The flower, full blown, now bends the stalk, now breaks
The flower, full blown, now bends the stalk, now breaks;
The mellow fruit inclines the bough to earth;
The brow which thought impregnates ofttimes aches;
Death-stricken is the womb in giving birth.
Cracked is the vase by heat which doth illume,
The driest logs the swiftest burn to nought,
Sweet flowers are stifled by their own perfume,
And bees when honey-clogged are easy caught.
Snapped are true chords e'en by the note they give,
The largest wave is broken by its weight,
Choked by its sheer sufficiency the sieve,
And blunted soon the shaft which flieth straight.
And so the largest mind and richest soul
Are always most amenable to dole.
poem by Alfred Austin
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Related quotes
On Lamb’s Specimens of Dramatic Poets: Sonnets
I.
IF ALL the flowers of all the fields on earth
By wonder-working summer were made one,
Its fragrance were not sweeter in the sun,
Its treasure-house of leaves were not more worth
Than those wherefrom thy light of musing mirth
Shone, till each leaf whereon thy pen would run
Breathed life, and all its breath was benison.
Beloved beyond all names of English birth,
More dear than mightier memories; gentlest name
That ever clothed itself with flower-sweet fame,
Or linked itself with loftiest names of old
By right and might of loving; I, that am
Less than the least of those within thy fold,
Give only thanks for them to thee, Charles Lamb.
II.
So many a year had borne its own bright bees
And slain them since thy honey-bees were hived,
John Day, in cells of flower-sweet verse contrived
So well with craft of moulding melodies,
Thy soul perchance in amaranth fields at ease
Thought not to hear the sound on earth revived
Of summer music from the spring derived
When thy song sucked the flower of flowering trees
But thine was not the chance of every day:
Time, after many a darkling hour, grew sunny,
And light between the clouds ere sunset swam,
Laughing, and kissed their darkness all away,
When, touched and tasted and approved, thy honey
Took subtler sweetness from the lips of Lamb.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Child’s Monitor
THE wind blows down the largest tree,
And yet the wind I cannot see!
Playmates far off, who have been kind,
My thought can bring before my mind;
The past by it is present brought,
And yet I cannot see my thought;
The charming rose scents all the air,
Yet I can see no perfume there.
Blithe Robin's notes how sweet, how clear!
From his small bill they reach my ear,
And whilst upon the air they float,
I hear, yet cannot see a note.
When I would do what is forbid,
By something in my heart I'm chid;
When good, I think, then quick and pat,
That something says, 'My child, do that:'
When I too near the stream would go,
So pleased to see the waters flow,
That something says, without a sound,
'Take care, dear child, you may be drown'd: '
And for the poor whene'er I grieve,
That something says, 'A penny give.'
Thus something very near must be,
Although invisible to me;
Whate'er I do, it sees me still:
O then, good Spirit, guide my will.
poem by Ann Taylor
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Sonnet: The Bees Never Give Up
Every time, they crush the bees to death and
Steal away their sweet honey in a trice;
And wax to make candles of immense size;
The Queen bee escapes to another land.
The bees comeback; with vengeance start again
A small bee-hive in the very same place!
They work extra in the sun and in rain,
Buzzing to flowers in a frenzied pace.
And soon their hive has been rebuilt and full,
Of sweet honey and larvae that are fed;
The bees continuing without a lull,
Searching for more nectar in every mead.
How well Nature takes care of its species!
Man must learn from the bee-hive and the bees.
poem by John Celes
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The Poet's Portion
What is a mine—a treasury—a dower—
A magic talisman of mighty power?
A poet's wide possession of the earth.
He has th' enjoyment of a flower's birth
Before its budding—ere the first red streaks,—
And Winter cannot rob him of their cheeks.
Look—if his dawn be not as other men's!
Twenty bright flushes—ere another kens
The first of sunlight is abroad—he sees
Its golden 'lection of the topmost trees,
And opes the splendid fissures of the morn.
When do his fruits delay, when doth his corn
Linger for harvesting? Before the leaf
Is commonly abroad, in his piled sheaf
The flagging poppies lose their ancient flame.
No sweet there is, no pleasure I can name,
But he will sip it first—before the lees.
