Songs Set To Music: 26.
Some kind angel, gently flying,
Moved with pity at my pain,
Tell Corinna I am dying
Till with joy we meet again.
Tell Corinna, since we parted
I have never known delight,
And shall soon be broken-hearted
If I longer want her sight.
Tell her how her lover, mourning,
Thinks each lazy day a year,
Cursing every morn returning,
Since Corinna is not here.
Tell her, too, not distant places,
Will she be but true and kind,
Join'd with time and change of faces,
E'er shall shake my constant mind.
poem by Matthew Prior
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Corinna
(written by taj mahal and jesse ed davis)
Just when you think you know me, think again
(corinna, corinna, corinna)
Hmm, aint nothin like my corinna (corinna)
(corinna) hmm, aint nothin like my corinna (corinna)
I got a bird wanna whistles
Baby, got a bird
Honey got a bird will sing
Baby, got a bird
Honey got a bird will sing
Without my corinna
Sure dont mean
Sure dont mean a natural thing
Oh, I learned to love you
Baby, for I call
Honey, for I call your name
Baby, for I call
Honey, for I call out your name
I wouldnt trade your love for money
Baby, youre my warm hearts
Honey, youre my warm hearts flame
Oh, oh, oh (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
(na, na, na, na, na, na, na (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
Have mercy, have mercy, baby
Honey, youre my hard luck
Baby, youre my hard luck soul
Honey, youre my hard luck
Women, on my hard luck soul
Got a rainbow round my shoulder
Shine like silver
Looks like some ol fools gold
-musical interlude-
(ooh, ah, ooh)
(corinna) oh, oh
(hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, ooh
(corinna) (hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
Well, I love you so much, honey
Gotta tell the world
Baby, baby, tell the world I do
(corinna)
Oh, honey tell the world
Baby, tell the world I do
You know, you know, you know, you know
Aint no man, aint no man in fourteen countries
Gonna love me baby
Baby like the way you do
Hey, hey, hey
I got a bird wanna whistle
Baby, got a bird
Honey, got a bird will sing
Honey got a bird
Baby, got a bird that will sing
Oh, without my corinna
Sure dont mean
Sure dont mean a natural thing
Gotta say it one more time (corinna) oh
(hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
Oh (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
Aint nothin, nothin, nothin, nothin
(hmm, aint nothin like my corinna)
Tell the world, tell the world about it (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothin like my corinna) sing!
(corinna) (hmm) ooh
(aint nothin like my corinna) hee, hee
I like it when you...
(hmm, aint nothin like my)
Oh, oh, oh, oh, (corinna) oh
Corinna (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothin like my corinna)
Corinna, corinna (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothin like my corinna)
Corinna, oh, oh, corinna (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothin like my corinna)...
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted
As I walk this land of broken dreams
I have visions of many things
But happiness is just an illusion
Filled with sadness and confusion
What becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Maybe
The roots of love grow all around
But for me they come a tumbling down
Every day heartaches grow a little stronger
I cant stand this pain much longer
I walk in shadows searching for light
Cold and alone no comfort in sight
Hoping and praying for someone who cares
Always moving and going nowhere
What becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Help me, please
Im searching though I dont succeed
For someones love theres a growing need
All is lost theres no place for beginning
All thats left is an unhappy ending
Now what becomes of the brokenhearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind
Ill be searching everywhere
Just to find someone to care
Ill be looking every day
I know Im gonna find a way
Nothings going to stop me now
Ill find a way somehow
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love thats now departed
I know Ive got to find
Some kind of peace of mind, maybe
Oh yeah
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love thats now departed
What becomes of the broken hearted
Who had love thats now departed
What becomes of the broken hearted
song performed by by Westlife
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Silent Storm [Leaving]
Damian Lewis, Andrea Riseborough, Ross Anderson
by Corinna McFarlane from The Silent Storm (2014)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Silent Storm [Punishment]
Damian Lewis, Andrea Riseborough, Ross Anderson
by Corinna McFarlane from The Silent Storm (2014)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Silent Storm [The Greatest Test]
Damian Lewis, Andrea Riseborough, Ross Anderson
by Corinna McFarlane from The Silent Storm (2014)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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An Oath
A month ago Lysander pray'd
To Jove, to Cupid, and to Venus,
That he might die if he betray'd
A single vow that pass'd between us.
