Description

Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost.Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, Which in the very thought renews the fear.So bitter is it, death is little more; But of the good to treat, which there I found, Speak will I of the other things I saw there.I cannot well repeat how there I entered, So full was I of slumber at the moment In which I had abandoned the true way.But after I had reached a mountain's foot, At that point where the valley terminated, Which had with consternation pierced my heart,Upward I looked, and I beheld its shoulders, Vested already with that planet's rays Which leadeth others right by every road.Then was the fear a little quieted That in my heart's lake had endured throughout The night, which I had passed so piteously.And even as he, who, with distressful breath, Forth issued from the sea upon the shore, Turns to the water perilous and gazes;So did my soul, that still was fleeing onward, Turn itself back to re-behold the pass Which never yet a living person left.After my weary body I had rested, The way resumed I on the desert slope, So that the firm foot ever was the lower.And lo! almost where the ascent began, A panther light and swift exceedingly, Which with a spotted skin was covered o'er!And never moved she from before my face, Nay, rather did impede so much my way, That many times I to return had turned.The time was the beginning of the morning, And up the sun was mounting with those stars That with him were, what time the Love DivineAt first in motion set those beauteous things; So were to me occasion of good hope, The variegated skin of that wild beast,The hour of time, and the delicious season; But not so much, that did not give me fear A lion's aspect which appeared to me.Download The Divine Comedy Of Dante Alighieri Now!

Description

This beautiful, heart-stirring verse is the creation of nationally recognized poet, Genie Graveline. This quality product is 8x10 in size. It is double-matted in a rich burgundy over dark green. The Verse is ......"A Mother And Son" ...... There's a very special bond between and mother and her son,...... A closeness which grows deeper through the years....... It's marked by tender moments, crazy antics, quiet talks,...... And strengthened as they share their hopes and fears....... It forms and it develops very early on in life,...... When he's unsure, but she says, "Yes, you can!...... The bond remains unbroken growing ever stronger still,...... Until her little boy becomes a man....... Then as they both grow older, little things begin to change......... And she learns she can rely upon her son....... Life completes its circle, though at times to her it's strange,...... For in her heart he's still her "little one.......

Features

• SAME DAY SHIPPING (if ordered by 12pm weekdays)
• Poetry prints include a double mat
• Enhanced with delicate, watercolor graphics
• Also available with a frame. See our other products
• These expressions of love have been written for the special people in your life

Description

An Excerpt from the book-I. Lives there a strain, whose sounds of mounting fire May rise distinguished o'er the din of war; Or died it with yon Master of the Lyre Who sung beleaguered Ilion's evil star? Such, WELLINGTON, might reach thee from afar, Wafting its descant wide o'er Ocean's range; Nor shouts, nor clashing arms, its mood could mar, All, as it swelled 'twixt each loud trumpet-change,That clangs to Britain victory, to Portugal revenge!II. Yes! such a strain, with all o'er-pouring measure, Might melodise with each tumultuous sound Each voice of fear or triumph, woe or pleasure, That rings Mondego's ravaged shores around; The thundering cry of hosts with conquest crowned, The female shriek, the ruined peasant's moan, The shout of captives from their chains unbound, The foiled oppressor's deep and sullen groan,A Nation's choral hymn, for tyranny o'erthrown.III. But we, weak minstrels of a laggard day Skilled but to imitate an elder page, Timid and raptureless, can we repay The debt thou claim'st in this exhausted age? Thou givest our lyres a theme, that might engage Those that could send thy name o'er sea and land, While sea and land shall last; for Homer's rage A theme; a theme for Milton's mighty hand -How much unmeet for us, a faint degenerate band!IV. Ye mountains stern! within whose rugged breast The friends of Scottish freedom found repose; Ye torrents! whose hoarse sounds have soothed their rest, Returning from the field of vanquished foes; Say, have ye lost each wild majestic close That erst the choir of Bards or Druids flung, What time their hymn of victory arose, And Cattraeth's glens with voice of triumph rung,And mystic Merlin harped, and grey-haired Llywarch sung?V. Oh! if your wilds such minstrelsy retain, As sure your changeful gales seem oft to say, When sweeping wild and sinking soft again, Like trumpet-jubilee, or harp's wild sway; If ye can echo such triumphant lay, Then lend the note to him has loved you long! Who pious gathered each tradition grey That floats your solitary wastes along,And with affection vain gave them new voice in song.VI. For not till now, how oft soe'er the task Of truant verse hath lightened graver care, From Muse or Sylvan was he wont to ask, In phrase poetic, inspiration fair; Careless he gave his numbers to the air, They came unsought for, if applauses came: Nor for himself prefers he now the prayer; Let but his verse befit a hero's fame,Immortal be the verse!--forgot the poet's name!VII. Hark, from yon misty cairn their answer tost: "Minstrel! the fame of whose romantic lyre, Capricious-swelling now, may soon be lost, Like the light flickering of a cottage fire; If to such task presumptuous thou aspire, Seek not from us the meed to warrior due: Age after age has gathered son to sire Since our grey cliffs the din of conflict knew,Or, pealing through our vales, victorious bugles blew.

