Related quotes: With grief and mourning I...

The Girl's Lamentation

With grief and mourning I sit to spin;
My Love passed by, and he didn't come in;
He passes by me, both day and night,
And carries off my poor heart's delight.

There is a tavern in yonder town,
My Love goes there and he spends a crown;
He takes a strange girl upon his knee,
And never more gives a thought to me.

Says he, 'We'll wed without loss of time,
And sure our love's but a little crime;'-
My apron-string now it's wearing short,
And my Love he seeks other girls to court.

O with him I'd go if I had my will,
I'd follow him barefoot o'er rock and hill;
I'd never once speak of all my grief
If he'd give me a smile for my heart's relief.

In our wee garden the rose unfolds,
With bachelor's-buttons and marigolds;
I'll tie no posies for dance or fair,
A willow-twig is for me to wear.

For a maid again I can never be,
Till the red rose blooms on the willow tree.
Of such a trouble I've heard them tell,
And now I know what it means full well.

As through the long lonesome night I lie,
I'd give the world if I might but cry;
But I mus'n't moan there or raise my voice,
And the tears run down without any noise.

And what, O what will my mother say?
She'll wish her daughter was in the clay.
My father will curse me to my face;
The neighbours will know of my black disgrace.

My sister's buried three years, come Lent;
But sure we made far too much lament.
Beside her grave they still say a prayer-
I wish to God 'twas myself was there!

The Candlemas crosses hang near my bed;
To look at them puts me much in dread,
They mark the good time that's gone and past:
It's like this year's one will prove the last.

The oldest cross it's a dusty brown,
But the winter winds didn't shake it down;
The newest cross keeps the colour bright;
When the straw was reaping my heart was light.

The reapers rose with the blink of morn,
And gaily stook'd up the yellow corn;
To call them home to the field I'd run,
Through the blowing breeze and the summer sun.

When the straw was weaving my heart was glad,
For neither sin nor shame I had,
In the barn where oat-chaff was flying round,
And the thumping flails made a pleasant sound.

Now summer or winter to me it's one;
But oh! for a day like the time that's gone.
I'd little care was it storm or shine,
If I had but peace in this heart of mine.

Oh! light and false is a young man's kiss,
And a foolish girl gives her soul for this.
Oh! light and short is the young man's blame,
And a helpless girl has the grief and shame.

To the river-bank once I thought to go,
And cast myself in the stream below;
I thought 'twould carry us far out to sea,
Where they'd never find my poor babe and me.

Sweet Lord, forgive me that wicked mind!
You know I used to be well-inclined.
Oh, take compassion upon my state,
Because my trouble is so very great.

My head turns round with the spinning wheel,
And a heavy cloud on my eyes I feel.
But the worst of all is at my heart's core;
For my innocent days will come back no more.

poem by William Allingham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

Marie (unattainable love)

When I wake up in the morning my first thought is of Marie,
She’s the girl I think of all the time, she’s the girl I want for me.
Her smile is so inviting, her eyes of full of glee,
She’s the girl I think of all the time, she’s the girl I want for me.
Because she is so beautiful, I love her tenderly,
She’s the girl I think of all the time, she’s the girl I want for me.
Though she is so far from me, so far across the sea,
She’s the girl I think of all the time, she’s the girl I want for me.
At times I raise my head in prayer, Oh Lord please hear my plea,
She’s the girl I want to be with, she’s the girl I want for me.

My heart’s in Indiana, where the rest of me should be,
With the girl I think of all the time, with the girl I want for me.
And though I’ve never met her, to my heart she has the key,
She’s the girl I think of all the time, she’s the girl I want for me.
And in my dreams she whispers that she’ll never set me free,
But she’s the girl I think of all the time, she’s the girl I want for me.
It really breaks my heart in two that my dream may never be,
With the girl I think of all the time, with the girl I want for me.
And when I close my eyes at night, my last thought is of Marie,
Of the girl I think of all the time, of the girl I want for me

poem by Stuart Rae
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

When I Was A Young Girl

(A Song of Old Ballads)

WHEN I was a young girl, all in a green arbor,
When I was a young girl in Springtimes gone by
All the long days I went singing and smiling,
Down by the roses the sweet days beguiling,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!

