The Heritage
ON summer evenings when the full moon shines
Serene and fair,
High in the crystal air,
On hillsides deep in birches and in pines,
Then in all hearts there stirs a hidden fire
Of hope, or memory;
Some their beloved dead more yearningly desire,
Some dream of loves to be,
Some weep their swift and sweet mortality.
But I remember only,
Long centuries ago,
A glen more dark and lonely
Than these which now I know;
The noise of waters flowing,
And faint, salt breezes blowing,
Ivy and myrtle growing,
As here they do not grow.
There, when the moon was at full we would come, we would come,
To the shrilling of pipes, and the terrible tone of the drum ,
Rolling long, rolling loud, as the voice that presages the rain,
We would come to the cavern profound, to the holy domain.
Then in the moonlight entrancing,
Figures moved agile and fleet,
Then there was dancing, ay, dancing,
Leaping and stamping of feet,
Dancers that drifted and darted,
Light as a leaf in the breeze,
Circles that met and that parted,
While the stars danced through the trees.
Quickening, the drums beat the measure,
All the night long on the hill, -
Such was the Thunderer's pleasure. . . .
This I remember me still.
O placid northern moon on this calm lake
Beaming demure and tame,
How can I take
Aught of delight in thy pale flame?
I ache
For a communion I have known
Long centuries ago,
Which nevermore the world will seek, or know;
For a belief outgrown,
Yet how much more my own
Than creeds that hold me quiet on my knees;
For rites, that brought delights like these,
And Gods I once knew how to please.
poem by Alice Duer Miller
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Related quotes
The Moon
The lonely moon
whom sits euphorically
in the darken sky
Alone
for centuries
announcing persistently
the constant night
Capturing imagination
which misguided, leads into
The were-wolf's bite
at full
O the misinterpretation
of the one
who swims
in the black
Outshining the stars
inspiring the dreams
behind the eyelids
overdosed in the sandman's
grains
In these dreams we see
the very core in the deep
so easily forgotten
and from consciousness, sunder
upon awake
But I
remember the lonely
moon
But I
can relate
The moon
who shines and sits
in the midnight sky
and beyond
The moon
I announce thee
as my long lost
brother
poem by Justin Tallman Gonzalez
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If I was in the Moon - Pinewood Royal
From an idea by Sophie Mitchell-Dwelly
Before the coming of the night
I see the moon rise all dressed in white
In the crepuscular light
I see the stars come out so bright
As I watch the stars appear
Like diamonds on a velvet blanket
And when the sky is clear
I'm so glad that I am here with you
Oh The Moon she looks so pale
Do you think she's happy in her misty veil?
Oh her light is everywhere
On a beach of pebbles we're standing there
If I was in the moon
I wouldn't want to leave too soon
If I was in the moon
I might just stay for ever
Oh Dancing in the moonlight
Our feet feel so light
Dancing in the moonlight
Oh the stars are so bright
Owls calling through the trees
And the frogs are chirping in the evening breeze
The crickets play their tune
By the light of the magical moon
If I was in the moon
I wouldn't want to leave too soon
If I was in the moon
I might just stay for ever
poem by GuyPaul MitchellDwelly
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Sweet Summer's Dance
A dance upon the woodland green,
moon spinning with delight.
Wind aglow with moonbeam's ray
spreads far into eboned night.
Twirling ~ is sweet summer's dance
beneath the yearning moon.
Smiling down upon the face
of memory's rendered tune.
Stepping quickly ~ two- step now,
a waltzing hillside breeze
across the greening meadow ~
dancing softly through the trees.
Smiling moon ~ now breathes its sigh
upon sweet summer's dance.
Alive and luring ~ summer sweet ~
attracting moon's long glance.
'Round and 'round with rhythmic beat,
afire ~ with earthly charm,
summer blossoms with each step
beneath the moonbeams warm.
~~**~~**~~
Alas ~
Dark sky,
On horizon it falls.
Moon cries, as night ends much too soon.
Summer's dance now sends its sweet kiss.
~ Hypnotizing the man in the moon. ~
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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To Jane: The Keen Stars Were Twinkling
I.
The keen stars were twinkling,
And the fair moon was rising among them,
Dear Jane.
The guitar was tinkling,
But the notes were not sweet till you sung them
Again.
II.
As the moon's soft splendour
O'er the faint cold starlight of Heaven
Is thrown,
So your voice most tender
To the strings without soul had then given
Its own.
III.
