The Orphic Hymns are a collection of eighty-seven hymns addressed to various Gods in the Greek mythos. They are among the few extant works of Orphic Mystery Literature that originated in ancient Greece. Historians believe that the hymns were composed in the second or third centuries AD, but these dates are far after the apex of Orphic Mystery wisdom.

Based on my research of the Mysteries and Anthroposophy, I believe that Orphic Hymns originated sometime in the 8th-9th centuries BC in Asia Minor and Greece. They were the foundational impulse for spirituality, art, music, and prose - and initiation - for Greek and Western culture. Surviving Orphic fragments were preserved and copied by those who lived within the spirit of the ancient Mysteries of the Graeco-Roman period, but unfortunately most have been lost. 

The known surviving verses were the work of ancient initiates who mastered the art of spiritual prose, lyrics, and music and they still resonate today. 

https://www.theoi.com/Text/OrphicHymns1.html 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orphic_Hymns

Orphic Hymns by Thanassakis, Apostolos, 2013: https://ia804707.us.archive.org/12/items/orphic-hymns-num/Orphic%20Hymns%20%5Bnum%5D.pdf

Rudolf Steiner on Orpheus

(1) "Orpheus...belongs to an age immediately preceding that of Christianity. It was Orpheus who inaugurated the Grecian Mysteries."  -Rudolf Steiner, 

https://rsarchive.org/Lectures/GA124/English/RSPC1937/19110116p01.html

(2) "‘Orpheus’—the name given to the reincarnated Apollo, or “Son of Apollo.”  This tragedy of the soul is represented in a marvelous way in the figures of ‘Orpheus and Eurydice’. Eurydice was soon torn from Orpheus. She dwelt in another world; but Orpheus still had the power, through his music, of teaching the beings of the nether world." -Rudolf Steiner, The Christ Impulse and the Development of the Ego Consciousness, GA 116, I. The Sphere of the Bodhisattvas

https://rsarchive.org/Lectures/GA116/English/APC1926/19091025p01.html

(3) "The coming of Christ-Jesus was prepared for by the sequence of the founders of religions, by Zarathustra, Hermes, Moses, Orpheus, Pythagoras. All their teachings pursue the same aim: To let wisdom flow into humanity, but in every case, in the form most suited to each people respectively." -Rudolf Steiner, The Christian Mystery, GA 97, XII. Adept Schools of the Distant Past,   

https://rsarchive.org/Lectures/GA097/English/CMP2000/19070307p02.html

*A "Son of Apollo" in ancient Greece was also referred to as a "Son of the Sun" or "Son of Zeus." This term refers to someone who has attained his or her spiritual initiation. Heracles, Theseus, and Perseus were "Sons of the Sun." A "Son of Zeus" was the same concept that applied to someone who had attained the lofty stage of human transformation. 

The following selected verses have been slightly modified by me based on my limited knowledge of Mystery Wisdom. In my view, some of the vernacular used in translation is perhaps a little off. Regardless, the essential meaning is the same. Thus, there is a degree of subjectivity that goes into my alterations. I allowed my intuition to work into the verse and chose suitable vernacular where I felt it was appropriate. Source: https://www.theoi.com/Text/OrphicHymns1.html#33

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Orphic Hymn No 3. To God of the Sky (Heaven)

Great God of Heaven, whose mighty frame no respite knows, 

Father of all, from whom the world arose.
Hear bounteous parent, source and end of all

Forever whirling round this earthly ball.

Abode of Gods, whose guardian power surrounds 

The eternal world of enduring and limitless bounds
Whose ample bosom and encircling folds 

The dire necessity of nature holds.

Ethereal, earthly, whose eternal-changing frame 

Azure and full of forms, no power can tame.

All-seeing Heaven, progenitor of Time, 

Forever blessed, God sublime.

Auspicious to prose, 

your mystic shines

And crown his wishes, 

with life divine.

Orphic Hymn No. 4. For Fire (Warmth Ether)

O Ever untamed Fire-Ether, who reigns on high 

In Jove's dominions, ruler of the sky.

