Thou Swell
(words by lorenz hart, music by richard rodgers)
This lyrics are like performed by natalie cole
Thou swell, thou witty, thou sweet, thou grand
Wouldst kiss me pretty? wouldst hold my hand?
Both thine eyes are cute too, what they do to me
Hear me holler, I choose a sweet lollapaloosa in thee
Id feel so rich in a hut for two
Two rooms and kitchen Im sure would do
Give me just a plot of, not a lot of land
And thou swell, thou witty, thou grand
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Thou Swell
Thou swell, thou witty, thou sweet, thou grand
Wouldst kiss me pretty? Wouldst hold my hand?
Both thine eyes are cute too, what they do to me
Hear me holler, I choose a sweet lollapaloosa in thee
I'd feel so rich in a hut for two
Two rooms and kitchen I'm sure would do
Give me just a plot of, not a lot of land
And thou swell, thou witty, thou grand
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thou Swell
Thou swell, thou witty, thou sweet, thou grand
Wouldst kiss me pretty? wouldst hold my hand?
Both thine eyes are cute too, what they do to me
Hear me holler, I choose a sweet lollapaloosa in thee
Id feel so rich in a hut for two
Two rooms and kitchen Im sure would do
Give me just a plot of, not a lot of land
And thou swell, thou witty, thou grand
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Mary
If I had thought thou couldst have died,
I might not weep for thee;
But I forgot, when by thy side,
That thou couldst mortal be:
It never through my mind had past
The time would e'er be o'er,
And I on thee should look my last,
And thou shouldst smile no more!
And still upon that face I look,
And think 'twill smile again;
And still the thought I will not brook,
That I must look in vain.
But when I speak—thou dost not say
What thou ne'er left'st unsaid;
And now I feel, as well I may,
Sweet Mary, thou art dead!
If thou wouldst stay, e'en as thou art,
All cold and all serene—
I still might press thy silent heart,
And where thy smiles have been.
While e'en thy chill, bleak corse I have,
Thou seemest still mine own;
But there—I lay thee in thy grave,
And I am now alone!
I do not think, where'er thou art,
Thou hast forgotten me;
And I, perhaps, may soothe this heart
In thinking too of thee:
Yet there was round thee such a dawn
Of light ne'er seen before,
As fancy never could have drawn,
And never can restore!
poem by Charles Wolfe
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Sakontala
WOULDST thou the blossoms of spring, as well as the fruits of the autumn,
Wouldst thou what charms and delights, wouldst thou what plenteously, feeds,
Would thou include both Heaven and earth in one designation,
All that is needed is done, when I Sakontala name.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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In Maximum
WOULDST thou be free? I think it not, indeed;
But if thou wouldst, attend this simple rede:
When quite contented }thou canst dine at home
Thou shall be free when }
And drink a small wine of the march of Rome;
When thou canst see unmoved thy neighbour's plate,
And wear my threadbare toga in the gate;
When thou hast learned to love a small abode,
And not to choose a mistress A LA MODE:
When thus contained and bridled thou shalt be,
Then, Maximus, then first shalt thou be free.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Night Song
WHEN on thy pillow lying,
Half listen, I implore,
And at my lute's soft sighing,
Sleep on! what wouldst thou more?
For at my lute's soft sighing
The stars their blessings pour
On feelings never-dying;
Sleep on! what wouldst thou more?
Those feelings never-dying
My spirit aid to soar
From earthly conflicts trying;
Sleep on! what wouldst thou more?
From earthly conflicts trying
Thou driv'st me to this shore;
Through thee I'm thither flying,--
Sleep on! what wouldst thou more?
Through thee I'm hither flying,
Thou wilt not list before
In slumbers thou art lying:
Sleep on! what wouldst thou more?
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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A Peculiar Ideal
What thou thinkest, belongs to all; what thou feelest, is thine only.
Wouldst thou make him thine own, feel thou the God whom thou thinkest!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Sonnet: On Calumny
Be thou a saint and yet the world won't spare;
Be thou most chaste and yet, most tongues will talk;
Be thou a crook and yet people don't care;
Be thou a tiger yet, some men will stalk.
