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Holy Sonnet XIX: Oh, to Vex Me

Oh, to vex me, contraryes meet in one:
Inconstancy unnaturally hath begott
A constant habit; that when I would not
I change in vowes, and in devotione.
As humorous is my contritione
As my prophane Love, and as soone forgott:
As ridlingly distemper'd, cold and hott,
As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none.
I durst not view heaven yesterday; and to day
In prayers, and flattering speaches I court God:
To morrow I quake with true feare of his rod.
So my devout fitts come and go away
Like a fantistique Ague: save that here
Those are my best dayes, when I shake with feare.

poem by John Donne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Holy Sonnet XIX: Oh, To Vex Me, Contraries Meet In One

Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in one:
Inconstancy unnaturally hath begot
A constant habit; that when I would not
I change in vows, and in devotion.
As humorous is my contrition
As my profane love, and as soon forgot:
As riddlingly distempered, cold and hot,
As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none.
I durst not view heaven yesterday; and today
In prayers and flattering speeches I court God:
Tomorrow I quake with true fear of his rod.
So my devout fits come and go away
Like a fantastic ague; save that here
Those are my best days, when I shake with feare.

poem by John Donne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Holy Sonnet 19

Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in one:
Inconstancy unnaturally hath begot
A constant habit; that when I would not
I change in vows, and in devotion.
As humorous is my contrition
As my profane love, and as soon forgot:
As riddlingly distempered, cold and hot,
As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none.
I durst not view heaven yesterday; and today
In prayers and flattering speeches I court God:
Tomorrow I quake with true fear of his rod.
So my devout fits come and go away
Like a fantastic ague; save that here
Those are my best days, when I shake with feare.

poem by John Donne from Holy Sonnets
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Holy Sonnet XIX: Oh, To Vex Me, Contraries Meet In One

Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in one:
Inconstancy unnaturally hath begot
A constant habit; that when I would not
I change in vows, and in devotion.
As humorous is my contrition
As my profane love, and as soon forgot:
As riddlingly distempered, cold and hot,
As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none.
I durst not view heaven yesterday; and today
In prayers and flattering speeches I court God:
Tomorrow I quake with true fear of his rod.
So my devout fits come and go away
Like a fantastic ague; save that here
Those are my best days, when I shake with fear.

poem by John Donne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Lamentable Ballad Of The Lady's Fall. To The Tune Of In Pescod Time

Marke well my heavy, dolefull tale,
You loyall lovers all,
And heedfully beare in your brest
A gallant ladyes fall.
Long was she wooed, ere shee was wonne
To lead a wedded life,
But folly wrought her overthrowe
Before shee was a wife.

Too soone, alas! shee gave consent
And yeelded to his will,
Though he protested to be true
And faithfull to her still.
Shee felt her body altered quite,
Her bright hue waxed pale,
Her lovelye cheeks chang'd color white,
Her strength began to fayle.

Soe that with many a sorrowful sigh,
This beauteous ladye milde,
With greeved hart, perceived herselfe
To have conceived with childe.
Shee kept it from her parents sight
As close as close might bee,
And soe put on her silken gowne
None might her swelling see.

Unto her lover secretly
Her greefe she did bewray,
And, walking with him hand in hand,
These words to him did say:
'Behold,' quoth shee, a maids distresse
By love brought to thy bowe;
Behold I goe with childe by thee,
Tho none thereof doth knowe.

'The litle babe springs in my wombe
To heare its fathers voyce,
Lett it not be a bastard called,
Sith I made thee my choyce.
Come, come, my love, perform thy vowe,
And wed me out of hand;
O leave me not in this extreme
Of griefe, alas! to stand.

'Think on thy former promises,
Thy oathes and vowes eche one;
Remember with what bitter teares
To mee thou madest thy moane.
Convay me to some secrett place
And marry me with speede;
Or with thy rapyer end my life,
Ere further shame proceede.'

'Alacke! my beauteous love,' quoth hee,
'My joye and only dear,
Which way can I convay thee hence,
When dangers are so near?
Thy friends are all of hye degree,
And I of meane estate;
Full hard it is to gett thee forthe
Out of thy fathers gate.'

'Dread not thy life to save my fame,
For, if thou taken bee,
My selfe will step betweene the swords,
And take the harme on mee:
Soe shall I scape dishonor quite,
And if I should be slaine,
What could they say but that true love
Had wrought a ladyes bane.

