On Saturday, I sleep in late; the sandman sets a silver-plate to lie around and contemplate and let my 'soles' somnambulate. Unloading heaps of heavy freight supports me to fly featherweight and putz around, remodulate, I clean erase the scorecard slate. As restful day, the seventh date a holy way to consecrate, my person brews, then percolates, the sabbath pours a cup.... and waits
On changeable Earth human beings are wise, They want to perpetuate the progress in rise. Some vie in earning wealth to live happily, Attractive edifices they build to reside properly. To lead a prosperous life some are on keen, To live peacefully they try hard and do gin. Some are on moonshine and they visualize peace, They visualize peace by wealth, pedantry and dish. Do persons indeed get peace from wealth? Or do they avail eternal happiness or mental health? Peace can't be obtained where there is vexation, Nor it can be acquired in fuss and transgression. Perplexity and agitation don't bring peace, Wealth can bring transient happiness and bliss. Eternal peace we can acquire through noble work, Truthfulness, nonviolence can remove anxiety-murk. We can acquire eternal peace through meditation, Value in life can save persons from damnation. Love, purity, charity, truthfulness, believe in God, These help a person to acquire eternal peace-bud.
I sat with chill December Beside the evening fire. "And what do you remember," I ventured to inquire, "Of seasons long forsaken?" He answered in amaze, "My age you have mistaken; I've lived but thirty days."
As human life begins and ends with woe, So doth the year with darkness and with storm. Mute is each sound, and vanish'd each fair form That wont to cheer us; yet a sacred glow— A moral beauty,—to which Autumn's show, Or Spring's sweet blandishments, or Summer's bloom, Are but vain pageants,—mitigate the gloom, What time December's angry tempests blow. 'Twas when the "Earth had doff'd her gaudy trim, As if in awe," that she received her Lord; And angels jubilant attuned the hymn Which the church echoes still in sweet accord, And ever shall, while Time his course doth fill, 'Glory to God on high! on earth, peace and good will!'
Ruthless winter's rude career Comes to close the parting year; Fleecy flakes of snow descend, Boreal winds the welkin rend. Reflect, oh man! and well remember That dull old age is dark December; For soon the year of life is gone, When hoary hairs like snow come on.
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