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A Love Song from the North

Tell me no more of thy love, papeeha,
Wouldst thou recall to my heart, papeeha,
Dreams of delight that are gone,
When swift to my side came the feet of my lover
With stars of the dusk and the dawn?
I see the soft wings of the clouds on the river,
And jewelled with raindrops the mango-leaves quiver,
And tender boughs flower on the plain.....
But what is their beauty to me, papeeha,
Beauty of blossom and shower, papeeha,
That brings not my lover again?
Tell me no more of thy love, papeeha,
Wouldst thou revive in my heart, papeeha
Grief for the joy that is gone?
I hear the bright peacock in glimmering woodlands
Cry to its mate in the dawn;
I hear the black koel's slow, tremulous wooing,
And sweet in the gardens the calling and cooing
Of passionate bulbul and dove....
But what is their music to me, papeeha
Songs of their laughter and love, papeeha,
To me, forsaken of love?

poem by Sarojini Naidu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

The Caique

Yonder to the kiosk, beside the creek,
Paddle the swift caique.
Thou brawny oarsman with the sunburnt cheek,
Quick! for it soothes my heart to hear the Bulbul speak.

Ferry me quickly to the Asian shores,
Swift bending to your oars.
Beneath the melancholy sycamores,
Hark! what a ravishing note the lovelorn Bulbul pours.

Behold, the boughs seem quivering with delight,
The stars themselves more bright,
As mid the waving branches out of sight
The Lover of the Rose sits singing through the night.

Under the boughs I sat and listened still,
I could not have my fill.
'How comes,' I said, 'such music to his bill?
Tell me for whom he sings so beautiful a trill.'

'Once I was dumb,' then did the Bird disclose,
'But looked upon the Rose;
And in the garden where the loved one grows,
I straightway did begin sweet music to compose.'

'O bird of song, there's one in this caique
The Rose would also seek,
So he might learn like you to love and speak.'
Then answered me the bird of dusky beak,
'The Rose, the Rose of Love blushes on Leilah's cheek.'

poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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The Perpetual Wooing

The dull world clamors at my feet
And asks my hand and helping sweet;
And wonders when the time shall be
I'll leave off dreaming dreams of thee.
It blames me coining soul and time
And sending minted bits of rhyme--
A-wooing of thee still.

Shall I make answer? This it is:
I camp beneath thy galaxies
Of starry thoughts and shining deeds;
And, seeing new ones, I must needs
Arouse my speech to tell thee, dear,
Though thou art nearer, I am near--
A-wooing of thee still.

I feel thy heart-beat next mine own;
Its music hath a richer tone.
I rediscover in thine eyes
A balmier, dewier paradise.
I'm sure thou art a rarer girl--
And so I seek thee, finest pearl,
A-wooing of thee still.

With blood of roses on thy lips--
Canst doubt my trembling?--something slips
Between thy loveliness and me--
So commonplace, so fond of thee.
Ah, sweet, a kiss is waiting where
That last one stopped thy lover's prayer--
A-wooing of thee still.

When new light falls upon thy face
My gladdened soul discerns some trace
Of God, or angel, never seen
In other days of shade and sheen.
Ne'er may such rapture die, or less
Than joy like this my heart confess--
A-wooing of thee still.

Go thou, O soul of beauty, go
Fleet-footed toward the heavens aglow.
Mayhap, in following, thou shalt see
Me worthier of thy love and thee.
Thou wouldst not have me satisfied
Until thou lov'st me--none beside--
A-wooing of thee still.

This was a song of years ago--
Of spring! Now drifting flowers of snow
Bloom on the window-sills as white
As gray-beard looking through love's light
And holding blue-veined hands the while.
He finds her last--the sweetest smile--
A-wooing of her still.

poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Double Fortress

Time, wouldst thou hurt us? Never shall we grow old.
Break as thou wilt these bodies of blind clay,
Thou canst not touch us here, in our stronghold,
Where two, made one, laugh all thy powers away.

