Part VIII
The youth is somehow by the lady's side.
His right-hand grasps her right-hand once again.
Both gaze on the dead body. Hers the word.
"And that was good but useless. Had I lived
The danger was to dread: but, dying now—
Himself would hardly become talkative,
Since talk no more means torture. Fools—what fools
These wicked men are! Had I borne four years,
Four years of weeks and months and days and nights,
Inured me to the consciousness of life
Coiled round by his life, with the tongue to ply,—
But that I bore about me, for prompt use
At urgent need, the thing that 'stops the mouth'
And stays the venom? Since such need was now
Or never,—how should use not follow need?
Bear witness for me, I withdraw from life
By virtue of the license—warrant, say,
That blackens yet this Album—white again,
Thanks still to my one friend who tears the page!
Now, let me write the line of supplement,
As counselled by my foe there: ' each a line!'"
And she does falteringly write to end.
"I die now through the villain who lies dead,
Righteously slain. He would have outraged me,
So, my defender slew him. God protect
The right! Where wrong lay, I bear witness now.
Let man believe me, whose last breath is spent
In blessing my defender from my soul!"
And so ends the Inn Album.
As she dies,
Begins outside a voice that sounds like song,
And is indeed half song though meant for speech
Muttered in time to motion—stir of heart
That unsubduably must bubble forth
To match the fawn-step as it mounts the stair.
"All's ended and all's over! Verdict found
'Not guilty'—prisoner forthwith set free,
Mid cheers the Court pretends to disregard!
Now Portia, now for Daniel, late severe,
At last appeased, benignant! 'This young man—
Hem—has the young man's foibles but no fault.
He's virgin soil—a friend must cultivate.
I think no plant called "love" grows wild—a friend
May introduce, and name the bloom, the fruit!'
Here somebody dares wave a handkerchief—
She'll want to hide her face with presently!
Good-by then! 'Cigno fedel, cigno fedel,
Addio!' Now, was ever such mistake—
Ever such foolish ugly omen? Pshaw!
Wagner, beside! 'Amo te solo, te
Solo amai!' That's worth fifty such!
But, mum, the grave face at the opened door!"
And so the good gay girl, with eyes and cheeks
Diamond and damask,—cheeks so white erewhile
Because of a vague fancy, idle fear
Chased on reflection!—pausing, taps discreet;
And then, to give herself a countenance,
Before she comes upon the pair inside,
Loud—the oft-quoted, long-laughed-over line—
" 'Hail, calm acclivity, salubrious spot!'
Open the door!"
No: let the curtain fall!
poem by Robert Browning from The Inn Album (1875)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
The Pen And The Album
'I am Miss Catherine's book,' the album speaks;
'I've lain among your tomes these many weeks;
I'm tired of their old coats and yellow cheeks.
'Quick, Pen! and write a line with a good grace:
Come! draw me off a funny little face;
And, prithee, send me back to Chesham Place.'
PEN.
'I am my master's faithful old Gold Pen;
I've served him three long years, and drawn since then
Thousands of funny women and droll men.
'O Album! could I tell you all his ways
And thoughts, since I am his, these thousand days,
Lord, how your pretty pages I'd amaze!'
ALBUM.
'His ways? his thoughts? Just whisper me a few;
Tell me a curious anecdote or two,
And write 'em quickly off, good Mordan, do!'
PEN.
'Since he my faithful service did engage
To follow him through his queer pilgrimage,
I've drawn and written many a line and page.
'Caricatures I scribbled have, and rhymes,
And dinner-cards, and picture pantomimes;
And merry little children's books at times.
'I've writ the foolish fancy of his brain;
The aimless jest that, striking, hath caused pain;
The idle word that he'd wish back again.
. . . . . .
'I've help'd him to pen many a line for bread;
To joke with sorrow aching in his head;
And make your laughter when his own heart bled.
'I've spoke with men of all degree and sort—
Peers of the land, and ladies of the Court;
Oh, but I've chronicled a deal of sport!
