The Change
She leaned out into the soft June weather,
With her long loose tresses the night breeze played;
Her eyes were as blue as the bells on the heather:
Oh, what is so fair as a fair young maid!
She folded her hands, like the leaves of a lily,
'My life, ' she said, 'is a night in June,
Fair and quiet, and calm and stilly;
Bring me a change, O changeful moon!
'Who would drift on a lake forever?
Young hearts weary - it is not strange,
And sigh for the beautiful bounding river;
New moon, true moon, bring me a change! '
The rose that rivalled her maiden blushes
Dropped from her breast, at a strangers feet;
Only a glance; but the hot blood rushes
To mantle a fair face, shy and sweet.
To and fro, while the moon is waning,
They walk, and the stars shine on above;
And one is in earnest, and one is feigning -
Oh, what is so sweet as a sweet young love?
A young life crushed, and a young heart broken,
A bleak wind blows through the lovely bower,
And all that remains of the love vows spoken -
Is the trampled leaf of a faded flower.
The night is dark, for the moon is failing -
And what is so pale as a pale old moon?
Cold is the wind through the tree tops wailing -
Woe that the change should come so soon.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Related quotes
Shamrock Song
O, the red rose may be fair,
And the lily statelier;
But my shamrock, one in three,
Takes the very heart of me!
Many a lover hath the rose
When june's musk-wind breathes and blows:
And in many a bower is heard
Her sweet praise from bee and bird.
Through the gold hours dreameth she,
In her warm heart passionately,
Her fair face hung languid-wise:
O, her breath of honey and spice!
Like a fair saint virginal
Stands your lily, silver and tall;
Over all the flowers that be
Is my shamrock dear to me.
Shines the lily like the sun,
Crystal-pure, a cold, sweet nun;
With her austere lip she sings
To her heart of heavenly things.
Gazeth through a night of June
To her sister-saint, the moon;
With the stars communeth long
Of the angels and their song.
But when summer died last year
Rose and lily died with her;
Shamrock stayeth every day,
Be the winds or gold or grey.
Irish hills, as grey as the dove,
Know the little plant I love;
Warm and fair it mantles them
Stretching down from throat to hem.
And it laughs o'er many a vale,
Sheltered safe from storm and gale;
Sky and sun and stars thereof
Love the gentle plant I love.
Soft it clothes the ruined floor
Of many an abbey, grey and hoar,
And the still home of the dead
With its green is carpeted.
Roses for an hour of love,
With the joy and pain thereof:
Stand my lilies white to see
All for prayer and purity.
These are white as the harvest moon,
Roses flush like the heart of June;
But my shamrock, brave and gay,
Glads the tired eyes every day.
O, the red rose shineth rare,
And the lily saintly fair;
But my shamrock, one in three,
Takes the inmost heart of me!
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Moon, We Look to You.
Moon, you have a shade of blue tonight –
Is it something that you saw or heard?
Only yesterday, your tone was proud and bright,
Yellow silver, full, and so assured.
Moon, despite the clarity of sky,
Metaphors of cloud that fluff with grey
Drift across your rounded face to spy;
Feeding back, there's awfully much to say.
Moon, you have a role to play up there –
We below must bear the earthly pain.
Duty bound, we shoulder sorrows fair –
You are free from our grotesque disdain.
Moon, we depend on you to shine
When the sun retires down below.
Add to that your grandest role divine:
Tidal Lord, to keep the seas in tow!
Moon, I hope you take to heart our plea –
Needless is the reason for your blue.
Beaming, you should give the night its glee:
We're despairing – so we look to you.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A New Forest Ballad
Oh she tripped over Ocknell plain,
And down by Bradley Water;
And the fairest maid on the forest side
Was Jane, the keeper's daughter.
She went and went through the broad gray lawns
As down the red sun sank,
And chill as the scent of a new-made grave
The mist smelt cold and dank.
'A token, a token!' that fair maid cried,
'A token that bodes me sorrow;
For they that smell the grave by night
Will see the corpse to-morrow.
