The Daisies
IN THE scented bud of the morning—O,
When the windy grass went rippling far,
I saw my dear one walking slow,
In the field where the daisies are.
We did not laugh and we did not speak
As we wandered happily to and fro;
I kissed my dear on either cheek,
In the bud of the morning—O.
A lark sang up from the breezy land,
A lark sang down from a cloud afar,
And she and I went hand in hand
In the field where the daisies are.
poem by James Stephens
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Related quotes
The Waking (1948)
I strolled across
An open field;
The sun was out;
Heat was happy.
This way!This way!
The wren's throat shimmered,
Either to other,
The blossoms sang.
The stones sang,
The little ones did,
And flowers jumped
Like small goats.
A ragged fringe
Of daisies waved;
I wasn't alone
In a grove of apples.
Far in the wood
A nestling sighed;
The dew loosened
Its morning smells.
I came where the river
Ran over stones:
My ears knew
An early joy.
And all the waters
Of all the streams
Sang in my veins
That summer day.
poem by Theodore Roethke
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Field Of Yellow Daisies
We met in a field of yellow daisies
Wild and young and free
And she picked a bouquet for me
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I...she'd go away..yeah
But they didn't say why
Have you ever been in a field of yellow daisies
Where the air is warm, pure and sweet
Just as if the world is at your feet
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I
She'd go away.....yeah
But they didn't say why
I may fail like petals from a daisy
But for her love I'll always yearn
Each year when yellow daisies return
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I
She'd go away.....yeahhhh
But they didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why.........
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daisy Time
See, the grass is full of stars,
Fallen in their brightness;
Hearts they have of shining gold,
Rays of shining whiteness.
Buttercups have honeyed hearts,
Bees they love the clover,
But I love the daisies' dance
All the meadow over.
Blow, O blow, you happy winds,
Singing summer's praises,
Up the field and down the field
A-dancing with the daisies.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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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
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The Fury of Flowers and Worms
Let the flowers make a journey
on Monday so that I can see
ten daisies in a blue vase
with perhaps one red ant
crawling to the gold center.
A bit of the field on my table,
close to the worms
who struggle blinding,
moving deep into their slime,
moving deep into God's abdomen,
moving like oil through water,
sliding through the good brown.
The daisies grow wild
like popcorn.
They are God's promise to the field.
How happy I am, daisies, to love you.
How happy you are to be loved
and found magical, like a secret
from the sluggish field.
If all the world picked daisies
wars would end, the common cold would stop,
unemployment would end, the monetary market
would hold steady and no money would float.
Listen world.
if you'd just take the time to pick
the white flowers, the penny heart,
all would be well.
They are so unexpected.
They are as good as salt.
If someone had brought them
to van Gogh's room daily
his ear would have stayed on.
I would like to think that no one would die anymore
if we all believed in daisies
but the worms know better, don't they?
They slide into the ear of a corpse
and listen to his great sigh.
poem by Anne Sexton
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Daisies All Over My Body
let daisies rain on
me and let all the daisies
cover my face my body
let daisies crown my head
my hair, my nose, let there
be daisies everywhere
inside, outside me
i am in love.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Through the field I See
A field of green grass awaits me.
I have been on this grass before and it brought suffering and
anguish.
I wait for the pure colors of pink and red to cover all of the
envious grass.
In this field of colors I have not experienced.
Many a people, hand in hand, take this path of red and pink.
Through many a people take the field of grass choosing the
poison of which they will drink.
