En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Night-Piece

Ye hooded witches, baleful shapes that moan,
Quench your fantastic lanterns and be still;
For now the moon through heaven sails alone,
Shedding her peaceful rays from hill to hill.
The faun from out his dim and secret place
Draws nigh the darkling pool and from his dream
Half-wakens, seeing there his sylvan face
Reflected, and the wistful eyes that gleam.

To his cold lips he sets the pipe to blow
Some drowsy note that charms the listening air:
The dryads from their trees come down and creep
Near to his side; monotonous and low,
He plays and plays till at the woodside there
Stirs to the voice of everlasting sleep.

poem by Siegfried Sassoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The River and the Hill

And they shook their sweetness out in their sleep
On the brink of that beautiful stream,
But it wandered along with a wearisome song
Like a lover that walks in a dream:
So the roses blew
When the winds went through,
In the moonlight so white and still;
But the river it beat
All night at the feet
Of a cold and flinty hill -
Of a hard and senseless hill!

I said, "We have often showered our loves
Upon something as dry as the dust;
And the faith that is crost, and the hearts that are lost -
Oh! how can we wittingly trust?
Like the stream which flows,
And wails as it goes.
Through the moonlight so white and still,
To beat and to beat
All night at the feet
Of a cold and flinty hill -
Of a hard and senseless hill?

"River, I stay where the sweet roses blow,
And drink of their pleasant perfumes!
Oh, why do you moan, in this wide world alone,
When so much affection here blooms?
The winds wax faint,
And the moon like a saint
Glides over the woodlands so white and still!
But you beat and you beat
All night at the feet
Of that cold and flinty hill -
Of that hard and senseless hill!"

poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Season of the Witch

Most of the country is hushed out there
As the Moon climbs over the hill,
The creatures out in the wild beware
And the air is breathless, still,
The deer is stood at the edge of the wood
Afraid to go in too soon,
With the animals skittish, out in the yard
A hare stares up at the Moon.

There's something amiss in the air tonight
Both furtive and dark, unclean,
Shadows are lurking by old stone walls
In wait for a sign to be seen,
The men all sit in a vacant trance
As the women go out by the ditch,
Wearing their smoke-black cloaks in the dance
For the Season of the Witch.

Then like the flutter of vampire bats
The witches take to their brooms,
Hang on to their tall black pointed hats
And fly low over the tombs,
They head in a swarm up Gallows Hill
Fulfilling some ancient rite,
While watchful eyes at the window-sill
Will get little sleep this night.

For Alison, Lindy, Carmen and Deb
Are watching their mothers leave,
Tucked into bed as their mothers' fled
The girls creep out to deceive,
Pulling the curtains aside they see
The flight go over the hill,
And hear the cackling sounds of glee,
Then the air is cold and still.

Then Lindy calls to the other three
Through the window out to the farm:
‘Let's climb up there, where we all can see
What they're doing from high in the barn! '
So they dress themselves in their winter cloaks
And they put on their witches hats
That the mothers had made for Halloween,
Had decorated with bats.

They climbed up over the stacked up hay
To the roof of the timbered barn,
And they peered from the moonlit bullock dray
To the trees by the hilltop farm,
But the witches danced in a grove of trees
Quite hidden from anyone's sight,
‘Let's take our brooms, ' said Alison Keys
‘And fly while the Moon is bright! '

‘Let's fly while the Moon is bright, ' she said,
So they stood at the edge of the hay,
Looked down to the old paved cattle yard
And the tractor, over the way.
‘We saw them fly, we can do it too,
We're witches tonight, we've seen!
Tonight is the magical mystery night
For witches - it's Halloween! '

They mounted their broomsticks, held their breath
Then leapt each one with a scream,
They dropped like stones to the cattle yard
On the night of Halloween,
They were found impaled on the thresher blades
That was parked beside the ditch,
And the screams could be heard a mile away
In the Season of the Witch!

15 October 2012

poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Canzonet

I have no store
Of gryphon-guarded gold;
Now, as before,
Bare is the shepherd's fold.
Rubies nor pearls
Have I to gem thy throat;
Yet woodland girls
Have loved the shepherd's note.

Then pluck a reed
And bid me sing to thee,
For I would feed
Thine ears with melody,
Who art more fair
Than fairest fleur-de-lys,
More sweet and rare
Than sweetest ambergris.

What dost thou fear?
Young Hyacinth is slain,
Pan is not here,
And will not come again.
No horned Faun
Treads down the yellow leas,
No God at dawn
Steals through the olive trees.

Hylas is dead,
Nor will he e'er divine
Those little red
Rose-petalled lips of thine.
On the high hill
No ivory dryads play,
Silver and still
Sinks the sad autumn day.

poem by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The First Night

Now night comes, the first night in the grave.
O where is all the brightness that surrounded you?
Your bed is made in the cold earth.
How will you sleep tonight?

Your pillow is damp from the last rain;
nightbirds scream, scared away by the wind;
no little lamps burn for you now; only the moonlight,
cold and pale, plays on the place where you sleep.

The hours creep by-- will you sleep till daylight?
Do you, like me, hear every toll of the bell?
How can I lie peacefully and sleep for a little while
when you, my love, are in such a bad bed?

You came, you went with a light trace,
a fleeting guest in this land of earth;
Where from? Whither? We only know:
from God's hand to God's hand.

poem by Isolde Kurz
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
Vote! | Copy!

Pan at Lane Cove

SCALY with poison, bright with flame,
Great fungi steam beside the gate,
Run tentacles through flagstone cracks,
Or claw beyond, where meditate
Wet poplars on a pitchy lawn.
Some seignior of colonial fame
Has planted here a stone-cut faun
Whose flute juts like a frozen flame.
O lonely faun, what songs are these
For skies where no Immortals hide?
Why finger in this dour abode
Those Pan-pipes girdled at your side?
Your Gods, and Hellas too, have passed,
Forsaken are the Cyclades,
And surely, faun, you are the last
To pipe such ancient songs as these.
Yet, blow your stone-lipped flute and blow
Those red-and-silver pipes of Pan.
Cold stars are bubbling round the moon,
Which, like some golden Indiaman
Disgorged by waterspouts and blown
Through heaven's archipelago,
Drives orange bows by clouds of stone . . .
Blow, blow your flute, you stone boy, blow!
And, Chiron, pipe your centaurs out,
The night has looped a smoky scarf
Round campanili in the town,
And thrown a cloak about Clontarf.
Now earth is ripe for Pan again,
Barbaric ways and Paynim rout,
And revels of old Samian men.
O Chiron, pipe your centaurs out.
This garden by the dark Lane Cove
Shall spark before thy music dies
With silver sandals; all thy gods
Be conjured from Ionian skies.
Those poplars in a fluting-trice
They'll charm into an olive-grove
And dance a while in Paradise
Like men of fire above Lane Cove.

poem by Kenneth Slessor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Zion

She stood-a hill-ensceptred Queen,
The glory streaming from her ;
While Heaven flashed her rays between,
And shed eternal summer.

The gates of morning opened wide
On sunny dome and steeple;
Noon gleamed upon the mountain-side
'Thronged with a happy people ;

And twilight's drowsy, half closed eyes
Beheld that virgin splendour
Whose orbs were as her darkening skies,
And as her spirit, tender.

Girt with that strength, first-horn of right,
Held fast by deeds of honour,
I ler robe she wove with rays more bright
Than Heaven could rain upon her.

Where is that light-that citadel
That robe with woof of glory ?
She lost her virtue and she fell,
And only left her story.

poem by Isaac Rosenberg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Peaceful Living

Written by natalie cole
Have you been to the very top of the highest hill
Where the air is fresh and sweet and the sky is so clear
Looking out on the country side and the view of the villages so far away
There is nothing to feel, nothing to feel
Come with me, wont you take my hand
Lets explore this heaven right here on earth, peaceful living is here
Me and you on this mountaintop with our love we will never stop
cause we both know peaceful living is right here
And here we are in utopia where the sun never seems to go away
And the moon is our friend, hmm
Looking out on a starry night and the sky is like a sleigh for riding on
But you dont need a pin, you dont need a pin
Precious one, youre a joy to me
And I know that theres no place else Id rather be
Peaceful living is here, yeah, yeah
Me and you on this mountain top with our love well never stop
And we both know peaceful living is right right, hoo--
And the moon is our friend, me and you, yeah, yeah, yeah--
Precious one youre a joy to me
And I know that theres no place else Id rather be
Peaceful is living here, oh, me and you on this mountaintop
With our love well never stop cause we both know peaceful living is here
We both know peaceful living is here
We both know peaceful living is right here
La, la, peaceful living, la, la, peaceful living, living, living--
La, la, peaceful living

song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Forest Pool

LEAN down and see your little face
Reflected in the forest pool,
Tall foxgloves grow about the place,
Forget-me-nots grow green and cool.
Look deep and see the naiad rise
To meet the sunshine of your eyes.

