When she passes, a sovereign beauty which I adore
When she passes, a sovereign beauty which I adore
A world witness how worthy of every wonder praised
The light that has kindled the heavenly ore
Oh my frail spirit by her from baseness raised
And being in vicinity of her huge brightness dazed
Other women I can no longer endure to view
But gazing still on her, I stand amazed
At wondrous sight of such divine hue
And ever when my tongue would speak of her commanding due
It choked and turn to stone with thoughts of astonishment
I wrote her some times her titles true
My pen ravished with fancy's wonderment
Then in my heart both when speak or write
She, the wonder that my comprehension cannot indite
Related quotes
Amoretti III: The Sovereign Beauty
The sovereign beauty which I do admire,
Witness the world how worthy to be praised:
The light whereof hath kindled heavenly fire
In my frail spirit, by her from baseness raised;
That being now with her huge brightness dazed,
Base thing I can no more endure to view;
But looking still on her, I stand amazed
At wondrous sight of so celestial hue.
So when my tongue would speak her praises due,
It stopped is with thought's astonishment:
And when my pen would write her titles true,
It ravish'd is with fancy's wonderment:
Yet in my heart I then both speak and write
The wonder that my wit cannot endite.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Sonnet III
THe souerayne beauty which I doo admyre,
witnesse the world how worthy to be prayzed:
the light wherof hath kindled heauenly iyre,
in my fraile spirit by her from basenesse raysed.
That being now with her huge brightnesse dazed,
base thing I can no more endure to view:
but looking still on her I stand amazed,
at wondrous sight of so celestiall hew.
So when my toung would speak her praises dew,
it stopped is with thoughts astonishment:
and when my pen would write her titles true,
it rauisht is with fancies wonderment:
Yet in my hart I then both speake and write,
the wonder that my wit cannot endite.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Amoretti LXXIV: Most Happy Letters
Most happy letters, fram'd by skilful trade,
With which that happy name was first design'd:
The which three times thrice happy hath me made,
With gifts of body, fortune, and of mind.
The first my being to me gave by kind,
From mother's womb deriv'd by due descent,
The second is my sovereign Queen most kind,
That honour and large richesse to me lent.
The third my love, my life's last ornament,
By whom my spirit out of dust was raised:
To speak her praise and glory excellent,
Of all alive most worthy to be praised.
Ye three Elizabeths for ever live,
That three such graces did unto me give.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Write me a lyric
Write me a poem
Write me a lyric
Write me a song
that my soul might sing
Speak to me of wonder
Speak to me of joy
Speak to me of friendship
That would be a special thing
Take me to the high places
The high places of your soul
teach me of the spirit
The dreams that keep you whole
And then if you turn your back
I will understand
We are all fleeting spirits
in an awesome divine plan
poem by Ludvig Von Himmelstein
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Rime 28
When before those eyes, my life and light,
my beauty and fortune in the world, I stand,
the style, speech, passion, genius I command,
the thoughts, conceits, feelings I incite,
in all I'm overwhelmed, utterly spent,
like a deaf mute, virutally dazed, all reverence, nothing but amazed
in that lovely light, I'm fixed and rent.
Enough, not a word can I intone
for that divine incubus never quits
sapping my strength, leaving my soul prone.
Oh Love, what strange and wonderful fits:
one sole thing, one beauty alone,
can give me life and deprive me of wits
poem by Gaspara Stampa
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Young Poets
You speak for the lakes, the trees and the birds
You say what they'd say if they had the words.
Make PEACE and be proud, choose well every choice
Speak HOPE and speak loud, you are Nature's voice.
Speak with respect now, for jungles and streams,
Speak for all wildlife and dream giant dreams.
Speak with great courage, speak up and speak out,
Write with a whisper or write with a SHOUT!
Stand up young poets for clean air and rivers,
Free verse or lyric; your message delivers...
Truth to the future citizens of earth,
Speak of your freedom your friends and self worth.
Speak for tomorrow and though you're still young,
Speak for the Forest, your pen is her tongue.
The world waits to hear your songs still unsung
Words posses power, you can write the wrongs
Teach us and lead us with Poems and with songs.
Speak now for nature, for trees and for birds,
Defenders of Earth choose carefullly your words!
poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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God of Wonder
Oh God of wonder
God of Grace
Here I stand before you
Humbled and broken
Speak of Your love
Oh Father, Oh Father
Speak of Your Grace
Oh God of earth
God of Heavenly place
My heart opened to receive
My heart abides in You
Speak of Your love
Oh Father, Oh Father
Speak of Your Grace
Oh God of Love
Oh God of endless mercy
Open my eyes to see You
By Spirit blest by You
Speak of Your love
Oh Father, Oh Father
Speak of Your Grace
poem by Lisa Finney
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Psalm 145
The greatness of God.
My God, my King, thy various praise
Shall fill the remnant of my days;
Thy grace employ my humble tongue
Till death and glory raise the song.
The wings of every hour shall bear
Some thankful tribute to thine ear;
And every setting sun shall see
New works of duty done for thee.
