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Stars – Poem of Gratitude by Sara Teasdale

Stars

by Sara Teasdale

  Alone in the night

   On a dark hill

  With pines around me

   Spicy and still,

  And a heaven full of stars

   Over my head,

  White and topaz

   And misty red;

  Myriads with beating

   Hearts of fire

  That aeons

   Cannot vex or tire;

  Up the dome of heaven

   Like a great hill,

  I watch them marching

   Stately and still,

  And I know that I

   Am honored to be

  Witness

   Of so much majesty.

Today’s Quote on Joy by Tagore

And joy is everywhere; it is in the earth’s green covering of grass; in the blue serenity of the sky.

Rabindranath Tagore

“The Stars Are Mansions Built by Nature’s Hand” Poem by William Wordsworth

The Stars Are Mansions Built by Nature’s Hand

THE stars are mansions built by Nature’s hand,

And, haply, there the spirits of the blest

Dwell, clothed in radiance, their immortal vest;

Huge Ocean shows, within his yellow strand,

A habitation marvelously planned,

For life to occupy in love and rest;

All that we see–is dome, or vault, or nest,

Or fortress, reared at Nature’s sage command.

Glad thought for every season! but the Spring

Gave it while cares were weighing on my heart, 

‘Mid song of birds, and insects murmuring;

And while the youthful year’s prolific art–

Of bud, leaf, blade, and flower–was fashioning

Abodes where self-disturbance hath no part.

 

“A Thing of Beauty” Poem by John Keats

A Thing of Beauty

by John Keats

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkn’d ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
‘Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.

“The Stars Are Mansions Built by Nature’s Hand,” Poem by Wordsworth

The Stars Are Mansions Built by Nature’s Hand

By William Wordsworth

THE stars are mansions built by Nature’s hand,
And, haply, there the spirits of the blest
Dwell, clothed in radiance, their immortal vest;
Huge Ocean shows, within his yellow strand,
A habitation marvellously planned,
For life to occupy in love and rest;
All that we see–is dome, or vault, or nest,
Or fortress, reared at Nature’s sage command.
Glad thought for every season! but the Spring
Gave it while cares were weighing on my heart,
‘Mid song of birds, and insects murmuring;
And while the youthful year’s prolific art–
Of bud, leaf, blade, and flower–was fashioning
Abodes where self-disturbance hath no part.

“To Nature” Poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

To Nature

It may indeed be phantasy, when I
Essay to draw from all created things
Deep, heartfelt, inward joy that closely clings ;
And trace in leaves and flowers that round me lie
Lessons of love and earnest piety.
So let it be ; and if the wide world rings
In mock of this belief, it brings
Nor fear, nor grief, nor vain perplexity.
So will I build my altar in the fields,
And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,
And the sweet fragrance that the wild flower yields
Shall be the incense I will yield to Thee,
Thee only God ! and thou shalt not despise
Even me, the priest of this poor sacrifice