Sonnet 70: My Muse May well Grudge
My Muse may well grudge at my heav'nly joy,
If still I force her in sad rimes to creep:
She oft hath drunk my tears, now hopes t'enjoy
Nectar of mirth, since I Jove's cup do keep.
Sonnets be not bound prentice to annoy:
Trebles sing high, as well as basses deep:
Grief but Love's winter livery is, the boy
Hath cheeks to smile, as well as eyes to weep.
Come then, my Muse, show thou height of delight
In well-rais'd notes, my pen the best it may
Shall paint out joy, though but in black and white.
Cease, eager Muse; peace, pen, for my sake stay;
I give you here my hand for truth of this:
Wise silence is best music unto bliss.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Related quotes
Panama
I am from Panama and i am full of words,
So come and let me show you my concubines;
Then, you can explore my sweet love.
With two legs and two eyes,
With two hands and two ears,
And like the two pillars of love!
For, i am looking for a place to stay with this sweet muse.
They ate, drank and slept together! !
So, stay the night and enjoy yourself with my love;
And like 'Dr. Flash Hour' at the rush hour of the day!
But if only if i could hold your breasts and kiss you,
Then i will know your mind on this love.
If only if i could kiss your lips and love,
And like the sweet muse of love being reflected in the mirror! !
For i need ylou and i want your naked body beside me,
And like my concubines in the land of my muse.
Yes, come to Panama to enjoy my muse with the red roses of love,
For, i am loooking for a place to stay with this sweet muse of mine;
And, you are all that i need.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Astrophel And Stella-First Song
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
Who hath the eyes which marry state with pleasure?
Who keeps the key of Nature's chiefest treasure?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only for you the heaven forgat all measure.
Who hath the lips where wit in fairness reigneth?
Who womankind at once both decks and staineth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only by you Cupid his crown maintaineth.
Who hath the feet whose step all sweetness planteth?
Who else, for whom Fame worthy trumpets wanteth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only to you her sceptre Venus granteth.
Who hath the breast whose milk doth passions nourish?
Whose grace is such that when it chides doth cherish?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only through you the tree of life doth flourish.
Who hath the hand which without stroke subdueth?
Who long-dead beauty with increase reneweth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only at you all envy hopeless rueth.
Who hath the hair which, loosest, fastest tieth?
Who makes a man live then glad when he dieth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only of you the flatterer never lieth.
Who hath the voice which soul from senses sunders?
Whose force but yours the bolts of beauty thunders?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only with you not miracles are wonders.
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth,
Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth?
To you, to you, all song of praise is due;
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
poem by Philip Sidney
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My Muse Is Free
I swim in the glimmers on the rivers muse
There I muse of love and love muse of me
In muse is ecstasy
my muse is free.
I lay by the brook, the muse's brook
And thirsty, I get up, to get a little drink
When I look, I see, I think
A beautiful Muse and my heart is shook
I dwell in a soul, a soulful muse
And to its harmony my soul withdrew
To the trumpets of muse the song of blue
My soul a muse, I always knew
I smell the odor, of muse's incense
In its torpor my body sleeps in my soul
And I smoke the smoke of muse intense
I laugh at myself amusingly droll
With my muse's nymphs we love in Hellas
Naked and free in the republic
Of beauty and art of love's Bellas
We love to we're entirely love sick.
My muse is free from the Devil's temptation
My Muse is free from God's judgment
My Muse is my only wordly nation
My Muse is a dream, I live, I lament
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Bolo
Black is our colour and white is your muse,
But with one love and one heart to share with you;
White is your colour and black is my muse,
But in peace and love to share this sweet muse with you;
For the colours of black and white are always around us,
And i am Bolo from the Land of Equal Rights and Justice.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Emell
This muse of love is like how to write a song,
This muse of care is like how to write a poem,
This muse of peace is like how to write a stroy,
This muse of joy is like how to write a book,
But, i am now delivered with the muse of your love!
Because, i now live in the land of your muse and,
You are called Emell.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Creative Mind!
Creative mind!
In the land of the heart of your muse to satisfy me;
But, what about those in the snow?
Creative mind!
Out of love in the land of your muse;
But, are you ready to learn? ! !
For, the muse of this love is all about us.
Creative mind!
Justified by the muse of your love;
And like your works as seen by all,
But, try to be yourself always.
Creative mind!
Love it and enjoy it and play with it;
For, the muse of my love is very fast and very easy! !
And like the joy around you in the land of peace,
But, try to understand my sweet muse of love always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Mama Africa Is Like My Muse
I am from Africa and i love my muse,
But you will enjoy your stay when you do visit us;
Because Mama Africa is like my muse of love,
So come ans see things with your own eyes.
