A young Fir-Wood
THESE little firs to-day are things
To clasp into a giant's cap,
Or fans to suit his lady's lap.
From many winters many springs
Shall cherish them in strength and sap
Till they be marked upon the map,
A wood for the wind's wanderings.
All seed is in the sower's hands:
And what at first was trained to spread
Its shelter for some single head,—
Yea, even such fellowship of wands,—
May hide the sunset, and the shade
Of its great multitude be laid
Upon the earth and elder sands.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Acorn
The seed has started,—who can stay it? see,
The leaves are sprouting high above the ground;
Already o'er the flowers, its head; the tree
That rose beside it and that on it frowned,
Behold! is but a small bush by its side.
Still on! it cannot stop; its branches spread;
It looks o'er all the earth in giant pride.
The nations find upon its limbs their bread,
Its boughs their millions shelter from the heat,
Beneath its shade see kindreds, tongues, and all
That the wide world contains, they all retreat
Beneath the shelter of that acorn small
That late thou flung away; 'twas the best gift
That heaven e'er gave;—its head the low shall lift.
poem by Jones Very
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Day Off
Let us put awhile away
All the cares of work-a-day,
For a golden time forget,
Task and worry, toil and fret,
Let us take a day to dream
In the meadow by the stream.
We may lie in grasses cool
Fringing a pellucid pool,
We may learn the gay brook-runes
Sung on amber afternoons,
And the keen wind-rhyme that fills
Mossy hollows of the hills.
Where the wild-wood whisper stirs
We may talk with lisping firs,
We may gather honeyed blooms
In the dappled forest glooms,
We may eat of berries red
O'er the emerald upland spread.
We may linger as we will
In the sunset valleys still,
Till the gypsy shadows creep
From the starlit land of sleep,
And the mist of evening gray
Girdles round our pilgrim way.
We may bring to work again
Courage from the tasselled glen,
Bring a strength unfailing won
From the paths of cloud and sun,
And the wholesome zest that springs
From all happy, growing things.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Furrow And The Hearth
I
STRIDE the hill, Sower,
Up to the sky ridge,
Flinging the seed,
Scattering, exultant!
Mouthing great rhythms
To the long sea-beats
On the wide shore, behind
The ridge of the hillside.
Below in the darkness
The slumber of mothers,
The cradles at rest,
The fire-seed sleeping
Deep in white ashes!
Give to darkness and sleep,
O Sower, O Seer!
Give me to the earth
With the seed I would enter!
Oh, the growth through the silence
From strength to new strength;
Then the strong bursting forth
Against primal forces,
To laugh in the sunshine,
To gladden the world!
II
Who will bring the red fire
Unto a new hearth?
Who will lay the wide stone
On the waste of the earth?
Who is fain to begin
To build day by day
To raise up his house
Of the moist yellow clay?
There's clay for the making
Moist in the pit,
There are horses to trample
The rushes through it.
Above where the wild duck
Arise up and fly,
There one can build
To the wind and the sky.
There are boughs in the forest
To pluck young and green,
O'er them thatch of the crop
Shall be heavy and clean.
I speak unto him
Who in dead of the night
Sees the red streaks
In the ash deep and white;
While around him he hears
Men stir in their rest,
And the stir of the babe
That is close to the breast!
He shall arise,
He shall go forth alone,
Lay stone on the earth,
And bring fire to stone.
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Boy With A Moon And Star On His Head
A gardener's daughter stopped me on my way, on the day i was
To wed
It is you who i wish to share my body with she said
We'll find a dry place under the sky with a flower for a bed
And for my joy i will give you a boy with a moon and
Star on his head.
Her silver hair flowed in the air laying waves across the sun
Her hands were like the white sands, and her eyes had
Diamonds on.
We left the road and headed up to the top of the
Whisper wood
And we walked 'till we came to where the holy magnolia stood.
And there we laid cool in the shade singing songs and
Making love...
With the naked earth beneath us and the universe above.
The time was late my wedding wouldn't wait i was sad but
I had to go,
So while she was asleep i kissed her cheek for cheerio.
The wedding took place and people came from many
Miles around
There was plenty merriment, cider and wine abound
But out of all that i recall i remembered the girl i met
'cause she had given me something that my hear could not
Forget.
A year had passed and everything was just as it was a year
Before...
As if was a year before...
Until the gift that someone left, a basket by my door.
And in there lay the fairest little baby crying to be fed,
I got down on my knees and kissed the moon and star on
His head.
