A Nocturne
The Moon has gone to her rest,
A full hour ago.
The Pleiads have found a nest
In the waves below.
Slow, the Hours one by one
In Midnight's footsteps creep.
Lovers who lie alone
Soon wake to weep.
Slow--footed tortoise Hours, will ye not hasten on,
Till from his prison
In the golden East
A new day shall have risen,
And the last stars be gone,
Like guests belated from a bridal feast?
When the long night is done
Then shall ye sleep.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Dear love, good-night
DEAR love, good-night. And, tender sleep
,Seal up her lids like these drowsed flowers,
To make day fair when they unclose.
Be hushed around her, Night, and keep
Thy silent guard on her repose;
But speed thine hours.
Dear love, sleep on. This weary space
I wake and long for day and thee,
And count the slow stars from their west.
Sleep while I hunger for thy face,
Sleep, dearest, in unbroken rest;
But dream of me.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Within The Midnight Hour
In the midnight hours, my heart
breaks, the fog moves in, wraps
it arms around the morning's
longing wake. The gentle dew
falls from the nights moon, within
the loving fog, my heart
blooms.
The midnight stars fading one
by one, falling from the darkness,
until the night is done. Stars
floating within my sea of tears,
midnight awaiting for my
love to appear.
Gripping the cool night, feeling
alone, lost in the misty fog,
my heart looking for a home.
Crying to the Heaven's, my
universe in pain, moon beams
playing melodies upon my
broken heart strings.
In the midnight hour, your
sweet name I call, the galaxy
crying, losing light as it's stars
fall. Alone in the midnight hour,
my heart, the pain consumes,
within the loving fog, my heart
does bloom.
poem by Ruth warren
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Is All About You
1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.
1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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No Songs in Winter
The sky is gray as gray may be,
There is no bird upon the bough,
There is no leaf on vine or tree.
In the Neponset marshes now
Willow-stems, rosy in the wind,
Shiver with hidden sense of snow.
So too 't is winter in my mind,
No light-winged fancy comes and stays:
A season churlish and unkind.
Slow creep the hours, slow creep the days,
The black ink crusts upon the pen--
Just wait till bluebirds, wrens, and jays
And golden orioles come again!
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballade Of Sleep
The hours are passing slow,
I hear their weary tread
Clang from the tower, and go
Back to their kinsfolk dead.
Sleep! death's twin brother dread!
Why dost thou scorn me so?
The wind's voice overhead
Long wakeful here I know,
And music from the steep
Where waters fall and flow.
Wilt thou not hear sue, Sleep?
All sounds that might bestow
Rest on the fever'd bed,
All slumb'rous sounds and low
Are mingled here and wed,
And bring no drowsihed.
Shy dreams flit to and fro
With shadowy hair dispread;
With wistful eyes that glow,
And silent robes that sweep.
Thou wilt not hear me; no?
Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?
What cause hast thou to show
Of sacrifice unsped?
Of all thy slaves below
I most have laboured
With service sung and said;
Have cull'd such buds as blow,
Soft poppies white and red,
Where thy still gardens grow,
And Lethe's waters weep.
Why, then, art thou my foe?
Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep?
ENVOY.
Prince, ere the dark be shred
By golden shafts, ere now
And long the shadows creep:
Lord of the wand of lead,
Soft-footed as the snow,
Wilt thou not hear me, Sleep!
poem by Andrew Lang
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A Song
Oh night and sleep,
Ye are so soft and deep,
I am so weary, come ye soon to me.
Oh hours that creep,
With so much time to weep,
I am so tired, can ye no swifter be?
Come, night, anear;
I'll whisper in thine ear
What makes me so unhappy, full of care;
Dear night, I die
For love that all men buy
With tears, and know not it is dark despair.
Dear night, I pray,
How is it that men say
That love is sweet? It is not sweet to me.
For one boy's sake
A poor girl's heart must break;
So sweet, so true, and yet it could not be!
Oh, I loved well,
Such love as none can tell:
It was so true, it could not make him know:
For he was blind,
All light and all unkind:
Oh, had he known, would he have hurt me so?
Oh night and sleep,
Ye are so soft and deep,
I am so weary, come ye soon to me.
Oh hours that creep,
With so much time to weep,
I am so tired, can ye no swifter be?
poem by Archibald Lampman
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The End of the Day
The night darkens fast & the shadows darken,
Clouds & the rain gather about mine house,
Only the wood-dove moans, hearken, O hearken!
The moan of the wood-dove in the rain-wet boughs.
Loneliness & the night! The night is lonely
Star-covered the night takes to a tender breast
Wrapping them in her veil these dark hours only
The weary, the bereaved, the dispossessed.
When will it lighten? Once the night was kindly
Nor all her hours went by leaden & long.
