By Her White Bed
By her white bed I muse a little space:
She fell asleep--not very long ago,--
And yet the grass was here and not the snow--
The leaf, the bud, the blossom, and--her face!--
Midsummer's heaven above us, and the grace
Of Lovers own day, from dawn to afterglow;
The fireflies' glimmering, and the sweet and low
Plaint of the whip-poor-wills, and every place
In thicker twilight for the roses' scent.
Then _night_.--She slept--in such tranquility,
I walk atiptoe still, nor _dare_ to weep,
Feeling, in all this hush, she rests content--
That though God stood to wake her for me, she
Would mutely plead: 'Nay, Lord! Let _him_ so sleep.'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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On A Grave In The Forest
Hush, gentle stranger. Here lies one asleep
In the tall grass whom we must not awaken.
For see, the wildest winds hush here and keep
Silence for her and not a leaf is shaken,
Lest she should wake and find herself forsaken.
Close to my feet aweary did she creep
And slept, and she is sweetly still mistaken
Deeming I stand by her and watch her sleep.
--Hush, gentle stranger! One as gentle lies
In this poor grave, and weep before you go
For one who knew no weeping, yet abode
Among our human sorrows and was wise
With tenderer sympathy than tears can show,
The gentlest kindliest creature made by God.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Amongst the Roses
I walked through a Forest, beneath the hot noon,
On Etheline calling and calling!
One said: “She will hear you and come to you soon,
When the coolness, my brother, is falling.”
But I whispered: “O Darling, I falter with pain!”
And the thirsty leaves rustled, and hissed for the rain,
Where a wayfarer halted and slept on the plain;
And dreamt of a garden of Roses!
Of a cool sweet place,
And a nestling face
In a dance and a dazzle of Roses.
In the drought of a Desert, outwearied, I wept,
O Etheline, darkened with dolours!
But, folded in sunset, how long have you slept
By the Roses all reeling with colours?
A tree from its tresses a blossom did shake,
It fell on her face, and I feared she would wake,
So I brushed it away for her sweet sake;
In that garden of beautiful Roses!
In the dreamy perfumes
From ripe-red blooms
In a dance and a dazzle of Roses.
poem by Henry Kendall
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Choriambics
Love, what ailed thee to leave life that was made lovely, we thought, with love?
What sweet visions of sleep lured thee away, down from the light above?
What strange faces of dreams, voices that called, hands that were raised to wave,
Lured or led thee, alas, out of the sun, down to the sunless grave?
Ah, thy luminous eyes! once was their light fed with the fire of day;
Now their shadowy lids cover them close, hush them and hide away.
Ah, thy snow-coloured hands! once were they chains, mighty to bind me fast;
Now no blood in them burns, mindless of love, senseless of passion past.
Ah, thy beautiful hair! so was it once braided for me, for me;
Now for death is it crowned, only for death, lover and lord of thee.
Sweet, the kisses of death set on thy lips, colder are they than mine;
Colder surely than past kisses that love poured for thy lips as wine.
Lov'st thou death? is his face fairer than love's, brighter to look upon?
Seest thou light in his eyes, light by which love's pales and is overshone?
Lo the roses of death, grey as the dust, chiller of leaf than snow!
Why let fall from thy hand love's that were thine, roses that loved thee so?
Large red lilies of love, sceptral and tall, lovely for eyes to see;
Thornless blossom of love, full of the sun, fruits that were reared for thee.
Now death's poppies alone circle thy hair, girdle thy breasts as white;
Bloodless blossoms of death, leaves that have sprung never against the light.
Nay then, sleep if thou wilt; love is content; what should he do to weep?
Sweet was love to thee once; now in thine eyes sweeter than love is sleep.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Night Coming Into A Garden
Roses red and white,
Every rose is hanging her head,
Silently comes the lady Night,
Only the flowers can hear her tread.
All day long the birds have been calling,
Calling shrill and sweet,
They are still when she comes with her long robe falling
Falling down to her feet.
The thrush has sung to his mate,
' She is coming ! hush ! she is coming ! '
She is lifting the latch at the gate,
And the bees have ceased from their humming.
I cannot see her face as she passes
Through my garden of white and red ;
But I know she has walked where the daisies and grasses
Are curtseying after her tread.
She has passed me by with a rustle and sweep
Of her robe (as she passed I heard it sweeping),
And all my red roses have fallen asleep,
And all my white roses are sleeping.
