Sonnet IV: These Plaintive Verses
These plaintive verses, the Posts of my desire,
Which haste for succour to her slow regard:
Bear not report of any slender fire,
Forging a grief to win a fame's reward.
Nor are my passions limn'd for outward hue,
For that no colors can depaint my sorrows;
Delia herself and all the world may view
Best in my face, how cares hath till'd deep forrows.
No Bays I seek to deck my mourning brow,
O clear-eyed Rector of the holy Hill;
My humble accents crave the Olive bough,
Of her mild pity and relenting will.
These lines I use t'unburden mine own heart;
My love affects no fame nor 'steems of art.
poem by Samuel Daniel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Fame
As recorded by david bowie
Fame, makes a man take things over.
Fame, let's him lose, hard to swallow.
Fame, puts you there where things are hollow.
Fame.
Fame,
It's not your brain, it's just a flame,
That burns your change to keep you insane.
Fame.
Fame, what you like is in the limo.
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow.
Fame, what you need you have to borrow.
Fame.
Fame,
Now it's mine, it's just his line
To bind your time it drives you to crime.
Fame.
Is it any wonder
I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame.
Is it any wonder
You are too cool to fool?
Fame.
Fame,
Bully for you,
Chilly for me,
Got to get a raincheck on pain.
Fame.
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, - fame.
What's your name?
(fame, fame)
(fame, fame)
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fame
As recorded by david bowie
Fame, makes a man take things over.
Fame, let's him lose, hard to swallow.
Fame, puts you there where things are hollow.
Fame.
Fame,
It's not your brain, it's just a flame,
That burns your change to keep you insane.
Fame.
Fame, what you like is in the limo.
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow.
Fame, what you need you have to borrow.
Fame.
Fame,
Now it's mine, it's just his line
To bind your time it drives you to crime.
Fame.
Is it any wonder
I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame.
Is it any wonder
You are too cool to fool?
Fame.
Fame,
Bully for you,
Chilly for me,
Got to get a raincheck on pain.
Fame.
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame,
Fame, fame, fame, - fame.
What's your name?
(fame, fame)
(fame, fame)
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fame
Fame, (fame) makes a man take things over
Fame, (fame) lets him loose, hard to swallow
Fame, (fame) puts you there where things are hollow
Fame (fame)
Fame, its not your brain, its just the flame
That burns your change to keep you insane (sane)
Fame (fame)
Fame, (fame) what you like is in the limo
Fame, (fame) what you get is no tomorrow
Fame, (fame) what you need you have to borrow
Fame (fame)
Fame, nien! its mine! is just his line
To bind your time, it drives you to, crime
Fame (fame)
Could it be the best, could it be?
Really be, really, babe?
Could it be, my babe, could it, babe?
Could it, babe? , could it, babe?
Is it any wonder I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Is it any wonder you are too cool to fool
Fame (fame)
Fame, bully for you, chilly for me
Got to get a rain check on pain (pain)
(fame)
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame ,fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame
Whats your name?
Feeling so gay, feeling gay
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fame '90 (Gass Remix)
Fame 90
David Bowie
words and music by David Bowie, John Lennon and Carlos Alomar
Fame, makes a man take things over
Fame, lets him loose, hard to swallow
Fame, puts you there where things are hollow
Fame
Fame, it's not your brain, it's just the flame
That burns your change to keep you insane
Fame
Fame-f-fame
Fame, what you like is in the limo
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow
Fame, what you need you have to borrow
Fame
Fame, "Nien! It's mine!" is just his line
To bind your time, it drives you to crime
Fame
(What's your name?)
Fame
Could it be the best, could it be?
Really be, really, babe?
Could it be, my babe, could it babe?
Really, really?
Is it any wonder I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Is it any wonder you are too cool to fool
Fame
Fame-f-fame
Fame, bully for you, chilly for me
Got to get a rain check on pain
Fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame, fame
Fame, fame, fame
Fame
What's your name?
(whispered)
Feeling so gay, feeling gay
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet LVI: As to the Roman
As to the Roman that would free his land,
His error was his honor and renown
And more the fame of his mistaking hand
Than if he had the tyrant overthrown,
So, Delia, hath mine error made me known,
And deceiv'd attempt deserv'd more fame
Than if I had the victory mine own,
And thy hard heart had yielded up the same.
And so, likewise, renowned is thy blame,
Thy cruelty, thy glory; O strange case,
That errors should be grac'd that merit shame
And sin of frowns bring honor to thy face.
