Saturday Night
Saturday night in the crowded town;
Pleasure and pain going up and down,
Murmuring low on the ear there beat
Echoes unceasing of voice and feet.
Withered age, with its load of care,
Come in this tumult of life to share,
Childhood glad in its radiance brief,
Happiest-hearted or bowed with grief,
Meet alike, as the stars look down
Week by week on the crowded town.
~And in a kingdom of mystery,
Rapt from this weariful world to see
Magic sights in the yellow glare,
Breathing delight in the gas-lit air,
Careless of sorrow, of grief or pain,
Two by two, again and again,
Strephon and Chloe together move,
Walking in Arcady, land of love.~
What are the meanings that burden all
These murmuring voices that rise and fall?
Tragedies whispered of, secrets told,
Over the baskets of bought and sold;
Joyous speech of the lately wed;
Broken lamentings that name the dead:
Endless runes of the gossip's rede,
And gathered home with the weekly need,
Kindly greetings as neighbours meet
There in the stir of the busy street.
Then is the glare of the gaslight ray
Gifted with potency strange to-day,
Records of time-written history
Flash into sight as each face goes by.
There, as the hundreds slow moving go,
Each with his burden of joy or woe,
Souls, in the meeting of stranger's eyes,
Startled this kinship to recognise, --
Meet and part, as the stars look down,
Week by week on the crowded town.
~And still, in the midst of the busy hum,
Rapt in their dream of delight they come.
Heedless of sorrow, of grief or care,
Wandering on in enchanted air,
Far from the haunting shadow of pain:
Two by two, again and again,
Strephon and Chloe together move,
Walking in Arcady, land of love.~
poem by Mary Colborne-Veel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Last Week
Oh, the new-chum went to the backblock run,
But he should have gone there last week.
He tramped ten miles with a loaded gun,
But of turkey of duck saw never a one,
For he should have been there last week,
They said,
There were flocks of 'em there last week.
He wended his way to a waterfall,
And he should have gone there last week.
He carried a camera, legs and all,
But the day was hot and the stream was small,
For he should have gone there last week,
They said,
They drowned a man there last week.
He went for a drive, and he made a start,
Which should have been made last week,
For the old horse died of a broken heart;
So he footed it home and he dragged the cart --
But the horse was all right last week,
They said,
He trotted a match last week.
So he asked all the bushies who came from afar
To visit the town last week
If the'd dine with him, and they said "Hurrah!"
But there wasn't a drop in the whisky jar --
You should have been here last week,
He said,
I drank it all up last week!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Crowded
Crowded
Spirits walking on the roofs
no fear to fall or slide
no spirit of the dead
that did ever die
it's really crowded in the sky
and crowded in the streets
spouses and sprouts in all houses
crowded in my head am I
crowded in the underground
crowded in my ears
look what i have found;
my face crowded in tears.
Madrason 21 08-2009
poem by Madrason writer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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End Of The Week
I get out of work
And then I throw away all of my cares
I get out of work
And then I wash the week out my hair
Monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday
Its hard as could be
But by old friday evening
Were free, were free, were free
End of the week
The weekend started
Been working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Youre tasting freedom
No one to push you around
End of the week
And life has a reason
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Street are alive
You know everybodys going somewhere
You put on the slide
You gotta beat the crowd just everywhere
And all the music all the dancing
Get you so high
And all that sweet romancing
Oh my, oh my, oh my
End of the week
The weekend started
Working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Feels good now
Feels good now
End of the week
End of the week
Its real good now
Real good now
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Long Way Home
Home is where true love dwells
Life giving sustenance always flows from her wells
The comfort of her arms invites and compels
Nourishing those that would only seek
Her guiding light week after week
I left the safety of my mother's home
So excited, but I had long to roam
And I look and I look
In each garden and darkened nook
I fear I am lost, no home in sight
No one will have mercy on my terrifying plight
I think I have taken the long way home.