The glorious sun with dazzling luster so bright,

And moon and stars from thee derive their light.

All taming power, ethereal shining fire, 

Whose vivid gales of light and warmth, of life is inspired.

The world's best element, light-bearing power

With starry radiance shining, of splendid flowers.

O, hear my prayer, 

And may thy eternal frame

Be forever innocent, 

Serene and tame.

Orphic Hymn 7. To the Stars (Astron)

With holy voice I call the stars on high, 

Pure sacred lights and genii of the sky.
Celestial stars, the progeny of Night, 

In whirling circles beaming far, your light.

Luminous rays, around the heavens ye throw, 

Eternal fires, the source of all below.
With flames significant, of Fate ye shine,

And oversee to men, a path divine.

In seven bright spheres ye move with wandering flames, 

And heaven and earth compose your lucid frames.
With course unwearied, pure and fiery bright, 

Forever shining through the veil of Night.

Hail twinkling, joyful, ever-conscious fires! 

Abundantly shine on my pure desires,
These sacred rites, regard with sentient rays, 

We end our work, devoted to your praise.

Hear, Goddess queen, 

Diffusing silver light, 

Bull-horned and wandering through 

The gloom of Night.

With stars surrounded, and with circuit wide 

Night's torch extending, through the heavens you ride
Female and Male, with borrowed rays you shine, 

When fully orbed, tending to decline.

Mother of ages, 

Force-creative Moon, 

Whose amber orb makes 

Night's reflected noon.

Lover of horses, 

Splendid Queen of Night, 

All-seeing power bedecked 

With starry light.

Lover of vigilance, the foe of strife, 

In peace rejoicing, and a prudent life
Fair lamp of night, its ornament and friend, 

Who gives to Nature's works their destined end.

Queen of the stars, all-wife Diana hail! 

Decked with a graceful robe and shining veil
Come, blessed Goddess, prudent, starry, bright, 

Come moon-lamp with chaste and splendid light.

Shine on these sacred rites

With prosperous rays 

And pleased, accept 

Our prayer and mystic praise.

Orphic Hymn 11. To Heracles (Hercules)

Hear, powerful Heracles, untamed and strong, 

To whom vast hands and mighty works belong.
Almighty Titan, prudent and benign, 

Of diverse forms, eternal and divine.

Father of Time, the theme of praise, 

Ineffable and adored in many ways.
Magnanimous, in the sacred arts are you skilled 

And the athletic labors of the field.

The strong archer, all things to devour, 

Supreme, all-helping, all-bearing power.
To thee, mankind as their deliverer do pray, 

Whose arm can chase the savage tribes away. 

Untiring, earth's best blossom, offspring fair, 

To whom calm peace, and peaceful works are dear.
Self-born, with divine and eternal fires you shine, 

Various names and strength of heart are thine.

Thy mighty mind supports the morning light, 

And bears untamed, the silent gloomy night.
From east to west ye endured with strength divine, 

The twelve glorious labors to absolve is thine.

Supremely skilled, you reign in heaven's abodes, 

As a part of Heaven, amidst the Gods.
With arms unshaken, infinite, divine, 

Come blessed forces, to our sacred rites be inclined.

Alleviations of illness do you convey, 

And drive disastrous maladies away.

Come, shake the branch with thy almighty arm, 

To darts and harmful fates, ye disarm.

*Dr. Steiner lectured on Heracles and his true mission in light of initiation and the ancient Greek Mysteries. Refer to Rudolf Steiner, Christianity as Mystical Fact, GA 8, 4. Mystery Wisdom and Myth https://rsarchive.org/Books/GA008/English/AP1947/GA008_c05.html. Refer also to the article on this website under "Aspects & Topics" called "Heracles, Son of the Sun."

O Father Jove (Zeus), who resonates with fiery light 

The world-depths resounding, from thy lofty height
From thee proceeds ethereal lightning's ablaze, 

Flashing around intolerable rays.

