Related quotes: He rises and begins to...

The Lark Ascending

He rises and begins to round,
He drops the silver chain of sound
Of many links without a break,
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake,
All intervolv’d and spreading wide,
Like water-dimples down a tide
Where ripple ripple overcurls
And eddy into eddy whirls;
A press of hurried notes that run
So fleet they scarce are more than one,
Yet changingly the trills repeat
And linger ringing while they fleet,
Sweet to the quick o’ the ear, and dear
To her beyond the handmaid ear,
Who sits beside our inner springs,
Too often dry for this he brings,
Which seems the very jet of earth
At sight of sun, her musci’s mirth,
As up he wings the spiral stair,
A song of light, and pierces air
With fountain ardor, fountain play,
To reach the shining tops of day,
And drink in everything discern’d
An ecstasy to music turn’d,
Impell’d by what his happy bill
Disperses; drinking, showering still,
Unthinking save that he may give
His voice the outlet, there to live
Renew’d in endless notes of glee,
So thirsty of his voice is he,
For all to hear and all to know
That he is joy, awake, aglow,
The tumult of the heart to hear
Through pureness filter’d crystal-clear,
And know the pleasure sprinkled bright
By simple singing of delight,
Shrill, irreflective, unrestrain’d,
Rapt, ringing, on the jet sustain’d
Without a break, without a fall,
Sweet-silvery, sheer lyrical,
Perennial, quavering up the chord
Like myriad dews of sunny sward
That trembling into fulness shine,
And sparkle dropping argentine;
Such wooing as the ear receives
From zephyr caught in choric leaves
Of aspens when their chattering net
Is flush’d to white with shivers wet;
And such the water-spirit’s chime
On mountain heights in morning’s prime,
Too freshly sweet to seem excess,
Too animate to need a stress;
But wider over many heads
The starry voice ascending spreads,
Awakening, as it waxes thin,
The best in us to him akin;
And every face to watch him rais’d,
Puts on the light of children prais’d,
So rich our human pleasure ripes
When sweetness on sincereness pipes,
Though nought be promis’d from the seas,
But only a soft-ruffling breeze
Sweep glittering on a still content,
Serenity in ravishment.

For singing till his heaven fills,
’T is love of earth that he instils,
And ever winging up and up,
Our valley is his golden cup,
And he the wine which overflows
To lift us with him as he goes:
The woods and brooks, the sheep and kine
He is, the hills, the human line,
The meadows green, the fallows brown,
The dreams of labor in the town;
He sings the sap, the quicken’d veins;
The wedding song of sun and rains
He is, the dance of children, thanks
Of sowers, shout of primrose-banks,
And eye of violets while they breathe;
All these the circling song will wreathe,
And you shall hear the herb and tree,
The better heart of men shall see,
Shall feel celestially, as long
As you crave nothing save the song.
Was never voice of ours could say
Our inmost in the sweetest way,
Like yonder voice aloft, and link
All hearers in the song they drink:
Our wisdom speaks from failing blood,
Our passion is too full in flood,
We want the key of his wild note
Of truthful in a tuneful throat,
The song seraphically free
Of taint of personality,
So pure that it salutes the suns
The voice of one for millions,
In whom the millions rejoice
For giving their one spirit voice.

Yet men have we, whom we revere,
Now names, and men still housing here,
Whose lives, by many a battle-dint
Defaced, and grinding wheels on flint,
Yield substance, though they sing not, sweet
For song our highest heaven to greet:
Whom heavenly singing gives us new,
Enspheres them brilliant in our blue,
From firmest base to farthest leap,
Because their love of Earth is deep,
And they are warriors in accord
With life to serve and pass reward,
So touching purest and so heard
In the brain’s reflex of yon bird;
Wherefore their soul in me, or mine,
Through self-forgetfulness divine,
In them, that song aloft maintains,
To fill the sky and thrill the plains
With showerings drawn from human stores,
As he to silence nearer soars,
Extends the world at wings and dome,
More spacious making more our home,
Till lost on his aërial rings
In light, and then the fancy sings.

poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

A Bird and flower upon the tree

A bird and flower upon the tree,
Sweet peony and oriole,
Each of them a perfect soul,
Song and sweetness manifest
The bird and flower we love the best
Side by side on the tall tree.

'Flower who art sunlight and fire, flower who art perfume and joy,
Sweetest of sweet,
Ah for the gift withheld!
Ah for the given gift's alloy!
Why must thy spirit exhale only in beauty and breath?
Ah for the voice thou hast not! I by thy side on the tree,
Telling the world of love, pain, and all raptures that be,
Raptures of laughter and life, raptures of tears and death,
Singing my heart to heaven, singing to earth at my feet;
Silence in thee.'

'Bird who art dew-drops and flame, bird who art rapture and song,
Sweetest of sweet,
Lo there's a voice part mine, songs that to me too belong,
Songs that grew of my growth, voice that has breathed my breath.
Bird that while I sit mute singest beside on the tree,
Hast thou ever a song taking no perfume of me?
Give forth my sweetness in song; bird, thou art singing for both,
Singing our hearts to heaven, singing to earth at our feet;
My voice in thee.'

On the tree-top side by side,
Sweet oriole and peony;
Music rings through earth and sky,
Sweet and sweet in sweetness lost
The flower and bird we love the most,
On the tree-top side by side.

poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Amaranth

ONCE a poet—long ago—
Wrote a song as void of art
As the songs that children know,
And as pure as a child’s heart.
With a sigh he threw it down,
Saying, “This will never shed
Any glory or renown
On my name when I am dead.

“I will sing a lordly song
Men shall hear, when I am gone,
Through the years sound clear and strong
As a golden clarion.”

So this lordly song he sang
That would gain him deathless fame—
When the death-knell o’er him rang
No man even knew its name.

Ay, and when his way he found
To the place of singing souls,
And beheld their bright heads crowned
With song-woven aureoles,

He stood shame-faced in the throng,
For his brow of wreath was bare,
And, alas! his lordly song
Sere had grown in that sweet air;

Then, all sudden, a divine
Light fell on him from afar,
And he felt the child-song shine
On his forehead like a star.

So for ever. Each and all
Songs of passion or of mirth
That are not heart-pure shall fall
As a sky-lark’s—to the earth;

But the soul’s song has no bounds—
Like the voice of Israfel,
From the heaven of heavens it sounds
To the very hell of hell.

poem by Victor James Daley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Melody

Melody
By: Adam M. Snow

O' Melody, names like the angel's song;
music swaying around thine love
but of thy love my days be long;
O' my Melody, sang my song.

I long to hear thy voice, thy angelic voice
soothes away my hearts desire.
But it be that of love's choice
echoing upon thy voice.

Can thee forever love a lonely man such as I,
or do thee live on knowing not that of love,
or do thee walk passed and curse myself to die?
This feeling, this love O' Melody I cannot deny.

Let me hear thy choir of thy song;
a voice so deep calming the soul.
Let thy voice and passion be strong;
O' my Melody, sang my song.

Sing; let thy voice be heard across the Earth.
Let it pierce thy shadows.
Let the world see a new found birth
and the wonders its worth.

O' Melody, a song I longed after
to cleanse my immortal soul,
to feel the joy and laughter
and be with you hereafter.

O' Melody, names like the angel's song;
music swaying around thine love
but of thy love my days be long;
O' my Melody, sang my song.

O' Melody, play thy music for I love thee.
Thy lyrics be true thy heart,
Thy song be thy key
to set all souls free.

Let me hear thy choir of thy song;
a voice so deep calming the soul.
Let thy voice and passion be strong;
O' my Melody, sang my song.

poem by Adam M. Snow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Remembered

She sang, and I listened the whole song thro'.
(It was sweet, so sweet, the singing.)
The stars were out and the moon it grew
From a wee soft glimmer way out in the blue
To a bird thro' the heavens winging.

She sang, and the song trembled down to my breast,--
(It was sweet, so sweet the singing.)
As a dove just out of its fledgling nest,
And, putting its wings to the first sweet test,
Flutters homeward so wearily winging.

She sang and I said to my heart 'That song,
That was sweet, so sweet i' the singing,
Shall live with us and inspire us long,
And thou, my heart, shalt be brave and strong
For the sake of those words a-winging.'

The woman died and the song was still.
(It was sweet, so sweet, the singing.)
But ever I hear the same low trill,
Of the song that shakes my heart with a thrill,
And goes forever winging.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Voice of Love

After a long solitary confinement
In deep love for someone
I heard a song
A song in the woods
Where I stood
The woods which stood in the solitude

There was nobody
Nobody except me
Nobody heard the song
Which rapped in the woods
Somewhere, but I didn't know where
The song I heard wasn't raspy
Neither soft nor melodious
The song I heard was heart-strucken'd

There was a tone
A tune where you can find
A rapt of love.
The song has given pathogen in me
Who's that guy?
Singing in love
Crying and dying in love?

I listened to the song carefully
Now I found
The lonely woods are in me
And the song I heard
was the voice
The voice of love in me.

poem by D'menz Veen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Songs For Scarlett

THE SUNLIGHT CAUGHT IN HER VOICE

The darkness
of her hair

& the blue
in her eye

sang of her

& transformed
the world

into a beauty
a child could see

notes like
drops of rain dripping

from a branch

the sunlight caught
in her voice

memory forever
holding still

the song of the blue
in her eye

the song of the darkness
in her hair.

* * * * * * *

AND THE SONG SUNG

And the song
sung to please

had its own
song

that hid
within the song

or ran in &
out among the words

like delighted child

hovering above
or lingering below

the melody line

the song of my mother
singing singing

as if her heart
would break

or break
the heart of others

the song
that sang her

hiding now
at its finish

in the toss of her hair
the tear in her eye.

* * * * * * *

EVEN TIME STOPPED TO LISTEN

In my mind
you will be

always singing

forever held
in the spell

of your voice

even Time
stops to listen

& I
always your child

lost in the magic
of your song

eternally.

* * * * * * *
I awoke at 2.30 in the morning with the image of your mother and the song of her blue eyes and black hair singing in my mind and wrote these 3 poems down as if in a dream and went to sleep again. I awoke to the morning and they were still there. I hope they do her justice. See now how you who have set her singing in your poems…set her singing in my heart now.

poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Lines

Sing me that song again,
That wild, impassioned lay;
The tumult of my throbbing brain
Thy voice shall charm away.

Pour that harmonious flood
Upon my thirsting ear;
'Twill cool the fever of my blood
Those silvery notes to hear.

Sing me that mournful song,
That song of love and woe,
That these full fountains, closed so long,
Once more may overflow.

And while those gentle strings
Thy fairy hand sweeps o'er,
Upon thy music's trembling wings
My fainting soul shall soar.

poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems (1848)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The lark confinèd in his cage

The lark confinèd in his cage,
And captive in his wing,
Though fluttering with imprisoned rage,
Forbeareth not to sing.

But still the strain, though loud and long,
Is but the mock of mirth,
Not that dawn-dewy nuptial song
That weddeth Heaven with Earth.

Voice that in freedom seems so soft,
Fettered, sounds harsh and rough.
Listen! He shrilleth far too oft,
Nor faltereth half enough.

And I, still feebler it not free,
Do hourly more and more
Grow silent in captivity,
And, if I sing, must soar.

And as the lark's free carol floats
High on a sea of sound,
So let me fling my random notes
To ripple round and round.

Hark! now he shakes the towering skies,
A carillon of light,
Then dwindleth to a faint surmise,
Still singing out of sight.

And, though in clearest light arrayed
The Poet's song should shine,
Sometimes his far-off voice will fade
Into the dim divine.

Then we with following ear and heart
Should listen to the end,
Though we descry may but in part,
And dimly apprehend.

Lo! soon he quits his heavenly quest,
Slow-carolling into sight,
Then, quavering downward, strikes his nest,
Earthward aerolite.

