Venus of the Louvre
Down the long hall she glistens like a star,
The foam-born mother of Love, transfixed to stone,
Yet none the less immortal, breathing on.
Time's brutal hand hath maimed but could not mar.
When first the enthralled enchantress from afar
Dazzled mine eyes, I saw not her alone,
Serenely poised on her world-worshipped throne,
As when she guided once her dove-drawn car,--
But at her feet a pale, death-stricken Jew,
Her life adorer, sobbed farewell to love.
Here Heine wept! Here still he weeps anew,
Nor ever shall his shadow lift or move,
While mourns one ardent heart, one poet-brain,
For vanished Hellas and Hebraic plain.
poem by Emma Lazarus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
A painful passage
I wept and wept, endlessly wept,
Like of which I have never wept
Save at the time of my mother’s death,
While some sequences I read
Off the book ‘The Blind Assassin’
Of Ms Margaret Atwild, wherein
A little girl, by name, Griffen
Watches speechless the gaze of the mother,
Who is in sick bed, the little sister
Being away at play, quite unaware,
And the mother in her feeble voice
Beseeching her to take care of her sister,
To which she assuredly nods and weeps
At the impending end of her mother,
Without thinking who is there to take
Her own care or that what is in store.
I wept and wept, endlessly wept
As the two little sisters resembled
My two granddaughters, me their mother,
As though their mother is in death bed,
With fear of death looming over my head.
I wept and wept, recurrently wept
When I read, wrote and rewrote
The above passage many a time.
27.03.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Hour When We Shall Meet Again
Dim hour! that sleep'st on pillowing clouds afar,
O rise and yoke the turtles to thy car!
Bend o'er the traces, blame each ligering dove!
And give me to the bosom of my love!
My gentle love, caressing and carest,
With heaving heart shall cradle me to rest!
Shed the warm tear-drop from her smiling eyes,
Lull with fond woe, and med'cine me with sighs!
Chilled by the night, the drooping rose of May
Mourns the long absence of the lovely day;
Young day returning at her promised hour
Weps o'er the sorrows of her fav'rite flower;
Weeps the soft dew, the balmy gale she sighs,
And darts a trembling lustre from her eyes.
New life and joy th' expanding floweret feels:
His pitying mistress mourns, and mourning heals!
poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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I Believe!
I believe in mother's immortal love, I believe that there's no-one like your mother.
I believe that this world is worse than perdiction.
I believe in the existence of heaven and so does the hell.
I believe in love at first sight.
I believe in sex on first date,
I believe in kissing a girl, younger or elder than me.
I believe in love and so does the hate.
I believe in insomnia and so does the immortal sleep.
I believe in kissing a marraied women.
I believe in living with a widow.
I believe in ghost, and so does the angels.
I believe in sky and so does the hell inside the earth.
I believe in love flowing with wind.
I believe in killing a beast.
I believe there's a life after death and so does the Satan.
I believe in brain and so does the heart.
I believe in sister's immortal love.
I believe in lover's mortal love.
I believe in kissing a sister.
I believe in huging a sister.
I believe in making a sister cry.
I believe in sister's eyes.
I believe in life, the mortal life.
I believe in the fire of hell.
I believe in maggots of skull.
I believe in motionless life.
I believe there's a place where I can kiss her and so does she.
I believe in misbehaving.
I believe in eve-teasing, I believe in raping, cause it exists.
I believe in making love twice and thrice a day.
I believe in eye contact.
I believe in rain, the heavenly droplets.
I believe in clouds, the one about to shout.
I believe in love without meeting each other.
I believe in cousin's love.
I believe in smile the one which can make you mine.
I believe in and I am supposed to believe in.
poem by Naman Bansal
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Come To Me When I'm Dying
A SONG.
Come to me when I'm dying;
Gaze on my wasted form,
Tired with so long defying
Life's ever-rushing storm.
Come, come when I am dying,
And stand beside my bed,
Ere yet my soul is flying,
And I am cold and dead.
Bend low and lower o'er me,
For I've a word to say
Though death is just before me,
Ere I can go away.
Now that my soul is hovering
Upon the verge of day,
For thee I'll lift the covering
That veils its quivering ray.
O, ne'er had I thus spoken
In health's bright, rosy glow!
But death my pride hath broken,
And brought my spirit low.
Though now this last revealing
Quickens life's curdling springs,
And a half-timid feeling
Faint flushes o'er me flings.
Bend lower yet above me,
For I would have thee know
How passing well I love thee,
And joy to tell thee so.
