To K.B.
You're here again - and of a sudden
A warmth long gone floods my dead heart,
And all I thought forgot, unbidden
Returns, of me becomes a part.
Just as spring's breath may soft come stealing
Upon the air on late fall's day
And rouse in us a vanished feeling
Of life, of something young and gay -
So of past years do I recover
The richness, and on your sweet face
With all the ardour of a lover
In reawakened rapture gaze.
Too long apart, drawn are we nearer
Once more - you're here, 'tis not a dream!
Sounds, ne'er within me stilled, the clearer
At sight of you and louder seem.
Remembrance?- No! The rustling pages
Of life turn fast - life's full again.
Your loveliness stays ever changeless,
My love for you unchanged remains.
poem by Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
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Related quotes
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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A Single Stemmed Rose
The soft petals of a rose
Its hue’s of colours it grows
Each one unique
In its splendor of galore
But favorite by far
A single long stemmed rose
Red, blue, white or gold
You give her a rose
She sighs with delight
Her heart beats fast
At a beautiful sight
To savoir the moment
In between the pages of time
She incases its beauty
With love divine
Years goes pass
She looks back
At the past
At the beauty of giving
From her lover sublime
Years again pass once more
She feels life ebb
Into astral form
But still she holds
Clasped in her hands
The single red rose
Her lover’s gift of old
Slowly she crumbles
And falls to the floor
The long stemmed rose
Clasped close to her heart
The petals they fall
And drift in the wind
And float to the heavens
A memory no more
poem by Kaila George
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You
Won't see your face in the mirror
Won't stand it at all
I'm seeing, i've been clearer
When i figured it out
In my life i dream about you
You're everything everything i wanted too
And now i'm waiting for lover to come along
Don't want to talk with another
Won't that be long
In my life i dream about you
You're everything everything i wanted you
I met someone but i want you
And now i only stand and fall for you love
Love
Love
Say give love
When might i look so clearly
I need a "known"
When darkness comes to me i would live alone
In my life i dream about you
You're everything i wanted wanted you
In my life i dream about you
Well in my dream i need only you
You're everything everything i wanted too
I met my love and it was you you you
My love
In my life i dream about you
Well if i'd sleep i'd see only you
You're everything everything i wanted you
I need my loving falling from you
You're love
song performed by by Moby
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Confer With Life
One day life asked me
What I was doing in this world
If not to love or to pass on strength
Then why, o son of Adam, you live?
Waking up from a vague dream
I looked upon life and answered
I am here to have fun all day long
And to attain my dream, to gain success
With a giggle and a chuckle
Life sniggered and asked
If to attain your dream, why you sleep
Rouse, o son of Adam, rouse
Agitated from my sweet sleep
I glared at life and said
To dream, I fall into a long serene sleep
And then I dream, I dream, I dream
Shocked or not, life looked alarmed at me
To dream, you sleep, I know
But to achieve you dream, wake up my boy
The outside sun awaits you
That day, life taught me a lesson
To achieve success, O son’s of Adam
Wake up from your dreams
DECEMBER 23,2008
poem by Sania Harris
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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 liv'd but in a dead-drawn breath of sighs
O'er vanish'd hours and hours eventual.
Even so much life hath the poor tress of hair
Which, stor'd 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 undimm'd in death.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The House of the Life: 36. 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 liv'd but in a dead-drawn breath of sighs
O'er vanish'd hours and hours eventual.
Even so much life hath the poor tress of hair
Which, stor'd 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 undimm'd in death.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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At Bay
Wife
Reach out your arms, and hold me close and fast.
Tell me there are no memories of your past
That mar this love of ours, so great, so vast.
Husband
Some truths are cheapened when too oft averred.
Does not the deed speak louder than the word?
(dear God, that old dream woke again and stirred.)
Wife
As you love me, you never loved before?
Though oft you say it, say it yet once more.
My heart is jealous of those days of yore.
Husband
Sweet wife, dear comrade, mother of my child,
My life is yours by memory undefiled.
(it stirs again, that passion brief and wild.)
Wife
You never knew a happier hour than this?
We two alone, our hearts surcharged with bliss,
Nor other kisses, sweet as my own kiss?
Husband
I was a thirsty field, long parched with drouth;
You were the warm rain, blowing from the south.
(But, ah, the crimson madness of her mouth!)
Wife
You would not, if you could, go down life’s track
For just one little moment and bring back
Some vanished rapture that you miss or lack?
Husband
I am content. You are my life, my all.
(One burning hour, but one, could I recall;
God, how men lie when driven to the wall!)
