In the Picture Gallery
With palette laden
She sat, as I passed her,
A dainty maiden
Before an Old Master.
What mountain-top is
She bent upon? Ah,
She neatly copies
Murillo's Madonna.
But rapt and brimming
The eyes' full chalice says
The heart builds dreaming
Its fairy-palaces.
* * *
The eighteenth year rolled
By, ere returning,
I greeted the dear old
Scenes with yearning.
With palette laden
She sat, as I passed her,
A faded maiden
Before an Old Master.
But what is she doing?
The same thing still--lo,
Hotly pursuing
That very Murillo!
Her wrist never falters;
It keeps her, that poor wrist,
With panels for altars
And daubs for the tourist.
And so she has painted
Through years unbrightened,
Till hopes have fainted
And hair has whitened.
But rapt and brimming
The eyes' full chalice says
The heart builds dreaming
Its fairy-palaces.
poem by Henrik Johan Ibsen
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Related quotes
Come Away My Heart
to thy madonna call
come away my heart
to thy maiden call
come away my heart
not to thy merchant call
come away my heart
when thy maiden call
come away my heart
bid all thy vile master farewell
when fate of man calls
i to my maiden my heart comes
to my maiden's call
come away my heart
poem by Atimiwoaye Adetunji dayo
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The Wood Fairy’s Well
“Thou hast been to the forest, thou sorrowing maiden,
Where Summer reigns Queen in her fairest array,
Where the green earth with sunshine and fragrance is laden,
And birds make sweet music throughout the long day.
Each step thou hast taken has been over flowers,
Of forms full of beauty—of perfumes most rare,
Why comest thou home, then, with footsteps so weary,
No smiles on thy lip, and no buds in thy hair?”
“Ah! my walk through the wild-wood has been full of sadness,
My thoughts were with him who there oft used to rove,
That stranger with bright eyes and smiles full of gladness
Who first taught my young heart the power of love.
He had promised to come to me ere the bright summer
With roses and sunshine had decked hill and lea.
I, simple and trusting, believed in that promise,
But summer has come, and, alas! where is he?”
“Yes, simple and trusting—ah! child, the old story!
Say, when will thy sex learn that man can forget?
Thy lover was highborn, and thou art but lowly,
Ere this he’s forgotten that ever you met;
But, methought, as I watch’d thee to-day slowly treading
With step full of sadness yon green shady dell,
Thou didst pause by the brink of its bright crystal treasure,
Say, what didst thou see in our Wood Fairy’s Well?”
“No sparkles of promise for me gemmed its surface,
I saw that the rose from my cheek had nigh fled,
That the eyes whose light he never weaned of praising,
Are dimmed by the tears that I for him have shed;
And I felt as I gazed that it would be far better,
E’en though I might grieve to my heart’s inmost core,
That he should forget than, returning to seek me,
Should find me thus changed, and then love me no more.”
“What! love thee no more!—say, to love thee forever!
See, true to my vows, I am here by thy side,
Quick to bear thee away to a fair home of splendor,
To reign there its mistress, my own gentle bride!”
Oh! moment of bliss to that girl heart, grief laden,
The lover so mourned for, no ingrate had grown,
Despite absence and change he stood there by the maiden,
With faith still unshaken and true as her own.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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The Same Old Story
The same old story told again--
The maiden droops her head,
The ripening glow of her crimson cheek
Is answering in her stead.
The pleading tone of a trembling voice
Is telling her the way
He loved her when his heart was young
In Youth's sunshiny day:
The trembling tongue, the longing tone,
Imploringly ask why
They can not be as happy now
As in the days gone by.
And two more hearts, tumultuous
With overflowing joy,
Are dancing to the music
Which that dear, provoking boy
Is twanging on his bowstring,
As, fluttering his wings,
He sends his love-charged arrows
While merrily be sings:
'Ho! ho! my dainty maiden,
It surely can not be
You are thinking you are master
Of your heart, when it is me.'
And another gleaming arrow
Does the little god's behest,
And the dainty little maiden
Falls upon her lover's breast.
