Longing
Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For so the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.
Come, as thou cam'st a thousand times,
A messenger from radiant climes,
And smile on thy new world, and be
As kind to others as to me!
Or, as thou never cam'st in sooth,
Come now, and let me dream it truth,
And part my hair, and kiss my brow,
And say, My love why sufferest thou?
Come to me in my dreams, and then
By day I shall be well again!
For so the night will more than pay
The hopeless longing of the day.
poem by Matthew Arnold
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Related quotes
Love Fulfilled
Hast thou longed through weary days
For the sight of one loved face?
Mast thou cried aloud for rest,
Mid the pain of sundering hours;
Cried aloud for sleep and death,
Since the sweet unhoped for best
Was a shadow and a breath?
O, long now, for no fear lowers
O’er these faint feet-kissing flowers.
O, rest now; and yet in sleep
All thy longing shalt thou keep.
Thou shalt rest and have no fear
Of a dull awaking near,
Of a life for ever blind,
Uncontent and waste and wide.
Thou shalt wake and think it sweet
That thy love is near and kind.
Sweeter still for lips to meet;
Sweetest that thine heart doth hide
Longing all unsatisfied
With all longing’s answering
Howsoever close ye cling.
Thou rememberest how of old
E’en thy very pain grew cold,
How thou might’st not measure bliss
E’en when eyes and hands drew nigh.
Thou rememberest all regret
For the scarce remembered kiss,
The lost dream of how they met,
Mouths once parched with misery.
Then seemed Love born but to die,
Now unrest, pain, bliss are one,
Love, unhidden and alone.
poem by William Morris
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Sonnet: On Calumny
Be thou a saint and yet the world won't spare;
Be thou most chaste and yet, most tongues will talk;
Be thou a crook and yet people don't care;
Be thou a tiger yet, some men will stalk.
Be thou cruel and yet the world will praise;
Be thou too kind and yet the world will taunt;
Be thou rigid and yet the world can't face;
Be thou timid and yet the world will haunt;
Be thou selfish and yet the world loves thee;
Be thou selfless and yet the world thee hates;
Be thou goodly and yet you are not free;
Be thou evil and yet the world thee mates.
Be thou yourself and yet the world finds fault;
Be thou anything, yet the world will vault.
poem by John Celes
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My Light Thou Art
My light thou art, without thy glorious sight
My eyes are darkened with eternal night;
My Love, thou art my way, my life, my light.
Thou art my way, I wander if thou fly;
Thou art my light, if hid, how blind am I!
Thou art my life, if thou withdraw'st I die.
Thou art my life; if thou but turn away,
My life's a thousand deaths. Thou art my way;
Without thee, Love, I travel not, but stray.
poem by Lord John Wilmot
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The Master Of My Pen, The Author Of My Woe
The master of my pen, the author of my woe
My loves sorrow, my love's flower morose
In my night dreams, in strange light show
An apparition of dead love, her ghastly ghost
O! Love dead! To me thou love still grow
And dampen my dreams, with serious tears
Awakening my unconscious to my conscious flow
Insinuating thy sweet sorrow into my love's fears
Thou art dead, and the sadness I feel
Is the sadness thou art, for thou cannot love me again
For thy hand is as weak as air, thou art not real
Only real in my emotive river, of lasting pain
My love, my love, thou became my love only
For thou art dead and I am sorrowfully lonely…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Awareness
Conscience
Thou art mystery
Love thy yet
Whisper out loud
Open sim sim
Thou allow one
Knowing the code
Thou feel to open
Thou fly
Thou dance
Thou swim
Thou play
Thou thrive on Truth
Truth nothing but the Truth
Discarding worn coat
In oblivion
Thou merge
With infinity
For the time being.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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A Flower's Song
Star! Star, why dost thou shine
Each night upon my brow?
Why dost thou make me dream the dreams
That I am dreaming now?
Star! Star, thy home is high --
I am of humble birth;
Thy feet walk shining o'er the sky,
Mine, only on the earth.
