Related quotes: Ah! wherefore should my weeping...

To Delia: On Her Endeavouring To Conceal Her Grief At Parting

Ah! wherefore should my weeping maid suppress
Those gentle signs of undissembled woe?
When from soft love proceeds the deep distress,
Ah, why forbid the willing tears to flow?

Since for my sake each dear translucent drop
Breaks forth, best witness of thy truth sincere,
My lips should drink the precious mixture up,
And, ere it falls, receive the trembling tear.

Trust me, these symptoms of thy faithful heart,
In absence shall my dearest hope sustain;
Delia! since such thy sorrow that we part,
Such when we meet thy joy shall be again.

Hard is that heart, and unsubdued by love,
That feels no pain, nor ever heaves a sigh;
Such hearts the fiercest passions only prove,
Or freeze in cold insensibility.

Oh! then indulge thy grief, nor fear to tell
The gentle source from whence thy sorrows flow,
Nor think it weakness when we love to feel,
Nor think it weakness what we feel to show.

poem by William Cowper
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Written After Leaving Her At New Burns

How quick the change from joy to woe!
How chequered is our lot below!
Seldom we view the prospect fair,
Dark clouds of sorrow, pain, and care,
(Some pleasing intervals between),
Scowl over more than half the scene.
Last week with Delia, gentle maid,
Far hence in happier fields I strayed,
While on her dear enchanting tongue
Soft sounds of grateful welcome hung,
For absence had withheld it long.
'Welcome, my long-lost love, she said,
E'er since our adverse fates decreed
That we must part, and I must mourn
Till once more blessed by thy return,
Love, on whose influence I relied
For all the transports I enjoyed,
Has played the cruel tyrant's part
And turned tormentor to my heart,
But let me hold thee to my breast,
Dear partner of my joy and rest,
And not a pain, and not a fear,
Or anxious doubt, shall enter there.'
Happy, thought I, the favoured youth,
Blessed with such undissembled truth!--
Five suns successive rose and set,
And saw no monarch in his state,
Wrapped in the blaze of majesty,
So free from every care as I.--
Next day the scene was overcast;
Such day till then I never passed,--
For on that day, relentless fate!
Delia and I must separate.
Yet ere we looked our last farewell,
From her dear lips this comfort fell:--
'Fear not that time, where'er we rove,
Or absence, shall abate my love.'
And can I doubt, my charming maid,
As unsincere what you have said?
Banished from thee to what I hate,
Dull neighbours and insipid chat,
No joy to cheer me, none in view,
But the dear hope of meeting you;
And that through passion's optic seen,
With ages interposed between;--
Blessed with the kind support you give,
'Tis by your promised truth I live;
How deep my woes, how fierce my flame,
You best may tell, who feel the same.

poem by William Cowper
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My Caring Wife

You are who you are and as I have often said
you're blessed with the ability to think ahead.
And God has also given you a caring heart
a place in which such deep emotions take their part.

So many forms of emotion flow out of you
as you show such joy and laughter and sorrow too.
Your sensitivity can sometimes make you cry
and it is because you feel deeply that you sigh.

Signs of pain and sadness you so often reveal
when grieving for others and their heartache you feel.
As you reach out to them with your loving embrace
tears of sorrow and empathy flow down your face.

Like Poo Bear you hum tunes as on your way you go
determined to others your friendliness to show.
When chuckling and laughing your lovely beaming face
glows with love as your grand children you embrace.

My love, you are so full of laughter and such joy
when in the company of those whom you enjoy.
Unconditional affection to all you share
and I praise God for your deep love and tender care.

poem by Royston
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Love Is Like A Butterfly

Love is like a butterfly
As soft and gentle as a sigh
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
I feel it when youre with me
It happens when you kiss me
That rare and gentle feeling that I feel inside
Your touch is soft and gentle
Your kiss is warm and tender
Whenever I am with you I think of butterflies
Love is like a butterfly
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
Your laughter brings me sunshine
Everyday is spring time
And I am only happy when you are by my side
How precious is this love we share
How very precious, sweet and rare
Together we belong like daffodils and butterflies
Love is like a butterfly
As soft and gentle as a sigh
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Morning Beauty :)

