Related quotes: Yet so it was. Adrian...

Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XXVI

Yet so it was. Adrian had hardly set
His lips to those cold lips where death had been,
His eyes those clammy eyelids scarce had wet
With his warm tears and poured his soul between,
Nor yet with eager hands had he undone
That bosom's fastness of its snowy fold,
Ere, lo, on his rapt ear there fell a moan
As of one waking in the night grown cold.
And, even as he held her in his arms,
And gazed into her face by the dim light,
He saw her blue eyes open in alarms,
As wondering who was with her in the night,
And a long shudder pass through all her frame,
And her lips move as half she breathed his name.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Related quotes

The Tryst

I raised the veil, I loosed the bands,
I took the dead thing from its place.
Like a warm stream in frozen lands
My lips went wandering on her face,
My hands burnt in her hands.

She could not stay me, being dead;
Her body here was mine to hold.
What if her lips had lost their red?
To me they always tasted cold
With the cold words she said.

Did my breath run along her hair,
And free the pulse, and fire the brain,
My wild blood wake her wild blood there?
Here eyelids lifted wide again
In a blue, sudden stare.

Beneath my fierce, profane caress
The whole white length of body moved;
The drowsy bosom seemed to press
As if against a breast beloved,
Then fail for weariness.

No, not that anguish! Christ forbid
That I should raise such dead! I rose,
Stifled the mouth with lilies, hid
Those eyes, And drew the long hair close,
And shut the coffin lid.

My cold brow on the cold wood laid,
Quiet and close to-night we lie.
No cruel words her lips have said.
I shall not take nor she deny.
The dead is with the dead.

poem by Muriel Stuart
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Clair de Lune

In the moonlit room your face,
Moonlight-coloured, fainting white,
And the silence of the place
Round about us in the night,
And my arms are round about you
In the silence of the night.

Lips that are not mine to kiss,
Lips how often kissed in vain,
Broken seal of memories,
Where the kisses come again
That the lips of all your lovers
Laid upon your lips in vain;

Eyes that are not mine to keep
In the mirror of mine eyes,
Where I tremble lest from sleep
Other ghosts should re-arise;
Why enthrall me with your magic,
Haunting lips, triumphant eyes?

For the silence of the night
Swims around me like a stream,
And your eyes have caught the light
Of a moon-enchanted dream,
And your arms glide round about me,
And I fade into a dream.

poem by Arthur Symons
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Villanelle

We said farewell, my youth and I,
When all fair dreams were gone or going,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry.
When white blooms fell from tree-tops high—
Our Austral winter’s way of snowing—
We said farewell, my youth and I.

We did not sigh—what use to sigh
When Death passed as a mower mowing,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry?

But hearing Life’s stream thunder by,
That sang of old through flowers flowing,
We said farewell, my youth and I.

There was no hope in the blue sky,
No music in the low winds blowing,
And Love’s red lips were cold and dry.

My hair is black as yet, then why
So sad! I know not, only knowing
We said farewell, my youth and I.

All are not buried when they die;
Dead souls there are through live eyes showing
When Love’s red lips are cold and dry.

So, seeing where the dead men lie,
Out of their hearts the grave-flowers growing,
We said farewell, my youth and I,
When Love’s red lips were cold and dry.

poem by Victor James Daley
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I Bet You're Mad At Me

Don't justify
For what you are
And where you've been
For who you are tonight
So lonesome tonight
Make believe
Just hanging on
You're crazy
That's who are you tonight
All over tonight
Tell the world
You're still afraid
Been on this road too long
Falling soft
But raining hard
So wrap up well
It's freezing cold tonight
So cold tonight
Tell me all
I need to know
I'll spare your fears
So sad to see tonight
The tears you cry tonight
I stayed away
A long time now
But I'll be home tonight
I bet you're mad at me
Can't you read my lips
I see your eyes of blue
What you want from me
It's not the way it should be
You've got the world to give
I gave you all my love
But you're mad at me
(tonight)
(all over tonight)
Tell the world
You're still afraid
Been on this road too long
I bet you're mad at me
Can't you read my lips
I see your eyes of blue
What you want from me
It's not the way it should be
You've got the world to give
I gave you all my love
But you're mad at me
I bet you're mad at me
Can't you read my lips
I see your eyes of blue
What you want from me
It's not the way it should be
You've got the world to give
I gave you all my love
But you're mad at me
I bet you're mad at me
Can't you read my lips
I see your eyes of blue
What you want from me
It's not the way it should be
You've got the world to give
I gave you all my love
But you're mad at me
I bet you're mad at me
Can't you read my lips
I see your eyes of blue
What you want from me
It's not the way it should be
You've got the world to give
I gave you all my love
But you're mad at me

song performed by by Erasure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Accession