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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Come on baby no more cry
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the lord my soul to keep
My soul unworthy take my heart
That while I sleep my life depart
Now I lay me in my bed
A loaded gun against my head
My soul is barren wasted done
I lay me down a loaded gun
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the lord my soul to keep
That should you die before you wake
It is your soul the lord did take
hush-a-bye, hush-a-bye
I'll sing to you a lullaby
And then we'll both lay down to die
Come on baby no more cry
Mama's got a big surprise
She put it right between your eyes
And no more no more baby cries
Ssshhh now baby go to sleep
I pray the lord your soul to keep
I will not weep, I will not weep
That should you die, Before I wake
I pray the lord my soul to take
Now I lay me down with you
The Lord can have my own soul too
Now I lay me down to sleep
I pray the lord my soul to keep
My soul unworthy take my heart
That while I sleep my life depart
110909
poem by Terri Turrell
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Journey
Ah, could I lay me down in this long grass
And close my eyes, and let the quiet wind
Blow over me—I am so tired, so tired
Of passing pleasant places! All my life,
Following Care along the dusty road,
Have I looked back at loveliness and sighed;
Yet at my hand an unrelenting hand
Tugged ever, and I passed. All my life long
Over my shoulder have I looked at peace;
And now I fain would lie in this long grass
And close my eyes.
Yet onward!
Cat birds call
Through the long afternoon, and creeks at dusk
Are guttural. Whip-poor-wills wake and cry,
Drawing the twilight close about their throats.
Only my heart makes answer. Eager vines
Go up the rocks and wait; flushed apple-trees
Pause in their dance and break the ring for me;
And bayberry, that through sweet bevies thread
Of round-faced roses, pink and petulant,
Look back and beckon ere they disappear.
Only my heart, only my heart responds.
Yet, ah, my path is sweet on either side
All through the dragging day,—sharp underfoot
And hot, and like dead mist the dry dust hangs—
But far, oh, far as passionate eye can reach,
And long, ah, long as rapturous eye can cling,
The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake,
Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road
A gateless garden, and an open path:
My feet to follow, and my heart to hold.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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At Dawn
At dawn…
The time when I feel all alone
When everybody is asleep
And are still catching some zzzz’s
At dawn…
The hour when the place is quiet
When I’m almost dumb and deaf
And silence is all I can hear
At dawn…
The break when my mind’s unloaded
When my body is free from pains
And my heart is filled with wonder
At dawn…
Each day with a date with God
I spend this quiet time in grace
Thanking Him for the night that passed
At dawn…
I pray to our Almighty Lord above
Praising Him for who He is-
An awesome and wonderful God
At dawn…
I plead for His help so I could do
All the tasks that I have to make
At dawn, and for the rest of the day
poem by Rose de Ramar
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Thicker Than Blood
More info about this song in the song database
She was born in kansas city, raised in arkansas
Fell in love with an ex-marine
She already had three babies; he had one of his own
They came together for another and me
Our family never shared the same last name
But our family was a family, the same
(and they say) blood is thicker than water
Oh, but love is thicker than blood
Wreck out on the highway, rain falling down
Lord, he must have fell asleep at the wheel
Theres a number of people just standing around
Lord, I cant condemn the fear that they feel
For that river of red could be the death of me
God, give me strength and keep reminding me
That blood is thicker than water
Oh, but love is thicker than blood
Bridge:
And if blood is thicker than water
Then what are we fighting for
Were all sons and daughters
Of something that means so much more
I see it on my tv but I cant understand
Lord, its one big contradiction to me
How in gods name we love thy neighbor with fists
In our hands
And kill each other when we just dont agree
Why cant we see the walls we cant see through
And see what gods been telling me and you
(and that is) blood is thicker than water
Oh, but love, love is thicker than blood
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A New Morning
Could you have seen it coming
the wake of a new morning
where everything fell right into place
heaven shined down her grace
to keep you from falling
No-one there to hurt you again
you will never love in vain
where you hide behind your pain
with a smile on your face
behind a thin disguise
Your heart has been dismal
seems like for so long now
thinking that you were the one
to have to live in disgrace
from something you couldn't control
in a past so long ago
that shows darkness in your eyes
from all of the lies
they only knew how to tell
Now your dreams subside
as you weep no-more
all-in time is on your side
as you walk, not in fear anymore
from those who hurt you before
that only watched, as you cried
(spiritwind-2009)
poem by Spiritwind Wood
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The Garden Wall
Can you meet me in the evening
behind the garden wall
where the roses grow with scent so sweet
and the misty air does fall?
I will meet you there with open arms
and there we'll hear the song
that plays for lovers everywhere
with the musk of the rose so strong.
I shall wait quite still for your approach
and let my heart be stirred.
I'll anticipate your arrival
as the night creatures all are heard.
As the frogs do croak and the owl does hoot
they do not understand
how I long to see you once again
and take you by the hand.
Ah! to be in love is ecstasy
and to be without is pain.
So meet me behind the garden wall
and allow me to remain
alert for the sound of your footsteps
so softly in the grass.
One small hour is all I ask of thee,
so quickly shall it pass.
