One Before the Last, The
I dreamt I was in love again
With the One Before the Last,
And smiled to greet the pleasant pain
Of that innocent young past.
But I jumped to feel how sharp had been
The pain when it did live,
How the faded dreams of Nineteen-ten
Were Hell in Nineteen-five.
The boy's woe was as keen and clear,
The boy's love just as true,
And the One Before the Last, my dear,
Hurt quite as much as you.
* * * * *
Sickly I pondered how the lover
Wrongs the unanswering tomb,
And sentimentalizes over
What earned a better doom.
Gently he tombs the poor dim last time,
Strews pinkish dust above,
And sighs, "The dear dead boyish pastime!
But THIS -- ah, God! -- is Love!"
-- Better oblivion hide dead true loves,
Better the night enfold,
Than men, to eke the praise of new loves,
Should lie about the old!
* * * * *
Oh! bitter thoughts I had in plenty.
But here's the worst of it --
I shall forget, in Nineteen-twenty,
YOU ever hurt abit!
poem by Rupert Brooke
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Related quotes
The One before the Last
I dreamt I was in love again
With the One Before the Last,
And smiled to greet the pleasant pain
Of that innocent young past.
But I jumped to feel how sharp had been
The pain when it did live,
How the faded dreams of Nineteen-ten
Were Hell in Nineteen-five.
The boy's woe was as keen and clear,
The boy's love just as true,
And the One Before the Last, my dear,
Hurt quite as much as you.
* * * * *
Sickly I pondered how the lover
Wrongs the unanswering tomb,
And sentimentalizes over
What earned a better doom.
Gently he tombs the poor dim last time,
Strews pinkish dust above,
And sighs, "The dear dead boyish pastime!
But this - ah, God! - is Love!"
- Better oblivion hide dead true loves,
Better the night enfold,
Than men, to eke the praise of new loves,
Should lie about the old!
* * * * *
Oh! bitter thoughts I had in plenty.
But here's the worst of it -
I shall forget, in Nineteen-twenty,
You ever hurt a bit!
poem by Rupert Brooke (1910)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Soldier, Soldier
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Why don't you march with my true love?"
"We're fresh from off the ship an' 'e's maybe give the slip,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
New love! True love!
Best go look for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,
An' you'd best go look for a new love.
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
What did you see o' my true love?"
"I seed 'im serve the Queen in a suit o' rifle-green,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did ye see no more o' my true love?"
"I seed 'im runnin' by when the shots begun to fly --
But you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did aught take 'arm to my true love?"
"I couldn't see the fight, for the smoke it lay so white --
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I'll up an' tend to my true love!"
"'E's lying on the dead with a bullet through 'is 'ead,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I'll down an' die with my true love!"
"The pit we dug'll 'ide 'im an' the twenty men beside 'im --
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Do you bring no sign from my true love?"
"I bring a lock of 'air that 'e allus used to wear,
An' you'd best go look for a new love."
"Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
O then I know it's true I've lost my true love!"
"An' I tell you truth again -- when you've lost the feel o' pain
You'd best take me for your true love."
True love! New love!
Best take 'im for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd better dry your eyes,
An' you'd best take 'im for your true love.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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At play
Play that you are mother dear,
And play that papa is your beau;
Play that we sit in the corner here,
Just as we used to, long ago.
Playing so, we lovers two
Are just as happy as we can be,
And I'll say "I love you" to you,
And you say "I love you" to me!
"I love you" we both shall say,
All in earnest and all in play.
Or, play that you are that other one
That some time came, and went away;
And play that the light of years agone
Stole into my heart again to-day!
Playing that you are the one I knew
In the days that never again may be,
I'll say "I love you" to you,
And you say "I love you" to me!
I love you!" my heart shall say
To the ghost of the past come back to-day!
Or, play that you sought this nestling-place
For your own sweet self, with that dual guise
Of your pretty mother in your face
And the look of that other in your eyes!
So the dear old loves shall live anew
As I hold my darling on my knee,
And I'll say "I love you" to you,
And you say "I love you" to me!
Oh, many a strange, true thing we say
And do when we pretend to play!
poem by Eugene Field
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The Spider
"Oh, look at that great ugly spider!" said Ann;
And screaming, she brush'd it away with her fan;
"'Tis a frightful black creature as ever can be,
I wish that it would not come crawling on me. "
"Indeed," said her mother, "I'll venture to say,
The poor thing will try to keep out of your way;
For after the fright, and the fall, and the pain,
It has much more occasion than you to complain.
"But why should you dread the poor insect, my dear?
