You shall go with me, newly-married bride,And gaze upon a merrier multitude.White-armed Nuala, Aengus of the Birds,Feachra of the hurtling form, and himWho is the ruler of the Western Host,Finvara, and their Land of Heart's Desire.Where beauty has no ebb, decay no flood,But joy is wisdom, time an endless song.
quote by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Master Piece
watch as the sky turn to blue and the ocean
turn to gray, nay all have come to meet
the clouds, the distance calls only its name
and the wave paddle the stone to form a
tiny pebble teasing the current for the fish
to swim
a pure gem, glitter as the sun shape the color
to form, yet the shape capture the eyes on
what beauty it possess, until the endless passion
of the heart comes to ponder the calling desire
to hold beyond the trembling fingers of
satisfaction to die
all have the infinite lord to what the design
of the heart unfold, for nothing that behold with
out the greatest mind that foretold the meaning
of something; for seeing beyond is a cost to pay,
even the end is not enough to lay the beginning
of the hands
the lips murmur as the eyes wanton the endless
desire to end.....
poem by Antonio Liao
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The Fairy Bridal-Hymn
[This is the hymn to Eleanor, daughter of Mab and a golden drone, sung by the Locust choir when the fairy child marries her God, the yellow rose]
This is a song to the white-armed one
Cold in the breast as the frost-wrapped Spring,
Whose feet are slow on the hills of life,
Whose round mouth rules by whispering.
This is a song to the white-armed one
Whose breast shall burn as a Summer field,
Whose wings shall rise to the doors of gold,
Whose poppy lips to the God shall yield.
This is a song to the white-armed one
When the closing rose shall bind her fast,
And a song of the song their blood shall sing,
When the Rose-God drinks her soul at last.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Ode to the female form
Ode to the female form
~
A song of beauty plays
to the tune of desire
striking a note in the soul
a look into the mind seduces
a song ode to the female form
soft, delicate, sensual
alive with every feeling
serenades aloud to be heard
play on sweet song
enter the soul and mind
with a beauty known
as woman kind
poem by Matthew Holloway
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To His Heart, Bidding It Have No Fear
BE you still, be you still, trembling heart;
Remember the wisdom out of the old days:
Him who trembles before the flame and the flood,
And the winds that blow through the starry ways,
Let the starry winds and the flame and the flood
Cover over and hide, for he has no part
With the lonely, majestical multitude.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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To The Land
To the land of bribes,
To the land of telephones,
To the land of corruptions,
To the land of trains,
To the land of shops,
To the land of thieves,
To the land of connections,
To the land of drugs,
To the land of trucks,
To the land of cats,
To the land of Banks,
To the land of dogs, To the land of footballers,
To the land of dragons,
To the land of hope,
To the land of ice-cream,
To the land of potatoes,
To the land of chocolates,
To the land of tomatoes,
To the land of apples,
To the land of coffee,
To the land of lights,
To the land of ships,
To the land of birds,
To the land of tigers,
To the land of carpets,
To the land of pillows,
To the land of lions,
TO the land of toys,
To the land of horses,
To the land of beds,
To the land of roses,
To the land of love,
To the land of passion,
To the land of romance;
I never new women do snore until i married one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Given in Marriage unto Thee
817
Given in Marriage unto Thee
Oh thou Celestial Host—
Bride of the Father and the Son
Bride of the Holy Ghost.
Other Betrothal shall dissolve—
Wedlock of Will, decay—
Only the Keeper of this Ring
Conquer Mortality—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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From Engagement Night To Wedding Night
engagement night was glorious picture postcard
soft snowfall paints cityscape all virgin white
with new hope wonder as heaven celebrates
promise of union in youth beauty new clothes
shines in smiles pleasure happiness radiant
marriage was virgin bride coach ride fairytale
to wedding house vows signed pledge flowers
wedding night finally our wine glasses raised
only her sister bridesmaid boyfriend best man
accompany bride groom in last heartfelt toast
tears of sister bridesmaid depart into night
alone marital bed awaits in rose scent beauty
rice amid sheets rose petals pillow covers
time is slow dance rapture waits two patient
beauty of this night is life dream savoured
time time is all to hold to kiss to wonder
to stare into heart's eyes soul's mirror desire
to love beauty of elegant grace soft sensual skin
slow patient in love's embrace is lovers time
time taken rivers emotion flows consummation
in dreams shared sleep shared, coupled loves embrace
days in dream land soft do pass, slow time without haste
days when hunger comes forgotten, to eat hours postponed
rapture of heart's desire quenches, bodies hunger pained
a week wandering garden Eden, naked purity heaven missed
poem by Terence George Craddock
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A Greek Wedding
Flowers are white
They were everywhere
the bride went
People in white robes stood around
the bride
singing a farewell song
I cried.