'The same old story told again,'
And listened o'er and o'er,
Will still be new, and pleasing, too,
Till 'Time shall be no more.'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Little Maiden
LITTLE maiden are you lonely,
Standing there beside the sea,
Are your blue eyes sad or only
Filled with dreams too fair for me.
Are the summer breezes making
Fairy music on the sand,
And the quiet ripples breaking,
From some sea-girt fairy-land.
Ah, the fragrant flowers never
Fade in that sweet sunny air,
And the fairy people ever
Send you dreams and fancies rare.
Little maiden, you must only
Keep your blue eyes clear and free,
And you never will be lonely,
Standing there beside the sea.
poem by Dollie Radford
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The Knight Speaks
'Thee know not of such a place
thy pleasure, to look upon thy face
for the king thy must see
there awaits thou destiny
thy journey carries thee there
oh dear maiden of flaxen hair'
the handsome knight cries
the maiden looked into his eyes
as the dolphin swam passed the shore
smiled and said, 'speak no more'
into the horizon, the seagulls flew
clouds passed over the sky of blue
she released the dove to fly free
up into the air and over the sea
poem by Rachel Nichols
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So You Disappear
i breathe the scent of your hair
your emerald eyes are closed
there's still some music in the air
feels like time no more flows
we sit, you're in my arms
watching the first daylight gleam
you say: "i like your warmth"
a voice just in a dream
i was dreaming of the wind
i was dreaming like a child
a prince and princess fairy tale
and so you disappear
i was dreaming of the fire
of the time when it was wild
i was dreaming far too sweet
and so you disappear
in chaos waters i do swim
and you're the stone one's thrown into
a frail creature now gets dim
as the gold turns into blue
made me think you were so damn near
like a bright shining star
but reaching out you disappeared
for real you are so very far
i was dreaming of the wind
i was dreaming like a child
a prince and princess fairy tale
and so you disappear
i was dreaming of the fire
of the time when it was wild
i was dreaming far too sweet
and so you disappear
song performed by by Xandria
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Organist
In his dim chapel day by day
The organist was wont to play,
And please himself with fluted reveries;
And all the spirit's joy and strife,
The longing of a tender life,
Took sound and form upon the ivory keys;
And though he seldom spoke a word,
The simple hearts that loved him heard
His glowing soul in these.
One day as he wrapped, a sound
Of feet stole near; he turned and found
A little maid that stood beside him there.
She started, and in shrinking-wise
Besought him with her liquid eyes
And little features, very sweet and spare.
'You love the music, child,' he said,
And laid his hand upon her head,
And smoothed her matted hair.
She answered, 'At the door one day
I sat and heard the organ play;
I did not dare to come inside for fear;
But yesterday, a little while,
I crept half up the empty aisle
And heard the music sounding sweet and clear;
To-day I thought you would not mind,
For, master dear, your face was kind,
And so I came up here.'
'You love the music then,' he said,
And still he stroked her golden head,
And followed out some winding reverie;
'And you are poor?' said he at last;
The maiden nodded, and he passed
His hand across his forehead dreamingly;
'And will you be my friend?' he spake,
'And on the organ learn to make
Grand music here with me?'
And all the little maiden's face
Was kindled with a grateful grace;
'Oh, master, teach me; I will slave for thee!'
She cried; and so the child grew dear
To him, and slowly year by year
He taught her all the organ's majesty;
And gave her from his slender store
Bread and warm clothing, that no more
Her cheeks were pinched to see.
And year by year the maiden grew
Taller and lovelier, and the hue
Deepened upon her tender cheeks untried.
Rounder, and queenlier, and more fair
Her form grew, and her golden hair
Fell yearly richer at the master's side.
In speech and bearing, form and face,
Sweeter and graver, grace by grace,
Her beauties multiplied.
And sometimes at his work a glow
Would touch him, and he murmured low
'How beautiful she is?' and bent his head;
And sometimes when the day went by
And brought no maiden he would sigh,
And lean and listen to her velvet tread;
And he would drop his hands and say,
'My music cometh not to-day;
Pray God she be not dead!'
