Related quotes: THE Day grows hot, and...

The Noon Quatrains

THE Day grows hot, and darts his rays
From such a sure and killing place,
That half this World are fain to fly
The danger of his burning eye.
His early glories were benign,
Warm to be felt, bright to be seen,
And all was comfort, but who can
Endure him when Meridian?
Of him we as of kings complain,
Who mildly do begin to reign,
But to the Zenith got of pow'r,
Those whom they should protect devour.
Has not another Phaeton
Mounted the chariot of the Sun,
And, wanting art to guide his horse,
Is hurri'd from the Sun's due course.
If this hold on, our fertile lands
Will soon be turn'd to parched sands,
And not an onion that will grow
Without a Nile to overflow.
The grazing herds now droop and pant,
E'en without labour fit to faint,
And willingly forsook their meat
[food]
To seek out cover from the heat.
The lagging ox is no unbound,
From larding
the new turn'd up ground, [pressing down]
Whilst Hobbinal alike o'er-laid
, [burdened]
Takes his coarse dinner to the shade.
Cellars and grottos now are best
To eat and drink in, or to rest,
And not a soul above is found
Can find a refuge under ground.
When pagan tyranny grew hot,
Thus persecuted Christians got
Into the dark but friendly womb
Of unknown subterranean Rome
. [the Roman catacombs]
And as that heat did cool at last,
So a few scorching hours o'er-pass'd,
In a more mild and temp'rate ray
We may again enjoy the Day.

poem by Charles Cotton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

Burning Heat

Burning in my heart- burning in my soul
Gotta have it more and more- hot and overloaded
Starving for some fun tonight- always dressed to kill
Dont tell me what I need- I need the thrill indeed
Dont stop me now
Ill run you over- bastard
Get out of my way
I feel mighty great
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Cant you see it coming- stronger than a bull
Get yourself going- youre too easy to beat
Dont forget Im strong- powerful and straight
I can take you on cause I am hard to break
Dont stop me now
Ill run you over- bastard
Get out of my way
I feel mighty great
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Burning heat- leads me- burning heat
Burning heat- feeds me- burning heat
Burning in my heart- burning in my soul
Gotta have it more and more- hot and overloaded
Burning heat- gets me- burning heat
Burning heat- breaks me- burning heat
Burning heat- leads me- burning heat
Burning heat- feeds me- burning heat

song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turn Around

I was working all night in my office
When a man I had recently killed
Called me up from a phone near my building
So I looked out the window at him
He had the same obsequious manner
That was the reason I had him killed
So to calm my nerves I sang this song
To him, over the phone
Turn around, turn around
Theres a thing there that can be found
Turn around, turn around
Its a human skull on the ground
Human skull on the ground
Turn around
I was out by myself in the graveyard
I was doing an interpretive dance
When I felt something heavy and pointed
Strike me in the back of the neck
And then the ghost of my dance instructor
Pushed me down into an open grave
And as dirt rained down she played a xylophone
And sang me this song
Turn around, turn around
Theres a thing there that can be found
Turn around, turn around
Its a human skull on the ground
Human skull on the ground
Turn around
We were waving our arms out the window
Of a fast moving passenger train
Acting in an irresponsible fashion
Until the engineer whose back had been turned
And who we thought would find us highly amusing
Quickly swiveled his head around
And his face which was a paper-white mask of evil
Sang us this song
Turn around, (round) turn around (round)
Theres a thing there that can be found (theres a thing there that can be)
Turn around, (found) turn around (round)
Its a human skull on the ground (its a human skull on the)
Human skull (ground) on the ground (round)
Turn around (turn around, turn around)
Turn around, (round) turn around (round)
Theres a thing there that can be found (theres a thing there that can be)
Turn around, (found) turn around (round)
Its a human skull on the ground (its a human skull on the)
Human skull (ground) on the ground (round)
Turn around (turn around, turn around)

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let the fire Burn (twilight)

Let the fire burn
let it burn
let this new life take its turn
angel of death take my body
Please just lift me away from this heat
cover me with your cool hands
you can put out the fire,
fold your cold hands and bless my soul
Oh you can out out the fire

Swiftly changing everything
Everything already left behind
Lost in this deadly heat
Your medicines killing me
I cant wake from this sleep
Im melting in pain
Im melting in fire
Just put out my rage
Put out the fire
take your cool hands
lift me somewhere heavenly higher

And time will tell
If heaven can turn to hell
Angel near by, i cant be lost under this spell
Offset the flames

Angel of death take my body
Take me away from this heat
Fold your hands and bless my soul
How long before you put out the fire
cover me with your cool hands
take my body
Oh, you can put out the fire

poem by Lauren Owens
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let the fire burn (vampire) Based on twilight.

