En.Citatepedia^®.ro

O Death, rock me asleep, bring me to quiet rest, let pass my weary guiltless ghost out of my careful breast.

quote by Anne Boleyn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O Death, O Death, Rock Me Asleep

O Death, O Death, rock me asleep,
Bring me to quiet rest;
Let pass my weary guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.

My pains, my pains, who can express?
Alas, they are so strong!
My dolours will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.

Alone, alone in prison strong
I wail my destiny:
Woe worth this cruel hap that I
Must taste this misery!
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.

Farewell, farewell, my pleasures past!
Welcome, my present pain!
I feel my torment so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now, thou passing bell,
Ring out my doleful knoll,
For thou my death dost tell:
Lord, pity thou my soul!
Death doth draw nigh,
Sound dolefully:
For now I die,
I die, I die.

poem by Anonymous
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O Death, O Death, Rock Me Asleep

O Death, O Death, rock me asleep,
Bring me to quiet rest;
Let pass my weary guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.

My pains, my pains, who can express?
Alas, they are so strong!
My dolours will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong.
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.

Alone, alone in prison strong
I wail my destiny:
Woe worth this cruel hap that I
Must taste this misery!
Toll on, thou passing bell;
Ring out my doleful knell;
Thy sound my death abroad will tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy.

Farewell, farewell, my pleasures past!
Welcome, my present pain!
I feel my torment so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now, thou passing bell,
Ring out my doleful knoll,
For thou my death dost tell:
Lord, pity thou my soul!
Death doth draw nigh,
Sound dolefully:
For now I die,
I die, I die.

poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O death, rock me on sleep

O death! rock me on sleep,
Bring me on quiet rest;
Yet pass my guiltless ghost
Out of my careful breast:
Toll on the passing bell,
Ring out the doleful knell,
Let the sound of my death tell,
For I must die,
There is no remedy,
For now I die.

My pains who can express?
Alas! they are so strong,
My dolor will not suffer strength
My life for to prolong:
Toll on the passing bell, etc.

Alone, in prison strong,
I wail my destiny,
Wo worth this cruel hap that I
Should taste this misery:
Toll on the passing bell, etc.

Farewell my pleasures past,
Welcome my present pain;
I feel my torments so increase
That life cannot remain.
Cease now the passing bell,
Rung is my doleful knell,
For the sound my death doth tell,
Death doth draw nigh,
Sound my end dolefully,
For now I die.

poem by Anne Boleyn (1536)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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A Rock In A Weary Land

My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
None of this moves me,
I should be weeping but it only hurts when I yawn
I let it blow through me, and its gone!
Im dressed like a scarecrow
Stripped of all my power, as if some judge in judgement said
Off with his great coat, and his head!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Meaningless movies
On the screen behind the band thats blowing flowing shapes
Half of their music is on tape
My mentor and champion is busy tilting at the windows of his stately home
The daemon hes grappling
Is his own!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
His letter lies open
His accusations flow like poison from his every word
My heart would be broken, but for her
The fag-end of winter
Im in shock! Im on the ropes! I dont know whats become!
She plucks the splinter from my thumb
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
In the weary land!
My rock in a weary land
My rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land
Hey!
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land!

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock In The Weary Land

My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
None of this moves me,
I should be weeping but it only hurts when I yawn
I let it blow through me, and its gone!
Im dressed like a scarecrow
Stripped of all my power, as if some judge in judgement said
Off with his great coat, and his head!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Meaningless movies
On the screen behind the band thats blowing flowing shapes
Half of their music is on tape
My mentor and champion is busy tilting at the windows of his stately home
The daemon hes grappling
Is his own!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
His letter lies open
His accusations flow like poison from his every word
My heart would be broken, but for her
The fag-end of winter
Im in shock! Im on the ropes! I dont know whats become!
She plucks the splinter from my thumb
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
In the weary land!
My rock in a weary land
My rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land
Hey!
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land!

