Anticipation
'Coming events cast their shadow before.'
I had a vision in the summer light—
Sorrow was in it, and my inward sight
Ached with sad images. The touch of tears
Gushed down my cheeks:—the figured woes of years
Casting their shadows across sunny hours.
Oh, there was nothing sorrowful in flowers
Wooing the glances of an April sun,
Or apple blossoms opening one by one
Their crimson bosoms—or the twittered words
And warbled sentences of merry birds;—
Or the small glitter and the humming wings
Of golden flies and many colored things—
Oh, these were nothing sad—nor to see Her,
Sitting beneath the comfortable stir
Of early leaves—casting the playful grace
Of moving shadows in so fair a face—
Nor in her brow serene—nor in the love
Of her mild eyes drinking the light above
With a long thirst—nor in her gentle smile—
Nor in her hand that shone blood-red the while
She raised it in the sun. All these were dear
To heart and eye—but an invisible fear
Shook in the trees and chilled upon the air,
And if one spot was laughing brightest—there
My soul most sank and darkened in despair!—
As if the shadows of a curtained room
Haunted me in the sun—as if the bloom
Of early flow'rets had no sweets for me,
Nor apple blossoms any blush to see—
As if the hour had brought too bright a day—
And little birds were all too gay!—too gay!—
As if the beauty of that Lovely One
Were all a fable.—Full before the sun
Stood Death and cast a shadow long before,
Like a dark pall enshrouding her all o'er,
Till eyes, and lips, and smiles, were all no more!
poem by Thomas Hood
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Related quotes
Little Nell
GLEAMING through the silent church-yard,
Winter sunlight seemed to shed
Golden shadows like soft blessings
O'er a quiet little bed,
Where a pale face lay unheeding
Tender tears that o'er it fell;
No sorrow now could touch the heart
Of gentle little Nell.
Ah, with what silent patient strength
The frail form lying there
Had borne its heavy load of grief,
Of loneliness and care.
Now, earthly burdens were laid down,
And on the meek young face
There shone a holier loveliness
Than childhood's simple grace.
Beset with sorrow, pain and fear,
Tempted by want and sin,
With none to guide or counsel her
But the brave child-heart within.
Strong in her fearless, faithful love,
Devoted to the last,
Unfaltering through gloom and gleam
The little wanderer passed.
Hand in hand they journeyed on
Through pathways strange and wild,
The gray-haired, feeble, sin-bowed man
Led by the noble child.
So through the world's dark ways she passed,
Till o'er the church-yard sod,
To the quiet spot where they found rest,
Those little feet had trod.
To that last resting-place on earth
Kind voices bid her come,
There her long wanderings found an end,
And weary Nell a home.
A home whose light and joy she was,
Though on her spirit lay
A solemn sense of coming change,
That deepened day by day.
There in the church-yard, tenderly,
Through quiet summer hours,
Above the poor neglected graves
She planted fragrant flowers.
The dim aisles of the ruined church
Echoed the child's light tread,
And flickering sunbeams thro' the leaves
Shone on her as she read.
And here where a holy silence dwelt,
And golden shadows fell,
When Death's mild face had looked on her,
They laid dear happy Nell.
Long had she wandered o'er the earth,
One hand to the old man given,
By the other angels led her on
Up a sunlit path to Heaven.
Oh! 'patient, loving, noble Nell,'
Like light from sunset skies,
The beauty of thy sinless life
Upon the dark world lies.
On thy sad story, gentle child,
Dim eyes will often dwell,
And loving hearts will cherish long
The memory of Nell.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Brighter Shone The Golden Shadows
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And o'er the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The 'Power of Love,' by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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My Frost-King - Song II
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And on the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The 'Power of Love,' by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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The Frost-King' Song II
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And on the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The "Power of Love," by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Dark the shadows haunt the night
If I began to cry
The tears would never end
If I lowered my guard
Then how could I defend?
