Archive for July 7th, 2007
The King
The King beneath the mountains, The King of carven stone,
The lord of silver fountains,
Shall come into his own!
His crown shall be upholden,
His harp shall be restrung,
His halls shall echo golden,
To songs of yore re-sung.
The woods shall wave on mountains,
And grass beneath the sun;
His wealth shall flow in fountains,
And the rivers golden run.
The streams shall run […]
Published by the tattooed poet on July 7th, 2007 tagged Mystical, Poetry | Comment now »
We Never Know
We never know how high we are
Till we are called to rise;
And then, if we are true to plan,
Our statures touch the skies.
The heroism we recite
Would be a daily thing,
Did not ourselves the cubits warp
For fear to be a king.
Emily Dickinson, Complete Poems. 1924. Part One: Life XCVII
emily dickinson, fear, heroism, […]
Published by the tattooed poet on July 7th, 2007 tagged Poetry | Comment now »
Kings and Priests
With thee on board, each sailor is a king
Nor I mere captain of my vessel then,
But heir of earth and heaven, eternal child;
Daring all truth, nor fearing anything;
Mighty in love, the servant of all men;
Resenting nothing, taking rage and blare
Into the Godlike silence of a loving care.
From Diary of an Old Soul, by George McDonald, […]