Destiny Poems - Poems For Destiny

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In this page, poem about destiny are listed.

  • 25.
    La Solitude de St. Amant /La Solitude A Alcidon /

    O! Solitude, my sweetest choice
    Places devoted to the night,
    Remote from tumult, and from noise,
    How you my restless thoughts delight!
    O Heavens! what content is mine,
    To see those trees which have appear'd
    From the nativity of Time,
    And which hall ages have rever'd,
    To look to-day as fresh and green,
     As when their beauties first were seen!

    A cheerful wind does court them so,
    And with such amorous breath enfold,
    That we by nothing else can know,
    But by their hieght that they are old.
    Hither the demi-gods did fly
    To seek the sanctuary, when
    Displeased Jove once pierc'd the sky,
    To pour a deluge upon men,
    And on these boughs themselves did save,
    When they could hardly see a wave.

    Sad Philomel upon this thorn,
    So curiously by Flora dress'd,
    In melting notes, her case forlorn,
    To entertain me, hath confess'd.
    O! how agreeable a sight
    These hanging mountains do appear,
    Which the unhappy would invite
    To finish all their sorrows here,
    When their hard fate makes them endure
    Such woes, as only death can cure.

    What pretty desolations make
    These torrents vagabond and fierce,
    Who in vast leaps their springs forsake,
    This solitary Vale to pierce.
    Then sliding just as serpents do
    Under the foot of every tree,
    Themselves are changed to rivers too,
    Wherein some stately Nayade,
    As in her native bed, is grown
    A queen upon a crystal throne.

    This fen beset with river-plants,
    O! how it does my sense charm!
    Nor elders, reeds, nor willows want,
    Which the sharp steel did never harm.
    Here Nymphs which come to take the air,
    May with such distaffs furnish'd be,
    As flags and rushes can prepare,
    Where we the nimble frogs may see,
    Who frighted to retreat do fly
    If an approaching man they spy.

    Here water-flowl repose enjoy,
    Without the interrupting care,
    Lest Fortune should their bliss destroy
    By the malicious fowler's snare.
    Some ravish'd with so bright a day,
    Their feathers finely prune and deck;
    Others their amorous heats allay,
    Which yet the waters could not check:
    All take their innocent content
    In this their lovely element.

    Summer's, nor Winter's bold approach,
    This stream did never entertain;
    Nor ever felt a boat or coach,
    Whilst either season did remain.
    No thirsty traveller came near,
    And rudely made his hand his cup;
    Nor any hunted hind hath here
    Her hopeless life resigned up;
    Nor ever did the treacherous hook
    Intrude to empty any brook.

    What beauty is there in the sight
    Of these old ruin'd castle-walls
    Of which the utmost rage and spight
    Of Time's worst insurrection falls?
    The witches keep their Sabbath here,
    And wanton devils make retreat.
    Who in malicious sport appear,
    Our sense both to afflict and cheat;
    And here within a thousand holes
    Are nest of adders and of owls.

    The raven with his dismal cries,
    That mortal augury of Fate,
    Those ghastly goblins ratifies,
    Which in these gloomy places wait.
    On a curs'd tree the wind does move
    A carcase which did once belong
    To one that hang'd himself for love
    Of a fair Nymph that did him wrong,
    Who thought she saw his love and truth,
    With one look would not save the youth.

    But Heaven which judges equally,
    And its own laws will still maintain,
    Rewarded soon her cruelty
    With a deserv'd and mighty pain:
    About this squalid heap of bones,
    Her wand'ring and condemned shade,
    Laments in long and piercing groans
    The destiny her rigour made,
    And the more to augment her right,
    Her crime is ever in her sight.

    There upon antique marbles trac'd,
    Devices of past times we see,
    Here age ath almost quite defac'd,
    What lovers carv'd on every tree.
    The cellar, here, the highest room
    Receives when its old rafters fail,
    Soil'd with the venom and the foam
    Of the spider and the snail:
    And th'ivy in the chimney we
    Find shaded by a walnut tree.

