Under the River
CLEAR and bright, from the snowy height,
The joyous stream to the plain descended:
Rich sands of gold were washed and rolled
To the turbid marsh where its pure life ended.
From stainless snow to the moor below
The heart like the brook has a waning mission
The buried dream in life's sluggish stream
Is the golden sand of our young ambition.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Related quotes
Rubaiyat 15
Spend time with wine by a stream,
And let sorrows away stream.
My life, like a rose, is but few days;
Youthful and joyous live this dream.
poem by Shams al-Din Hafiz
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Down On Longboat Key
She sits and stares out the window at the water
Every night down at ....Cafe'
All alone she sips her pina colada
Talking to herself, dreaming time away
The story is that a dark haired stranger
Stole her heart many years ago
He promised her he'd come back and take her
Around the world, bring her hills of gold
Chorus:
Down on Longboat Key
Where the island sand meet the Gulf Stream Bridge
Down on Longboat Key
She spends her life in a dream
On Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key.
Each afternoon as the snugboats come in
She runs to meet them down at the pier
She sees the fishermen, the nets and the sunset
But she don't see him, her eyes fill with tears
She stands there looking at the crystal blue water
And in the coral she imagines pearls
She makes believe he brought them all the way from China
Then the water swirls
The blue-green water swirls
Chorus:
Down on Longboat Key
Where the island sand meet the Gulf Stream breeze
Down on Longboat Key
She spends her life in a dream
On Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key.
Young sailors make a play to take her home
She says 'No, I'm already taken'
Oh, they just laugh when she mentions his name
She just keeps on waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting
Chorus:
Down on Longboat Key
Where the island sand meet the Gulf Stream breeze
Down on Longboat Key
She spends her life in a dream
On Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key
Down on Longboat Key.
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River
In my first sleep
I came to the river
And looked down
Through the clear water -
Only in dream
Water so pure,
Laced and undulant
Lines of flow
On its rocky bed
Water of life
Streaming for ever.
A house was there
Beside the river
And I, arrived,
An expected guest
About to explore
Old gardens and libraries -
But the car was waiting
To drive me away.
One last look
Into that bright stream -
Trout there were
And clear on the bottom
Monster form
Of the great crayfish
That crawls to the moon.
On its rocky bed
Living water
In whorls and ripples
Flowing unbended.
There was the car
To drive me away.
We crossed the river
Of living water -
I might not stay,
But must return
By the road too short
To the waiting day.
In my second dream
Pure I was and free
By the rapid stream,
My crystal house the sky,
The pure crystalline sky.
Into the stream I flung
A bottle of clear glass
That twirled and tossed and spun
In the water's race
Flashing the morning sun.
Down that swift river
I saw it borne away,
My empty crystal form,
Exultant saw it caught
Into the current's spin,
The flashing water's run.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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Filter dunes
dust looks like snow fall, rolling
down of rocks, raved with green grass
splendid with dirt, until the rain comes
and cleanse the ground, the ended
last in a life time of June
oh! smooth tiny particle, halo in
the wind pool of uncertainty, deals in
the fate of every journey
love yet far in the eyes of the beholder
rain as it gone and stay like turbid
in the turmoil of the stream, I come to
settle down in your mind
who lead me to find the heart of the
faithful servant, please live in me
as I go let my dream reaches the hope of
my destination.....
poem by Antonio Liao
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In the Beck
There is a fish, that quivers in the pool,
itself a shadow, but its shadow, clear.
Catch it again and again, it still is there.
Against the flowing stream, its life keeps pace
with death - the impulse and the flash of grace
hiding in its stillness, moves to be motionless.
No net will hold it - always it will return
Where the ripples settle, and the sand -
It lives unmoved, equated with the stream,
As flowers are fit for air, man for his dream.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
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A Mid-Day Dreamer
I love to sit alone, and dream,
And dream, and dream;
In fancy's boat to softly glide
Along some stream
Where fairy palaces of gold
And crystal bright
Stand all along the glistening shore:
A wondrous sight.
My craft is built of ivory,
With silver oars,
The sails are spun of golden threads,
And priceless stores
Of precious gems adorn its prow,
And 'round its mast
An hundred silken cords are set
To hold it fast.
