Let Me Wake Up Young
Let me wake up young at early dawn again
And welcome the showers of spring first rain
Let me love and peer up at the morning sun
With half shut eyes and comfortable fresh cheek
Let me live a sweet life tale full often to seek
Through meadows and pathless woods where rivers fall and run
Let me love again my brightest beautiful one
Of heaven and divine let me slowly speak
These love tunes to the night and the starlight meek
Or the moon, if that her hunting be begun
Let me know, let me relive these delights and be prone
To moralize upon a smile and a tear
And find at once a region in a world of my own
A meadow, a bower for my spirit where it will steer
To alleys of forest gloom where pine tree dropp their cone
Where foxes hide, robins chirp and leaves are fallen sere
Let me wake up in strength and vigor hope
Worship the morning, the mystic night, the light the shade and lush lea on slope
Let me glance again fresh on wide plains, fair foliage trees, and at sprouting flowers
Call on birds over clear streams, smooth calm lakes, and long stretched bowers
Let me lost in the happiness of pathless woods with tall towers
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Related quotes
Sonnet. On Leigh Hunt's Poem 'The Story of Rimini
Who loves to peer up at the morning sun,
With half-shut eyes and comfortable cheek,
Let him with this sweet tale full often seek
For meadows where the little rivers run;
Who loves to linger with that brightest one
Of Heaven -- Hesperus -- let him lowly speak
These numbers to the night and starlight meek,
Or moon, if that her hunting be begun.
He who knows these delights, and, too, is prone
To moralize upon a smile or tear,
Will find at once a region of his own,
A bower for his spirit, and will steer
To alleys where the fir-tree drops its cone,
Where robins hop, and fallen leaves are sear.
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My lover and I
When the ever resilient nightingale to his date
Chirrups his songs day long and night late
My love and I keep our sweet state
In the lush and balmy bower
Of varieties bursting blooming flowers
Sweetening with love chat the fresh young air
All day from rose cheeked morning till dusk we are there
Till the watchman guarding in the tower
Announces the approaching close hour
The gored vermilion sun sank in the West
And the night rests on canopies and on crests
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Love lost
She was so cruel and capricious making me bury our love
Not in a grave yard under a sluttish tomb stone
But beneath a tall oak tree of a forest dark, wide and alone
Where none can come across or see from above
There will be no memorial days or sad hours
And I shall never visit the tree or put flowers
Yet the mouth I loved so much to kiss and to treat
Was none like so daring and bittersweet
I shall never go to the under tree love grave
For the woods are hostile, dark and cold
My time I shall for new love save
New love, new joy, constrain the rebel heart, forget the old
All day long I shall stay in the sun
Where the wide winds blow and flowers bloom
But oh, I shall cry at night for my sorrow is still undone
When none will know my time of agony and gloom
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I dread the calm
I dread the calm in the morning of a mourn without a sound
It is a calm that comes to foster a greater grief
It is a calm light of dusk before ever dew was falling from leaves
It is a calm sinking in calm pattering to the ground
I fear the calm and scudding winds in the high wold
And on the dews the drench the gorse
And all the silvery gossamer
Shaken into gilded gold
Is it calm and still in the dusky light over great plains
That sweeps late and swiftly in autumn bowers
Of secluded farms and solitary towers
To merge with the bounding and the saint
Is it calm on the vast sea under the spangled silver sleep
The waves that sway in colossus to lull themselves to rest
And the dead calm in the deepening breast
Which heaves with the heaving deep
Yet calm is the mute peace in the meadow’s air
The forest gloom with loom of leaves that redden to fall
And in my chest if calm can ever dwell at all
If any calm is there, it is the calm of despair
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There will come
There will come upon the earth, calm spring time
When soft rains fall and raise the adores of wet ground
And flowers leap and bloom into their prime
As the swallows circle and bounce in vast meadows, shimmering sound
And no one will know of my time under the sun
And no one will reflect or contemplate of my days, not one
Not even one would mind, neither happy bird on a bough tree
That I have perished; erased diminished with no memory utterly
Come red black Robins and wear your feathery fire,
Whistling your whims on a low summer wind stirring fence-wire
And fat oily frogs in a garden pool, sing your rhythm all night
And tree heavy with late season foliage play the wind that turn you white
The world will go on as we do when an acquaintance dies
We hurry to burry and move as if it never concerns our fates; blinding our eyes
Oh that first Spring after death, herself when she wakes at dawn
Minding her course would scarcely notice that we were gone.
