En.Citatepedia^®.ro

To Laura

Cease, Laura, cease, suspect no more
This careless heart has learnt to love,
Because on yonder lonely shore
I still at pensive evening rove;

Because of Henry's worth I speak
With eager warmth and sparkling eye;
Because his favourite haunts I seek,
And still o'erjoyed to meet him fly:....

But, Laura, should my faltering tongue
Refuse to speak in Henry's praise,
My trembling voice deny the song
When Henry claims his favourite lays;

When Henry comes, should I neglect
With smiles the welcome youth to seek,
But meet him full of cold respect,
While conscious blushes paint my cheek;

Should I, when Ella shares his praise,
Heave deeply-drawn but smothered sighs,
And, when on me he deigns to gaze,
Fix on the earth my conscious eyes;....

Then, I'll no more thy charge deny,
No more thy tender fears reprove:
Then, Laura, heave compassion's sigh,
For mine will be the sigh of love.

poem by Amelia Opie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Elegy, to Laura

Too heedless friend, why thus augment the flame
That glows resistless in my beating breast?
Why with thy praises grace his fatal name,
Who robs thy Emma's hapless heart of rest?

Why needest thou dwell on Henry's graceful ease;
Why praise the timid worth his glance reveals;
Why speak enraptured of his power to please,
Whose power to wound my aching bosom feels?

Say not, "That gentle voice was formed for love,"
Nor in his eyes such sweet expression see;
Say not, that tenderness those glances prove,
Which never fix with tenderness on me.

Too well my Henry's charms I've numbered o'er,
And thus to end the fond survey is mine:
His heart will own some brighter fair one's power;
Think not, lost Emma, he can e'er be thine.

Yet why despair? Though Beauty's boasted rose
On others' cheeks in livelier colours shine,
The tender heart that in my bosom glows
The palm of fondness will to none resign.

Though brighter radiance beams in others' eyes,
By shape, by colour formed the soul to steal;
If Love's expression Henry's heart can prize,
Then, Henry's heart the power of mine must feel.

Yet vain the hope: "Fond maid, thy love suppress,"
Calm Reason cries; "go, learn to check the sigh:
But, if resolved to love in rash excess,
Seek out some lonely shade, despair, and die!"

Then, Laura, bid to Henry's praise farewel!
Forget his merit, and my hopeless flame;
On the dear theme no more ill-judging dwell,
And from thy memory blot his fatal name.

But if I urge this plaintive prayer in vain,
Bid execrations on that name attend;
And him, my Laura, view with cold disdain,
Who sees unmoved the sorrows of thy friend.

Say, such the scorn, the pride of Henry's breast,
It cannot Love's endearing softness share,
Say, vice degrades....Hold! slight my wild request,
Nor by such calumny my fury dare.

No....from my frantic wishes still appeal,
Declare that Henry is from error free;
Or the keen hate for him I bade thee feel,
My wayward heart will learn to feel for thee.

poem by Amelia Opie
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Love Elegy, to Henry

Then thou hast learnt the secret of my soul,
Officious Friendship has its trust betrayed;
No more I need the bursting sigh control,
Nor summon pride my struggling soul to aid.

But think not banished hope returns again,
Think not I write thy thankless heart to move;
The faded form that tells my tender pain
May win thy pity, but it can't thy love.

Nor can I move thee by soft winning art,
By manners taught to charm, or practised glance;
Artless as thine, my too too feeling heart
Disdains the tutored eye, the fond advance.

The cold coquette, to win her destined prey,
May feign a passion which she ne'er can feel;
But I true Passion's soft commands obey,
And fain my tender feelings would conceal.

In others' eyes, when fixed on thine, I see
That fondness painted which alone I know;
Think not, my Henry, they can love like me,
More love I hide than they can e'er bestow.

While tender glances their emotions speak,
And oft they heave and oft suppress the sigh;
O turn to me, behold my pallid cheek
Shrinking from thine, behold my downcast eye!

While they by mirth, by wit, thine ear amuse,
And by their eloquence thy plaudits seek;
See me the fond contention still refuse,
Nor in thy presence, Henry, dare to speak.

When asked to breathe the soul-enchanting song,
See them o'erjoyed exert their utmost art;
While vainly I would join the choral throng,
Lost are those tones which once could touch the heart.

But, Henry, wert thou in Love's language wise,
Vainly would others more than Emma shine;
Beyond their sweetest strains thy heart would prize
One faint, one broken, tender tone of mine.