As I sit here all alone admiring the view of an early sunrise
I tilt my head back and close my eyes.
A soft gentle breeze crosses my face
I look around and enjoy the quietness of God's peace and the soft gentle pace
The trees are in full bloom, the leaves ready to fall
God's beauty of earth, I admire it all.
As the sun comes up and begins a new day
I sit here quietly and begin to pray.
Dear God, I begin to say, please watch over my life and keep me safe
Give me hope and show me faith.
Guide my path and let me know you are near.
Allow me to be strong and filled with love, for love conquers all fear.
A gentle breeze crosses my path, and gives me a slight chill
God answers and says: I am with you still.
I've never left you alone, or threw you aside, I am in your heart, I will be your guide.
I will show you the way to master life's difficulties, and trust your heart,
For I am with you now and forever, I shall never part.
A gentle breeze I feel again, I know my prayers are answered, God has heard my plea.
He has pointed this out for me to see.
Life has many surprises each and every day. We cannot live on regrets and sorrow.
Once again I feel a gentle breeze which means God is saying:
My child there is a tomorrow:
The sun will shine once again, the birds will continue to sing.
Memories will last forever, and enjoy life a new today, and all that it may bring.

poem by Jordan Moore
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To Sensibility

In SENSIBILITY'S lov'd praise
I tune my trembling reed,
And seek to deck her shrine with bays,
On which my heart must bleed!

No cold exemption from her pain
I ever wish to know;
Cheer'd with her transport, I sustain
Without complaint her woe.

Above whate'er content can give,
Above the charm of ease,
The restless hopes and fears, that live
With her, have power to please.

Where, but for her, were Friendship's power
To heal the wounded heart,
To shorten sorrow's ling'ring hour,
And bid its gloom depart?

'Tis she that lights the melting eye
With looks to anguish dear;
She knows the price of every sigh,
The value of a tear.

She prompts the tender marks of love
Which words can scarce express;
The heart alone their force can prove,
And feel how much they bless.

Of every finer bliss the source!
'Tis she on love bestows
The softer grace, the boundless force,
Confiding passion knows;

When to another, the fond breast
Each thought for ever gives;
When on another leans for rest,
And in another lives!

Quick, as the trembling metal flies
When heat or cold impels,
Her anxious heart to joy can rise,
Or sink where anguish dwells!

Yet though her soul must griefs sustain
Which she alone can know,
And feel that keener sense of pain
Which sharpens every woe;

Though she, the mourners' grief to calm,
Still shares each pang they feel,
And, like the tree distilling balm,
Bleeds others' wounds to heal;

Though she, whose bosom, fondly true,
Has never wish'd to range,
One alter'd look will trembling view,
And scarce can bear the change;

Though she, if death the bands should tear
She vainly thought secure,
Through life must languish in despair,
That never hopes a cure;

Though wounded by some vulgar mind,
Unconscious of the deed,
Who never seeks those wounds to bind,
But wonders why they bleed;--

She oft will heave a secret sigh,
Will shed a lonely tear,
O'er feelings nature wrought so high,
And gave on terms so dear.

Yet who would hard INDIFFERENCE choose,
Whose breast no tears can steep?
Who, for her apathy, would lose
The sacred power to weep?

Though in a thousand objects pain
And pleasure tremble nigh,
Those objects strive to reach in vain
The circle of her eye.

Cold as the fabled god appears
To the poor suppliant's grief,
Who bathes the marble form in tears,
And vainly hopes relief.

Ah, GREVILLE ! why the gifts refuse
To souls like thine allied?
No more thy nature seem to lose,
No more thy softness hide.

No more invoke the playful sprite
To chill, with magic spell,
The tender feelings of delight,
And anguish sung so well;

That envied case thy heart would prove
Were sure too dearly bought
With friendship, sympathy, and love,
And every finer thought.

poem by Helen Maria Williams
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A Tear And A Smile

I would not exchange the sorrows of my heart
For the joys of the multitude.
And I would not have the tears that sadness makes
To flow from my every part turn into laughter.

I would that my life remain a tear and a smile.

A tear to purify my heart and give me understanding
Of life's secrets and hidden things.
A smile to draw me nigh to the sons of my kind and
To be a symbol of my glorification of the gods.

A tear to unite me with those of broken heart;
A smile to be a sign of my joy in existence.

I would rather that I died in yearning and longing than that I live Weary and despairing.

I want the hunger for love and beauty to be in the
Depths of my spirit,for I have seen those who are
Satisfied the most wretched of people.
I have heard the sigh of those in yearning and Longing, and it is sweeter than the sweetest melody.

With evening's coming the flower folds her petals
And sleeps, embracingher longing.
At morning's approach she opens her lips to meet
The sun's kiss.

The life of a flower is longing and fulfilment.
A tear and a smile.

The waters of the sea become vapor and rise and come
Together and area cloud.

And the cloud floats above the hills and valleys
Until it meets the gentle breeze, then falls weeping
To the fields and joins with brooks and rivers to Return to the sea, its home.

The life of clouds is a parting and a meeting.
A tear and a smile.

And so does the spirit become separated from
The greater spirit to move in the world of matter
And pass as a cloud over the mountain of sorrow
And the plains of joy to meet the breeze of death
And return whence it came.