'My own true love in Burley Walk
Does hunt to-night, I fear;
And if he meet my father stern,
His game may cost him dear.
'Ah, here's a curse on hare and grouse,
A curse on hart and hind;
And a health to the squire in all England,
Leaves never a head behind.'
Her true love shot a mighty hart
Among the standing rye,
When on him leapt that keeper old
From the fern where he did lie.
The forest laws were sharp and stern,
The forest blood was keen;
They lashed together for life and death
Beneath the hollies green.
The metal good and the walnut wood
Did soon in flinders flee;
They tost the orts to south and north,
And grappled knee to knee.
They wrestled up, they wrestled down,
They wrestled still and sore;
Beneath their feet the myrtle sweet
Was stamped to mud and gore.
Ah, cold pale moon, thou cruel pale moon,
That starest with never a frown
On all the grim and the ghastly things
That are wrought in thorpe and town:
And yet, cold pale moon, thou cruel pale moon,
That night hadst never the grace
To lighten two dying Christian men
To see one another's face.
They wrestled up, they wrestled down,
They wrestled sore and still,
The fiend who blinds the eyes of men
That night he had his will.
Like stags full spent, among the bent
They dropped a while to rest;
When the young man drove his saying knife
Deep in the old man's breast.
The old man drove his gunstock down
Upon the young man's head;
And side by side, by the water brown,
Those yeomen twain lay dead.
They dug three graves in Lyndhurst yard;
They dug them side by side;
Two yeomen lie there, and a maiden fair
A widow and never a bride.
In the New Forest, 1847.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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The New Moon
What have you got in your knapsack fair,
White moon, bright moon, pearling the air,
Spinning your bobbins and fabrics free,
Fleet moon, sweet moon, in to the sea?
Turquoise and beryl and rings of gold,
Clear moon, dear moon, ne’er to be sold?
Roses and lilies, romance and love,
Still moon, chill moon, swinging above?
Slender your feet as a white birds throat,
High moon, shy moon, drifting your boat
Into the murk of the world awhile,
Slim moon, dim moon, adding a smile.
Tender your eyes as a maiden’s kiss,
Fine moon, wine moon, no one knows this,
Under the spell of your witchery,
Dream moon, cream moon, first he kissed me.
poem by Zora Bernice May Cross
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Young Moon
Written by dewey bunnell and gerry beckley, 1994
Found on hourglass and highway.
Fascination with the light in your hair
A celebration, nothing else can compare
An invitation to share my life with you
Stepping forward, reaching out for your hand
Hear the music of the sea on the sand
Like a vision rising out of the blue
Looking like a
Young moon in the heavens
Mother to the stars
Young moon guide us tonight
Elevation to a place high above
The combination, you and me and our love
Determination to spend my life with you
Looking at you face to face with my world
A quiet beauty not like just any girl
Moving slowly from the dark into view
Looking like a
Young moon in the heavens
Mother to the stars
Young moon guide us tonight
We are here in this moment
Shining twice as bright
We are here for you to see
Bright lights, long shadows
Tonight, we can handle
All of the doubts we may hold inside
It is a new day, things are different now
Weve got each other
Well keep looking for that young moon
We are here in this moment
Shining twice as bright
We are here for all to see
Young moon in the heavens
Mother to the stars
Young moon guide us tonight
We are here in this moment
Shining twice as bright ...
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here Comes The Moon
Everybodys talking up a storm
Act like they dont notice it
But here it is and here it comes . . .
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Impulse always quickens when its full
As it turns my head around me
Yes it does and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Gods gift I see thats moving up there into the night . . .
Though dark the mirror in the sky reflects us our light:
Looks like a little brother to the sun
Or mother to the stars at night
And here it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Breath is always taken when its new
Enhance upon the clouds around it
Yes it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon.
