The Actor
Enthusiastic was the crowd
That hailed him with delight;
The wine was bright, the laughter loud
And glorious the night.
But when at dawn he drove away
With echo of their cheer,
To where his little daughter lay,
Then he knew-- Fear.
How strangely still the house! He crept
On tip-toe to the bed;
And there she lay as if she slept
With candles at her head.
Her mother died to give her birth,
An angel child was she;
To him the dearest one on earth . . .
How could it be?
'O God! If she could only live,'
He thought with bitter pain,
'How gladly, gladly would I give
My glory and my gain.
I have created many a part,
And many a triumph known;
Yet here is one with breaking heart
I play alone.'
Beside the hush of her his breath
Came with a sobbing sigh.
He babbled: 'Sweet, you play at death . . .
'Tis I who die.'
poem by Robert William Service
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Related quotes
Angel Of Mercy
Well theres a peter pan moon shepards delight
I got to drag in at noon and won the fight
I want my reward in heaven tonight
Just like you promised
Angel of mercy youll come to no harm
Angel of mercy theres no need for alarm
The knight in his armor wants a night in your arms
You know hes honest
Angel of mercy angel delight
Give me my reward in heaven tonight
And if I give up my sword wont you give me the right sweet angel
Well now its too late for talking we can talk later on
Let the saxophone play us until the chorus of dawn
All I need is a little oblivion
You dont need protection
Here comes the moonlight down on your bed
Angel of mercy let your heart rule your head
I dont want your money I want you instead
Dont need rejection
Angel of mercy angel delight
Give me my reward in heaven tonight
And if I give up my sword wont you give me the right
Angel of mercy give me heaven tonight
Well if you cross your heart and spit
And swear upon the grave of your mother
You got to get in the hit
Tell me that Im your all night lover
Angel of mercy angel delight
Give me my reward in heaven tonight
And if I give up my sword wont you give me the right
Angel of mercy give me heaven tonight
Angel of mercy angel delight
Give me my reward in heaven tonight
And if I give up my sword wont you give me the right
Angel of mercy give me heaven tonight
song performed by by Dire Straits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Son
He hurried away, young heart of joy, under our Devon sky!
And I watched him go, my beautiful boy, and a weary woman was I.
For my hair is grey, and his was gold; he'd the best of his life to live;
And I'd loved him so, and I'm old, I'm old; and he's all I had to give.
Ah yes, he was proud and swift and gay, but oh how my eyes were dim!
With the sun in his heart he went away, but he took the sun with him.
For look! How the leaves are falling now, and the winter won't be long. . . .
Oh boy, my boy with the sunny brow, and the lips of love and of song!
How we used to sit at the day's sweet end, we two by the firelight's gleam,
And we'd drift to the Valley of Let's Pretend, on the beautiful river of Dream.
Oh dear little heart! All wealth untold would I gladly, gladly pay
Could I just for a moment closely hold that golden head to my grey.
For I gaze in the fire, and I'm seeing there a child, and he waves to me;
And I run and I hold him up in the air, and he laughs and shouts with glee;
A little bundle of love and mirth, crying: "Come, Mumsie dear!"
Ah me! If he called from the ends of the earth I know that my heart would hear.
Yet the thought comes thrilling through all my pain: how worthier could he die?
Yea, a loss like that is a glorious gain, and pitiful proud am I.
For Peace must be bought with blood and tears, and the boys of our hearts must pay;
And so in our joy of the after-years, let us bless them every day.
And though I know there's a hasty grave with a poor little cross at its head,
And the gold of his youth he so gladly gave, yet to me he'll never be dead.
And the sun in my Devon lane will be gay, and my boy will be with me still,
So I'm finding the heart to smile and say: "Oh God, if it be Thy Will!"
poem by Robert William Service
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Sweet Head
I tried to break away from you
From the spics and blacks and the gum you chew
Where the posters are torn by the muggin gangs
By the faggy parks and the burnt out vans
Ive got 99 years of laying in the dark and Im far too young to lie
Ive got 99 ways to play my guitar its going to pay me before I die
So bob your sweet head
Brother ziggy going to play
Im just about the best you can hear
Gonna rock it in your head
Shazam and come ball
With my guitar and mr. bang o
We can give you sweet head
Im tough as glass and clean as night
Well if looks can love we can love all right
Im your rubber peacock angelic whore
Im a wrought iron face upon the wall
I had 99 days of murder come life and Im running away from it all
I got a bedroom every mirror in town theyre going to claim me if I fall
So bob your sweet head
Brother ziggy going to play
Im just about the best you can hear
Gonna rock it in your head
Shazam and come ball
With my guitar and mr. bang o
We can give you sweet head
Sweet head
Give you sweet head
While you down there
See my eyes of blocked emotion, see my tremble, see my fall
Traumatics thick and fast, your faith in me can last
Besides Im known to lay you, one and all
Look south the way your mother dwells
If she knew whats going down, shed give you hell
Im the kind of man she warned me of
Till there was rock you only had god
You and I have a mutual vow we both like young, and we both like loud
I got pretty shoes and Im kid and proud Im street side out with my ear to the crowd
So bob your sweet head
Brother ziggy going to play
Im just about the best you can hear
Its gonna rock it in your head
Shazam and come ball
With my guitar and mr. bang o
We can give you a sweet head
Move along sir
Ho
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Night Ride
The red sun on the lonely lands
Gazed, under clouds of rose,
As one who under knitted hands
Takes one last look and goes.
Then Pain, with her white sister Fear,
Crept nearer to my bed:
"The sands are running; dost thou hear
Thy sobbing heart?" she said.
There came a rider to the gate,
And stern and clear spake he:
"For meat or drink thou must not wait,
But rise and ride with me."
I waited not for meat or drink,
Or kiss, or farewell kind --
But oh! my heart was sore to think
Of friends I left behind.
We rode o'er hills that seemed to sweep
Skyward like swelling waves;
The living stirred not in their sleep,
The dead slept in their graves.
And ever as we rode I heard
A moan of anguish sore --
No voice of man or beast or bird,
But all of these and more.
"Is it the moaning of the Earth?
Dark Rider, answer me!"
"It is the cry of life at birth"
He answered quietly:
"But thou canst turn a face of cheer
To good days still in store;
Thou needst not care for Pain or Fear --
They cannot harm thee more."
Yet I rode on with sullen heart,
And said with breaking breath,
"If thou art he I think thou art,
Then slay me now, O Death!"
The veil was from my eyesight drawn --
"Thou knowest now," said he:
"I am the Angel of the Dawn!
Ride back, and wait for me."
So I rode back at morning light,
And there, beside my bed,
Fear had become a lily white
And Pain a rose of red.
poem by Victor James Daley
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My Heart
List I to the hurried beatings
Of my heart;
How its quickened, loud repeatings
Make me start!
Often do I hear it throbbing
Fast and wild;
As I've heard it, after sobbing,
When a child.
Why so wild, so swift and heated,
Little heart?
Is there something in thee seated,
Baffling art?
Pain with all thy throbs is blended--
Pain so dread!
Oftentimes life seems suspended
By a thread!
Then thou'lt grow so still--like ocean
In its rest;--
Till I scarce can feel a motion
In my breast.
Think'st thy house is dark and dreary,
Veiled in night?
Art thou pining, sad and weary,
For the light?
Wouldst be free from the dominions
That control;
Spreading all thy golden pinions
Toward the goal?
Gladly, gladly, would I free thee
From Earth's thrall!
With what bliss and joy to see thee
Rise o'er all!
But 'tis not for me to aid thee
In thy flight;
For the Holy One who made thee,
Doeth right.
When his own good time arriveth,
Then will He,
From the load with which thou strivest,
Set thee free.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Villanelle For Our Time
From bitter searching of the heart,
Quickened with passion and with pain
We rise to play a greater part.
This is the faith from which we start:
Men shall know commonwealth again
From bitter searching of the heart.
We loved the easy and the smart,
But now, with keener hand and brain,
We rise to play a greater part.
The lesser loyalties depart,
And neither race nor creed remain
From bitter searching of the heart.
Not steering by the venal chart
That tricked the mass for private gain,
We rise to play a greater part.
