Music
Move on, light hands, so strongly tenderly,
Now with dropped calm and yearning undersong,
Now swift and loud, tumultuously strong,
And I in darkness, sitting near to thee,
Shall not only hear, and feel, but shall not see,
One hour made passionately bright with dreams,
Keen glimpses of life's splendour, dashing gleams
Of what we would, and what we cannot be.
Surely not painful ever, yet not glad,
Shall such hours be to me, but blindly sweet,
Sharp with all yearning and all fact at strife,
Dreams that shine by with unremembered feet,
And tones that like far distance make this life
Spectral and wonderful and strangely sad.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
You Are My Light
If you need a shoulder to lean on,
Here's mine,
Or tears, for you to cry
Or if you need a smile
To help you feel all right
You can have all mine
For you are my light.,
So if you need an ear
For troubles just to hear
Mine are just for you
Your voice are theirs to hear.
So shine your light on me
Shine your light on me
Shine it day or night
Shine it dim or bright.
And if you are in trouble
And your eyes are full of tears
And no one has came around
But troubles which are fears.
And if no one picks you up
When you are lying down
Everyone has ran away
And no one comes around.
So just shine your light on me
Shine that life of thee
Shine it bright or dim
But let it come on in,
And shine that light on me
Shine it so bright and free
And know by your light
You can finally see,
And if you loose your way
In the valley of despair
Open up your eyes again
For your troubles are mine to share,
And shine your light on me
Shine it bright and free
Be it day or night
But shine your life’s light.
And remember and don’t forget
That when you are upset
That to shine your light again
For you've got more than a friend,
And shine your light on me
Shine that life of thee
Be it bright or dim
But let it come on in,
And shine that light on me
Shine it out of thee
Be it bright or dim
For you, have more than a friend.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Song
Have you love for me,
Yours my love shall be,
While the days of life are flowing.
Short was summer's stay,
Grass now pales away,
With our play will come regrowing.
What you said last year
Sounds yet in my ear,--
Birdlike at the window sitting,
Tapping, trilling there,
Singing, in would bear
Joy the warmth of sun befitting.
Litli-litli-lu,
Do you hear me too,
Youth behind the birch-trees biding?
Now the words I send,
Darkness will attend,
May be you can give them guiding.
Take it not amiss!
Sang I of a kiss?
No, I surely never planned it.
Did you hear it, you?
Give no heed thereto,
Haste I make to countermand it.
Oh, good-night, good-night
Dreams enfold me bright
Of your eyes' persuasive mildness.
Many a silent word
From their corners heard,--
Breaking forth with gentle wildness.
Now my song is still;
Is there more you will?
All the tones, to me returning,
Laughing, luring, soar;
Did you wish me more?
Still and warm the night is yearning.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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A Birthday Sequel!
Dawn break gently across the glen,
That those, to whom you make a difference, may be born again,
Mists make way, run,
A brand new day tied with all my hopes comes undone,
Trees bow not any lower,
Up you sway with the life of all things fluttering at the core,
Bloom little flower pour from your golden chalice,
Let your perfumes kindle a memory in the one across the seas,
Sing on sweet bird, not of the humdrum,
Bubble with songs of sweet hope and good things to come,
Winds keep your shrieks low, stir not the old woe,
That let the past night’s darkness swallow,
Curl on new leaf, this day you embrace,
Let him add abundance to our grace,
Hills- shield him with my prayers, majestically tower,
In thy shadows lie my dreams waiting to soar,
Buzz a tune bumble bee,
That reminds him of our promises at least once, daily
Clouds gather your skirts, head away,
One who sets my face beaming it's his birthday.
Let the skies shine through
A day of colors unfold its hued light,
Let its loveliness in your perfection stand out doubly bright,
Celestial spheres disclose the truth of the ages,
That in absence, letters mingle souls than kisses.
What if the roads are not trodden by our mutual feet?