ONCE I loved, and my heart bowed down,
Subject and slave, for Love was a King;
He sat above with sceptre and crown,
Turning his eyes from my sorrowing.
The laugh of a god on his lips lay light--
His lips victorious that mocked my pain,
And I mourned in the cold and the outer night,
And my tears and my prayers were vain.

Now the old spell is over and done,
Myself I wear the ermine and gold,
My brows are crowned, I ascend the throne,
I have taken the sceptre and orb to hold.
I smile victorious, set far above
The music of voices that moan and pray,
My feet are wet with the tears of love,
And I turn my eyes away.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Our Hands Have Met

Our hands have met, our lips have met
Our souls - who knows when the wind blows
How light souls drift mid longings set,
If thou forget'st, can I forget
The time that was not long ago?

Thou wert not silent then, but told
Sweet secrets dear - I drew so near
Thy shamefaced cheeks grown overbold,
That scarce thine eyes might I behold!
Ah was it then so long ago!

Trembled my lips and thou wouldst turn
But hadst no heart to draw apart,
Beneath my lips thy cheek did burn -
Yet no rebuke that I might learn;
Yea kind looks still, not long ago.

Wilt thou be glad upon the day
When unto me this love shall be
An idle fancy passed away,
And we shall meet and smile and say
'O wasted sighs of long ago!'

Wilt thou rejoice that thou hast set
Cold words, dull shows 'twixt hearts drawn close,
That cold at heart I live on yet,
Forgetting still that I forget
The priceless days of long ago?

poem by William Morris
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Her Eyes Say Yes

Her eyes say Yes, her lips say No.
Ah, tell me, Love, when she denies,
Shall I believe the lips or eyes?
Bid eyes no more dissemble,
Or lips too tremble
The way her heart would go!

Love may be vowed by lips, although
Cold truth, in unsurrendering eyes,
The armistice of lips denies.
But can fond eyes dissemble,
Or false lips tremble
To this soft Yes in No?

poem by Arthur Symons
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Out In The Cold

The day fell down, the air got cold
I walked out in the street
Daydreamed for a mil e or two
Staring at my feet
Like a workin boy, out of luck
Fallin through the cracks
Night rolled in, I turned back home
A hard wind at my back
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Th eres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Well I woke up
My brain was stunned
I could come around
I reached out to grab my keys
Tumbled to the ground
I thought of you
Starry eyed
I wondered where we stand
Did I just fall from your arms
Down into your hands
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Theres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Im out
Standin in a doorway
Im out
Walkin around
Hands in my pockets
Im out in the cold (out in the cold)
Body and soul (out in the cold)
Theres nowhere to go (out in the cold)
Im out in the cold (o ut in the cold)

song performed by by Tom Petty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stone

"And will you cut a stone for him,
To set above his head?
And will you cut a stone for him--
A stone for him?" she said.

Three days before, a splintered rock
Had struck her lover dead--
Had struck him in the quarry dead,
Where, careless of a warning call,
He loitered, while the shot was fired--
A lively stripling, brave and tall,
And sure of all his heart desired . . .
A flash, a shock,
A rumbling fall . . .
And, broken 'neath the broken rock,
A lifeless heap, with face of clay,
And still as any stone he lay,
With eyes that saw the end of all.

I went to break the news to her:
And I could hear my own heart beat
With dread of what my lips might say;
But some poor fool had sped before;
And, flinging wide her father's door,
Had blurted out the news to her,
Had struck her lover dead for her,
Had struck the girl's heart dead in her,
Had struck life, lifeless, at a word,
And dropped it at her feet:
Then hurried on his witless way,
Scarce knowing she had heard.

And when I came, she stood alone--
A woman, turned to stone:
And, though no word at all she said,
I knew that all was known.

Because her heart was dead,
She did not sigh nor moan.
His mother wept:
She could not weep.
Her lover slept:
She could not sleep.
Three days, three nights,
She did not stir:
Three days, three nights,
Were one to her,
Who never closed her eyes
From sunset to sunrise,
From dawn to evenfall--
Her tearless, staring eyes,
That, seeing naught, saw all.

The fourth night when I came from work,
I found her at my door.
"And will you cut a stone for him?"
She said: and spoke no more:
But followed me, as I went in,
And sank upon a chair;
And fixed her grey eyes on my face,
With still, unseeing stare.
And, as she waited patiently,
I could not bear to feel
Those still, grey eyes that followed me,
Those eyes that plucked the heart from me,
Those eyes that sucked the breath from me
And curdled the warm blood in me,
Those eyes that cut me to the bone,
And cut my marrow like cold steel.

And so I rose and sought a stone;
And cut it smooth and square:
And, as I worked, she sat and watched,
Beside me, in her chair.
Night after night, by candlelight,
I cut her lover's name:
Night after night, so still and white,
And like a ghost she came;
And sat beside me, in her chair,
And watched with eyes aflame.

She eyed each stroke,
And hardly stirred:
she never spoke
A single word:
And not a sound or murmur broke
The quiet, save the mallet stroke.

With still eyes ever on my hands,
With eyes that seemed to burn my hands,
My wincing, overwearied hands,
She watched, with bloodless lips apart,
And silent, indrawn breath:
And every stroke my chisel cut,
Death cut still deeper in her heart:
The two of us were chiselling,
Together, I and Death.

And when at length my job was done,
And I had laid the mallet by,
As if, at last, her peace were won,
She breathed his name, and, with a sigh,
Passed slowly through the open door:
And never crossed my threshold more.

Next night I laboured late, alone,
To cut her name upon the stone.

poem by Wilfred Wilson Gibson
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Suffocation

Last night I had the weirdest dream
I dreamt that I was lying in bed
With this girl whose hair was
As black as the night and as
Thick as a forest,
And her hair, her hair was
Smothering me
Or at least, I thought it was
Her hair,
Until I noticed it was her hands
Running over my face,
My lips
My eyes
My cheeks.
As hot as the desert
And smooth as silk
But pressing down
Pressing me into my pillow
Until I could see nothing
But the pink of her skin
And I thought,
Im gunna die
Those hands are gunna
Kill me
Until I realized really,
It wasn’t hands,
But lips,
Sucking the air from mine
Engulfing my last breath
And drawing it into her being
And I thought, well,
At least lips are
A nice way to go
Until finally I came
To my goddamn senses
And I realized,
I realized it wasn’t her lips
But the words coming
From those sweet lips
That was suffocating me
And it was “I love you”
I was choking on
Not her hair, hands or lips
At all.

poem by Nick Downer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Souls

A THIN moon faints in the sky o'erhead,
And dumb in the churchyard lie the dead.
Walk we not, Sweet, by garden ways,
Where the late rose hangs and the phlox delays,
But forth of the gate and down the road,
Past the church and the yews, to their dim abode.
For it's turn of the year and All Souls' night,
When the dead can hear and the dead have sight.

Fear not that sound like wind in the trees:
It is only their call that comes on the breeze;
Fear not the shudder that seems to pass:
It is only the tread of their feet on the grass;
Fear not the drip of the bough as you stoop:
It is only the touch of their hands that grope -
For the year's on the turn, and it's All Souls' night,
When the dead can yearn and the dead can smite.

III

And where should a man bring his sweet to woo
But here, where such hundreds were lovers too?
Where lie the dead lips that thirst to kiss,
The empty hands that their fellows miss,
Where the maid and her lover, from sere to green,
Sleep bed by bed, with the worm between?
For it's turn of the year and All Souls' night,
When the dead can hear and the dead have sight.

And now that they rise and walk in the cold,
Let us warm their blood and give youth to the old.
Let them see us and hear us, and say: 'Ah, thus
In the prime of the year it went with us!'
Till their lips drawn close, and so long unkist,
Forget they are mist that mingles with mist!
For the year's on the turn, and it's All Souls' night,
When the dead can burn and the dead can smite.

