Pauper Poet's Song
Sun, moon, and stars, the ample air,
The birds shrill whistling everywhere,
Fields white with lambs and daisies;
The pearls of eve, the jewelled morn,
The rose rich blowing on the thorn,
The glow of blush-rose faces;
The silver glint of sun-smit rain,
The shattered sun-gold of the main,
And heaven's sweet breath that moves it;
The earth, our myriad-bosomed nurse,
This whole miraculous universe
Belongs to him who loves it!
Why fret then for the gold of this,
The fame of that man, or the bliss,
Or such another's graces?
Oh heart that chim'st with golden verse,
My heart, thou art the magic purse
Which all dull trouble chases;
Thine too fruition of all fame
When the live soul, as flame with flame,
Weds the dead soul that moves it;
Then sing for aye, and aye rehearse,
This whole miraculous universe
Belongs to him who loves it!
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Terse Verse
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
In my soul thou so give
And on its worth my life I live
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
Love is a morsel of thine treasure
In one ounce is my immense pleasure
Terse little verse, gold from beauties purse
Sing like a muse
and in poetry fuse
my soul into verse from beauties purse
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Immortality In Thee
Love is my fire, which burns to ash
And with its ash I write thy name
On thy heart, on thy heart of fame
So love does not die, but seep in thee
And thou realize what thee mean to me.
Thy meaning is to simply be
The lady thou art, the lady I see
With my soul's earnest eye
And with my hearts tender sigh
In mine essence thine heart shall never die
My love is immortal, it shall not perish
And in natures beauty it will cherish
All loves to be all to loves to come
And with my loves soft drum, I beat
I sing, to thy souls in nature.. I sing
In the sun's incandescent light
In the cadence of her ocean's waves
In the mist drenched valleys of her hills
In the rich colorful petals of fragile flowers
In the aroma of her strange spices
In the evanescence of her moon
In the beauty of her earthly souls
In sympathy, forgiveness, humanity
In the sensitivity of thine heart!
From the fire of dying love
With its ashes, I give,
To thou to keep, in thine heart hidden deep.
My ashes so seep….
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Aphrodite
On a golden dawn in the dawn sublime
Of years ere the stars had ceased to sing,
Beautiful out of the sea-deeps cold
Aphrodite arose—the Flower of Time—
That, dear till the day of her blossoming,
The old, old Sea had borne in his heart.
Around her worshipping waves did part
Tremulous—glowing in rose and gold.
And the birds broke forth into singing sweet,
And flowers born scentless breathed perfume:
Softly she smiled upon Man forlorn,
And the music of love in his wild heart beat,
And down to the pit went his gods of gloom,
And earth grew bright and fair as a bride,
And folk in star-worlds wondering cried—
“Lo in the skies a new star is born!”
O Beloved, thus on my small world you
Rose, flushing it all with rosy flame!
Changing sad thoughts to a singing throng,
And creating the earth and the sky anew!
As Love you appeared—and, lo, you are Fame,
And, all my follies and sins despite,
You yet, Beloved, may see my light—
Small, but a star—mid the stars of song.
poem by Victor James Daley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why still I love you!
A very mysterious, a very miraculous
A Very high and very deep
A Very wide and very charming
A Very holy and very hidden
Pulling my dream my hope
My desires my courage
My likes, my eyes, my mind
My lungs, my blood
My hands and my feet
My soul and my heart
The every part
The whole universe
And attracted towards
You the curious
The fantabulous
The gift
The bliss
The secret essence of life
The sweet
The delicious
The delicate
The means
The meaning
The driving force
The revolving center
The wonder
The surprise
Do you feel the same?
If yes,
Then we are in love
As the moon loves the sun
As the sky loves the ground
As the winds loves the cloud
As the river loves the ocean
If you not, I don't care
As I love the butterflies
The trees
The leaves
The flowers
The fruits
The air
The water
The nature
The whole universe
And they do feel the same
So I am alive
You are the part of
And the bees
Of all these
If they sting
I don't care
As I love myself
More wide than the sky
More deep than the ocean
More high than the hills
The life is very baffling
I feel uneasy
I am in jittery
I cant eat
I cant sleep
I am very angry
Not because
You don't love me
Because why still I love you!
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When A Man Loves A Woman
When a man loves a woman,
He'll cherish his happiness with her,
Fulfiling her life with joy,
Showing his love day by day.
When a man loves a woman,
In the silence of world time stood still,
He and she together beneath the sky,
And their love growing with each throbbing kiss.
When a man loves a woman,
His eyes will wrapp her in his magic,
She 'll be atracted by his charm,
They'll seal this love with passion.