Yet happy, Delia, that thou wast unkind,
But happier yet, if thou wouldst change thy mind.
poem by Samuel Daniel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zepheria: Canzon. 1
Lvld in an heauenly Charme of pleasing passions,
Many their well thewd rimes doe fayre attemper
Vnto their amours, while another fashions
Loue to his lines, and he on fame doth venter.
And some againe in mercinary writ
Belch forth desire, making reward their Mistresse:
And though it chaunce some Lais Patron it,
At least they sell her prayses to the presse.
The Muses Nurse I reade is Euphemie,
And who but honor makes his lines reward,
Comes not by my consent within my petigree,
'Mongst true borne sonnes enherit may no bastard.
All in the humble accent of my Muse,
Whose wing may not aspire the pitch of fame,
My grieues I here vnto ombe, sweete them peruse.
Though low he flye, yet honor is his game,
All while my pen quests on Zepherias name,
Whom when it sprung thy wing did thee releeue,
Now flowne to marke, thus doth desire thee retreeue.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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I speak not — I trace not — I breathe not
I speak not—I trace not—I breathe not thy name,
There is grief in the sound, there were guilt in the fame;
But the tear which now burns on my cheek may impart
The deep thoughts that dwell in that silence of heart.
Too brief for our passion, too long for our peace,
Were those hours, can their joy or their bitterness cease?
We repent—we abjure—we will break from our chain,
We will part—we will fly—to unite it again!
Oh! thine be the gladness, and mine be the guilt!
Forgive me adored one—forsake if thou wilt;
But the heart which I bear shall expire undebased,
And man shall not break it—whatever thou may'st.
And stern to the haughty, but humble to thee,
My soul, in its bitterest blackness shall be;
And our days seem as swift—and our moments more sweet
With thee by my side—than the world at our feet.
One sigh of thy sorrow—one look of thy love
Shall turn me or fix, shall reward or reprove;
And the heartless may wonder at all we resign,
Thy lip shall reply not to them—but to mine.
poem by Byron from The Hebrew Melodies (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Chaste Florimel
No - I'll endure ten thousand deaths
Ere any further I'll comply:
Oh! Sir, no man on earth that breathes
Had ever yet his hand so high.
Oh! take your sword and pierce my heart,
Undaunted see me meet the wound
Oh! will you act a Tarquin's part?
A second Lucrece you have found.
Thus to the pressing Corydon
Poor Florimel, unhappy maid,
Fearing by love to be undone,
In broken dying accents said;
Delia who held the conscious door,
Inspired by truth and brandy, smiled,
Knowing that sixteen months before
Our Lucrece had her second child.
And hark ye, Madam, cried the bawd,
None of your flights, your high-rope dodging;
Be civil here, or march abroad;
Oblige the 'squire, or quit the lodging.
Oh! have I, Florimel went on,
Lord what is lost my Delia's aid?
Where shall forsaken virtue run
If by her friend she is betray'd?
Oh! curse on empty friendship's name:
Lord what is all our future view?
Then, dear destroyer of my fame,
Let my last succour be to you.
From Delia's rage and Fortune's frown
A wretched lovesick maid deliver;
Oh! tip me but another crown,
Dear Sir, and make me yours for ever.
poem by Matthew Prior
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Sonnet LX: Lo, Here the Impost
Lo, here the impost of a faith unfeigning
That love hath paid, and her disdain extorted,
Behold the message of my just complaining
That shows the world how much my grief imported.
These tributary plaints fraught with desire,
I send those eyes the cabinets of love;
The Paradise whereto my hopes aspire
From out this hell, which mine afflictions prove.
Wherein I thus do live cast down from mirth,
Pensive alone, none but despair about me;
My joys abortive, perish'd at their birth,
My cares long liv'd and will not die without me.
This is my state, and Delia's heart is such;
I say no more; I fear I said too much.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Fame
(d.bowie, j.lennon, c.alomar)
Performed by david bowie
Fame, makes a man take things over
Fame, lets him loose, hard to swallow
Fame, puts you there, where things are hollow
Fame
Fame, its not your brain, its just the flame
That burns the change to keep you insane
Fame
Fame, what you like is in the limo
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow
Fame, what you need you have to borrow
Fame
Fame, nien! its mine! is just his line
To bind your time, it drives you to, ah, crime
Fame
Could it be the best, could it be?
Really be, really, babe?
Could it be, my babe, could it, babe?
Really be, really, babe?
Is it any wonder
I reject you first?
Fame, fame, fame, fame
Is it any wonder
Youre too cool to fool
Fame
Fame, bully for you, chilly for me
Got to get a rain-check on pain
Fame
{vocoder}
Ba ba be
Ba be ba be
Ba be ba be
Ba ba ba ba
Ba ba
Baby, baby
Baby
Fame
Whats your name?