    Below there does a cave extend,
    Wherein there is so dark a grot,
    That should the Sun himself descend,
    I think he could not see a jot.
    Here sleep within a heavy lid
    In quiet sadness locks up sense,
    And every care he does forbid,
    Whilst in arms of negligence,
    Lazily on his back he's spread,
    And sheaves of poppy are his bed.

    Within this cool and hollow cave,
    Where Love itself might turn to ice,
    Poor Echo ceases not to rave
    On her Narcissus wild and nice:
    Hither I softly steal a thought,
    And by the softer music made
    With a sweet lute in charms well taught,
    Sometimes I flatter her sad shade,
    Whilst of my chords I make such choice,
    They serve as body to her voice.

    When from these ruins I retire,
    This horrid rock I do invade,
    Whose lofty brow seems to inquire
    Of what materials mists are made:
    From thence descending leisurely
    Under the brow of this steep hill
    It with great pleasure I descry
    By waters undermin'd, until
    They to Palaemon's seat did climb,
    Compos'd of sponges and of slime.

    How highly is the fancy pleas'd
    To be upon the Ocean's shore,
    When she begins to be appeas'd
    And her fierce billows cease to roar!
    And when the hairy Tritons are
    Riding upon the shaken wave,
    With what strange sounds they strike the air
    Of their trumpets hoarse and brave,
    Whose shrill reports does every wind
    Unto his due submission bind!

    Sometimes the sea dispels the sand,
    Trembling and murmuring in the bay,
    And rolls itself upon the shells
    Which it both brings and takes away.
    Sometimes exposed on the strand,
    Th'effect of Neptune's rage and scorn,
    Drown'd men, dead monsters cast on land,
    And ships that were in tempests torn,
    With diamonds and ambergreece,
    And many more such things as these.

    Sometimes so sweetly she does smile,
    A floating mirror she might be,
    And you would fancy all that while
    New Heavens in her face to see:
    The Sun himself is drawn so well,
    When there he would his picture view,
    That our eye can hardly tell
    Which is the false Sun, which the true;
    And lest we give our sense the lie,
    We think he's fallen from the sky.

    Bernieres! for whose beloved sake
    My thoughts are at a noble strife,
    This my fantastic landskip take,
    Which I have copied from the life.
    I only seek the deserts rough,
    Where all alone I love to walk,
    And with discourse refin'd enough,
    My Genius and the Muses talk;
    But the converse most truly mine,
    Is the dear memory of thine.

    Thou mayst in this Poem find,
    So full of liberty and heat,
    What illustrious rays have shin'd
    To enlighten my conceit:
    Sometimes pensive, sometimes gay,
    Just as that fury does control,
    And as the object I survey
    The notions grow up in my soul,
    And are as unconcern'd and free
    As the flame which transported me.

    O! how I Solitude adore,
    That element of noblest wit,
    Where I have learnt Apollo's lore,
    Without the pains to study it:
    For thy sake I in love am grown
    With what thy fancy does pursue;
    But when I think upon my own,
    I hate it for that reason too.
    Because it needs must hinder me
    From seeing, and from serving thee.


    O que j'ayme la solitude!
    Que ces lieux sacrez à la nuit, Esloignez du monde e du bruit,
    Plaisent à mon inquietude!
    Mon Dieu! que mes yeux sont contens
    De voir ces bois, qui se trouverent
    A la nativité du temps,
    Et que tous les siècles everent,
    Estre encore aussi beaux et vers,
    Qu'aux premiers jours de l'univers!

    Un gay zephire les caresse
    D'un mouvement doux et flatteur.
    Rien que leur extresme hauteur
    Ne fait remarquer leur vieillesse.
    Jadis Pan et ses demi-dieux
    Y vinrent chercher du refuge,
    Quand Jupiter ouvrit les cieux
    Pour nous enoyer le deluge,
    Et, se sauvans sur leurs rameaux,
    A peine virent-ils les eaux.

    Que sur cette espine fleurie
    Dont le printemps est amoureux,
    Philomele, au chant langoureux,
    Entretient bein ma resverie!
    Que je prens de plaisir à voir
    Ces monts pendans en precipices,
    Qui, puor les coups du desespoir,
    Sont aux malheureux si propices,
    Quand la cruauté de leur sort,
    Les froce a rechercher la mort!

