Lines. Oh! To Some Distant Scene
Oh! to some distant scene, a willing exile
From the wild roar of this busy world,
Were it my fate with Delia to retire,
With her to wander through the sylvan shade,
Each morn, or o'er the moss-embrowned turf,
Where, blest as the prime parents of mankind
In their own Eden, we should envy none,
But, greatly pitying whom the world calls happy
Gently spin out the silken thread of life!
poem by William Cowper
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Related quotes
R. S. S.
All-worshipped Gold! thou mighty mystery
Say by what name shall I address thee rather,
Our blessing, or our bane? Without thy aid,
The generous pangs of pity but distress
The human heart, that fain would feel the bliss
Of blessing others; and, enslaved by thee,
Far from relieving woes which others feel,
Misers oppress themselves. Our blessings then
With virtue when possessed; without, our bane.
If in my bosom unperceived there lurk
The deep-sown seeds of avarice or ambition,
Blame me, ye great ones, (for I scorn your censure),
But let the generous and the good commend me;
That to my Delia I direct them all,
The worthiest object of a virtuous love.
Oh! to some distant scene, a willing exile
From the wild uproar of this busy world,
Were it my fate with Delia to retire;
With her to wander through the sylvan shade,
Each morn, or o'er the moss-embrowned turf,
Where, blessed as the prime parents of mankind
In their own Eden, we should envy none;
But, greatly pitying whom the world calls happy,
Gently spin out the silken thread of life;
While from her lips attentive I receive
The tenderest dictates of the purest flame,
And from her eyes (where soft complacence sits
Illumined with the radiant beams of sense),
Tranquility beyond a monarch's reach.
Forgive me, Heaven, this only avarice
My soul indulges; I confess the crime,
(If to esteem, to covet such perfection
Be criminal,) oh, grant me Delia! grant me wealth;
Wealth to alleviate, not increase my wants;
And grant me virtue, without which nor wealth
Nor Delia can avail to make me blessed.
poem by William Cowper
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The Rose Family' Song 1
O flower at my window
Why blossom you so fair,
With your green and purple cup
Upturned to sun and air?
'I bloom, blithesome Bessie,
To cheer your childish heart;
The world is full of labor,
And this shall be my part.'
Whirl, busy wheel, faster,
Spin, little thread, spin;
The sun shines fair without,
And we are gay within.
O robin in the tree-top,
With sunshine on your breast,
Why brood you so patiently
Above your hidden nest?
'I brood, blithesome Bessie,
And sing my humble song,
That the world may have more music
From my little ones erelong.'
Whirl, busy wheel, faster,
Spin, little thread, spin;
The sun shines fair without,
And we are gay within.
O balmy wind of summer,
O silver-singing brook,
Why rustle through the branches?
Why shimmer in your nook?
'I flutter, blithesome Bessie,
Like a blessing far and wide;
I scatter bloom and verdue
Where'er my footsteps glide.'
Whirl, busy wheel, faster,
Spin, little thread, spin;
The sun shines fair without,
And we are gay within.
O brook and breeze and blossom,
And robin on the tree,
You make a joy of duty,
A pride of industry;
Teach me to work as blithely,
With a willing hand and heart:
The world is full of labor,
And I must do my part.
Whirl, busy wheel, faster,
Spin, little thread, spin;
The sun shines fair without,
And we are gay within.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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Hello There? Anybody Home?
did i tell you once that i also like to become an echo?
that i like to ask the simple question to the mountain
like: Hello? Is there anybody there?
as though, there is this scene that the world has ended
and i am the only one left,
and there is nothing but smoke and emptiness,
boulders of rocks with not a tree to accentuate the final scene of survival,
or a moss to tell me that life still exist
on a creek without a single dew on its priceless pebble,
know what? i am happy today to know that you are still there
so far away like an undiscovered distant planet that the light years
have not known yet to measure
i know that somehow we share the same madness.
Poetry.
know what? Be happy too.
I have someone else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Lay Of Old Time
One morning of the first sad Fall,
Poor Adam and his bride
Sat in the shade of Eden's wall--
But on the outer side.
She, blushing in her fig-leaf suit
For the chaste garb of old;
He, sighing o'er his bitter fruit
For Eden's drupes of gold.
Behind them, smiling in the morn,
Their forfeit garden lay,
Before them, wild with rock and thorn,
The desert stretched away.
They heard the air above them fanned,
A light step on the sward,
And lo! they saw before them stand
The angel of the Lord!
'Arise,' he said, 'why look behind,
When hope is all before,
And patient hand and willing mind,
Your loss may yet restore?