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rock In The Weary Land

My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
None of this moves me,
I should be weeping but it only hurts when I yawn
I let it blow through me, and its gone!
Im dressed like a scarecrow
Stripped of all my power, as if some judge in judgement said
Off with his great coat, and his head!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Meaningless movies
On the screen behind the band thats blowing flowing shapes
Half of their music is on tape
My mentor and champion is busy tilting at the windows of his stately home
The daemon hes grappling
Is his own!
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
His letter lies open
His accusations flow like poison from his every word
My heart would be broken, but for her
The fag-end of winter
Im in shock! Im on the ropes! I dont know whats become!
She plucks the splinter from my thumb
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
Yes my love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
My love is my rock
In the long, low, weary land
In the weary land!
My rock in a weary land
My rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land
Hey!
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
A rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
My love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock is my love is my rock in a weary land
In a weary land!

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Love Is My Rock In The Weary Land

My love is my rock in the long low weary land
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
Yes my love is my rock in the long low weary land
None of this moves me
I should be weeping but it only hurts when I yawn
I let it blow through me and it's gone
I'm dressed like a scarecrow
stripped of all my power as if some judge in judgement said
"Off with his greatcoat and his head !"
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
Meaningless movies
on the screen behind the band that's blowing, throwing shapes
Half of the music is on tape
My mentor and champion
is busy tilting at the windmills of his stately home
The demon he's grappling is his own
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
His letter lies open
His accusations flow like poison from his every word
My heart would be broken but for Her
The fag-end of winter
I'm in shock, I'm on the ropes, I don't know what's to come
She plucks the splinter from my thumb
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
My love is my rock in the long low weary land
Yes my love is my rock in the long low weary land
In the weary land

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wanderer's Night Songs. (From Goethe)

I.
Thou that from the heavens art,
Every pain and sorrow stillest,
And the doubly wretched heart
Doubly with refreshment fillest,
I am weary with contending!
Why this rapture and unrest?
Peace descending
Come ah, come into my breast!

II.
O'er all the hill-tops
Is quiet now,
In all the tree-tops
Hearest thou
Hardly a breath;
The birds are asleep in the trees:
Wait; soon like these
Thou too shalt rest.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Supplication

I am so tired and weary,
So tired of the endless fight,
So weary of waiting the dawn
And finding endless night.

That I ask but rest and quiet--
Rest for days that are gone,
And quiet for the little space
That I must journey on.

poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When Am I Going To Rest

When am I going to rest?
When I'm going to fetch water
You are on my back
When I'm going to fetch firewood
You are on my back
Oh! When am I going to rest?

When am I going to rest?
When I want to rest
You are on my breast
Suckling like a calf
Yet you have little sharpened teeth
I can even scream if you bite my breast.

All you know is to wee wee, eat and cry
Without giving me time to rest
To my breast
You are the pest
Applying pepper might be a pest control
But still I will not rest
Because there is much to do for you
Perhaps death will be my rest.

poem by Walani Ndhlovu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rock The Shack

Ive been accused of everything
From tombuctu to old berlin
I need some armor for my flesh
I need to stop and take a rest
Ive been wide-eyed but couldnt see
I stand accused of being me
I believe in politics
I believe in everything
I believe this world of ours is giving me adrenaline
When I hear a baby cry
When I see an old man die
Thats just the way it is
Rock the shack, rock the shack, rock the shack, rock the shack
Rock the shack, rock the shack, rock the shack, rock the shack
Yeah thats the way it is
I took each day the way it came
I put my future out of frame
The signs were there for all to see
Like blue eyed mind to you and me
My head laid on my beating breast
I swear to you I pass the test
I walked one hundred thousand miles
And youre the judge whos been my trial
? ? ? my trial
I believe in politics
I believe in everything
I believe this world of ours is just a den of vice and sins
And even on the darkest night
We could reach for the light
And we could get it right
Get it right, get it right, get it right, get it right
Get it right, get it right, get it right, get it right
I believe in politics
I believe in everything
I believe this world of ours is giving me adrenaline
Ten thousand year ago
Crawling on the floor
Well get up jack
Its time to rock the shack
Rock the shack, rock the shack, rock the shack, rock the shack
Rock the shack, rock the shack, rock the shack, rock the shack
Its time to get up

song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Villanelle Of Sunset

Come hither, child, and rest,
This is the end of day,
Behold the weary West!