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Song VII: Dawn Talks to Day
Dawn talks to Day
Over dew-gleaming flowers,
Night flies away
Till the resting of hours:
Fresh are thy feet
And with dreams thine eyes glistening,
Thy still lips are sweet
Though the world is a-listening.
O Love, set a word in my mouth for our meeting,
Cast thine arms round about me to stay my heart's beating!
O fresh day, O fair day, O long day made ours!
Morn shall meet noon
While the flower-stems yet move,
Though the wind dieth soon
And the clouds fade above.
Loved lips are thine
As I tremble and hearken;
Bright thine eyes shine,
Though the leaves thy brow darken.
O Love, kiss me into silence, lest no word avail me,
Stay my head with thy bosom lest breath and life fail me!
O sweet day, O rich day, made long for our love!
Late day shall greet eve,
And the full blossoms shake,
For the wind will not leave
The tall trees while they wake.
Eyes soft with bliss,
Come nigher and nigher!
Sweet mouth I kiss,
Tell me all thy desire!
Let us speak, love, together some words of our story,
That our lips as they part may remember the glory!
O soft day, O calm day, made clear for our sake!
Eve shall kiss night,
And the leaves stir like rain
As the wind stealeth light
O'er the grass of the plain.
Unseen are thine eyes
Mid the dreamy night's sleeping,
And on my mouth there lies
The dear rain of thy weeping.
Hold silence, love, speak not of the sweet day departed,
Cling close to me, love, lest I waken sad-hearted!
O kind day, O dear day, short day, come again!
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oh that it were possible
Oh that it were possible
After long grief and pain
You walk in the path of amiable
Innocence and repentance plain
And your bare sole
Will touch the field scudding chaffs
The meadow wheat elongated spikes will dagger your soul
And the wind will blow your skirt in halves
A throng of persistent rain drops caress
Your neck, your shoulders and your fresh head
And as you walk wet and soaked and careless
You shall see the vermillion canopy of dawn’s shade
And you stand breast high amid gilded wheat field
Clasped by the golden light of a bright morning yield
Like a sweet creature a beloved of the sun
You draw many glowing kisses like one
And you rush brushing ankle-high in a sea of flowers
And you hear the wind behind playing in thousands waves of golden wheat
And you breath nostrils wide the field sweet
As the cows thick with milk and the buzzing bees honey your hour
Tranquility and calm will extend within thee newly bred
As a ray of dusk breaks through the edge of a dark cloud
And you will be free from scalp to sole of any doubt
Like a bird in the sky your soul will fly without a dread
And you shall smell the fresh cut field’s furrows
As your breath grows calm as a nun
And you will watch the waning sun
In the mirror of a puddle wrapped in golden rows
And things turn so simple and apparent in life
Calm without a struggle or the din of a strife
And you can touch, and you can live under secure heaven above
And you can love! And you can love! And you can love!