And time will tell
If heaven can turn to hell
Angel near by, i cant be lost under this spell
Offset the flames

Angel of death take my body
Take me away from this heat
Fold your hands and bless my soul
How long before you put out the fire
cover me with your cool hands
take my body
Oh, you can put out the fire

poem by Twilighter dazzzler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lay My Body Down

Woman youre the closest thing
I know, to peace on earth
You warm to what feels cold in me
And healing to what hurts.
Woman can you tell me why
Im driven as I am
Is there something that I have
That makes you give a damn.
Be my comfort when the world
Waves me to the ground
Take me when Ive lost my way
Let me know Im found.
Be a blanket to my soul
Wrap it all around
Be a feather babe to me
And lay my body down.
Touch me with your finger tips
Give my burdens rest
Tell me not to worry so
I know that you know best.
Lady take my callused hands
And hold them in your arms
Lie against me in the dark
And show me Ive come home.
Be my comfort when the world
Waves me to the ground
Take me when Ive lost my way
Let me know Im found....

song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thermostat

When the hands that operate the motor lose control of the lever
When the mind of its own in the wheel puts two and two together
When the indicator says youre out of oil should you continue driving anyway?
Theres a thermostat that regulates the temperature
That might not be reliable
That should be disconnected
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
As I was just saying
As I was just saying
As I was just telling you a minute ago
I was just talking and someone interrupted
Or was it a loud explosion?
Or is the thermostat engulfed in flames
Or is it just me?
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
As I was just saying
As I was just saying
As I was just saying
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Turn Me Around

(c. coltrane)
I know Ive hurt you
And I wonder if you know
That I never really meant to
No, I never, never really meant to
Oh, things that have happened in my life
Oh, they brought me to the way I am today
Dont you know that for you, oh, I gladly change?
Oh, turn me around, turn me around
Now lead me to the place I should be found
Aah, turn me around, turn me around
Lift me to higher ground
Ah, things that Ive done to you
Oh, they made you think that I dont really care
How can i, somehow, some way, show you I do?
Aah, baby, turn me around, turn me around
Now lead me to the place I should be found
Oh, turn me around, turn me around
Lift me to higher ground
If you really, really want to
Aah, well you know that you can mould me to you
Aah, sweet baby
Turn me around, turn me around
Youd better lead me to the place I should be found
Oh, turn me around, turn me around
Lift me to higher
Turn me around, turn me around
Oh, and lead me to the place that I should be found, yeah
Turn me around, turn me around
Lift me to higher ground

song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Epiphanias

THE three holy kings with their star's bright ray,--
They eat and they drink, but had rather not pay;
They like to eat and drink away,
They eat and drink, but had rather not pay.

The three holy kings have all come here,
In number not four, but three they appear;
And if a fourth join'd the other three,
Increased by one their number would be.

The first am I,--the fair and the white,
I ought to be seen when the sun shines bright!
But, alas! with all my spices and myrrh,
No girl now likes me,--I please not her.

The next am I,--the brown and the long,
Known well to women, known well to song.
Instead of spices, 'tis gold I bear,
And so I'm welcome everywhere.

The last am I,--the black and small,
And fain would be right merry withal.
I like to eat and to drink full measure,
I eat and drink, and give thanks with pleasure.

The three holy kings are friendly and mild,
They seek the Mother, and seek the Child;
The pious Joseph is sitting by,
The ox and the ass on their litter lie.

We're bringing gold, we're bringing myrrh,
The women incense always prefer;
And if we have wine of a worthy growth,
We three to drink like six are not loth.

As here we see fair lads and lasses,
But not a sign of oxen or asses,
We know that we have gone astray
And so go further on our way.

poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burning Feet

No standing with these burning feet
I got to kill the the fire
Got to kill the heat
I see a road and a river
I gotta go
'cos there's fire in my shoes
And you're moving too slow
For these burning feet
I got to move
Burning feet
Need a cool groove
Burning feet
Win or lose
Looking to kill the heat
Oh these burning shoes
One day they'll find me in pieces,
By the side of the track
Smoke trail behind me,
Flames from my back
This is what made me,
Yeah how I was made
Forever, in the heat
And never in the shade
Of these burning feet
Burning feet
I got to move
Burning feet
Need a cool groove
Burning feet
Win or lose
Looking to kill the heat
Oh these burning shoes

song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Evening Quatrains

THE Day's grown old, the fainting Sun
Has but a little way to run,
And yet his steeds, with all his skill,
Scarce lug the chariot down the hill.
With labour spent, and thirst opprest,
Whilst they strain hard to gain the West,
From fetlocks hot drops melted light,
Which turn to meteors in the Night.
The shadows now so long do grow,
That brambles like tall cedars show,
Mole-hills seem mountains, and the ant
Appears a monstrous elephant.
A very little little flock
Shades thrice the ground that it would stock;
Whilst the small stripling following them
Appears a mighty Polypheme.
These being brought into the fold,
And by the thrifty master told
, [counted]
He thinks his wages are well paid,
Since none are either lost or stray'd.
Now lowing herds are each-where heard,
Chains rattle in the villian's
yard, [farmer]
The cart's on tail set down to rest,
Bearing on high the cuckold's crest.
The hedge is stripp'd, the clothes brought in,
Nought's left without should be within,
The bees are hiv'd, and hum their charm,
Whilst every house does seem a swarm.
The cock now to the roost is press'd:
For he must call up all the rest;
The sow's fast-pegg'd within the sty,
To still her squeaking progeny.
Each one has had his supping mess*, [meal]
The cheese is put into the press,
The pans and bowls are scalded all,
Rear'd up against the milk-house wall.
And now on benches all are sat
In the cool air to sit and chat,
Till Phoebus, dipping in the West,
Shall lead the World the way to rest.

poem by Charles Cotton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Levitate

Feel Heavy
Once Felt it... Hard
Question an answer
For a thousand days
Give birth to the Earth
Then let it drift away
Open and flow
Just swinging forever
Making love to the ground
Because it just feels better
It ain't easy
Drink it in
Think a while... Spit
There's both shining and darkness
Yet they share a day
Was there a man on a cross
Or was it just a fake
Even in shame
You can't hide your growth
Though the butterfly flies
He's sinking like a stone
The killing sun
It hurts my eyes
And comes hard
Onto my skin
And as I find shade
From tree to tree
I live to learn
To dig down deep
I feel the pain
And love the hurt
I don't complain
Trancing in the grass
Suck it off the world
When you're full of it
Shrug, feel fortunate
Then go where levitation lives
Where aggravation grows
Where sleeping's too hard
On the thinking bone
Intensity is what I need
To suffer for the pleasure
Its heat, hard, life and death
Living all together
In a small room
Full of me and my friends
Trying to find the means
To justify the end

song performed by by I Mother Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Burning Ground

And I take you down to the burning ground
And you change me up and you turned it around
In the wind and rain Im gonna see you again
In the morning sun and when the day is done
And you take my hand and you walk with me
Sometimes it feels like eternity
And I turn the tide I get back my pride
And I make you proud wont you say it out loud
When I take you down to the burning ground
To the burning ground, to the burning ground
To the burning ground, to the burning ground
And I take you down by the factory
And I show you like it has to be
And you understand how the work is done
And I pick up the sack in the midday sun
And I pull you through by the skin of your teeth
And I lift the veil, I see whats underneath
And you return to me and you sit on your throne
And you make me feel that Im not alone
And I take you down to the burning ground
To the burning ground, to the burning ground
To the burning ground
Hey man, whats that youre carrying?
Feels like lead
It weighs a ton - lets see if we can dump it by the side of the hill
Hey wait up, why dont you dump it on the burning ground
Dump it down there
Yeh man, dump the jute
Hey man dump the jute on the burning ground
Dump the jute?
Yeh you know, dump the jute
Dump the jute!
On the burning ground
On the burning ground
And you make me think what its all about
Sometimes I know gonna work it out
And I watch you run in the crimson sun
Tear my shirt apart open up my heart
And I watch you run
Down on your bended knees
By the burnt out well
Can you tell me please
Between heaven and hell
Wont you take me down
To the burning ground, to the burning ground
To the burning ground, to the burning ground
And you fall and pray, when you hear that sound
As were walking back to the burial mound
And you shake your head and you turn it around
And you see the flames from the burning ground
And you get down on your knees and pray
And I catch my breath as were running away
And I take the jute and I throw him down
On the burning ground, on the burning ground
On the burning ground, its on the burning ground.....

song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Deliver Us From The Elements