Star! Star, why make me dream?
My dreams are all untrue;
And why is sorrow dark for me
And heaven bright for you?
Star! Star, oh, hide thy ray,
And take it off my face;
Within my lowly home I stay,
Thou, in thy lofty place.
Star! Star, and still I dream,
Along thy light afar
I seem to soar until I seem
To be, like you, a star.
poem by Abram Joseph Ryan
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Awaiting Thee
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song.
When thou art gone;
My waking hours are filled only with thoughts of thee.
When I sleep,
My dreams are filled with thee-
As I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Lonely day,
After lonely day.
Lonely night,
After lonely night.
When The sun shines bright,
And the songbirds sing their joyous chorus-
It reminds me of this love of ours-
As I long for thee.
I await thee,
My love-
Throughout the lonely day-
Till the setting sun dwindles in dusk’s twilight-
Beyond golden pastures-
Fading in the night.
My love;
I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Throughout the lonely night,
As the crickets chirp their symphony,
And in the darkness,
Like floating candles,
The fireflies glow.
And I remember our love,
As I gaze at the silver moon,
And diamond stars.
Forever embracing this love of ours.
As I sleep at night,
I dream only of being with thee,
My love.
As I awake,
And the sun rises at dawn over the emerald mountain tops,
I await thee,
My love.
Longing for you-
Day through day,
Night through night-
I await thee,
My love.
My love;
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song…
poem by Philip Alarie
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Mary Magdalene At The Door Of Simon The Pharisee.
“WHY wilt thou cast the roses from thine hair?
Nay, be thou all a rose,—wreath, lips, and cheek.
Nay, not this house,—that banquet-house we seek;
See how they kiss and enter; come thou there.
This delicate day of love we two will share
Till at our ear love's whispering night shall speak.
What, sweet one,—hold'st thou still the foolish freak?
Nay, when I kiss thy feet they'll leave the stair.”
“Oh loose me! Seest thou not my Bridegroom's face
That draws me to Him? For His feet my kiss,
My hair, my tears He craves to-day:—and oh!
What words can tell what other day and place
Shall see me clasp those blood-stained feet of His?
He needs me, calls me, loves me: let me go!”
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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I Await Thee
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song.
When thou art gone;
My waking hours are filled only with thoughts of thee.
When I sleep,
My dreams are filled with thee-
As I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Lonely day,
After lonely day.
Lonely night,
After lonely night.
When The sun shines bright,
And the songbirds sing their joyous chorus-
I remember our love-
As I long for thee.
I await thee,
My love-
Throughout the lonely day-
Till the setting sun dwindles in dusk’s twilight-
Beyond golden pastures-
Fading in the night.
My love;
I long for thee.
My love;
I await thee-
Throughout the lonely night,
As the crickets chirp their symphony,
And in the darkness,
Like floating candles,
The fireflies glow.
And I remember our love,
As I gaze at the silver moon,
And diamond stars.
And I Forever embrace this love of ours.
As I sleep at night,
I dream only of being with thee,
My love.
As I awake,
And the sun rises at dawn over the emerald mountain tops,
I await thee,
My love.
Longing for thee-
Day through day,
Night through night-
I await thee,
My love.
My love;
When thou art gone;
I sing my lonely song…
poem by Philip Alarie
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Element of Coalesce
One has distress
Another’s got a hopeless longing
There exists such sorrow
Our precious treasured element
“Affection”
Life would be so valuable
To know that every personal you’d pass by
Is embracing you in their heart
Alluring you with a warm smile day after day
One has distress
Another’s got a hopeless longing
There exists such sorrow
Our precious treasured element
“Connection”
If you were to come across a girl in deep sorrow,
What would you do?
If you have distress, what can you do?
Would being there for her be enough to divulge the light?