Oh that it were possible
After long grief and pain
You walk in the path of freedom lane
Untouched by scourging fire along or by storms of evil
And you fall into innocence and repentance plain
And the divine spirit will canopy your life a whole
And you will be shy and innocent again
Like a lawn; like a lea; like a new born soul
Oh that it were possible
After long grief and pain
You walk wandering towards your beauteous hours
When summer haze hangs over short simmering showers
To be welcomed by lush grass and sprouting flowers
And you wonder in peace while you pace along
As the fields and woods are full with whisper and song
And shall be without a slough, a crust of sin or any other touch of wrong
And you shall stay away from the basest of mankind
Debark and astray from them with a clear mind
And let them be who harm you all these years
For them you shade no vows; from them withhold your tears
Let them keep battering the gates of heaven with fruitless pray
“Have mercy Lord, Take my flaws away”
Oh that it were possible
After long grief and pain
From this fearful thing you abstain
Of glancing back at the gloom of miss-spent years
When your heart sweats and weeps with a thousand tears
And you shall forgive these wild wandering cries
Confusions of wasted years; a beam of hope breaks through
Portrayed in shapes and shades of feeling of yearning true
To illuminate your night of darkness and to cheer your aching eyes
Oh that it were possible
After long grief and pain
You walk these pastures after rain
A pleasant gale urging breaks behind
And bruit your song to the very creatures in the grass down
Rain drops aflutter with gentle wind
Will fall on your goddess like shape gown
And on the wilding brooch of your dress
From which gilded drops fall on your breast
And you break forth from all past enslaving love
And you adore the freedom bestowed from heaven above
Oh that it were possible
After long grief and pain
You bridge back the river of your youth's years
To the first fountain of innocent love smiles and tears
And you would not trace again the stream of human lukewarm hours
Between outworn banks of life withered flowers
Nor shall you bid your time flow until it ripples and glides
Into number of meaningless nameless love wavelets tides
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I stand and watch a tree of sturdy oak
I stand and watch a tree of sturdy oak
It braves against the rain, the sun and the gust
Thunder roars through its boughs with blast
Yet its leaves whitening in sight like a royal cloak
An oak proclaims against echoing dunes and scourging sun
Through the storm, tempest and chilly damp dark
Its boughs wave against torrents and bent in arcs
As it stands against the events like a calm nun
The clouds above its foliage are straining
The pale yellow woods around its trunk are waning
And a broad stream by its roots is complaining
Of heavy low skies constantly raining
With one black self reflected shadow at its feet
the oak through all its lush foliage shines
As summer haze brooding heat
And holy still silent in its dusty lusty vines
Oh I wish I had the strength and stamina of this oak
My life would be so much in a better clock
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The butterfly
I have watched a butterfly now a full half hour
So self-poised upon a yellow budding flower
And a huge winged butterfly with all rainbow colors indeed
I know not if it sleeps or it feeds
How in pure calm motionless it stands on leaf so thin
Even more still as it visits a stump pale with green
And then what joy waits it when the light breeze
Has found it out among the trees
It carried it up, down and away
A whole world on a spangled ray
This plot of Orchard-ground is ours
My son's trees they are, My family flowers
Stop here whenever you are jaded and worry
And take a rest in our green sanctuary
Visit our rich wreathe glorious foreheads of lofty pines
And breathe ambrosial passion from their veins
By the balmy flowers seek refuge from human eye
And smell their scent being shoot to the sky
Come often to us fear no wrong
Sit near us on a balmy bloom of a bough long
We will talk of sunshine and of song
And summer days long lost, for ever gone
When we were young and strong
Our days of youth vigor and rapture sealed in our memory’s throng
My fragile creature, stay, do not take haste your flight
A little longer stray around, delay in my sight
So many converses I have with you in a day bright
You are the historian of my infancy
With you around I can relive my fantasies
Float longer near me, do not yet depart
Tell me again the days of my childhood of lost heart
My sweet times in you I revive
Gay creature as you are to you I owe my strive
You bring solemn images of happy times to my heart
…..