Reshaping narrow law and art
Whose symbols are the millions slain,
From bitter searching of the heart
We rise to play a greater part.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Steps Of Mary
She was truly blessed at a very young age
To carry our lord and was told his name.
He will be called Jesus and bring salvation to the world
Stories of his birth will be told to every boy and girl.
They will praise his holy name
And their lives will forever change.
When Joseph found out that his
betrothed was with child, and that it wasn’t his.
He decided a quite divorce he would give.
But an angel came to him that night
And told him that it was the son of god
That she would bear.
And to wipe away all his fears.
His faith and belief so strong in god
And what the angel had said
That he put his worries to bed.
She decided to spend some time with
her cousin, who was also with child
Who she had not seen in quite a while.
As she walked into the house
Elizabeth s child kicked with joy
For this was the saviors little boy.
Long before either of their births
The paths had been set, John would
Lead the way, and followers he would get.
He told of the birth of the messiah to all around
As the people listened without making a sound.
He baptized all with water
As this was the lords words and his order.
As Jesus preached throughout the land
Mary watched with a fearful stand.
For she knew in her heart, that this would be
The beginning of man kinds new start.
She knew that her child would be taken away
And to the lord she did pray.
The lord strengthened her heart and her faith
For what was to come, for he was sent down
By his father “ his begotten son”.
The times that lied ahead
Of her fears she would overcome.
And let gods will be done.
Now! No one knew the heartache and pain
That Mary and Joseph would go thru
To see their earthly son tortured and to be put to death
This was the part that they did regret.
But their faith so strong in god above
That they would give up the child that they loved.
Mother Mary ! You had traveled the road
That god had set for you
And this is something that we all must do.
The difference is that we must travel this road
With blind faith, for in our lives, we can not wait.
Give us the strength that god bestowed upon you
So that in our lives we can follow thru.
poem by Louis Rams
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Psalm 92 part 1
A Psalm for the Lord's day.
Sweet is the work, my God, my King,
To praise thy name, give thanks and sing,
To show thy love by morning light,
And talk of all thy truth at night.
Sweet is the day of sacred rest,
No mortal cares shall seize my breast;
O may my heart in tune be found,
Like David's harp of solemn sound!
My heart shall triumph in my Lord,
And bless his works, and bless his word;
Thy works of grace, how bright they shine!
How deep thy counsels! how divine!
Fools never raise their thoughts so high;
Like brutes they live, like brutes they die;
Like grass they flourish, till thy breath
Blast them in everlasting death.
But I shall share a glorious part
When grace hath well refined my heart;
And fresh supplies of joy are shed,
Like holy oil, to cheer my head.
Sin (my worst enemy before)
Shall vex my eyes and ears no more;
My inward foes shall all be slain,
Nor Satan break my peace again.
Then shall I see, and hear, and know
All I desired or wished below;
And every power find sweet employ
In that eternal world of joy.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Mcgimn Sonata
Mother dearest
You live inside of my heart
And inside my heart I made a special place, just for you
So that you could live inside of my heart and be left in peace
Mother dearest
You don't have to worry about pollution and violence
Because there is no pollution or violence inside of my
Heart
Mother dearest
You are now an angel with wings
And inside of my heart you can fly
Mother dearest
Inside of my heart
I created a garden for you so that you could smell the flowers any time That you like
Mother dearest
You can sleep near that pond there
Because near the pond it is always cooler than in the garden
Mother dearest
I forgot to tell you about the sky inside of my heart
In that sky you will see stars that
Shine like diamonds
Mother dearest
I will always love you
From the botton of my heart
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Mcgin Sonata
Mother dearest
You live inside of my heart
And inside my heart I made a special place, just for you
So that you could live inside of my heart and be left in peace
Mother dearest
You don't have to worry about pollution and violence
Because there is no pollution or violence inside of my
Heart
Mother dearest
You are now an angel with wings
And inside of my heart you can fly
Mother dearest
Inside of my heart
I created a garden for you so that you could smell the flowers any time That you like
Mother dearest
You can sleep near that pond there
Because near the pond it is always cooler than in the garden
Mother dearest
I forgot to tell you about the sky inside of my heart
In that sky you will see stars that
Shine like diamonds
Mother dearest
I will always love you
From the botton of my heart
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Far-Far-Away
(For Music)
What sight so lured him thro' the fields he knew
As where earth's green stole into heaven's own hue,
Far-far-away?