O proofs of passion, eloquent as vain!
By thee unheeded, or perhaps unknown,....
But learn, the pangs that prompt this pensive strain,
Ere long, disdainful youth, may be thine own.

Ah! no....in hopeless love thou canst not pine,
Thou ne'er canst woo the brightest maid in vain;
For thee Love's star midst cloudless skies will shine,
And light thy graceful steps to Hymen's fane:

While I, as hope, and strength, and life recede,
Far, far from thee shall waste the languid day;
Blest, if the scroll that speaks thy bliss I read,
But far more blest to feel life's powers decay.

poem by Amelia Opie
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To Lothario

Think not, Lothario, while I view
The bright expression of thy face,
And on thy cheek of crimson hue
Emotion's varying beauties trace,

That in my heart one feeling dwells,
But what the coldest must approve,
Nor think my conscious bosom swells
With aught resembling secret love.

No....still these eyes can fix on thine,
Nor fear their keenest glance to meet;
And when thou boldly searchest mine,
My quiet heart disdains to beat.

But, if by vain self-love misled,
Thou in my looks canst passion see;
And think, by weak illusions fed,
My towering hopes aspire to thee....

Let us my absent Henry seek;
And when he meets my conscious eyes,
In every glance my heart will speak,
And plainly tell for whom it sighs.

poem by Amelia Opie
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Secret Love

Not one kind look....one friendly word!
Wilt thou in chilling silence sit;
Nor through the social hour afford
One cheering smile, or beam of wit?

Yet still, absorbed in studious care,
Neglect to waste one look on me;
For then my happy eyes may dare
To gaze and dwell unchecked on thee.

And still in silence sit, nor deign
One gentle precious word to say;
For silent I may then remain,
Nor let my voice my soul betray.

This faltering voice, these conscious eyes,
My throbbing heart too plainly speak:
There timid hopeless passion lies,
And bids it silence keep, and break .

To me how dear this twilight hour,
Cheered by the faggot's varying blaze!
If this be mine, I ask no more
On morn's refulgent light to gaze:

For now, while on HIS glowing cheek
I see the fire's red radiance fall,
The darkest seat I softly seek,
And gaze on HIM , unseen by all.

His folded arms, his studious brow,
His thoughtful eye, unmarked, I see;
Nor could his voice or words bestow
So dear, so true a joy on me.

But he forgets that I am near....
Fame, future fame, in thought he seeks:
To him ambition's paths appear,
And bright the sun of science breaks.

His heart with ardent hope is filled;
His prospects full of beauty bloom:
But, oh! my heart despair has chilled,
My only prospect is....the tomb!

One only boon from Heaven I claim,
And may it grant the fond desire!
That I may live to hear his fame,
And in that throb of joy expire .

Oft hast thou marked my chilling eye,
And mourned my cold reserve to see,
Resolved the fickle friend to fly,
Who seemed unjust to worth and thee:

While I, o'erjoyed, thy anger saw....
Blest proof I had not tried in vain
To give imperious passion law,
And hide my bosom's conscious pain.

But when night's sheltering darkness came,
And none the conscious wretch could view,
How fiercely burned the smothered flame!
How deep was every sigh I drew!

Yet still to thee I'll clothe my brow
In all that jealous pride requires;
My look the type of Ætna's snow....
My heart, of Ætna's secret fires.

One little moment, short as blest,
Compassion Love's soft semblance wore;
My meagre form he fondly pressed,
And on his beating bosom bore.

His frame with strong emotion shook,
And kindness tuned each faltering word;
While I, surprised, with anxious look
The meaning of his glance explored.

But soon my too experienced heart
Read nought but generous pity there;
I felt presumptuous hope depart,
And all again was dark despair.

Yet still, in memory still, my heart
Lives o'er that fleeting bliss again;
I feel his glance, his touch, impart
Emotion through each bursting vein.

And "Once ," I cry, "those eyes so sweet
On me with fondness deigned to shine;
For once I felt his bosom beat
Against the conscious throbs of mine!"

Nor shall the dear remembrance die
While aught of life to me is given;
But soothe my last convulsive sigh,
And be, till then, my joy....my heaven!

poem by Amelia Opie
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Song: Yes, Mary Ann

Yes, Mary Ann, I freely grant,
The charms of Henry's eyes I see;
But while I gaze, I something want,
I want those eyes -- to gaze on me.