Thy truth and justice I'll proclaim;
Thy bounty flows an endless stream;
Thy mercy swift, thine anger slow,
But dreadful to the stubborn foe.
Thy works with sovereign glory shine,
And speak thy majesty divine;
Let Britain round her shores proclaim
The sound and honor of thy name.
Let distant times and nations raise
The long succession of thy praise,
And unborn ages make my song
The joy and labor of their tongue.
But who can speak thy wondrous deeds?
Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds?
Vast and unsearchable thy ways,
Vast and immortal be thy praise!
poem by Isaac Watts
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Amoretti LXXIX: Men Call you Fair
Men call you fair, and you do credit it,
For that your self ye daily such do see:
But the true fair, that is the gentle wit,
And vertuous mind, is much more prais'd of me.
For all the rest, how ever fair it be,
Shall turn to naught and lose that glorious hue:
But only that is permanent and free
From frail corruption, that doth flesh ensue.
That is true beauty: that doth argue you
To be divine, and born of heavenly seed:
Deriv'd from that fair Spirit, from whom all true
And perfect beauty did at first proceed.
He only fair, and what he fair hath made,
All other fair, like flowers untimely fade.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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She Is My Heavenly Proffer
Perhaps once in thine own life, if truly fortuitous,
Ye shall gain privity to a beauty, as I, whose glorious
Resplendence shines-as a beacon, through all my hours-
A beauty so rarified it doth astound and overpowers
The senses at times! Though she doth dwell many a mile
From whence I am, still, I am greeted at all times-by her smile!
Should my life's flame be doused, right here and now,
I shan't have cause to aspire further-as this I avow:
I have glimpsed Heaven-in her eyes, it doth reside-
Not to speak slight of the Empyrean Kingdom, nor deride;
I have seen her truth, and simply must, to it, attest;
She is cause for me to know, I am most and truly blessed!
No matter of love or affection shall serve to suffice-no, not nearly;
Nothing shall ever be proper grace for the one I love most dearly!
My life until now hath been wanton of a love worthy of what I have to offer-
No longer need I search for same, obligation owed to God's greatest proffer!
Our consort was a divine providence, of this, you may be assured;
My soul hath now its compeer; My heart's everlasting guard, secured!
I must see this glory e'er closer still-to this end, I shall do what I must;
All my hopes and dreams-all the faith I have in my heart-to her, I do entrust!
'Lord, as Thou hast given unto me, this magnificent, glorious covenant,
I shall endeavor dutifully to pay it proper honor, as I remain allegiant! '
My amorous wonderment knows not bound, whence she is concerned-
For she doth embody all that for which my life, entire, I have yearned!
As this singularly magnificent night gives way to the dawn of a new day,
There is but one truth I know and shall endeavor evermore, to convey:
She is my Heavenly proffer, given unto me as proof of His divine inspiration-
She-the solitary source of my mind, heart and soul's panoply of elation!
Maurice Harris,24 May 2010
poem by Maurice Harris
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Those stiff lines
What makes eyes to speak?
Thoughts to sneak
Feet to surge ahead
And lines to be read
Those stiff lines on your face send me chill
It exposes your hardness with mild will
The smile lines are hidden but definitely speak
You seem unperturbed but otherwise look weak
You have controlled veil
Yet you have failed
It can not remain in disguise
Even if resolutely you cruise
It is known act and pardonable
It was never disputed and was questionable
You were lovable and remained so
We all have to follow you and go
Truth can never turn untruth
It needs no witness or proof
Stars shine and sun rises
Birth is synonyms with demise
It must endure pain and lust
As both have been there and must
One must clearly distinguish between two
What is bad, good and true
Only foolish people fight
Know nothing from wrong to right
Yet it is jo9ke and fun
We are on constant run
We are one and remain as such
There is nothing to as much
Just preserve the spirit and strength
The tune and song will have same length
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Love Letter (Dearest Love)
Dearest love,
Even though I may not write
You're still my greatest inspiration in-sight
Embodied with features I hold dearly to me
In you, no one will never see what I see
In my eyes you are d best
Come away with me lets experience life's wondrous zest.
Everything about this love is so sacred
Like Adam and Eve we were created
Not to live a sinful life.....
But to have each other in this cold world...
Dearest love you are not the food I need you are the nourishment to soul
It is your partnership that will lead me to the fulfillment of my dreams
You are the only one in my life who reigns supreme.
I never thought I could be romantic
Hmmm but look at us (me) now, we're kindled spirits.
Above you are the stars, below you are the stones.
As time passes, remember...
Like a star should your love be constant,
Like the earth should your love be firm.