Oh, the long days I must sit at my sampler,
Oh, the slow way that the still time would go!
I longed to be running across the bright heather,
'Off with the silk gown and on with the leather,
Following the raggle-taggle gypsies, oh!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!

When I was a young girl in days that were golden,
When I was a young girl, and life had no smart,
All the world seemed a place for my playing,
Full of great lovers to come to me, saying,
'Madam, I give you the keys of my heart . . .'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, and dreaming apart!

When I was a young girl, I dreamed of my lover,
A tall cavalier who should whisper me low,
'Love, on your lips are red roses a-blowing,
I am your true love, and fast is time going
Am I your true love? Oh, say yes or no!'
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl–
When I was a young girl, a long time ago!

When I was a young girl there came my true lover,
Swiftly I knew him in glad days gone by;
Never a sword or a lovelock or feather,
But oh, at his touch 'twas our hearts came together,
Love in the arbor and love in the sky . . .
When I was a young girl, a young girl, a young girl,
When I was a young girl, how happy was I!

poem by Margaret Widdemer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Laura Lee and Her Rose

My name is Laura Lee
And I enjoy spending my time
Playing in the sunlight
With my little Rose,
The daughter of my dreams,
She came to me
As welcome as a lilac breeze
Four years ago when I was twenty.

I’m married to her father
Who is seven years older than me,
I was a young girl
And he was tall and handsome,
His words were sweet
Like tree-ripened summer fruit
And he made me feel loved
Like I never felt before.

When Rose was born,
The love that was inside of me
Was like a small seed taking form,
Blossoming into flower and soul,
Transforming me into mother
And no longer a little girl,
She was the petals of my heart.

But the father of my Rose
No longer appreciated the garden
From which his flower sprung,
The mother that gave him
Such a lovely fragrance
That will linger long into the world
With his same blue eyes,
He no longer kissed me tenderly like before,
I felt rejected and despised.

Rose’s father began offering
His sun-sweetened words to other girls
Even younger than me,
Staying out late into the night
Roaming the city streets
Seeking superficial pleasures
Instead of tending his garden and his flower.

My heart broke like delicate chinaware,
I wept in a world without rainbows,
The man that gave me love
Now treated me harshly and unkind;
I know, I’ll have to leave him
And find all my hope
In the flower that came from me
And the flower that will always be in me.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Bright Light Girl

I know a woman
Never knew no one like her
She said "The world's made up of angels
Beautiful and fair."

She would give you anything
Give it all away
Just for one half moment
Believing love would stay

You're a bright light girl
Shine into his world
How you know your love is coming true
You're a bright light girl
In a disbelieving world
Now someone believes as much as you
And now you know he really loves you too

She opened up for trouble
Saw him come on strong
But when he could not meet her eyes
She thought she'd done it wrong
Each time love abused her
She would take the shame
Each time love would lose her
She would take the blame

song performed by by Heart from Private Audition
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Signing the Pledge

Do you see this cup, this tempting cup,
Its sparkle and its glow?
I tell you this cup has brought to me
A world of shame and woe.

Do you see that woman sad and wan?
One day with joy and pride,
With orange blossoms in her hair,
I claimed her as my bride.

And vowed that I would faithful prove
Till death our lives should part;
I've drenched her soul with floods of grief,
And almost crushed her heart.

Do you see that grayp;haired mother bend
Beneath her weight of years?
I've filled that aged mother's eyes
With many bitter tears.

Year after year for me she prays,
And tries her child to save;
I've almost brought her gray hairs down
In sorrow to the grave.

Do you see that boy whose wistful eyes
Are gazing on my face?
I've overshadowed his young life
With sorrow and disgrace.

