Pathwalkers herb gardens - Gypsey Website
Pathwalkers herb gardens - Gypsey Website Pathwalkers herb gardens - Gypsey Website
PathWalkers.Net Interactive :: Helping you along your path Your eye has not strength enough to gaze at the burning sun, but you can see its brilliant light by watching its reflection mirrored in the water. So the reflection of Absolute Being can be viewed in this mirror of Not-Being, for non-existence, being opposite Reality, instantly catches its reflection. Know the world from end to end is a mirror; in each atom a hundred suns are concealed. If you pierce the heart of a single drop of water, from it will flow a hundred clear oceans; if you look intently at each speck of dust, in it you will see a thousand beings. A gnat in its limbs is like an elephant; in name a drop of water resembles the Nile.In the heart of a barleycorn is stored an hundred harvests.Within a millet-seed a world exists.In an insect’s wing is an ocean of life.A heaven is concealed in the pupil of an eye.The core in the center of the heart is small, yet the Lord of both worlds will enter there. Mahmud Shabistari (d. 1340) (87 Reads) comments? Poetry: Ode to a Nightingale Posted by: Nyxks on Saturday, August 14, 2004 - 09:46 AM http://www.pathwalkers.net/interactive/modules.p...ame=News&file=index&catid=&topic=24&allstories=1 (8 of 20) [12/25/2005 12:06:05 AM]
PathWalkers.Net Interactive :: Helping you along your path MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk: ’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot, But being too happy in thine happiness,— That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees, In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless, Singest of summer in full-throated ease. O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth, Tasting of Flora and the country green, Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth! O for a beaker full of the warm South, Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene, With beaded bubbles winking at the brim, And purple-stained mouth; That I might drink, and leave the world unseen, And with thee fade away into the forest dim: Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget What thou among the leaves hast never known, The weariness, the fever, and the fret Here, where men sit and hear each other groan; Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies; Where but to think is to be full of sorrow And leaden-eyed despairs, Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes, Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow. Away! away! for I will fly to thee, Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards, But on the viewless wings of Poesy, Though the dull brain perplexes and retards: Already with thee! tender is the night, And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne, Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays; But here there is no light, Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways. I cannot see what flowers are at my feet, Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs, http://www.pathwalkers.net/interactive/modules.p...ame=News&file=index&catid=&topic=24&allstories=1 (9 of 20) [12/25/2005 12:06:05 AM]
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PathWalkers.Net Interactive :: Helping you along your path<br />
MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains<br />
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,<br />
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains<br />
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:<br />
’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,<br />
But being too happy in thine happiness,—<br />
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,<br />
In some melodious plot<br />
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,<br />
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.<br />
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been<br />
Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,<br />
Tasting of Flora and the country green,<br />
Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!<br />
O for a beaker full of the warm South,<br />
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,<br />
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,<br />
And purple-stained mouth;<br />
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,<br />
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:<br />
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget<br />
What thou among the leaves hast never known,<br />
The weariness, the fever, and the fret<br />
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;<br />
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,<br />
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;<br />
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow<br />
And leaden-eyed despairs,<br />
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,<br />
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.<br />
Away! away! for I will fly to thee,<br />
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,<br />
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,<br />
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:<br />
Already with thee! tender is the night,<br />
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,<br />
Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays;<br />
But here there is no light,<br />
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown<br />
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.<br />
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,<br />
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,<br />
http://www.pathwalkers.net/interactive/modules.p...ame=News&file=index&catid=&topic=24&allstories=1 (9 of 20) [12/25/2005 12:06:05 AM]