Silence, Not Death
I START! I have slept for a moment;
I have dreamt, sitting here by her chair—
Oh, how lonely! What was it that touched me?
What presence, what heaven-sent air?
It was nothing, you say. But I tremble!
I heard her, I knew she was near—
Felt her breath, felt her cheek on my forehead—
Awake or asleep, she was here!
It was nothing—a dream? Strike that harp-string;
Again—still again—till it cries
In its uttermost treble—still strike it—
Ha? vibrant but silent! It dies—
It dies, just as she died. Go, listen—
That highest vibration is dumb.
Your sense, friend, too soon finds a limit
And answer, when mysteries come.
Truth speaks in the senseless, the spirit;
But here in this palpable part
We sound the low notes, but are silent
To music sublimed in the heart.
Too few and too gross our dull senses,
And clogged with the mire of the road,
Till we loathe their coarse bondage; as seabirds
Encaged on a cliff, look abroad
On the ocean and limitless heaven,
Alight with the beautiful stars,
And hear what they say, not the creakings
That rise from our sensual bars.
O life, let me dream, let her presence
Be near me, her fragrance, her breath;
Let me sleep, if in slumber the seeking;
Sleep on, if the finding be death.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Related quotes
Music: An Ode
WAS it light that spake from the darkness,
or music that shone from the word,
When the night was enkindled with sound
of the sun or the first-born bird?
Souls enthralled and entrammelled in bondage
of seasons that fall and rise,
Bound fast round with the fetters of flesh,
and blinded with light that dies,
Lived not surely till music spake,
and the spirit of life was heard.
Music, sister of sunrise, and herald of life to be,
Smiled as dawn on the spirit of man,
and the thrall was free.
Slave of nature and serf of time,
the bondman of life and death,
Dumb with passionless patience that breathed
but forlorn and reluctant breath,
Heard, beheld, and his soul made answer,
and communed aloud with the sea.
Morning spake, and he heard:
and the passionate silent noon
Kept for him not silence:
and soft from the mounting moon
Fell the sound of her splendour,
heard as dawn's in the breathless night,
Not of men but of birds whose note
bade man's soul quicken and leap to light:
And the song of it spake, and the light and the darkness
of earth were as chords in tune.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Clara Morris (Written for a Benefit Given Mrs. Morris)
The Radiant Ruler of Mystic Regions
Where souls of artists are fitted for birth,
Gathered together their lovely legions
And fashioned a woman to shine on earth.
They bathed her in splendor
They made her tender:
They gave her a nature both sweet and wild.
They gave her emotions
Like storm stirred oceans,
And they gave her the heart of a little child.
These Radiant Rulers (who are not human
Nor yet divine like the gods above)
Poured all their gifts in the soul of a woman
That fragile vessel meant only for love.
Still more they taught her,
Still more they brought her-
Till they gave her the world for a harp one day,
And they bade her string it-
They bade her ring it,
While the stars all wondered to hear her play.
She touched the strings in a master fashion,
She uttered the cry of a world's despair.
Its long-hid secret, its pent-up passion,
She gave to the winds in a vibrant air.
For ah! the heart of her,
That was the art of her,
Great with the feeling that makes men kin.
Art unapproachable,
Art all uncoachable,
Fragrance and flame from the spirit within.
The earth turns ever an ear unheeding
To the sorrows of art, as it cries for more:
And she played on the harp till her hands were bleeding
And her brow was bruised by the laurels she wore.
She knew the trend of it,
She knew the end of it.
Men heard the music and men felt the thrill.
Bound to the altar
Of art, could she falter?
Then came a silence-the music was still.
And yet in the echoes we seem to hear it
In waves unbroken it circles the earth:
And we catch in the light of her dauntless spirit
A gleam from the center that gave her birth.
Still is the fame of her
Felt in the name of her.
But low lies the harp that once thrilled to her strain.
No hand has taken it,
No hand can waken it-
For the soul of her art was her secret of pain.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Meadowlake Street
There's something about you
That reminds me of all those times
When I wasn't sorry, when I wasn't blue
The cherry moon it shone down on us
Under the stars shining down every one for you
If I could count them all
I would circle the moon
And count 'em back to nothing
Till I got to you
Something in you dies, when it's over
Everybody cries sometimes
If loving you's a dream
That's not worth having
Then why do I dream of you?
