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You Gotta Fight (For What You Want)

Little girl in these changing times
You got to move on or left behind
Every day is a battle again
And the state of future looks so damned
... ... allright
And if you get it right
...
...
...
Well you just got to fight for what you want
You got to fight for what you want 2x
For what you want
...
Every guide (or better guy? ) leaves you so confused
... which way to turn
...
Oh yeah ...
All night ...
... ... with that stone
Remember that
You got to fight for what you want 3x
For what you want
...
Got to fight for what you want
You got to fight for what you want

song performed by Bruce SpringsteenReport problemRelated quotes
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You Gotta Fight

Little girl in these changing times
You got to move on or left behind
Every day is a battle again
And the state of future looks so damned
... ... allright
And if you get it right
...
...
...
Well you just got to fight for what you want
You got to fight for what you want 2x
For what you want
...
Every guide (or better 'guy'?) leaves you so confused
... which way to turn
...
Oh yeah ...
All night ...
... ... with that stone
Remember that
You got to fight for what you want 3x
For what you want
...
Got to fight for what you want
You got to fight for what you want

song performed by Bruce SpringsteenReport problemRelated quotes
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O’Grady’s Little Girl

Her hair was dark and curly, floatin’ to the saddle bow,
Her laugh was frank and girlish, and her voice was sweet and low;
When I was one-and-twenty, sure my heart was in a whirl,
Ridin’ neath the blossomed gum-trees with O’Grady’s little girl.

And ah! The dear grey eyes of her all truth and purity
What a beacon-light to goodness, such a colleen’s eyes can be!
The blazed a track to Heaven for me an’ it struck me like a blow
When O’Grady left the township, just twenty years ago.

In those years I’ve grown and prospered-sure the township’s half me own-
But my heart’s been empty-aching-since she left me all alone.
Now we’ve got a “Back-to-She-Oak’ week, celebratin’ royally,
And Nora’s coming home again, to join the revelry.

I’ll know her by here wild-rose face, her floatin’ curling hair,
By the neat black skirt and frilly blouse she always loved to wear,
I’ve never looked at wimmin since, but at the township ball
I’ll tell her all my faithful love-my hopes, and dreams and all.

Oh! the band is playing gaily, but alone I sit apart,
Watching all the merry dancers, with a sore and aching heart;
Gaily old friends greet each other, but my head is in a whirl,
As I watcher her twirling past me-Dan O’Grady’s little girl.

She’s grown stout-she’s got a shingle-and her skirt’s just on her knee
Sure the girl that I remember’s not the girl she used to be,
And the merry lilting music ringing out into the night,
Seems to mock my dying fancies and my dream of lost delight.

Now the band is playing softly-‘tis the waltz we used to know,
And I’ll have to ask her for it, for the sake of long ago,
But ah! The dear grey eyes of her, uplifted now to me,
And the unchanged heart beneath them, full of truth and purity.

‘Tis a woman’s heart that matters, fashions come and fashions go,
And what signifies a shingle, for a shingle sure can grow,
All my lonely years are over, I’m as happy as an earl,
Looking forward to the future with O’Grady’s little girl.

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Lonely Little Girl

Lonely little girl, sitting all alone,
Crying tears of sorrow because she's on her own,
Nobody believes her, the trust is now all gone,
Because she has no friends, or someone she could lean on,

Lonely little girl, she just needs a friend,
To tell her she'll be ok, to make her sorrow end,
To tell her its not her fault, and her broken heart will mend,
And there was nothing she could do, because this war she could not win,

Lonely little girl, forced into woman hood,
Promised he'd treat her right, promised he'd treat her good,
Then lift his hands and hit her, because he knew he could,
Wouldn't fight him back, although she knew she should,

Lonely little girl, cries about it every day,
The way he forced her down, and made him have his way,
The painful penetration, while on the ground she lay,
The whisper 'I love you', after my innonece he took away,

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Little-Girl-Two-Little-Girls

I'm twins, I guess, 'cause my Ma say
I'm two little girls. An' one o' me
Is _Good_ little girl; an' th'other 'n' she
Is _Bad little girl as she can be!_
An' Ma say so, 'most ever' day.

An' she's the _funniest_ Ma! 'Cause when
My Doll won't mind, an' I ist cry,
W'y, nen my Ma she sob an' sigh,
An' say, 'Dear _Good_ little girl, good-bye!--
_Bad_ little girl's comed here again!'