'Tis his to taste rich honey,—ere the bees
Are busy with the brooms. He may forestall
June's rosy advent for his coronal;
Before th' expectant buds upon the bough,
Twining his thoughts to bloom upon his brow.
Oh! blest to see the flower in its seed,
Before its leafy presence; for indeed
Leaves are but wings on which the summer flies,
And each thing perishable fades and dies,
Escap'd in thought; but his rich thinkings be
Like overflows of immortality:
So that what there is steep'd shall perish never,
But live and bloom, and be a joy forever.
poem by Thomas Hood
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Guests
Sunflower tall and hollyhock, that wave in the
wind together,
Corn-flower, poppy, and marigold, blossoming
fair and fine,
Delicate sweet-peas, glowing bright in the quiet
autumn weather,
While over the fence, on fire with bloom,
climbs the nasturtium vine!
Quaint little wilderness of flowers, straggling
hither and thither -
morning-glories tangled about the larkspur
gone to seed,
Scarlet runners that burst all bounds, and wan-
der, heaven knows whither,
And lilac spikes of bergamot, as thick as any
weed.
And oh, the bees and the butterflies, the hum-
ming-birds and sparrows,
That over the garden waver and chirp and
flutter the livelong day!
Humming-birds, that dart in the sun like green
and golden arrows,
Butterflies like loosened flowers blown off by
the wind in play.
Look at the red nasturtium flower, drooping,
bending, and swaying;
Out the gold-banded humble-bee breaks and
goes booming anew!
Hark, what the sweet-voiced fledgling sparrows
low to themselves are saying,
Pecking my golden oats where the corn-flowers
gleam so blue!
Welcome, a thousand times welcome, ye dear
and delicate neighbors -
Bird and bee and butterfly, and humming-bird
fairy fine!
Proud am I to offer you a field for your grace-
ful labors;
All the honey and all the seeds are yours in
this garden of mine.
I sit on the door-step and watch you. Beyond
lies the infinite ocean,
Sparkling, shimmering, whispering, rocking itself
to rest;
And the world is full of perfume and color and
beautiful motion,
And each new hour of this sweet day the
happiest seems and best.
poem by Celia Thaxter
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Burning Heat
Burning in my heart- burning in my soul
Gotta have it more and more- hot and overloaded
Starving for some fun tonight- always dressed to kill
Dont tell me what I need- I need the thrill indeed
Dont stop me now
Ill run you over- bastard
Get out of my way
I feel mighty great
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Cant you see it coming- stronger than a bull
Get yourself going- youre too easy to beat
Dont forget Im strong- powerful and straight
I can take you on cause I am hard to break
Dont stop me now
Ill run you over- bastard
Get out of my way
I feel mighty great
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Burning heat- leads me- burning heat
Burning heat- feeds me- burning heat
Burning in my heart- burning in my soul
Gotta have it more and more- hot and overloaded
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Burning heat- leads me- burning heat
Burning heat- feeds me- burning heat
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Learning from the honey bee
Look at the bees
And learn something
They yearn for others
as busy bees
Together in swarms they fly along
To find gardens together they throng
From flower to flower
From nectar to nectar
Serving their queen bee with compassion
Caring for their young ones in devotion
They toil and toil
From flower to seed
To gather honey honey so sweet
Just to serve just to yearn
A tiny insect makes us learn
Its God Command to serve and earn
Give good to others
And get so in return
Be like the bees to find the truth
Of being happy and to find God's love
Be like a bee and be like the bees
Being for others and nothing above
poem by Rehanayakoob Yakoob
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Flowers In A Vase
A bunch of flowers
Sat in a vase
Colourful and lonely
A mind looks at them
Wondering
What is it they have to say
Are they a thank you
Or a gift of love
Are they an apology
Or given in remorse
Perhaps they are for nothing
Given to bring a smile
The mind looks on
Wondering for a while
The flowers sit in their vase
Unmoved by thought
Or the reason given to them
A little water at their base
To keep them fresh for a while
They are the end of the day
Just flowers in a vase
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Active Bees Fly In The Garden
Beautiful flowers in the orchid,
Active bees fly in the garden round and round,
They are humming around each and every flower,
They go around smelling for honey flavor,
Are those flowers Poppy or Rose?
