Related quotes: I know not how to...

I Know Not How to Find the Spring

I know not how to find the Spring,
Though violets are here,
And in the boughs high over me
The birds are fluting clear;
The magic and the melody,
The rapture—all are fled,
And could they wake, they would but break
My heart, now you are dead.

poem by Florence Earle Coates from Mine and Thine (1904)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

The Melody Of My Heart

my heart is on the rise
and fall
my heart's melody is as nice
than all
like the leaves
on the tree by the river

my heart is a melody
to the birds of love,
life and all that worth
as i walked the earth
with the melody
of my heart from then
and sang to my heart a melody

i explore an adventure
of the melody in my heart
and art a melody of my heart
with fingers dancing to the heart
my veins rain with melody of the heart
i feel the heart
in talk and melody
and that melody
is the melody
of my heart

my heart is a melody
to the words of a rhythm
its music from the heart
a melody of emotions,
feelings, love and death
...after all,
it is the melody of my heart

poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part I: To Manon: XVIII

HE LAMENTS THAT HIS LOVE IS DEAD
My love is dead, dead and in spite of me,--
Dead while I lived,--while yet my blood was rife
With hope and pleasure and the pride of life.
For my love ended unexpectedly
During the Winter, stricken like a tree
By a night's cold, and frozen to the blood,
Whose leaves fell off and never were renewed
By any promise of the years to be.
And, when the Spring came, and the birds, to mate
Among its branches, lo! they found it bare,
Though all around was Summer in the wood.
Yet they took heart awhile, incredulous
That such a tree should be for ever dead.
``'Tis early yet,'' they cried. ``The Spring is late.
It shall still be as in the days that were.''
But Summer came and went while the tree stood
Bare in the sun like a deserted house.
--Then the birds suddenly despaired and fled.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sonnet-A New Year's Sonnet

Wake up; Wake up, for a New Year is born!
Spring-time has come and the Oak has acorn;
Wake up; Wake up, for the sweet songs of Birds;
They twitter and chatter, flying in hordes.

Wake up; Wake up, for the meadow is green;
The landscape is so bright, lively, serene;
Wake up; Wake up, for the tall grass in dance,
To the tune of the Wind, marching perchance.

Wake up; Wake up, for the gorgeous flowers,
Have blossom'd after the Spring-time showers;
Wake up; Wake up, for the Sun has come out;
’Tis warm day indeed for running about.
Wake up; Wake up, for the weather is fine;
’Tis time you made peace with neighbours with wine

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

All the violets are wilted, roses are dead...

Roses are red, violets are blue,
Say that you love me, tell me you do,
But the violets have wilted, the roses are dead,
Unlike the voices, so loud in you head,
You fought like a soldier, you were so brave,
But too weak for your mind, which kept you a slave,
People were blind, they did not see through,
The fake smiles and lies that became of you,
You tried hard, though all in vain,
For the demons still lurked in your brain,
The light was gone, her last breath taken,
Asleep forever, she would not awaken,
For the violets have wilted, roses are dead,
Away from herself, the young girl had fled.

poem by Just Paige
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Wake Up Dead

I sneak in my own house
Its four in the morning
I had too much to drink
Said I was out with the boys
I creep in my bedroom
I slip into bed,
I know if I wake her,
Ill wake up dead
Chorus:
I wonder, will she find out,
About the other, other lover.
Diana.
Wake up dead, you die
Wake up dead, and buried.
Wake up dead, you die
Wake up dead.

song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Spring Begins (Terza Rima Sonnet)

I hear the music, magic all around,
the little birds are singing in my dreams,
ah, how I missed this pleasant, joyful sound.

I feel the freshness of the crystal streams.
White snowdrops gently say the Spring is here.
Through puffy clouds, the sun so happy gleams,

the rain has stopped; the sky is blue and clear.
Pink tulips wake up early from the snow,
Spring is indeed the best time of the year.

The gardens missed the old romantic glow.
Blue angels dance; the world in wonder spins.
The Winter cries. She's sad and has to go.

She shows, last time, her irritated grins;
The Spring has won again the Spring begins!

poem by Marius Alexandru (February 2022)
Submitted by anonym
Vote! | Copy!

Doubting Heart

WHERE are the swallows fled?
Frozen and dead,
Perchance, upon some bleak and stormy shore.
O doubting heart!
Far over purple seas
They wait, in sunny ease,
The balmy southern breeze,
To bring them to their northern homes once more.

Why must the flowers die?
Prison’d they lie
In the cold tomb, heedless of tears or rain.
O doubting heart!
They only sleep below
The soft white ermine snow,
While winter winds shall blow,
To breathe and smile upon you soon again.

The sun has hid its rays
These many days;
Will dreary hours never leave the earth?
O doubting heart!
The stormy clouds on high
Veil the same sunny sky,
That soon (for spring is nigh)
Shall wake the summer into golden mirth.

Fair hope is dead, and light
Is quench’d in night.
What sound can break the silence of despair?
O doubting heart!
Thy sky is overcast,
Yet stars shall rise at last,
Brighter for darkness past,
And angels’ silver voices stir the air.

poem by Adelaide Anne Procter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Violets For Your Furs

Tom adair / matt dennis
It was winter in manhattan
Falling snowflakes filled the air
The streets were covered with a film of ice
But a little simple magic that Id heard about somewhere
Changed the weather all around, just withn a trice
You bought me violets for my furs
And it was spring for a while, remember?
You bought me violets for my furs
And there was april in that december
The snow drifted on the flowers and melted where it lay
The snow looked leke dew on the blossoms
As on a summer day
You bought me violets for my furs
Aand there was blue in the wintry sky
You pinned the violets to my furs
And gave a lift to the crowds passing by
You smiled at me so sweetly
Since then one thought occurs
That we fell in love completely
The day you bought me violets for my furs

song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Spring

Wake up again, sad heart, wake up again !
(I heard the birds this morning singing sweet.)
Wake up again ! The sky was crystal clear,
And washed quite clean with rain ;
And tar below my heart stirred with the year,
Stirred with the year and sighed. O pallid feet
Move now at last, O heart that sleeps with pain
Rise up and hear
The voices in the valleys, run to meet
The songs and shadows. O wake up again !

