Andres789, 60, Männlich, Spanien gesehen: September 2008

14003 gespielte Titel seit 29. Feb. 2008

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"To see a world in a Grain of Sand, And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour"



Whom this bell
Tolls may be so ill,
As that he knows not
It tolls for him;
And perchance
I may think myself
So much better
Than I am,
As that they who are
About me,
And see my state,
May have caused it
To toll for me,
And I know not that.

The church is Catholic,
So are all her actions;
All that she does
Belongs to all.

When she baptizes a child,
that action concerns me;
For that child is thereby
Connected to that body
Which is my head too,
And ingrafted into that body
Whereof I am a member.

And when she buries a man,
That action concerns me:
All mankind is of one author,
And is one volume;
"When one man dies,
One chapter is not torn
Out of the book,
But translated into a better language;
And every chapter must be so translated;
God employs several translators;
Some pieces are translated
By age, some by sickness,
Some by war, some by justice;
But God's hand
Is in every translation,
And his hand shall bind up
All our scattered leaves again
For that library
Where every book shall lie
open to one another.

As therefore the bell
That rings to a sermon calls
Not upon the preacher only,
But upon the congregation to come,
So this bell calls us all;
But how much more me,
Who am brought so near the door
By this sickness.

There was a contention
As far as a suit
(in which both piety
and dignity,
religion and estimation,
were mingled),
Which of the religious orders
Should ring to prayers
First in the morning;
And it was determined,
That they should ring
First that rose earliest.

If we understand aright
The dignity of this bell
That tolls for our evening prayer,
We would be glad to make it
Ours by rising early,
In that application,
That it might be ours
As well as his,
Whose indeed it is.

The bell doth toll
Ror him
That thinks it doth;
And though it intermit again,
Yet from that minute
That this occasion
Wrought upon him,
he is united to God.

Who casts not up his eye
To the sun when it rises?
But who takes off his eye
From a comet
When that breaks out?
Who bends not his ear
To any bell which upon
Any occasion rings?
But who can remove it
From that bell
Which is passing
A piece of himself
Out of this world?

"No man is an island,
Entire of itself;
Every man is a piece
Of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away
By the sea,
Europe is the less,
As well as
If a promontory were,
As well as
If a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in
Mankind, and therefore
Never send to know
For whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee"

Neither can we call this
A begging of misery,
Or a borrowing of misery,
As though
We were not miserable enough
of ourselves,
But must fetch in more
From the next house,
In taking upon us the
misery of our neighbours.

Truly it were
An excusable covetousness
If we did,
For affliction is a treasure,
And scarce any man hath
Enough of it.

No man hath affliction enough
That is not matured
And ripened by it,
And made fit for God
By that affliction.

If a man carry
Treasure in bullion,
Or in a wedge of gold,
And have non coined
Into current money,
His treasure
Will not defray him
As he travels.

Tribulation is treasure
In the nature of it,
But it is not
Current money
In the use of it,
Except we get
Nearer and nearer
Our home, heaven, by it.

Another man may be sick too,
And sick to death,
And this affliction
May lie in his bowels,
As gold in a mine,
And be of no use to him;
But this bell,
That tells me of his affliction,
Digs out and applies that gold
To me: if by this consideration
Of another's danger
I take mine own I
Into contemplation,
And so secure myself,
By making
My recourse to my God,
Who is our only security.






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