    Que je trouve doux le ravage
    De ces fiers torrens vagabonds,
    Que se precipitent par bonds
    Dans ce valon vert et sauvage!
    Puis, glissant sour les arbrisseaux,
    Ainsi que des serpens sur l'herbe,
    Se changent en plaisans ruisseaux,
    Où quelque Naïade superbe
    Regne comme en son lict natal,
    Dessus un throsne de christal!

    Que j'ayme ce marets paisible!
    Il est tout bordé d'aliziers,
    D'aulnes, de saules et d'oziers,
    Q qui le fer n'est point nuisible.
    Les nymphes, y cherchans le frais,
    S'y viennet fournir de quenouilles,
    De pipeaux, de joncs et de glais;
    Où l'on voit sauter les grenouilles,
    Qui de frayeur s'y vont cacher
    Si tost qu'on veut s'en approcher.

    Là, cent mille oyseaux aquatiques
     Vivent, sand craindre, en leur repos,
    Le giboyeur fin et dispos,
    Avec ses mortelles pratiques.
    L'un tout joyeux d'un si beau jour,
    S'amuse à becqueter sa plume;
    L'autre allentit le feu d'amour
    Qui dans l'eau mesme se consume,
    Et prennent tous innocemment
    Leur plaisir en cet élement.

    Jamais l'esté ny la froidure
    N'ont veu passer dessus cette eau
    Nulle charrette ny batteau,
    Depuis que l'un et l'autre dure;
    Jamais voyageur alteré
    N'y fit servir sa main de tasse;
    Jamais chevreuil desesperé
    N'y finit sa vie à la chasse;
    Et jamais le traistre hameçon
    N'en fit sortir aucun poisson.

    Que j'ayme à voir la décadence
    De ces vieux chasteaux ruinez,
    Contre qui les ans mutinez
    Ont deployé leur insolence!
    Les sorciers y font leur savat;
    Les demons follets y retirent,
    Qui d'un malicieux ébat
    Trompent nos sens et nous martirent;
    Là se nichent en mille troux
    Les couleuvres et les hyboux.

    L'orfraye, avec ses cris funebres,
    Mortels augures des testins,
    Fait rire et dancer les lutins
    Dans ces lieux remplis de tenebres.
    Sous un chevron de bois maudit
    Y branle le squelette horrible
    D'un pauvre amant qui se pendit
    Pour une bergère insensible,
    Qui d'un seul regard de pitié
    Ne daigna voir son amitié.

    Aussi le Ciel, juge équitable,
    Qui maintient les loix en vigueur,
    Prononça contre sa rigueur
    Une sentence epouvantable:
    Autour de ces vieux ossemens
    Son ombre, aux peines condamnée,
    Lamente en logs gemissemens
    Sa malheureuse destinée,
    Ayant, pour croistre son effroy,
    Tousjours son crime devant soy.

    Là se trouvent sur quelques marbres
    Des devises du temps passé;
    Icy l'âge a presque effacé
    Des chiffres taillex sur les arbres;
    Le plancher du lieu le plus haut
    Est tombé jusques dans la cave,
    Que la limace et le crapaud
    Souillent de venin et de bave;
    Le lierre y croist au foyer,
    A l'ombrage d'un grand noyer.

    Là dessous s'estend une voûte
    Si sombre en un certain endroit,
    Que, quand Phebus y descendroit,
    Je pense qu'il n'y verrroit goutte;
    Le Sommeil aux pesans sourcis,
    Enchanté d'un morne silence,
    Y dort, bien loing de tous soucis,
    Dans les bras de la Nonchalence,
    Laschement couché sur le dos
    Dessus des gerbes de pavots.

    Au creux de cette grotte fresche,
    Où l'Amour se pourroit geler,
    Echo ne cesse de brusler
    Pour son amant froid et revesche,
    Je m'y coule sans aire bruit,
    Et par la celeste harmonie
    D'un doux lut, aux charmes instruit,
    Je flatte sa triste manie
    Faisant, repeter mes accords
    A la voix qui luy sert de corps.