Be thou cruel and yet the world will praise;
Be thou too kind and yet the world will taunt;
Be thou rigid and yet the world can't face;
Be thou timid and yet the world will haunt;
Be thou selfish and yet the world loves thee;
Be thou selfless and yet the world thee hates;
Be thou goodly and yet you are not free;
Be thou evil and yet the world thee mates.
Be thou yourself and yet the world finds fault;
Be thou anything, yet the world will vault.
poem by John Celes
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Neither This Nor That
IF thou to be a slave shouldst will,
Thou'lt get no pity, but fare ill;
And if a master thou wouldst be,
The world will view it angrily;
And if in status quo thou stay,
That thou art but a fool, they'll say.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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The Key
Wouldst thou know thyself, observe the actions of others.
Wouldst thou other men know, look thou within thine own heart.
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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The Tempted Soul
Weak soul, by sense still led astray,
Why wilt thou parley with the foe?
He seeks to work thine overthrow,
And thou, poor fool! dost point the way.
Hast thou forgotten many a day,
When thou exulting forth didst go,
And ere the noon wert lying low,
A broken and defenceless prey?
If thou wouldst live, avoid his face;
Dwell in the wilderness apart,
And gather force for vanquishing,
Ere thou returnest to his place.
Then arm, and with undaunted heart
Give battle, till he own thee king.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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To The Supreme Being From The Italian Of Michael Angelo
THE prayers I make will then be sweet indeed
If Thou the spirit give by which I pray:
My unassisted heart is barren clay,
That of its native self can nothing feed:
Of good and pious works thou art the seed,
That quickens only where thou say'st it may:
Unless Thou show to us thine own true way
No man can find it: Father! Thou must lead.
Do Thou, then, breathe those thoughts into my mind
By which such virtue may in me be bred
That in thy holy footsteps I may tread;
The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind,
That I may have the power to sing of thee,
And sound thy praises everlastingly.
poem by William Wordsworth
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My Light Thou Art
My light thou art, without thy glorious sight
My eyes are darkened with eternal night;
My Love, thou art my way, my life, my light.
Thou art my way, I wander if thou fly;
Thou art my light, if hid, how blind am I!
Thou art my life, if thou withdraw'st I die.
Thou art my life; if thou but turn away,
My life's a thousand deaths. Thou art my way;
Without thee, Love, I travel not, but stray.
poem by Lord John Wilmot
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O Lord My God! - -Carl Boberg
O Lord my God!
When I in awesome wonder
consider all the worlds
Thy hands have made
I see the stars,
I hear the rolling thunder,
The power throughout the universe displayed
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee;
How great Thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
When through the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur
And hear the brook and feel the geltle breeze;
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee;
How great Thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
And when I think that God, His Son not sparing,
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in; -
That on the cross my burden gladly bearing,
He bled to take away my sin; -
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee;
How great Thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then I shall bow in humble adoration
And there proclaim, My God, How great Thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee;
How great Thou art, how great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
poem by Sangnam Nam
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Laodicea
Hear what the Lord, the great Amen,
The true and faithful Witness says!
He formed the vast creation's plan,
And searches all our hearts and ways.
To some he speaks as once of old,
I know thee, thy profession's vain;
Since thou art neither hot nor cold,
I'll spit thee from me with disdain.
Thou boasteth, I am wise and rich,
Increased in goods and nothing need;
And dost not know thou art a wretch,
Naked and poor, and blind and dead.
Yet while I thus rebuke, I love,
My message is in mercy sent;
That thou may'st my compassion prove,
I can forgive, if thou repent.
Wouldst thou be truly rich and wise?
Come, buy my gold in fire well tried,
My ointment to anoint thine eyes,
My robe, thy nakedness to hide.
See at thy door I stand and knock!
Poor sinner, shall I wait in vain?
Quickly thy stubborn heart unlock,
That I may enter with my train.
Thou canst not entertain a king,
Unworthy thou of such a guest!
