
Aedh gives his Beloved certain Rhymes
Fasten your hair with a golden pin,
And bind up every wandering tress;
I bade my heart build these poor rhymes:
It worked at them, day out, day in,
Building a sorrowful loveliness
Out of the battles of old times.
You need but lift a pearl-pale hand,
And bind up your long hair and sigh;
And all men's hearts must burn and beat;
And candle-like foam on the dim sand,
And stars climbing the dew-dropping sky,
Live but to light your passing feet.
poem by William Butler Yeats

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Related quotes

He Gives His Beloved Certain Rhymes
FASTEN your hair with a golden pin,
And bind up every wandering tress;
I bade my heart build these poor rhymes:
It worked at them, day out, day in,
Building a sorrowful loveliness
Out of the battles of old times.
You need but lift a pearl-pale hand,
And bind up your long hair and sigh;
And all men's hearts must burn and beat;
And candle-like foam on the dim sand,
And stars climbing the dew-dropping sky,
Live but to light your passing feet.
poem by William Butler Yeats

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Take Care, Take Care
Bind up, bind up your dark bright hair
And hide the smouldering sunken fire.
Let it be held no more than fair,
Nor yourself guess how rare, how rare
Its movement, colour and deep fire.
Your eyes they have their consciousness,
Your lips their grave reflective smile,
Your hands their cunning for distress:
Your hair has only beauteousness
And hid flame for its only guile.
That glowing hair on shoulders white
Is pride past sum: take care, take care!
Even to dream of wish'd delight
Too much perturbs the ebb of night--
Bind up, bind up your burning hair!
poem by John Freeman

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The Sands Of Dee
"O Mary, go and call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home,
And call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee";
The western wind was wild and dank with foam,
And all alone went she.
The western tide crept up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,
And round and round the sand,
As far as eye could see.
The rolling mist came down and hid the land:
And never home came she.
"Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair--
A tress of golden hair,
A drownèd maiden's hair
Above the nets at sea?
Was never salmon yet that shone so fair
Among the stakes on Dee."
They rowed her in across the rolling foam,
The cruel crawling foam,
The cruel hungry foam,
To her grave beside the sea:
But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee.
poem by Charles Kingsley

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Ties
Ties that bind us.
Survive any storm.
Keep us warm
Through winter years.
And icicle tears
Will melt.
When we remember
How we have felt.
Ties that bind us
Ride on any tune.
Lighting stars to the moon.
In that fiery carriage
Of dreams.
Evil schemes
All blown away
When the wind
Whistles our melody sweet.
Shooting stars
Above a lonely street.
The ties that bind us.
Tapestry of the heart.
Woven
Before our souls could part.
Hands that touch
In silent muse.
And rhymes that echo
To defuse
The pain
Of twilight goodbyes.
You see,
You and I
Forever
Will have ties.
That bind us,
Remind us
Of love so new.
Under moonstone skies
Where white dove flew.
poem by Kevin East

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The Rose Of The World
WHO dreamed that beauty passes like a dream?
For these red lips, with all their mournful pride,
Mournful that no new wonder may betide,
Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam,
And Usna's children died.
We and the labouring world are passing by:
Amid men's souls, that waver and give place
Like the pale waters in their wintry race,
Under the passing stars, foam of the sky,
Lives on this lonely face.
Bow down, archangels, in your dim abode:
Before you were, or any hearts to beat,
Weary and kind one lingered by His seat;
He made the world to be a grassy road
Before her wandering feet.
poem by William Butler Yeats

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Complete; Rising Crimson With Love
Do you remember the time we walked on the beach
to the sound of the surf as it beat at our feet
and the sun was rising crimson with love
as we walked hand in hand and flew like the doves.
Do you remember the feel of the wind in our hair
as we sat on the sands without any cares
and the tears in our eyes were for joy not for grief
as we sat and felt as one with the beach.
Do you remember the time we walked on the beach
to the sound of the surf as it beat at our feet
your heart was in mine and mine was in yours
as we walked hand in hand on those magical shores.
Do you remember the feel of the wind in our hair
as we sat on the sands without any cares
and we joined with the ocean that came to our feet
making us the beach and the ocean complete.
Do you remember the time we walked on the beach
with the healing, the feeling, of being at peace
the sand at our feet, the surf in our mind
an ocean of stillness in one heart that's combined.
Do you remember the feel of the wind in our hair
with our eyes full of stars our hearts without cares
and a sun that was rising crimson with love
as our souls were set free into the sky up above.
Do you remember the time we walked on the beach
to the sound of the surf as it beat at our feet
and the sun was rising crimson with love
as we walked hand in hand and flew like the doves.
poem by David Taylor

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Pale & Precious
So pale and precious is the light that will shine
Out of the windows in her head
So pale and precious like the sun as it climbs
Up every morning on her bed
If all of her moments were put down in a book
Then I could read it til I went blind
If all of the tears she cried flowed into a brook
Well than Im sure it would taste like wine
Dont care what the others might say
As far as Im concerned they can all fall apart
Fade away
So pale and precious is the light that will shine
Out of her perfumed golden hair
So pale and precious are the steps that I climb
Up to her room so bright and bare
If all of the things she said were flowers and tress
Well then her garden would always be green
If all of our time together fell on one day
It would be like every christmas theres been
Dont care what the others might say
As far as Im concerned they can all fall apart
Fade away
Up she rises each and every morning
She blows the stars out of the sky
And lights the sun with her bright eyes
The smell of the pinecones
And the sea in her hair
Silver gentle
song performed by by Xtc

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cap And Bells
THE jester walked in the garden:
The garden had fallen still;
He bade his soul rise upward
And stand on her window-sill.
It rose in a straight blue garment,
When owls began to call:
It had grown wise-tongued by thinking
Of a quiet and light footfall;
But the young queen would not listen;
She rose in her pale night-gown;
She drew in the heavy casement
And pushed the latches down.
He bade his heart go to her,
When the owls called out no more;
In a red and quivering garment
It sang to her through the door.
It had grown sweet-tongued by dreaming
Of a flutter of flower-like hair;
But she took up her fan from the table
And waved it off on the air.
'I have cap and bells,' he pondered,
'I will send them to her and die';
And when the morning whitened
He left them where she went by.
She laid them upon her bosom,
Under a cloud of her hair,
And her red lips sang them a love-song
Till stars grew out of the air.
She opened her door and her window,
And the heart and the soul came through,
To her right hand came the red one,
To her left hand came the blue.
They set up a noise like crickets,
A chattering wise and sweet,
And her hair was a folded flower
And the quiet of love in her feet.
poem by William Butler Yeats

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Sir John de Vere
Sir John de Vere has took a quill
And set himself to sit and write
The sweetest love that is of men
To take unto his heart's delight.
And he has took a damsel fair
That flitteth by, beseemingly,
And with a strand of golden hair
Begun to weave her mystery.
The hair it flows from quill to sheet
In whorls and ripples it doth flow,
In twists and bends it eddies forth
To settle on the sheet below.
The hair is sweet in light perfume,
The quill it flows from page to page,
The lady's love has settled there
For all to read and all to know.
The lady's hair has bound her love
With golden tresses to the line,
Her heart is caught, it knows not where,
But may not move, and may not go.
Her skin, that of the lightest hue
Is soft to touch and soft to dare,
Sir John de Vere reveals anew
The secrets of her every where.
The more the pen skims on the page
The tighter are the bonds that bind,
The lady swoons in righteous rage
At whorls and eddies in her mind.
In whorls and eddies it doth flow
The golden hair, a flowing stream,
The cheek is caught and now the thigh,
Imprisoned for the world to know.
'You've made my love a whore', said she
'For all to come and take their sup,
My mind is open, disarrayed,
And so my thighs, my kirtle's up'.
Sir John heard not his lover's plea
But worked from day to night his joy
And took another golden strand
To work his quill another ploy.
And so his muse grew forth apace
His verse became a mighty work
And when his quill had run him dry
He went to seek his lover's face.
He sought and searched him far about
But never no sight of her did see,
Then mused apace before he turned
To seek the pages of his creed.
Among the parchment of his room
He found his love within the scrip',
And all the art and all the grace
He'd taken from his lover's lip.
And all the life and all the joy
Imprisoned on the churley sheet
To leave the shadow of his love
Bereft, and for the world to meet.
Sir John de Vere took on the thread
And pulled it from the final line,
That words that tumbled from his head
Should never not, nor now to bind.
And as the muse its thread was broke
A sigh came from his shadow love,
And colour caught in both the cheeks
And life came back in all the blood.
The arms he loosed then gripped him fast
And lips that whispered him to hear,
He will not write his love at last
Nor never again, will John de Vere.
25 April 1978
poem by David Lewis Paget

