Almon Keefer
Ah, Almon Keefer! what a boy you were,
With your back-tilted hat and careless hair,
And open, honest, fresh, fair face and eyes
With their all-varying looks of pleased surprise
And joyous interest in flower and tree,
And poising humming-bird, and maundering bee.
The fields and woods he knew; the tireless tramp
With gun and dog; and the night-fisher's camp--
No other boy, save Bee Lineback, had won
Such brilliant mastery of rod and gun.
Even in his earliest childhood had he shown
These traits that marked him as his father's own.
Dogs all paid Almon honor and bow-wowed
Allegiance, let him come in any crowd
Of rabbit-hunting town-boys, even though
His own dog 'Sleuth' rebuked their acting so
With jealous snarls and growlings.
But the best
Of Almon's virtues--leading all the rest--
Was his great love of books, and skill as well
In reading them aloud, and by the spell
Thereof enthralling his mute listeners, as
They grouped about him in the orchard grass,
Hinging their bare shins in the mottled shine
And shade, as they lay prone, or stretched supine
Beneath their favorite tree, with dreamy eyes
And Argo-fandes voyaging the skies.
'Tales of the Ocean' was the name of one
Old dog's-eared book that was surpassed by none
Of all the glorious list.--Its back was gone,
But its vitality went bravely on
In such delicious tales of land and sea
As may not ever perish utterly.
Of still more dubious caste, 'Jack Sheppard' drew
Full admiration; and 'Dick Turpin,' too.
And, painful as the fact is to convey,
In certain lurid tales of their own day,
These boys found thieving heroes and outlaws
They hailed with equal fervor of applause:
'The League of the Miami'--why, the name
Alone was fascinating--is the same,
In memory, this venerable hour
Of moral wisdom shorn of all its power,
As it unblushingly reverts to when
The old barn was 'the Cave,' and hears again
The signal blown, outside the buggy-shed--
The drowsy guard within uplifts his head,
And ''_Who goes there?_'' is called, in bated breath--
The challenge answered in a hush of death,--
'Sh!--'_Barney Gray!_'' And then ''_What do you seek?_''
''_Stables of The League!_'' the voice comes spent and weak,
For, ha! the _Law_ is on the 'Chieftain's' trail--
Tracked to his very lair!--Well, what avail?
The 'secret entrance' opens--closes.--So
The 'Robber-Captain' thus outwits his foe;
And, safe once more within his 'cavern-halls,'
He shakes his clenched fist at the warped plank-walls
And mutters his defiance through the cracks
At the balked Enemy's retreating backs
As the loud horde flees pell-mell down the lane,
And--_Almon Keefer_ is himself again!
Excepting few, they were not books indeed
Of deep import that Almon chose to read;--
Less fact than fiction.--Much he favored those--
If not in poetry, in hectic prose--
That made our native Indian a wild,
Feathered and fine-preened hero that a child
Could recommend as just about the thing
To make a god of, or at least a king.
Aside from Almon's own books--two or three--
His store of lore The Township Library
Supplied him weekly: All the books with 'or's--
Sub-titled--lured him--after 'Indian Wars,'
And 'Life of Daniel Boone,'--not to include
Some few books spiced with humor,--'Robin Hood'
And rare 'Don Quixote.'--And one time he took
'Dadd's Cattle Doctor.'... How he hugged the book
And hurried homeward, with internal glee
And humorous spasms of expectancy!--
All this confession--as he promptly made
It, the day later, writhing in the shade
Of the old apple-tree with Johnty and
Bud, Noey Bixler, and The Hired Hand--
Was quite as funny as the book was not....
O Wonderland of wayward Childhood! what
An easy, breezy realm of summer calm
And dreamy gleam and gloom and bloom and balm
Thou art!--The Lotus-Land the poet sung,
It is the Child-World while the heart beats young....
While the heart beats young!--O the splendor of the Spring,
With all her dewy jewels on, is not so fair a thing!
The fairest, rarest morning of the blossom-time of May
Is not so sweet a season as the season of to-day
While Youth's diviner climate folds and holds us, close caressed,
As we feel our mothers with us by the touch of face and breast;--
Our bare feet in the meadows, and our fancies up among
The airy clouds of morning--while the heart beats young.
While the heart beats young and our pulses leap and dance.
With every day a holiday and life a glad romance,--
We hear the birds with wonder, and with wonder watch their flight--
Standing still the more enchanted, both of hearing and of sight,
When they have vanished wholly,--for, in fancy, wing-to-wing
We fly to Heaven with them; and, returning, still we sing
The praises of this lower Heaven with tireless voice and tongue,
Even as the Master sanctions--while the heart beats young.
While the heart beats young!--While the heart beats young!
O green and gold old Earth of ours, with azure overhung
And looped with rainbows!--grant us yet this grassy lap of thine--
We would be still thy children, through the shower and the shine!
So pray we, lisping, whispering, in childish love and trust
With our beseeching hands and faces lifted from the dust
By fervor of the poem, all unwritten and unsung,
Thou givest us in answer, while the heart beats young.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Related quotes
This heart beats
This heart beats,
only cause of you
This heart beats,
just to know its true
This heart beats,
like a love i cant control
This heart beats,
to let everybody know
This heart beats,
when i see your smile
This heart beats,
just before i dial
This heart beats,
i hope you feel the same
This heart beats,
cause my heart is where i write your name
poem by Anonymous One
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Heart Beats
Mind thinks, Heart feels and the Heart Beats,
Heart Beats, When it finds its soulmate.
Souls meet eachother, when we meet eachother
We meet, we think, we feel and the Heart Beats.
My heart beats,
And your heart beats are one
It is one, because our heart beats are one
It beats for eachother into our hearts,
Through our hearts and for our hearts,
Which beats for eachother.
My heart beats, when we meet,
It draws us near, to make us
Apart for ever, and leaves us isolated
Forever, and to meet never or ever.
poem by Rajesh Kumar Vaishnaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Love This Heart
This love, this heart, these arms to hold
So tight to you, I wont let go
Can this be real, or just some dream that feels so true
I wish you love, I wish you more
You are all that I live for
Ill never hurt you believe me
My heart beats just for you
It only beats for you
Ill keep the fire alight for you
Cant think of nothing else, what can I do
This lonely heart of mine, it only beats for you
It only beats for you
You bring me peace, you make me smile
You give me strength and all the while
You ask for nothing, only love
And my heart beats just for you
It only beats for you
Id say all these things to you
If you were here, but thats not gonna be
Cos you re not here at all
Theres only me
But I wont stop trying
I wont give up, Ill wait for you
til you come back, its all I can do
Ill be right here, Im going nowhere without you
Give me the chance, just make the call
Just say the words, Im waiting for
Just let this heart of mine show you
It only beats for you
Yes it only beats for you
It only beats for you
This love, this heart
These arms, theyre only for you
This love, this heart
These arms, theyre only for you
Theyre only for you
song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Growin' Gray
HELLO, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray,
An' it beats ole Ned to see the way
'At the crow's feet's a-getherin' aroun' yore eyes;
Tho' it oughtn't to cause me no su'prise,
Fur there's many a sun 'at you've seen rise
An' many a one you've seen go down
Sence yore step was light an' yore hair was brown,
An' storms an' snows have had their way—
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray.
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray,
An' the youthful pranks 'at you used to play
Are dreams of a far past long ago
That lie in a heart where the fires burn low—
That has lost the flame though it kept the glow,
An' spite of drivin' snow an' storm,
Beats bravely on forever warm.
December holds the place of May—
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray.
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray —
Who cares what the carpin' youngsters say?
For, after all, when the tale is told,
Love proves if a man is young or old!
Old age can't make the heart grow cold
When it does the will of an honest mind;
When it beats with love fur all mankind;
Then the night but leads to a fairer day—
Hello, ole man, you're a-gittin' gray!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Dancing Girls
Its all become a fantasy
She sits and reads about tiffanys
I moan all day about the state of the world
And the sun beats down
Her book if full of pastel shades
Filigree femmes in lusts of jade
While all around the bullets flew
And the sun beats down
Oh heavy heart, as deep as the endless sea
A thought for every fish, why dont you let them be
Your books so frivol, but Im tired of mine
Show me some
Make me laugh and make me sing
Dancing girls
Make me laugh and make me sing
Dancing girls
So many years but nothings changed
We curse the fire but we still feed its flames
My cards repeating the same sad song
Why dont you put them down?
Tonight is young, as young as she needs to be
Theres room for love, as much as there needs to be
Show me a drink, show me a smile
Show me some
Make me laugh and make me sing
Dancing girls
Make me laugh and make me sing
Dancing girls
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Time
Times a teacher yesterday
You know I had nothing but time
Whyd you have to go away
I never got to tell you goodbye
And time beats up on me
Life is funny, life is strange
You know Im just trying to get by
Money, honey, buys you things
It cant buy a place in the sky
And time beats up on you
Another year disappeared
Where did it go?