To the ocean of Love and Beauty----to God.

poem by Khalil Gibran
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Tonight all windows are opened wide

Tonight all windows are opened wide
Tonight all hearts blasted in pain converge to heal
Tonight all gentle soft words pay to mend and to appeal
Between us they flow said undisturbed by vain pride

Time has traveled us so far
Broken heart shall we let it journey us forth more
To the end of our painful path; till the last dropp of love’s soar
Where finally we may find the virtue between us, the goodness of our stars

Someone is weeping on a pillow dry
Someone is gasping at the door knob asking why
Let all soft gentle words flow between two of us
And heal and cure all pains to the very last.

Copy rights 2010
All rights reserved

poem by Isaac Ziv
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To Delia

Me to whatever state the gods assign,
Believe, my love, whatever state be mine,
Ne'er shall my breast one anxious sorrow know,
Ne'er shall my heart confess a real woe,
If to thy share heaven's choicest blessings fall,
As thou hast virtue to deserve them all.
Yet vain, alas! that idle hope would be
That builds on happiness remote from thee.
Oh! may thy charms, whate'er our fate decrees,
Please, as they must, but let them only please--
Not like the sun with equal influence shine,
Nor warm with transport any heart but mine.
Ye who from wealth the ill-grounded title boast
To claim whatever beauty charms you most;
Ye sons of fortune, who consult alone
Her parents' will, regardless of her own,
Know that a love like ours, a generous flame,
No wealth can purchase, and no power reclaim.
The soul's affection can be only given
Free, unextorted, as the grace of heaven.
Is there whose faithful bosom can endure
Pangs fierce as mine, nor ever hope a cure?
Who sighs in absence of the dear-loved maid?
Nor summons once indifference to his aid?
Who can, like me, the nice resentment prove,
The thousand soft disquietudes of love;
The trivial strifes that cause a real pain;
The real bliss when reconciled again?
Let him alone dispute the real prize,
And read his sentence in my Delia's eyes;
There shall he read all gentleness and truth,
But not himself, the dear distinguished youth;
Pity for him perhaps they may express--
Pity, that will but heighten his distress.
But, wretched rival! he must sigh to see
The sprightlier rays of love directed all to me.
And thou, dear antidote of every pain
Which fortune can inflict, or love ordain,
Since early love has taught thee to despise
What the world's worthless votaries only prize,
Believe, my love! no less the generous god
Rules in my breast, his ever blest abode;
There has he driven each gross desire away,
Directing every wish and every thought to thee!
Then can I ever leave my Delia's arms,
A slave, devoted to inferior charms?
Can e'er my soul her reason so disgrace?
For what blest minister of heavenly race
Would quit that heaven to find a happier place?

poem by William Cowper
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Written In A Fit Of Illness. R. S. S.

In these sad hours, a prey to ceaseless pain,
While feverish pulses leap in every vein,
When each faint breath the last short effort seems
Of life just parting from my feeble limbs;
How wild soe'er my wandering thoughts may be,
Still, gentle Delia, still they turn on thee!
At length if, slumbering to a short repose,
A sweet oblivion frees me from my woes,
Thy form appears, thy footsteps I pursue,
Through springy vales, and meadows washed in dew;
Thy arm supports me to the fountain's brink,
Where by some secret power forbid to drink,
Gasping with thirst, I view the tempting flood
That flies my touch, or thickens into mud;
Till thine own hand immerged the goblet dips,
And bears it streaming to my burning lips.
There borne aloft on fancy's wing we fly,
Like souls embodied to their native sky;
Now every rock, each mountain, disappears;
And the round earth an even surface wears;
When lo! the force of some resistless weight,
Bears me straight down from that pernicious height;
Parting, in vain our struggling arms we close;
Abhorred forms, dire phantoms interpose;
With trembling voice on thy loved name I call;
And gulfs yawn ready to receive my fall.
From these fallacious visions of distress
I wake; nor are my real sorrows less.
Thy absence, Delia, heightens every ill,
And gives e'en trivial pains the power to kill.
Oh! wert thou near me; yet that wish forbear!
'Twere vain, my love,--'twere vain to wish thee near;
Thy tender heart would heave with anguish too,
And by partaking, but increase my woe.
Alone I'll grieve, till gloomy sorrow past,
Health, like the cheerful day-spring, comes at last,--
Comes fraught with bliss to banish every pain,
Hope, joy, and peace, and Delia in her train!

poem by William Cowper
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The Philosopher To His Love

DEAREST, a look is but a ray
Reflected in a certain way;
A word, whatever tone it wear,
Is but a trembling wave of air;
A touch, obedience to a clause
In nature's pure material laws.