'But feare not any further harme;
My selfe will soe devise
That I will ryde away with thee
Unknowen of mortall eyes;
Disguised like some pretty page
Ile meet thee in the darke,
And all alone Ile come to thee
Hard by my fathers parke.'

'And there,' quoth hee, 'Ile meete my deare,
If God soe lend me life,
On this day month without all fayle
I will make thee my wife.'
Then with a sweet and loving kisse
They parted presentlye,
And att their partinge brinish teares
Stoode in eche others eye.

Att length the wished day was come
On which this beauteous mayd,
With longing eyes and strange attire,
For her true lover stayd.
When any person shee espyed
Come ryding ore the plaine,
She hop'd it was her owne true love;
But all her hopes were vaine.

Then did shee weepe and sore bewayle
Her most unhappy fate;
Then did shee speake these woefull words,
As succourless she sate;
'O false, forsworne, and faithlesse man,
Disloyall in thy love,
Hast thou forgott thy promise past
And wilt thou perjured prove?

'And hast thou now forsaken mee
In this my great distresse,
To end my dayes in open shame,
Which thou mightst well redresse?
Woe worth the time I eer believ'd
That flattering tongue of thine;
Wold God that I had never seene
The teares of thy false eyne.'

And thus with many a sorrowful sigh
Homewarde shee went againe;
Noe rest came in her waterye eyes,
Shee felt such privye paine.
In travail strong shee felt that night,
With many a bitter throwe;
What woefull paines shee then did feel
Doth eche good woman knowe.

Shee called up her waiting mayd
That lay at her bedds feete,
Who, musing at her mistress woe,
Began full fast to weepe.
'Weepe not,' said shee, 'but shutt the dores
And windowes round about,
Let none bewray my wretched state,
But keepe all persons out.'
'O mistress, call your mother deare,
Of women you have neede,
And of some skilfull midwifes helpe
That better may you speed.'
'Call not my mother for thy life,
Nor fetch no woman here;
The midwifes helpe comes all too late,
My death I doe not feare.'

With that the babe sprang from her wombe
No creature being nye,
And with one sighe, which brake her hart,
This gentle dame did dye.
The lovely litle infant younge,
The mother being dead,
Resigned its new received breath
To him that had it made.

Next morning came her own true love,
Affrighted at the newes,
And he for sorrow slew himselfe,
Whom eche one did accuse.
The mother with her new borne babe
Were laide both in one grave;
Their parents overworne with woe,
No joy thenceforth cold have.

Take heed,you dayntye damsells all,
Of flattering words beware,
And to the honour of your name
Have an especial care.
Too true, alas! this story is,
As many one can tell;
By others harmes learne to be wise,
And you shall do full well.

poem by Anonymous Olde English
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Ellinda, That Lately I Have Not Written

I.
If in me anger, or disdaine
In you, or both, made me refraine
From th' noble intercourse of verse,
That only vertuous thoughts rehearse;
Then, chaste Ellinda, might you feare
The sacred vowes that I did sweare.

II.
But if alone some pious thought
Me to an inward sadnesse brought,
Thinking to breath your soule too welle,
My tongue was charmed with that spell;
And left it (since there was no roome
To voyce your worth enough) strooke dumbe.

III.
So then this silence doth reveal
No thought of negligence, but zeal:
For, as in adoration,
This is love's true devotion;
Children and fools the words repeat,
But anch'rites pray in tears and sweat.

poem by Richard Lovelace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Elegy III: Change

Although thy hand and faith, and good workes too,
Have ſeal'd thy love which nothing ſhould undoe,
Yea though thou fall backe, that apoſtaſie
Confirme thy love; yet much, much I feare thee.
Women, are like the Arts, forc'd unto none,
Open to'all ſearchers, unpriz'd, if unknowne.
If I have caught a bird, and let him flie,
Another fouler uſing theſe meanes, as I,
May catch the ſame bird; and, as theſe things bee,
Women are made for men, not him, nor mee.
Foxes and goats; all beaſts change when they pleaſe,
Shall women, more hot, wily, wild then theſe,
Be bound to one man, and did Naturre then
Idly make them apter to'endure then men?
They'are our clogges, not their owne; if a man bee
Chain'd to a galley, yet the galley'is free;
Who hath a plow-land, caſts all his feed come there,
And yet allowes his ground more corne ſhould beare;
Though Danuby into the ſea muſt flow,
The ſea receives the Rhene, Volga, and Po.
By nature, which gave it, this liberty
Thou lov'ſt, but Oh! canſt thou love it and mee?
Likenſſe glues love: and if that thou ſo doe,
To make us like and love, muſt I change too?
More then thy hate, I hate it, rather let mee
Allow her change, then change as oft as shee,
And ſoe not teach, but force my'opinion
To love not any one, nor every one.
To live in one land, is captivitie,
To runne all countries, a wild roguery;
Waters ſtincke ſoone, if in one place they bide,
And in the vaſt ſea are more putrifi'd:
But when they kiſſe one banke, and leaving this
Never looke backe, but the next banke doe kiſſe,
Then are they pureſt; Change'is the nurſery
Of muſicke, joy, life, and eternity.

poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Elegy XX (Alternate) Love's War

Till I have peace with thee, warr other Men,
And when I have peace, can I leave thee then?
All other Warrs are scrupulous; Only thou
0 fayr free Citty, maist thyselfe allow
To any one: In Flanders, who can tell
Whether the Master presse; or men rebell?
Only we know, that which all Ideots say,
They beare most blows which come to part the fray.
France in her lunatique giddines did hate
Ever our men, yea and our God of late;
Yet she relyes upon our Angels well,
Which nere returne; no more than they which fell.
Sick Ireland is with a strange warr possest
Like to an Ague; now raging, now at rest;
Which time will cure: yet it must doe her good
If she were purg'd, and her head vayne let blood.
And Midas joyes our Spanish journeys give,
We touch all gold, but find no food to live.
And I should be in the hott parching clime,
To dust and ashes turn'd before my time.
To mew me in a Ship, is to inthrall
Mee in a prison, that weare like to fall;
Or in a Cloyster; save that there men dwell
In a calme heaven, here in a swaggering hell.
Long voyages are long consumptions,
And ships are carts for executions.
Yea they are Deaths; Is't not all one to flye
Into an other World, as t'is to dye?
Here lett mee warr; in these armes lett mee lye;
Here lett mee parle, batter, bleede, and dye.
Thyne armes imprison me, and myne armes thee,
Thy hart thy ransome is, take myne for mee.
Other men war that they their rest may gayne;
But wee will rest that wee may fight agayne.
Those warrs the ignorant, these th'experienc'd love,
There wee are alwayes under, here above.
There Engins farr off breed a just true feare,
Neere thrusts, pikes, stabs, yea bullets hurt not here.
There lyes are wrongs; here safe uprightly ly;
Tltere men kill men, we'will make one by and by,
Thou nothing; I not halfe so much shall do
In these Warrs, as they may which from us two
Shall spring. Thousands wee see which travaile not
To warrs; But stay swords, armes, and shott
To make at home; And shall not I do then
More glorious service, staying to make men?

poem by John Donne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet 7

Sweet Thames I honour thee, not for thou art
The chiefest River of the fairest Ile,
Nor for thou dost admirers eies beguile,
But for thou hold'st the keeper of my heart,
For on thy waves, (thy Christal-billow'd waves),
My fairest faire, my silver Swan is swimming:
Against the sunne his pruned feathers trimming:
Whilst Neptune his faire feete with water laves,
Neptune, I feare not thee, nor yet thine eie,
And yet (alas) Apollo lov'd a boy,
And Cyparissus was Silvanus joy.
No, no, I feare none but faire Thetis, I
For if she spie my Love, (alas) aie me,
My mirth is turn'd to extreame miserie.

poem by Richard Barnfield
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Shake Your Love

Chorus:
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake...
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Verse 1:
Im under a spell again
Boy Im wondering why
This is not a game of love but an emotional tie
Im trying to figure out my heart (heart...)
But I cant offer you proof
Of why we should never be apart
And that is the (that is the) that is the truth
Oh...
Chorus:
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Verse 2:
Do you know why I stop and stare
And smile when you walk by
And how I call you up at night
I hang up the phone and I cry
If I never got to know you so well (I knew you well)
Maybe I would be fine
Baby you know that I cant tell
Why you should be (you should be) you should be mine oh
Chorus:
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake...
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Bridge:
Ooh I know what youre thinking
I see it in your eyes
You want to give our love another try
Im so glad you realize I cant...
Chorus:
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Rap:
Shake it
Your love
Cant shake
Just cant shake your love
Chorus:
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake...
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake..(say shake it)
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake...
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love
Shake your love
I just cant shake...
Shake your love
I just cant shake your love

song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yesterday Is Gone

I'm sorry your situation
Has let you down
I know that things did not go as planned
'cause in this time you're feeling alone and sad
This is what you must understand
There is a way
Yesterday is gone
It's a new day
Yesterday is gone
Yesterday is gone
Yesterday is gone
My dear kay
You can't get nowhere
Staying at home and crying
You can't go on living in the past
The one thing constant is that there is always change
There is a way
Yesterday is gone
It's a new day
Yesterday is gone
Yesterday is gone
Yesterday is gone
My dear kay

song performed by by Lenny Kravitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yesterday Is Gone (My Dear Kay)