These innocent days of sun and joy free of care
With no worries no burden of life to bare
How sweet, how pleasant were these days
The times when in our childish plays
Some giggling budding girls, few boys and I
Together chased you the flying butterfly
A very hunter did I rush
Upon my prey I leapt, I sprang, I fell
And the heavy odor of the trodden grass I smell
Oh that precious moment in me forever dwells
I lay on my back aloof and watched the sky
The thin gray cloud was spread on high
Sealed and carved in my bosom stone
Inside my very marrow bone
I got up and followed you from brake to bush
In open meadows in dales over brooks and creeks
As the sun of dusk sets behind the mountains peaks
But at the very last moment I feared to brush
The feathered dust from off your wings
This sweet joyful time makes my heart sink
Under huge broad-breast old oak tree lush and green
With trunk and boughs spread with bubbles skin
There under the tree in the warm summer day
I kissed a young maid with gems entangled in her hair
The day was not harsh no clouds in gray
The forest was in full foliage not bare
And the wind moaned soughing bleak
As I kissed her warm enthralling cheek
Yet there was not enough wind in the air
To move away the bright ringlet curl
From her lovely soft cheek
The swans’ lake flapped their wings
And trumped their shrieks in full beak to sing
And as I was sunk in this heavenly bliss
My eyes caught in swift a glance of the lovely valley of her breast
The smell of her silken robe and the scent of her inner vest
Shy and perplexed at her first maiden kiss
Painting in passionate pangs she looked for a liss
She folded her arms beneath her cloak
And she stole to the other side of the oak
At once into the summer air you bounced and flew
And took my joyous soul to fly away with you
Fly, Fly and tower into vaults of heights and heavenly bowers
Creature of sun and joy, wind and sky
My memories of past glory, my soul are with you even as I die
And return to us right after spring thundering showers
Guard yourself from the evil behind your magnificent wings
Hide yourself from the storm, the rain, and the howling winds
The forest gloom foster danger with deadly weight
which haunts us in some sad reverse of fate
Pass by lakes pores and ocean shores
Leap and rest on the back of cloudy rack sailing in ore
A child born out of his mother sweet womb
To turn into a hovering ghost over his stone tomb
Fly butterfly over earth and ocean with waving holy motion
Ride on winds that shake the dew drops that wake
The sweet budding spring flowers in balmy bowers
Carry these divine memories of joy and love to contend eternally with stars above.
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The willow
How beautiful is the willow in April gown
Delicate and gleaming under the sun
Never minding the seasons and years gone
It stands, long flowery drippings and soft wind sigh
Spring does not call me as it use to
With sprouts in vast meadows and balmy flowers of variety hues
No more shall I renew myself with the world every spring
With heavy leafy boughs crowded with birds in sing
Willow, Willow sway, twinkle, lull in the sun
Your leaves, same leaves of my past days gone
Welcome me as the spring use to in wild laugh and fun
Oh let me answer the spring again for my days are still undone
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Live and love
Live and love
Young as old
Like running brook
Bright, distilled in spring
As Love strengthens its wings
Summer – vigor
Passion and quiver
Autumn changed
Soberer hued
Don’t miss love queue
Love again
Until all love’s leaves
Are fallen at length
Look at love, it stands
Bones and boughs
Naked strength
Die loving
Not love dying
At the end of your sky
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The Parting
The chestnut steed stood by the gate
His noble master's will to wait,
The woody park so green and bright
Was glowing in the morning light,
The young leaves of the aspen trees
Were dancing in the morning breeze.
The palace door was open wide,
Its lord was standing there,
And his sweet lady by his side
With soft dark eyes and raven hair.
He smiling took her wary hand
And said, 'No longer here I stand;
My charger shakes his flowing mane
And calls me with impatient neigh.
Adieu then till we meet again,
Sweet love, I must no longer stay.'
'You must not go so soon,' she said,
'I will not say farewell.
The sun has not dispelled the shade
In yonder dewy dell;
Dark shadows of gigantic length
Are sleeping on the lawn;
And scarcely have the birds begun
To hail the summer morn;
Then stay with me a little while,'
She said with soft and sunny smile.
He smiled again and did not speak,
But lightly kissed her rosy cheek,
And fondly clasped her in his arms,
Then vaulted on his steed.
And down the park's smooth winding road
He urged its flying speed.
Still by the door his lady stood
And watched his rapid flight,
Until he came to a distant wood
That hid him from her sight.
But ere he vanished from her view
He waved to her a last adieu,
Then onward hastily he steered
And in the forest disappeared.
The lady smiled a pensive smile
And heaved a gently sigh,
But her cheek was all unblanched the while
And tearless was her eye.
'A thousand lovely flowers,' she said,
'Are smiling on the plain.
And ere one half of them are dead,
My lord will come again.