Now in mine house the hours go groping blindly.
After the shiver of dawn, the first bird's song.
Sleep now! The night with wings of splendour swept
Hides heavy eyes from light that they may sleep
Soft & secure, under her gaze so tender
Lest they should wake to weep, should wake to weep.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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The Past
MAKE strong your door with bolt and bar,
Make every window fast;
Strong brass and iron as they are,
They are so easy passed--
So easy broken and cast aside,
And by the open door
My footsteps come to your guarded home,
And pass away no more.
In the golden noon--by the lovers' moon,
My shadow bars your way,
My shroud shows white in the blackest night
And grey in the gladdest day.
And by your board and by your bed
There is a place for me,
And in the glow when the coals burn low,
My face is the face ye see
I come between when ye laugh and lean,
I burn in the tears ye weep:
I am there when ye wake in the gray day-break
From the gold of a lovers' sleep.
I wither the rose and I spoil the song,
And Death is not strong to save--
For I shall creep while your mourners weep,
And wait for you in your grave.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Nighttime Envy
I spend most nights
envious
until the wee hours of morn;
watching
the subtle changes of your face
as you are mentally carried
from one dreamscape
to another.
Did you know I want to sleep like you do?
If only I could sleep like you do…
I lie here each night
jealous
through the darkened hours,
listening
to noises which accompany sleep;
your mumbled words,
your slow intake of breath,
your sighs.
I wish I could sleep like you do. Eh?
If only I could sleep like you do…
I stay here beside you
desirous
of the rest you find with ease.
Until, Finally!
As the sun peeks above the earth,
my eyes leaden with sleep
and, At Last! , I too
am allowed to dream.
poem by Jennifer ParksNolan as LeJenD'Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slow Dancing
My love is cruel as the night
She steals the sun, and shuts out the light
All of my colors, they turn to blue
Win or lose
She does it slow dancing
Slow dancing
She does it slow...dancing
All night long
Scarlet eyes and a see-through heart
She saw me coming right from the start
She picked me up, but had me down on my knees
Just a beggin her, beggin her please
Take me slow dancing
Slow dancing
She took me slow...dancing
All night long
And I dont know a man
Search for himself in his lovers eyes
No I dont know why a man
Sees the truth but needs the lies
My love is restless as the wind
She moves like a shadow across my skin
She left with my conscience, I dont want it back
It just gets in the way
If you wanna go slow dancing
Slow dancing
She took me slow...dancing
All night long
Slow...dancing
Slow...dancing
Slow...
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To wander, missing the goal
The king had a halt to pass out the night.
The charioteer had to guard the horse
For which he must not sleep through out the night.
The king suggested thinking on something.
The king woke up a few hours later and
Found him awake thinking about something.
Questioned, he told he was counting the stars.
Complimenting him, the king went to sleep.
The king woke up after a few hours and
Found him awake with something in mind.
Asked, he said that he was watching the clouds.
Patting on his back, the king went to sleep.
The king woke up in the early hour and
Found him still awake and felt quite assured.
‘I was thinking if the horse left itself
Or someone chased it.', he said candidly.
He took full efforts not to fall asleep
And in the process he missed the purpose.
Devotion to the rites and the rituals
Will tie you to the religion, not the God.
28.07.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Round & Round
Round and round and round we spin,
To weave a wall to hem us in,
It won't be long, it won't be long
How slow and slow and slow it goes,
To mend the tear that always shows.
It won't be long, it won't be long.
It's hard enough losin' the paper illusion you've hidden inside,
Without the confusion of findin' you're usin' the crutch of the lie
To shelter your pride when you cry.
Round and round and round we spin,
To weave a wall to hem us in,
It won't be long, it won't be long
How slow and slow and slow it goes,
To mend the tear that always shows.
It won't be long, it won't be long.
Now you're movin' too slow and wherever you go there's another beside.
It's so hard to say no to yourself and it shows that you're losing inside,
When you step on your pride and you cry.
Round and round and round we spin,
To weave a wall to hem us in,
It won't be long, it won't be long
How slow and slow and slow it goes,
To mend the tear that always shows.
It won't be long, it won't be long.
How the hours will bend through the time that you spend till you turn to your eyes,
And you see your best friend looking over the end and you turn to see why,
And he looks in your eyes and he cries.
Round and round and round we spin,
To weave a wall to hem us in,
It won't be long, it won't be long
How slow and slow and slow it goes,
To mend the tear that always shows.
It won't be long, it won't be long.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Waking (1953)
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.
Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me, so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
poem by Theodore Roethke
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Waking
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.
We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Of those so close beside me, which are you?
God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there,
And learn by going where I have to go.
Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how?
The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair;
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
Great Nature has another thing to do
To you and me; so take the lively air,
And, lovely, learn by going where to go.