I'm sorry your situation
Has let you down
I know that things did not go as planned
'Cause in this time you're feeling alone and sad
This is what you must understand

There is a way
Yesterday is gone
It's a new day
Yesterday is gone
Yesterday is gone
Yesterday is gone
My dear Kay

You can't get nowhere
Staying at home and crying
You can't go on living in the past
The one thing constant is that there is always change

There is a way
Yesterday is gone
It's a new day
Yesterday is gone
Yesterday is gone
Yesterday is gone
My dear Kay

song performed by by Lenny Kravitz from Lenny
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Commendation Of Musick

When whispering straynes doe softly steale
With creeping passion through the hart,
And when at every touch wee feele
Our pulses beate and beare a part;
When thredds can make
A hartstring shake
Philosophie
Can scarce deny
The soule consists of harmony.

When unto heavenly joy wee feyne
Whatere the soule affecteth most,
Which onely thus wee can explayne
By musick of the winged hoast,
Whose layes wee think
Make starres to winke,
Philosophie
Can scarce deny
Our soules consist of harmony.

O lull mee, lull mee, charming ayre,
My senses rock with wonder sweete;
Like snowe on wooll thy fallings are,
Soft, like a spiritts, are thy feete:
Greife who need feare
That hath an eare?
Down lett him lye
And slumbring dye,
And change his soule for harmony.

poem by William Strode
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Course of Life, Time, And Events and The Process of Change

Time or fate may separate friends, lovers,
But friendship or love that's true will ever
Thenceforth continue to live forever,
True love conquers the odd with its power.
As time passes by, things change with the time,
Every moment, hour, day, month, and year,
All things have their turn to change with the time,
Life, time, and events change with the years.
Everyone, everything, have a time and day,
A time to change, end, begin a new day,
Change is life, the course of life everyday,
All things change, and we change with them all days.
Only the Eternal one is constant,
All things in the universe, inconstant,
But despite it all, love is important,
The world may change, but true love is constant.

poem by Merlin Archivilla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Little Love

some people walk the straight and narrow - some walk the rocky road
some get the silver spoon and some get the heavy load
there's a man in a paper box he smiles whenever we walk by
we just walk a little faster and say "there but for the grace of God go i"
but a little love - just a little love - a little love can change it all

i've been up and down this highway and i ain't seen a road sign yet
it's a cold hard world baby you gotta hang on to what you get
i don't believe in miracles but that don't mean they don't come true
well i may not get to heaven but i get a little closer when i'm with you
but a little love - just a little love - a little love can change it all

well i get a little tired walkin' down the street
people on my side - everyone i meet
but they don't know what's on my mind
and they don't know that they might find
a little love - just a little love - a little love can change it all

right when you think you don't need love is when you need it most
even if you got the father the son and the holy ghost
well there's more to truth baby than what we know is true
ya we wander round in the darkness
but every now and then a little light shines thru
and a little love - just a little love - a little love can change it all

song performed by by Bryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Effigy Of A Nun

Infinite gentleness, infinite irony
Are in this face with fast-sealed eyes,
And round this mouth that learned in loneliness
How useless their wisdom is to the wise.

In her nun's habit carved, carefully, lovingly,
By one who knew the ways of womenkind,
This woman's face still keeps its cold wistful calm,
All the subtle pride of her mind.

These pale curved lips of hers holding their hidden smile,
Show she had weighed the world; her will was set;
These long patrician hands clasping he crucifix
Once having made their choice, had no regret.

She was one of those who hoard their own thoughts lovingly,
Feeling them far too dear to give away,
Content to look at life with the high insolent
Air of an audience watching a play.

If she was curious, if she was passionate,
She must have told herself that love was great,
But that the lacking it might be as great a thing
If she held fast to it, challenging fate.