What sound was dearest in his native dells?
The mellow lin-lan-lone of evening bells
Far-far-away.
What vague world-whisper, mystic pain or joy,
Thro' those three words would haunt him when a boy,
Far-far-away?
A whisper from his dawn of life? a breath
From some fair dawn beyond the doors of death
Far-far-away?
Far, far, how far? from o'er the gates of birth,
The faint horizons, all the bounds of earth,
Far-far-away?
What charm in words, a charm no words could give?
O dying words, can Music make you live
Far-far-away?
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Mcqueen Sonata
Mother dearest
You live inside of my heart
And inside of my heart I made a special place justr for you
So that you could live inside of my heart again and be left in peace
Mother dearest
You don't have to worry about polution and violence
Because there is no polution or violence that you will see inside of my Heart
Mother dearest
You are now my angel with wings that lives inside of my heart
And inside of my heart you will be able to fly if you want too
Mother dearest
Inside of my heart
I created a garden for you so that you could smell the flowers any time That you liked
Mother dearest
You can slep near that pond that is inside of myheart
Because near the pond it is always cooler than in the garden
Mother dearest
I forgot to tell you about the sky inside of my heart
Because in the sky inside of my heart you will see all the stars that will Shine just like diamonds
Mother dearest
I will always love you from the botton of my heart
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Mother’s Last Watch
Written on the occasion of the death of the infant daughter of Her Grace the Duchess of Sutherland.
I.
HARK, through the proudly decorated halls,
How strangely sounds the voice of bitter woe,
Where steps that dread their echo as it falls
Steal silently and sadly to and fro.
There, wither'd lies the bud so lately given,
And, beautiful in grief as when she smiled,
Bow'd 'neath the unexpected stroke of Heaven,
The mourning Mother watches o'er her Child.
II.
'Tis her last Watch! Sleep seals those infant lids,
Dark fall the lashes on that roseleaf cheek-
But oh!--the look is there, which Hope forbids;
Of Death--of Death those heavy eyelids speak!--
'Tis her last Watch!--no more that gentle hand
With cautious love shall curtain out the light--
No more that graceful form shall mutely stand
And bless thy slumbers thro' the shadowy night.
III.
Hush'd is the innocent heart which throbbing pain,
Vain hope, and vain regret had never moved.
The God who gave hath claim'd his gift again,
And angels welcome her, on earth so loved.
Yet still of hope and fear the endless strife
Within that Mother's bosom faintly swells,
Still, still she gazes on, and dreams of life,
Though the fond falsehood Reason's pow'r repels.
IV.
Unheard each word of comfort faintly falls
From lips whose tones in other days were dear,
Her infant's smile is all her heart recalls,--
Her infant's voice is all her heart can hear;--
She clasps its hand, the feverish glow of hers
Wakes into warmth the freezing current's flow;
She bends,--her sobbing breath a ringlet stirs
With mimic life upon its pallid brow.
V.
Oh! what a mournful thing is human love!
In happier days of hope and bliss gone by
The Mother's heart with pitying throb would move
If but a teardrop dimm'd that laughing eye:
And now she prays that Heaven the boon may give
To hear from those pale lips a cry of pain--
Aught that could bid her sinking soul revive,
And tell the mourner thou wert hers again!
VI.
Ah ! never more that dream of hope may be!--
The summer breeze among the boughs shall wave,
The summer sun beam bright o'er land and lea,
But thou, no spring shall wake thee from the grave!
No more those little rosy lips shall greet
With brightly sudden smile her look of pride;
No more with falt'ring steps those fairy feet
Shall totter onward to her cherish'd side.
VII.
All, all is over! See, with painful start
She wakens from her trance to feel the whole,
And know the pang even from thy corse to part--
Thou vainly guarded treasure of her soul!