'Feasts that were ate a thousand days ago,
Biddings to wine that long hath ceased to flow,
Gay meetings with good fellows long laid low;
'Summons to bridal, banquet, burial, ball,
Tradesman's polite reminders of his small
Account due Christmas last—I've answered all.
'Poor Diddler's tenth petition for a half-
Guinea; Miss Bunyan's for an autograph;
So I refuse, accept, lament, or laugh,
'Condole, congratulate, invite, praise, scoff.
Day after day still dipping in my trough,
And scribbling pages after pages off.
'Day after day the labor's to be done,
And sure as comes the postman and the sun,
The indefatigable ink must run.
. . . . .
'Go back, my pretty little gilded tome,
To a fair mistress and a pleasant home,
Where soft hearts greet us whensoe'er we come!
'Dear, friendly eyes, with constant kindness lit,
However rude my verse, or poor my wit,
Or sad or gay my mood, you welcome it.
'Kind lady! till my last of lines is penn'd,
My master's love, grief, laughter, at an end,
Whene'er I write your name, may I write friend!
'Not all are so that were so in past years;
Voices, familiar once, no more he hears;
Names, often writ, are blotted out in tears.
'So be it:—joys will end and tears will dry—
Album! my master bids me wish good-by,
He'll send you to your mistress presently.
'And thus with thankful heart he closes you;
Blessing the happy hour when a friend he knew
So gentle, and so generous, and so true.
'Nor pass the words as idle phrases by;
Stranger! I never writ a flattery,
Nor sign'd the page that register'd a lie.'
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Virginia Wolf
some will strut and some will fret
see this an hour on the stage
others will not but they'll sweat
in their hopelessness and their rage
we're all the same the men of anger
and women of the page
they published your diary
and that's how i got to know you
the key to the room of your own and a mind without end
and here's a young girl
on a kind of a telephone line through time
and the voice at the other end comes like a long lost friend
so i know i'm all right
life will come and life will go
still i feel it's all right
cause i just got a letter to my soul
and when my whole life is on the tip of my tongue
empty pages for the no longer young
the apathy of time laughs in my face
you say "each life has its place"
the hatches were battened
the thunderclouds rolled and the critics stormed
the battle surrounded the white flag of your youth
if you need to know that you weathered the storm
of cruel mortality
a hundred years later i'm sitting here living proof
so you know you're all right
(all right)
life will come and life will go
(life will come and go)
still you'll feel it's all right
(all right)
someone'll get a letter to your soul
(someone gets your soul)
when your whole life is on the tip of your tongue
empty pages for the no longer young
the apathy of time laughed in your face
did you hear me say "each life has its place"
the place where you hold me
dark in a pocket of truth
the moon had swallowed the sun and the light of the earth
and so it was for you
when the river eclipsed your life
and sent your soul like a message in a bottle to me
and it was my rebirth
so we know we're all right
(all right)
though life will come and life will go
(though life will come and life will go)
still you'll feel it's all right
(all right)
someone'll will get a letter to your soul
(someone gets your soul)
then you know you're all right
(when my whole life is on the tip of my tongue)
then you feel you're all right
(empty pages for the no longer young)
and your hear dry you eyes
(you said)
and you know it's all right
(each life has it's place)
and your hear dry your eyes
(you said)
and you know it's all right
(each life has it's place)
and it's all right
(it'll be all right)
words and music emily saliers
copyright 1992 bmi virgin music inc and godhap music (bmi
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Face Up
Ever since Ive seen your face
This life of mine has gone to waste
I was young and you were old
And I always knew you were cold
At the start you had a heart
But in the end you lost your friend
Can you see your own dark face?
Its dieing in a lonely place
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
As we get old, we lose our place
Reflecting back the worlds disgrace
I feel so low, I feel so humble
Sometimes in life we take a tumble
Dont let anybody tell you that youre no good
Cause you know they would
Dont let anybody tell you what you should do
Cause its not that way and...
