Dedication To Joseph Mazzini
Take, since you bade it should bear,
These, of the seed of your sowing,
Blossom or berry or weed.
Sweet though they be not, or fair,
That the dew of your word kept growing,
Sweet at least was the seed.
Men bring you love-offerings of tears,
And sorrow the kiss that assuages,
And slaves the hate-offering of wrongs,
And time the thanksgiving of years,
And years the thanksgiving of ages;
I bring you my handful of songs.
If a perfume be left, if a bloom,
Let it live till Italia be risen,
To be strewn in the dust of her car
When her voice shall awake from the tomb
England, and France from her prison,
Sisters, a star by a star.
I bring you the sword of a song,
The sword of my spirit's desire,
Feeble; but laid at your feet,
That which was weak shall be strong,
That which was cold shall take fire,
That which was bitter be sweet.
It was wrought not with hands to smite,
Nor hewn after swordsmiths' fashion,
Nor tempered on anvil of steel;
But with visions and dreams of the night,
But with hope, and the patience of passion,
And the signet of love for a seal.
Be it witness, till one more strong,
Till a loftier lyre, till a rarer
Lute praise her better than I,
Be it witness before you, my song,
That I knew her, the world's banner-bearer,
Who shall cry the republican cry.
Yea, even she as at first,
Yea, she alone and none other,
Shall cast down, shall build up, shall bring home;
Slake earth's hunger and thirst,
Lighten, and lead as a mother;
First name of the world's names, Rome.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What Can You Bring Me
(j gadson)
When your lovin is gone
And you cant carry on
What can you bring me
When there aint nobody else
And you cant help yourself
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
Can you bring me that happy day
Let me know that everything is ok
Bring it strong and bring it fast
Bring it till the pain is in the past
What can you bring me, thatll unchain me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me baby
What can you bring me
Like a amn whose on that road, drivin hard towards his goal
Like Im on my last go round
My love lifes lost and cant be found
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
Hurry baby, dont waste time
I need somebody, help me solve this crime
Bring it strong and bring it fast
Bring it till the pain is in the past
What can you bring me, thatll unchain me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
Help my equilibrium baby
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From Milton: And did those feet
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?
Bring me my Bow of burning gold:
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear:O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!
I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green & pleasant Land.
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The New Jerusalem
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic Mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my charriot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.
poem by William Blake
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And Did Those Feet In Ancient Time
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark satanic mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jerusalem
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
Bring me my spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire.
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Milton: And did those feet in ancient time
And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England's mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark Satanic mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
Bring me my spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire.
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land.
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Your Precious Love
(coverdale/vandenberg)
I'm far from home,
And tired of this place,
I miss your good, good love
And your sweet embrace
Can't sleep at night
With you on my mind,
I just wanna run to you, baby,
Leave it all behind
'cause it seems so long
Since i heard your song,
I'm coming home to you, baby,
Back where i belong
Your precious love,
That's all i need,
Angel spread your wings
And bring it on home to me
Sometimes in my life
I don't know what to do,
Tho' i'm weak for myself
I try to be strong for you.
You're there when i need you,
After all these years,
So i send you this letter, baby,
Written in tears
'cause it seems so long
Since i heard your song,
I'm coming home to you, baby, baby,
Back where i belong
Your precious love,
That's all i need,
Angel spread your wings
And bring it on home to me
'cause it seems so long
Since i heard your song,
I'm coming home to you, baby,
Back where i belong
Your precious love,
That's all i need,
Angel spread your wings
And bring it, bring it, bring on home
Your precious love, your precious love,
That's all that i need.
Angel spread your wings and
Bring it, bring it, bring on home
Bring it baby, baby, that's all i want.
Your precious love
Your precious love, that's all i need
Your precious love, your precious love
Your precious love, that's all i need
C'mon bring on home, baby
Won't you bring on home
I need your love...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Its Not A Song
Day turns to night, and I turn into bed.
Cant get to sleep; somethings in my head.
Pacing the floor, I try to force a rhyme.
Why do I fear this time?
Its not a song till it touches your heart.
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Now close your eyes; look into your hand.
What do you see?
Life is our song, to give and learn to take.
Time will not wait.
Oh, wont you please come dance,
While the songs still playing,
Wont be long till the silence falls.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bring It On Home To Me
If you ever change your mind
About leavin, leavin me behind
Oh, oh, bring it to me
Bring your sweet lovin
Bring it on home to me, yeah, yeah, yeah.
