Orpheus with his Lute Made Trees
Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves, when he did sing:
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.
Everything that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their heads, and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Related quotes
The Power of Music
Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain-tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing:
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.
Everything that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their heads, and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep, or, hearing, die.
poem by John Fletcher
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Orpheus
? or John Fletcher.
ORPHEUS with his lute made trees
And the mountain tops that freeze
Bow themselves when he did sing:
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.
Every thing that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their heads and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Fall asleep, or hearing, die.
poem by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let It All Be Music
Music is a mirror
Near around my soul
Music is the spirit
Come on let it roll
Music is my nature
People have you heard
Music is my future
Music is the world
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music isnt somewhere
Music turns you right
Music is a fever
Leads you day and night
Music is like heaven
Where you wanna be
Music is religion
Music sets you free
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
Music is tomorrow
Music is today
Music is forever
Music is the way
Music is for women
Music is for men
Music is for children
Sing it all again
Let it all be music
People sing a song
Let it all be music
Let us sing it on and on and on and on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on
Lets play the music
My kind of music
Lets play the music
Play it on and on and on
I can feel it, in my soul
I can feel it, in my heart
Sweet sweet sweet music
Music
Sweet sweet sweet music
Sweet music
Play it on
Play it on
My my my my my kind of music
Play it
Play the music
My my my my my kind of music
Play it
I said play it
On and on and on and on
Music
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Somebody Bigger Than You & I
(words & music by lange - heath - burke)
Who made the mountains, who made the trees
Who made the rivers flow to the sea
And who sends the rain when the earth is dry
Somebody bigger than you and i
Who made the flowers to bloom in the spring
Who made the song for the robins to sing
And who hung the moon and the stars in the sky
Somebody bigger than you and i
He lights the way when the road is long
He keeps you company
And with his love to guide you
He walks beside you
Just like he walks with me
When were filled with despair
Who gives me courage to go from there
And who gives me faith that will never die
Somebody bigger than you and i
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mountain Music
Words and music by randy owen
Chorus:
Oh, play me some mountain music, like grandma and grandpa used to play.
Then Ill float on down the river to a cajun hideaway
Drift away like tom sawyer, ride a raft with ol huck finn.
Take a nap like rip van winkle, daze dreamin again.
Chorus
Swim across the river, just to prove that Im a man.
Spend the day bein lazy, just bein natures friend.
Climb a long tall hickry. bend it over, skinnin cats.
Playin baseball with chert rocks, usin sawmill slabs for bats.
Bridge:
Play some back-home, come-on music that comes from the heart.
Play something with lots of feelin, cause thats where music has to start
Oh, play me some mountain music, like grandma and grandpa used to play.
Then Ill float on down the river to a cajun hideaway, hey hey.
Tag:
Oh play me mountain music
Oh play me mountain music
Oh play me mountain music
Oh play me mountain music
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eight Years Old
SUN, whom the faltering snow-cloud fears,
Rise, let the time of year be May,
Speak now the word that April hears,
Let March have all his royal way;
Bid all spring raise in winter’s ears
All tunes her children hear or play,
Because the crown of eight glad years
On one bright head is set to-day.
II.
What matters cloud or sun to-day
To him who wears the wreath of years
So many, and all like flowers at play
With wind and sunshine, while his ears
Hear only song on every way?
More sweet than spring triumphant hears
Ring through the revel-rout of May
Are these, the notes that winter fears.
III.
Strong-hearted winter knows and fears
The music made of love at play,
Or haply loves the tune he hears
From hearts fulfilled with flowering May,
Whose molten music thaws his ears
Late frozen, deaf but yesterday
To sounds of dying and dawning years,
Now quickened on his deathward way.
IV.
For deathward now lies winter’s way
Down the green vestibule of years
That each year brightens day by day
With flower and shower till hope scarce fears
And fear grows wholly hope of May.
But we—the music in our ears
Made of love’s pulses as they play
The heart alone that makes it hears.
V.
The heart it is that plays and hears
High salutation of to-day.
Tongue falters, hand shrinks back, song fears
Its own unworthiness to play
Fit music for those eight sweet years,
Or sing their blithe accomplished way.
No song quite worth a young child’s ears
Broke ever even from birds in May.
VI.
There beats not in the heart of May,
When summer hopes and springtide fears,
There falls not from the height of day,
When sunlight speaks and silence hears,
So sweet a psalm as children play
And sing, each hour of all their years,
Each moment of their lovely way,
And know not how it thrills our ears.
VII.
Ah child, what are we, that our ears
Should hear you singing on your way,
Should have this happiness? The years
Whose hurrying wings about us play
Are not like yours, whose flower-time fears
Nought worse than sunlit showers in May,
Being sinless as the spring, that hears
Her own heart praise her every day.