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Exile
I
At dead of night about the dying fire
They told a story how the dead appear;
And men, grown still with fear,
Forgot their old desire
For those who once were dear,
And shook and trembled lest their dead be near.
Alas, poor dead who were so sweet and human!
How are you grown a menace and a blight Â
A thing to shun, a thing of evil omen,Â
Stealing unwelcome through the halls of night?,
Who knows? perhaps yourselves are much affrighted,
And struggle back, remote and bodiless,
Fearful of sounds unheard, visions unsighted,
Black echoes, and the bitter loneliness.
But for me, in my heart is no dread
Of the coming again of the dead,
But a terror of life, without one
Who made life to be life - and is gone.
II
Yes, at these tales of how the dead return,
Hope stirs within my spirit more than fear.
So strange, so strange it seems, you are not here,
And so unnatural to me 'tis to learn
The trick of life without you, year by year,
That not so strange could any specter be
Or fall of footsteps on the empty stair,
Or shapes discerned upon the shadowy air,
As is this haunting sense of vacancy,
And your persisting absence everywhere.
Ah, could I see, as in the tranquil past,
The form I long for - always and in vain, -
Should I not cry, like one released from pain:
'Dear and long absent, you return at last,
And life its natural aspect wears again!'
poem by Alice Duer Miller
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You are mine
Right through the night
you have been mine
and while time got wings,
I felt your soft body
clinging to me
and there was something
in your touch and embrace
that left another state of grace.
You were mine
when passion ran
like a wild fire
and your breath,
brushed my cheek
and cries of rapture
went in to the dark night
and pleasure found its mark.
In every possibility and way
that life goes on,
in every attitude and feeling,
you are my woman and my wife
and the one
around whom I build my life.
When I hold you in my arms
it feels as if nothing can part us
and I hear your true heart
beating for me
and I am free from self
and love with more than mere passion.
You are mine and will forever
be with me
and even when this life
speeds past its limits,
it’s just like the morning mist
and the infinite thing that binds us
still remains in my heart
and in a way
we can never part again.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Dream Called Life
So it began with a flash of beams,
And they all thought it was just a mare dream.
Hoping to wake up one day,
And see that it was just a play.
But in the awaken of the sunrise,
Gave rise to something worth more than price.
It all started with a dream from heaven,
All it took was several days numbering up to seven.
To get this amazing dream on,
Even if it's still lukewarm.
Then came the birth of the stars,
And believe me it never remained dead like mars.
The dream kept on going,
And so like the air it kept on moving.
Until it got still for a while,
When it exploded like a missile.
And there it stood behold and begotten,
The finest of all creation from heaven.
A creation never seen before,
Never thought or heard of before.
And next was a breath of life,
A breath that's stronger than life.
A breath that brought about evolution,
A breath of divine resolution.
A breath that filled the lungs of men,
And gave rise to the world of men.
So the dream became more clearer,
For the generation of men was drawing nearer.
A generation of men of great kinds,
Made from the finest of all sands.
It still look like a mare dream,
But in reality creation it seem.
For they never understood,
How this extraordinary dream stood.
But in the end,
The dream gave birth to a world without end.
A life of justice, purity and happiness,
Full of love, joy and no sadness.
After giving birth to the world of humanity,
This dream will live on for all eternity.
poem by Stanley Oguh
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Spring Shine
The warmth Spring, soft touch my face
With bloom the flowers everywhere
The sunshine meets the blue skies
Watch the beautiful morning
Feel the flowers of spring, so fresh,
The morning of spring fills with joy
I dream of touching the moon light,
Staying in the heaven
Where, I will call his soul
And sweet moment spent with him.
The warmth breeze, whispered to my ears
With the happiness of sharing life together
Listen to the soul of the spring
Where, I ‘all dream of the perfect love
Till I give my life to him.
poem by Natasa Tocuc
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Valentine's Day (again)
Valentine’s Day (again)
Everything I have ever wanted in a Girl
I had already found in you
But the grass was always greener
In that fantasy life that I led
I could not see that dream
I had right in front of my face
And now it seems to me
That I will never dream that way again
But it is no wonder that we are drawn to each other still
Because the way that we loved each other then
Even though it may not have been the best thing for either of us
It was still something that we shared then and today
Every time I close my eyes I still see your face
I can smell your hair and feel your warmth
I can still hear your breath, soft
So long ago, like yesterday
Your smile gave me something to live for
So I decked out our room for you
With hearts and stars and roses and love
I don’t have to dry my eyes so much any more
Only when I think of you standing in the hallway
With that look on your face on Valentine’s Day
I was hiding in the closet watching you
You walked into the our room and set your bag down
Your smile showed everything, that love you had for me
That is the smile that I miss,8 years later
Vain Hope
Sometimes, to solace my sad heart, I say,
Though late it be, though lily-time be past,
Though all the summer skies be overcast,
Haply I will go down to her, some day,
And cast my rests of life before her feet,
That she may have her will of me, being so sweet
And none gainsay!
