Marian
I
She can be as wise as we,
And wiser when she wishes;
She can knit with cunning wit,
And dress the homely dishes.
She can flourish staff or pen,
And deal a wound that lingers;
She can talk the talk of men,
And touch with thrilling fingers.
II
Match her ye across the sea,
Natures fond and fiery;
Ye who zest the turtle's nest
With the eagle's eyrie.
Soft and loving is her soul,
Swift and lofty soaring;
Mixing with its dove-like dole
Passionate adoring.
III
Such a she who'll match with me?
In flying or pursuing,
Subtle wiles are in her smiles
To set the world a-wooing.
She is steadfast as a star,
And yet the maddest maiden:
She can wage a gallant war,
And give the peace of Eden.
poem by George Meredith
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Related quotes
Bird Or Beast?
Did any bird come flying
After Adam and Eve,
When the door was shut against them
And they sat down to grieve?
I think not Eve's peacock
Splendid to see,
And I think not Adam's eagle;
But a dove may be.
Did any beast come pushing
Through the thorny hedge
Into the thorny thistly world,
Out from Eden's edge?
I think not a lion,
Though his strength is such;
But an innocent loving lamb
May have done as much.
If the dove preached from her bough
and the lamb from his sod,
The lamb and dove
Were preachers sent from God.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Dont Talk About It
I was staring at the people
Lost and terrified
Turned and saw you smiling
My heart was terrorised
Lust among the millions
Another suicide
Chorus:
When I think that love was there
Dont wanna talk about it
Dont wanna talk about it
The pain we share
While they just talk about it
While they just talk about it
A hand reached out to touch me
A letter hit the pile
I felt my life revolving
Like fingers in a dial
Just then I stopped believing
But only for a while
When I think that love was there
Dont wanna talk about it
Dont wanna talk about it
The pain we share
While they just talk about it
While they just talk about it
When I think that love was there
Dont wanna talk about it
Dont wanna talk about it
Dont give it up
Dont count on their loving
Dont give it up, dont try
Dont give it up
Dont count on their loving
Dont give it up, dont try
Dont wanna talk about it
Dont wanna talk about it
(chorus)
When I think that love was there
I was staring at the people
Lost and terrified
Turned and saw you crying
A victim of your pride
But you are no civilian
So open up your eyes
(chorus)
song performed by by Culture Club
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Way of Wooing
A maiden sat at her window wide,
Pretty enough for a Prince's bride,
Yet nobody came to claim her.
She sat like a beautiful picture there,
With pretty bluebells and roses fair,
And jasmine-leaves to frame her.
And why she sat there nobody knows;
But this she sang as she plucked a rose,
The leaves around her strewing:
"I've time to lose and power to choose;
'T is not so much the gallant who woos,
But the gallant's WAY of wooing!"
A lover came riding by awhile,
A wealthy lover was he, whose smile
Some maids would value greatly -
A formal lover, who bowed and bent,
With many a high-flown compliment,
And cold demeanour stately,
"You've still," said she to her suitor stern,
"The 'prentice-work of your craft to learn,
If thus you come a-cooing.
I've time to lose and power to choose;
'T is not so much the gallant who woos,
As the gallant's WAY of wooing!"
A second lover came ambling by -
A timid lad with a frightened eye
And a colour mantling highly.
He muttered the errand on which he'd come,
Then only chuckled and bit his thumb,
And simpered, simpered shyly.
"No," said the maiden, "go your way;
You dare but think what a man would say,
Yet dare to come a-suing!
I've time to lose and power to choose;
'T is not so much the gallant who woos,
As the gallant's WAY of wooing!"
A third rode up at a startling pace -
A suitor poor, with a homely face -
No doubts appeared to bind him.
He kissed her lips and he pressed her waist,
And off he rode with the maiden, placed
On a pillion safe behind him.
And she heard the suitor bold confide
This golden hint to the priest who tied
The knot there's no undoing;
With pretty young maidens who can choose,
'T is not so much the gallant who woos,
As the gallant's WAY of wooing!"
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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About you
about the sun I do not talk to the rays
I let them touch me I let them warm me
and I never never say a word
about the clouds I do not talk to the fogs
I let them take me I let them dress me
and I never make a single move
about the colours I do not talk to the rainbows
I let them ask me I let them paint me
and I never never give any answer
about you I never talk to anyone
I let them see the shine in my eyes
but I never give a single clue
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Sleep! Sleep! Beauty Bright
Sleep! sleep! beauty bright,
Dreaming o'er the joys of night;
Sleep! sleep! in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit and weep.