While the bees find lots of flower,
They are happy and dance forever,
They will consume lots of honey,
They will inebriate and buzz
as if consumed wine in a winery!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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Endless verse of a nameless flora:
A lonely lovely girl was Standing at her breeze filled balcony,
her adorable heart was admiring the quiet moon in harmony,
a golden yellowish nameless flower fell on her feet,
the sweet perfume of the fallen flower blended with that chill breeze,
while she tried to hold the flower the petals they fell one by one,
she was holding just the stalk that was left alone,
tear drops that escaped from her eyes fell one by one like the petals,
she was holding someone's sweet memories like the stalk.
The moon wished that her love should blend with her love like the perfume in the air.
poem by Vimal Kumar N
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I Hope I Am Just Like You
i know
that you will be reading this.
This is thinking about man's capacity to quit.
TO dismiss what he grows inside his heart.
He was talking about the stalk of the fruit.
His end like the sap. The white sap
of the stain of the stalk of the fruit
the banana stalk giving off the
white sap from its stalk
cut off by the sharp bolo
when it ripens
he is talking about the mouth
and the last spit of the saliva
rabid. The dog finally goes off the street
and bites everybody.
I am bitten. And i have no last word to say.
There is no reason to quit.
everything ends. There is such thing as
a natural death.
soon it will come. I am waiting.
I try to tell you that there will be an end to this.
It is obvious. Too obvious. Like sunlight
to my forehead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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We are each other's seventh largest trading partner, we are the fifth largest investor there and likewise, we have a lot of exchanges between political leaders, businessmen, tourists and school children too.
quote by Sellapan Ramanathan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Umbilical Connect
the umbilical chord's
severed to let me be
to know my 'self'
and ever since
i continue to struggle
but even while it's intact
you knew your 'self'
for you're blessed with
the wisdom to unravel
the ever intriguing
birth and death
while the chord nurtured you...
what blessed soul must have
descended to bless my womb
is that all i owed you
nurturing you within
the confines
of my womb...
blessed is my womb
to have sheltered
you on this earth
to deliver you back
to the realms unknown
no, no...
i don't pull you to
the earth bound travails
but
at times i wonder
what you, whom i called
naciketa looked like...
you showed me the way
that in birth, is contained death
30oct2009
15.54hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Fruit Tree
Fame is but a fruit tree
So very unsound.
It can never flourish
Till its stalk is in the ground.
So men of fame
Can never find a way
Till time has flown
Far from their dying day.
Forgotten while youre here
Remembered for a while
A much updated ruin
From a much outdated style.
Life is but a memory
Happened long ago.
Theatre full of sadness
For a long forgotten show.
Seems so easy
Just to let it go on by
Till you stop and wonder
Why you never wondered why.
Safe in the womb
Of an everlasting night
You find the darkness can
Give the brightest light.
Safe in your place deep in the earth
Thats when theyll know what you were really worth.
Forgotten while youre here
Remembered for a while
A much updated ruin
From a much outdated style.
Fame is but a fruit tree
So very unsound.
It can never flourish
Till its stalk is in the ground.
So men of fame
Can never find a way
Till time has flown
Far from their dying day.
Fruit tree, fruit tree
No-one knows you but the rain and the air.
Dont you worry
Theyll stand and stare when youre gone.
Fruit tree, fruit tree
Open your eyes to another year.
Theyll all know
That you were here when youre gone.
song performed by by Nick Drake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Long Drought
After long drought, commotion in the sky;
After dead silence, thunder. Then it comes,
The rain. It slashes leaves, and doubly drums
On tin and shingle; beats and bends awry
The flower heads; puddles dust, and with a sigh
Like love sinks into grasses, where it hums
As bees did once, among chrysanthemums
And asters when the summer thought to die.
The whole world dreamed of this, and has it now.
Nor was the waking easy. The dull root
Is jealous of its death; the sleepy brow
Smiles in its slumber; and a heart can fear
The very flood it longed for, roaring near.