Thy sacred thunderings shake blessed abodes, 

The shining regions of the immortal Gods
Thy power divine, the flaming lightning shrouds, 

With dark investiture, in aqueous clouds.

'Tis thine to brandish thunders 

Strong and dire, 

To scatter storms, 

And dreadful darts of fire. 

With roaring flames all around, 

And bolts of thunder of tremendous sound.
Thy rapid dart can raise the hair upright, 

And shake the hearts of men with ferocious fright.

Sudden, holy, thundering God, 

With noise unbounded, flying all-abroad
With all-permeating force, entire and strong, 

Without constraint, thou rollest the flames along.

Swift ethereal bolts, descending spirit-fire, 

The earth parent, trembles at thy ire

The sea all-shining and each beast 

That hears the mighty tones, with dreadful fears.

When Nature's face is bright with flashing fire, 

The heavens resound with thy thunders dire.
Thy thunders white, the azure garments tear, 

And pierce the veil of the surrounding air.

O Jove [Zeus], all-blessed, may thy wrath severe

Hurled in the bosom of the deep appear
And on the tops of mountains be revealed

For thy strong arm is not concealed.

Propitious to these sacred rites incline, 

And crown my wishes with a life divine
Add royal health, and gentle peace beside, 

With equal reason, be my perpetual guide.

Orphic Hymn 21. To the Sea (Tethys)

To Tethys I call, 

With eyes cerulean bright, 

Hidden in a veil, 

Obscure from human sight.

The Great Ocean's empress, 

Wandering through the deep, 

And pleased with gentle gales, 

The earth to sweep.

Whose blessed waves in swift succession go, 

And lash the rocky shore with endless flow.
Delighting in the Sea, serene to play, 

In ships exulting, the watery way.

Whose blessed waves in swift succession go, 

And lash the rocky shore with endless flow.
Delighting in the Sea, serene to play, 

In ships exulting, the watery way.

Mother of Venus, 

And of clouds obscure, 

Great nurse of beasts, 

And source of fountains pure.

O venerable Goddess, 

Hear my prayer, 

And make benevolent, 

My life in thy care.

Send, blessed queen, 

To ships a prosperous breeze, 

And waft them safely over 

The stormy seas.

Orphic Hymn 24. To Proteus (The Old Man of the Sea)

To Proteus I call, whom Fate decrees, to keep the keys 

Which lock the chambers of the deep;
First-born, by whose illustrious forces alone 

All of nature's principles are clearly shown.

Matter to change with dynamic forms is thine, 

Matter unformed, spacious, and divine.
Eternally honored, prudent, whose sagacious mind 

Knows all that was, and is, of every kind.

With all that shall be in succeeding time,

So vast thy wisdom, wonderous, and sublime.
For all things Nature first to thee consigned, 

And in thy essence, all form was defined.

Come, blessed Father, 

To our mystic rites attend,

And grant our happy lives 

a prosperous end.

*Proteus was a prophetic God of the Sea and Waters; one of several deities and whom Homer referred to as "The Old Man of the Sea."

Orphic Hymn 32. To Victory (Nike).

O Powerful Victory, by men desired, 

With adverse breasts to dreadful fury fired.
Thee I invoke, whose might alone can quell 

Contending rage, and molestation fell.

It is yours in battle to confer the crown, 

The victor's prize, the mark of sweet renown.
For thou rule all things, Victory divine! 

And glorious strife, and joyful shouts are thine.

Come, mighty Goddess, thy petition bless, 

With sparkling eye, elated with success.
May deeds illustrious, thy protection claim, 

And find, led on by thee immortal Fame.

*A beautiful statue of Nike standing on the prow of ship resided at Somathrace and portrayed a winged Goddess who guarded the entrance to the Temple and was a symbol of the highest transformation of the human spirit in initiation. Today, this beautiful statue resides in the Louvre in Paris. This statue is the portrayal of the highest spirit within the human being who has realized and attained his or her higher self which leads to freedom.

