Christmas Roses
THE summer roses all are gone--
Dead, laid in shroud of rain-wet mould;
And passion's lightning time is done,
And Love is laid out white and cold.
Summer and youth for us are dead,
What do old age and winter bring instead?
They bring us memories of old years,
And Christmas roses, cold and sweet,
Which, washed by not unhappy tears,
I bring and lay beside your feet,
With gifts that come with flowers like these--
Friendship, remembrance of our past, and peace!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Cadences
I
(MINOR)
THE ANCIENT memories buried lie,
And the olden fancies pass;
The old sweet flower-thoughts wither and fly,
And die as the April cowslips die,
That scatter the bloomy grass.
All dead, my dear! And the flowers are dead,
And the happy blossoming spring;
The winter comes with its iron tread,
The fields with the dying sun are red,
And the birds have ceas’d to sing.
I trace the steps on the wasted strand
Of the vanish’d springtime’s feet:
Wither’d and dead is our Fairyland,
For Love and Death go hand in hand
Go hand in hand, my sweet!
II
(MAJOR)
OH, what shall be the burden of our rhyme,
And what shall be our ditty when the blossom’s on the lime?
Our lips have fed on winter and on weariness too long:
We will hail the royal summer with a golden-footed song!
O lady of my summer and my spring,
We shall hear the blackbird whistle and the brown sweet throstle sing,
And the low clear noise of waters running softly by our feet,
When the sights and sounds of summer in the green clear fields are sweet.
We shall see the roses blowing in the green,
The pink-lipp’d roses kissing in the golden summer sheen;
We shall see the fields flower thick with stars and bells of summer gold,
And the poppies burn out red and sweet across the corn-crown’d wold.
The time shall be for pleasure, not for pain;
There shall come no ghost of grieving for the past betwixt us twain;
But in the time of roses our lives shall grow together,
And our love be as the love of gods in the blue Olympic weather.
poem by John Howard Payne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Loss
IN the world was one green nook I knew,
Full of roses, roses red and white,
Reddest roses summer ever grew,
Whitest roses ever pearled with dew;
And their sweetness was beyond delight,
Was all love's delight.
Wheresoever in the world I went,
Roses were; for in my heart I took
Blow and blossom and bewildering scent;
Roses never with the summer spent,
Roses always ripening in that nook,
Love's far summer nook.
In the world a soddened plot I know
Blackening in this chill and misty air,
Set with shivering bushes in a row,
One by one the last leaves letting go:
Wheresoe'er I turn I shall be there,
Always sighing there.
Ah, my folly! Ah, my loss, my pain!
Dead, my roses that can blow no more!
Wherefore looked I on our nook again?
Wherefore went I after autumn's rain,
Where the summer roses bloomed before,
Bloomed so sweet before?
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hope against hope
Hope against all hope
That times will change
A word lingers
In time and place
Softly spoken
Memories bring joy
Memories bring tears
Hope against hope
That love will grow
From the embers
A single spark
Lights the fire again
Memories bring joy
Memories bring tears
Hope against hope
Time will soften
A hardened heart
A fractured mind
Bring peace to soul
Memories bring joy
Memories bring tears
Hope against hope
That this is a dream
I will wake soon
Covered in sweat
Breathing once again
Memories bring joy
Memories bring tears
Hope against hope
That tomorrow is different
Today didn't happen
But it did
Can't change today
Memories bring tears
Song. O spirit Of The Summer-time!
O spirit of the Summer-time!
Bring back the roses to the dells;
The swallow from her distant clime,
The honey-bee from drowsy cells.
Bring back the friendship of the sun;
The gilded evenings calm and late,
When weary children homeward run,
And peeping stars bid lovers wait.
Bring back the singing; and the scent
Of meadow-lands at dewy prime;
Oh, bring again my heart's content,
Thou Spirit of the Summer-time!
poem by William Allingham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
These Little Ones
'What of the garden I gave?'
God said to me;
'Hast thou been diligent to foster and save
The life of flower and tree?
How have the roses thriven,
The lilies I have given,
The pretty scented miracles that Spring
And Summer come to bring?
'My garden is fair and dear,'
I said to God;
'From thorns and nettles I have kept it clear.
Green-trimmed its sod.
The rose is red and bright,
The lily a live delight;
I have not lost a flower of all the flowers
That blessed my hours.'