He used to greet me with a smile,
His heart was light and glad;
I've seen him tremble at my voice,
I've made that heart so sad.

Do you see this pledge I've signed to-night?
My mother, wife, and boy
Shall read my purpose on that pledge
And smile through tears of joy.

To know this night, this very night,
I cast the winep;cup down,
And from the dust of a sinful life
Lift up my manhood's crown.

The faded face of my young wife
With roses yet shall bloom,
And joy shall light my mother's eyes
On the margin of the tomb.

I have vowed top;night my only boy,
With brow so fair and mile,
Shall not be taunted on the streets,
And called a drunkard's child.

Never again shall that young face
Whiten with grief and dread,
Because I've madly staggered home
And sold for drink his bread.

This strong right arm unnerved by rum
Shall battle with my fate;
And peace and comfort crown the home
By drink made desolate.

Like a drowning man, tempestp;tossed,
Clings to a rocky ledge,
With trembling hands I've learned to grasp
The gospel and the pledge.

A captive bounding from my chain,
I've rent each hateful band,
And by the help of grace divine
A victor hope to stand.

poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

All Of A Piece

ALL of a piece were the sunset light,
The rose in the tree, and the golden girl;
Beauty, the weaver, 'twas that wove them,
Weaving deftly, as Beauty can,
Just to capture the eyes of a man,
Just to make the heart of him love them,
Setting the blood in his veins a-swirl;
Ah, the rose, and the girl, its piece-mate!
Ah, the sunset of rose and pearl!
All of a piece are the faded light,
The rose in the mire and the girl grown old;
Beauty, the trickster, 'twas that wove them,
Weaving deftly, as Beauty can,
Just to capture the soul of a man,
Just to make the heart of him love them,
Then to sicken and grow grave-cold;
Fragile wear is the cloth of Beauty —
Rose and sunset and girl of gold!

poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Tenth Sunday After Trinity

Why doth my Saviour weep
At sight of Sion's bowers?
Shows it not fair from yonder steep,
Her gorgeous crown of towers?
Mark well His holy pains:
'Tis not in pride or scorn,
That Israel's King with sorrow stains
His own triumphal morn.

It is not that His soul
Is wandering sadly on,
In thought how soon at death's dark goal
Their course will all be run,
Who now are shouting round
Hosanna to their chief;
No thought like this in Him is found,
This were a Conquerer's grief.

Or doth He feel the Cross
Already in His heart,
The pain, the shame, the scorn, the loss?
Feel e'en His God depart?
No: though He knew full well
The grief that then shall be -
The grief that angels cannot tell -
Our God in agony.

It is not thus He mourns;
Such might be martyr's tears,
When his last lingering look he turns
On human hopes and fears;
But hero ne'er or saint
The secret load might know,
With which His spirit waxeth faint;
His is a Saviour's woe.

"If thou had'st known, e'en thou,
At least in this thy day,
The message of thy peace! but now
'Tis passed for aye away:
Now foes shall trench thee round,
And lay thee even with earth,
And dash thy children to the ground,
Thy glory and thy mirth."

And doth the Saviour weep
Over His people's sin,
Because we will not let Him keep
The souls He died to win?
Ye hearts, that love the Lord,
If at this, sight ye burn,
See that in thought, in deed, in word,
Ye hate what made Him mourn.

poem by John Keble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Complaint of Lisa

There is no woman living who draws breath
So sad as I, though all things sadden her.
There is not one upon life's weariest way
Who is weary as I am weary of all but death.
Toward whom I look as looks the sunflower
All day with all his whole soul toward the sun;
While in the sun's sight I make moan all day,
And all night on my sleepless maiden bed.
Weep and call out on death, O Love, and thee,
That thou or he would take me to the dead.
And know not what thing evil I have done
That life should lay such heavy hand on me.