Ceralian queen, of celebrated name, 

From whom both men and Gods immortal came
Who widely wandering once, oppressed with grief, 

In Eleusina's valley, found relief.*

Discovering Proserpine [Persephone], thy daughter pure 

In dread Avernus**, dismal and obscure
A sacred youth while through the world you stray 

Bacchus (Dysaulos), attending leader of the way.

The holy marriage of terrestrial Jove-Zeus relating, 

While oppressed with grief you rove
Come, much invoked and to these rites inclined, 

Thy mystic servant bless, with favoring mind.

*Author's note: Or initiation. The region of Eleusina (Eleusis) was one of the centers of the ancient Greek Mysteries and was connected to several leading personalities of Greece including Heracles. The myth of Persephone was lectured upon by Dr. Rudolf Steiner and I recommend a search on www.rsarchives.com for insights on this mystery which the Greeks held sacred.

**Avernus was an ancient name for a volcanic crater located near Cumae, Italy which the Romans believed was the entrance to the underworld.

Orphic Hymn 42: To the Seasons (Horai)

Daughters of Zeus and Themis, 

Seasons bright,
Justice, and blessed Peace, 

And lawful Right.

Vernal and grassy, vivid, holy powers, 

Whose balmy breath exhales in lovely flowers.
All-colored seasons, with increase is your care, 

Circling, forever flourishing, and fair.

Invested with a veil of shining dew, 

A flowery veil delightful to view.
Attending Persephone, when back from night,
The Fates and Graces lead her up to light.

When in a perfect symphony they advance, 

And joyful round her, form the solemn dance.
With Ceres triumphing, and Zeus divine,

Great fortune come, and our incense shine.

Give to earth, 

A reserve of fruits to bear

And a good mystic's life, 

Into your eternal care.

Dedication to Faust

Ye wavering forms draw near again as ever
When ye long since moved past my clouded eyes.
To hold you fast, shall I this time endeavor?
Still does my heart that strange illusion prize?
Ye crowd on me! Tis well! You might as ever
While ye from mist and murk around me rise.

As in my youth my heart again is bounding
Thrilled by the magic breath your train surrounding.

Ye bring with you glad days and happy faces.
Ah, many dear, dear shades arise with you
Like some old tale that Time but half erases,
First Love draws near to me and Friendship too.

The pain returns, the sad lament retraces,
Life’s labyrinth, erring course anew
And names the good souls who fortune cheated
Of lovely hours forth from my world have fleeted.

They do not hear the melodies I’m singing.

The souls to whom my earliest lays I sang
Dispersed that throng who once to me were clinging,
The echoes died away that one time rang.
Now midst an unknown crowd my grief is ringing,
Their praise but gives my heart a pang,
While those who once my song enjoyed and flattered
If they still they live, roam through the wide world scattered.

And I am seized with long-unwonted yearning
Toward yonder realms of spirits and still.
My plaintive song’s uncertain tones are turning
To harps aeolian murmuring at will.
Awe binds me fast, tear upon tear falls burning,
My stern heart feels a gentle, tender thrill;
What I possess, as far off I’m seeing
And what has vanished, new comes into Being.
 

*Goethe was a prolific writer, poet, botanist, scientist, and literary artist who could see into the depths of the human heart and the world of the spirit. He was one of the inspirations for the Anthroposophical movement. Dr. Rudolf Steiner named the global headquarters of the Anthroposophical Society in Dornach, Switzerland the “Goetheanum”.  Dr. Steiner, in at least one lecture, referred to him as an initiate. He was one of the most prolific and inspirational authors and poets of his day.

"Dream no small dreams, for they have no power to move the hearts of men."

The Prophet

Man’s needs change, but not his love, nor his desire that his

love should satisfy his needs. Know, therefore, that from the

greater silence I shall return.

The mist that drifts away at dawn, leaving but dew in the

fields, shall rise and gather into a cloud and then fall down in

rain. And not unlike the mist have I been.

In the stillness of the night I have walked in your streets,

and my spirit has entered your houses, And your heart-beats

were in my heart, and your breath was upon my face, and I

knew you all.