As years went by the boy grew high and the village looked
On in awe
They'd never seen anything like the boy with the moon and
Star before.
And people would ride from far and wide just to seek the
Word he spread
I'll tell you everything i've learned, and love is all...he said.
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Boy With A Moon & Star On His Head
A gardeners daughter stopped me on my way, on the day I was
To wed
It is you who I wish to share my body with she said
Well find a dry place under the sky with a flower for a bed
And for my joy I will give you a boy with a moon and
Star on his head.
Her silver hair flowed in the air laying waves across the sun
Her hands were like the white sands, and her eyes had
Diamonds on.
We left the road and headed up to the top of the
Whisper wood
And we walked till we came to where the holy magnolia stood.
And there we laid cool in the shade singing songs and
Making love...
With the naked earth beneath us and the universe above.
The time was late my wedding wouldnt wait I was sad but
I had to go,
So while she was asleep I kissed her cheek for cheerio.
The wedding took place and people came from many
Miles around
There was plenty merriment, cider and wine abound
But out of all that I recall I remembered the girl I met
cause she had given me something that my hear could not
Forget.
A year had passed and everything was just as it was a year
Before...
As if was a year before...
Until the gift that someone left, a basket by my door.
And in there lay the fairest little baby crying to be fed,
I got down on my knees and kissed the moon and star on
His head.
As years went by the boy grew high and the village looked
On in awe
Theyd never seen anything like the boy with the moon and
Star before.
And people would ride from far and wide just to seek the
Word he spread
Ill tell you everything Ive learned, and love is all...he said.
song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Holy Thursday (Innocence)
Twas on a Holy Thursday their innocent faces clean
The children walking two & two in red & blue & green
Grey headed beadles walked before with wands as white as snow
Till into the high dome of Pauls they like Thames waters flow
O what a multitude they seemed these flowers of London town
Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own
The hum of multitudes was there but multitudes of lambs
Thousands of little boys & girls raising their innocent hands
Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among
Beneath them sit the aged men wise guardians of the poor
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door
poem by William Blake
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Sower
The winds had hushed at last as by command;
The quiet sky above,
With its grey clouds spread oer the fallow land,
Sat brooding like a dove.
There was no motion in the air, no sound
Within the tree-tops stirred,
Save when some last leaf, fluttering to the ground,
Dropped like a wounded bird.
Or when the swart rooks in a gathering crowd
With clamorous noises wheeled,
Hovering awhile, then swooped with wrangling loud
Down to the stubbly field.
For now the big-thewed horses, toiling slow
In straining couples yoked,
Patiently dragged the plowshare to and fro
Till their wet haunches smoked.
Till the stiff acre, broken into clods,
Bruised by the harrow's tooth,
Lay lightly shaken, with its humid sods
Ranged into furrows smooth.
There looming lone, from rise to set of sun,
Without or pause or speed,
Solemnly striding by the furrows dun,
The sower sows the seed.
The sower sows the seed, which mouldering,
Deep coffined in the earth,
Is buried now, but with the future spring
Will quicken into birth.
Oh, poles of birth and death! Controlling Powers
Of human toil and need!
On this fair earth all men are surely sowers,
Surely all life is seed!
All life is seed, dropped in Time's yawning furrow,
Which with slow sprout and shoot,
In the revolving world's unfathomed morrow,
Will blossom and bear fruit.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Holy Thursday
’Twas on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean,
The children walking two and two, in red and blue and green,
Grey-headed beadles walk'd before, with wands as white as snow,
Till into the high dome of Paul’s they like Thames' waters flow.
O what a multitude they seem'd, these flowers of London town!
Seated in companies they sit with radiance all their own.
The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs,
Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands.
Now like a mighty wind they raise to Heaven the voice of song,
Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of Heaven among.
Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor;
Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.
poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Rome
IMPERIAL city, slumb'ring on the throne
Of vanished empire, once thy voice and hands
Rocked the wide world; thy finger wove the lands
Into thy girdle; who for crown alone
Didst wear the stars. Yet still in undertone
5
Man hears thy deathless utterance, tho' Time's sands
Roll centuries; thou clasp'st the earth with bands
Of speech, art, law, and subtle powers unknown.
Thou wast not meant to die; thy mighty heart
Pulsed with the universe. Thy deeds of old
10
Flame like the sunset skies thro' clouds which throng;
They blazon on thy throne a name apart
In red of mighty victories, in gold
Of all things valorous and great and strong.
poem by Frederick George Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Spell For Creation
Within the flower there lies a seed,
Within the seed there springs a tree,
Within the tree there spreads a wood.