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To The Rose: Song
Go, happy Rose, and interwove
With other flowers, bind my Love.
Tell her, too, she must not be
Longer flowing, longer free,
That so oft has fetter'd me.
Say, if she's fretful, I have bands
Of pearl and gold, to bind her hands;
Tell her, if she struggle still,
I have myrtle rods at will,
For to tame, though not to kill.
Take thou my blessing thus, and go
And tell her this,--but do not so!--
Lest a handsome anger fly
Like a lightning from her eye,
And burn thee up, as well as I!
poem by Robert Herrick

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With The Wind
'Twas when the wind was blowing from the billow-breaking sea,
The grey and stormy sea, I heard her calling me,
And in the woods and on the ways where leaves were whirling down,
And weeds were rustling brown,
I caught a glimpse of face and feet, a glimmer of her gown.
And there between the forest and a strip of wandering sea,
Of dark and dreaming sea, I heard her laugh at me;
And, oh! her voice was bugle-wild as are the wind and rain,
And drew my heart again
With all the lures of all the past and joy more keen than pain.
Upon a fir-dark hilltop by the sunset-jewelled sea,
The old and wrinkled sea, she shook her hair at me,
And I caught a misty shimmer of her frosty gown and veil,
And her hand waved rosy pale,
And my heart was fain to follow her upon the old-time trail.
Within a ferny hollow by the mermaid-calling sea,
The far and foaming sea, she turned her face to me:
Again I saw her beauty; and again she held me fast,
As she'd held me in the past,
And let her wild heart beat to mine as beats the autumn blast.
Beside a rib of wreckage by the tempest-haunted sea,
The sad and severing sea, she bade good-bye to me:
Oh, paler than the foam her face, and wilder than the night,
When not a star gives light,
And rain and wind and winter sweep like harpies from the height.
Oh, she who joined her gipsy joy to sorrow of the sea,
The gaunt and ghostly sea, will come again to me:
When Autumn leads the wild-fowl home and lights, like wandering gleams,
The camp-fires of her dreams,
Again my heart shall hear her call upon the gale that streams.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein

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Eve- Song
I span and Eve span
A thread to bind the heart of man;
But the heart of man was a wandering thing
That came and went with little to bring:
Nothing he minded what we made,
As here he loitered, and there he stayed.
I span and Eve span
A thread to bind the heart of man;
But the more we span the more we found
It wasn't his heart but ours we bound.
For children gathered about our knees:
The thread was a chain that stole our ease.
And one of us learned in our children's eyes
That more than man was love and prize.
But deep in the heart of one of us lay
A root of loss and hidden dismay.
He said he was strong. He had no strength
But that which comes of breadth and length.
He said he was fond. But his fondness proved
The flame of an hour when he was moved.
He said he was true. His truth was but
A door that winds could open and shut.
And yet, and yet, as he came back,
Wandering in from the outward track,
We held our arms, and gave him our breast,
As a pillowing place for his head to rest.
I span and Eve span,
A thread to bind the heart of man!
poem by Dame Mary Gilmore