You know I laughed (ha ha) when you left
But now I know Ive only hurt myself
Oh, oh, bring it to me
Bring your sweet lovin
Bring it on home to me, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ill give you jewelry, money too
And thats not all, all Ill do for you
Oh, oh, bring it to me
Bring your sweet lovin
Bring it on home to me, yeah, yeah, yeah
You know Ill always be your slave
Till Im dead and buried in my grave
Oh, oh, bring it to me
Bring your sweet lovin
Bring it on home to me, yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah) yeah
If you ever change your mind
About leavin, leavin me behind
Oh, oh, bring it to me
Bring your sweet lovin
Bring it on home to me, yeah (yeah) yeah (yeah)
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bring It On Home To Me
(Sam Cooke)
If you ever (play it slowly) change your mind
About leavin-a, leavina me behind-a
Bring it to me
Bring your sweet lovin' home
Bring it on, bring it on, bring it on, bring it on
Home to me
I've given ya jewelry and money, too
Then I know, hu, I can do for you
Ooh, honey, bring it to me
Bring your sweet lovin'
Bring it on home
God, knows I've tried to treat you right
I just stayed out, stayed out all night
Oh, want cha ta to bring it to me
Bring your sweet lovin'
Bring it on, bring it on, bring it on home to me
Jack!
[Instrumental
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Emancipation Hymn
Praise we the Lord! let songs resound
To earth’s remotest shore!
Songs of thanksgiving, songs of praise —
For we are slaves no more.
Praise we the Lord! His power hath rent
The chains that held us long!
His voice is mighty, as of old,
And still His arm is strong.
Praise we the Lord! His wrath arose,
His arm our fetters broke;
The tyrant dropped the lash, and we
To liberty awoke!
Praise we the Lord! let ho’y songs
Rise from these happy isles! —
O! let us not unworthy prove,
On whom His bounty smiles.
And cease we not the fight of faith
Till all mankind be free;
Till mercy o’er the earth shall flow,
As waters o’er the sea.
Then shall indeed Messiah’s reign
Through nil the world extend;
Then swords to ploughshares shall be turned,
And Heaven with earth shall blend.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Erin
“Come, sing a new song to her here while we listen!'
They cry to her sons who sing;
And one sings: ' Mavourneen, it makes the eyes glisten
To think how the sorrows cling,
Like the clouds on your mountains, wreathing
Their green to a weeping gray! '
And the bard with his passionate breathing
Has no other sweet word to say.
'Come sing a new song!' and their eyes, while they're speaking,
Are dreaming of far-off things;
And their hearts are away for the old words seeking,
Unheeding of him who sings.
But he smiles and sings on, for the sound so slender
Has reached the deep note he knows;
And the heart-poem stirred by the word so tender
Out from the well-spring flows.
And he says in his song: '0 dhtar dheelish! the tearful!
She's ready to laugh when she cries!'
And they sob when they hear: 'Sure she's sad when she's cheerful;
And she smiles with the tears in her eyes!'
And he asks them : What need of new poets to praise her?
Her harpers still sing in the past;
And her first sweet old melodies com fort and raise her
To joys never reached by her last.
What need of new hero, with Brian? or preacher,
With Patrick? or soldier, with Conn?
With her dark Ollamh Fohla, what need of a teacher,
Sage, ruler, and builder in one?
What need of new lovers, with Deirdre and Imer?
With wonders and visions and elves
Sure no need at all has romancer or rhymer,
When the fairies belong to ourselves.
What need of new tongues? O, the Gaelic is clearest,
Like Nature's own voice every word;
'Ahagur! Acushla! SavourneenI' the dearest
The ear of a girl ever heard.
They may talk of new causes! Dhar Dhia .' our old one
Is fresher than ever to-day;
Like Erin's green sod that is steaming to God
The blood it has drunk in the fray.
They have scattered her seed, with her blood and hate in it,
And the harvest has come to her here;
Her crown still remains for the strong heart to win it,
And the hour of acceptance is near.
Through ages of warfare and famine and prison
Her voice and her spirit were free:
But the longest night ends, and her name has uprisen:
The sunburst is red on the sea!
What need of new songs? When his country is singing.
What word has the Poet to say,
But to drink her a toast while the joy-bells are ringing
The dawn of her opening day?
'O Bride of the Sea! may the world know your
As well as it knows your tears!
As your past was for Freedom, so be your hereafter;
And through all your coming years
May no weak race be wronged, and no strong robber feared;
To oppressors grow hateful, to slaves more endeared;
Till the world comes to know that the test of a cause
Is the hatred of tyrants, and Erin's applause!'
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Christmas Roses
THE summer roses all are gone--
Dead, laid in shroud of rain-wet mould;
And passion's lightning time is done,
And Love is laid out white and cold.
Summer and youth for us are dead,
What do old age and winter bring instead?
They bring us memories of old years,
And Christmas roses, cold and sweet,
Which, washed by not unhappy tears,
I bring and lay beside your feet,
With gifts that come with flowers like these--
Friendship, remembrance of our past, and peace!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Quis Separabit?
