The Morrow
Clouds aloft and tides below,
Of stormy water from the high winds;
And like a descending shadow from a hero's ashes.
To prove as true from Poland and,
To visit th tombs in Turkey with my lover;
And the voices from the mourners are over now.
The virgins of Africa do lament,
For the blood of their people are as pour as the blessing;
And like the last thought on my throne of love,
But the stars on the sea will be there for the morrow.
Wise ans deep in lore,
And like a worthless clay in a captive;
But the morrow will prove the truth to all.
Of the fingers of man's hand,
Let joy be unconfined to all!
And like the war-note with the memory of the thousands of years;
But my sweet love will always be with you my lonely lady.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
Vision of Belshazzar
I
The King was on his throne,
The Satraps throng'd the hall;
A thousand bright lamps shone
O'er that high festival.
A thousand cups of gold,
In Judah deem'd divine—
Jehovah's vessels hold
The godless Heathen's wine!
In that same hour and hall,
The fingers of a hand
Came forth against the wall,
And wrote as if on sand:
The fingers of a man;—
A solitary hand
Along the letters ran,
And traced them like a wand.
II
The monarch saw, and shook,
And bade no more rejoice;
All bloodless wax'd his look,
And tremulous his voice.
"Let the men of lore appear,
The wisest of the earth,
And expound the words of fear
Which mar our royal mirth."
Chaldea's seers are good,
But here they have no skill;
And the unknown letters stood
Untold and awful still.
And Babel's men of age
Are wise and deep in lore;
But now they were not sage,
They saw—but knew no more.
III
A captive in the land,
A stranger and a youth,
He heard the king's command,
He saw that writing's truth.
The lamps around were bright,
The prophecy in view;
He read it on that night,—
The morrow proved it true.
"Belshazzar's grave is made,
His kingdom pass'd away,
He, in the balance weighed,
Is light and worthless clay.
The shroud, his robe of state,
His canopy the stone;
The Mede is at his gate!
The Persian on his throne!"
poem by Byron (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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But I Was Looking at the Permanent Stars
Bugles sang, saddening the evening air,
And bugles answered, sorrowful to hear.
Voices of boys were by the river-side.
Sleep mothered them; and left the twilight sad.
The shadow of the morrow weighed on men.
Voices of old despondency resigned,
Bowed by the shadow of the morrow, slept.
( ) dying tone
Of receding voices that will not return.
The wailing of the high far-travelling shells
And the deep cursing of the provoking ( )
The monstrous anger of our taciturn guns.
The majesty of the insults of their mouths.
poem by Wilfred Owen
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A King In Africa
I am a King in Africa and a lover to your heart,
So come and pay me homage my sweet lady;
I am a King in Africa and,
You are very beautiful and nurtured;
For you are like the stars up high in the sky!
Come and let me put a gold ring on your finger,
Come and let me take you as my wife,
For the blues of your love makes my heart beat.
Your love flows like the spring water to me and,
I will do anything to get you as my wife;
For you are the most beautiful one among the ten.
My heart is on fire because of your love!
But catch me a river to cool this heart;
For i have to come to you like a lion on the path of love.
Your love is like the tales of the beautiful ones and,
You are the future of the sweet ladies yet to be born;
For my heart burns for you only.
I am a King in Africa and i have the forkful of tales on this love,
Ready to take it into my mouth needs you;
So my beautiful and nurtured lady,
Let me pick you as my wife among the ten.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Jeptha's Daughter
I
Since our Country, our God—Oh my Sire—
Demand that thy daughter expire;
Since thy triumph was brought by thy vow—
Strike the bosom that's bared for thee now!
II
And the voice of my mourning is o'er—
And the mountains behold me no more:
If the hand that I love lay me low,
There cannot be pain in the blow!
III
And of this, oh! my Father! be sure—
That the blood of thy child is as pure
As the blessing I beg ere it flow—
And the last thought that soothes me below.
IV
Though the virgins of Salem lament,
Be the judge and the hero unbent!
I have won the great battle for thee,
And my Father and Country are free!
V
When this blood of thy giving hath gush'd—
When the voice that thou lovest is hush'd—
Let my memory still be thy pride,
And forget not I smiled as I died!
poem by Byron (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Farewell
I LEAVE the world to-morrow,—
What news for Fairyland?
