Fill For Me A Brimming Bowl
Fill for me a brimming bowl
And in it let me drown my soul:
But put therein some drug, designed
To Banish Women from my mind:
For I want not the stream inspiring
That fills the mind with--fond desiring,
But I want as deep a draught
As e'er from Lethe's wave was quaff'd;
From my despairing heart to charm
The Image of the fairest form
That e'er my reveling eyes beheld,
That e'er my wandering fancy spell'd.
In vain! away I cannot chace
The melting softness of that face,
The beaminess of those bright eyes,
That breast--earth's only Paradise.
My sight will never more be blest;
For all I see has lost its zest:
Nor with delight can I explore,
The Classic page, or Muse's lore.
Had she but known how beat my heart,
And with one smile reliev'd its smart
I should have felt a sweet relief,
I should have felt ``the joy of grief.''
Yet as the Tuscan mid the snow
Of Lapland dreams on sweet Arno,
Even so for ever shall she be
The Halo of my Memory.
poem by John Keats
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Nay, Tell Me Not, Dear
Nay, tell me not, dear, that the goblet drowns
One charm of feeling, one fond regret;
Believe me, a few of thy angry frowns
Are all I've sunk in its bright wave yet.
Ne'er hath a beam
Been lost in the stream
That ever was shed from thy form or soul;
The spell of those eyes,
The balm of thy sighs,
Still float on the surface, and hallow by bowl.
Then fancy not, dearest, that wine can steal
One blissful dream of the heart from me;
Like founts that awaken the pilgrim's zeal,
The bowl but brightens my love for thee.
They tell us the Love in his fairy bower
Had two blush-roses, of birth divine;
He sprinkled the one with a rainbow's shower,
But bathed the other with mantling wine.
Soon did the buds
That drunk of the floods
Distill'd by the rainbow decline and fade;
While those which the tide
Of ruby had dyed
All blush'd into beauty, like thee, sweet maid!
Then fancy not, dearest, that wine can steal
One blissful dream of the heart from me;
Like founts that awaken the pilgrim's zeal,
The bowl but brightens my love for thee.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Alone in Crowds to Wander On
Alone in crowds to wander on,
And feel that all the charm is gone
Which voices dear and eyes beloved
Shed round us once, where'er we roved --
This, this the doom must be
Of all who've loved, and loved to see
The few bright things they thought would stay
For ever near them, die away.
Though fairer forms around us throng,
Their smiles to others all belong,
And want that charm which dwells alone
Round those the fond heart calls its own,
Where, where the sunny brow?
The long-known voice -- where are they now?
Thus ask I still, nor ask in vain,
The silence answers all too plain.
Oh, what is Fancy's magic worth,
If all her art cannot call forth
One bliss like those we felt of old
From lips now mute, and eyes now cold?
No, no -- her spell in vain --
As soon could she bring back again
Those eyes themselves from out the grave,
As wake again one bliss they gave.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Address To Music
OH thou! whose soft, bewitching lyre,
Can lull the sting of pain to rest;
Oh thou! whose warbling notes inspire,
The pensive muse with visions blest;
Sweet music! let thy melting airs
Enhance my joys, and sooth my cares!
Is there enchantment in thy voice,
Thy dulcet harp, thy moving measure;
To bid the mournful mind rejoice,
To raise the fairy form of pleasure?
Yes, heav'nly maid! a charm is thine,
A magic art, a spell divine!
Sweet music! when thy notes we hear,
Some dear remembrance oft they bring,
Of friends belov'd, no longer near,
And days that flew on rapture's wing;
Hours of delight that long are past,
And dreams of joy, too bright to last!
And oft 'tis thine the soul to fire,
With glory's animating flame,
Bid valor's noble sons aspire
To win th' immortal wreath of fame
Thine too, the soft, expressive tones,
That pity, tender pity owns!
Oh harmony! celestial pow'r!
Thou syren of the melting soul!