'I leave with you a spell whose power
Can make the desert glad,
And call around you fruit and flower
As fair as Eden had.
'I clothe your hands with power to lift
The curse from off your soil;
Your very doom shall seem a gift,
Your loss a gain through Toil.
'Go, cheerful as yon humming-bees,
To labor as to play.'
White glimmering over Eden's trees
The angel passed away.
The pilgrims of the world went forth
Obedient to the word,
And found where'er they tilled the earth
A garden of the Lord!
The thorn-tree cast its evil fruit
And blushed with plum and pear,
And seeded grass and trodden root
Grew sweet beneath their care.
We share our primal parents' fate,
And, in our turn and day,
Look back on Eden's sworded gate
As sad and lost as they.
But still for us his native skies
The pitying Angel leaves,
And leads through Toil to Paradise
New Adams and new Eves!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Impromptu to Miss Utrecia Smith
Whilst round in wild rotations hurl'd,
These glittering forms I view,
Methinks the busy restless world
Is pictured in a few.
So may the busy world advance,
Since thus the Fates decree
It still may have its busy dance,
Whilst I retire with thee.
poem by William Shenstone
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Spin In The Black Circle
See this needle...a see my hand...
Drop, drop, dropping it down...oh, so gently...
Well here it comes...i touch the plane...
Turn me up...wont turn you away...
Spin, spin...spin the black circle
Spin, spin...spin the black, spin the black...
Spin, spin...spin the black circle
Spin, spin...whoa...
Pull it out...a paper sleeve...
Oh, my joy...only you deserve conceit...
Im so big...a-my whole world...
Id rather you...rather you...than her...
Spin, spin...spin the black circle
Spin, spin...spin the black, spin the black...
Spin, spin...spin the black circle
Spin, spin...whoa...oh...
Youre so warm...oh, the ritual...when I lay down your crooked arm...
Spin, spin...spin the black circle
Spin, spin...spin the black, spin the black...
Spin, spin...spin the black circle
Spin, spin...
Spin the black (5x)circle
Spin the black circle... (4x)
Spin, spin... (6x)
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spin, Spin (New York Remake Version)
So fine, so fine the web you spin,
I come too close and I'm caught again!
In the web of wild design,
I do not know what fate is mine!
All the day sit and spin,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
And my daddy said when I was young,
"Beware the web of love, my son,
To be in love is to be insane,
Make an old man groan, a young man pain!"
All the day, sit and spin,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
Then I did go and the time did fly,
Many a true love passed me by.
And then you came like a blinding storm,
I landed in your web so warm,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
So fine, so fine the web you spin,
I come too close and I'm caught again!
In the web of wild desire,
And I cannot control the fire!
All the day sit and spin,
You spin your web and you draw me in.
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spin, Spin
So fine, so fine the web you spin,
I come too close and Im caught again!
In the web of wild design,
I do not know what fate is mine!
All the day sit and spin,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
And my daddy said when I was young,
Beware the web of love, my son,
To be in love is to be insane,
Make an old man groan, a young man pain!
All the day, sit and spin,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
Then I did go and the time did fly,
Many a true love passed me by.
And then you came like a blinding storm,
I landed in your web so warm,
Spin your web and you draw me in.
Spin, spin, spin, spin!
So fine, so fine the web you spin,
I come too close and Im caught again!
In the web of wild desire,
And I cannot control the fire!
All the day sit and spin,
You spin your web and you draw me in.
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Eden's Weeping
Eden! Eden! Why do you weep?
O Eden! You have lost your sheep.
Do not grieve,
you must now believe,
soon your exile will end.
O Eden! You I'll always defend.
Deign not Eden's glory, and with Eden do not contend.
O Eden! You I'll always defend.
poem by Soren Valentine
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Repose In God
Blest! who, far from all mankind
This world's shadows left behind,
Hears from heaven a gentle strain
Whispering love, and loves again.
Blest! who, free from self–esteem,
Dives into the great Supreme.
All desire beside discards,
Joys inferior none regards.
Blest! who in thy bosom seeks
Rest that nothing earthly breaks,
Dead to self and worldly things,
Lost in thee, thou King of kings!
Ye that know my secret fire,
Softly speak and soon retire;
Favour my divine repose,
Spare the sleep a God bestows.
poem by William Cowper
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The Progress of Love
Beneath the myrtle’s secret shade,
When Delia blest my eyes;
At first I view’d the lovely maid
In silent soft surprise.
With trembling voice, and anxious mind,
I softly whisper’d love;
She blush’d a smile so sweetly kind,
Did all my fears remove.