'What of the child I gave?'
God said to me;
'The little, little one I died to save
And gave in trust to thee?
How have the flowers grown
That in its soul were sown,
The lovely living miracles of youth
And hope and joy and truth?'
'The child's face is all white,'
I said to God;
'It cries for cold and hunger in the night:
Its little feet have trod
The pavement muddy and cold.
It has no flowers to hold,
And in its soul the flowers you set are dead.'
'Thou fool!' God said.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Garden Of Roses
My garden of roses is dead
All the most beautiful flowers have wilted
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Like my love and my nurturing was nothing
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Nothing but dust in the wind is left
And now the winter is here
My garden of roses is dead
Everything's gone and I feel so empty
And now the winter is here
poem by Triin Kann
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cold Chill
Feelin young and full of fun
Hangin out with my crew
Hot to trot and about to pop
Tryin to find some girl to get into
There she was fine as can be
Hair braided down to her knees
She took me home, she turned me out
But before sunrise she said I must leave
It was a cold chill on a summer night
Never thought the girlie wouldnt treat me right
It was a cold chill on a summer day
Never thought the girl would dog me out that way
It was a cold chill on a summer morn
Never cried like a baby since the day I was born
It was a cold chill on a summer eve
Never had no chopper bring me to my knees
I was feeling so trusting
Gave it all right down to the bone
But she did me wrong
On a summer night
Far from meek, and feelin chic
Refusing to concede defeat
There I was same crew, same time
Same club we kicked it at the previous week
I asked her how could she have the nerve
To treat me with such disgrace
She blinked her eyes, smiled, apologized
Threw her drink right in my face
It was a cold chill on a summer night
Never thought the girlie wouldnt treat me right
It was a cold chill on a summer day
Never thought the girl would dog me out that way
It was a cold chill on a summer morn
Never cried like a baby since the day I was born
It was a cold chill on a summer eve
Never had no chopper bring me to my knees
I was feeling so trusting
Gave it all right down to the bone
But she did me wrong
On a summer night, on a summer night
On a summer night, on a summer night
A cold chill, a cold chill, a cold chill, cold chill
Weekends came and weekends passed
But not the yearning in my heart
And there she was to light the spark
Like she did right from the very start
I took no time, drove to her house
Got deep into a passion high
I heard a knock, the turn of a key
And the voice of another guy
It was a cold chill on a summer night
Never thought the girlie wouldnt treat me right
It was a cold chill on a summer day
Never thought the girl would dog me out that way
It was a cold chill on a summer morn
Never cried like a baby since the day I was born
It was a cold chill on a summer eve
Never had no chopper bring me to my knees
I was feeling so trusting
Gave it all right down to the bone
But she did me wrong
On a summer night, on a summer night
On a summer night, on a summer night
It was a cold chill
Like standing in the deep freeze
A cold chill
Like when snows above your knees
Cold chill
Like sitting at the north pole
A cold chill
Wearing not one stitch of clothes
Cold chill
Like a winter chicago night
A cold chill
Twenty ice cubes down your back for spite
Cold chill
Stranded in sub-zero degrees
A cold chill
Layed out on the arctic sea
Cold chill
When your fingers get frost bite
A cold chill
Buried beneath ten feet of ice
Cold chill
Baby, that aint so nice
A cold chill
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Love's Autumn
YES, love, the Spring shall come again,
But not as once it came:
Once more in meadow and in lane
The daffodils shall flame,
The cowslips blow, but all in vain;
Alike, yet not the same.
The roses that we pluck’d of old
Were dew’d with heart’s delight;
Our gladness steep’d the primrose-gold
In half its lovely light:
The hopes are long since dead and cold
That flush’d the wind-flowers’ white.
Oh, who shall give us back our Spring?
What spell can fill the air
With all the birds of painted wing
That sang for us whilere?
What charm reclothe with blossoming
Our lives, grown blank and bare?
What sun can draw the ruddy bloom
Back to hope’s faded rose?
What stir of summer re-illume
Our hearts’ wreck’d garden-close?
What flowers can fill the empty room
Where now the nightshade grows?
’T is but the Autumn’s chilly sun
That mocks the glow of May;
’T is but the pallid bindweeds run
Across our garden way,
Pale orchids, scentless every one,
Ghosts of the summer day.