This love, so purely welling
Up in this heart of mine,
O, hath it e'er found dwelling
Within thy spirit's shrine?
I've prayed my God, in meekness,
To give me some control
Over this earthly weakness
That so enthralled my soul;
And now my soul rejoices
While sweetly-thrilling strains,
From low, harmonious voices,
Soothe all my dying pains.
They sing of the Eternal,
Whose throne is far above,
Where zephyrs softly vernal
Float over bowers of love;
Of hopes and joys, earth-blighted,
Blooming 'neath cloudless skies,
Of hearts and souls united
In love that never dies.
'Tis there, 'tis there I'll meet thee
When life's brief day is o'er;
O, with what joy to greet thee
On that eternal shore!
Farewell! for death is chilling
My pulses swift and fast;
And yet in God I'm willing
This hour should be my last.
Sometimes, when day declineth,
And all the gorgeous west
In gold and purple shineth,
Go to my place of rest;
And if thy voice in weeping,
Is borne upon the air,
Think not of me as sleeping;
All cold and silent there:--
But turn, with glances tender,
Toward a shining star,
Whose rays with chastened splendor
Fall on thee from afar.
And know the blissful dwelling
Where I am waiting thee,
When Jordan fiercely swelling
Shall set thy spirit free.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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The Childless Woman
O Mother of that heap of clay, so passive on your breast,
Now do you stare at death, woman, who yesterday were blest?
Now do you long to fare afar, and guide him on the way
Where he must wander all alone, his little feet astray?
But I now, but I now—
Sons of me seven and seven
The high God seals upon the brow,
And summons from his heaven.
Blest as a bride were you, woman, that time of years agone,
When love, giver of life, came close and led you to his throne.
And blest were you—have you forgot?—when through the moons of pain
The life love-given tugged at your heart and bound you with its chain.
But I now, but I now—
Seared by the high God's scorn—
Lives that will never come to birth
Body of me has borne.
And when the hour was come, woman, your dark and perilous hour,
When the twin spirits, Death and Life, clutched you with jealous power,
Rent by their war you lay half lost, until a baby's cry
Summoned you forth past world on world to sit with God on high.
But I now, but I now—
Never my baby's voice
Has called me forth from vales of woe
With seraphs to rejoice.
You in your arms have clasped him, woman, and fed him at your breast.
You sang him little songs at night, and lulled him to his rest.
The ages gone were yours then, and yours the years to be.
You gave him of your hope and saw the light no eye shall see.
But I now, but I now—
Sons of me born in dream
Cry out for robes of flesh; I see
Their wistful eyes agleam.
O mother of that heap of clay so passive on your breast—
Now do you stare at death, woman?—nay, peace, for you are blest.
Blest are you in your joy, woman, blest are you in your pain—
Once more he calls you past the worlds to sit. with God again.
But I now, but I now—
Sons of me nine and nine,
That looked on life and death with me,
Are neither God’s nor mine.
poem by Harriet Monroe
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To Them That Mourn
Lift up your heads: in life, in death,
God knoweth his head was high.
Quit we the coward's broken breath
Who watched a strong man die.
If we must say, 'No more his peer
Cometh; the flag is furled.'
Stand not too near him, lest he hear
That slander on the world.
The good green earth he loved and trod
Is still, with many a scar,
Writ in the chronicles of God,
A giant-bearing star.
He fell: but Britain's banner swings
Above his sunken crown.
Black death shall have his toll of kings
Before that cross goes down.
Once more shall move with mighty things
His house of ancient tale,
Where kings whose hands were kissed of kings
Went in: and came out pale.
O young ones of a darker day,
In art's wan colours clad,
Whose very love and hate are grey -
Whose very sin is sad.
Pass on: one agony long-drawn
Was merrier than your mirth,
When hand-in-hand came death and dawn,
And spring was on the earth.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Theres Only One
Theres a thousand ways to tell you whats weighin on my mind
On this heart shaped rock at lovers peak above the city lights
I take off my jacket, put it around you and watch you close your eyes
Your hand feels so warm like your breath on my face
These words that I have been holdin back
Have found the perfect time and place
Theres only one, wish I make each time I see a falling star
Theres only one, place I wanna be and that is where you are
Theres only one, man in this world who can love you like I do
You know we only get one life, and I wanna spend mine with you
One
Through the silence all I hear is one dry autumn leaf
Falling like my careful heart, then landing at your feet
I clear my nervous throat, sit here and hope and pray where this will lead
Once in every lifetime someone comes along
I guess Im trying to say that someones you, and I know where I belong
Theres only one, thing thats missin that will make my life complete
Theres only one, time with all my heart Ive known whats meant to be
Theres only one, man in this world who can love you like I do
You know we only get one life, and I wanna spend mine with you
One
It feels like more than just the moon is shinin down on us
And the tears in your smile say you love me as much
Theres only one kiss I long to feel my lips at night
Theres only one body that I want to hold until I die
Theres only one soul Ive ever really felt connected to
You know we only get one life and I wanna spend mine with you
Theres only one, wish I can make each time I see a falling star
Theres only one, place I wanna be and that is where you are
Theres only one, man in this world who can love you like I do
You know we only get one life
And I wanna spend mine with you, theres only one
song performed by by Yankee Grey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Theres Only One
Theres a thousand ways to tell you whats weighin on my mind
On this heart shaped rock at lovers peak above the city lights
I take off my jacket, put it around you and watch you close your eyes
Your hand feels so warm like your breath on my face
These words that I have been holdin back
Have found the perfect time and place
Theres only one, wish I make each time I see a falling star
Theres only one, place I wanna be and that is where you are
Theres only one, man in this world who can love you like I do
You know we only get one life, and I wanna spend mine with you
One
Through the silence all I hear is one dry autumn leaf
Falling like my careful heart, then landing at your feet
I clear my nervous throat, sit here and hope and pray where this will lead
Once in every lifetime someone comes along
I guess Im trying to say that someones you, and I know where I belong
Theres only one, thing thats missin that will make my life complete
Theres only one, time with all my heart Ive known whats meant to be
Theres only one, man in this world who can love you like I do
You know we only get one life, and I wanna spend mine with you
One
It feels like more than just the moon is shinin down on us
And the tears in your smile say you love me as much
Theres only one kiss I long to feel my lips at night
Theres only one body that I want to hold until I die
Theres only one soul Ive ever really felt connected to
You know we only get one life and I wanna spend mine with you
Theres only one, wish I can make each time I see a falling star
Theres only one, place I wanna be and that is where you are
Theres only one, man in this world who can love you like I do
You know we only get one life
And I wanna spend mine with you, theres only one
song performed by by Yankee Grey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ocean To Cynthia
But stay, my thoughts, make end, give fortune way ;
Harsh is the voice of woe and sorrow's sound ;
Complaints cure not, and tears do but allay
Griefs for a time, which after more abound.
To seek for moisture in the Arabian sand
Is but a loss of labor and of rest ;
The links which time did break of hearty bands
Words cannot knit, or wailings make anew.
Seek not the sun in clouds when it is set.
On highest mountains, where those cedars grew,
Against whose banks the troubled ocean beat,
And were the marks to find thy hopëd port,
Into a soil far off themselves remove ;
On Sestos' shore, Leander's late resort,
Hero hath left no lamp to guide her love.
Thou lookest for light in vain, and storms arise;
She sleeps thy death that erst thy danger sighed;
Strive then no more, bow down thy weary eyes,
Eyes which to all these woes thy heart have guided.
She is gone, she is lost, she is found, she is ever fair;
Sorrow draws weakly where love draws not too;
Woe's cries sound nothing, but only in love's ear.
Do then by dying what life cannot do.
Unfold thy flocks and leave them to the fields,
To feed on hills or dales, where likes them best,
Of what the summer or the springtime yields,
For love and time hath given thee leave to rest.
Thy heart which was their fold, now in decay
By often storms and winter's many blasts,
All torn and rent becomes misfortune's prey;
False hope, my shepherd's staff, now age hath brast.
My pipe, which love's own hand gave my desire
To sing her praises and my woe upon,
Despair hath often threatened to the fire,
As vain to keep now all the rest are gone.
Thus home I draw, as death's long night draws on;
Yet every foot, old thoughts turn back mine eyes;
Constraint me guides, as old age draws a stone
Against the hill, which over-weighty lies
For feeble arms or wasted strength to move:
My steps are backward, gazing on my loss,
My mind's affection and my soul's sole love,
Not mixed with fancy's chaff or fortune's dross.
To God I leave it, who first gave it me,
And I her gave, and she returned again,
As it was hers; so let His mercies be
Of my last comforts the essential mean.
But be it so or not, the effects are past;
Her love hath end; my woe must ever last.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
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Sonnet XXXVI: Life-In-Love
Not in thy body is thy life at all,
But in this lady's lips and hands and eyes;
Through these she yields thee life that vivifies
What else were sorrow's servant and death's thrall.