Till they say, as they hear us - poor dead, poor dead! -
'Just an hour of this, and our age-long bed -
Just a thrill of the old remembered pains
To kindle a flame in our frozen veins,
Just a touch, and a sight, and a floating apart,
As the chill of dawn strikes each phantom heart -
For it's turn of the year and All Souls' night,
When the dead can hear, and the dead have sight.'

And where should the living feel alive
But here in this wan white humming hive,
As the moon wastes down, and the dawn turns cold,
And one by one they creep back to the fold?
And where should a man hold his mate and say:
'One more, one more, ere we go their way'?
For the year's on the turn, and it's All Souls' night,
When the living can learn by the churchyard light.

VII

And how should we break faith who have seen
Those dead lips plight with the mist between,
And how forget, who have seen how soon
They lie thus chambered and cold to the moon?
How scorn, how hate, how strive, we too,
Who must do so soon as those others do?
For it's All Souls' night, and break of the day,
And behold, with the light the dead are away. . . .

poem by Edith Wharton
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Forbidden Fruit

He presses it to his lips,
Bares his teeth,
And nips at the flesh.
Sweet liquid escapes his lips
And races with his tongue
From the corner
Of his mouth.
He catches the nectarous droplet
And draws it back inside.
Oh my!
How I long for a taste!
To touch his delicious lips with mine.
To fold my tongue through
The warm sweetness of him
Again...again and again.
Ohhhh to hear my name groaned
Through his baritone voice
As my body sings his song.

His eyes....his beautiful eyes are....

Uh oh! !

He sees me!

I feel crimson warmth spread
Across my face
And wonder..
How long have I been staring at him?

poem by Ruby Honeytip
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It's Cold Out Here

I really can't stay
But baby it's cold outside
I've got to go 'way
But baby it's cold outside
This evening has been
Been hoping that you'd drop in
So very nice
I'll hold your hands they're just like ice.
My mother will start to worry
Beautiful what's your hurry?
And father will be pacing the floor
Listen to the fireplace roar
So really I'd better scurry
Beautiful please don't hurry
Well maybe just a half a drink more
Put some music on while I pour.
The neighbors might think
But baby it's bad out there
Say what's in this drink
No cabs to be had out there
I wish I knew how
Your eyes are like starlight now
To break this spell
I'll take your hat your hair looks swell.
I oughta say no no no sir
Mind if I move a bit closer?
At least I'm gonna say that I tried
What's the sense of hurting my pride
I really can't stay
Oh baby don't hold out
Ah, but it's cold outside
Baby it's cold outside
I simply must go
But baby it's cold outside
The answer is No
Ooh baby it's cold outside
The welcome has been
How lucky that you dropped in
So nice and warm
Look out the window at that storm.
My sister will be suspicious
My your lips look delicious
My brother will be there at the door
Waves upon a tropical shore
My maiden aunt's mind is vicious
Gosh your lips are delicious
Well maybe just a half-a-drink more
Never such a blizzard before.
I've got to get home
But baby you'd freeze out there
Say lend me a comb
It's up to your knees out there
You've really been grand
Your eyes are like starlight now*
But don't you see
How can you do this thing to me?
There's bound to be talk tomorrow
Think of my lifelong sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied
If you caught pneumonia and died
I really can't stay
Get over that old doubt,
Ah, but it's cold outside
Baby it's cold outside
It's cold out side.
It's cold out side.

song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Looking at a Portrait

O why are there eyes like these,
That sparkle and dapple and tease,
So wide with the morning, so deep with the night,
Dancing and gleaming in passioned delight?
O why are there eyes like these?

O why are there lips like these?
Caressed by the southern breeze,
That beckon and call and hold a slave
All who therewith each soul-cry leave?
O why are there lips like these?

O why are there arms like these?
That crumple and crush as they please
A weak man's heart, and in their embrace
Bring a glow of red to a strong man's face?
O why are there arms like these?

poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
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A Dream Of Resurrection

SO heavenly beautiful it lay,
It was less like a human corse
Than that fair shape in which perforce
A lost hope clothes itself alway.

The dream showed very plain: the bed
Where that known unknown face reposed,--
A woman's face with eyelids closed,
A something precious that was dead;

A something, lost on this side life,
By which the mourner came and stood,
And laid down, ne'er to be indued,
All flaunting robes of earthly strife;

Shred off, like votive locks of hair,
Youth's ornaments of pride and strength,
And cast them in their golden length
The silence of that bier to share.