Sweet Babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
Little pretty infant wiles.
As thy softest limbs I feel,
Smiles as of the morning steal
O'er thy cheek, and o'er thy breast
Where thy little heart does rest.
O! the cunning wiles that creep
In thy little heart asleep.
When thy little heart does wake
Then the dreadful lightnings break,
From thy cheek and from thy eye,
O'er the youthful harvests nigh.
Infant wiles and infant smiles
Heaven and Earth of peace beguiles.
poem by William Blake
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A cradle song
Sleep Sleep beauty bright
Dreaming oer the joys of night
Sleep Sleep: in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit & weep
Sweet Babe in thy face
Soft desires I can trace
Secret joys & secret smiles
Little pretty infant wiles.
As thy softest limbs I feel
Smiles as of the morning steal
Oer thy cheek & oer thy breast
Where thy little heart does rest
O the cunning wiles that creep
In thy little heart asleep
When thy little heart does wake
Then the dreadful lightnings break
From thy cheek & from thy eye
Oer the youthful harvests nigh
Infant wiles & infant smiles
Heaven & Earth of peace beguiles
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1793)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Mine Eyes Were Swift To Know Thee
MINE eyes were swift to know thee, and my heart
As swift to love. I did become at once
Thine wholly, thine unalterably, thine
In honourable service, pure intent,
Steadfast excess of love and laughing care:
And as she was, so am, and so shall be.
I knew thee helpful, knew thee true, knew thee
And Pity bedfellows: I heard thy talk
With answerable throbbings. On the stream,
Deep, swift, and clear, the lilies floated; fish
Through the shadows ran. There, thou and I
Read Kindness in our eyes and closed the match.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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A Cradle Song
Sleep, Sleep, beauty bright,
Dreaming o'er the joys of night;
Sleep, Sleep; in thy sleep
Little sorrows sit & weep.
Sweet Babe, in thy face
Soft desires I can trace,
Secret joys and secret smiles,
Little pretty infant wiles.
As thy softest limbs I feel,
Smiles as of the morning steal
O’er thy cheek & o’er thy breast
Where thy little heart doth rest.
O, the cunning wiles that creep
In thy little heart asleep.
When thy little heart doth wake,
Then the dreadful lightnings break.
From thy cheek & from thy eye
O'er the youthful harvests nigh
Infant wiles & infant smiles
Heaven & Earth of peace beguiles.
poem by William Blake (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Mirage
Were I thy bride,
Then the whole world beside
Were not too wide
To hold my wealth of love -
Were I thy bride!
Upon thy breast
My loving head would rest,
As on her nest
The tender turtle-dove -
Were I thy bride!
This heart of mine
Would be one heart with thine,
And in that shrine
Our happiness would dwell -
Were I thy bride!
And all day long
Our lives should be a song:
No grief, no wrong
Should make my heart rebel -
Were I thy bride!
The silvery flute,
The melancholy lute,
Were night-owl's hoot
To my low-whispered coo -
Were I thy bride!
The skylark's trill
Were but discordance shrill
To the soft thrill
Of wooing as I'd woo -
Were I thy bride!
The rose's sigh
Were as a carrion's cry
To lullaby
Such as I'd sing to thee -
Were I thy bride!
A feather's press
Were leaden heaviness
To my caress.
But then, unhappily,
I'm not thy bride!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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A coach can only teach.
A coach is not a match to his players.
Stamina matters.
A teacher cannot match his students;
Memory matters.
A preacher cannot match his disciples;
Staunchness matters.
A husband cannot match his cuckold;
Curiosity matters.
Can a ladder match the climber?
30.09.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Are You Passionate
Are you passionate?
Are you livin' like you talk?
Are you dreamin' now
that you're goin' to the top?
Are you negative,
In a world that never stops,
Turnin' on you?
Turnin' on me?
Turnin' on you?
Are you loving it?
Can you ever get enough of it?
Is it everything?
A love that never stops,
Comin' to you?
Comin' to me?
Comin' to you?
Once I was a soldier,
I was fighting in the sky,
And the gunfire kept
comin' back on me.