In the wood there burns a fire,
And in the fire there melts a stone,
Within the stone a ring of iron.
Within the ring there lies an O,
Within the O there looks an eye,
In the eye there swims a sea,
And in the sea reflected sky,
And in the sky there shines the sun,
Within the sun a bird of gold.
Within the bird there beats a heart,
And from the heart there flows a song,
And in the song there sings a word.
In the word there speaks a world,
A world of joy, a world of grief,
From joy and grief there springs my love.
Oh love, my love, there springs a world,
And on the world there shines a sun,
And in the sun there burns a fire,
Within the fire consumes my heart,
And in my heart there beats a bird,
And in the bird there wakes an eye,
Within the eye, earth, sea and sky,
Earth, sky and sea within an O
Lie like the seed within the flower.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sea-Lavender
Lavender, sea lavender!
Pale sweet flower how full of her!
Flower discreet, with your priest's eyes
Trained in all time's mysteries,
Yet how chastely calmly sealed!
Flower of passions unrevealed,
Stainless eyes, but none the less
Wise in life's most nakedness,
With its inward hours of sin,
Known to thee, and all therein;
And how soul with soul found might,
In the watches of the night,
Cherishing an unseen joy,
Man with woman, girl with boy,
Under the sky's multitude,
Till the pulsings of their blood
Led them into ways unknown,
Flesh of flesh and bone of bone
Clasped in one, till doubt was over,
And they went forth loved and lover
Bride and groom to their new home.
See, to--day to you I come,
Flower of wisdom who know all,
To your mute confessional,
Wanting love and wanting her,
(Lavender, sea lavender!)
In a world where she is not,
Mined with plot and counterplot
Built against our happiness.
You, who know her most, can guess
What her thought is far from me,
What soft wind of memory
Fans her with a scent of pleasure,
What sweet song in what sweet measure
Trilled by birds when day was breaking
And each tremulous throat awaking
Strained to make its passion heard
Louder there than other bird,
While we listened, we too, straining
Heart to heart, and watched the waning
Moon fade slowly like a feather
In the red East, close together,
Near, how near, who now are far.
Tell me what her fancies are.
Does she love still? Does she cherish,
In the waste of days that perish
That one dawn, which cannot die?
Nay, I know it, nor will I
Doubt of love or doubt of her,
(Lavender, sea lavender!)
Since she knows and understands
That my hands still hold her hands.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Miracle of the Sun at Fatima, Portugal, Oct 13th,1917
The sun stood still in the horizon clear,
And looked as bright as one, they all had seen;
But they could look at it without fear,
Sans blinking, delighted by its sheen.
This lasted but a moment, then!
And as the multitude gazed
The sun began to dance
And whirled rapidly and dazed
Like a giant fire-wheel!
After sometime, it stopped.
It rotated again with speed
Increasingly, making the on-lookers dizzy;
And from its crimson rim arose
Blood-red streamers of flame in sky
That touched all things on earth
In a colourful bright spectrum.
Three times, the sun gyrated thus;
The fiery orb trembled with rage;
It shuddered, hurtled suddenly,
In zig-zag way, towards the crowd!
Terrified, the multitude
Uttered a fearful cry
In unison, and fell
Upon their knees!
All felt the doomsday had arrived!
The air was warmer than ever
And threatened to enflame all things
Upon the earth, it touched!
Fatima was a heaven’s sign
Of Apocalypse – the end of times!
Some kind of a God’s design
To tell the world of Christ’s
Second coming was to begin!
The Lady who wore the sun as garb
Was Our Lady of Fatima,
Looking brighter than sun’s orb!
The miracle was to warn the world
Of men to lives amend!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lady Run, Lady Hide
(myles goodwyn/jim clench)
Published by summerlea music, ltd. - bmi
Lovely lady, silent lady
Will tomorrow be the last day in your life
I cant free you, only plea you
On the last days of your life
Lady run, lady hide
Lady run, lady hide
Lonely lady, lovely lady
Do you know, do you know youve lost the fight
Cause well use you, and abuse you
On the last days of your life
Our tomorrow is now today
And our last chance to find a way
Youd think wed learn, youd think wed try
When tomorrow we all could die
Lady run, lady hide
Lady run, lady hide
Lady run, lady hide
Lady run, lady hide, lady hide
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Woodman And Echo
Close Echo hears the woodman's axe,
To double on it, as in glee,
With clap of hands, and little lacks
Of meaning in her repartee.
