The loss so great his life could never heal.
The loss so great his life could never heal.
I love the vivid life of winter months
In constant intercourse with human minds,
When every new experience is gain
And on all sides we feel the great world's heart;
The pulse and throb of life which makes us men!
Life is what
Might best be conjured up by the word: 'Hell'.
The blue crest of the distant mountain, tops
The green crest of the hill on which I sit;
And it is summer, glorious, deep-toned summer,
The very crown of nature's changing year
When all her surging life is at its full.
Instead, take from me all my life!
A face seen passing in a crowded street,
A voice heard singing music, large and free;
And from that moment life is changed, and we
Become of more heroic temper, meet
To freely ask and give, a man complete
Radiant because of faith, we dare to be
What Nature meant us.
A flaming nebula
Rims in my life.
Sudden we lack
The flash of insight, life grows drear and gray,
And hour follows hour, nerveless, slack.
For life alone is creator of life,
And closest contact with the human world
Is like a lantern shining in the night
To light me to a knowledge of myself.
For books are more than books, they are the life, the very heart and core of ages past, the reason why men worked and died, the essence and quintessence of their lives.
I was drunk with the lust of his life.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories