Santa Decca
THE Gods are dead: no longer do we bring
To grey-eyed Pallas crowns of olive-leaves!
Demeter's child no more hath tithe of sheaves,
And in the noon the careless shepherds sing,
For Pan is dead, and all the wantoning
By secret glade and devious haunt is o'er:
Young Hylas seeks the water-springs no more;
Great Pan is dead, and Mary's Son is King.
And yet--perchance in this sea-trancèd isle,
Chewing the bitter fruit of memory,
Some God lies hidden in the asphodel.
Ah Love! if such there be then it were well
For us to fly his anger: nay, but see
The leaves are stirring: let us watch a-while.
poem by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
What Child Is This?
What child is this, who laid to rest
on Mary's lap is sleeping?
whom angels greet with anthems sweet
while shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Why lies He in such mean state
where ox and and ass are feeding?
good christian, fear for sinners here
the silent word is pleading
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Nails, spear, shall, pierce him through
the cross be bome, for me, for you
hail, hail, the world made flesh
the babe, the son of Mary
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
So bring him incense, gold and myrrh
come peasant, King to own him
the King of Kings salvation brings
let loving hearts enthrone him
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Raise, raise, the song on high
the Virgin sings her llullaby
joy, joy for Christ is born
the babe, the son of Mary
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Child Is This (While My Guitar)
=====================
What Child Is This?
=====================
What child is this, who, laid to rest,
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King,
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud,
The babe, the son of Mary.
Why lies he in such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding?
Good Christian, fear: for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading.
So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh,
Come, peasant, king, to own him.
the King of kings salvation brings,
Let loving hearts enthrone him.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Dead, All Dead
Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Child Is This?
(William C. Dix/16th Century English Melody)
What child is this who lay to rest
On Mary's lap, is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, Haste, to bring him laud
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
So bring Him incense, gold, and myrrh
Come peasant, king to own Him
The King of Kings salvation brings
Let loving enthrone Him
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, Haste, to bring him laud
The Babe, the Son of Mary
The Babe, the Son of Mary
song performed by by Jo Dee Messina
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Child Is This
What child is this who laid to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping
Whom angels greet with anthem sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping
This is Christ the Lord
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
Why lies he in such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding
Good Christian fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading
This is Christ the Lord
Whom shepards guard and angels sing
Haste,haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
So bring Him incense, gold, and myrh
Come peasant king to own Him
The King of Kings, salvation brings
Let loving hearts enthrone Him
This is Christ the Lord
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song is Not Dead
Song is not dead, although to-day
Men tell us everything is said.
There yet is something left to say,
Song is not dead.
While still the evening sky is red,
While still the morning gold and grey,
While still the autumn leaves are shed,
While still the heart of youth is gay,
And honour crowns the hoary head,
While men and women love and pray
Song is not dead.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Child Is This
(Traditional)
What child is this, who, laid to rest, on Mary's lap, is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet, while shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King, whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud, the Babe, the Son of Mary!
So bring Him incense, gold, and myrrh, come peasant, king to own Him,
The King of kings, salvation brings, let loving hearts enthrone Him.
Raise, raise the song on high, the Virgin sings her lullaby:
Joy, joy, for Christ is born, the Babe, the Son of Mary!
What child is this, who, laid to rest, on Mary's lap, is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet, while shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King, whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud, the Babe, the Son of Mary!
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Defiled
spirits wail in the napalm night,
bodies without faces walk deserted streets.
dreams whisper from cardboard boxes,
ants walk with angel's feet.
the sound of mouth's stricken,
deeper than just need.
the soul of fire shudders,
while glass eyed leeches feed.
history written with grave cost,
we are what we have done.
while outside the door anger lurks,
and the bullet seeks the gun!
gods? i think not....
even demons fear to tread.
the hand takes from its own heart,
and leaves the hunger for dead.
bells ring with hollow haunt,
fear drives the nails in the cross.
even tears of blood cannot repair,
what love defiled leaves as loss!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Forest Pool
LOST amid gloom and solitude,
A pool lies hidden in the wood,
A pool the autumn rain has made
Where flowers with their fair shadows played.
Bare as a beggar's board, the trees
Stand in the water to their knees;
The birds are mute, but far away
I hear a bloodhound's sullen bay.
Blue-eyed forget-me-nots that shook,
Kissed by a little laughing brook,
Kissed too by you with lips so red,
Float in the water drowned and dead.
And dead and drowned 'mid leaves that rot,
Our angel-eyed Forget-me-not,
The love of unforgotten years,
Floats corpse-like in a pool of tears
poem by Mathilde Blind
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Child Is This?
