Fountain Of Youth
Faith is a fountain of youth and statues,
Once they build the fountain's breath, it devalues.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Fountain Of Love
(words & music by giant - lewis)
One thought of you,
My heart begins churning
I feel return
To a fountain of love
My lips and eyes,
They ache to be near you
To hold you here
In my fountain of love
Never be blue
Should your world start sinking
Just come and drink
From my fountain of love
Well build a new world off
On a high mountain
Well live
On our fountain of love
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ramones own the fountain of youth. Experiencing us is like having the fountain of youth.
quote by Joey Ramone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The fountain of youth with the youthful young musician is one meaning, and the fountain of youth with the youthful energy of the leader is another meaning.
quote by Roy Haynes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fountain Of Filth
There it was
Just like old faithful
The eternal fountain of filthi
I took a walk straight out of town
But then I stopped and took my time for pleasure
I was alone, I looked around
I heard a voice 50 I buckled for safety
And there it was down on the ground
A pool of sound that showed my own reflection
In a fountain of filth
Eternal fountain of filth
I tried to run I couldnt move
Frozen solid while the thoughts of men
Attacked me
Out of my head the fountain shot
And drowned me in a serum that I couldnt
Put a stop to
It was me myself and I locked in a struggle
With the talking head below me
In a fountain of filth
Eternal fountain of filth
I got a hunger that makes me say things
I got a hunger that makes me do things
I got a hunger that makes me want things
Im just a victim of filth
Nowhere are we safe
From the power of
From the reach of
From the appeal of
The eternal fountain of filth
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like A Fountain Of Water
Like a fountain of water
Kissing you throughout
You will like the latter
What it is all about.
Like a fountain of water
Flowing endlessly
Like a waterfall in a far away site
What is its whereabouts?
Like a fountain of water
I dream of you
Forever flowing in my mind
A hand touching my heart.
Like a fountain of water
Expunging the errs in my life
Waiting for fate to strike
It all changes my mind.
poem by Georgia Leana Benedictos
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Licia Sonnets 27
The crystal stream wherein my love did swim,
Melted in tears as partners of my woe;
Her shine was such as did the fountain dim,
The pearl-like fountain whiter than the snow;
Then like perfume, resolvéd with a heat,
The fountain smoked, as if it thought to burn;
A wonder strange to see the cold so great,
And yet the fountain into smoke to turn.
I searched the cause, and found it to be this:
She touched the water, and it burned with love.
Now by her means it purebased hath that bliss,
Which all diseases quickly can remove.
Then if by you these streams thus blesse'd be,
Sweet, grant me love, and be not worse to me.
poem by Giles Fletcher The Elder
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Today... 'The Fountain
Sweet Fountain flowing from David's royal line
in which I can wash this wretched soul of mine.
It removes the deepest stains of sin away
and presents me spotless on the Judgement Day.
'Come to me all you that thirst and drink, ' You said.
'Come and quench your thirst at the Fountain head.'
For the living water that pours out from Me
can cleanse you from all of your iniquity.
So I came to that living fountain of heaven
to be cleansed and all my sins were forgiven.
For there God wiped all of the tears from my eyes
when I stood before the cross of Jesus Christ.
Deep sweet Fountain flowing from heaven above
immersing the world in God's wonderful love.
Lord Jesus Christ You poured out Yourself in death.
When there upon the cross You breathed Your last breath.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the fountain.
quote by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fountain of Your Heart
My love for you is always
abounding with drops of tears
falling on the fountain of your heart.
Our two souls need to reach out
to soak up these drops of tears
from the fountain of your heart.
Words speak I to you
do not reach your mind
or the fountain of your heart.
Our two souls need to reach out
before our love is gone completly
from the fountain of your heart.
Horace iii. 13
O fountain of Bandusia,
Whence crystal waters flow,
With garlands gay and wine I'll pay
The sacrifice I owe;
A sportive kid with budding horns
I have, whose crimson blood
Anon shall dye and sanctify
Thy cool and babbling flood.
