Sonnet XXXI: Her Gifts
High grace, the dower of queens; and therewithal
Some wood-born wonder's sweet simplicity;
A glance like water brimming with the sky
Or hyacinth-light where forest-shadows fall;
Such thrilling pallor of cheek as doth enthral
The heart; a mouth whose passionate forms imply
All music and all silence held thereby;
Deep golden locks, her sovereign coronal;
A round reared neck, meet column of Love's shrine
To cling to when the heart takes sanctuary;
Hands which for ever at Love's bidding be,
And soft-stirred feet still answering to his sign:—
These are her gifts, as tongue may tell them o'er.
Breathe low her name, my soul; for that means more.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
An April Day
When the warm sun, that brings
Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,
'T is sweet to visit the still wood, where springs
The first flower of the plain.
I love the season well,
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms,
Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell
The coming-on of storms.
From the earth's loosened mould
The sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives;
Though stricken to the heart with winter's cold,
The drooping tree revives.
The softly-warbled song
Comes from the pleasant woods, and colored wings
Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along
The forest openings.
When the bright sunset fills
The silver woods with light, the green slope throws
Its shadows in the hollows of the hills,
And wide the upland glows.
And when the eve is born,
In the blue lake the sky, o'er-reaching far,
Is hollowed out and the moon dips her horn,
And twinkles many a star.
Inverted in the tide
Stand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows throw,
And the fair trees look over, side by side,
And see themselves below.
Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
Life's golden fruit is shed.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Earlier Poems : An April Day
When the warm sun, that brings
Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,
'T is sweet to visit the still wood, where springs
The first flower of the plain.
I love the season well,
When forest glades are teeming with bright forms,
Nor dark and many-folded clouds foretell
The coming-on of storms.
From the earth's loosened mould
The sapling draws its sustenance, and thrives;
Though stricken to the heart with winter's cold,
The drooping tree revives.
The softly-warbled song
Comes from the pleasant woods, and colored wings
Glance quick in the bright sun, that moves along
The forest openings.
When the bright sunset fills
The silver woods with light, the green slope throws
Its shadows in the hollows of the hills,
And wide the upland glows.
And when the eve is born,
In the blue lake the sky, o'er-reaching far,
Is hollowed out and the moon dips her horn,
And twinkles many a star.
Inverted in the tide
Stand the gray rocks, and trembling shadows throw,
And the fair trees look over, side by side,
And see themselves below.
Sweet April! many a thought
Is wedded unto thee, as hearts are wed;
Nor shall they fail, till, to its autumn brought,
Life's golden fruit is shed.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As Night Descends
The night descends,
The light mixing dark, together they blend,
Shadows pounce upon the light,
Forever turning daylight, into night.
Shadows toy and play,
They own the night... Now they shall seize the day,
They sit upon the earth, and watch light decay,
Illuminated light fragments,
like dust they float, Then fall away,
I shall sit with these shadows,
and enjoy corrupt fun,
watch the light fall, as the shadows have won.
My family of shadows, humble yet dark,
always living in turmoil, killing the light, fading the last spark.
The light is no more, we've won....
these wrongs can never be undone.
poem by Crimson Love
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Firelight and Nightfall
The darkness steals the forms of all the queens,
But oh, the palms of his two black hands are red,
Inflamed with binding up the sheaves of dead
Hours that were once all glory and all queens.
And I remember all the sunny hours
Of queens in hyacinth and skies of gold,
And morning singing where the woods are scrolled
And diapered above the chaunting flowers.
Here lamps are white like snowdrops in the grass;
The town is like a churchyard, all so still
And grey now night is here; nor will
Another torn red sunset come to pass.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Land where I was Born
HAVE you ever been down to my countree
Where the trees are green and tall?
The days are long and the heavens are high,
But the people there are small.
There is no work there; it is always play;
The sun is sweet in the morn;
But a thousand dark things walk at night
In the land where I was born.
Have you ever been down to my countree
Where the birds made happy Spring?
The parrots screamed from the honey-trees,
And the jays hopped chattering.
Strange were the ways of the water-birds
In the brown swamps, night and morn;
I knew the roads they had in the reeds
In the land where I was born.
Have you ever been down to my countree?
Have you ridden the horses there?
They had silver manes, and we made them prance
And plunge and gallop and rear.
We were knights of the olden time,
When the old chain-mail was worn:
The swords would flash and the helmets crash
In the land where I was born.
Have you ever been down to my countree?
It was full of smiling queens:
They had flaxen hair, they were white and fair,
But they never reached their teens.
Their shoes were small and their dreams were tall:
Wonderful frocks were worn;
But the queens all strayed from the place we played,
In the land where I was born.
I know you have been to my countree
Though I never saw you there;
I know you have loved all things I have loved,
Flowery, sweet, and fair.
The days were long,—it was always play;
But we,—we were tired and worn;
They could not welcome us back again
To the land where I was born.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Shade Of The Green Wood
In the shade of the green wood
The holly does grow,
While in soft rays of sunlight
The wild roses glow,
And I smell their sweet perfume
That gently floats by,
Past trees strong and mighty
That reach to the sky,
The pathway of gold autumn
Leaves still remain,
As I walk through the green wood again.
In the shade of the green wood
This bright sunny morn,
That's so cool in the shadows
A new day is born,
All the birds in the treetops
Are singing for me,
Sweet songs of the summer
Which fill me with glee,
And know from its beauty
I never shall part,
For the green wood does live in my heart.
In the shade of the green wood
A soft gentle breeze,
Now caresses the branches
And whispers through trees,
A sound reassuring
Shall carry me to,
All the scenes that exist
In each marvellous view,
It's here that my spirit
Shall always now stay,
And the green wood is guiding my way.
poem by Andrew Blakemore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wasnt Born To Follow
(gerry goffin / carole king)
Though Id rather go and journey
Where the diamond crescents glowing
Run across the valleys
Beneath the sacred mountain
And wander through the forest
Where the trees of leaves are prisms
That break the light of day into colours
That no-one knows the names of
And when its time
I go and wait beside
A legendary fountain
til I see your form reflected
In its clear and jewelled water
And if you think Im ready
You may lead me to the chasm
Where the rivers of our vision
Flow into one another
And Ill stay awhile
And wonder at
The myths that theyve created
And lose myself within it
Cleanse my mind and body
And I know at the moment
As I stand in that cathedral
I will want to dive in
The white cascading water, water, water
He may beg
And he may plead
He may argue with his logic
He can mention all the things Ill lose
That really have no value
Though I doubt that he will ever come
To understand my meaning
In the end hell surely know
I was not born to follow
I was not born to follow
I wasnt born to follow, no, no
I wasnt born to follow
I wasnt born to follow, no, no
I wasnt born to follow
I wasnt born to follow
Said i......
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Forest
The edge of the forest stands
Against the grey, white sky
Like a row of colourless headstones
Stripped trees emerge
Tombs of a bleak winter
Silhouetted in the dull light
Against the imaginings of man
No light or life escapes
The depths of the forest
The thoughts which swell there
Creates in them a fear
Some great sadness hidden
Branches reach out like clawed hands
Pointing into a nothingness
Or grabbing, pulling inwards
To the shadows and the darkness
Of the deathly forest floor
The silence that awaits
Far beneath the grey, white sky
The morning becomes forgotten
Beyond the edge of the forest
Where shadows hide
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Truth I Weep
wondering in the maze of life
somewhere i stopped on a hyacinth
O' my hyacinth
picking it in my hands
the fragrance though spread
overwhelmed in the perfume of it
i wanted to admit
the beauty of love i had for it
with a pricking pain
i saw the thorns
never with a hyacinth
but there were they
to grin was my compulsion
to laugh was the only way
to not let the heart break
i know the pain
but cant let you suffer
O' my hyacinth
cant let you suffer
cant let you suffer
poem by Gule Rukhsar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dream Spot
Icy water and dense fog
Mostly boating – no swimming
Okay to read by the log
Or close your eyes while dreaming
Nice retirement dream spot
In the thick wooded forest
Boasting over fish just caught
Whether richest or poorest
One cold night telling stories
Chewing toasted marshmallows
Right under the galaxies
With rainbows and dark shadows
Rumors and speculation
Not in this trance paradise
No misinterpretation
Just water and fertilize
Log cabin cozy and nice
Wood burning fireplace blazing
Wouldn’t you say that will suffice?
Clear in the crystal grazing
Watch the blossoms with delight
Enchanting sweet aroma
Nature calling day and night
Bountiful Oklahoma
poem by Ana Monnar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Fall Of Grace
Sometimes the world turns on you
Waters ravage your lonely shore
The sky offers no remorse
Beyond the abysmal pale
And God is nowhere to be found
No ones around to hear your cries
Cast your stone into the ocean
Fill your heart with silver and gold
Dear Light, hold me close
Fly away with my heart
Ill cross the roads
That you've paved for me
But I cannot find peace
In this fall of grace
My eyes are dry from the tears
I've seen the demons take away
All that has been gained
Let the water flow inside
An end to the sorrow
That plagues the frail strings
On the instrument of life
Soon screams will follow in the wind
Dear Light, won't you take my hand
Replace the death in my soul
Let the water bleed out
Dear Light, won't you lay me down
Cover me in sticks and stones
Crush my brittle bones
Dear Light, you let me fall
In this hollow disgrace
Let the tears run down my face
Dear Light, you are the downfall of my grace
poem by Matthew Peel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inside The Cave
we are witness to the shadows in the cave.
Not to be mislead we touch each others' hands.
When we open our eyes we become more confused.
There are more shadows born when we begin to speak.
We are always patient. We imagine soon, always, the
soon in the shadows. Light created more shadows.
We fear it sometimes. We begin to mistrust it.
We are still inside this cave with all the shadows
of ourselves. We do not like to move, we are mocked
We are imitated by our shadows inside the cave.
Tomorrow is the exit. We become friends of the Light.
Then we become free.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In the Dark Pine-Wood
In the dark pine-wood
I would we lay,
In deep cool shadow
At noon of day.
How sweet to lie there,
Sweet to kiss,
Where the great pine-forest
Enaisled is!
Thy kiss descending
Sweeter were
With a soft tumult
Of thy hair.
O unto the pine-wood
At noon of day
Come with me now,
Sweet love, away.
poem by James Joyce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Morning
Where am I going? I don't quite know.
Down to the stream where the king-cups grow-
Up on the hill where the pine-trees blow-
Anywhere, anywhere. I don't know.
Where am I going? The clouds sail by,
Little ones, baby ones, over the sky.
Where am I going? The shadows pass,
Little ones, baby ones, over the grass.
If you were a cloud, and sailed up there,
You'd sail on water as blue as air,
And you'd see me here in the fields and say:
'Doesn't the sky look green today?'
Where am I going? The high rooks call:
'It's awful fun to be born at all.'
Where am I going? The ring-doves coo:
'We do have beautiful things to do.'
If you were a bird, and lived on high,
You'd lean on the wind when the wind came by,
You'd say to the wind when it took you away:
'That's where I wanted to go today!'
Where am I going? I don't quite know.
What does it matter where people go?
Down to the wood where the blue-bells grow-
Anywhere, anywhere. I don't know.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unless
Who has not wanted, does not guess
What plenty is.--Who has not groped
In depths of doubt and hopelessness,
Has never truly hoped.--
Unless, sometimes, a shaow falls
Upon his mirth, and veils his sight,
And from the darkness drifts the light
Of love at intervals.
And that most dear of everything,
I hold, is love; and who can sit
With lightest heart and laugh and sing,
Knows not the worth of it.--
Unless, in some strange throng, perchance,
He feels how thrilling sweet it is,
One yearning look that answers his --
The troth of glance and glance.
Who knows not pain, knows not, alas!
What pleasure is.--Who knows not of
The bitter cup that will not pass,
Knows not the taste of love.
O souls that thirst, and hearts that fast,
And natures faint with famishing,
God lift and lead and safely bring
You to your own at last!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sargent's Portrait of Edwin Booth
That face which no man ever saw
And from his memory banished quite,
With eyes in which are Hamlet's awe
And Cardinal Richelieu's subtle light,
Looks from this frame. A master's hand
Has set the master player here,
In the fair temple that he planned
Not for himself. To us most dear
This image of him! "It was thus
He looked; such pallor touched his cheek;
With that same grace he greeted us--
Nay, 't is the man, could it but speak!"
Sad words that shall be said some day--
Far fall the day! O cruel Time,
Whose breath sweeps mortal things away,
Spare long this image of his prime,
That others standing in the place
Where, save as ghosts, we come no more,
May know what sweet majestic face
The gentle Prince of Players wore!
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ballatetta
The light became her grace and dwelt among
Blind eyes and shadows that are formed as men;
Lo, how the light doth melt us into song:
The broken sunlight for a healm she beareth
Who hath my heart in jurisdiction.
In wild-wood never fawn nor fallow fareth
So silent light; no gossamer is spun
So delicate as she is, when the sun
Drives the clear emeralds from the bended grasses
Lest they should parch too swiftly, where she passes.
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Cage
In the waking night
The forests have stopped growing
The shells are listening
The shadows in the pools turn grey
The pearls dissolve in the shadow
And I return to you
Your face is marked upon the clockface,
My hands are beneath your hair
And if the time you mark sets free the birds
And if they fly away towards the forest
The hour will no longer be ours
Ours is the ornate birdcage
The brimming cup of water
The preface to the book
And all the clocks are ticking
All the dark rooms are moving
All the air's nerves are bare.
Once flown
The feathered hour will not return
And I shall have gone away.
poem by David Gascoyne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lover's Gifts XXII: I Shall Gladly Suffer
I shall gladly suffer the pride of culture to die out in my house,
if only in some happy future I am born a herd-boy in the Brinda
forest.
The herd-boy who grazes his cattle sitting under the banyan
tree, and idly weaves gunja flowers into garlands, who loves to
splash and plunge in the Jamuna's cool deep stream.
He calls his companions to wake up when morning dawns, and all
the houses in the lane hum with the sound of the churn, clouds of
dust are raised by the cattle, the maidens come out in the
courtyard to milk the king.
As the shadows deepen under the tomal trees, and the dusk
gathers on the river-banks; when the milkmaids, while crossing the
turbulent water, tremble with fear; and loud peacocks, with tails
outspread, dance in the forest, he watchers the summer clouds.
When the April night is sweet as a fresh-blown flower, he
disappears in the forest with a peacock's plume in his hair; the
swing ropes are twined with flowers on the branches; the south wind
throbs with music, and the merry shepherd boys crowd on the banks
of the blue river.
No, I will never be the leader, brothers, of this new age of
new Bengal; I shall not trouble to light the lamp of culture for
the benighted. If only I could be born, under the shady asoka
groves, in some village of Brinda, where milk is churned by the
maidens!
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Saving Grace
Without direction I walk the night
I was alone in a single beam of light
One glance and you changed my blues
To a prism of light
A thousand hues
Now I must climb to the rainbows arc
Who knows I might find a halo for your heart
Whenever I'm lost for words
And my whole world is falling apart
You are my saving grace
You are the light of a love everlasting
I find hiding place
In your arms
My one and only
Saving grace
My saving grace
I fought the world with a restless heart
Kept my emotions locked away in the dark
Then you came to build me up
When this world could only tear me apart
You are my saving grace
You are the light of a love everlasting
And I find hiding place in your arms
My one and only
Saving grace
For the rest of your life
You can count on me
To never let you down
When you whisper to me
You give me strength to believe that I can hold on
Somehow
You are my saving grace
You are the light of a love everlasting
I find a hiding place
In your arms
My one and only
Saving grace
You are my light and my love everlasting
And I find a hiding place
In your arms
My one and only
Saving grace
My saving grace....
My saving grace
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!