From every side the walls close in
And there is no place that you could stand
That would hide you from this world
And all that it demands
Whoever said that life was fair
Has not lived long enough
When the path takes you along the edge
You'll see them fall off the bluff
But the problem is
If your guard is high
You will wither away
And begin to die
How could something so small
Cast such a shadow on the land?
How was it that it stood so tall
Yet it was just a grain of sand?
I made my way through this world
With the Sun forever at my back
And the shadows went before me
And the shadow it was black
One grain of sand in my eye
Tormented me for many years
And I could never hope to fly
For I was blinded by my fears
Then Jesus came and turned me round
To face the rising Sun
His light it shone upon my face
And my journey had begun
When you walk into the Son
The shadows fall behind
The Sun removes the grain of sand
Now you're no longer blind
Who is your grain of sand my child
That made you stumble, made you fall?
In the light of Christ perhaps you'll find
That persons not so very tall
Dark the shadows haunt the night
That cause you to run and hide
Look to the Son that shines so bright
And He will shine that light inside
O to be filled with the light of Christ
And see the shadows disappear
To lift my eyes to heavens heights
And finally to shed a tear
poem by Frank McEleny
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Shadows Fall
Shadows had been casted way back when, but the light will be there till the end
Misery is not in sight, for the future brings a stronger light
The light of thee and the light of thou, skeptics question why...what....how
It's the fuel that drives this flame, nothing but love no one to blame
Friendship at hand and at the side, only the bad man will run and hide
Times our tough and rough this is true, no more pain in the rain that's all but blue
This light will blind you if unaware, casting that shadow how you dare
Shadows weaken as the light is glowing, one more light has joined see 'em growing
Those in the dark and in self tormoil, may only find their peace in earth's soil
Sad to say that not all is well, shadows casted by the one's that live in hell
Shadows weaken day by day, the light grows stonger truth in what I say
The chains that bind will be unbound, back in your hell play with the hound
Blame this soul or that one too, shadows will fall how so true
It started a long time ago, nothing can be done except see it grow
poem by Dave Shemeley
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My Love Outshines The Summer Sun (Sonnet Corona)
(after William Shakespeare)
I
My love outshines the summer sun,
even stars in their remote twinkling light
and her eyes are more beautiful, each one
than the stars glimmering at night
Her cheeks is dimpled cute
her hair is an auburn crown,
her cheeks is rosy beyond repute
her hair is sun-shot twisting in a way of their own.
Her lips are more soft and warm
and her spirit is more mild
than a ray of light falling on my arm
or at times more free and wild
than birds where they fly,
my love is like the radiant sapphire sky.
II
My love is like the radiant sapphire sky
like the breeze rustling through trees
so lovely on my eye,
eager to please.
My love is like the summer sun,
like the blue hued sea
always warm and full of fun,
touching me gently
even when the darkness calls
and when time goes to its finality
like a star her light still falls,
my love stays true to me
in every thing her face I see
so gentle, sweet and free.
III
So gentle, sweet and free
my love lives her life
but I long for her to be near to me
in a world without any strive.
Like a lily prospering alone in the marsh
blooming pure and serene,
my darling lives unknown to a world harsh
out of control, away from the limelight scene
and in that rural place
her beauty is untouched by makeup,
filled with a sweet grace
and even in the morning when she wakes up
the sun is in her hair,
my darling is really fair.
IV
My darling is really fair
there are stars in her eyes,
she’s the most beautiful flower found anywhere,
her eyes are much more pure than the bluest skies.
When she smiles at me,
smiling tenderly,
I in her smile blessings see
as if love is there in all of its glory.
Still more so the bliss
that is caught in her kiss
that comes from the divine
which she is making mine
and sometimes the beauty makes her cry,
when the day flutters by.
V
When the day flutters by
with the sun setting red
you will find my love and I
where stars come out from bed,
then like a butterfly
the sun kisses the night,
touches the dark low and high
before it goes by with its last light
and she unloosens my tie
while we watch the full yellow moon,
while the fire in her eyes lie
sparkling, much brighter than the sunny afternoon,
but with a passing bat flying low she catches a fright,
while the stars are shining bright.
