The Saddest Hour
The saddest hour of anguish and of loss
Is not that season of supreme despair
When we can find no least light anywhere
To gild the dread, black shadow of the Cross;
Not in that luxury of sorrow when
We sup on salt of tears, and drink the gall
Of memories of days beyond recall—
Of lost delights that cannot come again.
But when, with eyes that are no longer wet,
We look out on the great, wide world of men,
And, smiling, lean toward a bright to-morrow,
Then backward shrink, with sudden keen regret,
To find that we are learning to forget:
Ah! then we face the saddest hour of sorrow.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
A Year Ago
I'm sitting by the fire tonight,
The cat purrs on the rug;
The room's abrim with rosy light,
Suavely soft and snug;
And safe and warm from dark and storm
It's cosiness I hug.
Then petulant the window pane
Quakes in the tempest moan,
And cries: "Forlornly in the rain
There starkly streams a stone,
Where one so dear who shared your cheer
Now lies alone, alone.
Go forth! Go forth into the gale
And pass and hour in prayer;
This night of sorrow do not fail
The one you deemed so fair,
The girl below the bitter snow
Who died your child to bear."
So wails the wind, yet here I sit
Beside the ember's glow;
My grog is hot, my pipe is lit,
And loth am I to go
To her who died a ten-month bride,
Only a year ago.
To-day we weep: each morrow is
A littling of regret;
The saddest part of sorrow is
That we in time forget . . .
Christ! Let me go to graveyard woe,--
Yea, I will sorrow yet.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love - Evening of Sorrow
Walking down the hospital corridors
Startled and terrified
The feeling hasn't sunk in
Sulking like a little boy without Milk
Don't Forsake me
Don't Desert me in this Merciless world
The Disgruntlement, The Anguish
My Sorrow, My Woe
My Sorrow, My Woe
Her Memories Loom
The lustrous Smile on her face
Used to tear down sorrow and grief
Her refulgent Eyes
The future looked sunny and bright
Don't Forsake me
Don't Desert me in this Merciless world
The Disgruntlement, The Anguish
My Sorrow, My Woe
My Sorrow, My Woe
She took away the Anger
And turned it into Cheer
Every moment with her
Was a carnival of Joy
Her Purity and grace
Sanity and maturity
Taught me,
to be benevolent and kind
Her thoughts brought tears
Why Her, Why not me?
Will take torment and torture
pass through fire and Ice
SO that she can come back to me
Don't Forsake me
Don't Desert me in this Merciless world
The Disgruntlement, The Anguish
My Sorrow, My Woe
My Sorrow, My Woe
The room was closed
Curtains on the Glass door
Waiting anxiously
put up a stern face
hope against hope
All for Love
The wait was getting unbearable
The doors Open
A hug but No smile
THE Heart beat faster than a Race horse
Happiness and Fear hit me at once
closer to visibility
Don't Forsake me
Don't Desert me in this Merciless world
The Disgruntlement, The Anguish
My Sorrow, My Woe
My Sorrow, My Woe
There she was
with a smile on her face
I looked up to the Sky
And said Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa
The grace from above
brought tears of Joy
Held her hands
tightly as I could
Sorrow and pain Left me
Tears continued flowing
She just smiled
Smile on, Smile on
poem by Jithu Varghese
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tonight I Can Write
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, 'The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
translated by W.S. Merwin
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Two Nights
(Suggested by the lives of Napoleon and Josephine.)
I.
ONE night was full of rapture and delight-
Of reunited arms and swooning kisses,
And all the unnamed and unnumbered blisses
Which fond souls find in love of love at night.
Heart beat with heart, and each clung into each
With twining arms that did but loose their hold
To cling still closer; and fond glances told
These truths for which there is no uttered speech.
There was sweet laughter and endearing words,
Made broken by the kiss that could not wait,
And cooing sounds as of dear little birds
That in spring-time love and woo and mate.
And languid sighs that breathed of love's content
And all too soon this night of rapture went.
II.
One night was full of anguish and of pain,
Of nerveless arms and mockery of kisses;
And those caresses where one sick heart misses
The quick response the other cannot feign.
Hands idly clasped and unclasped, and lost hold,
And the averted eyes that turned away,
And in whose depths no love nor longing lay,
The saddest of all truths too plainly told.
There was salt sorrow and the gall of tears,
Some useless words that ended in a moan,
And a dull dread of long unending years
When one must walk forever more alone.
Deep shuddering sighs told more than lips could say;
And the long night of sorrow wore away.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
As we bask in sorrow
While recently having a conversation with a friend, we discussed 'basking in sorrow, ' which by definition, is an oxymoron.. bask meaning to take great pleasure or satisfaction; and sorrow meaning loss or despair.