When a man loves a woman,
His heart belongs to her,
As like the precious gift she'll ever had,
And only her holds the key to open his heart.
When a man loves a woman,
He'll always nurture and protect her,
She'll be his reason to live for,
And got through fire to save her.
When a man loves a woman,
He'll have eyes only for her,
She'll be the meaning of his life,
The center of his universe.
poem by Cristina Teodor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Magical
IF you had been where I have been
(Grey, grey the skies above),
And you had seen what I have seen,
You would not laugh at love.
Seek, seek till you find a rose
Red all through to its petal-tips,
And you shall know the curve of her mouth,
The scent of her breath and the red of her lips.
If you had heard what I have heard
(Dull, dull the beat of the sea).
Your heart would leap like a singing bird
Troubled and thrilled by ecstasy.
Stars sing in the dark o' the night,
Birds sing in the gold o' the noon;
Melody reigned in her speech a queen,
The song of the stars and the birds' tune.
The rose is dead that was her mouth
(Pale, pale on the earth it lies),
And East and West and North and South
The world is full of weeping eyes.
A noon is dark, a star is gone,
A rose is dead, a bird is mute;
And love that made sounds magical
Is silent like a broken lute.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Fame
As recorded by david bowie
Fame, makes a man take things over.
Fame, let's him lose, hard to swallow.
Fame, puts you there where things are hollow.
Fame.
Fame,
It's not your brain, it's just a flame,
That burns your change to keep you insane.
Fame.
Fame, what you like is in the limo.
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow.
Fame, what you need you have to borrow.
Fame.
Fame,
Now it's mine, it's just his line
To bind your time it drives you to crime.
Fame.
Is it any wonder
I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame.
Is it any wonder
You are too cool to fool?
Fame.
Fame,
Bully for you,
Chilly for me,
Got to get a raincheck on pain.
Fame.
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, - fame.
What's your name?
(fame, fame)
(fame, fame)
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fame
As recorded by david bowie
Fame, makes a man take things over.
Fame, let's him lose, hard to swallow.
Fame, puts you there where things are hollow.
Fame.
Fame,
It's not your brain, it's just a flame,
That burns your change to keep you insane.
Fame.
Fame, what you like is in the limo.
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow.
Fame, what you need you have to borrow.
Fame.
Fame,
Now it's mine, it's just his line
To bind your time it drives you to crime.
Fame.
Is it any wonder
I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame.
Is it any wonder
You are too cool to fool?
Fame.
Fame,
Bully for you,
Chilly for me,
Got to get a raincheck on pain.
Fame.
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, - fame.
What's your name?
(fame, fame)
(fame, fame)
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fame
Fame, (fame) makes a man take things over
Fame, (fame) lets him loose, hard to swallow
Fame, (fame) puts you there where things are hollow
Fame (fame)
Fame, its not your brain, its just the flame
That burns your change to keep you insane (sane)
Fame (fame)
Fame, (fame) what you like is in the limo
Fame, (fame) what you get is no tomorrow
Fame, (fame) what you need you have to borrow
Fame (fame)
Fame, nien! its mine! is just his line
To bind your time, it drives you to, crime
Fame (fame)
Could it be the best, could it be?
Really be, really, babe?
Could it be, my babe, could it, babe?
Could it, babe? , could it, babe?
Is it any wonder I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Is it any wonder you are too cool to fool
Fame (fame)
Fame, bully for you, chilly for me
Got to get a rain check on pain (pain)
(fame)
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame ,fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame
Whats your name?
Feeling so gay, feeling gay
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Autumn Treasure-Trove
'Tis the time of the year's sundown, and flame
Hangs on the maple bough;
And June is the faded flower of a name;
The thin hedge hides not a singer now.
Yet rich am I; for my treasures be
The gold afloat in my willow-tree.
Sweet morn on the hillside dripping with dew,
Girded with blue and pearl,
Counts the leaves afloat in the streamlet too;
As the love-lorn heart of a wistful girl,
She sings while her soul brooding tearfully
Sees a dream of gold in the willow-tree.
All day pure white and saffron at eve,
Clouds awaiting the sun
Turn them at length to ghosts that leave
When the moon's white path is slowly run
Till the morning comes, and with joy for me
O'er my gold agleam in the willow-tree.
The lilacs that blew on the breast of May
Are an old and lost delight;
And the rose lies ruined in his careless way
As the wind turns the poplars underwhite,
Yet richer am I for the autumn; see
All my misty gold in the willow-tree.