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St. Yve’s Poor
JEFFIK was there, and Matthieu, and brown Bran,
Warped in old wars and babbling of the sword,
And Jannedik, a white rose pinched and paled
With the world's frosts, and many more beside,
Lamed, rheumed and palsied, aged, impotent
Of all but hunger and blind lifted hands.
I set the doors wide at the given hour,
Took the great baskets piled with bread, the fish
Yet silvered of the sea, the curds of milk,
And called them, Brethren, brake, and blest, and gave.
For O, my Lord, the house dove knows her nest
Above my window builded from the rain;
In the brown mere the heron finds her rest,
But these shall seek in vain.
And O, my Lord, the thrush may fold her wing,
The curlew seek the long lift of the seas,
The wild swan sleep amid his journeying,–
There is no rest for these.
Thy dead are sheltered; housed and warmed they wait
Under the golden fern, the falling foam;
But these, Thy living, wander desolate
And have not any home.
I called them, Brethren, brake, and blest, and gave.
Old Jeffik had her withered hand to show,
Young Jannedik had dreamed of death, and Bran
Would tell me wonders wrought on fields of war,
When Michael and his warriors rode the storm,
And all the heavens were thrilled with clanging spears,–
Ah, God, my poor, my poor.–Till there came one
Wrapped in foul rags, who caught me by the robe,
And pleaded, 'Bread, my father.'
In his hand
I laid the last loaf of the daily dole,
Saw on the palm a red wound like a star,
And bade him, 'Let me bind it.'
'These my wounds,'
He answered softly, 'daily dost thou bind.'
And I, 'My son, I have not seen thy face.
But thy bruised feet have trodden on my heart.
I will get water for thee.'
'These my hurts,'
Again he answered, 'daily dost thou wash.'
And I once more, 'My son, I know thee not,
But the bleak wind blows bitter from the sea,
And even the gorse is perished. Rest thou here.'
And he again, 'My rest is in thy heart.
I take from thee as I have given to thee.
Dost thou not know Me, Breton ?'
I,–'My Lord!'–
A scent of lilies on the cold sea-wind,
A thin, white blaze of wings, a face of flame
Over the gateway, and the vision passed,
And there were only Matthieu and brown Bran,
And the young girl, the foam-white Jannedik,
Wondering to see their father rapt from them,
And Jeffik weeping o'er her withered hand.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

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Bind My Words
Bring your love to me and,
Let me bind my words with you;
For what i do feel for you is all about love.
XI, XXI and X;
This is what my love told me about you,
For the songs of sorrow are no more to be heard around you.
Build your own house and build your own protection,
For my feet has closely followed your steps!
And i don't want to lose you my love.
Bind my words around your boundary marks of your love,
And like the wild donkeys in the wilderness;
For the quietness of your love is in your belly,
And i am ready to direct you on to meet my home.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Loneliness song
I’m lonesome since I tope the hill and lore the moor and valley
Such heavy thought my heart does fill, since parting without my sally
I sick no more the fine or gay but the one to love me
Her golden hair in ringlet flair
Her slender waste will bind me
I’m lonesome since I tope the hill and lore the moor and valley
Such heavy thought my heart does fill, since parting without my sally
I sick no more the fine or gay but the one to love me
Her golden hair in ringlet flair
Her slender waste will bind me
poem by Mthokozisi Ntokozo Maphumulo

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The Rose Of Battle
ROSE of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
The tall thought-woven sails, that flap unfurled
Above the tide of hours, trouble the air,
And God's bell buoyed to be the water's care;
While hushed from fear, or loud with hope, a band
With blown, spray-dabbled hair gather at hand,
Turn if you may from battles never done,
I call, as they go by me one by one,
Danger no refuge holds, and war no peace,
For him who hears love sing and never cease,
Beside her clean-swept hearth, her quiet shade:
But gather all for whom no love hath made
A woven silence, or but came to cast
A song into the air, and singing passed
To smile on the pale dawn; and gather you
Who have sougft more than is in rain or dew,
Or in the sun and moon, or on the earth,
Or sighs amid the wandering, starry mirth,
Or comes in laughter from the sea's sad lips,
And wage God's battles in the long grey ships.
The sad, the lonely, the insatiable,
To these Old Night shall all her mystery tell;
God's bell has claimed them by the little cry
Of their sad hearts, that may not live nor die.
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled
Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring
The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.
Beauty grown sad with its eternity
Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea.
Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait,
For God has bid them share an equal fate;
And when at last, defeated in His wars,
They have gone down under the same white stars,
We shall no longer hear the little cry
Of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die.
poem by William Butler Yeats