The leaves are waving fresh and green
On every stately tree,
And long before they die away
He will return to me!' --
Alas! Fair lady, say not so;
Thou canst not tell the weight of woe
That lies in store for thee.
Those flowers will fade, those leaves will fall,
Winter will darken yonder hall;
Sweet spring will smile o'er hill and plain
And trees and flowers will bloom again,
And years will still keep rolling on,
But thy beloved lord is gone.
His absence thou shalt deeply mourn,
And never smile on his return.
poem by Anne Brontë
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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An Autumn Night
An autumn night, so bitter chill it is
An owl, for all its plum and thick feathers is cold
The hare long ago rushed limping trembling through the frozen maze
Into a lair, and silent stark are the song birds on a woody enfold
Naked trees with barren boughs, no leaf does tremble, no ripple there
On the streets, all abandoned still under the night sleepy eye
The world so deserted from any human sign or care
Darkness reign on dreary routes with echoing cry
And the moon whether prudish or shy in this cold night
Has fled to her bower, well reluctant to lend her dimming light
No light in this oppressing darkness, no fume no torch in the gloom
Is this world ever waken, do these trees ever bloom
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Two beneath a shady tree
They were two beneath a shady tree cover
An old oak tree with blistered trunk and bark failing over
Like the hand of an old man with frail eyes
Yet leaves and fresh sprouts from its boughs shot to the skies
An old sturdy oak tree under summer sun
In mid of golden wheat clustered by the wind run
The waves of the wheat heads combed by gale and breeze
As the two set and made themselves at calm ease
They set and watched the golden field swaying in dance
The broken roar and the dim din of a remote city at horizon glance
She was beautiful and shy like a violet by a mossy wall stone
She set by him hidden and through his eyes she was only his own
They set beneath the tree, their life yet untrodden path
They spoke the first verses of love with joy and laugh
What was to come they knew not; merely the glory of that hour to bear
since they were innocent and pure; the masters of the days that were
They gathered roses from the field while they may
Unaware of old time that was still to carry them flying
A world so harsh where love grows and fleets away
They fell to play losing no time in grieving and sighing
And so they sat beneath an old oak before the sun in dusky skies
veiled his fair locks of child hair while he did spy
The unclouded luster that dwelled in her slaying eyes
Her bashful beauties once descried
The vanquished flowers around lost their pride
And in their vermilion buds their blushing they did hide
Losing their balmy fresh summer smell
They would never admit or tell
How much her sweets by far their own did excel.
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A Day Of Laugh And Love In The Sun
A day of laugh and love in the sun
The winds blew gently through whitening leaves as naked flames
The scent of spring flowers spread softly as carried by hands of a nun
Sea and vast echoing duns, her sound speaking, repeating my name
My name on her voluptuous lips erupted my heart so high
That there was noting left inside me; my spirit flew free
Bouncing on the sands; lifting into the vaults of boundless sky
Diving into the sapphire depth of the magic sea
A day of laugh and love in the sun
Where are you day? where you hide where you run?
All I know your comrades days gray and slow come and go one by one
Her picture froze; never to return to meadows and do the not done
The day of laugh and love do not hesitate, come not of late
Flinging the gloom secluded nights
On my painful heart; bring back your joy, laugh and lights
Pull me, take me out of this horrible mind of state
Come again with morning fresh light mist
With her again, the beauty queen whose stately brow
The dew pearled winds of dawn have kissed
So incorrigibly I yearn to re play that day in meadow and in show
Stay on her floating locks and lovely freight
Of overflowing blooms, and earliest shoots
In lea of green hues, yielding safe pledge to their fruits
we will watch the bird leading her soft colored broods
Now in cold winter tide on what shall I hope or stare?
Except naked trunks, and the black frigid earth with brilliance rare.