poem by Stephen Howard
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Well Sing In The Sunshine
Well sing in the sunshine
Well laugh every day
Well sing in the sunshine
And Ill be on my way
I will never love you
The cost of loves too dear
But though Ill never love you
Ill live with you one year
And we will sing in the sunshine
Well laugh every day
Well sing in the sunshine
And Ill be on my way
Ill sing to you each morning
Ill kiss you every night
But darlin, dont cling to me
Ill soon be out of sight
But we can sing in the sunshine
Well laugh every day
Well sing in the sunshine
And Ill be on my way
My daddy he once told me
Hey, dont you love you any man
Just take what they can give you
And give but what you can
And you can sing in the sunshine
Well laugh every day
Well sing in the sunshine
And Ill be on my way
And when our year has ended
And I have gone away
Ill often speak about you
And this is what Ill say
You know we sang in the sunshine
We laughed every day
We sang in the sunshine
Then I went on my way
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dear Dream
Dear Dream
Dear dream it always start like you
A simple dream to start my day, dear dream
This morning I dream of greatness, dear dream
I remember waking up in the world of glory, dear dream
It was a wishful world full of rich color even though it always start out in black and white
Dear dream, I have experience the most wonderful thing this morning
Dear dream, I have witness my eyes change color this morning
Dear dream, I have seem a colorful road with turn
A road that lead to a shinning castle, a castle that show its color through a shooting fire
Dear dream, the castle stood as the only beautiful picture in front of me
My eyes are shatter with firework shooting in and out of the picture
Dear dream I was in peace
My mind is in a field of glory, wondering in the light of greatness
Dear dream, good morning and yah I am awake
poem by Robert Otim
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Milton Read Again (in Surrey)
Three golden months while summer on us stole
I have read your joyful tale another time,
Breathing more freely in that larger clime
And learning wiselier to deserve the whole.
Your Spirit, Master, has been close at hand
And guided me, still pointing treasures rare,
Thick-sown where I before saw nothing fair
And finding waters in the barren land,
Barren once thought because my eyes were dim.
Like one I am grown to whom the common field
And often-wandered copse one morning yield
New pleasures suddenly; for over him
Falls the weird spirit of unexplained delight,
New mystery in every shady place,
In every whispering tree a nameless grace,
New rapture on the windy seaward height.
So may she come to me, teaching me well
To savour all these sweets that lie to hand
In wood and lane about this pleasant land
Though it be not the land where I would dwell.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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Gipsy Love
The gipsy tents are on the down,
The gipsy girls are here;
And it's O to be off and away from the town
With a gipsy for my dear!
We'd make our bed in the bracken
With the lark for a chambermaid;
The lark would sing us awake in the morning,
Singing above our head.
We'd drink the sunlight all day long
With never a house to bind us;
And we'd only flout in a merry song
The world we left behind us.
We would be free as birds are free
The livelong day, the livelong day;
And we would lie in the sunny bracken
With none to say us nay.
The gipsy tents are on the down,
The gipsy girls are here;
And it's O to be off and away from the town
With a gipsy for my dear!
poem by Arthur Symons
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Forgiven
I dreamed so dear a dream of you last night!
I thought you came. I was so glad, so gay,
I whispered, 'Those were foolish words to say;
I meant them not. I cannot bear the sight
Of our dear face. I cannot meet the light
Of your dear eyes upon me. Sit, I pray-
Sit here beside me; turn your look away,
And lay your cheek on mine,' Till morning bright
We sat so, and we did not speak. I knew
All was forgiven, so nestled there
With your arms round. Swift the sweet hours flew.
At last I waked, and sought you everywhere.
How long, dear, think you, that my glad cheek will
Burn-as it burns with our cheek's pressure still?
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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Early Morning Breeze
I open up my door to greet the early morning sun
Closing it behind me and away I do run
To the meadow where the meadow lark is singing in the tree
In the meadow I go walking in the early morning breeze
I cup my hands to catch a multi-colored butterfly
Perched upon the petals of flowers growing wild
Freeing it I watch it as it flies away from me
To visit with the flowers in the early morning breeze
Chorus:
Rainbow colored flowers kissed with early morning sun
The aster and the dahlia and wild geraniums
Drops of morning due still linger on the iris leaves
In the meadow where Im walking in the early morning breeze
Misty-eyed I look about the meadow where I stray
For its there I find the courage to greet the coming day
For there among the flowers I kneel gently to my knees
To have a word with God in the early mornig breeze
2nd chorus:
A rainbow colored meadow kissed with early morning sun
The aster and the dahlia and wild geraniums
Drops of morning due still linger on the iris leaves
In the meadow where Im walking in the early morning breez
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Mary In Summer
LAY your head here, Mary,
Lay your head here,
While the blown grass, Mary,
With timid voice and wary,
Sings in your ear:—
The grass which round us, Mary,
Shuts like a nest;
By your dear limbs, dear Mary,
Lighter than limbs of Faery,
Daintily press'd.
Back with it all though, Mary,
Back and aside;
The wind comes this way, Mary,
And here the trees are airy
And the skies are wide.
