New York at Night
A near horizon whose sharp jags
Cut brutally into a sky
Of leaden heaviness, and crags
Of houses lift their masonry
Ugly and foul, and chimneys lie
And snort, outlined against the gray
Of lowhung cloud. I hear the sigh
The goaded city gives, not day
Nor night can ease her heart, her anguished labours stay.
Below, straight streets, monotonous,
From north and south, from east and west,
Stretch glittering; and luminous
Above, one tower tops the rest
And holds aloft man's constant quest:
Time! Joyless emblem of the greed
Of millions, robber of the best
Which earth can give, the vulgar creed
Has seared upon the night its flaming ruthless screed.
O Night! Whose soothing presence brings
The quiet shining of the stars.
O Night! Whose cloak of darkness clings
So intimately close that scars
Are hid from our own eyes. Beggars
By day, our wealth is having night
To burn our souls before altars
Dim and tree-shadowed, where the light
Is shed from a young moon, mysteriously bright.
Where art thou hiding, where thy peace?
This is the hour, but thou art not.
Will waking tumult never cease?
Hast thou thy votary forgot?
Nature forsakes this man-begot
And festering wilderness, and now
The long still hours are here, no jot
Of dear communing do I know;
Instead the glaring, man-filled city groans below!
poem by Amy Lowell
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Related quotes
Hast Thou Forgotten Me?
HAST thou forgotten me? the days are dark—
Light ebbs from heaven, and songless soars the lark—
Vexed like my heart, loud moans the unquiet sea—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? O dead delight
Whose dreams and memories torture me to-night—
O love—my life! O sweet—so fair to see—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Lo, if one should say—
Noontide were night, or night were flaming day—
Grief blinds mine eyes, I know not which it be!
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Ah, if Death should come,
Close my sad eyes, and charm my song-bird dumb—
Tired of strange woes—my fate were hailed with glee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? What joy have I?
A dim blown bird beneath an alien sky,—
O that on mighty pinions I could flee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Yea, Love’s horoscope
Is blurred with tears and suffering beyond Hope—
Ah, like dead leaves forsaken of the tree,
Thou hast forgotten me.
poem by Philip Joseph Holdsworth
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Remorse. (From August Von Platen)
How I started up in the night, in the night,
Drawn on without rest or reprieval!
The streets, with their watchmen, were lost to my sight,
As I wandered so light
In the night, in the night,
Through the gate with the arch mediaeval.
The mill-brook rushed from the rocky height,
I leaned o'er the bridge in my yearning;
Deep under me watched I the waves in their flight,
As they glided so light
In the night, in the night,
Yet backward not one was returning.
O'erhead were revolving, so countless and bright,
The stars in melodious existence;
And with them the moon, more serenely bedight;--
They sparkled so light
In the night, in the night,
Through the magical, measureless distance.
And upward I gazed in the night, in the night,
And again on the waves in their fleeting;
Ah woe! thou hast wasted thy days in delight,
Now silence thou light,
In the night, in the night,
The remorse in thy heart that is beating.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Awaiting Thee
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song.
When thou art gone;
My waking hours are filled only with thoughts of thee.
When I sleep,
My dreams are filled with thee-
As I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Lonely day,
After lonely day.
Lonely night,
After lonely night.
When The sun shines bright,
And the songbirds sing their joyous chorus-
It reminds me of this love of ours-
As I long for thee.
I await thee,
My love-
Throughout the lonely day-
Till the setting sun dwindles in dusk’s twilight-
Beyond golden pastures-
Fading in the night.
My love;
I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Throughout the lonely night,
As the crickets chirp their symphony,
And in the darkness,
Like floating candles,
The fireflies glow.
And I remember our love,
As I gaze at the silver moon,
And diamond stars.
Forever embracing this love of ours.
As I sleep at night,
I dream only of being with thee,
My love.
As I awake,
And the sun rises at dawn over the emerald mountain tops,
I await thee,
My love.
Longing for you-
Day through day,
Night through night-
I await thee,
My love.
My love;
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song…
poem by Philip Alarie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Tired Worker
O whisper, O my soul! The afternoon
Is waning into evening, whisper soft!
Peace, O my rebel heart! for soon the moon
From out its misty veil will swing aloft!
Be patient, weary body, soon the night
Will wrap thee gently in her sable sheet,
And with a leaden sigh thou wilt invite
To rest thy tired hands and aching feet.
The wretched day was theirs, the night is mine;
Come tender sleep, and fold me to thy breast.
But what steals out the gray clouds like red wine?
O dawn! O dreaded dawn! O let me rest
Weary my veins, my brain, my life! Have pity!
No! Once again the harsh, the ugly city.
poem by Claude McKay
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I Await Thee
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song.