My galley-slaves are sprightly elves
Who, as they row,
And as their shining oars they swing
Them to and fro,
Keep time to music wafted on
The scented air,
Made by the mermaids as they comb
Their golden hair.
And I the while lie idly back,
And dream, and dream,
And let them row me where they will
Adown the stream.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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The Goddess in the Wood
In a flowered dell the Lady Venus stood,
Amazed with sorrow. Down the morning one
Far golden horn in the gold of trees and sun
Rang out; and held; and died. . . . She thought the wood
Grew quieter. Wing, and leaf, and pool of light
Forgot to dance. Dumb lay the unfalling stream;
Life one eternal instant rose in dream
Clear out of time, poised on a golden height. . . .
Till a swift terror broke the abrupt hour.
The gold waves purled amidst the green above her;
And a bird sang. With one sharp-taken breath,
By sunlit branches and unshaken flower,
The immortal limbs flashed to the human lover,
And the immortal eyes to look on death.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1910)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Goddess In The Wood, The
In a flowered dell the Lady Venus stood,
Amazed with sorrow. Down the morning one
Far golden horn in the gold of trees and sun
Rang out; and held; and died. . . . She thought the wood
Grew quieter. Wing, and leaf, and pool of light
Forgot to dance. Dumb lay the unfalling stream;
Life one eternal instant rose in dream
Clear out of time, poised on a golden height. . . .
Till a swift terror broke the abrupt hour.
The gold waves purled amidst the green above her;
And a bird sang. With one sharp-taken breath,
By sunlit branches and unshaken flower,
The immortal limbs flashed to the human lover,
And the immortal eyes to look on death.
poem by Rupert Brooke
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Love's Young Dream
Oh! the days are gone, when Beauty bright
My heart's chain wove;
When my dream of life, from morn till night,
Was love, still love.
New hope may bloom,
And days may come,
Of milder calmer beam,
But there's nothing half so sweet in life
As love's young dream:
No, there's nothing half so sweet in life
As love's young dream.
Though the bard to purer fame may soar,
When wild youth's past;
Though he win the wise, who frown'd before,
To smile at last;
He'll never meet
A joy so sweet,
In all his noon of fame,
As when first he sung to woman's ear
His soul-felt flame,
And, at every close, she blush'd to hear
The one loved name.
No, -- that hallow'd form is ne'er forgot
Which first love traced;
Still it lingering haunts the greenest spot
On memory's waste.
'Twas odour fled
As soon as shed;
'Twas morning's winged dream;
'Twas a light, tht ne'er can shine again
On life's dull stream:
Oh! 'twas light that n'er can shine again
On life's dull stream.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Down the Stream
From whence the brook? From where the waters gather
In mountains' deep recesses, stone-black lakes
And dripping crevices. It ripples forth
Into the shining day with scarce a voice,
And with no strength at all, till mountain showers
And winter's snow and spring storms pour their flood
Into the dancing brook, that foams and starts
And rushes headlong down the steeps and throws
Into the Unknown all its youth and strength,
And thunders into hell, to rise again
In sheets of whiteness into dreamy veils,
To kiss the flowers' feet and overflow
The meadows; thence, o'erbridged and caught and fastened
To wheels, to grind and grind with irksome noise,
To lose all liberty, all winsome frolic,
And work till doomsday. On and on the stream
Goes widening into calm and mighty strength,
A hero of a stream, that bears the ships
Like toys, and carries legions.
Wider still
He grows, and stronger, as he drags the waters
Of hundred rivers with him to the sea.
At last his course is sluggish, tired, slow,
A living death, till, blended with the sea,
A rising tide will carry him away
Into oblivion. Such is life! A stream
From unknown heights through storm and dangerous fall,
Through unknown land and never-ending work
Unto Eternity's great, unknown sea.
You cannot rise above the height you come from,
You only widen and expand--but downwards,--
Your strength is gone, your impetus is quenched.