I was his temporary toy
Being close to him; my temporary joy
Passion burnt so hot, it threatened to destroy
But I viewed his dirty bag of tricks
Appeared like a welcomed oasis
Until kindness changed to cruel faces
I have learnt to recognize those particular Places
Eagerly I seek a home, somewhere to rest my weary feet
Along the way so many like me I meet
Diligently I continue to seek
At times it all seems so very bleak
I may have taken the long way home.
Borne the fruit of mistaken love
Blessed with her, this gift from above
I have watched this beautiful seed grow
Her first steps, first speech
The first time she learnt to reach
Yet, there was no home for me there
No love would he share
But my wonderful gift I will nourish and care
My soul was in jeopardy, I fled
Looking for a home, while my heart's wound bled
I had to take the long way home.
Many Instances where I've been hurt
And with danger I occasionally flirt
I fell hard a few times and broke my Heart
Had my Soul almost torn apart
I cry and cry
So much so I thought I would die.
Time and time again the scars have healed
And my sentence repealed
Released from the jail of my self-made grief.
And I hid and fled like a thief
From searching eyes
Chains that sought to restrict my flight
Innocence lost
Stronger than I thought
I was almost caught
Yes, I have taken the long way home.
Precious and scarce is true love,
Coveted, some try to steal
Upon receipt no appeal.
They take what they can, then long gone
They move on.
I am not the same,
Learnt the rules of the game
Changed, no longer me, but she.
I keep going along life's busy street
People come and people go
Some flying high, others bowed low
My face bears the tracks of my tears
My shoulder's strength from the weight of the years
I have taken the long way home.
poem by Monciana Edmondson
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Kitchen Bitches
Round table they all meet, set up in the kitchen.
They had a book highlighted with their so call friends name,
They all did their homework report and came to tell about the information that they've gather.
Pour their tea ready to talk about anecdotes,
the conversation is backbiting about their friends life
The kitchens bitches spread intimating rumors about they friends who live way better than the kitchen bitches
They begin with 'word of the mouth is! '
They love to gossip, it is like a rush they need every week,
this meeting make them feel good about themselves and also put them in the right mood
'Gossip conference is over, so next week lets meet at a new location! '
Their small minds discuss people, but they're blind to see that they own life is more mess up than anyone on the block.
Kitchen bitches only dislike gossip is when you gossip about them.
Ever member of the kitchen bitches even talk about the misssing member when they move to a different kitchen.
poem by Brittany Wongus
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Slow Moving Sea
If you ever feel youll lose your dreams
Or your hope seems too far gone
Ill bring the distance to your door
You couldnt ask for any more
You were around when I needed a friend
You were the means you were the end
Youll be the one Ill turn to now
Theres gonna be some hard times coming down
Without you the world would be so crowded
Without you the moon would be so clouded
Without you I can be anyone
Anyone at all but myself
If ever your candle wont blow out
Or your sorrow seems so interrupted
Well Ill be the first to bring the darkness down
Ill be the silence at your side
Without you the music couldnt move me
The words would ring true
But the tune would feel so empty
Without you I can be anyone
Anyone at all but myself
But myself
Wish I was a slow moving sea
Moving away from the land so cautiously
Id find me an island to surround
Just like you did as I was feeling down
As I was feeling down
Without you the world would be so crowded
Without you the moon would be so clouded
Without you I can be anyone
Anyone at all but myself
Oh but myself
Wish I was a slow moving sea
Wish I was a slow moving sea
Love is like a slow moving sea
Keeping in touch with eternity
Wish I was a slow, slow, slow, slow moving sea
Love is like a slow moving sea
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Incident
’Twas on a sunny summer day
I trod a mighty city’s street,
And when I started on my way
My heart was full of fancies sweet;
But soon, as nothing could be seen,
But countenances sharp and keen,
Nought heard or seen around but told
Of something bought or something sold,
And none that seemed to think or care
That any save himself was there,
Full soon my heart began to sink
With a strange shame and inward pain,
For I was sad within to think
Of this absorbing love of gain,
And various thoughts my bosom tost;
When suddenly my path there crossed,
Locked hand in hand with one another,
A little maiden and her brother
A little maiden, and she wore
Around her waist a pinafore.
