New-Born
She is so wee,
So wise and dear
Her eyes can see,
Her ears can hear,
The flowers that grow
Below the snow,
The birds that peep
In their eggs asleep,
The songs we sing her
No other has heard,
The love we bring her
With never a word.
poem by Harriet Monroe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sing Me No Sad Songs
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
A Happy Song...
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
* * *
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
006-Sing Me No Sad Songs
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
poem by Waldon Pond Productions
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Temptation
YOU bring your love too late, dear, I have no love to buy it,
I spent my love on worthless toys, at fairs you do not know;
I am a bankrupt trader--dear eyes, do not deny it,
I could have bought your love, dear, but that was long ago.
My soul has left me widowed, my heart has made me orphan,
Leave me--all good things, dear, have left me--leave me too!
For here is ice no tears of yours, no smiles of yours can soften:
Leave me, leave me, leave me, I have no love for you!
I have no flowers to give you, they grow not in my garden;
I have no songs to sing you, my songs have all been sung;
I have no hope of heaven, no faith in any pardon,
I might have loved you once, dear, when I was good and young.
I will not steal, nor cheat you; take back the heart you lent me.
O God, whom I have outraged, now teach me how to pray,
That love come never again so near me to torment me,
Lest I be found less faithful than, by Thy grace, to-day.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song of The Stream-Drops
By silent forest and field and mossy stone,
We come from the wooden hill, and we go to the sea.
We labour, and sing sweet songs, but we never moan,
For our mother, the sea, is calling us cheerily.
We have heard her calling us many and many a day
From the cool grey stones and the white sands far away.
The way is long, and winding and slow is the track,
The sharp rocks fret us, the eddies bring us delay,
But we sing sweet songs to our mother, and answer her back;
Gladly we answer our mother, sweetly repay.
Oh, we hear, we hear her singing wherever we roam,
Far, far away in the silence, calling us home.
Poor mortal, your ears are dull, and you cannot hear;
But we, we hear it, the breast of our mother abeat;
Low, far away, sweet and solemn and clear,
Under the hush of the night, under the noon-tide heat:
And we sing sweet songs to our mother, for so we shall please her best,
Songs of beauty and peace, freedom and infinite rest.
We sing, and sing, through the grass and the stones and the reeds,
And we never grow tired, though we journey ever and aye,
Dreaming, and dreaming, wherever the long way leads,
Of the far cool rocks and the rush of the wind and the spray.
Under the sun and the stars we murmur and dance and are free,
And we dream and dream of our mother, the width of the sheltering sea.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Parting Hour
Not yet, dear love, not yet: the sun is high;
You said last night, 'At sunset I will go.'
Come to the garden, where when blossoms die
No word is spoken; it is better so:
Ah! bitter word 'Farewell.'
Hark! how the birds sing sunny songs of spring!
Soon they will build, and work will silence them;
So we grow less light-hearted as years bring
Life's grave responsibilities - and then
The bitter word 'Farewell.'
The violets fret to fragrance 'neath your feet,
Heaven's gold sunlight dreams aslant your hair:
No flower for me! your mouth is far more sweet.
O, let my lips forget, while lingering there,
Love's bitter word 'Farewell.'
Sunset already! have we sat so long?
The parting hour, and so much left unsaid!
The garden has grown silent - void of song,
Our sorrow shakes us with a sudden dread!
Ah! bitter word 'Farewell.'
poem by Olive Custance
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chanson
Fire your arrows ans scatter your enemies,
For the frog in the pond is ready to sing;
But the cleanness of your hands is like the cleannes of your eyes.
You are very dear to my heart like the feet of the deer,
But bring your ears to me to hear my words;
And broaden the path beneath you with my love.
Heaven's messengers proclaim your glory,
And the expanse of the sky declared your love;
For my speech is with knowledge and to the wise,
But i need Chanson tonight to guide you on.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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To Hear Her Sing
To hear her sing--to hear her sing--
It is to hear the birds of Spring
In dewy groves on blooming sprays
Pour out their blithest roundelays.
It is to hear the robin trill
At morning, or the whip-poor-will
At dusk, when stars are blossoming--
To hear her sing--to hear her sing!
To hear her sing--it is to hear
The laugh of childhood ringing clear
In woody path or grassy lane
Our feet may never fare again.
Faint, far away as Memory dwells,
It is to hear the village bells
At twilight, as the truant hears
Them, hastening home, with smiles and tears.
Such joy it is to hear her sing,
We fall in love with everything--
The simple things of every day
Grow lovelier than words can say.
The idle brooks that purl across
The gleaming pebbles and the moss,
We love no less than classic streams--
The Rhines and Arnos of our dreams.
To hear her sing--with folded eyes,
It is, beneath Venetian skies,
To hear the gondoliers' refrain,
Or troubadours of sunny Spain.--
To hear the bulbul's voice that shook
The throat that trilled for Lalla Rookh:
What wonder we in homage bring
Our hearts to her--to hear her sing!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sing My Songs To Me
Sing my songs to me
Sing them to me softly
Sing me sunlight and shadows
Orange groves and meadows
Let your voice ring back my memories
Sing my songs to me
Bring my dreams to me
Bring them from the darkness
Let the minutes and hours
Show my mind strange new flowers
But Id like to know where they go
When the morning comes
Bring my dreams to me
Because it seems to me that there may never be
A better chance to see who I am
Come timelessly dancing
Through my dreams to me
song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Can't Hear The Music
I can't hear the music
although I try each day.