I’m tired of dust and sorrow
And folk on every hand.
A moon more calm and splendid
Moves there through deeper skies,
By maiden stars attended
She peaces goddes-wise.
And there no wrath oppresses,
And there no teardrops start,
There cool winds breathe caresses,
That soothe the weary heart.
The wealth the mad world follows
Turns ashes in the hand
Of him who sees the hollows
And glades of Fairyland.
And pine boughs sigh no sorrow
Where fairy rotas play,—
I leave the world to-morrow
For ever and a day.
poem by Enid Derham
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The House of Life: 71. The Choice, I
Eat thou and drink; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Surely the earth, that's wise being very old,
Needs not our help. Then loose me, love, and hold
Thy sultry hair up from my face; that I
May pour for thee this golden wine, brim-high,
Till round the glass thy fingers glow like gold.
We'll drown all hours: thy song, while hours are toll'd,
Shall leap, as fountains veil the changing sky.
Now kiss, and think that there are really those,
My own high-bosom'd beauty, who increase
Vain gold, vain lore, and yet might choose our way!
Through many years they toil; then on a day
They die not,--for their life was death,--but cease;
And round their narrow lips the mould falls close.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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LXXI The Choice, I
Eat thou and drink; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Surely the earth, that's wise being very old,
Needs not our help. Then loose me, love, and hold
Thy sultry hair up from my face; that I
May pour for thee this golden wine, brim-high,
Till round the glass thy fingers glow like gold.
We'll drown all hours: thy song, while hours are toll'd,
Shall leap, as fountains veil the changing sky.
Now kiss, and think that there are really those,
My own high-bosom'd beauty, who increase
Vain gold, vain lore, and yet might choose our way!
Through many years they toil; then on a day
They die not,--for their life was death,--but cease;
And round their narrow lips the mould falls close.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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A Trip
Prove to be a true companion and,
Prove to be my true lover;
For you've opened your sweet heart to me,
And i am getting ready for a trip with you.
A long day on winding mountain roads where,
Every stitch will bear the eveidence of your love towards me;
And out of the same duty to care for you,
For our love is all the lead me on.
Uncover my eyes that i may look at the wonderful things of your love,
And like the muse of my love and the care of your passions!
For this trip is all about you and me,
And i will stand tall to love you always my sweet one.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Don’t Cry For Me Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because I will never let you out of my mind
I hear your voices people of Africa
I hear your cries people of Africa
I see pain in your eyes people of Africa
It is hard to describe what you people of Africa are going through
Poverty strikes you all people of Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because I will keep you in my prayers people of Africa
Power to the people of Africa
People of Africa lift your spirit higher
Lord is the light and truth people of Africa
The Lord sends you a message from his heart to you people of Africa
He said because I love you
I will answer your prayers
I hear your prayers
Don’t cry for me Africa
Because you have a friend that is the Lord
People of Africa continue doing the Lords work
Make a wish people of Africa
The people of Africa are looking at the Lord face to face
Lord here is no paradise
We dream a little dream said the people of Africa to the Lord
The People of Africa Pray that the Lord will give each other strength every day
Don’t cry for me Africa
Save the people of Africa
Strengthened the people of Africa each day
Because I’ll be there in your dreams people of Africa
The people of Africa tells The Lord how much they love him
Don’t cry for me Africa
Lord comes when you are ready people of Africa
Feelings you have for your Lord People of Africa
And I know you will never let it die
Nothing but flowers the people of Africa will plant in the sea shore for the Lord
Don’t cry for me Africa
The people of Africa needs hope to heal there land
The Lord rose up on you people of Africa
Don’t cry for me Africa
My heart will go on
Once I close this door of the ship I will sail across the Atlantic Sea
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Sonnets LLXXI:LXXII:LXXIII: The Choice
I
Eat thou and drink; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Surely the earth, that's wise being very old,
Needs not our help. Then loose me, love, and hold
Thy sultry hair up from my face; that I
May pour for thee this golden wine, brim-high,
Till round the glass thy fingers glow like gold.
We'll drown all hours: thy song, while hours are toll'd,
Shall leap, as fountains veil the changing sky.
Now kiss, and think that there are really those,
My own high-bosomed beauty, who increase
Vain gold, vain lore, and yet might choose our way!