And hand in hand along the street
This pretty pair did softly go,
And as they went, their little feet
Moved in short even steps and slow
It was a sight to see and bless,
That little sister’s tenderness;
One hand a tidy basket bore
Of flowers and fruit a chosen store,
Such as kind friends oft send to others
And one was fastened in her brother’s.
It was a voice of meaning sweet,
And spake amid that scene of strife
Of home and homely duties meet,
And charities of daily life;
And often, should my spirit fail,
And under cold strange glances quail,
’Mid busy shops and busier throng,
That speed upon their ways along
The thick and crowded thoroughfare,
I’ll call to mind that little pair.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough (1836)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Men With Broken Hearts
You'll meet many just like me upon life's busy street
With shoulders stooped and heads bowed low and eyes that stare in defeat
Or souls that live within the past where sorrow plays all parts
Where a living death is all that's left for men with broken hearts
You have no right to be the judge to criticize and condemn
Just think but for the grace of God it would be you instead of him
One careless step a thoughtless deed and then the misery starts
And to those who weep death comes cheap these men with broken hearts
Oh so humble you should be when they come passing by
For it's written that the greatest men never get too big to cry
Some lose faith in love and life when sorrow shoots her darts
And with hope all gone they walk alone these men with broken hearts
You've never walked in that man's shoes or saw things through his eyes
Or stood and watched with helpless hands while the heart inside you dies
Some were propers some were kings and some were masters of the arts
But in their shame they're all the same these men with broken hearts
Life sometimes can be so cruel that a heart will pray for death
God why must these living dead know pain with every breath
So help your brother along the road no matter where he starts
For the God that made you made them too these men with broken hearts
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Neighbours Proclaim I Am Not A Christian
My neighbours say I am not a Christian...
because I rarely proudly go to church
weekly week by week proudly as they do.
Yet I worship God spend time with God...
every day we meet still have so much to say
while God’s poor suffer daily for them I pray.
Worship for me cannot be but once one day a week...
among those already happy proudly saved
while in the wilderness still cry our Lord's lost sheep?
Sermons for those already saved these words do not stay...
where Holy Spirit and I walk among sinners weak
my energy dissipates as I run the race to ease pain of sinners weak?
This may be all in vain I unseen do as their cry...
comes to me ever anew but with their pain I remain
for the flock has shepherds many these poor have not any?
God I miss fellowship in worship with my fellow man...
but in the pulpit I rarely stand within any given community
yet I pray for local churches who support the weak at every stand.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Two Voices
There are two voices with me in the night,
Easing my grief. The God of Israel saith,
``I am the Lord thy God which vanquisheth.
See that thou walk unswerving in my sight,
So shall thy enemies thy footstool be.
I will avenge.'' Then wake I suddenly,
And, as a man new armoured for the fight,
I shout aloud against my enemy.
Anon, another speaks, a voice of care
With sorrow laden and akin to grief,
``My son,'' it saith, ``What is my will with thee?
The burden of my sorrows thou shalt share.
With thieves thou too shalt be accounted thief,
And in my kingdom thou shalt sup with me.''
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Bacharach / David Medley
(live)
Any day now
Any day now, I will hear you say,
Goodbye my love youll be on your way
And my wild, beautiful bird,
You will have flown, yeah!
Any day now, Ill be all alone
And you wont be around
Any day now, when your restless eyes meet someone new
To my sad surprise
And the blue shadows will fall all over town,
Any day now, you wont be around
Any love will let me down
I shouldnt want to keep you if you dont want to stay
And until youre gone forever
Ill be holding on for dear life, holding on
Holding you this way
And Im begging you to stay
Any day now, when the clock strikes go, youll go away
Then my tears will fall
And the blue shadows will fall all over town, yeah!