It is possible to bask in sorrow. While for one reason or another, sadness consumes you, at the same time you could be quite happy. For example; I am naturally a happy person. Therefor while I may feel constant sadness about a certain situation, I may still be basking; or somewhat happy. (smiling, laughing, having a good time)
Many people have a sadness inside them that is hidden, or in the back of their mind at all times. These people are probably happy, can have fun, and seem to be in good cheer, while the sadness is still there, in their minds or hearts.
Therefor; we bask in sorrow.
Here we sit and bask in sorrow
Secretly begging for the morrow
A smile upon the outside face
Strength that shows as we run our race
Happiness is never too far away
Genuine cheer throughout the day
But a certain sadness wears us down
And being alone makes us frown
For this is what causes our heartache and grief
It hides under smiles, the sly little thief
So though we are basking in our sorrow today
We might soon find something to keep it at bay
poem by Kamryn Chew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tonight I can write the saddest lines
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my sould is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.
poem by Pablo Neruda
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Finding Loves Fool
Finding loves fool
loves fool you may be
but I stand in front of thee
a light covered in the shroud of lies
Where sorrow will not die
In the shroud of lies
will I be
So there look for me
If the lies should make you sorrow
Do not cry in fear of tomorrow
For I will find thee before
That marrow
And at that time
There will be no sorrow
Should your eyes still cry
then I will find you in the
in the shroud of lies
Twice as fast as
You cry
Will I fly to your side
may I wipe away the tears
Of pain and sorrow
and your fears
For now and tomorrow
Then from your tears will I form
A drink of love
And sorrow torn
then may I show you the light
Of tomorrow
Along with it the army of sorrow
And then in fight
I shall give you no sorrow
For none shall pass me
But die in the birth of tomorrow
If in case should I die
Then sprout your wings
And fly
Beyond the sight of this marrow
Then rise above
The next army of sorrow
Find me now
Without sorrow
Find me now in
Heavens tomorrow
Then see the light oh fool of love
See the light of heaven above
Then there will be no shroud of lies
And together are wings shall fly
over mountains and beyond the sea
to a place were we can both be
Without the pain and sorrow
But at the birth
Of a new tomorrow
A tomorrow were a new earth brings
The life of another
Child with wings
With these wing he shall soar
And for loves fool
The search
Begins once more
poem by Cody Byrne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Down in the dark
Down in the dark, it’s all in my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
I want it to leave, but it wants to stay,
I try and I try, but he won’t go away,
There by day, there at night,
Saying the things, that fills me with fright,
I’m down in the dark, it fills my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
He’s always around, lurking inside,
Watching; waiting, my hands are tied,
In my head, always near,
In my thoughts, building the fear,
Down in the dark, filling my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
The pain; it grows, bursting within,
The dark; he’s back, with his terror filled grin,
“I’ll help”; he says, talking to me,
“I know what to do, just come and see, ”
Down in the dark, it filled my head,
The pain the sorrow, all of the dread,
My thoughts are violent, with sorrow in my chest,
I just close my eyes, and hope for the best,
He tells me good job, I’ll find the light,
But my life is ending, with the chill of the night.,
Dead in the dark, lost in my head,
No more pain or sorrow, not even dread….,
poem by Jacob Hill
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Black Flag
I dont understand why the sun is shining so bright
You are not here and things are just not all right
This morning I wished that it would rain all day
It would have comforted me and my mood of decay
Now I have to face the sunshine right in my face
And although the warmth is nice - it feels out of place
No one knows that without you I cease to normally exist
And I feel lost among smiling faces right here in their midst
I wish I could crawl into the cracks of the sidewalk
I want to hide for now and set your arrival on my alarm clock
Until then I want to carry your absence around in my bag
Like an omen of sadness instead of hissing a black flag
I am at a loss that I cant find you anywhere I look
It is frustrating - and anguish and despair overtook
While you are sleeping I hope that you can hear my cries
And get up to find me before my heart and spirit dies
© 2011
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sad eyes (Angel incarnate)
Sad eyes cry many tears
Many unseen by those around
These eyes are mine
For I'm alone in a world of sorrow
I tried hiding but it found me
I tried running but it captured me
I soon realized you can't escape
Not from pain, sorrow, fear or death
They all catch up with us eventually.
I was put here not to suffer
But to learn
To learn what makes sorrow, pain, fear, and death.
