Gull In An Aery Morrice
Gulls in an aery morrice
Gleam and vanish and gleam . . .
The full sea, sleepily basking,
Dreams under skies of dream.
Gulls in an aery morrice
Circle and swoop and close . . .
Fuller and ever fuller
The rose of the morning blows.
Gulls, in an aery morrice
Frolicking, float and fade . . .
O, the way of a bird in the sunshine,
The way of a man with a maid!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Related quotes
Seagulls
crying out
the gulls
melancholy cry
seeking a dream?
souls locked in flight
chasing a dream?
crying out
these gulls
a medium
for this living soul
my dream
loud as the sea
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Wings
Pearl-gray is the sky,
And high within it, sailing by,
Three sea-gulls fly.
Pearl-white are they
Against the sky's obscurer gray—
Sea-foam astray.
Gulls, sea-gulls white,
Drift of the day, drift of the night,
Mine be your flight!
Out—out, with you
Beyond the noise, into the blue!
Ah—if I knew!
poem by Harriet Monroe
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Tides
Love in my heart was a fresh tide flowing
Where the starlike sea gulls soar;
The sun was keen and the foam was blowing
High on the rocky shore.
But now in the dusk the tide is turning,
Lower the sea gulls soar,
And the waves that rose in resistless yearning
Are broken forevermore.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Hamlet Meets His Maker
Unseen and scene,
Of both composed;
these aery heavens,
this solid globe.
Will roused my Sire's
ghost from the grave.
Will would, for
that's the part
he played.
What is Will's will
I next should say?
Will I best Laertes
with my foil today?
Will the villain, Claudius,
be undone
by his victim's
vacillating son?
What is Will's will
regarding Mum?
Unseen and scene,
Of both composed;
these Aery heavens
this solid globe.
Now I lay dying,
and Fortenbras comes.
Let my tale be told
in every tongue.
'The rest is silence'-
Thy will be done.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Wonderful Life
Here I go
Out to the sea again
The sunshine fills my hair
And dreams hang in the air
Gulls in the sky
And in my blue eyes
I know it feels unfair
There is magic everywhere
Look at me standing here
Here on my own again
Up straight in the sunshine
No need to run and hide
It's a wonderful
song performed by by Ace Of Base from Da Capo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christians rejoice because God is their heavenly Father who forgives the penitent, because God sent his Son into the world for the salvation of all who have faith, because Jesus Christ not only died but was raised again from the dead and because joy is one of the ninefold fruits of the Spirit.
quote by W.G. Morrice
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Swings of Childhood
Into exile
To depth of feeling
To the green paradise
To silence of seasons
To the Old Testament
Wherever you go
Swings of childhood
Will whisper to your soul
Which bets as the rain
Swings of childhood
Will whisper to gulls's hearts
Which bet as dreams
Into exile
To depth of flowers
To outer space
to the bottom of black hole
Everywhere in the universe
My imagination will call you
And we will meet
When swings and gulls meet
poem by Naji Almurisi
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The Old Magic
Gray is the sea, and the skies are gray;
They are ghosts of our blue, bright yesterday;
And gray are the breasts of the gulls that scream
Like tortured souls in an evil dream.
There is white on the wings of the sea and sky,
And white are the gulls' wings wheeling by,
And white, like snow, is the pall that lies
Where love weeps over his memories.
For the dead is dead, and its shroud is wrought
Of good unfound and of wrong unsought;
Yet from God's good magic there ever springs
The resurrection of holy things.
See--the gold and blue of our yesterday
In the eyes and the hair of a child at play;
And the spell of joy that our youth beguiled
Is woven anew in the laugh of the child.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Weston-Super-Mare
The sun is always shining
In Weston-Super-Mare;
At least it always has been
Whenever we've been there.
The beach is nice and sandy,
It's long and clean and wide;
The trouble is it's full cars...
Unless there is a tide.
We haven't been there too much
Because it's quite a drive,
We first must go to Taunton,
Then on to the M five.
It takes about an hour,
Depending on our speed;
Then when we're there and parked up
We usually have a feed.
The place is full of sea-gulls
Just as you would expect;
There's nothing that they won't eat,
There's nothing they'll reject.
They dive and swoop like gannets,
(Another big sea-bird)
And once they ate my sandwiches,
The ones with lemon-curd.
The sun is always shining
In Weston-Super-Mare;
The reason is quite simple:
It's summer when we're there!
Written Aug 1994
poem by John Carter Brown
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The Gulls
I
Soft is the sky in the mist-kirtled east,
Light is abroad on the sea,
All of the heaven with silver is fleeced,
Holding the sunrise in fee.
Lo! with a flash and uplifting of wings
Down where the long ripples break,
Cometh a bevy of glad-hearted things,
'Tis morn, for the gulls are awake.
II
Slumberous calm on the ocean and shore
Comes with the turn of the tide;
Never a strong-sweeping pinion may soar,
Where the tame fishing-boats ride!
Far and beyond in blue deserts of sea
Where the wild winds are at play,
There may the spirits of sea-birds be free
'Tis noon, for the gulls are away.
III
Over the rim of the sunset is blown
Sea-dusk of purple and gold,
Speed now the wanderers back to their own,
Wings the most tireless must fold.
Homeward together at twilight they flock,
Sated with joys of the deep
Drowsily huddled on headland and rock
'Tis night, for the gulls are asleep.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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There Isn't Any Doggerel There
There isn't any doggerel there this morning
The inspiration well in me is dry
I hear the sound of footsteps on the sidewalk
And silver gulls along the foreshore cry.
And on the silky oaks house sparrows chirping
For house sparrows don't have a song to sing
And magpie lark the black and white bird whistling
His pee wee notes have a familiar ring.