And I allow, in Henry's heart
Not Envy's self a fault can see:
Yet still I must one wish impart,
I wish that heart -- to sigh for me.

poem by Thomas Lovell Beddoes
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Song: Yes, Mary Ann, I Freely Grant

Yes, Mary Ann, I freely grant,
The charms of Henry's eyes I see;
But while I gaze, I something want,
I want those eyes -- to gaze on me.

And I allow, in Henry's heart
Not Envy's self a fault can see:
Yet still I must one wish impart,
I wish that heart -- to sigh for me.

poem by Amelia Opie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yes, Mary Ann

Yes, Mary Ann, I freely grant,
The charms of Henry's eyes I see;
But while I gaze, I something want,
I want those eyes -- to gaze on me.

And I allow, in Henry's heart
Not Envy's self a fault can see:
Yet still I must one wish impart,
I wish that heart -- to sigh for me.

poem by Amelia Opie
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Remembrance

How dear to me the twilight hour!
It breathes, it speaks of pleasures past;
When Laura sought this humble bower,
And o'er it courtly splendours cast.

Fond fancy's friend, dim twilight, hail!
Thou canst the absent nymph restore;
And as around thy shadows sail,
They bring the form I still adore.

Again her pensive smile I view,
Her modest eye's soft chastened fire;
And mark her cheek of tender hue
From thee a softer tint acquire.

No eye but mine in that dim hour
The softly blushing maid could see;
And then her voice of magic power
Charmed with its sweetness none but me.

But now, alas! to distant plains,
To crowded scenes, perhaps, she flies;
She speaks, to charm unnumbered swains;
She smiles, to bless unnumbered eyes.

Yet if, while crowds before thee bow,
Thy lips to favouring smiles incline,
Think not, sweet maid, their bosoms glow
With love as pure, as true as mine.

Reflect,....I knelt before thy feet,
Afraid to speak, or look, or move,
Nor e'en thy pity dared entreat
For hours of hopeless pining love.

They can with bold unfaltering tongue
Their loudly-boasted flame reveal;
But, Laura, spurn the heartless throng,
They talk of pangs I only feel .

From glowing cheeks, and sparkling eyes,
O turn, my Laura! turn to him
From whose sunk cheek the colour flies,
Whose eye with hopeless love is dim.

O turn to me, whose blighted youth
The wreck of former days appears!....
But well the change has proved my truth,
And thou wilt own that change endears.

Yet, no; ah, no! forget, forget
My ardent love, my faith, and me;
Remember not we ever met;
I would not cause one pang to thee.

And when I hear that thou art blest,
My own distress I'll learn to scorn;
I'll bid imperious anguish rest,
While smiles my pallid lips adorn.

Deep in my heart the load of grief,
Concealed from every glance, shall lie;
Till sorrow proves its own relief,
And I shall suffer, smile, and die.

poem by Amelia Opie
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Ballad

Round youthful Henry's restless bed
His weeping friends and parents pressed;
But she who raised his languid head
He loved far more than all the rest.

Fond mutual love their bosoms fired;
And nearly dawned their bridal day,
When every hope at once expired,
For Henry on his death-bed lay.

The fatal truth the sufferer read
In weeping Lucy's downcast eye:
"And must I, must I, then," he said,
"Ere thou art mine, my Lucy, die!

"No,...deign to grant my last, last prayer;
'T would soothe thy lover's parting breath,
Wouldst thou with me to church repair,
Ere yet I feel the stroke of death.

"For trust me, love, I shall my life
With something like to joy resign,
If I but once may call thee wife,
And, dying, claim and hail thee mine."

He ceased: and Lucy checked the thought
That he might at the altar die,....
The prayer with such true love was fraught,
How could she such a prayer deny?

They reached the church....her cheek was wan
With chilling fears of coming woe....
But triumph when the rites began
Lent Henry's cheek a flattering glow.

The nuptial knot was scarcely tied,
When Henry's eye strange lustre fired,
"She's mine! she's mine!" he faltering cried,
And in that throb of joy expired.

poem by Amelia Opie
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A Thanksgiving

Lord, in this dust Thy sovereign voice
First quicken'd love divine;
I am all Thine,—Thy care and choice,
My very praise is Thine.