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure
And life was just an open door
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
You were me and I was you
This world of ours it felt brand new
You took me a little further...
I heard it all before, Ive heard it all before
I cant hear it anymore
Your hair was long, your eyes was blue
Guess what Im gonna do to you
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure
And life was just an open door
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought...
Oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
I said oh, oh, how I cannot bear the thought of you
We were young and we were pure...
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Though hell should bar the way,
A friend is a friend,
well beyond the end.
Because a friend lives in the heart,
the soul,
which turns into sweet memories,
when you fall apart and lose control.
A friend, is SURELY a friend,
well beyond the end.
Because a friend shares good cheers,
through sadness and tears,
letting you know that you have a friend here.
A friend is a friend,
well beyond the end.
Because a friend is there to;
Bear pain,
bear witness to the fact that you care,
And gain,
Gain the fact that;
through sorrows, grief, and pain,
*though hell should bar the way,
share laughter and smiles,
well beyond a mile.
Because a friend can be there,
-be there.
Because a friend can be there
at any expense,
at any given time.
poem by Abigail Marie
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Virginia Woolf
Some will strut and some will fret
See this an hour on the stage
Others will not but theyll sweat
In their hopelessness and their rage
Were all the same the men of anger
And women of the page
They published your diary
And thats how I got to know you
The key to the room of your own and a mind without end
And heres a young girl
On a kind of a telephone line through time
And the voice at the other end comes like a long lost friend
So I know Im all right
Life will come and life will go
Still I feel its all right
Cause I just got a letter to my soul
And when my whole life is on the tip of my tongue
Empty pages for the no longer young
The apathy of time laughs in my face
You say each life has its place
The hatches were battened
The thunderclouds rolled and the critics stormed
The battle surrounded the white flag of your youth
If you need to know that you weathered the storm
Of cruel mortality
A hundred years later Im sitting here living proof
So you know youre all right
(all right)
Life will come and life will go
(life will come and go)
Still youll feel its all right
(all right)
Someonell get a letter to your soul
(someone gets your soul)
When your whole life is on the tip of your tongue
Empty pages for the no longer young
The apathy of time laughed in your face
Did you hear me say each life has its place
The place where you hold me
Dark in a pocket of truth
The moon had swallowed the sun and the light of the earth
And so it was for you
When the river eclipsed your life
And sent your soul like a message in a bottle to me
And it was my rebirth
So we know were all right
(all right)
Though life will come and life will go
(though life will come and life will go)
Still youll feel its all right
(all right)
Someonell will get a letter to your soul
(someone gets your soul)
Then you know youre all right
(when my whole life is on the tip of my tongue)
Then you feel youre all right
(empty pages for the no longer young)
And your hear dry you eyes
(you said)
And you know its all right
(each life has its place)
And your hear dry your eyes
(you said)
And you know its all right
(each life has its place)
And its all right
(itll be all right)
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Friend
MY Friend wears a cheerful smile of his own,
And a musical tongue has he;
We sit and look in each other's face,
And are very good company.
A heart he has, full warm and red
As ever a heart I see;
And as long as I keep true to him,
Why, he'll keep true to me.
When the wind blows high and the snow falls fast
And we hear the wassailers' roar--
My Friend and I, with a right good-will
We bolt the chamber door:
I smile at him and he smiles at me
In a dreamy calm profound,
Till his heart leaps up in the midst of him
With a comfortable sound.
His warm breath kisses my thin gray hair
And reddens my ashen cheeks;
He knows me better than you all know,
Though never a word he speaks:--
Knows me as well as some had known
Were things--not as things be.
But hey, what matters? my Friend and I
Are capital company.
At dead of night, when the house is still,
He opens his pictures fair;
Faces that are, that used to be,
And faces that never were:
My wife sits sewing beside my hearth,
My little ones frolic wild,
Though--Lilian's married these twenty years,
And I never had a child.
But hey, what matters? When those who laugh
May weep to-morrow, and they
Who weep be as those that wept not--all
Their tears long wiped away.