Sleep rounds with equal zest
Man's toil and children's play,
Come hither, child, and rest.

My white bird, seek thy nest,
Thy drooping head down lay,
Behold the weary West!

Now eve is manifest
And homeward lies our way,
Behold the weary West!

Tired flower! upon my breast
I would wear thee alway,
Come hither, child, and rest -
Behold the weary West!

poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Villanelle

Come hither, child, and rest,
This is the end of day,
Behold the weary West!

Sleep rounds with equal zest
Man's toil and children's play,
Come hither, child, and rest.

My white bird, seek thy nest,
Thy drooping head down lay,
Behold the weary West!

Now eve is manifest
And homeward lies our way,
Behold the weary West!

Tired flower! upon my breast
I would wear thee alway,
Come hither, child, and rest -
Behold the weary West!

poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Sweet Pastoral

Good Muse, rock me asleep
With some sweet harmony:
The weary eye is not to keep
Thy wary company.

Sweet Love, begone awhile,
Thou knowest my heaviness:
Beauty is born but to beguile
My heart of happiness.

See how my little flock,
That loved to feed on high,
Do headlong tumble down the rock,
And in the valley die.

The bushes and the trees
That were so fresh and green,
Do all their dainty colour leese,
And not a leaf is seen.

The blackbird and the thrush,
That made the woods to ring,
With all the rest, are now at hush,
And not a note they sing.

Sweet Philomel, the bird
That hath the heavenly throat,
Doth now alas! not once afford
Recording of a note.

The flowers have had a frost,
Each herb hath lost her savour;
And Phyllida the fair hath lost
The comfort of her favour.

Now all these careful sights
So kill me in conceit,
That how to hope upon delights
It is but mere deceit.

And therefore, my sweet Muse,
Thou know'st what help is best;
Do now thy heavenly cunning use
To set my heart at rest;

And in a dream bewray
What fate shall be my friend;
Whether my life shall still decay,
Or when my sorrow end.

poem by Nicholas Breton
Submitted by anonym
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City That Does Not Sleep

In the sky there is nobody asleep. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is asleep.
The creatures of the moon sniff and prowl about their cabins.
The living iguanas will come and bite the men who do not dream,
and the man who rushes out with his spirit broken will meet on the
street corner
the unbelievable alligator quiet beneath the tender protest of the
stars.

Nobody is asleep on earth. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is asleep.
In a graveyard far off there is a corpse
who has moaned for three years
because of a dry countryside on his knee;
and that boy they buried this morning cried so much
it was necessary to call out the dogs to keep him quiet.

Life is not a dream. Careful! Careful! Careful!
We fall down the stairs in order to eat the moist earth
or we climb to the knife edge of the snow with the voices of the dead
dahlias.
But forgetfulness does not exist, dreams do not exist;
flesh exists. Kisses tie our mouths
in a thicket of new veins,
and whoever his pain pains will feel that pain forever
and whoever is afraid of death will carry it on his shoulders.

One day
the horses will live in the saloons
and the enraged ants
will throw themselves on the yellow skies that take refuge in the
eyes of cows.

Another day
we will watch the preserved butterflies rise from the dead
and still walking through a country of gray sponges and silent boats
we will watch our ring flash and roses spring from our tongue.
Careful! Be careful! Be careful!
The men who still have marks of the claw and the thunderstorm,
and that boy who cries because he has never heard of the invention
of the bridge,
or that dead man who possesses now only his head and a shoe,
we must carry them to the wall where the iguanas and the snakes
are waiting,
where the bear's teeth are waiting,
where the mummified hand of the boy is waiting,
and the hair of the camel stands on end with a violent blue shudder.

Nobody is sleeping in the sky. Nobody, nobody.
Nobody is sleeping.
If someone does close his eyes,
a whip, boys, a whip!
Let there be a landscape of open eyes
and bitter wounds on fire.
No one is sleeping in this world. No one, no one.
I have said it before.