I praise Thee, while Thy providence
In childhood frail I trace,
For blessings given, ere dawning sense
Could seek or scan Thy grace;

Blessings in boyhood's marvelling hour,
Bright dreams, and fancyings strange;
Blessings, when reason's awful power
Gave thought a bolder range; {46}

Blessings of friends, which to my door
Unask'd, unhoped, have come;
And, choicer still, a countless store
Of eager smiles at home.

Yet, Lord, in memory's fondest place
I shrine those seasons sad,
When, looking up, I saw Thy face
In kind austereness clad.

I would not miss one sigh or tear,
Heart-pang, or throbbing brow;
Sweet was the chastisement severe,
And sweet its memory now.

Yes! let the fragrant scars abide,
Love-tokens in Thy stead,
Faint shadows of the spear-pierced side
And thorn-encompass'd head.

And such Thy tender force be still,
When self would swerve or stray,
Shaping to truth the froward will
Along Thy narrow way. {47}

Deny me wealth; far, far remove
The lure of power or name;
Hope thrives in straits, in weakness love,
And faith in this world's shame.

poem by John Henry Newman
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Please, Mrs. Henry

Well, i've already had two beers
I'm ready for the broom
Please, missus henry, won't you
Take me to my room?
I'm a good ol' boy
But i've been sniffin' too many eggs
Talkin' to too many people
Drinkin' too many kegs
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
Well, i'm groanin' in a hallway
Pretty soon i'll be mad
Please, missus henry, won't you
Take me to your dad?
I can drink like a fish
I can crawl like a snake
I can bite like a turkey
I can slam like a drake
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
Now, don't crowd me, lady
Or i'll fill up your shoe
I'm a sweet bourbon daddy
An' tonight i am blue
I'm a thousand years old
And i'm a generous bomb
I'm t-boned and punctured
But i'm known to be calm
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime
Now, i'm startin' to drain
My stool's gonna squeak
If i walk too much farther
My crane's gonna leak
Look, missus henry
There's only so much i can do
Why don't you look my way
An' pump me a few?
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
Please, missus henry, missus henry, please!
I'm down on my knees
An' i ain't got a dime

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Baby Let's Swing

Laura, i saw you open in la
There's something i gotta say
Laura, you know it's really been such a long, long time
And you know laura, i knew you'd make it good someday
And you knew it anyway
Laura, i know that maybe this is the wrong, wrong time
But laura where did that magic go
It's so hard, it's so cold down here
Did you have to leave me behind?
I wish that i could make it
But how i love to shuffle (how i love to shuffle)
Baby let's swing
Now i love to shuffle
Ever since i heard you sing (since i heard her sing)
Laura, i saw you in that magazine
You looked like a gypsy queen
Laura, i beat around the bush 'cause it's oh so hard
But you know laura, it's not the best it's ever been
I think you know what i mean
I wish you'd take a look in your own back yard
To see that someone has seen it all
Seen you climb, seen you fall so low
If you have to leave it behind
I'll carry it on for ya, 'cause it's oh so hard
Baby let's swing
Now i love to shuffle
Ever since i heard you sing

song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loving Henry

Henry, Henry, do you love me?
Do I love you, Mary?
Oh, can you mean to liken me
To the aspen tree.
Whose leaves do shake and vary,
From white to green
And back again,
Shifting and contrary?

Henry, Henry, do you love me,
Do you love me truly?
Oh, Mary, must I say again
My love's a pain,
A torment most unruly?
It tosses me
Like a ship at sea
When the storm rages fully.

Henry, Henry, why do you love me?
Mary, dear, have pity!
I swear, of all the girls there are
Both near and far,
In country or in city,
There's none like you,
So kind, so true,
So wise, so brave, so pretty.

poem by Robert Graves
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Dont Ya Tell Henry

Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
I went down to the river on a saturday morn,
A-lookin around just to see whos born.
I found a little chicken down on his knees,
I went up and yelled to him,
Please, please, please!
He said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
I went down to the corner at a-half past ten,
Is lookin around, I wouldnt say when.
I looked down low, I looked above,
And who did I see but the one I love.
She said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
Now, I went down to the beanery at half past twelve,
A-lookin around just to see myself.
I spotted a horse and a donkey, too,
I looked for a cow and I saw me a few.
They said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.
Now, I went down to the pumphouse the other night,
A-lookin around, it was outa sight.
I looked high and low for that big ol tree,
I did go upstairs but I didnt see nobody but me.
I said, dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Dont ya tell henry,
Apples got your fly.