Any day now, you wont be around,
And love will let me down
Baby its you
Its not the way you smile
That touches my heart
Its not the way you kiss
That tears me apart
(*) many, many, many nights go by
I sit alone
At home I cry
Over you
What can I do
Cant help myself
cause baby its you
You should hear what theyre saying about you
They say youve never
Never, never been true
Oh! no! no!
It doesnt matter what they say
Im gonna love you any old way
What can I do
When its true
Dont want nobody
cause baby its you
Repeat (*)
Knowing when to leave
Go while the going is good
Knowing when to leave may be
The smartest thing anyone can learn, go!
Im afraid my heart isnt very smart
Fly while your still have your wings
Knowing when to leave wont let you reach
The point of no return, fly!
Foolish as it seems
I still have my dreams
So I keep hoping, day after day
As I wait for the man
And each night after night as I wish
For the love he can be
Though Im sure that no one can tell what are
Whishes and hopefully, somehow I fell
There is happiness waiting for me
When someone walks in your life
You just better be sure hes right
cause if hes found out, heartches and tears you must pay
Keep both of your eyes on the door
Never let it get out of sight
Just be prepared when the time has come
You arent away
Sail when the wind starts to blow
Bul like a fool I dont know when to leave
Make it easy on yourself
If you really love her
And there is nothing I can do
Dont try to spair my feelings
Just tell me that we are through
And make it easy on yourself
Make it easy on yourself...
cause breaking up is so very hard to do
If the way I hold you
Cant compare to her caress
No words of consolation will make me miss you less
My darling... if this is goodbye
I just know I want to cry...
So run to her before you start crying too
And make it easy on yourself...
Make it easy on yourself...
cause breaking up is so very hard to do
And make it easy on yourself
Make it easy on yourself, easy on yourself
Cause breaking up is so very hard to do
(theres) always something
There to remind me
If you should miss
The sweet and tender love we used to share
That we used to share
Just go back to the places where we used to go
And Ill be there
Oh, how can I forget you
When there is always something there to remind me
Always something there to remind me
I was born to love you
I will never be free
Youll always be a part of me
When there is always something there to remind me
Ill never fall in love again
Dont tell me what its all about
cause Ive been there and Im glad Im out
Out of those chains, those chains that blind you
That is why Im here to remind you
Here to remind you
Here to remind you
Here to remind you
What do you get when you fall in love?
You only get lies and pain and sorrow
So for at least until tomorrow
Ill never fall in love again
Oh, Ill never fall in love again
Walk on by
If you see me walking down the street
And I start to cry each time we meet
Walk on by, walk on by
Make believe you dont see the tears
Just let me breathe in private
cause each time I see you I break down and cry
Walk on by
I just cant get over losing you
So if I should seem broken and blue
Walk on by, walk on by
Foolish pride thats all that I have left
So let me have the tears and the sadness you gave me
When you said good-bye
Walk on by, by
Do you know the way to san jose
Do you know the way to san jose?
Ive been away so long
I may go wrong and lose my way
Do you know the way to san jose?
Im going back to find some place of mind san jose
L.a. is a great big freeway
Put a $100 down and buy a car
In a week, maybe two theyll make you a star
Weeks turn into years, that quick they pass
And all the stars there never were
Are parking cars and punping gas
Ive got lots of friends in san jose
Cant wait to get back to san jose
Do you know the way to san jose?
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love, Grief, Death, Peace and Life Make War
Love, grief, death, peace, and life make war.
Within the grasps of victory, here lies grief.
Striving to keep a soul alive, thriving for life
whispers of sanity fade from the sight of death.
An outstretched limb pleading for a touch of peace
as a memory of happiness fills the heart with love.
Controlling senses fester upon a long lost love,
breathing in deep, it’s the smell of a war.
Muffled cries creep into your soul, pleading for peace.
You lick your blood stained lips, tasting the bitter grief.
piercing voices thunder upon the ground, accepting death
as a memory of loneliness fills their heart with an absence of life.
Tears of blood come forth into a dimension of twisted life.