Come and let me take you round,
For this continent has more to the eyes than you think;
And like the muse of love that is protected with care.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Zebrudayah
Acah, Zeruyah, Zebi and Zebrudayah!
Friends of love to share the muse of peace;
And like the rats in the holes who want to take a rest,
Because this is the day for you and i want to swing on your muse of love.
I know your abode and you know my muse,
But you are turning things upside down like the potter's clay!
And you know the truth on this muse of love,
But when it comes to love, be esteemed like the strong forest! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Results Ridiculous
("Humourists have amused themselves by translating famous sonnets into free verse. A result no less ridiculous would have been obtained if somebody had re-written a passage from 'Paradise Lost' as a rondeau." --George Soule in the New Republic)
"PARADISE LOST"
Sing, Heavenly Muse, in lines that flow
More smoothly than the wandering Po,
Of man's descending from the height
Of Heaven itself, the blue, the bright,
To Hell's unutterable throe.
Of sin original and the woe
That fell upon us here below
From man's pomonic primal bite--
Sing, Heavenly Muse!
Of summer sun, of winter snow, Of future days, of long ago,
Of morning and "the shades of night,"
Of woman, "my ever new delight,"
Go to it, Muse, and put us Joe--
Sing, Heavenly Muse!
* * * * *
"THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER"
THE wedding guest sat on a stone,
He could not chose but hear
The mariner. They were there alone.
The wedding guest sat on a stone.
"I'll read you something of my own,"
Declared that mariner.
The wedding guest sat on a stone--
He could not chose but hear.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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Sonnet 63: Oh Grammar Rules
Oh grammar rules, oh now your virtues show
So children still read you with awefull eyes,
As my young dove may in your precepts wise
Her grant to me, by her own virtue know.
For late, with heart most high, with eyes most low,
I crav'd the thing which ever she denies:
She, lightning Love, displaying Venus' skies,
Lest once should not be heard, twice said, 'No, No.'
Sing then, my Muse, now Io Paean sing,
Heav'n's envy not at my high triumphing:
But grammar's force with sweet success confirm:
For grammar says (oh this, dear Stella, weigh,)
For grammar says (to grammar who says nay?)
That in one speech two negatives affirm.
poem by Philip Sidney
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To S. M. A Young African Painter, On Seeing His Works
TO show the lab'ring bosom's deep intent,
And thought in living characters to paint,
When first thy pencil did those beauties give,
And breathing figures learnt from thee to live,
How did those prospects give my soul delight,
A new creation rushing on my sight?
Still, wond'rous youth! each noble path pursue,
On deathless glories fix thine ardent view:
Still may the painter's and the poet's fire
To aid thy pencil, and thy verse conspire!
And may the charms of each seraphic theme
Conduct thy footsteps to immortal fame!
High to the blissful wonders of the skies
Elate thy soul, and raise thy wishful eyes.
Thrice happy, when exalted to survey
That splendid city, crown'd with endless day,
Whose twice six gates on radiant hinges ring:
Celestial Salem blooms in endless spring.
Calm and serene thy moments glide along,
And may the muse inspire each future song!
Still, with the sweets of contemplation bless'd,
May peace with balmy wings your soul invest!
But when these shades of time are chas'd away,
And darkness ends in everlasting day,
On what seraphic pinions shall we move,
And view the landscapes in the realms above?
There shall thy tongue in heav'nly murmurs flow,
And there my muse with heav'nly transport glow:
No more to tell of Damon's tender sighs,
Or rising radiance of Aurora's eyes,
For nobler themes demand a nobler strain,
And purer language on th' ethereal plain.
Cease, gentle muse! the solemn gloom of night
Now seals the fair creation from my sight.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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Sonnet 101: O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends
For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Both truth and beauty on my love depends;
So dost thou too, and therein dignified.
Make answer, Muse. Wilt thou not haply say,
"Truth needs no colour with his colour fixed,
Beauty no pencil, beauty's truth to lay,
But best is best, if never intermixed"?
Because he needs no praise, wilt thou be dumb?
Excuse not silence so, for't lies in thee
To make him much outlive a gilded tomb
And to be praised of ages yet to be.
Then do thy office, Muse; I teach thee how
To make him seem, long hence, as he shows now.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Capdepera
'Capdepera', creep, reap, drape, pad, peep, prep, peer;
And, all over the world!
But the Martel lake is part of your muse.
