The stork
Last night the Stork came stalking,
And, Stork, beneath your wing
Lay, lapped in dreamless slumber,
The tiniest little thing!
From Babyland, out yonder
Beside a silver sea,
You brought a priceless treasure
As gift to mine and me!
Last night my dear one listened -
And, wife, you knew the cry -
The dear old Stork has sought our home
A many times gone by!
And in your gentle bosom
I found the pretty thing
That from the realm out yonder
Our friend the Stork did bring.
Last night a babe awakened,
And, babe, how strange and new
Must seem the home and people
The Stork has brought you to;
And yet methinks you like them -
You neither stare nor weep,
But closer to my dear one
You cuddle, and you sleep!
Last night my heart grew fonder -
0 happy heart of mine,
Sing of the inspirations
That round my pathway shine!
And sing your sweetest love-song
To this dear nestling wee
The Stork from 'Way-Out-Yonder
Hath brought to mine and me!
poem by Eugene Field
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Related quotes
To The Stork. (Armenian Popular Song, From The Prose Version Of Alishan)
Welcome, O Stork! that dost wing
Thy flight from the far-away!
Thou hast brought us the signs of Spring,
Thou hast made our sad hearts gay.
Descend, O Stork! descend
Upon our roof to rest;
In our ash-tree, O my friend,
My darling, make thy nest.
To thee, O Stork, I complain,
O Stork, to thee I impart
The thousand sorrows, the pain
And aching of my heart.
When thou away didst go,
Away from this tree of ours,
The withering winds did blow,
And dried up all the flowers.
Dark grew the brilliant sky,
Cloudy and dark and drear;
They were breaking the snow on high,
And winter was drawing near.
From Varaca's rocky wall,
From the rock of Varaca unrolled,
the snow came and covered all,
And the green meadow was cold.
O Stork, our garden with snow
Was hidden away and lost,
Mid the rose-trees that in it grow
Were withered by snow and frost.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Cobbler and Stork
COBBLER
Stork, I am justly wroth,
For thou hast wronged me sore;
The ash roof-tree that shelters thee
Shall shelter thee no more!
STORK
Full fifty years I 've dwelt
Upon this honest tree,
And long ago (as people know!)
I brought thy father thee.
What hail hath chilled thy heart,
That thou shouldst bid me go?
Speak out, I pray--then I 'll away,
Since thou commandest so.
COBBLER
Thou tellest of the time
When, wheeling from the west,
This hut thou sought'st and one thou brought'st
Unto a mother's breast.
I was the wretched child
Was fetched that dismal morn--
'T were better die than be (as I)
To life of misery born!
And hadst thou borne me on
Still farther up the town,
A king I 'd be of high degree,
And wear a golden crown!
For yonder lives the prince
Was brought that selfsame day:
How happy he, while--look at me!
I toil my life away!
And see my little boy--
To what estate he 's born!
Why, when I die no hoard leave I
But poverty and scorn.
And thou hast done it all--
I might have been a king
And ruled in state, but for thy hate,
Thou base, perfidious thing!
STORK
Since, cobbler, thou dost speak
Of one thou lovest well,
Hear of that king what grievous thing
This very morn befell.
Whilst round thy homely bench
Thy well-belovèd played,
In yonder hall beneath a pall
A little one was laid;
Thy well-belovèd's face
Was rosy with delight,
But 'neath that pall in yonder hall
The little face is white;
Whilst by a merry voice
Thy soul is filled with cheer,
Another weeps for one that sleeps
All mute and cold anear;
One father hath his hope,
And one is childless now:
He wears a crown and rules a town--
Only a cobbler thou!
Wouldst thou exchange thy lot
At price of such a woe?
I'll nest no more above thy door,
But, as thou bidst me, go.
COBBLER
Nay, stork! thou shalt remain--
I mean not what I said;
Good neighbors we must always be.
So make thy home o'erhead.
I would not change my bench
For any monarch's throne,
Nor sacrifice at any price
My darling and my own!
