Sonnet LXX: On Being Cautioned Against Walking on an Headland Overlooking the Sea, Because It Was Frequented by a Lunatic
Is there a solitary wretch who hies
To the tall cliff, with starting pace or slow,
And, measuring, views with wild and hollow eyes
Its distance from the waves that chide below;
Who, as the sea-born gale with frequent sighs
Chills his cold bed upon the mountain turf,
With hoarse, half-utter'd lamentation, lies
Murmuring responses to the dashing surf?
In moody sadness, on the giddy brink,
I see him more with envy than with fear;
He has no nice felicities that shrink
From giant horrors; wildly wandering here,
He seems (uncursed with reason) not to know
The depth or the duration of his woe.
poem by Charlotte Smith
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Related quotes
At the brink of our eyes
At the brink of our eyes flowing abound in us
a solitude sonnet born from our heart
and the bubble in our eyes never burst
and the biggest emotions never explored..
The fastiduous waves
chasing one another
dashing the shores in ablation
the unsaid love within us to explode....
Yet, the tremulous nerves
set ablaze the magnificient eyes
where the unsaid love in us,
at the brink of our eyes enjoyed in calm..
poem by Lily Peace Lago Every By To Ph
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409
Shes real fine my 409
Shes real fine my 409
My 409
Well I saved my pennies and I saved my dimes
(giddy up giddy up 409)
For I knew there would be a time
(giddy up giddy up 409)
When I would buy a brand new 409
(409, 409)
Giddy up giddy up giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 40...
Nothing can catch her
Nothing can touch my 409
409 ooooo
(giddy up giddy up oooo)
(giddy up giddy up oooo)
(giddy up giddy up oooo)
(giddy up giddy up)
When I take her to the track she really shines
(giddy up giddy up 409)
She always turns in the fastest times
(giddy up giddy up 409)
My four speed dual quad posi-traction 409
(409, 409, 409, 409)
Giddy up giddy up giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 409
(giddy up giddy up 409)
Giddy up 40...
Nothing can catch her
Nothing can touch my 409
(409 409 409 409)
Giddy up 409
(409 409 409 409)
Giddy up 409
(409 409 409 409)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fears of a teenage mafioso
Fear of love,
Fear of pain,
Fear of the unforgiving cane,
Fear of lies,
Fear of sighs,
Fear of those distraught eyes,
Fear for the unknown,
Fear for the known,
Fear of everything combined,
Fear is what makes me blind,
Fear is what makes me think,
and act in blind accordance,
Hindering the world around me,
Hence, My Fear of myself
Fear is when you run away,
Fear is when you’re scared to love someone,
Fear is when the sky turns grey,
Fear of confusion,
Fear is like a dark blue ocean,
Fear won’t let me escape
Fear mocks me, watching
Fear taunts me, waiting
Fear of losing,
Fear you cannot see,
Fear dealt upon thee.
Fear of darkness and death,
Fear of a dead comrade,
Fear of a gun being cocked,
Fear of being endlessly stalked,
Fear of time,
Fear of all the crime,
Fear of the undesirable truth,
Fear for the good.
Fear for the sake of life,
Fear of the neighbors next door,
Fear of the secretive man in the subway,
Fear of the revolutionary uproar,
Fear is to not rejoice your living,
Fear for the sake of your life,
But to fear is to forsake it.
Fear is to have no hope in life,
Fear of the fear of fear,
We need no reason to fear,
For fear has no reason for itself.
I guess life is just like that,
To fear for no reason,
For to fear is not to reason,
But to reason is to fear.
To fear for the sake of fear,
Is fear for fear,
So let me think,
What else do I fear?
What else do I fear?
What else do I fear?
poem by David daveres
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Sister Rosa: A Ballad
I.
The death-bell beats!--
The mountain repeats
The echoing sound of the knell;
And the dark Monk now
Wraps the cowl round his brow,
As he sits in his lonely cell.
II.
And the cold hand of death
Chills his shuddering breath,
As he lists to the fearful lay
Which the ghosts of the sky,
As they sweep wildly by,
Sing to departed day.
And they sing of the hour
When the stern fates had power
To resolve Rosa’s form to its clay.
III.
But that hour is past;
And that hour was the last
Of peace to the dark Monk’s brain.
Bitter tears, from his eyes, gushed silent and fast;
And he strove to suppress them in vain.
IV.
