Alone
The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.
The sly reeds whisper to the night
A name-- her name-
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.
poem by James Joyce
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Related quotes
Under The Laburnum Tree
(A simple tale)
Under the Laburnum tree
She saw his gentle face
Under the Laburnum tree
She knew their first embrace
Under the Laburnum tree
She gave to him her love
Under the Laburnum tree
Beneath the stars above
Under the Laburnum tree
He left her there to cry
Under the Laburnum tree
That`s where she chose to die
(Under the Laburnum tree
Were scattered all its seeds
Under the Laburnum tree
Amongst the growing weeds)
Under the Laburnum tree
The moon was shining bright
Under the Laburnum tree
Her silv`ry soul took flight
Under the Laburnum tree
At last she was set free
Under the Laburnum tree
She found eternity
poem by Valerie Dohren
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Under My Skin
(john farrar)
Every night when youre as mean
As a ladder with a broken wrung
When I know youre sorry wont make it
From your heart to your tongue
There are nights when you keep pushing me
And I wont go on
cause when I get mad enough darlin
I will be standing my ground
But on a night like this I know I cant win
I know my soul will burn and blister
When you slide your silky whisper under my skin, oh, under my skin
When you slide your silky whisper under my skin
There are nights when every kiss
Is an order than I can obey
And I can taste the life comin
From a mile away
There are nights when you keep holdin me
But your arms are too tight
And I dont need what I want
cause what I want just dont feel right
But on a night like this I know I cant win
I know my soul will burn and blister
When you slide your silky whisper under my skin, oh, under my skin
When you slide your silky whisper under my skin
Everywhere that I go I hear your name
Spoken in whispers, spoken in shame
In shame
But on a night like this I know I cant win
I know my soul will burn and blister
When you slide your silky whisper under my skin, yeah, under my skin
Come and slide your whisper under my skin
Come and slide your whisper under my skin
Under my skin, ooh under my skin
Come and slide your whisper (under my skin)
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Raison D'Etre
O WEARY night, O weary day,
When heart's delight is far away!
What is the day? A frame of blue
The vacant-glaring sun grins through.
What is the night? A sable veil
Through which the moon peers tired and pale.
O weary day! O weary night!
How far away is heart's delight!
Love hung the sun in his high place
To give me light to see her face,
And love spread out the veil of night
To hide us two from all men's sight.
O kindly night, O pleasant day,
Your use is gone--why should ye stay?
My heart's delight is far away,
O weary night, O weary day.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Sestina
I saw my soul at rest upon a day
As a bird sleeping in the nest of night,
Among soft leaves that give the starlight way
To touch its wings but not its eyes with light;
So that it knew as one in visions may,
And knew not as men waking, of delight.
This was the measure of my soul's delight;
It had no power of joy to fly by day,
Nor part in the large lordship of the light;
But in a secret moon-beholden way
Had all its will of dreams and pleasant night,
And all the love and life that sleepers may.
But such life's triumph as men waking may
It might not have to feed its faint delight
Between the stars by night and sun by day,
Shut up with green leaves and a little light;
Because its way was as a lost star's way,
A world's not wholly known of day or night.
All loves and dreams and sounds and gleams of night
Made it all music that such minstrels may,
And all they had they gave it of delight;
But in the full face of the fire of day
What place shall be for any starry light,
What part of heaven in all the wide sun's way?
Yet the soul woke not, sleeping by the way,
Watched as a nursling of the large-eyed night,
And sought no strength nor knowledge of the day,
Nor closer touch conclusive of delight,
Nor mightier joy nor truer than dreamers may,
Nor more of song than they, nor more of light.
For who sleeps once and sees the secret light
Whereby sleep shows the soul a fairer way
Between the rise and rest of day and night,
Shall care no more to fare as all men may,
But be his place of pain or of delight,
There shall he dwell, beholding night as day.
Song, have thy day and take thy fill of light
Before the night be fallen across thy way;
Sing while he may, man hath no long delight.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Black Swan
When the swans turned my sister into a swan
I would go to the lake, at night, from milking:
The sun would look out through the reeds like a swan,
A swan's red beak; and the beak would open
And inside there was darkness, the stars and the moon.
Out on the lake, a girl would laugh.
"Sister, here is your porridge, sister,"
I would call; and the reeds would whisper,
"Go to sleep, go to sleep, little swan."
My legs were all hard and webbed, and the silky
Hairs of my wings sank away like stars
In the ripples that ran in and out of the reeds:
I heard through the lap and hiss of water
Someone's "Sister . . . sister," far away on the shore,
And then as I opened my beak to answer
I heard my harsh laugh go out to the shore
And saw - saw at last, swimming up from the green
Low mounds of the lake, the white stone swans:
The white, named swans . . . "It is all a dream,"
I whispered, and reached from the down of the pallet
To the lap and hiss of the floor.
And "Sleep, little sister," the swan all sang
From the moon and stars and frogs of the floor.
But the swan my sister called, "Sleep at last, little sister,"
And stroked all night, with a black wing, my wings.
poem by Randall Jarrell
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On The First Of Seven's Night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
for the world, ag'n christmas sight
on the first of seven's night
when the light of heaven is light
it's the world of two thousand seven bright
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
see, she is smiling in alone
ah! in love she is gone
'n' now she has got the tone
to say! to wish a new morn..ing
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
oh! it's the hit of 12'o clock
but who are they in morning flock
look it's you 'n' that is me
in between it's bond of thee
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
hey! who is playing these notes so cute
it must be octaves from lord krishnas flute
no! on the first of seven with the rythm inherent
a boy to a girl with the happys of heaven
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
and you! what are you doing over here
go to the fields and harvest your share
my blackberrys ripen with the dawn of the sun
hares and birds may already be having there fun
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
sown for you blackberry's delight
on the first of seven's night
poem by Amit Ranjan
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Sleep
Love-cradling Night, lit by the lucent moon,
Most pitiful and mother-hearted Night!
Blest armistice in life's tumultuous fight,
Resolving discords to a spheral tune!
When tired with heat and strenuous toil of noon,
With ceaseless conflict betwixt might and right,
With ebb and flow of sorrow and delight,
Our panting hearts beneath their burdens swoon:
To thee, O star-eyes comforter, we creep,
Earth's ill-used step-children to thee make moan,
As hiding in thy dark skirts' ample sweep;
--Poor debtors whose brief life is not their own;
For dunned by Death, to whom we owe its loan,
Give us, O Night, the interest paid in sleep.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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By the Pool of the Third Rosses
I heard the sighing of the reed
In the grey pool in the green land,
The sea-wind in the long reeds sighing
Between the green hill and the sand.
I heard the sighing of the reeds
Day after day, night after night;
I heard the whirring wild ducks flying,
I saw the sea-gull's wheeling flight.
I heard the sighing of the reeds
Night after night, day after day,
And I forgot old age, and dying,
And youth that loves, and love's decay.
I heard the sighing of the reeds
At noontide and at evening,
And some old dream I had forgotten
I seemed to be remembering.
I hear the sighing of the reeds:
Is it in vain, is it in vain
That some old peace I had forgotten
Is crying to come back again?
poem by Arthur Symons
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Sonnet- Hope Exists Always
Another day yet breaks when comes Sun-rise,
To show that Hope is not lost forever;
The living are now more foolish or wise;
Some change for the better; some can never.
Unbearable's the scorching Sun at noon,
The peak of every man's activity;
The tired mind and body tend to swoon,
As Sun-set covers village and city.
And soon the twilight gives in to night-fall;
The Moon and Stars come one by one in view;
And sleep engulfs many men, if not all;
It is still day at night for select few!
If not for night, where would be next day's dawn?
If not for day, could night be again born?
poem by John Celes
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While You Were Sleeping
Last Night while you were sleeping,
Did you know that I was wide awake,
On my side, at your side
Waiting for morning to break.
I watched as you slept,
As the dreams enter in your soul
Then through my eyes, I realized
That truly, I love you so.
Last night, while you were sleeping.
Last Night while you were asleep
Did you know too, that I was there
On your bed, also laid my head
Along with my soul and prayer.
Lying quietly at your side
As I have done the nights before
To be with you, my love so true
Could any man ask for any more.
Last Night while you were asleep.
Last night while you slept,
As waiting for morning to come,
While at your side, I laid that night
While dreading the coming of the sun.
As always with you I was there
Even when morning began to arise
But then again it came, as so did the pain
As I said goodbye to another night.
Last night while you slept.
Last night while you did sleep
You never knew that you weren't alone,
As when you awoke not one word did I spoke
As on the couch I slept from which I never roamed.
Upon my side there I solemnly laid
Being so still, and quite as a mouse
Not to make a sound that might give my secret away,
I wandered; did you too feel lonely in this house.
Last night while you had slept.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Evening
From upland slopes I see the cows file by,
Lowing, great-chested, down the homeward trail,
By dusking fields and meadows shining pale
With moon-tipped dandelions. Flickering high,
A peevish night-hawk in the western sky
Beats up into the lucent solitudes,
Or drops with griding wing. The stilly woods
Grow dark and deep, and gloom mysteriously.
Cool night winds creep, and whisper in mine ear.
The homely cricket gossips at my feet.
From far-off pools and wastes of reeds I hear,
Clear and soft-piped, the chanting frogs break sweet
In full Pandean chorus. One by one
Shine out the stars, and the great night comes on.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Sleeping With The Dog
Her love is like a candle: you light it up at night.
Her heart is like a pack of cards: one chance to guess it right.
Sometimes I do.
Shes got a tongue like a viper, but she can whisper like a dove.
Soft touch like brushed velvet: till she hits you from above.
And sometimes she does.
She leaves me breathing: down like a fallen log.
Just when I feel like dancing
I wake up sleeping with the dog.
And it goes: (woof) sleeping with the dog.
I have to guess at the mysteries of her unfathomable soul.
Guess when the time seems right
To make a broken spirit whole
And that time is due. cmon.
She leaves me breathing: down like a fallen log
And just when I feel like dancing
I wake up sleeping with the dog.
And it goes: (woof) sleeping with the dog.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whisper In The Night
Whisper in the night
Over silent evening air
Angels gown shines white
All at once youre glad shes there
Daughter of your dream shine a guiding light for me
For Ill be here till light
Whisper in the night
Till she has forgiven me
Night turns into gold
So the tide may turn today
Though God gave the world
Its not mine to throw away
Daughter of your dream shine a guiding light for me
For Ill be here till light
Whisper in the night
Till she has forgiven me
La da da -- da
Whisper in the night
Till she has forgiven me
Help to face what the day may bring
Angels sing
You were sent to make the night be kind
What will I find
Snowflake bird she came
Taking grey clouds from your door
Face the midnight sun
You have something to live for
Daughter of your dream shine a guiding light for me
For Ill be here till light
Whisper in the night
Till she has forgiven me
La da da -- da
Whisper in the night
Till she has forgiven me
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Was My Uncle Soul Sifting
it was my uncle soul
sifting in a leaned back
all the way chair down
by the old family lake
taking trout we spent
all day chasing through
reeds and lilies, dodging
loons and other birds
trying to outmaneuver
them in their own home
it was my uncle soul
sifting, lifting trout
entrails, rinsing off
blood and fish and dirt
in the cold lake water
telling me it used to
be a game of his, how
many fish he could trick
before the sun set.
it was my uncle soul
sifting, telling me his
favorite night was years
ago and how he had
only caught one lone
rainbow and was
sitting there, gutting
the heart out listening
to the radio the night
Roy Eldridge died.
it was my uncle soul
sifting, saying he forgot
how many fish he caught
just sat there listening
to old dead Roy play
while the fish cooked
over his burnt coal fire
it was the only way he
knew how to say
goodbye he said, and
tonight it’s me out
there soul sifting, lifting
bits of crumbled dirt and
dust, feeling a part of me
is out there still, the
big blue welling up
inside you, the hole
gone and filled up
with sky.
poem by Ben Paynter
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The Point Of View: II
I
In the wood of lost causes, the valley of tears,
Old hopes, like dead leaves, choke the difficult way;
Dark pinions fold dank round the soul, and it hears:
'It is night, it is night, it has never been day;
Thou hast dreamed of the day, of the rose of delight;
It was always dead leaves and the heart of the night.
Drink deep then, and rest, O thou foolish wayfarer,
For night, like a chalice, holds sleep in her hands.'
II
Then you drain the dark cup, and, half-drugged as you lie
In the arms of despair that is masked as delight,
You thrill to the rush of white wings, and you hear:
'It is day, it is day, it has never been night!
Thou hast dreamed of the night and the wood of lost leaves;
It was always noon, June, and red roses in sheaves,
Unlock the blind lids, and behold the light-bearer
Who holds, like a monstrance, the sun in his hands.'
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Lake
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the Love were thine.
Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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Sailors Lament
Woke up early feelin light, (shame, its a shame.)
Somebody got to me last night, (shame, its a shame.)
Sat down for a friendly duel, (shame, its a shame.)
With one-eyed jacks n jokers, too, (shame, its a shame.)
Chorus:
Ooh, sailor man, (shame, its a shame.)
Ooh, sailor man. (shame, its a shame.)
Poormouth henry turned on me, (shame, its a shame.)
Said, boy, Im gonna pick you clean. (shame, its a shame.)
Chorus
Oh!
Henry said, dont you mess that pile, (shame, its a shame.)
Had three aces n he had five. (shame, its a shame.)
Chorus
Shame, its a shame.
(repeat 5x)
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The wind from the West
Blow high, blow low,
O wind from the West;
You come from the country
I love the best.
O say have the lilies
Yet lifted their heads
Above the lake-water
That ripples and spreads?
Do the little sedges
Still shake with delight,
And whisper together
All through the night?
Have the mountains the purple
I used to love,
And peace about them,
Around and above?
poem by Edward Young
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I call your name in the Night
I call your name in the night
Hoping, mercy will be granted on this soul
And you will come to me.
I call your name in the night
All I hear is the whisper of the wind.
And you still don’t come to me.
I call your name in the night
All I see is the moonlight
And you still don’t come to me.
I call your name in the night
All I taste are the almonds from Aphrodite’s presence
And you still don’t come to me.
I call your name in the night
All I smell are the fresh roses
And you still don’t come to me.
I call your name in the night
All I feel is the emptiness your absence has banished me to
And you still don’t come to me.
I call your name in the night
Until my senses became numb
And faded away
You still don’t come to me!
poem by Alejandra Olivas
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Day And Night
NIGHT, ambushed in the darkling wood,
Waited to seize the sleeping field,
His sentinels the pine trees stood
Till the sun fell beneath his shield.
Then when the day at last was dead,
Night, in his might, marched conquering
Across the land his banner spread
And reigned as victor and as King.
And you and I--all days apart
Rejoiced to see Night's victory,
Because he has a kindlier heart
Than Day wears with his sovereignty:
Day keeps us prisoned close, but Night
Lifts off Day's chains, and all night through
You dream of me, my life's delight,
And all night through I dream of you.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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