Put out green leaves, dead tree, put out green leaves t
(Last night the moon was soft and kissed the air.)
Put out green leaves ! The moon was in the skies,
All night she wakes and weaves.
The dew was on the grass like fairies' eyes,
Like fairies' eyes. O trees so black and bare,
Remember all the fruits, the full gold sheaves;
For nothing dies,
The songs that are, are silences that were,
Summer was Winter. O put but green leaves!

Break through the earth, pale flower, break through the earth !
(All day the lark has sung a madrigal.)
Break through the earth that lies not lightly yet
And waits thy patient birth,
Waits for the jonquil and the violet,
The violet. Full soon the heavy pall
Will be a bed, and in the noon of mirth
Some rivulet
Will bubble in my wilderness, some call
Will touch my silence. O break through the earth.

poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Autumn Violets

Keep love for youth, and violets for the spring:
Of if these bloom when worn-out autumn grieves,
Let them lie hid in double shade of leaves,
Their own, and others dropped down withering;
For violets suit when home birds build and sing,
Not when the outbound bird a passage cleaves;
Not with dry stubble of mown harvest sheaves,
But when the green world buds to blossoming.
Keep violets for the spring, and love for youth,
Love that should dwell with beauty, mirth, and hope:
Or if a later sadder love be born,
Let this not look for grace beyond its scope,
But give itself, nor plead for answering truth—
A grateful Ruth tho' gleaning scanty corn.

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Roses Are Red Violets Are Blue

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I've never found someone as patient
As you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you get lost
Then I'll look for you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
You know I'm always sorry
When I hurt you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
If I could
Id turn back to when i first kissed you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you don't believe me
Then what else can I do

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Baby no one knows me
As much as you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Believe I'll do anything
To get next to you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Tell me you still love me
And I'll run to you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
You might not know
But I love you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
The stars shine bright
But not as bright as you do

Roses are red
Violets are blue
If I could pick anyone
I would pick you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
The first day I saw you
That's when I knew

Roses are red
Violets are blue
No one will ever love you
As much as I do

Roses are red violets are blue
Even if you get me mad
I'll still be in love with you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
My heart skips a beat
When I'm laying next to you

Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you love me
Then show me that that love is true

poem by Jennifer Alejandra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Natural Beat

You're the rhythm that rocks
To the beat that never stops

Be the tick, Be the tock
Be the rain as it drops

It's Music by heart
The Magic is complete

You're the melody that soars
Fairys wing, oceans roar

Sing it Low
Sing it High
Let's go dancing in the sky

You're the Harmony that shimmers
Like a star, be the Glimmer

When Rhythm, Melody, and Harmony meet
It's music by heart
The magic is complete
As the sun gives moon light
Lift the song into flight

poem by Jessica Millsaps
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Dead!

Hush! or you'll wake her. Softly tread!
She slumbers in her little bed.
What do I see? A coffin! Dead?
Yes, dead at break of morning.

No, no, it cannot, cannot be!
I know that I can wake her. See!
She only plays at sleep. Ma mie,
Kiss me, for it is morning.

Look, pretty, look! Within, without,
Snowdrops and hyacinths lie about.
Why don't you clutch them with a shout
Blither than birds of morning?

You used to clap your hands with glee,
When I brought flowers. ``Are these for me?''
Now, now, you neither scent nor see
These incense-buds of morning.

Do you not know me, pet? Speak! speak!
There is no answer in her cheek.
To find her now where shall I seek?-
Seek in the vanished morning!

What can I do to make her heed?
I am crying, love; I am indeed.
Open your eyes and see. What need
To tease me all the morning?

Look! We will sally forth and play;
Ramble, and never ask our way,
Lessons and tasks all put away,
As though it were not morning.

We will do all that you desire,
And I will never, never tire
Of romping with you by the fire,
When 'tis no longer morning.

Your favourite tales, oft told before,
I'll tell you, darling, o'er and o'er;
It never shall be bedtime more,
Will you but wake this morning.

I will not ask you to sit still;
You shall be naughty when you will;
Shall spill my ink and spoil my quill,
And squander all my morning.

Alas! Alas! it is no cheat!
Quiet she lies from face to feet!
No smile, no sigh, no hue, no heat,
No earnest of the morning.

Draw high the sheet above her head.
She liked it, so. Dead? No, not dead.
The angels, hovering round her bed,
Will greet her in the morning.

poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

You Have Cast Your Spell...

Is It Magic?

I know not why I love.
Have you cast your spell of magic,
that makes this so?

I have taken to notice, the magic
that is life. Is that you? Is it
your magic that makes me so aware?

You are part of my entire being.
Is this also, your magic at work?

There's a song in my heart, and a
spring in my step. Is it magic?
Is it love? Magic? Love? Both?

When apart I feel a loss. Is
it your magic, that compels me
to miss you so?

The Magic of your kiss. The Magic of
your voice. The Magic of your touch.
If it is magic, I am completely
and willing, under your spell.

Can I live but a day, without the
love of your magic? No. Not
a day, or a minute, or one second
for all eternity.

I have never felt this way before.
Nor will I ever again, without
the cloak of your magic.

You are, and always will be,
My Magic Lady.

Yes...yes, most will say it is
love. Love perhaps.
Magic? Definitely.

poem by Joe Fazio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

It's Love! Magic!