You took it with you when you left me
and then went on your way.
I can't hear the music
and now I cry each day.
You used to play your songs for me
and I used to hear you say
How much you really loved me
and the promises you swore.
And now after all these years
and all my tears
I can't hear the music anymore.
I remember all the nights we spent
and all the songs you'd sing.
They kept me warm as I listened
and oh what joy they'd bring.
In each new song and each new word
I'd revel in your voice.
I never thought there'd be a time
when you would make the choice
to take your songs and leave me
so I could never hear,
never hear the music anymore.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From A Distance
From a distance, the world looks blue and green,
And the snow capped mountains so white.
From a distance the ocean meets the stream,
And the eagle takes to flight.
From a distance, there is harmony
And it echoes through the land.
Its the voice of hope, its the voice of peace,
Its the voice of every man.
From a distance, we all have enough,
And no-one is in need.
There are no guns, no bombs and no disease
No hungry mouths to feed.
For a moment we must be instruments,
Martching in a common band,
Playing songs of hope, playing songs of peace,
Theyre is the songs of every one.
God is watching us, God is watching us,
God is watching us, from a distance.
From a distance, you look like my friend,
Even though we are at war.
From a distance, I cant comprehend,
What all this war is for.
What we need is love and harmony,
Let it echo through the land.
Its the hope of hopes, its the love of loves,
Its the heart of everyone.
Its the hope of hopes, its the love of loves,
Its the song of everyone.
Sing out, songs of hope,
Sing out, songs of freedom,
Sing out, songs of love,
Sing out, songs of peace,
Sing out, songs of justice,
Sing out, songs of harmony,
Sing out, songs of love,
Sing out, everyone,
Sing out, songs of hope,
Sing out, songs of freedom,
Sing out, songs of love,
Sing out, songs of peace,
Sing out, songs of justice,
Sing out, songs in harmony,
Sing out, sing about love,
Sing out, everyone.
Sing out.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Song For You
When I sing
with my voice,
Hearing the sound
from my soul
from my guitar
When I play guitar
with my fingers
hear the songs
from my lovers
from a remote place
When I shout
please hear my echo
hear my song
from the empty cave
When I whistle
hear my songs
from a ship and plane
from a temple
to sing my love song.
When I sing my story
to God and loved ones
Please hear and understand
the story of love
for You and Me.
This is the Love song
Specially For You, my dear,
Listen carefully,
follow your instinct
and intuition.
poem by Lawrence Hiung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To His Lady
(Who asked a Song in Spring)
WHY do you bid your poet sing,
Who has no mind to song--
Who only wants to see the Spring,
Long sought and tarrying long?
The shivering, dreary winter through
My song enshrined my vow;
If then my songs were sweet to you,
Let me be silent now!
Have I not duly sung, my dear,
Your goodness and your grace?
Now that your rival, Spring, is here,
O let me see her face!
The hedge is white with buds of May,
The fields are green with Spring,
Oh, give your bard a holiday:
He does not want to sing!
He wants to listen; all alone,
He wants to steal away
To hear the ring-doves' tender tone,
And what the thrushes say.
He wants to hear what can't be heard
When you and love are near--
The sweet Spring's soft and secret word;
Oh, let him go, my dear!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Songs Of Freedom
Everybody tells me, we love your songs
Your soul is precious, but it just aint good enough
You need a single to help you through
Program directors, they all make the rules
I said, youre kidding, youre putting me on
What about the constitution, freedom of expression
Listen to the music, just feel the sound
Love is the motion, thats what makes the world go around
Sing, songs of freedom
Bring joy to the world
Sing, songs of freedom
Bring joy to the world
Everybody listen, stop and take some time
To understand the world situation
There is no meaning in fighting the way we do
Lets come together and forgive each other
Sing, songs of freedom
Bring joy to the world
Sing, songs of freedom
Bring joy to the world
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early spring
Lord God, can we ask for your presence,
for a sign of your grace
and let your rain, sun and wind contribute
to the wonder of the coming summer
in the decoration of colours from your hand
and let grass, leaves and flowers now appear
and where it is rather dry,
hear my lament.
Lord God, can we ask for your presence,
for birds to whistle in tree branches,
singing songs about the growth that you bring
in the decoration of colours from your hand
that all flowers that this spring brings
becomes a sign, that you still guard us against evil
and let your rain, sun and wind contribute
to new life that appears,
let even my own conceit die, that my life
sing songs about the growth that you bring
and let me act to your will
and remove all inequity, all damage.
Lord God, can we ask for your presence,
that I always keep my eyes on you elevated high,
that the mistakes of my youth disappear
and remove my inequity, that my life
can become aimed to where you lead, bringing your love across
that I glitter like a light, a star in your Pleiades
let your rain, sun and wind contribute
that my life can shine bright for you,
and others can see your character in me,
that the mistakes of my youth disappear
that every word and deed from me represents your great love
to the whole of humanity, my children and wife.