Her lovely yielding form I prest,
Sweet maddening kisses stole;
And soon her swimming eyes confest
The wishes of her soul:
In wild tumultuous bliss I cry,
“O Delia, now be kind!”
She press’d me close, and with a sigh,
To melting joys resign’d.
poem by Robert Dodsley
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Spin, Spin, Spin
Spin, spin, spin
Spin around, spin around
The harlequin dances in a costume of green
Spin around
But under his makeup his age can't be seen
Spin around
But where are you spinnin'
When will you know
That life is for livin'
That it isn't a show?
Spin, spin, spin
Spin around, spin around
You look out on the city from your penthouse so high
Spin around
But your pedestal's your prison and so is your high
Spin around
But where are you spinnin'
When will you know
That life is for livin'
That it isn't a show?
Spin, spin, spin
Spin around, spin around
Your pills are you conscience
They make ev'rything seem all right
Spin around
Take a white one go to sleep
Take a red one to stay up all night
To spin around
But where are you spinnin'
When will you know
That life is for livin'
That it isn't a show?
Spin, spin, spin
Spin around, spin around
Spin, spin, spin
Spin away, spin away
Spin, spin, spin
Spin around, spin around
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song XXX. The Lovely Brown Maid
When May--scented zephyrs breathe gladness around,
Enliv'ning the meadow and grove,
And in each mossy cottage Contentment is found,
Crown'd with health, peace, retirement, and love;
Then far from the village the swains they retire,
At noon to the lonely sweet shade;
Grant me Health, rosy Health, all I ask and desire,
With a smile from my lovely brown maid.
When my flocks bleat around me upon the wide plain,
Contented I lie at my ease;
And at eve I retire, free from sorrow and pain,
To enjoy the soft fragrant breeze:
When music and gladness are heard thro' the grove,
By moonlight I steal from the shade,
And o'er hills and deep valleys unheeded I rove,
For a smile from my lovely brown maid.
Each morn I rise happy, each night I lie down
With a heart free from envy and care;
In my plain humble cottage, far from the gay town
With my neighbours each comfort I share:
I envy no monarch, I boast not of wealth,
No troubles my cot e'er invade:
All the blessings I ask is the blessing of health,
And a smile from my lovely brown maid.
poem by Robert Anderson
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The Solitude of Shade
Where the light is soft, I live in shade
in the corners of my mind where thought is made.
Where the temperature is cool, and my soul repose
my peace in the world one may suppose.
Under the shade my defects hide
and my imagination is my friend at my side.
Where love is truth
and intuition the sooth
of all that's to come
of all to be done.
The shade is my ambiance which determines my mood
where pensive thoughts lay and my loves gravely brood.
Lost in a world where people are gray
I hide from the world and it's shiny bright day.
In the shade is the place to be
where one can hide and freely see
the world around
where false is found
and the poor fool
is always crowned.
But to retire from the shade
and back into the light.
My thoughts whiter and fade
as I am back in sight…
The solitude of shade
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Fall Down Gently
She was only a girl, it was nobodys world
And she told me shed lived for a while
I was only 16 but I knew how to dream
I still dream though its way out of style
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all, down at all
We were took by surprise
As we looked at the size
Of the man that we all called the lord
Just between you and me
Well there werent much to see
What with helmet and blood-stained sword
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all, down at all
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all, down at all
So it was somebodys world
And I was only the girl
And I told you Id be here for a while
cause when youre only 16
And you know how to dream
You keep dreaming til the dreaming gets wild
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all
Id rather fall down gently
Than never fall down at all
Id rather fall down gently
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Clean Slate
Envy of, a sense of true identity, a sign of confidence to see.
Because when she said "I love that music, too,"
she meant, "Only as long as you want me too."
So sad, we don't see, until we become what they want us to be.
It's too late.
I don't know why,
but what they want me to do,
I do it.
Powered by wealth,
changing myself,
and if they only knew that I knew it.
And it seems that the real life will have to wait,
because the world's so busy,
so busy, cleaning a clean slate.
Oh.
Ahh, hoping to find what's mine,
so I can lead a full life,
use a knife,
and dig in like a cannibal.
Out for,
for myself, but all the things I want are serving someone else.
I don't know why,
but what they want me to do,
I do it.
Powered by wealth,
changing myself,
and if they only knew that I knew it.
And it seems that the real life will have to wait.
As the world keeps cleaning, it's cleaning.
The spin cycle runs round.
A clear decision can be found.
