Both sad and uplifting. Wonderful.
Posted by ghostsniper at April 26, 2015 6:37 AMTo labor unwearied and with a soaring heart. Or should I say a 'young' heart?
Nice poem, Gerard.
---
"Unwearied then were Durin's folk;
Beneath the mountains music woke:
The harpers harped, the minstrels sang,
And at the gates the trumpets rang.
The world is grey, the mountains old,
The forge's fire is ashen-cold;
No harp is wrung, no hammer falls:
The darkness dwells in Durin's halls;
The shadow lies upon his tomb
In Moria, in Khazad-dûm.
But still the sunken stars appear
In dark and windless Mirrormere;
There lies his crown in water deep,
Till Durin wakes again from sleep."
tolkiengateway . net/wiki/Song_of_Durin
Posted by cond0011 at April 26, 2015 12:55 PMI am always up for more and more Kipling.
He wrote these words, "But the devil whoops, as he whooped of old: 'It's clever, but is it art?'"
Seems this poem is the opposite universe. Lovely.
Posted by Casey Klahn at April 26, 2015 4:14 PMTHE STRANGER
1908
The Stranger within my gate,
He may be true or kind,
But he does not talk my talk—
I cannot feel his mind.
I see the face and the eyes and the mouth,
But not the soul behind.
The men of my own stock,
They may do ill or well,
But they tell the lies I am wonted to,
They are used to the lies I tell;
And we do not need interpreters
When we go to buy or sell.
The Stranger within my gates,
He may be evil or good,
But I cannot tell what powers control—
What reasons sway his mood;
Nor when the Gods of his far-off land
Shall repossess his blood.
The men of my own stock,
Bitter bad they may be,
But, at least, they hear the things I hear,
And see the things I see;
And whatever I think of them and their likes
They think of the likes of me.
This was my father's belief
And this is also mine:
Let the corn be all one sheaf—
And the grapes be all one vine,
Ere our children's teeth are set on edge
By bitter bread and wine.
Thank God for the poets. And especially for you, Gerard. xoxo
Posted by AbigailAdams at April 27, 2015 9:18 AMThe Rank Stranger
I wandered again to my home in the mountain
Where in youths early dawn I was happy and free
I looked for my friends but I never could find them
I found they were all rank strangers to me
Everybody I met seemed to be a rank stranger
No mother no dad not a friend I could see
They knew not my name and I knew not their faces
I found they were all rank strangers to me
“They've moved all away” said the voice of a stranger
To a beautiful home by the bright crystal sea
Some beautiful day I'll meet them in Heaven
Where no one will be a stranger to me
Author: Albert E. Brumley
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I16YOPmmZbs
Nice one, Chas.
Here's another in the same vein. Enjoy! :)
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I am an orphan on God's highway
But I'll share my troubles if you go my way
I have no mother, no father
No sister, no brother
I am an orphan girl
I have had friendships pure and golden
The ties of kinship have not known them
I know no mother, no father
No sister, no brother
I am an orphan girl
But when He calls me I will be able
To meet my family at God's table
I'll meet my mother, my father
My sister, my brother
No more an orphan girl
Blessed Savior make me willing
Walk beside me until I'm with them
Be my mother, my father
My sister, my brother
I am an orphan girl
I am an orphan girl
~Orphan Girl - Gillian Welch
www . youtube . com/watch?v=9qZOOb02u-4
Yes, good. Thanks cond.
Posted by chasmatic at April 28, 2015 9:00 PM"... with brushes of comets' hair... But each for the joy of the working..."
Well said, Gerard.
Celestial and every-day; what Reality is made of.