Through many years they toil; then on a day
They die not,—for their life was death,—but cease;
And round their narrow lips the mould falls close.
II
Watch thou and fear; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Or art thou sure thou shalt have time for death?
Is not the day which God's word promiseth
To come man knows not when? In yonder sky,
Now while we speak, the sun speeds forth: can I
Or thou assure him of his goal? God's breath
Even at this moment haply quickeneth
The air to a flame; till spirits, always nigh
Though screened and hid, shall walk the daylight here.
And dost thou prate of all that man shall do?
Canst thou, who hast but plagues, presume to be
Glad in his gladness that comes after thee?
Will his strength slay thy worm in Hell? Go to:
Cover thy countenance, and watch, and fear.
III
Think thou and act; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Outstretched in the sun's warmth upon the shore,
Thou say'st: “Man's measured path is all gone o'er:
Up all his years, steeply, with strain and sigh,
Man clomb until he touched the truth; and I,
Even I, am he whom it was destined for.”
How should this be? Art thou then so much more
Than they who sowed, that thou shouldst reap thereby?
Nay, come up hither. From this wave-washed mound
Unto the furthest flood-brim look with me;
Then reach on with thy thought till it be drown'd.
Miles and miles distant though the last line be,
And though thy soul sail leagues and leagues beyond,—
Still, leagues beyond those leagues, there is more sea.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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You are my opium
Is it a mystery to love you so,
Is it a myth that i cant forget you,
Is it a joke that i cry at times,
Is it a spell that im addicted
I search answers but reach none,
I search thought and reach some,
Its true, you are my opium
Did i forget to say bye,
Did i just shed a tear,
Did i just walk away,
Manhood and bravity,
Just to prove im a gentleman
Kiss me again and again
Just to prove you are my opium
I tell you i love you,
Just to prove im a gentleman,
You tell me i can go far,
Just to prove you are my opium
I tell you im sorry,
But you tell me otherwise
Just to prove you are my opium
Where are the stars,
Where is my old life,
You made me new,
You shuffled my life,
Just to prove you are my opium
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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Today
This is To-day, a child in white and blue
Running to meet me out of Night who stilled
The ghost of Yester-eve; this is fair Morn
The mother of To-morrow. And these clouds
That chase the sunshine over gleaming hills
Are thoughts, delighting in the golden change
And the ceremony of their drifting state.
This is To-day. To-morrow might bring death,—
And Life, the gleeful madrigal of birds,
Be drowned in glimmer of sleep. To-day I know
How sweet it is to spend these eyes, and boast
This bubble of vistaed memory and sense
Blown by my joy aloft the glittering airs
Of heavenly peace. Oh take me to yourselves,
Earth, sky, and spirit! Let me stand within
The circle of your transience, that my voice
May thrill the lonely silences with song.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Lady Clare
IT was the time when lilies blow,
And clouds are highest up in air,
Lord Ronald brought a lily-white doe
To give his cousin, Lady Clare.
I trow they did not part in scorn-
Lovers long-betroth'd were they:
They too will wed the morrow morn:
God's blessing on the day !
'He does not love me for my birth,
Nor for my lands so broad and fair;
He loves me for my own true worth,
And that is well,' said Lady Clare.
In there came old Alice the nurse,
Said, 'Who was this that went from thee?'
'It was my cousin,' said Lady Clare,
'To-morrow he weds vith me.'
'O God be thank'd!' said Alice the nurse,
' That all comes round so just and fair:
Lord Ronald is heir of all your lands,
And you are not the Lady Clare.'
'Are ye out of your mind, my nurse, my nurse?'
Said Lady Clare, 'that ye speak so wild?'
'As God's above,' said Alice the nurse,
' I speak the truth: you are my child.
'The old Earl's daughter died at my breast;
I speak the truth, as I live by bread!
I buried her like my own sweet child,
And put my child in her stead.'
'Falsely, falsely have ye done,
O mother,' she said, ' if this be true,
To keep the best man under the sun
So many years from his due.'
'Nay now, my child,' said Alice the nurse,
'But keep the secret for your life,
And all you have will be Lord Ronald's,
When you are man and wife.'
' If I'm a beggar born,' she said,
'I will speak out, for I dare not lie.