In sorrow's reign, in pleasure's hour,
My heart shall own thy blest control;
And ever let thy moving airs,
Enhance my joys and sooth my cares!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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With Each Beat Of My Heart
Honey, sweet
Ive got something to say to you in privacy
Something Id like for you to hear
And only your ears alone
Secretly
Ive been admiring you intensely
So much so Id like to settle down with you
And make a home
You are my first breath
My first smile
And my morning cup of tea
Yours is the love
That I pray for
Before I go to sleep
From the time I saw your face
I knew no other could erase
My loving you with each beat of my heart
Until the day I heard your speak
I didnt know that sound was sweet
Me hearing you with each beat of my heart
Theres a time when playing ends
And the serious begins
Like the love that I felt from the start
With each beat of my heart
Honey, sweet
I soared into a heavens galaxy
So hypnotized was i
From seeing all the magic in your eyes
So I bring
To you whats been a lifetime fantasy
O f being with the only one who can
Create my paradise
You are my first breath
My first smile
And my morning cup of tea
Yours is the love
That I pray for
Before I go to sleep
From the time I saw your face
I knew no other could erase
My loving you with each beat of my heart
Until the day I heard your speak
I didnt know that sound was sweet
Me hearing you with each beat of my heart
Theres a time when playing ends
And the serious begins
Like the love that I felt from the start
With each beat of my heart
Theres a time when playing ends
And the serious begins
Like the love that I felt from the start
With each beat of my heart
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song
I.
Slow spreads the gloom my soul desires--
The sun from India's shore retires--
To EVAN'S banks with temp'rate ray,
Home of my youth! he leads the day.
O banks to me for ever dear!
O stream, whose murmurs still I hear!
All, all my hopes of bliss reside
Where EVAN mingles with the CLYDE .
II.
And she in simple beauty drest,
Whose image lives within my breast,
Who trembling heard my parting sigh,
And long pursued me with her eye!
Does she, with heart unchang'd as mine,
Oft in the vocal bowers recline?
Or where yon grot o'erhangs the tide,
Muse, while the EVAN meets the CLYDE ?
III.
Ye lofty banks that EVAN bound,
Ye lavish woods that wave around,
And o'er the stream your shadows throw,
Which softly winds so far below--
What secret charm to mem'ry brings
All that on EVAN'S border springs?
Sweet banks!--ye bloom by MARY'S side!
Blest stream!--she views thee haste to CLYDE!
IV.
Can all the wealth of INDIA'S coast
Atone for years in absence lost?
Return, ye moments of delight,
With richer treasures bless my sight!
Swift from this desert let me part,
And fly to meet a kindred heart!
Nor more may aught my steps divide
From that dear stream which flows to CLYDE.
poem by Helen Maria Williams
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Something In Your Eyes
(richard carpenter / p. phillips oland)
There was a certain face
That filled a thousand nights
With all the sweetest dreams
And promises of paradise
But that face was gone
When the dawn would come and steal you
Yet, I still could feel you
Waiting just a kiss away
Id surely know your face
Your love would cast a spell
Id recognise each curve and line of you,
I knew it well
Now at last youre here and I can tell
Something in your eyes I see
Is all I ever wanted
And something in your smile for me
Is calling out my name
Your eyes, it seems
Are mirrors of my dreams
In ways I cant explain.
And my heart will never be the same
We never said a word
As if wed always known
But through the bittersweet of waiting
We were not alone
Now were close enough
For the touch of love to find us
Fantasies designed us
But they never really could
Begin to measure you
No pictures ever do
And as I watch you framed in sunlight
In a sky of blue
I know what my lifes been leading to
Something in your eyes I see
Is all I ever wanted
And something in your smile for me
Is calling out my name
Your eyes, it seems
Are mirrors of my dreams
In ways I cant explain.
And my heart will never be the same
Something in your eyes I see
Is all Ive ever wanted
And something in your smile for me
Is calling out my name
Your eyes, it seems
Are mirrors of my dreams
In ways I cant explain.
And my heart will never be the same
And my heart will never be the same
Something in your eyes
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Collide
I felt my heart collapse
On the day that I met him
I felt my heart collapse
It filled up to the rim
I felt my heart collapse
When my eyes traveled 'round
I felt my heart collapse
The one I had found
I felt my heart collapse
When he first touched my skin
I felt my heart collapse
Oh it seemed a lovely sin
I felt my heart collapse
It fell without a sound
I felt my heart collapse
Oh I knew I had found
I felt my heart collapse
When we shared that first kiss
I felt my heart collapse
I thought that I would almost miss
I felt my heart collapse
I was lost in his embrace
I felt my heart collapse
I kept staring at his face
Oh my heart collapsed on that day
Ever since it's been that same way
My love for you has not faded
Ever since the day it escaped
poem by Courtney Beaudry
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Memory
Brightly the sun of summer shone,
Green fields and waving woods upon,
And soft winds wandered by;
Above, a sky of purest blue,
Around, bright flowers of loveliest hue,
Allured the gazer's eye.
But what were all these charms to me,
When one sweet breath of memory
Came gently wafting by?
