L'Envoi
We've finished up the filthy war;
We've won what we were fighting for . . .
(Or have we? I don't know).
But anyway I have my wish:
I'm back upon the old Boul' Mich',
And how my heart's aglow!
Though in my coat's an empty sleeve,
Ah! do not think I ever grieve
(The pension for it, I believe,
Will keep me on the go).
So I'll be free to write and write,
And give my soul to sheer delight,
Till joy is almost pain;
To stand aloof and watch the throng,
And worship youth and sing my song
Of faith and hope again;
To seek for beauty everywhere,
To make each day a living prayer
That life may not be vain.
To sing of things that comfort me,
The joy in mother-eyes, the glee
Of little ones at play;
The blessed gentleness of trees,
Of old men dreaming at their ease
Soft afternoons away;
Of violets and swallows' wings,
Of wondrous, ordinary things
In words of every day.
To rhyme of rich and rainy nights,
When like a legion leap the lights
And take the town with gold;
Of taverns quaint where poets dream,
Of cafes gaudily agleam,
And vice that's overbold;
Of crystal shimmer, silver sheen,
Of soft and soothing nicotine,
Of wine that's rich and old,
Of gutters, chimney-tops and stars,
Of apple-carts and motor-cars,
The sordid and sublime;
Of wealth and misery that meet
In every great and little street,
Of glory and of grime;
Of all the living tide that flows --
From princes down to puppet shows --
I'll make my humble rhyme.
So if you like the sort of thing
Of which I also like to sing,
Just give my stuff a look;
And if you don't, no harm is done --
In writing it I've had my fun;
Good luck to you and every one --
And so
Here ends my book.
poem by Robert William Service

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Related quotes
Song For Mary
Written by: james henman
When I try to find
Words that wish to rhyme
I will never write this song for her tonight
We have stood alone
We have walked alone
Wont you help write this song for her tonight
Help me write this song
Help me write this song
Help me write her song
Tonight
When I try to pray
I cant start to say
All those things I wish to say to her tonight
When she hears her song
She will sing along
She will know the words her heart for me to find
Will you help write this song
Help me write this song
Help me sing her song
Tonight
All these words Ive said
Lyin on my bed
Will they help me sleep alone again tonight
And we have walked alone
We have talked alone
Will you help me sing her song for her tonight
Will you help me sing her song
Help me sing her song
Help me sing her song
song performed by by April Wine

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Love Gone Bad
Sing me a song of love...
Sing me a song so sad...
Sing me a song of remembrance...
Sing me a song of love gone bad;
Write the words and the music--
In your own flamboyant sytle-
Accent it with elaborate details--
Fill it with your obvious guile;
Give it a melody thats catchy...
You know-a phrase like refrain...
About loves greatest ecstacy...
About its agony and pain;
And then sing a song of love...
And sing a song so very sad...
Sing me a song to show that you remember...
And sing a song 'bout love gone bad;
Give it all of your verve and elan...
Spice it up with a bit of rhytym and blue...
Make it a song that everyone identifies with...
Make its words right and true;
Make it an anthem...
Or make it a ballad flowing free...
Make sure the words tell it all...
With a most haunting melody;
And then sing a song of love...
Sing me a song of so very sad...
Sing me a song of remembrance...
Sing me a song of love gone bad;
Song Lyrics
June 10,2010
poem by Theodora Onken

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Only You (Can Make My Heart Sing)
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Wasting ‘way days of the past
Wonderin’ where my life would go
So I worried ‘bout tomorrow
In a world so ready to blow
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Use to write songs for the deaf
Songs about my pain and strife
Songs of hate and of confusion
Living death while thinking it life
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Then you’re holy spirit within me
Taught me truth of today
And what your lovin’ means and why I am here
I’m to serve you with all of my heart with all of my mind through your spirit dear
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Now is the time I contend with
Writing every song for you
Praising you for all you have given
Believing in your word of truth
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Only you, only you
Only you, only you can make my heart sing
Only you can make my heart sing
Yes, only you can make my heart sing
poem by Will Fiala

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Fly Me To The Moon
Poets often use many words
To say a simple thing
It takes thoughts and time and rhyme
To make a poem sing
With music and words I've been playing
For you I have written a song
To be sure that you'll know what I'm saying
I'll translate as I go along
Fly me to the moon
And let me play among the stars
Let me see what Spring is like
On Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, darling kiss me
Fill my heart with song
And let me sing for evermore
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you
Fill my heart with song
And let me sing for evermore
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you
song performed by by Nat King Cole

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Other Words
(bart howard)
Poets often use many words
To say a simple thing.
It takes thought and time amd rhyme
To make a poem sing.
With music and words i've been playing
For you, i have written a song.
To be sure that you'll know what i'm saying,
I'll translate as i go along...
Fly me to the moon,
And let me play among the stars.
Let me see what spring is like
On jupiter and mars.
In other words,
Hold my hand.
In other words,
Darling, kiss me.
Fill my heart with song,
And let me sing forever more.
You are all i long for,
All i worship and adore.
In other words,
Please be true.
In other words,
I love you.
~interlude~
Fill my heart with song,
And let sing forever more.
You are all i long for,
All i worship and adore.
In other words
Please be true.
In other words,
I love you.
song performed by by Nat King Cole

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Knew What Poets Know
If I knew what poets know,
Would I write a rhyme
Of the buds that never blow
In the summer-time?
Would I sing of golden seeds
Springing up in ironweeds?
And of rain-drops turned to snow,
If I knew what poets know?
Did I know what poets do,
Would I sing a song
Sadder than the pigeon's coo
When the days are long?
Where I found a heart in pain,
I would make it glad again;
And the false should be the true,
Did I know what poets do.
If I knew what poets know,
I would find a theme
Sweeter than the placid flow
Of the fairest dream:
I would sing of love that lives
On the errors it forgives;
And the world would better grow
If I knew what poets know.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley

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Sing Your Life
Sing your life
Any fool can think of words that rhyme
Many others do
Why dont you ?
Do you want to ?
Oh...
Sing your life
Walk right up to the microphone
And name
All the things you love
All the things that you loathe
Oh, sing your life
The things that you love
And the things you loathe
Oh, sing your life
Oh, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
Others sang your life
But now is a chance to shine
And have the pleasure of
Saying what you mean
Have the pleasure of
Meaning what you sing
Oh, make no mistake my friend
All of this will end
So sing it now (sing your life)
All the things you love (sing your life)
All the things you loathe
Oh, sing your life
The things that you love
And the things you loathe (sing your life)
Oh, sing oh...
Oh, sing oh...
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
La, la-la, la-la, sing your life
Dont leave it all unsaid
Somewhere in the wasteland of your head, oh
Head, oh, head, oh, head, oh
And make no mistake, my friend
Your pointless life will end
But before you go
Can you look at the truth ?
You have a lovely singing voice
A lovely singing voice
And all of those
Who sing on-key
They stole the notion
From you and me
So, sing your life (sing your life)
Sing your life (sing your life)
Oh, sing your oh...
Oh, sing your
Sing your life
Sing your life
Sing your life
Oh, sing your oh...
(sing your life)
(sing your life)
Sing your life
(sing your life)
song performed by by Morrissey

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Thread of Life
I
The irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to me:--
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand
Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band
Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? what hand thy hand?--
And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
And sometimes I remember days of old
When fellowship seemed not so far to seek
And all the world and I seemed much less cold,
And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong and life itself not weak.
II
Thus am I mine own prison. Everything
Around me free and sunny and at ease:
Or if in shadow, in a shade of trees
Which the sun kisses, where the gay birds sing
And where all winds make various murmuring;
Where bees are found, with honey for the bees;
Where sounds are music, and where silences
Are music of an unlike fashioning.
Then gaze I at the merrymaking crew,
And smile a moment and a moment sigh
Thinking: Why can I not rejoice with you?
But soon I put the foolish fancy by:
I am not what I have nor what I do;
But what I was I am, I am even I.
III
Therefore myself is that one only thing
I hold to use or waste, to keep or give;
My sole possession every day I live,
And still mine own despite Time's winnowing.
Ever mine own, while moons and seasons bring
From crudeness ripeness mellow and sanitive;
Ever mine own, till Death shall ply his sieve;
And still mine own, when saints break grave and sing.
And this myself as king unto my King
I give, to Him Who gave Himself for me;
Who gives Himself to me, and bids me sing
A sweet new song of His redeemed set free;
he bids me sing: O death, where is thy sting?
And sing: O grave, where is thy victory?
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti

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The Argument Of His Book
THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes.
I write of youth, of love, and have access
By these to sing of cleanly wantonness.
I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece
Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris.
I sing of Time's trans-shifting; and I write
How roses first came red, and lilies white.
I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing
The court of Mab, and of the fairy king.
I write of Hell; I sing (and ever shall)
Of Heaven, and hope to have it after all.
poem by Robert Herrick

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Sing
Sing, sing a song
Sing out loud
Sing out strong
Sing of good things not bad
Sing of happy not sad
(*) sing, sing a song
Make it simple to last
Your whole life long
Dont worry that its not
Good enough for anyone
Else to hear
Just sing, sing a song
La la la la la
La la la la la la...
Sing, sing a song
Let the world sing along
Sing of love there could be
Sing for you and for me
Repeat (*)
song performed by by Carpenters

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Sing
I sing to vent the pain that is sometimes in me
Other times I sing of happiness, jubilation and glee
Sometimes I sing in celebration and can rock out all night long
I sing of love through every ballad and heart wrenching love song
Sometimes I sing a song that is trapped inside my head
I sing it all day long, sometimes until I go to bed
I sing of memories, songs that mark pages in my past
I sing on holidays, great carols that last and last and last
I sing when I am working, then time doesn’t seem so long
I sing when I am lonely, there’s nothing like the comfort of a song
To me, to sing with all my voice is simply a blast
I hope to sing everyday of my life until I breathe my last
poem by Rhonda Baker

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Im Gonna Sing
Recorded by hank williams, sr.
Words and music by hank williams, sr.
Chorus
When [g] I get to glory, Im gonna sing, sing, sing
Im gonna let the [a7] hallelujahs [d7] ring
[g] Im gonna praise my blessed saviours name
When I get to glory, Im [d7] gonna sing, sing, [g] sing.
[g] in this world of sorrow, Ive seen trouble and woe
When I get to glory [a7] Ill see no [d7] more
For [g] I know my prayers have not been in vain
When I get to glory, Im gonna [d7] sing, sing, [g] sing.
Sometimes I get so weary inside
Then I recall how my jesus died
Up there I know, therell be no pain
When I get to glory, Im gonna sing, sing, sing.
Chorus
Up there no tears will blind my eyes
And Ill walk along by my jesus side
Ill meet my loved ones all once again
When I get to glory, Im gonna sing, sing, sing.
Chorus
song performed by by Hank Williams

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet To Be
A poet I claim not to be,
For words are never there.
In all the years I've tried to write,
I have no words to share.
I sit and think but nothing comes,
No inspiration here.
I want to write of anything,
But still no words I fear.
I read the works of other poets,
I wish I were like them.
How do they write such beautiful lines,
A poet, I'm not him.
I try to write from the heart,
From deep within my soul.
I try to write of the love I have,
But cannot reach my goal.
But why I ask, why can't I write,
Of love so pure and true.
Why can't I write about her eyes,
A mix of green and blue.
I want to write about her smile,
It brightens up my day.
I try to think of anything,
But words I cannot say.
I wish I knew how to write,
A poem with such bliss.
I wish I knew how to describe,
Her soft but tender kiss.
I cannot even begin to write,
How she holds me tight.
How her arms around me,
Makes everything just right.
A poet does not have to think,
The words flow right out.
When I sit and try to write,
I want to scream and shout.
I mean come on, how hard can it be,
To write about her hair.
Such long beautiful natural blonde,
That flows in the air.
I try to write about her laugh,
The words will not fly.
Time passes and finally,
I say it's soft and high.
It's been an hour and a half,
I'm here on verse twelve.
I had to go to Rhymezone,
To find out the rhyme is shelve.
A poet does not do that,
Go online to find a rhyme.
A poet has it in his head,
And can write at any time.
But a poet I am not,
For I cannot write of love.
How the girl I am with,
Is an angel from up above.
How I love her with all my heart,
And want to spend my life with her.
How her love for me is more,
Than I can ever be for sure.
As I draw near the end,
My mind is not so numb.
I realize I've just written of love,
A poet I have become.
poem by Adam McKim