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pretty Pink Rose
Shes just been to russia and theyre dying their faces
Theyre dying over there
A pretty pink rose
That rnr lady takes a space-ship ride shes out of this world
A pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love
Pretty pink rose
She tore down paris on the tall of thom paine
But the left wings broken the right insane
A pretty pink rose
Have a nice day, its a killer, turn a cheek
Its a christian code
A pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love
Pretty pink rose
Shes the poor mans gold shes the anarchist crucible
Flying in the face of the despot cannible
Shes a pretty pink rose
Never let it rain, never let it rain on the heart of the pretty pink rose
Pretty pink rose
And were living for you my love, were living for you
And were dying for you my love, pretty pink rose
Get me thru the pain, thru the pain of the thorn on the pretty pink rose
Never let it rain, never rain never rain, the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart,, of the pretty pink rose
Take me to the heart, to the heart, to the heart
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fame '90 (Gass Remix)
Fame 90
David Bowie
words and music by David Bowie, John Lennon and Carlos Alomar
Fame, makes a man take things over
Fame, lets him loose, hard to swallow
Fame, puts you there where things are hollow
Fame
Fame, it's not your brain, it's just the flame
That burns your change to keep you insane
Fame
Fame-f-fame
Fame, what you like is in the limo
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow
Fame, what you need you have to borrow
Fame
Fame, "Nien! It's mine!" is just his line
To bind your time, it drives you to crime
Fame
(What's your name?)
Fame
Could it be the best, could it be?
Really be, really, babe?
Could it be, my babe, could it babe?
Really, really?
Is it any wonder I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Is it any wonder you are too cool to fool
Fame
Fame-f-fame
Fame, bully for you, chilly for me
Got to get a rain check on pain
Fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame
Fame
What's your name?
(whispered)
Feeling so gay, feeling gay
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Late Loved--Well Loved
He stood beside her in the dawn
(And she his Dawn and she his Spring),
From her bright palm she fed her fawn,
Her swift eyes chased the swallow's wing:
Her restless lips, smile-haunted, cast
Shrill silver calls to hound and dove:
Her young locks wove them with the blast.
To the flush'd, azure shrine above,
The light boughs o'er her golden head
Toss'd em'rald arm and blossom palm.
The perfume of their prayer was spread
On the sweet wind in breath of balm.
'Dawn of my heart,' he said, 'O child,
Knit thy pure eyes a space with mine:
O chrystal, child eyes, undefiled,
Let fair love leap from mine to thine!'
'The Dawn is young,' she smiled and said,
'Too young for Love's dear joy and woe;
Too young to crown her careless head
With his ripe roses. Let me go--
Unquestion'd for a longer space,
Perchance, when day is at the flood,
In thy true palm I'll gladly place
Love's flower in its rounding bud.
But now the day is all too young,
The Dawn and I are playmates still.'
She slipped the blossomed boughs among,
He strode beyond the violet hill.
Again they stand (Imperial noon
Lays her red sceptre on the earth),
Where golden hangings make a gloom,
And far off lutes sing dreamy mirth.
The peacocks cry to lily cloud,
From the white gloss of balustrade:
Tall urns of gold the gloom make proud,
Tall statues whitely strike the shade,
And pulse in the dim quivering light
Until, most Galatea-wise--
Each looks from base of malachite
With mystic life in limbs and eyes.
Her robe, (a golden wave that rose,
And burst, and clung as water clings
To her long curves) about her flows.
Each jewel on her white breast sings
Its silent song of sun and fire.
No wheeling swallows smite the skies
And upward draw the faint desire,
Weaving its myst'ry in her eyes.
In the white kisses of the tips
Of her long fingers lies a rose,
Snow-pale beside her curving lips,
Red by her snowy breast it glows.
'Noon of my soul,' he says, 'behold!
The day is ripe, the rose full blown,
Love stands in panoply of gold,
To Jovian height and strength now grown,
No infant he, a king he stands,
And pleads with thee for love again.'
'Ah, yes!' she says, 'in known lands,
He kings it--lord of subtlest pain;
The moon is full, the rose is fair--
Too fair! 'tis neither white nor red:
'I know the rose that love should wear,
Must redden as the heart had bled!
The moon is mellow bright, and I
Am happy in its perfect glow.
The slanting sun the rose may dye--
But for the sweet noon--let me go.'
She parted--shimm'ring thro' the shade,
Bent the fair splendour of her head:
'Would the rich noon were past,' he said,
Would the pale rose were flush'd to red!'