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost without a moon
Where has this moon gone?
the moon that used to brighten up
the night sky,
And the moon that used to shine
Brighter than any star,
The moon that used to bring to me
This beautiful light,
For this moon used to lighten up
My heart,
Now that this moon is gone
I must rely on the stars
to bring me light,
This moon left me alone,
alone to suffer and think
empty thoughts,
And now i know that
I am lost,
Oh where has this moon gone?
poem by Oscar Aceves
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Light and Dark
Yes, You are Dark
Like the Darkness
of the Night
And Yes, I am Fair
Like the Sweet
Moonlight.
Yet the Moon
And The Night
Co-exist
Together...
Complementing
Each other -
With their shades of
the Light and the Dark.
Brushing each other,
Like the soft caresses
Of my Fair Fingers
On your Dark Skin.
And one such
Moonlit Night,
I'll be the Moon
And you'll be the
Night -
Making love to you
With your consent,
If I might.
The light of my
Effervescent Love
Igniting -
The Inhibited Passions
In the Dark Dungeons
Of your shadowy life.
Flooding you with
Vibrant colours
So Bright -
As Beautiful
And Celestial
As the
Skyline Rainbow
And Eternal...
As the Ethereal
Moonlight.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Change
Change
Said the sun to the moon,
You cannot stay.
Change
Says the moon to the waters,
All is flowing.
Change
Says the fields to the grass,
Seed-time and harvest,
Chaff and grain.
You must change said,
Said the worm to the bud,
Though not to a rose,
Petals fade
That wings may rise
Borne on the wind.
You are changing
said death to the maiden, your wan face
To memory, to beauty.
Are you ready to change?
Says the thought to the heart, to let her pass
All your life long
For the unknown, the unborn
In the alchemy
Of the world's dream?
You will change,
says the stars to the sun,
Says the night to the stars.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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In Faith
When the soft sweet wind o' the south went by,
I dwelt in the light of a dark brown eye;
And out where the robin sang his song,
We lived and loved, while the days were long.
In the sweet, sweet eves, when the moon swung high,
We wandered under the starry sky;
Or sat in the porch, and the moon looked through
The latticed wall where the roses grew.
My lips, that hd no lover's kiss,
You taught the art, till they trilled in bliss;
And the moon, and the stars, and the roses knew
That the heart you won was pure and true.
But true hearts weary men, maybe,
For you grew weary of love, and me.
Over the porch the dead vines hang,
And a mourning dove sobs where the robin sang.
In a warmer clime does another sigh
Under the light of your dark brown eye?
Did you follow the soft sweet wing o' the south,
And are you kissing a redder mouth?
Lips may be redder, and eyes more bright;
The face may be fairer you see to-night;
But never, love, while the stars shall shine,
Will you find a heart that is truer than mine.
Sometime, perhaps, when south winds blow,
You will think of a love you used to know;
Sometime, perhaps, when a robin sings,
Your heart will go back to olden things.
Sometime you will weary of this world's arts,
Of deceit and change and hollow hearts,
And, wearying, sigh for the 'used to be, '
And your feet will turn to the porch, and me.
I shall watch for you here when days grow long;
I shall list for your step through the robin's song;
I shall sit in the porch where the moon looks through,
And a vacant chair will wait - for you.
You may stray, and forget, and rove afar,
But my changeless love, like the polar star,
Will draw you at length o'er land and sea -
And I know you will yet come back to me.
The years may come, and the years may go,
But sometime again, when south winds blow,
When roses bloom, and the moon swings high,
I shall live in he light of your dark brown eye.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Willow-Tree
Know ye the willow-tree
Whose gray leaves quiver,
Whispering gloomily
To yon pale river;
Lady, at even-tide
Wander not near it,
They say its branches hide
A sad, lost spirit?
Once to the willow-tree
A maid came fearful,
Pale seemed her cheek to be,
Her blue eye tearful;
Soon as she saw the tree,
Her step moved fleeter,
No one was there—ah me!
No one to meet her!
Quick beat her heart to hear
The far bell's chime
Toll from the chapel-tower
The trysting time:
But the red sun went down
In golden flame,
And though she looked round,
Yet no one came!
Presently came the night,
Sadly to greet her,—
Moon in her silver light,
Stars in their glitter;
Then sank the moon away
Under the billow,
Still wept the maid alone—
There by the willow!
