Стихи и рассказы в категории Philosophy. Читать онлайн

I was born in the right time, in whole,
Only this time is one that is blessed,
But great God did not let my poor
Live without deceit on this earth.

I
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death

Others taught me with having knelt at well-curbs Always wrong to the light, so never seeing Deeper down in the well than where the water Gives me back in a shining surface picture Me myself in the summer heaven godlike Looking out of a wreath of…

1
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

OW she lies, who blest our eyes
Through many a sunny day;
She may not smile, she will not rise--
The life hath past away!

I.
IT is the music of her native land,-- The airs she used to love in happier days;
The lute is struck by some young gentle hand,
To soothe her spirit with remember'd lays.

THE FLESH
"Sweet, thou art pale."
"More pale to see

Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it——

Adieu
Bonjour
Farewell
Hello

EY loved one another! young Edward and his wife,
And in their cottage-home they dwelt, apart from sin and strife.
Each evening Edward weary came from a day of honest toil,
And Mary made the fire blaze, and smiled a cheerful smile.

Oh,
Twilight!
Spirit that dost render
To dim enchantments; melting heaven with earth

Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

There are some hours when I seem so indifferent; all things
To an indifferent greyness, like that grey of the sky;
Always at evening-ends, on grey days; and I know not why,
But life, and art, and love, and death, are the shade of a…

ТАЙНА ДИАЛЕКТИЧЕСКОЙ СВЯЗИ МЕЖДУ БАХОМ И БЕТХОВЕНОМ
Музыка как искусство времени представляет собой глубочайшее поле, где сознание встречается с вселенной в её изначальном онтологическом измерении, в её неинтерпретируемой форме. В этом…

O ME!
O life!… of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill'd with the
foolish;

The fire and the page, the hewed hairs and the swords,
The grains and the millstone, the whispers and the clatter -- God saves all that -- especially the words Of love and pity, as His only way to utter.
The harsh pulse pounds and the…

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,

'You!
What d'you mean by this?' I rapped.'You dare come on parade like this?''Please, sir, it's-' ''Old yer mouth,' the sergeant snapped.'I takes 'is name, sir?'-'Please, and then dismiss.'Some days 'confined to camp' he got,
For being…

Many a flower have I seen blossom,
Many a bird for me will sing.
Never heard I so sweet a singer,
Never saw I so fair a thing.

Sorrow like a ceaseless rain
Beats upon my heart. People twist and scream in pain, — Dawn will find them still again; This has neither wax nor wane,
Neither stop nor start.
People dress and go to town;

The deer is humble, lovely as God made her I watch her eyes and think of wonder owned These strange priests enter the cathedral of woods And seven Marys clean their hands to woo her Foot lifted, dagger-sharp—her ears Poised to their points like a…