Pull off, pull off, the brooch of gold,
And fling the diamond necklace by.'
'Nay now, my child,' said Alice the nurse,
'But keep the secret all ye can.'
She said, ' Not so: but I will know
If there be any faith in man.'
'Nay now, what faith ?' said Alice the nurse,
'The man will cleave unto his right.'
'And he shall have it,' the lady replied,
'Tho' I should die to-night.'
'Yet give one kiss to your mother dear !
Alas, my child, I sinn'd for thee.'
'O mother, mother, mother,' she said,
'So strange it seems to me.
'Yet here's a kiss for my mother dear,
My mother dear, if this be so,
And lay your hand upon my head,
And bless me, mother, ere I go.'
She clad herself in a russet gown,
She was no longer Lady Clare:
She went by dale, and she went by down,
With a single rose in her hair.
The lily-white doe Lord Ronald had brought
Leapt up from where she lay,
Dropt her head in the maiden's hand,
And follow'd her all the way.
Down stept Lord Ronald from his tower:
'O Lady Clare, you shame your worth!
Why come you drest like a village maid,
That are the flower of the earth?'
'If I come drest like a village maid,
I am but as my fortunes are:
I am a beggar born,' she said,
'And not the Lady Clare.'
'Play me no tricks,' said Lord Ronald,
'For I am yours in word and in deed.
Play me no tricks,' said Lord Ronald,
'Your riddle is hard to read.'
O and proudly stood she up !
Her heart within her did not fail:
She look'd into Lord Ronald's eyes,
And told him all her nurse's tale.
He laugh'd a laugh of merry scorn:
He turn'd and kiss'd her where she stood:
'If you are not the heiress born,
And I,' said he, 'the next in blood--
'If you are not the heiress born,
And I,' said he, ' the lawful heir,
We two will wed to-morrow morn,
And you shall still be Lady Clare.'
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Frota
There is a sweet love flowing inside me and,
Your love is like the tea from South Africa;
And i can see true love in your eyes.
Your mother is not telling you the truth about this love,
But i will live to make it work between us;
For my name of Frota and, i come from Brazil.
I am glad to see the shadow of your love and,
You are like the sweet of wine of South Africa;
So come and let us share this love together.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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To-Morrow
When you’re suffering hard for your sins, old man,
When you wake to trouble and sleep ill—
Oh, this is the clack of the middle class,
‘Win back the respect of the people!’
You are weak, you’re a fool, or a drunken brute
When you’re deep in trouble and sorrow;
But walk down the street in a decent suit,
And their hats will be off to-morrow! Old Chap—
And their hats will be off to-morrow!
They cant and they cackle—‘Redeem the Past!’
Who never had past worth redeeming:
Your soul seems dead, but you’ll find at last
That somewhere your soul lay dreaming.
You may stagger down-hill in a beer-stained coat,
You may loaf, you may cadge and borrow—
But walk down the street with a ten-pound note
And their hats will be off to-morrow! Old Man—
Yes, their hats will be off to-morrow!
But stick to it, man! for your old self’s sake,
Though to brood on the past is human;
Hold up for the sake of the mate who was true,
And the sake of the Other Woman.
And as for the rest, you may take off your hat
And banish all signs of sorrow;
You may take their hands, but in spite of that,
Can they win your respect to-morrow? Old Man—
Can they win your respect to-morrow?
poem by Henry Lawson
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Christiana Obobi
Live life the way you so see it and,
Love it when you do care;
For the fruit of love is full of passions.
Be very mindful and care for the people around you,
Because your true lover may be closer to you than you thought;
For life is full of surprises!
The beauty of life is like the beauty of a lady called, 'Christiana Obobi';
But be very gentle with her to win her love because,
She's very shy and lonely.
Make your moves towards her to express yourself,
And tell her about how much you care about her;
Because love is the key and you should let her know about it.
She needs the truth from you because she is lonely,
And she was my classmate and i do know much about her;
So do not tell her lies when you really lover her,
Because she is looking for a sincere man to marry her!
And love will come the way when you do the right thing.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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There's No To-Morrow
Two long had Lov'd, and now the Nymph desir'd,
The Cloak of Wedlock, as the Case requir'd;
Urg'd that, the Day he wrought her to this Sorrow,
He Vow'd, that he wou'd marry her To-Morrow.
