Related quotes: Sweet notes which fill my...

Melodious Delight

Sweet notes which fill my ears with song,
And gently revolve around my head,
Propel my heart and soul along,
The way of happiness to tread.

With rhythmic steps I travel on,
Devouring melodious delight,
All senses keen, reality gone,
What moods these harmonies excite.

Like drifting off on clouds of white,
Leaving this world and all its woe,
As if one is a high evasive kite,
Launched by all the winds that blow.

Sweet notes which fill my ears with song,
Continue to enhance this charm,
As I, with hope, yearn to prolong,
Such true feelings of ambience, and calm.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Related quotes

Sweet Love Song

i hurd a sweet love song
so sweet to my ears
so strong to my heart
i had to fine out where it was comming from
i let my heart lead me to the start of the song
i let my ears get lost in the melody
flowing with the notes
losing my breath with every beat
the sweet love song was getting louder to my ears
the sweet love song was getting stronger to my heart
getting closer to you
getting closer to your love
right by your side
i open my eyes and see your sweet face
still hearing your sweet love song
smiling at you
as you hear my sweet love song
smiling at you
as you fall in love with the beat of my heart....

poem by Sarah May
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A Madrigal: Song For Nectaria

O sweet Nectaria, keep a song to sing.
And fill your mind with thoughts that make you sigh,
while in your heart are hopes that rise sky high.

Should August's stormy days, their strong winds bring,
or darkest clouds would hide the sun and sky,
love finds you, if you keep a song to sing,
and fill your mind with thoughts that make you sigh.

Then, when Autumn left no more leaves to cling.
And songbirds search for nests where else to fly,
Never think this will be your time to cry.
But mark, to always keep a song to sing.
And fill your mind with thoughts that make you sigh,
while in your heart are hopes that rise sky high.

poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Eight Years Old

SUN, whom the faltering snow-cloud fears,
Rise, let the time of year be May,
Speak now the word that April hears,
Let March have all his royal way;
Bid all spring raise in winter’s ears
All tunes her children hear or play,
Because the crown of eight glad years
On one bright head is set to-day.

II.

What matters cloud or sun to-day
To him who wears the wreath of years
So many, and all like flowers at play
With wind and sunshine, while his ears
Hear only song on every way?
More sweet than spring triumphant hears
Ring through the revel-rout of May
Are these, the notes that winter fears.

III.

Strong-hearted winter knows and fears
The music made of love at play,
Or haply loves the tune he hears
From hearts fulfilled with flowering May,
Whose molten music thaws his ears
Late frozen, deaf but yesterday
To sounds of dying and dawning years,
Now quickened on his deathward way.

IV.

For deathward now lies winter’s way
Down the green vestibule of years
That each year brightens day by day
With flower and shower till hope scarce fears
And fear grows wholly hope of May.
But we—the music in our ears
Made of love’s pulses as they play
The heart alone that makes it hears.

The heart it is that plays and hears
High salutation of to-day.
Tongue falters, hand shrinks back, song fears
Its own unworthiness to play
Fit music for those eight sweet years,
Or sing their blithe accomplished way.
No song quite worth a young child’s ears
Broke ever even from birds in May.

VI.

There beats not in the heart of May,
When summer hopes and springtide fears,
There falls not from the height of day,
When sunlight speaks and silence hears,
So sweet a psalm as children play
And sing, each hour of all their years,
Each moment of their lovely way,
And know not how it thrills our ears.

VII.

Ah child, what are we, that our ears
Should hear you singing on your way,
Should have this happiness? The years
Whose hurrying wings about us play
Are not like yours, whose flower-time fears
Nought worse than sunlit showers in May,
Being sinless as the spring, that hears
Her own heart praise her every day.

VIII.

Yet we too triumph in the day
That bare, to entrance our eyes and ears,
To lighten daylight, and to play
Such notes as darkness knows and fears,
The child whose face illumes our way,
Whose voice lifts up the heart that hears,
Whose hand is as the hand of May
To bring us flowers from eight full years.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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How Do We Write Happiness?

hair blown by the wind the two of us in the morning meadows
laughing and light as the air that carries us to the sea
you hold my hand you lead me you pull the kite with you
colors of blue and white spreading in the skies
you tie the kite on a tree and we lay ourselves on the grass
softness is you and my heart beats the notes of our love song
we sit side by side we feel we own this wide world
we hear the birds sing we listen to the flow of the river
we see how free are the fish riding on the currents

we look at each other's eyes, then we by instinct close
what was once open, we go inside us, gently our lips touch

there is so much color when our eyes closed
it tastes so sweet that our souls are like tongues licking
the sweetest honey on our skins on our whole bodies

we write happiness not in the usual words that they use
the ink is invisible the pen moves not with the hand but

with the heart with the soul

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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360

we look at each other's eyes, then we by instinct close
what was once open, we go inside us, gently our lips touch

there is so much color when our eyes closed
it tastes so sweet that our souls are like tongues licking
the sweetest honey on our skins on our whole bodies

we write happiness not in the usual words that they use
the ink is invisible the pen moves not with the hand but

with the heart with the soul

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The stolen waves of music of love..

