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The Story of My Life
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My Introduction to Religions
Poetry:
Mine and Yours:
My Poetry
Tessa's (White Tiger's) Poetry
Poets:
John Keats
Shelley
WB Yeats
William Woodsworth
William Blake
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The Rainbow
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
Sonnet
Mark the concentrated hazels that enclose
Yon old grey Stone, protected from the ray
Of noontide suns:-- and even the beams that play
And glance, while wantonly the rough wind blows,
Are seldom free to touch the moss that grows
Upon that roof, amid embowering gloom,
The very image framing of a Tomb,
In which some ancient Cheiftain finds repose
Amoung the lonely mountains.—Live, ye trees!
And thou, grey Stone, the pensive likeness keep
Of a dark chamber where the Mighty sleep:
For more than Fancy to the influence bends
When solitary Nature condescends
To mimic Times forlorn humanities.
Email: aphotic@yahoo.com
Aphotic, © 2001
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