No tears fell,--but with gazings long
Lorn memory tried to print that face
On the heart's ever-vacant place,
With a sun-finger, sharp and strong.--

Then kisses, dropping without sound,
And solemn arms wound round the dead,
And lifting from the natural bed
Into the coffin's strange new bound.

Yet still no farewell, or belief
In death, no more than one believes
In some dread truth that sudden weaves
The whole world in a shroud of grief.

And still unanswered kisses; still
Warm clingings to the image cold
With an incredulous faith's close fold,
Creative in its fierce 'I will.'

Hush,--hush! the marble eyelids move,
The kissed lips quiver into breath:
Avaunt, thou mockery of Death!
Avaunt!--we are conquerors, I and Love.

Corpse of dead Hope, awake, arise,
A living Hope that only slept
Until the tears thus overwept
Had washed the blindness from our eyes.

Come back into the upper day:
Pluck off these cerements. Patient shroud,
We'll wrap thee as a garment proud
Round the fair shape we thought was clay.

Clasp, arms; cling, soul; eyes, drink anew
The beauty that returns with breath:
Faith, that out-loved this trance-like death,
May see this resurrection too.

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet XXIV

And, feeling round him, lo, upon the mould
A pick and spade cast down by accident.
And Adrian laughed when in those engines cold
He guessed the furtherers of his heart's intent.
And all night through he wrought with them in rage,
As miners do who know the prize at hand.
Blest Adrian! Now thy lips thou shalt engage
In the full solace thy long love has planned.
Her face is near thee. Speed thee on thy task.
Her breast's fair purity is thine to kiss.
She shall not now deny though thou shouldst ask
Her whole soul's prize in ransom of thy bliss.
Thrice happy Adrian! See, thy hands have slid
Trembling on thy Natalia's coffin lid.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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En Tout Cas

WHEN I am glad I need your eyes
To be the stars of Paradise;
Your lips to be the seal of all
The joy life grants, and dreams recall;
Your hand, to lie my hands between
What time we walk the garden green.

But most in grief I need your face
To lean to mine in the desert place;
Your lips to mock the evil years,
To sweeten me my cup of tears,
Your eyes to shine, in cloud's despite,
Your hands to hold mine through the night.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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On a dream about you

On a dream about you
~
I dreamt about you last night
Where you lay in my arms sleeping
I kissed your brow goodnight
And held you as close as I dare
I closed my eyes and fell asleep
We lay together so peaceful
Upon waking still within the dream
I brushed back your hair
Saw you smiling back at me
Tightly we held each other
While we said our good mornings
You placed your head upon my chest
As I wished this moment to last
That we may never leave nor change
I told you I loved you
That I would make you my wife
I held you close in my arms
Kissed your fair lips
And awoke alone to write
On a dream about you
I dreamt last night

poem by Matthew Holloway
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A Mother and her Dead Child

Looking back
it seemed
the child

was not to be
always there,
not through lack

of love or care,
but something
that came to her

in dreams of dread
at night asleep in bed.
She tries to retake

in dreams
the child back,
to pretend

that through
wishful thinking
she can make up

the lack.
Arms fold
into cradle

as once they had
when child lay
in arm's hold,

snuggled
and warm,
alive and moving,

seeking out with
eyes and fingers
her mother's dug.

Rock-abye-baby
no more,
the arms

and hands
redundant,
the last time

she recalls
the dead child
in arms,

rocking
back and forth,
as if this might cure

and bring back
to life,
might stir open

eyes, jog open
lips and mouth
to suck.

Not to be
just the memory,
ill luck.

poem by Terry Collett
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On a night sky

On a night sky
~
How quiet, how still
This countless hour
We lay together in silence
Peering through the open window
Upon a cloudless star lit sky
How peaceful the world now seems
My eyes fall to your face
Half lit in the soft glow of night
Never before have I seen anything
As beautiful to my heart and soul
I hold all you are in my hands
Feel your lips against my own
As though such feeling will never end
And that the beauty I look upon
As endless as the night sky itself
Silent, still, effortlessly beautiful
More than I could ever express
Here we lay together tonight
Looking upon our own sky