When thou art gone;
My waking hours are filled only with thoughts of thee.
When I sleep,
My dreams are filled with thee-
As I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Lonely day,
After lonely day.
Lonely night,
After lonely night.
When The sun shines bright,
And the songbirds sing their joyous chorus-
I remember our love-
As I long for thee.
I await thee,
My love-
Throughout the lonely day-
Till the setting sun dwindles in dusk’s twilight-
Beyond golden pastures-
Fading in the night.
My love;
I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Throughout the lonely night,
As the crickets chirp their symphony,
And in the darkness,
Like floating candles,
The fireflies glow.
And I remember our love,
As I gaze at the silver moon,
And diamond stars.
And I Forever embrace this love of ours.
As I sleep at night,
I dream only of being with thee,
My love.
As I awake,
And the sun rises at dawn over the emerald mountain tops,
I await thee,
My love.
Longing for thee-
Day through day,
Night through night-
I await thee,
My love.
My love;
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song…
poem by Philip Alarie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World's Wanderers
I.
Tell me, thou Star, whose wings of light
Speed thee in thy fiery flight,
In what cavern of the night
Will thy pinions close now?
II.
Tell me, Moon, thou pale and gray
Pilgrim of Heaven’s homeless way,
In what depth of night or day
Seekest thou repose now?
III.
Weary Wind, who wanderest
Like the world’s rejected guest,
Hast thou still some secret nest
On the tree or billow?
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Idea XXXVII: Dear, why should you command me to my rest
Dear, why should you command me to my rest
When now the night doth summon all to sleep?
Methinks this time becometh lovers best;
Night was ordain'd together friends to keep.
How happy are all other living things
Which, though the day disjoin by sev'ral flight,
The quiet ev'ning yet together brings,
And each returns unto his love at night!
O thou that art so courteous else to all,
Why should'st thou, Night, abuse me only thus,
That ev'ry creature to his kind dost call,
And yet 'tis thou dost only sever us?
Well could I wish it would be ever day,
If when night comes you bid me go away.
poem by Michael Drayton
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Sonnet XXXVII: Dear, Why Should You
Dear, why should you command me to my rest
When now the night doth summon all to sleep?
Methinks this time becometh lovers best;
Night was ordain'd, together friends to keep;
How happy are all other living things
Which through the day disjoin by sev'ral flight,
The quiet ev'ning yet together brings,
And each returns unto his love at night.
O thou, that art so courteous else to all,
Why shouldst thou, Night, abuse me only thus,
That ev'ry creature to his kind dost call,
And yet 'tis thou dost only sever us?
Well could I wish it would be ever day,
If when night comes you bid me go away.
poem by Michael Drayton
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City Night
Night is lively.
Night is stunning
Night is pleasurable.
Night is sugary like apple pie.
Night is walking towards with hobo.
Night will never end.
Night is dark.
Night is now simple, sweet, calm, amusing.
I am in love with this city night.
City is covered with this pleasant night.
Night is having the shine of city.
Night is getting wilder.
Night is getting cruel.
Time will never stop running.
Night will over with the time.
Another night will come in this city.
I am waiting for the night.
Here city shed tears
Here city chuckle like a little kid.
Here city dance with the mysterious wind.
I am in love with this city night.
Night never stops coming.
Night will never break its rule.
It will come over and over in this cold blooded city.
But I will never stop loving this city night.
Night is resting.
It will come again into my little black book.
poem by Farzana Hossain
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Night After Night
by Bob Dylan
Night after night you wander the streets of my mind.
Night after night don't know what you think you will find.
No place to go, nowhere to turn,
Everything around you seems to burn, burn, burn.
And there's never any mercy night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night some new plan to blow up the world.
Night after night another old man kissing some young girl.
You look for salvation, you find none.
Just another broken heart, another barrel of a gun,
Just another stick of dynamite night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night you drop dead in your bed,
Night after night another bottle finds a head.
Night after night I think about cutting you loose
But I just can't do it, what would be the use?
So I just keep a holding you tight night after night.
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night
Night after night
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Midsummer Night
Mother of balms and soothings manifold,
Quiet-breathed night whose brooding hours are seven,
To whom the voices of all rest are given,
And those few stars whose scattered names are told,
Far off beyond the westward hills outrolled,
Darker than thou, more still, more dreamy even,
The golden moon leans in the dusky heaven,
And under the one star-a point of gold:
And all go slowly lingering toward the west,
As we go down forgetfully to our rest,
Weary of daytime, tired of noise and light:
Ah, it was time that thou should'st come; for we
Were sore athirst, and had great need of thee,
Thou sweet physician, balmy-blossomed night.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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The Moon
Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light,
Thou seemest most charming to my sight;
As I gaze upon thee in the sky so high,
A tear of joy does moisten mine eye.
Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light,
Thou cheerest the Esquimau in the night;
For thou lettest him see to harpoon the fish,
And with them he makes a dainty dish.
Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light,
Thou cheerest the fox in the night,
And lettest him see to steal the grey goose away
Out of the farm-yard from a stack of hay.
Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light,
Thou cheerest the farmer in the night,
and makes his heart beat high with delight
As he views his crops by the light in the night.
Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light,
Thou cheerest the eagle in the night,
And lettest him see to devour his prey
And carry it to his nest away.
Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light,
Thou cheerest the mariner in the night
As he paces the deck alone,
Thinking of his dear friends at home.
Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light,
Thou cheerest the weary traveller in the night;
For thou lightest up the wayside around
To him when he is homeward bound.
Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light,
Thou cheerest the lovers in the night
As they walk through the shady groves alone,
Making love to each other before they go home.
Beautiful Moon, with thy silvery light,
Thou cheerest the poacher in the night;
For thou lettest him see to set his snares
To catch the rabbit and the hares.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Fasting
'Tis morning now, yet silently I stand,
Uplift the curtain with a weary hand,
Look out while darkness overspreads the way,
And long for day.
Calm peace is frighted with my mood to-night,
Nor visits my dull chamber with her light,
To guide my senses into her sweet rest
And leave me blest.
Long hours since the city rocked and sung
Itself to slumber: only the stars swung
Aloft their torches in the midnight skies
With watchful eyes.
No sound awakes; I, even, breathe no sigh,
Nor hear a single footstep passing by;
Yet I am not alone, for now I feel
A presence steal
Within my chamber walls; I turn to see
The sweetest guest that courts humanity;
With subtle, slow enchantment draws she near,
And Sleep is here.
What care I for the olive branch of Peace?
Kind Sleep will bring a thrice-distilled release,
Nepenthes, that alone her mystic hand
Can understand.
And so she bends, this welcome sorceress,
To crown my fasting with her light caress.
Ah, sure my pain will vanish at the bliss
Of her warm kiss.
But still my duty lies in self-denial;
I must refuse sweet Sleep, although the trial
Will reawaken all my depth of pain.
So once again
I lift the curtain with a weary hand,
With more than sorrow, silently I stand,
Look out while darkness overspreads the way,
And long for day.
"Go, Sleep," I say, "before the darkness die,
To one who needs you even more than I,
For I can bear my part alone, but he
Has need of thee.
"His poor tired eyes in vain have sought relief,
His heart more tired still, with all its grief;
His pain is deep, while mine is vague and dim,
Go thou to him.
"When thou hast fanned him with thy drowsy wings,
And laid thy lips upon the pulsing strings
That in his soul with fret and fever burn,
To me return."
She goes. The air within the quiet street
Reverberates to the passing of her feet;
I watch her take her passage through the gloom
To your dear home.
Beloved, would you knew how sweet to me
Is this denial, and how fervently
I pray that Sleep may lift you to her breast,
And give you rest--
A privilege that she alone can claim.
Would that my heart could comfort you the same,
But in the censer Sleep is swinging high,
All sorrows die.
She comes not back, yet all my miseries
Wane at the thought of your calm sleeping eyes--
Wane, as I hear the early matin bell
The dawn foretell.
And so, dear heart, still silently I stand,
Uplift the curtain with a weary hand,
The long, long night has bitter been and lone,
But now 'tis gone.
Dawn lights her candles in the East once more,
And darkness flees her chariot before;
The Lenten morning breaks with holy ray,
And it is day!
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Sonnet 96: Thought, With Good Cause
Thought, with good cause thou lik'st so well the Night,
Since kind or chance gives both one livery,
Both sadly black, both blackly darken'd be,
Night barr'd from sun, thou from thy own sunlight;
Silence in both displays his sullen might,
Slow Heaviness in both holds one degree--
That full of doubts, thou of perplexity;
Thy tears express Night's native moisture right.
In both a mazeful solitariness:
In Night of sprites the ghastly powers to stir,
In thee, or sprites or sprited ghastliness.
But, but (alas) Night's side the odds hath fur,
For that at length yet doth invite some rest,
Thou though still tir'd, yet still do'st it detest.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Song: Rarely, rarely, comest thou
Rarely, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou are fled away.
How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not.
As a lizard with the shade
Of a trembling leaf,
Thou with sorrow art dismay'd;
Even the sighs of grief
Reproach thee, that thou art not near,
And reproach thou wilt not hear.
Let me set my mournful ditty
To a merry measure;
Thou wilt never come for pity,
Thou wilt come for pleasure;
Pity then will cut away
Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
I love all that thou lovest,
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves dress'd,
And the starry night;
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born.