Yet, if it must be so, ’t is well:
What part have we in June?
Our hearts have all forgot the spell
That held the summer noon;
We echo back the cuckoo’s knell,
And not the linnet’s tune.
What shall we do with roses now,
Whose cheeks no more are red?
What violets should deck our brow,
Whose hopes long since are fled?
Recalling many a wasted vow
And many a faith struck dead.
Bring heath and pimpernel and rue,
The Autumn’s sober flowers:
At least their scent will not renew
The thought of happy hours,
Nor drag sad memory back unto
That lost sweet time of ours.
Faith is no sun of summertide,
Only the pale, calm light
That, when the Autumn clouds divide,
Hangs in the watchet height,—
A lamp, wherewith we may abide
The coming of the night.
And yet, beneath its languid ray,
The moorlands bare and dry
Bethink them of the summer day
And flower, far and nigh,
With fragile memories of the May,
Blue as the August sky.
These are our flowers: they have no scent
To mock our waste desire,
No hint of bygone ravishment
To stir the faded fire:
The very soul of sad content
Dwells in each azure spire.
I have no violets: you laid
Your blight upon them all:
It was your hand, alas! that made
My roses fade and fall,
Your breath my lilies that forbade
To come at Summer’s call.
Yet take these scentless flowers and pale,
The last of all my year:
Be tender to them; they are frail:
But if thou hold them dear,
I ’ll not their brighter kin bewail,
That now lie cold and sere.
poem by John Howard Payne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When in winter summer is dead (cyhydedd fer sonnet)
When in winter summer is truly dead,
when the all flowers and leaves are shed
still I hear the dove's lovely coo and sing
as if they are whispering about spring.
Even when the cold winter winds sweep in
the ripe to the remaining plants death bring,
when birds to a distant summer have fled
to follow them your wings you do not spread.
There must be a kind of greatness, something
in romantically together living
there are icy and stripped days ahead,
promising a summer sun rising red
lies always somewhere in the near beyond,
like a dropp falling, falling in a pond.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winter And Summer
Come Winter, merry Winter,
Rejoice while yet you may,
For nearer, ever nearer,
Fair Summer draws each day,
And soon the tiny snowdrops
Shall waken from their sleep,
And, mossy banks from under,
The modest violets peep.
The apple trees shall scatter
Their buds at Summer's feet,
And with their fragrant odors
Make every zephyr sweet;
While Nature, of wild roses,
And lilies frail and white,
Shall make a wreath for Summer,
And crown her with delight.
Forth from the smiling heavens
Shall fall the gentle rain,
The earth shall feel her presence
And welcome her with grain;
The birds shall come and twitter,
And build amid the boughs,
So Winter, merry Winter,
While yet you may, carouse.
We love you, merry Winter,
You and the joys you bring,
And loud and long your praises
Throughout the world we sing;
But Summer, gentle Summer,
Comes shyly through the glade,
And draws all hearts to love her,
So fair is she arrayed.
We love the merry sleighing,
The swinging snowshoe tramp,
While in the clear, cold heavens
The calm moon holds her lamp,
We love the breathless coasting.
The skating and the games
Played amid shouts of laughter,
Around the hearth-fire flames.
But Summer, winsome Summer,
Holds greater stores of bliss,
When all the land awakens,
And blossoms at her kiss;
We soon shall feel her presence,
And breathe her perfumed breath,
Then, Winter, dear old Winter,
We will not mourn your death.
poem by Arthur Weir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God's Acre
’NEATH the spiring of spruces
Above the blue sea,
Lo, a field of white crosses,
A garden of grief!
—And a riot of roses,
Of red and white roses,
Rich Death! all in blossom,
Fair Loss! all in leaf.
Aye, their warm cherub-cheeks
To cold marble they press;
With sweet summer-kisses
Dead names they caress;
Yon tomb, see, all garlands,
All roses this cross!
—So breathe, my lamenting!
So bloom, O my loss!
poem by Blanche Edith Baughan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Moonlight And Roses
Moonlight and roses
bring back wonderful memories
of how our love used to be
before life’s temptations
began to tear us apart.
The walks in the park
under the moonlight
as the roses scented the air.
Now the moonlight and roses
bring back those memories
though you are no longer here.