Alas! Love, what is this thou wouldst with me?
What honor shalt thou have to quench my breath,
Or what shall my heart broken profit thee?
O Love, O great god Love, what have I done,
That thou shouldst hunger so after my death?
My heart is harmless as my life's first day:
Seek out some false fair woman, and plague her
Till her tears even as my tears fill her bed:
I am the least flower in thy flowery way,
But till my time be come that I be dead,
Let me live out my flower-time in the sun,
Though my leaves shut before the sunflower.

O Love, Love, Love, the kingly sunflower!
Shall he the sun hath looked on look on me,
That live down here in shade, out of the sun,
Here living in the sorrow and shadow of death?
Shall he that feeds his heart full of the day
Care to give mine eyes light, or my lips breath?
Because she loves him, shall my lord love her
Who is as a worm in my lord's kingly way?
I shall not see him or know him alive or dead;
But thou, I know thee, O Love, and pray to thee
That in brief while my brief life-days be done,
And the worm quickly make my marriage-bed.

For underground there is no sleepless bed.
But here since I beheld my sunflower
These eyes have slept not, seeing all night and day
His sunlike eyes, and face fronting the sun.
Wherefore, if anywhere be any death,
I fain would find and fold him fast to me,
That I may sleep with the world's eldest dead,
With her that died seven centuries since, and her
That went last night down the night-wandering way.
For this is sleep indeed, when labor is done,
Without love, without dreams, and without breath,
And without thought, O name unnamed! of thee.

Ah! but, forgetting all things, shall I thee?
Wilt thou not be as now about my bed
There underground as here before the sun?
Shall not thy vision vex me alive and dead,
Thy moving vision without form or breath?
I read long since the bitter tale of her
Who read the tale of Launcelot on a day,
And died, and had no quiet after death,
But was moved ever along a weary way,
Lost with her love in the underworld; ah me,
O my king, O my lordly sunflower,
Would God to me, too, such a thing were done!

But if such sweet and bitter things be done,
Then, flying from life, I shall not fly from thee.
For in that living world without a sun
Thy vision will lay hold upon me dead,
And meet and mock me, and mar my peace in death.
Yet if being wroth, God had such pity on her,
Who was a sinner and foolish in her day,
That even in hell they twain should breathe one breath,
Why should he not in some wise pity me?
So if I sleep not in my soft strait bed,
I may look up and see my sunflower
As he the sun, in some divine strange way.

O poor my heart, well knowest thou in what way
This sore sweet evil unto us was done.
For on a holy and a heavy day
I was arisen out of my still small bed
To see the knights tilt, and one said to me
"The king;" and seeing him, somewhat stopped my breath;
And if the girl spake more, I heard her not,
For only I saw what I shall see when dead,
A kingly flower of knights, a sunflower,
That shone against the sunlight like the sun,
And like a fire, O heart, consuming thee,
The fire of love that lights the pyre of death.

Howbeit I shall not die an evil death
Who have loved in such a sad and sinless way,
That this my love, lord, was no shame to thee.
So when mine eyes are shut against the sun,
O my soul's sun, O the world's sunflower,
Thou nor no man will quite despise me dead.
And dying I pray with all my low last breath
That thy whole life may be as was that day,
That feast-day that made trothplight death and me,
Giving the world light of thy great deeds done;
And that fair face brightening thy bridal bed,
That God be good as God hath been to her.

That all things goodly and glad remain with her,
All things that make glad life and goodly death;
That as a bee sucks from a sunflower
Honey, when summer draws delighted breath,
Her soul may drink of thy soul in like way,
And love make life a fruitful marriage-bed
Where day may bring forth fruits of joy to day
And night to night till days and nights be dead.
And as she gives light of her love to thee,
Give thou to her the old glory of days long done;
And either give some heat of light to me,
To warm me where I sleep without the sun.

O sunflower make drunken with the sun,
O knight whose lady's heart draws thine to her,
Great king, glad lover, I have a word to thee.
There is a weed lives out of the sun's way,
Hid from the heat deep in the meadow's bed,
That swoons and whitens at the wind's least breath,
A flower star-shaped, that all a summer day
Will gaze her soul out on the sunflower
For very love till twilight finds her dead.
But the great sunflower heeds not her poor death,
Knows not when all her loving life is done;
And so much knows my lord the king of me.