Lean down and see how you are fair,
How gold your hair, your mouth how red;
See the leaves dance about your hair
The wind has left unfilleted.
What naiad of them can compare
With you for good and dear and fair?

Ah! look no more--the water stirs,
The naiad weeps your face to see,
Your beauty is more rare than hers,
And you are more beloved than she.
Fly! fly, before she steals the charms
The pool has trusted to her arms.

poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I said, This Misery Must End

I SAID, This misery must end:
Shall I, that am a man and know
that sky and wind are yet my friend,
sit huddled under any blow?
so speaking left the dismal room
and stept into the mother-night
all fill’d with sacred quickening gloom
where the few stars burn’d low and bright,
and darkling on my darkling hill
heard thro’ the beaches’ sullen boom
heroic note of living will
rung trumpet-clear against the fight;
so stood and heard, and rais’d my eyes
erect, that they might drink of space,
and took the night upon my face,
till time and trouble fell away
and all my soul sprang up to feel
as one among the stars that reel
in rhyme on their rejoicing way,
breaking the elder dark, nor stay
but speed beyond each trammelling gyre,
till time and sorrow fall away
and night be wither’d up, and fire
consume the sickness of desire.

poem by Christopher John Brennan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Lines written in the Belief that the Ancient Roman Festival of the Dead was called Ambarvalia

Swings the way still by hollow and hill,
And all the world's a song;
'She's far,' it sings me, 'but fair,' it rings me,
'Quiet,' it laughs, 'and strong!'

Oh! spite of the miles and years between us,
Spite of your chosen part,
I do remember; and I go
With laughter in my heart.

So above the little folk that know not,
Out of the white hill-town,
High up I clamber; and I remember;
And watch the day go down.

Gold is my heart, and the world's golden,
And one peak tipped with light;
And the air lies still about the hill
With the first fear of night;

Till mystery down the soundless valley
Thunders, and dark is here;
And the wind blows, and the light goes,
And the night is full of fear,

And I know, one night, on some far height,
In the tongue I never knew,
I yet shall hear the tidings clear
From them that were friends of you.

They'll call the news from hill to hill,
Dark and uncomforted,
Earth and sky and the winds; and I
Shall know that you are dead.

I shall not hear your trentals,
Nor eat your arval bread;
For the kin of you will surely do
Their duty by the dead.

Their little dull greasy eyes will water;
They'll paw you, and gulp afresh.
They'll sniffle and weep, and their thoughts will creep
Like flies on the cold flesh.

They will put pence on your grey eyes,
Bind up your fallen chin,
And lay you straight, the fools that loved you
Because they were your kin.

They will praise all the bad about you,
And hush the good away,
And wonder how they'll do without you,
And then they'll go away.

But quieter than one sleeping,
And stranger than of old,
You will not stir for weeping,
You will not mind the cold;

But through the night the lips will laugh not,
The hands will be in place,
And at length the hair be lying still
About the quiet face.

With snuffle and sniff and handkerchief,
And dim and decorous mirth,
With ham and sherry, they'll meet to bury
The lordliest lass of earth.

The little dead hearts will tramp ungrieving
Behind lone-riding you,
The heart so high, the heart so living,
Heart that they never knew.

I shall not hear your trentals,
Nor eat your arval bread,
Nor with smug breath tell lies of death
To the unanswering dead.

With snuffle and sniff and handkerchief,
The folk who loved you not
Will bury you, and go wondering
Back home. And you will rot.

But laughing and half-way up to heaven,
With wind and hill and star,
I yet shall keep, before I sleep,
Your Ambarvalia.

poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!

Shield

Mama plays a queen on the hill built on a dream
While the children play in the field
Papa smokes the pipe of a sweet and better life
But how strong is the shield?
Can peace be found on the carpet above ground
Where sky is forever blue
So let it pass baby now, the slow and riding cloud
Which may take me from you
Many things a man can lose
His self, his rights, his views
But never his heart or his love
So take this hand of mine and climb baby, climb
To the hill up above
Now you can play a queen on the hill built on a dream
While our children play in the field
I can smoke the pipe of a sweet and better life
And trust in the strength of the shield
So trust in you love, and lucy of above
And let light pass like a wheel
Dont take the chance of lifes hectic dance
Kiss the strength of the shield
The seeker will be found by the looker on the ground
And to his wish he will yield
Fate will have its word, of course (? )
And time will change its course
And hold the strength of the shield