VII
While the stars are shining bright
like jewels in the sky’s crown
on a winter night
it has tranquillity, a beauty of its own,
her eyes are radiant,
as if aflame
lovely and brilliant
and of some she know the name
and something indiscernibly small
creeps into the very soul, into the heart
and of it that is all,
a smouldering, something with which we cannot part:
to me she remains the only one in joy and fun,
my love outshines the summer sun.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Child’s Dream
Buried in childhood’s cloudless dreams, a fair-haired nursling lay,
A soft smile hovered round the lips as if still oped to pray;
And then a vision came to him, of beauty, strange and mild,
Such as may only fill the dreams of a pure sinless child.
Stood by his couch an angel fair, with radiant, glitt’ring wings
Of hues as bright as the living gems the fount to Heaven flings;
With loving smile he bent above the fair child cradled there,
While sounds of sweet seraphic power stole o’er the fragrant air.
“Child, list to me,” he softly said, “on mission high I’m here:
Sent by that Glorious One to whom Heav’n bows in loving fear;
I seek thee now, whilst thou art still on the threshold of earth’s strife,
To speak of what thou knowest not yet, this new and wond’rous life.
“Dost cling to it? dost find this earth a fair and lovely one?
Dost love its bright-dyed birds and flowers, its radiant golden sun?
I come to bid thee leave it all—to turn from its bright bloom,
And, having closed thine eyes in death, descend into the tomb.
“Thou shudderest, child! with restless gaze from me thou turn’st away;
’Mid summer flowers and singing birds wouldst thou remain to play;
Thou still wouldst bask in the dear light of thy fond father’s smile,
And on thy mother’s doating heart would linger yet awhile.
“’Tis well, sweet child, I blame thee not, but in spheres far away
Are blossoms lovelier far than those which tempt thee here to stay;
And if the love of parents fond with joy thy heart doth fill,
In those bright distant realms is One who loves thee better still!
“That One for thee in suffering lived—for thy sake, too, he died;
Oh! like the ocean is His love, as deep, my child, as wide.
Leave, then, this earth ere hideous sin thy spotless brow shall dim—
One struggling breath, one parting pang, and then thou’lt be with Him!”
A smile lit up the sleeper’s face, but soon it softly fled,
The rose leaf cheeks and lips grew wan—could it be the child was dead?
Yes, dead—and spared the ills of life, and in bright bliss above
The pure soul nestles in the light of God’s unbounded Love.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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His Shadow
When I was young
the shadow he cast was long.
When I was afraid.
In his shadow I could be brave.
Walking together
watching his shadow by mine.
I yearned for the time
like his my shadow would be long.
As the fledgling finally
flies alone from the nest.
To step away from his shadow
my time came.
One day long after
my child at my side.
Two shadows I saw.
One long joined one small.
In my thoughts
I reflected to when
the longer shadow.
My father cast.
I realized
the time had come.
The father's shadow
now my shadow.
(04SEP97)
poem by Kurt Hearth
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A Thing Just A Thing
things only seem to be what they are
when they try so hard to convince
they ask the help of light to cast some shadows
and if they can only speak they will say:
'you see, i am true
i am real, i am casting a shadow'
in my doubt, i touch a thing in you
there is nothing there but only a thing
and i tell you
'you are only a thing with a shadow
i haven't touched a heart'
and then i hear the silence
and then there was calm and quiet
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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As the Clouds that are so Light
As the clouds that are so light,
Beautiful, swift, and bright,
Cast shadows on field and park
Of the earth that is so dark,
And even so now, light one!
Beautiful, swift and bright one!
You let fall on a heart that was dark,
Unillumined, a deeper mark.