In the dumb throng of men and women,
Only your face projects, only you I greet,
Let this dawn light my life and I shall call it fair,
To know of yearning and strange despair,
To stretch our yearning hands to gain,
Love’s tide shall come again.
poem by Seema joglekar
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The Silence in the Church
“The congregation shall be desired, secretly in their prayers, to make their humble
supplications to God . . . .
for the which prayers there shall be silence kept for a
space.”
(No. 1.)
O Holy spirit, we entreat,
Send down Thy quickening fire;
Let Thine own presence, dread and sweet,
These waiting hearts inspire.
In every thought and word and deed,
Breathe Thou the breath of life—
The fulness of the grace they need
For their appointed strife.
Help them to hold, in clasp of prayer,
The rod and staff of God;
And lead them safely, surely, where
The Christ Himself hath trod.
Give power to speak Thy message, Lord,
To every feeble voice;
May they the true seed cast abroad
Till desert wastes rejoice.
Make strong the toiling hearts and hands,
Keep watching eyes from sleep,
That golden harvests crown the lands
When angels come to reap.
* * * * *
(No. 2.)
POUR now, O Lord, all gifts of grace
From Thy most holy dwelling-place;
And let the living flame be shed
On each disciple's bended head.
Light up his soul with light divine,—
A star of heaven on earth to shine,
A beacon on life's stormy sea,
To guide the wandering bark to Thee.
Lord, clothe him now in white complete,
In Thine own spirit, pure and sweet;
Let him go forth to labour well,
In truth and strength invincible.
May his calm lips, that whisper now
The yearning prayer, the solemn vow,
Be ready, in the judgment-day,
The faithful servant's words to say—
“Lord, I have tried, in faithful strife,
To win Thy lambs to light and life;
Lord, I have truly kept for Thee
The awful charge Thou gavest me.”
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Let Me Not Forget
If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life
then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight
---let me not forget for a moment,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
As my days pass in the crowded market of this world
and my hands grow full with the daily profits,
let me ever feel that I have gained nothing
---let me not forget for a moment,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting,
when I spread my bed low in the dust,
let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me
---let me not forget a moment,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours.
When my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound
and the laughter there is loud,
let me ever feel that I have not invited thee to my house
---let me not forget for a moment,
let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams
and in my wakeful hours
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Dreams Dreams Dreams
I dream of you, dreaming of me
In thy imagination, lovely and free
Astray on a unimaginable path
Where me and you are all we hath
Dreaming of dreams that should be
The mind of you to bind with me
In my dreams its thou I see
I see thou with my harmony
Dreams, Dreams, Dreams
Gleams, Gleams, Gleams
Gleams of you and gleams of me
In dreams of you in dreams of me
The gleams that hope
The gleams that elope
You to me and me to you
In dreams, dreams come true!
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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The Orphan's Song
I had a little bird,
I took it from the nest;
I prest it, and blest it,
And nurst it in my breast.
I set it on the ground,
I danced round and round,
And sang about it so cheerly,
With 'Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,
And oh but I love thee dearly!'
I make a little feast
Of food soft and sweet,
I hold it in my breast,
And coax it to eat;
I pit, and I pat,
I call it this and that,
And sing about it so cheerly,
With 'Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,
And ho but I love thee dearly!'
I may kiss, I may sing,
But I can't make it feed,
It taketh no heed
Of any pleasant thing.
I scolded, and I socked,
But it minded not a whit,
Its little mouth was locked,
And I could not open it.
Tho' with pit, and with pat,
And with this, and with that,
I sang about it so cheerly,
And 'Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,
And ho but I love thee dearly.'
But when the day was done,
And the room was at rest,
And I sat all alone
With my birdie in my breast,
And the light had fled,
And not a sound was heard,
Then my little bird
Lifted up its head,
And the little mouth
Loosed its sullen pride,
And it opened, it opened,
With a yearning strong and wide.
Swifter than I speak
I brought it food once more,
But the poor little beak
Was locked as before.