So might she look on me with pitying eyes,
And lay calm hands of healing on my head:
'_Because of thy long pains be comforted;
For I, even I, am Love: sad soul, arise!_'
So, for her graciousness, I might at last
Gaze on the very face of Love, and hold Him fast
In no disguise.
Haply, I said, she will take pity on me,
Though late I come, long after lily-time,
With burden of waste days and drifted rhyme:
Her kind, calm eyes, down drooping maidenly,
Shall change, grow soft: there yet is time, meseems,
I said, for solace; though I know these things are dreams
And may not be!
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Too Late
Too late the prize is drawn, the goal attained.
Too late, too late, our heart's desire is gained.
Wealth's use is past; Fame's crown of laurel mocks
The downward drooping head and grizzled locks.
The end is reached — the end of toil and strife —
The end of life.
Love flowers and fades like grass, and flowers again,
And strong young hearts spend all their strength in vain.
The fiery passions burn out, one by one,
And then, too late, when our best days are done,
Spirit and body find their perfect mate —
Too late, too late!
Long sought, long seeking, through the lonely years,
We meet at last to weep our useless tears
For time and chance irrevocably flown,
For dreams outlived and fervent hopes outgrown,
For babes unborn, for myriad joys unseen,
That might have been.
Too late, too late! And yet the priceless boon
Might ne'er have come to bless us, late or soon;
And only comes, like Holy Grail, to those
Made wise and pure by bitter needs and woes.
We learn the worth of life when life is o'er,
And not before.
Not for the spring and morning time of youth
The perfect flower of slow- unfolding truth —
The perfect love, deep, passionate, and strong,
That comes of wanting much and waiting long.
This glorious fire is of the setting sun
When day is done.
This harvest wealth, this crowning gift of fate,
This fruit of suffering years, must aye come late;
And only seeking spirit and ripe mind —
Only a few — the matchless treasure find,
And find, despite all time and chances lost,
'Twas worth the cost.
Ah me! To stand upon this height at last,
Ere eyes are dim or daylight overpast;
To see one aim achieved, one dream fulfilled,
Ere striving brain and hoping heart are stilled;
To know that we have borne a lifelong pain
Not all in vain!
O, not too late, if once we reach the goal —
If once we satisfy this hungry soul —
If only for a year, a day, an hour,
We drink our fill of life's true bliss and power.
If we but touch that point, we conquer fate
Not quite too late!
poem by Ada Cambridge
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And Doth Not a Meeting Like This
And doth not a meeting like this make amends
For all the long years I've been wandering away --
To see thus around me my youth's early friends,
As smiling and kind as in that happy day?
Though haply o'er some of your brows, as o'er mine,
The snow -- fall of time may be stealing -- what then?
Like Alps in the sunset, thus lighted by wine,
We'll wear the gay tinge of youth's roses again.
What soften'd remembrances come o'er the heart,
In gazing on those we've been lost to so long!
The sorrows, the joys, of which once they were part,
Still round them, like visions of yesterday, throng.
As letters some hand hath invisibly traced,
When held to the flame, will steal out on the sight,
So many a feeling, that long seem'd effaced,
The warmth of a meeting like this brings to the light.
And thus, as in memory's bark we shall glide,
To visit the scenes of your boyhood anew,
Though oft we may see, looking down on the tide,
The wreck of full many a hope shining through;
Yet still, as in fancy we point to the flowers,
That once made a garden of all the gay shore,
Deceived for a moment, we'll think them still ours,
And breathe the fresh air of life's morning once more.
So brief our existence, a glimpse, at the most,
Is all we can have of the few we hold dear;
And oft even joy is unheeded and lost,
For want of some heart, that could echo it, near.
Ah, well may we hope, when this short life is gone,
To meet in some world of more permanent bliss,
For a smile, or a grasp of the hand, hastening on,
Is all we enjoy of each other in this.
But, come, the more rare such delights to the heart,
The more we should welcome and bless them the more;
They're ours, when we meet -- they are lost when we part,
Like birds that bring Summer, and fly when 'tis o'er.
Thus circling the cup, hand in hand, ere we drink,
Let Sympathy pledge us, through pleasure, through pain,
That, fast as a feeling but touches one link,
Her magic shall send it direct through the chain.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Life Or Death?