Can't think when my mind,
my mind runs 'round.
song performed by by Quicksand
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lines Written beneath an Elm in the Churchyard of Harrow
Spot of my youth! whose hoary branches sigh,
Swept by the breeze that fans thy cloudless sky;
Where now alone I muse, who oft have trod,
With those I loved, thy soft and verdant sod;
With those who, scatter'd far, perchance deplore,
Like me, the happy scenes they knew before:
Oh! as I trace again thy winding hill,
Mine eyes admire, my heart adores thee still,
Thou drooping Elm! beneath whose boughs I lay,
And frequent mused the twilight hours away;
Where, as they once were wont, my limbs recline,
But, ah! without the thoughts which then were mine:
How do thy branches, moaning to the blast,
Invite the bosom to recall the past,
And seem to whisper, as they gently swell,
"Take, while thou canst, a lingering, last farewell!"
When Fate shall chill, at length, this fever'd breast,
And calm its cares and passions into rest,
Oft have I thought, 'twould soothe my dying hour,--
If aught may soothe when life resigns her power,--
To know some humble grave, some narrow cell,
Would hide my bosom where it loved to dwell;
With this fond dream, methinks 'twere sweet to die--
And here it linger'd, here my heart might lie;
Here might I sleep where all my hopes arose,
Scene of my youth, and couch of my repose;
For ever stretch'd beneath this mantling shade,
Press'd by the turf where once my childhood play'd;
Wrapt by the soil that veils the spot I loved,
Mix'd with the earth o'er which my footsteps moved;
Blest by the tongues that charm'd my youthful ear,
Mourn'd by the few my soul acknowledged here;
Deplored by those in early days allied,
And unremember'd by the world beside.
poem by Byron (1807)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Mr Spider
We are comrades in the strugle you and I
Trapped dangling helplessly in the air
Twisting protectively in the evening breeze
Destined to live life in a captive fear
One silken thread our only hope
Fate cruelly in control
Be still, you’re safe in my hands
Delicately placed you scurry away
A crashing fall escapes you
Oh my brother, turn and think of me
Twisting ever faster my thread unwinds
Fate cruelly in control
poem by Adrian Murphy
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Spin You Around
Ooooo
Come on over the mountain
And I'll meet you at the otherside
Come on over the mountain
And I'll meet you at the otherside, yeah
If I saw you dancing
I would spin you around, spin you around
If I saw you dancing
I would spin you around, spin you around
Turn your world upside down
Ooooo
I'd spin you around, spin you around
Turn your world upside down
Spin you around, spin you around
Turn your world upside down
If you'll be my woman
I will take you to another side
If you'll be my lady
I will take you for another ride
If I saw you dancing
I would spin you around, spin you around
If I saw you dancing
I would spin you around, spin you around
Spin you around, spin you around
Turn your world upside down
Spin you around, spin you around
Turn your world upside down
I can turn you around
I'd spin you around, spin you around
Turn your world upside down
Spin you around, spin you around
Turn your world upside down
Oooooo
Maybe, baby
Upside down
I'm gonna spin you around
Maybe, lady
Upside down
I'm gonna spin you
song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lines Written Beneath An Elm In The Churchyard Of Harrow On The Hill, Sept. 2, 1807
Spot of my youth! whose hoary branches sigh,
Swept by the breeze that fans thy cloudless sky;
Where now alone I muse, who oft have trod,
With those I loved, thy soft and verdant sod;
With those who, scattered far, perchance deplore,
Like me, the happy scenes they knew before:
Oh! as I trace again thy winding hill,
Mine eyes admire, my heart adores thee still,
Thou drooping Elm! beneath whose boughs I lay,
And frequent mused the twilight hours away;
Where, as they once were wont, my limbs recline,
But ah! without the thoughts which then were mine.
How do thy branches, moaning to the blast,
Invite the bosom to recall the past,
And seem to whisper, as the gently swell,
'Take, while thou canst, a lingering, last farewell!'
When fate shall chill, at length, this fevered breast,
And calm its cares and passions into rest,
Oft have I thought, 'twould soothe my dying hour,—
If aught may soothe when life resigns her power,—
To know some humbler grave, some narrow cell,
Would hide my bosom where it loved to dwell.
With this fond dream, methinks, 'twere sweet to die—
And here it lingered, here my heart might lie;
Here might I sleep, where all my hopes arose,
Scene of my youth, and couch of my repose;
For ever stretched beneath this mantling shade,
Pressed by the turf where once my childhood played;
Wrapped by the soil that veils the spot I loved,
Mixed with the earth o'er which my footsteps moved;
Blest by the tongues that charmed my youthful ear,
Mourned by the few my soul acknowledged here;
Deplored by those in early days allied,
And unremembered by the world beside.