I used to be the house that you lived in
Down on Meadowlake Street
When you moved they cut down the maple tree
I carved your name into
The tree became a boat, I christened it your name
And when the water turned to salt
From your tears it hit the bottom of the ocean
Where I go when I hear your name
And I sink like a stone
Something in you dies, when it's over
Everybody cries sometimes
If loving you's a dream
That's not worth having
Then why do I dream of you?
Why do I dream of you
i feel like a dream that's not having
Like a nervous joke ain't nobody laughing
Like somebody with nothing 'cause they don't know
What they're wanting
Tiny like the sand in the cracks of drift wood
Washed up on the shore of an ocean of you
Boats out on the horizon
Made of the maple tree where we used to lie down
On Meadowlake Street counting the stars you and I
You and I
Something in you dies when it's over
Everybody cries sometimes
If loving you's a dream that's not worth having
Then why do I dream of you
Why do I dream of you
Why
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part III: Gods And False Gods: LIX
THE HAUNTED HOUSE
How loud the storm blew all that bitter night!
The loosened ivy tapping on the pane
Woke me and woke, again and yet again,
Till I was full awake and sat upright.
I listened to the noises of the night,
And presently I heard, disguised yet plain,
A footstep on the stair which mounted light
Towards me, and my heart outbeat the rain.
I knew that it was you. I knew it even
Before the door, which by design ajar
Waited your coming, had disclosed my fate.
I felt a wind upon my face from heaven.
I felt the presence of a life. My hair
Was touched as by a spirit. Insensate
I drew you to my bosom. Ah, too late!
I clutched the darkness. There was nothing there.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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I Dreamt A Dream
I dreamt a dream
But now I lay awake
Sleep far gone
But the dream goes on
Sweeter than sleep
More tender
Than a poem
Through eternity
Like an epic poem
Our love
Our home
All boundaries gone
Together
A second
A breath
A whisper
A chance
A moment
A blessing
A kiss
A prayer answered
Never spoken
Somehow from my heart
It strayed
Precious spirit
Teaching
Listening
Answering
C aring
The Spirit Moves between
Earth and Heavenly realms
Communicating with
You and me
The perfect seed
Faith
Hope
Charity
Virtue
Grace
And Love
Heaven on earth
Heaven above
Finding
Striving
Improving
Movi ng
Upon wings of a dove
From star to star
From light to light
Songs of worship
Songs of praise
Fill our nights
Fill our days
With dreams for you
With dreams for me
With dreams for us
With dreams of life
From a whisper
From a star
From a book
Never opened
From a book
Never Read
Words streaming now
Between heaven and earth
Between now and eternity
To your ears
To touch a place
Never touched
To bring you home to me
To break this grip
That locks your spirit
The dream is awake
For us to live
You have waited
And stayed awake
Share the hope
Share the dream
Stay free
Stay open
Dare to give
Dare to care
Dare to move
Dare to roam
Dare to live
Dare to dare
Life is where
Ever I go
I open doors
I overflow
With heavenly sweetness
With a heavenly glow
poem by Brian Kilpatrick
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Till Death Due Us Part
Wedding Bells will ring today
in the chapel dressed with hues
of white baby breath
At the strike of ONE you will
say I DO from that day forward
till DEATH WILL DO US PART
Tears of joy are shed, with blessings
sent from the chapel, crying tears
from my heart will lie in silent
You said I DO and I had to find some
meaning in this endless nightmare
So my love you say I Do, you live
your life till the fullest, I know without
words to be spoken, exactly what
lies in your heart till death due US PART
poem by Bonnie Collins
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A Song For All
A dream lets out a clarion call
For a song for all - you and me.
A song for all is sometimes not to be sung.
It needs no singer nor any music.
A song for all needs no listener either.
It`s often heard from within.
A song for all is often silent
As no torrents thereof transmounts the minds.
A song for all sometimes cristalises into a mute babe.
