Alas! Alas! Life is full of disappointments; as one reaches one ridge there is always another and a higher one beyond which blocks the view.
quote by Fridtjof Nansen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ay Me, Ay Me, I Sigh the Scythe A-field
Ay me, ay me, I sigh to see the scythe a-field;
Down goeth the grass, soon wrought to wither'd hay:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that beauty needs must yield,
And princes pass, as grass doth fade away.
Ay me, ay me, that life can not have lasting leave,
Nor gold take hold of everlasting joy:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that time hath talents to receive,
And yet no time can make a suer stay.
Ay me, ay me, that wit can not have wished choice,
Nor wish can win that will desires to see:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that mirth can promise no rejoice,
Nor study tell what afterward shall be.
Ay me, ay me, that no sure staff is given to age,
Nor age can give sure wit that youth will take:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that no counsel wise and sage
Will shun the show that all doth mar and make.
Ay me, ay me, come, Time, shear on and shake thy hay,
It is no boot to balk thy bitter blows:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, come, Time, take everything away,
For all is thine, be it good or bad, that grows.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Story
They met each other in the glade –
She lifted up her eyes;
Alack the day! Alack the maid!
She blushed in swift surprise.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from lifting up the eyes.
The pail was full, the path was steep –
He reached to her his hand;
She felt her warm young pulses leap,
But did not understand.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from clasping hand with hand.
She sat beside him in the wood –
He wooed with words and sighs;
Ah! love in spring seems sweet and good,
And maidens are not wise.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from listing lovers’ sighs.
The summer sun shone fairly down,
The wind blew from the south;
As his blue eyes gazed in eyes of brown,
His kiss fell on her mouth.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from kisses on the mouth.
And now the autumn time is near,
The lover roves away,
With breaking heart and falling tear,
She sits the livelong day.
Alas! Alas! for breaking hearts when lovers rove away.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Think For Things
greed you think of things
alas things degenerate
greed you think less of others
alas you tinker with things
greed you think less with sense
alas you kill your neighbour
gree you abhor with your thoughts
alas you make cultures perish
greed you are embodiment of evil
alas unsatiable are are your wants
poem by Venkatesh Ram
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Corn Grinders
O little mouse, why dost thou cry
While merry stars laugh in the sky?
Alas! alas! my lord is dead!
Ah, who will ease my bitter pain?
He went to seek a millet-grain
In the rich farmer's granary shed;
They caught him in a baited snare,
And slew my lover unaware:
Alas! alas! my lord is dead.
O little deer, why dost thou moan,
Hid in thy forest-bower alone?
Alas! alas! my lord is dead!
Ah! who will quiet my lament?
At fall of eventide he went
To drink beside the river-head;
A waiting hunter threw his dart,
And struck my lover through the heart.
Alas! alas! my lord is dead.
O little bride, why dost thou weep
With all the happy world asleep?
Alas! alas! my lord is dead!
Ah, who will stay these hungry tears,
Or still the want of famished years,
And crown with love my marriage-bed?
My soul burns with the quenchless fire
That lit my lover's funeral pyre:
Alas! alas! my lord is dead.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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A Friend's Song for Simoisius
The breath of dew, and twilight's grace,
Be on the lonely battle-place;
And to so young, so kind a face,
The long, protecting grasses cling!
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
In rocky hollows cool and deep,
The bees our boyhood hunted sleep;
The early moon from Ida's steep
Comes to the empty wrestling-ring.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
Upon the widowed wind recede
No echoes of the shepherd's reed,
And children without laughter lead
The war-horse to the watering.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
Thou stranger Ajax Telamon!
What to the loveliest hast thou done,
That ne'er with him a maid may run
Across the marigolds in spring?
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
With footstep separate and slow
The father and the mother go,
Not now upon an urn they know
To mingle tears for comforting.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
The world to me has nothing dear
Beyond the namesake river here:
O Simois is wild and clear!
And to his brink my heart I bring;
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
My heart no more, if that might be
Would stay his waters from the sea,
To cover Troy, to cover me,
To save us from the perishing.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)
poem by Louise Imogen Guiney
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Alas, Love, Alas
And now i'm dismissed
I don't know what the love is
If there always will be tears
And the souls never will find the peace
Why the lovers had became so cruel and insensible
Who can bear all these
Are these the new rules of the love?