I shall burn out, like you, my Friend,
With a bright warm heart and bold,
That flickers up to the last--then drops
Into quiet ashes cold.
And when you flicker on me, old Friend,
In the old man's elbow-chair,
Or--something easier still, where we
Lie down, to arise up fair
And young, and happy--why then, my Friend,
Should other friends ask of me,
Tell them I lived and loved and died
In the best of all company.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Good Friend She Was
A good friend she was
Would be there for me
Through ups or downs
A good friend she was.
A good friend she was
We laughed and had fun
Her smile was the best
A good friend she was.
A good friend she was
Her caring was amazing
Her love of life showed
A good friend she was.
A good friend she was
Kept her spirits up in pain
Never showed her hurts
A good friend she was.
A good friend she was
Even up until the end
Put my hand on her heart
A good friend she was.
A good friend she was
I will treasure the memories
Of all the joy we shared
A good friend she was.
*Dedicated to my very best friend Maryann whose spirit lives on because you really can't destroy goodness
poem by Connie Webb
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Death
My body, eh? Friend Death, how now?
Why all this tedious pomp of writ?
Thou hast reclaimed it sure and slow
For half a century bit by bit.
In faith thou knowest more to-day
Than I do, where it can be found!
This shrivelled lump of suffering clay,
To which I am now chained and bound,
Has not of kith or kin a trace
To the good body once I bore;
Look at this shrunken, ghastly face:
Didst ever see that face before?
Ah, well, friend Death, good friend thou art;
Thy only fault thy lagging gait,
Mistaken pity in thy heart
For timorous ones that bid thee wait.
Do quickly all thou hast to do,
Nor I nor mine will hindrance make;
I shall be free when thou art through;
I grudge thee nought that thou must take!
Stay! I have lied; I grudge thee one,
Yes, two I grudge thee at this last,--
Two members which have faithful done
My will and bidding in the past.
I grudge thee this right hand of mine;
I grudge thee this quick-beating heart;
They never gave me coward sign,
Nor played me once the traitor's part.
I see now why in olden days
Men in barbaric love or hate
Nailed enemies' hands at wild crossways,
Shrined leaders' hearts in costly state:
The symbol, sign and instrument
Of each soul's purpose, passion, strife,
Of fires in which are poured and spent
Their all of love, their all of life.
O feeble, mighty human hand!
O fragile, dauntless human heart!
The universe holds nothing planned
With such sublime, transcendent art!
Yes, Death, I own I grudge thee mine
Poor little hand, so feeble now;
Its wrinkled palm, its altered line,
Its veins so pallid and so slow --
Ah, well, friend Death, good friend thou art;
I shall be free when thou art through.
Take all there is -- take hand and heart;
There must be somewhere work to do.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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Habeas Corpus
