Quotes about graven, page 5
Chequer Board
Tomorrow [b]rings tomorrow, s[tr]ings today
Across the chequer board of day and night
Karmic - some say graven black on white -
Each on his Way must thread, to piper pay.
Time is a trick oasis, sent to play
Its cards to chaos compensate or right.
Master dream wave patterns with insight.
Enjoy life’s game untamed, don’t, blind, obey,
Out of kilter twisting Fate, whose sway
Filters much which to vain future bright
Fain would advance. Fight struggles senseless quite.
Nature teaches: overreach past spray.
Only open searching springs release,
Will Cause, Effect, combine, fine tune, [b]ring peace...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Ghost Of A Maiden
It's the end of an era
Another soul sold
To thou who is judging
Our rise and our fall
Another life graven
Another vessel deemed
Too unsuitable to live
Or so it had seemed
Another raven does call
At the merciless door
Of the beggar and rich man
And the tales of myth and folklore
The ghost of a maiden
Hair flaxen like straw
Lies cold in waiting
For once and ever more
[...] Read more
poem by Anni Sane
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A Gravestone Upon The Floor In The Cloisters Of Worcester Cathedral
'MISERRIMUS,' and neither name nor date,
Prayer, text, or symbol, graven upon the stone;
Nought but that word assigned to the unknown,
That solitary word--to separate
From all, and cast a cloud around the fate
Of him who lies beneath. Most wretched one,
'Who' chose his epitaph?--Himself alone
Could thus have dared the grave to agitate,
And claim, among the dead, this awful crown;
Nor doubt that He marked also for his own
Close to these cloistral steps a burial-place,
That every foot might fall with heavier tread,
Trampling upon his vileness. Stranger, pass
Softly!--To save the contrite, Jesus bled.
poem by William Wordsworth
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My Mournful Memorial
As I ambled through a maze of stony monoliths
on a manicured green grassed carpet.
My sadden eyes were overwhelmed with myriad
names and dates of yesteryear's deceased.
Each encounter confronted conveyed to me
a sad reminder of Mans mortality.
All had some story to tell if they could speak.
Most I hope died naturally, others unnaturally.
Their demise, a mise en scène mournfully staged
for the most part many agonized years ago.
Suddenly like a fated mirage my son materialized.
A victim of a vicious war fought on foreign soil.
I knelt before his grimly, graven grave
and placed a flag and flowery wreath..then wept.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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A Cameo
THERE WAS a graven image of Desire
Painted with red blood on a ground of gold
Passing between the young men and the old,
And by him Pain, whose body shone like fire,
And Pleasure with gaunt hands that grasped their hire.
Of his left wrist, with fingers clenched and cold,
The insatiable Satiety kept hold,
Walking with feet unshod that pashed the mire.
The senses and the sorrows and the sins,
And the strange loves that suck the breasts of Hate
Till lips and teeth bite in their sharp indenture,
Followed like beasts with flap of wings and fins.
Death stood aloof behind a gaping grate,
Upon whose lock was written Peradventure.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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John Ford: VI
HEW hard the marble from the mountain’s heart
Where hardest night holds fast in iron gloom
Gems brighter than an April dawn in bloom,
That his Memnoniah likeness thence may start
Revealed, whose hand with high funereal art
Carved night, and chiselled shadow: be the tomb
That speaks him famous graven with signs of doom
Intrenched inevitably in lines athwart,
As on some thunder-blasted Titan’s brow
His record of rebellion. Not the day
Shall strike forth music from so stern a chord,
Touching this marble: darkness, none knows how,
And stars impenetrable of midnight, may.
So locms the likeness of thy soul, John Ford.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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By Eve'ry Sweet Tradition of True Hearts
By ev'ry sweet tradition of true hearts,
Graven by Time, in love with his own lore;
By all old martyrdoms and antique smarts,
Wherein Love died to be alive the more;
Yea, by the sad impression on the shore,
Left by the drown'd Leander, to endear
That coast for ever, where the billow's roar
Moaneth for pity in the Poet's ear;
By Hero's faith, and the foreboding tear
That quench'd her brand's last twinkle in its fall;
By Sappho's leap, and the low rustling fear
That sigh'd around her flight; I swear by all,
The world shall find such pattern in my act,
As if Love's great examples still were lack'd.
poem by Thomas Hood
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Sonnet 100: Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long
To speak of that which gives thee all thy might?
Spend'st thou thy fury on some worthless song,
Darkening thy power to lend base subjects light?
Return, forgetful Muse, and straight redeem
In gentle numbers time so idly spent;
Sing to the ear that doth thy lays esteem,
And gives thy pen both skill and argument.
Rise, resty Muse, my love's sweet face survey
If time have any wrinkle graven there;
If any, be a satire to decay,
And make time's spoils despisèd everywhere.
Give my love fame faster than Time wastes life;
So thou prevent'st his scythe and crooked knife.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Rhymes Of A Life-Time
FROM the first gleam of morning to the gray
Of peaceful evening, lo, a life unrolled!
In woven pictures all its changes told,
Its lights, its shadows, every flitting ray,
Till the long curtain, falling, dims the day,
Steals from the dial's disk the sunlight's gold,
And all the graven hours grow dark and cold
Where late the glowing blaze of noontide lay.
Ah! the warm blood runs wild in youthful veins,--
Let me no longer play with painted fire;
New songs for new-born days! I would not tire
The listening ears that wait for fresher strains
In phrase new-moulded, new-forged rhythmic chains,
With plaintive measures from a worn-out lyre.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Columbus
Viceroy they made him, Admiral and Don,
Wishing—good King and Queen!—to honor
him
Whose deeds should make all like distinctions
dim.
Columbus! Other title needs he none.
And they—in wisdom more than kingship
blest—
Go down to future days, remembered best
For service rendered to that lowly one.
Columbus! With proud love, yet reverently,
Pronounce that name,—the name of one who
heard
A word of life, and, answering that word,
Braved death, unfearing, on the Shadowy Sea;
Who—seeking land not known to any chart,
That land by faith deep graven on his heart—
Found justice, truth, and human liberty!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
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