And then the world will call you great and grand,
And make a fortune out of all those waters:
Your tears, your blood, your work, and what you spent;
The strength of all your aims and all your falls!
poem by Carmen Sylva
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Tree In The Field
Perhaps it was a dream,
that ripped Reality's seam,
on that day I saw the tree,
alone in a green sea.
Years washed over it,
the world its roots bit,
yet still that tree lives,
till to it my life I give.
We would watch my old friend,
under a black sky with no end,
where the stars would smile bright,
and life didn't seem so trite.
But everyone dies I guess,
and I am something less
than the sylvan Keeper
of memories of a world gone deeper.
As the glory of the stars arises,
no longer will there be surprises,
for my tomb has been set,
under the Tree With No Regret.
Where the waves once foamed,
and the horses once roamed,
there is only ashes,
unmarred by Sadness' slashes.
Perhaps its only a dream,
to be buried by the stream
of roots filled with knowledge
of when Death falls off the edge.
poem by Soren Valentine
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Heavenly Enchantment (Revised)
Pleasured in a kitchen’s heavenly
enchantment, washed dishes to classical
music’s accompaniment, heart fortified
by the dream I cherish within
Graced in golden reflections shaped
by sunbeams’ radiance on walls, green
hues so beautiful I float lightly within
the softened embrace of my dream
Empowered by this ethereal vision,
drifting in a current strong enough
to carry me across the stream
of a duty-bound life
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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The Golden Rose
A POOR lost princess, weary and worn,
Came over the down by the wind-washed moor,
And the king looked out on her grace forlorn,
And he took her in at his palace door.
He made her queen, he gave her a crown,
Bidding her rest and be glad and gay
In his golden town, with a golden gown,
And a new gold lily every day.
But the crown is heavy, the gold gown gray,
And the queen's pale breast is like autumn snows;
For he brings a gold lily every day,
But no king gathers the golden rose.
One came at last to the palace keep
By worlds of water and leagues of land,
Gray were his garments, his eyes were deep,
And he held the golden rose in his hand.
She left gold gown, gold town, gold crown,
And followed him straight to a world apart,
And he left her asleep on the wind-washed down,
With the golden rose on her quiet heart.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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My Lady Amaranth
My Lady Amaranth
By: Adam M. Snow
My Lady Amaranth who hides thy face so dear;
such beauty shrouds such mystery-
be it only by fear, fear of thy morning glory.
But it not be a dream to guide thee.
But it be a dream to guide me.
A song sought after thy voice my Lady
thus it be thy eternity sought after.
To grasp thy brokenness, to grasp thy longing;
to wake thyself from mongering.
My Amaranth, my flower which grows in many shades;
be ye my Amaranth that never fades.
Thy voice which echoes my name by night,
thy beauty like starry clusters bright;
my Lady shrouds of mystery and light
be my love, my longing life.
But it's a life that cannot be
forever my heart aches of thee.
Dost thou not knowth my name by heart?
O' ye Blameless of a Name-
where thee of Darkness dwells,
captivate thy love in greater dells.
Hearken ye, these olden tales
Deep in the pits where life dare not go
and stream of life cease to flow.
From ye that of Joyous ends,
and that of tragic bends.
Forever spun upon thy pen.
Understand what happened the day I fell,
as I reach for thee, I bid thee fare-thee-well.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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To One Of The Author's Children
On His Birthday, 27 August, 1825.
THOU wak'st from happy sleep to play
With bounding heart, my boy!
Before thee lies a long bright day
Of summer and of joy.
Thou hast no heavy thought or dream
To cloud thy fearless eye;?
Long be it thus?life's early stream
Should still reflect the sky.
Yet ere the cares of life lie dim
On thy young spirit's wings,
Now in thy morn forget not Him
From whom each pure thought springs!
So in the onward vale of tears,
Where'er thy path may be,
When strength hath bowed to evil years?