The bride then stepped
out towards the alter
with her mother
The father was unfaithful
They didn't mind
The people kept singing
the farewell song
I cried.
(October 9,1997)
poem by Sangnam Nam
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A Mirage
Were I thy bride,
Then the whole world beside
Were not too wide
To hold my wealth of love -
Were I thy bride!
Upon thy breast
My loving head would rest,
As on her nest
The tender turtle-dove -
Were I thy bride!
This heart of mine
Would be one heart with thine,
And in that shrine
Our happiness would dwell -
Were I thy bride!
And all day long
Our lives should be a song:
No grief, no wrong
Should make my heart rebel -
Were I thy bride!
The silvery flute,
The melancholy lute,
Were night-owl's hoot
To my low-whispered coo -
Were I thy bride!
The skylark's trill
Were but discordance shrill
To the soft thrill
Of wooing as I'd woo -
Were I thy bride!
The rose's sigh
Were as a carrion's cry
To lullaby
Such as I'd sing to thee -
Were I thy bride!
A feather's press
Were leaden heaviness
To my caress.
But then, unhappily,
I'm not thy bride!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Fix Your Gaze
When you hit your note
Its like you had no choice
I cant resist distractions web
When you use that voice
On a crowded stage
I play soliloquy
Im at the center of the earth
When you gaze on me
The familiar ring of the native drums
Sometimes I hardly recognize it
Inspiration comes
With the tip of my mind
Holding back the sea
I have no choice but to prevail
When you gaze on me
Ive got the ghost of a new machine
Where I can find reality routine
Every time you fix your gaze on me
When you gaze on me
I feel a ring of fire
When you gaze on me
And I lose all desire
Fix your heart on me
Ill show you what Ive memorized
Fix your gaze on me
I need to see your eyes [uh - good god!]
Out in the cold the assassin waits
Armored by love no sword can penetrate
Every time you fix your heart on me
Im a new machine
Where I can find reality routine
Every time you fix your gaze on me
song performed by by Utopia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Byron among the ruins of Greece
[A SCHOOL COMPOSITION.]
On what sweet shore the blue AEgean laves,
Where loveliness is wedded to decay, --
Beauty to desolation, -- 'mid the graves
Of an immortal race, and ruins, gray
With the dim veil of years, a sleeper lay; --
And in his dream, Time's never-ebbing tide
Rolled back, and bore him to that earlier day,
When Greece was decked in beauty, like a bride,
Glory upon her path and freedom by her side.
Against the radiance of her azure sky,
Rose many a pillared fane, divinely wrought,
Whose marble forms defied mortality; --
There pale Philosophy unveiled, and taught
Her mystic lore, and waged her war of thought,
And all her bright and baseless visions wove; --
There Art her never-dying treasures brought:
He saw Apelles' glowing canvas move,
And at Pygmalion's prayer the statue wake to love.
Then came her bards, her orators and sages; --
Once more he heard those voices that had rung
Down through the vista of succeeding ages:
"The blind old bard of Scio's isle" there strung
His matchless lyre, and breathed the earliest song:
And now Demosthenes before him stood,
Pouring his tide of eloquence, that strong,
Deep and o'erwhelming, swayed the multitude,
As the invisible wind sways the wild ocean's flood.
Armed warriors too were there, their helmets gleaming
On deathless Marathon's green, sea-girt plain,
That now with Persia's choicest blood was streaming:
Thermopylae's "three hundred" fought again;
Again its pass was piled with countless slain,
From the invader's host, as on that day
When Sparta's bravest sons had vowed to drain
Their heart's best blood for her. There, as he lay,
These glorious visions passed, in beautiful array.
The dreamer woke, -- he rested there alone,
By that high temple whence had Pallas fled:
Where once she lingered, now the crescent shone,
And round him wandered many a turbanned head,
Treading in mockery o'er the immortal dead;
And conscious Nature there, as if to screen
The nakedness of Ruin, had ouspread
Her gayest flowers to deck her saddest scene,
And hung, o'er mouldering walls, her tapestry of green.
And many a Grecian slave to Turkish foe
In hopeless bondage bowed the unwilling knee,
And, all too weak to strike the avenging blow,
To rend the galling chains of slavery,
And write their names once more among the free,
But humbled in despair, unmoved behold
Their shrine defaced, their altars borne away,
By every plunderer, even the hallowed mould
Of Marathon itself, exchanged for foreign gold.