So the sweet maiden filled his heart,
And with her growing grew his art,
For day by day more wondrously he played.
Such heavenly things the master wrought,
That in his happy dreams he thought,
The organ's self did love the gold-haired maid:
But she, the maiden, never guessed-
What prayers for her in hours of rest
The sombre organ prayed.
At last, one summer morning fair,
The maiden came with braided hair,
And took his hands, and held them eagerly.
'To-morrow is my wedding day;
Dear master, bless me that the way
Of life be smooth, not bitter unto me.'
He stirred not; but the light did go
Out of his shrunken cheeks, and oh!
His head hung heavily.
'You love him, then?' 'I love him well,'
She answered, and a numbness fell
Upon his eyes and all his heart that bled.
A glory, half a smile, abode
Within the maiden's eyes and glowed
Upon her parted lips. The master said,
'God bless and bless thee, little maid,
With peace and long delight,' and laid
His hands upon her head.
And she was gone; and all that day
The hours crept up and slipped away,
And he sat still, as moveless as a stone.
The night came down, with quiet stars,
And darkened him: in coloured bars
Along the shadowy aisle the moonlight shone.
And then the master woke and passed
His hands across the keys at last,
And made the organ moan.
The organ shook, the music wept;
For sometimes like a wail it crept
In broken moanings down the shadows drear;
And otherwhiles the sound did swell,
And like a sudden tempest fell
Through all the windows wonderful and clear.
The people gathered from the street,
And filled the chapel seat by seat-
They could not choose but hear.
And there they sat till dawning light,
Nor ever stirred to awe. 'To-night,
The master hath a noble mood,' they said.
But on a sudden ceased the sound:
Like ghosts the people gathered round,
And on the keys they found his fallen head.
The silent organ had received
The master's broken heart relieved,
And he was white and dead.
poem by Archibald Lampman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Some Grievances
My heart beats so fast and does me inspire,
My patience has gone and now my calm desire,
Fate plays with me, and with chance comprise,
Of my emotions I see burning in the fire.
My thoughts are wounded and heart is full of pain,
A faithless mate has spoiled my brain,
Exchange of love, a broken heart I'd only gain,
Seeing any fairy, why my eyes begins to rain?
With this faithless world I have been fed up,
Why I always embrace false and shock,
I dream flying in the air a high up,
But find myself beneath destiny rock.
O time! Why thou snatched my golden past,
Where will was getting something vast,
And would forget what had been lost,
Ever I would be swift, spirited and more fast.
O era! Why are you pushing me so far behind?
And shining world's rolled me on the ground,
And badly influenced of my calm mind,
A faithful and true mate I've never found.
Why fortune is so graceful in palaces who born?
Or whose eyes open in golden walls or pelf,
But, why for poor it has only grief and scorn,
In this unlucky row I also find myself.
Flowers are pretty as they've good fragrance,
And sky is as high above as it is endless,
And ocean is so deep as it shores make distance,
But, why a childlike fairy is so beautiful as merciless.
(composed on February 12,2007)
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
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What Is A Hero
A hero is a Dad,
who carries your heart onto his with his unconditional love.
A hero is a Dad,
who builds your first pair of wings to enable you to fly on your own.
A hero is a Dad,
who builds your faith when all hope tumbles out from your heart.
A hero is a Dad,
who builds you a magical ladder to keep you high off the ground.
A hero is a Dad,
who builds your confidence so you make it through the wind and rain.
A hero is a Dad,
who builds your strength beyond his own when your life with pain collides.
A hero is a Dad,
who knows when he must step aside when another hero has come to carry your heart onto his.
A hero is a Dad,
who builds his strength of having to let go when walking his little girl down the aisle to place her heart onto the heart of another hero.
poem by Linda Patino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Not a Fairy Angel, My Dear..
10 years old boy asked me:
“Is fairy angel real?