Each love leaves memories,
moonlight and roses
I associate with all my memories of you.
So as the sun sets in the west
and the moon rises in the east,
the air is pollinated
with the scent of the rose’s perfume
as I walk the paths
I used to walk with you.
7 - 8 August 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winter's Whitest Spurts
Although John Clare declared that he
saw spring in winter’s whitest spurts,
for many this is hard to see
when, freezing, all our body hurts,
and winter’s direst discontent
makes cold blasts pierce the frozen soul.
We wonder where the summer went
when icy winds exact their toll,
and whistling toll for all of us
on nights we wish would be more silent.
each blast a blaring blunderbuss
that’s aimed to make us all an island,
disconnected from the spring
and summer, fall, that we remember
when we for warmth our cold arms fling
around each other in December.
Inspired by John Clare’s “The Winter’s Spring”:
THE winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please-no bees to hum-
The coming spring's already come.
I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.
I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.
I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.
It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring-the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature's white spurts of the spring.
12/24/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Wish You Sometimes Want
Bring to this coldness new summer to live
Into the darkness that follows this road
Heavy as usual is its eclipse load
With nothing but panes frost roses to thrive
The laces of cold in the cracks of rime
Holding to moments of its dullness sky
Seeds that are trying to earth again shall die
Until again spring comes in its prime
Wish you sometimes want can't come through
For the new beginning is not in yet
To rise from yield of the summer blue height
But one day once more there will be the new
Coming to garden's bed with the right set
Turning the winter to summer night's light
- under construction -
poem by Peter S. Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In Snow-Time
How should I chose to walk the world with thee,
Mine own beloved? When green grass is stirred
By summer breezes, and each leafy tree
Shelters the nest of many a singing bird?
In time of roses, when the earth doth lie
Dressed in a garment of midsummer hues,
Beneath a canopy of sapphire sky,
Lulled by a soft wind's song? Or should I choose
To walk with thee along a wintry road,
Through flowerless fields, thick-sown with frosty rime,
Beside an ice-bound stream, whose waters flowed
In voiceless music all the summer-time?
In winter dreariness, or summer glee,
How should I choose to walk the world with thee?
The time of roses is the time of love,
Ah, my dear heart! but winter fires are bright,
And in the lack of sunshine from above
We tend more carefully love's sacred light.
The path among the roses lieth soft,
Sun-kissed and radiant under youthful feet;
But on a wintry way true hands more oft
Do meet and cling in pressure close and sweet.
There is more need of love's supporting arm
Along life's slippery pathway, in its frost;
There is more need for love to wrap us warm
Against life's cold, when summer flowers are lost.
Let others share thy life's glad summer glow,
But let me walk beside thee in its snow.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Roses
(melba montgomery, leslie satcher)
A soft summer evening, another time, another place
He brought her red roses on their very first date
She got carried away by the things that he said
Time would erase them but she would never forget
Chorus:
And the roses heard it all
The rose in her hair, the rose in her hand
The roses in the paper on the wall
Theres a story to tell if the roses could talk
Somewhere close to midnight, another time, another place
She lays in the darkness with tears on her face
While he talks in his sleep confessing his love
He calls out a name that shes never heard of
Repeat chorus
She never told him
She never let him see her cry
Only the roses know
What she kept down inside
The years took their toll and the angels took her away
Now theres family and friends at a cold winters grave
He kneels down and whispers. youre the only love that Ive known
As he lays a rose on a cold marble atone
But the roses heard it all
The rose from her garden, the rose in her bible
The roses in the paper on the wall
Theres a story to tell if roses could talk
What a story to tell if roses could talk~
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Summer make way for autumn
Once in every while comes a time for change, I say this as I see summer is slowly fading away; it was a beautiful stay I hope you enjoyed yourself all the way. I understand it’s time for change a family member is now to take your place to bring nothing but change, hope he also enjoys his stay.
Summer I love your unpredictability, the showers you bring to us to cool us down when the sun is just in one of his moods, you know you’re the only one who can handle the dude, glad they choose you. And when you come for your stay you bring along the most precious gifts during your stay, if I may, kindly say, the scent in the air, the birth of roses and the humming of birds, like flashbacks of recent years, and joyful tears, oh the aroma like making unconditional love I get chills when I reminisce about your breathtaking ways and heart fulfilling days…
Still I dream of nights he comes along, I awake and anticipate coming days, I love you dear SUMMER but the essence he carries makes my heart jump out of my chest with wonder of how this one will be like, hmmm I wonder...