But that one small hour will content me
for I'll know that you still care.
And when that hour has passed on by
with the scent of the roses still there
I shall pick one for you, ripe from the vine
and place it in your hair.
And I'll remember how you looked at me
and the hour we did share.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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An Epitaph upon Husband and Wife
TO these whom death again did wed
This grave 's the second marriage-bed.
For though the hand of Fate could force
'Twixt soul and body a divorce,
It could not sever man and wife,
Because they both lived but one life.
Peace, good reader, do not weep;
Peace, the lovers are asleep.
They, sweet turtles, folded lie
In the last knot that love could tie.
Let them sleep, let them sleep on,
Till the stormy night be gone,
And the eternal morrow dawn;
Then the curtains will be drawn,
And they wake into a light
Whose day shall never die in night.
poem by Richard Crashaw
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From: Preludes for Memnon
LXII
I read the primrose and the sea
and remember nothing
I read Arcturus and the snow
and remember nothing
I read the green and white book of spring
and remember nothing
I read the hatred in a man’s eye
Lord, I remember nothing.
Scorn spat at me and spoke
I remember it not
The river was frozen round the ship
I remember it not
I found a secret message in a blade of grass
and it is forgotten
I called my lovers by their sweet names
they are all forgotten.
Where are my lovers now?
buried in me.
The blades of grass, the ships, the scorners?
here in me
The haters in the spring, snow and Arcturus?
here in me
The primrose and the sea?
here in me.
I know what humans know
no less no more
I know how the summer breaks
on Neptune’s shore
I know how winter freezes
the Milky Way
My heart’s home is in Limbo
and there I stay.
Praise Limbo, heart, and praise
forgetfulness
We know what the tiger knows
no more no less
We know what the primrose thinks
and think it too
We walk when the snail walks
across the dew.
I was a rash man in my time
but now I am still
I spoke with god’s voice once
now I am still
Evil made my right hand strong
which now is still
Wisdom gave me pride once,
but it is still.
Lie down poor heart at last
and have your rest
Remember to forget
and have your rest
Think of yourself as once you were
at your best
And then lie down alone
and have your rest.
These things are as time weaves them
on his loom
Forgot, forgetting, we survive not
mortal bloom
Let us give thanks, to space,
for a little room
Space is our face and time our death
two poles of doom
Come dance around the compass
pointing north
Before, face downward, frozen,
we go forth.
LXIII
Thus systole addressed diastole,—
The heart contracting, with its grief of burden,
To the lax heart, with grief of burden gone.
Thus star to dead leaf speaks; thus cliff to sea;
And thus the spider, on a summer’s day,
To the bright thistledown, trapped in the web.
No language leaps this chasm like a lightning:
Here is no message of assuagement, blown
From Ecuador to Greenland; here is only
A trumpet blast, that calls dead men to arms;
The granite’s pity for the cloud; the whisper
Of time to space.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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The Feeling of Sleep
As I lay here in bed
The only thing I dread
Is when I wake up tomorrow
And wish for the feeling of sleep
As I finally rest form my long days of work
There is no more ache in my legs
As I lay in my cloud bed
I rest my head on nothing but air
As I drift in to sleep
It feels like happiness is in the air
I can’t feel my body
As I can only dream good dreams
For I love the feeling of sleep
As sleep hit its highest point
I’m no longer responsive
For this is the feeling of sleep
As I descend form my sleep
The ache comes back
as if I never fell asleep
seven hours has pass
but it felt like one hour
this the one thing
that I long for
and that is the feeling of sleep
Poem Writer,
By: Jackie Thielman
poem by Jackie Thielman
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Sweet Mind
Sweet scent,
Sweet smell,
Sweet aroma,
Sweet mind;
Give me ear and listen to my muse,
For the muse of love is closer to you!
And like the smell of sweet scent of roses around you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Twilight In The North
O THE long northern twilight between the day and the night,
When the heat and the weariness of the world are ended quite:
When the hills grow dim as dreams, and the crystal river seems
Like that River of Life from out the Throne where the blessèd walk in white.
O the weird northern twilight, which is neither night nor day,
When the amber wake of the long-set sun still marks his western way:
And but one great golden star in the deep blue east afar
Warns of sleep, and dark, and midnight--of oblivion and decay.
O the calm northern twilight, when labor is all done,
And the birds in drowsy twitter have dropped silent one by one:
And nothing stirs or sighs in mountains, waters, skies,--
Earth sleeps--but her heart waketh, till the rising of the sun.
O the sweet, sweet twilight, just before the time of rest,
When the black clouds are driven away, and the stormy winds suppressed:
And the dead day smiles so bright, filling earth and heaven with light,--
You would think 't was dawn come back again--but the light is in the west.
