True Friendship
They say this world is fraught with guile
They say that lips may wear a smile,
And yet the heart be cold the while,
As Zembla's sparkling icicle.
They say that those beloved for years,
Will fly when adverse fate appears,
And meet us ‘midst our lonely tears,
With eye averted scornfully.
Believe it not—oh no! oh no!
True hearts there are, that love not so,
But closer twine in grief and woe,
And love ev'n more in misery!
There may be some, perchance, whose eye
Will only smile when hope is high,
And from the couch of sorrow fly,
To meet in sounds of revelry.
Yet think not all are false and fair!
Though hearts of truth, alas! be rare,
Some, some, at least, will surely bear
The test of dark adversity.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A New Year's Greeting
TO A CIRCLE OF FRIENDS.
A kindly greeting to you all—
To all an opening year of gladness;
May never sorrow round you fall
More dark than evening's twilight sadness.
The wintry blast may whistle shrill,
And clouds may dim the face of heaven;
But Friendship's wreath shall blossom still,
On this our gladsome New-Year's even.
While lips and hearts are smiling thus,
And hands are fondly clasp'd together,
Oh what are cloudy skies to us,
Or fortune's bright or sunny weather?
We may not meet, to hail again
Another year with hearts of lightness;
Some beating pulse may rest ere then,
Some eye have lost its wonted brightness.
We may have met, perchance—alas!
To mingle hearts and then be parted;
Or some dark blight may o'er us pass,
And leave us lone and broken-hearted.
But let the future smile, or frown,
The wing of hope is waving o'er us;
One gem of bliss is still our own,
And one bright rose of joy before us.
Then may the rose be cherish'd well—
The sparkling gem be sullied never—
And parted Friendship's only knell,
Be when our hearts are still'd forever.
poem by Elizabeth Margaret Chandler from Poetical Works (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Smiles
Smile a little, smile a little,
As you go along,
Not alone when life is pleasant,
But when things go wrong.
Care delights to see you frowning,
Loves to hear you sigh;
Turn a smiling face upon her –
Quick the dame will fly.
Smile a little, smile a little,
All along the road;
Every life must have its burden,
Every heart its load.
Why sit down in gloom and darkness
With your grief to sup?
As you drink Fate’s bitter tonic,
Smile across the cup.
Smile upon the troubled pilgrims
Whom you pass and meet;
Frowns are thorns, and smiles are blossoms
Oft for weary feet.
Do not make the way seem harder
By a sullen face;
Smile a little, smile a little,
Brighten up the place.
Smile upon your undone labour;
Not for one who grieves
O’er his task waits wealth or glory;
He who smiles achieves.
Though you meet with loss and sorrow
In the passing years,
Smile a little, smile a little,
Even through your tears.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the spirit of Rumi - 20
I sang to My Beloved
O My Beloved –
how could I sing of the joy
of being closer to You
than Your breath…
than Your eyes…
than Your lips…
if Sorrow had not visited me? …
In the middle of the darkest night
in the cold midwinter of the heart,
a stranger knocked upon my door:
it was Sorrow, wrapped in blackest cloak.
I greeted Sorrow; bade come in;
ate bread with Sorrow and drank wine with it;
then with a smile, sent Sorrow on its way.
Now the sun has risen,
the dawn is like a world made new
and I have woken fresh
as if I had already washed.
[this one comes with a smile for Allie, who occasioned it...]
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the Spirit of Rumi-16
I said to My Beloved
How, my dearest one,
do you know those who truly love You?
My Beloved said
Not by their smiling face,
nor by their eagerness;
nor by the quickness of their response,
nor by the force and wealth of their response
pleasing though these are –
but by their stillness: as
a rose is still; or as a fine-proportioned vase is still;
or as a sunlit golden dome is still;
or as the bluest vault of heaven is still;
they have a stillness all about them; for
their hearts are ever at rest; there is no need
for their still heart to move; they are
always the same; they rest in love;
they meet you with all love,
they greet you with all love;
you cannot add to their true love,
you cannot take away from their true love;
and if you wish to test their love,
the test is constancy; there is no change in them;
they speak, they feel, they act, from constancy;
what is their substance? It is constancy;
I stand with them in constancy,
they stand with Me in constancy..
if that is not what you would ask of them in love,
then they are not for you; but they,
they are My true lovers, lovers of the truth in Me
-said My Beloved.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Things We Dare Not Tell
The fields are fair in autumn yet, and the sun's still shining there,
But we bow our heads and we brood and fret, because of the masks we wear;
Or we nod and smile the social while, and we say we're doing well,
But we break our hearts, oh, we break our hearts! for the things we must not tell.