This shaking keeps me steady. I should know.
What falls away is always. And is near.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I learn by going where I have to go.
poem by Theodore Roethke
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Naturally for M lady Marci
At midnight still the roses bloom
Their colours pale beneath the moon
Scenting the air with rich perfume
while nightingales sing their sweet tune.
When all good folk are fast asleep
as slowly past the night hours creep.
Hidden by darkness lovers dare
enjoy their latest love affair
They snatch a stolen hour or two
in some well hidden rendezvous
Forbidden love they can’t declare
Makes their life easier to bear
The rose does what comes naturally
so do the lovers actually.
14-Oct-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Waiting for Daylight
The clock has struck the midnight hour
and silence now hangs heavily.
Sad recollections overpower
my every happy memory.
On looking back I clearly see
all of the errors I have made.
foregathering and taunting me.
Aged veterans on parade.
The long slow hours of the night
are not the best time to review
your actions whether wrong or right.
You’re bound to take a jaundiced view
When you are tired but cannot sleep.
Experience does not come cheap.
16-Apr-08
http: //blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bridal Song
I.
The golden gates of Sleep unbar
Where Strength and Beauty, met together,
Kindle their image like a star
In a sea of glassy weather!
Night, with all thy stars look down,--
Darkness, weep thy holiest dew,--
Never smiled the inconstant moon
On a pair so true.
Let eyes not see their own delight;--
Haste, swift Hour, and thy flight
Oft renew.
II.
Fairies, sprites, and angels, keep her!
Holy stars, permit no wrong!
And return to wake the sleeper,
Dawn,—ere it be long!
O joy! O fear! what will be done
In the absence of the sun!
Come along!
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Full Moon
Havent you noticed a kind of madness in my eyes?
Its only me, dear, in my midnight disguise.
Pay no attention if I crawl across the room.
Its just another full moon.
Dont be afraid of me when Im walking in my sleep.
Dont get alarmed, dear, when I start to crawl and creep.
Try not to listen when I mumble like a loon.
Its just another full moon.
Its just another full moon.
You see before you a truly broken man.
cause when it gets to midnight, I dont know who I am.
Full moons a-callin, and its put a curse on me,
And it will never set me free.
The full moons still up there,
Like a great white balloon.
The owls are a-callin,
And theyre singin my tune.
The night keeps a-callin.
I wish the day would come soon,
To get away from another full moon.
Here comes another full moon.
If your hands start shakin
When night starts to fall,
If youre scared of the moonlight
And the shadows on the wall,
If the face in the mirror
Isnt you at all,
Its just another full moon.
Its just another full moon.
La la la la la la.
La la la la la la.
La la la la la la.
La la la la la la.
Its just another full moon.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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At The Last.
The sky grows white with the moon,
And the sea yearns up to the night
As the soul to an unknown height,
Drawn thence by a starry rune.
Only a lost wind strays,
Like the breath of Passion blown
In the vault of the night unknown;
And the heart in me sobs and says:
'After a while we, too,
Shall rest as the stars above,
When we have no more to do
With the dream of life and love.'
O Time! thy feet that run
Over the hills and waves,
Over the cradles and graves,
From the first to the final sun!
Some day thou too shalt cease —
Some way there'll come to thee
Death's white tranquility,
The boon of an awful peace —
When the latest grief shall flow
With the surge that drifts away,
And the Night shall no more go
In her endless chase of Day.
Then shall the worn heart rest,
Then shall the sad Sea yearn
No more for the Moon's return,
Like a bird on its frozen nest
Dead, with her young ones dead
Under her breast on the bough,
Where nothing can wake them now —
Not the Dawn with its golden tread:
Where Death has been good to all,
Good to the mother and young,
And the dreams are beyond recall,
And the songs have all been sung.
So, at the last, to sleep!
So, at the last, to be
Still as the dead still sea!
Never to wake and weep,
Never to know Love's pain,
Never to yearn on for
What is gone for evermore;
To be as we were again
Ere we came o'er the bourne of birth,
Ere we knew of the fading flowers,
Of love and of life on Earth
And the hearts that were not ours!
poem by Robert Crawford
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How Slow
How slow the time passes
On hot summer days,
How heavy the air,
And the heat, and the haze.
How slow the sun's creeping
In reaching for noon,
How long now the day-time
Belonging to June.
How dry lies the earth
In the farmer's old hands,
How slow plod the herds
As they stroll off his land.
How sweet the bird sings
In the old apple tree,
How slow the leaves falling
O'er pathway and lea.
How far the bell tolls
Over green evening fields,
How close now the haymakers'
Singing and reels.
How slow the time passes
In twilight's night shade,
How slow fell the footsteps
True lovers once made.
Written March 1995
poem by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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