Stork! on my roof-tree bide,
That, seeing thee anear,
I 'll thankful be God sent by thee
Me and my darling here!
poem by Eugene Field
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Tit For Tat
The fox and the stork
Played the game of
Tit for tat
And lost both in the play
The fox and the stork
Are with us
And our thought is
We are the winner.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Armenian Folk-Song--The Stork
Welcome, O truant stork!
And where have you been so long?
And do you bring that grace of spring
That filleth my heart with song?
Descend upon my roof--
Bide on this ash content;
I would have you know what cruel woe
Befell me when you went.
All up in the moody sky
(A shifting threat o'er head!)
They were breaking the snow and bidding it go
Cover the beautiful dead.
Came snow on garden spot,
Came snow on mere and wold,
Came the withering breath of white robed death,
And the once warm earth was cold.
Stork, the tender rose tree,
That bloometh when you are here,
Trembled and sighed like a waiting bride--
Then drooped on a virgin bier.
But the brook that hath seen you come
Leaps forth with a hearty shout,
And the crocus peeps from the bed where it sleeps
To know what the noise is about.
Welcome, O honest friend!
And bide on my roof content;
For my heart would sing of the grace of spring,
When the winter of woe is spent.
poem by Eugene Field
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Stay With Me (o' Dear Heart Of Mine)
stay with me
o' dear heart
live with me
my soulheart
come with me
sit with me
talk with me
sing with me
dream with me
o' dear heart of mine
kneel with me
feel with me
smile a joy with me
pain a tear with me
frown with me
but come with me
and stay with thee
dance with me
chance with me
cleanse my heart
and stay with me
o' dear heart of mine
plan with me
journey with me
run with me
walk with me
o' dear heart of mine
brand with me
trend with me
trek with me
pray with me
thirst with me
quench with me
o' dear heart of mine
deal with me
seal with me
not steal with me
but steel with me
care with me
tenderly, humbly
o' dear heart of mine
friend with me
blend with me
mend with me
bend with me
nod with me
unto lord with me
come on board with me
o' dear heart of mine
fear not with me
as far as i see
a life to be
with you and me
o' dear heart of mine
corn with me
form with me
shape with me
tape with me
face with me
race with me
sense with me
nurse with me
o' dear heart of mine
nap with me
not a trap with me
this time
o' dear soul of mine
proud is me
rock with me
my heart
o' dear heart
of mine
map with me
wap with me
come with me
alone with me
stare with me
not to sick me
nor seek me
but stay with me
o' dear heart of mine
cross with me
boss with me
sail with me
rail with me
if i cry
cry with me
when i die
die with me
o' dear heart of mine
cold with me
fold with thee
rainbow with me
shine with me
rise with me
fall with me
stay with me
o' dear heart of mine
share
and care
with thee
o' dear heart of thine
**stay with me o' dear heart of mine** january 2012 ebook
(r) opn
(c) 09.01.2012
2159hrs
***ntema's unique poetry (nup)
(p) all rights of this piece are those of the poet.
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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The Ship
The Ship
She arrived tangled amid a hazed dew,
carrying my past, dog hound tracking,
from years back, wide vision blacking,
and a stork I was, searching her crew.
(Thus I stood on those same moorings,
her icon remained - Christmas rejoice,
it was the sea hum muzzling her voice,
so I kissed her face that was alluring!)
Like a stork I aptly stood, on one foot,
side-gazing for sunken pals to discern,
as after my nautilus care and concern,
blackened was the ship with dark soot.
Dusk was silent, abrading acta details,
still numbness; maybe the ship stared,
as my foolish and curious eyes paired,
with perseverance, head-rope 'n' brail.
Around the ship were playful tripping,
many small boats like wooden coffins,
of those loved, beyond known offings,
signalizing sea roar of moor whipping.
..............................
Holy was my ascending of the stairs,
Angels walked with me, in night blue,
like then we recited, I guess it is true,
that a night ship, for our story cares.