But clouds would have, without earth
To shadow, far less worth:
Away from your shadow on me
Your beauty less would be,
And if it still be treasured
An age hence, it shall be measured
By this small dark spot
Without which it were not.
poem by Edward Thomas
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My Apocryphal Song of Songs
Song of Songs: Chapter one
When my darling is still slumbering
the blanket drawn up to her chin,
lying peaceful
I am without words
when the day brake red across the mountain’s comb
she is still stretched out
while the sun lovingly
stirs its first fingers
and when she moves
her big golden bracelet shines
pearls around her neck glitter
like the dewdrops
outside on the grass and trees,
like the golden colour of the sun
that now hangs high above the horizon
and I can catch the first white gleaming
of her smile
the morning wind swirls
singing over the glory
that she brings to my life
her eyes glitters brighter than the heaven
with their own rays and meaning
that is caught in her glance,
she looks lovely and fresh
and I know that God is blessing me
with her presence,
where He binds us together
in moments of time.
Song of Songs: Chapter two
I want to feel the rays of sun in your eyes
being lost over my body,
bending over your body
I want to take the core out of your soul,
I want to feel the pulse beat of your heart
in your naked breast,
through the pleasure and pain of this life
I want to long day after day for you
and abate all my passion, all my joy in you,
carrying you along through the times of my life,
catching moments in the glory of bliss,
making you to my most honourable aspiration
and tonight I want to come to you,
to make you mine.
Song of Songs: Chapter three
When I saw you
words curled up in my mouth,
my voice suddenly became hoarse
and I were wondering how your smile looks
while you were looking in my direction
and suddenly my thoughts were blunted off
when I saw passion in your eyes,
in my thoughts I had undressed you already,
removing your garments one by one,
but when your lips were burning beneath mine,
our conversation had dried up altogether
and we melted into each other: eye into eye.
Song of Songs: Chapter four
Your first kisses caught me,
with your bright eyes
later your lips were against my cheek
after which you and I
wanted more intimacy
with intensity hanging in every moment,
the sound of your voice was like the singing of birds
and closer contact we could not avoid
we french kissed
like mature people do
this kind of thing
with joy and scouting
and your eyes were full of intense wishes
with moments of passion and tenderness.
Song of Songs: Chapter five
When I stood below your window,
the light in you room went on suddenly
but it was no love-song,
but poems that I was presenting to you
of my love that I held out to you,
like a bush of red roses
and I believed
that you could hear them
right through your sleep.
Song of Songs: Chapter six
Early in the morning, when the fog was concealing the world,
your breath was caught against my cheek,
when the sun’s first rays were teasing with long fingers.
Early in the morning when the fog was concealing the world,
your breath was like the wind over mountains and valleys
while mist hanged like the breath of the world in the basins,
early in the morning when the fog was concealing the world,
when the sun’s first rays were teasing with long fingers.
Song of Songs: Chapter seven
Early morning with the call of guinea fowl in the field
the morning is already preparing,
the rays of the sun break through the nightly cloak,
the sun breaks through the nightly wall
with the day spreading to everywhere
like the gleaming of your eyes she smiles broadly.
Early morning with the call of guinea fowl in the field
the morning is already preparing,
and between you and me there’s an invisible band
that binds the essence of love with an oath,
you are with me through all happiness and sorrow,
I feel you nearness, even you small soft hand
early morning, with the call of guinea fowl in the field.
Song of Songs: Chapter eight
To sing of your beauty, I want to catch nature,
causing the sun’s rays to splash brightly on your cheek,
with my feelings at times caught in a labyrinth
we are bonded in the dark night to each other
with kisses hanging over our entire bodies.
Your eyes are bluer than the sky, your hair threaded out by the wind
and when you sleep I am already longing,
but in the mornings I too blinded by your smile
to sing of your beauty.
Sometimes you twist beneath me like a pretty snake,
the knowledge that we are mortal scares me,
I see the autumn tinted into your hair,
while you smile in a noble and innocent way like a child,
I try to catch that which is between us in words
to sing of your beauty.
