The Nineteenth Century And After
THOUGH the great song return no more
There's keen delight in what we have:
The rattle of pebbles on the shore
Under the receding wave.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Related quotes
Like the Sea
wave upon wave
i arrive
at the shore of my
being
unconsumed
unfinished
wave upon wave
i lick the
shore
always arriving
at a home
that is never mine
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Shake Me And I Rattle
I was driving to work
when I heard this curious rattle.
For the life of me,
I couldn’t figure it out
where the rattle was coming from.
Every pothole that I hit the rattle was loud,
but on a smooth road, there was no rattle at all.
Finally, I parked the car and got out
and the rattle continued like before.
It didn’t take me long to realise
just where the rattle was coming from.
I was the one who was rattling
from all the pills I’m on.
So the next time we meet,
shake me gently
because I rattle a little bit.
poem by David Harris
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Pre-Existence
I laid me down upon the shore
And dreamed a little space;
I heard the great waves break and roar;
The sun was on my face.
My idle hands and fingers brown
Played with the pebbles grey;
The waves came up, the waves went down,
Most thundering and gay.
The pebbles, they were smooth and round
And warm upon my hands,
Like little people I had found
Sitting among the sands.
The grains of sands so shining-small
Soft through my fingers ran;
The sun shone down upon it all,
And so my dream began:
How all of this had been before;
How ages far away
I lay on some forgotten shore
As here I lie to-day.
The waves came shining up the sands,
As here to-day they shine;
And in my pre-pelasgian hands
The sand was warm and fine.
I have forgotten whence I came,
Or what my home might be,
Or by what strange and savage name
I called that thundering sea.
I only know the sun shone down
As still it shines to-day,
And in my fingers long and brown
The little pebbles lay.
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
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The Seas of England
The seas of England are our old delight:
Let the loud billow of the shingly shore
Sing freedom on her breezes evermore
To all earth’s ships that sailing heave in sight!
The gaunt sea-nettle be our fortitude,
Sturdily blowing where the clear wave sips;
O, be the glory of our men and ships
Rapturous, woe unheeding hardihood!
There is great courage in a land that hath
Liberty guarded by the unearthly seas;
And ev’n to find peace at the last in these
How many a sailor hath sailed down to death!
Their names are like a splendour in an old song;
Their record shines like bays along the years;
Their jubilation is the cry man hears
Sailing sun-fronted the vast deeps among.
The seas of England are our old delight:
Let the loud billow of the shingly shore
Sing freedom on her breezes evermore
To all earth’s ships that sailing heave in sight!
poem by Walter de la Mare
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The Labour Agitator
LET the liar call me liar,
And the robber call me thief.
They can only fan the fire
That is born of my belief.
While I’m speaking, while I’m writing,
To reform the wrongful laws,
Well I know that I am fighting
For the grand old Cause.
See the army of the rebels
Marching on for evermore.
We are countless as the pebbles
That are strewn along the shore.
Agitating, agitating,
Till the Truth has sealed the fate
Of the wrongs that I am hating
With the grand old Hate.
Though no battle banner rustles
In a smoke that blurs the blue,
As when “heroes” poured from Brussels
To the field of Waterloo,
Though we do not hear the rattle
Of the rifles in the wars,
There is glory in the battle
For the grand old Cause.
See the army of the rebels
Marching on for evermore.
We are countless as the pebbles
That are strewn along the shore.
Agitating, agitating,
Till the Truth has sealed the fate
Of the wrongs that I am hating
With the grand old Hate.
No! I look not to the reaping
In the dynasty of men,
For I know that I’ll be sleeping
In a slandered grave e’er then.
Till his right to man is given
We’ll rebel, and we’ll rebel
As we would rebel in heaven
If it proved a hell.
See the army of the rebels
Marching on for evermore.
We are countless as the pebbles
That are strewn along the shore.
Agitating, agitating,
Till the Truth has sealed the fate
Of the wrongs that I am hating
With the grand old Hate.
No! There’s neither creed nor nation
Where the Labour flag’s unfurled,
For the Labour agitation
Breaks the barriers of the world.
Let the rulers fly in terror
With their scornful lips uncurled,
One by one the gods of error
From their thrones are hurled.
See the army of the rebels
Marching on for evermore.
We are countless as the pebbles
That are strewn along the shore.