Ah, careless gods, to hear so ill
And cheat a maid on you relying!
For false Lysander's thriving still,
And 'tis Corinna lies a-dying.
poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Corinna's Going A-Maying
Get up, get up for shame, the blooming Morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air;
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east,
Above an hour since; yet you not drest,
Nay! not so much as out of bed?
When all the birds have matins said,
And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis sin,
Nay, profanation, to keep in,
Whenas a thousand virgins on this day
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.
Rise; and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green;
And sweet as Flora. Take no care
For jewels for your gown, or hair;
Fear not, the leaves will strew
Gems in abundance upon you;
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept;
Come and receive them while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night;
And Titan on the eastern hill
Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying;
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.
Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park
Made green and trimm'd with trees; see how
Devotion gives each house a bough
Or branch; each porch, each door ere this
An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn, neatly interwove;
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Can such delights be in the street
And open fields and we not see't?
Come, we'll abroad; and let's obey
The proclamation made for May,
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying;
But my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.
There's not a budding boy, or girl, this day,
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
A deal of youth, ere this, is come
Back, and with white-thorn laden, home.
Some have despatch'd their cakes and cream,
Before that we have left to dream;
And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth;
Many a green-gown has been given;
Many a kiss, both odd and even;
Many a glance too has been sent
From out the eye, love's firmament;
Many a jest told of the keys betraying
This night, and locks pick'd, yet we're not a-Maying.
Come, let us go, while we are in our prime;
And take the harmless folly of the time.
We shall grow old apace, and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun;
And as a vapour, or a drop of rain,
Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drown'd with us in endless night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.
poem by Robert Herrick
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Beautiful Young Nymph Going To Bed
Corinna, Pride of Drury-Lane,
For whom no Shepherd sighs in vain;
Never did Covent Garden boast
So bright a batter'd, strolling Toast;
No drunken Rake to pick her up,
No Cellar where on Tick to sup;
Returning at the Midnight Hour;
Four Stories climbing to her Bow'r;
Then, seated on a three-legg'd Chair,
Takes off her artificial Hair:
Now, picking out a Crystal Eye,
She wipes it clean, and lays it by.
Her Eye-Brows from a Mouse's Hide,
Stuck on with Art on either Side,
Pulls off with Care, and first displays 'em,
Then in a Play-Book smoothly lays 'em.
Now dextrously her Plumpers draws,
That serve to fill her hollow Jaws.
Untwists a Wire; and from her Gums
A Set of Teeth completely comes.
Pulls out the Rags contriv'd to prop
Her flabby Dugs and down they drop.
Proceeding on, the lovely Goddess
Unlaces next her Steel-Rib'd Bodice;
Which by the Operator's Skill,
Press down the Lumps, the Hollows fill,
Up hoes her Hand, and off she slips
The Bolsters that supply her Hips.
With gentlest Touch, she next explores
Her Shankers, Issues, running Sores,
Effects of many a sad Disaster;
And then to each applies a Plaster.
But must, before she goes to Bed,
Rub off the Daubs of White and Red;
And smooth the Furrows in her Front,
With greasy Paper stuck upon't.
She takes a Bolus e'er she sleeps;
And then between two Blankets creeps.
With pains of love tormented lies;
Or if she chance to close her Eyes,
Of Bridewell and the Compter dreams,
And feels the Lash, and faintly screams;
Or, by a faithless Bully drawn,
At some Hedge-Tavern lies in Pawn;
Or to Jamaica seems transported,
Alone, and by no Planter courted;
Or, near Fleet-Ditch's oozy Brinks,
Surrounded with a Hundred Stinks,
Belated, seems on watch to lie,
And snap some Cull passing by;
Or, struck with Fear, her Fancy runs
On Watchmen, Constables and Duns,
From whom she meets with frequent Rubs;
But, never from Religious Clubs;
Whose Favour she is sure to find,
Because she pays them all in Kind.