Then his fair cross of gold he dashed on the floor,
When the death-knell struck on his ear.--
'Delight is in store
For her evermore;
But for me is fate, horror, and fear.'
V.
Then his eyes wildly rolled,
When the death-bell tolled,
And he raged in terrific woe.
And he stamped on the ground,--
But when ceased the sound,
Tears again began to flow.
VI.
And the ice of despair
Chilled the wild throb of care,
And he sate in mute agony still;
Till the night-stars shone through the cloudless air,
And the pale moonbeam slept on the hill.
VII.
Then he knelt in his cell:--
And the horrors of hell
Were delights to his agonized pain,
And he prayed to God to dissolve the spell,
Which else must for ever remain.
VIII.
And in fervent pray'r he knelt on the ground,
Till the abbey bell struck One:
His feverish blood ran chill at the sound:
A voice hollow and horrible murmured around--
'The term of thy penance is done!'
IX.
Grew dark the night;
The moonbeam bright
Waxed faint on the mountain high;
And, from the black hill,
Went a voice cold and still,--
'Monk! thou art free to die.'
X.
Then he rose on his feet,
And his heart loud did beat,
And his limbs they were palsied with dread;
Whilst the grave's clammy dew
O'er his pale forehead grew;
And he shuddered to sleep with the dead.
XI.
And the wild midnight storm
Raved around his tall form,
As he sought the chapel's gloom:
And the sunk grass did sigh
To the wind, bleak and high,
As he searched for the new-made tomb.
XII.
And forms, dark and high,
Seemed around him to fly,
And mingle their yells with the blast:
And on the dark wall
Half-seen shadows did fall,
As enhorrored he onward passed.
XIII.
And the storm-fiends wild rave
O’er the new-made grave,
And dread shadows linger around.
The Monk called on God his soul to save,
And, in horror, sank on the ground.
XIV.
Then despair nerved his arm
To dispel the charm,
And he burst Rosa's coffin asunder.
And the fierce storm did swell
More terrific and fell,
And louder pealed the thunder.
XV.
And laughed, in joy, the fiendish throng,
Mixed with ghosts of the mouldering dead:
And their grisly wings, as they floated along,
Whistled in murmurs dread.
XVI.
And her skeleton form the dead Nun reared
Which dripped with the chill dew of hell.
In her half-eaten eyeballs two pale flames appeared,
And triumphant their gleam on the dark Monk glared,
As he stood within the cell.
XVII.
And her lank hand lay on his shuddering brain;
But each power was nerved by fear.--
'I never, henceforth, may breathe again;
Death now ends mine anguished pain.--
The grave yawns,--we meet there.'
XVIII.
And her skeleton lungs did utter the sound,
So deadly, so lone, and so fell,
That in long vibrations shuddered the ground;
And as the stern notes floated around,
A deep groan was answered from hell.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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To Contemplation
Faint gleams the evening radiance thro' the sky,
The sober twilight dimly darkens round;
In short quick circles the shrill bat flits by,
And the slow vapour curls along the ground.
Now the pleas'd eye from yon lone cottage sees
On the green mead the smoke long-shadowing play;
The Red-breast on the blossom'd spray
Warbles wild her latest lay,
And sleeps along the dale the silent breeze.
Calm CONTEMPLATION,'tis thy favorite hour!
Come fill my bosom, tranquillizing Power.
Meek Power! I view thee on the calmy shore
When Ocean stills his waves to rest;
Or when slow-moving on the surge's hoar
Meet with deep hollow roar
And whiten o'er his breast;
For lo! the Moon with softer radiance gleams,
And lovelier heave the billows in her beams.
When the low gales of evening moan along,
I love with thee to feel the calm cool breeze,
And roam the pathless forest wilds among,
Listening the mellow murmur of the trees
Full-foliaged as they lift their arms on high
And wave their shadowy heads in wildest melody.
Or lead me where amid the tranquil vale
The broken stream flows on in silver light,
And I will linger where the gale
O'er the bank of violets sighs,
Listening to hear its soften'd sounds arise;
And hearken the dull beetle's drowsy flight,
And watch the horn-eyed snail
Creep o'er his long moon-glittering trail,
And mark where radiant thro' the night
Moves in the grass-green hedge the glow-worms living light.
Thee meekest Power! I love to meet,
As oft with even solitary pace
The scatter'd Abbeys hallowed rounds I trace
And listen to the echoings of my feet.