Ay, I knew your joy and your pain, and in your sleep your

dreams were my dreams. And oftentimes I was among you a

lake among the mountains.

I mirrored the summits in you and the bending slopes, and

even the passing flocks of your thoughts and your desires.

And to my silence came the laughter of your children in

streams, and the longing of your youths in rivers.

And when they reached my depth the streams and 

the rivers ceased not yet to sing. But sweeter still than laughter and

greater than longing came to me.

It was the boundless in you; The vast man in whom you are

all but cells and sinews; He in whose chant all your singing is

but a soundless throbbing. It is in the vast man that you are

vast, And in beholding him that I beheld you and loved you.

For what distances can love reach that are not in that vast

sphere? What visions, what expectations and what presumptions can outsoar that flight?

Like a giant oak tree covered with apple blossoms is the vast

man in you. His might binds you to the earth, his fragrance

lifts you into space, and in his durability you are deathless.

You have been told that, even like a chain, you are as weak as

your weakest link. This is but half the truth.

You are also as strong as your strongest link. To measure you

by your smallest deed is to reckon the power of ocean by the

frailty of its foam.

To judge you by your failures is to cast blame upon the

seasons for their inconstancy. Ay, you are like an ocean, And

though heavy-grounded ships await the tide upon your shores,

yet, even like an ocean, you cannot hasten your tides. -Gibran, The Prophet

Jesus the Son of Man

I know He would have forgiven my dancing
For the saintly head of His friend.
I know He would have seen in me
An object of His own teaching.
For there was no valley of hunger He could not bridge,
And no desert of thirst He could not cross.
 

Yea, He was even as the poplars,
And as the lakes among the hills,
And like snow upon Lebanon.-Gibran, Jesus the Son of Man, Jesus the Poet

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Aye, He was a poet whose heart dwelt in a bower beyond the heights, and His songs though sung for our ears, were sung for other ears also, and to men in another land where life is forever young and time is always dawn.
 

Once I too deemed myself a poet, but when I stood before Him in Bethany, I knew what it is to hold an instrument with but a single string before one who commands all instruments. For in His voice there was the laughter of thunder and the tears of rain, and the joyous dancing of trees in the wind.
 

And since I have known that my lyre has but one string, and that my voice weaves neither the memories of yesterday nor the hopes of tomorrow, I have put aside my lyre and I shall keep silence. But always at twilight I shall hearken, and I shall listen to the Poet who is the sovereign of all poets. -Gibran, Jesus the Son of Man, Jesus the Poet

The Calling of the Grey Wanderer

O far-travelling, Sky-Cloaked Wanderer,
From the far, ancient lands
We call to you across mountain and forest,
And the far, limitless greenlands;
We call to you across distant time
And a hundred hundred slow turnings
Of the vast spindle of the sky.

We call to you in lands of mystery,
Where ravens wheel in darkening skies,
And the far calling of wolves
Echoing eldritch through crisp night wind
Brings close the strange far worlds
Where humankind never has trod.

We call to you beyond the distant icy tundra
And the vast plains of snow
Beneath the unearthly rippling and flowing
Of the dark northern skies´ boreal lights
To the golden gates of far Valhall
Where the shimmering bridge of rainbow
Links the dark Middle Earth of men
With the shining realms of the Gods.

Come to us now and be with us here,

Great Odin!

Rite

My Folk come from beyond the stars,

And beyond the stars I shall return in time

Ennobled and possessed of great powers

If I am worthy.

Death is but a portal to God

Which can be attained in the fullness of time.

It is said that the Great Lords of High Valhalla

Once trod the sacred groves, and were as I.

Saluted the fierce and honorable wolf,

Honored the raven as messengers of the Gods,

And learned wisdom. 

So shall it be with me, I here resolve.

Even though I may change form and essence

And pass from life to life

I shall be ever yet the same.

Sooner or later my own divine and everlasting spark of life

Shall go beyond.

I myself range among a million million worlds.

Like Great Odin himself, I shall eventually

Attain to the power of the Godhood,

To be in all times, and in all places.