If yes, I wish you would be my fairy angel
So I just call out your name anytime I need you
Even in the midst of sorrows, I can run to you
You will wave your magical stick
And I will see a beautiful garden full with candies and chocolates
Milky fountains and freshness air
No tears and no pains
When happiness would be the only thing allowed
Is it real? ”
Then he looks into my eyes
Both of us know that I am not the fairy angel
And we are live not in the fairy land
-
Jakarta,070324
poem by George Sicillia
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dreamin'
Close your eyes and take a look at your life
Do you like what you see
My eyes are open but I feel like I'm blind, it's all returning to me
I wanna know, does a frozen river flow
Things you said fill my head lying in a cold and empty bed
I'm only dreaming
Between the darkness and the light
I'm only dreaming, oooh
Dreaming, can't tell the daylight from the night
I'm only dreaming, dreaming
I feel the sunlight shining down on my face
Not a cloud in my mind
I get my wake up but it never comes in time
My prayers are spoken and I wait to receive
'Cause there's a fine line between the truth and how we want it to be
I'm only dreaming
Between the darkness and the light
I'm only dreaming, oooh
Dreaming, can't tell the daylight from the night
I'm only dreaming, dreaming
I'm sailing like a ship on the sea
I don't care if I'm lost in the haze
I hear the angels singing something to me
Time's the enemy
That you never see
Won't you come slip away
I am only dreaming
I'm only dreaming
I am only dreaming
Yeah
I'm only dreaming
I am only dreaming
I'm only dreaming
Yeah
I am only dreaming
Dreaming
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Church
Painted angels guard the altars;
And rest and shadows; beam from blue eyes.
In incense-fumes dirty lyes swim.
Figures stagger woebegone in the emptiness.
In the black kneeler a smallish whore
With faded cheeks resembles the Madonna.
In golden beams wax figures hang;
Moon and sun circle the white-bearded God.
A shine of soft columns and skeletons.
The sweet voices of boys died at the chancel.
Very quietly rapt colors move,
A flowing red from Magdalene's lips.
A pregnant woman goes astray in grave dreams
Through this twilight full of masks, flags.
Her shadow crosses the saints' still ways,
The angel's rest in lime-washed rooms.
poem by Georg Trakl
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One for the Road
Untainted bliss
Infinite ebullience
There are no words
To convey happiness
The mirth brimming
In our half-full goblet
And half-empty eyes
I have never been clearer
To anybody's eyes
I never had words
I never possessed one
But with sealed lips
And bolted spirit
You offered your arms
Persistently you
Dwelled in my feigned hue
Of darkness and nonchalance
I would never know why
You painted an allegiance
In colors, in shades
Of doubles-sided blades
Sharing pains
And likewise hate
In sympathy and empathy
I have never been
In naked honesty
Our vessels
And our goblets
I'll have one for the road
Or two if I could
Keep one night in my head
In my sleep and in my wake
I shall remember you
Golden chains
I will carry you.
The mirth brimming
In our half-full goblet
And half-empty eyes
I have nev
poem by Norman Santos
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Winter Evening
To-night the very horses springing by
Toss gold from whitened nostrils. In a dream
The streets that narrow to the westward gleam
Like rows of golden palaces; and high
From all the crowded chimneys tower and die
A thousand aureoles. Down in the west
The brimming plains beneath the sunset rest,
One burning sea of gold. Soon, soon shall fly
The glorious vision, and the hours shall feel
A mightier master; soon from height to height,
With silence and the sharp unpitying stars,
Stern creeping frosts, and winds that touch like steel,
Out of the depth beyond the eastern bars,
Glittering and still shall come the awful night.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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The Maiden From Afar
Within a vale, each infant year,
When earliest larks first carol free,
To humble shepherds cloth appear
A wondrous maiden, fair to see.
Not born within that lowly place--
From whence she wandered, none could tell;
Her parting footsteps left no trace,
When once the maiden sighed farewell.
And blessed was her presence there--
Each heart, expanding, grew more gay;
Yet something loftier still than fair
Kept man's familiar looks away.
From fairy gardens, known to none,
She brought mysterious fruits and flowers--
The things of some serener sun--
Some Nature more benign than ours.
