Related quotes: Keepe on your maske and...

Keepe On Your Maske (Version for his Mistress)

Keepe on your maske and hide your eye
For in beholding you I dye.
Your fatall beauty Gorgon-like
Dead with astonishment doth strike.
Your piercing eyes that now I see
Are worse than Basilisks to me.
Shut from mine eyes those hills of snow,
Their melting vally do not shew:
Those azure paths lead to despaire,
O vex me not, forbear, forbear;
For while I thus in torments dwell
The sight of Heaven is worse than Hell.
In those faire cheeks two pits doe lye
To bury those slaine by your eye:
So this at length doth comfort me
That fairely buried I shall be:
My grave with Roses, Lillies, spread,
Methinks tis life for to be dead:
Come then and kill me with your eye,
For if you let me live I dye.
When I perceive your lips againe
Recover those your eyes have slaine,
With kisses that (like balsome pure)
Deep wounds as soone as made doe cure,
Methinks tis sicknesse to be sound,
And there's no health to such a wound.
When in your bosome I behold
Two hills of snow yet never cold,
Which lovers, whom your beauty kills,
Revive by climing those your hills,
Methinks there's life in such a death
That gives a hope of sweeter breath:
Then since one death prevails not where
So many antidotes are nere,
And your bright eyes doe but in vaine
Kill those who live as fast as slaine;
That I no more such death survive
Your way's to bury me alive
In place unknown, and so that I
Being dead may live and living dye.

poem by William Strode
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Related quotes

Keepe On Your Maske And Hide Your Eye

Keepe on your maske, and hide your eye,
For with beholding you I dye:
Your fatall beauty, Gorgon-like,
Dead with astonishment will strike;
Your piercing eyes if them I see
Are worse than basilisks to mee.

Shutt from mine eyes those hills of snowe,
Their melting valleys doe not showe;
Their azure paths lead to dispaire,
O vex me not, forbeare, forbeare;
For while I thus in torments dwell
The sight of heaven is worse than hell.

Your dayntie voyce and warbling breath
Sound like a sentence pass'd for death;
Your dangling tresses are become
Like instruments of finall doome.
O if an Angell torture so,
When life is done where shall I goe?

poem by William Strode
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Eyes of Death

I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes of Death
I killed for those eyes to look into mine
Into my eyes of pain and guilt
I dared to walk into your path
I dared to take your hand into mine
And I dared to tell you my darkest secret
I stared into your Eyes of Death
And I lost my soul to them
When I looked into your Eyes of Death.
To this day, I am still dead
To this day, I can no longer live in the mortal world
To this day, we shall not die of fire, water, or love,
But of our Eyes of Death that rein our souls
I stare into your Eyes of Death and I cringe at the sight
I look into your Eyes of Death and I am no longer alive
I looked into your Eyes of Death
And I died again, before I could run from them
For I cannot stand to be around you to this very day again
I looked into your eyes
Your Eyes…of Death

poem by Jade DragonHeart
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To certaine questions and Riddles ensuing: XIII

Amongst the firiendships rare,
Of which old writers tell:
This may bee plaste in highest roome,
And doth deserue it well.
Whiles death with gasping throte
Did gape for bloody pray,
Life conquered death, and saude that life,
Which death did seeke to slay.
That life which did this deede,
As death would straight haue slaine:
That life which late by him was saude,
Preserude from death againe.

poem by Humfrey Gifford
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Oh, Ye Dead!

Oh, ye Dead! oh, ye Dead! whom we know by the light you give
From your cold gleaming eyes, though you move like men who live,
Why leave you thus your graves,
In far off fields and waves,
Where the worm and the sea-bird only know your bed,
To haunt this spot where all
Those eyes that wept your fall,
And the hearts that wail'd you, like your own, lie dead?

It is true, it is true, we are shadows cold and wan;
And the fair and the brave whom we loved on earth are gone;
But still thus even in death,
So sweet the living breath
Of the fields and the flowers in our youth we wander'd o'er,
That ere, condemn'd, we go
To freeze 'mid Hecla's snow,
We would taste it a while, and think we live once more!

poem by Thomas Moore
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Holy Sonnet XVI: Father

Father, part of his double interest
Unto thy kingdome, thy Sonne gives to mee,
His joynture in the knottie Trinitie
Hee keepes, and gives to me his deaths conquest.
This Lambe, whose death, with life the world hath blest,
Was from the worlds beginning slaine, and he
Hath made two Wills, which with the Legacie
Of his and thy kingdome, doe thy Sonnes invest.
Yet such are thy laws, that men argue yet
Whether a man those statutes can fulfill;
None doth; but all-healing grace and spirit
Revive againe what law and letter kill.
Thy lawes abridgement, and thy last command
Is all but love; Oh let this last Will stand!

poem by John Donne
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Disingenuousness

Here lies another box for nature,
Carbon ready;
Black to eyes down here,
Where death is at its job.

Up there you’ll hear a rhythmic sob
Or two from living yet-to-dies –
A humming lacrimoso –
It all but cleans the eyes:

Forget it –
The dismal show of grief –
Life is only chemistry –
Our stay is only brief.
It’s we who hype it up!

Diaphragms jerk again;
The jet monotone of hearses
Feeds the disingenuousness
Of undertakers –
They seem to stare at something up ahead –
For them, it’s in the blood,
To taxi off the dead.

The March of Death

Death death death death death death death death death death death

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Death - The Gift of Life

There’s nothing certain but death
Nor beyond nor before
We are born and live to die
Death the only gift of life

We fret; make noise, shout and cry
We skid from hills to valley and back
Get torn among home, work and friends
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

We fight, we scream, we spurn
We step on each others’ toe
All to achieve and amass
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

Walk we straight with pride
Look we people in the eye
Seldom do we stop and stoop
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

We make friends, yet sly
Break hearts and water eyes
Too proud to bend or mend
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

Each death promise another
Our last breath gives forth life
To another birth to die again
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

Never can we live past in life
In death we reach the very start
From grains we come, to grains we go
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

poem by Thomas PJ New Delhi
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Unto This Last

They brought my fair love out upon a bier—
Out from the dwelling that her smile made sweet,
Out from the life that her life made complete,
Into the glitter of the garish street—
And no man wept, save I, for that dead dear.
And then the dark procession wound along,
Like a black serpent with a snow-white bird
Held in its fangs. I think God said a word
To death, as He in His chill heaven heard
Her voice so sweeter than His seraph’s song.

And so Death took away her flower-sweet breath
One darkest day of days in a dark year,
And brought to that strong God who had no fear
My own dear love. Ah, closed eyes without peer!
Ah, red lips pressed on the blue lips of Death!

poem by Victor James Daley
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Forever Starts at the End (A Sonnet)

Eternal life will start in my late last.
But who knows death began ere I was born?
A christian needs to die, as it's a must,
Before he could have seen the coming morn.
The day I went out from my mother's womb,
Is just as my death anniversary.
A dead child risen from a woman's tomb,
And breathing dust that lives for vanity.
I'm now alive but died with Him; and then,
Will die to live a life, and will not die
Again of death that doubled-killed the men
Born dead, although, alive, yet passers-by...
The residents of deathless fire where dwell
Those who died dead to die a death in Hell.

poem by Ray Remalig
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A Song

Lord, when the sense of thy sweet grace
Sends up my soul to seek thy face.
Thy blessed eyes breed such desire,
I dy in love’s delicious Fire.
O love, I am thy Sacrifice.
Be still triumphant, blessed eyes.
Still shine on me, fair suns! that I
Still may behold, though still I dy.