If it hurt you, there'd be some excuse for your fear;
But its little black legs, as it hurried away,
Did but tickle your arm, as they went, I dare say.
"For them to fear us we must grant to be just,
Who in less than a moment can tread them to dust;
But certainly we have no cause for alarm;
For, were they to try, they could do us no harm.
"Now look! it has got to its home; do you see
What a delicate web it has spun in the tree?
Why here, my dear Ann, is a lesson for you:
Come learn from this spider what patience can do!
"And when at your business you're tempted to play,
Recollect what you see in this insect to-day,
Or else, to your shame, it may seem to be true,
That a poor little spider is wiser than you. "
poem by Jane Taylor
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The Record
Fearing that she might go one day
With some fine fellow of her choice,
I called her from her childish play,
And made a record of her voice.
And now that she is truly gone,
I hear it sweet and crystal clear
From out my wheezy gramophone:
"I love you, Daddy dear."
Indeed it's true she went away,
But Oh she went all, all alone;
Into the dark she went for aye,
Poor little mite! ere girlhood grown.
Ah that I could with her have gone!
But this is all I have to show -
A ghost voice on a gramophone:
"Dear Dad, I love you so."
The saddest part of loss 'tis said,
Is that time tempers our regret;
But that is treason to the dead -
I'll not forget, I'll not forget.
Sole souvenir of golden years,
'Twas best to break this disc in two,
And spare myself a spate of tears . . .
But this I cannot do.
So I will play it every day,
And it will seem that she is near,
And once again I'll hear her say:
I love you so, Oh Daddy dear."
And then her kiss - a stab of woe.
The record ends . . . I breathe a plea:
"Oh God, speed me to where I know
Wee lass, you wait for me."
poem by Robert William Service
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1984
Nineteen eighty four
Someday they wont let you
Now you must agree
The time they are a telling
And the changing isnt free
You read it in the tea leaves
And the reacks are on tv
Beware the savage jaw
In nineteen eighty four
Theyll split your pretty cranium
And fill it full of air
Theyll tell you that youre eighty
And really you wont care
Youll be shooting up on everything
Tomorrows never there
Beware the savage jaw
In nineteen eighty four
Come see come see
Remember me
I played in an all night movie role
You said it would last
But I guess weve enrolled
In nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Im looking for a vehicle
Im looking for a ride
Im looking for a party
Im looking for a side
Im looking for a treason
That I knew in sixty five
Beware the savage door
In nineteen eighty four
Come see come see
Remember me
I played in an all night movie role
You said it would last
But I guess weve enrolled
In nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Nineteen eighty four
Who could ask for more
Nineteen eighty four
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dilemma
If I were mild, and I were sweet,
And laid my heart before your feet,
And took my dearest thoughts to you,
And hailed your easy lies as true;
Were I to murmur "Yes," and then
"How true, my dear," and "Yes," again,
And wear my eyes discreetly down,
And tremble whitely at your frown,
And keep my words unquestioning
My love, you'd run like anything!
Should I be frail, and I be mad,
And share my heart with every lad,
But beat my head against the floor
What times you wandered past my door;
Were I to doubt, and I to sneer,
And shriek "Farewell!" and still be here,
And break your joy, and quench your trust-
I should not see you for the dust!
poem by Dorothy Parker
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Go to hell
Go to hell, go to hell'
Blasted one young teen
"What am I doing on net? "
"You are doing nonsense, I bet"
Taken a back for a while
Fumed and just disappeared the smile
was I so unwelcome or wrong?
Had I no place to find friends among?
I am in my teen, and not yet twenty
you may have lived with years plenty
"Are you not ashamed' to be on net"
"Dear you can blast, but have we ever met? " I asked
No, but you have commitment a sin
Put your ideas in just dust bin
Whether be it pot or simple tin
I will not let you allow to score point or win
I said "Dear calm down"
You aren't the only one in town
You may frown, eyes may turn brown
Not only 'hell', but use and add another noun
Not only sex on phone but nudity too
Still may be there simple purity to be true
Why do not you make point or just clarity?
What can be best quality to justify? I argued
"No then also, you just go to hell"
You need no alarms pr bell
It will be bad if you stick here and perform well
"Consider it right now and jump in the well" She argued
Oh, dear teen, you are simple kid
You know not and have no lid
Candle can be lit and not just ignite
"If you have will power and ideas definite" I tried to cool her down
Fear not for a while from simple man
Freedom may be right but can't force a ban
Never do or suffer from narrow thought
Danger may be lurking but always to be fought
I thought for a while but did not cave
Honor was at stake and was absolutely necessary to save
Things may be right but not put in right prospective
She was foolish teen but not subjective
it is always good to be friends on line
Some of the fears can allayed or sidelined
the prestige and status should be respected
One must realize and certainly introspected
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Blind And The Dead
She lay like a saint on her copper couch;
Like an angel asleep she lay,
In the stare of the ghoulish folks that slouch
Past the Dead and sneak away.
