My great love is my home county of Cornwall, I love to sit and watch people enjoying themselves on the beaches and in the harbour towns of Cornwall.
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It was fantastic to work in Cornwall partly because my family live there so I was able to do lots of visiting and eat lots of cake. They live all over Cornwall and all over Devon.
quote by Dawn French
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I have lived in Cornwall from the age of 4, so I have always been aware of the artistic heritage that the county has. I feel very proud to be able to connect to this.
I never was on the dull, tame shore, But I loved the great sea more and more.
quote by Barry Cornwall
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There's not a wind but whispers of thy name; And not a flow'r that grows beneath the moon, But in its hues and fragrance tells a tale Of thee, my love.
quote by Barry Cornwall
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On my return to Cornwall I discovered that I was living in a tropical paradise. For now I am content to explore my own home and our nearest neighbour France.
It has, therefore, been a favorite boast of the people of Wales and Cornwall, that the original British stock flourishes in its unmixed purity only among them.
quote by Thomas Bulfinch
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Death is the tyrant of the imagination.
quote by Barry Cornwall
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Even Echo speaks not on these radiant moors.
quote by Barry Cornwall
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Pity speaks to grief More sweetly than a band of instruments.
quote by Barry Cornwall
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So mightiest powers buy deepest calms are fed, And sleep, how oft, in things that gentlest be!
quote by Barry Cornwall
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Oh, the summer night, Has a smile of light, And she sits on a sapphire throne.
quote by Barry Cornwall
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All round the room my silent servants wait, My friends in every season, bright and dim.
quote by Barry Cornwall
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The sweetest noise on earth, a woman's tongue; A string which hath no discord.
quote by Barry Cornwall
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O human beauty, what a dream art thou, that we should cast our life and hopes away on thee!
quote by Barry Cornwall
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A Night With You
When I Pick you up, I tell myself I am going to enjoy this night with you,
When we Sit across from each other at dinner, I tell myself I'm enjoying this night with you,
When you hold my hand and we sit and talk, I tell myself I'm enjoying this night with you,
When you are out there on the dance floor I'm watching you move so elegant and sexy, I tell myself I'm enjoying this night with you,
When I come up behind you and turn you around, you look at me with them passion blue eyes, I tell myself I'm enjoying this night with you,
When you kiss me so softly with your sexy silky lip, I tell myself I'm enjoying this night with you,
When it time to take you home I tell myself I'm enjoying this night with you,
When you kiss me good night and I watch you walk away, I tell myself I'm enjoying this night with you,
When I driving home I think to myself, how I enjoy my night with you,
When I laying in bed, wishing that I can enjoy the rest of my night with you,
When I woke up in the morning I realize what just happen, that I just enjoy the most wonderful night with you.
poem by Eddie Rubio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I studied for my degree in London and consequently ended up spending five years away from Cornwall. I deliberately moved away from the coast to experience a different way of life.
Life
WE are born; we laugh; we weep;
We love; we droop; we die!
Ah! wherefore do we laugh or weep?
Why do we live, or die?
Who knows that secret deep?
Alas, not I!
Why doth the violet spring
Unseen by human eye?
Why do the radiant seasons bring
Sweet thoughts that quickly fly?
Why do our fond hearts cling
To things that die?
We toil,—through pain and wrong;
We fight,—and fly;
We love; we lose; and then, ere long,
Stone-dead we lie.
O life! is all thy song
“Endure and—die”?
poem by Barry Cornwall
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Half the ills we heard within our hearts are ills because we hoard them.
quote by Barry Cornwall
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The Song Of A Felon's Wife
The brand is on thy brow,
A dark and guilty spot;
'Tis ne'er to be erased!
'Tis ne'er to be forgot!
The brand is on thy brow!
Yet I must shade the spot:
For who will love thee now,
If I love thee not?
Thy soul is dark, — is stained; —
From out the bright world thrown;
By God and man disdained,
But not by me, — thy own!
Oh! even the tiger slain
Hath one who ne'er doth flee,
Who soothes his dying pain!
— That one am I to thee!
poem by Barry Cornwall
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A Poet’s Thought
TELL me, what is a poet’s thought?
Is it on the sudden born?
Is it from the starlight caught?
Is it by the tempest taught,
Or by whispering morn?
Was it cradled in the brain?
Chain’d awhile, or nurs’d in night?
Was it wrought with toil and pain?
Did it bloom and fade again,
Ere it burst to light?
No more question of its birth:
Rather love its better part!
’T is a thing of sky and earth,
Gathering all its golden worth
From the Poet’s heart.
poem by Barry Cornwall
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