I sat down again,
And not a creature stirred,
I laid the little bird
Again where it had lain;
And again when nothing stirred,
And not a word I said,
Then my little bird
Lifted up its head,
And the little beak
Loosed its stubborn pride,
And it opened, it opened,
With a yearning strong and wide.
It lay in my breast,
It uttered no cry,
'Twas famished, 'twas famished,
And I couldn't tell why.
I couldn't tell why,
But I saw that it would die,
For all that I kept dancing round and round,
And singing above it so cheerly,
With 'Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,
And ho but I love thee dearly!'
I never look sad,
I hear what people say,
I laugh when they are gay
And they think I am glad.
My tears never start,
I never say a word,
But I think that my heart
Is like that little bird.
Every day I read,
And I sing, and I play,
But thro' the long day
It taketh no heed.
It taketh no heed
Of any pleasant thing,
I know it doth not read,
I know it doth not sing.
With my mouth I read,
With my hands I play,
My shut heart is shut,
Coax it how you may.
You may coax it how you may
While the day is broad and bright,
But in the dead night
When the guests are gone away,
And no more the music sweet
Up the house doth pass,
Nor the dancing feet
Shake the nursery glass;
And I've heard my aunt
Along the corridor,
And my uncle gaunt
Lock his chamber door;
And upon the stair
All is hushed and still,
And the last wheel
Is silent in the square;
And the nurses snore,
And the dim sheets rise and fall,
And the lamplight's on the wall,
And the mouse is on the floor;
And the curtains of my bed
Are like a heavy cloud,
And the clock ticks loud,
And sounds are in my head;
And little Lizzie sleeps
Softly at my side,
It opens, it opens,
With a yearning strong and wide!
It yearns in my breast,
It utters no cry,
'Tis famished, 'tis famished,
And I feel that I shall die,
I feel that I shall die,
And none will know why.
Tho' the pleasant life is dancing round and round
And singing about me so cheerly,
With 'Hey my little bird, and ho my little bird,
And ho but I love thee dearly!'
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Dream Song I
Long years ago, within a distant clime,
Ere Love had touched me with his wand sublime,
I dreamed of one to make my life's calm May
The panting passion of a summer's day.
And ever since, in almost sad suspense,
I have been waiting with a soul intense
To greet and take unto myself the beams,
Of her, my star, the lady of my dreams.
O Love, still longed and looked for, come to me,
Be thy far home by mountain, vale, or sea.
My yearning heart may never find its rest
Until thou liest rapt upon my breast.
The wind may bring its perfume from the south,
Is it so sweet as breath from my love's mouth?
Oh, naught that surely is, and naught that seems
May turn me from the lady of my dreams.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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What Dreams Are Made Of
hey now
hey now
hey now
hey now
have you ever seen such a beautiful night
i could almost kiss the stars for shining so bright
when i see you smiling i go uh oh oh
i would never want to miss this
cause in my heart i know what this is
hey now hey now this is what dreams are made of
hey now hey now this is what dreams are made of
i've got somewhere i belong
i've got somebody to love
this is what dreams are made of
have you ever wondered what life is about
you could search the world and never figure it out
you dont have to sail the oceans uh no no
happyness is no mystery
it's here and now it's you and me
hey now hey now this is what dremas are made of
hey now hey now this is what dreams are made of
i've got somewhere i belong
i've got somebody to love
this is what dreams are made of
open your eyes(this is what dreams are made of)
shout to the sky( this is what dreams are made of)
when i see you smiling i go uh oh oh
yesterday my life was life was color
now everything's technocolored
hey now hey now this is what dreams are made of
hey now hey now this is what dreams are made of
i've got somewhere i belong
i've got somebody to love
this is what dreams are made of
song performed by by Hilary Duff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring Star
I.
Over the lamp-lit street,
Trodden by hurrying feet,
Where mostly pulse and beat
Life's throbbing veins,
See where the April star,
Blue-bright as sapphires are,
Hangs in deep heavens far,
Waxes and wanes.