Though still I dy, I live again;
Still longing so to be still slain,
So gainfull is such losse of breath.
I dy even in desire of death.
Still live in me this loving strife
Of living Death and dying Life.
For while thou sweetly slayest me
Dead to my selfe, I live in Thee.

poem by Richard Crashaw
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Duties, Regrets, And Big Upsets

Detrimental to life hardly... its not the end
but after so much regret and pain.. is this life worth it to mend
sit it out and wait
i feel like such things will not abate
this doom this end this death! mental, physical, or spiritual, death is death
Yet i am supposed to hope i breathe not life's last breath
nay i say to you
and i hope one day you may say it too
necessary to follow this job and complete said task
100% mandatory, why do you even need to ask
... maybe because some things are too much
and this thing is such
do you expect me to kill myself in one way
and life in others until i am dead in all
its rife now its rife pain, and ambivalence too plenty of that go away
cant you hear the tone the equivalence of death... maddening how i talk after i fall
maddening too... can you hear it inside your head
well i can... this is no chide... this is no call this isn't a game i feel dead
not yet not yet i hate my job this is no task this is living like a zombie
nay worse like one who is wounded unable to die or to heal! why? !
how...get me out now i regret it all get away no...strike me now! !
it must end these wounds cannot mend
yet wait do i see just a ray
is it possible that all goodness, all kindness, and all light haven't gone away
tis this a sign? tis this a ray of evil... nay tis a ray..... a ray
of hope

poem by David Knox
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Ode to the dragon

I was inspired to express my love for dragons in old-English.
This ode which is called an irregular ode glorifies the dragon.
In Asiatic cultures, dragons are worshiped for their wisdom and longevity.

Though thy teeth be sharp, and thy claws great, waste not thy strength on me,
for thy beauty doth pierce mine heart worse than any wound.

Do not waste thy breath upon me, for I burn already a passion far greater than I can bear.

Oh dragon, hold back not thine beauty from mine eyes any longer, spread thy wings for me, let me see thy grace, thy majesty, thy glory complete!

Though thy scales turn away the sword, they can not turn away my love for thee.
Though thy wings block the sun, they can not block mine thoughts so bright of thee.
Though thy eyes stare death, I...only have eyes... for thee.

(3: 23 AM.01,23,10)

poem by Jacob Ellinger
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Am I Evil?

Years of living peril and anguish cease
When evil was killed, by my senseless wrath
As his eyes closed and his heart decease
I smirked I smiled and innocently laughed
This man was evil and deserved to die
He made my sins look common and mundane
Deceiving all with his clandestine lie
Vulgarizing life that was holy he hath profane
The moisture of mankind as they woefully cry.
Over his sins, over the souls he doth steal
From loved ones whom love naught now
All the life of love, and its ardent zeal
This man took by the hand of death and how?
He killed, pillaged and with life he stripped
With rage in his eyes as red as fire
He strangled and with knife in hand ripped
The flesh of love, the flesh of desire
With no conscience to judge or heart to feel
This man was evil for evil in him doth be
The dead man, for death in him was real
And death all around him is all he did see…
But his wife sobs and his son doth weep
And in me I marvel at death and happy to kill
Does evil cry? No! than why doth people cry over evil
And me cry naught; did the devil tempt me?
Is evil like a disease, that is contagious and viral?
Hath evil infected me, could I evil, truelly be?
For they weep for an evil man
And no man weep for me, and me not weep
I am evil, for this man's evil doth evil be
in me in my will deep....

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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I Stare Death in the Eyes

Every morning I wake up
To stare death in the eyes
Thinking of everyone
I put the gun away
I walk away from the eyes of death
I got through the pain everyday
Not because it happens
Because it happened
Staring death in the eyes
Makes me understand why
Slitting wrist
Buck shots to the head
Eating bullets
Become a reality
Rather than imaginary
Staring death in the eyes
Makes me more comfy
With death
To myself
To end life
Is not the way
Because of pain and others
Are why I live today
I stared death in the eyes…
And I survive to live another day

poem by Thomas Conner
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Suttee

LAMP of my life, the lips of Death
Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath;
Naught shall revive thy vanished spark . . .
Love, must I dwell in the living dark?

Tree of my life, Death's cruel foot
Hath crushed thee down to thy hidden root;
Nought shall restore thy glory fled . . .
Shall the blossom live when the tree is dead?

