Herodias' Daughter Presenting To Her Mother St. John's Head In A Charger, Also Painted By Her Self
Behold, dear Mother, who was late our Fear,
Disarm'd and Harmless, I present you here;
The Tongue ty'd up, that made all Jury quake,
And which so often did our Greatness shake;
No Terror sits upon his Awful Brow,
Where Fierceness reign'd, there Calmness triumphs now;
As Lovers use, he gazes on my Face,
With Eyes that languish, as they sued for Grace;
Wholly subdu'd by my Victorious Charms,
See how his Head reposes in my Arms.
Come, joyn then with me in my just Transport,
Who thus have brought the Hermite to the Court.
poem by Anne Killigrew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Just You, Just Me
(j. greer, r. klarges)
Just you, just me
Lets find a cozy spot
To cuddle and woo.
Just us, just we
Ive missed an awful lot
My trouble is you.
Oh, gee!
What are your charms for?
What are my arms for?
Use your imagination!
Just you, just me
Ill tie a lovers knot
Around wonderful you.
~interlude~
Oh, gee!
What are your charms for?
What are my arms for?
Use your imagination!
Just you, just me
Ill tie a lovers knot
Tie a lovers knot
Tie a lovers knot
Around wonderful you.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anything holy?
I thought it noble to rear cows.
I’ve been sued by the grass
In the court of God.
I thought it noble to grow crops.
I’ve been sued by the weeds
In the court of God.
I entered into fish farming.
I’ve been sued by the worms
In the court of God.
Could you do anything noble
In the world, sustainable
In the court of God?
18.04.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Refreshment
If I could have foreseen this hour,
What terror and anguish I had seen!
And not this time of joy at flower,
Cool waters and a garden green.
All day the battle in the East
Thunders. Dear Angels, keep him well!
His mother sits as to a feast.
O heart of steel invulnerable!
All night I sleep the young child's sleep
And waken to the robin's song,
Blithe as the bird. Dear Angels, keep
My darling the sharp spears among.
Ah now, I know whose Arms enfold,
I rest on such a mighty Heart;
He hides my eyes lest they behold,
In a most heavenly place apart.
Lord, if this ease be but a lull
Ere the deep seas are over my head,
I shall have had, O Beautiful!
This hour joy-filled and comforted.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Songs Set To Music: 20. Set By Mr. De Fesch
Since by ill fate I'm forced away,
And snatch'd so soon from those dear arms,
Against my will I must obey,
And leave those sweet endearing charms.
Yet still love on, and never fear
But you and constancy will prove
Enough my present flame to bear,
And make me, though in absence, love.
For though your presence Fate denies,
I feel, alas! the killing smart,
And can with undiscerned eyes
Behold your picture in my heart.
poem by Matthew Prior
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Goodbye Mother Dear
Mother, mother, mother dear,
Can you hold me close, can you hold me near?
Mother, mother, oh mother dear,
Will you listen, listen to my words of fear?
Mother, I am inside your womb.
Mother, you hold the key.
Mother, is it too late, too soon?
Mother, what do you see?
I hear your heart beat, beat, beat,
It comforts me when I am asleep.
I feel your warmth, I feel your heat,
But mother dear, I feel you weep.
Mother, I am so full of fear.
Mother, I see it in your tear.
Mother, I know you cry and why.
Mother, I know we must say goodbye.
(if only you could let me grow
my love to you then i could show
but that i know cannot be so
the time has come for me to go)
Mother, mother, mother dear,
Do not feel guilt, do not feel fear.
Mother, mother, oh mother dear,
For a while, you held me near.
© Morney Wilson
poem by Morney Wilson
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Jessica
Jessica with the smiling face,
Reflecting all my grandma's grace
Reminding me of my mothers charms
I love to hold you in my arms.
Your mother was my darling girl,
When she was born the world did whirl,
Now that you are here, my dear,
The circle is complete and clear.
Each generation blends together,
The daughter then, is grandma now,
This baby girl will one day be,
Mother of the family tree.
poem by Enyinwa Okechukwu Enyinwa
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The Wise One
Behold him! Bold, resilient,
The biggest of them all...
The wise one called the elephant
Who deafens with his call!
Behold the ears that span an arm,
The trunk that's like a snake...
The way he walks with gentle calm,
Yet swims across a lake!
Behold the tusks that help him fight,
As he defends the herd...
The twinkling eyes that grant him sight,
To see when danger stirred!
Behold the skin that hides his bones,
Like wrinkled leather slits...
The twisting tongue the wise one owns,
As in his mouth it sits!
Behold the awesome majesty,
This giant God has made!
His loss would be a travesty,
If hunted and betrayed!
Behold the challenge Man must face,
To keep each wise one safe...
For none of us can yet replace
The life that God once gave...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'The Wise One'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Errors
The error is made today, of late,
And too many can err in the ways of men.
The errors so bold and hard are lately in contempt,
For they are reckless, and I am poor for all.
The whole question is a mistake,
The whole answer should be silenced
For the signal is lasting and resolute,
As forming the signs of distrust.
Boldly go where we have gone,
Boldness shall overcome those in distrust;
Let happiness behold some fine path
And let it shake so much for the quake.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Erl-King
1.
WHO rides there so late through the night dark and drear?
The father it is, with his infant so dear;
He holdeth the boy tightly clasp'd in his arm,
He holdeth him safely, he keepeth him warm.
"My son, wherefore seek'st thou thy face thus to hide?"
"Look, father, the Erl-King is close by our side!
Dost see not the Erl-King, with crown and with train?"
"My son, 'tis the mist rising over the plain."
"Oh, come, thou dear infant! oh come thou with me!
Full many a game I will play there with thee;
On my strand, lovely flowers their blossoms unfold,
My mother shall grace thee with garments of gold."
"My father, my father, and dost thou not hear
The words that the Erl-King now breathes in mine ear?"
"Be calm, dearest child, 'tis thy fancy deceives;
'Tis the sad wind that sighs through the withering leaves."
"Wilt go, then, dear infant, wilt go with me there?
My daughters shall tend thee with sisterly care
My daughters by night their glad festival keep,
They'll dance thee, and rock thee, and sing thee to sleep."
"My father, my father, and dost thou not see,
How the Erl-King his daughters has brought here for me?"
"My darling, my darling, I see it aright,
'Tis the aged grey willows deceiving thy sight."
"I love thee, I'm charm'd by thy beauty, dear boy!
And if thou'rt unwilling, then force I'll employ."
"My father, my father, he seizes me fast,
Full sorely the Erl-King has hurt me at last."
The father now gallops, with terror half wild,
He grasps in his arms the poor shuddering child;
He reaches his courtyard with toil and with dread,--
The child in his arms finds he motionless, dead.
------------
2.
fr om a translation by
Edwin Zeydel
--------------------------- ------------------------------------------------- ----
Who rides so late where winds blow wild?
It is the father grasping his child;
He holds the boy embraced in his arm
He clasps him snugly, he keeps him warm.
"My son, why cover your face in such fear?"
"O don't you see the ErlKing near?
The ErlKing with his crown and train!"
"My son, the mist is on the plain."
"Sweet lad, o come and join me, do!
Such pretty games I'll play with you;
On the shore gay flowers their colors unfold
My mother has made you a garment of gold."
"My father, my father, o can you not hear
The promise the ErlKing breathes in my ear?"
"Be calm, stay calm my child, lie low
In withered leaves the night winds blow."
"Will you, sweet lad, come along with me?
My daughters shall care for you tenderly;
In the night my daughters their revelry keep,
They'll rock you and dance you and sing you to sleep."
"My father, my father, o can you not trace
The ErlKing's daughters in that gloomy place?"
"My son, my son, I see it clear
How grey the ancient willows appear."
"I love you, your comeliness charms me, my boy
And if you're not willing, then force I'll employ!"
"Now father, o father, he's seizing my arm
The ErlKing has done me the cruelest harm!"
The father shudders, his ride is wild
In his arms he's holding the shivering child
He reaches home with toil and dread.
In his arms, the child was dead.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Midsummer New York
Wake up in the morning, my hands cold in fear.