Again. The noon is past and night
Binds on his brow the blood red Mars--
Down dusky vineyards dies the fight,
And blazing hamlets slay the stars.
Shriek the shrill shells: the heated throats
Of thunderous cannon burst--and high
Scales the fierce joy of bugle notes:
The flame-dimm'd splendours of the sky.
He, dying, lies beside his blade:
Clear smiling as a warrior blest
With victory smiles, thro' sinister shade
Gleams the White Cross upon her breast.
'Soul of my soul, or is it night
Or is it dawn or is it day?
I see no more nor dark nor light,
I hear no more the distant fray.'
''Tis Dawn,' she whispers: 'Dawn at last!
Bright flush'd with love's immortal glow
For me as thee, all earth is past!
Late loved--well loved, now let us go!'
poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Failure
THE BOY went out from the ranges grim,
And the breath of the mountains went with him;
With a song in his heart and a smile on his face,
And a light in his eyes for a foremost place:
And the good green earth, and the salt sea spray,
And the soft blue skies, they were his that day;
And, like Eden, ringed with a golden fire—
Afar rose the Land of His Heart’s Desire.
The boy went down to the city’s strife,
And his face was lost in the surge of life;
But a Power that he did not understand
Had nerved his brain and his fighting hand.
And he strove and failed, and he rose and won—
And he failed again ere the fight was done;
But he battled on when the days were dire
To win to the Land of His Heart’s Desire.
And there, in the heart of the stress and din,
’Mid want and labour and wealth and sin,
The strong man struggled with shining eyes,
And forced a passage, and grasped the prize.
And he cried to the Power who had lent the fire:
“Lo! Fame is the Land of My Heart’s Desire!
Give the cup to me with a beaded brim.”
And the Power that he knew not gave it him.
But the air is keen on the Cliffs of Fame,
And the shafts that fly have a deadly aim!
With a foothold scarce, and a sleepless dread
For the gulfs below and the heights o’erhead,
He cried to the Power who had steeled his hand:
“I am outcast yet from my Fairyland!
For Fame is a land where no strength may tire,
But Love is the Land of My Heart’s Desire!”
Then there came to the man all his dream of Love,
With the brow of snow and the eyes of a dove,
With the glint of the sun on her wavy hair,
And her soul as pure as her face was fair.
Like a living lily to him she came,
Till his eyes were wet and his soul was flame,
And she called to him, with an outstretched hand,
And they entered into the Promised Land.
But there came a day when he asked his soul,
“Is this the land, and is this the goal?”
In his heart there lay what his lips denied—
The pang of a hunger unsatisfied.
“For Fame,” he said, “and for Love I wrought;
They are not the things that I should have sought:
’Tis to boundless power that my dreams aspire—
And Wealth is the Land of My Heart’s Desire!”
Then the Power that he did not understand
Gave him ships and houses and gold and land,
And the man’s power grew with each passing year;
But his thoughts were vexed with a sleepless fear,
And his hair grew gray with the iron strain
Of the dread of loss and the lust of gain,
And he bowed his head on his hands and said.
“All things are mine, but my heart is dead!”
And he thought of the boy from the ranges grim
With the breath of the mountains over him,
With a song in his heart and a smile on his face,
And a light in his eyes for a foremost place,
And the good green earth and the salt sea spray,
And the soft blue skies that were his that day,
When, like Eden, ringed with a golden fire,
Afar rose the Land of His Heart’s Desire.
Then clear on his startled ear there fell
A voice like the sound of a silver bell:
“To each is the work that he best can do,
But you turned from the work when it called to you.
And you sought instead for the vulgar praise,
For the lips of love, and for prosperous days.
And with all that the world can give you here,
You have lost the thing that you hold most dear.
For who hears the word that the Gods inspire—
In his work finds the Land of His Heart’s Desire.”
poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Such a Rose In The Heart Of Rose
Such a Rose In The Heart Of Rose) it
blooms in my heart that rose(upon
me that grows, no matter where I leave
my heart dear(it loves on me to grow.
Bound up in thorns my love, I lay on beds
of them forever waiting to grow, with you
dear, as I bend to smell, that one red rose.
My heart is your rose, it climbs, and beats
when pricked, by the thorn, to be carried up
to every rose on the bush.My rose, your heart,
it blooms in love, each beat lifts to crown the
the heart, as the sun heats them both, to feed
each root that folds my heart back into the rose.
Such a Rose In The Heart Of Rose;
poem by Is It Poetry
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rose in the heart of rose
A Rose In The Heart Of Rose
it blooms in my heart
that rose upon me that grows,
no matter where I leave my heart
dear it loves on me to grow.