The eternal music of love that enters my ears,
Has no shape, but can be heard, a formless mare,
Travel through the air to hit my ear drum,
The Mind understands the music and the rhythm,
The hands beat the surface to count the frequency,
The legs start to take the steps in urgency,
The pirated notes are nowhere to be found,
The stolen waves are gone with the wind,
The gentle music still plays in the head,
The feelings travel from the heart to the head,
The pounding heart blackmails the fluid,
The threatened fluid runs to convey the message,
Musical notes yield the weapon to that passage,
The body is in the state of ecstasy,
The drum and the mind are in harmony.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Cosmic Orchestra

With the break of dawning day,
The feathered folks greet the world,
In resonant notes of alluring songs,
They fill the hearts with rapturous glee.

Far or near a church bell sings,
Vibrant notes of chiming verse,
It floats around in rambling waves,
Urging the world to wake and work.

On fluttering wings the gentle breeze,
Comes down, to tickle the tender leaves,
Together do they sing and dance,
In delightful chorus to thrill the hearts.

Later sometime the falling rain,
Sings a song in rhythmic notes,
With rising strains and falling lilts,
The music goes on high and low.

Far away from mountain slopes,
Flow down, narrow glistening streams,
Spiralling over pebbles and rocks,
They muse a melody so sweet to hear.

As the setting Sun in Western sky,
Paints the clouds in crimson shades,
‘The frayed nerves' stroll to the beach,
To feast on the song of surging waves.

When darkness spreads and wraps the earth,
Beasts and birds - they together sing,
The Grand Finale to the Great Concert,
Played in league with the Cosmic Band.

Music hides in every heart,
Its celestial strains nourish the lives,
Tune it right with prudent care,
Lest it die in the cacophony of sounds.

poem by Valsa George
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Life Is Like A Beautiful Song

Life is like a beautiful song
It starts with melodious imagination
Of letters, notes, and tone
then put together, so sweet into song
And as the song goes on,
It flows and flows so softly in tune
But however beautiful the song might be,
It will end like a day
Go shorter..
Then lower..

poem by DanJosh Zeus
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Ballad of Joe and Satchong

There's a lady from the orient sea
Such winsome lady and lovely
With her voice so sweet to hear
Melodious within the wind zephyr

A sweet rhythmic sound like a song
A pleasing tune of such song
That enchanted this fellow
And made his heart glow

Ah - lovely voice, said Joe
That encourage him to go
Or search for that voice
That makes his heart rejoice

He followed the gentle breeze
Across Atlantic and Pacific seas
As the ocean waves and rolls
He goes on with the gentle breeze with goals

In the air is the song for Joe
That makes his heart glow
And search that voice
That makes his soul rejoice

So within the breeze is the song
Said Joe, Oh what a lovely song
And so melodious voice
That makes my heart rejoice

He continue to follow gentle breeze
Across Atlantic and Pacific seas
There in the orient sea he found that such song
is from the lovely lady named Satchong

With the little winged Cherubim
Coveted them and their love woven
Their love are like in the air
Life like the gentle wind zephyr

'til now their love so sweet like a song
With this couple Joe and Satchong
So blessed with bright lifetime
So solid maybe until the end of time

poem by Ency Bearis
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Drifting Along

Nowhere to go
But I'll still be cruising
I live this life long
Long long time

You know I'm drifting along (drifting along)
Can't see where I am going
I will get to my destination

I'm feeling the pressure (pressure)
All around me crumble (man now)
But I won't be put down this time

I'm shifting along
Though I sing a sweet song (sweet song)
We'll murder in the streets where I be livin'

I'm closing my eyes (closing my eyes)
Don't want to see killin'
Gentle giants will roam forever

I'm cruising the street
Wondering who I will meet
Oh love has got to reign in our world

La la la la
La la la la la la
I don't know where I am going to (I don't know where I am going to)

La la la la
La la la la la la
I don't know where I am going to
Drifting along

Drifting along
Closing up my ears to the sound
I don't want to hear

song performed by by Jamiroquai
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Songstress of Night

Hear the cherished songstress of night
Flying with stars shining bright
And within the moon's path
She flys, throughout my nights
Alight and sing sweet melody
And beautiful notes shall fill my ears
She is a minstrel of delight

Oh, sweet nightingale of the air
Rendering solace after despair
Awaiting my return after a days turn
Enlacing lyric in the breath of twilight
And silent she sits with day's anew
My vision, when I'm without sight
She's my cherished songstress of night

poem by Ron Pate
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Evensong

It is late, on a cold, dark, wintry afternoon;
Up high in a tree, a small bird merrily croons.
Trade in the town, has now begun to wind down,
And taking centre stage, is the bird’s sweet sound.