The very flowers that bend and meet,
In sweetening others, grow more sweet;
The clouds by day, the stars by night,
Inweave their floating locks of light;
The rainbow, Heaven's own forehead's braid,
Is but the embrace of sun and shade.

Oh! in the hour when I shall feel
Those shadows round my senses steal,
When gentle eyes are weeping o'er
The clay that feels their tears no more,
Then let thy spirit with me be,
Or some sweet angel, likest thee!

How few that love us have we found!
How wide the world that girds them round
Like mountain streams we meet and part,
Each living in the other's heart,
Our course unknown, our hope to be
Yet mingled in the distant sea.

But Ocean coils and heaves in vain,
Bound in the subtle moonbeam's chain;
And love and hope do but obey
Some cold, capricious planet's ray,
Which lights and leads the tide it charms
To Death's dark caves and icy arms.

Alas! one narrow line is drawn,
That links our sunset with our dawn;
In mist and shade life's morning rose,
And clouds are round it at its close;
But ah! no twilight beam ascends
To whisper where that evening ends.

poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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On Another's Sorrow

Can I see another’s woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief,
And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow’s share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd?

Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird’s grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear,

And not sit beside the nest,
Pouring pity in their breast;
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant’s tear;

And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
O, no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

He doth give His joy to all;
He becomes an infant small;
He becomes a man of woe;
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not near.

O! He gives to us His joy
That our grief he may destroy;
Till our grief is fled & gone
He doth sit by us and moan.

poem by William Blake from Songs of Innocence (1789)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Last Love Song

Precious Family... Dearest Family...
Love's... sweet.... message....I impart....
May loves's.. spirt...pure... and fervid.....
Enter...every... troubled heart.........

Carry there...love's swift conviction....
Turning back...those... tear filled life's....
Precious Family... Dearest Family.....
May love....In our souls.. abide..........

Precious Family.... Dearest family....
I am weak...... but love..is strong..........
Love.. has.....infinite compassion.......
To stem the tides... of pain's.... and wrong's.....

Love keep's... its arms.... around me........
Love keep's..... me... in the narrow.. way......
Precious Family....Dearest family........
Let us never... from love... stray............

Precious Family... Dearest Family....
Love will bind.....those broken.... hearts.....
So let..not sorrows... over.. whelm..us.....
Dry the bitter tears.... that smart.....

Love curbs the winds.. calms the bil....lows
Oh bid.... this angry tempest... cease......
Precious Family.... My Dearest Family
Love gave me... everlasting.....peace.....

One day if my family should ever read this, or if anyone else should?
I want them to know that, only with true love, can we turn back those life's of abuse...! You see abuse has held my family in a prison, that has no bars! No cells! No doors! So....

Maybe one day they will understand
This dream of mine
How great and glorious, love complete
They'll find
For redemption, forgiveness
It is true love's grand design
For when and where
Justice, love and mercy meet.
Its a harmony - So- devine
And fact is
Love is the only dream of mine

So love marks my path and leads my way
For my pains and tears, at every point
Love re-de-fines
To light and life and endless summer days
Love is this dream... of mine....

poem by Clyde Bryson
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A Walk On The Beach By Nadood

From all the stress and all the pain
I would walk on the beach in the rain
I could hear the whispers of the Shore
Taking away all the problems and sore

As I look at the sea
I know there is nothing like this beauty

When I take a deep, deep breathe
It would take out the fear
And I could hear the whispers of the ocean in my ear
Telling me softly and gently 'Oh, dear! Oh dear'

As my heart beat goes faster and faster
I could hear the ocean's laughter

I love it when the gentle touch of the water hits my feet
You would never want to take a seat

When the wind blows
And your hair flows
Your stress just simply goes

You feel as calm as ever
You feel peace and so much better
It's just you and the beach forever

And when you lie on the sand
And you touch it with your hand
You feel like you're in wonderland

Every speck of sand brings back time
Memories and days of faith, hope, and shine
Instead of thinking about crimes

The beach makes you not worried
About the things you did or going to do
Because the whispers of the ocean will still say 'I love you, I really do'

Oh! That soft, gentle touch of the ocean
Makes me wonder about the potion
They used to put me under their spell
And that beautiful sound of the bell

Oh! How much I love the beach
I come to it when I'm sad or mad
I come to it when I'm happy or cranky
I come to it for advice
All this for no price

As I weep beside it about my problems everyday
It is like I can almost feel it touch my shoulder and say 'it's going to be okay'

I don't know whether to trust or believe
But the ocean said 'just follow your heart and you will achieve'

Do you want to know why I love this ocean?
It is because I know it will never leave.
Because finally it told me to achieve

poem by nadood al ND
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