People ask me
Whats the time
I really dont know
I really dont know
I really dont
I really dont know
And time beats up on you
And time beats up on you
Time beats up on
Time beats up on
Time beats up on
Time beats up on
Time beats up on me
Beats up on you
Beats up on you
song performed by by Fastball
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hello, Old man...
Hello, Old man, you’re hair is turning to gray,
Though it ought not cause me no surprise,
For there’s many a sun that you’ve seen rise and go down
Since your step was light and your hair was brown,
And storms and snows have had their way–
Hello, Old man, you’re hair is turning to gray,
And the youthful pranks that you used to play,
Are dreams of long ago lie in a heart where the fires burn low–
That has lost the flame though it kept the glow,
And spite of driving snow and storm,
Beats bravely on forever warm. December holds the place of May–
Hello, Old man, you’re hair is turning to gray,
Who cares what the carping’ youngsters say?
For, after all, when the tale is told,
Love proves if a man is young or old!
Old age can’t make the heart grow cold
When it does the will of an honest mind;
When it beats with love for all mankind;
Then the night but leads to a fairer day–
poem by Rey Sanidad
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Oh, Marion
The boys got brains
He just dont use em thats all
The boys got brains
He just refuse to use em and thats all
He said the more I got to thinkin
The less I tend to laugh
The boys got brains
He just abstains
The boys got a heart
But it beats on the opposite side
Its a strange phenomenon
The laws of nature defied
He said its a chance I had to take
So I shifted my heart for its safety sake
The boys got a heart but it beats on
His opposite side
Oh, marion,
I think Im in trouble here
I should have believed you
When I heard you saying it
The only time
That love is an easy game
Is when two other people
Are playing it
The boys got a voice
But the voice is his natural disguise
Yes the boys got a voice
But his words dont connect to his eyes
He says oh, but when I sing
I can hear the truth auditioning.
The boys got a voice
But the voice is natural
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come, My Beloved, Hear From Me
COME, my beloved, hear from me
Tales of the woods or open sea.
Let our aspiring fancy rise
A wren's flight higher toward the skies;
Or far from cities, brown and bare,
Play at the least in open air.
In all the tales men hear us tell
Still let the unfathomed ocean swell,
Or shallower forest sound abroad
Below the lonely stars of God;
In all, let something still be done,
Still in a corner shine the sun,
Slim-ankled maids be fleet of foot,
Nor man disown the rural flute.
Still let the hero from the start
In honest sweat and beats of heart
Push on along the untrodden road
For some inviolate abode.
Still, O beloved, let me hear
The great bell beating far and near-
The odd, unknown, enchanted gong
That on the road hales men along,
That from the mountain calls afar,
That lures a vessel from a star,
And with a still, aerial sound
Makes all the earth enchanted ground.
Love, and the love of life and act
Dance, live and sing through all our furrowed tract;
Till the great God enamoured gives
To him who reads, to him who lives,
That rare and fair romantic strain
That whoso hears must hear again.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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The Shepherd Boy
WHEN the red moon hangs over the fold,
And the cypress shadow is rimmed with gold,
O little sheep, I have laid me low,
My face against the old earth's face,
Where one by one the white moths go,
And the brown bee has his sleeping place.
And then I have whispered, Mother, hear,
For the owls are awake and the night is near,
And whether I lay me near or far
No lip shall kiss me,
No eye shall miss me,
Saving the eye of a cold white star.
And the old brown woman answers mild,
Rest you safe on my heart, O child.
Many a shepherd, many a king,
I fold them safe from their sorrowing.
Gwenever's heart is bound with dust,
Tristram dreams of the dappled doe,
But the bugle moulders, the blade is rust;
Stilled are the trumpets of Jericho,
And the tired men sleep by the walls of Troy.
Little and lonely,
Knowing me only,
Shall I not comfort you, shepherd-boy?
When the wind wakes in the apple-tree,
And the shy hare feeds on the wild fern stem,
I say my prayers to the Trinity,–
The prayers that are three and the charms that are seven
To the angels guarding the towers of heaven,–
And I lay my head on her raiment's hem,
Where the young grass darkens the strawberry star,
Where the iris buds and the bellworts are.
All night I hear her breath go by
Under the arch of the empty sky.
All night her heart beats under my head,
And I lie as still as the ancient dead,
Warm as the young lambs there with the sheep.