1 My body, eh? Friend Death, how now?
2 Why all this tedious pomp of writ?
3 Thou hast reclaimed it sure and slow
4 For half a century bit by bit.
5 In faith thou knowest more to-day
6 Than I do, where it can be found!
7 This shrivelled lump of suffering clay,
8 To which I am now chained and bound,
9 Has not of kith or kin a trace
10 To the good body once I bore;
11 Look at this shrunken, ghastly face:
12 Didst ever see that face before?
13 Ah, well, friend Death, good friend thou art;
14 Thy only fault thy lagging gait,
15 Mistaken pity in thy heart
16 For timorous ones that bid thee wait.
17 Do quickly all thou hast to do,
18 Nor I nor mine will hindrance make;
19 I shall be free when thou art through;
20 I grudge thee nought that thou must take!
21 Stay! I have lied; I grudge thee one,
22 Yes, two I grudge thee at this last,--
23 Two members which have faithful done
24 My will and bidding in the past.
25 I grudge thee this right hand of mine;
26 I grudge thee this quick-beating heart;
27 They never gave me coward sign,
28 Nor played me once the traitor's part.
29 I see now why in olden days
30 Men in barbaric love or hate
31 Nailed enemies' hands at wild crossways,
32 Shrined leaders' hearts in costly state:
33 The symbol, sign and instrument
34 Of each soul's purpose, passion, strife,
35 Of fires in which are poured and spent
36 Their all of love, their all of life.
37 O feeble, mighty human hand!
38 O fragile, dauntless human heart!
39 The universe holds nothing planned
40 With such sublime, transcendent art!
41 Yes, Death, I own I grudge thee mine
42 Poor little hand, so feeble now;
43 Its wrinkled palm, its altered line,
44 Its veins so pallid and so slow --
* * * (Unfinished here.)
45 Ah, well, friend Death, good friend thou art;
46 I shall be free when thou art through.
47 Take all there is -- take hand and heart;
48 There must be somewhere work to do.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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White Line
(Emmylou Harris Paul Kennerley)
It seems like I was there from the start
A witness to your wild and reckless heart
You showed me the way but now you're gone
Quicker than the trigger of an outlaw's gun
Living fast and dying young
A victim of this road you left me on
White line took my baby
Led him down that dark highway
Headlight blind driving crazy
If my wheels keep turning
Gonna roll that white line away
We worked the road as hard as we could drive her
But now I am the only survivor
From night to night at every place I play in
The sweetness of your song remains
I'll be the keeper of the flame
Til every soul hears what your heart was saying
White line took my baby
Led him down that dark highway
Headlight blind driving crazy
If my wheels keep turning
Gonna roll that white line away
All the nights you spent alone
All the love I'd never shown
All the words I could not say
Till that white line took you away
White line took you away
I'll follow this white line down where it's winding
Cause somewhere up ahead your light's still shining
The sound of the silver strings will guide me
I've stood and watched the bridges burn
I'm past the point of no return
Oh how I wish that you were here beside me
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Line
Can U talk 2 me with your body, baby?
Can U tell me what I wanna hear?
Can U lay on me a good enough reason 2 cross the line?
Yeah, ho! {x2}
Can U be my lover and still be my friend? (Can U be my friend?)
Can U stick with me till the bitter end? (The bitter end)
Can U lay on me a good enough reason 2 cross the line?
Yeah, ho! (Cross the line)
CHORUS:
The line, line - it's a happy step 2 make
It takes time, time - all is what it takes
The line, line - and soon your life is so much better
The water's so much better on the other side (Cross the line)
Can U tolerate? Why am I not so free?
How I did the plan
Can U understand I'm a free man?
But will I stop the dam if I don't cross the line?
Yeah, ho! {x2}
Ow!
Hey
Cross the line sugar, cross the line {x2}
Cross the line
CHORUS
(Cross the line)
Cross the line sugar, cross the line {x3}
I want U 2 cross the line, hey! {sample used in "Acknowledge Me"}
Talk 2 me, say the things I wanna hear, oh!
Cross the line
Cross the line
Cross the line
Baby, baby, baby, can U make me cross the line?
Cross the line, sugar, cross the line
U know U got 2 cross the line!
(New dance) {repeat in BG}
People, people, I got a brand new dance {x2}
Ain't talkin' 'bout Housequake! No!
Ain't talkin' 'bout Shake 'N' Bake! No!
Ain't talkin' 'bout Rice-O-Roni! No!
I'm talkin' 'bout Macaroni? No!
Lord have mercy
Boni? (What?)
On the 2 (Yeah!)
What we gonna do? (Kangaroo!)
Say it! (Kangaroo!)
Come on
Boni? (What?)
On the 2 (Yeah!)
What U wanna do? (Kangaroo!)
Do the do (Do the do!)