O fountain of Bandusia,
The dog-star's hateful spell
No evil brings unto the springs
That from thy bosom well;
Here oxen, wearied by the plough,
The roving cattle here,
Hasten in quest of certain rest
And quaff thy gracious cheer.
O fountain of Bandusia,
Ennobled shalt thou be,
For I shall sing the joys that spring
Beneath yon ilex-tree;
Yes, fountain of Bandusia,
Posterity shall know
The cooling brooks that from thy nooks
Singing and dancing go!
poem by Eugene Field
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Horace II, 13.
O fountain of Blandusia,
Whence crystal waters flow,
With garlands gay and wine I'll pay
The sacrifice I owe;
A sportive kid with budding horns
I have, whose crimson blood
Anon shall die and sanctify
Thy cool and babbling flood.
O fountain of Blandusia,
The dogstar's hateful spell
No evil brings unto the springs
That from thy bosom well;
Here oxen, wearied by the plow,
The roving cattle here,
Hasten in quest of certain rest
And quaff thy gracious cheer.
O fountain of Blandusia,
Ennobled shalt thou be,
For I shall sing the joys that spring
Beneath your ilex tree;
Yes, fountain of Blandusia,
Posterity shall know
The cooling brooks that from thy nooks
Singing and dancing go!
poem by Eugene Field
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To The Fountain Of Bandusia
O fountain of Bandusia!
Whence crystal waters flow,
With garlands gay and wine I'll pay
The sacrifice I owe;
A sportive kid with budding horns
I have, whose crimson blood
Anon shall dye and sanctify
Thy cool and babbling flood.
O fountain of Bandusia!
The Dog-star's hateful spell
No evil brings into the springs
That from thy bosom well;
Here oxen, wearied by the plow,
The roving cattle here
Hasten in quest of certain rest,
And quaff thy gracious cheer.
O fountain of Bandusia!
Ennobled shalt thou be,
For I shall sing the joys that spring
Beneath yon ilex-tree.
Yes, fountain of Bandusia,
Posterity shall know
The cooling brooks that from thy nooks
Singing and dancing go.
poem by Eugene Field
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You were like a angel surrounded with sunshine
In the pool of the fountain
the sky reflect cobalt blue
and shadows fall over the inner court
and there are images sprouting up
whirling in my brain about you and me
in the pool of the fountain
and you were like a angel surrounded with sunshine
and dripping wet we embraced each other there
and shadows fall over the inner court
and even the wind blows with a chorus
and there are pure white lilies that I look at,
in the pool of the fountain
and the time with you was noble, was totally pure
or so everybody was thinking and we kept the countenance of it
and shadows fall over the inner court
drawing the two of us, line after line
and the sky is now reflecting dull blue
in the pool of the fountain
and shadows fall over the inner court.
poem by Gert Strydom
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When The Gloom Is On The Glen
When the moonlight's on the mountain
And the gloom is on the glen,
At the cross beside the fountain
There is one will meet thee then.
At the cross beside the fountain;
Yes, the cross beside the fountain,
There is one will meet thee then!
I have braved, since first we met, love,
Many a danger in my course;
But I never can forget, love,
That dear fountain, that old cross,
Where, her mantle shrouded o'er her—
For the winds were chilly then—
First I met my Leonora,
When the gloom was on the glen.
Many a clime I've ranged since then, love,
Many a land I've wandered o'er;
But a valley like that glen, love,
Half so dear I never sor!
Ne'er saw maiden fairer, coyer,
Than wert thou, my true love, when
In the gloaming first I saw yer,
In the gloaming of the glen!
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Hitchin A Ride
Hey mister, where you headed?
Are you in a hurry?
I need a lift to happy hour say oh no
Do you brake for distilled spirits?
I need a break aswell
The well that inebriates the guilt
1,2,1,2,3,4
Cold turkeys getting stale
Tonight Im eating crow
Fermented salmonella poison oak no
Theres a drought at the fountain of youth
And Im dehydrating
My tongue is swelling up
I say 1,2,1,2,3,4
Troubled times
You know I cannot lie
Im off the wagon and Im hitchin a ride
Theres a drought at the fountain of youth
And now Im dehydrating
My tongue is swelling up
I say
Shit!