VIII.
Yet we too triumph in the day
That bare, to entrance our eyes and ears,
To lighten daylight, and to play
Such notes as darkness knows and fears,
The child whose face illumes our way,
Whose voice lifts up the heart that hears,
Whose hand is as the hand of May
To bring us flowers from eight full years.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Music & Me
Weve been together for such a long time now
Music, music and me
Dont care wether all our songs rhyme
Now music, music and me
Only know wherever I go
Were as close as two friends can be
There have been others
But never two lovers
Like music, music and me
Grab a song and come along
You can sing your melody
In your mind you will find
A world of sweet harmony
Birds of a feather will fly together
Now music, music and me
Music and me
song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Somebody Bigger Than You And I (take 12)
Who made the mountains, who made the trees
Who made the rivers flow to the sea
And who sends the rain when the earth is dry
Somebody bigger than you and I
Who made the flowers to bloom in the spring
Who made the song for the robins to sing
And who hung the moon and the stars in the sky
Somebody bigger than you and I
He lights the way when the road is long
He keeps you company
And with His love to guide you
He walks beside you
Just like He walks with me
When were filled with despair
Who gives me courage to go from there
And who gives me faith that will never die
Somebody bigger than you and I
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode to the Fallen Soldier
Ode to the Fallen soldier,
For he has made the ultimate
Sacrifice for his world.
Ode to his Mother for while
She lives, the grief and sadness
Take their toll on her mind, as
She goes throughout her day,
Answering questions like “are
You ok? ” and “where is your
Son, I haven’t seen him for a while? ”
She always answers, “yes I’m fine”
Or, “he’s away.” But she knows, inside,
She can’t deny.
Ode to the son he left behind,
For he will grow up without
Knowing who his father is,
Only what he’s done. Never
Will he play catch in the yard,
Like the neighbors next door.
Never will he hear that “Man to
Man” talk, that all boys should.
Ode to the music that will never
Be heard, for the only music
He made, rests in his heart.
Ode to the art that will never be
Seen, for the only art he made,
Remains in a box underground.
Ode to the Fallen Soldier, who
Died so we could live, the way
All mankind should, happy and free.
poem by David A Harris
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That tone of Music
That tone of dogs:
Is the one that turn her! ! !
Make her the legend of Africa
That made her the best of the best
That gives her the name “Mama Africa”
That made her think of tomorrow.
That tone of bird:
Made her tune on the radio
That made her say “I’m a Diva”
Made her say “I’m a weekend special”
That turns her to Brenda.
That tone of lion:
Made her the Lionel
Made her say “I’m African Madonna”
That made her sing “I’m Dangerous”
That made her the Drama Queen
That tone of music:
That made us proud
To say “I’m an African”
And made us walk free in that Island
And say “I’m proud of African music”
That tone of music, that says with small voices
Made me not take that plane to U.S.A
Made me stay in R.S.A
Made me forget about the past
Make me listen to music
That help that build, that changes, that ragtime
Made me who am I today?
poem by Happy Mhlongo
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Feel The Music
What is music and why is it here?
Music is made for the ear.
To be made and played for many of decades.
To be embraced by different cultures and race,
Music
the heart of man
Only it seems now only a few understand
Music.
The upbeat the down beat the chords the rhythm it plays.
Exchanging and changing forever.
Music.
Not one man can take the responsibility for making the music the music made us.
You have to trust in the
Music
Classical Jazz, Swing, Country everything it brings.
Music.
Although music has a lot of names it will always remain the same
Music will always change.
The dramatic character of a story.
It will always end with the final glory.
Because of its graceful authority
music
Don't make music that embraces no heart
Make music that shall shine threw the dark.
Music lives every where.
Creating our atmosphere.
Our world circulates by the beat the music makes
So listen to the music see what is hidden in side.
Listen to the music shhhh! Close your eyes.
Unknown music is everywhere.
So open your ears stand clear
music it is taking over so beware!
There is no escaping
There is no replacing
There is no other so there is no point of looking further my brotha.
Without music where would I be?
It took sweet love music to create me.
The songs of Al green and Barry White stimulated the body so it is no fighting the
Music
Because the music doesn't fight u it hugs u kisses u loves u
Cause the music only can be true
'Lets make music', I've it heard said
But making music is not just in the bed
Music is made threw gospel beats threw the songs of rappers through the notes of the streets.
So let's make music my friend.
A sad moment in your life
'The rain is on your window pane' as Mary J. explains threw a song.
What more do I have to say music is made to be played.