And then again, we became swallows,
that bladed distances, kind to Spring
a song, for wanderers, harmonic link,
an emerald color of Aegean shallows.
..............................
What mind foolish, brought the ship,
closer to our night's odd ebony phase,
with two finger-funnels to sky praise,
my meteor stand, and awkward leap?
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Dear Boy
I guess you never knew,
Dear boy, what you had found,
I guess you never knew,
Dear boy, that she was just the cutest thing around.
I guess you never knew what you had found,
Dear boy.
I stepped in, my heart was down and out,
But her love came through and brought me round,
Got me up and about.
I guess you never saw,
Dear boy, that love was there,
And maybe when you look too hard,
Dear boy, you never do become aware.
I guess you never did become aware,
Dear boy.
When I stepped in, my heart was down and out,
But her love came through and brought me round,
Got me up and about.
I hope you never know, dear boy,
How much you missed,
And even when you fall in love,
Dear boy, it wont be half as good as this
I hope you never know how much you missed, dear boy.
I stepped in, my heart was down and out,
But her love came through and brought me round,
Got me up and about.
Dear boy, how much you missed,
Dear boy.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only Me
The stork was misdirected when
I was born; I should have been
one of the titled gentlemen
with wealth approaching the obscene.
The foolish bird delivered me.
By malice or by accident
into the sort of family
not known to the establishment.
Although my instincts are refined
befitting an aristocrat.
When I grew up I was to find
my father was no plutocrat.
So I was forced to earn my crust
like any other working man.
No wide estates were held in trust.
That wretched bird fouled up the plan.
I should have been a titled man
a scion of nobility.
But one must do the best one can
although ones born to poverty
The only title I can claim
is that I am a gentleman.
I’ll never be a household name.
Though I am proud to say I can
do anything a duke can do.
Except sit in the House of Lords.
I do not think I would want to
be bound to follow their accords.
An independent gentleman
is what I am content to be.
Although the stork messed up the plan
I must accept I’m only me.
(5-Nov-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Dear Night
Dear Night,
Again me, paper and a pen
Draw the air of my soul that still flying
Dear Night,
Again me, ipod and Foo Fighters
Sing aloud 'Walking After You'
Dear Night,
Again me, sky and the wind
Paint his face among the stars
Dear Night,
Again me, feelings and thoughts
Try to find the answer who does he love
Dear Night,
Again me, vision and smell
Read his mind underneath the pain
Dear Night,
Again me, loneliness and emptiness
Beyond of his sight and sensitiveness
Dear Night,
Again me, him and us
Around uncertainty situation of impossible LOVE
poem by Ade Renny Dwi Damayanti
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Night Bring Me My Lover
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night, bring me my lover
Baby, night is sweet?
To each other thats the way we meet
I went all day for night to come
When I ? so easy
Do you want my lover, baby
Exchanging smiles and glances,
Just by to take my chances
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night, bring me my lover
Youre the living cruel
To satisfy each other, thats the loving truth
One day is all I want belong to ? baby
Thats the way I found you, lover?
Each other
Nights brought us one another
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night bring me my lover, night
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
(Im so high) Im in love tonight
(so high) I think our love is so right
(so high) ? tomorrow-morrow
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover,
Night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
The night has brought me you, ooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
And night has brought me you, ooooh
Night (bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night
(bring me my lover)
Bring me my lover, night...
song performed by by Gloria Estefan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His mother should have thrown him out and kept the stork.
His mother should have thrown him away and kept the stork.
Premonition
DEAR heart, good-night!
Nay, list awhile that sweet voice singing
When the world is all so bright,
And the sound of song sets the heart a-ringing,
Oh, love, it is not right—
Not then to say, 'Good-night.'
Dear heart, good-night!
The late winds in the lake weeds shiver,
And the spray flies cold and white.
And the voice that sings gives a telltale quiver —
'Ah, yes, the world is bright,
But, dearest heart, good-night!'
Dear heart, good-night!
And do not longer seek to hold me!