Or on the half demolished tomb,
Whole warning texts anticipate my doom:
Mark the clear orb of night
Cast thro' the storying glass a faintly-varied light.
Nor will I not in some more gloomy hour
Invoke with fearless awe thine holier power,
Wandering beneath the sainted pile
When the blast moans along the darksome aisle,
And clattering patters all around
The midnight shower with dreary sound.
But sweeter 'tis to wander wild
By melancholy dreams beguil'd,
While the summer moon's pale ray
Faintly guides me on my way
To the lone romantic glen
Far from all the haunts of men,
Where no noise of uproar rude
Breaks the calm of solitude.
But soothing Silence sleeps in all
Save the neighbouring waterfall,
Whose hoarse waters falling near
Load with hollow sounds the ear,
And with down-dasht torrent white
Gleam hoary thro' the shades of night.
Thus wandering silent on and slow
I'll nurse Reflection's sacred woe,
And muse upon the perish'd day
When Hope would weave her visions gay,
Ere FANCY chill'd by adverse fate
Left sad REALITY my mate.
O CONTEMPLATION! when to Memory's eyes
The visions of the long-past days arise,
Thy holy power imparts the best relief,
And the calm'd Spirit loves the joy of grief.
poem by Robert Southey
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Sonnet XXXII. To Melancholy
Written on the banks of the Arun, Oct. 1785.
WHEN latest Autumn spreads her evening veil,
And the grey mists from these dim waves arise,
I love to listen to the hollow sighs,
Through the half-leafless wood that breathes the gale:
For at such hours the shadowy phantom, pale,
Oft seems to fleet before the poet's eyes;
Strange sounds are heard, and mournful melodies,
As of night wanderers, who their woes bewail
Here, by his native stream, at such an hour,
Pity's own Otway I methinks could meet,
And hear his deep sighs swell the sadden'd wind!
O Melancholy!--such thy magic power,
That to the soul these dreams are often sweet,
And sooth the pensive visionary mind!
poem by Charlotte Smith
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Sea-Shells
I gathered shells upon the sand,
Each shell a little perfect thing,
So frail, yet potent to withstand
The mountain-waves' wild buffeting.
Through storms no ship could dare to brave
The little shells float lightly, save
All that they might have lost of fine
Shape and soft colour crystalline.
Yet I amid the world's wild surge
Doubt if my soul can face the strife,
The waves of circumstance that urge
That slight ship on the rocks of life.
O soul, be brave, for He who saves
The frail shell in the giant waves,
Will bring thy puny bark to land
Safe in the hollow of His hand.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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To Captain West, of the Steamer Atlantic
The gathering clouds around us lower,
The tempest wildly raves,
But fearlessly our noble ship
The angry ocean braves,
And buoyant as a sea-bird rides
The crested mountain waves.
The gale, the storm, the night may come,
No fear disturbs the breast;
Our ship is strong,---our Captain brave,---
And we securely rest.
Long life to him and all his Line!
Health to the gallant West!
Pilgrims to many lands are we,
And now our travel o'er
Once more beneath the Stars and Stripes
We near our native shore;
And since we parted from it last
Who does not love it more?
Adieu, new friends and old, adieu!
May every wandering breeze
That meets you on the Voyage of Life
Be far less rude than these
That our good ship has met so well
Upon the wintry seas.
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Autumn, Break of Day
The troubled waters—
tumbling forth over the sand,
flowing underneath
a rising mist, a lowly,
billowing fog that
obscures the distance before
me—slow down in time,
captured in the winter glaze,
shoreline frozen fast,
ripples pausing in moonlight,
waves ebbing, whisked where
twilit shadows fall on us.
Snow begins to pack
on the banks where streams would once
flourish, where petals
would fall off the autumn trees
to float where they may—
drifting through the still season
to the cold mountains
where the air thins, softly chills,
and where quiet comes
to those who seek it. Silence
like seaweed gathers
in the surf that sways forward,
Washing past the swell
that pools in the remains of
the skittering day.
Upon an embankment, branches
interlace, weaving
a clumsily gathered web
of half-forgotten
memories—the unspoken,
fading mirages,
the illusive scurf of life.
The troubled waters
grow idle, torpid with frost.
The troubled waters
hush by the dawn, and settle
by the break of day.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Drowned at Sea
Gloomy cliffs, so worn and wasted with the washing of the waves,
Are ye not like giant tombstones round those lonely ocean graves?