Then it cries for our care later.
A silent wave of a song not sung
Craves for an entry into our spirit stubborn.
The notes firm for a life time
Make the song unsung a nightingale sweetly dumb.
Your breath substantiates a life`s tale.
If I miss to feel it, I miss to hear a song.
Dear mortal enlightened, have a mind
To breathe your song into my indifferences.
A song sung for ourselves for once
Will make the cuckoo nostalgic ever,
And she will come to our dwelling places
To absorb the new notes unlearnt earlier.
A song for all may be a dream,
But its mute riches have no reverses.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Dream On
(being, in love)
Been travelling this road for so long
My eyes are tired but I carry on
The sun lays down its golden threads
I need a place to rest my head
Although I am far from home now
My souls with you
Its hard to be out here on my own
So far away, so far from home
I need to touch and feel your skin
To live this dream in sleep again
Although I am far from home now
My souls with you
So dream on, dream on
Freedom comes with timeless sleep
Dream on, dream on
In the arms of night
Your silent shadow gently speaks
Dream on, dream on
This hotel rooms a lonely place
Its a one night cell I must escape
So I drink away my loneliness
So I can sleep and dream again
Although I am far from home now
My souls with you
And as I fall into
The darkness of the night
You come to rescue me to
Shield me in your light
I feel your touch
The softness of your skin
You hold me close before
The day breaks in
This dreams so true
My heart it beats, it beats
It beats for you, for you
Although I am far from home now
My souls with you
So dream on, dream on
Freedom comes with timeless sleep
Dream on, dream on
In the arms of night
Your silent shadow gently speaks
So dream on, dream on
Dream on, dream on
So dream on, dream on
Dream on
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To M. S. G. : When I Dream That You Love Me
When I dream that you love me, you'll surely forgive;
Extend not your anger to sleep;
For in visions alone your affection can live,--
I rise, and it leaves me to weep.
Then, Morpheus! envelope my faculties fast,
Shed o'er me your languor benign;
Should the dream of to-night but resemble the last,
What rapture celestial is mine!
They tell us that slumber, the sister of death,
Mortality's emblem is given;
To fate how I long to resign my frail breath,
If this be a foretaste of heaven!
Ah! frown not, sweet lady, unbend your soft brow,
Nor deem me to happy in this;
If I sin in my dream, I atone it for now,
Thus doom'd but to gaze upon bliss.
Though in visions, sweet lady, perhaps you may smile,
Oh, think not my penance deficient!
When dreams of your presence my slumbers beguile,
To awake will be torture sufficient.
Two Quatrains
I
As eons of incalculable strife
Are in the vision of one moment caught,
So are the common, concrete things of life
Divinely shadowed on the walls of Thought.
II
We shriek to live, but no man ever lives
Till he has rid the ghost of human breath;
We dream to die, but no man ever dies
Till he has quit the road that runs to death.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Once I Saw My Nature!
Once I saw the light that glows
my existence.
I don't need these mortal eyes! Once I touched the deepest layer
of my existence,
I no more want even the
topmost heaven, even if it
exists! Once I breathed the airless
breath,
I no longer wish to breath this
polluted air! Once I smelt that fragrance of
odourless perfume of self, I no
longer like this nose.. Once I touched the heart of all
hearts,
I no longer wish to listen this
heart beat! Once I touch the toothless
wonder, I don't need these skin
and flesh! Once I heard That sboundless
music, I don't need this ears to
listen to any music! Once I found what is death, I
don't want live anymore Once I become one with truth I
don't need any words describing
it! Once I met with the beloved I
need no separation Oonce I felt that love I became
love and need it anymore.. Once I am one with my beloved I
am free of desires and aims Once I am bathed in by devine
nectar with grace,
I don't need live for anyone
except that divine.. I am here as guest and before I
close my drama here, wish to
thank all actors, who made my
drama super hit!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Away, Away, Ye Notes Of Woe!
Away, away, ye notes of woe!
Be silent, thou once soothing strain,
Or I must flee from hence--for, oh!
I dare not trust those sounds again.
To me they speak of brighter days
But lull the chords, for now, alas!