So doubt not, dear, that if I soar
Where none longwhile may dwell,
Though Heaven at times may be my home,
Home is my Heaven as well.

poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bells Are Ringing

The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round
They hear the instructions
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound
The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (they travel great distances to the sound)
They are persuaded by the music of the bells
Theyre not responsible for anything they do
(no) the people know
(no) the way to go
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
They hear the sound (they hear the sound)
They hear the sound (they hear the sound)
They hear the sound (they hear the sound)
They hear the sound
The bells are ringing
And everyones walking
With arms extended in a trance
Forgetting their washing
Neglecting the children
Theyre dropping all businesses at hand
A voice is telling them to act a different way
They tilt their heads so they wont miss what it will say
(no) and when its so
(no) theres this to know
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round
They hear the instructions
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound
They are persuaded by the music of the bells
Theyre not responsible for anything they do
(no) the people know
(no) the way to go
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
A girl with cotton in her ears
Is shielded from the bells effect
As if by hidden signal
The people turn to face her
One thousand eyes are staring
They pull away her earplugs
The bells are pealing
And theyre revealing
The simple key to happiness
It isnt evil
It isnt good
Its only what the people miss
The bells explain what theyve been lacking all along
They were disorganized and that was what was wrong
(no) and now they know
(no) the way to go
The bells are ringing, they hear the sound
The bells are ringing
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
The bells are ringing (bringing the people round)
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
The bells are ringing (bringing the people round)
The song theyre singing
The sound is bringing the people round (the bells are ringing the song theyre singing the sound is)
They hear the instructions (bringing the people round)
They follow directions
They travel great distances to the sound (they travel great distances to the sound)

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silence (Part I)

Sometimes I see you as my child,
Sometimes I see you as my sweetheart,
And when I look into your eyes,
I see that tender and sweet smile,
And I want to say what’s in my heart,
And I want to tell you how I feel,
But my voice remains there, still,
And I just stare at your loving face,
And let the love from my heart,
Flow like a wild river in furious race,
to enfold your sweet and pure soul
with a sea of love and tenderness.

Sometimes there’s so much to say,
but nothing flows from my lips,
And only silence is there to stay,
And only the silence I should keep,
Because what I had to say was already said,
How words could express
never-ending love and tenderness?
How could I just say at one time,
I love you more than my own life?
And there remains the deep silence,
Silence and more silence,
to signal that divine presence,
of my silent love; my heart’s essence.

But this silence is not empty silence,
when divine love fills all my senses,
when nature’s beauty colours your soul,
and fades away all pity and woe.
Because when there is silence,
you can hear the silent language,
the heavenly music of my heart’s song,
God’s eternal music He’s been playing all along,
And in that silence you’ll hear my song,
The endless tune that my love sings,
with the sweetest notes in your luscious dreams,
which eternally flow like endless streams.

(2009)

poem by Roberto Echanes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With A Song In My Heart

Verse 1
Though I know that we meet evry night
And we couldnt heve change since the last time,
To my joy and delight,
Its a new kind of love at first sight.
Though its you and its I all the time
Evry meetings marvelous pastime.
Youre increasingly sweet,
So whenever we happened to met
I greet you ...
Refrain
With a song in my heart
I behold your adorable face.
Just a song at the start
But it soon is a hymn to your grace.
When the music swells
Im touching you hand
It tells that yourre standing near, and ..
At the sound of your voice
Heaven opens his portals to me.
Can I help but rejoice
That a song such as ours came to be?
But I always knew
I would live life through
With a song in my heart for you.
Verse 2
Oh, the moons not a moon for a night
And these stars will not twinkle and fade out,
And the words in my ears
Will resound for the rest of my years.
In the morning I find with delight
Not a note of our music is played out.
It will be just as sweet,
And an air that Ill live to repeat:
I greet you ...
Refrain
With a song in my heart
I behold your adorable face.
Just a song at the start
But it soon is a hymn to your grace.
When the music swells
Im touching you hand
It tells that youre standing near, and ..
At the sound of your voice
Heaven opens his portals to me.
Can I help but rejoice
That a song such as ours came to be?
But I always knew
I would live life through
With a song in my heart for you.

song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How Can I Keep From Singing?

My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?

What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Savior liveth;
What though the darkness gather round!
Songs in the night He giveth:
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,
How can I keep from singing?