The hand that, ah! so often hath caress'd,
Aids now to place thee in thy narrow bed!
The last wild kiss upon thy cheek is press'd--
The last fond tear upon thy coffin shed!
And all is hush'd: but oft thro' Life's dull track
(When time her present sorrow hath beguiled)
That pale, sweet brow shall dimly bring us back
The Mother's last Watch o'er her fairy Child!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Everything Have Is Yours
Burton Lane / Harold Adamson
Everything I have is yours
You are part of me
Everything I have is yours
My destiny
I would gladly give the sun to you
If the sun were only mine
I would gladly give the earth to you
And the stars that shine
Everything that I posses
I offer you
Let my dream of happyness
Come through
I'll be happy just to spent my life
Waiting at your backend call
Everything I have is yours
My life
My all
Everything I have is yours
You are part of me
Everything I have is yours
My destiny
I would gladly give the sun to you
If the sun were only mine
I would gladly give the earth to you
And the stars that shine
Everything that I posses
I offer to you
Let my dream of happyness
Come through
I'll be happy just to spent my life
Waiting at your backend call
Everything I have is yours
My life
My all
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everything I Have Is Yours
Burton lane / harold adamson
Everything I have is yours
You are part of me
Everything I have is yours
My destiny
I would gladly give the sun to you
If the sun were only mine
I would gladly give the earth to you
And the stars that shine
Everything that I posses
I offer you
Let my dream of happyness
Come through
Ill be happy just to spent my life
Waiting at your backend call
Everything I have is yours
My life
My all
Everything I have is yours
You are part of me
Everything I have is yours
My destiny
I would gladly give the sun to you
If the sun were only mine
I would gladly give the earth to you
And the stars that shine
Everything that I posses
I offer to you
Let my dream of happyness
Come through
Ill be happy just to spent my life
Waiting at your backend call
Everything I have is yours
My life
My all
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song
I shall not go with pain
Whether you hold me, whether you forget
My little loss and my immortal gain.
O flower unseen, O fountain sealed apart!
Give me one look, one look remembering yet,
Sweet heart.
I shall not go with grief,
Whether you call me, whether you deny
The crowning vintage and the golden sheaf.
O, April hopes that blossom but to close!
Give me one look, one look and so good-bye,
Red rose.
I shall not go with sighs,
But as full-crowned the warrior leaves the fight,
Dawn on his shield and death upon his eyes.
O, life so bitter-sweet and heaven so far!
Give me one look, one look and so good night,
My star.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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I Shall Not Go With Pain
I shall not go with pain
Whether you hold me, whether you forget
My little loss and my immortal gain.
O flower unseen, O fountain sealed apart!
Give me one look, one look remembering yet,
Sweet heart.
I shall not go with grief,
Whether you call me, whether you deny
The crowning vintage and the golden sheaf.
O, April hopes that blossom but to close!
Give me one look, one look and so good-bye,
Red rose.
I shall not go with sighs,
But as full-crowned the warrior leaves the fight,
Dawn on his shield and death upon his eyes.
O, life so bitter-sweet and heaven so far!
Give me one look, one look and so good night,
My star.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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I Wondered What Was Next
So I wondered what was next
As I said good night
I wondered what was next
As I said good night
With head bowed and soul I prayed
These words I said
Please, send the Angels
To guard this, little sleepy head
And as I watched, I sung
Go to sleep, go to sleep
Close those little bright blue eyes
Night-time is coming
The sun is on the far side
Angels are watching
Our vigil to keep
While the Sandman is filling your eyes
It's time for you sleep
Hush-a-bye-baby
Hush-a-bye-sweet
Play time is over for your
Tiny little feet
Close your eyes, baby
Close your eyes, honey
Sleey-time's here
Good night little darling
Good night little dear
As I sung this song
I wondered what would be next
What God has done to my soul?
Because of this child, I confess
I held my daughter's child
while she fell to sleep
And it was there that I started to think
About the stories of my life, the constant agony
There had just been so dang many
The unending strife's
And just like that the tears again,
Came my way
I fought against torrential rains
As I held this child
That has caused love in my life
I fought against my memories of strife
As I struggled trying end my cares
I attemped again to find peace
But where?