song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Everlasting Moon

By: jimmy buffett, matt betton
Recorded live 1990 on the feeding frenzy tour
-- spoken:
This is a little song called everlasting moon about what some people did to preserve the environment.
The sky revealed the rumor
In a misty gray cocoon
Some angry baby-boomers
Stole the everlasting moon
They found a new location
Clear and poison free
In a distant constellation
Oh, they called it lunacy
Chorus:
Hangin in the sky
The perfect alibi
Baby come outside with me
Theres a moon youve got to see
Smiling every place
With his laser-painted face
Light of love in each moonbeam
Want you step into my dream
Everlasting moon (everlasting moon, everlasting moon)
Back when nature ruled the heavens
Oh gypsies, fools, and loons
Were dragged across the ocean
By that everlasting moon
When it goes from full to crescent
I move in and out of tune
Its the envy of the kremlin
Its our everlasting moon
Chorus:
Shinin in the sky
The perfect alibi
Baby come outside with me
Theres this moon youve got to see
Smiling every place
With his laser-painted face
Light of love in each moonbeam
Want you step into my dream
Everlasting moon (everlasting moon)
Everlasting moon (everlasting moon)

song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Sea By The Wood

I DWELL in the sea that is wild and deep,
But afar in a shadow still,
I can see the trees that gather and sleep
In the wood upon the hill.

The deeps are green as an emerald's face,
The caves are crystal calm,
But I wish the sea were a little trace
Of moisture in God's palm.

The waves are weary of hiding pearls,
Are aweary of smothering gold,
They would all be air that sweeps and swirls
In the branches manifold.

They are weary of laving the seaman's eyes
With their passion prayer unsaid,
They are weary of sobs and the sudden sighs
And movements of the dead.

All the sea is haunted with human lips
Ashen and sere and gray,
You can hear the sails of the sunken ships
Stir and shiver and sway

In the weary solitude;
If mine were the will of God, the main
Should melt away in the rustling wood
Like a mist that follows the rain.

But I dwell in the sea that is wild and deep
And afar in the shadow still,
I can see the trees that gather and sleep
In the wood upon the hill.

poem by Duncan Campbell Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Death

NEVER again:
No child shall stir the inmost heart of her
And teach her heaven by that first faint stir;
No little lips shall lie against her breast
Save the cold lips that now lie there at rest;
No little voice shall rouse her from her sleep
And bid her wake to pain:
Her sleep is calm and deep,
Call not! refrain.

Close in her arm
As though even death drew back before the face
Of Motherhood in this white stilly place,
The gathered bud lies waxen white and cold,
As ever a flower your winter gardens hold.
She bore the pain, she never wore the crown,
She worked the bitter charm,
But all she won thereby is here laid down
Renounced--for good or harm.

Dream? Feed your soul
With dreams, while we must starve our hearts on clay,
Dream of a glorious white-winged sun-crowned day
When you shall see her once more face to face
Beside Christ's Mother in the blessed place!
But while you dream, they carry her from here,
The black bells toll and toll.
Oh God! if only she cannot see or hear,
Not hear those ghoul-like bells that crowd so near,
Not see that cold clay hole.

poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Well-Worn Story

In April, in April,
My one love came along,
And I ran the slope of my high hill
To follow a thread of song.

His eyes were hard as porphyry
With looking on cruel lands;
His voice went slipping over me
Like terrible silver hands.

Together we trod the secret lane
And walked the muttering town.
I wore my heart like a wet, red stain
On the breast of a velvet gown.

In April, in April,
My love went whistling by,
And I stumbled here to my high hill
Along the way of a lie.

Now what should I do in this place
But sit and count the chimes,
And splash cold water on my face
And spoil a page with rhymes?

poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Parting II

I WILL not wake you, dear; no tears shall creep
To chill the still bed where you lie asleep;
No cry, no word, shall break the sanctity
Of the great silence where God lets you lie.
I will not tease your grave with flower or stone;
You are tired, my heart; you shall be left alone.
And even the kisses that my lips must lay
Upon the mould of the triumphant clay
Shall be so soft--like those a mother lays
Upon her sleeping baby's little face--
You will not feel my kisses, will not hear;
You are tired: sleep on, I will not wake you, dear!
But when the good day comes, you will hear me cry,
'Ah, make a little place where I can lie!'
And half awakened, you will feel me creep
Into the folds of your familiar sleep,
And draw them round us, with a tender moan,
'How could you let me sleep so long alone?'

poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sleep

The night is grey -
Deeply buried inside the faint of black -
The breeze blow with the touch of blood -
Dead beats the drum -
Of a ridden heart -
The sleep which creeps -
By the bullet which sleeps -
Barrel to my gun -
Dormant she plays during the day -
Filled the promises of a sleep -
Creep to be well away -
Sleep -
Sleep -
Sleep my beauty queen -
Sleep to the unseen -
Sleep upon the nightmare -
Sleep in between my dreams -
Succumb by sleep -
Succumb by screams -
Inside where I sleep

poem by Unic Cjonr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Goat Hill

Goat Hill

Walking out the door that man told me to go to hell
My son asked mommy where’s Goat Hill
I said I don’t know son it must be through the valley
My son said mommy lets go there
Up to goat hill
I bet it’s on top of the mountain
I bet there is waterfalls, birds, trees, pretty flowers for all the butterflies and honey bees
I said son if we could I’m sure we would
Most definitely go up to goat hill
I’m not ever going to take you where that man said to go
That place is an internal melting pot
And its way to hot
There’s no mountains with snow on top
No waterfalls trees birds butterflies or honey bees in the place that man said to go
Son I know you are good
Some day together I believe we will find the place called Goat Hill
You found somewhere in your mind
Where life is gentle and Kind
Everyday and every night all the time
Son I bet up on Goat Hill we will only see Gods will being done by the Father and the Son

poem by E.Marie AldrichCreasy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Mother's Lullaby

Oh, my child, fret no more
Close your eyes and go to sleep.
Here I am by your side
Singing lullabies, sweet and cherished.

All sounds are stilled for you to sleep in quiet
All lights out that no beam hurt your eyes
All storms calmed that to a blissful rest you glide
No horrifying dreams to rob you of your snooze.

Sleep, sleep rocking in the sea of joy
Sleep, sleep close to your mother's throbbing heart
Sleep, sleep listening to this gentle lay I tune
Sleep, sleep to wake, to the miracle of life.

Fear not, around you much love abounds
And legions of angels, to guard your sleep.
Thy eyes shall hither new beauties behold
And many a marvel, for you to rejoice.

It's for you the stars twinkle and gleam
It's for you the breeze hums sweet and blest
It's for you the buds open at the fall of gloom
It's for you the glow worms scatter rays of gold.

It's for you, the seasons come and go
It's for you, the fruits ripen and fall
It's for you, the raindrops plop n' break
It's for you, God paints the sky in myriad hues.

Now hush my baby, sleep my child
Lying below this smiling silver moon
Good night darling, drift away
To the land of dreams, where fairies live.

Conceived within before you were born
Called you names and caressed you soft
Cuddled you tight and kept you safe
In the secret chamber of my maiden heart.

I pledge your soul to God our Lord
May He watch you through the gloom!
I consign my babe to His sacred trust
And bid you away to dream's Never never land

Sleep, sleep rocking in the sea of joy
Sleep, sleep close to your mother's throbbing heart
Sleep, sleep listening to this gentle lay I tune
Sleep, sleep to wake, to the miracle of life.

poem by Valsa George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Drift Off To Dream

Drift off to Dream
As I sit here surrounded, By people and lights
Along with my drink at the bar
Youve been here forever, So clear in my mind
I just dont know where you are
But I know Ill find you, But girl till I do
This is my love song for you
Lets hold hands on the porch swing
Under the moon
While the wind through the willows
Plays us a tune
We can lie on a blanket, Out back in the yard
And wish for our future
On a far away star
And youll feel the passion, As time after time
I press your sweet lips to mine
We can dance to the radio, Right up till dawn
Till you drift off
To dream in my arms
You might be hundreds, Or more miles away
Or you might be just down the street
But therell be a hunger, Deep in your eyes
That Ill recognize when we meet
It might take hours, Or it might talk years
But this is the song you will hear
Lets hold hands on the porch swing
Under the moon
While the wind through the willows
Plays us a tune
We can lie on a blanket, Out back in the yard
And wish for our future
On a far away star
And youll feel the passion, As time after time
I press your sweet lips to mine
We can dance to the radio, Right up till dawn
Till you drift off
To dream in my arms
And youll feel the passion
As time after time
I press your sweet lips to mine
We can dance to the radio, Right up till dawn
Till you drift off
To dream in my arms

song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!