And through it all the noise of passing traffic
And gas and smog pollute suburban skies
And Humankind I feel is the big loser
Where voice of Nature compete with man created noise.
Of any inspiration i feel empty
I feel burnt out from scribbling doggerel
The poets are gone to join the poets of heaven
And i am bound for the poetasters hell.
On silky oak the plain house sparrows chirping
And magpie lark is whistling pee wee
And man created noise compete with Nature
And silver gulls are calling by the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Dot white sea-gulls
The ship floats apt to bear up round,
our crew of nine, lace on bonnets,
the Mistral conds the ship abound,
arcane new shores lay to astound,
and nine sea nymphs from ocean depths,
we hope to find new views of breadth,
and Mistral blows to dreams confound
the sails distend with hopes well set.
Dot white sea-gulls peculiar circle,
foretelling that the land is near,
the crew starts boisterous to hurtle,
laughingly sing as scents nice herb'l,
affect our senses and cheers peart,
resplendent maids on sunshine vern'l,
of years before in blooms and kirtles,
predestined om'ns are commandeers,
the nymphs invite amid the myrtles.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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The Ship of Oak
When the bow-waves race through the foam
and aft are the boiling trails,
What ship is that in the fading light
with the press and the wind in her sails?
When the salvo flashes through the smoke
and the stricken cruisers reel,
Behold a pennoned ship of oak
That leads the ships of steel!
Through storms of lashing hail
When the green swells life and gleam,
What sailor now commands the Fleet?
The Captain of a dream:
When battle thunders to the shock
Or while the gulls go swerving by,
He leads the Fleet in a ship of oak,
One arm and blinded eye.
poem by Herbert Asquith
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The Dark Well
They see you as they see you,
A poor farmer with no name,
Ploughing cloudward, sowing the wind
With squalls of gulls at the day's end.
To me you are Prytherch, the man
Who more than all directed my slow
Charity where there was need.
There are two hungers, hunger for bread
And hunger of the uncouth soul
For the light's grace. I have seen both,
And chosen for an indulgent world's
Ear the story of one whose hands
Have bruised themselves on the locked doors
Of life; whose heart, fuller than mine
Of gulped tears, is the dark well
From which to draw, drop after drop,
The terrible poetry of his kind.
poem by Ronald Stuart Thomas
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Birds
The fierce musical cries of a couple of sparrowhawks hunting
on the headland,
Hovering and darting, their heads northwestward,
Prick like silver arrows shot through a curtain the noise of the
ocean
Trampling its granite; their red backs gleam
Under my window around the stone corners; nothing gracefuller,
nothing
Nimbler in the wind. Westward the wave-gleaners,
The old gray sea-going gulls are gathered together, the northwest
wind wakening
Their wings to the wild spirals of the wind-dance.
Fresh as the air, salt as the foam, play birds in the bright wind,
fly falcons
Forgetting the oak and the pinewood, come gulls
From the Carmel sands and the sands at the river-mouth, from
Lobos and out of the limitless
Power of the mass of the sea, for a poem
Needs multitude, multitudes of thoughts, all fierce, all flesh-eaters,
musically clamorous
Bright hawks that hover and dart headlong, and ungainly
Gray hungers fledged with desire of transgression, salt slimed
beaks, from the sharp
Rock-shores of the world and the secret waters.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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The Ballet Of The Fifth Year
Where the sea gulls sleep or indeed where they fly
Is a place of different traffic. Although I
Consider the fishing bay (where I see them dip and curve
And purely glide) a place that weakens the nerve
Of will, and closes my eyes, as they should not be
(They should burn like the street-light all night quietly,
So that whatever is present will be known to me),
Nevertheless the gulls and the imagination
Of where they sleep, which comes to creation
In strict shape and color, from their dallying
Their wings slowly, and suddenly rallying
Over, up, down the arabesque of descent,
Is an old act enacted, my fabulous intent
When I skated, afraid of policemen, five years old,
In the winter sunset, sorrowful and cold,
Hardly attained to thought, but old enough to know
Such grace, so self-contained, was the best escape to know.
poem by Delmore Schwartz
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A place so perfect for Romance :)
I get butterflies…don't know why.
Let my imagination take me high.
Never have I met you… then what is wrong?
With me and my illusions...you can't go wrong.
So pack your bags and come with me
To a place where we should be-
Where sea gulls fly and mermaids dance
A place so perfect for romance:
An island where the moon shines bright.
We'll dip and dance all through the night
And catch the waves and ride the tide
Where dolphins swim, and play and hide.
The stars will gleam and colors enhance
Of what our lives should bring by chance.
poem by Meena Mustafa
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The Awakening River
The gulls are mad-in-love with the river,
And the river unveils her face and smiles.
In her sleep-brooding eyes they mirror their shining wings.
She lies on silver pillows: the sun leans over her.
He warms and warms her, he kisses and kisses her.
There are sparks in her hair and she stirs in laughter.
Be careful, my beautiful waking one! You will catch
on fire.
Wheeling and flying with the foam of the sea on their
breasts,
The ineffable mists of the sea clinging to their wild wings,
Crying the rapture of the boundless ocean,
The gulls are mad-in-love with the river.
Wake! we are the dream thoughts flying form your heart.
Wake! we are the songs of desire flowing from your
bosom.
O, I think the sun will lend her his great wings
And the river will fly to the sea with the mad-in-
love birds.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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I dream of wayward gulls and all landless lovers, rare moments of winter sun, peace, privacy, for everyone.
quote by William Claire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I dream of wayward gulls and all landless lovers, rare moments of winter sun, peace, privacy, for everyone.
quote by William F Claire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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