Then came old Jules of the sightless gaze,
Who begged in the streets for bread.
Each day he had come for a year of days,
And groped his way to the Dead.
"What's the Devil's Harvest to-day?" he cried;
"A wanton with eyes of blue!
I've known too many a such," he sighed;
"Maybe I know this . . . mon Dieu!"
He raised the head of the heedless Dead;
He fingered the frozen face. . . .
Then a deathly spell on the watchers fell --
God! it was still, that place!
He raised the head of the careless Dead;
He fumbled a vagrant curl;
And then with his sightless smile he said:
"It's only my little girl."
"Dear, my dear, did they hurt you so!
Come to your daddy's heart. . . ."
Aye, and he held so tight, you know,
They were hard to force apart.
No! Paris isn't always gay;
And the morgue has its stories too:
You are a writer of tales, you say --
Then there is a tale for you.
poem by Robert William Service
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Man Child
All day he lay upon the sand
When summer sun was bright,
And let the grains sift through his hand
With infantile delight;
Just like a child, so soft and fair,
Though he was twenty-five -
An innocent, my mother -care
Had kept so long alive.
Oh it is hard to bear a cross
For five-and-twenty years;
A daft son and a husband's loss
Are woes out-weighing tears.
Yet bright and beautiful was he,
Though barely could he walk;
And when he signaled out to sea
His talk was baby talk.
The man I loved was drowned out there
When we were ten weeks wed.
'Tis bitter hard a boy to bear
That's fathered by the dead.
And now I give my life to him
Because he needs me so;
And as I look my sight is dim
With pity, love and woe. . . .
Then suddenly I see him rise,
Tall, stalwart and serene . . .
Lo! There he stands before my eyes,
The man he might have been.
"Dear Mother mine," I hear him say,
"The curse that bound me fast,
Some miracle has swept away,
And all you pain is past.
Now I am strong and sane and free,
And you shall have your due;
For as you loved and cherished me,
I'll love and cherish you."
His kisses sooth away my pain,
His clasp is paradise . . .
Then - then I look at him again
With terror in my eyes:
For down he sinks upon the sand,
And heavy droops his head;
The golden grains drift through his hand . . .
I know - my boy is dead.
poem by Robert William Service
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Young Fellow My Lad
"Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad,
On this glittering morn of May?"
"I'm going to join the Colours, Dad;
They're looking for men, they say."
"But you're only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad;
You aren't obliged to go."
"I'm seventeen and a quarter, Dad,
And ever so strong, you know."
* * * *
"So you're off to France, Young Fellow My Lad,
And you're looking so fit and bright."
"I'm terribly sorry to leave you, Dad,
But I feel that I'm doing right."
"God bless you and keep you, Young Fellow My Lad,
You're all of my life, you know."
"Don't worry. I'll soon be back, dear Dad,
And I'm awfully proud to go."
* * * *
"Why don't you write, Young Fellow My Lad?
I watch for the post each day;
And I miss you so, and I'm awfully sad,
And it's months since you went away.
And I've had the fire in the parlour lit,
And I'm keeping it burning bright
Till my boy comes home; and here I sit
Into the quiet night.
* * * *
"What is the matter, Young Fellow My Lad?
No letter again to-day.
Why did the postman look so sad,
And sigh as he turned away?
I hear them tell that we've gained new ground,
But a terrible price we've paid:
God grant, my boy, that you're safe and sound;
But oh I'm afraid, afraid."
* * * *
"They've told me the truth, Young Fellow My Lad:
You'll never come back again:
(Oh God! the dreams and the dreams I've had,
and the hopes I've nursed in vain!)
For you passed in the night, Young Fellow My Lad,
And you proved in the cruel test
Of the screaming shell and the battle hell
That my boy was one of the best.
"So you'll live, you'll live, Young Fellow My Lad,
In the gleam of the evening star,
In the wood-note wild and the laugh of the child,
In all sweet things that are.
And you'll never die, my wonderful boy,
While life is noble and true;
For all our beauty and hope and joy
We will owe to our lads like you."
poem by Robert William Service
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The Bliss Of Ignorance
When Jack took Nell into his arms
He knew he acted ill,
And thought as he enjoyed her charms
Of his fiancée Jill.