Though ramparts crumble and rusty gates grow thin,
And our brave fortress dwine to a hollow shell,
Thou shalt hear heavenly laughter, far within,
Where, young as Love, two hidden lovers dwell.

We shall go clambering up our twisted stairs
To watch the moon through rifts in our grey towers.
Thou shalt hear whispers, kisses, and sweet prayers
Creeping through all our creviced walls like flowers.

Wouldst wreck us, Time? When thy dull leaguer brings
The last wall down, look heavenward. We have wings.

poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Old Spanish Song

I'm thinking of the wooing
That won my maiden heart
When he--he came pursuing
A love unused to art.
Into the drowsy river
The moon transported flung
Her soul that seemed to quiver
With the songs my lover sung.
And the stars in rapture twinkled
On the slumbrous world below--
You see that, old and wrinkled,
I'm not forgetful--no!

He still should be repeating
The vows he uttered then--
Alas! the years, though fleeting,
Are truer yet than men!
The summer moonlight glistens
In the favorite trysting spot
Where the river ever listens
For a song it heareth not.
And I, whose head is sprinkled
With time's benumbing snow,
I languish, old and wrinkled,
But not forgetful--no!

What though he elsewhere turneth
To beauty strangely bold?
Still in my bosom burneth
The tender fire of old;
And the words of love he told me
And the songs he sung me then
Come crowding to uphold me,
And I live my youth again!
For when love's feet have tinkled
On the pathway women go,
Though one be old and wrinkled,
She's not forgetful--no!

poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Hear Your Voice

To hear you voice, brings warmth
the soft tone and the sexy accent
the elegant sound of words together
make the heart pitter patter
your whisper brings goosebumps of love
from a father to hear you talk reminds me
of how your voice cares, like your beauty
to call and hear your voice brings joy of love
picturing you near and by my side
how comfort you voice makes me
to hear you sing is a angel from heaven
the laughter is joy of humor we make
the tears brings crackles to your sound
breaks my heart to it so.
saying I Love You returns your smiles
whisper to me how you feel
I need to hear the voice of love and joy
sweet voice of yours make the world turn

poem by Michael Peterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Summer Dawn.

Come with thy feet to the water, and bathe
Thy beauty here in the stream that will not pass!
The soft green leaves with their shadows swathe
The either bank, and under the ferns and grass
The dreamy crickets chirp in the dewy dawn,
Now that the light of the stars has grown
Into a thin pale mist in the night unknown;
The small birds twitter, whose senses quite
Have not yet out of their dreams withdrawn —
Here where my heart too waits for the light
Under the cloudy hills that soon will run
With bright feet in the ways of the sun,
As if they were but chained to the air:
Come to me now so fresh and fair —
Now that the reign of Sleep is done —
With twinkling feet in the dewy dawn!
O love, as grass comes to the lawn,
As day comes to the East, come thou —
Come to me now!

poem by Robert Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forsaking My Love

I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth

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poem by Michael Silver
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Lover

Big lover
When I feel your love flow through me
Big lover
When I hear you whisper to me
Big lover
When I feel you
You were like every love Ive known
Spun into one - my mind is blown
You were like all my burnt down dreams redeemed
You know what I mean
Big lover
When I feel your love flow through
Big lover
When I hear your heart speak truly
Big lover!
You were a mystery revealed
A treasure trove too long concealed
You were like all my torn down dreams redeemed
You know what I mean
Big lover
When I feel your love
Big lover
When I feel your love
Big lover
When I feel your love flow through me
Big lover
When I hear you whisper to me
Big lover!
You were like earth and fire to me
You were j-o-y m-a-g-i-c
You were like all my ripped down dreams redeemed
You know what I mean
Big lover
When I feel your love
Big lover
When I feel your love
Big lover
When I feel your love
Im alive!
Yes, Im alive!
Im truly alive
Alive!

song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Greensleeves

A new Courtly Sonnet, of the Ladie Greensleeves.
Alas, my love, you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously
And I have lov-ed you so long
Delighting in your companie

(Chorus)Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves was my heart of gold
And who but my Ladie Greensleeves

I have been ready at your hand
To grant whatever you would crave,
I have both waged life and land,
Your love and good-will for to have.