CORINNA wakes. A dreadful Sight!
Behold the Ruins of the Night!
A wicked Rat her Plaster stole,
Half eat, and dragged it to his Hole.
The Crystal Eye, alas, was miss'd;
And Puss had on her Plumpers piss'd.
A Pigeon pick'd her Issue-Peas;
And Shock her Tresses fill'd with Fleas.
The Nymph, tho' in this mangled Plight,
Must ev'ry Morn her Limbs unite.
But how shall I describe her Arts
To recollect the scatter'd Parts?
Or show the Anguish, Toil, and Pain,
Of gath'ring up herself again?
The bashful Muse will never bear
In such a Scene to interfere.
Corinna in the Morning dizen'd,
Who sees, will spew; who smells, be poison'd.
Submitted by Andrew Mayers
poem by Jonathan Swift
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Faces
Key:-a - anita r - ray
A: look around you
What do those faces tell you?
R: faces, joy and pain
A: faces
All around different faces I see
Some are happy, some in misery
They express joy and pain
No two faces are the same.
R: people, people all over town
Some of them are poor and others wear a crown
Ive seen alot of many faces
Joy and pain in different places
Open your mind, set yourself free
Figure it out, what could it be?
Sympathise, understand
Give love and peace to the other fellow man
A: faces
R: faces, joy and pain
A: look around you
Do you see those faces
What do those faces tell you
A: everywhere I go, different faces I see
A: faces
All around different faces I see
Some are happy, some in misery
They express joy and pain
No two faces are the same.
R: playing with your life, playing with your soul
You all scream out Im the one in control
Killing of the colours, silly stupid games
You know who you are without no names
Dont mess the world cause that the sequal
Open your mind cause we talking about the people
In the world, all kind of places
Different races, different faces
A: different faces
Everywhere
song performed by by 2 Unlimited
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A True Love Goodbye
Roy orbison/norman petty
A young couple stood under stars in the sky
They pledged their love with tears in their eyes
For this was a true love goodbye
They stood there trembling and couldnt speak
She tip toed and kissed his cheek
For this was a true love goodbye
A true love goodbye, they tried not to cry
With words so true, they both said I love you
Then they parted both broken hearted
But theyll meet again some day some way
Beyond this true love goodbye
A true love goodbye, they tried not to cry
With words so true, they both said I love you
Then they parted both broken hearted
But theyll meet again some day some way
Beyond this true love goodbye
True love, true love goodbye
Bye my love....
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kind Hearted Woman
By robert johnson
Ive got a kind hearted woman, she studies evil all the time.
Ive got a kind hearted woman, she studies evil all the time.
You would do to quit me just to have it on your mind.
Ive got a kind hearted woman, do anything in this world for me.
Ive got a kind hearted woman, do anything in this world for me.
But these evil hearted women, lord, and they will not let me be.
Now it aint but one thing makes mr. clapton drink.
I swear about how you treat me baby, I begin to think.
Oh baby, my life dont feel the same.
It breaks my heart when you call mr. so-and-sos name.
Shes a kind hearted woman, she studies evil all the time.
Shes a kind hearted woman, she studies evil all the time.
Youre best to quit me baby as just to have it on your mind.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Corinna
When to her lute Corinna sings,
Her voice revives the leaden strings,
And doth in highest notes appear
As any challenged echo clear.
But when she doth of mourning speak,
Even with her sighs the strings do break.
And as her lute doth live or die;
Led by her passion, so must I.