The stars will awaken,
Though the moon sleep a full hour later
To-night;
No leaf will be shaken
Whilst the dews of your melody scatter
Delight.
IV.
Though the sound overpowers,
Sing again, with your dear voice revealing
A tone
Of some world far from ours,
Where music and moonlight and feeling
Are one.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The Change
She leaned out into the soft June weather,
With her long loose tresses the night breeze played;
Her eyes were as blue as the bells on the heather:
Oh, what is so fair as a fair young maid!
She folded her hands, like the leaves of a lily,
'My life, ' she said, 'is a night in June,
Fair and quiet, and calm and stilly;
Bring me a change, O changeful moon!
'Who would drift on a lake forever?
Young hearts weary - it is not strange,
And sigh for the beautiful bounding river;
New moon, true moon, bring me a change! '
The rose that rivalled her maiden blushes
Dropped from her breast, at a strangers feet;
Only a glance; but the hot blood rushes
To mantle a fair face, shy and sweet.
To and fro, while the moon is waning,
They walk, and the stars shine on above;
And one is in earnest, and one is feigning -
Oh, what is so sweet as a sweet young love?
A young life crushed, and a young heart broken,
A bleak wind blows through the lovely bower,
And all that remains of the love vows spoken -
Is the trampled leaf of a faded flower.
The night is dark, for the moon is failing -
And what is so pale as a pale old moon?
Cold is the wind through the tree tops wailing -
Woe that the change should come so soon.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Dancing In The Moonlight
Walking in the rain far away from nowhere.
No more noise, just silence and the music thats in my brain.
Walking through the night, a different atmosphere.
No more noise, just silence and the sound thats in my ear.
Im just dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Walking down the hill listening to the trees.
No more noise, just silence and the raindrops on my shoes.
Walking down the beach sparkling lights on the water.
No more noise, just silence and by the way Im feeling free.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im just dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
Im dancing, dancing in the moonlight.
song performed by by Scooter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here Comes The Moon
Everybodys talking up a storm
Act like they dont notice it
But here it is and here it comes . . .
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Impulse always quickens when its full
As it turns my head around me
Yes it does and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Gods gift I see thats moving up there into the night . . .
Though dark the mirror in the sky reflects us our light:
Looks like a little brother to the sun
Or mother to the stars at night
And here it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Breath is always taken when its new
Enhance upon the clouds around it
Yes it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Li Po drowns
Li Po sits drinking wine;
he is in his garden
below the tree
reciting his poems to the night
and he sings to the cool air
and he sings to the moon
and he drinks more in between
Li Po walks to the lake
and he sings to the moon:
I will come to you, beloved
I will come to you
for you have waited for me centuries
for you have glowed nights
looking for me;
I will come to you, even now,
beloved moon,
I will come to you, even now
and Li Po walks to his boat
and he rows his boat
and he rows his boat gleefully
and he rows singing
and Li Po is in the middle of the lake
and he stops there to look at his beloved
whose radiant wholeness
shimmers in the water
and Li Po sings always
his song of love to his moon:
I will come to you, beloved
I will come to you
for you have waited for me centuries
for you have glowed nights
looking for me;
I will come to you, even now,
beloved moon,
I will come to you, even now
and Li Po jumps into the lake
and he struggles and he swims
and he swims and he struggles
and he sings:
I come to you, beloved,
I come to you
you who have waited centuries for me
radiant and a-glow in the sky
I come to you now
and he swims towards the distorted moon in the lake
and he beats his hands at the moon in the lake
and Li Po struggles
and Li Po clutches at the watery moon
and Li Po is his with his beloved
after centuries he is come
and Li Po is with his love
Li Po is with his beloved moon:
Li Po flies to the moon; Li Po flies to the moon
poem by Raj Arumugam
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The shadow of you sleeping naked
Your father's eye,
where does it lead?
Listen to the ground,
the earth can't afford anything it wants.
Death like a signal ahead full of warnings and regrets.
Will anyone pull a fast one and get out of here alive?
Can anyone get the best of death?
Out of the grave your loved ones once walked.
The sound is so quiet you had better take a deep breath.
Imagination is like the first day of love, it can have a spell.
The way evenings are heading home with a shovel.
The moon now comparing my love to a war for peace.
Like i would really be ready to betray.
Like there are flashlights looking for me,
and they have been there for such a long time,
i have an ache in my neck from looking up at the stars.
Wondering what is sunken deep there.
What dark water is near the same place i was born?