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Praise the Lord, God's Glories Show

Praise the Lord, God’s glories show, Alleluia!
Saints within God’s courts below, Alleluia!
Angels round the throne above, Alleluia!
All that see and share God’s love, Alleluia!

Earth to heaven and heaven to earth, Alleluia!
Tell the wonders, sing God’s worth, Alleluia!
Age to age and shore to shore, Alleluia!
Praise God, praise forevermore! Alleluia!

Praise the Lord, great mercies trace, Alleluia!
Praise His providence and grace, Alleluia!
All that God for us has done, Alleluia!
All God sends us through the Son. Alleluia!

Strings and voices, hands and hearts, Alleluia!
In the concert bear your parts, Alleluia!
All that breathe, your Lord adore, Alleluia!
Praise Him, praise Him evermore!

poem by Henry Francis Lyte
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Saved By Love

Laura loves her little family,
And shes the kind of woman who loves them with her life.
But sometimes in the evening,
When the world rests on her shoulders
With four walls closing in,
Shell close her eyes.
Oh....
Its not like she misses being younger,
Though she never was in vogue magazine or on tv;
Her husband loves her dearly,
And the morning shows her clearly,
Kisses her little baby girl.
Laura, shes the queen of the world.
Cant imagine ever leaving now,
Now that shes been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
Listen to her quiet heart singing loud.
Laura, shes been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
I know that shes been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
Saved by love.
Theres nothing quite like my familys love to warm me,
And nothing short of deaths gonna ever leave me cold.
Well, still at times its lonely,
But through it all it only
Makes me love jesus more,
And this is what he came here for.
I cant imagine ever leaving now.
Now that Ive been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
Hes gone and turned my crazy world back around,
And Ive been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
I know that Ive been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love....
Oh, Im never leaving now,
Now that Ive been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
Hes gone and turned my crazy world back around,
And Ive been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
Amy, shes been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love....
Saved by love.
Im saved by love.
Thats right.
And nothing I can say,
Nothing I can do, nothing I can say.
Were all just saved by love.
Nothing you can say, nothing you can do.
Only love can say, only love can do,
Only love can say.
Only love can say, only love can do,
Only love can say.
Im say-yay-yaved by,
Im saved by, by,
Nothing you can do, nothing you can say,
Only love can say....

song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laura

Laura is the face in the misty lights
Footsteps that you hear down the hall
The laugh that floats on a summer night
That you can never quite recall
And you see laura on the train that is passing through
Those eyes how familiar they seem
She gave your very first kiss to you
That was laura but shes only a dream

And you see laura on the train that is passing through
Those eyes how familiar they seem
She gave your very first kiss to you
That was laura but shes only a dream

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Laura Said It Wasn't Red

Look real quickly over there
The hottest girl with auburn hair
She's a beauty not a queen
Queens don't come in red and green

Redhead hot now it's your turn
She will make your fingers burn
Laura said, 'it isn't red!
' 'Auburn is it's shade instead'

Redheads quickly fog my glasses
Redheads have the hottest asses
Watch out for their terse replies
Redheads wise and cause demise

I loved Laura with hair not red
Then i begged her into bed
Laura's body was divine
The demise was mine all mine

Laura begged me into bed
Laura said her hair ain't red
Who am i to disagree?
She took my virginity

poem by Beau Golden
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Hymn - A Sacred Concert

I

Faint falls the gentle voice of prayer
In the wild sounds that fill the air,
Yet, Lord, we know that voice is heard,
Not less than if Thy throne it stirred.

II

Thine ear, thou tender One, is caught,
If we but bend the knee in thought;
No choral song that shakes the sky
Floats farther than the Christian's sigh.

III

Not all the darkness of the land
Can hide the lifted eye and hand;
Nor need the clanging conflict cease,
To make Thee hear our cries for peace.

poem by Henry Timrod
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Hymn Sung At A Sacred Concert At Columbia, S.C.

I

Faint falls the gentle voice of prayer
In the wild sounds that fill the air,
Yet, Lord, we know that voice is heard,
Not less than if Thy throne it stirred.

II

Thine ear, thou tender One, is caught,
If we but bend the knee in thought;
No choral song that shakes the sky
Floats farther than the Christian's sigh.

III

Not all the darkness of the land
Can hide the lifted eye and hand;
Nor need the clanging conflict cease,
To make Thee hear our cries for peace.

poem by Henry Timrod
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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