Cross the line {repeat}
Baby, baby, baby, cross the line {repeat 2 fade}
Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, help me stand
I try, I have need, I am whole
Through the door, through the shore
Precious Lord, I believe in your name
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Friends
What is a friend
Could it be that it's just a word
Or something in your life that you've heard
Or just another one of those big fat lies
Because many nights this word has made me cry
So hard my stomach hurts deep down inside
[chorus]
uh oh there goes that word again
How do we let it end
I thought you were my friend
I can't believe my very eyes
Right to my face you lied
Cause you're my so-called friend
How could you call yourself a friend
Oh oh there goes that word again
That brings people together and tears them apart
It's always said by those who claim they love you
When all the while they want to fill your shoes
And never calling you up with no good news
They're always happy when your through
They never want the best for you
They're always trying to fill your shoes
(I don't understand this kind of friend)
[chorus]
uh oh there goes that word again
How do we let it end
I thought you were my friend
I can't believe my very eyes
Right to my face you lied
Cause you're my so-called friend
Opportunity's knocking here comes my friend
uh oh there goes that word again
(they only come around when they need something y'all)
They call you everyday 'til they reel you in
And they want to hang out so you can spend on them
(I don't understand, I don't understand this kind of friend)
[chorus]
uh oh there goes that word again
How do we let it end
I thought you were my friend
I can't believe my very eyes
Right to my face you lied
Cause you're my so-called friend
[repeat chorus til fade]
song performed by by Mary J Blige
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Her Last Breath
You had six months to live
Not three weeks
You lay here motionless
Thinking of what to say
I stand beside you
Day and night
Wishing it could go away
She placed her hand in mine
And said her life was good
She had lived long and well
Her hand shakes as death nears
I hold her hand tight
As tears run down my face
As she took what was her one last breath
I feel my heart break
She turned and said she loved me
As her eyes closed
And her body was left lifeless
With me by her side
And her tears in my hand
Today with me she took her last breath
When it was not yet her time to go
poem by Kerrie Maurer
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Who Am I
Try to stay calm
As you open the door
But you can't remember
What you came here for
The edge of the sun
You think, "If God is here,
Why should this pain be done?"
Try to stay calm
But you can't understand
Why a man is begging
And it's not your hand
Go and ask why
And they tell you pray
It's insane
You take a ride thru the magic of life
As all of your fears surround you
You're all alone from beginning to end
While separating the lies from the truth
Who am I? And why are we here?
Who am I? And what do we fear?
Who am I? To say I believe?
Who am I?
Thou shall not kill
But the animal's dead
Because he doesn't count
It's what the good book says
Think about that
And you thinking may change
When the souless creature
Makes you feel ashamed
How can men say
That they can't understand
That the words they read
Were written by a man
How can men claim
That "He" teaches thru pain
It's insane
You look around for the answers to life
You're told that you have to have faith
You get a book explaining 10,000 years
But there are 5 billion more that remain
Who am I? And why are we here?
Who am I? And what do we fear?
Who am I? To say I believe?
Who am I?
Solo
Be a good boy and we'll open the door
But you better have faith or you'll be no more
Try to stay calm but you can't understand
Why the good is not counted in a faithless man
Who am I? The question of man
Who am I? Could love be the plan?
Who am I? To say I can see
Who am I?
Who am I? Why are you here?
Who am I? What you you fear?
Who am I? To say what to do?
Who am I?
Who am I?
Who am I?
Tell me, tell me, tell me
Who am I?
You've got to make us to see
Who am I?
To believe
song performed by by Zebra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Witness
I saw an ant devour sherman mountain.
Slip across the floor in the river of honey.
I saw the locust drinking from a fountain.
It smiled at me as I paid my money.
Chorus
Caus Im a witness, witness, see the writing on the wall.
Im a witness, witness, I say Ive seen it all.
Caus Im a witness, witness, Ive got all the proof.
Im a witness, witness, I swear to tell the truth.
I saw her buying in the face of fashion.
Wholl believe with her little white lies.
I saw her arrive on my bed of passion.
But I never saw a look of love in her eyes.
Chorus
Some days my eyes can see for miles and miles around.
Some nights my dreams just take me deep underground.
My minds a time machine, Im in the future and the past.
The past... scrape away...