Song of Songs: Chapter nine
In the pool of the fountain
the sky reflects cobalt blue
and shadows fall over the inner court
and there is images sprouting whirling in my mind
of me and of you
in the pool of the fountain
and you are like an angel surrounded by sunshine
where we cling to each other dripping wet
and shadows fall over the inner court
and even the wind blows with a song, a refrain
and there are pure white lilies that I look at
in the pool of the fountain
and the time spent with you is noble and pure
while we try to stretch moments to preserve them
and shadows fall over the inner court
drawing the two of us, line fall upon line
the sky reflects cobalt blue
in the pool of the fountain
and shadows fall over the inner court
Song of Songs: Chapter ten
With your lovely face
and bright blue eyes
you can at any time disrupt my life,
a single word causes me to believe in your love,
your soft lips, the blush on your cheek
and bright blue eyes
holds me captured,
the sound of your voice,
your soft lips, the blush on your cheek
clenches around my heart,
with your soft hand folding around mine,
the sound of your voice
is that of a beautiful woman
and with knowledge of how perfect you are to me
with your soft hand folding around mine,
you surprise me time and again.
With your lovely face
and with knowledge of how perfect you are to me
you can at any time disrupt my life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Shadow of my Spirit
Shadows appear and disappear-
Faces behind trees are looking and I never knew,
I never believed in closeness being safe and
Eyes opened towards the sky were said to
Perhaps be taking in the beauty of the cherry blossoms or
Following the pathway of the wild geese in flight-
That is what they say and I would never ask because
Eyes opened to the sky are only open momentarily until
They are cast downward, downward ogling the pathway of my footsteps?
Shadows appear and disappear and faces I don't know
Are none but a threat as the pathway of their eyes
Follow the direction that I walk and I never knew, and
I never believed in closeness being safe-
My eyes are opened towards the sky
Only taking in the spirit of my soul
Dancing someplace in the heavens hoping
That this pathway I walk is a safe place to be?
Shadows appear and disappear and
Even when shadows disappear-
I still believe that all eyes are upon me-
Wild geese in flight and blossoming flowers
Can be beautiful to see but they have no souls-
My soul, my spirit lives deep inside my inner core and
It never felt safe and still to this day
Feels like a raging animal locked inside of a cage
Unable to escape? Unable to escape a body on the run-
On the run from a world that only wishes me harm-
My dream has always been to set my spirit free and to
Become a bird and lift my wings to fly high above
In the sky, journeying through the clouds and to touch the sun,
Then find a safe place where no one could take my thoughts away-but
As a bird I find myself with broken wings, and my own shadow is cast upon the ground
Pilfered by evil people who capture my thoughts within their sinister grasps and
This world is not my home-shadows appear and disappear- my own included-
I can see it upon the gravel pathway lying still- I wait until it disappears and
I find myself alone-alone and safe- a bird with broken wings who has lost her shadow but
I am safe in my solitude and when all shadows disappear, I finally have nothing to fear-
My eyes are opened to the sky watching the wild geese in flight-
They have nothing to fear, soaring high up in the sky and they can escape reality as
Their wings are not broken and blossoming flowers may be beautiful and they remain safe because God did not give them spirits to feel the fear?
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Apple Scruffs
Now Ive watched you sitting there
Seen the passers-by all stare
Like you have no place to go
But theres so much they dont know about apple scruffs
Youve been stood around for years
Seen my smiles and touched my tears
How its been a long, long time
And how youve been on my mind, my apple scruffs
Apple scruffs, apple scruffs
How I love you, how I love you
In the fog and in the rain
Through the pleasures and the pain
On the step outside you stand
With your flowers in your hand, my apple scruffs
While the years they come and go
Now, your love must surely show me
That beyond all time and space
Were together face to face, my apple scruffs
Apple scruffs, apple scruffs
How I love you, how I love you
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After our Likeness.
Before me now a little picture lies—
A little shadow of a childish face,
Childishly sweet, yet with the dawning grace
Of thought and wisdom on her lips and eyes.
Fair, oval, broad-brow'd face—small, delicate head—
Transparent skin, with blue veins shining through—
All the soft outlines, beautiful and true,
Bring me the echo of the words “God said.”
