And Death Shall Have No Dominion.   
                                                               Dead Men Naked They shall Be One
                                                With the Men In the Wind and The west Moon;
                                When Their Bones are Picked Clean And The Clean Bones Gone,
                                              They Shall Have Stars At Elbow And Foot;
                                              Though They Go Mad They Shall Be Sane,
                                 Though They Sink Through The Sea They Shall Rise Again;
                                              Though Lovers Be Lost Love Shall Not;
                                                And Death Shall Have No Dominion.
                                                 And Death Shall Have No Dominion.
                                                   Under The Windings Of The Sea
                                                They Lying Long Shall Not Die Windily;
                                              Twisting On Racks When Sinews Give Way,
                                           Strapped To a Wheel,Yet They Shall Not Break;
                                                Faith In Their Hands Shall Snap In Two,
                                              And The Unicorm Evils Run Them Through;
                                                 Spilnt All Ends Up They Shan't Crack;
                                                  And Death Shall Have No Dominion.
                                                  And Death Shall Have No Dominion.
                                                    No More May Gulls At Their Ears
                                                   Or Waves Loud On The Seashores;
                                             Where Blew A Flower May A Flower No More
                                                Lift Its Head To The Blows Of The Rain;
                                                Though They Be Mad And Dead As Nails,
                                       Heads Of The Characters Hammer Through Daisies;
                                             Break In The Sun Till The Sun Breaks Down,
                                                  And Death Shall Have No Dominion.
                                   (~Dylan Thomas~And Death Shall Have No Dominion) 

                                                        I Have Been One Acquainted With The Night.

                                              I Have Walked Out In Rain-And Back In Rain.
                                               Have Out Walked The Furthet City Light.
                                             I Have Looked Down The Saddest City Lane.
                                            I Have Passed By The watchman On His Beat
                                              And Dropped My Eyes,Unwilling To Explain.
                                      I Have Stood Still And Stopped The Sound Of Feet.
                                                  When Far Away An Interrupted Cry
                                              Came Over Houses From Another Street,
                                              But Not Call Me Back Or Say Good-bye;
                                            And Further Still At An Unearthly Height,
                                               One Luminary Clock Against The Sky
                                    Proclaimed The Time Was Neither Wrong Nor Right
                                        I Have Been One Acquainted With The Night.
                                        (~Robert Frost~Acquainted With The Night)
                   And As The Morning Mists Had Risen Long Ago When I First Left The Forege,
                                           So The Evening Mists Were Rising Now,
                          And In All The Broad Expanse Of Tranquil Light They Showed To Me,
                                     I Saw No Shadow Of Another Parting From Her.
                                           (~Charles Dickens~Great Expectation)
                                             She walks in beauty, like the night

                                            Of cloudless climes and starry skies; 
                                            And all that 's best of dark and bright 
                                              Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
                                             Thus mellow'd to that tender light
                                            Which heaven to gaudy day denies. 
                                          One shade the more, one ray the less, 
                                          Had half impair'd the nameless grace 
                                            Which waves in every raven tress,
                                              Or softly lightens o'er her face; 
                                        Where thoughts serenely sweet express 
                                        How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
                                         And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
                                             So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
                                       The smiles that win, the tints that glow, 
                                           But tell of days in goodness spent, 
                                             A mind at peace with all below,
                                             A heart whose love is innocent!

                                                           ~Lord Byron~
  Dragons will wander around the waste places, and the phoenix will soar from her nest of fire into the air.
                       We shall lay our hands upon the basilisk, and see the jewel in the toad's head.
 Champing his gilded oats, the Hippogriff will stand in our stalls, and over our heads will float the Blue Bird
 singing of beautiful and impossible things,of things that are lovely and that never happen,
                                           of things that are not and that should be.

                                                        ~Oscar Wilde~
  Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not love which alters when it
 alterations finds,or bends with the remover to remove: O no! It is an ever-fixed mark, that looks on
    tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown,
 although his height be taken.  Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending
 sickle's compass come; Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the
         edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved. I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

                                                    ~William Shakespeare~

           Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, A six years' Darling of a pigmy size! See,
       where 'mid work of his own hand he lies,Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses, With light
       upon him from his father's eyes! See, at his feet, some little plan or chart,Some fragment
 from his dream of human life, Shaped by himself with newly-learned art; A wedding or a festival,
       A mourning or a funeral; And this hath now his heart, And unto this he frames his song:
                                                 Then will he fit his tongue.

                                                   ~William Wordsworth~

                  For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
                                              A time to be born, and a time to die;
                                a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
                                               A time to kill, and a time to heal;
                                      a time to break down, and a time to build up;
                                             A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
                                           a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

                                                     ~Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8~

      What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight,
       Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
        We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind; In the primal sympathy
    Which having been must ever be; In the soothing thoughts that spring Out of human suffering;
             In the faith that looks through death, In years that bring the philosophic mind.
              And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, Forebode not any severing
    of our loves! Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might; I only have relinquished one delight
     To live beneath your more habitual sway. I love the Brooks which down their channels fret,
  Even more than when I tripped lightly as they; The innocent brightness of a new-born Day Is lovely yet;
          The Clouds that gather round the setting sun Do take a sober colouring from an eye
     That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;Another race hath been, and other palms are won.
      Thanks to the human heart by which we live, Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,
     To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.

                                                   ~William Wordsworth~
       How shall we be able to forget those ancient myths that are the beginning of all peoples,
                   the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses;
 perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave.
     Perhaps verything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.
So you must not be frightened, if a sadness rises up before you larger than you have ever seen; if a restiveness,
                  like light and cloud-shadows, passes over your hands and over all you do.
      You must think that something is happening with you, that life has not forgotten you, that
                                    it holds you in its hands, it will not let you fall.

                                                   ~Rainer Maria Rilke~


                                    Surprised by joy - impatient as the Wind

                              I turned to share the transport - Oh! with whom

                                    But thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,

                                     That spot which no vicissitude an find?

                                  Love, faitful love, recalled thee to my mind -

                              But how could I forget thee? Through what power,

                                       Even for the least division of an hour,

                                      Have I been so begulled as to be blind

                             To my most grievous loss! - That thought's return

                                  Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,

                                    save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,

                                Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;

                                  That neither present time, nor years unborn

                                 Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

                                  (William Wordsworth - Surprised by Joy)



                                               You darkness, that I come from,

                                  I love you more than all the fires

                                         that fence in the world,

                                             for the fire makes

                                     a circle of light for everyone,

                               And then no one outside learns of you.

                                 But the darkness pulls in everything:

                                shapes and fires, animals and myself,

                                         how easily it gathers them! -

                                               powers and people -


                                  and it is possible a great energy

                                              is moving near me.

                                             I have faith in nights.

                                   (Rainier Maria Rilke - You Darkness)




                                            I met a traveler from an antique land,

                                      Who said - two vaqt and trunkless legs of stone

                                      Stand in the desert ... Near them, on the sand,

                                      Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

                                      And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

                                       Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

                                   Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

                                  The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

                                         And on the pedestal, these words appear:

                                          My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,

                                       Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!

                                        Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

                                       Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare

                                       The lone and level sands stretch far away.

                                                (Percy Bysshe - Ozymandias)