For the first time, I feel like I didn’t say enough
Don’t stop breathing, this is only the beginning
I can’t keep swimming in this bitter world, knowing that you’re alone
I hate what the world’s done to you, to I, to us
One has distress
Another’s got a hopeless longing
There exists such sorrow
Our precious treasured element
“Love”
Look closely on the floor, you’ll see with your own eyes
The path that we took all those years to get here has already disintegrated
poem by Aiden Florence
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To the girl I call thee
Passion's sword cut thy lines for beauty to trace
And beauty did trace with all loves fever
Thou art a woman whose dream is to dream forever
So in other dreams you dream with them too
And make all dreams dreams come true..
Lost for words I'll let love speak
My love for you, my love you make
With passion's sword thy slice my soul
For thou to wear, for love's sake
Two thousand tears for one moment of love
Doth not quench the thirst of my melancholic palette
I love you as next to me I subtly taste
Thy soul, with my soul's love in love chaste
Beauty in my limpid tears, thou love's mirror
In my tears, thou tears do sear
Thy burnt tears emblazon love to me
My beloved, my heart, the girl I call thee
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Hast Thou Forgotten Me?
HAST thou forgotten me? the days are dark—
Light ebbs from heaven, and songless soars the lark—
Vexed like my heart, loud moans the unquiet sea—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? O dead delight
Whose dreams and memories torture me to-night—
O love—my life! O sweet—so fair to see—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Lo, if one should say—
Noontide were night, or night were flaming day—
Grief blinds mine eyes, I know not which it be!
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Ah, if Death should come,
Close my sad eyes, and charm my song-bird dumb—
Tired of strange woes—my fate were hailed with glee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? What joy have I?
A dim blown bird beneath an alien sky,—
O that on mighty pinions I could flee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Yea, Love’s horoscope
Is blurred with tears and suffering beyond Hope—
Ah, like dead leaves forsaken of the tree,
Thou hast forgotten me.
poem by Philip Joseph Holdsworth
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Ch 05 On Love And Youth Story 07
One who had for a considerable time not seen his friend asked him where he had been and said he had been longing. He replied: ‘To be longing is better than to be satisfied.’
Thou hast come late, O intoxicated idol,
We shall not soon let go thy skirt from the hand.
He who sees his sweetheart at long intervals
Is after all better off than if he sees too much of her.
When thou comest with friends to visit me
Although thou comest in peace thou art attacking.
If my sweetheart associates one moment with strangers
It wants but little and I die of jealousy.
She said smiling: ‘I am the lamp of the assembly, O Sa’di,
What is it to me if a moth kills itself?’
Night
In the night, in the night,
When thou liest alone,
Ah, the sounds that are blown
In the freaks of the breeze,
By the spirit that sends
The voice of far friends
With the sigh of the seas
In the night!
In the night, in the night,
When thou liest alone,
Ah, the ghosts that make moan
From the days that are sped:
The old dreams, the old deeds,
The old wound that still bleeds,
And the face of the dead
In the night!
In the night, in the night,
When thou liest alone,
With the grass and the stone
O'er thy chamber so deep,
Ah, the silence at last,
Life's dissonance past,
And only pure sleep
In the night!
poem by William Watson
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Dream A Little Dream Of Me
Stars shining bright above you.
Night breezes seem to whisper, 'I love you,'
Birds singing in the sycamore tree.
Dream a little dream of me.
Say nighty-night and kiss me.
Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.
While I'm alone and blue as can be,
Dream a little dream of me.
Stars fading, but I linger on, dear,
Still craving your kiss.
I'm longing to linger 'till dawn, dear,
Just saying this:
Sweet dreams 'till sunbeams find you,
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you.
But in your dreams, whatever they be.
Dream a little dream of me.
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An intruder
Thou came and won my heart,
I was not ready for that
Yet I sacrificed my ego
At the altar of thy love.
I honoured thy desire
Dishonouring mine,
I illumined thy world Darkening mine,
I inhabited thy heart
Deserting mine.
But all of a sudden
What happened?