Look on thyself without her, and recall
The waste remembrance and forlorn surmise
That lived but in a dead-drawn breath of sighs
O'er vanished hours and hours eventual.
Even so much life hath the poor tress of hair
Which, stored apart, is all love hath to show
For heart-beats and for fire-heats long ago;
Even so much life endures unknown, even where,
'Mid change the changeless night environeth,
Lies all that golden hair undimmed in death.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Sonnet XXXVI: Life-In-Love
Not in thy body is thy life at all,
But in this lady's lips and hands and eyes;
Through these she yields thee life that vivifies
What else were sorrow's servant and death's thrall.
Look on thyself without her, and recall
The waste remembrance and forlorn surmise
That lived but in a dead-drawn breath of sighs
O'er vanished hours and hours eventual.
Even so much life hath the poor tress of hair
Which, stored apart, is all love hath to show
For heart-beats and for fire-heats long ago;
Even so much life endures unknown, even where,
'Mid change the changeless night environeth,
Lies all that golden hair undimmed in death.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Permission
Love has splendid arrows in it's quiver
none greater than mine for you.
No heart has strained toward
devotion more
than mine given.
You have been for me
Loves Only,
and by your side
my heart breathes.
To go away from me
is unthinkable.
But you will I know;
cancer-stricken
say your brave goodbye
and go as you always have
unfeelingly
or so
it seemed to me.
And I am always
at odds
with the love I give
and the strength you show
even as you lie
dying
I am asking even now
another permission-
to love
as you move on-
and for you to permission me
to love another
yet to come.
Say the words:
'Love's Released
move on.'
But you will not.
I,
I am still giving
at Death's Bed
hoping you'll grant me new life
and a new breath
co-mingled with yours
here now
last taken.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Image worship
Why mounts my blood to cheek and brow,
Like an ascending flame,
Whene'er from careless lips I hear
The accents of thy name?
Why, when my idle fancy seeks
Some pictured form to trace,
Beneath my pencil still will grow
The features of thy face?
Why comes thy haunting shadow thus
Between the world and me,
To bind my spirit with a charm
That blinds to all but thee?
To bid me watch thine upward course,
Thy path from mine so far;
As earth, 'mid all the hosts of heaven,
Watches the polar star?
Thy cold and polished courtesy,
Each look and tone of thine,
Might well have roused the woman's pride
In duller souls than mine.
They tell me, too, thy heart is light, --
That more than once thou'st loved;
And 'mid all flowers of loveliness
That bee-like thou hast roved.
Why is it, then, while o'er thy heart
There comes no thought of me,
The good, the true, the beautiful,
All speak to me of thee?
Think'st thou 'tis what the world calls love,
Love that return is seeking?
No -- I would scorn a love I sought,
Although my heart were breaking.
It is because within the human heart
There is an altar to an Unknown God,
Who from the gods of this world dwells apart,
And in the Unseen, the Unreal, has his abode.
This disembodied thought the soul pursues,
And seeking in the visible a sign,
She moulds an image, like the apostate Jews,
And sets her idol on the vacant shrine.
Thus worshipped once an Indian maid the sun;
Thus was an Arab boy won by a star;
Thus loved a maid of France the god in stone;
And thus did Numa love a shape of air.
What were the sun, the star, the god, to them,
The fond idolators! thou art to me;
And rapturous as a poet's earliest dream,
Is the sweet worship that I give to thee.
The world around me is so dark and cold,
Life hath for me such draughts of bitter sadness,
Oh, bid me not the mocking Real behold!
Oh, wake me not from this delicious madness!
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Beggar's Valentine
Kiss me and comfort my heart
Maiden honest and fine.
I am the pilgrim boy
Lame, but hunting the shrine;
Fleeing away from the sweets,
Seeking the dust and rain,
Sworn to the staff and road,
Scorning pleasure and pain;
Nevertheless my mouth
Would rest like a bird an hour
And find in your curls a nest
And find in your breast a bower:
Nevertheless my eyes
Would lose themselves in your own,
Rivers that seek the sea,
Angels before the throne:
Kiss me and comfort my heart,
For love can never be mine:
Passion, hunger and pain,
These are the only wine
Of the pilgrim bound to the road.
He would rob no man of his own.
Your heart is another's I know,
Your honor is his alone.
The feasts of a long drawn love,
The feasts of a wedded life,
The harvests of patient years,
And hearthstone and children and wife:
These are your lords I know.