I and no other
Close to my Mother,
Fold my hands in her hands, and sleep.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Eight Years Old
SUN, whom the faltering snow-cloud fears,
Rise, let the time of year be May,
Speak now the word that April hears,
Let March have all his royal way;
Bid all spring raise in winter’s ears
All tunes her children hear or play,
Because the crown of eight glad years
On one bright head is set to-day.
II.
What matters cloud or sun to-day
To him who wears the wreath of years
So many, and all like flowers at play
With wind and sunshine, while his ears
Hear only song on every way?
More sweet than spring triumphant hears
Ring through the revel-rout of May
Are these, the notes that winter fears.
III.
Strong-hearted winter knows and fears
The music made of love at play,
Or haply loves the tune he hears
From hearts fulfilled with flowering May,
Whose molten music thaws his ears
Late frozen, deaf but yesterday
To sounds of dying and dawning years,
Now quickened on his deathward way.
IV.
For deathward now lies winter’s way
Down the green vestibule of years
That each year brightens day by day
With flower and shower till hope scarce fears
And fear grows wholly hope of May.
But we—the music in our ears
Made of love’s pulses as they play
The heart alone that makes it hears.
V.
The heart it is that plays and hears
High salutation of to-day.
Tongue falters, hand shrinks back, song fears
Its own unworthiness to play
Fit music for those eight sweet years,
Or sing their blithe accomplished way.
No song quite worth a young child’s ears
Broke ever even from birds in May.
VI.
There beats not in the heart of May,
When summer hopes and springtide fears,
There falls not from the height of day,
When sunlight speaks and silence hears,
So sweet a psalm as children play
And sing, each hour of all their years,
Each moment of their lovely way,
And know not how it thrills our ears.
VII.
Ah child, what are we, that our ears
Should hear you singing on your way,
Should have this happiness? The years
Whose hurrying wings about us play
Are not like yours, whose flower-time fears
Nought worse than sunlit showers in May,
Being sinless as the spring, that hears
Her own heart praise her every day.
VIII.
Yet we too triumph in the day
That bare, to entrance our eyes and ears,
To lighten daylight, and to play
Such notes as darkness knows and fears,
The child whose face illumes our way,
Whose voice lifts up the heart that hears,
Whose hand is as the hand of May
To bring us flowers from eight full years.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Orange Tree
The young girl stood beside me.
I Saw not what her young eyes could see:
- A light, she said, not of the sky
Lives somewhere in the Orange Tree.
- Is it, I said, of east or west?
The heartbeat of a luminous boy
Who with his faltering flute confessed
Only the edges of his joy?
Was he, I said, borne to the blue
In a mad escapade of Spring
Ere he could make a fond adieu
To his love in the blossoming?
- Listen! the young girl said. There calls
No voice, no music beats on me;
But it is almost sound: it falls
This evening on the Orange Tree.
- Does he, I said, so fear the Spring
Ere the white sap too far can climb?
See in the full gold evening
All happenings of the olden time?
Is he so goaded by the green?
Does the compulsion of the dew
Make him unknowable but keen
Asking with beauty of the blue?
- Listen! the young girl said. For all
Your hapless talk you fail to see
There is a light, a step, a call
This evening on the Orange Tree.
- Is it, 1 said, a waste of love
Imperishably old in pain,
Moving as an affrighted dove
Under the sunlight or the rain?
Is it a fluttering heart that gave
Too willingly and was reviled?
Is it the stammering at a grave,
The last word of a little child?
- Silence! the young girl said. Oh, why,
Why will you talk to weary me?
Plague me no longer now, for I
Am listening like the Orange Tree.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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To The Miami
Kiss me, Miami, thou most constant one!
I love thee more for that thou changest not.
When Winter comes with frigid blast,
Or when the blithesome Spring is past
And Summer's here with sunshine hot,
Or in sere Autumn, thou has still the pow'r
To charm alike, whate'er the hour.
Kiss me, Miami, with thy dewy lips;
Throbs fast my heart e'en as thine own breast beats.
My soul doth rise as rise thy waves,
As each on each the dark shore laves
And breaks in ripples and retreats.
There is a poem in thine every phase;
Thou still has sung through all thy days.
Tell me, Miami, how it was with thee
When years ago Tecumseh in his prime
His birch boat o'er thy waters sent,
And pitched upon thy banks his tent.
In that long-gone, poetic time,
Did some bronze bard thy flowing stream sit by
And sing thy praises, e'en as I?