For all shall fall,
As one has done,
The tree of me,
Of thee the tree;
And unto all
The fate we wait
Reveals the wheels
Whereon we run:
We tower to flower,
We spread the shade,
We drop for crop,
At length are laid;
Are rolled in mould,
From chop and lop:
And are we thick in woodland tracks,
Or tempting of our stature we,
The end is one, we do but wax
For service over land and sea.
So, strike! the like
Shall thus of us,
My brawny woodman, claim the tax.
Nor foe thy blow,
Though wood be good,
And shriekingly the timber cracks:
The ground we crowned
Shall speed the seed
Of younger into swelling sacks.
For use he hews,
To make awake
The spirit of what stuff we be:
Our earth of mirth
And tears he clears
For braver, let our minds agree;
And then will men
Within them win
An Echo clapping harmony.
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Seed
The wind carried the seed
Into the air to who knows where
Across the weeds, floated the seed
Until to rest on the earth, which laid bare.
And then cried the seed upon the rise
Someday I, I will be a tree,
Liken my brothers, who will be like me
And I will grow to touch the sky.
The seed again journeyed upon the wind
Over the grass and wooded paths
Above the trees, cousins to him
Past the flowers who were his friends.
While he dreamed someday; he too would have many limbs.
The seed finally lighted upon the ground
From where he chose, so his mighty roots would grow
God will water me and give me light, he cried
He will also destroy my enemies and help me rise,
But then arrived a bird, who ate the seed.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Whatever kind of seed is sown in a field, prepared in due season, a plant of that same kind, marked with the peculiar qualities of the seed, springs up in it.
quote by Guru Nanak
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Why At All I Came To This Earth
Why at all I came to this earth
It must be two years now
Since I am with you all
I really could not make out
How far my parents were happy
On my arrival
I knew I did not get many things
Which I wanted, rather needed
For a total growth
And emotional support
I started noting that
My parents did not like each other
Often they argued on matters
Which were beyond my perception
They too were running short
Of many things, probably
I have two elder sisters
From their talking
I came to know that
Our family was in great trouble
One evening my mom took me from home
And for the first time
We were travelling in a vehicle
Rushing us to a new place
My mom left me with some one
And that some one handed over me
To some other one
Thus I kept on moving from hands to hands
Leaving me to wonder
Where this changing hands will stop
I was a bit comfortable with the
Little girl, the last lap,
Who really attended to my needs
Better than even what my mom did
But some where some thing happened
I started feeling pain on my head
Which persisted and kept on increasing
I could not talk about this
But, cried, cried and cried
The little girl attempted to comfort me
But, it did not relieve my pain
The girl became angry with me
And started beating me
I could not register what went on further
I was in a new environment
Definitely much cleaner and better
Than any of the places I lived so far
All in white
People were attending to me
And giving me what all
They feel I needed
But, here I could not move
All the time in bed
I used to think how nice it will be
If I could spend all my time like this
Things did not happen that way, though
As I could see myself from the above
All these people in white
Keeping busy around me in the bed
I tried to tell them
See, here up, I am very much here
I know, this is death
As my elder sisters told me
You will go up and up
To God's caring hands
Once you die
I am going to Him is what
I understood
But then, tell me
Why at all I came to this earth
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Madona Mia
UNDER green apple-boughs
That never a storm will rouse,
My lady hath her house
Between two bowers;
In either of the twain
Red roses full of rain;
She hath for bondwomen
All kind of flowers.
She hath no handmaid fair
To draw her curled gold hair
Through rings of gold that bear
Her whole hair’s weight;
She hath no maids to stand
Gold-clothed on either hand;
In all the great green land
None is so great.
She hath no more to wear
But one white hood of vair
Drawn over eyes and hair,
Wrought with strange gold,
Made for some great queen’s head,
Some fair great queen since dead;
And one strait gown of red
Against the cold.
Beneath her eyelids deep
Love lying seems asleep,
Love, swift to wake, to weep,
To laugh, to gaze;
Her breasts are like white birds,
And all her gracious words
As water-grass to herds
In the June-days.
To her all dews that fall
And rains are musical;
Her flowers are fed from all,
Her joy from these;
In the deep-feathered firs
Their gift of joy is hers,
In the least breath that stirs
Across the trees.
She grows with greenest leaves,
Ripens with reddest sheaves,
Forgets, remembers, grieves,
And is not sad;
The quiet lands and skies
Leave light upon her eyes;
None knows her, weak or wise,
Or tired or glad.