And as he mused upon her buried worth,
'Mid her fallen columns and her ruined fanes, --
That none were there to lead her children forth;
To strike with them, and burst their servile chains,
And with their blood to wash away the stains
That their great name on Freedom's record dyed, --
He touched his harp, and the enchanting strains,
The world was hushed to hear -- and then aside
Bade Poesy retire, and made sad Greece his bride.
A fitting bride for one like him, who stood
On that high steep, where few have dared their flight;
Against whose name Time's all resistless flood
Shall dash in vain; who, through decay and blight
And desolation, dazzled with the light
That fast consumed him, where he stood on high,
Like a lone star on the dark brow of night: --
He sleeps upon that shore -- a Grecian sky,
For a high soul like his, were fitting canopy.
Rest, warrior bard! Above thy head shall bloom
The greenest laurel of Peneus' tide; --
Genius shall come a pilgrim to thy tomb,
And for her champion Freedom turn aside,
To weep the bitter tears she may not hide;
And thy young handmaid, Poesy, shall shed
Her brightest halo there; and Greece, thy bride,
Shall give to thee (and oh, can more be said!)
A name to live with hers -- a home among her Dead.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Believe In You.... Dear
life is full of meaning that only you and i can tell
everything we share and take, is just but a memories
to remember, that we have partake, the pain and joy is
an experienced of life, a thing to ponder, that we live
is not a journey of lossing oneself but a giving of the best
in you, in giving we learn to live again
life has no contenment it is in our heart that makes it
satisfying to live, for in dying oneself we learn that giving is
something most value of what our soul cherish, our heart desire
to live of what is love, but only in giving that we die
life desire the best to live, for in you, i learn to die, a painful life
encounter of my soul, it is in giving of what is dying that the
meaning of existence is dying the most value in you
your not an angel that i forsake, not even God whom i adore,
nor the master of myself that i respect, or a designer of my
destiny, yet your the wisdom of time that makes me what i am
life that i live with you, is but a searcher of who iam in you, in the
universe, in the moment of time where i exist, your something
that my soul can't resist......
a light that transcent beyond my sight
a sky that i can reach and touch
a horizon of rays that only i can feel
a beauty that flows within my soul
a wisdom that only you can whisper in my heart
a voice of en endless time that tells me that i am not alone
life we take in our journey to the beyond time, is wonderful, and the
answer of fate we meet is a beginning of our unending committment
to live where it ends
poem by Antonio Liao
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New Aceh Sunlight
Aceh sun
sunshine burn my husk
is brittle
from open plane door
high wind, dry befall the face
homesick of native land
I walk among they
parrying homesick by myself
new leave taking the children
and wife
but I hold up because wishing to tread
at land; ground cleft newly
trying to trace the face
on the chance of newly
peace from endless conflict
your humanity
of the same nation
poem by Prasetya Utama
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A Question To My Lover
what is it that i
desire really from you?
is it your body?
is it your wisdom?
is it your time?
is it your concern?
i have tasted
every skin of your body
i have taken much
of your time
i have listened from
your wisdom
i have much of your
care
and yet i am still
empty
i have consumed you
like bread and
have drunk you like
a glass of wine
yet there is still something
that i desire from you
and yet i still do not know
or is it that it is not
really you that i desire
but someone else?
and how many more?
yes how many more
shall i waste and yet find
no answer?
will you finally kill me at
the end of this
betrayal?
what is it that i desire?
self, tell me now.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Time I've Lost
The time I've lost in wooing,
In watching and pursuing
The light that lies
In woman's eyes,
Has been my heart's undoing.
Tho' Wisdom oft has sought me,
I scorn'd the lore she brought me,
My only books
Were women's looks,
And folly's all they taught me.
Her smile when Beauty granted,
I hung with gaze enchanted,
Like him the Sprite
Whom maids by night
Oft meet in glen that's haunted.
Like him, too, Beauty won me;
But when the spell was on me,
If once their ray
Was turn'd away,
O! winds could not outrun me.
And are those follies going?
And is my proud heart growing
Too cold or wise
For brillant eyes
Again to set it glowing?
No -- vain, alas! th' endeavour
From bonds so sweet to sever: --
Poor Wisdom's chance
Against a glance
Is now as weak as ever.
poem by Thomas Moore
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O Beauty of Night...
As the golden sun goes to rest,
And the sky drape into black blanket,
Now take your turn
O beauty of Night – Moon.