Strangely alive it seems,
Darting keen, dazzling gleams,
Veiling anon its beams,
Large, clear, and pure.
In the broad western sky
No orb may shine anigh,
No lesser radiancy
May there endure.
Spring airs are blowing sweet:
Low in the dusky street
Star-beams and eye-beams meet.
Rapt in his dreams,
All through the crowded mart
Poet with swift-stirred heart,
Passing beneath, must start,
Thrilled by those gleams.
Naught doth he note anear,
Fain through Night's veil to peer,
Reach that resplendent sphere,
Reading her sign.
Where point those sharp, thin rays,
Guiding his weary maze,
Blesseth she or betrays,
Who may divine?
'Guard me, celestial light,
Lofty, serenely bright:
Lead my halt feet aright,'
Prayerful he speaks.
'For a new ray hath shone
Over my spirit lone.
Be this new soul the one
whom my soul seeks.'
II.
Beside her casement oped the maiden sits,
Where the mild evening spirit of the Spring
Gently between the city's homesteads flits
To kiss her brows, and floats on languid wing,
Vague longings in her breast awakening.
While her heart trembles 'neath those dim, deep skies,
As the quick sea that 'neath the globed moon lies.
Where her eyes rest the full-orbed evening star
Burns with white flame: it beckons, shrinks, dilates.
She, dazzled by that shining world afar,
May not withdraw her gaze: breathless she waits.
Some promised joy from Heaven's very gates
Unto her soul seems proffered. When shall be
The bright fulfilment of that star's decree?
Nor glad nor sad is she: she doth not know
That through the city's throng one threads his way,
Thrilled likewise by that planet's mystic glow,
And hastes to seek her. What sweet change shall sway
Her spirit at his coming? What new ray
Upon his shadowy life from her shall fall?
The silent star burns on, and knoweth all.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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The Higher Pantheism
The sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills and the plains,-
Are not these, O Soul, the Vision of Him who reigns?
Is not the Vision He, tho' He be not that which He seems?
Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams?
Earth, these solid stars, this weight of body and limb,
Are they not sign and symbol of thy division from Him?
Dark is the world to thee; thyself art the reason why,
For is He not all but thou, that hast power to feel "I am I"?
Glory about thee, without thee; and thou fulfillest thy doom,
Making Him broken gleams and a stifled splendour and gloom.
Speak to Him, thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet-
Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.
God is law, say the wise; O soul, and let us rejoice,
For if He thunder by law the thunder is yet His voice.
Law is God, say some; no God at all, says the fool,
For all we have power to see is a straight staff bent in a pool;
And the ear of man cannot hear, and the eye of man cannot see;
But if we could see and hear, this Vision-were it not He?
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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But
Tho we seem to reach the turning
And the Government is yearning
To brings us swift releif, and make a cut
In the burden of the taxes,
As fond hope within us waxes
Sounds, like the knell of doom, the fatal 'but.'
Oh, that stultifying 'but'!
Every avenue is shut
That leads to that Nirvana that men must believe in still;
And a tantalising star
Gleams as ever yet afar,
As we trudge the weary, winding road that ever goes uphill.
Who can doubt the skies are clearing?
Who can doubt good days are nearing?
We are climbing from depression's gloomy rut.
Now from tax relief we'll borrow
Gladness, and, today, tomorrow
At the latest, end our sorrow surely - but -
Oh, the aggravating 'but'!
When the poor tax-paying mutt
Builds his pretty house of dreams where gold becomes a glut,
Some prosaic politician
Coldly lights the whole position
With the cold, hard light of truth, and dreams go phut!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Idler's Song
I sit in the twilight dim
At the close of an idle day,
And I list to the soft sweet hymn,
That rises far away,
And dies on the evening air.
Oh, all day long,
They sing their song,
Who toil in the valley there.
But never a song sing I,
Sitting with folded hands,
The hours pass me by -
Dropping their golden sands -
And I list, from day to day,
To the 'tick, tick, tock'
Of the old brown clock,
Ticking my life away.