    Tantost, sortant de ces ruines,
    Je monte au haut de ce rocher,
    Dont le sommet semble chercher
    En quel lieu se font les bruïnes;
    Puis je descends tout à loisir,
    Sous une falaise escarpée,
    D'où je regarde avec plaisir
    L'onde qui l'a presque sappée
    Jusqu'au siege de Palemon,
    Fait d'esponges et de limon.

    Que c'est une chose agreable
    D'estre sur le borde de la mer,
    Quand elle vient à se calmer
    Après quelque orage effroyable!
    Et que les chevelus Tritons,
    Hauts, sur les vagues secouées,
    Frapent les airs d'estranges tons
    Avec leurs trompes enrouées,
    Dont l'eclat rend respectueux
    Les ventes les plus impetueux.

    Tantost l'onde brouillant l'arène,
    Murmure et fremit de courroux
    Se roullant dessus les cailloux
    Qu'elle apporte et qu'elle r'entraine.
    Tantost, elle estale en ses bords,
    Que l'ire de neptune outrage,
    Des gens noyex, des monstres morts,
    Des vaisseaux brisez du naufrage,
    Des diamans, de l'ambre gris,
    Et mille autres choses de pris.

    Tantost, la lus claire du monde,
    Elle semble un miroir flottant,
    Et nous represente à l'instant
    Encore d'autres cieux sous l'onde.
    Le soleil s'y fait si bien voir,
    Y contemplant son beau visage,
    Qu'on est quelque temps à savoir
    Si c'est loy-mesme, ou son image,
    Et d'abord il semble à nos yeux
    Qu'il s'est laissé tomber des cieux.

    Bernières, pour qui je me vante
    De ne rien faire que de beau,
    Reçoy ce fantasque tableau
    Fait d'une peinture vivante,
    Je ne cherche che les deserts,
    Où, resvant tout seul, je m'amuse
    A des discours assez diserts
    De mon genie avec la muse;
    Mais mon plus aymable entretien
    C'est le ressouvenir du tien.

    Tu vois dans cette poesie
    Pleine de licence et d'ardeur
    Les beaux rayons de la splendeur
    Qui m'esclaire la fantaisie:
    Tantost chagrin, tantost joyeux
    Selon que la futeur m'enflame,
    Et que l'objet s'offre à mes yeux,
    Les propose me naissent en l'ame,
    Sans contraindre la liberté
    Du demon qui m'a transporté.

    O que j'ayme la solitude!
    C'est l'element des cons esprits,
    C'est par elle que j'ay compris
    L'art d'Apollon sans nulle estude.
    Je l'ayme pour l'amour de toy,
    Connaissant que ton humeur l'ayme
    Mais quand je pense bien à moy,
    Je la hay pour la rasion mesme
    Car elle pourroit me ravir
    L'heur de te voir et te servir. read more »

  • 26.
    Trust in God

    Deep trust in God—for that I still have sought
    Through all the grim doubts that bemock the soul,
    When in the amazement of far-reaching throught,
    We list the labourings that for ever roll read more »

  • 27.
    The Law

    The sun may be clouded, yet ever the sun
    Will sweep on its course till the cycle is run.
    And when onto chaos the systems are hurled,
    Again shall the Builder reshape a new world. read more »

  • 28.

    My destiny it is tonight
    To sit with pensive brow
    Beside my study fire and write
    This verse I'm making now. read more »

  • 29.
    Stanzas To Jessy

    There is a mystic thread of life
    So dearly wreath'd with mine alone,
    That Destiny's relentless knife
    At once must sever both, or none. read more »

  • 30.
    The Weakling

    I AM a weakling. God, who made
    The still, strong man, made also me.
    The God who could the tiger plan,
    In his lithe splendour unafraid— read more »

  • 31.
    In Cabin'd Ships At Sea

    IN cabin'd ships, at sea,
    The boundless blue on every side expanding,
    With whistling winds and music of the waves--the large imperious read more »

  • 32.