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Where Does My Heart Beat Now
So much to believe in - We were lost in time
Everything I needed
I feel in your eyes
Always tought of keepin-
Your heart next to mine
But now that seems so far away
Don't know how love could leave
Without a trace
Where do silent hearts go?
Where does my heart beat now
Where is the sound
That only echoes through the night
Where does my heart beat now
I can't live without
Without feeling it inside
Where do all the lonely hearts go
Candle in the water - Drifting helplessly
Hiding from the thunder-
Come and rescue me
Driven by hunger -
Of the endless dream
I'm searching for the hand that I can hold
I'm reaching for the arms that let me know
Where do silent hearts go?
Where does my heart beat now
Where is the sound
That only echoes through the night
Where does my heart beat now
I can't live without
Without feeling it inside
Where do all the lonely hearts go
Where do all the lonely hearts go
Then one touch overcomes the silence
Love still survives
Two hearts needing one another
Give me wings to fly
Where does my heart beat now
Where is the sound
That only echoes through the night
Where does my heart beat now
I can't live without
Without feeling it inside
I've got someone to give my heart to
Feel it getting stronger and stronger
And stronger
And I feel inside
Hearts are made to last
Till the end of time
song performed by by Celine Dion from Unison

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lost Dancer
Spatial depths of being survive
The birth to death recurrences
Of feet dancing on earth of sand;
Vibrations of the dance survive
The sand; the sand, elect, survives
The dancer. He can find no source
Of magic adequate to bind
The sand upon his feet, his feet
Upon his dance, his dance upon
The diamond body of his being.
poem by Jean Toomer

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Walk That Line
(david wills/rick west)
Never believed in the straight and narrow
Always took the rocky road
Spread my wings like a wayward sparrow
Where the wind blew I would go
Thought no one could ever tame me
And no chains could tie me down
But your love put my feet back on the ground
I wanna walk that line
True lovers do
Your hand in mine
Now I belong to you
I wanna join our hearts
With the ties that bind
And make a brand new start
I wanna walk that line
All my wild and crazy ramblings
And the things that I lived for
Were so easily abandoned
I dont need them anymore
With a tender touch you tamed me
And Ill never be the same
cause your love led my heart back home again
I wanna walk that line
True lovers do
Your hand in mine
Now I belong to you
I wanna join our hearts
With the ties that bind
And make a brand new start
I wanna walk that line
I wanna walk that line
True lovers do
Your hand in mine
Now I belong to you
I wanna join our hearts
With the ties that bind
And make a brand new start
I wanna walk that line
song performed by by Martina Mcbride

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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World Party
Well its got nothing to do with anything that is real
You just believe in it and its true
You can sooth like an angel or sigh like a saint
You can dream it and see it through
You will live to see a sea of lights
Sparking on the face of a pearl
Climb your own peak
Find a new streak
Get yourself along to the world party (party!)
Now youve been building for yourself a cool place in the sand
Youre thinking that its mighty fine
Youve got dust in your eyeballs, you got mud in your mouth
But its your head, it aint mine
Ive got a madman of my own to contend with
Cursing in the cave of my skull
Turn the other cheek
Find a new streak
Get yourself along to the world party (party!)
Well I heard a rumour of a golden age
Somewhere back along the line
Maybe I dreamed it in a whisper or
Heard it in a spell
It was something to do with the sign of the times
And the only thing that I remember
Is a summer like a pretty girl
Who shimmers and shines
Moving in time
Shaking to the beat of the heart of the world
Party (party! party! party! party! party! party! party! party! party!)
song performed by by Waterboys

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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