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet LVIII: None Other Fame
None other fame mine unambitious Muse
Affected ever but t'eternize thee;
All other honors do my hopes refuse,
Which meaner priz'd and momentary be.
For God forbid I should my papers blot
With mercenary lines, with servile pen,
Praising virtues in them that have them not,
Basely attending on the hopes of men.
No, no, my verse respects nor Thames nor theaters,
Nor seeks it to be known unto the great;
But Avon rich in fame, though poor in waters,
Shall have my song, where Delia hath her seat.
Avon shall be my Thames, and she my song;
I'll sound her name the river all along.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Grief
O who will give me tears? Come, all ye springs,
Dwell in my head and eyes; come, clouds
and rain;
My grief hath need of all the watery things
That nature hath produced: let every vein
Suck up a river to supply mine eyes,
My weary weeping eyes, too dry for me,
Unless they get new conduits, new supplies,
To bear them out, and with my state agree.
What are two shallow fords, two little spouts
Of a less world ? the greater is but small,
A narrow cupboard for my griefs and doubts,
Which want provision in the midst of all.
Verses, ye are too fine a thing, too wise
For my rough sorrows ; cease, be dumb and mute,
Give up your feet and running to mine eyes,
And keep your measures for some lover's lute,
Whose grief allows him music and a rhyme ;
For mine excludes both measure, tune, and time :
Alas, my God!
poem by George Herbert
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The Hiding Place
See the gloomy gath'ring cloud
Hanging o'er a sinful land!
Sure the Lord proclaims aloud,
Times of trouble are at hand:
Happy they, who love his name!
They shall always find him near;
Though the earth were wrapped in flame,
They have no just cause for fear.
Hark! his voice in accents mild,
O, how comforting and sweet!
Speaks to every humble child,
Pointing out a sure retreat!
Come, and in my chambers hide,
To my saints of old well known;
There you safely may abide,
Till the storm be overblown.
You have only to repose
On my wisdom, love, and care;
Where my wrath consumes my foes,
Mercy shall my children spare:
While they perish in the flood,
You that bear my holy mark,
Sprinkled with atoning blood,
Shall be safe within the ark.
Sinners, see the ark prepared!
Haste to enter while there's room;
Though the Lord his arm has bared,
Mercy still retards your doom:
Seek him while there yet is hope,
Ere the day of grace be past;
Lest in wrath he give you up,
And this call should prove your last.
poem by John Newton
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An American Tale
"Ah! pity all the pangs I feel,
If pity e'er ye knew;--
An aged father's wounds to heal,
Through scenes of death I flew.
"Perhaps my hast'ning steps are vain,
Perhaps the warrior dies!--
Yet let me soothe each parting pain--
Yet lead me where he lies."
Thus to the list'ning band she calls,
Nor fruitless her desire,
They lead her, panting, to the walls
That hold her captive sire.
"And is a daughter come to bless
These aged eyes once more?
Thy father's pains will now be less--
His pains will now be o'er!"
"My father! by this waning lamp
Thy form I faintly trace:--
Yet sure thy brow is cold and damp,
And pale thy honour'd face!
"In vain thy wretched child is come,
She comes too late to save!
And only now can share thy doom,
And share thy peaceful grave!"
Soft, as amid the lunar beams
The falling shadows bend,
Upon the bosom of the streams,
So soft her tears descend.
"Those tears a father ill can bear,
He lives, my child, for thee!
A gentle youth, with pitying care,
Has lent his aid to me.
"Born in the western world, his hand
Maintains its hostile cause,
And fierce against Britannia's band
His erring sword he draws;
"Yet feels the captive Briton's woe;
For his ennobled mind
Forgets the name of Britain's foe,
In love of human kind!
"Yet know, my child, a dearer tie
Has link'd his heart to mine:
He mourns with Friendship's holy sigh,
The youth belov'd of thine!
"But hark! his welcome feet are near--
Thy rising grief suppress:
By darkness veil'd, he hastens here
To comfort and to bless."
"Stranger! for that dear father's sake,"
She cried, in accents mild,
"Who lives by thy kind pity, take
The blessings of his child!
"O, if in heaven, my EDWARD'S breast
This deed of mercy knew,
That gives my tortur'd bosom rest,
He sure would bless thee too!
"Ah, tell me where my lover fell?
The fatal scene recall;
His last, dear accents, stranger, tell,
O, haste and tell me all!
"Say, if he gave to love the sigh,
That set his spirit free?
