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DAY gradual fades, in evening gray,
Its last faint beam hath fled,
And sinks the sun's declining ray
In ocean's wavy bed.
So o'er the loves and joys of youth
Thy waves, Indifference, roll;
So mantles round our days of truth
That death-pool of the soul.
Spreads o'er the heavens the shadowy night
Her dim and shapeless form,
So human pleasures, frail and light,
Are lost in passion's storm.
So fades the sunshine of the breast,
So passion's dreamings fall,
So friendship's fervours sink to rest,
Oblivion shrouds them all.
poem by Joseph Rodman Drake
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Related quotes
Trauma Of Time
Time Fades The Smile, Not The Pain.
Time Drains The Water Not The Damage From The Rain.
Time Fades The Tomorrow Not The Yesterday.
Time Fades The Cuts But The Scars Never Go Away.
Time Fades The Sweetness Not All The Things Sour.
Time Fades Those Few Precious Moments But Not The Crippling Hour.
Time Fades The Sun, Not It’s Brutal Remains.
Time Fades The Photographs Not There Stains.
Time Fades The Lessons Not All The Things That I’ve Learned.
Time Puts Out The Fire But Not The Days I Burned.
Time Fades The Colors Not The Glaring White.
Time Fades The Bruises Not The Darkness In The Night.
Time Fades The Happiness Not The Tears.
Time Fades The Triumphs Not The Fears.
Time Fades The Storm Not The Ocean.
Time Fades The Memories Not The Emotion.
Time Fades The Dreams Not The Nightmare.
Time Fades The Hand Not The Times You Weren’t There.
Time Fades The Beauty Not The Gloom.
Time Fades The Doors And Windows Not The Empty Room.
Time Fades The Love Not The Empty Lie.
Time Fades The Hello But Never The Goodbye.
poem by Bridgid Patrick
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The Death of Virtuous
Sweet is the scene when Virtue dies!—
When sinks a righteous soul to rest,
How mildly beam the closing eyes,
How gently heaves the' expiring breast!
So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.
Triumphant smiles the victor brow,
Fanned by some angel's purple wing;—
Where is, O Grave! thy victory now?
And where, insidious Death! thy sting?
Farewell, conflicting joys and fears,
Where light and shade alternate dwell;
How bright the' unchanging morn appears!
Farewell, inconstant world, Farewell!
Its duty done,—as sinks the clay,
Light from its load the spirit flies;
While heaven and earth combine to say,
“Sweet is the scene when Virtue dies!”
poem by Anna Laetitia Barbauld
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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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How Blest the Righteous When He Dies!
How blest the righteous when he dies!
When sinks a weary soul to rest
How mildly beam the closing eyes!
How gently heaves the expiring breast!
So fades a summer cloud away;
So sinks the gale when storms are o'er;
So gently shuts the eye of day;
So dies a wave along the shore.
A holy quiet reigns around,
A calm which life nor death destroys;
Nothing disturbs that peace profound,
Which his unfettered soul enjoys.
Farewell, conflicting hopes and fears,
Where lights and shades alternate dwell!
How bright the unchanging morn appears!
Farewell, inconstant world, farewell!
Life's labour done, as sinks the clay,
Light from its load the spirit flies;
While heaven and earth combine to say,
How blest the righteous when he dies!
poem by Anna Laetitia Barbauld
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Farewell To Miss E. B.
(Written in her sixteenth year.)
Farewell, and whenever calm solitude's hour,
Shall silently spread its broad wings o'er your bower,
Oh! then gaze on yon planet, yon watch-fire divine,
And believe that my soul is there mingling with thine.
When the dark brow of evening is beaming with stars,
And yon crest of light clouds is the turban she wears,
When she walks forth in grandeur, the queen of the night,
Oh! then think that my spirit looks on with delight.
O'er the ocean of life our frail vessels are bounding,
And danger and death our dark pathway surrounding;
Destruction's bright meteors are dancing before,
And behind us the winds of adversity roar.
Oh! then come, let us light friendship's lamp on the wave,
If we're lost, it will shed its pure light o'er the grave,
Or 't will guide to the haven of Heaven at last,
And beam on when the voice of the trumpet hath past.
poem by Lucretia Maria Davidson
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Hope Fades Away
When There's no Falling Far From Grace,
and All Your Hope Fades.