To learn, to understand and find a way to ease people's fears of death and to take away their sorrow
Sad eyes cry many tears
Many unseen by those around
These eyes are mine
For I'm alone in a world of sorrow
I know I look youthful but really I'm ancient
I was here a little after the beginning my soul reincarnate always knowing and seeing what I've seen
Never being deceived herself but seeing the deceitful people around her
My eyes are sad because I'm supposed to be innocent but I'm not
They're sad because I can never just be who I am
Because if I do I'll be feared and harmed even though I myself am essentially harmless
I pity those around me but find no pity towards me in others eyes
I'm the angel incarnate
I lost my wings because my tears washed them away
poem by Jenna Camilla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Price to Peace
LONG since I taught my spirit to obey
The Sage's great commandment - to forget
And so to lose life's bitterness and fret
And taste its sweetness; and I went my way
Eluding joy and sorrow, grave and gay,
And lived exempt, my being always set
Upon the striking hour, without regret,
Secure, refreshed, remote from yesterday.
But oh my friend, my love, my very dear,
My practised wisdom is a curse to me;
I do forget, and when you are not near
It is, by Heaven, as if you ceased to be;
And I would buy with agony and fear
One hour, one little hour of memory.
poem by Alice Duer Miller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sunday Is The Saddest Day
Sunday is the saddest day
When were apart everything I say
Gets in the way, gets into place
Of how I feel standing face to face
Sunday is the saddest day
All you want
All you breathe
You wont need to find another
Tell me what is wrong
Tell me where we belong
And what we said
Tell me its only in my head
Show me whos to blame
Show me were the same
And where we go
Yeh show me something I dont know
Sunday is the saddest day
Dont give me legends, theyre far too late
Your sweet crusader he got away
I know thats hard to take
Sunday is the saddest day
You dont want
You dont need
Cause its hard to pull together
Tell me what is wrong
Tell me where we belong
And what we said
Tell me its only in my head
Show me whos to blame
Show me were the same
And where we go
Yeh show me something I dont know
Sunday is the saddest day
You pick apart everything I say
Sunday is the sadddest day
All you want
All you breathe
You wont need to find another
Tell me what is wrong
Tell me where we belong
And what we said
Tell me its only in my head
Show me whos to blame
Show me were the same
And where we go
Yeh show me something I dont know
Tell me what is wrong
Tell me where we belong
And what we said
Tell me its only in my head
Show me whos to blame
Show me were the same
And where we go
Yeh show me something I dont know
(sunday is the saddest day)
Yeh show me something I dont know
(sunday is the saddest day)
There must be something I dont know
(sunday is the saddest day)
(when were apart everything I say)
Dont tell me its only in my head
(sunday is the saddest day)
song performed by by Texas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Worldly Wisdom
If it were in my dead Past’s power
To let my Present bask
In some lost pleasure for an hour,
This is the boon I’d ask:
Re-pedestal from out the dust
Where long ago ‘twas hurled,
My beautiful incautious trust
In this unworthy world.
The symbol of my souls own truth –
I saw it go with tears –
The sweet unwisdom of my youth –
That vanished with the years.
Since knowledge brings us only grief,
I would return again
To happy ignorance and belief
In motives and in men.
For worldly wisdom learned in pain
Is in itself a cross,
Significant mayhap of gain,
Yet sign of saddest loss.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Only Song
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
You took it all
Without any gain.
You loved us all
With gentle eyes
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
39 plus one
Lashes great fall on your back
A crown of thorns
Pressed down around your head
The blood runs down
and yet you cry
'So many lost;
So many die.'
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
Leave it now-
And cry again
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
Your troubled heart
Feels my pain.
Lifted up to die
Bitter gall served fresh
As wine
Yet you'd do it again
For one lost sheep
That beats in the air.
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
When is it enough?
So much grief
You swallow up
Yet you bore it
And demand me live-
Man of sorrow
I humbled myself down.
All glory to you
Man of sorrow
All thrones belong to you
Man of pain
You gave me life and
Even more
I have nothing
But myself to give -
Yet I keep taking it back
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain.
poem by Charlotte Ballard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Kissing The Rod
O heart of mine, we shouldn't
Worry so!
What we've missed of calm we couldn't
Have, you know!
What we've met of stormy pain,
And of sorrow's driving rain,
We can better meet again,
If it blow!
We have erred in that dark hour
We have known,
When our tears fell with the shower,
All alone!--
Were not shine and shadow blent
As the gracious Master meant?--
Let us temper our content
With His own.
