The Stream.
God but knows what path
This small stream must take,
Through what gleams and glooms
Which the years shall make.
In what ways austere
May these waters glide
Ere they have their part
In the timeless tide!
poem by Robert Crawford
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Related quotes
Dreams Dreams Dreams
I dream of you, dreaming of me
In thy imagination, lovely and free
Astray on a unimaginable path
Where me and you are all we hath
Dreaming of dreams that should be
The mind of you to bind with me
In my dreams its thou I see
I see thou with my harmony
Dreams, Dreams, Dreams
Gleams, Gleams, Gleams
Gleams of you and gleams of me
In dreams of you in dreams of me
The gleams that hope
The gleams that elope
You to me and me to you
In dreams, dreams come true!
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Will You Come Along With Me?
I.
Will you come along with me,
In the fresh spring-tide,
My comforter to be
Through the world so wide?
Will you come and learn the ways
A student spends his days,
On the bonny, bonny braes
Of our ain burnside?
II.
For the lambs will soon be here,
In the fresh spring-tide;
As lambs come every year
On our ain burnside.
Poor things, they will not stay,
But we will keep the day
When first we saw them play
On our ain burnside.
III.
We will watch the budding trees
In the fresh spring-tide,
While the murmurs of the breeze
Through the branches glide.
Where the mavis builds her nest,
And finds both work and rest,
In the bush she loves the best,
On our ain burnside.
IV.
And the life we then shall lead
In the fresh spring-tide,
Will make thee mine indeed,
Though the world be wide.
No stranger’s blame or praise
Shall turn us from the ways
That brought us happy days
On our ain burnside.
poem by James Clerk Maxwell
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Remembrance of Collins
Composed upon the Thames near Richmond
Glide gently, thus for ever glide,
O Thames! that other bards may see
As lovely visions by thy side
As now, fair river! come to me.
O glide, fair stream! for ever so,
Thy quiet soul on all bestowing,
Till all our minds for ever flow
As thy deep waters now are flowing.
Vain thought!--Yet be as now thou art,
That in thy waters may be seen
The image of a poet's heart,
How bright, how solemn, how serene!
Such as did once the Poet bless,
Who murmuring here a later ditty,
Could find no refuge from distress
But in the milder grief of pity.
Now let us, as we float along,
For 'him' suspend the dashing oar;
And pray that never child of song
May know that Poet's sorrows more.
How calm! how still! the only sound,
The dripping of the oar suspended!
--The evening darkness gathers round
By virtue's holiest Powers attended.
poem by William Wordsworth
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In Summer Time
When summer time has come, and all
The world is in the magic thrall
Of perfumed airs that lull each sense
To fits of drowsy indolence;
When skies are deepest blue above,
And flow'rs aflush,--then most I love
To start, while early dews are damp,
And wend my way in woodland tramp
Where forests rustle, tree on tree,
And sing their silent songs to me;
Where pathways meet and path ways part,--
To walk with Nature heart by heart,
Till wearied out at last I lie
Where some sweet stream steals singing by
A mossy bank; where violets vie
In color with the summer sky,--
Or take my rod and line and hook,
And wander to some darkling brook,
Where all day long the willows dream,
And idly droop to kiss the stream,
And there to loll from morn till night--
Unheeding nibble, run, or bite--
Just for the joy of being there
And drinking in the summer air,
The summer sounds, and summer sights,
That set a restless mind to rights
When grief and pain and raging doubt
Of men and creeds have worn it out;
The birds' song and the water's drone,
The humming bees' low monotone,
The murmur of the passing breeze,
And all the sounds akin to these,
That make a man in summer time
Feel only fit for rest and rhyme.
Joy springs all radiant in my breast;
Though pauper poor, than king more blest,
The tide beats in my soul so strong
That happiness breaks forth in song,
And rings aloud the welkin blue
With all the songs I ever knew.
O time of rapture! time of song!
How swiftly glide thy days along
Adown the current of the years,
Above the rocks of grief and tears!
'Tis wealth enough of joy for me
In summer time to simply be.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Holy Mountain
From this small mountain
folded valleys glide
to shining waters.
Flowing like quicksilver,
dark rivers run free
to the sun-drenched sea.
This is my holy mountain.
I seek your gentle voice
where the small birds rest
on thin branches.
See how their breath
arouses the storm?
Fluttering wings
can make shudder the world,
to passion stir vast
twisting winds.
Though I am small
and dying,
make of me
a pillar of fire,
and I’ll descend from these heights
to flood the dark valleys
with your living light.
poem by Steven Federle
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To the River Charles
River! that in silence windest
Through the meadows, bright and free,
Till at length thy rest thou findest
In the bosom of the sea!
Four long years of mingled feeling,
Half in rest, and half in strife,
I have seen thy waters stealing
Onward, like the stream of life.
Thou hast taught me, Silent River!
Many a lesson, deep and long;
Thou hast been a generous giver;
I can give thee but a song.
Oft in sadness and in illness,
I have watched thy current glide,
Till the beauty of its stillness
Overflowed me, like a tide.
And in better hours and brighter,
When I saw thy waters gleam,
I have felt my heart beat lighter,
And leap onward with thy stream.
Not for this alone I love thee,
Nor because thy waves of blue
From celestial seas above thee
Take their own celestial hue.
Where yon shadowy woodlands hide thee,
And thy waters disappear,
Friends I love have dwelt beside thee,
And have made thy margin dear.
More than this;--thy name reminds me
Of three friends, all true and tried;
And that name, like magic, binds me
Closer, closer to thy side.
Friends my soul with joy remembers!
How like quivering flames they start,
When I fan the living embers
On the hearth-stone of my heart!
'T is for this, thou Silent River!
That my spirit leans to thee;
Thou hast been a generous giver,
Take this idle song from me.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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You're Too Funny
I'll make you a deal!
How does that sound?
This is what I will and can do for you...
As you keep trying to find ways,
To compare your life to mine.
I will do the best I can,
Not to find you completely ridiculous!
Although what I can not do...
Is to sit with my lips sealed,
As I watch you make efforts
To prove your endeavors...
Will make a difference or make any sense.
I have to admit,
What you are doing is totally hilarious.
How come you didn't warn me?
You're too funny!
You ever try your hand at stand up comedy?
Go over that part again.
That part about how you and your family,
Spent years living in a cubicle of an apartment.
And for eights years,
You and your mother, father AND sister slept...
On one mattress?
That's precious.
That is just too precious.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Waiting
Serene, I fold my hands and wait
Nor care for wind, or tide, or sea;
I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
For lo! my own shall come to me.
I stay my haste, I make delays,
For what avails this eager pace?
I stand amid the eternal ways,
And what is mine shall know my face.
Asleep, awake, by night or day,
The friends I seek are seeking me;
No wind can drive my hark astray,
Nor change the tide of destiny.
What matter if I stand alone?
I wait with joy the coming years;
My heart shall reap where it has sown,
And garner up its fruit of tears.
The waters know their own and draw
The brook that springs in yonder height,
So flows the good with equal law
Unto the soul of pure delight.
The stars come nightly to the sky;
The tidal wave unto the sea;
Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me.
poem by John Burroughs (1876)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I have tried, in all the ways I can, to make timeless music.
quote by Judy Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Works-Catacombs of Natural Beauty
The skies gentler shade than the seas
is hidden momentarily in the breeze.
The clouds that are colourfully crystallised
by the warm beckoning sun in our eyes.
The little bird that swoops and dives
flies the freeways of the skies.
While deep in the evergreen below,
the breeze bends flowers to and fro.
As gentle waters of the stream
reflects the sun in diamond shaped gleams.
As beneath the rippling waters surface
algae and underwater weed is spread out like a velvet green sash.
(Date Written Unknown)
poem by David Harris
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Divided
You are divided
For now, for now
You are divided
For now, for now
You are divided
I have a wish, I want to learn
I wish to see, and I want to affirm
That what I see in reflection day to day
Isnt all I am
Say what you see
When you close your eyes and glide
The only shell who could
Circumvent the tide
Sheds of himself
That tells us what he knows
And a piece of him will stay
When the rest of him
Goes
You are divided
For now, for now
You are divided
You are divided
For now, for now
You are divided
I have a wish, I want to learn
I wish to see, and I want to affirm
That what is here, broken record everyday
Isnt all there is
Say what you see, when you close your eyes and glide
The only shell, to circumvent the tide
Shells out himself, and tells us what he knows
A piece of him will stay
A piece of him to stay, helps me grow
The piece of you
That makes you, you
That part stays
You are divided
The piece of you
That makes you, you
That part stays
You are divided
Ahhhhh, ahhhh
Youre only divided
The piece of you
That makes you, you
That piece stays
You are divided
The piece of you
That makes you, you
Dont be afraid
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Touch us gently, Time! Let us glide adown thy stream, Gently, - as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream!
quote by Barry Cornwall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Palanquin Bearers
Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,
She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,
She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream.
Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.
Softly, O softly we bear her along,
She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.
Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Well, It Worked For Me
First thing I say each night
is
I am my own Lover;
my own best friend.
At first it was words
I did not mean
but over time
I could fill in detail
from little things
that happened each day.
Something positive to celebrate
no matter how small
a smile
a thing small but done
a sincere feeling
given and received.
Busy, I was
saying to my self
each night
building
the person
I want to become.
I added to this
just a small dream list
and acted as though
part of it was true
or coming true
and I found
done each night
my part wish
part recognition
of my small things day
could make part
of my small dreams
also come true.
So over time
I could become
not only Someone
but I could be
the kind of person
I was looking for.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Song for a German Air
Fair stream of the mountain, brightly flowing
Between thy fresh margins, gay with flowers,
Life's uncertain visions showing;
Thus, like thy waters glide past the hours.
Oft on thy sunny banks I lie
And mark the waves that glitter by
With fleeting joy and brightness glowing.
Fair stream! when no more near thee reclining,
I gaze and lament for moments gone—
Cold and silent, past repining—
Still thy clear way thou wilt murmur on:
Still will thy roses bloom anew,
Though I no more their beauty view,
And yonder sun as bright be shining!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Bridge Over Troubled Waters
When You're Weary Feelin' Small
When Tears Are In Your Eyes I Will Dry Them All
I'm On Your Side Oh When Times Get Rough
And Friends Just Can't Be Found
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Lay Me Down
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Lay Me Down
When You're Down And Out When You're On The Street
When Evening Falls So Hard I Will Comfort You
I'll Take Your Part Oh When Darkness Comes
And Pain Is All Around
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Lay Me Down
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Lay Me Down
Sail On Children Sail On By
Your Time Has Come To Shine All Their Dreams Are On Their Way
See How They Shine Oh When You Need A Friend
I'm Sailing Right Behind
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Ease Your Mind
Like A Bridge Over Troubled Waters
I Will Ease Your Mind
I'll Ease Your Mind
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes from You Light Up My Life
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fish, The
In a cool curving world he lies
And ripples with dark ecstasies.
The kind luxurious lapse and steal
Shapes all his universe to feel
And know and be; the clinging stream
Closes his memory, glooms his dream,
Who lips the roots o' the shore, and glides
Superb on unreturning tides.
Those silent waters weave for him
A fluctuant mutable world and dim,
Where wavering masses bulge and gape
Mysterious, and shape to shape
Dies momently through whorl and hollow,
And form and line and solid follow
Solid and line and form to dream
Fantastic down the eternal stream;
An obscure world, a shifting world,
Bulbous, or pulled to thin, or curled,
Or serpentine, or driving arrows,
Or serene slidings, or March narrows.
There slipping wave and shore are one,
And weed and mud. No ray of sun,
But glow to glow fades down the deep
(As dream to unknown dream in sleep);
Shaken translucency illumes
The hyaline of drifting glooms;
The strange soft-handed depth subdues
Drowned colour there, but black to hues,
As death to living, decomposes --
Red darkness of the heart of roses,
Blue brilliant from dead starless skies,
And gold that lies behind the eyes,
The unknown unnameable sightless white
That is the essential flame of night,
Lustreless purple, hooded green,
The myriad hues that lie between
Darkness and darkness! . . .
And all's one.
Gentle, embracing, quiet, dun,
The world he rests in, world he knows,
Perpetual curving. Only -- grows
An eddy in that ordered falling,
A knowledge from the gloom, a calling
Weed in the wave, gleam in the mud --
The dark fire leaps along his blood;
Dateless and deathless, blind and still,
The intricate impulse works its will;
His woven world drops back; and he,
Sans providence, sans memory,
Unconscious and directly driven,
Fades to some dank sufficient heaven.
O world of lips, O world of laughter,
Where hope is fleet and thought flies after,
Of lights in the clear night, of cries
That drift along the wave and rise
Thin to the glittering stars above,
You know the hands, the eyes of love!
The strife of limbs, the sightless clinging,
The infinite distance, and the singing
Blown by the wind, a flame of sound,
The gleam, the flowers, and vast around
The horizon, and the heights above --
You know the sigh, the song of love!
But there the night is close, and there
Darkness is cold and strange and bare;
And the secret deeps are whisperless;
And rhythm is all deliciousness;
And joy is in the throbbing tide,
Whose intricate fingers beat and glide
In felt bewildering harmonies
Of trembling touch; and music is
The exquisite knocking of the blood.
Space is no more, under the mud;
His bliss is older than the sun.
Silent and straight the waters run.
The lights, the cries, the willows dim,
And the dark tide are one with him.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fish
In a cool curving world he lies
And ripples with dark ecstasies.
The kind luxurious lapse and steal
Shapes all his universe to feel
And know and be; the clinging stream
Closes his memory, glooms his dream,
Who lips the roots o' the shore, and glides
Superb on unreturning tides.
Those silent waters weave for him
A fluctuant mutable world and dim,
Where wavering masses bulge and gape
Mysterious, and shape to shape
Dies momently through whorl and hollow,
And form and line and solid follow
Solid and line and form to dream
Fantastic down the eternal stream;
An obscure world, a shifting world,
Bulbous, or pulled to thin, or curled,
Or serpentine, or driving arrows,
Or serene slidings, or March narrows.
There slipping wave and shore are one,
And weed and mud. No ray of sun,
But glow to glow fades down the deep
(As dream to unknown dream in sleep);
Shaken translucency illumes
The hyaline of drifting glooms;
The strange soft-handed depth subdues
Drowned colour there, but black to hues,
As death to living, decomposes --
Red darkness of the heart of roses,
Blue brilliant from dead starless skies,
And gold that lies behind the eyes,
The unknown unnameable sightless white
That is the essential flame of night,
Lustreless purple, hooded green,
The myriad hues that lie between
Darkness and darkness! . . .
And all's one.
Gentle, embracing, quiet, dun,
The world he rests in, world he knows,
Perpetual curving. Only - grows
An eddy in that ordered falling,
A knowledge from the gloom, a calling
Weed in the wave, gleam in the mud -
The dark fire leaps along his blood;
Dateless and deathless, blind and still,
The intricate impulse works its will;
His woven world drops back; and he,
Sans providence, sans memory,
Unconscious and directly driven,
Fades to some dank sufficient heaven.
O world of lips, O world of laughter,
Where hope is fleet and thought flies after,
Of lights in the clear night, of cries
That drift along the wave and rise
Thin to the glittering stars above,
You know the hands, the eyes of love!
The strife of limbs, the sightless clinging,
The infinite distance, and the singing
Blown by the wind, a flame of sound,
The gleam, the flowers, and vast around
The horizon, and the heights above -
You know the sigh, the song of love!
But there the night is close, and there
Darkness is cold and strange and bare;
And the secret deeps are whisperless;
And rhythm is all deliciousness;
And joy is in the throbbing tide,
Whose intricate fingers beat and glide
In felt bewildering harmonies
Of trembling touch; and music is
The exquisite knocking of the blood.
Space is no more, under the mud;
His bliss is older than the sun.
Silent and straight the waters run.
The lights, the cries, the willows dim,
And the dark tide are one with him.
poem by Rupert Brooke (1911)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Hindoo Girl’s Song
FLOAT on—float on—my haunted bark,
Above the midnight tide;
Bear softly o'er the waters dark
The hopes that with thee glide.
Float on—float on—thy freight is flowers,
And every flower reveals
The dreaming of my lonely hours,
The hope my spirit feels.
Float on—float on—thy shining lamp,
The light of love, is there;
If lost beneath the waters damp,
That love must then despair.
Float on—beneath the moonlight float
The sacred billows o'er:
Ah, some kind spirit guards my boat,
For it has gained the shore.
poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Small is indeed BIG! ! !
Small brooks together make a big RIVER.
Small giggles together make a big LAUGHTER.
Small mickles together make a big MUCKLE.
Small chuckles together make a big CACKLE.
Small steps together make STAIRCASE.
Small bubbles together make EFFERVESCENCE.
poem by Meetika Srivastava
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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