Friday, July 12, 2013

Cogitations

l. René Descartes, 1637:

I think, therefore I am.


2. Joyce Kilmer, 1913:

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.


3. The Little Engine That Could, 1930:

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I--think--I--can, I--think--I--can, I---think---I---can, I----think----I----can, I thought I could, I thought I could, I thought I could, I thought I could.


4. Jemima Luke, 1841:

I think, when I read that sweet story of old,
When Jesus was here among men,
How He called little children as lambs to His fold,
I should like to have been with them then.

I wish that His hands had been placed on my head,
That His arms had been thrown around me,
And that I might have seen His kind look when He said,
“Let the little ones come unto Me.”

Yet still to His foot stool in prayer I may go;
And ask for a share in His love;
And if I thus earnestly seek Him below,
I shall see Him and hear Him above.

But thousands and thousands who wander and fall,
Never heard of that heavenly home;
I wish they could know there is room for them all,
And that Jesus has bid them to come.

In that beautiful place He has gone to prepare
For all who are washed and forgiven;
And many dear children shall be with Him there,
For “of such is the kingdom of heaven.”

I long for the joy of that glorious time,
The sweetest and brightest and best,
When the dear little children of every clime
Shall crowd to His arms and be blest.


5. Rhymeswithplague, 2013:

I think if I ever decide to stop blogging I would not announce it in advance like Katherine de Chevalle did. I would probably show you a poem, perhaps this one:

The Day is Done
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 - 1882)


The day is done, and the darkness
....Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
....From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
....Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me
....That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,
....That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
....As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
....Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
....And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
....Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
....Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,
....Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor;
....And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
....Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
....Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,
....And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
....Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet
....The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
....That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
....The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
....The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music,
....And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
....And as silently steal away.

...and then I would simply stop posting. Silently steal away, as it were. I do wonder sometimes, though, how long it would take anyone to notice.

10 comments:

Carol in Cairns said...

Sir RWP, I think the same thing. I haven't blogged for a week and I wonder if anyone has noticed. I hate seeing blogs that have not being updated for over a year. I wonder what has happened to those people, or what happened in their lives. But they are all people I don't know, so can't ask. I do hope that because you have posted the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, that this wasn't your last post.

All Consuming said...

The Longfellow has produced a tear or two from me here. It's beautiful and sad, and I'm sure a huge crowd of people would notice straight of were you to fly away from this blogger land of ours. I like the tree poem too, it's apt as I've just posted a picture of some trees that took a while ago and saying how much I love them. You're on the side of my blog now, reached the heady heights of stardom there, and I'm sure you're thrilled by the news hahaha. Although I don't think we agree on some things, I find your blog and you interesting stuff. I collect interesting people you know, but as is the nature of such a collection in this world, it is quite a small gathering. *smiles. Thank you for the poems and other words. ps - I'm stealing the tree one.

rhymeswithplague said...

Thank you both, Carol in Cairns and All Consuming, for commenting today.

No, I'm not leaving, Carol, at least I don't think I am. One never knows, really, but one tries to be ready.

Yes, you may have the poem, All Consuming, take it by all means, as it is not really mine to keep since it has been in the public domain for some time, so you needn't consider yourself a thief. Joyce Kilmer and his heirs, if any, thank you as well and wonder what took you so long. You must be very, very young. In my day we had to memorize this poem and stand up in front of the whole class and recite it.



Hilltophomesteader said...

I check your blog every morning with my coffee to see what you & Ellie are up to each day. I would most definitely miss you & your witty sense of humor - and I've only 'known' you for a short time! I do so hope you don't 'steal away' any time soon. I might have to write a very, very sad poem myself.

Yorkshire Pudding said...

My Darling Bob,
I especially enjoyed Joyce Kilmer's simple poem. And may I say that I would notice very quickly if you had reached the end of your blogging journey!....Looking forward to reading your blogposts about the year long run up to the Peachtree Race next July. Have you bought new running shoes yet?
Yours sincerely,
Y,Pudding xxxx

rhymeswithplague said...

Hilltopetc., even though I've "known" you for only a short time as well, it is difficult to picture you sitting there quietly with your morning coffee, reading my blog. My picture of you is that you bound out of your bed each day to get to the canning, goat milking, craft-making, tomato-planting, sewing machine repairing, and so forth as soon as possible. Nice to hear you are (somewhat) normal. I'm not planning to steal away any time soon, but see my comment to Carol above.

richies said...

Your title made me think of my uncle who passed away a few years ago. He never "thought" about things, he always cogitated.

An Arkies Musings

rhymeswithplague said...

Yorkshire Pudding, as it would be rude of me to ignore your comment, I suppose I must write a few words. I am not your darling (but you knew that) and no, I have not bought new running shoes yet. Don't hold your breath until I do.

richies, one never knows the effect one's posts may have on those who read them, does one? I'm happy that the title of my post made you think of your uncle. Now I am thinking of mine.

Snowbrush said...

If I stop, I too will probably just stop, but I don't plan to stop. You?

Snowbrush said...

I see where you answered my question, so you don't need to answer it again.