And I see the twilight fade,
And I see the night come on,
And then, in the gloom and shade,
I weep for the day that's gone -
Weep and wail in pain,
For the misspent day
That has flown away,
And will not come again.
Another morning beams,
And I forget the last,
And I sit in idle dreams
Till the day over - past.
Oh, the toiler's heart is glad!
When the day is gone
And the night comes on,
But mine is sore and sad.
For I dare not look behind!
No shining, golden sheaves
Can I ever hope to find:
Nothing but withered leaves.
Ah! dreams are very sweet!
But will not please
If only these
I lay at the Master's feet.
And what will the Master say
To dreams and nothing more?
Oh, idler, all the day!
Think, ere thy life is o'er!
And when the day grows late,
Oh, soul of sin!
Will He let you in,
There at the pearly gate?
Oh, idle heart, beware!
On, to the field of strife!
On, to the valley there!
And live a useful life!
Up, do not wait a day!
For the old brown clock,
With its 'tick, tick, tock, '
Is ticking your life away.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Crazy Fingers
Your rain falls like crazy fingers
Peals of fragile thunder keeping time
Recall the days that still are to come some sing blue.
Hang your heart on laughing willow stray
Down to the water, deep sea of love
Beneath the sweet calm face of the sea swift undertow.
Life may be sweeter for this, I dont know,
See how it feels in the end.
May lady lullaby sing plainly for you soft, strong, sweet and true.
Cloud hands reaching from a rainbow tapping at the window, touch your hair
So swift and bright strange figures of light float in air.
Who can stop what must arrive now? something new is waiting to be born
Dark as the night youre still by my side shine inside .
Gone are the days we stopped to decide where we should go, we just ride.
Gone are the broken eyes we saw through in dreams gone, both dream and lie.
Life may be sweeter for this, I dont know,
Feels like it might be all right,
While lady lullaby sings plainly through you love still rings true.
Never could reach it, just slips away but I try.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My God, I Thank Thee who Hast Made
My God, I thank Thee who hast made
The earth so bright;
So full of splendour and of joy,
Beauty and light;
So many glorious things are here,
Noble and right!
I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made
Joy to abound;
So many gentle thoughts and deeds
Circling us round,
That in the darkest spot of earth
Some love is found.
I thank Thee more that all our joy
Is touched with pain;
That shadows fall on brightest hours;
So that earth's bliss may be our guide,
And not our chain.
For Thou, who knowest, Lord, how soon
Our weak heart clings,
Hath given us joys, tender and true,
Yet all with wings;
So that we see, gleaming on high,
Diviner things.
I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept
The best in store:
We have enough, yet not too much
To long for more;
A yearning for a deeper peace,
Not known before.
poem by Adelaide Anne Procter
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Winding All My Life About Thee
Winding all my life about thee,
Let me lay my lips on thine;
What is all the world without thee,
Mine --oh mine!
Let me press my heart out on thee,
Grape of life's most fiery vine,
Spilling sacramental on thee
Love's red wine.
Let thy strong eyes yearning o'er me
Draw me with their force divine;
All my soul has gone before me
Clasping thine.
Irresistibly I follow,
As whenever we may run
Runs our shadow, as the swallow
Seeks the sun.