Troubled times
You know I cannot lie
Im off the wagon and Im hitchin a ride
Hitchin a ride [*8]
song performed by by Green Day
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Candid With You....
everyone is looking for
that secret garden
with a fountain or spring
where eternal youth can
be taken
everyone is finding a clue
to that perfect hue
something to subdue, and only for the few
that perfect chew
everyone wants to write
the perfect rhyme of a poem
that gluttony of fame
the avarice of shame
today, i take courage in
facing everyone
to tell them
candidly, that there is no such thing
as a secret garden
or that eternal youth of fountain or spring
nothing about a perfect clue to
a perfect hue,
no such thing as a perfect chew
no such thing too as a perfect poem
with that perfect rhyme
there is only you,
always searching,
the imperfect one, always looking for something
that is not you
that is not here
you are you,
you are not perfect
you get old,
and then you die and
then you're gone
that is the truth,
and there is no other.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Lake, The Fountain
by the lake so still so calm
sky-blue cloud-white
more sky than water this autumn day
the air so still above
there a tree leans over the water
as if in thanks
and here a gathering of stones
awaits the offhand lapping of the wavelets
bringing out the many colours of the stones
that remember mountains edging the horizon
with light and shadow through the day
over there a fountain plashes over worn carved stone
fed by a mountain waterfall wild fountain tamed
throwing up a million new-mined diamonds
droplets sparkling like a chandelier
the sun catches turning air and water
into unceasing dance of somehow joy
the still lake the dancing fountain
telling with water two stories
stillness in joy
joy in stillness
as two white-robed nuns who whisper laughing
laughing whisper
in the cool of the evening
beside the fountain
before prayer
and holy silence
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Villanelle: The Psychological Hour
I had over prepared the event,
that much was ominous.
With middle-ageing care
I had laid out just the right books.
I had almost turned down the pages.
Beauty is so rare a thing.
So few drink of my fountain.
So much barren regret,
So many hours wasted!
And now I watch, from the window,
the rain, the wandering busses.
"Their little cosmos is shaken" -
the air is alive with that fact.
In their parts of the city
they are played on by diverse forces.
How do I know?
Oh, I know well enough.
For them there is something afoot.
As for me;
I had over-prepared the event -
Beauty is so rare a thing.
So few drink of my fountain.
Two friends: a breath of the forest. . .
Friends? Are people less friends
because one has just, at last, found them?
Twice they promised to come.
"Between the night and the morning?"
Beauty would drink of my mind.
Youth would awhile forget
my youth is gone from me.
(Speak up! You have danced so stiffly?
Someone admired your works,
And said so frankly.
"Did you talk like a fool,
The first night?
The second evening?"
"But they promised again:
'To-morrow at tea-time'.")
Now the third day is here -
no word from either;
No word from her nor him,
Only another man's note:
"Dear Pound, I am leaving England."
poem by Ezra Pound
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To find joy in work is to discover the fountain of youth.
quote by Pearl S. Buck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Statues And The Tear
All night a fountain pleads,
Telling her beads,
Her tinkling beads monotonous 'neath the moon;
And where she springs atween,
Two statues lean--
Two Kings, their marble beards with moonlight strewn.
Till hate had frozen speech,
Each hated each,
Hated and died, and went unto his place:
And still inveterate
They lean and hate
With glare of stone implacable, face to face.
One, who bade set them here
In stone austere,
To both was dear, and did not guess at all:
Yet with her new-wed lord
Walking the sward
Paused, and for two dead friends a tear let all.
She turn'd and went her way.
Yet in the spray
The shining tear attempts, but cannot lie.
Night-long the fountain drips,
But even slips
Untold that one bead of her rosary:
While they, who know it would
Lie if it could,
Lean on and hate, watching it, eye to eye.
poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
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