Made “in our image”—sure 'tis that we see,
God's likeness, in the fair face of a child,
By the world's sin and passion undefiled—
Ay, as I look, it seems quite plain to me.
The light wherein the little features shine,
Strange, mystic light, so undefined and faint,
So far too pure for any words to paint—
'Tis a reflection of the Face divine.
Some day the earthly shadows will be cast
Across that sunshine—it may be to dim
A while the visible countenance of Him;
But 'twill be there—the likeness—to the last.
Some day the lucid waters, in which lie
Pictured those glorious lineaments, will be
Stirred up and troubled like a stormy sea;—
But they will yet re-settle—by-and-by.
They will re-settle when the soul is still'd,
Its passions, its wild longings, and its pain;
The pure reflection will shine out again
When earth's hopes are relinquish'd, unfulfill'd.
They will re-settle in those after-years
When life's hard lessons have been conned and learn'd;
Then this child's beauty will have all return'd,
More lovely for the trouble and the tears.
They will re-settle in the calm of death,
When the sweet eyes are laid asleep, and when
The heart is hush'd. Truly God's likeness then—
The mirror clear, unsullied by a breath.
Ah! while I look, and trace each tender line,
I think most of the day when I shall see
The dear face in that perfect purity,
Its mortal features clothed with the divine.
This self-same face, but with the image bright,
Nevermore undefined, and faint, and dim;
This self-same face, yet like the face of Him,
In glory and in beauty infinite.
poem by Ada Cambridge
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The First Embrace
Come to me, grief, on my bosom press,
Lest it should burst with joy’s excess:
Heaven, with disaster, hell, with your pains,
Calm its commotion. For here awhile
She has lain. Strike, foes!
Your shafts but soothe, when they pierce the veins
Of a breast that lows
With the bliss of her thrill and her smile.
Sorrow and trouble have died away
Here, where her face in its loveliness lay.
Drowned she these in the deep of her eye?
Or sucked she their venom? I seemed to mark,
On her smiling lips,
How a tremulous shadow of pain passed by:
And the blue grew dark,
As her eyes’ light found eclipse.
Innocent bride, thou hast joined afresh
Soul with earth, and with God the flesh.
When on my breast, as pure and bright
As a saint’s white robe, thy perfect brow
Gently was lain,
Guilt with its tear-steins vanished quite,
And my mind is now
Like a cleansed and lighted fane.
My heart reflected an inward grace
From the sinless blush of thy maiden face:
To the waft of celestial wings was changed
The tress that wavered over me;
And, O joy, my soul,
Demoniac once, from heaven estranged,
Is, thanks to thee,
Darling, restored and whole.
I feel, where thy loving lips have pressed,
A glory shining within my breast,
And O, the paeans of love that burst,
At the touch of thy passionless, drowsy kiss.
I was fired and manned, -
While my fancy drank with a burning thirst
All the sweet of this
By a tender angel’s hand.
Love, while you lay by my beating heart,
What burgeoning blossoms seemed to start!
Blossoms that lived, and dreamed, and thought.
Almond or apple ws never so gay;
So rich a stream
Of the sun’s blood never the roses caught.
My soul its clay
Left in a blissful dram.
Cold, dark spirit, hold thee apart,
Or blend with the blood that stirs my heart;
Let it flow supreme in its pulses still,
Let nerves aquiver their passion prove,
And in ecstasy
Hark to the breast’s tense chords athrill,
Where, tranced in love,
She late at rest did lie
poem by Henrik Wergeland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Emblem of Life
Oh! Life is like the summer rill, where weary daylight dies;
We long for morn to rise again, and blush along the skies:
For dull and dark that stream appears, whose waters in the day,
All glad, in conscious sunniness, went dancing on their way.
But when the glorious sun hath 'woke, and look'd upon the earth,
And over hill and dale there float the sounds of human mirth;
We sigh to see day hath not brought its perfect light to all,
For with the sunshine on those waves, the silent shadows fall.