These can never be mine —
This is the price I pay
For the foolish search for the shrine:
This is the price I pay
For the joy of my midnight prayers,
Kneeling beneath the moon
With hills for my altar stairs;
This is the price I pay
For the throb of the mystic wings,
When the dove of God comes down
And beats round my heart and sings;
This is the price I pay
For the light I shall some day see
At the ends of the infinite earth
When truth shall come to me.
And what if my body die
Before I meet the truth?
The road is dear, more dear
Than love or life or youth.
The road, it is the road,
Mystical, endless, kind,
Mother of visions vast,
Mother of soul and mind;
Mother of all of me
But the blood that cries for a mate —
That cries for a farewell kiss
From the child of God at the gate.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Urania's Lover.
O poet, thou art called to tread her ways,
Hers, mistress of the soul, Urania fair.
(Ah God! how fair, how all adorable,
But those who have wooed her can tell!)
All of thy nights and days,
All of thy light and air,
Hers only, so thy soul shall haply win
Grace in those eyes
That goddess-wise
Smile in that heaven man's highest have enter'd in.
Thou'rt called to Love's high hest, soul-wooer thou
Of the divinest beauty man may know —
Soul-wooer and soul-winner, so thy feet
Fail not nor falter, so earth's cheat
Clip not thy burning brow
With its chill wreath, and so
Darken the heavenly light within the brain;
But let thy forehead be
Starred with pure poesy,
So thou to her high mystery attain.
Thy love a Goddess and her heaven thy home!
By the ethereal beauty in those eyes,
O poet! bless the loss of all things here
So but thy soul in that fine sphere,
Beloved of her, may roam
No more with wandering cries —
At last may bow before her face, and be,
Though woman-born, divine,
When all of hers is thine,
And thou a star of God's ascendency.
Ah! through that heaven shall not the wonder trail
Of thy first worship, like a comet's hair
Leagues on leagues floating from the flying star?
Shall not thy first faint steps afar
Move like a being pale
Amid the glory there
Up to the voiceless beauty of her brow,
As thou dost see, as 'twere,
Thy whole life with her there —
See from that height the depth where thou art now?
poem by Robert Crawford
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This Old Heart Of Mine
Sylvia moy, brian holland, edward holland, jr. and lamont dozier
Oh, this old heart of mine
Been broke a thousand times
Each time you break away
I feel you're gonna stay
Lonely nights that come
Memories that flow
Bringing you back again
Hurting me more and more
Maybe it's my mistake to show this love i feel inside
Cause each day that passes by
You got me never knowing if i'm coming or going, but i
I love you
This old heart darling (darling) weeps for you
I love you, yes i do (yes i do)
These old arms of mine
Miss having you around
Makes these tears inside
Start falling down, well
Always with half a kiss
You remind me of what i miss
So i try to control myself
Like i'm gonna start fainting cause my heart stops beating, cause i
I love you
This old heart darling weeps for you (weeps for you)
I love you, yes i do (yes i do)
Oh i try to hide my hurt inside
This old heart of mine always makes me cry
The way you trat me leaves me incomplete
You're in for the day, gone for the week, now
But if you leave me a hundred times
A hundred times i'll take you back
I'm yours whenever you want me
I'm not too proud to shout it
To tell the world about it, cause i
I love you
This old heart darling (darling) weeps for you
I love you
This old heart darling weeps for you (weeps for you)
I love you
This old heart darling (darling) weeps for you
I love you, yes i do (yes i do)
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mothers Day2007
She hath my heart, she is my mum.
She hath my heart, she is my only, she is my one.
She hath my heart, though rough winds may blow.
She hath my heart, still her love will flow, her love will always show.
She hath my heart, I thank my lucky stars.
She hath my heart and i have hers.
She hath my heart, i long for her presence.
She hath my heart, her name is essence.
She hath my heart and forever she will.
Lifetimes will come and go, i will love her still
She hath my heart, this fact i cant conceal
Our bond is like sentiment you just cant kill
She hath my heart in times of sorrow.
She hath my heart, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
She hath my heart, my voice will sing.
She hath my heart, she makes the bell in my heart ring.
She hath my heart, in times of trouble.
She wont stumble no i will not let her crumble.
She hath my heart in each and every way
And my love for her grows with each day
She hath my heart for we were once one.
She hath my heart, the heart of the boy inside the man
I hath her heart, the heart we once shared.
Though separated in body the hearts still paired.
She hath my heart i need her near.