With each her gifts the maiden shared--
To some the fruits, the flowers to some;
Alike the young, the aged fared;
Each bore a blessing back to home.
Though every guest was welcome there,
Yet some the maiden held more dear,
And culled her rarest sweets whene'er
She saw two hearts that loved draw near.
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Dreaming
Close your eyes and take a look at your life
Do you like what you see
My eyes are open but I feel like Im blind, its all returning to me
I wanna know, does a frozen river flow
Things you said fill my head lying in a cold and empty bed
Im only dreaming
Between the darkness and the light
Im only dreaming, oooh
Dreaming, cant tell the daylight from the night
Im only dreaming, dreaming
I feel the sunlight shining down on my face
Not a cloud in my mind
I get my wake up but it never comes in time
My prayers are spoken and I wait to receive
cause theres a fine line between the truth and how we want it to be
Im only dreaming
Between the darkness and the light
Im only dreaming, oooh
Dreaming, cant tell the daylight from the night
Im only dreaming, dreaming
Im sailing like a ship on the sea
I dont care if Im lost in the haze
I hear the angels singing something to me
(? )come dream of me(? ), that you never see
Wont you come slip away
[solo] I am only dreaming
Im only dreaming (x 6)
Dreaming
Dreaming.
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When a Merry Maiden Marries
When a merry maiden marries,
Sorrow goes and pleasure tarries;
Every sound becomes a song,
All is right and nothing's wrong!
From to-day and ever after
Let your tears be tears of laughter -
Every sigh that finds a vent
Be a sigh of sweet content!
When you marry merry maiden,
Then the air with love is laden;
Every flower is a rose,
Every goose becomes a swan,
Every kind of trouble goes
Where the last year's snows have gone;
Sunlight takes the place of shade
When you marry merry maid!
When a merry maiden marries
Sorrow goes and pleasure tarries;
Every sound becomes a song,
All is right, and nothing's wrong.
Gnawing Care and aching Sorrow,
Get ye gone until to-morrow;
Jealousies in grim array,
Ye are things of yesterday!
When you marry merry maiden,
Then the air with joy is laden;
All the corners of the earth
Ring with music sweetly played,
Worry is melodious mirth,
Grief is joy in masquerade;
Sullen night is laughing day -
All the year is merry May!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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My Fair Silver Maiden
Oh my fair silver maiden
I see your eyes in the stars that light the dark,
Your hair in the swaying summer grass,
Your smile in the majestic sunrise
Oh my fair silver maiden
Your scent is always on the next wind
Your sweet, intoxicating scent.
Oh my fair silver maiden
Tell me where you are
So that I might find you
And my heart be complete.
Oh my fair silver maiden
How I long for you
How I cry for you
How I search for you.
Oh my fair silver maiden
Always beyond the next wind.
Tell me where you are
So that I might find you
And my heart be complete.
Oh my fair silver maiden.
poem by Cameron Bird
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The Maiden's Song
Good-morning, sun, 'mid the leaves so green --
Mind of youth in the dales' deep reaches,
Smile that brightens their somber speeches,
Heaven's gold on our earth-dust seen!
Good-morning, sun, o'er the royal tower!
Kindly thou beckonest forth each maiden;
Kindle each heart as a star light-laden,
Twinkling so clear, though a sad night lower!
Good-morning, sun, o'er the mountain-side!
Light the land that still sleep disguises
Till it awakens and fresh arises
For yonder day in thy warmth's full tide!
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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Misty-Eyed Maiden
Oh! Misty-eyed maiden!
Your lovely eyes laden with tears.
You weep for your unborn babes
As when Rachel weepeth for her children.
The hour cometh speedily
When your flowing tears
Will mingle with the dust
And be trampled under many feet.
'Twill be useless to cry then,
For men of great avarice
Doth ascend the thrones
Of this fallen world.
So then, cry on misty-eyed maiden;
Weep your heart out,
For soon 'twill all be over
And that terrible holocaust come!
poem by Enoch John
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