Description

Honey. Beeswax. Pollinate. Hive. Colony. Work. Dance. Communicate. Industrious. Buzz. Sting. Cooperate. Where would we be without them? Where would we be without one another? In eighty-two poems and paragraphs, Naomi Shihab Nye alights on the essentials of our time—our loved ones, our dense air, our wars, our memories, our planet—and leaves us feeling curiously sweeter and profoundly soothed.

Features

• ISBN13: 9780060853907
• Condition: New
• Notes: BRAND NEW FROM PUBLISHER! BUY WITH CONFIDENCE, Over one million books sold! 98% Positive feedback. Compare our books, prices and service to the competition. 100% Satisfaction Guaranteed

Description

And he repulséd, (a short tale to make), Fell into a sadness; then into a fast; Thence to a watch; thence into a weakness; Thence to a lightness; and by this declension, Into the madness wherein now he raves.

Description

Here are SOME of the exciting stories in this book:  Did you ever make friends with a scared raccoon?  Did you ever see a patch-eyed pirate sneaking around the backyard?  Did you ever hear a strange little girl talking to flowers?  Did you ever have a pizza party in a tree-house?  Did you ever see a young boy from a poor family writing poetry?After reading the stories, each of the rhyming poems also tells a story. Read about the swan who saved his love-mate from hungry wolves.  Read about a tough-looking rhinoceros who loved to read poetry. Read about a poor skunk who had trouble finding friends.  Read about “Stretchy” giraffe who needed help with his long neck..  Read about a little girls dolls who were left without a Mommy.  Read about two little fish who learned NEVER to nibble on worms.  Read about what kids do on rainy days when they can’t go out.  Read to learn that everyone has troubles they must learn to solve. These and many more stories and poems will keep the juvenile reader in suspense waiting to see how each one ends. All stories have beginnings that grab you… middles that hold you and endings that haunt you. Read ‘em all and find out for yourself!