Did some bronze lover 'neath this dark old tree
Whisper of love unto his Indian maid?
And didst thou list his murmurs deep,
And in thy bosom safely keep
The many raging vows they said?
Or didst thou tell to fish and frog and bird
The raptured scenes that there occurred?
But, O dear stream, what volumes thou couldst tell
To all who know thy language as I do,
Of life and love and jealous hate!
But now to tattle were too late,--
Thou who hast ever been so true.
Tell not to every passing idler here
All those sweet tales that reached thine ear.
But, silent stream, speak out and tell me this:
I say that men and things are still the same;
Were men as bold to do and dare?
Were women then as true and fair?
Did poets seek celestial flame,
The hero die to gain a laureled brow,
And women suffer, then as now?
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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My heart beat
It all seems like today
Ages have passed by…
My heart missed a beat
When I first saw you
When you stretched out your hand
When you spoke to me first
When you said you look good
When you stood talking for hours
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I met you
When we started dating
When we went on shopping
When we spent time in each other’s company
When we were in each other’s arms
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I wanted to say something
When you found that life was miserable
When you thought I should live with you
When you enjoyed my company
When you proposed to me
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I felt your love
When we first had a talk
When we had a long walk
When we never heard the waves on the shore
When we knew we loved each other
My heart missed a leap
My heart missed a leap
When I lost words
When you found them for me
When you touched me first
When you blew in my ears
When you kissed me first
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I saw the ring
When we decided
When we finalized things
When we knew everything was fine
When we heard the revolt
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I saw you parents
When you said your mother’s decision
When you were thinking twice
When you wanted to satisfy both
When your thoughts wavered
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I understood you
When we decided to go ahead
When we said this is the right time
When we told our friends
When we held hands
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I became your wife
When you were all to myself
When you said you love me lots
When you and your mother accepted me
When you became my world
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I knew a life in me
When we realized the fact
When we understood our culmination’s fruit
When we were to be too proud
When we heard a heart in me
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I first heard them cry
When you saw with sparkling eyes our babies
When you said they resemble me
When you said I am now a proud father of two
When you said I love you for this
My heart missed a beat
My heat missed a beat
When I heard them call me mom
When we were proud parents
When we shared happy moments
When we saw them grow
When we heard good things about them
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I knew it was time for marriages again
When you said just both of us now
When you saw me with love
When you said you look young still
When you whispered I love you
My heart missed a beat
You are a part of me
Even in our ripe old age
My heart beats only for you from day one
The day yours stop so will mine stop
For my heart beats only for you…
It all seems like today
Ages have passed by…
poem by Leena Bose
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Counting the Beats
You, love, and I,
(He whispers) you and I,
And if no more than only you and I
What care you or I ?
Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.
Cloudless day,
Night, and a cloudless day,
Yet the huge storm will burst upon their heads one day
From a bitter sky.
Where shall we be,
(She whispers) where shall we be,
When death strikes home, O where then shall we be
Who were you and I ?
Not there but here,
(He whispers) only here,
As we are, here, together, now and here,
Always you and I.
Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.
poem by Robert Graves
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Stanzas
If thou be in a lonely place,
If one hour's calm be thine,
As Evening bends her placid face
O'er this sweet day's decline;
If all the earth and all the heaven
Now look serene to thee,
As o'er them shuts the summer even,
One moment--think of me!
Pause, in the lane, returning home;
'Tis dusk, it will be still:
Pause near the elm, a sacred gloom
Its breezeless boughs will fill.
Look at that soft and golden light,
High in the unclouded sky;
Watch the last bird's belated flight,
As it flits silent by.
Hark! for a sound upon the wind,
A step, a voice, a sigh;
If all be still, then yield thy mind,
Unchecked, to memory.
If thy love were like mine, how blest
That twilight hour would seem,
When, back from the regretted Past,
Returned our early dream!
If thy love were like mine, how wild
Thy longings, even to pain,
For sunset soft, and moonlight mild,
To bring that hour again!
But oft, when in thine arms I lay,
I've seen thy dark eyes shine,
And deeply felt their changeful ray
Spoke other love than mine.
My love is almost anguish now,
It beats so strong and true;
'Twere rapture, could I deem that thou
Such anguish ever knew.
I have been but thy transient flower,
Thou wert my god divine;
Till checked by death's congealing power,
This heart must throb for thine.