Say, did he raise his closing eye,
As if it sought for me?"
"Ask not," her father cried, "to know
What, known, were added pain;
Nor think, my child, the tale of woe
Thy softness can sustain."
"Though every joy with EDWARD fled,
When EDWARD'S friend is near
It soothes my breaking heart," she said,
"To tell those joys were dear.
"The western ocean roll'd in vain
Its parting waves between,
My EDWARD brav'd the dang'rous main,
And bless'd our native scene.
"Soft Isis heard his artless tale,
Ah, stream for ever dear!
Whose waters, as they pass'd the vale,
Receiv'd a lover's tear.
"How could a heart that virtue lov'd,
(And sure that heart is mine)
Lamented youth! behold unmov'd,
The virtues that were thine?
"Calm, as the surface of the lake,
When all the winds are still;
Mild, as the beams of morning break,
When first they light the hill;
"So calm was his unruffled soul,
Where no rude passion strove;
So mild his soothing accents stole,
Upon the ear of love.
"Where are the dear illusions fled
Which sooth'd my former hours?
Where is the path that fancy spread,
Ah, vainly spread with flowers?
"I heard the battle's fearful sounds,
They seem'd my lover's knell--
I heard that, pierc'd with ghastly wounds,
My vent'rous lover fell!--
"My sorrows shall with life endure,
For he I lov'd is gone;
But something tells my heart, that sure
My life will not be long."
"My panting soul can bear no more,"
The youth impatient cried;
" 'Tis EDWARD bids thy griefs be o'er,
My love! my destin'd bride!
"The life which Heav'n preserv'd, how blest,
How fondly priz'd by me!
Since dear to my AMELIA'S breast,
Since valued still by thee!
"My father saw my constant pain
When thee I left behind,
Nor longer will his power restrain
The ties my soul would bind.
"And soon thy honor'd sire shall cease
The captive's lot to bear;
And we, my love, will soothe to peace
His griefs, with filial care.
"Then come for ever to my soul!
AMELIA come, and prove
How calm our blissful years will roll
Along, a life of love!"
poem by Helen Maria Williams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A short pastoral dialogue
(Designed for the use of her daughter and niece when very young)
LUCIA.
Come, my Delia, by this spring
Nature's bounties let us sing,
While the popler's silver shade
O'er our lambkins is display'd.
DELIA.
See how she has deck'd the ground
Op'ning flow'rets blush around;
Crystals glitter on each hill,
Polish'd by the falling rill.
LUCIA.
Here the berries bend the vine,
Lucid grapes at distance shine;
Here the velvet peach, and there
Apples, and the pendant pear.
DELIA.
View this maple, from whose wound
Honey trickles on the ground:
Who these luxuries can taste
Thankless of the rich repast?
LUCIA.
Delia, I could sit all day
List'ning to your grateful lay;
But now solar beams invade,
Let us seek a closer sh de.
poem by Ann Eliza Bleecker from The Posthumous Works of Ann Eliza Bleecker
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Fame
(bowie, lennon, alomar)
Fame, makes a man take things over
Fame, lets him loose, hard to swallow
Fame, puts you there, where things are hollow
Fame..
Fame, hurts your brain, just a flame
A funny tin to dip you inside
Fame..
Fame, what you like is in the limo
Fame, what you get is no tomorrow
Fame, what you need you have to borrow
Fame..
Fame, the dirty swine, its just his line
Hes only trying to drive you to crime.. (crime)
Fame..
Is it any wonder
Ill reject you first
Is it any wonder
Youre too cool to prove
Fame
A ticket for you, a ticket for me
Ive gotta get to witchitta
Fame..
Fame (rpt x23)
Whats your name?
What a game..
What a shame.. what a shame..
song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Failure
THE BOY went out from the ranges grim,
And the breath of the mountains went with him;
With a song in his heart and a smile on his face,
And a light in his eyes for a foremost place:
And the good green earth, and the salt sea spray,
And the soft blue skies, they were his that day;
And, like Eden, ringed with a golden fire—
Afar rose the Land of His Heart’s Desire.
The boy went down to the city’s strife,
And his face was lost in the surge of life;
But a Power that he did not understand
Had nerved his brain and his fighting hand.
And he strove and failed, and he rose and won—
And he failed again ere the fight was done;
But he battled on when the days were dire
To win to the Land of His Heart’s Desire.
And there, in the heart of the stress and din,
’Mid want and labour and wealth and sin,
The strong man struggled with shining eyes,
And forced a passage, and grasped the prize.
And he cried to the Power who had lent the fire:
“Lo! Fame is the Land of My Heart’s Desire!