Description

An Excerpt from the book- IGOBLIN MARKETMorning and eveningMaids heard the goblins cry:'Come buy our orchard fruits,Come buy, come buy:Apples and quinces,Lemons and oranges,Plump unpecked cherries,Melons and raspberries,Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,Swart-headed mulberries, 10Wild free-born cranberries,Crab-apples, dewberries,Pine-apples, blackberries,Apricots, strawberries;--All ripe togetherIn summer weather,--Morns that pass by,Fair eves that fly;Come buy, come buy:Our grapes fresh from the vine, 20Pomegranates full and fine,Dates and sharp bullaces,Rare pears and greengages,Damsons and bilberries,Taste them and try:Currants and gooseberries,Bright-fire-like barberries,Figs to fill your mouth,Citrons from the South,Sweet to tongue and sound to eye; 30Come buy, come buy.' Evening by eveningAmong the brookside rushes,Laura bowed her head to hear,Lizzie veiled her blushes:Crouching close togetherIn the cooling weather,With clasping arms and cautioning lips,With tingling cheeks and finger tips.'Lie close,' Laura said, 40Pricking up her golden head:'We must not look at goblin men,We must not buy their fruits:Who knows upon what soil they fedTheir hungry thirsty roots?''Come buy,' call the goblinsHobbling down the glen.'Oh,' cried Lizzie, 'Laura, Laura,You should not peep at goblin men.'Lizzie covered up her eyes, 50Covered close lest they should look;Laura reared her glossy head,And whispered like the restless brook:'Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie,Down the glen tramp little men.One hauls a basket,One bears a plate,One lugs a golden dishOf many pounds weight.How fair the vine must grow 60Whose grapes are so luscious;How warm the wind must blowThrough those fruit bushes.''No,' said Lizzie, 'No, no, no;Their offers should not charm us,Their evil gifts would harm us.'She thrust a dimpled fingerIn each ear, shut eyes and ran:Curious Laura chose to lingerWondering at each merchant man.

Description

This beautiful, heart-stirring verse is sure to touch your heart in a profound and meaningful way. It was created by nationally recognized poet, Genie Graveline. Genie's work can be found in fine gifts shops throughout the country. This quality product is 8x10 in size. It is double- The Verse is ........... A Single Parents PrayerDear Lord, help me please, till each day is done, To do a good job, though Im only one. Fill me with patience and guide me along. Let me be gentle and caring and strong. I ask that you send my children to me, With their questions & fears, whatever they be. And never allow me to shut them out, For listening is part of what love is about. Lord, please dont let me be sharp of tongue Or ever forget what its like to be young. Fill me with wisdom and grant me some space, When Im tired and in need of a quiet place. Let me be there to comfort and cheer, To share in a laugh or dry a tear. And may hugs and kisses be part of each day As we bolster each other along the way. Then when theyre grown and Ive done my best, Lord, could you grant me a moment to rest!

Features

• Original Poems by Genie Graveline
• Poetry prints include a double mat
• Enhanced with delicate, watercolor graphics
• These expressions of love have been written for the special people in your life
• Each poem is intended to become a treasured keepsake

Description

An Excerpt from the book- I. Though here fair blooms the rose and the woodbine waves on high, And oak and elm and bracken frond enrich the rolling lea, And winds as if from Arcady breathe joy as they go by, Yet I yearn and I pine for my North Countrie. I leave the drowsing south and in dreams I northward fly, And walk the stretching moors that fringe the ever-calling sea; And am gladdened as the gales that are so bitter-sweet go by, While grey clouds sweetly darken o'er my North Countrie. For there's music in the storms, and there's colour in the shades, And there's joy e'en in the sorrow widely brooding o'er the sea; And larger thoughts have birth among the moors and lowly glades And reedy mounds and sands of my North Countrie.II. You who know what easeful arms Silence winds about the dead, Or what far-swept music charms Hearts that were earth-wearied; You who know--if aught be known In that everlasting Hush Where the life-born years are strewn, Where the eyeless ages rush,-- Tell me, is it conscious rest Heals the whilom hurt of life? Or is Nirvana undistressed E'en by memory of strife?III. _Metempsychosis._ When Grief comes this way by With her wan lip and drooping eye, Bid her welcome, woo her boldly; Soon she'll look on thee less coldly. Her tears soon cease to flow. 'Tis now not Grief but Joy we know; From her smiling face the roses Tell the glad metempsychosis.IV. Life with the sun in it-- Shaded by gloom! Life with the fun in it-- Shadowed by Doom! Life with its Love ever haunted by Hate! Life's laughing morrows frowned over by Fate! Young Life's wild gladness still waylaid by Age! All its sweet badness still mocking the sage! What can e'er measure the joy of its strife? What boundless leisure Count the heaped treasure Of woe, that's the pleasure And beauty of Life?