I closed my eyes against the day,
And called my willing soul away,
From earth, and air, and sky;
That I might simply fancy there
One little flower - a primrose fair,
Just opening into sight;
As in the days of infancy,
An opening primrose seemed to me
A source of strange delight.
Sweet Memory! ever smile on me;
Nature's chief beauties spring from thee,
Oh, still thy tribute bring!
Still make the golden crocus shine
Among the flowers the most divine,
The glory of the spring.
Still in the wall-flower's fragrance dwell;
And hover round the slight blue bell,
My childhood's darling flower.
Smile on the little daisy still,
The buttercup's bright goblet fill
With all thy former power.
For ever hang thy dreamy spell
Round mountain star and heather bell,
And do not pass away
From sparkling frost, or wreathed snow,
And whisper when the wild winds blow,
Or rippling waters play.
Is childhood, then, so all divine?
Or Memory, is the glory thine,
That haloes thus the past?
Not all divine; its pangs of grief,
(Although, perchance, their stay be brief,)
Are bitter while they last.
Nor is the glory all thine own,
For on our earliest joys alone
That holy light is cast.
With such a ray, no spell of thine
Can make our later pleasures shine,
Though long ago they passed.
poem by Anne Brontë from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Heart...oh...Heart
My heart will sing if i'hear your happy voice*
My heart will smile if i'saw your shadow in my dreams*
My heart will sweet if i'feel your sweet kiss*
My heart will flowery if you always stand for me*
My heart will yearn if you lost from my mind*
My heart will cry if you received the sadness*
My heart will painful if you received the pain wound*
My heart will empty felt if you hided behind in the other heart*
Heart..oh heart*
Why must you feel all of all pain and the wound because of the love*
Heart...oh heart*
Maybe i'cannot to cry*
Heart...oh heart*
There was nobody see my heart wound**
I Shall Not Forget
I shall not forget you. The years may be tender,
But vain are their efforts to soften my smart;
And the strong hands of Time are too feeble and slender
To garland the grave that is made in my heart.
Your image is ever about me, before me,
Your voice floats abroad on the voice of the wind;
And the spell of your presence, in absence, is o'er me,
And the dead of the past, in the present I find.
I cannot forget you. The one boon ungiven,
The boon of your love, is the cross that I bear.
In the midnight of sorrow I vainly have striven
To crush in my heart the sweet image hid there;
To banish the beautiful dreams that are thronging
The halls of my memory, dreams worse than vain;
For the one drop withheld, I am thirsting and longing,
For the one joy denied, I am weeping in pain.
I would not forget you. I live to remember
The beautiful hopes that bloomed but to decay,
And brighter than June glows the bleakest December,
When peopled with ghosts of the dreams passed away.
Once loving you truly, I love you forever;
I mourn not in weak, idle grief for the past;
But the love in my bosom can never, oh never
Pass out, or another pass in, first or last.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Broken Branches
Broken Branches
Date: January 24,2011
I've tasted sweet o'hungry lips
And felt thy warm embrace
Though now blinded from my sight
In dreams I know thy grace
Whilst nevermore shall honey sweet
Melt soft against my tongue
It's locked away in melodies
Of all the songs we've sung
So, if I'm cursed to see no more
Beyond these clouds of pain
I'll stand and face the bitter force
And languish in the rain
As bending heart and broken branch
Trap grief beneath my breast
For deep inside the cardinals cage
The passion's laid to rest
But, never was a song as sweet
Nor shined on me as bright
As all the windswept lullabies
That whispered in the night
I close my eyes, to feel again
The fire upon my lips
And in the magic of the flight
I still can taste your kiss
So, I'll not weep for all that's lost
Or hope to find once more
The passion of our yesteryears
Was swept beyond my shore
Life will bring another day
The sun will rise again
And I'll not mend my broken dreams
By searching in the sand
I've tasted sweet o'hungry lips
My soul still wears the stain
In silence I will walk in strife
Until the heartache wanes
************************************ *********
Copyright © 201 Leria Hawkins, All Rights Reserved
poem by Leria Hawkins
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Song. While many a fond
WHILE many a fond and blooming maid
Attempts thy heart to gain;
And, by thy fatal smile betrayed,
Thinks not she strives in vain:
While in those eyes of tender blue
They answering passion see,
And in thy sweet expression view
The charm that conquered me:....
I still should scorn their winning art,
And be, my Henry, blest,
If thou wouldst give that precious heart
To her who loves thee best.
poem by Amelia Opie
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While many a fond and blooming maid
WHILE many a fond and blooming maid
Attempts thy heart to gain;
And, by thy fatal smile betrayed,
Thinks not she strives in vain:
While in those eyes of tender blue
They answering passion see,
And in thy sweet expression view
The charm that conquered me:....