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Villanelle of Ye Young Poet's First Villanelle to his Ladye and Ye Difficulties Thereof
To sing the charms of Rosabelle,
To pour my soul out at her feet,
I try to write this villanelle.
Now I am caught within her spell,
It seems to me most wondrous sweet
To sing the charms of Rosabelle.
I seek in vain for words to tell
My love -- Alas, my muse is weak!
I try to write this villanelle.
Would I had power to compel
The English language incomplete
To sing the charms of Rosabelle.
The ardent thoughts that in me dwell
On paper I would fair repeat
I try to write this villanelle.
My effort fruitless is. O H--l!
I'll tell her all when next we meet.
To sing the charms of Rosabelle,
I tried to write this villanelle.
poem by Eugene O'Neill

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Scribbles Transcribed
Some write for glory and for fame.
I write because I am obsessed
and wordplay is my favourite game.
I concentrate on poetry
Because I find it to my taste
and pass my time creatively.
I could not sit and watch T.V
and live my life vicariously.
That would drive me to insanity.
I have a wide vocabulary
which I love to exercise
Harmless but it amuses me.
What better way to pass the time
than writing formal poetry
I do not find it hard to rhyme
I’ll never be a household name
Which does not bother me at all.
I write for fun and not for fame.
My writing will not make me rich
I very rarely publish it
I merely write to scratch my itch.
My pad and pen accompany me
No matter where I choose to go
Though I scribble illegibly.
Record what takes my interest
and jot down anything I see.
When I get home I do my best.
To read the jottings I have made
which is sometimes difficult
as pencilled words tend to fade.
I find that if I persevere
for long enough I understand
enough to make it very clear.
I sometimes wish that I could write
In a clear and cursive script
If I had perhaps I might.
But I am too impatient to write
All of down the things I want to
My scribbling will have to do.
Thank God for printers and P.Cs
So when I post its legible
and you can read my verse with ease.
The feed back which you give to me.
I read with greatest interest.
And it improves my poetry.
My hand writing will never be
capable of being read
by anybody else but me..
(18-Jun-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Tin Soldiers
I'm... a little tin soldier that wants to jump into the fight
Yes you, your a look in your eye, a dream passing by in the sky
Now I don't understand
But all I need is treat me like a man
'Cause I ain't got no child, take me like I am
I've got to know I'm in love with you
Do anything that you want me to
Sing any song that you want me to
Sing it to you
All I need, is your whispered "hello", smiles melting from your window
Your eyes, are deeper than time, sailing on that with the breeze
So now I've lost my way
I need her to show me things to say
Give me your love, before love fades away
I've got to know I'm in love with you
Do anything that you want me to
Sing any song that you want me to
Sing it to you
I don't need no... compensation
And I just got to beg you, listen
I just got to beg you
I've got to know I'm in love with you
Do anything that you want me to
Sing any song that you want me to
Sing it to you (watch out)
I just want some reaction
Someone to give me satisfaction
All I've gotta to do is stay next to you
Some reaction
A little bit of satisfaction
All I'm gonna do is get next to you
I've got to know I'm in love with you
Do anything that you want me to
Sing any song that you want me to
Sing it to you
I've got to know I'm in love with you (yes I am)
Do anything that you want me to (I'm gonna sing her a song)
Sing any song that you want me to (right on ta you)
Sing it to you (Yeah yeah)
I've got to know I'm in love with you (yes I do)
Do anything that you want me to
Sing any song that you want me to
Sing it to you
song performed by by Quiet Riot