I had quite a few unforgettable memories during one of his visits; his aura made me smile, and walked for miles and in the presence of now a lost love during a time I longed so much to fall in love…
And yes you AUTUMN the yellowish brownish and almost goldish color that exudes a certain flare like a glamorous event, and the air the smell the atmosphere, is a dream. I get out at times just to see if I’m not dreaming, this is what fairytales are made of, and oh yes I have tales of my own in know what they are made of. The kisses shared the moments spent, the love made, the experience gained, the mazes explained, amazement and no regrets, is just a taste of what you bring, so I gladly say I look forward to your stay, and if I may I wish you all the best during your time here…
BY: Thato M
poem by Thato Maluleka
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Laus Mortis
I bring to thee, for love, white roses, delicate Death!
White lilies of the valley, dropping gently tears,
The white camellia, the seal of perfect years,
The misty white azalea, flickering as a breath.
White flowers I bring, and all the flowers I bring for thee,
Discreet and comforting Death! for those pale hands of thine;
O hands that I have fled, soft hands now laid on mine,
Softer than these white flowers of life, thy hands to me,
Most comfortable Death, mother of many dreams,
And gatherer of many dreams of men,
Dreams that come desolately flying back again,
With soiled and quivering wings, from undiscovered streams.
I have been fearful of thee, mother, all life long,
For I have loved a warm, alluring, treacherous bride,
Life, and she loved thee not; to hold me from thy side,
She closed her arms about my heart, to do thee wrong.
O gay and bitter bride of such divine desires,
Too fiercely passionate Life, that wast so prodigal
Of thine eternal moments, at the end of all
Take my forgiveness: I have passed through all thy fires.
Nothing can hurt me now, and having gained and lost
All things, and having loved, and having done with life,
I come back to thy arms, mother, and now all strife
Ceases; and every homeward-flying dream, wind-tossed,
My soul that looks upon thy face and understands,
My throbbing heart that at thy touch is quieted,
And all that once desired, and all desire now dead,
Are gathered to the peace and twilight of thy hands.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What Can You Bring Me
(j gadson)
When your lovin is gone
And you cant carry on
What can you bring me
When there aint nobody else
And you cant help yourself
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
Can you bring me that happy day
Let me know that everything is ok
Bring it strong and bring it fast
Bring it till the pain is in the past
What can you bring me, thatll unchain me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me baby
What can you bring me
Like a amn whose on that road, drivin hard towards his goal
Like Im on my last go round
My love lifes lost and cant be found
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
Hurry baby, dont waste time
I need somebody, help me solve this crime
Bring it strong and bring it fast
Bring it till the pain is in the past
What can you bring me, thatll unchain me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
Help my equilibrium baby
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
What can you bring me
song performed by by Robert Palmer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Ramblin' Buy
(Tom Paxton)
He was a man and a friend always
He stuck with me in the hard old days.
He never cared if I had no dough,
We rambled round in the rain and snow.
And here's to you, my ramblin' boy,
May all your ramblin' bring you joy.
Here's to you, my ramblin' boy,
May all your ramblin' bring you joy.
In Tulsa town, we chanced to stray.
We thought that we, we might work one day.
The boss said he had room for one,
Said my old pal, ?We'd rather bum?.
And here's to you, my ramblin' boy,
May all your ramblin' bring you joy.
Here's to you, my ramblin' boy,
May all your ramblin' bring you joy.
Then late one night in a jungle camp
The weather it, it was cold and damp.
He got the chills, he got 'em bad,
I lost the only friend I had.
And here's to you, my ramblin' boy,
May all your ramblin' bring you joy.
Here's to you, my ramblin' boy,
May all your ramblin' bring you joy.
My ramblin' pal has rambled on,
My ramblin' boy, he's dead and gone.
If when we die, we go somewhere,
I'll bet you a dollar he's ramblin' there.
And here's to you, my ramblin' boy,
May all your ramblin' bring you joy.
Here's to you, my ramblin' boy,
May all your ramblin' bring you joy.
May all your ramblin' bring you joy.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!