I still should scorn their winning art,
And be, my Henry, blest,
If thou wouldst give that precious heart
To her who loves thee best.
poem by Amelia Opie
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College love encounter
If you are who I think you are, your face, your name
I may be lost, not knowing, not to be who I am
Such a swift unexpected encounter to bare in my face
It brings all past passions confusions back to surface
Well at first sight I wonder how life have been with you
Are you happy? that I should thus be happy too
For still my heart regards your weal
Warmly, as it was wont to do, as always was thus its will
I am unconsciously courteous unable to suppress my brimming sighs
The piercing melting power of your eyes
A vision I always longed and dread to see
It now brings the old havoc and tremble all over me
Oh dear; let it be short, adieu I must away
While you are blest I will not repine
For near you, I still can never Longley stay
My heart would soon again crave to make you mine
For years I wondered whether time or pride
Had quenched at length the youths flame
Nor knew till this hasty random meeting on street side
My heart in all save hope and expectations the same
Yet I am calm in this ghastly encounter, I knew the time
My chest would thrill and rebel against your look
Well, well by chance we meet and not a nerve is shook
As thus love of youth frozen encapsulated in its prime
I notice the gaze upon your face
yet we meet with no confusion there
One only feeling could you trace
the sullen calmness of despair
Away, away I brush my early dream
remembrance, reminiscence sleep again never awake
Oh I bagged life not to be derailed but back to its daily routine stream
Oh foolish heart be still, stop torturing my soul, if you rebel you again break
Thus lady of past early youth love
I must view your charms no more
For as long as this encounter lingers as the heaven above
I sigh for all I felt and experience before
In short I shall be surely wise
To escape from temptation snare
Your beauty and charm with years of patina is my paradise
I cannot view you, without the wish of re dwelling there
As Adam was expelled from Eden bowers
A moment I lingered near college paradise gate
Recalling the scenes of happy vanished lost hours
And bade myself to curse my future fate
But wondering through life long years
I learnt to bare my load of grief
Just gave a sigh to my vain pangs and tears
And found to me remedy, recovery relief
Copy rights 2010
All rights reserved.
A Picture
'
The maiden is not dead, but sleepeth.
'
She is not gone;—still in our sight
That dearest maid shall live,
In form as true, in tints as bright,
As youth and health could give.
Still, still is ours the modest eye;
The smile unwrought by art;
The glance that shot so piercingly
Affection's keenest dart;
The thrilling voice, I ne'er could hear
But felt a joy and pain;—
A pride that she was ours, a fear
Ours she might not remain;
Whether the page divine call'd forth
Its clear sweet, tranquil tone,
Or cheerful hymn, or seemly mirth
In sprightlier measure shown;
The meek inquiry of that face,
Musing on wonders found,
As 'mid dim paths she sought to trace
The truth on sacred ground;
The thankful sigh that would arise,
When aught her doubts removed,
Full sure the explaining voice to prize,
Admiring while she loved;
The pensive brow, the world might see
When she in crowds was found;
The burst of heart, the o'erflowing glee
When only friends were round;
Hope's warmth of promise, prompt to fill
The thoughts with good in store,
Match'd with content's deep stream, which still
Flow'd on, when hope was o'er;
That peace, which, with its own bright day,
Made cheapest sights shine fair;
That purest grace, which track'd its way
Safe from aught earthly there.
Such was she in the sudden hour
That brought her Maker's call,—
Proving her heart's self-mastering power
Blithely to part with all,—
All her eye loved, all her hand press'd
With keen affection's glow,
The voice of home, all pleasures best,
All dearest thoughts below.
From friend-lit hearth, from social board,
All duteously she rose;
For faith upon the Master's word
Can find a sure repose.
And in her wonder up she sped,
And tried relief in vain;
Then laid her down upon her bed
Of languor and of pain,—
And waited till the solemn spell,
(A ling'ring night and day,)
Should fill its numbers, and compel
Her soul to come away.
Such was she then; and such she is,
Shrined in each mourner's breast;
Such shall she be, and more than this,
In promised glory blest;
When in due lines her Saviour dear
His scatter'd saints shall range,
And knit in love souls parted here,
Where cloud is none, nor change.
poem by John Henry Newman
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Translated from Geibel
O say, thou wild, thou oft deceived heart,
What mean these noisy throbbings in my breast?
After thy long, unutterable woe
Wouldst thou not rest?
Fall'n from Life's tree the sweet rose-blossom lies,
And fragrant youth has fled. What made to seem
This earth as fair to thee as Paradise,
Was all a dream.