Where in the shallows you build your little raft,
with candles that have really long wicks
so i can tie your hands together with shadows and cracks.
Let you drift by the dark of the moon, not saying a word.
Listening to where the ashes are hidden in your dreams.
The fact that you will sleep like the middle of the night,
without ever looking at it. The sounds of my nightmares
always like danger without an escort.
Like sitting beside me in the mirror.
Watching so many suitors even the dead will be recognized,
and they only intend to stay for a short while.
Maybe just long enough, to try on each other's thoughts,
like glue for the past but not for so many dreams.
Those nailed to the evenings and advertising to the constellations;
An elegy that will be forgotten, but will long remain.
A fate that knows all the answers, and is still always guessing.
That any son or daughter belongs to the sky,
and yours has made it mine, and i thought it was the end.
When no one cares who will live and die again;
When i lost my way out inside your head,
but i will keep on trying. I'll be there
with hopes to remember.
poem by Gregory Collins
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Moon Dreams
My dream is moonlight
dancing on a quiet breeze
of secrets grinning.
~ ~ ~
The sky spills out its
moon is full and hovers while
new light is swimming.
~ ~ ~
Slivers of moonlight
etch the surface of my mind
like diamonds on glass.
~ ~ ~
The moon outside my
window whispers moonlit dreams
of a silent wind.
~ ~ ~
Silence slips through a
Milky Way smile on a cruise
that sails to the moon.
poem by Rick Stokes
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I am in full dream
Long long miles away from you
Under the open deep blue sky
Besides the ever flowing river
I stand alone, and feel very lonely
My heart and mind is open to listen
The mystic music of nature deeply
the sound of the cricket seems to me
is the best, sweeter of the sweetest
Blowing of the wind is very soothing
The firefly dances with the singing
Of the birds, and the golden sun adds
Some colours, the call of the fox is like
Beating of the drums, the occasional sound
Of the frogs in the water is thrilling enough,
the his his sound of leaves raises my hairs
the queen, night, comes in along with moon light
I swallow the beauty with delight.
I wanted to share with you, ah! I miss you very much,
The worries of my life crowded out but your memories crowded in
now I am in full dream along with your memories mingled
with the beauty of the moon.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Dancing On The Moon
(ian hunter/darrell bath/honest john plain)
(transcribed by colin ford)
Oh!!
Well I climbed through the fence, out with the (? ), head for the river plate(? ).
The rivers not tame, heat in the city meant dogs cant smell the same.
Dont wait up, Ill be home soon, but I cant come now cos im
Dancing on the (dancing, dancing) moon, yeah.
(dancing, dancing....)
I crawl like a snake, seen a better daybreak, I sleep when Im wide awake.
All my bodys achin, I know theyre tryin to break me, but thats a chance i
Gotta take.
Oh, dont wait up, Ill be home soon, but I cant come now cos im
Dancing, dancing, dancing (dancing on the moon) dancing, dancing, dancing on
The moon
All right.
Im outside a memphis, my motors little danger(? ) she gives me
Pharmaceuticals
Knowin my friends, they help me beat the hangman, they know Im innocent
Well thats all right, Ill be home soon, but I cant come now cos im
Dancing, dancing (dancing, dancing) on the moon
(dancing, dancing on the moon) .
I can see your house in between the trees
I can feel your body shakin in between my knees.
You know it feels so low, I come so far
I always love to have some fire on me
Youre looking so good
Well I got me a room, cant say where it is, you can guess the address
Well I need some money, need it in a special place, not try the weaknesses(? )
Wake up (? ) , nursin my wounds, I told you I was comin, I was comin home soon. yeah.
(want you, want you, want you, want you right away, )
((to fade))
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twilight In The North
O THE long northern twilight between the day and the night,
When the heat and the weariness of the world are ended quite:
When the hills grow dim as dreams, and the crystal river seems
Like that River of Life from out the Throne where the blessèd walk in white.
O the weird northern twilight, which is neither night nor day,
When the amber wake of the long-set sun still marks his western way:
And but one great golden star in the deep blue east afar
Warns of sleep, and dark, and midnight--of oblivion and decay.
O the calm northern twilight, when labor is all done,
And the birds in drowsy twitter have dropped silent one by one:
And nothing stirs or sighs in mountains, waters, skies,--
Earth sleeps--but her heart waketh, till the rising of the sun.