But I my own provisions bring,
To make thy soul a heavenly feast.
poem by John Newton
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To Night
Swiftly walk o'er the western wave,
Spirit of Night!
Out of the misty eastern cave,
Where, all the long and lone daylight,
Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,
Which make thee terrible and dear--
Swift be thy flight!
Wrap thy form in a mantle gray,
Star-inwrought!
Blind with thine hair the eyes of day;
Kiss her until she be wearied out,
Then wander o'er city, and sea, and land,
Touching all with thine opiate wand--
Come, long-sought!
When I arose and saw the dawn,
I sighed for thee;
When light rode high, and the dew was gone,
And noon lay heavy on flower and tree,
And the weary day turned to his rest,
Lingering like an unloved guest,
I sighed for thee.
Thy brother Death came, and cried,
Wouldst thou me?
Thy sweet child Sleep, the filmy-eyed,
Murmured like a noontide bee,
Shall I nestle near thy side?
Wouldst thou me?--And I replied,
No, not thee!
Death will come when thou art dead,
Soon, too soon--
Sleep will come when thou art fled;
Of neither would I ask the boon
I ask of thee, beloved Night--
Swift be thine approaching flight,
Come soon, soon!
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Thy Better Self
I AM thy other self, what thou wilt be,
When thou art I, the one seest now;
In finding thy true self thou wilt find me,
The springing blade, where now thou dost but plough.
I am thy neighbor, a new house I've built,
Which thou as yet hast never entered in;
I come to call thee; come in when thou wilt,
The feast is always ready to begin.
Thou should'st love me, as thou dost love thyself,
For I am but another self beside;
To show thee him thou lov'st in better health,
What thou would'st be, when thou to him hast died;
Then visit me, I make thee many a call;
Nor live I near to thee alone, but all.
poem by Jones Very
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Lover In All Shapes
To be like a fish,
Brisk and quick, is my wish;
If thou cam'st with thy line.
Thou wouldst soon make me thine.
To be like a fish,
Brisk and quick, is my wish.
Oh, were I a steed!
Thou wouldst love me indeed.
Oh, were I a car
Fit to bear thee afar!
Oh, were I a steed!
Thou wouldst love me indeed.
I would I were gold
That thy fingers might hold!
If thou boughtest aught then,
I'd return soon again.
I would I were gold
That thy fingers might hold!
I would I were true,
And my sweetheart still new!
To be faithful I'd swear,
And would go away ne'er.
I would I were true,
And my sweetheart still new!
I would I were old,
And wrinkled and cold,
So that if thou said'st No,
I could stand such a blow!
I would I were old,
And wrinkled and cold.
An ape I would be,
Full of mischievous glee;
If aught came to vex thee,
I'd plague and perplex thee.
An ape I would be,
Full of mischievous glee
As a lamb I'd behave,
As a lion be brave,
As a lynx clearly see,
As a fox cunning be.
As a lamb I'd behave,
As a lion be brave.
Whatever I were,
All on thee I'd confer;
With the gifts of a prince
My affection evince.
Whatever I were,
All on thee I'd confer.
As nought diff'rent can make me,
As I am thou must take me!
If I'm not good enough,
Thou must cut thine own stuff.
As nought diff'rent can make me,
As I am thou must take me!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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The Lie Goodbye
When thou wave to me and say Goodbye
Thou wave in me thy sweet memory
And each day I awake, thou say Hi
With each day, I think with ecstasy…
In my heart thou wilt never cease
and there thou be, my happiness and peace
so when thou wave and say Goodbye
thou wave thy soul in me that shall never die
do not fear the words Goodbye
they art words which always lie
for there is no goodbye as long we live
those memories we keep and always give…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Awareness
Conscience
Thou art mystery
Love thy yet
Whisper out loud
Open sim sim
Thou allow one
Knowing the code
Thou feel to open
Thou fly
Thou dance
Thou swim
Thou play
Thou thrive on Truth
Truth nothing but the Truth
Discarding worn coat
In oblivion
Thou merge
With infinity
For the time being.
poem by Tribhawan Kaul
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