The blossom fell, the thorn was left to me;
Deep from the wound the blood-drops ever flow,
All that I have are yearnings, wild desires,
And wrath and woe.
They brought me Lethe's water, saying, 'Drink!'
'Drink, for the draught is sweet,' I heard them say,
'Shalt learn how soft a thing forgetting is.'
I answered : 'Nay.'
What tho' indeed it were an idle cheat,
Nathless to me 'twas very fair and blest:
With every breath I draw I know that love
Reigns in my breast.
Let me go forth,--and thou, my heart, bleed on:
A lonely spot I seek by night and day,
That love and sorrow I may there breathe forth
In a last lay.
The First Approach Of The Sweet Spring
The first approach of the sweet spring
Returning here once more,--
The memory of the love that holds
In my fond heart such power,--
The thrush again his song assaying,--
The little rills o'er pebbles playing,
And sparkling as they fall,--
The memory recall
Of her on whom my heart's desire
Is, shall be, fixed till I expire.
With every season fresh and new
That love is more inspiring:
Her eyes, her face, all bright with joy,--
Her coming, her retiring,
Her faithful words, her winning ways,--
That sweet look, kindling up the blaze,
Of love, so gently still,
To wound, but not to kill,--
So that when most I weep and sigh,
So much the higher springs my joy.
poem by Le Châtelain de Coucy
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On fairy lit night
On fairy lit night
When the snow shone so bright
And I held you so tight
I felt my love shine through you...
I felt the melting
Of every storm cloud blowing
Away under a summer breeze...
Like a broken healing shard
I felt my love shining in the moonlight
Blooming like a forest orchid
Rocking like a child in his crib
On a fairy lit night
When the snow shone so bright
And I held you so tight
I felt my love shine through you
As we rolled like a snowball
Jointly surrendering to the morning dew
Oh I felt the melting
Of two tear drops melting in mine
And your deep dark warm sparkling eyes...
I felt the gravity as we rolled
In that white midnights snow
To a poets corner only we'll both know.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh roll with me
Like an Egyptian rug under the night
Of a burning sun
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh roll with me
Like a glacier river into a red tropic sun
Where the thunder in our hearts
Has, only just begun to burn and play
Out it's magic song before our eyes.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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Mine Forever
Body and mind, trapped in a cage,
Heart and soul, filled with rage,
Losing control,
Breaking down,
Giving up,
Eyes blinded,
Filled with tears,
Loss of sight,
My heart slashed open,
With an axe,
Broken,
Bleeding through the cracks,
Feelings flying on a kite,
String cut, lost in flight,
But just as I was about to give in,
An angle showed me the light,
A girl That I dream of at night,
She breathed, breath, back into my body,
Made my heart beat once again,
Warmth filled every vein,
Felt like dancing in the rain,
Her beauty could not compare,
She loves me, and I'm aware,
I love her, and she knows I care,
Her soft sweet voice gives me butterflies,
Between me and her, there are no lies,
Her cute little smile makes my day,
When I look into her beautiful eyes,
I just don't know what to say,
She will always be
My baby,
My sweet heart,
My cuddle buddy,
My cutie pie,
My one,
My only,
My guardian,
My angle,
Through thick and thin,
Good and bad,
I'll never let go,
I'll never leave,
No matter what,
Forever and ever,
She'll always be mine,
Forever and always.
poem by Jacob Gifford
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You're Smile
You're smile is my sun,
you're arms my clouds,
you're touch a breeze,
that's only over me.
what I never told you,
and probably never will,
is truth at heart,
that I still plan to do.
you're the muse of my dreams,
in them every night,
the kind I wish,
I'd never wake from.
when we're apart,
I can honestly say,
I can hear you're voice,
calling my name.
those sweet loving eyes,
looking at me,
is enough to make me,
melt with a long sigh.
then don't get me started,
on the laughs we shared,
they were worth evey second,
that I just stood and stared.
you know that moment,
where everything seems right,
that's how I feel for you,
at every sight.
just turning around,
to see you're face,
fills me with enough joy,
to last a few years.
there's one song,
that makes me think,
only of you and,
all you do.
half of the time,
when we talk,
I tent to,
get lost in those eyes.
they sparkle like stars,
as I look up to meet them,
now when I see stars,
I see those eyes.
some think it's cute,
that I feel the way I do,
if it's true,
I only want to hear it from you.
I'm your kitty kat,
and I hope to always be,
your the beat of my drum,
never forget that.
poem by Katherine Bryce
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