Devotion ii
FOLLOW your saint, follow with accents sweet!
Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet!
There, wrapt in cloud of sorrow, pity move,
And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love:
But if she scorns my never-ceasing pain,
Then burst with sighing in her sight, and ne'er return again!
All that I sung still to her praise did tend;
Still she was first, still she my songs did end;
Yet she my love and music both doth fly,
The music that her echo is and beauty's sympathy:
Then let my notes pursue her scornful flight!
It shall suffice that they were breathed and died for her delight.
poem by Thomas Campion
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Related quotes
Follow Your Saint
1 Follow your saint, follow with accents sweet;
2 Haste you, sad notes, fall at her flying feet.
3 There, wrapp'd in cloud of sorrow, pity move,
4 And tell the ravisher of my soul I perish for her love:
5 But if she scorns my never-ceasing pain,
6 Then burst with sighing in her sight and ne'er return again.
7 All that I sung still to her praise did tend,
8 Still she was first; still she my songs did end;
9 Yet she my love and music both doth fly,
10 The music that her echo is and beauty's sympathy.
11 Then let my notes pursue her scornful flight:
12 It shall suffice that they were breath'd and died for her delight.
poem by Thomas Campion
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I Will Follow
Yonder mountain so high
I cant make it all on my own, no
Rolling river why so wide?
To sweep me up and to bear me on
Up against the sky so bright
That I cant even close my eyes
I know I will follow (follow love)
Yes, yes, I will follow (follow love)
I will follow (follow love)
Follow love
Growing slowly like a tree
Someday soon, darling I love you
I love you
Soft and gentle, full summer moon
Set my soul free
Thank you, baby
Drifting like a cloud in the sky
I can see myself from high above
I know I must follow (follow love)
Somehow I will follow (follow love)
I must follow (follow love)
Follow love
Oh, half the future and half the past
Theyre waiting inside your eyes
Yes, and after all of this
To last and last
Till at last its your time to rise, rise
True believer that I am
I am blind, lead me on (lead me on)
Blessed receiver of your love
I own my own time
And Ive been holding on (holding on)
Leave the word unspoken
And the spell will not be broken
And Im bound to follow, now (follow love)
I know I must go (follow love)
I must follow (follow love)
Yes, I must follow (follow love)
Someone to hold my hand (follow love)
Somebody to lead me on(follow love)
Somebody to walk beside me (follow love)
Someone to follow me now (follow love)
I must follow love (follow love)
I will fall in love
I will follow love (follow love)
Anywhere it leads me
I will follow love (follow love)
Follow love
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music
Mellow sounds that gently touch
With soft caressing notes
Taking one to heights as such
As clouds in azure skies She floats.
Sweet Melody so fascinating
Fills one's soul with wondrous tones
A flight of audible escaping
With Her one never feels alone.
Music soothes a heart's own pain
A mermaid of such consolation,
Her songs embracing sweet refrain
So tenderly will calm emotions.
A moment with Her richly heals
Whatever sorrow ails the soul,
For Music evidently fills
The vacuumed man to make him whole.
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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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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Unforgettable In Your Ear
There are notes in music
that take you high.
And notes that take you low.
When you listen to the notes of music
you never know where you'll go.
Within one song the notes you hear
affect how you will feel.
A plaintive melody might make you sad
or remind you of your pain.
But all of that can change in a minute
as you feel your emotions drain.
Uplifting notes can bring to you
a few moments of ecstatic peace.
Each inspiring strain can take you where
you are able to release
whatever it was that was troubling you,
erase it for a minute or two.
These notes are magic and so is life.
They're there and then they're not.
They're a gift to you from composers
that plant a forget-me-not.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Music
May I begin with music
It soothes my heart and mind
Surrounding me with melody
I feel lost in time
The melody so sweet
The inspiration high
With just a few notes
As the music goes by
Music can touch our lives
And bring about the rain
Music is a healer,
That can alleviate the pain
Music is for any emotion
That can fill your mind
With happiness or in sorrow
In music you can find
Whatever you are feeling
Let the music embrace
Let the pain run right through you
And the tears run down your face
poem by Meena Mustafa
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Music is...
Music is...
Music is expression...
Music is freedom...
Music is the song of life...
Music is notes...
Music is noise...
Music is beat...
Music is relaxing...
Music is peace...
Music is loud...
Music is calm...
Music is meaningful...
Music is sound...
Music is heart...
Music is soul...
Music is mind...
Music is body...
Music is nature...
Music is language...
Music is the song of my life...
Music is everything...
Music is me...