There's the old love wronged ere the new was won, there's the light of long ago;
There's the cruel lie that we suffer for, and the public must not know.
So we go through life with a ghastly mask, and we're doing fairly well,
While they break our hearts, oh, they kill our hearts! do the things we must not tell.
We see but pride in a selfish breast, while a heart is breaking there;
Oh, the world would be such a kindly world if all men's hearts lay bare!
We live and share the living lie, we are doing very well,
While they eat our hearts as the years go by, do the things we dare not tell.
We bow us down to a dusty shrine, or a temple in the East,
Or we stand and drink to the world-old creed, with the coffins at the feast;
We fight it down, and we live it down, or we bear it bravely well,
But the best men die of a broken heart for the things they cannot tell.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Memorial Pillar
Hast thou thro' Eden's wild-wood vales, pursued
Each mountain-scene, magnificently rude,
Nor with attention's lifted eye, revered
That modest stone, by pious Pembroke rear'd,
Which still records, beyond the pencil's power,
The silent sorrows of a parting hour? ~ ROGERS.
Mother and child! whose blending tears
Have sanctified the place,
Where, to the love of many years,
Was given one last embrace;
Oh! ye have shrin'd a spell of power,
Deep in your record of that hour!
A spell to waken solemn thought,
A still, small under-tone,
That calls back days of childhood, fraught
With many a treasure gone;
And smites, perchance, the hidden source,
Tho' long untroubled–of remorse.
For who, that gazes on the stone
Which marks your parting spot,
Who but a mother's love hath known,
The one love changing not?
Alas! and haply learn'd its worth
First with the sound of 'Earth to earth?'
But thou, high-hearted daughter! thou,
O'er whose bright honour'd head,
Blessings and tears of holiest flow,
Ev'n here were fondly shed,–
Thou from the passion of thy grief,
In its full burst, couldst draw relief.
For, oh! tho' painful be th' excess,
The might wherewith it swells,
In nature's fount no bitterness
Of nature's mingling, dwells;
And thou hadst not, by wrong or pride,
Poison'd the free and healthful tide.
But didst thou meet the face no more
Which thy young heart first knew?
And all–was all in this world o'er,
With ties thus close and true?
It was!–On earth no other eye
Could give thee back thine infancy.
No other voice could pierce the maze
Where, deep within thy breast,
The sounds and dreams of other days
With memory lay at rest;
No other smile to thee could bring
A gladd'ning, like the breath of spring.
Yet, while thy place of weeping still
Its lone memorial keeps,
While on thy name, midst wood and hill,
The quiet sunshine sleeps,
And touches, in each graven line,
Of reverential thought a sign;
Can I, while yet these tokens wear
The impress of the dead,
Think of the love embodied there,
As of a vision fled?
A perish'd thing, the joy and flower
And glory of one earthly hour?
Not so!–I will not bow me so,
To thoughts that breathe despair!
A loftier faith we need below,
Life's farewell words to bear.
Mother and child!–Your tears are past–
Surely your hearts have met at last.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Old Friends
HOW are they waned and faded from our hearts,
The old companions of our early days!
Of all the many loved, which name imparts
Regret when blamed, or rapture at its praise?
What are their several fates, by Heaven decreed,
They of the jocund heart, and careless brow?
Alas! we scarcely know and scarcely heed,
Where, in this world of sighs, they wander now.
See, how with cold faint smile, and courtly nod,
They pass, whom wealth and revelry divide-
Who walked together to the house of God,
Read from one book, and rested side by side;
No look of recognition lights the eye
Which laughingly hath met that fellow-face;
With careless hands they greet and wander by,
Who parted once with tears and long embrace.