Hail Odin!

 -© Ed Fitch, from his book "The Rites of Odin". Amazon: The Rites of Odin (Llewellyn's Teutonic Magick Series): Fitch, Ed: 9780875422244: Amazon.com: Books 

*Regarding the identity of the spiritual individuality of Odin and his role in the destiny of nations as an angelic being, refer to: Rudolf Steiner, The Mission of the Individual Folk Souls, GA 121, 8. The five post-Atlantean Civilizations. Greek and Teutonic Mythology. https://rsarchive.org/Lectures/GA121/English/RSP1970/19100614p02.html

**The symbol of the Raven is a sign of development, and transformation, in the European and Nordic mysteries; "...the seven stages of initiation...were often built into the solid rock.  They were only accessible to those who came to know them as morally advanced pupils and initiates after strict tests. 

The first grade was the “Raven”. As a raven the neophyte carried the knowledge acquired in the outer sense world into spiritual life. The idea of the raven has lingered in myths and sagas. There are the Ravens of Wotan, the ravens of Elijah, and in the German Barbarossa saga ravens are the intermediaries between the emperor under a spell in the  mountain and the outer world. In the Mithraic mysteries “Raven”  signified a grade of initiation." Rudolf Steiner:, https://rsarchive.org/Lectures/GA094/English/UNK1980/19060305p01.html. This is an abridged quote.

Little Flower, you're a lucky one

you soak in all the lovely sun

you stand and watch it all go by

and never once do bat an eye

while others have to fight and strain

against the world and its every pain of living

But you must, too, have wars to fight

the cold bleak darkness of every night

of a bigger vine who seeks to grow

and is able to stand the rain and snow

and yet you never let it show

on your pretty face.

-Written by Grace Kelly as a child

Quoted  by Gwen Robyns in the book "Princess Grace".

The Parable of the Old Man and the Young, Wilfred Owen, June 1918.
 

So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?

Then Abram bound the youth with belts and strops,
And builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead. 

But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one. 

*Wilfred Owen died on November 4, 1918, at the Western Front 7 days before The Great War ended. This poem, and others by authors who published works during that period including Robert Graves and Siegfried Sassoon, were published by the London Times during the war and gained national acclaim as the war grinded into its fourth year; a war that cost of millions of people and finally concluded with the armistice on November 18, 1918. The 11th month, at the 11th hour, and the 11th day of that year.

In Flanders Fields, Colonel John McCrae, 1915.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. 

Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

*Canadian Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, M.D. wrote "In Flanders Fields" on May 3, 1915, the day after presiding over the funeral and burial of his friend Lieutenant Alexis Helmer who had been killed during the Second Battle of Ypres; the second major battle at Ypres in Belgium began on April 22, 1915. The Germans used poisonous chlorine gas in the attacks. During “17 days of Hades”, as McCrae described it, he and his medical staff treated nearly 4,600 wounded men, many of whom died by asphyxiation. The poem was written as he sat on a medical field ambulance near an advance medical station north of Ypres. The poppy flower grows in large numbers on the battlefields and cemeteries in the region of Flanders, France. McCrae died of pneumonia in 1918. He is buried at Wimereux Cemetery in France. 

Max Ehrmann was was an American writer, poet, and attorney from Terre Haute, Indiana, widely known for his 1927 prose poem "Desiderata" ("things desired"). He often wrote on spiritual themes. Ehrmann was born in  Terre Haute, Indiana to German immigrant parents. In 1894 he graduated  from DePauw University. Later Ehrmann studied law and  philosophy at Harvard University. He returned to Terre Haute where he practiced law. 

When he began writing, he devoted every day to his work. Ehrmann wrote many poems, but his most famous poems are "Desiderata"  (1927) and "A Prayer (1906)". Some of his prayers became very popular during periods of strife in American history including the Great Depression of 1930 and found were published in newspapers and magazines; many found their way onto the walls of homes across America.