It's a Dreary Face,
When Nothing Seems to fall in Place.
When all Hope Fades,
Nothing Seems to Make Much Sense.
When all Hope Fades,
Life is but a Loveless Trance.
When all Hope Fades,
Heroes Fall to Hells Great Weight.
When all Hope Fades,
Demons Claw out of Massive Flames.
When Hope Fades Away.
poem by Nathan Kraft
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Where Is My Passion
Where is my passion
Far too much pain
Where is my passion
Must I love in vain?
Where is my passion
I need must know
Where is my passion
I want so much to grow
Where is my passion
Lost in your lips
Where is my passion
I feel for your kiss
Where is my passion
Lost in your eyes
Where is my passion
Release me to fly
Where is my passion
There in your hands
Where is my passion
Touch me…expand
Where is my passion
Please…be a man
poem by Fleurette Elaine Harris
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Ocean
Here comes the ocean
And the waves down by the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves where have they been
Silver and black lit night, heres to a stealers night
An empty splendid castle
Glowering alone at night, the princess has had a fight
Madness seeks out a lover
And here come the waves
Down by the shore
Washing the soul of the body
That comes form the depth of the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves down by the sea
Here comes the ocean
And the waves where have they been
Dont swim tonight my love, the tide is out my love
Malcolms curse haunts our family
Odious loud and rich, ruler of filthy seas
Revel in heavens justice
And here come the waves
And save for a scream
Theres much like a song to be heard
In the wind that blows by the sea
Like the wind
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
Here come the waves
song performed by by Velvet Underground
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passion Of Tomorrow
PASSION OF TOMORROW
The passion of tomorrow
The lost passion for a stranger
The new passion of all days
The passion of tomorrow
Won’t be the only sorrow
Kissing you makes me feel dizzy
Wondering why are you still busy
Let go of yourself surrender
Open up to the sweet offender
The passion of today
Won’t let it go away
Even though forbidden
Keep the entangled hidden
Wish for your embrace
I feel like being in a haze
The passion of yesterday
Belongs to other days
Walks on the shore are gone
Watching the sun go down
Flows of tears were shed
until my heart was over fed
The passion of tomorrow
I just want it to grow and grow
I get troubled by love night mares
Torn between the no or do I dare
For you I feel this nagging hunger
Striking me like hundreds of thunders
The passion of tomorrow
The lost passion for a stranger
The new passion of all days
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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March Evening
Blue through the window burns the twilight;
Heavy, through trees, blows the warm south wind.
Glistening, against the chill, gray sky light,
Wet, black branches are barred and entwined.
Sodden and spongy, the scarce-green grass plot
Dents into pools where a foot has been.
Puddles lie spilt in the road a mass, not
Of water, but steel, with its cold, hard sheen.
Faint fades the fire on the hearth, its embers
Scattering wide at a stronger gust.
Above, the old weathercock groans, but remembers
Creaking, to turn, in its centuried rust.
Dying, forlorn, in dreary sorrow,
Wrapping the mists round her withering form,
Day sinks down; and in darkness to-morrow
Travails to birth in the womb of the storm.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The things I love with a passion
I rock and roll with passion
I talk out my soul with a passion
I eat good food with passion
I defeat bad mood with a passion
I sleep well with passion
I weep hell with a passion
I dream endlessly with passion
I gleam ceaselessly with a passion
I aim for money with passion
I do the same for honey with a passion
I listen carefully with passion
I glisten dutifully with a passion
I search for fame with passion
I research to blame with a passion
I walk everyday with passion
I talk and play with a passion
I embrace life with passion
I face nightlife with a passion
I laugh out with passion
I chaffe about with a passion
I cook with others with passion
I look at mothers with a passion
I touch gently with passion
I clutch tightly with a passion
I work hard with a passion
I rock mad with a passion
I gear up goals with passion
I stir up roles with a passion
I make friends with passion
I take weekends with a passion
I love kissing with passion
I love teasing with a passion
I make love with passion
I take from above with a passion
If push comes to shove
Label me old fashioned
For these are things I caption
In life with all my passion
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Star bright.
