If Only In Dreams
...by Iain MacAnTsaoir

In restless dreams fog filled and far away, ay whistle a soft
sweet tune;
As do ay when meandering in the wakeful day, ay mimicking a wee
lake loon;
Callin out for peace when ay stand and lay, ay always hoping to
see ye soon.
For wha did the Heelander but he did play, "would come ye ore tha
moon?"
Tru in meetin any place ye would but say, a whistling ye a gentle
tune;
Ay sure ye wuld court o thas very day, a song oh so sweet ay'd
croon.
Look ye softly your face alit in a ray, like of the sun up high
at noon;
Ay vow and protest with the words I say, my friends deep carren
yer boon;
An at night while a walkin with the Fae, callin ye with a
whistled tune.

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SELF-DEPENDENCE
...MATTHEW ARNOLD(1822-1888)

Weary of myself, and sick of asking
What I am, and what I ought to be,
At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me
Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.

And a look of passionate desire
O'er the sea and to the stars I send:
"Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me,
Calm me, ah, compose me to the end!

"Ah, once more," I cried, "ye stars, ye waters,
On my heart your mighty charm renew;
Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you,
Feel my soul becoming vast like you!"

From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven,
Over the lit sea's unquiet way,
In the rustling night-air came the answer:
"Wouldst thou be as these are? Live as they.

"Unaffrighted by the silence round them,
Undistracted by the sights they see,
These demand not that the things without them
Yield them love, amusement, sympathy.

"And with joy the stars perform their shining,
And the sea its long moon-silver'd roll;
For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting
All the fever of some differing soul.

"Bounded by themselves, and unregardful
In what state God's other works may be,
In their own tasks all their powers pouring,
These attain the mighty life you see."

O air-born voice! long since, severely clear,
A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear:
"Resolve to be thyself; and know that he,
Who finds himself, loses his misery!"

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MY MIND TO ME A KINGDOM IS
...SIR EDWARD DYER (1543-1607)

My mind to me a kingdom is;
Such perfect joy therein I find
That it excels all other bliss
Which God or nature hath assign'd.
Though much I want that most would have,
Yet still my mind forbids to crave.

No princely port, nor wealthy store,
No force to win a victory,
No wily wit to salve a sore,
No shape to win a loving eye;
To none of these I yield as thrall,--
For why? my mind despise them all.

I see that plenty surfeit oft,
And hasty climbers soonest fall;
I see that such as are aloft
Mishap doth threaten most of all.
These get with toil and keep with fear;
Such cares my mind can never bear.

I press to bear no haughty sway,
I wish no more than may suffice,
I do no more than well I may,
Look, what I want my mind supplies.
Lo ! thus I triumph like a king,
My mind content with anything.

I laugh not at another's loss,
Nor grudge not at another's gain;
No worldly waves my mind can toss;
I brook that is another's bane.
I fear no foe, nor fawn on friend,
I loathe not life, nor dread mine end.

My wealth is health and perfect ease,
And conscience clear my chief defence;
I never seek by bribes to please,
Nor by desert to give offence.
Thus do I live, thus will I die,--
Would all did so as well as I!

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PEACE
...HENRY VAUGHAN (1622?-1695)

My Soul, there is a country
Afar beyond the stars,
Where stands a winged sentry
All skillful in the wars;
There, above noise and danger
Sweet Peace sits, crown'd with smiles,
And One born in a manger
Commands the beauteous files.
He is thy gracious friend
And (O my Soul awake!)
Did in pure love descend,
To die here for thy sake.
If thou canst get but thither,
There grows the flow'r of peace,
The rose that cannot wither,
Thy fortress, and thy ease.
Leave then thy foolish ranges,
For none can thee secure,
But One, who never changes,
Thy God, thy life, thy cure.

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This Is Why

For in a world that hides its shame,
in the masquerade of personal drama,
what can God but do
than to do what his people have done against each other.
So, when you ask why things have gone wrong,
please turn and open the eye of the mass population.
Then you will see what the proper answer is.
While others of the same blood that makes us human
wonder why a God would let them be born in such a place,
of poverty, disease, and filthy surroundings,
right in the back yard of the promised land, America.
But God is merciful.
To those who are aware of these bad tidings,
of the children who suffer as a birthright.
We have been made aware of the solution.
But will they look at us and wonder what we are?
Will they call us the puppets of the beast,
when the only message we give is that of peace?
Who then is the enemy?
The ones that fight over interpretation,
of a Book, that was made for salvation?
Who is really the enemy, while they are caught up in smut,
and other subjects of senseless morals.
We fight for life, for we know the reason,
and we have the answer.
Rise up, and do only one thing,
before we watch God allow us our own burial.
Say yes to the real revelation that can set us all free.
Then no longer will we wonder if there is truly a God.
For in this place that we call paradise,
where the water blue as the sky above,
where the green flows not from tokens of false gold,
but from the lifeblood of God’s creation.
We may call it a bank, but truly, it is Life.
A reserve with no walls, made of energy.
Gold in this land can be used for roads, for all we care.
Now every cognitive human being
will be fed, have water, and no longer beg
to breathe the air, and bask in the day.
This is why we fight, and we will never stop,
until every child born unto this world
is truly free of the slavery of coins and stained paper,
and then raises his and her arms happily thanking
a God that is glorious, and true to life.