O the sweet, sweet twilight, just before the time of rest,
When the black clouds are driven away, and the stormy winds suppressed:
And the dead day smiles so bright, filling earth and heaven with light,--
You would think 't was dawn come back again--but the light is in the west.
O the grand solemn twilight, spreading peace from pole to pole!--
Ere the rains sweep o'er the hillsides, and the waters rise and roll,
In the lull and the calm, come, O angel with the palm--
In the still norther twilight, Azrael, take my soul.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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The Song of the Pilgrims
(Halted around the fire by night, after moon-set, they sing this beneath the trees.)
What light of unremembered skies
Hast thou relumed within our eyes,
Thou whom we seek, whom we shall find? . . .
A certain odour on the wind,
Thy hidden face beyond the west,
These things have called us; on a quest
Older than any road we trod,
More endless than desire. . . .
Far God,
Sigh with thy cruel voice, that fills
The soul with longing for dim hills
And faint horizons! For there come
Grey moments of the antient dumb
Sickness of travel, when no song
Can cheer us; but the way seems long;
And one remembers. . . .
Ah! the beat
Of weary unreturning feet,
And songs of pilgrims unreturning! . . .
The fires we left are always burning
On the old shrines of home. Our kin
Have built them temples, and therein
Pray to the Gods we know; and dwell
In little houses lovable,
Being happy (we remember how!)
And peaceful even to death. . . .
O Thou,
God of all long desirous roaming,
Our hearts are sick of fruitless homing,
And crying after lost desire.
Hearten us onward! as with fire
Consuming dreams of other bliss.
The best Thou givest, giving this
Sufficient thing - to travel still
Over the plain, beyond the hill,
Unhesitating through the shade,
Amid the silence unafraid,
Till, at some sudden turn, one sees
Against the black and muttering trees
Thine altar, wonderfully white,
Among the Forests of the Night.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1907)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Song of the Pilgrims, The
(Halted around the fire by night, after moon-set, they sing this beneath the trees.)
What light of unremembered skies
Hast thou relumed within our eyes,
Thou whom we seek, whom we shall find? . . .
A certain odour on the wind,
Thy hidden face beyond the west,
These things have called us; on a quest
Older than any road we trod,
More endless than desire. . . .
Far God,
Sigh with thy cruel voice, that fills
The soul with longing for dim hills
And faint horizons! For there come
Grey moments of the antient dumb
Sickness of travel, when no song
Can cheer us; but the way seems long;
And one remembers. . . .
Ah! the beat
Of weary unreturning feet,
And songs of pilgrims unreturning! . . .
The fires we left are always burning
On the old shrines of home. Our kin
Have built them temples, and therein
Pray to the Gods we know; and dwell
In little houses lovable,
Being happy (we remember how!)
And peaceful even to death. . . .
O Thou,
God of all long desirous roaming,
Our hearts are sick of fruitless homing,
And crying after lost desire.
Hearten us onward! as with fire
Consuming dreams of other bliss.
The best Thou givest, giving this
Sufficient thing -- to travel still
Over the plain, beyond the hill,
Unhesitating through the shade,
Amid the silence unafraid,
Till, at some sudden turn, one sees
Against the black and muttering trees
Thine altar, wonderfully white,
Among the Forests of the Night.
poem by Rupert Brooke
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I Dreamed Of Forest Alleys fair
I.
I DREAMED of forest alleys fair
And fields of gray-flowered grass,
Where by the yellow summer moon
My Jenny seemed to pass.
I dreamed the yellow summer moon,
Behind a cedar wood,
Lay white on fields of rippling grass
Where I and Jenny stood.
I dreamed - but fallen through my dream,
In a rainy land I lie
Where wan wet morning crowns the hills
Of grim reality.
II.
I am as one that keeps awake
All night in the month of June,
That lies awake in bed to watch
The trees and great white moon.
For memories of love are more
Than the white moon there above,
And dearer than quiet moonshine
Are the thoughts of her I love.
III.
Last night I lingered long without
My last of loves to see.
Alas! the moon-white window-panes
Stared blindly back on me.
To-day I hold her very hand,
Her very waist embrace -
Like clouds across a pool, I read
Her thoughts upon her face.
And yet, as now, through her clear eyes
I seek the inner shrine -
I stoop to read her virgin heart
In doubt if it be mine -
O looking long and fondly thus,
What vision should I see?
No vision, but my own white face
That grins and mimics me.
IV.
Once more upon the same old seat
In the same sunshiny weather,
The elm-trees' shadows at their feet
And foliage move together.