(Chorus)

I bought thee kerchers to thy head,
That were wrought fine and gallantly
I kept thee both boord and bed
Which cost my purse well favouredly

(Chorus)

I bought thee petticoats of the best,
The cloth so fine as might be;
I gave thee jewels for thy chest,
And all this cost I spent on thee.

(Chorus)

Thy smock of silk, both fair and white,
With gold embroidered gargeously;
Thy petticoat of sendal right,
And these I bought thee gladly

(Chorus)

Thy girdle of gold so red,
With pearles bedecked sumptuously;
The like no other lasses had,
And yet thou wouldst not love me

(Chorus)

Thy purse and eke thy gay gilt knives,
Thy pincase gallant to the eye;
No better wore the Burgesse wives
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

(Chorus)

Thy crimson stockings all of silk,
With golde all wrought above the knee,
Thy pumps as white as was the milk
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

(Chorus)

Thy gown was of the grossie green,
Thy sleeves of satten hanging by,
Why made thee be our harvest Queen.
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

(Chorus)

Thy garters fringed with the golde,
And silver aglets hanging by,
Which made thee blithe for to beholde
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

(Chorus)

My gayest gelding I thee gave,
To ride where ever liked thee,
No Ladie ever was so brave
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

(Chorus)

My men were clothed all in green,
And they did ever wait on thee;
All this was gallant to be seen
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

(Chorus)

They set thee up, they took thee downe,
They served thee with humilitie,
Thy foote might not once touch the ground
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

(Chorus)

For everie morning when thou rose,
I sent thee dainties orderly;
To cheare thy stomack from all woes
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

(Chorus)

Thou couldst desire no earthly thing,
But still thou hadst it readily;
Thy musicke still to play and sing
And yet thou wouldst not love me.

(Chorus)

And who did pay for all this geare,
That thou didst spend when pleased thee,
Even I that am rejected here
And thou disdainst to love me.

(Chorus)

Well I will pray to God on high,
That thou my constancy mayst see,
And that yet once before I die
Thou wilt vouchsafe to love me.

(Chorus)

Greensleeves, now farewell! adieu!
God I pray to prosper thee,
For I am still thy lover true,
Come once again and love me.

(Chorus)

poem by Anonymous Olde English
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thou Swell

(words by lorenz hart, music by richard rodgers)
This lyrics are like performed by natalie cole
Thou swell, thou witty, thou sweet, thou grand
Wouldst kiss me pretty? wouldst hold my hand?
Both thine eyes are cute too, what they do to me
Hear me holler, I choose a sweet lollapaloosa in thee
Id feel so rich in a hut for two
Two rooms and kitchen Im sure would do
Give me just a plot of, not a lot of land
And thou swell, thou witty, thou grand

song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pensive Thought

Your youthful beauty found peace on your face
As thy wandered the path of love of the past
Effeminate and innocent where love took its place
In the memory of your heart, where your first love last

Pensive thou long in love's sweet air
And think of love inundated in potion
Thy look so grave, in its grave thy stare
With all your love, in love's sweet motion

My heart knew then, that thou heart I wear
The look of my love, forever and soft
When thou pensively dream with out a care
My love raises with thou pensive thought aloft

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bird and flower upon the tree

A bird and flower upon the tree,
Sweet peony and oriole,
Each of them a perfect soul,
Song and sweetness manifest
The bird and flower we love the best
Side by side on the tall tree.

'Flower who art sunlight and fire, flower who art perfume and joy,
Sweetest of sweet,
Ah for the gift withheld!
Ah for the given gift's alloy!
Why must thy spirit exhale only in beauty and breath?
Ah for the voice thou hast not! I by thy side on the tree,
Telling the world of love, pain, and all raptures that be,
Raptures of laughter and life, raptures of tears and death,
Singing my heart to heaven, singing to earth at my feet;
Silence in thee.'