He will remember thee.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Wash Us Away
On the very first decade that we got to dream in
Our fathers were angry, our mother's were screamin'
At the clothes we were wearin' and the music we got off on
Hitler was dead, welcome to Babylon
Carved our initials out across the sand
The heart and the arrow, no-one understands
Then the tide rolled in and everything ran
And washed us away, washed us away, washed us away
Up in the attic ambition was burning
Now my fingers were bleedin' but the tables were turning
Down in the city the future was beckoning
And I hated myself on the day of reckoning
(Oh yeah)
Carved our initials on top of the cake
The heart and the arrow - the rattle and the snake
How was I to know that the Earth was gonna break
And wash us away, wash us away, wash us away
Everything's temporary in this world
Ain't it a shame when you lose someone
Here tomorrow, gone today
Wash us away, wash us away, wash us away
There was never a fool like a young fool alone in
A world without someone he can find a home in
And for all the wrong reasons we rescued each other
You bandaged my heart I never would recover
(ohhhh)
No river runs true, it always takes a twist
Hearts can be broken, arrows gonna miss
How was I to know that it was gonna come down to this
And wash us away
And we wrote our names on the Dead Sea Scrolls
The young and the restless, the brave and the bold
How was we to know it was gonna get outta control
And wash us away, wash us away, wash us away, wash us away, wash us away,wash us away, wash us away
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Fades A Dream
WHY fades a dream?
An iridescent ray
Flecked in between the tryst
Of night and day.
Why fades a dream? —
Of consciousness the shade
Wrought out by lack of light and made
Upon life's stream.
Why fades a dream?
That thought may thrive,
So fades the fleshless dream;
Lest men should learn to trust
The things that seem.
So fades a dream,
That living thought may grow
And like a waxing star-beam glow
Upon life's stream —
So fades a dream.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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‘And ask ye why these sad tears stream?’
'And ask ye why these sad tears stream?'
‘Te somnia nostra reducunt.’
OVID.
And ask ye why these sad tears stream?
Why these wan eyes are dim with weeping?
I had a dream–a lovely dream,
Of her that in the grave is sleeping.
I saw her as ’twas yesterday,
The bloom upon her cheek still glowing;
And round her play’d a golden ray,
And on her brows were gay flowers blowing.
With angel-hand she swept a lyre,
A garland red with roses bound it;
Its strings were wreath’d with lambent fire
And amaranth was woven round it.
I saw her mid the realms of light,
In everlasting radiance gleaming;
Co-equal with the seraphs bright,
Mid thousand thousand angels beaming.
I strove to reach her, when, behold,
Those fairy forms of bliss Elysian,
And all that rich scene wrapt in gold,
Faded in air–a lovely vision!
And I awoke, but oh! to me
That waking hour was doubly weary;
And yet I could not envy thee,
Although so blest, and I so dreary.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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To Mrs. Macmarland
IN Schnee der Alpen - so it runs
To those divine accords - and here
We dwell in Alpine snows and suns,
A motley crew, for half the year:
A motley crew, we dwell to taste -
A shivering band in hope and fear -
That sun upon the snowy waste,
That Alpine ether cold and clear.
Up from the laboured plains, and up
From low sea-levels, we arise
To drink of that diviner cup
The rarer air, the clearer skies;
For, as the great, old, godly King
From mankind's turbid valley cries,
So all we mountain-lovers sing:
I to the hills will lift mine eyes.
The bells that ring, the peaks that climb,
The frozen snow's unbroken curd
Might yet revindicate in rhyme
The pauseless stream, the absent bird.
In vain - for to the deeps of life
You, lady, you my heart have stirred;
And since you say you love my life,
Be sure I love you for the word.
Of kindness, here I nothing say -
Such loveless kindnesses there are
In that grimacing, common way,
That old, unhonoured social war.
Love but my dog and love my love,
Adore with me a common star -
I value not the rest above
The ashes of a bad cigar.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Life Convict
From the days of Socrates, the wives were cruel
Yet, we keep on to marry - thinking she is life real
No honest man will say that he is happy
At his wife, with her given habits and life styles
Seamless love is a very distant dream
With a ever quarreling wife by your side
The desires for a joyous, peaceful, spotless stream
Can only be a mirage, washed down by the endless tides
And so, we distract the bridegroom on deceptive importance
With uneasy suit, garlands, flood lights, smoke, sound & rituals
To ensure that he remains blind-folded at least that day
Till he walks into the treacherous trap ….as a LIFE CONVICT.
poem by Santhana Louis
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