Oh, childhood! blessed time of hope and love,
When all we knew was Nature's simple law,
How may we yearn again that time to prove,
When we looked round, and loved whate'er we saw.
Now dark suspicion wakes, and love departs,
And cold distrust its well-feigned smile displays;
And they are waned and faded from our hearts,
The old companions of our early days!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love's Second Chance?
We did not ask for Cupid’s arrow
To pierce our young 'n tender hearts
Alas, Juliet must not have her Romeo
As fate decreed we live apart
Our hearts prepared a special place
Deep within wise and knowing souls
In golden box our love we did encase
Then engaged in worldly roles
Time did race and tallied 4 score + 4
Fate meant these lovers meet again
Sparks of love set ablaze once more
Renewed a time from “Way back when”
If true that “The only truth is change”
What’s also true...“Life is very strange”
poem by Ray Lucero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
True Love Endures
True love
requires no proof
needs no proving.
True love
cannot help but
prove itself
over the course of time.
True love
stands the acid
test of time
with indomitable will
of true lovers
who cannot bear
to parted be.
True love
despite all adversity
unleashed
cannot parted be.
True lovers
live in the hearts
of their beloved
amazed at the beauty
two souls invoke
that cannot parted be.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Oriental Nosegay. By Pickersgill
THROUGH the light curtains came the perfumed air,
And flung them back and show'd a garden, where
The eye could just catch glimpses of those trees
Which send sweet messages upon the breeze
To lull a maiden's sleep, and fan her cheek,
When inward thoughts in outward blushes speak.
Bequeath's a silken couch, just fit to be
A snowy shrine for some fair deity;
And there a beauty rests, lovely as those
Enchanted visions haunting the repose
Of the young poet, when his eyelids shut
To dream that love they have but dream'd as yet;--
But dream'd! Alas, that love should ever be
A happiness but made for phantasie!
And flowers are by her side, and her dark eye
Seems as it read in them her destiny.
She knew whose hand had gather'd them, she knew
Whose sigh and touch were on their scent and hue.
Beautiful language! Love's peculiar, own,
But only to the spring and summer known.
Ah! little marvel in such clime and age
As that of our too earth-bound pilgrimage,
That we should daily hear that love is fled,
And hope grown pale, and lighted feelings dead.
Not for the cold, the careless to impart,
By such sweet signs, the silence of the heart:
But surely in the countries where the sun
Lights loveliness in all he shines upon,--
Where love is as a mystery and a dream,
One single flower upon life's troubled stream;
There, there, perchance, may the young bosom thrill,
Feeling and fancy linger with love still.
She look'd upon the blossoms, and a smile,
A twilight one, lit up her lip the while.
Surely her love is blest, no leaves are there
That aught of lover's misery declare.
True, 'mid them is that pale and pining flower,
Whose dim blue colour speaks an absent hour;
Yet it is nothing but that tender sorrow
Of those who part to-day to meet to-morrow:
For there are hope and constancy beside,
And are not these to happiness allied;
And yet upon that maiden's cheek is caught
A summer evening's shade of pensive thought,
As if these large soft eyes knew all their fate,
How the heart would its destiny create,--
At once too tender, and too passionate;--
Too made for happiness to be happy here,
An angel fetter'd to an earthly sphere.--
And those dark eyes, so large, so soft, so bright,
So clear as if their very tears were light;
They tell that destiny, art thou not one
To whom love will be like the summer sun
That feeds the diamond in the secret mine,
Then calls it from its solitude to shine,
And piece by piece be broken. Watch the bloom,
And mark its fading to an early tomb,
And read in the decay upon it stealing
Of thy own wasted hope and wither'd feeling,--
Ay, fitting messengers for love! as fair,
As quickly past as his own visions are;--
Fling, fling the flowers away!
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song (Untitled #3)
Fair and false! No dawn will greet
Thy waking beauty as of old;
The little flower beneath thy feet
Is alien to thy smile so cold;
The merry bird flown up to meet
Young morning from his nest i' the wheat
Scatters his joy to wood and wold,
But scorns the arrogance of gold.