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Desiderata - Words of Life (1927)

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
 

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
 

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
 

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
 

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
 

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
 

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
 

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

A Prayer

Let  me do my work each day; and if the darkened hours of despair overcome  me, may I not forget the strength that comforted me in the desolation of   other times.
 

May I still remember the bright  hours that found me walking over the silent hills of my childhood, or  dreaming on the margin of a quiet river, when a light glowed within me,  and I promised my early God to have courage amid the tempests of the  changing years.
 

Spare me from bitterness and from  the sharp passions of unguarded  moments. May I not forget that poverty  and riches are of the spirit. 
 

Though the world knows me not, may my thoughts and actions be such as shall keep me friendly with myself.
 

Lift up my eyes from the earth,  and let me not forget the uses of the  stars.  Forbid that I should  judge others lest I condemn myself. 
 

Let me not follow the clamor of the world, but walk calmly in my path.
 

Give me a few friends who will love me for what I am; and keep ever burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope.
 

And though age and infirmity  overtake me, and I come not within sight of  the castle of my dreams,  teach me still to be thankful for life, and  for time's olden memories  that are good and sweet; and may the evening's twilight find me gentle  still.

Whatever Else You Do

Whatever else you do or forbear,
impose upon yourself the task of happiness;
and now and then abandon yourself
to the joy of laughter.
 

And however much you condemn
the evil in the world, remember that the
world is not all evil; that somewhere
children are at play, as you yourself in the
old days; that women still find joy
in the stalwart hearts of men;
 

And that men, treading with restless feet
their many paths, may yet find refuge
from the storms of the world in the cheerful
house of love.

Reference: https://allpoetry.com/Max-Ehrmann

The Knights of St. John

Oh, nobly shone the fearful cross upon your mail afar,
When Rhodes and Acre hailed your might, O lions of war!
When leading many a pilgrim horde, through wastes of Syrian gloom;
Or standing with the cherub's sword before the holy tomb.

Yet on your forms the apron seemed a nobler armor far,
When by the sick man's bed ye stood, O lions of war!
When ye, the high-born, bowed your pride to tend the lowly weakness,
The duty, though it brought no fame, fulfilled by Christian meekness--

Religion of the cross, thou blend'st, as in a single flower,
The twofold branches of the palm - humility and power.

https://allpoetry.com/The-Knights-Of-St.-John

The Secret

Afar with strange discordant noises,
The busy day is echoing;
And 'mid the hollow hum of voices,
I hear the heavy hammer ring.

'Tis thus that man, with toil ne'er ending
Extorts from heaven his daily bread;
Yet oft unseen the Gods are sending
The gifts of fortune on his head!

Oh, let mankind discover never
How true love fills with bliss our hearts
They would but crush our joy forever,
For joy to them no glow imparts.

Thou ne'er wilt from the world obtain it--
'Tis never captured save as prey;
Thou needs must strain each nerve to gain it,
Ever envy dark asserts her sway.

The hours of night and stillness loving,
It comes upon us silently-
Away with hasty footstep moving
Soon as it sees a treacherous eye.

Thou gentle stream, soft circlets weaving,
A watery barrier cast around,
And, with thy waves in anger heaving,
Guard from each foe this holy ground!

https://allpoetry.com/poem/8535915-The-Secret-by-Friedrich-von-Schiller

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
       To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
       The island of Shalott.

Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
       Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
       The Lady of Shalott....

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45360/the-lady-of-shalott-1842

Morte d'Arthur 

There drew he forth the brand Excalibur,

And o'er him, drawing it, the winter moon,

Brightening the skirts of a long cloud, ran forth

And sparkled keen with frost against the hilt:

For all the haft twinkled with diamond sparks,

Myriads of topaz-lights, and jacinth work

Of subtlest jewellery. He gazed so long

That both his eyes were dazzled, as he stood,

This way and that dividing the swift mind,

In act to throw: but at the last it seem'd

Better to leave Excalibur conceal'd

There in the many-knotted water-flags,

That whistled stiff and dry about the marge.

So strode he back slow to the wounded King...

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45370/morte-darthur