.
Englyn Milwr
The day light hours quickly fled.
The sun sinks beneath the sea.
In the west the sky is red.
As the daylight fades away.
Indigo will flood the sky
Darkness marks the end of day.
Twilight lingers in between
It is neither night nor day
until the first star is seen
This bright star will signify.
That day is done its time to rest
Twinkling stars now rule the sky
The moonrise will light the night
The sun provides the light by day
Although her light is not as bright.
She reflects the majesty
of the ruler of the day.
Under his authority
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Friends, Passion and Friends No More
I have seen Passion Storm
and sweep away obstacles.
Did Romeo and Juliet's
passions storm;
such that only death could
their passions stay?
Witness raging desire;
hearts bursting;
love amok;
mouths rampant;
where loins ache.
I have seen these tempests blow
seating themselves
in life's centers
swirling down among
those of us who love
with every passion mote
we possess;
gladly we give it
don't we?
For to fall into passion
is to become possessed
of the sweet possession
that tingles the soul
and massages
all our secret places.
But still,
who has not seen passion too,
prove too strong for friends
who slept together for the first time
to find passion imagined
is not passion gained;
both then
sometimes lose
both passion's touch
and friendship's solace-
both equal sweet
to the tongue-
both bitter in the mouth's regrets.
Friendship goes sometimes
tamped down by passion's regrets;
trailing away in the misty past
'good friends'
making love receding.
Passion sometimes crushes
both passion and friendship
and these two hurl themselves
into the dark pit
where mistakes are kept.
Sad to have good friends
become passion's road-kill;
both lying by the side of the road;
still:
fresh quiverings,
while life's cars and trucks
lumber by
air rushing-
swooping both down
into the road side ravine,
where they lay side by side
for a road-side eternity.
Ah, sad I know.
But who will
trade passion's call
and forestall
it's sweet voice
chiming?
Next time,
we phoenix-like
grow new wings,
soar anew
which tells
us
passion is always
lifting its wings
and flying
sometimes too close
to the Sun.
But we
risk all again
don't we
for its call;
because that
is the way
we are built.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Geraldine
My head is filled with olden rhymes beside this moaning sea,
But many and many a day has gone since I was dear to thee!
I know my passion fades away, and therefore oft regret
That some who love indeed can part and in the years forget.
Ah! through the twilights when we stood the wattle trees between,
We did not dream of such a time as this, fair Geraldine.
I do not say that all has gone of passion and of pain;
I yearn for many happy thoughts I shall not think again!
And often when the wind is up, and wailing round the eaves,
You sigh for withered Purpose shred and scattered like the leaves,
The Purpose blooming when we met each other on the green;
The sunset heavy in your curls, my golden Geraldine.
I think we lived a loftier life through hours of Long Ago,
For in the largened evening earth our spirits seemed to grow.
Well, that has passed, and here I stand, upon a lonely place,
While Night is stealing round the land, like Time across my face;
But I can calmly recollect our shadowy parting scene,
And swooning thoughts that had no voice — no utterance, Geraldine.
poem by Henry Kendall
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Will You Remember Me
in me, untold
there lies, a cold
that spreads, like fire
that spreads, my soul
i feel, right now
the void, the howl
of pain, of hate
of love, i scowl
so lie, just lie
i've learned, to hide
to fear, to run
to live, to die
life fades, away
tomorrow, today
into oblivion
poem by Joe Prieto
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Plastic Passion
Plastic passion is a hard to handle
Plastic passion is a sold out scandal
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is the ladies lover
Plastic passion is the marble mother
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a diamond delight
Plastic passion is the nadir of night
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a hycoscine heart
Plastic passion is a transparent tart
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
Plastic passion is a gold guarantee
The plastic passion is murdering me
Oh it's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
It's a plastic passion
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Indian Woman's Death-Song
Non, je ne puis vivre avec un coeur brisé® Il faut que je retrouve la joie, et que je m'unisse aux esprits libres de l'air.
Bride of Messina
,
Madame De Stael
Let not my child be a girl, for very sad is the life of a woman.