The shadows shift upon the grass,
The dial point creeps on;
The clear sun shines, the loiterers pass,
As then they passed and shone.
But now deep sleep is on my heart,
Deep sleep and perfect rest.
Hope's flutterings now disturb no more
The quiet of my breast.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Full Cold Moon
This night
All light
Full still moon
Lamp lit
Silhouette
Full still moon
Many faces
Secret places
Full still moon
Supernal eye
In the sky
Full still moon
Big stone
Cold Alone
Full still moon
In reverie
A memory
Full still moon
Only one
You are
gone
Only night
to dream
upon
Full
Cold
Moon
poem by Ari' Anna Arena
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Slow Dancing With The Moon
Sweet little cherry blossom, blooming before her time
Moving her lips to her favorite song, cherishing every rhyme
Swaying her hips to the rhythm, humming along with the tune
Lost in her own little dream world, slow dancing with the moon
Watching her I cannot help but go back in my mind
And suddenly I find I am 15 again
Slow dancing with the moon
Oh, the stars got in my eyes long time ago
And Ive lived my life like a love sick clown
In a bittersweet cartoon
Just a dreamy-eyed kid slow dancing with the moon
Watching the girl Im reminded shes quite a lot like me
Trapped in the suburbs of wonderland, lost in her own fantasy
Somehow my heart never grew up, no one ever burst my balloon
So here I am swirling in star dust slow dancing with the moon
Still believe someday my wildest dreams will all come true
And Ill find someone wholl make me 15 again
But until then Im slow dancing with the moon
Oh, the stars got in my eyes long time ago
And Ive lived my life like a love sick clown
In a bittersweet cartoon
Just a dreamy-eyed kid slow dancing with the moon
Tag:
Still a starry-eyed kid slow dancing with the moon
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Advent
This Advent moon shines cold and clear,
These Advent nights are long;
Our lamps have burned year after year
And still their flame is strong.
'Watchman, what of the night?' we cry,
Heart-sick with hope deferred:
'No speaking signs are in the sky,'
Is still the watchman's word.
The Porter watches at the gate,
The servants watch within;
The watch is long betimes and late,
The prize is slow to win.
'Watchman, what of the night?' But still
His answer sounds the same:
'No daybreak tops the utmost hill,
Nor pale our lamps of flame.'
One to another hear them speak
The patient virgins wise:
'Surely He is not far to seek'—
'All night we watch and rise.'
'The days are evil looking back,
The coming days are dim;
Yet count we not His promise slack,
But watch and wait for Him.'
One with another, soul with soul,
They kindle fire from fire:
'Friends watch us who have touched the goal.'
'They urge us, come up higher.'
'With them shall rest our waysore feet,
With them is built our home,
With Christ.'—'They sweet, but He most sweet,
Sweeter than honeycomb.'
There no more parting, no more pain,
The distant ones brought near,
The lost so long are found again,
Long lost but longer dear:
Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard,
Nor heart conceived that rest,
With them our good things long deferred,
With Jesus Christ our Best.
We weep because the night is long,
We laugh for day shall rise,
We sing a slow contented song
And knock at Paradise.
Weeping we hold Him fast, Who wept
For us, we hold Him fast;
And will not let Him go except
He bless us first or last.
Weeping we hold Him fast to-night;
We will not let Him go
Till daybreak smite our wearied sight
And summer smite the snow:
Then figs shall bud, and dove with dove
Shall coo the livelong day;
Then He shall say, 'Arise, My love,
My fair one, come away.'
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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I Will Not Be With You
Remember if I
cannot be with you.
I will not be with you.
My love.
The choice is yours.
For a little longer.
My love.
Not for eternity,
or for as long as
the stars,
will shine
in the heavens,
above my love.
The choice is only yours.
For a little longer. My love.
I will soon blaze away
like a comet my love.
Remember if I cannot
be with you. My love.
You should fall
under the spell
of the moon. My love.
You should follow
the passions of a lover’s
moon. My love.
You should make love
in the night, under moonlight,
with me. My love.
In the pale moonlight,
our love will shine bright.
My love.
In the full moonlight,
our love will consume night.
My love.
In the full moonlight,
as bright as the sun,
radiant for us. My love.
The years are swiftly
speeding by.
My love.
The years are coming
and going like a comet’s
flight. My love.
The years are passing
and then we must die.
My love.
Then after I die
I cannot be with you.
After I die I cannot
be with you.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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