Through the long darkness,
By the stream rolling,
Hour after hour went on
Tolling and tolling.
Long was the darkness,
Lonely and stilly;
Shrill came the night-wind,
Piercing and chilly.
Shrill blew the morning breeze,
Biting and cold,
Bleak peers the gray dawn
Over the wold.
Bleak over moor and stream
Looks the grey dawn,
Gray, with dishevelled hair,
Still stands the willow there—
THE MAID IS GONE!
Domine, Domine!
Sing we a litany,—
Sing for poor maiden-hearts broken and weary;
Domine, Domine!
Sing we a litany,
Wail we and weep we a wild Miserere!
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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The Mirror Of Diana
Popular Name for Lake Nemi.
SHE floats into the quiet skies,
Where, in the circle of hills,
Her immemorial mirror fills
With light, as of a Virgin's eyes
When, love a-tremble in their blue,
They glow twin violets dipped in dew.
Mild as a metaphor of Sleep,
Immaculately maiden-white,
The Queen Moon of ancestral night
Beholds her image in the deep:
As if a-gaze she beams above
Lake Nemi's magic glass of love.
White rose, white lily of the vale,
Perfume the even breath of night;
In many a burst of sweet delight
The love throb of the nightingale
Swells through lush flowering woods and fills
The circle of the listening hills.
White rose, white lily of the skies,
The Moon-flower blossoms in the lake;
The nightingale for her fair sake
With hopeless love's impassioned cries
Seems fain to sing till song must kill
Himself with one tumultuous trill.
And all the songs and all the scents,
The light of glowworms and the fires
Of fire-flies in the cypress spires;
And all the wild wind instruments
Of pine and ilex as the breeze
Sweeps out their mystic harmonies;--
All are but Messengers of May
To that white orb of maiden fire
Who fills the moth with mad desire
To die enamoured in her ray,
And turns each dewdrop in the grass
Into a fairy looking-glass.
O Beauty, far and far above
The night moth and the nightingale!
Far, far above life's narrow pale,
O Unattainable! O Love!
Even as the nightingale we cry
For some Ideal set on high.
Haunting the deep reflective mind,
You may surprise its perfect Sphere
Glassed like the Moon within her mere,
Who at a puff of alien wind
Melts in innumerable rings,
Elusive in the flux of things.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Nothin New Under The Moon
Nowhere to go.
All night took everything.
Another nice try with mr. wrong.
Late night tv on my horizon.
National anthem and Im barely hangin on.
Just a typical saturday night.
Feeling like the rest of my life.
There was nothing new under the moon.
Same old dance, same old tune.
Just wishes on stars that never came true.
Just one more night to get through.
But there was nothing new under the moon, til you.
Hey what a change.
Hey what a concept.
Heres a true heart wanting mine.
News flash! whod ever thought you could
Have the same feeling at the very same time?
Look at what your loves doing to me.
I cant believe I used to believe
That there was nothing new under the moon.
Same old dance, same old tune.
Just wishes on stars that never came true.
Just one more night to get through.
There was nothing new under the moon, til you.
Nothin new under the moon
Same old dance, same old tune.
Just wishes on stars that never came true.
Just one more night to get through.
There was nothing new under the moon, til you.
Nothin new under the moon, til you.
There was nothing new under the moon, til you.
Nothin new, til you.
There was nothing new under the moon, til you.
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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River And Sea
Under the light of the silver moon
We two sat, when our hearts were young;
The night was warm with the breath of June,
And loud from the meadow the cricket sung,
And darker and deeper, oh, love, than the sea,
Were your dear eyes, as they beamed to me.
The moon hung clear, and the night was still:
The waters reflected the glittering skies;
The nightingale sang on the distant hill;
But sweeter than all was the light in your eyes -
Your dear, dark eyes, your eyes like the sea -
And up from the depths shone love for me.
My heart, like a river, was mad and wild -
And a river is not deep, like the sea;
But I said yout love was the love of a child,
Compared with the love that was felt by me;
A river leaps noisily, kissing the land,
But the sea is fathomless, deep and grand.