None knows, none understands,
What flowers are like her hands;
Though you should search all lands
Wherein time grows,
What snows are like her feet,
Though his eyes burn with heat
Through gazing on my sweet,
Yet no man knows.
Only this thing is said;
That white and gold and red,
God’s three chief words, man’s bread
And oil and wine,
Were given her for dowers,
And kingdom of all hours,
And grace of goodly flowers
And various vine.
This is my lady’s praise:
God after many days
Wrought her in unknown ways,
In sunset lands;
This was my lady’s birth;
God gave her might and mirth
And laid his whole sweet earth
Between her hands.
Under deep apple-boughs
My lady hath her house;
She wears upon her brows
The flower thereof;
All saying but what God saith
To her is as vain breath;
She is more strong than death,
Being strong as love.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sir Gawaine And The Green Knight
Reptilian green the wrinkled throat,
Green as a bough of yew the beard;
He bent his head, and so I smote;
Then for a thought my vision cleared.
The head dropped clean; he rose and walked;
He fixed his fingers in the hair;
The head was unabashed and talked;
I understood what I must dare.
His flesh, cut down, arose and grew.
He bade me wait the season’s round,
And then, when he had strength anew,
To meet him on his native ground.
The year declined; and in his keep
I passed in joy a thriving yule;
And whether waking or in sleep,
I lived in riot like a fool.
He beat the woods to bring me meat.
His lady, like a forest vine,
Grew in my arms; the growth was sweet;
And yet what thoughtless force was mine!
By practice and conviction formed,
With ancient stubbornness ingrained,
Although her body clung and swarmed,
My own identity remained.
Her beauty, lithe, unholy, pure,
Took shapes that I had never known;
And had I once been insecure,
Had grafted laurel in my bone.
And then, since I had kept the trust,
Had loved the lady, yet was true,
The knight withheld his giant thrust
And let me go with what I knew.
I left the green bark and the shade,
Where growth was rapid, thick, and still;
I found a road that men had made
And rested on a drying hill.
poem by Yvor Winters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Genesis
In the outer world that was before this earth,
That was before all shape or space was born,
Before the blind first hour of time had birth,
Before night knew the moonlight or the morn;
Yea, before any world had any light,
Or anything called God or man drew breath,
Slowly the strong sides of the heaving night
Moved, and brought forth the strength of life and death.
And the sad shapeless horror increate
That was all things and one thing, without fruit,
Limit, or law; where love was none, nor hate,
Where no leaf came to blossom from no root;
The very darkness that time knew not of,
Nor God laid hand on, nor was man found there,
Ceased, and was cloven in several shapes; above
Light, and night under, and fire, earth, water, and air.
Sunbeams and starbeams, and all coloured things,
All forms and all similitudes began;
And death, the shadow cast by life's wide wings,
And God, the shade cast by the soul of man.
Then between shadow and substance, night and light,
Then between birth and death, and deeds and days,
The illimitable embrace and the amorous fight
That of itself begets, bears, rears, and slays,
The immortal war of mortal things that is
Labour and life and growth and good and ill,
The mild antiphonies that melt and kiss,
The violent symphonies that meet and kill,
All nature of all things began to be.
But chiefliest in the spirit (beast or man,
Planet of heaven or blossom of earth or sea)
The divine contraries of life began.
For the great labour of growth, being many, is one;
One thing the white death and the ruddy birth;
The invisible air and the all-beholden sun,
And barren water and many-childed earth.
And these things are made manifest in men
From the beginning forth unto this day:
Time writes and life records them, and again
Death seals them lest the record pass away.
For if death were not, then should growth not be,
Change, nor the life of good nor evil things;
Nor were there night at all nor light to see,
Nor water of sweet nor water of bitter springs.
For in each man and each year that is born
Are sown the twin seeds of the strong twin powers;
The white seed of the fruitful helpful morn,
The black seed of the barren hurtful hours.
And he that of the black seed eateth fruit,
To him the savour as honey shall be sweet;
And he in whom the white seed hath struck root,
He shall have sorrow and trouble and tears for meat.
And him whose lips the sweet fruit hath made red
In the end men loathe and make his name a rod;
And him whose mouth on the unsweet fruit hath fed
In the end men follow and know for very God.
And of these twain, the black seed and the white,
All things come forth, endured of men and done;
And still the day is great with child of night,
And still the black night labours with the sun.
And each man and each year that lives on earth
Turns hither or thither, and hence or thence is fed;
And as a man before was from his birth,
So shall a man be after among the dead.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!