So I dove into the darkness,
And I let my missles fly.
And they might be the ones,
That kept you free.
Once I was a prisoner,
I was riding in a truck,
Cleaned up for public display.
I looked at those around me,
And when they looked at me,
I let them see my soul that day.
Are you scared of it?
Do you wish that it would stop?
Does it bother you
when you hear your spirit talk?
Well I'm right with you,
Yes I'm right with you.
It's working on me,
It's working on you.
It's working on me.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Such Thing
(paul nelson, gene nelson)
Well theres news flying round
On the rosy side of town
That I have gone and found somebody new
Well ?
Against the way some people talk
I guess sometimes its all they have to do
Chorus:
Oh there aint no such thing
As me not loving you
Honey there aint no such thing
As me not being true
So believe your heart and not your ears
Your heart knows what is true
Theres no such thing
As me not loving you
Well a love like yours and mine
Has got to deal with the jealous kind
But I dont mind theres nothing I can do
Cause their words can do no harm
With you here in my arms
So they can talk until their talk turn blue
Repeat chorus
(there aint no such thing as me not loving you)
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rose, Fall
Rose of many petals that fall at gentle touch,
you cannot match up to my love-who with touch does not fall
Rose of the green stem, who withers when is dry
you cannot match up to my love, who with age, never dries
Rose of thorny flaws, who pricks me at the lips
you cannot match up to my love, whos lips contain no thorns
Rose like any other rose, who with them does not stand out,
you cannot match up to my love, whose beauty stands outloud
Rose of limited colors, who can only bloom one tone
you cannot match up to my love, who blooms of every hue
Rose, who only appeals to eyes, to those who see its beauty
you cannot match up to my love, who appeals to every sense
Rose fall down, and bow to my love-she is the one with grace
Rose wither away to my love, whose beauty outlives yours
Rose turn 'way, when in presence to my love-
for she holds something you dont hold
and that is my steep love
poem by Afrodita Alkline
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Small Talk
Its not the chapters he reads when youre feeling low down
Its not the touch of his skin when you kiss him goodnight
Its not the money he spends when you want to buy a daydream
And not that miracle smile that makes the sky bright
Its not the way his hands behave
When youve turned out the light
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you want to fly, yes it does
Its not the way he believes in you like a religion
Its not the thrill that you get when hes holding you tight
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen (just like that)
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
Information, heart and soul, a whisper, a word
Confessions that have to be heard
Small small talk
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you make it rock so heavenly
Come on now, come on now
Come on - you seem to talk so heavenly
Big words...
Small talk...
Its not the way his eyes persuade
You to stay the night
Its the small, small small talk that makes it all happen
Small, small small talk that makes you feel like flying, yes it does
song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The Same Flower (second poem)
With little here to do or see
Of things that in the great world be,
Daisy! again I talk to thee,
For thou art worthy,
Thou unassuming Common-place
Of Nature, with that homely face,
And yet with something of a grace,
Which Love makes for thee!
Oft on the dappled turf at ease
I sit, and play with similies,
Loose types of things through all degrees,
Thoughts of thy raising:
And many a fond and idle name
I give to thee, for praise or blame,
As is the humour of the game,
While I am gazing.
A nun demure of lowly port;
Or sprightly maiden, of Love's court,
In thy simplicity the sport
Of all temptations;
A queen in crown of rubies drest;
A starveling in a scanty vest;
Are all, as seems to suit thee best,
Thy appellations.
A little cyclops, with one eye
Staring to threaten and defy,
That thought comes next--and instantly
The freak is over,
The shape will vanish--and behold
A silver shield with boss of gold,
That spreads itself, some faery bold
In fight to cover!
I see thee glittering from afar--
And then thou art a pretty star;
Not quite so fair as many are
In heaven above thee!
Yet like a star, with glittering crest,
Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest;--
May peace come never to his nest,
Who shall reprove thee!
Bright 'Flower'! for by that name at last,
When all my reveries are past,
I call thee, and to that cleave fast,
Sweet silent creature!