    DEAD man! will you ride with me,
    As you rode that night of yore,
    Will you ride with me, once more
    To Tintagel by the sea? read more »

  • 33.
    Sonnet XLIV: Here Droops the Muse

    Here droops the muse! while from her glowing mind,
    Celestial Sympathy, with humid eye,
    Bids the light Sylph capricious Fancy fly,
    Time's restless wings with transient flowr's to bind! read more »

  • 34.
    Black Man's Dilemma

    Where would we go if told to leave
    This land where our kidnapped forefathers grieved
    For life as it once were
    And not as destiny's mind perceived read more »

  • 35.
    Good And Evil

    Devastation wrought
    In agonizing ill
    Of God's omnipotence
    ..Or..Satan's will read more »

  • 36.

    It was my destiny to die,
    and no matter how much you try,
    it is everyones destiny to die,
    no matter old or young, read more »

New Destiny Poems

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  2. Eternal love, Milan Georges Burovac
  3. Digging Destiny, Pranab K. Chakraborty
  4. Man, Cheryl Griffith
  5. Journey To Destiny, Heather Burns
  6. Dad is destiny!, Nyota Yasulwe
  7. It Is Destiny, gajanan mishra
  8. THIS LIFE WE LIVE, Gwendolyn Anderson
  9. Oh, That Destiny, Roilynn brown
  10. Lies of Destiny, Christopher Cariad
  11. Destiny's Touch, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  12. Perfection, Hiada Debney
  13. DESTINY, Natasha Caroline Norville
  14. Lets try to creat poems, Dimka Sviridenko
  15. From your Destiny, kalpana shah
  16. Nobody Says, gajanan mishra
  17. 'Drums of Destiny', indira babbellapati
  18. Find Me In Dream Destiny, Terence George Craddock (Spe ..
  19. My Destiny Is My Fate, Faez Farhad
  20. Winds Of Destiny, Heather Burns
  21. An Attractive Game, Sossi Khachadourian
  22. We live, Abhinaba Sen
  23. Destiny, Olalekan Joseph Ajayi
  24. Destiny Haiku, Vincent Kuo
  25. Fate or Destiny, sharon kubeck
  26. DESTINY, Natasha Norville
  27. I will make you my destiny, renu kakkar
  28. Destiny, craig moon
  29. Destiny and death, nicolas thomas
  30. Destiny, adedayo michael
  31. DESTINY, Rik Bertrand
  32. Destiny, suchetana lahiri
  33. Destiny, Cynthia BuhainBaello
  34. The book of astrology, Han Min Ohn
  35. My Destiny Song, Aldo Kraas
  36. Destiny, morelson petitfrere
  37. Destined....., Bhawana Bhowmik
  38. DESTINY SONG, Aldo Kraas
  39. Destiny or Fate, Ben Huff
  40. Destiny, AMARNATH C
  41. Fate and Destiny, Robert Grimes
  42. Ability 4, Indira Renganathan
  43. destiny, cassidy lorent
  44. My Destiny, Brisa Maia
  45. Destiny, Unique Princess
  46. 'Tis Destiny, Francis Duggan
  47. Destiny, Paul McAnaney
  48. in gratitude to my destiny', indira babbellapati
  49. Oh My Destiny, khadera nargis
  50. my destiny, Raag Sapra
  51. You Don't Love Me, Ritu Shah
  52. *****Destiny Of Our Lives******, Dulakshi Wakista
  53. messages in bottles, Is It Poetry
  57. Destiny Recieving, Legion As One
  58. 'Destiny', Linda Winchell
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  61. Destiny, Rebecca Wiles
  62. Destiny, Janice Herzog
  63. Destiny, Ijeoma Princess
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  65. Destiny, Laure Howard
  66. Destiny Leads The Way, Francis Duggan
  67. Winds of Destiny, M.A. Ces
  68. my destiny, kemi moshood
  69. Our Destiny Is In Our Own Hands, Francis Duggan
  70. Destiny, vijay gupta
  71. Cyclic Destiny, Zia Jaycee May Trent
  72. Destiny... Begine... Destiny, Aidin Azarkerdar
  73. As Destiny Unfolds, Nettie Pennington
  74. Children of the Gods, Damian Patterson
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