I must not think, I may not gaze,
On what I am--on what I was.
The voice that made those sounds more sweet
Is hush'd, and all their charms are fled
And now their softest notes repeat
A dirge, an anthem o'er the dead!
Yes, Thyrza! yes, they breathe of thee,
Beloved dust! since dust thou art;
And all that once was harmony
Is worse than discord to my heart!
'Tis silent all!--but on my ear
The well remember'd echoes thrill;
I hear a voice I would not hear,
A voice that now might well be still:
Yet oft my doubting soul 'twill shake;
Even slumber owns its gentle tone,
Till consciousness will vainly wake
To listen, though the dream be flown.
Sweet Thyrza! waking as in sleep,
Thou art but now a lovely dream;
A star that trembled o'er the deep,
Then turn'd from earth its tender beam.
But he who through life's dreary way
Must pass, when heaven is veil'd in wrath,
Will long lament the vanish'd ray
That scatter'd gladness o'er his path.
December 6, 1811.
The Hartley Calamity
The Hartley men are noble, and
Ye'll hear a tale of woe;
I'll tell the doom of the Hartley men -
The year of sixty two.
'Twas on the Thursday morning, on
The first month of the year,
When there befell the thing that well
May rend the heart to hear.
Ere chanticleer with music rare
Awakes the old homestead,
The Hartley men are up and off
To earn their daily bread.
On, on they toil; with heat they broil,
And streams of sweat still glue
The stour unto their skins, till they
Are black as the coal they hew.
Now to and fro the putters go,
The waggons to and fro,
And clang on clang the wheel and hoof
Ring in the mine below.
The din and strife of human life.
Awake in 'wall' and 'board',
When, lo! a shock is felt which makes
Each human heart-beat heard.
Each bosom thuds, as each his duds
He snatches and away,
And to the distant shaft he flees
With all the speed he may.
Each, all, they flee -- by two -- by three
They seek the shaft, to seek
An answer in each other's face,
To what they may not speak.
"Are we entombed?" they seem to ask,
For the shaft is closed, and no
Escape have they to God's bright day
From out the night below.
So stand in pain the Hartley men,
And o'er them speedily comes
The memory of home and all
That links us to our homes.
Despair at length renews their strength,
And they the shaft must clear,
And soon the sound of mall and pick,
Half drowns the voice of fear.
And hark! to the blow of the mal below
Do the sounds above reply?
Hurra, hurra, for the Hartley men,
For now their rescue's nigh.
Their rescue nigh? The sound of joy
And hope have ceased, and ere
A breath is drawn a rumble heard
Re-drives them to despair.
Together now behold them bow;
Their burden'd souls unload
In cries that never rise in vain
Unto the living God.
Whilst yet they kneel, again they fell
Their strength renewed -- again
The swing and the ring of the mall attests
The might of the Hartley men.
And hark! to the blow of the mall below,
Do sounds above reply?
Hurra, hurra, for the Hartley men,
For now their rescue's nigh.
But lo! yon light, erewhile so bright
No longer lights the scene;
A cloud of mist yon light has kiss'd
And shorn it of its sheen.
A cloud of mist yon light has kiss'd,
See! how long it steels,
Till one by one the lights are smote,
And deep the doom prevails.
"Oh, father, till the shaft is rid,
Close, close besides me keep;
My eyelids are together glued,
And I -- and I -- must sleep".
Sleep, darling, sleep, and I will keep
Close by -- heigh-ho!" To keep
Himself awake the father strives --
But he -- he too -- must sleep."
"O, brother, till the shaft is rid,
Close, close besides me keep;
My eyelids are together glued,
And I -- and I -- must sleep."
Sleep, brother, sleep and I will keep
Close by -- heigh-ho! To keep
Half awake the brother strives --
But he -- he too must sleep.
"O mother, dear! wert, wert thou near
Whilst sleep!" And the orphan slept;
And all night long by the black pit heap
The mother a dumb watch kept
And fathers, and mothers, and sisters, and brothers,
The lover and the new-made bride --
A vigil kept for those who slept,
From eve to morning tide.