Life of my life, Death's bitter sword
Hath severed us like a broken word,
Rent us in twain who are but one . .
Shall the flesh survive when the soul is gone?

poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Til Death

Kill.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Were fighting death remove any wait.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Fighting death.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Were fighting death remove any wait.
Were fighting death in a living hell.
Fighting death.
You play the loser.
Remain to live.
Live to the day.
Find the need, kill all.
Kill, raid, rot, and live to fight death.
We loathe thee to the death.
Loathe its lies.
Fight til the death.
Live, we die.
Kill for the need.
Death we love.
It lied.

song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Choriambics

Love, what ailed thee to leave life that was made lovely, we thought, with love?
What sweet visions of sleep lured thee away, down from the light above?

What strange faces of dreams, voices that called, hands that were raised to wave,
Lured or led thee, alas, out of the sun, down to the sunless grave?

Ah, thy luminous eyes! once was their light fed with the fire of day;
Now their shadowy lids cover them close, hush them and hide away.

Ah, thy snow-coloured hands! once were they chains, mighty to bind me fast;
Now no blood in them burns, mindless of love, senseless of passion past.

Ah, thy beautiful hair! so was it once braided for me, for me;
Now for death is it crowned, only for death, lover and lord of thee.

Sweet, the kisses of death set on thy lips, colder are they than mine;
Colder surely than past kisses that love poured for thy lips as wine.

Lov'st thou death? is his face fairer than love's, brighter to look upon?
Seest thou light in his eyes, light by which love's pales and is overshone?

Lo the roses of death, grey as the dust, chiller of leaf than snow!
Why let fall from thy hand love's that were thine, roses that loved thee so?

Large red lilies of love, sceptral and tall, lovely for eyes to see;
Thornless blossom of love, full of the sun, fruits that were reared for thee.

Now death's poppies alone circle thy hair, girdle thy breasts as white;
Bloodless blossoms of death, leaves that have sprung never against the light.

Nay then, sleep if thou wilt; love is content; what should he do to weep?
Sweet was love to thee once; now in thine eyes sweeter than love is sleep.

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Love's winter

The ice was melting the day we met,
Melting somewhere north.
Your eyes be the colour of hope,
But hope was there and then.
And yes you really touched my soul,
Upon the hills so green.
And although me heart is colder still,
You live on in my dream.
So shut my mouth, erase my words,
My fragile mind did do.
And for some time, a short short time,
My life was mended too.
Among those hills i found my love,
I found my missing tune.
And through it all you were there,
You knew the final rune.
That completed the story of my life,
And tied it all to you.
But as we know no love can last,
Against nature's feud.
So the snow and ice of winters past,
Melted into rivers.
And flowing south they stole my love,
So now i cry alone.

poem by Anne Harkonen
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Winter Friend

Once a friend told me of his experience,
That he had loved somebody and in pain,
He had slit his arm and sent the blood to her
And that he was glad that it was over.
He had talked and made love like an expert,
But I had never seen his soul.
And his eyes had a sort of dead smile
As if he wanted me to believe
That he was still alive.
He was a winter friend to me,
We walked in the snow to chinatown for noodles.
That was many years ago, in another life,
Why do I remember it now?
When Id heard his story, Id heard it like a car accident
That I would never be in myself
He was a winter friend to me,
We walked in the snow to chinatown to noodle.
La la la la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la la la
La la la la dee la dee la da
Dee la la la
Now that I see my car slipping down the cliff
And Im desperately looking for the brake...
Dont let it happen to me,
Please, dont let it happen to me,
Im not ready to die or live a living death,
Im not ready to die or live a living death,
Im not ready to die...

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hills Of Caroline

I was born in guilford county
Way back up in the pines
Its where I hold the sweetest memories
In the hills of caroline
My daddy wasnt much of nothin
Spent his life doin time
But mama learned me about jesus
In the hills of caroline
I met a girl her name was hattie
Fair and tender, sweet and kind
She showed me how to love a woman
In the hills of caroline
I always thought that we would marry
One sweet day she would be mine
But hatties gone, to live with jesus
In the hills of caroline
If I should die before tomorrow
Just one request if you dont mind
Just bury me right next to hattie
In the hills of caroline
Bury me right next to hattie
In the hills of caroline

song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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