We can plant a seed
And watch it grow
Food enough to fill a table
Running water down an overflow
Eat as much as we are able
But would the fruit turn ripe
If the rains had never been?
Chorus: oh lord deliver us from the elements
We at your mercy and your reverence
Oh lord deliver us from the elements
Weve no defense we are impotent
You can travel far to distant lands
Some so hot no man could bear
You can conquer peaks with winds of sand
Where mother nature didnt care
Would not our world turn cold
If the sun refused to shine
Chorus
And when the world grows old
And we know more than our brains can hold
Nature will be law
Well were as helpless now as weve ever been before
Would not our world turn cold
If the sun refused to shine
Chorus

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Damon The Mower

Heark how the Mower Damon Sung,
With love of Juliana stung!
While ev'ry thing did seem to paint
The Scene more fit for his complaint.
Like her fair Eyes the day was fair;
But scorching like his am'rous Care.
Sharp like his Sythe his Sorrow was,
And wither'd like his Hopes the Grass.

Oh what unusual Heats are here,
Which thus our Sun-burn'd Meadows sear!
The Grass-hopper its pipe gives ore;
And hamstring'd Frogs can dance no more.
But in the brook the green Frog wades;
And Grass-hoppers seek out the shades.
Only the Snake, that kept within,
Now glitters in its second skin.

This heat the Sun could never raise,
Nor Dog-star so inflame's the dayes.
It from an higher Beauty grow'th,
Which burns the Fields and Mower both:
Which made the Dog, and makes the Sun
Hotter then his own Phaeton.
Not July causeth these Extremes,
But Juliana's scorching beams.

Tell me where I may pass the Fires
Of the hot day, or hot desires.
To what cool Cave shall I descend,
Or to what gelid Fountain bend?
Alas! I look for Ease in vain,
When Remedies themselves complain.
No moisture but my Tears do rest,
Nor Cold but in her Icy Breast.

How long wilt Thou, fair Shepheardess,
Esteem me, and my Presents less?
To Thee the harmless Snake I bring,
Disarmed of its teeth and sting.
To Thee Chameleons changing-hue,
And Oak leaves tipt with hony due.
Yet Thou ungrateful hast not sought
Nor what they are, nor who them brought.

I am the Mower Damon, known
Through all the Meadows I have mown.
On me the Morn her dew distills
Before her darling Daffadils.
And, if at Noon my toil me heat,
The Sun himself licks off my Sweat.
While, going home, the Ev'ning sweet
In cowslip-water bathes my feet.

What, though the piping Shepherd stock
The plains with an unnum'red Flock,
This Sithe of mine discovers wide
More ground then all his Sheep do hide.
With this the golden fleece I shear
Of all these Closes ev'ry Year.
And though in Wooll more poor then they,
Yet am I richer far in Hay.

Nor am I so deform'd to sight,
If in my Sithe I looked right;
In which I see my Picture done,
As in a crescent Moon the Sun.
The deathless Fairyes take me oft
To lead them in their Danses soft:
And, when I tune my self to sing,
About me they contract their Ring.

How happy might I still have mow'd,
Had not Love here his Thistles sow'd!
But now I all the day complain,
Joyning my Labour to my Pain;
And with my Sythe cut down the Grass,
Yet still my Grief is where it was:
But, when the Iron blunter grows,
Sighing I whet my Sythe and Woes.

While thus he threw his Elbow round,
Depopulating all the Ground,
And, with his whistling Sythe, does cut
Each stroke between the Earth and Root,
The edged Stele by careless chance
Did into his own Ankle glance;
And there among the Grass fell down,
By his own Sythe, the Mower mown.

Alas! said He, these hurts are slight
To those that dye by Loves despight.
With Shepherds-purse, and Clowns-all-heal,
The Blood I stanch, and Wound I seal.
Only for him no Cure is found,
Whom Julianas Eyes do wound.
'Tis death alone that this must do:
For Death thou art a Mower too.

poem by Andrew Marvell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Like It Hot