Ay, all day long he has no eye for me;
With golden eye following the golden sun
From rose-colored to purple-pillowed bed,
From birthplace to the flame-lit place of death,
From eastern end to western of his way,
So mine eye follows thee, my sunflower,
So the white star-flower turns and yearns to thee,
The sick weak weed, not well alive or dead,
Trod under foot if any pass by her,
Pale, without color of summer or summer breath
In the shrunk shuddering petals, that have done
No work but love, and die before the day.

But thou, to-day, to-morrow, and every day,
Be glad and great, O love whose love slays me.
Thy fervent flower made fruitful from the sun
Shall drop its golden seed in the world's way,
That all men thereof nourished shall praise thee
For grain and flower and fruit of works well done;
Till thy shed seed, O shining sunflower,
Bring forth such growth of the world's garden-bed
As like the sun shall outlive age and death.
And yet I would thine heart had heed of her
Who loves thee alive; but not till she be dead.
Come, Love, then, quickly, and take her utmost breath.

Song, speak for me who am dumb as are the dead;
From my sad bed of tears I send forth thee,
To fly all day from sun's birth to sun's death
Down the sun's way after the flying sun,
For love of her that gave thee wings and breath
Ere day be done, to seek the sunflower.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Go Go Around

Alone upon the sidewalks of despair
'Twas there she wandered
With her suitcase in her hand
Her fate she pondered
Only a go-go girl in love with someone who didn't care
She met him on a night so rare when her friends were there
And the band was groovin'
When he gave a glance that said how much he would like to meet her
How was she to know at the time
He would mistreat her
In her case she danced for him although a hundred eyes were turned her
way
And before the set was through he knew
She would be his loved one
Only a go-go girl in love with someone who didn't care
Only twenty-one, she was a young girl just in from somewhere
He's playin' up in Michigan with a group they call The Intended
With a kiss, and a promise, he was gone
The song was ended
But as she walks, she waits for him the pavement is a shoulder for her
tears
But in her heart she knows there is no way
She can hope to change him
Only a go-go girl in love with someone who didn't care
Only twenty-one, she was a young girl just in from somewhere
Only a go-go girl in love with someone who didn't care
A go-go girl in love

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

My First Kiss

In the bed of crimson joy
Lies a baby boy
Whose parent begot him?
Through the mighty locks of the tongue

Yet as he grows
And everyday as he moves he frowns
Because he does not believe
In the mighty devil called kiss

Yet still he frowns
At every girl he meets a dawn
Are the girls mad? He says
Or do they find means to kill

But as his heart grow older
He found out he could not hold on
So he must get the girl
That he despise so much as dirt

No girl would look at him
For it was he who insulted them
So he become frustrated
And decided to end his life
But he never gave up
Though he decided to end his life
Which he could not do
For countless time he tried

He tried hard to search for love
So he can be called a man
So he searched and searched
In the heat of the sun he searched

To search for what
His heart so much desire
In the sunny days
That brings too much sweat

As lucky as he was
Love finds him as he walks
To the path of wonderland
Through the moony light

It made his heart
So glad
That he become
Very sad
Love touched him so soft
That it made his body grow weak
But he touched love back
Lo and behold he got so strong

Love planted a kiss
On his mouth so dry
That it made him quiver
For the devil called kiss he so much despise

For he said to himself
I thought love lived in the sun
But ooh he lives in the moony light
Were he shines and brightens the night

I thought to find love
In the heat of the day
But sweet love is indeed
The great comforter of night

For this man was me
In my early days when I was young
That I despise do much
The devil called kiss

poem by Samuel Donkor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Song from Aella

O SING unto my roundelay,
O drop the briny tear with me;
Dance no more at holyday,
Like a running river be: