Sweet Springtime
It was in the prime
Of the sweet springtime
In the linnet's throat
Trembled the love note,
And the love-stirred air
Thrilled the blossoms there.
Little shadows danced,
Each a tiny elf
Happy in large light
And the thinnest self.
It was but a minute
In a far-off spring,
But each gentle thing,
Sweetly wooing linnet,
Soft thrilled hawthorn tree,
Happy shadowy elf,
With the thinnest self,
Live on still in me.
It was in the prime
Of the past springtime!
poem by George Eliot
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Springtime Love # 2
Cold winds of winter
have blown far away-
Springtime is now time
and love is today.
Springtime is our time
when mating birds sing-
Our time is love time
and love time is spring
Springtime-
Once in a lifetime
spring comes,
blossoms and then
springtime
moves on forever.
No second spring again.
Kisses and blossoms
and sweet birds of May,
they're to remember
when spring slips away.
poem by Daniel Artemas Harmon
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Sing Something That's Happy
Do not sing me a song that will bring me to tears
That will make me nostalgic for the long gone years
My prime years of life I don't wish to recall
Sing something that's happy or nothing at all
Though few things in life ever does seem to last
The past has gone forever why sing of the past
To the father of time we are destined to bow
But I want to be happy and live in the now
In a decade from now I will be an old man
But I want to be happy for as long as I can
Sing something that's joyful and merry and light
I do want to laugh and be happy tonight
The sweet sound of laughter is a joyous thing
Do sing something that's happy if you wish to sing.
poem by Francis Duggan
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This Time Is My Time
This time is my time to think about the spring
and all those little bluebirds that have a song to sing.
And when my thoughts are on them
my heart is singing too, singing like a fool
that's so in love, so in love with you.
This time is my time to take it in my stride
and show the world I love you and never let it hide.
Let all the springtime flowers make me feel like them,
blushing with rosy red colors over and over again.
There won't be another time like this.
I can't let it pass me by.
For when the springtime's here again
if you're not here I'll cry.
Now this time is my time to think about the past
when all those little bluebirds flew
'cause springtime doesn't last.
Then sadly I'll remember when I had to say
good bye to love, goodbye to you
'cause my time went away.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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World Teacher
A drum A drum
He comes
There comes the world teacher
Every blade of grass is thrilled
Every dust particle is thrilled
Every direction East West North South
Is happy though in sadness
They are happy
Because he will teach us sanity
They are sad because they know beforehand
That the son of Love and Light
Will once again bleed
He will find life in death
And the world will learn
That a battle is not lost
Until and unless it is lost
poem by Dr. Ramesh Chandra Mukhopadhyaya
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First Day Of Spring
I know today's the first of spring.
I wonder what the spring will bring?
I know it will bring blooming trees
and pollen that will make some sneeze.
I know it will bring lots of flowers
to stir our senses and feelings for hours.
I know it will make the earth come alive
and bees and wasps building a hive.
I know it will start the ritual of love
and an increase of cloudless skies above.
I know it will bring springtime rain
that will end with rainbows that can't remain.
I know it will make me happy to see
the warmer days and tranquil sea.
What I don't know is what I will do
if springtime wishes don't come true?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Two Lovers
Two lovers by a moss-grown spring:
They leaned soft cheeks together there,
Mingled the dark and sunny hair,
And heard the wooing thrushes sing.
O budding time!
O love's blest prime!
Two wedded from the portal stept:
The bells made happy carolings,
The air was soft as fanning wings,
White petals on the pathway slept.
O pure-eyed bride!
O tender pride!
Two faces o'er a cradle bent:
Two hands above the head were locked:
These pressed each other while they rocked,
Those watched a life that love had sent.
O solemn hour!
O hidden power!
Two parents by the evening fire:
The red light fell about their knees
On heads that rose by slow degrees
Like buds upon the lily spire.
O patient life!
O tender strife!
The two still sat together there,
The red light shone about their knees;
But all the heads by slow degrees
Had gone and left that lonely pair.
O voyage fast!
O vanished past!
The red light shone upon the floor
And made the space between them wide;
They drew their chairs up side by side,
Their pale cheeks joined, and said, "Once more!"
O memories!
O past that is!
poem by George Eliot
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To H.a.b. On My Forty-seventh Birthday
WHEN one is forty years and seven,
Is seven and forty sad years old,
He looks not onward for his Heaven,
The future is too blank and cold,
Its pale flowers smell of graveyard mould;
He looks back to his lifeful past;
If age is silver, youth is gold:-
Could youth but last, could youth but last!
He turns back toward his youthful past
A-throb with life and love and hope,
Whose long-dead joys in memory last,
Whose shining days had ample scope;
He turns and lingers on the slope
Whose dusk leads down to sightless death:-
The sun once crowned that darkening cope,
And song once thrilled this weary breath.
Ali, he plods wearily to death,
Adown the gloaming into night,
But other lives breathe joyous breath
In morning's boundless golden light;
Their feet are swift, their eyes are bright,
Their hearts beat rhythms of hope and love,
Their being is a pure delight
In earth below and heaven above.
And you have hope and joy and love,
And you have youth's abounding life,
Whose crystal currents flow above
The stones and sands of care and strife.
May all your years with joys be rifc,
May you grow calmly to your prime,
A maiden sweet, a cherished wife,
A happy mother in due time.
All good you wish me, past my prime,
I wish with better hope to you,
And richer blessings than old Time
And Fate or Fortune found my due:
For you are kind and good and true,
And so when you are forty-seven
May spouse and children in your view
Make Home the happiest life-long Heaven.
poem by James Thomson
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The Happy Bird’s Nest
When on my cottage falls the placid shower,
When ev'ning calls the labourer home to rest,
When glad the bee deserts the humid flower,
O then the bird assumes her peaceful nest.
When sable shadows grow unshapely tall,
And Sol's resplendent wheel descends the west,
The knell of respiration tolls for all,
And Hesper smiles upon the linnet's nest.
When o'er the mountain bounds the fair gazell,
The night bird tells her day-departing jest,
She gladly leaves her melancholy dell,
And spreads her pinions o'er the linnet's nest.
Then harmless Dian spreads her lucid sail,
And glides through ether with her silver crest,
Bidding the watchful bird still pour her tale,
And cheer the happy linnet on her nest.
Thus may some guardian angel bear her light,
And o'er thy tomb, departed genius, rest,
Whilst thou shalt take thy long eternal flight,
And leave some faithful bird to guard thy nest.
poem by George Moses Horton
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A Missing Spring
I know that the spring will be here soon
and the flowers will start to bloom.
What I do not know is when it comes
will it take me out of this gloom?
I live with the days that still are cold
and rub my hands together.
I'm tired of waiting for warm spring days
and worrying about the weather.
But what if spring does come this year
and I don't see your face?
Then springtime might as well stay away
for it can never replace
the absence of you and how I feel
and all the flowers will only steal
the warmth of my springtime day.
So the winter might as well stay.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Spring Time Is Coming
Beautiful Spring is coming,
Ah, yes, will soon be here,
For the clear bright sun is shining
All human hearts to cheer.
One the brightest gems of nature
Is the orb that o'er us shines,
And o'er the wide creation,
It'll shine to the end of time.
The birds will soon be singing
On shrub and bough of trees,
Their notes will soon be ringing
Out, forth so merrily.
They love the merry spring time,
Those little birds we love,
They love the pleasant sunshine
That comes down from above.
We can hear them sweetly singing
From early morn, till night.
They make music in the woodland
Those little birds; so bright,
We should dearly love them,
Those little harmless things,
And when we hear their music,
We know that it is spring.
Ah; it's pleasant in the springtime,
All nature seems so gay.
Bright flowers in the sunshine,
Sweet fragrance can display.
The hills, and dales, and meadows,
So beautifully covered o'er;
With natures richest verdure,
The green grass, as of yore.
The winter will soon be over,
With its cold and chilly winds.
It is sad and dreary ever,
Yet its dying, free from sin.
Now the springtime is coming,
Ah, yes, will soon be here.
We will welcome in its coming
In this glad new year.
poem by Julia A Moore
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A Paraphrase Of Heine
(LYRIC INTERMEZZO)
There fell a star from realms above--
A glittering, glorious star to see!
Methought it was the star of love,
So sweetly it illumined me.
And from the apple branches fell
Blossoms and leaves that time in June;
The wanton breezes wooed them well
With soft caress and amorous tune.
The white swan proudly sailed along
And vied her beauty with her note--
The river, jealous of her song,
Threw up its arms to clasp her throat.
But now--oh, now the dream is past--
The blossoms and the leaves are dead,
The swan's sweet song is hushed at last,
And not a star burns overhead.
poem by Eugene Field
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In Drear-Nighted December
IN drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy tree,
Thy branches ne'er remember
Their green felicity:
The north cannot undo them
With a sleety whistle through them;
Nor frozen thawings glue them
From budding at the prime.
In drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy brook,
Thy bubblings ne'er remember
Apollo's summer look;
But with a sweet forgetting,
They stay their crystal fretting,
Never, never petting
About the frozen time.
Ah! would 'twere so with many
A gentle girl and boy!
But were there ever any
Writhed not at passed joy?
The feel of not to feel it,
When there is none to heal it
Nor numbed sense to steel it,
Was never said in rhyme.
poem by John Keats
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Stanzas. In A Drear-Nighted December
1.
In drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy tree,
Thy branches ne'er remember
Their green felicity:
The north cannot undo them
With a sleety whistle through them;
Nor frozen thawings glue them
From budding at the prime.
2.
In drear-nighted December,
Too happy, happy brook,
Thy bubblings ne'er remember
Apollo's summer look;
But with a sweet forgetting,
They stay their crystal fretting,
Never, never petting
About the frozen time.
3.
Ah! would 'twere so with many
A gentle girl and boy!
But were there ever any
Writhed not at passed joy?
The feel of not to feel it,
When there is none to heal it
Nor numbed sense to steel it,
Was never said in rhyme.
poem by John Keats
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Happy To Give
I was born a believer, played the fool
Lonely dreamer, left to choose
I dont know where the love is, theres a promise undone
Someones cryin, in a room all alone
Shadows fall, after the hurt is gone
Through it all, we love and we lose
Where is the one, someone whos happy (happy to give)
Happy to be with you, its here you belong, with someone
Whos happy (happy to give) happy to give you love
A song for the singer, one book of dreams
Take this heartache, away from me
A page in a story, romance untold
Sharing secrets, we call, our own
Shadows fall, after the hurt is gone
Through it all, we love and we lose
Where is the one, someone whos happy (happy to give)
Happy to be with you, its where you belong, with someone
Whos happy (happy to give) happy to give you love
Happy, happy, oh happy
(happy to give), oo happy to give
Oh somebodys happy to give you love,
Your love, your love oh yeah
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Having Myself A Time
Leo Robin / Ralph Rainger
I'm having myself a time
I mean I'm having what I want
Wanting what I have
Doing what I like
And liking what I do
And I'm having myself a time
I never could save a dime
And so I'm living like a lord
Acting like, a loon
Lying in the sun
And sighing in the moon
And I'm having myself a lime
When I hum songs
They're all dumb songs
Without reason nor rhyme
But I'm certainly in my prime
I friean I'm happy as a bird, flying up above
Walk a little love and get a little love
And I'm having myself a time
But I'm certainly in my prime
I mean I'm happy as a bird, flying up above
Walk a little love and get a little love
And I'm having myself a time
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Havin Myself A Time
Leo robin / ralph rainger
Im having myself a time
I mean Im having what I want
Wanting what I have
Doing what I like
And liking what I do
And Im having myself a time
I never could save a dime
And so Im living like a lord
Acting like, a loon
Lying in the sun
And sighing in the moon
And Im having myself a lime
When I hum songs
Theyre all dumb songs
Without reason nor rhyme
But Im certainly in my prime
I friean Im happy as a bird, flying up above
Walk a little love and get a little love
And Im having myself a time
But Im certainly in my prime
I mean Im happy as a bird, flying up above
Walk a little love and get a little love
And Im having myself a time
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Linnet In A Gilded Cage
A linnet in a gilded cage, -
A linnet on a bough, -
In frosty winter one might doubt
Which bird is luckier now.
But let the trees burst out in leaf,
And nests be on the bough,
Which linnet is the luckier bird,
Oh who could doubt it now?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Spring Of Change
This springtime
let the spring of change
come into your life.
Say goodbye
to your loneliness
and open your heart for new joys
that this springtime brings.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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Love Is Like A Butterfly
Love is like a butterfly
As soft and gentle as a sigh
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
I feel it when youre with me
It happens when you kiss me
That rare and gentle feeling that I feel inside
Your touch is soft and gentle
Your kiss is warm and tender
Whenever I am with you I think of butterflies
Love is like a butterfly
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
Your laughter brings me sunshine
Everyday is spring time
And I am only happy when you are by my side
How precious is this love we share
How very precious, sweet and rare
Together we belong like daffodils and butterflies
Love is like a butterfly
As soft and gentle as a sigh
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song—The Winter it is Past
The winter it is past, and the summer comes at last
And the small birds, they sing on ev’ry tree;
Now ev’ry thing is glad, while I am very sad,
Since my true love is parted from me.
The rose upon the breer, by the waters running clear,
May have charms for the linnet or the bee;
Their little loves are blest, and their little hearts at rest,
But my true love is parted from me.
poem by Robert Burns
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