Archive for December, 2007


There was a time, I need not name,
Since it will ne’er forgotten be,
When all our feelings were the same
As still my soul hath been to thee.

And from that hour when first thy tongue
Confess’d a love which equall’d mine,
Though many a grief my heart hath wrung,
Unknown and thus unfelt by thine,

None, none hath sunk so deep as this-
To think how all that love hath flown;
Transient as every faithless kiss,
But transient in thy breast alone.

And yet my heart some solace knew,
When late I heard thy lips declare,
In accents once imagined true,
Remembrance of the days that were.

Yes; my adored, yet most unkind!
Though thou wilt never love again,
To me ‘t is doubly sweet to find
Remembrance of that love remain.

Yes; ‘t is a glorious thought to me,
Nor longer shall my soul repine,
Whate’er thou art or e’er shalt be,
Thou hast been dearly, solely mine.

Lord Byron


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how much longer

I have a book of insight.  It’s comforting to read, particularly at times of indecision  Sometimes, like this morning,  I’ll have a particular question on my mind and out of curiousity I check to see if my answer can be found within the pages of this book.  This morning I let my thumb graze over the pages while my eyes were closed. After a few moments, I settled on one that felt right.  Of the 300 or so pages in this book, the one I chose was the only one with a cut corner.  The funny thing is that I don’t search from the corners.  This passage wanted to be read… and I needed to read it.  Maybe others do too.

How much longer will you go on
letting your energy sleep?

How much longer are you going
to stay oblivious of the immensity
of yourself?

Don’t lose time in conflict;
lose no time in doubt –
time can never be recovered
and if you miss an opportunity
it may take many lives
before another comes
your way again.

– Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh
   A Cup of Tea

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So we’ll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart still be as loving,
And the moon still be as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul outwears the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we’ll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.

Lord Byron (1788-1824)

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For Alexito.

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of th purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.

The shepherds’ swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
Christopher Marlowe

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“I love thee to the level of everyday’s most quiet need,by sun and candle light…I love thee with the breath,smiles,tears,of all my life.”
– Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806 – 1861)

The letters between Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning are among the most beautiful of my collection.  She married him at 40 and passed away only 15 years later.  We never have enough time to show our love.

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“How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being.”
– Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

This comment runs deep. Some women are fine with being ordinary. Perhaps they are naive. Perhaps they don’t know any better. Is this normal? If so, I pity their generic lives.

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easier said…

“A man who is master of himself can end a sorrow as easily as he can invent a pleasure. I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.”
– Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

There are those in my life that possess this very valuable ability. I admire them.

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