Even the love changed it's face
Alas, love, Alas
If the humanity's cruelty
Even changed your face
Nothing in this world will stay the same
Alas, world, Alas
Step back my soul
let's live in peace alone
While the meaning of real love is missed
How the world can be so unreal
Even the love changed it's face
Alas, Love, Alas
If the Humanity's cruelty
Even changed your face
Alas, world, Alas
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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Alas my Rose
Alas my rose
Stole my youth years
I love the hands were
Happened to me does not smell roses
Alas Alas rose my rose
I do not know my carpet what happens when
I've been nomadic cranes
I had ants on the road
I remember one dear
Alas Alas rose rose
Did not hurt me cruel...
Weird strange world
I got called in Konya
Shabby wrote my tag
Oh, my dear rose rose
Was not keep my hands, slice..
İnce waist, did not hold
friend not formed into the hands of
I do not get Muradiye
Rose Alas, alas rose
My arm was broken wings..
sabit ince Kayseri 05/10/2012
poem by Sabit Ince
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Elegy in a Country Churchyard
The men that worked for England
They have their graves at home:
And bees and birds of England
About the cross can roam.
But they that fought for England,
Following a falling star,
Alas, alas for England
They have their graves afar.
And they that rule in England,
In stately conclave met,
Alas, alas for England,
They have no graves as yet.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Elegy in a Country Churchyard
The men that worked for England
They have their graves at home:
And bees and birds of England
About the cross can roam.
But they that fought for England,
Following a falling star,
Alas, alas for England
They have their graves afar.
And they that rule in England,
In stately conclave met,
Alas, alas for England,
They have no graves as yet.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tender Buttons [Chicken]
CHICKEN.
Pheasant and chicken, chicken is a peculiar third.
CHICKEN.
Alas a dirty word, alas a dirty third alas a dirty third, alas a dirty bird.
CHICKEN.
Alas a doubt in case of more go to say what it is cress. What is it. Mean. Why. Potato. Loaves.
CHICKEN.
Stick stick call then, stick stick sticking, sticking with a chicken. Sticking in a extra succession, sticking in.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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Upon The Image Of Death
Before my face the picture hangs
That daily should put me in mind
Of those cold names and bitter pangs
That shortly I am like to find;
But yet, alas, full little I
Do think hereon that I must die.
I often look upon a face
Most ugly, grisly, bare, and thin;
I often view the hollow place
Where eyes and nose had sometimes been;
I see the bones across that lie,
Yet little think that I must die.
I read the label underneath,
That telleth me whereto I must;
I see the sentence eke that saith
Remember, man, that thou art dust!
But yet, alas, but seldom I
Do think indeed that I must die.
Continually at my bed's head
A hearse doth hang, which doth me tell
That I ere morning may be dead,
Though now I feel myself full well ;
But yet, alas, for all this, I
Have little mind that I must die.
The gown which I do use to wear,
The knife wherewith I cut my meat,
And eke that old and ancient chair
Which is my only usual seat,-
All these do tell me I must die,
And yet my life amend not I.
My ancestors are turned to clay,
And many of my mates are gone;
My youngers daily drop away,
And can I think to 'scape alone?
No, no, I know that I must die,
And yet my life amend not I.
Not Solomon for all his wit,
Nor Samson, though he were so strong,
No king nor person ever yet
Could 'scape but death laid him along;
Wherefore I know that I must die,
And yet my life amend not I.
Though all the East did quake to hear
Of Alexander's dreadful name,
And all the West did likewise fear
To hear of Julius Caesar's fame,
Yet both by death in dust now lie;
Who then can 'scape but he must die?
If none can 'scape death's dreadful dart,
If rich and poor his beck obey,
If strong, if wise, if all do smart,
Then I to 'scape shall have no way.