The air, heavy and hot, hover over you ridding the land of any former love.
A chorus of saints and sinners sing to you, singing the song of death,
”O come ye child, come into my arms and rid yourself of this war.
Gather your mind and venture to the morrow, leaving behind this haunting grief,
for it is not your fault that this world does not know peace.”
You close your eyes, feeling the sensation of eternal peace.
You can not move any aching limb, within an inch of life
you follow the scent of reigning mud, caking itself to the world’s own grief.
Wandering past the forgotten lives to seek the one true love
that carries upon it’s shoulders, a burden of war.
This land can no longer hold itself with peace as all the peace has turned to death.
Forging itself upon your spirit, the lies no longer live, now it is only death
that caresses your body like a mother so tender, illuminating the one and only peace.
Taunting you to go and be afraid no more, taunting and taunting, this is war.
With one last plea, you beg and cry for the voices to take your life
as you know that the searching prisms of hope will find your love
and they will abolish the need of any misery and any grief.
Once more do the saints and sinners sing of your grief
only this time, there is no mourning of war and death.
They’ve come to pour into your heart, a sound so divine. It is love.
”Dear child, dear child, no more shall you weep, we are here, we’re your peace.
Come with us to a land so pure, where love is eternal and death is not near. We will give you life.
With a trust so deep, take our hands and no more, no more, shall this be your burden of war.”
In times of sorrow and fear, lost is the value of love and peace.
All is forgotten while caged by grief and watching the slaughter of life.
You watch your fallen brothers, reaching for help, you hear the despair in all their voices.
You’re the saint and sinner, giving them hope.
You cease your thoughts, you must fight on.
You aim your gun, praying for death. This is war.
poem by Mason Letoto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Harbour: Auf Wiedersehen
Until we meet again! That is the meaning
Of the familiar words, that men repeat
At parting in the street.
Ah yes, till then! but when death intervening
Rends us asunder, with what ceaseless pain
We wait for the Again!
The friends who leave us do not feel the sorrow
Of parting, as we feel it, who must stay
Lamenting day by day,
And knowing, when we wake upon the morrow,
We shall not find in its accustomed place
The one beloved face.
It were a double grief, if the departed,
Being released from earth, should still retain
A sense of earthly pain;
It were a double grief, if the true-hearted,
Who loved us here, should on the farther shore
Remember us no more.
Believing, in the midst of our afflictions,
That death is a beginning, not an end,
We cry to them, and send
Farewells, that better might be called predictions,
Being fore-shadowings of the future, thrown
Into the vast Unknown.
Faith overleaps the confines of our reason,
And if by faith, as in old times was said,
Women received their dead
Raised up to life, then only for a season
Our partings are, nor shall we wait in vain
Until we meet again!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Wishes For Sons
i wish them cramps.
i wish them a strange town
and the last tampon.
I wish them no 7-11.
i wish them one week early
and wearing a white skirt.
i wish them one week late.
later i wish them hot flashes
and clots like you
wouldn't believe. let the
flashes come when they
meet someone special.
let the clots come
when they want to.
let them think they have accepted
arrogance in the universe,
then bring them to gynecologists
not unlike themselves.