Last time 'at Ma act' thataway,
I cried all to myse'f awhile
Out on the steps, an' nen I smile,
An' git my Doll all fix' in style,
An' go in where Ma's at, an' say:
_'Morning to you, Mommy dear_!
_Where's that Bad little girl wuz here_?
_Bad little girl's goned clean away_,
_An' Good little girl's comed back to stay.'_

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Little girl! ! ! (please read my poems i want to know what u all think)

Little girl don't you cry, everything will be ok
Little girl please just listen to what i have got to say
Little girl make a wish, sit back, watch the stars and pray
Little girl some one will soon come along to help you guide your way

Little girl just relax and go and play
Little girl someone will be there to brighten up your day
Little girl your still young you have plenty of time
Little girl just talk to me then you'll be fine
Little girl im not a perfessional but il try my very best
Little girl i just dont like to see you in this horrible mess

Little girl take my hand, be happy don't be blue
Little girl im sorry to say but it was not true
Little girl dont you look for love, let it come and find you
Little girl you will just have to wait theres nothing else you can do
Little girl please stop sobbing, because you made a mistake
Little girl just remember its an easy thing to make
Little girl you got to beleive that is true
Little girl nobodys perfect not even you
Little girl your so special in your own little way
Little girl don't listen to what anyone else as got to say

Little girl i know it's hard, but please don't you give in
Little girl please be strong, dont ever let him win

Little girl you're not alone, that will always be true
Little girl so young and sweet, I'll always be hear for you

Little girl close your eyes and try and let the past go
Little girl if you dont give it a shot you will never know.

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Just A Little Girl

Sometimes I feel you're not listening
Sometimes I feel you don't understand
But I think I've got the answer
Already know what you're gonna say

and#8216;Cause I'm just a little girl you see
But there's a hell of a lot more to me
Don't ever underestimate what I can do
Don't ever tell me how I'm meant to be

You say I'm just a little girl

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You're Lost Little Girl

You're lost little girl
You're lost little girl
You're lost
Tell me who
Are you?
I think that you know what to do
Impossible? Yes, but it's true
I think that you know what to do, yeah
I'm sure that you know what to do
You're lost little girl
You're lost little girl
You're lost
Tell me who
Are you?
I think that you know what to do
Impossible? Yes, but it's true
I think that you know what to do, girl
I'm sure that you know what to do
You're lost little girl
You're lost little girl
You're lost

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I Want A Little Girl

By murray mencher & billy moll
I want a little girl, call my own.
She must be someone whos all alone now.
Say, I want a little girl to fall in love with me, oh yeah.
I want a little girl, but she may not look
Just like a picture in a story book.
If she can cook chicken, yeah, shell suit me to a t.
And she dont have to wave her hair
Or even wear fancy clothes, I wouldnt even care.
She dont wear nylon hose, oh.
I want a little girl to love a lot.
You know that Id give her everything I got.
I want a little girl to fall in love with me.

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You Were Never A Little Girl

Your world is fragile glass
Every day breaking like bones
Against the heartless pavement
Of this dingy city where dreams disappear
In the blink of an eye
Like a thousand species
Growing extinct
In the dying rainforest.

Divorce and disintegrating family life
Stole from you a happy childhood
With the malicious hands
Of a marauding thief,
You were never a little girl.

Next time I see you
Stranded on some dirty street
In the hopeless dawn
With no fuel in your tank
To get back home,
Take my twenty free,
I won’t bother you for sex.

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Just a little girl

You subjected her to a night of hell
Hey! Did you know?
She was just a little girl

You took her to a run down motel
Hey! Did you know?
She was just a little girl

Now you hold her crying soul to sell
Hey! Did you know?
She was just a little girl

When you forced her out of her shell
Hey! Did you know?
She was just a little girl

Couldn’t you tell by her face?
She had the smile of an angel
A virgin waiting for wedding bells

Hey! Did you know?
You are not well?
The only place you belong is a cell
With horrifying smells!

Hey! Did you know?
She is no more a little girl, they yell

Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi

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An odd little girl (for Karen)

I am a funny little girl
with little piggy eyes.
I have a rounded tummy
and rather rotund thighs
In my heart I'm beautiful
if only you would see
but no one ever looks inside
to find the real, true me.

I sit here by my desk at school
with no friend by my side
I'd love someone to talk to
but they all mock and chide.
One day they'll want to know me
some day when I am grown
but for now I'll be content
to sit here on my own.

I'm a funny little girl
with freckles and a grin.
I'm really fun to play with
but not too good at gym.
I love to cuddle puppies
and help folk with their chores
and if you'd only talk to me
I'd tell you lots, lots more.

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That Little Girl Inside A Woman

Dear woman listen clearly
You give your heart so free
You look for love and desire
Yet your heart does not succeed
Often you tell yourself lies
Thinking this is the one for you
How you act like a child
Only to cry the night through
The little girl inside the woman
You want to be held and adored
Protected with a gentle kiss
Captured by your thoughts
Still you want more than this
The fickled ways and wild eyes
Undecided you will hesitate
Running like a confused child
Hopeing that it's not too late
The little girl inside the woman
You are stronger than you think
But that doesn't suit your needs
Protection makes you comfortable
But tell me does it all please
I can't understand this game
Surely one day you will see
That love starts with yourself
And that my kind woman believe

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A Little Girl's Lullaby

I sit down in the chair and quietly weep
As you tell me that I don't mean a thing
You remind me of all my many flaws
But fail to mention you are the cause

I sit alone in my room desperate for the sound
For the words that I know, will never come out
I thrash and flail and scream and shout
But never once did you ease my doubt

No you made it worse, you twisted the knife
Deeper and deeper into my insides
Until I'm bleeding nothing but sorrow and grief
How could you do that? How could you do that to me?