False and fair! I scarce know why,
But standing in the lonely air,
And underneath the blessed sky,
I plead for thee in my despair; -
For thee cut off, both heart and eye
From living truth; thy spring quite dry;
For thee, that heaven my thought may share,
Forget-how false! and think-how fair!
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lonely hearts
Lonely hearts, they don't cry
They moan in silence, they want to die.
Lonely hearts, they have no fear
And strength to dropp a single tear
Lonely hearts, they're cold inside
They have a dreadful pain to hide,
Lonely hearts, they're wrapped by grief
No joy, no prayers, no relief
Lonely hearts, they stop to beat
When hope is weak and starts to split.
Lonely hearts, forgotten dreams...
They fade away with stifled screams
poem by Katerina Yanchuk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Living Lost, The
Matron! the children of whose love,
Each to his grave, in youth have passed,
And now the mould is heaped above
The dearest and the last!
Bride! who dost wear the widow's veil
Before the wedding flowers are pale!
Ye deem the human heart endures
No deeper, bitterer grief than yours.
Yet there are pangs of keener wo,
Of which the sufferers never speak,
Nor to the world's cold pity show
The tears that scald the cheek,
Wrung from their eyelids by the shame
And guilt of those they shrink to name,
Whom once they loved, with cheerful will,
And love, though fallen and branded, still.
Weep, ye who sorrow for the dead,
Thus breaking hearts their pain relieve;
And graceful are the tears ye shed,
And honoured ye who grieve.
The praise of those who sleep in earth,
The pleasant memory of their worth,
The hope to meet when life is past,
Shall heal the tortured mind at last.
But ye, who for the living lost
That agony in secret bear,
Who shall with soothing words accost
The strength of your despair?
Grief for your sake is scorn for them
Whom ye lament and all condemn;
And o'er the world of spirits lies
A gloom from which ye turn your eyes.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Living Lost
Matron! the children of whose love,
Each to his grave, in youth have passed,
And now the mould is heaped above
The dearest and the last!
Bride! who dost wear the widow's veil
Before the wedding flowers are pale!
Ye deem the human heart endures
No deeper, bitterer grief than yours.
Yet there are pangs of keener wo,
Of which the sufferers never speak,
Nor to the world's cold pity show
The tears that scald the cheek,
Wrung from their eyelids by the shame
And guilt of those they shrink to name,
Whom once they loved, with cheerful will,
And love, though fallen and branded, still.
Weep, ye who sorrow for the dead,
Thus breaking hearts their pain relieve;
And graceful are the tears ye shed,
And honoured ye who grieve.
The praise of those who sleep in earth,
The pleasant memory of their worth,
The hope to meet when life is past,
Shall heal the tortured mind at last.
But ye, who for the living lost
That agony in secret bear,
Who shall with soothing words accost
The strength of your despair?
Grief for your sake is scorn for them
Whom ye lament and all condemn;
And o'er the world of spirits lies
A gloom from which ye turn your eyes.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Unbroken
(holly lamar, annie roboff)
How I ever lived and breathed before you loved me, I dont recall
If I walked around at all, it was in bits and pieces
Of a jagged heart
You kissed me and every piece went back in place, every pain got erased
You held me up to the light
No one ever left me out in the rain
Cold words still remain unspoken
And I never got lost, spent years in the dark
Youre here, now my hearts unbroken
When I see your smile fill my soul again
Im unbroken
If I doubted the power of love, baby now I understand
I thank God for every day I wake up to the soft touch
Of your magic hands
In this world sometimes the only thing thats real is the way you make me feel
Babe, the changes day and night
I swear its life
No one ever left me out in the rain
Cold words still remain unspoken
And I never got lost, spent years in the dark
Youre here, now my hearts unbroken
When I see your smile fill my soul again
Im unbroken
I still see the night, I fell into your eyes
And when we made love it felt like the first time
No one ever left me out in the rain
Cold words still remain unspoken
And I never got lost, spent years in the dark
Youre here, now my hearts unbroken
When I see your smile fill my soul again
Im unbroken
When I see your smile fill my soul again
Im unbroken
Im unbroken, oh yeah
Im unbroken
No one ever left me out in the rain
Cold words still remain unspoken
And I never got lost, spent years in the dark
Youre here, now my hearts unbroken
When I see your smile fill my soul again
Im unbroken
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Ballad
I KNOW my love is true,
And oh the day is fair.
