,The only other sound’s the sweepof easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep,But I have promises to keep,And miles to go before I sleep,And miles to go before I…

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