Give the cup to me with a beaded brim.”
And the Power that he knew not gave it him.
But the air is keen on the Cliffs of Fame,
And the shafts that fly have a deadly aim!
With a foothold scarce, and a sleepless dread
For the gulfs below and the heights o’erhead,
He cried to the Power who had steeled his hand:
“I am outcast yet from my Fairyland!
For Fame is a land where no strength may tire,
But Love is the Land of My Heart’s Desire!”
Then there came to the man all his dream of Love,
With the brow of snow and the eyes of a dove,
With the glint of the sun on her wavy hair,
And her soul as pure as her face was fair.
Like a living lily to him she came,
Till his eyes were wet and his soul was flame,
And she called to him, with an outstretched hand,
And they entered into the Promised Land.
But there came a day when he asked his soul,
“Is this the land, and is this the goal?”
In his heart there lay what his lips denied—
The pang of a hunger unsatisfied.
“For Fame,” he said, “and for Love I wrought;
They are not the things that I should have sought:
’Tis to boundless power that my dreams aspire—
And Wealth is the Land of My Heart’s Desire!”
Then the Power that he did not understand
Gave him ships and houses and gold and land,
And the man’s power grew with each passing year;
But his thoughts were vexed with a sleepless fear,
And his hair grew gray with the iron strain
Of the dread of loss and the lust of gain,
And he bowed his head on his hands and said.
“All things are mine, but my heart is dead!”
And he thought of the boy from the ranges grim
With the breath of the mountains over him,
With a song in his heart and a smile on his face,
And a light in his eyes for a foremost place,
And the good green earth and the salt sea spray,
And the soft blue skies that were his that day,
When, like Eden, ringed with a golden fire,
Afar rose the Land of His Heart’s Desire.
Then clear on his startled ear there fell
A voice like the sound of a silver bell:
“To each is the work that he best can do,
But you turned from the work when it called to you.
And you sought instead for the vulgar praise,
For the lips of love, and for prosperous days.
And with all that the world can give you here,
You have lost the thing that you hold most dear.
For who hears the word that the Gods inspire—
In his work finds the Land of His Heart’s Desire.”
poem by George Essex Evans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Was A Time, I Need Not Name
There was a time, I need not name,
Since it will ne'er forgotten be,
When all our feelings were the same
As still my soul hath been to thee.
And from that hour when first thy tongue
Confess'd a love which equall'd mine,
Though many a grief my heart hath wrung,
Unknown, and thus unfelt, by thine,
None, none hath sunk so deep as this---
To think how all that love hath flown;
Transient as every faithless kiss,
But transient in thy breast alone.
And yet my heart some solace knew,
When late I heard thy lips declare,
In accents once imagined true,
Remembrance of the days that were.
Yes! my adored, yet most unkind!
Though thou wilt never love again,
To me 'tis doubly sweet to find
Remembrance of that love remain.
Yes! 'tis a glorious thought to me,
Nor longer shall my soul repine,
Whate'er thou art or e'er shalt be,
Thou hast been dearly, solely mine.
Fame
(Van Morrison)
Oh fame, they've taken everything and twisted it
Oh fame they say
You never could have resisted it
What's in a name
And everybody's jaded by fame
Oh fame again
The press has gone and made another mess of it
Oh just because they got
So much invested in it
But they say you're to blame it's your own fault
'Cos you got mixed up in fame
Oh no don't believe all that old Andy Warhol guff
It takes a lot more than 10 or 15 minutes
That's just not enough
To qualify you for
Fame, you went beyond the boundries of sanity
And every day you defy
All the laws of gravity
You ain't got no shame
'Cos you're just addicted to fame
Oh no don't you buy none of that old Andy Warhol stuff
It takes a lot more than 10 or 15 minutes
That's just not enough
To qualify you for
Fame, they're already setting up your own Watergate
Oh fame, that stalker out there is just filled with hate
You'll never be the same
'Cos everyone's corrupted by fame
Oh fame, they took away all my humanity
Oh fame got to fight
Every second of the day for my dignity
It's a spectator's game
And there ain't nothing fair about fame
Oh fame, oh fame
Oh fame say it again, fame
They say you're to blame
'Cos you got mixed up in fame
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fame And Fortune
Fame and fortune
how empty they can be
But when I hold you in my arms
That's heaven to me
Who cares for fame and fortune
They're only passing things
But the touch of your lips on mine
Makes me feel like a king
Your kind of love
is a treasure I hold
It's so much greater
than silver or gold
I know that I have nothing
If you should go away
But to know that you love me
Brings fame and fortune my way
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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