(violin solo)
Chorus
Chorus
Witness, witness, witness
Witness, witness, witness
Witness, witness, witness
Witness, witness, witness
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At A Funeral
I loved her too, this woman who is dead.
Look in my face. I have a right to go
And see the place where you have made her bed
Among the snow.
I loved her too whom you are burying.
I have a right to stand beside her bier,
And to my handful of the dust I fling,
That she may hear.
I loved her; and it was not for the eyes
Which you have shut, nor for her yellow hair,
Nor for the face which in your bosom lies.
Let it lie there!
Nor for the wild--birds' music of her voice,
Which we shall hear in dreams till we too sleep;
Nor for the rest, which made the world rejoice,
The angels weep.
It was not for the payment of sweet love,
Though love is often straitened for a kiss,
Nor for the hope of other joys above,
But only this,
That she had laid her hand upon my heart
Once in the summer time when we were young,
And that her finger--tips had left a smart,
And that my tongue
Had spoken words which might not be unspoken
Lest they should make a by--word of love's truth,
And I had sworn that love should be the token
Of my youth.
And so I gave her all, and long ago
The treasure of my youth was put in pawn;
And she was little richer that I know
When that was gone.
But I have lived a beggar since that day
And hide my face it may be from men's eyes;
For often I have seen them shrink away,
As in surprise
That such a loathsome cripple should be found
To walk abroad in daylight with the rest,
And scarce a rag to cover up the wound
Upon his breast.
Yet no man stopped to ask how this might be,
Or I had scared them, and let loose my tongue,
How I had bought myself this misery
When I was young.
Yet I have loved her. This must be my pay,
The pension I have earned me with these tears;
The right to kneel beside her grave to--day,
Despite these years,
With all her kisses burning on my cheek,
As when I left her and our love was dead,
And our lips trembled though they did not speak,
The night I fled;
The right to bid you stand aside, nor be
A witness of our meeting. Did you love
In joy as I have loved in misery?
You did not prove
Your love was stronger than the strength of death,
Or she had never died upon your hand.
I would have fed her breathing with my breath;
I would have fanned
A living wind of Heaven to her lips;
I would have stolen life from Paradise.
And she is dead, and you have seen eclipse
Within those eyes.
If I could know that you had loved her well;
If I could hold it for a certainty
That you had sold your life as I did sell;
If I could see
The blackness of your soul, and with my tongue
Taste the full bitterness of tears unshed;
If I should find your very heart was wrung
And maimed and dead;
If I should feel your hand's grasp crumble mine,
And hug the pain when I should grasp in turn;
If I could dip my fingers in the brine
Of eyes that burn;
If I could hear your voice call back the dead
With such a mighty cry of agony
That she should turn and listen in the bed
Where she doth lie,
And all the heavens should together roll,
Thinking they heard the angel's trumpet tone,
I could forget it that you bought a soul
Which was my own;
I could forget that she forgot her vows,
That aught was bartered for the wealth of love;
I could untell the story of my woes,
Till God above
Should hold her guiltless and condone the wrong
Done to His justice; I could take your hand
And call you brother, as we went along
To take our stand
Before His judgment--seat with her again
Where we are hurrying,--for we could not keep
Our place unchallenged in the ranks of men
Who do not weep.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Real Good Looking Boy
When I think back to the
first time in my childhood
When I saw that face
I thought right then,
'That's a real good looking boy.'
I saw myself in the mirror
in profile
for the first time
I thought,
'Hey! That's a real good looking boy'
And I felt then
that I moved
With all those lucky bucks and angels
High in the theatre
In the sky
So I went to my mother
I said,
'Hey mom - take look at me'
Have you ever seen a teen
Fly so high?
That's a real good looking boy
That's a real good looking boy
She said,
'Son, well, you know,
you're ugly boy.
You don't really look like him.