For, we know, not every morrow
Can be sad;
So, forgetting all the sorrow
We have had,
Let us fold away our fears,
And put by our foolish tears,
And through all the coming years
Just be glad.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lines On The Old Man's Face
Definitive lines on his face
Convey the pathos of his life
One can see the painful trace
Of anguish cutting as a knife.
His unshed tears locked up inside
Stifled grief that left him torn
Eyes in blank stare try to hide
A father's sorrow yet unborn.
The years have not been very kind
Each day he ached for lost company
His beloved son they could not find
These last days leave him a memory.
War is cruel, unmerciful is Fate
For heroes are the dead and the lost
The lines on his face now sadly state
'My son had paid such a great cost.'
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Grown men do cry
Old memories which linger still.
Can bring the tear drops to my eyes
Sometimes they take me by surprise
and cause my tears to freely spill.
I’m not afraid to say they do.
There is no reason I should be.
My memories both old and new
are an integral part of me.
Sometimes they’re tears of happiness
and I am smiling through my tears.
Though other tears recall sadness
that I have suffered through the years.
Old memories reminding me
of joy and sorrow equally.
Monday,09 November 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Depths Of The Sea
FOR A PICTURE BY E. BURNE JONES
I
Habes tota quod mente petisti
Infelix.
IN deep vague spaces of the lonely sea
She deemed her soulless life was almost fair,
Yet ever dreamed that in the upper air
Lay happiness--supreme in mystery;
Then saw him--out of reach as you I see--
Worshipped his strength, the brown breast broad and bare,
The arms that bent the oar, and grew aware
Of what life means, and why it is good to be;
And yearned for him with all her body sweet,
Her lithe cold arms, and chill wet bosom's beat,
Vowed him her beauty's unillumined shrine:
So I--seeing you above me--turn and tire,
Sick with an empty ache of long desire
To drag you down, to hold you, make you mine!
II
Attained at last--the lifelong longing's prize!
Raped from the world of air where warm loves glow,
She bears him through her water-world below;
Yet in those strange, glad, fair, mysterious eyes
The shadow of the after-sorrow lies,
And of the coming hour, when she shall know
What she has lost in having gained him so,
And whether death life's longing satisfies.
She shall find out the meaning of despair,
And know the anguish of a granted prayer,
And how, all ended, all is yet undone.
So I--I long for what, far off, you shine,
Not what you must be ere you could be mine,
That which would crown despair if it were won.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sorrow Under Mist
Mist -
Giving wispy vapour to the breath,
Cool calm to autumn afternoons,
A hovering air of mysticism
Over brooding lakes -
Was different here,
Affording company, closeness -
A caring arm around her shoulders.
In the eyes, a once-clear oceanic blue
Wavered under water -
Tears telling torrid truths
She couldn't face -
Like the glowering image in the mirror
You don't see in your mind's eye
Of compensation; delusion.
We see her sitting on the concrete steps
That led down to the dew-laden garden.
She's peering up, sensing her diffuse companion,
Refreshing in its chill; giving crispness
To the stealth of dulling evening.
But the bite of air couldn't lift the sorrow
Of pale youth in love,
Shouldered by a not-in-love and scoffing eye.
Rejection hurt;
Hurts -
Wrenches deep -
Emotion that we can't deny!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Sorrow Rain
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow sorrow
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Iron Cross
THEY pass, with heavy eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross,
The Nations, stricken with their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
What is the prayer they pray to Him,
Christ Jesus on the Iron Cross?
The Christ, neglected, dark with moss,
Whose hands are pierced, whose face is grim.
Is it forgiveness for great sin
They plead before the Iron Cross?
Or for some gift of gold or dross?
Or battle lost, that they would win?
With eyes where hate and horror meet,
They pass before the Iron Cross,
The Cross, that ancient words emboss,
Where hangs the Christ with nail-pierced feet.
His hair is fallen on his face.
His head hangs sidewise from the Cross —
The Crucified, who knows all loss,
And had on Earth no resting place.
'O world of men,' he seems to say,
'Behold me on your Iron Cross!
To me why kneel and tell your loss?
Why kneel to me and weep and pray?
'Have I not taught you to forgive?
And bade you from my Iron Cross
Believe, and bear your grief and loss,
That after death you too may live?
'You have not followed at my call!
You keep me on this Iron Cross,
And pray me keep you from all loss,
And save and comfort you withal.—
'You ask for love, and hate the more! —
You keep me on this Iron Cross!—
Restore to me my greater loss,
The brotherhood of rich and poor.'
They pass, with weary eyes and hair,
Before the Christ upon the Cross —
The Nations, wailing of their loss,
And lifting faces of despair.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!