The spirit best remembers being mute.
poem by Mark Van Doren
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Cut Flowers
If you love me - please never bring me cut flowers
Because I know that they will die soon after a few hours
I would feel that whatever the flowers represent
Would be equal to the time we have left to spend
Straight stems, soft petals and a lush green leaf
The hours and minutes are numbered - you better believe
Picking a flower is like a sure sentence to death
Like taking a fish out of water watching his last breath
Cut down their life brutally shortened with a sharp knife
All hope diminished knowing that they will not survive
Sure the flowers may get nourishment from the water in the vase
But their life is over as they know it in just a few days
So do not buy any cut flowers for me pretty please
I rather watch them outside visited by many bees
It is so beautiful to see them sway softly outside
And so sad to see them slowly die and lose their pride
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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Wild Honey
B. wilson
Mama Im tellin you as sure as Im standin here
Shes my girl and thats the way Im keepin it my mama dear
No good will it do you to stand there and frown at me
The girls got my heart and my loves comin down on me
Last time I met her since I got a taste of wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
You know shes got the sweetness of the honey bee
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Honey, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) she got me all and stung me good, oh, yesiree
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Before he even stung bees buzzin around her hive
She singled me out, single handed took me alive
Im gonna take her home and spend my life
Eatin up the wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Oh mama shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Yaaaa, honey (sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Let me tell you how she really got to my soul (sweet,sweet my honey)
It aint funny, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) the way she made me want to sing a little rock and
Roll (sweet, sweet, my honey)
Theres nothing quite as good as the taste of wild honey
Break my back workin just to save me some money
I can spend my life with her eatin up her wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Oh honey shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Now
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some(shes the one)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some wild honey
Gimme some gimme some..........
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bees
From the hollow trees in their native home
them old fellows cut the honeycomb.
On honey and little white grubs they fed,
'cause them young bees was blackfeller's bread.
That's why they was so mighty and strong
in their native home in Currarong.
An' them old fellers' drink was honey-bul;
honey and water, a coolamon full.
Naked through the bush they went,
an' never knew what sickness meant,
them native bees could do you no harm,
they'd crawl all over your honey-smeared arm.
But them Eyetalian bees, they'd bung
your eyes right up. When we was young
we used to rob their honey-trees,
Savage! they'd fetch your blood, Them bees
would zoom an' zing an' chase a feller
from Bombaderry to Bodalla
Well Old Uncle Ninah, and Billy Bulloo
Old Jacky Mumbulla, King Merriman too,
them fierce old fellers, they're all gone now.
An' the wild honey's still in the gumtree bough.
poem by Roland Robinson
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Violets
SENT IN A LITTLE BOX.
LET them lie, yes, let them lie,
They'll be dead to-morrow:
Lift the lid up quietly
As you'd lift the mystery
Of a shrouded sorrow.
Let them lie, the fragrant things,
Their sweet souls thus giving:
Let no breezes' ambient wings,
And no useless water-springs
Lure them into living.
They have lived--they live no more:
Nothing can requite them
For the gentle life they bore
And up-yielded in full store
While it did delight them.
Yet, poor flowers, not sad to die
In the hand that slew ye,
Did ye leave the open sky,
And the winds that wandered by,
And the bees that knew ye.
Giving up a small earth place,
And a day of blooming,
Here to lie in narrow space,
Smiling in this sickly face,
This dull air perfuming?
O my pretty violets dead,
Coffined from all gazes,
We will also smiling shed
Out of our flowers witherèd,
Perfume of sweet praises.
And as ye, for this poor sake,
Love with life are buying,
So, I doubt not, ONE will make
All our gathered flowers to take
Richer scent through dying.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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My! My! Honeycomb
(ronnie scott/ steve wolfe)
Producers for bonnie: ronnie scott, steve wolfe
Recorded in 1975, this was bonnies first ever recording! lyrics taken from careful listening.
Here I am in the city
With a picture of you in my head
I remember that night
The words you said
You told me I was pretty
With the moon shining down on my hair
Im hung up on you now
But youre not there
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
Wrote you so many letters
I was hoping youd answer with flowers
Then I sat by myself
To watch the hours
But you didnt come boy
Not a word, not a call, not a thing
Dont you know how it hurts me
When you sting
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
Leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, the birds have flown
Wild, wild honeycomb, leave my honey alone
My! my! honeycomb
The bees are buzzing, I should have known
Sweet, sweet honeycomb, leave my honey alone
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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