Oh, grant me grace, O God, that I
My life may mend, sith I must die.
poem by Robert Southwell
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Alas
Alas, I fell for your words
For your tongue, for your verse
How it hurts
How it hurts that I fell for your words
Ambiguous
Easily versed
Mysterious
Can’t get much worse
Don’t ever start with ‘alas’
It’s crass
Alas, its passed
I'm done.
At last.
poem by Peggy Pollock
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If Only
If only I could write such words
As men whose hearts and minds were full
Of life's great prize,
Oh but alas, my eyes
Have been pulled o'er with wool.
If only I could see as they,
And feel the freshness of the breeze;
And soar and fly
Oh but alas, I
Cannot see the wood for trees.
If only I could plainly pour out
From my soul, what there exists;
Write, and be free
But no, you see
A veil is drawn just like a mist.
If only I could break the chains
And then unlock the heavy door;
Burst through and shout:
'I AM LET OUT'
I only wish it could be so.
Written Sept 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XVIII
Alas, poor Queen of Beauty! In my heart
I could weep for you and your sad graceless doom.
You stand at my life's threshold in the part
Of king's chief jester in the ante--room,
And none more near the throne. You made us sport
According to your folly, and passed on,
And now you live with pension in Love's Court,
And privilege to jest and wear the crown.
Yes, I could weep for you. Your part it was
To strike the cymbals on a night sublime
For Love's first bridal dance. Alas, alas!
Time, the avenger of our manhood's prime,
Is gathering all life courtiers to his cell,
And you among the rest. So fare you well.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Alas! What a wretched life is this!
Alas! What a wretched life is this!
Nay what a death! Where tyrant Love commandeth!
My flow’ring days are in their prime declining,
All my proud hope quite fall’n, and life untwining,
My joys each after other, in haste are flying,
And leave me dying for her that scorns my crying.
Oh she from hence departs, my love refraining,
For whom, all heartless alas! I die complaining.
poem by John Wilbye
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Mourning
Alas my brother! the cry of the mourners of old
That cried on each other,
All crying aloud on the dead as the death-note rolled,
Alas my brother!
As flashes of dawn that mists from an east wind smother
With fold upon fold,
The past years gleam that linked us one with another.
Time sunders hearts as of brethren whose eyes behold
No more their mother:
But a cry sounds yet from the shrine whose fires wax cold,
Alas my brother!
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Rubaiyat 34
Your eyes enrapture, and colors pour,
Alas, your love’s arrows score.
Too soon you gave up on the lovers,
Alas, your heart has rocks in store.
poem by Shams al-Din Hafiz
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From Four Saints in Three Acts
Pigeons on the grass alas.
Pigeons on the grass alas.
Short longer grass short longer longer shorter yellow grass. Pigeons
large pigeons on the shorter longer yellow grass alas pigeons on the
grass.
If they were not pigeons what were they.
If they were not pigeons on the grass alas what were they. He had
heard of a third and he asked about if it was a magpie in the sky.
If a magpie in the sky on the sky can not cry if the pigeon on the
grass alas can alas and to pass the pigeon on the grass alas and the
magpie in the sky on the sky and to try and to try alas on the
grass alas the pigeon on the grass the pigeon on the grass and alas.
They might be very well they might be very well very well they might
be.
Let Lucy Lily Lily Lucy Lucy let Lucy Lucy Lily Lily Lily Lily
Lily let Lily Lucy Lucy let Lily. Let Lucy Lily.
poem by Gertrude Stein
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The Water Lady
Alas, the moon should ever beam
To show what man should never see!—
I saw a maiden on a stream,
And fair was she!
I staid awhile, to see her throw
Her tresses black, that all beset
The fair horizon of her brow
With clouds of jet.
I staid a little while to view
Her cheek, that wore in place of red
The bloom of water, tender blue,
Daintily spread.
I staid to watch, a little space,
Her parted lips if she would sing;
The waters closed above her face
With many a ring.
And still I staid a little more,
Alas! she never comes again!
I throw my flowers from the shore,
And watch in vain.
I know my life will fade away,
I know that I must vainly pine,
For I am made of mortal clay,
But she's divine!
poem by Thomas Hood
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But, alas! what poor Woman is ever taught that she should have a higher Design than to get her a Husband?
quote by Mary Astell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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