'Bird who art dew-drops and flame, bird who art rapture and song,
Sweetest of sweet,
Lo there's a voice part mine, songs that to me too belong,
Songs that grew of my growth, voice that has breathed my breath.
Bird that while I sit mute singest beside on the tree,
Hast thou ever a song taking no perfume of me?
Give forth my sweetness in song; bird, thou art singing for both,
Singing our hearts to heaven, singing to earth at our feet;
My voice in thee.'

On the tree-top side by side,
Sweet oriole and peony;
Music rings through earth and sky,
Sweet and sweet in sweetness lost
The flower and bird we love the most,
On the tree-top side by side.

poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Linda Paloma

At the moment the music began
And you heard the guitar player starting to sing
You were filled with the beauty that ran
Through what you were imagining
Dreaming of scenes from those songs of love
I was the endless sky
And you were my mexican dove
Now the music that played in your ears
Grows a little bit fainter each day
And you find yourself looking through tears
At the love you feel slipping away
Though its not the kind
Of love you might hope to find
If tears could release the heart
From the shadows preferred by the mind
Like a wind that comes up in the night
Caressing your face while you sleep
Love will fill your eyes with the sight
Of a world you cant hope to keep
Dreaming on after that moments gone
The light in your lovers eyes
Disappears with the light of the dawn
But the morning brings
Strength to your restless wings
And some other lover sings
To the suns bright corona
I know all about these things
Linda paloma
Fly away
Linda paloma

song performed by by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lover's Farewell

And wilt thou, love, my soul display,
And all my secret thoughts betray?
I strove but could not hold thee fast,
My heart flies off with thee at last.

The favorite daughter of the dawn,
On love's mild breeze will soon be gone:
I strove but could not cease to love,
Nor from my heart the weight remove.

And wilt thou, love, my soul beguile,
And gull thy fav'rite with a smile?
Nay, soft affection answers, nay,
And beauty wings my heart away.

I steal on tiptoe from these bowers,
All spangled with a thousand flowers;
I sigh, yet leave them all behind,
To gain the object of my mind.

And wilt thou, love, command my soul,
And waft me with a light controul?--
Adieu to all the blooms of May,
Farewell--I fly with love away!

I leave my parents here behind,
And all my friends--to love resigned--
'Tis grief to go, but death to stay:
Farewell--I'm gone with love away!

poem by George Moses Horton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Grave Of A Poetess

I stood beside thy lowly grave;
Spring-odours breath'd around,
And music, in the river-wave,
Pass'd with a lulling sound.

All happy things that love the sun,
In the bright air glanc'd by,
And a glad murmur seem'd to run
Thro' the soft azure sky.

Fresh leaves were on the ivy-bough
That fring'd the ruins near;
Young voices were abroad–but thou
Their sweetness couldst not hear.

And mournful grew my heart for thee,
Thou in whose woman's mind
The ray that brightens earth and sea,
The light of song was shrined.

Mournful, that thou wert slumbering low,
With a dread curtain drawn
Between thee and the golden glow
Of this world's vernal dawn.

Parted from all the song and bloom
Thou wouldst have lov'd so well,
To thee the sunshine round thy tomb
Was but a broken spell.

The bird, the insect on the wing,
In their bright reckless play,
Might feel the flush and life of spring,–
And thou wert pass'd away!

But then, ev'n then, a nobler thought
O'er my vain sadness came;
Th' immortal spirit woke, and wrought
Within my thrilling frame.

Surely on lovelier things, I said,
Thou must have look'd ere now,
Than all that round our pathway shed
Odours and hues below.

The shadows of the tomb are here,
Yet beautiful is earth!
What see'st thou then where no dim fear,
No haunting dream hath birth?

Here a vain love to passing flowers
Thou gav'st–but where thou art,
The sway is not with changeful hours,
There love and death must part.

Thou hast left sorrow in thy song,
A voice not loud, but deep!
The glorious bowers of earth among,
How often didst thou weep!

Where couldst thou fix on mortal ground
Thy tender thoughts and high?–
Now peace the woman's heart hath found,
And joy the poet's eye.

poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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