What do your eyes fear, Mary,
So grave and soft?
I love to see them, Mary,
In whimsical vagary
Lifted aloft.
Mary, Mary, Mary,
Laugh in my face:
You know now, my own Mary,
No eyes can laugh so rarely
Or grant such grace.
Your cheek is pale now, Mary,
And red, by turns.
Why should the hand be chary
Of that to give which, Mary,
The heart so yearns?
Give me your hand, ah Mary,
Give me your hand:
In city or in prairie
There is none kinder, Mary,
From land to land.
Your lips to my lips, Mary,
Your lips to mine:
High up in Hebe's dairy
No milk so sweet, my Mary,
On earth no wine.
Lay your head here, Mary,
Lay your head here;
While my heart now, Mary,
The pleasant tune to vary,
Beats in your ear.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Among The Millet
The dew is gleaming in the grass,
The morning hours are seven,
And I am fain to watch you pass,
Ye soft white clouds of heaven.
Ye stray and gather, part and fold;
The wind alone can tame you;
I think of what in time of old
The poets loved to name you.
They called you sheep, the sky your sward,
A field without a reaper;
They called the shining sun your lord,
The shepherd wind your keeper.
Your sweetest poets I will deem
The men of old for moulding
In simple beauty such a dream,
And I could lie beholding,
Where daisies in the meadow toss,
The wind from morn till even,
Forever shepherd you across
The shining field of heaven.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Once a sea-nymph loved a boy
ONCE a sea-nymph loved a boy:
He and she they loved so well.
'Oh the foamy billow's joy!
Oh the rippling in the sun!
Oh the round waves, one by one, Swaying, swaying, swaying, To and fro.
Oh my pearl and coral cell, And the long weeds playing,
While the surges come and go, Come and go!'
Boy and nymph were hand in hand:
He and she they had much love.
'Oh the green and ripening land!
Oh the lime-scent in the trees!
Oh the langour of the breeze,
Wooing, wooing, wooing, Light and low!
Oh the twilight in my grove, And the cushats cooing;
While the brook steals soft and slow, Soft and slow.'
Love, that heard them, laughed aloud, Took them to the side of him.
Was it land or leafy cloud?
Was it billowy cloud or sea? 'Twas the home that eyes, kissed dim,
Look on as they'd have it be.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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The Night Before The Mowing
ALL shimmering in the morning shine
And diamonded with dew,
And quivering in the scented wind
That thrills its green heart through,--
The little field, the smiling field,
With all its flowers a-blowing,
How happy looks the golden field
The day before the mowing!
All still 'neath the departing light,
Twilight, though void of stars,
Save where, low westering, Venus hides
From the red eye of Mars;
How quiet lies the silent field
With all its beauties glowing;
Just stirring,--like a child asleep,--
The night before the mowing.
Sharp steel, inevitable hand,
Cut keen, cut kind! Our field
We know full well must be laid low
Before its wealth it yield:
Labor and mirth and plenty blest
Its blameless death bestowing:
And yet we weep, and yet we weep,
The night before the mowing.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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From A 9-year Old Child To His Mama...
I was the one who
uprooted your
blooming red African daisies
that morning when
you walked to attend the
funeral of
Uncle Aldong
when you arrived that afternoon
from the silent city
all the African daisies
have already wilted
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Ballad
A fool wrote three signs in the sand,
A pale maiden stood there before him.
Loudly the sea sang, o it sang.
She held a cup in the hand,
Which gleamed up to the edge,
Like blood so red and heavy .
No word was spoken - the sun faded away,
Then the fool took the cup
Out of her hand and drank it empty.
Then its light extinguished in her hand,
The wind blew away the three signs in the sand -
Loudly the sea sang, o it sang.
poem by Georg Trakl
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Daisies bloom
Above the effloresce and greens,
baptize the reasons of a brave,
he opens ravishing air wings,
as to engage a cold that stings,
Angelic and betrothal rings,
conceived upon his earthy grave,
Above the effloresce and greens,
baptize the reasons of a brave.
Above the land the daisies bloom,
and poppies dance in morning light,
Air Nymphs will meet a stalwart groom,
rain flows and purls inside the flume,
that coltish roils towards sea fume,
the tears of souls begone in fight,
Above the land the daisies bloom,
and poppies dance in morning light.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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