No one is sleeping.
But if someone grows too much moss on his temples during the
night,
open the stage trapdoors so he can see in the moonlight
the lying goblets, and the poison, and the skull of the theaters.

poem by Federico García Lorca
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Sigh in the Night

O sweet darkness, still, and calm, and lonely!
Spread thy downy pinions round about.
Spare me from thy hidden riches only
One dream-face; blot all the others out.

Bring him now, for thou hast power to free him,
From that ugly garb he wears by day;
Bring him now—my darling!—let me see him
Ere the tender kindness pass away.

O sweet night-winds, wandering in the larches!
Sigh, and croon, and whisper as you creep;
Sing my songs through green cathedral arches,
While the weary workers are asleep.

Snarl and fret not of the grief and passion;
Sing in minor cadence, sweet and low;
Sing of peace and rest, in soft wind-fashion—
Of the love and faith I used to know!

poem by Ada Cambridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Rock of Cashel

My mother told me on the bus-
about the tumor in her breast.
She told me in that public place
I was stunned; She, self possessed

she was so calm- no hint of fear.
I was floored by what she said
I was very young back then
with limited knowledge of the dead.

Post surgery she did just fine.
It turned out the tumor was benign.
My mom would say “It’s not my time”.-
That was her way. She spoke that line.

She did possess that quiet strength
Bequeathed her from High Kings of old
She was a rock of Christian faith
From which derived her peace of soul.

She had that quiet confidence
Death itself held her in awe
Faith banished any fear of Death
who feared to linger at HER door.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Bring The Noise

Massive mental shouts to the crowd
This is the sound of the underground
Yeah!
Now
The times right to take over
No trace of fear
I can see a swelter
Switch on the lights
Jams hot on mic
We still rock the nation
Thats our reputation
We bring the noise!
We bring the noise!
We bring the noise!
Once again
We got some radical rhythms
Up on the stage
Theres no time to rest
You got to check out
Jams hot on the mic
We still rock the nation
Thats our reputation!
We bring the noise!
We bring the noise!
We bring the noise!

song performed by by Scooter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Dont Mind

Rock-a-rock-a baby
We could rock-a-rock, rock-a-rock-a-rock
Rock-a-rock-a baby
We could rock-a-rock, rock-a-rock-a-rock
Rock-a-rock-a baby
We could rock-a-rock, rock-a-rock-a-rock
Rock-a-rock-a baby
Rock-a-rock-a-rock, rock-a-rock-a-rock
The time is right, no time for games
Gonna make you know my name
When we make love, I want it more
We do the things I never seen before
Baby we can do it fast or very slow
I can love on top or I can love you low
There aint nothing that I would not do for you
Cuz baby, tonight were gonna do what you wanna do
And however you need it
I dont mind if you like
To get together for a while baby, if you like
Give you everything that youll ever need
Cuz baby you bring out the freak in me
I dont mind if you like
To get together by the candlelight tonight
Show you everything, you just wait and see
Cuz baby, you bring out the freak in me
Spend the night
Lets do some things
Lose control, feel no shame
Im feeling you like youre feeling me
Im bout it

song performed by by Ideal
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Camp Within the West

O DID you see a troop go by
Way-weary and oppressed,
Dead kisses on the drooping lip
And a dead heart in the breast?

Yea, I have seen them one by one
Way-weary and oppressed,
And when I asked them, ‘Whither speed?’
They answered, ‘To the West!’

And were they pale as pale could be—
Death-pale with haunted eyes,
And did you see the hot white dust
Range round their feet and rise?

Oh, they were pale as pale could be,
And pale as an embered leaf;
The hot white dust had risen, but
They laid it with their grief.

Did no one say the way is long,
And crave a little rest?
Oh no, they said, ‘The night is nigh,
Our camp is in the West!’

And did pain pierce their feet, as though
The way with thorns were set,
And were they visited by strange
Dark angels of regret?

Oh yea, and some were mute as death,
Though shot by many a dart,
With them the salt of inward tears
Went stinging through the heart.

And how are these wayfarers called,
And whither do they wend?
The Weary-Hearted—and their road
At sunset hath and end.

Shed tears for them…Nay, nay, no tears!
They yearn for endless rest;
Perhaps large stars will burn above
Their camp within the West.

poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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