Music is....
poem by Madeline anderson
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Music Notes
Music
The most beautiful thing I'll ever know
A music note
A note after another note
Composed to create sound
To create feelings
Thoughts
And emotion
Music notes are the most beautiful things I've ever seen
A note
Just a glance and u know
Knowing music is being created
Just the beauty of a music note
And the thing is
I can't read music notes
Just the sound the music notes make
poem by Aerin Andre
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Address To Music
OH thou! whose soft, bewitching lyre,
Can lull the sting of pain to rest;
Oh thou! whose warbling notes inspire,
The pensive muse with visions blest;
Sweet music! let thy melting airs
Enhance my joys, and sooth my cares!
Is there enchantment in thy voice,
Thy dulcet harp, thy moving measure;
To bid the mournful mind rejoice,
To raise the fairy form of pleasure?
Yes, heav'nly maid! a charm is thine,
A magic art, a spell divine!
Sweet music! when thy notes we hear,
Some dear remembrance oft they bring,
Of friends belov'd, no longer near,
And days that flew on rapture's wing;
Hours of delight that long are past,
And dreams of joy, too bright to last!
And oft 'tis thine the soul to fire,
With glory's animating flame,
Bid valor's noble sons aspire
To win th' immortal wreath of fame
Thine too, the soft, expressive tones,
That pity, tender pity owns!
Oh harmony! celestial pow'r!
Thou syren of the melting soul!
In sorrow's reign, in pleasure's hour,
My heart shall own thy blest control;
And ever let thy moving airs,
Enhance my joys and sooth my cares!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Musical notes of life
The sun peeks through the horizon
In the wake of another day
As heart drums, breathe waves
Vibrations inside veins
Alert the soul;
Though and reason
Move notes of live within
Real self wrestled with the ideal
Arrange sounds of being in time
As inner peace champions the soul
Our life just plays on…
Like good music
Delight to the heart
Nice to the ears
Mind and soul struggle
To define time with vision
Dreams challenged with who we are
Conducts life musical bar
Yet, inharmonic each day unfolds
As hope give way to chaos
Unified or in disarray
The mind compose its play
Our actions write the lyric
Being in time make music
Music for life…
Performed to the audience
To the watching universe
To the world concert it shows
Composed in notes as each day goes
Existence in universe makes music
The sun rises every morning
Another day comes to be
It’s a new note musical key
Harmonized or in disarray
The mind composes its play
Musical notes of life…
poem by Fasika Ayalew
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Lost In Music
LOST IN MUSIC
every night she liked
to take off her clothes to
Hungarian Rhapsody
she would bathe
every second Sunday
in Mozart's Symphony No.40
curiously she
would fall asleep to
The Flight of the Bumblebee
her every activity
scored to a music
she adored
mute
she let the music
speak for her
happy
trapped inside
her world of music
sometimes I glimpsed her
staring out from behind the bars
of musical notes
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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Let Us Simply Dance
When the day is tainted with sorrow
When the shadow of death walks in
When the notes of would-have-beens
Fill the mind with some regrets,
Please stand up anyway and join the dance.
Listen to the music of joy and hope
Make your feet and body move
Smile at the camera man
Fill the air with the aroma of thanksgiving
For the days that have been lived.
Keep on dancing
Until the music ends
You know that music and our dance
Are in symphony with beginning and end.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Songs for the People
Let me make the songs for the people,
Songs for the old and young;
Songs to stir like a battle-cry
Wherever they are sung.
Not for the clashing of sabres,
For carnage nor for strife;
But songs to thrill the hearts of men
With more abundant life.
Let me make the songs for the weary,
Amid life's fever and fret,
Till hearts shall relax their tension,
And careworn brows forget.
Let me sing for little children,
Before their footsteps stray,
Sweet anthems of love and duty,
To float o'er life's highway.
I would sing for the poor and aged,
When shadows dim their sight;
Of the bright and restful mansions,
Where there shall be no night.
Our world, so worn and weary,
Needs music, pure and strong,
To hush the jangle and discords
Of sorrow, pain, and wrong.
Music to soothe all its sorrow,
Till war and crime shall cease;
And the hearts of men grown tender
Girdle the world with peace.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Music
Can you feel the music,
As it calms your soul,
Music helps to keep us
on our feet.
Music is surely the soul
that connects within us all,
Nourishing and comforting us.
The beauty of soft melody
playing helps to relax our
mind and body and our
soul.
Variety of different music helps
us all to decide which rhythm our
soul wants for today.
Music helps us to blossom,
The same way as flowers
like a good tune or a sweet
lullaby.
Without music life would
have no nourishment to help
move us along,
life would feel dull.
Music fills the emptiness in
our hearts,
Spreading that joyful feeling.
Music has a way to always chase
away those dark clouds,
When feeling gloomy and sad,
Turn on that favorite song.