I love snow, and all the forms
Of the radiant frost;
I love waves, and winds, and storms,
Everything almost
Which is Nature's, and may be
Untainted by man's misery.
I love tranquil solitude,
And such society
As is quiet, wise, and good;
Between thee and me
What difference? but thou dost possess
The things I seek, not love them less.
I love Love--though he has wings,
And like light can flee,
But above all other things,
Spirit, I love thee--
Thou art love and life! Oh come,
Make once more my heart thy home.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Sunrise Gone
Night 's goes from there to here as gentle winds blow north to south flowing west to east the moon bright and full and as bright like a fire but not as warm one star two stars one million stars later flickering away into the night sky existence meaninful to meaningless as a heart bearts heavy and true one second until eternity counting back and forth until first light there goes night hello morning days anew this heart beats slow soft just like a old clock second after second like minutes that turn to hours these seconds that takes away in this beautiful things called life as sacred as your next breath in is reality this existence likes seasons and death birth life flows once more night comes again and darkness covers everything like a blanket one millions stars shimmer back into the picture sparkling away but then night goes fromhere to there back to there and a brand new cycles start all over again......nuff said! !
poem by Dorian Suchelle
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Invocation
Rarely, rarely, comest thou,
Spirit of Delight!
Wherefore hast thou left me now
Many a day and night?
Many a weary night and day
'Tis since thou art fled away.
How shall ever one like me
Win thee back again?
With the joyous and the free
Thou wilt scoff at pain.
Spirit false! thou hast forgot
All but those who need thee not.
As a lizard with the shade
Of a trembling leaf,
Thou with sorrow art dismayed;
Even the sighs of grief
Reproach thee, that thou art not near,
And reproach thou wilt not hear.
Let me set my mournful ditty
To a merry measure;
Thou wilt never come for pity,
Thou wilt come for pleasure; -
Pity then will cut away
Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay.
I love all that thou lovest,
Spirit of Delight!
The fresh Earth in new leaves dressed,
And the starry night;
Autumn evening, and the morn
When the golden mists are born.
I love snow and all the forms
Of the radiant frost;
I love waves, and winds, and storms,
Everything almost
Which is Nature's, and may be
Untainted by man's misery.
I love tranquil solitude,
And such society
As is quiet, wise, and good: -
Between thee and me
What diff'rence? but thou dost possess
The things I seek, not love them less.
I love Love -though he has wings,
And like light can flee,
But above all other things,
Spirit, I love thee -
Thou art love and life! O come!
Make once more my heart thy home!
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Sweet Stay-at-Home
Sweet Stay-at-Home, sweet Well-content,
Thou knowest of no strange continent;
Thou hast not felt thy bosom keep
A gentle motion with the deep;
Thou hast not sailed in Indian seas,
Where scent comes forth in every breeze.
Thou hast not seen the rich grape grow
For miles, as far as eyes can go:
Thou hast not seen a summer's night
When maids could sew by a worm's light;
Nor the North Sea in spring send out
Bright hues that like birds flit about
In solid cages of white ice --
Sweet Stay-at-Home, sweet Love-one-place,
Thou hast not seen black fingers pick
White cotton when the bloom is thick,
Nor heard black throats in harmony;
Nor hast thou sat on stones that lie
Flat on the earth, that once did rise
To hide proud kings from common eyes.
Thou hast not seen plains full of bloom
Where green things had such little room
They pleased the eye like fairer flowers --
Sweet Stay-at-Home, all these long hours.
Sweet Well-content, sweet Love-one-place,
Sweet, simple maid, bless thy dear face;
For thou hast made more homely stuff
Nurture thy gentle self enough;
I love thee for a heart that's kind --
Not for the knowledge in thy mind.
poem by William Henry Davies
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Be Thou My Vision
Be thou my vision, oh lord of my heart
Nought be all else to me, save that thy art
Thou my best thought in the day and the night
Waking or sleeping, thou presence my light
Be thou my wisdom, be thou my true word
I ever with thee and thou with me lord
Thou my great father and I thy true son
Thou in me dwelling and I with thee one
Be thou my breastplate, my sword for the fight
Be thou my armour and be thou my might
Thou my soul shelter, and thy my high tower
Raise thou me heavenwards, oh power of my power
Riches I need not, nor mans empty praise
Thou mine inheritance through all of my days
Thou and thou only though first in my heart
High king of heaven my treasure thou art
Oh high king of heaven, when battle is done
Grant heavens joy to me, bright heaven sun
Christ of my own heart, whatever befall
Still be my vision, though ruler of all
Da, da, da, da, da, etc.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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