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A Magical Wish
One day I would like to go
To a distant and quiet place
Where nobody would find me,
Not even the dusty wind
And from you, I would be far away…
A place where tranquility prevails
And the pure air dominates the skies,
The fresh air that would greet my lungs
And give me the strength
That I can't afford to waste
In my pursuit to sing a new song…
A sublime and comfortable place
Where the happy singing birds
Would gently wake me up every day,
Letting me know in a sweet way
That is time to wash my craggy face
With the magical morning's dew
This would help me recapture,
From yesterday,
My early restless -youth…
In this new place, I would call home,
I would recreate a World of my own,
Where I would welcome each day
The warming and smiling Sun
With a distinctive sign that says:
"Love and Peace for always"...
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poem by Romeo Della Valle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You have stormed into my life
You have stormed into my life
You have stolen from me the fire so suddenly without a strife
From the fountains of the past
Left me with none for all others craving lust
All too insignificant for my memory to bother
To glorify the present, you haste and gather
The smoulding ashes to rekindle my low forgotten desire
Stunned as I am against this ancient days fire
Against you I put these lofty steep walls
I fortified my determinations with thick deep trenches
None are a match for the lurid passionate launches
As deep are the moats around me or the towers tall
They are all doomed to melt to dry out and to fall
There, there is the waxing moon in its orbit set so beautiful now
With ore and grace that none can disavow
Goes to the rhythm of the day
Gliding the mirror face of the bay
Gliding the flowers' beds
Gliding the reed's blades
Gliding the golden hours of the night
The meadow, lea and bower under cover bright
Come swiftly come not of late
While the moon is still in its orbit state
Come before the clouds wrapped in morning mists
Strengthen me; enlighten me with your passionate kiss
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Morning Spring
The foul mist has been replaced in the greening plain,
And the dew-drops shine on the ear lop of a balmy rose, not rain,
The coquette rose awakes facing East again
Its lovely self adorning in such fresh scent morning with no strain.
Oh, the vast plain is grassy, untamed wild and bare
Wild, wanton and wide open to the morning air
Which has built up everywhere
Making the little rabbit to the meadow tread and dare
upon the far horizon blue peaks in the distance rise
And ivory white against the cold sapphire sky
Shine out of the crowing crests of snow
Beneath their line the bushes stretching in a dominant grow
The morning wind is hiding, sighing, dodging among the trees,
A sighing, soothing, laughing tease, of glee, not tears
The sun is rising in bright dusk skies
Veils his fair head of glory while contently he spies
This morning it is my love unclouded luster of her eyes
Her beauty shines as nature does; and once it descried
The jealous vanquish roses lose their bursting pride
And back into their home buds their blushes hide
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With The Lark
Night is for sorrow and dawn is for joy,
Chasing the troubles that fret and annoy;
Darkness for sighing and daylight for song,--
Cheery and chaste the strain, heartfelt and strong.
All the night through, though I moan in the dark,
I wake in the morning to sing with the lark.
Deep in the midnight the rain whips the leaves,
Softly and sadly the wood-spirit grieves.
But when the first hue of dawn tints the sky,
I shall shake out my wings like the birds and be dry;
And though, like the rain-drops, I grieved through the dark,
I shall wake in the morning to sing with the lark.
On the high hills of heaven, some morning to be,
Where the rain shall not grieve thro' the leaves of the tree,
There my heart will be glad for the pain I have known,
For my hand will be clasped in the hand of mine own;
And though life has been hard and death's pathway been dark,
I shall wake in the morning to sing with the lark.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Who would be there to tell me
Who would be there to tell me
When I catch my falling star
where all my past years are
Many friends of mine in owe and plea
The ones I stirred for love like industrious bee
Here rests his head upon the lap of earth
A man to fortune and to fame is unknown
Fair science frowned not in his humble birth
And misfortune with melancholy marked him for their own
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere
Heaven did a recommence as largely said
He gave to misery all he had, a tear
He gained from Heaven, it was all he wished, he never fret
No further seek his merits to disclose
Or draw his frailties from their clear abode
There they alike in trembling hope repose
The bosom of his soul believes and God
Let the moon climb over the grave into the vaults of the skies
How silent is the world, and how with a wane dimming face
What, may it be that even in Heavenly eternal place
This divine archer, this Queen of the night her sharp arrows tries
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