To His Excellency The Lord Carteret.
The Picture strikes--'tis drawn with won d'rous Art;
Well has the Poet play'd the Painter's Part.
Tho' 'tis your Glory, yet, my Lord, I own,
I grieve the Features fit yourself alone.
But know, tho' All agree the Picture's yours,
'Tis Steadiness alone your Claim secures.
With Pleasure now your Image you furvey;
But should you from the Rules of Virtue stray,
Should e'er degrading Vice deform your Frame,
You'd start, like Io from the crystal Stream.
When Kneller has display'd, with matchless Grace,
The fleeting Glories of Clarinda's Face;
She sighs, to think how Time will soon devour
The lovely Bloom, which gives her now such Pow'r:
But yours, a Likeness of a nobler Kind,
Displays the deathless Beauties of the Mind:
Be it your Glory to surpass the Paint,
And make the finish'd Picture look too faint.
Why is he hid, who, with such matchloss Art,
Calls forth the Graces that adorn your Heart?
True Poets in their deathless Lays should live,
And share that Immortality they give.
poem by Mary Barber
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Related quotes
To finish a work? To finish a picture? What nonsense! To finish it means to be through with it, to kill it, to rid it of its soul, to give it its final blow the coup de grace for the painter as well as for the picture.
quote by Pablo Picasso
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Empty Picture Frame
An empty picture frame sits upon my desk
Where once upon a time a picture in it did rest
But now the frame stands lifeless and bare
Now it reminds me of a love that once was there.
As in the past the picture brought me happiness and joy
Gave me the reason to live and to write my story
To glance upon and dream of when no one was near
To speak the words of love when them she couldn't hear.
But when she left me I threw her picture away
But I kept that frame to remind me of that day
In remembrance of what she did in and out of my sight
As she was my candle but she blew out that light
So that picture frame I keep it in my plain view
So every time I see it I know what to say and what to do
As once upon a time her picture was in the frame
But now picture is gone but the memories still remain.
poem by Randy McClave
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You Only Paint The Picture Once
(Teddy Gentry/Randy Owen/Ronnie Rogers/Greg Fowler)
Look at those evening shadows
Casting a peaceful light
The sun is disappearing
It's a beautiful sight
Moments caught forever
By the master's touch
A lasting reminder
To us
You only paint the picture once
(And) you only get one chance
Take the time to do your best
While the brush is in your hand
Make sure it's just right
Before the colors dry
You can't change it once it's done
You only paint the picture once
Love is the canvas
That's where it all starts
A lifetime together
Becomes a work of art
Just look what's been created
Between your heart and mine
Oh I believe that we're one of a kind
You only paint the picture once
(And) you only get one chance
Take the time to do your best
While the brush is in your hand
Make sure it's just right
Before the colors dry
You can't change it once it's done
You only paint the picture once
It's a portrait of life
You can't live it twice
You only paint the picture once
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Picture Picture by Tanya Markova
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Nang gabing masilayan ka...
Dala-dala ko pa
Ang aking lumang camera
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Campus gig noon at nag-aya ang tropa
Maraming bebot ang nagsasayaw
Nang biglang mapansin kita
What a beautiful face
At kinunan kita
What a beautiful face
Angat ka sa iba
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face
I saw her face
Mukha syang taga-a a outerspace
Si Mang Roger ako'y kinalabit
Ang sabi
Halika na balot muna
Bago ka mag-konica
Na seramika gawa sa pabrika
Lagot ka na ang kamera may mahika
Ano ang lohika kung bat nahilo ka
Mekaniko si Moniko ng makina ni Monika
What a beautiful face
Bigla kang nawala
What a beautiful face
Ako'y natulala
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Meron syang look alike na
Mekaniko si Moniko ng makina ni Monika
What a beautiful face
O nasaan ka na
What a beautiful face
Hinahanap-hanap ka
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
Picture picture ohh...
Picture picture
What a beautiful
What a beautiful face...
poem by Shi Yelami
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After our Likeness.
