Best Song Poems

I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling fingertips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
...

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
...

I shall not sing a May song.
A May song should be gay.
I'll wait until November
And sing a song of gray.
...

I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men.
...

And a poet said, 'Speak to us of Beauty.'

Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?
...

I MADE my song a coat
Covered with embroideries
Out of old mythologies
...

Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,
She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,
She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream.
...

Making the best of what we had
Was our first deal. Pity it was not
Enough. Just a
Pre-destined route.
...

I

My fairest child, I have no song to give you;
No lark could pipe to skies so dull and grey:
...

ATTEND my lays, ye ever honour'd nine,
Assist my labours, and my strains refine;
In smoothest numbers pour the notes along,
For bright Aurora now demands my song.
...

This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistible:
...

Birdsong brings relief
to my longing
I'm just as ecstatic as they are,
but with nothing to say!
...

I hid my heart in a nest of roses,
Out of the sun's way, hidden apart;
In a softer bed than the soft white snow's is,
Under the roses I hid my heart.
...

I take my dreams and make of them a bronze vase
and a round fountain with a beautiful statue in its center.
And a song with a broken heart and I ask you:
...

Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day
...

Oh the sisters of mercy, they are not departed or gone.
They were waiting for me when I thought that I just can't go on.
...

He would declare and could himself believe
That the birds there in all the garden round
From having heard the daylong voice of Eve
Had added to their own an oversound,
...

The mother will not turn, who thinks she hears
Her nursling's speech first grow articulate;
But breathless with averted eyes elate
She sits, with open lips and open ears,
...

I saw you toss the kites on high
And blow the birds about the sky;
And all around I heard you pass,
Like ladies' skirts across the grass--
...

A song of Enchantment I sang me there,
In a green-green wood, by waters fair,
Just as the words came up to me
I sang it under the wild wood tree.
...

Before man to blow to right
The wind once blew itself untaught,
And did its loudest day and night
In any rough place where it caught.
...

Then an old man, a keeper of an inn, said, "Speak to us of Eating and Drinking."

And he said:
...

The kings they came from out the south,
All dressed in ermine fine;
They bore Him gold and chrysoprase,
And gifts of precious wine.
...

A SONG of the good green grass!
A song no more of the city streets;
A song of farms--a song of the soil of fields.
...

My heart is heavy with many a song
Like ripe fruit bearing down the tree,
But I can never give you one --
My songs do not belong to me.
...

There you were a sight to behold,
quietly sleeping, in shimmering folds.
No heart to disturb your precious rest,
I left you lying there in a faded red dress.
...

In the depth of my soul there is
A wordless song - a song that lives
In the seed of my heart.
It refuses to melt with ink on
...

Sojourn, efficacy entrapped within the boundaries
Choreographing the dances of life, like calligraphies

The strokes, beckoned a second look
...

So many people have sung so many songs
On and from earth to heaven
but they have not sung me
I am the song
...

I see a light
A light through your heart
The special heart glows in the dark
Warm me with your melodious heartbeat tonight
...

Kasinath the new young singer fills the hall with sound:
The seven notes dance in his throat like seven tame birds.
His voice is a sharp sword slicing and thrusting everywhere,
It darts like lightening - no knowing where it will go when.
...

...

This is a song for the genius child.
Sing it softly, for the song is wild.
Sing it softly as ever you can -
Lest the song get out of hand.
...

Is this a holy thing to see.
In a rich and fruitful land.
Babes reduced to misery.
Fed with cold and usurous hand?
...

A hater he came and sat by a ditch,
And he took an old cracked lute;
And he sang a song which was more of a screech
...

Piping down the valleys wild
Piping songs of pleasant glee
On a cloud I saw a child.
And he laughing said to me.
...

1763

Fame is a bee.
It has a song—
...

Was there even a cause too lost,
Ever a cause that was lost too long,
...

Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:
...

Sombre the night is.
And though we have our lives, we know
What sinister threat lies there.
...

By June our brook's run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
...

...

Piping down the valleys wild,
Piping songs of pleasant glee,
On a cloud I saw a child,
And he laughing said to me:
...

This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like
the fond arms of love.
This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of
blessing.
...

The sky is dark and the hills are white
As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night,
And this is the song the storm-king sings,
As over the world his cloak he flings:
...

A little while when I am gone
My life will live in music after me,
As spun foam lifted and borne on
After the wave is lost in the full sea.
...

Often I think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town,
...

Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,
Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing:
And, pressing a troop unable to stoop
...

AH! dear one, we were young so long,
It seemed that youth would never go,
For skies and trees were ever in song
And water in singing flow
...

I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling finger-tips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
...

Nights like this are
Lonesome and Long
Wish you were here
To sing me a song.
...

An old man in a lodge within a park;
The chamber walls depicted all around
With portraitures of huntsman, hawk, and hound,
And the hurt deer. He listeneth to the lark,
...

I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling finger-tips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.
...

SWEETHEART, do not love too long:
I loved long and long,
And grew to be out of fashion
Like an old song.
...

Part One


As night fell and the light glittered in the great house, the servants stood at the massive door awaiting the coming of the guests; and upon their velvet garments shown golden buttons.
...

I WILL make you brooches and toys for your delight
Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night.
I will make a palace fit for you and me,
Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.
...

"Sleep, weary ones, while ye may --
Sleep, oh, sleep!"
Eugene Field.