Lord God, can we ask for your presence,
and let your rain, sun and wind contribute
that everyone can know what a wonderful God I serve,
to the wonder of the coming summer,
and others can see your character in me,
and let grass, leaves and flowers now appear.
[Reference: Vroegherfs (Early Autumn) by NP van Wyk Louw.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sing to Me Your Love Songs
Sing to me your love songs.
And I will sing to you,
No blues of those experiences...
I've seen and have lived through.
Sing to me those love songs sung,
And I will sing to you...
Of a love I knew.
With no lasting harmony,
Starting in the beginning when it begun.
I wish, I do...
Since meeting you,
I could begin with a freshness...
Clear of heartbreak,
That seemed to pain as it grew.
I wish, I do...
I could be free,
Of long lasting memories.
That come to haunt...
As in pursuit,
To destroy me emotionally.
Sing!
Sing to me your love songs.
And I'll sing to you...
Of no sorrows I knew.
Sing!
Sing to me of those love songs...
I've been needing desperately.
Don't stop if from eyes tears drop.
This may be the start...
Of pushing old pains kept away.
Sing to me your love songs sweet...
I feel a presence,
Of something wanted I need to stay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Word I Say
A word is dead
until it's said.
And so I say
my word to you.
And what word is it
I say to you?
I have never had
to think it through.
For it has always been
the word I've said
and will say repeatedly
until I'm dead.
The word I say
is what I feel.
The word you hear
has sweet appeal.
So I give to you
the word I've heard
that always and ever
repeats in my being
like the song of a bird
that sings to its mate
and can't hold back
before it's too late
to hear.
That word is love,
my dear.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eight Years Old
SUN, whom the faltering snow-cloud fears,
Rise, let the time of year be May,
Speak now the word that April hears,
Let March have all his royal way;
Bid all spring raise in winter’s ears
All tunes her children hear or play,
Because the crown of eight glad years
On one bright head is set to-day.
II.
What matters cloud or sun to-day
To him who wears the wreath of years
So many, and all like flowers at play
With wind and sunshine, while his ears
Hear only song on every way?
More sweet than spring triumphant hears
Ring through the revel-rout of May
Are these, the notes that winter fears.
III.
Strong-hearted winter knows and fears
The music made of love at play,
Or haply loves the tune he hears
From hearts fulfilled with flowering May,
Whose molten music thaws his ears
Late frozen, deaf but yesterday
To sounds of dying and dawning years,
Now quickened on his deathward way.
IV.
For deathward now lies winter’s way
Down the green vestibule of years
That each year brightens day by day
With flower and shower till hope scarce fears
And fear grows wholly hope of May.
But we—the music in our ears
Made of love’s pulses as they play
The heart alone that makes it hears.
V.
The heart it is that plays and hears
High salutation of to-day.
Tongue falters, hand shrinks back, song fears
Its own unworthiness to play
Fit music for those eight sweet years,
Or sing their blithe accomplished way.
No song quite worth a young child’s ears
Broke ever even from birds in May.
VI.
There beats not in the heart of May,
When summer hopes and springtide fears,
There falls not from the height of day,
When sunlight speaks and silence hears,
So sweet a psalm as children play
And sing, each hour of all their years,
Each moment of their lovely way,
And know not how it thrills our ears.
VII.
Ah child, what are we, that our ears
Should hear you singing on your way,
Should have this happiness? The years
Whose hurrying wings about us play
Are not like yours, whose flower-time fears
Nought worse than sunlit showers in May,
Being sinless as the spring, that hears
Her own heart praise her every day.
VIII.
Yet we too triumph in the day
That bare, to entrance our eyes and ears,
To lighten daylight, and to play
Such notes as darkness knows and fears,
The child whose face illumes our way,
Whose voice lifts up the heart that hears,
Whose hand is as the hand of May
To bring us flowers from eight full years.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Promise Of Spring
JUST a whisper, half-heard,
But our heart knows the word;
Caresses that seem
Like love's lips in a dream;
Yet we know she is here,
The desirèd, the dear,
The love of the year!
In the murmur of boughs,
In the softening of skies,
In the sun on the house,
In the daffodil's green
(Half an inch, half-unseen
Mid the mournful brown mould
Where the rotten leaf lies)
Her story is told.
O Spring, darling Spring,
O sweet days of blue weather
The thrushes shall sing,
Fields shall grow green again,
Daisies be seen again,
Hedges grow white;
Then down the lane,
Grown leafy again,
Shall go lovers together--
Lovers who see again
Sunshine and showers,
Perfume and flowers,
Dewy dear hours,
Dream and delight.
Warm shall nests be again,
Winter's behind us;
Springtime shall find us,
Taking our hands,
Lead us away from the cold and the snow,
Into the green world where primroses grow.
Winter, hard winter, forgotten, forgiven;
All the old pain paid, to seventy times seven,
All the new glory a-glow.
Love, when Spring calls, will you still turn away?
Winter has wooed you in vain, and shall May?
Love, when Spring calls, will you go?
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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