The sky is dear and blue,
The flowers are rich of hue,
The air I breathe is rare,
I have no grief or care;
For my own love is true,
And oh the day is fair.
My love is false I find,
And oh the day is dark.
Blows sadly down the wind,
While sorrow holds my mind;
I do not hear the lark,
For quenched is life's dear spark,—
My love is false I find,
And oh the day is dark!
For love doth make the day
Or dark or doubly bright;
Her beams along the way
Dispel the gloom and gray.
She lives and all is bright,
She dies and life is night.
For love doth make the day,
Or dark or doubly bright.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Was Not False To Thee
I WAS not false to thee, and yet
My cheek alone looked pale;
My weary eye was dim and wet,
My strength began to fail.
Thou wert the same; thy looks were gay,
Thy step was light and free;
And yet, with truth, my heart can say,
I was not false to thee!
I was not false to thee, yet now
Thou hast a cheerful eye,
With flushing cheek and drooping brow
I wander mournfully.
I hate to meet the gaze of men,
I weep where none can see;
Why do I only suffer, when
I was not false to thee?
I was not false to thee; yet oh!
How scornfully they smile,
Who see me droop, who guess my woe,
Yet court thee all the while.
'Tis strange! but when long years are past,
Thou wilt remember me;
Whilst I can feel until the last,
I was not false to thee!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Smile Smile
Smile is
with out
Word of
Love...
Smile
Is style
Of beauty...
Smile
Is life too
Eazy...
Smile
Is tenson free
Life...
Smile
Is no menson...
Feel free
Smile free...
With out your
And others money...
Loot the lots of hearts
With a smile....
With your own smile...? ? ?
Don't use anothers smile....! ! !
Ok...smile...smile...
Not only yours lips
With your heart to smile....smile...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Delia: On Her Endeavouring To Conceal Her Grief At Parting
Ah! wherefore should my weeping maid suppress
Those gentle signs of undissembled woe?
When from soft love proceeds the deep distress,
Ah, why forbid the willing tears to flow?
Since for my sake each dear translucent drop
Breaks forth, best witness of thy truth sincere,
My lips should drink the precious mixture up,
And, ere it falls, receive the trembling tear.
Trust me, these symptoms of thy faithful heart,
In absence shall my dearest hope sustain;
Delia! since such thy sorrow that we part,
Such when we meet thy joy shall be again.
Hard is that heart, and unsubdued by love,
That feels no pain, nor ever heaves a sigh;
Such hearts the fiercest passions only prove,
Or freeze in cold insensibility.
Oh! then indulge thy grief, nor fear to tell
The gentle source from whence thy sorrows flow,
Nor think it weakness when we love to feel,
Nor think it weakness what we feel to show.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When Love Dies
What first began with ecstacy continued for a while...
She captured every part of me with each seducing smile...
It's not that she intended this, yet that's how things turned out
And some would say that perfect bliss is what life's all about...
The weeks flew by, yet time stood still each moment we embraced
And I recall the utmost thrill of how her lips would taste...
I held her close, we stood as one, our hearts were beating fast...
So how was I to know our fun just wasn't meant to last?
She didn't call, she didn't write, I saw no reason why...
But then one night, I gained insight and then watched my love die...
And die it did, at first quite slow, for who wants love to end?
Its death struck me a mortal blow... I'm not the same, my friend...
A part of me, with love, died, too... How can I love again?
How can what's left of me pursue true love like trusting men?
So here I am, alone once more, no lips to kiss at all,
Indeed more lonely than before, since memories I recall...
How many years are left to live, if living's quite the word?
A broken heart, what can it give? To love would be absurd...
If I've one chance, then that's enough, perchance to raise the bar!
For broken hearts still yearn to love! That's just the way they are!
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!