There is no escapade
It is understood music is what it should be
Music is what it will always be
Okay! U understand now so read the music
That sings threw me
Read the music it is written so clearly
read my music
Make your own beat
So let me ask u do u feel the music that I've Just made
Do you feel the music running through your veins
Do you feel the music in my poetry song
Well, if u don't feel the music then something is wrong
Cause music are written in these words
just listen hush! Cause music will be heard
BY: TIFFANY BURTON
THE LOVE OF MUSIC INSPIRED ME
Ó 2006 Tiffany Burton
poem by Tiffany Burton
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Music Of Love 2
The music of love
is everywhere
as spring rears its head.
Flowers start to bud;
birds in the trees
start to sing their mating call.
The world wakens every morn
to the music of love
as it sings it through the trees
inviting everything to join in
and sing its chorus strong.
21 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Apollo Is Alive and Well and Living in Suburbia...
Last night, a great lute-player
as full of enthusiasm for the power of music
and its history of the human heart
as far as history recedes, as I remember him
forty years ago before his fame had spread,
handed his lute around the dinner-table
as if we were at some christening party
for the eternal birth of eternal music
in the eternal present moment…
the lute shining like a promise
of things greater and unknown..
yet… not unknown to the eager heart...
made of several woods, matured
for around eight years; like pearwood,
the driest wood known; all nature
had conspired (as poets put it) ,
the trees had conferred together
in praise of the music which they hear
hints of through their winter branches,
in their rustling young spring leaves,
in the wind’s dry whisper in red and brown late curling leaves…
and a man had put all this together
with its invisible fierce tensions held
by cunning of design, to permit
the gentlest sounds of laughter, tears…
a man who after years of skill
built into priceless treasures such as this
now works in La Jolla as a restorer
of heritage houses from the nineteen-hundreds…
and the lute itself! when holding it, it seemed
to have a ‘negative weight’ – as if
its very balance, laws of immaterial sound
made material in our human world
had made a thing of spirit, which begged
return to its very elements of ether,
sound, air, touch, and music’s fire,
the flow of love in laughter and in tears,
so that I swear, it had no weight
but rather, was its opposite…
he played an ancient song
composed before songs were written down,
recorded for us – its sole record, this –
by the first inventor, from the Italian courts,
of moveable musical type; a song
which transcended its Christian story
of sin and sorrow and repenting grief;
its music, roaming in its memory,
over Africa, Asia, all the length
and breadth of the human heart
recorded in the sound of music…
this the magic that rose in the air
around a dinner-table in a suburban house
touched by a boundless, weightless eternity of grace.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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I Hear
When the trees sing what matters is knowing.
That the trees are singing at all.
their gentle music ever out flowing
for those attuned to hear its call.
Although all children hear and sing along,
most adults have forgotten how
to listen to the trees and hear their song
They’re far too busy to allow
themselves to be distracted by the trees
Their minds are fixed on other things
and do not miss the melodies
The gentle breeze amongst the branches sings
It makes no difference at all
The trees still sing as they have always done
in summer, spring winter and fall.
I listen for the music of the trees
those sad but sometimes joyous harmonies.
10-Dec-08
http; // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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In This Garden
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
The flowers and the grass
The stones and the water
The sculptures and all art
Sing a song
A song of beauty
A song of harmony
A song of hope
The wind whistles gently
Is it to the east?
Or is it to the west?
I don’t know and I don’t need to know
All is so beautiful
Hush…
Hush humanity
Hush…
I can feel the scent on y nostrils
The scent of the flowers
The sound of the water nearby welcoming
Peace
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
With beautiful flowers
Where art lives
Hush
Play the music
Let the flowers live the music
Let the drums be heard
Let the music come to life
Play the music
Let it be heard here today
In this garden
In this beautiful garden
With very beautiful flowers
Where art comes to life
poem by Jack Shaka
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A Musical Sound Is Forever!
Music everybody loves in the world;
Birds are loved mainly for their music;
Animals and plants too love music!
I have seen plants growing by music;
I have seen snake dancing by music!
Nature, music and book occupy all;
Without them life will be a real bore;
Life interest depends on their influence!
I have seen people with ear phones
Enjoying music when walking or travelling!
Music is beautiful order of sound we hear,
Which is produced by musical instruments.
Sweet voice of singers with music is divine!
I have seen many listening to TV Music often;
I have seen all dancing by pop singers’ music!
Gentleman Jim Reeves moves many hearts;
Pop King Elvis Presley still entertains fans;
The Beatles move the hearts still to divinity;
Michael Jackson has created music history;
Ricky Martin has made president dance too!
Who is there not moved by music in the world?