Agitating, agitating,
Till the Truth has sealed the fate
Of the wrongs that I am hating
With the grand old Hate.
poem by Henry Lawson
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One Hundred Ripples
One hundred ripples I mark today
One hundred steps along my way
One hundred steps lead to the pond
One hundred trees there do surround
One hundred birds nesting among the trees
One hundred bees filling the air with these
One hundred bees buzzing about in the air
One hundred flowers are pollinating there
One hundred flowers provide the aromas sweet
For one hundred bouquets given to lovers as treat
One hundred lovers walk the winding pathway
One hundred times to find romance there each day
One hundred times they will reach to explore
One hundred pebbles found along the pond shore
One hundred pebbles carry wishes through the air
One hundred ripples on surface creating there
One hundred ripples then spreading out will begin
One hundred waves soon lapping at the shore again
One hundred waves providing the means for
One hundred more pebbles to reach the shore
One hundred pebbles scatter along the pathway
One hundred steps retraced at the end of the day
One hundred small steps... this latest poem was conceived to denote
One hundred little ripples... spreading from 100 poems I wrote
poem by Mary Havran
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Ocean Song
Sing a little song,
Just an itty bitty ditty,
About the rolling boom
Of the ocean’s lull and gloom.
Sing a little song,
Hum a simple tune,
That reminds you of the sea
And all that she may be.
Sing a little song,
Tap an unknown beat,
To sway the stars above
And steal the ocean from her love.
Sing a little song,
A sweeter melody.
Let’s coax the waves to shore -
Inspiring new lore.
Sing a little song,
Create some fancy notes,
That tempt the moon to land,
And we’ll dance on golden sand.
Sing a little song,
Drum an unheard rhythm,
About the sea’s unending keen
And all that she has seen.
Sing a little song,
A peaceful lullaby,
That speaks of pleasant ages
And soothes the ocean’s rages.
poem by Robin Shuler
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When I am dead....
When I am dead,
six feet below
and rain softens the ground
I will scrape the earth away
with cold, stiff hands
and wave at passers by.
I will take pleasure in the torment,
laugh zanily and call to them.
My bones will rattle with delight
as they run and scream.
What mischief, what fun
I will have when I die.
I'll not let the living
forget me, no!
I'll prop myself up
to be a nuisance
and cackle and creek
to reap my revenge on life.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Fish In A Bowl
Everywhere I go
A thousand faces stare at me
Eating from the palm
A date from hand to mouth
Break a leg!
The shoes are on the bottom
On your way
But the wardrobe always stays wide open
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up
Fish in a bowl
Everywhere I go
All bob and weave
Or sew it seams
Aiming low in life
They keep their noses clean
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up
Fish in a bowl
An ordered life from start to finish
And my timing is out
All washed up
Stood on the shore
The wave is over
But Im all washed up...fish!
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snow
One day a bird sang
a song in some far away country.
It could be heard
from this shore.
In that country, it was snowing.
The song, however, came back
crossing the ocean to this shore.
It reached the shore
with the snow though.
(8.4.1997)
poem by Sangnam Nam
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Sing Me A Song
Sing me a song,
A song you and I know,
A song that will put me to sleep,
This song that I always listen to makes me cry,
Missing you with every inch on my heart,
Knowing that you will not return,
Sing me a song,
A song that will help me forget about you,
A song that will heal my heart,
A song of forgiveness,
Just sing a song,
A song that can not be forgotten,
A song so memorable,
Only a memory,
Sing me song,
A song that we will love,
A song we can not live with out,
Just sing me a song,
A song that only you and I know.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Sea-Shore
Every wave from the sea,
Running towards the shore,
As if to stay with it forever.
Returns all rejected,
Only more salty and miserable,
Happy to be so, though.
The sea tries yet again,
In the form of another wave,
A never ending hope of attraction,
And a continuous failure.
The shore not at fault either,
Luring the sea towards itself,
Without knowing the depth,
Or the sparkle of the water.
Couldn’t move an inch,
To walk with the sea forever,
A decision not made by choice.
Does not hold the sea to itself,
Neither does it let go,
Probably that’s what He wanted.
The sea running towards the shore,
Knowing it would be the end,
And sighs in the form of a breeze,
At the thought of the final touch,
Every dropp awaiting the end.
Trying and denying carries on,
Till the sea dries out,
The shore stays where it was,
Beside the grave of its only lover,
As lonely as it could be.
poem by Dhruv Dikshit
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A Beautiful Song
A Beautiful Song. (Ink Spots)
“I don’t want to set the world on fire” what a lovely song.