Are ye not the sad memorials, telling of a mighty grief —
Dark with records ground and lettered into caverned rock and reef?
Oh! ye show them, and I know them, and my thoughts in mourning go
Down amongst your sunless chasms, deep into the surf below!
Oh! ye bear them, and declare them, and o’er every cleft and scar,
I have wept for dear dead brothers perished in the lost Dunbar!
Ye smitten — ye battered,
And splintered and shattered
Cliffs of the Sea!
Restless waves, so dim with dreams of sudden storms and gusty surge,
Roaring like a gathered whirlwind reeling round a mountain verge,
Were ye not like loosened maniacs, in the night when Beauty pale
Called upon her God, beseeching through the uproar of the gale?
Were ye not like maddened demons while young children faint with fear
Cried and cried and cried for succour, and no helping hand was near?
Oh, the sorrow of the morrow! — lamentations near and far! —
Oh, the sobs for dear dead sisters perished in the lost Dunbar! —
Ye ruthless, unsated,
And hateful, and hated
Waves of the Sea!
Ay, we stooped and moaned in darkness —
eyes might strain and hearts might plead,
For their darlings crying wildly, they would never rise nor heed!
Ay, we yearned into their faces looking for the life in vain,
Wailing like to children blinded with a mist of sudden pain!
Dear hands clenched, and dear eyes rigid in a stern and stony stare,
Dear lips white from past affliction, dead to all our mad despair,
Ah, the groaning and the moaning — ah, the thoughts which rise in tears
When we turn to all those loved ones, looking backward five long years!
The fathers and mothers,
The sisters and brothers
Drowned at Sea!
poem by Henry Kendall
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It's Hard To Be Me
You see me everywhere, in my underwear
You may wonder what I'm here to sell
But underneath my stare, I'm so naked there
There are secrets I'm dying to tell
It's Hard to be Me
Nobody knows what it's like to be
The envy of mediocrity
If you could see
All my depth and complexity
I'd think you'd agree
It's Hard to be Me; It's Hard to be Me
I am up here alone, on my glamorous throne
Want to thank all you people down there
I was once an unknown, like you but I've grown
I have so much I'm hoping to share
It's Hard to be Me
Nobody knows what it's like to be
The envy of mediocrity
If you could see
All my depth and complexity
I'd think you'd agree
It's Hard to be Me, It's Hard to be Me
I guess you think that it's hard for you
Walking 'round in your little shoes
You don't know how I've sacrificed
To live this life, to look so nice
It's Hard to be Me
Nobody knows what it's like to be
The envy of mediocrity
If you could see
All my depth and complexity
I'd think you'd agree
It's Hard to be Me, It's Hard to be Me
Me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me, me
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sleigh Ride/jingle Bells
(leroy anderson/mitchell parish)
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one horse open sleigh
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way...
In a one horse open sleigh
Just hear those sleigh bells jinglin
Ring-ting-tinglin, too
Come on, its lovely weather
For a sleigh ride together with you
Outside the snow is falling
And friend are calling yoo hoo!
Come on, its lovely weather
For a sleigh ride together with you
Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up
Lets go
Lets look at the show
Were riding in a wonderland of snow
Giddy-up, giddy-up, giddy-up
Its grand
Just holding your hand
Were gliding along with a song of a wintery fairyland
Our cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy-cozy are we
Were snuggled up together
Like birds of a feather would be
Lets take the road before us and sing a chorus or two
Come on, its lovely weather for a...
Lovely weather for a...
Lovely weather for a...
Lovely weather for a sleigh ride
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
Oh what fun it is to ride
In a one horse open sleigh
Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way...
In a one horse open sleigh
Dashing through the snow...
In a one horse open sleigh
Lovely weather for a sleigh ride
Lovely weather
Dashing through the snow
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yin And Yang
the tall cliffs
and the rough stones
and boulders
by the sea
the males
the waves bashing
and dashing
with tongues licking
the bodies of stone
and rising cliffs
towards the skies
the females
yin and yang
in nature.
the feet that the sea licks
the waves as tongues
and the tall cliffs as
symbols
the phallus and the tongue
the rocks and the waves
male and female
and then the outbursts of morning light
spilling
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Odysseus' Fate
Through horrors of land and horrors of sea
Bereft and wandering, Odysseus,
God-fearing wretch, sought Ithaca;
Unfaltering, he plunged into the gloom of Hades;
The roar of fierce Charybdis and underwater Scylla's groans
Shook not his noble soul.