All my life's short years had been stern and sterile --
I stood like one whom the blasts blow back --
As with shipmen whirled through the straits of Peril,
So fierce foes menaced my every track.
But I steeled my soul to a strong endeavour,
I bared my brow as the sharp strokes fell,
And I said to my heart -- "Hope on! Hope ever:
Have Courage -- Courage, and all is well."
Then, bright as the blood in my heart's rich chalice,
O Blossom, Blossom! -- you came from far;
And life rang joy, till the World's loud malice
Shrilled to the edge of our utmost star.
And I said: "On me let the rough storms hurtle,
The great clouds gather and shroud my sun --
But you shall be Queen where the rose and myrtle
Laugh with the year till the year is done."
So my Dream fell dead; and the fluctuant passion --
The stress and strain of the past re-grew,
The world laughed on in its heedless fashion,
But Earth whirled worthless, because of you!
In that Lake of Tears which my grief discovered,
I laid dead Love with a passionate kiss,
And over those soundless depths has hovered
The sweet, sad wraith of my vanished bliss.
Heart clings to Heart -- let the strange years sever
The fates of two who had met -- to part;
Love's strength survives, and the harsh world never
Shall crush the passion of heart for heart;
For I know my life, though it droop and dwindle,
Shall leave me Love till I fade and die,
And when hereafter our Souls re-kindle,
Who shall be fonder -- You or I?
poem by Philip Joseph Holdsworth
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Drift Off To Dream
Drift off to Dream
As I sit here surrounded, By people and lights
Along with my drink at the bar
Youve been here forever, So clear in my mind
I just dont know where you are
But I know Ill find you, But girl till I do
This is my love song for you
Lets hold hands on the porch swing
Under the moon
While the wind through the willows
Plays us a tune
We can lie on a blanket, Out back in the yard
And wish for our future
On a far away star
And youll feel the passion, As time after time
I press your sweet lips to mine
We can dance to the radio, Right up till dawn
Till you drift off
To dream in my arms
You might be hundreds, Or more miles away
Or you might be just down the street
But therell be a hunger, Deep in your eyes
That Ill recognize when we meet
It might take hours, Or it might talk years
But this is the song you will hear
Lets hold hands on the porch swing
Under the moon
While the wind through the willows
Plays us a tune
We can lie on a blanket, Out back in the yard
And wish for our future
On a far away star
And youll feel the passion, As time after time
I press your sweet lips to mine
We can dance to the radio, Right up till dawn
Till you drift off
To dream in my arms
And youll feel the passion
As time after time
I press your sweet lips to mine
We can dance to the radio, Right up till dawn
Till you drift off
To dream in my arms
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Parting Hour
Not yet, dear love, not yet: the sun is high;
You said last night, 'At sunset I will go.'
Come to the garden, where when blossoms die
No word is spoken; it is better so:
Ah! bitter word 'Farewell.'
Hark! how the birds sing sunny songs of spring!
Soon they will build, and work will silence them;
So we grow less light-hearted as years bring
Life's grave responsibilities - and then
The bitter word 'Farewell.'
The violets fret to fragrance 'neath your feet,
Heaven's gold sunlight dreams aslant your hair:
No flower for me! your mouth is far more sweet.
O, let my lips forget, while lingering there,
Love's bitter word 'Farewell.'
Sunset already! have we sat so long?
The parting hour, and so much left unsaid!
The garden has grown silent - void of song,
Our sorrow shakes us with a sudden dread!
Ah! bitter word 'Farewell.'
poem by Olive Custance
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Bring It On Home To Me/send Me Some Lovin
F you ever change your mind,
About leaving, leaving me behind,
Oh, you'd better bring it to me,
Bring your sweet lovin',
Bring it on home to me.
Yeh, (yeh) yeh, (yeh) yeh.
You know i laughed,
Laughed when you left.
But now i know, i've only hurt myself.
Oh, you'd better bring it to me,
Bring your sweet lovin',
Bring it on home to me.
Yeh, (yeh) yeh, (yeh) yeh, yeh, yeh.
Oh, you'd better bring it to me,
Bring your sweet lovin',
Bring it on home to me.
Yeh, (yeh) yeh, (yeh) yeh.
You know i'll always be your slave,
Until i'm dead and buried in my grave.
Oh, you'd better bring it to me,
Bring your sweet lovin',
Bring it on home to me.
Yeh, (yeh) yeh, yeh.
Send me some lovin',
Send it i pray.
How can i love you
When you're so far away?
Send me your picture,
Send it, my dear.
So i can hold it
And pretend you are here.
Send me your kisses,
I can feel your touch.