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If
...By Rudyard Kipling(1865-1936)

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself When all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream and not make dreams your master;
If you can think and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it.

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A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM
...EDGAR ALLAN POE(1809-1849)

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

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SPEAK GENTLY
...DAVID BATES(1809-1870)

Speak gently! -- It is better far
To rule by love, than fear --
Speak gently -- let not harsh words mar
The good we might do here!
Speak gently! -- Love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind;
And gently Friendship's accents flow;
Affection's voice is kind.
Speak gently to the little child!
Its love be sure to gain;
Teach it in accents soft and mild: --
It may not long remain.
Speak gently to the young, for they
Will have enough to bear --
Pass through this life as best they may,
'T is full of anxious care!
Speak gently to the aged one,
Grieve not the care-worn heart;
The sands of life are nearly run,
Let such in peace depart!
Speak gently, kindly, to the poor;
Let no harsh tone be heard;
They have enough they must endure,
Without an unkind word!
Speak gently to the erring -- know,
They may have toiled in vain;
Perchance unkindness made them so;
Oh, win them back again!
Speak gently! -- He who gave his life
To bend man's stubborn will,
When elements were in fierce strife,
Said to them, "Peace, be still."
Speak gently! -- 't is a little thing
Dropped in the heart's deep well;
The good, the joy, which it may bring,
Eternity shall tell.

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I DREAME'D IN A DREAM
...WALT WHITMAN(1819-1892)

I DREAM'D in a dream, I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the
whole of the rest of the earth;
I dream'd that was the new City of Friends;
Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love--it
led the rest;
It was seen every hour in the actions of the men
of that city,
And in all their looks and words.

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World Peace
...by Andrea Hill

Mystifying beauty
Captivating dreams
Never-ending rainbows
A world so full of dreams

These are misled thoughts
Our world is not like this
Hate has scoured our minds
Hate will cause our deaths

Looking to the future
Right now seems very bleak
War is now an issue
Peace is for the meek

Ignorance of man
To look beyond ones faults
Has caused a misconception
Of others like ourselves

A join of hand and heart and will
Would put and end to this
The same value placed on others
Like we place upon ourselves
Would end the hate and violence
That’s tearing out our hearts

When this is done
Our world’s complete
The pain and hardship gone
And once again, just like before
Peace will lead us on

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PSALM 23

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

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THE DREAMERS~
...Herbert Kaufman

They are the architects of greatness. Their vision lies within
their souls. They never see the mirages of Fact, but peer beyond
the veils and mists of doubt and pierce the walls of unborn Time.

Makers of empire, they have fought for bigger things than crowns
and higher seats than thrones.

They are the Argonauts, the seekers of the priceless fleece~the
Truth.

Through all the ages they have heard the voice of destiny call to
them from the unknown vasts.

Their brains have wrought all human miracles. In lace of stone
their spires stab the Old World's skies and with their golden
crosses kiss the sun.

They are a chosen few~blazers of the way~who never wear doubt's
bandage on their eyes~who starve and chill and hurt, but hold to
courage and to hope, because they know that there is always
proof of truth for them who try~that only cowardice and lack of
faith can keep the seeker from his chosen goal, but if his heart
be strong and if he dream enough and dream it hard enough, he can
attain, no matter where men failed before.

Walls crumble and the empires fall. The tidal wave sweeps from the
sea and tears a fortress from its rocks. The rotting nations drop
from off Time's bough, and only things the dreamers make live on.

They are the Eternal Conquerors~their vassals are the years.

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STAGNANT TRUTH
...J. E. Dinger

Do not mistake acquirement of mere knowledge for power. Like food, these things must be digested and assimilated to become life or force. Learning is not wisdom; knowledge is not necessarily vital energy. The student who has to cram through a school or a college course, who has made himself merely a receptacle for the teacher's thoughts and ideas, is not educated; he has not gained much. He is a reservior, not a fountain. One retains, the other gives forth. Unless his knowledge is converted into wisdom, into faculty, it will become stagnant like still water.

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ALTERNATIVES
...Benjamin Franklin

There are two ways of being happy; we may either diminish our wants or augment our means. Either will do, the result is the same. And it is for each man to decide for himself, and do that which happens to be the easiest. If you are idle or sick or poor, however hard it may be for you to diminish your wants, it will be harder to augment your means. If you are active and prosperous or young or in good health, it may be easier for you to augment your means than to diminish your wants. But if you are wise, you will do both at the same time, young or old, rich or poor, sick or well. And if you are very wise, you will do both in such a way as to augment the general happiness of society.

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