The Prairie.
DOWN a broad river of the western wilds,
Piercing thick forest glooms, a light canoe
Swept with the current: fearful was the speed
Of the frail bark, as by a tempest's wing
Borne leaf-like on to where the mist of spray
Rose with the cataract's thunder. Yet within,
Proudly, and dauntlessly, and all alone,
Save that a babe lay sleeping at her breast,
A woman stood. Upon her Indian brow
Sat a strange gladness, and her dark hair wav'd
As if triumphantly. She press'd her child,
In its bright slumber, to her beating heart,
And lifted her sweet voice that rose awhile
Above the sound of waters, high and clear,
Wafting a wild proud strain, her Song of Death.
Roll swiftly to the Spirit's land, thou mighty stream and free!
Father of ancient waters, 5 roll! and bear our lives with thee!
The weary bird that storms have toss'd would seek the sunshine's calm,
And the deer that hath the arrow's hurt flies to the woods of balm.
Roll on! my warrior's eye hath look'd upon another's face,
And mine hath faded from his soul, as fades a moonbeam's trace;
My shadow comes not o'er his path, my whisper to his dream,
He flings away the broken reed roll swifter yet, thou stream!
The voice that spoke of other days is hush'd within his breast,
But mine its lonely music haunts, and will not let me rest;
It sings a low and mournful song of gladness that is gone,
I cannot live without that light. Father of waves! roll on!
Will he not miss the bounding step that met him from the chase?
The heart of love that made his home an ever sunny place?
The hand that spread the hunter's board, and deck'd his couch of yore?
He will not! roll, dark foaming stream, on to the better shore!
Some blessed fount amidst the woods of that bright land must flow,
Whose waters from my soul may lave the memory of this wo;
Some gentle wind must whisper there, whose breath may waft away
The burden of the heavy night, the sadness of the day.
And thou, my babe! tho' born, like me, for woman's weary lot,
Smile! to that wasting of the heart, my own! I leave thee not;
Too bright a thing art thou to pine in aching love away,
Thy mother bears thee far, young Fawn! from sorrow and decay.
She bears thee to the glorious bowers where none are heard to weep,
And where th' unkind one hath no power again to trouble sleep;
And where the soul shall find its youth, as wakening from a dream,
One moment, and that realm is ours. On, on, dark rolling stream!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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You Are My Lighthouse
I am lost in the storm
With nowhere to turn
Out of the corner of my sight
I see your light
Streaming through the air, burning bright
Swimming through the rolling waves I begin to fight
I follow your light above high
A laser of light across the diamond filled sky
I was lost at sea, I was going to die
You are my lighthouse
You show me the way
Your eternal light gives me the strength to live another day
You guide me to the security of the shore
Your light never fades it shines on forever more
When I am lost, I look up and thier you stand
To carry me safely to the sand
You watch over me
With your radient light I am able to see
In the strongest storm your walls will not crumble
With your light I am humble
poem by Tracy Diehl
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Autumn Twilight
The long September evening dies
In mist along the fields and lanes;
Only a few faint stars surprise
The lingering twilight as it wanes.
Night creeps across the darkening vale;
On the horizon tree by tree
Fades into shadowy skies as pale
As moonlight on a shadowy sea.
And, down the mist-enfolded lanes,
Grown pensive now with evening,
See, lingering as the twilight wanes,
Lover with lover wandering.
poem by Arthur Symons
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Into Its Velvet Claw
The natural body’s rhythm
elevates our passions to peak
far about the temples of the gods
when the blood rushes through our veins
in our search for love.
We, ourselves the epitome of perfection
when love calls out our name.
We submit to its passion
over and over again.
We stand at the wall of China
and feel no foreboding there.
Love gives us understanding,
yet makes us gullible
to the invitation of the all.
Our presence infuses
desire and passion into one,
to anoint us with oil
of love’s warming rays
giving our heated bodies
the energy to stay
within the moments of passion
whenever they come to call
and look onward into its velvet claw.
From dusk until dawn breaks
enrapturing our bodies by its call.
We are consumed by its pleasures
as we fall under its spell time and again,
as day fades for another night to begin.
17 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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