But I’m disturbed by sparrows, sit in my orange tree and
make a racket, so much for bird song. Out on the terrace
I stretch out my arms pretend to be an eagle, they fly off.
But they soon return realising I’m not much of an eagle.
I throw pebbles at them, terrified miniature mountains,
that only get to fly when someone, say, me throws them.
I still hear the sparrows sit in my neighbour’s orange tree,
argue about territories and no- fly- zones. A flurry of angry
wings, what is this a civil war? High above on the blue sky,
a bald eagle circles. “I don’t want to set the world on fire.”
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Men, the waves
The sea waves meet the shore.
The waves ebb; the shore stays ashore.
He, the wave, meets her, the shore.
The waves carry the carcass of the tryst.
The shore buries the debris of the tryst.
Man sticks to the past, woman to the future.
13.01.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Curling Waters
The tide rolls in on curling waters,
then stretches its fingers to touch the shore.
It hisses as each wave breaks
and its white waters pound against
the sands and rolling stones.
We can sit for hours watching
its endless race
to see which finger
can go farthest up the shore.
Its waters then retreat
as a new wave takes its place.
25 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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In the Matter of One Compass
When, foot to wheel and back to wind,
The helmsman dare not look behind,
But hears beyond his compass-light,
The blind bow thunder through the night,
And, like a harpstring ere it snaps,
The rigging sing beneath the caps;
Above the shriek of storm in sail
Or rattle of the blocks blown free,
Set for the peace beyond the gale,
This song the Needle sings the Sea;
Oh, drunken Wave! Oh, driving Cloud!
Rage of the Deep and sterile Rain,
By love upheld, by God allowed,
We go, but we return again!
When leagued about the 'wildered boat
The rainbow Jellies fill and float,
And, lilting where the laver lingers,
The Starfish trips on all her fingers;
Where, 'neath his myriad spines ashock,
The Sea-egg ripples down the rock,
An orange wonder dimly guessed
From darkness where the Cuttles rest,
Moored o'er the darker deeps that hide
The blind white Sea-snake and his bride,
Who, drowsing, nose the long-lost Ships
Let down through darkness to their lips --
Safe-swung above the glassy death,
Hear what the constant Needle saith:
Oh, lisping Reef! Oh, listless Cloud,
In slumber on a pulseless main!
By Love upheld, by God allowed,
We go, but we return again!
E'en so through Tropic and through Trade,
Awed by the shadow of new skies,
As we shall watch old planets fade
And mark the stranger stars arise,
So, surely, back through Sun and Cloud,
So, surely, from the outward main
By Love recalled, by God allowed,
Shall we return -- return again!
Yea, we return -- return again!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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A Song for June's Smile
A song for June's smile,
When love is still so young;
Though summer has been awhile,
To become colored and strong.
Each heart is then retrieved,
To tones we imagined away;
When love is back received,
On a beautiful summer day.
A song for each my flame,
Blazing in your sweetness;
Though hearts stay not the same,
They return new and fresh.
All love is between two,
Consonant to win delight;
It is then all up to you,
Whether it burns on bright.
A song for June's smile,
With passions retuning along;
For each love is so fertile,
Can be the best summer song.
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Night Song
The moon stretched a long finger
across the calm waters
as they rolled to the shore.
The stars danced on each wave
filling the night with romance.
Couples walked hand in hand
along the sandy shore.
Love twinkled in their eyes
as they left their footprints in the sand.
The nocturnal calls created a rhythm in the air
once the sun had bid its goodbye.
The footprints stopped occasionally
as the lovers arms curled around one another
to capture a nights kiss of bliss
as they stood on the sandy shore,
then moved along enjoying
the romantic night song.
20-21 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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Now Im Nothing
I smashed myself to pieces
I am gonna f**k myself up
Im sifting through the ashes
Oh what I have become
I gave myself away now Im nothing
I let it slip away now Im nothing
All that I can do is break myself in two
I f**ked it all away now Im nothing
Wave wave wave wave goodbye
Wave wave wave wave goodbye
Written and performed by: trent reznor
song performed by by Nine Inch Nails
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speech Of Gold!
If silence is to silence
the beautiful song of a day,
I prefer not that silence
I prefer a speech of gold
than a smoky silence
of a cloud of conflict;
or a wave cause only
troubles to a sea shore,
I prefer a word to transform
into a song for a day
and that day will break
the shells of silence
in one dawn of life.....
September 7,2009
poem by Rema Prasanaa
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