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Imperfect Song
It may not be a misery to sing at all,
To sing life's imperfect song,
For if us mortals love or sing,
It is what keeps us from our perfect dream
Life's imperfect song goes on day by day,
But our grief may be set best that way,
As if a music box lost its key,
That's is my life long song of Misery
Misery leaves you like a broken frame,
Guilt and sorrow swallows the pain,
You run from it, but knowing that you can't hide,
Until, the day you run insane
As time passes, I watch you grow,
Still refusing to sing of tomorrow,
Your life long song, now complete,
My child don't wish, go to sleep.
New Year's Chimes
What is the song the stars sing?
(And a million songs are as song of one)
This is the song the stars sing:
(Sweeter song's none)
One to set, and many to sing,
(And a million songs are as song of one)
One to stand, and many to cling,
The many things, and the one Thing,
The one that runs not, the many that run.
The ever new weaveth the ever old,
(And a million songs are as song of one)
Ever telling the never told;
The silver saith, and the said is gold,
And done ever the never done.
The chase that's chased is the Lord o' the chase,
(And a million songs are as song of one)
And the pursued cries on the race;
And the hounds in leash are the hounds that run.
Hidden stars by the shown stars' sheen:
(And a million suns are but as one)
Colours unseen by the colours seen,
And sounds unheard heard sounds between,
And a night is in the light of the sun.
An ambuscade of lights in night,
(And a million secrets are but as one)
And anight is dark in the sun's light,
And a world in the world man looks upon.
Hidden stars by the shown stars' wings,
(And a million cycles are but as one)
And a world with unapparent strings
Knits the stimulant world of things;
Behold, and vision thereof is none.
The world above in the world below,
(And a million worlds are but as one)
And the One in all; as the sun's strength so
Strives in all strength, glows in all glow
Of the earth that wits not, and man thereon.
Braced in its own fourfold embrace
(And a million strengths are as strength of one)
And round it all God's arms of grace,
The world, so as the Vision says,
Doth with great lightning-tramples run.
And thunder bruiteth into thunder,
(And a million sounds are as sound of one)
From stellate peak to peak is tossed a voice of wonder,
And the height stoops down to the depths thereunder,
And sun leans forth to his brother-sun.
And the more ample years unfold
(With a million songs as song of one)
A little new of the ever old,
A little told of the never told,
Added act of the never done.
Loud the descant, and low the theme,
(A million songs are as song of one)
And the dream of the world is dream in dream,
But the one Is is, or nought could seem;
And the song runs round to the song begun.
This is the song the stars sing,
(Tonèd all in time)
Tintinnabulous, tuned to ring
A multitudinous-single thing
(Rung all in rhyme).
poem by Francis Thompson

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Sing Your Praise To The Lord
Sing your praise to the lord,
Come on everybody,
Stand up and sing...one more
Hallelujah,
Give your praise to the lord,
I can never tell you,
Just how much good...that its
Gonna do ya
Just to sing...anew...
The song your heart first learned to sing when he
First gave his life...to you...
The life goes on and so must the song,
You gotta sing...again...
The song born in your soul when you
First gave your heart...to him...
Sing his praises, once more
Sing your praise to the lord,
Come on everybody,
Stand up and sing...one more
Hallelujah,
Give your praise to the lord,
I can never tell you,
Just how much good...that its
Gonna do ya
Just to sing...aloud...
The song that someone is dying to hear
Down in the maddning crowd...
As you once were before your heard the song,
You gotta let them know...
The truth is a life to shine upon the way,
So maybe they...can go...
Sing his praises, once more
Sing your praise to the lord,
Come on everybody,
Stand up and sing...one more
Hallelujah,
Give your praise to the lord,
I can never tell you,
Just how much good...that its
Gonna do ya
Just to let the name of the lord...
Be praise, both for now, and evermore,
Praise him all ye servants,
Give him praise to the lord,
Come on everybody,
Stand up and sing...one more
Hallelujah,
Give your praise to the lord,
I can never tell you,
Just how much good...that its
Gonna do ya
Just to sing, sing sing...
Come on, sing, sing, sing...
I can hear you now, sing, sing, sing...
song performed by by Amy Grant

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonesome Cell
Once in a blue moon,
I'll write a romantic tune.
The song will be special for the one I love,
I'll sing it to her soon.
I'll sing it from the roof top,
I'll sing it all night, none-stop.
The police may come and arrest me,
but my baby, she will stay free.
Free to write me in jail,
of nice things she will tell.
My love song I will wail,
from my lonesome cell.
One day I will be set free,
once again I can sing my romantic song.
Maybe I should make a CD,
then nothing really could go wrong.
poem by David Darbyshire

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