And midsummer new york my heart shakes in terror.
My heart, my hands, my legs, my mind,
Evrything I touch is shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Wake up in the morning, my beds wet in sweat.
And midsummer new york, scream in the mirror.
And the door, and the chairs, and the floor, and the ceiling,
Evrything you see is aching, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
And you shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Wake up in the morning, my minds dried up in pain.
Midsummer new yorks waiting for the rain.
The window, the trees, the park, the sun,
The whole world s shaking, is shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Shake, oh, shake, oh, shake,
Shake, oh, shake, shake.
Aching, aching, aching, aching, aching,
Oh, its aching, aching, aching, oh, aching,
Aching, aching, oh, its aching, aching, oh, oh.
Shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake!
Shake, oh, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake.
Shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake, shake.
Ooh, oh, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, aching, oh, oh, aching, aching, aching, aching.
Shake, shake, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shaking, ooh, oh, shaking, oh, shake,
Oh, oh, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Oh, oh, shaking, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake,
Shake!
Oh, oh, oh, shake, shake.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Midsummer New York
Wake up in the morning, my hands cold in fear.
And midsummer new york my heart shakes in terror.
My heart, my hands, my legs, my mind,
Evrything I touch is shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Wake up in the morning, my beds wet in sweat.
And midsummer new york, scream in the mirror.
And the door, and the chairs, and the floor, and the ceiling,
Evrything you see is aching, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
And you shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Wake up in the morning, my minds dried up in pain.
Midsummer new yorks waiting for the rain.
The window, the trees, the park, the sun,
The whole world s shaking, is shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, oooh.
Shake, oh, shake, oh, shake,
Shake, oh, shake, shake.
Aching, aching, aching, aching, aching,
Oh, its aching, aching, aching, oh, aching,
Aching, aching, oh, its aching, aching, oh, oh.
Shaking, shaking,
Shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake!
Shake, oh, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake.
Shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake, shake.
Ooh, oh, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, aching, oh, oh, aching, aching, aching, aching.
Shake, shake, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Shaking, ooh, oh, shaking, oh, shake,
Oh, oh, shaking, shaking, shaking, shaking,
Oh, oh, shaking, shake, shake, shake, shake,
Shake, shake, shake,
Shake!
Oh, oh, oh, shake, shake.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode XIII: To The Author Of Memoirs Of The House of Brandenburgh
I.
The men renown'd as chiefs of human race,
And born to lead in counsels or in arms,
Have seldom turn'd their feet from glory's chace
To dwell with books or court the Muse's charms.
Yet, to our eyes if haply time hath brought
Some genuine transcript of their calmer thought,
There still we own the wise, the great, or good;
And Cæsar there and Xenophon are seen,
As clear in spirit and sublime of mien,
As on Pharsalian plains, or by the Assyrian flood.
II.
Say thou too, Frederic, was not this thy aim?
Thy vigils could the student's lamp ingage,
Except for this? except that future fame
Might read thy genius in the faithful page?
That if hereafter envy shall presume
With words irreverent to inscribe thy tomb,
And baser weeds upon thy palms to fling,
That hence posterity may try thy reign,
Assert thy treaties, and thy wars explain,
And view in native lights the hero and the king.
III.
O evil foresight and pernicious care!
Wilt thou indeed abide by this appeal?
Shall we the lessons of thy pen compare
With private honor or with public zeal?
Whence then at things divine those darts of scorn?
Why are the woes, which virtuous men have borne
For sacred truth, a prey to laughter given?
What fiend, what foe of nature urg'd thy arm
The Almighty of his scepter to disarm?
To push this earth adrift and leave it loose from heaven?
IV.
Ye godlike shades of legislators old,
Ye who made Rome victorious, Athens wise,
Ye first of mortals with the bless'd inroll'd,
Say did not horror in your bosoms rise,
When thus by impious vanity impell'd
A magistrate, a monarch, ye beheld
Affronting civil order's holiest bands?
Those bands which ye so labor'd to improve?
Those hopes and fears of justice from above,
Which tam'd the savage world to your divine commands?
poem by Mark Akenside
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In the spirit of Rumi - 62 - Religion
The witness said
this is what I saw
no other witnesses were present at the time,
none of the jury were there of course,
the judge was not there
some of the jury said
if he says so I believe him,
some of the jury said
how do I know that's the truth
they listened,
his eyes shone;
their hearts listened,
their eyes shone;
yes they said,
that's true
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Enjoyment
Come my Laura, come my love;
Come my tender turtle-dove;
Let me from this host retire,
To languish in a softer fire,
How the waving elms invite us!
How the rosy bowers delight us!
How their am'rous foldings twine,
To imitate thy arms and mine!
See these snowy lilies blowing,
With the blushing roses glowing,
Silently the soul inspire,
To kindle at thy lover's fire:
See these springing violets rise,
Animated by thy eyes;
Lavishly their charms they spread,
To make a soft enamelled bed;
And like this downy swelling breast,
They rise, and languish to be pressed.
But O thou happy, happy grove,
Sacred to the God of love,
With the thickest umbrage shade us,
Let no piercing rays invade us:
Let no light but Beauty's charm us,
Let no heat but Beauty's warm us;
Make our artificial light,
Close and sweet as our delight.
And now, my dear, no longer coy,
Let us give a thought to joy!
Then, closely lay thy lips to mine,
And let our souls and bodies join:
Let me suck thy balmy breath,
And fainting, glory in my death.
Take me dying to thy arms,
Ah me! I die with pleasing pain,
O kindle me to life again.
And now, my brighter Queen of Love,
I'll confess the stronger Jove.
O happiest transport, dearest blessing,
Sweetest-rapture past expressing!
Who can tell the thrilling pleasure,
When the nymph resigns her treasure!
When she melts in ripen'd blisses,
Breathing out her soul in kisses!
When in Paradise she lies,
And rolls her pretty dying eyes:
While the Snake with softer strains,
Sweetly stings her tickling veins!
She pants, she sighs, she heaves her charms,
And locks her vig'rous lover in her arms.
poem by William Pattison
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Over The Carnage
OVER the carnage rose prophetic a voice,
Be not dishearten'd--Affection shall solve the problems of Freedom
yet;
Those who love each other shall become invincible--they shall yet
make Columbia victorious.
Sons of the Mother of All! you shall yet be victorious!
You shall yet laugh to scorn the attacks of all the remainder of the
earth.
No danger shall balk Columbia's lovers;
If need be, a thousand shall sternly immolate themselves for one.
One from Massachusetts shall be a Missourian's comrade;
From Maine and from hot Carolina, and another, an Oregonese, shall be
friends triune,
More precious to each other than all the riches of the earth. 10
To Michigan, Florida perfumes shall tenderly come;
Not the perfumes of flowers, but sweeter, and wafted beyond death.
It shall be customary in the houses and streets to see manly
affection;
The most dauntless and rude shall touch face to face lightly;
The dependence of Liberty shall be lovers,
The continuance of Equality shall be comrades.
These shall tie you and band you stronger than hoops of iron;
I, extatic, O partners! O lands! with the love of lovers tie you.
(Were you looking to be held together by the lawyers?
Or by an agreement on a paper? or by arms? 20
--Nay--nor the world, nor any living thing, will so cohere.)
poem by Walt Whitman
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I Know It's Over
I can feel the soil falling over my head
And as i climb into an empty bed
Oh well. enough said.
I know it's over - still i cling
I don't know where else i can go
Over ...
Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head
See, the sea wants to take me
The knife wants to cut me
Do you think you can help me ?
Sad veiled bride, please be happy
Handsome groom, give her room
Loud, loutish lover, treat her kindly
(though she needs you
More than she loves you)
And i know it's over - still i cling
I don't know where else i can go
Over, it's over, it's over, it's over
It's over, la ...
I know it's over
And it never really began
But in my heart it was so real
And you even spoke to me, and said :
"if you're so funny
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
And if you're so clever
Then why are you on your own tonight ?
I know ...
'cause tonight - it's just like any other night
That's why you're on your own tonight
Your triumphs and your charms
While they're in each other's arms..."
It's so easy to laugh
It's so easy to hate
It takes strength to be gentle and kind
Over, over, over, over
It's so easy to laugh
It's so easy to hate
It takes guts to be gentle and kind
Over, over
Love is natural and real
But not for you, my love
Not tonight, my love
Love is natural and real
But not for such as you and i, my love
Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head, oh ...
Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh mother, i can feel the soil falling over my head
Oh mother, i can feel the soil fall over my head
Mother, i can feel the soil fall over my head
Oh mother, i can feel the soil fall over, fall over my head
Oh mother, i can feel the ... fall over my ...
Oh ...
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To Neptune
On Mrs. W-----'s Voyage to England.
I.
WHILE raging tempests shake the shore,
While AElus' thunders round us roar,
And sweep impetuous o'er the plain
Be still, O tyrant of the main;
Nor let thy brow contracted frowns betray,
While my Susanna skims the wat'ry way.
II.
The Pow'r propitious hears the lay,
The blue-ey'd daughters of the sea
With sweeter cadence glide along,
And Thames responsive joins the song.
Pleas'd with their notes Sol sheds benign his ray,
And double radiance decks the face of day.
III.
To court thee to Britannia's arms
Serene the climes and mild the sky,
Her region boasts unnumber'd charms,
Thy welcome smiles in ev'ry eye.
Thy promise, Neptune keep, record my pray'r,
Not give my wishes to the empty air.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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The Death-Song
Mother, mother! my heart is wild,
Hold me upon your bosom dear,
Do not frown on your own poor child,
Death is darkly drawing near.
Mother, mother! the bitter shame
Eats into my very soul;
And longing love, like a wrapping flame,
Burns me away without control.
Mother, mother! upon my brow
The clammy death-sweats coldly rise;
How dim and strange your features grow
Through the hot mist that veils my eyes.
Mother, mother! sing me the song
They sing on sunny August eves,
The rustling barley fields along,
Binding up the ripe, red sheaves.
Mother, mother! I do not hear
Your voice—but his—oh, guard me well!
His breathing makes me faint with fear,
His clasping arms are round me still.
Mother, mother! unbind my vest,
Upon my heart lies his first token:
Now lay me in my narrow nest,
Your withered blossom, crushed and broken.
poem by Frances Anne Kemble
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Mother Gives Us
Mother gives us
Material prosperity
Mother gives us
Spiritual freedom.
Boundless
Mother's grace
Illimitable
Mother's mercy
Infinite
Mother's knowledge
Immeasurable
Mother's power
Ineffable
Mother's glory
Indescribable
Mother's splendour.
Thanks Mother
You are present
You are past and
You are our future
And you are beyond
Time and space
It is for you
We are here and
Showing our face.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Delilah
In the midnight of darkness and terror,
When I would grope nearer to God,
With my back to a record of error
And the highway of sin I have trod,
There comes to me shapes I would banish –
The shapes of the deeds I have done;
And I pray and I plead till they vanish –
All vanish and leave me, save one.
That one, with a smile like the splendour
Of the sun in the middle-day skies –
That one, with a spell that is tender –
That one with a dream in her eyes –
Cometh close, in her rare southern beauty,
Her languor, her indolent grace;
And my soul turns its back on its duty
To live in the light of her face.
She touches my cheek, and I quiver –
I tremble with exquisite pains;
She sighs – like an overcharged river
My blood rushes on through my veins;
She smiles – and in mad-tiger fashion,
As a she-tiger fondles her own,
I clasp her with fierceness and passion,
And kiss her with shudder and groan.
Once more, in our love’s sweet beginning,
I put away God and the World;
Once more, in the joys of our sinnings,
Are the hopes of eternity hurled.
There is nothing my soul lacks or misses
As I clasp the dream-shape to my breast;
In the passion and pain of her kisses
Life blooms to its richest and best.
O ghost of dead sin unrelenting,
Go back to the dust, and the sod!
Too dear and too sweet for repenting,
Ye stand between me and my God.
If I, by the Throne, should behold you,
Smiling up with those eyes loved so well,
Close, close in my arms I would fold you,
And dropp with you down to sweet Hell!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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