What child is this, who, laid to rest
On Mary's lap, is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
This, this is Christ the King,
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud,
The babe, the son of Mary
The babe, the son of Mary
The babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Child Is This
What child is this who laid to rest
On mary's lap asleeping
Whom angels breed with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch our keeping
This, this is christ the king
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, hastell bring him lord
The babe the son of mary
So bring him incense, bring him gold
Come plesant king to him
The king of kings salvations brings
Let loving hearts enthrone him
Raise, raise the son on high
The virgin sings a lullaby
Joy, joy for christ is born
The babe was son of mary
What child is this who laid to rest
On mary's lap asleeping
Whom angels breed with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch our keeping
Raise, raise the son on high
The virgin sings a lullaby
Joy, joy for christ is born
The babe was son of mary
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Child Is This
(traditional)
What child is this, who laid to rest
On marys lap, is sleeping
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is christ the king,
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud,
The babe, the son of mary
So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh,
Come peasant king to own him,
The king of kings, salvation brings,
Let loving hearts enthrone him.
Raise, raise the song on high,
The virgin sings her lullaby:
Joy, joy, for christ is born,
The babe, the son of mary
Joy, joy, for christ is born,
The babe, the son of mary
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Child Is This
What child is this who laid to rest
On marys lap is sleeping
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping
Chorus:
This, this is christ the king
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of mary
Why lies he in such mean estate
Where ox and cattle are feeding
Good christian fear for sinners here
The silent world is pleading
Repeat chorus:
So bring him incense gold and myrrh
Come peasant king to own him
The king of kings salvation brings
Let loving hearts enthrone him
Repeat chorus:
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Leaves
When these dead leaves were green, love,
November's skies were blue,
And summer came with lips aflame,
The gentle spring to woo;
And to us, wandering hand in hand,
Life was a fairy scene,
That golden morning in the woods
When these dead leaves were green!
How dream-like now that dewy morn,
Sweet with the wattle's flowers,
When love, love, love was all our theme,
And youth and hope were ours!
Two happier hearts in all the land
There were not then, I ween,
Than those young lovers' -- yours and mine --
When these dead leaves were green.
How gaily did you pluck these leaves
From the acacia's bough,
To mark the lyric we had read --
I can repeat it now!
While came the words, like music sweet,
Your smiling lips between --
"So fold my love within your heart,"
When these dead leaves were green!
How many springs have passed since then?
Ah, wherefore should we count,
The years that sped, like waters fled
From Time's unstaying fount?
We've had our share of happiness,
Our share of care have seen;
But love alone has never flown
Since these dead leaves were green.
Your heart is kind and loving still,
Your face to me as fair,
As when, that morn, the sunshine played
Amid your golden hair.
So, dearest, sweethearts still we'll be,
As we have ever been,
And keep our love as fresh and true
As when these leaves were green.
poem by Edward Booth Loughran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Child of the Snows
There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim,
And never before or again,
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,
And the dark is alive with rain.
Never we know but in sleet and in snow,
The place where the great fires are,
That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth
And the heart of the earth a star.
And at night we win to the ancient inn
Where the child in the frost is furled,
We follow the feet where all souls meet
At the inn at the end of the world.
The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,
For the flame of the sun is flown,
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Bohemian Folk-Song
(From the French)
The moon was in the sky,
Pale, pale her light had grown
I went into the forest
All alone.
All alone,
My heart was well-nigh glad,
But when I thought of thee
Grief came and made me sad.
It came with the winds of autumn
When the dead leaves drop from the tree,
Because thy heart hath forgotten
Thy lover afar from thee.
It came with the rain fast falling
Through the dead leaves again,
Because that over a dead love
The heart must weep like rain.
poem by Arthur Symons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Child of the Snows
There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim,
And never before or again,
When the nights are strong with a darkness long,
And the dark is alive with rain.
Never we know but in sleet and in snow,
The place where the great fires are,
That the midst of the earth is a raging mirth
And the heart of the earth a star.
And at night we win to the ancient inn
Where the child in the frost is furled,
We follow the feet where all souls meet
At the inn at the end of the world.
The gods lie dead where the leaves lie red,
For the flame of the sun is flown,
The gods lie cold where the leaves lie gold,
And a Child comes forth alone.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wilderness
I came too late to the hills: they were swept bare
Winters before I was born of song and story,
Of spell or speech with power of oracle or invocation,
The great ash long dead by a roofless house, its branches rotten,
The voice of the crows an inarticulate cry,
And from the wells and springs the holy water ebbed away.
A child I ran in the wind on a withered moor
Crying out after those great presences who were not there,
Long lost in the forgetfulness of the forgotten.
Only the archaic forms themselves could tell!
In sacred speech of hoodie on gray stone, or hawk in air,
Of Eden where the lonely rowan bends over the dark pool.
Yet I have glimpsed the bright mountain behind the mountain,
Knowledge under the leaves, tasted the bitter berries red,
Drunk water cold and clear from an inexhaustible hidden fountain.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Child Is This
What child is this
that lay to rest
on Mary's lap is sleeping
Whom Angels greet with anthem sweet
and shepard's watch are keeping
This , this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
and Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
So bring him incence, gold and merth
Come peasants king to honor him
The King of Kings salvation brings
and loving arms enthrone him
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
And Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
and Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
What Child Is This
What child is this
that lay to rest
on Mary's lap is sleeping
Whom Angels greet with anthem sweet
and shepard's watch are keeping
This , this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
and Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
So bring him incence, gold and merth
Come peasants king to honor him
The King of Kings salvation brings
and loving arms enthrone him
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
And Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepards guard
and Angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him love
The babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!