I vowed to love you, for ever and ever!
I called you cold, on that night in June,
But my fierce love, like a reckless river,
Dashed on, and away, and was spent too soon;
While yours - ah, yours was deep like the sea;
I cheated you, love, but you died for me!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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O Moon
O moon, large golden summer moon,
Hanging between the linden trees,
Which in the intermittent breeze
Beat with the rhythmic pulse of June!
O night-air, scented through and through
With honey-coloured flower of lime,
Sweet now as in that other time
When all my heart was sweet as you!
The sorcery of this breathing bloom
Works like enchantment in my brain,
Till, shuddering back to life again,
My dead self rises from its tomb.
And, lovely with the love of yore,
Its white ghost haunts the moon-white ways;
But, when it meets me face to face,
Flies trembling to the grave once more.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Sweet Summer's Dance
A dance upon the woodland green,
moon spinning with delight.
Wind aglow with moonbeam's ray
spreads far into eboned night.
Twirling ~ is sweet summer's dance
beneath the yearning moon.
Smiling down upon the face
of memory's rendered tune.
Stepping quickly ~ two- step now,
a waltzing hillside breeze
across the greening meadow ~
dancing softly through the trees.
Smiling moon ~ now breathes its sigh
upon sweet summer's dance.
Alive and luring ~ summer sweet ~
attracting moon's long glance.
'Round and 'round with rhythmic beat,
afire ~ with earthly charm,
summer blossoms with each step
beneath the moonbeams warm.
~~**~~**~~
Alas ~
Dark sky,
On horizon it falls.
Moon cries, as night ends much too soon.
Summer's dance now sends its sweet kiss.
~ Hypnotizing the man in the moon. ~
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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Simples
O bella bionda,
Sei come l'onda!
Of cool sweet dew and radiance mild
The moon a web of silence weaves
In the still garden where a child
Gathers the simple salad leaves.
A moondew stars her hanging hair
And moonlight kisses her young brow
And, gathering, she sings an air:
Fair as the wave is, fair, art thou!
Be mine, I pray, a waxen ear
To shield me from her childish croon
And mine a shielded heart for her
Who gathers simples of the moon.
poem by James Joyce
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Moon And Stars Above
A candle flickers
as the night breeze descends
casting shadows on the wall
of things we never saw.
They dance to the gentle rhythm
created by the breeze
as the clouds of evening
begin to gather in the sky.
Young lovers walk under
the moon and stars above
to kiss and cuddle in profusion
under the nearest tree.
Slowly night closes in
as the night chorus serenade
the young lovers
under the moon and stars above.
All too soon, they are parted
as night turns into day
and they have to wait again
until the night chorus signal
another close of day.
6 September 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer nights delights.
The sable cloak of night is sown
With a beauty which is shown
By a myriad points of light.
Which show against the dark of night
A background certain to enhance
Selena mistress of romance
As she observes young lovers dreams
She blesses them with soft moon beams.
Although the moon is permanent
Young love is often transient
But for tonight the moon will do.
Her best to make your dreams come true.
The sable cloak of night conceals
What the morning sun reveals
Feelings engendered by the moon
Can fade away alas too soon.
Thursday,19 January 2012
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers/
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Sweet Love Child
She stands in the doorway
In the pale moon shine
When she looks at me, every part of me,
Brings my soul back to life
Eyes like a rainbow
They cut right through
Oh I'm lost in time
All through my mind
I'm in love what can I do
Sweet love child...
I shiver, I shiver and shake
It's been a long, long time
When she touches me, every part of me
Just comes back alive
She rides like the wind
On a summers night
And she gives and takes
In the love she makes
She makes everything so right
My Sweet Love Child
My sweet love child...
By the light of the morning
Like an angel's sigh
I can feel her breath
Lying next to me
With the world locked outside
I can feel
A taste so sweet
And she gives me love
All the precious love
It makes my life so complete
Sweet Love Child
She stands in the doorway
In the pale moon shine
My Sweet Love Child
song performed by by Europe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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