Like an operatic singer, his voice soars high,
And his song delights many, as they pass by.
Your ears can not help, but hear his loud call,
As the sun, once again, sets and darkness falls.

He sings for joy, at the very top of his voice;
To listen to his song, you have little choice.
He sits at the very top of the tallest tree,
Singing so loudly; his heart full of glee.

His plaintive call pierces the cool air,
As he sings his song, without a care.
A pure quality, his sweet song holds,
And he sings it out, so bright and bold.

His singsong attracts many a nice comment;
His performance appears to be Heaven sent.
Of his captivated audience, he is unaware;
His song boasts beauty, beyond compare.

Like a church choir, as they sing evensong,
This small bird sings so very keen and strong.
Through the dark streets, home, I wearily wind;
Sad to be leaving the bird’s sweet song behind.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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The Night Dance

Strike the gay harp! see the moon is on high,
And, as true to her beam as the tides of the ocean,
Young hearts, when they feel the soft light of her eye,
Obey the mute call, and heave into motion.
Then, sound notes -- the gayest, the lightest,
That ever took wing, when heaven look'd brightest
Again! Again!
Oh! could such heart-stirring music be heard
In that City of Statues described by romancers,
So wakening its spell, even stone would be stirr'd,
And statues themselves all start into dancers!

Why then delay, with such sounds in our ears,
And the flower of Beauty's own garden before us --
While stars overhead leave the song of their spheres,
And, listening to ours, hang wondering o'er us?
Again, that strain! -- to hear it thus sounding
Might set even Death's cold pulses bounding --
Again! Again!
Oh, what delight when the youthful and gay
Each with eye like a sunbeam and foot like a feather,
Thus dance, like the Hours to the music of May,
And mingle sweet song and sunshine together.

poem by Thomas Moore
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My Legacy

My friend has gone away from me
From shadow into perfect light,
But leaving a sweet legacy.

My heart shall hold it long in fee
A grand ideal, calm and bright,
A song of hope for ministry,

A faith of unstained purity,
A thought of beauty for delight
These did my friend bequeath to me;

And, more than even these can be,
The worthy pattern of a white,
Unmarred life lived most graciously.

Dear comrade, loyal thanks to thee
Who now hath fared beyond my sight,
My friend has gone away from me,
But leaving a sweet legacy.

poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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A Divine Pastorall

Strephon & I upon a bank were laid,
Where the gay spring in varied colours playd,
& her rich odours lavish nature shed.
When thus the Youth, while this we wondring view
Can we but wonder at its maker too,
Amintas, if I know him, did not use
Shoud such a subject call, to want a muse,
Oh sing the great, the wise creating powr,
While silent I admire, & in your words adore.
Then I, for long before the thought was mine,
Did thus to meet the good demand begin.

Ye Mountains, & ye hills which lower rise,
Ye humble vallies, & ye spreading trees,
Ye pleasant meadows, & thou easy stream,
O praise the Lord, O magnify his name!
Yes, as you can you tell his name abroad,
The wondrous work proclaims the worker God.
Gently awhile sweet Breezes move along,
Then swiftly bear aloft my finisht song.

Ye tame & savage beasts in one accord,
Joyn with all these to Glorify the Lord;
Ye Birds, Ye tunefull birds in him rejoyce,
Give him your musick, who gave you your voice,
Hark how the cheerfull labour of their throats,
returns the tribute of their pretty notes.
Gently awhile sweet Breezes move along,
Then swiftly bear aloft my rising song.

But still the earth, & still the seas are mute,
The Birds are speechless, speechless is the Brute,
Man that alone can speak his praise must doo't.
Praise him O man with a transported heart,
Let the melodious hand confess its art,
Let the raisd voice his bounteous glory's sing,
Shoud less be joynd to praise so great a King?
Gently awhile sweet Breezes move along,
Then swiftly bear aloft my rising song.

For thee the seasons run the circling year,
The clouds drop fatness, & the fruits appear,
Thee as the Lord of all below he plac'd,
Free in thy choice, & by thy chusing bless'd,
Tis true we must account for all we do,
But to a God alone th' account is due.
Gently awhile sweet Breezes move along,
Then swiftly bear aloft my rising song.

The Seraphim, & all the Heavenly pow'r,
Bright in their shapes, but in their virtues more,
Came to the shade where our first parents lay,
They heard him reason, & they heard her pray,
Then struck their Golden harps, & as they flew,
Cry'd, Halelujah, man is made for heaven too.
Go on, my Muse, Go on, & Gratefully express,
The Creatures thanks, in the Creators praise.

To see this pair the fallen powrs came in,
Torturd with malice, & deformd by sin,
They saw this happy pair designd to fill
The realms, from whence they fell by doing ill,
They heard their Joyfull anthems to their God,
& faign they woud have harmd ym if they coud,
Whom they woud harm they impotently curse,
Their strength indeed was great but God was ours.
Go on, My Muse, Go on, & Gratefully express.
The Creatures thanks, in the Creators praise.

I know I cannot speak his mercy's through,
Yet what I can, of what I ought Ile do,
Mean as they are, my notes to him belong,
Mean as it is, he will reward my song.
Go on, my Muse go on, & gratefully express
The Creatures thanks, in the Creators praise.

On such a theam I coud for ever dwell,
Thus lett my voice when I must perish fail
& thus my monument my story tell;
Here lyes a Youth—stay passenger & pray,
Nor pitty him who di'd no common way,
But when his breath was all in hymns bestowd
Sent up his soul to bear 'em to his God.

So lett me end, the twilight does appear,
The heat has left to rarify the air,
The winds it broke grow strong enough to fly,
Yes swiftly fly ye winds, & bear my Lays on high.

poem by Thomas Parnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Winter's Song

I was scooting through the blind white streets
A song, the song, whispered in my ears
The song of winter, of joy and fears
Frozen stiff where sanity retreats

The snow blew, as blizzard winds ought to
Abreast my face, chiseling with might
So there I howled at the moon’s delight
Ignoring the child sledding through

My next steps teetered toward minty moors
Though I found a dear, I chased my hart
Through a wicked twisting trail apart
From dear tidings due from you and yours

Here I did learn what it means to roam
Then turned and hummed winter’s song back home

poem by Jay Bradley
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Wild Flowers Of Australia

Oh say not that no perfume dwells;
The wilding flowers among,
Say not that in the forest dells
Is heard no voice of song.

The air is laden with the scent
Borne from the clustering flower,
With which the wattle is besprent;
Like Danae’s golden shower.

And silv’ry wattles bending low,
Sweet incense scatter far—
When night-winds kiss the pensile bough,
Beneath the evening star.

And there are flowers of varying dye;
Now white, now blushing red,
Their beauteous blossoms charm the eye,
And fragrant odours shed.

There’s perfume breath’d from Austral flowers,—
And melody is there
Not such as in far Albion’s bowers
Falls on th’ accustom’d ear.

But thrilling snatches of wild song,
Pour’d forth from lonely glen—
Where winds the hidden creek along
Far from the haunts of men.

And hoarser notes in wild woods heard
Sound like strange harmonies,
As flashes past the bright-winged bird
Gleaming in azure skies.

Then say not that no perfume dwells,
The wilding flowers among;
Say not that in the forest dells
Is heard no voice of song!

poem by Caroline Carleton
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Alankar (Decor) -6

I Want To Sing A Song

I want to sing a song
For long my wish on skies..
So high so far so sweet
So sweet my song so makes
And takes on notes me soar
Me soar to moon and stars
To stars and moon my notes

Happy going going
Going godly tuning
Tuning moving scaling
Scaling music tonic
Tonic songful soulful
Soulful spaceward tuneful
Harken, follow would you..

You sing you sing a song
A song so strong to gong
To gong in tune with mine
So mine and yours to sing
To sing the moon and stars
The stars and moon in tune
In tune with us so high

poem by Indira Renganathan
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I Have Loved Flowers That Fade

I have loved flowers that fade,
Within whose magic tents
Rich hues have marriage made
With sweet unmemoried scents:
A honeymoon delight-
A joy of love at sight,
That ages in an hour-
My song be like a flower!

I have loved airs that die
Before their charm is writ
Along a liquid sky
Trembling to welcome it.
Notes, that with pulse of fire
Proclaim the spirit's desire,
Then die, and are nowhere-
My song be like an air!

Die, song, die like a breath,
And wither as a bloom;
Fear not a flowery death,
Dread not an airy tomb!
Fly with delight, fly hence!
'Twas thine love's tender sense
To feast; now on thy bier
Beauty shall shed a tear.

poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
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Dedication To Christina G. Rossetti

Songs light as these may sound, though deep and strong
The heart spake through them, scarce should hope to please
Ears tuned to strains of loftier thoughts than throng
Songs light as these.

Yet grace may set their sometime doubt at ease,
Nor need their too rash reverence fear to wrong
The shrine it serves at and the hope it sees.

For childlike loves and laughters thence prolong
Notes that bid enter, fearless as the breeze,
Even to the shrine of holiest-hearted song,
Songs light as these.