*(my) ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WRDS (get it? ! ? ! >>>> I love you)
Forever yours,
Anita
poem by Anita Khelawan
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A Fear Through Words
It is through fear I write this
Through fear I dare not speak these words
Or name the muse of who I pen them to
I hold a gentle and honest love to my heart
Such a love as yet untried and unknown
What good are my words when I cannot speak them
To my muse so beautiful so sweet, so divine
I fear I may lose them so completely
That I stay silent, bide my words so well
And watch with abject despair
My muse, object of my whole desire
Grow more distant with each passing day
And I fear I may lose all together
By speaking these words, these cursed words
I asked myself once, what I search for
Is it what I want or what I need in life
And there I saw my muse, a world of beauty
More than I could imagine or ask for
A gentle heart and loving nature
Those warm soothing eyes I look to
Do not see me as I would wish
I fear if they were to, see my innermost soul
My passion and my love for them
They would turn away and be lost completely
Which is why I write with fear
These words I dare not speak
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Speak to Me
Speak to me
speak soft my love.
Whisper tenderly
from your heart.
If I am far from your side.
Let your words
travel on the winds.
Guide me safely back to you.
When I am hurting my love.
Speak to me.
Take away my pain
by the sound of your voice.
Chase away dark clouds
with the brightness of song.
Open the door to my heart
pour in your love.
Speak to me with your heart
and I will answer.
By telling all the world
of our love.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Licia Sonnets 37
I speak, fair Licia, what my torments be,
But then my speech too partial do I find;
For hardly words can with those thoughts agree,
Those thoughts that swarm in such a troubled mind.
Then do I vow my tongue shall never speak
Nor tell my grief that in my heart doth lie;
But cannon-like, I then surcharged do break,
And so my silence worse than speech I try.
Thus speech or none, they both do breed my care;
I live dismayed, and kill my heart with grief;
In all respects my case alike doth fare
To him that wants, and dare not ask relief.
Then you, fair Licia, sovereign of my heart,
Read to yourself my anguish and my smart.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: XIII
A second warning, nor unheeded. Yet
The thought appealed to me as no strange thing,
Pure though I was, that love impure had set
Its seal on that fair woman in her Spring.
Her broken beauty did not mar her grace
In form or spirit. Nay, it rather moved.
It seemed a natural thing for that gay face
It should have known and suffered and been loved.
It kindled in me, too, to view it thus,
A mood of daring which was more than mine,
And made my shamefaced heart leap valorous,
And fired its courage to a zeal divine.
All this, in one short instant, as I gazed
Into her eyes, admiring, yet amazed.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Silentium
Speak not, lie hidden, and conceal
the way you dream, the things you feel.
Deep in your spirit let them rise
akin to stars in crystal skies
that set before the night is blurred:
delight in them and speak no word.
How can a heart expression find?
How should another know your mind?
Will he discern what quickens you?
A thought once uttered is untrue.
Dimmed is the fountainhead when stirred:
drink at the source and speak no word.
Live in your inner self alone
within your soul a world has grown,
the magic of veiled thoughts that might
be blinded by the outer light,
drowned in the noise of day, unheard...
take in their song and speak no word.
poem by Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
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Flowers And Stars
“Beloved! thou’rt gazing with thoughtful look
On those flowers of brilliant hue,
Blushing in spring tide freshness and bloom,
Glittering with diamond dew:
What dost thou read in each chalice fair,
And what does each blossom say?
Do they not tell thee, my peerless one,
Thou’rt lovelier far than they?”
“Not so—not so, but they whisper low
That quickly will fade their bloom;
Soon will they withered lie on the sod,
Ravished of all perfume;
They tell that youth and beauty below
Are doomed, alas! to decay,
And I, like them, in life’s flower and prime
May pass from this earth away.”
“Too sad thy thoughts! Look up at yon stars,
That gleam in the sapphire skies;
Not clearer their radiance, best beloved,
Than the light of thine own dark eyes!
With no thoughts of death or sad decay,
Can they thy young spirit fill;
Through ages they’ve shone with changeless light,
And yet they are shining still!”
“Ah! they bring before my spirit’s gaze
Dreams of that home so blessed,
Where those who have served the Master well
At length from their labors rest;
And do not chide if, despite all ties,
Of close-clinging earthly love,
There are times when I turn a wistful glance
To that distant home above.”
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Why are you Silent, Oh Cold Beauty?
Why are you silent, Oh cold beauty?
Your attire is simplicity...
Your beauty expressive like eyes of a dancer with a divine spirit...
Call I your muteness your wisdom's speech?
Or fear of a frail soul?
Should I make you divine or meek?
Innocent or ingenious?
Glory of a shrine or a dust of its pavement?
What name I give to your silence?
For u shall be beautiful still!
For a poet night is as beautiful as day…
Wisdom or fear...
Divine or meek
Innocence or ingenuity
Shrines dust or shrines glory...
All rise from heart of beauty taking different courser to meet again in the spirit of love...! !
To sail with d current of devotion with no oppression of tides...! !
With no fear of being exiled to unknown dark showers...
With buried skulls and serpents...
Born in dark...
Rose from dark…
Slept in radiance wide awake...
Speak oh beauty...
For beauty is boundless...
For it sleeps in death's arms to awake in eternities embrace...
poem by Lama Abbas
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