Thou shifted the fragrance of thy love
To someone else,
Thou lighted his heart
from
The pyre of my love,
Thou robbed me
Of my love, my emotions,
And
even my dreams,
Thou came into my world stealthily,
Thou were an intruder.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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The Dream
DEAR love, for nothing less than thee
Would I have broke this happy dream;
It was a theme
For reason, much too strong for fantasy.
Therefore thou waked'st me wisely; yet
My dream thou brokest not, but continued'st it.
Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice
To make dreams truths, and fables histories;
Enter these arms, for since thou thought'st it best,
Not to dream all my dream, let's act the rest.
As lightning, or a taper's light,
Thine eyes, and not thy noise waked me;
Yet I thought thee
—For thou lovest truth—an angel, at first sight;
But when I saw thou saw'st my heart,
And knew'st my thoughts beyond an angel's art,
When thou knew'st what I dreamt, when thou knew'st when
Excess of joy would wake me, and camest then,
I must confess, it could not choose but be
Profane, to think thee any thing but thee.
Coming and staying show'd thee, thee,
But rising makes me doubt, that now
Thou art not thou.
That love is weak where fear's as strong as he;
'Tis not all spirit, pure and brave,
If mixture it of fear, shame, honour have;
Perchance as torches, which must ready be,
Men light and put out, so thou deal'st with me;
Thou camest to kindle, go'st to come; then I
Will dream that hope again, but else would die.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Maxim Of Peace
Never have regrets, brother,
But for sake of sin;
The treacherous heart within
All too soon forgets, brother,
How it felt, and was, in thought,
Acting out the thing it ought.
All thy will was well, brother,
Well didst thou deserve;
Circumstance might swerve,
But, the truth to tell, brother,
Consequences none foresee
Never need be cares to thee.
Always for the best, brother,
Hourly hast thou striven;
Though to be forgiven,
This shall be thy test, brother,--
Did not honest zeal obey
Duty's impulse every day?
What seem'd then so right, brother,
Let no censure now,
No unkindly brow,
Damage in thy sight, brother;
Yesterday did what it could;
Scorn not thou its humbler good!
To thyself be true, brother;
Yield not to regret;
Nor thy spirit fret
To do, or to undo, brother,
What is now beyond thy skill;
Facts are facts, do what we will.
Every Present seems, brother,
Girt about with friends;
Every Future sends
Glory to thy dreams, brother;
But we all condemn too fast
The friendless and the hopeless Past.
Scorn not what thou wast, brother,--
Trust not what thou art;
Watch thy coward heart;
Look to that thou hast, brother;
Nothing is within thy power,
But the swiftly passing hour.
Therefore do not set, brother,
Sorrow on the past;
When the die is cast
Never nurse regret, brother:
Only for thy sin be sad,
For all beside be wisely glad!
poem by Martin Farquhar Tupper
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Dream A Little Dream Of Me
Stars shining bright above you,
Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you,
Birds singing in the sycamore tree,
Dream a little dream of me.
Just say goodnight and kiss me,
Oh, hold me tight and tell me you miss me;
While Im alone and blue as can be,
Dream a little dream of me.
Stars fading, but I linger on, dear,
Still craving your kiss;
Im longing to linger till dawn, my dear,
Just saying this:
Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you,
Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you,
But in your dreams whatever they be,
Dream a little dream of me.
Say nightie-night and kiss me,
Oh, hold me tight and tell me you miss me;
While Im alone and blue as can be,
Dream a little dream of me.
Dream a little dream of you and me.
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Disciple
Thou wilt my hands employ, though others find
No work for those who praise thy name aright;
And in their worldly wisdom call them blind,
Whom thou has blest with thine own spirit's sight.
But while they find no work for thee to do,
And blindly on themselves alone rely;
The child must suffer what thou sufferest too
And learn from him thou sent e'en so to die;
Thou art my Father, thou wilt give me aid
To bear the wrong the Spirit suffers here;
Thou hast thy help upon the mighty laid,
In him I trust, nor know to want or fear,
But ever onward walk secure from sin,
For he has conquered every foe within.
poem by Jones Very
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