Every day we live, we always face death
We get closer to it, every time we take a breath
Life is special but death brings peace
Life brings reality and things you believe
Death is hard for everyone around
Death is quiet, no more bad sounds
Life is also hard, all the things we go through
Life can never be easy, no matter what you do
Death is sad, for those who cry
Death is meaningful, for those who die
Life is a work of art, it's nice to look
Life is full of teachings, like an open book
Death is the new life, might as well be dead
Death is a lot more, for what's up ahead
Life brings new things, always something new
Life brings surprises, something out the blue
Death is scary, nothing we want to see
Death is negative, a place we don't want to be
Life is full of love, with the ones close to you
Life is full of money, for those who sue
Death is empty, nothing compared to this
Death is a lot of things, too long of a list
But life is everything; don't wait till there's nothing left
Death can wait, so don't waste your last breath
So just pick your choice, which one? Life or death?
poem by Triauna Hall
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Looking For You
I've waited so long now
I've wanted forever to hold you
Now you're in my arms
And I'll never let you go
Whatever you do, y'know
I'll be standing here beside you baby
Just like a bird that's find it's way back home
I've finally found a place where I belong
I've been looking for you since I took my first breath
And I'll be loving you baby til I take my last
I'd like to know
What would I do without you in my life
From the moment I saw you I knew
I was looking for you
Can I wake up now
Can I believe what I'm feeling
And I'll be sure I wasn't dreaming it all
Baby it's true, you do
Something supernatural to me
Each night I pray to God that you'll be blessed
I need you so much baby I confess
I've been looking for you since I took my first breath
And I'll be loving you baby til I take my last
I'd like to know
What would I do without you in my life
All along I was waiting for you
From the moment I saw you I knew
It had to be you
So the story goes
Together ever after
Now the dream came true
And maybe when you least expect it love will come to you
I'd like to know what would I do without you in my life
All along I was waiting for you
From the moment I saw you I knew
It had to be you
Sweet love came to my life
I was looking for you
Sweet love came to my life
I was looking for looking for you
Sweet love came to my life
I was thining about you
Sweet love came to my life
All along I was looking for you
Sweet love came to my life
I was thining about you
Sweet love came to my life
I was thinking about you
Sweet love came to my life
I was thinking about you
Sweet love came to my life
From the moment I saw you I knew
Sweet love came to my life
Looking for you
Sweet love came to my life
I was looking for you
Sweet love came to my life
I was thinking about you
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Was A Young Girl
(A Song of Old Ballads)
WHEN I was a young girl, all in a green arbor,
When I was a young girl in Springtimes gone by
All the long days I went singing and smiling,
Down by the roses the sweet days beguiling,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!
Oh, the long days I must sit at my sampler,
Oh, the slow way that the still time would go!
I longed to be running across the bright heather,
'Off with the silk gown and on with the leather,
Following the raggle-taggle gypsies, oh!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!
When I was a young girl in days that were golden,
When I was a young girl, and life had no smart,
All the world seemed a place for my playing,
Full of great lovers to come to me, saying,
'Madam, I give you the keys of my heart . . .'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, and dreaming apart!
When I was a young girl, I dreamed of my lover,
A tall cavalier who should whisper me low,
'Love, on your lips are red roses a-blowing,
I am your true love, and fast is time going
Am I your true love? Oh, say yes or no!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl–
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!
When I was a young girl there came my true lover,
Swiftly I knew him in glad days gone by;
Never a sword or a lovelock or feather,
But oh, at his touch 'twas our hearts came together,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!
poem by Margaret Widdemer
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The Looks Of A Lover Enamoured
THOU, with thy looks, on whom I look full oft,
And find therein great cause of deep delight,
Thy face is fair, thy skin is smooth and soft,
Thy lips are sweet, thine eyes are clear and bright,
And every part seems pleasant in my sight;
Yet wote thou well, those looks have wrought my woe,
Because I love to look upon them so.
For first those looks allured mine eye to look,
And straight mine eye stirred up my heart to love;
And cruel love, with deep deceitful hook,
Choked up my mind, whom fancy cannot move,
Nor hope relieve, nor other help behoove
But still to look; and though I look too much,
Needs must I look because I see none such.
Thus in thy looks my love and life have hold;
And with such life my death draws on apace:
And for such death no med'cine can be told
But looking still upon thy lovely face,
Wherein are painted pity, peace, and grace.
Then though thy looks should cause me for to die,
Needs must I look, because I live thereby.
Since then thy looks my life have so in thrall
As I can like none other looks but thine,
Lo, here I yield my life, my love, and all
Into thy hands, and all things else resign
But liberty to gaze upon thine eyen:
Which when I do, then think it were thy part
To look again, and link with me in heart.
poem by George Gascoigne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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