Before me now a little picture lies—
A little shadow of a childish face,
Childishly sweet, yet with the dawning grace
Of thought and wisdom on her lips and eyes.
Fair, oval, broad-brow'd face—small, delicate head—
Transparent skin, with blue veins shining through—
All the soft outlines, beautiful and true,
Bring me the echo of the words “God said.”
Made “in our image”—sure 'tis that we see,
God's likeness, in the fair face of a child,
By the world's sin and passion undefiled—
Ay, as I look, it seems quite plain to me.
The light wherein the little features shine,
Strange, mystic light, so undefined and faint,
So far too pure for any words to paint—
'Tis a reflection of the Face divine.
Some day the earthly shadows will be cast
Across that sunshine—it may be to dim
A while the visible countenance of Him;
But 'twill be there—the likeness—to the last.
Some day the lucid waters, in which lie
Pictured those glorious lineaments, will be
Stirred up and troubled like a stormy sea;—
But they will yet re-settle—by-and-by.
They will re-settle when the soul is still'd,
Its passions, its wild longings, and its pain;
The pure reflection will shine out again
When earth's hopes are relinquish'd, unfulfill'd.
They will re-settle in those after-years
When life's hard lessons have been conned and learn'd;
Then this child's beauty will have all return'd,
More lovely for the trouble and the tears.
They will re-settle in the calm of death,
When the sweet eyes are laid asleep, and when
The heart is hush'd. Truly God's likeness then—
The mirror clear, unsullied by a breath.
Ah! while I look, and trace each tender line,
I think most of the day when I shall see
The dear face in that perfect purity,
Its mortal features clothed with the divine.
This self-same face, but with the image bright,
Nevermore undefined, and faint, and dim;
This self-same face, yet like the face of Him,
In glory and in beauty infinite.
poem by Ada Cambridge
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Life Is Like A Painting
Life is like a painter
Who paints a beautiful picture
Of a mother who showers her baby
Colors of water steadily
Flowing onto the child’s body
With his eyes wide open
Looking so vibrant
And hoping
He would not be drowned
By his mother
Only the painter
Could change all the factors
The mother let loose
And the baby goes dozing
Articulation of living perfectly
Events were created chromatically
Surpassing all anticipations
Exceeding all expectations
Blanketing all cloudy minds
To live with honor
Or to live with disgrace
In a life out of place
Exaggeration could be the word
But, as a painter
We paint our picture
The picture is premature
Success, failure and glory
Could be your history
Don’t call it quit
When you have succeeded
Look at the painting
The stroke of living
Is in your hands
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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Glory Box
Glory Box
I'm so tired of playing,
Playing with this bow and arrow,
Gonna give my heart away,
Leave it to the other girls to play.
For I've been a tempteress too long,
CHORUS:
Oh yeah,
Give me a reason to love you,
Give me a reason to be a women,
I just want to be a woman
From this time unchained,
Were all looking at a different picture,
Through this new frame of mind,
A thousand flowers could bloom,
Move over and give us some room
CHORUS
So don't you stop being a man,
Just take a little look from outside when you can,
Sow a little a tenderness,
No matter if you cry
CHORUS
{Its all I want to be, a woman},
So I just want to be a woman,
For this is the beginning of forever and ever,
Its time to move over now,
{So I want to be}
Back to start again and fades
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Could You Picture Life?
Could you picture life?
Could you picture life?
Misty morning with birds singing melodies,
Could you picture life in the clouds,
The Morning star,
The comets,
The ufos,
The foolishness in racism,
Could you see CNN,
The crimes and the bursting that we play everyday,
The religious crimes,
Could you picture the negation in man?
That we die everyday is sin,
Could you picture?
Love is worth the New World Understanding,
Picture my eyes and see that we all be crying,
My brothers and sisters are dyeing and suffocating,
Picture the New World,
Where the True Understanding will dwell in our heart,
Could you picture?
You and I are no different,
We same creatures that creep for Bread,
Could you picture?
No man better than other,
Could you picture?
The credibility of Human Trust.
poem by Maxpoet Beauty
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Her Image
He stared at her picture everyday.
It was something he would always do.
It helped him to remember her lovely face
and helped him make it through
lonely nights without her
and hours that kept him blue.
He saw her image and he remembered
when the picture was taken.
They were so in love. Then she fell ill
and now his heart was achin'.
He kissed her image
and whispered goodnight.
He'd been forsaken.
Her picture was now his prize posession
for it's all he had of her.
Gone was her touch. Gone was her hair,
the strands of it still in his sight.
Gone was the sound of her voice
that always whispered in the night
'I love you.'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Picture Of A Little Boy
I have a lovely picture
Set in a golden frame;
A picture of a little boy,
I do not know his name.
He's sitting by a waggon,
Upon an old car-tyre;
To know just what he's thinking
Would be my heart's desire.
He seems so small and helpless,
And troubled in his mind;
But one, more cute than he,
I doubt that you could ever find.
His hair is blonde and beautiful,
His eyes the deepest blue;
He sits there like 'The thinker'
Debating what to do.
I love this little picture
That's hanging on my wall;
This picture of a little boy
So young and very small;
He looks a perfect mixture
Of two boys that I once knew;
Just sitting in time's window,
And I am looking through.
Written Oct 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
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ODE TO A PiCtUrE
ODE To A PiCtUrE
Flash-
A Picture
One dimensional in size
Captures an
Image
A moment
in
Time-
A Picture
Works a
Miracle
And makes
Time-
Stand still-
Time-
Moves
As quickly as the
Wind
Is blocked
And made
Frozen
Constant
And
Still-
For One to
Admire a moment,
An Image which
Appears in Different
Shades of
Light…
A Picture
Brings back an
Emotion which
Pumps right through
The Heart-
A sensitive
Delicacy –
Often uncontrolled
And driven on its own
Can be ruled
And triggered
By a Flash-
A speck
Of
Light
With shattering
Colors-
Red,
Blue
And
Green…
A Picture
Not to be measured
In Space but more so
In Time
As it
Sits
Still-
Captured
In
An
Instant
Each
Image
Is
Traced
And
Held
Together
With
Shinny
Little
Sentiments…
Composed
As
Each
Expression
Is made
Visible
At the Palm
Of
One’s
Hand
Held-
Constant
Age less
Memories
Flow
Through
And
Begin to
Sing-
Of
What
Was-
Flash-
A Picture-
Whether it be
Darkness
Or
Lightness
Detections of different states of mind are seen
Emotional sensation in every bodily part
Tell truths of what has been-
A picture
Is cherished
And
Passed down the line-
To take part in the Memories
Once
Lived-
poem by Yvette Nario
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Take Another Picture
written by Marv Ross
Saw my father living in a picture
Squinting in the Michigan sun
Caught forever in his blouse and knickers
Wasn't he the lucky one?
While the fear is growing stronger
The sun is almost gone
So hold me in your naked eye
And shoot me on the run
Oh, won't you please, please
Take another picture
Please, please freeze my features
Oh, won't you please, please
Take another
I don't wanna fade away
I saw a picture hidden in the bedroom
Underneath father's ties
A beautiful woman caught naked forever
Black strip over her eyes
I still remember that picture
The image sits sharp and clear
And I'll never erase that eyeless face
Still smiling all these years
Oh, won't you please, please
Take another picture
Please, please freeze my features
Oh, won't you please, please
Take another
I don't wanna fade away
song performed by by Quarterflash
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Painter In You!
who has painted your picture in my thoughts,
without a brush, the paints and the pallet,
not even sketched using a pencil and a knife,
the picture is perfect with the colors mixed,
your smiling is great with a thin line at the edges,
your eyes are wide open, sprinkling the cheerful messages,
every time the happy visuals of you pop out in the mind,
I couldn't have drawn such a beautiful portrait,
of you in my heart, who has done this painting?
You are the one who posed and painted on your own,
you are a great painter who can paint your pictures,
on everyone's heart whom you know, love and respect.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Chloris Appearing In A Looking Glass
Oft have I seen a Piece of Art,
Of Light and Shade, the Mixture fine,
Speak all the Passions of the Heart,
And shew true Life in every Line.