I need you, i need you so badly,
Don't you know i miss you so much?
My days are so lonely,
My nights are so blue.
I'm here and i'm lonely,
Just waitin' for you.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bring It On Home To Me/send Me Some Lovin
F you ever change your mind,
About leaving, leaving me behind,
Oh, you'd better bring it to me,
Bring your sweet lovin',
Bring it on home to me.
Yeh, (yeh) yeh, (yeh) yeh.
You know i laughed,
Laughed when you left.
But now i know, i've only hurt myself.
Oh, you'd better bring it to me,
Bring your sweet lovin',
Bring it on home to me.
Yeh, (yeh) yeh, (yeh) yeh, yeh, yeh.
Oh, you'd better bring it to me,
Bring your sweet lovin',
Bring it on home to me.
Yeh, (yeh) yeh, (yeh) yeh.
You know i'll always be your slave,
Until i'm dead and buried in my grave.
Oh, you'd better bring it to me,
Bring your sweet lovin',
Bring it on home to me.
Yeh, (yeh) yeh, yeh.
Send me some lovin',
Send it i pray.
How can i love you
When you're so far away?
Send me your picture,
Send it, my dear.
So i can hold it
And pretend you are here.
Send me your kisses,
I can feel your touch.
I need you, i need you so badly,
Don't you know i miss you so much?
My days are so lonely,
My nights are so blue.
I'm here and i'm lonely,
Just waitin' for you.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song II: Have No Thought for Tomorrow
Love is enough: have no thought for to-morrow
If ye lie down this even in rest from your pain,
Ye who have paid for your bliss with great sorrow:
For as it was once so it shall be again.
Ye shall cry out for death as ye stretch forth in vain
Feeble hands to the hands that would help but they may not,
Cry out to deaf ears that would hear if they could;
Till again shall the change come, and words your lips say not
Your hearts make all plain in the best wise they would
And the world ye thought waning is glorious and good:
And no morning now mocks you and no nightfall is weary,
The plains are not empty of song and of deed:
The sea strayeth not, nor the mountains are dreary;
The wind is not helpless for any man's need,
Nor falleth the rain but for thistle and weed.
O surely this morning all sorrow is hidden,
All battle is hushed for this even at least;
And no one this noontide may hunger, unbidden
To the flowers and the singing and the joy of your feast
Where silent ye sit midst the world's tale increased.
Lo, the lovers unloved that draw nigh for your blessing!
For your tale makes the dreaming whereby yet they live
The dreams of the day with their hopes of redressing,
The dreams of the night with the kisses they give,
The dreams of the dawn wherein death and hope strive.
Ah, what shall we say then, but that earth threatened often
Shall live on for ever that such things may be,
That the dry seed shall quicken, the hard earth shall soften,
And the spring-bearing birds flutter north o'er the sea,
That earth's garden may bloom round my love's feet and me?
poem by William Morris
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In The Orchard
LEAVE go my hands, let me catch breath and see;
Let the dew-fall drench either side of me;
Clear apple-leaves are soft upon that moon
Seen sidelong like a blossom in the tree;
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
The grass is thick and cool, it lets us lie.
Kissed upon either cheek and either eye,
I turn to thee as some green afternoon
Turns toward sunset, and is loth to die;
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
Lie closer, lean your face upon my side,
Feel where the dew fell that has hardly dried,
Hear how the blood beats that went nigh to swoon;
The pleasure lives there when the sense has died;
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
O my fair lord, I charge you leave me this:
Is it not sweeter than a foolish kiss?
Nay take it then, my flower, my first in June,
My rose, so like a tender mouth it is:
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
Love, till dawn sunder night from day with fire,
Dividing my delight and my desire,
The crescent life and love the plenilune,
Love me though dusk begin and dark retire;
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
Ah, my heart fails, my blood draws back; I know,
When life runs over, life is near to go;
And with the slain of love love’s ways are strewn,
And with their blood, if love will have it so;
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
Ah, do thy will now; slay me if thou wilt;
There is no building now the walls are built,
No quarrying now the corner-stone is hewn,
No drinking now the vine’s whole blood is spilt;
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
Nay, slay me now; nay, for I will be slain;
Pluck thy red pleasure from the teeth of pain,
Break down thy vine ere yet grape-gatherers prune,
Slay me ere day can slay desire again;
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
Yea, with thy sweet lips, with thy sweet sword; yea,
Take life and all, for I will die, I say;
Love, I gave love, is life a better boon?
For sweet night’s sake I will not live till day;
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
Nay, I will sleep then only; nay, but go.
Ah sweet, too sweet to me, my sweet, I know
Love, sleep, and death go to the sweet same tune;
Hold my hair fast, and kiss me through it so.
Ah God, ah God, that day should be so soon.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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