A thought passed through my mind
It came almost like a nursery rhyme.
Oh hush-a-bye child
Hush-a-bye child
Look what you've become
The man that loves,
My little ones
And as I sat wondering
Where those words had Just came from?
I heard again
So hush-a-bye child
Hush-a-bye child
Look what you've become
The man that loves everyone
The man that sin can no longer
over run
So I spoke my question
With voice aloud
How can this be?
Hush-a-bye child
Hush-a-bye child
I can see
Hush-a-bye child
Leave the pains of the past
For me
For I have opened the windows
Of Heaven for thee
And poured out this blessing
With-out room enough to recieve
So (hush-a-bye child)
(Hush-a-bye child)
It's time for you to sleep
For even now I Am,
I Am
Baby tending with thee
poem by Clyde Bryson
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What The Poet Wrote
What the Poet Wrote
(Birth over an open grave)
A poet wrote: ”Mothers give birth over an open grave. I thought it was harsh, most
children live long after their mothers die. A young man driving behind me was edgy
wanted to overtake thought I was driving too slow. I kept as far to the right as I could,
he saw his chance, but he was not quick enough, front collision. He wasn’t wearing
seat belt, died on the bonnet of his car. So much blood, dark red and sweet, but his
eyes were open and they saw beyond to a place I have never been. His mother,
a widow, collapsed when the coffin was lowered into a an unfeeling ground, she had
given birth over an open grave. I see a field lit by millions of candles in rows a man
walks among them and ever so often snuffs out light with his thumb and index finger.
But behind him new light appear, sometimes he turn go back and snuffs the new
lights out, mothers who have given birth over an open grave. He is now heading for
the part of the field where the candles have burnt out, only the wick flickers, quickly
he snuffs them out, but misses some, of people who live too long, those who death
has cruelly missed. There is no light on my terrace, a car passes by and plants casts
shadows on the wall, they have no colours. I’m past caring; tomorrow will come
whether I’m there or not, mother will never know if she gave birth to an open grave.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Other One
"Gather around me, children dear;
The wind is high and the night is cold;
Closer, little ones, snuggle near;
Let's seek a story of ages old;
A magic tale of a bygone day,
Of lovely ladies and dragons dread;
Come, for you're all so tired of play,
We'll read till it's time to go to bed."
So they all are glad, and they nestle in,
And squat on the rough old nursery rug,
And they nudge and hush as I begin,
And the fire leaps up and all's so snug;
And there I sit in the big arm-chair,
And how they are eager and sweet and wise,
And they cup their chins in their hands and stare
At the heart of the flame with thoughtful eyes.
And then, as I read by the ruddy glow
And the little ones sit entranced and still . . .
He's drawing near, ah! I know, I know
He's listening too, as he always will.
He's there -- he's standing beside my knee;
I see him so well, my wee, wee son. . . .
Oh, children dear, don't look at me --
I'm reading now for -- the Other One.
For the firelight glints in his golden hair,
And his wondering eyes are fixed on my face,
And he rests on the arm of my easy-chair,
And the book's a blur and I lose my place:
And I touch my lips to his shining head,
And my voice breaks down and -- the story's done. . . .
Oh, children, kiss me and go to bed:
Leave me to think of the Other One.
Of the One who will never grow up at all,
Who will always be just a child at play,
Tender and trusting and sweet and small,
Who will never leave me and go away;
Who will never hurt me and give me pain;
Who will comfort me when I'm all alone;
A heart of love that's without a stain,
Always and always my own, my own.
Yet a thought shines out from the dark of pain,
And it gives me hope to be reconciled:
That each of us must be born again,
And live and die as a little child;
So that with souls all shining white,
White as snow and without one sin,
We may come to the Gates of Eternal Light,
Where only children may enter in.
So, gentle mothers, don't ever grieve
Because you have lost, but kiss the rod;
From the depths of your woe be glad, believe
You've given an angel unto God.
Rejoice! You've a child whose youth endures,
Who comes to you when the day is done,
Wistful for love, oh, yours, just yours,
Dearest of all, the Other One.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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