Oh! like that changeful summer rill our years go gliding by,
Now bright with joy, now dark with tears, before youth's eager eye.
And thus we vainly pant for all the rich and golden glow,
Which young Hope, like an early sun, upon its course can throw,
Soon o'er our half illumined hearts the stealing shadows come,
And every thought that 'woke in light receives its share of gloom;
And we weep while joys and sorrows both are fading from our view,
To find, wherever sunbeams fall, the shadow cometh too.
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Regret
SOFTLY Death touched her and she passed away
Out of this glad, bright world she made more fair,
Sweet as the apple-blossoms, when in May
The orchards flush, of summer grown aware.
All that fresh delicate beauty gone from sight,
That gentle, gracious presence felt no more!
How must the house be emptied of delight,
What shadows on the threshold she passed o’er!
She loved me. Surely I was grateful, yet
I could not give her back all she gave me, —
Ever I think of it with vain regret,
Musing upon a summer by the sea;
Remembering troops of merry girls who pressed
About me, — clinging arms and tender eyes,
And love, like scent of roses. With the rest
She came to fill my heart with new surprise.
The day I left them all and sailed away,
While o’er the calm sea, ‘neath the soft gray sky
They waved farewell, she followed me, to say
Yet once again her wistful, sweet “good by.”
At the boat’s bow she drooped; her light green dress
Swept o’er the skiff in many a graceful fold,
Her glowing face, bright with a mute caress,
Crowned with her lovely hair of shadowy gold:
And tears she dropped into the crystal brine
For me, unworthy, as we slowly swung
Free of the mooring. Her last look was mine,
Seeking me still the motley crowd among.
O tender memory of the dead I hold
So precious through the fret and change of years
Were I to live till Time itself grew old,
The sad sea would be sadder for those tears.
poem by Celia Thaxter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song VII: Dawn Talks to Day
Dawn talks to Day
Over dew-gleaming flowers,
Night flies away
Till the resting of hours:
Fresh are thy feet
And with dreams thine eyes glistening,
Thy still lips are sweet
Though the world is a-listening.
O Love, set a word in my mouth for our meeting,
Cast thine arms round about me to stay my heart's beating!
O fresh day, O fair day, O long day made ours!
Morn shall meet noon
While the flower-stems yet move,
Though the wind dieth soon
And the clouds fade above.
Loved lips are thine
As I tremble and hearken;
Bright thine eyes shine,
Though the leaves thy brow darken.
O Love, kiss me into silence, lest no word avail me,
Stay my head with thy bosom lest breath and life fail me!
O sweet day, O rich day, made long for our love!
Late day shall greet eve,
And the full blossoms shake,
For the wind will not leave
The tall trees while they wake.
Eyes soft with bliss,
Come nigher and nigher!
Sweet mouth I kiss,
Tell me all thy desire!
Let us speak, love, together some words of our story,
That our lips as they part may remember the glory!
O soft day, O calm day, made clear for our sake!
Eve shall kiss night,
And the leaves stir like rain
As the wind stealeth light
O'er the grass of the plain.
Unseen are thine eyes
Mid the dreamy night's sleeping,
And on my mouth there lies
The dear rain of thy weeping.
Hold silence, love, speak not of the sweet day departed,
Cling close to me, love, lest I waken sad-hearted!
O kind day, O dear day, short day, come again!
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To the sad sweetheart [Iubitei întristate]
I'd like a clear blue sky and peace and vivid light,
A garden, as in tales, to please and charm my sight,
With many lilac blossoms and shaded paths to take,
And weeping willow trees surrounding a small lake...
And you to be in it, a fountain of pure bliss!
With big and limpid eyes, thin waist and gentle kiss,
My dear beloved queen, with flowers as your friends,
To give you from my heart a love that never ends.
To see that you're not sad, but full of life and grace,
With smile upon your lips and with a rosy face,
Forgetting that you are a puppet in life's show,
And safe from all the pains which in your way will flow...
poem by George Topîrceanu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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