In this long line
There's been some
real strange genes
You've got 'em all
You've got 'em all
With some extras thrown in
That's a real good looking boy
That's a real good looking boy
That's a real good looking boy
That's a real good looking boy
Wise men say
Only fools, only fools rush in
But I - I give in
Falling in love, in love with you
Now I'm here with you little darling
And you say, 'You're beautiful as you are'
And I've managed somehow to survive
You arrived in my life like a fragrance
And helped me find a way to laugh
And I know now so-called beauty lies
God gave him a face
Then he gave me something above
God gave me grace
Then he gave me your sweet, sweet, sweet love
You make me feel like a real good looking boy
I feel like a real good looking boy
That's a real good looking boy
That's a real good looking boy
song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Georgine Sand Miner
A step-mother drove me from home, embittering me.
A squaw-man, a flaneur and dilettante took my virtue.
For years I was his mistress -- no one knew.
I learned from him the parasite cunning
With which I moved with the bluffs, like a flea on a dog.
All the time I was nothing but "very private" with different men.
Then Daniel, the radical, had me for years.
His sister called me his mistress;
And Daniel wrote me: "Shameful word, soiling our beautiful love!"
But my anger coiled, preparing its fangs.
My Lesbian friend next took a hand.
She hated Daniel's sister.
And Daniel despised her midget husband.
And she saw a chance for a poisonous thrust:
I must complain to the wife of Daniel's pursuit!
But before I did that I begged him to fly to London with me.
"Why not stay in the city just as we have?" he asked.
Then I turned submarine and revenged his repulse
In the arms of my dilettante friend. Then up to the surface,
Bearing the letter that Daniel wrote me,
To prove my honor was all intact, showing it to his wife,
My Lesbian friend and everyone.
If Daniel had only shot me dead!
Instead of stripping me naked of lies,
A harlot in body and soul.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Have You A Friend?
Have you a friend you truly love?
And does this friend love you?
For in this world of push and shove
We need someone that’s true
Have you a friend who’d understand?
The foolish things you‘ve done
Who’s always there to lend a hand
Until your battle’s won
A friend who values what you do
Listens to what you say
Who’ll help in life your goals pursue
Who’s with you all the way
Have you a friend who loves to give?
Who loves to love and care
Who lives the way you ought to live
And how you ought to share
Have you a friend who’ll tell no lies?
When seeing things were wrong
Would take your hand and criticise
In hope you’d change your song
Have you a friend who would agree
To walk with you life’s road
And though your faults are plain to see
Would help to bear your load
Have you a friend who’d take your blame
Who in your place would die
And on the gallows bless you name
Whispering prayers on high
Have you a friend in Jesus Christ
Who all these things portraits
Who for our sins was sacrificed
So we could learn His ways
poem by Michael P. Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not Marble Nor The Gilded Monuments
THE praisers of women in their proud and beautiful poems
Naming the grave mouth and the hair and the eyes
Boasted those they loved should be forever remembered
These were lies
The words sound but the face in the Istrian sun is forgotten
The poet speaks but to her dead ears no more
The sleek throat is gone -and the breast that was troubled to listen
Shadow from door
Therefore I will not praise your knees nor your fine walking
Telling you men shall remember your name as long
As lips move or breath is spent or the iron of English
Rings from a tongue
I shall say you were young and your arms straight and you!
mouth scarlet
I shall say you will die and none will remember you
Your arms change and none remember the swish of your garments
Nor the click of your shoe
Not with my hand's strength not with difficult labor
Springing the obstinate words to the bones of your breast
And the stubborn line to your young stride and the breath to your breathing
And the beat to your haste
Shall I prevail on the hearts of unborn men to remember
(What is a dead girl but a shadowy ghost
Or a dead man's voice but a distant and vain affirmation
Like dream words most)
Therefore I will not speak of the undying glory of women
I will say you were young and straight and your skin fair
And you stood in the door and the sun was a shadow of leaves on your shoulders
And a leaf on your hair
I will not speak of the famous beauty of dead women
I will say the shape of a leaf lay once on your hair
Till the world ends and the eyes are out and the mouths broken
Look! It is there!
poem by Archibald MacLeish
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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