Yea, I tremble, swoon, surrender
All my spirit to thy sway,
As a star is drowned in splendour
Of the day.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Waiting For Our Time
Looking up from where I stand
I see the vapor trail
Of a jet plane in the sky
Here the wheel is in my hand
But theres no wind in my sails
And life is drifting by
Still I hold on and wait
I know its not too late
And my breeze will come
Muse you satisfy my soul
Keep me warm while the
Cold world guards the gate
Im searching
Im wondering
Im yearning
Waiting for our time to come
Im searching
Im wondering
Im yearning
Waiting for our time to come
Your love has kept my dream alive
A vision of my life
With you here by my side
Every forward step I take
Every moment Im awake
I feel your love inside
So close I feel it in my bones
I know Im not alone as I climb this wall
But I, sometimes I get so high
I just want to live, love
And taste it all
Im searching
Im wondering
Im yearning
Waiting for our time to come
Im searching
Im wondering
Im yearning
Waiting for our time to come
Here tonight
I lie awake and watch you dream
Under the light of the moon
I wonder just how far weve been
And where well be
When the sun comes up
Will this be our date with destiny
Im searching
Im wondering
Im yearning
Waiting for our time to come
Im searching
Im wondering
Im yearning
Waiting for our time to come
And Im waiting
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Its A Wonderful Life
(diana ross/bill wray/kim bullard)
I was lost in darkness all alone
On the streets no place that i
I could call my own
Times so hard
Rain everywhere down below
Until the day I heard your voice
Telling me which way to go
Come on out into the life
Hold on love its alright
Its a wonderful life
Now that you made me see
My lifes complete
Its in harmony
Its a wonderful life
Now that youre here with me
I cant believe Im in ecstacy
I was blind but love made me see
Its everything I was searchin for
Was right in front of me
Loving you made me very strong
You gave me the strength I needed
So I could carry on
Come on out into the light
Hold on love its alright
Its a wonderful life
You made me see
My lifes complete
Its in harmony
Its a wonderful life
Now that youre here with me
I cant believe Im in ecstacy
I feel light as a feather
Every days beautiful weather
In your arms I remain
Forever and ever
Its a wonderful life
That you made me see
My lifes complete
Its in harmony
Its a wonderful life
Now that youre here with me
I cant believe Im in ecstacy
Its a wonderful life
You made me see
My lifes complete
Its in harmony
Its a wonderful life
Now that youre here with me
I cant believe Im in ecstacy
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Some Rose Leaves Brought From The Vale Of Cashmere
Faded and pale their beauty, vanished their early bloom,
Their folded leaves emit alone a sweet though faint perfume,
But, oh! than brightest bud or flower to me are they more dear,
They come from that rose-haunted land, the bright Vale of Cashmere.
Cashmere! a spell is in that name! what dreams its sound awakes
Of roses sweet as Eden’s flowers, of minarets and lakes,
Of scenes as vaguely, strangely bright as those of fairy land,
Springing to life and loveliness ’neath some enchanter’s wand!
Cashmere! poetic in its name, its clear and brilliant skies
That seem to clothe earth, flower and wave in their own lovely dyes;
Poetic in its legend lore, and spell more dear than all,
Enshrined in poet’s inmost heart, the home of “Nourmahal.”
Yes, there oft fell her fairy feet, there shone the glances bright,
That won for her the glorious name of harem’s queen and light;
There, as she wandered ’mid its bowers, her royal love beside,
She taught him to forget all else save her, his beauteous, bride.
Cashmere! what would this heart not give to see thy favored earth,
So rich in nature’s peerless gifts, in beauty’s dazzling worth,
Rich in a name that in mine ear from childhood’s hour hath rung,
The land of which impassioned Moore with such sweet power hath sung.
Yet, were I there, oh! well I know the time would surely come
When my yearning heart would turn again to my far Canadian home,
Longing to look once more upon its wintry wastes of snow,
And the friends whose hearts throb like mine own, with friendship’s changeless glow.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Prophet Muhammad 2
His birthday is approaching
And I wish
to say
some words about him
on his birthday
Some say
So and so
And I feel I Love Him
More than my heart
As long as I can see
He smiled to me
His love
is more than any
His Mercy
Oh
He is sent Mercy
To me
to my disturbed world
Light
in my eyes
yearn
For thee
For thee
For thee
May I see
You and me
every hard day
Healing my wounds
With your hugs
Like a most kind father
For me
For me
When I am lost
In my tears
I remember
He is sent
For me
And my brave world
And I see
my smile
yearning
for thee
yearning for thee
I regret
I once
May be
forgot thee
forgive me!
poem by Eman Elbadawi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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