Agen he Swears, to shun the present Storm,
That he, To-Morrow, will that Vow perform.
The Morrows in their due Successions came;
Impatient still on Each, the pregnant Dame
Urg'd him to keep his Word, and still he swore the same.
When tir'd at length, and meaning no Redress,
But yet the Lye not caring to confess,
He for his Oath this Salvo chose to borrow,
That he was Free, since there was no To-Morrow;
For when it comes in Place to be employ'd,
'Tis then To-Day; To-Morrow's ne'er enjoy'd.
The Tale's a Jest, the Moral is a Truth;
To-Morrow and To-Morrow, cheat our Youth:
In riper Age, To-Morrow still we cry,
Not thinking, that the present Day we Dye;
Unpractis'd all the Good we had Design'd;
There's No To-Morrow to a Willing Mind.
poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
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Chanson d’Amour
I thought to live without true love
All my life through to be at peace,
But this heart, once again, would prove
Its folly from which I had won free.
Greater the folly is in me
Than child crying foolishly
To possess the lovely star
He sees shining clear and far.
However much I may despair
Love has well rewarded me
For serving him with all the care
I possess, without treachery,
Making Folly’s King of me.
Let all beware his deceit
Who grants such a gift, we see,
To those who serve loyally.
If I show anger it’s no wonder
To one who wounds me so sore
God! If I had him in my power
For just one day and no more:
Then he’d pay for his folly
As God my witness be!
He’d pay with his death, unless
He vanquished my lady blessed.
Ay! Noble heart, that is so wise,
Don’t scorn all my foolishness.
I know I’ve not the slightest right
To love you, just a lover’s right:
But folly drives us recklessly
Like a storm-tossed ship at sea,
That’s blown where the wind will blow,
Until all’s wrecked and brought low.
My lady who lacks never a grace,
Generous, kind, show me mercy:
Since there’s no evil in that face
But all good shines there clearly,
You know from whence this folly
That takes my life comes to me.
To whom can I cry again,
Except to you, in pain?
Song, pay her your respects, she
Is my sweet folly, and please
Beg her for God and honour
Never to prove a traitor.
poem by Le Châtelain de Coucy
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Dancing In The Fire
I think my heart was designed to fade and lose color
To turn inside out and wash in the rain
It loses all perfection in cold water
So the desired look is obtained
And it rises higher and higher
Like this filthy heat above the city sky
And I feel like I'm going mad dancing in the fire
As if I'm only here to prove there are mountains I could move
So love is spent dancing in the fire
Too high the cost and too quick the pain
And all that's left for the outsider
Is ashes from dancing in the fire
I think my eyes were made for deception
Interpreting lovers will call what they want the truth
With all I have seen burning behind these mirrors
The reflection they see is all that I pursue
And it rises higher and higher
Like this filthy heat above the city sky
And I feel like I'm going mad dancing in the fire
As if I'm only here to prove there are mountains I could move
So love is spent dancing in the fire
Too high the cost and too quick the pain
And all that's left for the outsider
Ashes from dancing in the fire
And voices get louder
And the air's too thick to breathe
Still I lie awake and I wait for the unknown power
Dying for want of sleep
I think my life line was stolen from a movie
The one where they are trying to solve the crime
But this prisoner is always one step before them
And everyone's running trying to stop me in time
And it keeps rising higher and higher
Like this filthy heat above the city sky
And I feel like I'm going mad dancing in the fire
As if I'm only here to prove
There are lovers I could move
Oh love is spent dancing in the fire
Too high the cost and too quick the pain
And all that's left for the outsider
Ashes from dancing in the fire
song performed by by Melissa Etheridge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Night Bring Me My Lover
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night, bring me my lover
Baby, night is sweet?
To each other thats the way we meet
I went all day for night to come
When I ? so easy
Do you want my lover, baby
Exchanging smiles and glances,
Just by to take my chances
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night, bring me my lover
Youre the living cruel
To satisfy each other, thats the loving truth
One day is all I want belong to ? baby
Thats the way I found you, lover?
Each other
Nights brought us one another
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
(Im so high) Im in love tonight
(so high) I think our love is so right
(so high) ? tomorrow-morrow
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover,
Night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
And night has brought me you, ooooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night...
song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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