That breath'st with me in sun and air,
Do thou, as thou art wont, repair
My heart with gladness, and a share
Of thy meek nature!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Let Me Talk
Maurice white, verdine white, larry dunn, al mckay, ralph johnson & philip bailey
Fifty million voices mumbling from the street
Talking about the 80s and who it will mistreat
Now, joseph worken hardy, checkin out the jive
Glancing at his pocketbook, inflation is alive
I stand tall, let me talk
I stand tall, let me talk
Miss sophisticated, your nose up in the air
Trying to find excitement, in the labels that you wear
Now, I may disappoint you, with the thins I say
But deep inside, a message burns withing me everyday
I stand tall, let me talk
I stand tall, let me talk
Were all the same, with different names
Will you play your role, just as youre told
Let me talk, let me talk, let me talk, let me talk
Wont you come on down, put your feet on the ground
Get in touch with you, let your love come thru
World automotives chase the arab wheel
Partnerships on nuclear, trying to make a deal
Where does it all lead to
Im sure the question flows,
Thru many minds around the world
Im sure nobody knows
I stand tall, let me talk
I stand tall, let me talk
I stand tall, let me talk
I stand tall, let me talk
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flying Colours
Shout if you will, but that just wont do.
I, for one, would rather follow softer options.
Ill take the easy line; another sip of wine,
And if I ignore the face you wore its just a way of
Mine to keep from flying colours.
Dont lay your bait while the whole world waits
Around to see me shoot you down --- its all so second-rate.
When we can last for days on a loving night;
Or for hours at least on a warm whisper given.
You always pick the best time to rise to the fight.
To break the hard bargain that weve driven.
Once again were flying colours.
I thought we had it out the night before,
And settled old scores, but not the hard way.
Was it a glass too much? or a smile too few?
Did our friends all catch the needle match --- did we
Want them to?
In a fancy restaurant we were all aglow
Keeping cool by mutual permission.
How did the conversation get to where we came to blows?
We were set up in a red condition
And again were flying colours.
Shout --- but you see it still wont do.
With my colours on I can be just as bad as you.
Have I had a glass too much? did I give a smile too few?
Did our friends all catch the needle match --- did we
Want them to?
We act our parts so well, like we wrote the play.
All so predictable and we know it.
Well settle old scores now, and settle the hard way.
You may not even live to outgrow it!
Once again were flying colours.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day Dream
One day people will touch and talk perhaps
easily,
And loving be natural as breathing and warm as
sunlight,
And people will untie themselves, as string is unknotted,
Unfold and yawn and stretch and spread their fingers,
Unfurl, uncurl like seaweed returned to the sea,
And work will be simple and swift
as a seagull flying,
And play will be casual and quiet
as a seagull settling,
And the clocks will stop, and no one will wonder
or care or notice,
And people will smile without reason,
Even in winter, even in the rain.
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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One Day
People will touch and talk perhaps easily,
And loving be natural as breathing,
And warm as sunlight;
And people will untie themselves,
As string is unknotted,
Unfold and yawn and stretch and spread
Their fingers;
Unfurl, uncurl, like seaweed returned
To the sea.
And work will be simple and swift
Like a seagull flying;
And play will be casual and quiet
Like a seagull sitting.
And the clocks will stop, and no - one
Will wonder or care or notice.
And people will smile without reason,
Even in the winter
Even in the rain.
poem by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
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People Will Talk
The following lines were written at the request of a little girl,
who said she would recite them at a Sunday School
entertainment. She wished it written to the refrain people
will talk. I presume the ideas in the following are nearly,
altogether original, or they are very differently worded
from the old pieces under the title of 'People will Talk.'
Dressing in fashion will be called vain,
And they'll call you a dowdey [sic] if you are plain ;
But do what is right, lot that be the test
Then proudly hold up your head with the best-
For people will talk.
You will never be wrong, if you do what is right,
And this course pursue with all of your might ;
And if you're a child, going to school,
Or full grown up, take this for your rule-
For people will talk.
The best way to do is to let them rave,
And they'll think more of you, if you are brave ;
For no one, will ever think you are rude,
If you are determined for to be good-
For people will talk.
Little girl, on her way to Sunday school class,
Rude boys sometimes will not let her pass ;
But if they do see that she is not afraid
They soon will respect the brave little maid-
For people will talk,
Little girls should learn to knit and to sew,
Then, if to womanhood they ever grow,
Their hose they can knit, and make their own dress,
Then to their homes they will bring bless-
For people will talk.
And their homes they should make tidy and neat,
Everything should be so clean and so sweet.
This line for ourselves out we will chalk,
And we are determined in it to walk-
For people will talk.
poem by James McIntyre
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