Music has come along way through
out history,
Nothing could never take away
the magic of music.
poem by Derek James
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the Joy Of Music
-THE JOY OF MUSIC -
The violin sang so softly
In the hands of this old man
As he sat there on the wooden stool
Bow held gently in his hand.
His wife played grand piano
Sweet music they did make
As from the hard work of the fields
This respite, they would take.
Gentle music of God's praise
They played for all to hear.
The sweetest music in the land
Was falling on God's ear.
They passed along that joyous sound
To children they did bare
The most relaxing trait of all
The gift of music rare.
And now throughout the generations
Which do continue to abound
We hear the perfect notes and glorious songs,
The joy of music does resound.
Author: Carolyn Ford Witt
2-11-07
By Ms. Caroline
poem by Carolyn Ford Witt
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Mammary Tunes
Under heavy haze I cast an ear…
Was that a distant hymn?
To view, to peer ahead,
I span thro’ sharpened eyes,
Connecting brain. Surprise
Awards emotion to the show –
A fine refrain.
I think I know the source:
Without recourse my keen and
Eager shoes propel my whole.
And she regales me as I close –
The drifting notes propose I place
An ear to verge upon the emanation.
Choice of left or right
Invites and overwhelms;
A brief respite, and then
I poise an aural organ,
Seeking out the balance
In the tone from rhythmic flesh.
O Holy Grail, the sweet spot!
Honed in stereophony and
Mastered out of euphony:
Her music –
Diaphragms of luscious areolae
Give the tune
Atop a vibrant bass –
Quivers in the
Belly of her breast.
And presently
I fall beneath a spell of heady music
As her reproductive cushions do the rest.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Follow That Dream
(words & music by fred wise - ben weisman)
Follow that dream, I gotta follow that dream
Keep a-movin, move along, keep a moving
Ive got to follow that dream wherever that dream may lead
Ive got to follow that dream to find the love I need
When your heart gets restless, time to move along
When your heart gets weary, time to sing a song
But when a dream is calling you,
Theres just one thing that you can do
Well, you gotta follow that dream wherever that dream may lead
You gotta follow that dream to find the love you need
Keep a-movin, move along, keep a moving
Got to find me someone whose heart is free
Someone to look for my dream with me
And when I find her I may find out
Just what my dreams are all about
Ive got to follow that dream wherever that dream may lead
Ive got to follow that dream to find the love I need
Ive got to follow that dream wherever that dream may lead
Ive got to follow that dream to find the love I need
Keep a-movin, move along
Keep a-movin, move along
Keep a-movin, move along
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Poetic Muse
Far, far above this world I soar,
And almost nature lose,
Aerial regions to explore,
With this ambitious Muse.
My towering thoughts with pinions rise,
Upon the gales of song,
Which waft me through the mental skies,
With music on my tongue.
My Muse is all on mystic fire,
Which kindles in my breast;
To scenes remote she doth aspire,
As never yet exprest.
Wrapt in the dust she scorns to lie,
Call'd by new charms away;
Nor will she e'er refuse to try
Such wonders to survey.
Such is the quiet bliss of soul,
When in some calm retreat,
Where pensive thoughts like streamlets roll,
And render silence sweet;
And when the vain tumultuous crowd
Shakes comfort from my mind,
My muse ascends above the cloud
And leaves the noise behind.
With vivid flight she mounts on high
Above the dusky maze,
And with a perspicacious eye
Doth far 'bove nature gaze.
poem by George Moses Horton
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Underlined
My mother, that once
wrapped Christmas gifts
and candy for all of us
tells me about how money
is scarce.
No more
fancy ribbon curling, handwritten
notes, loving sentiment. Her
hands smooth and soft, mastering
the task into the early morning
hours while my father would
comment about her lack of sleep
because of us.
My mother would attach
little notes, her writing round
and curvy, underlining love and
kisses. Months of wrapping and
placing gifts for each child. The
delight of opening them one by
one first on Christmas morning.
.
There is a small corner
by the tree where her gifts
and candy would topple over
The paper and ribbon filling up
the room in sequence. The
music boxes playing sweet
Christmas songs.
And I still have the
Porcelain snowbells and
music boxes,
the little Christmas cards
where she underlined love
and kisses.
poem by Louise Marie DelSanto
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Music isn't just music
Music isn't just music, it's a way of life.
Music is more than life.
It's a work of art.
Music is like a cumulous cloud on a stormy day. It brings joy to the people who love it.
Music is like a catelpillar hatching out of its chrysalis its spreds its wings at a slow part dramactic part then takes flight in the entergetic parts.
Music is more than life.
It's an inspiration.
poem by Samanda Sweet
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