For when of pleasure she doth sing,
My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring;
But if she doth of sorrow speak,
Even from my heart the strings do break.
poem by Thomas Campion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When to her Lute Corinna Sings
When to her lute Corinna sings,
Her voice revives the leaden strings,
And doth in highest notes appear,
As any challenged echo clear;
But when she doth of mourning speak,
E'en with her sighs, the strings do break,
And as her lute doth live or die,
Led by her passion, so must I:
For when of pleasure she doth sing,
My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring,
But if she doth of sorrow speak,
E'en from my heart the strings do break
poem by Thomas Campion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet 105
Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my beloved as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument,
Fair, kind, and true, varying to other words;
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone,
Which three till now, never kept seat in one.
poem by William Shakespeare from Sonnets (1609)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Blues In My Mind
Fred rose
I ought to hate you for these blues in my mind
What makes me love you, am I losing my mind?
I wonder where Im gonna wind up
I just cant make my crazy mind up
Too many kisses brought me too many tears
Tears that Ill carry with me all through the years
Im just the broken hearted kind
Worrying blues in my mind
Im going crazy with these blues in my mind
How can you just keep on confusing my mind?
Youve got a jealous air about you
Maybe Im better off without you
Still I cant make my heart believe that its true
Trouble with me is having trouble with you
Im just the broken hearted kind
Worrying blues in my mind
Worrying blues in my mind
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel Angel
Angel angel, tell me true-
Is his heart as big and true
As his eyes make me believe?
Angel, angel, tell me please.
Angel, secret friends are rare;
Such kindly faces, liars wear-
But he's a different kind, I think-
Would he stay, if I should blink?
Angel angel, nights are long;
All for him, I'd write my songs;
Angel, whisper in his ear-
Tell him: 'Joy- when you are near.'
poem by Patti Masterman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet 105: Let not my love be called idolatry
Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my belovèd as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.
Kind is my love today, tomorrow kind,
Still constant in a wondrous excellence;
Therefore my verse to constancy confined,
One thing expressing, leaves out difference.
"Fair, kind, and true" is all my argument,
"Fair, kind, and true" varying to other words;
And in this change is my invention spent,
Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords.
Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone.
Which three till now never kept seat in one.
poem by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Upon The Loss Of His Mistresses
I have lost, and lately, these
Many dainty mistresses:--
Stately Julia, prime of all;
Sapho next, a principal:
Smooth Anthea, for a skin
White, and heaven-like crystalline:
Sweet Electra, and the choice
Myrha, for the lute and voice.
Next, Corinna, for her wit,
And the graceful use of it;
With Perilla:--All are gone;
Only Herrick's left alone,
For to number sorrow by
Their departures hence, and die.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Where Do The Broken-hearted Go
I want to know
where do the broken-hearted go
so I go there and live my life so.
We were happy and in love,
but someone else enticed her away.
I got home one day and she was gone.
She had left me for another
with no reason why.
Now I want to know
where do the broken-hearted go
and I will join them there.
Elvis once sang of the heartbreak hotel.
I wonder if it is still open,
if it is I will join the broken hearted there.
There is no way I can get her back
for I don’t know where she is,
only that she is gone
and my life is a total wreck.
The ghost of her presence
still lingers everywhere.
Now I need so desperately to know,
where do the broken-hearted go.
23 November 2008
poem by David Harris
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The Fourth Epigram
On GALLA.
Now liquid Streams by the fierce Cold do grow
As solid as the Rocks from whence they flow;
Now Tibers Banks with Ice united meet,
And it's firm Stream may well be term'd its Street;
Now Vot'ries 'fore the Shrines like Statues show,
And scarce the Men from Images we know;
Now Winters Palsey seizes ev'ry Age,
And none's so warm, but feels the Seasons Rage;
Even the bright Lillies and triumphant Red
Which o're Corinna's youthful cheeks are spred,
Look pale and bleak, and shew a purple hew,
And Violets staine, where Roses lately grew.
Galla alone, with wonder we behold,
Maintain her Spring, and still out-brave the Cold;
Her constant white does not to Frost give place,
Nor fresh Vermillion fade upon her face:
Sure Divine beauty in this Dame does shine?
Not Humane, one reply'd, yet not Divine.
poem by Anne Killigrew
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