For my soul is in affright
As the fearful glooms in their pall enfold me.
See him who sang how white
And still; so, dear, good-night.
Dear heart, good-night!
Thy hand I'll press no more forever,
And mine eyes shall lose the light;
For the great white wraith by the winding river
Shall check my steps with might.
So, dear, good-night, good-night!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Dear Diary
Dear Diary....
this heart of mine is been confused
if it is love, infatuation or crush
he always in my thoughts all day and night
that keeps lingering on my mind
Dear diary....
here I’ am smiling all alone
and thinking him all day long
and see him face closer to mine
walking hand and hand
talking laughing and feeling
Dear diary.....
I don’t know what to do?
Tell me where do I start
I miss him each day of my life
can't explain this feeling I have
if it is madness... when it will last?
Dear diary....
I wonder what would happen next?
Song of my heart will be please
this feeling soon will reveal
a love I have been hidden and care about
Dear diary... tell me now
poem by Cheryl Aldea
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The Void
By Samuel Sweetnam
Cold is the Void
That is what we are not
That is where we are to go
That is what we are to become
Dark is the void
That steals the night
That fills the heart
Of the greedy man
Black is the void
That hides the lost
That feeds the beast
That hunts the good
The void is cold
The void is dark
The void is black
The void is torture
If the void is all
We are to become
Then what is left
Is there no hope?
For one small child
Born one dark night
Among the void
Consuming the night
He brought the life
He brought the hope
Some two thousand years ago
He brought us light
So remember this
My dear friend
Of the babe born
On Christmas morn
He brought the Warm
He brought the light
He brought the Love
Among the night.
poem by Samuel Sweetnam
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Friend Of The Devil
I lit out from reno, I was trailed by twenty hounds
Didnt get to sleep last night till the morning came around.
Set out runnin but I take my time
A friend of the devil is a friend of mine
If I get home before daylight, I just might get some sleep tonight.
Ran into the devil, babe, he loaned me twenty bills
I spent the night in utah in a cave up in the hills.
Set out runnin but I take my time, a friend of the devil is a friend of mine,
If I get home before daylight, I just might get some sleep tonight.
I ran down to the levee but the devil caught me there
He took my twenty dollar bill and vanished in the air.
Set out runnin but I take my time
A friend of the devil is a friend of mine
If I get home before daylight, I just might get some sleep tonight.
Got two reasons why I cry away each lonely night,
The first ones named sweet anne marie, and shes my hearts delight.
The second one is prison, babe, the sheriffs on my trail,
And if he catches up with me, Ill spend my life in jail.
Got a wife in chino, babe, and one in cherokee
The first one says shes got my child, but it dont look like me.
Set out runnin but I take my time,
A friend of the devil is a friend of mine,
If I get home before daylight, I just might get some sleep tonight.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We are bipeds, you say. Well, what of it? The stork stands on one leg only.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. Ziem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One and Only One!
I am in peace
At perfect peace with God;
O what a God and peace are!
A narrow dark tunnel I crossed;
To see that vast ocean ahead,
No shores not even
any bright shine,
shineth the self seamless
and endless,
Except the galaxies shine like light worms
This, this indeed is peace.
Is it, peace bestowed on me,
Or by my own effort I attained the peace?
By nature and by practice, peace was too far,
How very far I was from God;
Yet now by grace brought right to Him,
Through faith and mediation.
So beautiful, so very beautiful is God,
I was never nearer be;
For in the person of my own,
He was always with me,
I ran away from him,
Yet, he was with me like my shadow,
May be I ran and ran like shadow of my own,
I am as near as He.
He is as near as me,
So dear, so very dear to God I and all,
More dear I cannot be as you too are dear to him;
The love wherewith His love
now reflects in me and you too,
Such is His love to me and you,
just a touch made me melt and one with vacuum,
Flow into your heart as love divine,
And one with that bright light, all worlds are one,
Why should I ever anxious be,
Why should I be more a being,
Why should I be narrow and small,
When infinite was only one and vanished I in Him,
Since such a God is mine,
O is it true, is he mine or I am his?