poem by Lucille Clifton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Getting Mighty Crowded
Im packing up my memories
And Im gonna move all out of your heart
Im turning in my keys
And Im gonna move all out of your heart
cause there aint room enough for two
In dreams that were made for me and you
Im telling you, its getting mighty crowded
Too crowded for me
Its getting mighty crowded
Im gonna take these things of mine
And Im gonna move all out of your life
Stop wasting my time
And Im gonna move all out of your life
cause there aint room enough for three
In dreams that were made for you and me
So you see, its getting mighty crowded
Too crowded for me
Its getting mighty crowded
Im saving you the trouble of putting me down
Starting on the double, yeah yeah
Im gonna shop around
Im gonna find another heart
Where I can live all by myself
Gonna find another heart
I dont have to share with anybody else
cause you dont treat me like you should
And hanging around this neighborhood is no good
Its getting mighty crowded
Too crowded for me, getting mighty crowded
Im packing up my memories, getting mighty crowded
Too crowded for me, getting mighty crowded
Too crowded for me, getting mighty crowded
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lucky Town
House got too crowded clothes got too tight
And I dont know just where Im going tonight
Out where the skys been cleared by a good hard rain
Theres somebody callin my secret name
Im going down to lucky town
Going down to lucky town
I wanna lose these blues Ive found
Down in lucky town
Down in lucky town
Had a coat of fine leather and snakeskin boots
But that coat always had a tread hangin loose
Well I pulled it one night and to my surprise
It led me right past your house and on over the rise
Im going down to lucky town
Down to lucky town
Im gonna lose these blues Ive found
Down in lucky town
Down in lucky town
I had some victory that was just failure in deceit
Now the jokes comin up through the soles of my feet
I been a long time walking on fortunes cane
Tonight Im steppin lightly and feelin no pain
Well heres to your good looks baby now heres to my health
Heres to the loaded places that we take ourselves
When it comes to luck you make your own
Tonight I got dirt on my hands but Im building me a new home
Down in lucky town
Down in lucky town
Im gonna lose these blues Ive found
Down in lucky town
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Only Song
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
You took it all
Without any gain.
You loved us all
With gentle eyes
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
39 plus one
Lashes great fall on your back
A crown of thorns
Pressed down around your head
The blood runs down
and yet you cry
'So many lost;
So many die.'
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain
Leave it now-
And cry again
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
Your troubled heart
Feels my pain.
Lifted up to die
Bitter gall served fresh
As wine
Yet you'd do it again
For one lost sheep
That beats in the air.
Man of sorrow
Man of pain
When is it enough?
So much grief
You swallow up
Yet you bore it
And demand me live-
Man of sorrow
I humbled myself down.
All glory to you
Man of sorrow
All thrones belong to you
Man of pain
You gave me life and
Even more
I have nothing
But myself to give -
Yet I keep taking it back
Man of Sorrow
Man of Pain.
poem by Charlotte Ballard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beyond the grief.
It seems as if we are stalled by our grief,
unable to move away from it – and I wonder
if we will ever get over the loss of you. In time
they say we will, that one day we will finally be free
of the sadness that burdens our hearts, and we will dance
in our remembrance, and there will be no more tears.
But if that's true, I must admit I will miss the tears
when there is an eventual easing of the grief.
I am not as eager to begin the dance
of life without you, for the world has lost its wonder
for me, some of its shine - and being free
seems awfully relative - I suppose just like time.
I can still so clearly recall the last time
we were all together - the tears
we shared, even laughter, when you were set free
of this earthly pain - and even in our grief,
we were filled with such wonder
as we witnessed the end of life's dance.
When I was a little boy you used to let me dance
on the top of your shoes, moving in time
to the music on the radio. Is it any wonder
that music, to this day, brings tears
of joy, mingled with the ever-present grief,
which still has not set me completely free.
I now realize there is a cost to love; it's not free -
for when you love, you buy a ticket to the dance
of life - which comes with joy and pain, celebration and grief.
And if you have lived a long enough time,
as I have, even when the loss brings never ending tears,
with a broken heart, it's worth all of the pain, and it's no wonder
people love so fiercely - so much so that they cease to wonder
about the why, when or where - and now I realize that I am free
to love, and to lose, which will bring with it many tears.
But each tear is worth it - and seems to make the dance
more authentic. In the end, I will measure my time
by how much of it was filled with love, and with grief.
No longer will I wonder whether or not I should dance,
I will just be free, stepping in and out of time,
wearing my tears like a badge of honor as I move beyond the grief.
poem by Mahfooz Ali
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Know This Poor Bloke
I know this poor bloke in the mood for suicide
And he has felt heavy hearted since the day his wife died
Some five years ago his ache of loss from him not gone
And till the day of his death his grief with him will live on.