She hath my heart my mama dear
She hath my heart and she already knows
In a world of thorny bushes she stands out like rose
She hath my heart for she is always by my side
When the sun sets she is my light, she is my guide.
poem by Soul Child
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Life Is Eternal
(carly simon/teesa gohl)
Ive been doing a lot of thinking
About growing older and moving on
Nobody wants to be told that theyre getting on
For a long, long stay
But just how long and who knows
And how and where my spirit will go
Will it soar like jazz on a saxophone
Or evaporate on a breeze
Wont you tell me please
That life is eternal
And love is immortal
And death is only a horizon
Life is eternal
As we move into the light
And a horizon is nothing
Save the limit of our sight
Save the limit of our sight
Here on earth Im a lost soul
Ever trying to find my way back home
Maybe thats why each new star is born
Expanding heavens room
Eternity in bloom
And will I see you up in that heaven
In all its light will I know youre there
Will we say the things that we never dared
If wishing makes it so
Wont you let me know
That life is eternal
And love is immortal
And death is only a horizon
Life is eternal
As we move into the light
And a horizon is nothing
Save the limit of our sight
Save the limit of our sight
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maui Victor
Unhewn in quarry lay the Parian stone,
Ere hands, god-guided, of Praxiteles
Might shape the Cnidian Venus. Long ungrown
The ivory was which, chiselled, robbed of ease
Pygmalion, sculptor-lover. Now are these,
The stone and ivory, immortal made.
The golden apples of Hesperides
Shall never, scattered, in blown dust be laid,
Till Time, the dragon-guard, has lived his last decade.
The Cnidian Venus, Galatea's shape,
A wondering world beheld, as we behold, --
Here, in blest isles beyond the stormy Cape,
Where man the new land dowers with the old,
Are neither marble shapes nor fruits of gold,
Nor white-limbed maidens, queened enchantress-wise;
Here, Nature's beauties no vast ruins enfold,
No glamour fills her such as 'wildering lies
Where Mediterranean waters laugh to Grecian skies.
Acropolis with figure group and frieze,
Parthenon, Temple, concepts born divine,
Where in these Isles are wonders great as these?
Unquarried lies the stone in teeming mine,
Bare is the land of sanctuary and shrine;
But though frail hands no god-like record set
Great Nature's powers are lavish, and combine
In mountain dome, ice-glancing minaret,
Deep fiord, fiery fountain and lake with tree-wove carcanet.
And though the dusky race that to and fro,
Like their own shades, pass by and leave no trace,
No age-contemning works from quick brain throw,
They still have left what Time shall not efface, --
The legends of an isolated race.
Not vainly Maui strove; no, not in vain
He dared the old Mother of Death and her embrace:
That mankind might go free, he suffered pain --
And death he boldly dared, eternal life to gain.
Not death but dormancy the old womb has known,
New love shall quicken it, new life attain:
These legends old in ivory and stone
Shall live their recreated life again, --
Shall wake, like Galatea, to joy and pain.
Legends and myths and wonders; what are these
But glittering mines that long unworked have lain?
A Homer shall unlock with magic keys
Treasure for some antipodean Praxiteles!
poem by Johannes Carl Andersen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Corydon's Farewell To Phillis
Farewell, dear love; since thou wilt needs be gone,
Mine eyes do shew, my life is almost done.
Nay I will never die, so long as I can spie
There be many mo, though that she doe goe,
There be many mo, I fear not:
Why then let her goe, I care not.
Farewell, farewell; since this I find is true,
I will not spend more time in wooing you;
But I will seek elsewhere, if I may find love there.
Shall I bid her goe? what and if I doe?
Shall I bid her goe and spare not?
O no, no, no, I dare not.
Ten thousand times farewell; - yet stay a while: -
Sweet, kiss me once; sweet kisses time beguile.
I have no power to move. How now am I in love?
Wilt thou needs be gone? Go then, all is one.
Wilt thou needs be gone? Oh, hie thee!
Nay stay, and do no more deny me.
Once more adieu, I see loath to depart
Bids oft adieu to her, that holds my heart.
But seeing I must love thy love, which I did choose,
Goe thy way for me, since that may not be.
Goe thy ways for me. But whither?
Goe, oh, but where I may come thither.
What shall I doe? my love is now departed.
She is as fair, as she is cruel-hearted.
She would not be intreated, with prayers oft repeated;
If she come no more, shall I die therefore?
If she come no more, what care I?
Faith, let her goe, or come, or tarry.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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