I am his is more true
than he is mine,
who has to judge when we are one,
He watches me night and day,
Warns and guards
here and there and Everywhere,
Now I knew about this, he is always there,
And the fool and foolish,
I was never there
As this body and mind sent on a mission impossible,
Only his grace makes,
Even every thing possible,
You are the one my God,
You are the one before infinite zeros
Completing that look infinite,
yet when zero adds to one,
The one remains one and only Lord!
And tells me
'Mine is thine, Thine is mine.
And all that thou possess is mine and
Look you too were not only mine,
But also all are mine,
Pious and sinner alike,
Happy and pain alike,
Beauty and ugly all alike,
Drunken or mad lover all are mine!
You are my own shadow and shadow alone,
Shadow of puppet with I play on,
My own light plays the shadow,
The shadow of puppet on the screen
of my own mind!
Such is my God, only one always one,
One and only one!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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A Rocking Hymn
Sweet baby, sleep! what ails my dear,
What ails my darling thus to cry?
Be still, my child, and lend thine ear
To hear me sing thy lullaby.
My pretty lamb, forbear to weep;
Be still, my dear; sweet baby, sleep.
Thou blessed soul, what canst thou fear?
What thing to thee can mischief do?
Thy God is now thy father dear,
His holy Spouse, thy mother too.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
Though thy conception was in sin,
A sacred bathing thou hast had;
And, though thy birth unclean hath been,
A blameless babe thou now art made.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my dear; sweet baby, sleep,
While thus thy lullaby I sing,
For thee great blessings ripening be;
Thine eldest brother is a King,
And hath a kingdom bought for thee.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
Sweet baby, sleep and nothing fear,
For whosoever thee offends,
By thy protector threat'ned are,
And God and angels are thy friends.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
When God with us was dwelling here,
In little babes he took delight;
Such innocents as thou, my dear,
Are ever precious in His sight.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
A little infant once was He,
And, strength in weakness, then was laid
Upon His virgin-mother's knee,
That power to thee might be conveyed.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
In this, thy frailty and thy need,
He friends and helpers doth prepare,
Which thee shall cherish, clothe and feed;
For of thy weal they tender are.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
The King of kings, when he was born,
Had not so much for outward ease;
By Him such dressings were not worn,
Nor such like swaddling-clothes as these.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
Within a manger lodged thy Lord
Where oxen lay and asses fed;
Warm rooms we do to thee afford,
An easy cradle or a bed.
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
The wants that He did then sustain
Have purchased wealth, my babe, for thee;
And by His torments and His pain
Thy rest and ease securèd be.
My baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
Thou hast (yet more) to perfect this,
A promise and an earnest got
Of gaining everlasting bliss,
Though thou, my babe, perceiv'st it not;
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep;
Be still, my babe; sweet baby, sleep.
poem by George Wither
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Armenian Lullaby
If thou wilt shut thy drowsy eyes,
My mulberry one, my golden sun!
The rose shall sing thee lullabies,
My pretty cosset lambkin!
And thou shalt swing in an almond-tree,
With a flood of moonbeams rocking thee--
A silver boat in a golden sea,
My velvet love, my nestling dove,
My own pomegranate blossom!
The stork shall guard thee passing well
All night, my sweet! my dimple-feet!
And bring thee myrrh and asphodel,
My gentle rain-of-springtime!
And for thy slumbrous play shall twine
The diamond stars with an emerald vine
To trail in the waves of ruby wine,
My myrtle bloom, my heart's perfume,
My little chirping sparrow!
And when the morn wakes up to see
My apple bright, my soul's delight!
The partridge shall come calling thee,
My jar of milk-and-honey!
Yes, thou shalt know what mystery lies
In the amethyst deep of the curtained skies,
If thou wilt fold thy onyx eyes,
You wakeful one, you naughty son,
You cooing little turtle!
poem by Eugene Field
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