I do meet him often though not every day
And for words to him I always feel stuck to say
He always talks of his dead wife and the grief that he feel
And for him I feel sorry since his sorrow is real.
On his sense of loss with him I sympathize
And each time I see him he has tears in his eyes
My condolences to him I already did pay
But the grief that he feels it is with him to stay.
The price of true love it can come at a great cost
And he is left to mourn for what he has lost
One in his late sixties his hair silvery gray
And the clock on his life it is ticking away.
A man due to grief in the mood for suicide
Though he is one now I would rather avoid
Since each time I meet him he talks of his dead wife
And I am one who needs laughter in my life.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maud: A Monodrama (Part II, excerpt)
.
O that 'twere possible
.
After long grief and pain
.
To find the arms of my true love
.
Round me once again!2.
When I was wont to meet her
.
In the silent woody places
.
By the home that gave me birth,
.
We stood tranced in long embraces
.
Mixt with kisses sweeter sweeter
.
Than anything on earth.2.
A shadow flits before me,
.
Not thou, but like to thee:
.
Ah Christ, that it were possible
.
For one short hour to see
.
The souls we loved, that they might tell us
.
What and where they be.2.
It leads me forth at evening,
.
It lightly winds and steals
.
In a cold white robe before me,
.
When all my spirit reels
.
At the shouts, the leagues of lights,
.
And the roaring of the wheels.2.
Half the night I waste in sighs,
.
Half in dreams I sorrow after
.
The delight of early skies;
.
In a wakeful doze I sorrow
.
For the hand, the lips, the eyes,
.
For the meeting of the morrow,
.
The delight of happy laughter,
.
The delight of low replies.2.
'Tis a morning pure and sweet,
.
And a dewy splendour falls
.
On the little flower that clings
.
To the turrets and the walls;
.
'Tis a morning pure and sweet,
.
And the light and shadow fleet;
.
She is walking in the meadow,
.
And the woodland echo rings;
.
In a moment we shall meet;
.
She is singing in the meadow,
.
And the rivulet at her feet
.
Ripples on in light and shadow
.
To the ballad that she sings.2.
So I hear her sing as of old,
.
My bird with the shining head,
.
My own dove with the tender eye?
.
But there rings on a sudden a passionate cry,
.
There is some one dying or dead,
.
And a sullen thunder is roll'd;
.
For a tumult shakes the city,
.
And I wake, my dream is fled;
.
In the shuddering dawn, behold,
.
Without knowledge, without pity,
.
By the curtains of my bed
.
That abiding phantom cold.2.
Get thee hence, nor come again,
.
Mix not memory with doubt,
.
Pass, thou deathlike type of pain,
.
Pass and cease to move about!
.
'Tis the blot upon the brain
.
That will show itself without.2.
Then I rise, the eave-drops fall,
.
And the yellow vapours choke
.
The great city sounding wide;
.
The day comes, a dull red ball
.
Wrapt in drifts of lurid smoke
.
On the misty river-tide.2.
Thro' the hubbub of the market
.
I steal, a wasted frame;
.
It crosses here, it crosses there,
.
Thro' all that crowd confused and loud,
.
The shadow still the same;
.
And on my heavy eyelids
.
My anguish hangs like shame.2.
Alas for her that met me,
.
That heard me softly call,
.
Came glimmering thro' the laurels
.
At the quiet evenfall,
.
In the garden by the turrets
.
Of the old manorial hall.2.
Would the happy spirit descend
.
From the realms of light and song,
.
In the chamber or the street,
.
As she looks among the blest,
.
Should I fear to greet my friend
.
Or to say "Forgive the wrong,"
.
Or to ask her, "Take me, sweet,
.
To the regions of thy rest"?2.
But the broad light glares and beats,
.
And the shadow flits and fleets
.
And will not let me be;
.
And I loathe the squares and streets,
.
And the faces that one meets,
.
Hearts with no love for me:
.
Always I long to creep
.
Into some still cavern deep,
.
There to weep, and weep, and weep
.
My whole soul out to thee....
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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