"Poor dear," he sighed, "she dreams of me,
I shouldn't act like this;
But after all, she cannot see,
And ignorance is bliss."
Yet Jill at that same moment was
In Fred's embrace close caught,
And just a little sad because
Of sweetheart Jack she thought.
"Poor dear," she sighed, "he loves me so,
And what's a little kiss?
Or two or three - he'll never know,
And ignorance is bliss."
Now in fond wedlock all is well,
Though in their nuptial bed,
Jack's thought will sometimes stray to Nell,
And Jill's to handsome Fred.
Yet though in fancy they may flirt,
There's nothing much amiss:
What they don't know will never hurt -
Aye, Ignorance Is Bliss.
poem by Robert William Service
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The Love Pain
Trying to forget the pain
Trying to forget the hurt
Hoping to go under the rain
To wash all the hurt and the pain
But where can I run
There is nowhere to hide
All the suffer I have been through
Does not want let me go
I feel rage, I feel bad
And no one even care
With all the pain on my chest
I can’t share or even ease
Help me god, help me please
Love is going through my vain
Heart is beating with too much pain
Pain of love and pain of longing
For the best person I ever have
What will happen if I die
Without saying how I feel
Oh god help me, help me please
No Father?
At times I feel so hurt because i got wounded so deeply.
I know You are there for me, Father my peace and comfort.
I turn towards you murmuring the word 'Father' and slowly.
I look towards you and pour out my pain and the much hurt
Even though I do not have a loving father to this day
I have You who is my true caring Father who loves me fully
When I am hurting, seeing other children happy today
due to the fact they have a loving father who loves them wholly.
I am so hurt, looking at my friends who have such a great live.
I am not enving them, all I want is to be happy and to be loved.
but then I see You turning towards me, You show me so much love
Lord You comfort me like a true father would, I feel so loved
Like a ray of sunshine I sense Your gentle kind fatherly comfort
I pray to you Father when I am in misery, pain or when happy
I realise I have You my true Father so I am free no more hurt.
I pray to you Lord, day and night so that I am no more weary.
When I am sad I slowly cry out to You in a desperate voice of mine
I call onto to You saying these words, 'Father, Father, Father'
I do like calling You father because I get the joy, oh so divine.
I love You so deeply My true compationate Heavenly Father.
When I pray I say, 'Father My provider, Father My God'
My whole prayer are full of the words 'Father'.......father, father
I am thankful that You gave me Your truly fatherly love Lord.
I love you so much even though I have no loving father.
I do not know why I refer to my God as 'Father' not Lord or God
but I find this peace and satifaction when I do call You father
I love my Heavenly Father so much, oh how you give joy, oh God
I somehow find comfort when call on You, You are my only loving father
Oh how Jesus loves me...............How I love Him
poem by Trulyyours Cross
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The Trilogy of My Heart Ache 3/3 – pain
Pain is her
And she is pain
The girl I love
Drives me insane.
She causes my pain
And drown in my loves sea
For she loves another
And can never love me.
She if joyful pain
And my pain brings me joy
My love’s story is bitter sweet
It is my deadly toy.
I gave you my heart
But i fear you were scared,
Well, why should you settle for me,
I’ll let you be, I’ll pretend to be dead.
poem by Timothy Venard
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You Can't Can Love
I don't know how the fishes feel, but I can't help thinking it odd,
That a gay young flapper of a female eel should fall in love with a cod.
Yet - that's exactly what she did and it only goes to prove,
That' what evr you do you can't put the lid on that crazy feeling Love.
Now that young tom-cod was a dreadful rake, and he had no wish to wed,
But he feared that her foolish heart would break, so this is what he said:
"Some fellows prize a woman's eyes, and some admire her lips,
While some have a taste for a tiny waist, but - me, what I like is HIPS."
"So you see, my dear," said that gay tom-cod, "Exactly how I feel;
Oh I hate to be unkind but I know my mind, and there ain't no hips on an eel."
"Alas! that's true," said the foolish fish, as she blushed to her finny tips:
"And with might and main, though it gives me pain, I'll try to develop hips."
So day and night with all her might she physical culturized;
But alas and alack, in the middle of her back no hump she recognized.
So - then she knew that her love eclipse was fated from the start;
For you never yet saw an eel with hips, so she died of a broken heart.
Chorus:
Oh you've gotta hand it out to Love, to Love you can't can Love
You'll find it from the bottom of the briny deep to the blue above.
From the Belgin hare to the Polar Bear, and the turtle dove,
You can look where you please, But from elephant to fleas,
You'll never put the lid on Love.