But they slept -- still -- in silence dread,
Two hundred old and young,
To awake when heaven and earth have sped
And the last dread trumpet rung.
poem by Joseph Skipsey
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Twilight Music
Know you the low pervading breeze
That softly sings
In the trembling leaves of twilight trees,
As if the wind were dreaming on its wings?
And have you marked their still degrees
Of ebbing melody, like the strings
Of a silver harp swept by a spirit's hand
In some strange glimmering land,
'Mid gushing springs,
And glistenings
Of waters and of planets, wild and grand!
And have you marked in that still time
The chariots of those shining cars
Brighten upon the hushing dark,
And bent to hark
That Voice, amid the poplar and the lime,
Pause in the dilating lustre
Of the spheral cluster;
Pause but to renew its sweetness, deep
As dreams of heaven to souls that sleep!
And felt, despite earth's jarring wars,
When day is done
And dead the sun,
Still a voice divine can sing,
Still is there sympathy can bring
A whisper from the stars!
Ah, with this sentience quickly will you know
How like a tree I tremble to the tones
Of your sweet voice!
How keenly I rejoice
When in me with sweet motions slow
The spiritual music ebbs and moans -
Lives in the lustre of those heavenly eyes,
Dies in the light of its own paradise, -
Dies, and relives eternal from its death,
Immortal melodies in each deep breath;
Sweeps thro' my being, bearing up to thee
Myself, the weight of its eternity;
Till, nerved to life from its ordeal fire,
It marries music with the human lyre,
Blending divine delight with loveliest desire.
poem by George Meredith
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Awake
Wake me up
i dont want to sleep
without you i feel so weak
you hold me up
catch me when i fall
the only one who can hear
my silent screams
stay by my side
i need you here
as i look up at you
with blood flowing out
of my eyes and from my wrists
my pail cheek rests on your chest
i listen to your heart beat as you
carry me through the light
into my darkness once again i awake
all i here is baby, baby, baby wake up
i need you
i wake up sufficating
trying to breath
it was all a dream
you say i love you
i say it back
smiling as i think of
your heart beat
a southing sound
such as your voice
and your giggle when we kiss
those are just some of the things i never want to miss
if i wrote everything it would take a life time
and alot of space even with small writing
my wrists are healed and my tears have stoped
i am happy in your arms in my darkness again
without you i would still be asleep
dead inside
bleeding and left to die
but because of you i am awake and alive
poem by Sandy Vanity
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Sons Of The Silent Age
Sons of the silent age
Stand on platforms blank looks and note books
Sit in back rows of city limits
Lay in bed coming and going on easy terms
Sons of the silent age
Pace their rooms like a cells dimensions
Rise for a year or two then make war
Search through their one inch thoughts
Then decide it couldnt be done
Baby, Ill never let you go
All I see is all I know
Lets take another way down (sons of sound and sons of sound)
Baby, baby, Ill never let you down
I cant stand another sound
Lets find another way (sons of sound and sons of sound)
Sons of the silent age
Listen to tracks by sam therapy and king dice
Sons of the silent age
Pick up in bars and cry only once
Sons of the silent age
Make love only once but dream and dream
Dont walk, they just glide in and out of life
They never die, they just go to sleep one day
Baby, I wont ever let you go
All I see is all I know
Lets take another way down (sons of sound and sons of sound)
Oh baby, baby, baby, I wont ever let you down
I cant stand another sound
Lets take another way in (sons of sound and sons of sound)
(sons of sound and sons of sound)
Baby, baby, baby, fire away!
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Is The Law!
God is law, o Soul listen,
God is behind, that beauty around,
His presence makes flowers beautiful,
His presence brings
Fragrance to it,
Nature is green and full of life,
because he dwells there!
God is the one behind beauty of children,
God is present in beauty of woman,
God fills the strength in arms and chest of a man,
God's presence, makes the nightingale sing,
God is the Law who makes peacock dance,
God is the Law who make every one fight or work,
God is the Law who makes write read and sing,
as a law make everyone strong and good and talented!
Look at the death of a man,
He dies in three stages,
One when is limbs and legs become cold,
And then the tongue fails to say some thing,
Eyes that tries to see some one,
Ears to hear somthing from someone,
Finally with deep sigh God in him withdraws his last breath!