Variety of moods makes me wonder,
Sometimes you look like circular disc,
At times spongy ball of cotton
O beauty of Night – Moon.
Eyes long to catch the glimpse,
Hands reach to hold you,
Lips hum song for you,
O beauty of Night – Moon.
Play not hide & seek,
Cover not behind the dark cloud
Unveil your beauty for me to gaze
O beauty of Night – Moon.
Cool gentle breeze blowing in silent night
Urge my heart to
Bathe in the white beam
O beauty of Night - Moon.
Reflection of my love I see in you
Fall down from the starry sky
To hold you in my arms
O beauty of Night – Moon.
poem by Geeta Nair
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Health
Four miles at a leap, over the dark hollow land,
To the frosted steep of the down and its junipers black,
Travels my eye with equal ease and delight:
And scarce could my body leap four yards.
This is the best and the worst of it -
Never to know,
Yet to imagine gloriously, pure health.
To-day, had I suddenly health,
I could not satisfy the desire of my heart
Unless health abated it,
So beautiful is the air in its softness and clearness, while
Spring
Promises all and fails in nothing as yet;
And what blue and what white is I never knew
Before I saw this sky blessing the land.
For had I health I could not ride or run or fly
So far or so rapidly over the land
As I desire: I should reach Wiltshire tired;
I should have changed my mind before I could be in Wales.
I could not love; I could not command love.
beauty would still be far off
However many hills I climbed over;
Peace would still be farther.
Maybe I should not count it anything
To leap these four miles with the eye;
And either I should not be filled almost to bursting with desire,
Or with my power desire would still keep pace.
Yet I am not satisfied
Even with knowing I never could be satisfied.
With health and all the power that lies
In maiden beauty, poet and warrior,
In Caesar, Shakespeare, Alcibiades,
Mazeppa, Leonardo, Michelangelo,
In any maiden whose smile is lovelier
Than sunlight upon dew,
I could not be as the wagtail running up and down
The warm tiles of the roof slope, twittering
Happily and sweetly as if the sun itself
Extracted the song
As the hand makes sparks from the fur of a cat:
I could not be as the sun.
Nor should I be content to be
As little as the bird or as mighty as the sun.
For the bird knows not the sun,
And the sun regards not the bird.
But I am almost proud to love both bird and sun,
Though scarce this Spring could my body leap four yards.
poem by Edward Thomas
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The Land Before God
Land of pink sky and blue sun,
green bed of swamps and marsh.
Monsters from another age
roam and dispel their wrath,
tyrannosaurus, brontosaurus, Woolly Mammoth.
Heat and flying things,
wing their way in an endless spring.
Land of grotesque and monstrous mould,
ever changing shapes behold.
Paradise with promise of future things,
filled with bellowing monstrous song,
teem with life, land and sea.
The stench of death hangs over thee.
Night’s darkness brings another day.
Land of cold and wintry white
moves southward slowly day and night.
Places hot, now white and cold,
creatures frozen in monstrous mould.
Land, pale, shadow of death,
now hangs over all.
None will escape deaths paw.
Marks on a sandy beach,
small with explicit air,
life begins again from there.
Life minute of crystal form,
changing by night and daily storm.
Life, small and microscopic,
crawls on beaches north and tropic.
Circle of form begins again,
from tiny and invisible germs.
Life on land and sea again teem.
Millions upon millions breeding frame.
World of blue and grass green hill.
The land before god
is teeming still.
poem by David Harris
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The Bell that Tolls
A multitude of shooting stars,
Befalling on a placid harbour
In an alien land,
Render the brave hearts
Into sitting ducks
That leaves me in knee-deep tears.
With a wink-less gaze
I look for the Northern Star
In the midst of a multitude
That shall guide me
From the wilderness
To a safe shore.
The bell that tolls intermittently
Atop the dome,
Echoing through the
Cobwebbed corridors of my being,
Drags me to the doorstep
Of the city cathedral.
A Song About You
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
You’re all I can every think about
How you flood my dreams each night
How thinking of you takes my breath away
When I look up to the satellites
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
The long lost butterflies returned
How I hope my number you’ll dial
And how your memory smothers me with smiles
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
You were the only one
Who had enough of me to break my heart
And when love took over my heart
You tore it all apart.
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
I would write about how
I gave you my heart
Caught up in the thought
That we were off to a great start
But how you threw a damn dart
Right into the center of my heart
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
About how you crushed my heart
Not bothering to look back.
If I could write a song
I’d write a song about you
poem by Jess Schwarcz
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