But what is this before my Eyes,
With every Feature, every Grace,
That strikes with Love and with Surprize,
And gives me all the Vital Face.
It is not Chloris, for behold
The shifting Phantom comes and goes;
And when 'tis here 'tis pale and cold,
Nor any Female Softness knows.
But 'tis her Image, for I feel
The very Pains that Chloris gives;
Her Charms are there, I know 'em well,
I see what in my Bosom lives.
Oh cou'd I but the Picture save!
'Tis drawn by her own matchless Skill;
Nature the lively Colours gave,
And she need only Look to Kill.
Ah! Fair-one, will it not suffice,
That I shou'd once, your Victim lye;
Unless you multiply your Eyes,
And strive to make me doubly Dye.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Picture Frames
Picture frames that enclose the art
make the art stand out.
If the frame is not just right
better to do without.
For the artist had in their mind
what the frame should be.
But the framer who made the frame
did not know what the art would be.
So acquiring the knack of pairing them
is a talent all its own.
The picture itself cannot speak out
but it has always known
what its frame should be.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Creation Hath Worked Its Mastery
Creation hath worked its mastery
Into the existence we know as our own.
We are as the statue of David if he were
To claim his existence free from Michelangelo’s hand,
We are a work of perfection that has the ability to deny
Our creator, nature hath a power to paint a picture,
A picture born with the ability to deny its painter
Any right to claim its existence lay within the imagination
Of the artist.
True art takes upon a life of its own,
Its home within the heart of the observer,
Those un-reserved enough to allow the
Canvas marble to speak unto their Hearts.
poem by David Lacey
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Siberian Tiger
Nicole, when you were still with me,
I did a picture of a Siberian tiger,
Underneath the picture,
I put your name.
The picture now reminds me of you.
Every time I look at that picture,
I start to cry over you,
I miss you.
I still wonder why stuff went wrong,
What I did to cause it.
You should be here,
But you’re not.
I blame myself for all kinds of things,
Not eating like I should have,
Sleeping too little,
Not listening.
In my heart is the picture I made,
See the white tiger,
So young, pure
It’s you.
My little tiger cub in heaven with God,
Angels are watching over you,
Someday I’ll be with you,
I promise, baby.
Love ya,
Mama
poem by Vanessa Kurtz
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And Once You Will Learn..
As I mix a hundred colours to paint your picture,
My canvas shrinks in size
And cries it foul.
There you stand with a smile mysterious.
As I hold a brush with a thousand quills on it,
My right hand shivers
And calls it uncommon.
Someone stands by you a with a frown.
You think I wouldn’t draw your picture at all.
You feel it’s my indifference
And colossal lack of concern.
Your mind turns into an ocean of skepticism.
Still on my large frame of mind
Your portrait hangs for ever
And there I see your smiling face.
My love has ever been thus…
Once when you begin to learn things,
My canvas and right hand will wither away.
Then your portrait drawn in a thousand colours
Will be your last concern perhaps.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Sonnet 47: Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took
Betwixt mine eye and heart a league is took,
And each doth good turns now unto the other,
When that mine eye is famished for a look,
Or heart in love with sighs himself doth smother,
With my love's picture then my eye doth feast
And to the painted banquet bids my heart;
Another time mine eye is my heart's guest,
And in his thoughts of love doth share a part.
So, either by thy picture or my love,
Thyself, away, art present still with me;
For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move,
And I am still with them, and they with thee;
Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight
Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Seeing it through
Seeing it through
~
I have no intention of leaving
I'll see this thing through
no matter what I have to give
I see the final picture
and hold it in my thoughts
I know patience virtue
and will face sleepless nights
where the worries of the day
play on in my mind
I can take those hits
and stay firm in my stance
I’m seeing this thing through
whatever it takes
whatever you ask of me
I know what I'm fighting for
what I'm working towards
and that idea, that picture
keeps me going
poem by Matthew Holloway
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