She who so loved herself and her own warring thoughts,
Watching their humorous, tragic rebound,
In her thick habit's fold, sleeping, sleeping,
Is she amused at dreams she has found?

Infinite tenderness, infinite irony,
Hidden forever in her closed eyes,
That must have learned too well in their long loneliness
How empty their wisdom is even to the wise.

poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Praying To The Aliens

Slowly the thought
There is no one to replace
Came into view
And he began to cry
Now only boys
That love only boys
The perfect picture
Of a boy/girl age
Im praying to the aliens
Im praying to the aliens
Grey overcoat
And he could be anyone
A random poll check
Do you ever think of women?
They broke him down
Into a torn old queen
Living somewhere
Between dead and dying
Im praying to the aliens
Im praying to the aliens
There are no more
Do you begin to see?
The corner of my eye
Could give me away
Isnt it strange
How times change?
I cant imagine
Living any other way
Im praying to the aliens
Im praying to the aliens

song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A New Year's Gift

We are prevented; you whose Presence is
A Publick New-yeares gift, a Common bliss
To all that Love or Feare, give no man leave
To vie a Gift but first he shall receave;
Like as the Persian Sun with golden Eies
First shines upon the Priest and Sacrifice.

Ile on howere; May this yeare happier prove
Than all the Golden Age when Vertue strove
With nothing but with Vertue; may it bee
Such as the Dayes of Saturnes Infancy.
May every Tide and Season joyntly fitt
All your Intents and your Occasions hitt:
May every Grayne of Sand within your Glass
Number a fresh content before it pass.
And when success comes on, stand then each howre
Like Josuah's Day, & grow to three or fowre:
At last when this yeare rounds and wheeles away,
Bee still the next yeare like the old yeares Day.

poem by William Strode
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Until We Meet Again in Heaven

Death is not the end of life
It’s just a brief journey and a drive
That takes loved ones to see the Lord
And meet with our compassionate God

So we must be prepared for that day dear
And tell loved ones not to dropp any tear
For everyone’s life will flash before the eye
So we must work hard to make it a worthwhile try

For people who die only leave
To meet again one day after a brief
Pause and a break with joy, smile and cheer
And welcome others to live in heaven dear

I miss my dad very much everyday
But I know his prayers are always in my way
And all those moments when joy we gathered
By playing and praying and smiling together

I’m sending him my love and prayers today
And know he is basking in the bliss of God’s way
And enjoying rewards from his good deeds bowl
For his kindness, greatness and for being a gentle soul

He spread so much love with his smile
He washed fog and mist all for a while
And always showed bright rainbow hue
To all whom he truly loved too

I miss him but know that he is there
His nice advice and his words of cheer
All guide my life and my way
Until we meet again in heaven one day.

(On My Dad’s 1st Death Anniversary)

poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Four Seasons

Maple leaves of yesterday
Rainbow leaves of morrow
Autumn strolls on its way
Time it fails to borrow.

Ice crystals of yesterday
Snow flowers of morrow
Winter roves on a dray
Time it fails to borrow.

Oak leaves of yesterday
Verdant leaves of morrow
April flows into May
Time it fails to borrow.

Blue blossoms of yesterday
Forget-me-not of morrow
Summer rides a railway
Love overcomes sorrow.

poem by Paul Hartal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The man of Woe

The mann whose thoughtes agaynste him do conspyre,
One whom Mishapp her storye dothe depaynt,
The mann of woe, the matter of desier,
Free of the dead, that lives in endles plaint,
His spirit am I, whiche in this deserte lye,
To rue his case, whose cause I cannot flye.

Despayre my name, whoe never findes releife,
Frended of none, but to my selfe a foe;
An idle care, mayntaynde by firme beleife
That prayse of faythe shall throughe my torments growe,
And counte those hopes, that others hartes do ease,
Butt base conceites the common sense to please.

For sure I am I never shall attayne
The happy good from whence my joys aryse;
Nor haue I powre my sorrows to refrayne
But wayle the wante, when noughte ellse maye suffyse;
Whereby my lyfe the shape of deathe muste beare,
That deathe which feeles the worst that lyfe doth feare.

But what auayles withe tragicall complaynte,
Not hopinge healpe, the Furyes to awake?
Or why shoulde I the happy mynds aquaynte
With doleful tunnes, theire settled peace to shake?
All ye that here behoulde Infortune's feare,
May judge noe woe may withe my gref compare.

Finis.

poem by Sir Edward Dyer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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