Bound up in thorns my love,
I lay on beds of them forever
waiting to grow, with you
dear, as I bend to smell, that one red rose.
My heart is your rose,
it climbs, and beats
when pricked, by the thorn,
to be carried up
to every rose on the bush.
My rose, your heart,
it blooms in love, each beat lifts to
crown the the heart, as the sun heats them
both, to feed each root that folds
my heart back into the rose.
Such a Rose In The Heart Of Rose
poem by Anees Akbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song (#2)
THOU art the soul of a summer's day,
Thou art the breath of the rose.
But the summer is fled
And the rose is dead
Where are they gone, who knows, who knows?
Thou art the blood of my heart o' hearts,
Thou art my soul's repose,
But my heart grows numb
And my soul is dumb
Where art thou, love, who knows, who knows?
Thou art the hope of my after years —
Sun for my winter snows
But the years go by
'Neath a clouded sky.
Where shall we meet, who knows, who knows?
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little White Rose
Little white rose that I loved, I loved,
Roisin ban, Roisin ban!
Fair my bud as the morning's dawn.
I kissed my beautiful flower to bloom,
My heart grew glad for its rich perfume—
Little white rose that I loved!
Little white rose that I loved grew red,
Roisin rua, Roisin rua!
Passionate tears I wept for you.
Love is more sweet than the world's fame—
I dream you back in my heart the same,
Little white rose that I loved!
Little white rose that I loved grew black,
Roisin duv, Roisin duv!
So I knew not the heart of you.
Lost in the world's alluring fire,
I cry in the night for my heart's desire,
Little white rose that I loved!
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Hole In My Soul
I'm down a one-way street
With a one-night stand, With a one track mind
Out in no-mans land
(The punishment sometimes dont seem to fit the crime)
Yeah theres a hole in my soul
But one thing Ive learned
For every love letter written
Theres another burned
(So you tell me how its gonna be this time)
Is it over, Is it over
Cause I'm blowin out the flame
Take a walk outside your mind
Tell me how it feels to be
The one who turns the knife inside of me
Take a look and you will find theres nothing there girl
Yeah I swear, I'm telling you girl yeah cause
Theres a hole im my soul thats been killing me forever
Its a place where a garden never grows
Theres a hole in my soul, yeah I should have known better
Cause your loves like a thorn without a rose
I'm as dry as a seven-year drought
I got dust for tears
And I'm all tapped out
(Sometimes I feel broken and cant get fixed)
I know theres been all kinds of shoes underneath your bed
Now I sleep with my boots on but youre still in my head
(And something tells me this time I'm down to my last licks)
Cause if its over, Then its over
And its driving me insane
Take a walk outside your mind
Tell me how it feels to be
The one who turns the knife inside of me
Take a look and you will find theres nothing there girl
Yeah I swear, I'm telling you girl yeah cause
Theres a hole im my soul thats been killing me forever
Its a place where a garden never grows
Theres a hole im my soul, Yeah, I should have known better
Cause your loves like a thorn without a rose
If its over, It is over
Cause I'm blowin out the flame
Take a walk outside your mind
Tell me how it feels to be
The one who turns the knife inside of me
Take a look and you will find
Theres nothing there girl yeah I swear
I'm telling you girl, yeah cause
Theres a hole im my soul thats been killing me forever
Its a place where a garden never grows
Theres a hole im my soul, Yeah, I should have known better
Cause your loves like a thorn without a rose
song performed by by Aerosmith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Annunciation
'The lord appeared in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush and behold, the bush burned with fire and the bush was not consumed.'-EXODOUS iii.2.
When to your virgin heart, unstirred, ungiven,
Upon the quiet mountainside untrod,
The sudden naked fire came down from heaven,
Burning you with the very breath of God,
Was the sun lost? Were all the sweet stars dim
While God raised round your head those walls of light?
Were you locked dumbly, terribly with Him,
Within that burning temple day and night?
What was it to have God there like a bird-
God like a great, gold flower upon your breast-
While He spake things that only one man heard,
Face down before that glory manifest?
When that strange flame went up the mountain side,
Were your forsaken lips so burned with gold
That the creatures of the wild stood off and cried,
And in your breast no blossom dared unfold?
Did you call back the startled birds to build,
And put forth all your simple buds again,
Forgetting how your branches once were filled,
In sweet embrace of passing sun and rain?
Or were all other birds forbidden sing
After those great, gold plumes had made their nest?
Was, in its strange and awful blossoming,
That great, gold flower the last upon your breast?
poem by Muriel Stuart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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