You can look where you choose, But from crabs to kangaroos,
You'll never put the lid on Love.
You can look where you like, But from polywogs to pike,
You'll never put the lid on Love.
You can look where you please, But from buffalo to bees,
You'll never put the lid on Love.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Illicit Love
Are you lonely, my love
the love of your life
loves another man?
Are you in pain, my love
the love of your life
needs the other man?
Does your heart ache, my love
the love of your life
cannot forget that man?
Do I hurt you, my love
when I say to you
I can't get over that man?
Can you accept - my love
the love of your life
thinks of the other man
always, all the time?
No - I am not the other woman
in his life - as nothing works
between us...
yet I keep thinking of him
feel so deep for him
and yes - my love
wish to marry him
bed him and beget him
children...
like every woman does
for the man she loves...
Is it too much of a sin, my love
to love more than one man?
Tell me - my love
why do I need him so much
miss him every moment
of my lonesome life
being your wife
I need the husband in him
And yet - I know
I cannot do without you
I cannot choose him over you
do I forget him
and forgive myself
for the sin of being in love
with two men in my life?
Tell me - my love
how do I do this?
I am directionless...
feeling down and out
my heart in pieces
wish I could share
my life with you
and him.
Too much for the asking
I suppose...
I am being avaricious
and may be impractical
Tell me, my love
when was love pragmatic
when was love logical?
when did people say
love had a lot of rationale?
Love was always blind
blind as a bat
love feels with the heart
mind doesn't work
And here I am, my love
at your door-step
in your home
beside you, in your arms
loving you and yet
pondering over him...
Why did God give me so much pain?
Why did He fill my heart with
adulterous love?
Why did Destiny bring me
to this cross-road?
Why do I have to choose
between the two of you?
Sometimes I feel
that I could do
with neither of you
for both of you
are so precious to me
I cannot hurt one
and please the other...
They say: Love is pure,
pristine a feeling
complete devotion
and adulation
for the one man
a woman always loves
and loves for ever...
but what happens to the love
a woman feels for the man in her life
and the other man outside?
Is it so sinful a feeling?
Is it so detesting?
Do all the women
in this world
love only one man
through all their life?
And all the men
just think of only one woman:
their so-called wedded wife?
So many questions
in mind
for a heart that loves
and loves and loves...
the two men
in a woman's life
Any Answers...
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Why
(dieter bohlen)
Producer for bonnie: dieter bohlen
Its a breathless night - and I feel the pain
This love is a sacrifice
We cant build a fire baby in the rain
Oh the night has a thousand eyes
How deep is your love babe
No one cares about you
I will love you tomorrow
See what my love can do
Baby why - why should I hurt you?
How many tears can I hide?
Nobody loves you like I do
Time is on my side, baby
Youll close your eyes - Ill stay by your side
I dont care if the sun dont shine
When your heart feels like, oh a motherless child
You are always oh in my mind
How deep is your love babe
No one cares about you
But its not too late babe
See what my love can do!
Baby why - why should I hurt you?
How many tears can I hide?
Nobody loves you like I do
Time is on my side, baby
Baby why - why should I hurt you?
How many tears can I hide?
Nobody loves you like I do
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldier, Maiden, and Flower
"Sweetheart, take this," a soldier said,
"And bid me brave good-by;
It may befall we ne'er shall wed,
But love can never die.
Be steadfast in thy troth to me,
And then, whate'er my lot,
'My soul to God, my heart to thee,'--
Sweetheart, forget me not!"
The maiden took the tiny flower
And nursed it with her tears:
Lo! he who left her in that hour
Came not in after years.
Unto a hero's death he rode
'Mid shower of fire and shot;
But in the maiden's heart abode
The flower, forget-me-not.
And when he came not with the rest
From out the years of blood,
Closely unto her widowed breast
She pressed a faded bud;
Oh, there is love and there is pain,
And there is peace, God wot,--
And these dear three do live again
In sweet forget-me-not.
'T is to an unmarked grave to-day
That I should love to go,--
Whether he wore the blue or gray,
What need that we should know?
"He loved a woman," let us say,
And on that sacred spot,
To woman's love, that lives for aye,
We'll strew forget-me-not.
1887.
poem by Eugene Field
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1924: A Love Story
The day you walked in
Stood on my door
You were nineteen
I was twenty four.
A look at your face
Weakened my knees
In your sweet fairness
I experienced bliss.
Throbbed hard my heart
My body felt so light
That spelt the start
Of my love at first sight!
The day you walked in
There wasn't anymore
Happiness for nineteen
Peace for twenty four.
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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