His patience vanquished cruel fate, it seemed,
And to the dregs he'd drunk the bitter cup.
It seemed the heav'ns were done with testing him
And drove him softly, slumbering,
To homeland's longed-for cliffs.
He waked: what then? He did not know his home.
poem by Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov
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Waves Of Fear
Waves of fear, attack in the night
Waves if revulsion, sickening sights
My hearts nearly bursting, my chests choking tight
Waves of fear, waves of fear
Waves of fear, squat on the floor
Looking for some pill, the liquor is gone
Blood trips from my nose, I can barely breathe
Waves of fear, Im too scared to leave
Waves of fear, waves of fear
Waves of fear, waves of fear
Im too afraid to use the phone
Im too afraid to put the light on
Im so afraid Ive lost control
Im suffocating without a word
Crazy with sweat, spittle on my jaw
Whats that funny noise, whats that on the floor
Waves of fear, pulsing with death
I curse my tremors, I jump at my own step
I cringe at my terror, I hate my own smell
I know where I must be, I must be in hell
Waves of fear, waves of fear
Waves of fear, waves of fear
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dusk In Nepal (at returning from there)
The sun calls back of its rays,
And ready to go far behind,
Birds and cattle are on their ways,
To reach home before the day turns blind,
A lark comes and claspes its nestling,
With my friends I see at the road,
Rolled down eyes pearls, I kept on smiling,
I miss my mother badly in abroad.
It gets dark, wild, bitterly winds blow,
And this cause the cold to grow,
By and by we make our pace slow,
And into a creeping bus in a row,
My emotions let me on my fancies fly,
All of sudden, I unwell vomit twice,
Once at a man whom to aside I try,
But journey has been certainly nice.
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
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Sunday Afternoon
I can think of better days
As I look into your eyes
And I feel that in a way
I know that youll be alright
And he walks for a mile
Its his style
Baby never acts wild
Feels hes invencible
He walks for a while
But I never ask why
He needs his time in isolation
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Im gonna whisper in your ear
Ive a lot of things to say to you
Ill give you all my universe
Youre all I want and thats for sure
And he walks for a mile
Its his style
Baby never acts wild
Feels hes invencible
He walks for a while
But I never ask why
He needs his time in isolation
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
In your darkest hour
Take my hand and Ill show you
Understand it much better
Ill make sure you get there
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
Its your views
On your groove
On a sunday afternoon
Paint it slow
Then youll know
What you need to work out soon
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Until Reason Itself, Avails
Happy Birthday Gabriella-Daddy wishes he could be there-
As today of all days, a Father should be where
His beloved little Princess celebrates the day of her birth-
To exalt with one another, in a most magnificent mirth!
Alas, circumstance has conspired, to distance us-
A fact that resides with me each solitary moment;
I maintain faith though, as my persistence must
Garner the reward that brings to cease, this torment!
That I may not be there is causal to much lamentation-
As the reason for same defies any reasoned explication;
Alas, the only gift I may offer to you
Is my unceasing love, which I proffer to you-
Bide you must with same, until reason itself, avails-
Which shan't be, until true justice itslef, prevails!
poem by Maurice Harris
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Eyes Will Tell
without your love my dearest i would surely die
for when we met my feelings started to rise.
they started at a slow but steady pace
and then they took off; running their own kind of race.
i know that you felt what i was feeling too!
by the way your eyes looked at me.
our eyes interlocked and the feelings started to grow.
much more than you could or will ever know.
you tried to take your look away from me
just so that my eyes could'nt see.
that blushing glow, was because of what?
you felt it deep inside
were you feeling something dear?
of what your eyes were unable to hide?
now when we look into each others eyes
all we could see is the depth of love inside.
eyes will tell all of your hopes and dreams
of those deep and hidden things unseen.
you can see disappointment, sadness and anger
and all of your hidden rest.
but just look into your loved ones eyes
and it will put all of your feelings to the test.
poem by Louis Rams
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It Is All Your Decision
dressed so thickly on a cold season
you decide to go to the top of the mountain
alone, and there you sit for hours looking at
the trees, and hills, and patches of villages
below, your feet hangs on a cliff, your hands on
the side of the mountain, secure on the tall grass
beside you, some twigs whisper the necessity
of being alone with yourself, wondering what
happens next, when you finally decide to jump
and then forget about what happens
next. This is the ultimate decision of your life.
To end it
Or to go down and think and start all over
again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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