All animals and plant take birth and die as God is that law!
God is the Law, bring one into life,
God is the Law who make one enjoy and smile,
God is the Law of life or death,
God is law of love and likes,
God is law of mortal journey, God is the Law of happiness,
God is that immortal law,
God is full of immortal ideals and knowledge,
God is the Law of cause and effect,
God is that immortal law of all existence!
Ah! God is that grand law of all subtle laws and gross ones!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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In Your Sleep, I die
In your tender sleep, thy child cries
Bullied and tortured by ruthless foes
Amidst pain, I threw arms in the sky
Asleep thou are to comfort my woes.
In your slumber, they child weeps
My eyes grow wide, my arms go lame
Blood drips from me while thou sleep
Beyond that, lo! my heart aflame.
In your sleep, thy child dies
Preserving peace in my heart
Thy child dies so that your eyes
May open with a start.
poem by Geraldine Fernandez
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The Sleeper
As Ann came in one summer's day,
She felt that she must creep,
So silent was the clear cool house,
It seemed a house of sleep.
And sure, when she pushed open the door,
Rapt in the stillness there,
Her mother sat, with stooping head,
Asleep upon a chair;
Fast -- fast asleep; her two hands laid
Loose-folded on her knee,
So that her small unconscious face
Looked half unreal to be:
So calmly lit with sleep's pale light
Each feature was; so fair
Her forehead -- every trouble was
Smooth'd out beneath her hair.
But though her mind in dream now moved,
Still seemed her gaze to rest
From out beneath her fast-sealed lids,
Above her moving breast,
On Ann, as quite, quite still she stood;
Yet slumber lay so deep
Even her hands upon her lap
Seemed saturate with sleep.
And as Ann peeped, a cloudlike dread
Stole over her, and then,
On stealthy, mouselike feet she trod,
And tiptoed out again.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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The Music of the World and of the Soul
I
Why should I say I see the things I see not?
Why be and be not?
Show love for that I love not, and fear for what I fear not?
And dance about to music that I hear not?
Who standeth still i’ the street
Shall be hustled and justled about;
And he that stops i’ the dance shall be spurned by the dancers’ feet,
Shall be shoved and be twisted by all he shall meet,
And shall raise up an outcry and rout;
And the partner, too,
What ’s the partner to do?
While all the while ’tis but, perchance, an humming in mine ear,
That yet anon shall hear,
And I anon, the music in my soul,
In a moment read the whole;
The music in my heart,
Joyously take my part,
And hand in hand, and heart with heart, with these retreat, advance;
And borne on wings of wavy sound,
Whirl with these around, around,
Who here are living in the living dance
Why forfeit that fair chance?
Till that arrive, till thou awake,
Of these, my soul, thy music make,
And keep amid the throng,
And turn as they shall turn, and bound as they are bounding,
Alas! alas! alas! and what if all along
The music is not sounding?
II
Are there not, then, two musics unto men?
One loud and bold and coarse,
And overpowering still perforce
All tone and tune beside;
Yet in despite its pride
Only of fumes of foolish fancy bred,
And sounding solely in the sounding head
The other, soft and low,
Stealing whence we not know,
Painfully heard, and easily forgot,
With pauses oft and many a silence strange
(And silent oft it seems, when silent it is not),
Revivals too of unexpected change
Haply thou think’st ’twill never be begun,
Or that ’t has come, and been, and passed away
Yet turn to other none,
Turn not, oh, turn not thou!
But listen, listen, listen, if haply be heard it may;
Listen, listen, listen, is it not sounding now?
III
Yea, and as thought of some departed friend
By death or distance parted will descend,
Severing, in crowded rooms ablaze with light,
As by a magic screen, the seer from the sight
(Palsying the nerves that intervene
The eye and central sense between);
So may the ear,
Hearing not hear,
Though drums do roll, and pipes and cymbals ring;
So the bare conscience of the better thing
Unfelt, unseen, unimaged, all unknown,
May fix the entrancèd soul ’mid multitudes alone.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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