...

Fear ye not the stormy future, for the Battle Hymn is strong,
And the armies of Australia shall not march without a song;
The glorious words and music of Australia's song shall come
When her true hearts rush together at the beating of a drum.
...

My scholar friend keeps his late Grandma's diary
And a certain page was highlighted in the color of yellow.
My old ferryman you never realized that how I deeply loved you?
Since in the cradle the word 'depth' I heard several occasions from my parents.
...

Pour O pour that parting soul in song
O pour it in the sawdust glow of night
Into the velvet pine-smoke air tonight,
And let the valley carry it along.
...

GOD guard me from those thoughts men think
In the mind alone;
He that sings a lasting song
Thinks in a marrow-bone;
...

He. Dear, I must be gone
While night Shuts the eyes
Of the household spies;
That song announces dawn.
...

No more my little song comes back;
And now of nights I lay
My head on down, to watch the black
And wait the unfailing gray.
...

Wearily, drearily,
Half the day long,
Flap the great banners
High over the stone;
...

Birds' love and birds' song
Flying here and there,
Birds' songand birds' love
And you with gold for hair!
...

What do I owe to you
Who loved me deep and long?
You never gave my spirit wings
Or gave my heart a song.
...

O Nightingale! thou surely art
A creature of a "fiery heart":--
These notes of thine--they pierce and pierce;
Tumultuous harmony and fierce!
...

'Make a song, father, a new little song,
All for Jenny and Nancy.'
Balow lalow or Hey derry down,
Or else what might you fancy?
...

WHen first Alexis did in Verse delight,
His Muse in Low, but Graceful Numbers walk't,
And now and then a little Proudly stalk't;
But never aim'd at any noble Flight:
...

as a bird on the streets
i had a natural song
which came right from my heart
in my voice
...

Men went happily to death
But they were not the men
Who marched
For years
...

Draw a crazy picture,
Write a nutty poem,
Sing a mumble-grumble song,
Whistle through your comb.
...

My fairest child, I have no song to give you;
No lark could pipe in skies so dull and gray;
Yet, if you will, one quiet hint I'll leave you,
For every day.
...

Though the world keeps changing its form
as fast as a cloud, still
what is accomplished falls home
to the Primeval.
...

O sing a new song, to our God above,
Avoid profane ones, 'tis for holy choir:
Let Israel sing song of holy love
To him that made them, with their hearts on fire:
...

Dear Harp of my Country! in darkness I found thee,
The cold chain of Silence had hung o'er thee long.
When proudly, my own Island Harp, I unbound thee,
And gave all thy chords to light, freedom, and song.
...

Music is an art of combining vocal sounds,
It is combination of instrumental sounds those bounds.
It bounds the harmonious sounds of many,
In an expressive way it pleases, removes agony.
...

WHAT have I done for you,
   England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
   England, my own?
...

In the thicket's shade
a woman by herself
singing the rice-planting song.
...

A song of the setting sun!
The sky in the west is red,
And the day is all but done;
While yonder up overhead,
...

I went out alone
To sing a song or two,
My fancy on a man,
And you know who.
...

The Mountains
A land of sombre, silent hills, where mountain cattle go
By twisted tracks, on sidelings deep, where giant gum trees grow
And the wind replies, in the river oaks, to the song of the stream below.
...

in my last birth
i was all in all
a tagore...a bharathi
all in me...an all in all POET
...

a song I never knew
has now become the song I can never forget
it is the song that can cure all
for I sit and listen to that song everyday
...

I am not a danseuse but a dance,
I am not a singer but a song,
I am not a poetess but a poem,
I am not an artiste but an art!
...

Before I leave the stage
I will sing the only song
I was meant truly to sing.
...

My hands the Hook thunder hangs its hat on,
My breast the Arroyo storms fill with water,
My brow the Horizon sunrise fills,
My heart the Dawn weaving blue threads of day,
...

Go, dumb-born book,
Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes:
Hadst thou but song
As thou hast subjects known,
...

The song of heart - no 3


- -Mystic song- -
...

Before the Lord we bow, the God Who reigns above,
And rules the world below, boundless in power and love.
Our thanks we bring in joy and praise, our hearts we raise
To Heaven's high King.
...

What is the song the stars sing?
(And a million songs are as song of one)
This is the song the stars sing:
(Sweeter song's none)
...

In solitude I remain
With absolutely nothing to gain
Perhaps in time I will be strong
You see! Solitude is not my favourite song
...

Do you tell me to set my roots into air?
Tell me, where had the procession of trees ever
Raised the slogan of storm and seized the blue sky
With their palms, being isolated from the soil?
...

O leave your hand where it lies cool
Upon the eyes whose lids are hot:
Its rosy shade is bountiful
Of silence, and assuages thought.
...

If I were to write a song for you
it would I think... be written in my tears.
For the love I feel is Oh so deep
It has now been... for many a year.
...

...

A sweet high treble threads its silvery song,
Voice of the restless aspen, fine and thin
It trills its pure soprano, light and long-
Like the vibretto of a mandolin.
...

From the German of Herder.



...

Wearily, drearily,
Half the day long,
Flap the great banners
High over the stone;
...

Hands cling to hands and eyes linger
on eyes: thus begins the record of our
hearts.
It is the moonlit night of March;
...