Essence of Dharma is Lord’s Song, Bhagavad-Gita!
Spirituality is developed by Lord’s music in Nature;
Musical preaching of Lords have become holy books
That rules the heart, mind and soul of all in the world!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Ecstasy Made Easy
I can always try to forget somehow
Whats a part of the past
Have a little laughter if you please
I wont even mind if it takes awhile
Ive got time on my hands
I feel another chapter in the breeze
Somebody touched my heart string
Somebody made my heart sing
Somebody stole my heart away
Nobodys sayin their sorry
Its a mighty sweet music
You can dance all night
Put some wood on the fire right now
Ecstacy made easy
Ecstasy I ask you, are you a name
Or just another patron with a smile
Let me analyze you, are you a flame
Or just the dying embers
Of a kiss run wild
Somebody found my heart string
Somebody made my heart sing
Somebody touched my heart last night
Somebody set me in flight
Its a mighty sweet music
Take a chance they say
Put some fire on the old iron stove
Ecstasy made easy, made easy
I hope I never lose what belongs to me
By the right of my birth
At midnight sailing out of perth
Getting under way we turned er westward bound
On that southern sea
To sea what ecstasy was worth
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As long as its music
Please play me a symphony
Make a simple cheerful harmony
Please play me a chord from a guitar
For me, it does not matter
If I’m the only audience of your theatre
Give me some instrumental vibes
All rhythms and tunes are musically ripe
There is no need to take precaution
While playing the Banjo or flamenco percussion
As long as its music
We can all heal
As long as its music
We can all feel
We can sing out our hearts and soul
We can let this music take control
Please play me the drums
We can sing or we can hum
Please play me a CD or a hit record
We could sing to the tunes of an ipod
With the sounds of music we can compose a song
Maybe sing to the town’s bells chiming ding-dong
Please play me the sweet keys of a piano
Hit a sweet note that is a major or minor
As long as its music
We can all heal or cry
As long as its music
We can all feel or fly high
And I will be lost in your voice and eyes
Holding on to each minute that flies
Whatever sounds or instruments
I shall feel good in the moment
Please play me a note from a flute
Those peaceful sounds tend to soothe
I want to hear sweet, sweet music
Choose your lyrics, take your pick
My heart will dance, till she is weak
Get out that guitar, acoustic or electric
Please play me the violins of an orchestra night
String me some melodies in broad daylight
And we can rap to melodious sense or crap
While our feet’s playfully tap, tap and tap
As long as its music
We can dance along the shore
As long as its music
We can all take to the dance floor
And I say once more, once more!
As long as its music, I will only ask for more
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Beautiful Music
Before I knew that I was blessed
When I was just like the rest of the people
Who never let dreams in their minds
Music would play and say
Maybe you're wastin' your time
Before I knew what good could be
When I couldn't see the need or the reason
For trusting in me or my star
Music would play and say
Hey, what a dummy you are!
And when I heard all the words about passion
Singin' to me about love of a fashion
That I never heard anywhere else
That's when I said,
"Gotta get some of that for myself"
And when I heard about hurtin' and healin'
Beautiful words about beautiful feelings
What lots of believin' could do
Beautiful music, I knew it just had to be true
You're beautiful
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Before I saw my life in lights
When I couldn't taste the nights I was missin'
I'd listen alone in my bed
And music would sing to me
Things no one else even said
And when I heard all the words about passion
Singin' to me about love of a fashion
That I never heard anywhere else
That's when I said,
"Gotta get some of that for myself"
And when I heard about hurtin' and healin'
Beautiful words about beautiful feelings
What lots of believin' could do
Beautiful music, I knew it just had to be true
You're beautiful
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful Music
Beautiful, Beautiful Music
-acapo
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poem That Comes From Hearing The Poem Of Another
The poem that comes from hearing the poem of another
And tries to ride on its rhythm
Like the sea on its own waves-
A forced music finding nowhere in itself a music of its own
Because all the poems are melodies made light by more light
As all the poems are dreams made dreamlike by more dreaming-
And we in our poetic fervor hearing that lyric sound
Go round and round again and again
As if we were the music of the stars
When the universe empirically spherical –
But now in this more deeply instrumented time,
When what we see with our eyes is always less than what we measure
Time and Time again tells us that Space and Space again tell us
That all we are in this long distance darkness
Is one small point of light which in its own sad way will fade out before its music endures-
For the stars have only our imagined music
and not more than the light
of their own violent dying –
So here having heard the poem of another
And open to my own inner voice,
I cry and cry again for another sky and another music
That only God Who is Beyond these earthly hapless sounds
Can Dream and Feel and Know
In the Lyric Ending that justifies our home.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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