O the grand solemn twilight, spreading peace from pole to pole!--
Ere the rains sweep o'er the hillsides, and the waters rise and roll,
In the lull and the calm, come, O angel with the palm--
In the still norther twilight, Azrael, take my soul.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Venus in the Garden
'Twas at early morning,
The dawn was blushing in her purple bed,
When in a sweet, embowered garden
She, the fairest of the goddesses,
The lovely Venus,
Roamed amongst the roses white and red.
She sought for flowers
To make a garland
For her golden head.
Snow-white roses, blood-red roses,
In that sweet garden close,
Offered incense to the goddess:
Both the white and the crimson rose.
White roses, red roses, blossoming:
But the fair Venus knew
The crimson roses had gained their hue
From the hearts that for love had bled;
And the goddess made a garland
Gathered from the roses red.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Wake Up Little Susie
Wake up little susie, wake up. wake up little susie, wake up.
The movie wasnt so hot, it didnt have much of a plot
We fell asleep, out goose is cooked, our reputation is shot
Wake up little susie, wake up little susie
What are you gonna tell your mama, what you gonna tell your pa
What are you gonna tell your friend when they say ooo la la
Wake up little susie, wake up little susie
Well I told your mama that youd be back by ten
Now susie, baby looks like we goofed again
Wake up little susie, wake up little susie, we gotta go home
Wake up little susie, wake up. wake up little susie, wake up.
The bullfrogs sound asleep, wake up little susie and weep
Its four oclock and were in trouble deep
Wake up little susie, wake up little susie
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heaven Help Us
Heaven help the child who never had a home,
Heaven help the girl who walks the street alone
Heaven help the roses if the bombs begin to fall,
Heaven help us all.
Heaven help the black man if he struggles one more day,
Heaven help the white man if he turns his back away,
Heaven help the man who kicks the man who has to crawl,
Heaven help us all.
Heaven help us all, heaven help us all, help us all.
Heaven help us, Lord, hear our call when we call
Oh, yeah!
Heaven help the boy who won't reach twenty-one,
Heaven help the man who gave that boy a gun.
Heaven help the people with their backs against the wall,
Lord, Heaven help us all.
Heaven help us all, heaven help us all, heaven help us all, help us all.
Heaven help us, Lord, hear our call when we call.
Now I lay me down before I go to sleep.
In a troubled world, I pray the Lord to keep, keep hatred from the mighty,
And the mighty from the small,
Heaven help us all.
Oh, oh, oh, yeah!
Heaven help us all.
song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heaven Help Us All
Heaven help the child who never had a home,
Heaven help the girl who walks the street alone
Heaven help the roses if the bombs begin to fall,
Heaven help us all.
Heaven help the black man if he struggles one more day,
Heaven help the white man if he turns his back away,
Heaven help the man who kicks the man who has to crawl,
Heaven help us all.
Heaven help us all, heaven help us all, help us all.
Heaven help us, lord, hear our call when we call
Oh, yeah!
Heaven help the boy who wont reach twenty-one,
Heaven help the man who gave that boy a gun.
Heaven help the people with their backs against the wall,
Lord, heaven help us all.
Heaven help us all, heaven help us all, heaven help us all, help us all.
Heaven help us, lord, hear our call when we call.
Now I lay me down before I go to sleep.
In a troubled world, I pray the lord to keep, keep hatred from the mighty,
And the mighty from the small,
Heaven help us all.
Oh, oh, oh, yeah!
Heaven help us all.
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Sweet Red Roses
O my Sweet Red Roses,
For ages I've been searching looking
For my sweet red roses,
Hopping round like a Kangaroo
Hoping to fall in love
With my sweet red roses.
As I firmly
Hold My Sweet Red Roses
Nearest Dearest to my heart
Like Christ born on Christmas Day
Lying in a manger
With eyes wide shut,
Her face incomparable to entire nature.
And as I closely
Hold my sweet red roses,
To myself,
Her wanderlust of holiness
Fills me up
Ushers me to her depth,
And I bear my soul to
My sweet red roses.
By day,
Her smile gives sunshine
Speaking gives life.
And by night,
Living grabs my love
And her very thoughts
Gives me hope.
O My Sweet Red Roses
Even when unconscious
Cannot breath
Cannot feel
Cannot talk
Cannot move nor touch,
It is you I shall continue remain loving,
Because your loving is in the Heaven's
Faithfulness up to the clouds
Beautifulness to the white snow.
O My Sweet Red Roses,
A thousand times I shall care
A million dimes I shall cherish
A billion rhymes I shall honor
A trillion dines I shall spring,
And a zillion miles I shall love
My sweet red roses.
O yes, yes,
My sweet red roses,
Mm yes, yes...
My sweet red roses.
poem by Francis Julian Zewu
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