'Capdepera', cap, cape, ape, pear, rape, rap, red, deer, cad;
With the works of your muse to expose your acts!
For, you are now noted among others.
'Capdepera', dear, read, ear, era, are, deep, pea, reed;
Moving around and climbing so high! !
But, with the muse of mind to rest at last.
Exceptional!
All year round;
And like the cave of the dragon! !
But, very deep into the pitch.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Echo
Rust on his wail and melted like the snow,
And like fair women and brave men;
But death's prophetic ears gather the tears.
Trembling in distress and the look of things,
With checks all pale at night!
And like the flying feet without a rest at last.
Merry as a marriage-bell,
That was the echo of the wind to my ears at last;
But with soft eyes ans the look of the muse of love,
And the pleasant things of love are always around me.
Cold and low ans full of lusty life,
And in beauty's circles i will share my muse with you;
For the breasts of love do water my peaceful garden.
Double joy went through my mind with your muse,
And with rich blossom trees to swing along;
But your deep-blue eyes are here to stay.
The lilies gave me love and peace like,
The fresh water from your ocean of love;
But the echo around me is like the ruler of your waters,
And of the early flowers of the muse of your paradise.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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All That You Desire
Come for my love and i will give you all that you desire from me,
But not like the trails and the tears of your past;
For this is a well calculated act to satisfy your muse.
On board the ship and come to me my love,
For many tears will not lead you on;
And like the acts of a crafty man! !
But wake up and let me tell you the truth,
For my love is prepared for you alone.
All that you desire is what i have,
All that you need is what you see,
So come and lie down on my bed of love with the peace of your mind;
For i am in the third story waiting for you,
Because your muse touched my heart this morning!
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The 7th Edition Of My Love
This poem is about the muse of your love,
But many will still wonder why?
Because i was in the bush last night and i saw your tears.
The dog became a god and the rat became a tar!
But war was very raw on your side;
And to leap for joy was like the peal of your muse.
I saw you tears yesterday,
But you can't repel the leper and come to me;
For the heavens know who i am,
But this poem will say it all.
This poem is about the muse of your love,
But what have they done to you my love? !
For i have seen the tears in your eyes.
I have now won the race and,
I will come and save you from this cold;
So put your clothes on without any clues on my muse,
For this era of your love is like the net over ten houses!
But i need a nap for you to use the pan on my stove.
The gel is now on your left leg,
And the dam is now visited by a mad man;
But a man at war is like the sorrows of your muse.
This is the 7th Edition of my love,
But i will come and save you from the heat!
And like shiny leaves with sharp points,
But try to abide in me and live with me in my abode.
Abreast yourself to the matters of love,
And leave your door ajar and let me meet Raja my friend;
For the anagram of my life is all about you,
Because Elvis lives in the land of your muse!
Append to my works to enhance your love,
But things around you are like the era of war!
So live up to the expectations of this poem,
And i will be there to save you with my sweet love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Fatronat
'Fatronat', fat, on, an, to, no, far, tar, rat, not, ton, oat, afar! !
But, go inside and enjoy it with the muse of your love;
For, it has been prepared for you today in the land of joy.
Just over here,
Just for you to rejoice over it with the sweet muse of your love!
And like the classical music playing around;
But, the beauty of the cave over here is just like,
The sweet muse of your love in this land of joy! ! !
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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We've Seen It All
Net, wet, met, let, pet, set, vet, jet, get;
He's seen it all and you've seen it all.
Connector,
Points,
And of a large opening!
I've seen it all and you've seen it all;
But your smaller opening is all about the muse of your love.
Into the deep ocean is the muse of your love,
And like the joy of the stars up high above us!
But, i've seen it all and we've seen it all;
Because, this sweet muse of joy is all about your love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Phase Two
Things are not the same as they use to be!
And like the muse of your love 20 years ago;
But my sweet muse to you is like the works of joy! !
For the muse of hate is never noted to me;
And, i will always stay around you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Sonnet 69: Oh Joy, Too High For My Low Style
Oh joy, too high for my low style to show:
Oh bliss, fit for a nobler state than me:
Envy, put out thine eyes, lest thou do see
What oceans of delight in me do flow.
My friend, that oft saw through all masks my woe,
Come, come, and let me pour myself on thee;
Gone is the winter of my misery,
My spring appears, oh see what here doth grow.
For Stella hath with words where faith doth shine,
Of her high heart giv'n me the monarchy:
I, I, oh I may say that she is mine,
And though she give but thus condition'ly
This realm of bliss, while virtuous course I take,
No kings be crown'd, but they some covenants make.
poem by Philip Sidney
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