We want to multiply, are you gonna do it
I know youre qualified, are you gonna do it
Dont be so circumscribed, are you gonna do it
Just get yourself untied, are you gonna do it
Feel the heat pushing you to decide
Feel the heat burning you up, ready or not
Some like it hot and some sweat when the heat is on
Some feel the heat and decide that they cant go on
Some like it hot, but you cant tell how hot til you try
Some like it hot, so lets turn up the heat til we fry
The girl is at your side, are you gonna do it
She wants to be your bride, are you gonna do it
She wants to multiply, are you gonna do it
I know you wont be satisfied until you do it
Some like it hot and some sweat when the heat is on
Some feel the heat and decide that they cant go onv
Some like it hot, but you cant tell how hot til you try
Some like it hot, so lets turn up the heat til we fry
Feel the heat pushing you to decide
Feel the heat burning you up, ready or not
Some like it hot and some sweat when the heat is on
Some feel the heat and decide that they cant go on
Some like it hot, but you cant tell how hot til you try
Some like it hot, so lets turn up the heat til we fry
Some like it hot, some like it hot
Some like it hot, some like it hot
Some like it hot, some like it hot
Some like it hot, some like it hot

song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Infatuation

Infatuation is a temporary
emotion. It is ever fleeting,
as a cloud drifting by

As if a tree developing buds.
Their green leaves turn gold,
then brown, finially a wind
blowing them to the ground.
As they lay there, they
return to the earth and they
are gone.

They are ever changing like the
seasons, warm, hot, cool, and
cold.
Cool in Spring, warming up for
the Summer heat and passion.
But as the cool winds of Autumn
begin to blow, they tend to cool
and prepare for the icy chills
of Winter.

So like a lady changing her
attire. Putting on and taking
off her make-up. Ever changing,
so like infatuation

poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vanity of Vanities

Be ye happy, if ye may,
In the years that pass away.
Ye shall pass and be forgot,
And your place shall know you not.

Other generations rise,
With the same hope in their eyes
That in yours is kindled now,
And the same light on their brow.

They shall see the selfsame sun
That your eyes now gaze upon,
They shall breathe the same sweet air,
And shall reck not who ye were.

Yet they too shall fade at last
In the twilight of the past,
They and you alike shall be
Lost from the world's memory.

Then, while yet ye breathe and live,
Drink the cup that life can give.
Be ye happy, if ye may,
In the years that pass away,

Ere the golden bowl be broken,
Ere ye pass and leave no token,
Ere the silver cord be loosed,
Ere ye turn again to dust.

`And shall this be all,' ye cry,
`But to eat and drink and die?
If no more than this there be,
Vanity of vanity!'

Yea, all things are vanity,
And what else but vain are ye?
Ye who boast yourselves the kings
Over all created things.

Kings! whence came your right to reign?
Ye shall be dethroned again.
Yet for this, your one brief hour,
Wield your mockery of power.

Dupes of Fate, that treads you down
Wear awhile your tinsel crown
Be ye happy, if ye may,
In the years that pass away.

poem by Robert Fuller Murray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cool Refuge

At last, a place to hide away, cool refuge from the sun...
Some solitude, a chance to stay, where nothing much gets done.
A perfect spot meant to beguile the busy beasts on Earth,
No more to worry for a while, for what is worry worth?
The sun was fierce and in his face. Too close for comfort, friend.
The tiger tried to slow the pace till he was on the mend...
And once his ears heard nothing new, he slowly closed his eyes
And lowly breathed and time just flew and caught him by surprise.
The sun had moved across the sky, now tired, in retreat.
The tiger didn't question why the sky eye lost its heat.
Enough to know his cool refuge would soon be cooler still...
His change in mood would then be huge and end this passing thrill.
The tiger tarried in repose with great tranquillity
And gently scratched his tickled nose with tingling ecstasy...
One final hour in the shade... his refuge then grew cold.
The sad decision must be made, now that the day grew old...
So up he stood, with strength renewed, recharged and vibrant now
And thankful for this interlude, vowed to return... somehow...

The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cool Refuge'.

poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The West Wind

Beneath the forest's skirts I rest,
Whose branching pines rise dark and high,
And hear the breezes of the West
Among the threaded foliage sigh.

Sweet Zephyr! why that sound of wo?
Is not thy home among the flowers?
Do not the bright June roses blow,
To meet thy kiss at morning hours?

And lo! thy glorious realm outspread
Yon stretching valleys, green and gay,
And yon free hilltops, o'er whose head
The loose white clouds are borne away.

And there the full broad river runs,
And many a fount wells fresh and sweet,
To cool thee when the mid-day suns
Have made thee faint beneath their heat.

Thou wind of joy, and youth, and love;
Spirit of the new wakened year!
The sun in his blue realm above
Smooths a bright path when thou art here.

In lawns the murmuring bee is heard,
The wooing ring-dove in the shade;
On thy soft breath, the new-fledged bird
Takes wing, half happy, half afraid.

Ah! thou art like our wayward race;
When not a shade of pain or ill
Dims the bright smile of Nature's face,
Thou lov'st to sigh and murmur still.

poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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West Wind, The