I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smoothes
Since first I learned to love it:
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing:
All things are mine since I am His—
How can I keep from singing?

poem by Robert Wadsworth Lowry
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May This Song Reach Your Heart

A strong young woman sings,
Her voice so divine.
'May this song reach your heart.'

She showed the epitome
Of soul, body, and mind.
'May this song reach your heart.'

She sang to the heavens
With uplifting spirit.
'May this song reach your heart.'

Her song was made
So the world could hear it.
'May this song reach your heart.'

The song she sang
Was that of fine art.
'May this song,
Reach your heart.'

poem by Devon McElveen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's My Heart's Song Ringing

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of the weedy hues waving
'twixt and 'twixt and weaving
AS red and pink and blue parole
White and yellow on the whole

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of the sunshine when in rising
As it there and there passing
Gold and silver set to enroll
When I blink for words to extol

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of greens and pines and all pining
As they range in rows all upping
Bush and breeze in hush and cajole
Heavenly chimes when play their role

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of the descent of water falling
Down in silence a stream rippling
Azured when she with morning tole
Astir green mountainous all an aureole

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of land and amber as sun's setting
Sky and grey as light is dimming
Star and silver when seen in pole
Sheeny moon in brightened control

It's my heart's song ringing
Singing special for my soul
Of days this way fast passing
By the window side me sitting
Stable there a heaven to insoul
For this oldie a salvational goal

poem by Indira Renganathan
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For All The Children

One little sleigh bell rings
One little childs voice sings
Ocean to ocean theres an emotion
That the season brings
Flowing around the world
To every boy and girl
Now is the season filled with joy and love
Boy on the city street
Girl on the desert sand
Sister and brother loving each other
All across the land
This is the time of year
Differences disappear
Spreading goodwill and joy just like the dove
And Im singing this song
For all the children
To wish for peace on earth and love
The whole year through
cause the season belongs
To all the children of the world
Singin this christmas song
Reach out and pass it on
Sing it to all the children of the world
Let all the sleigh bells ring
Hear all the children sing
Voices arising all harmonizing
Its a joyful thing
Watching the world grow small
Touching them one and all
This is the season filled with joy and love
And Im singing this song
For all the children
To wish for peace on earth and love
The whole year through
cause the season belongs
To all the children of the world
Singin this christmas song
Reach out and pass it on
Sing it to all the children of the world
Written by d. sebesky & g. nissenson

song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice

One feather is a bird,
I claim; one tree, a wood;
In her low voice I heard
More than a mortal should;
And so I stood apart,
Hidden in my own heart.

And yet I roamed out where
Those notes went, like the bird,
Whose thin song hung in air,
Diminished, yet still heard:
I lived with open sound,
Aloft, and on the ground.

That ghost was my own choice,
The shy cerulean bird;
It sang with her true voice,
And it was I who heard
A slight voice reply;
I heard; and only I.

Desire exults the ear:
Bird, girl, and ghostly tree,
The earth, the solid air--
Their slow song sang in me;
The long noon pulsed away,
Like any summer day.

poem by Theodore Roethke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Singing

I’m Singing…
I’m Singing a New Song…
Deep Inside my Heart…
It’s a Song…that is different from any other song I have sung before…
It is a Song of…
A Song of Hope,
A Song of Love,
A Song of Fate,
A Song of Peace,
A Song of Friendship,
A Song of Family,
A Song of Life,
A Song of Healing,
A Song of Strength,
A Song of Courage,
A Song of Light,
A Song of Flight…
My Heart is beginning to Soar…
I’m finally starting to Fly…
I’m Singing…

poem by Bleeding Heart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The songster

Music, music with throb and swing,
Of a plaintive note, and long;
'Tis a note no human throat could sing,
No harp with its dulcet golden string,--
Nor lute, nor lyre with liquid ring,
Is sweet as the robin's song.

He sings for love of the season
When the days grow warm and long,
For the beautiful God-sent reason
That his breast was born for song.

Calling, calling so fresh and clear,
Through the song-sweet days of May;
Warbling there, and whistling here,
He swells his voice on the drinking ear,
On the great, wide, pulsing atmosphere
Till his music drowns the day.