And well my dying hour were blest,
If life's expiring breath
Should pass, as thy lips gently prest
My forehead cold in death;
And sound my sleep would be, and sweet,
Beneath the churchyard tree,
If sometimes in thy heart should beat
One pulse, still true to me.
poem by Charlotte Brontë from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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That's What I Get For Loving You
(Kent Blazy/Neil Thrasher)
I start every day with a smile on my face
And the feel of a kiss on my lips
When the world plays to rough I can find a healin touch
Lifes never been better than this
Thats what I get for lovin you
Heavens right here in my hands
A dream that is real and a heart that beats true
Thats what I get for lovin you
There was a time I walked outside the lines
I only thought of myself
Then you sat me down turned my head around
Now, I put you before everything else
Thats what I get for lovin you
Heavens right here in my hands
A dream that is real and a heart that beats true
Thats what I get for lovin you
Love is a feelin I never knew much about
Forevers a word I never said until now
Thats what I get for lovin you
Heavens right here in my hands
A dream that is real and a heart that beats true
Thats what I get for lovin you
Thats what I get for lovin you
Heavens right here in my hands
A dream that is real and a heart that beats true
Thats what I get for lovin you...
song performed by by Diamond Rio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thats What I Get For Lovin You
(kent blazy/neil thrasher)
I start every day with a smile on my face
And the feel of a kiss on my lips
When the world plays to rough I can find a healin touch
Lifes never been better than this
Thats what I get for lovin you
Heavens right here in my hands
A dream that is real and a heart that beats true
Thats what I get for lovin you
There was a time I walked outside the lines
I only thought of myself
Then you sat me down turned my head around
Now I put you before everything else
Thats what I get for lovin you
Heavens right here in my hands
A dream that is real and a heart that beats true
Thats what I get for lovin you
Love is a feelin I never knew much about
Forevers a word I never said until now
Thats what I get for lovin you
Heavens right here in my hands
A dream that is real and a heart that beats true
Thats what I get for lovin you
Thats what I get for lovin you
Heavens right here in my hands
A dream that is real and a heart that beats true
Thats what I get for lovin you
song performed by by Diamond Rio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All For Love
The girl next door has taste and style
Shes lookin so much better to me, yeah
Her flavor is hot as she passes by
Now I want her so much that it makes me scream, yeah
Our eyes collide, couldnt turn away
She licked her lips and smiled at me
When we find ourselves a little hideaway
I knew that I was in for somethin sweet
All for love
Im doin things ive never done before
All for love
Ill try my best cause shes the one my heart beats for
We hold each other neath the starry skies
I feel the rhythm of our hearts
This is harder than the 4th of july
And I want more of what shes got
I tell her things I always keep inside
I let her look into my soul
She says she loves me, can I squeeze her tight
Tonight there aint no letting go
All for love
Im doin things ive never done before
All for love
Ill try my best cause shes the one my heart beats for
In a daze all time
Dreaming about her day and night
All for love
Im doin things ive never done before
All for love
Ill try my best cause shes the one my heart beats for
All for love
All for love
All for love
All for love
Im doin things ive never done before
All for love
Ill try my best cause shes the one my heart beats for
All for love
Im doin things ive never done before
All for love
song performed by by New Edition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Priest's Heart
It was Sir John, the fair young Priest,
He strode up off the strand;
But seven fisher maidens he left behind
All dancing hand in hand.
He came unto the wise wife's house:
'Now, Mother, to prove your art;
To charm May Carleton's merry blue eyes
Out of a young man's heart.'
'My son, you went for a holy man,
Whose heart was set on high;
Go sing in your psalter, and read in your books;
Man's love fleets lightly by.'
'I had liever to talk with May Carleton,
Than with all the saints in Heaven;
I had liever to sit by May Carleton
Than climb the spheres seven.
'I have watched and fasted, early and late,
I have prayed to all above;
But I find no cure save churchyard mould
For the pain which men call love.'
'Now Heaven forefend that ill grow worse:
Enough that ill be ill.
I know of a spell to draw May Carleton,
And bend her to your will.'
'If thou didst that which thou canst not do,
Wise woman though thou be,
I would run and run till I buried myself
In the surge of yonder sea.
'Scathless for me are maid and wife,
And scathless shall they bide.
Yet charm me May Carleton's eyes from the heart
That aches in my left side.'
She charmed him with the white witchcraft,
She charmed him with the black,
But he turned his fair young face to the wall,
Till she heard his heart-strings crack.
1870
poem by Charles Kingsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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