In the end all I wanted was for you to say I love you
But in the end all I got was I wish I didn't have you

You abused me and used me and then left me
You took everything I loved and made it yours
The bruises and bumps never really go away
They only sink into my heart, and that's where they stay

I don't think I mean a thing
Not a single thing in the world
So that mom, is why I cringe, when you call me your little girl

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For a Naughty Little Girl

My sweet little girl should be cheerful and mild
She must not be fretful and cry!
Oh! why is this passion? remember, my child,
GOD sees you, who lives in the sky.

That dear little face, that I like so to kiss,
How alter'd and sad it appears!
Do you think I can love you so naughty as this,
Or kiss you, all wetted with tears?

Remember, though GOD is in Heaven, my love,
He sees you within and without,
And always looks down, from His glory above,
To notice what you are about.

If I am not with you, or if it be dark,
And nobody is in the way,
His eye is as able your doings to mark,
In the night as it is in the day.

Then dry up your tears and look smiling again,
And never do things that are wrong;
For I'm sure you must feel it a terrible pain,
To be naughty and crying so long.

We'll pray, then, that GOD may your passion forgive,
And teach you from evil to fly;
And then you'll be happy as long as you live,
And happy whenever you die.

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Which Way Are You Goin'

Which way are you going, which side will you be on
Will you stand and watch while, all the seeds of hate are sown
Will you stand with those who say, let his will be done
One hand on the bible
One hand on the gun
One hand on the bible
One hand on the gun
Which way are you looking, is it hard to see
Do you say whats wrong for him, is not wrong for me
You walk the streets, righteousness but you refuse to understand
You say you love the baby
Then you crucify the man
You say you love the baby
Then you crucify the man
Everyday, things are changing, words once honored turned to lies
People wondering, can you blame them
Its to far to run, and to late to hide
Now you turn your back on, all the things that you used to preach
Now its let him live in freedom, if he lives like me
Well you light has changed, confusion rains, what have you become
All your olive branches turned to spears
When your flowers turned to guns
Your olive branches turned to spears
When your flowers turned to guns

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Little Girl Lost

See the little girl lost: walking through this world alone
She aint looking for a lover, shes just looking for a home
If you want more than sympathy then look for something else
Cause shes not true to anyone, not even to herself
Shell have sixteen smiling strangers who are handing her a line
While shes drawing dirty pictures on the black side of your mind
And that body shell let anybody hold, but the devils got her soul
But if you take her, take her easy
Treat her gentle, she used to love me
See the little girl lost, pleading silently for help
Knowing no one understands her, she dont understand herself
Shell feed your hungry ego til you think youre quite a man
But you better count your fingers when she turns loose of your hand
Cause youre just a game shes playing any way that she can win
And you aint about to touch her any deeper than her skin
In that body anybody can control, but the devils got her soul
But if you take her, take her easy
Treat her gentle, she used to love me

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Searching For That Little Girl

As I looked - she was walking away
Not a word did she say.
There was no -” I’m sorry for doing you wrong”.
But that drug impulse was mighty strong.
I was having withdrawal pains
And of that I’m not ashamed.

You said to a rehab you would go
But that day you didn’t show.
The drugs may ease the pain
But your life will never be the same.

You started off smoking grass
But that high didn’t last.
Next you started snorting cocaine
And after a while that was lame.

Then you decided to go to crack
And after that there was no turning back.
You started stealing from family and friends
This was the beginning - there was no end.

Now you’re selling your body on the street
Just so you could get that treat.

Did you ever say to yourself as a child
“ I want to be a junkie_ that’s my style”.
You dreamt of satin and lace
And walking with purpose - and with grace.

Look for that child that’s buried in your mind
you can do it, it just takes time”.
Don’t do it for me or for family
Do it for that little girl who is
Wandering in your mind
She will be with you till the end of time.

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Mamas Little Girl

(dennis lambert / brian potter)
I took the ribbon from my hair
And Im letting it all hang down
So, if youre lookin for the same old me
Gotta tell you that shes left town
Dont try to call my number, baby
Youre gonna get no reply
cause suddenly Im changin
Im finally rearrangin
In this day of liberation
Im lookin to find my share
Whats the use of being patient?
You aint goin nowhere
I got my own two-step together
And I want the first slow dance with you
I just saw venus risin
Guess Im realisin
I aint mamas little girl no more
And baby, youre the first to know
I aint mamas little girl no more
I took a little time to grow
Its gonna be worth waiting
The anticipating
Im not mamas little baby no more
Well, Ive been everyones best friend
Someone they could tell their troubles to
How come they never noticed me
And the pain that I was going through?
Ive seen the lonely side of living
I never want to go back there again
The sad old me is dyin
Tonight there is no denyin
I aint mamas little girl no more
And baby, youre the first to know
I aint mamas little girl no more
I took a little time to grow
Its gonna be worth waiting
The anticipating
Im not mamas little baby no more
I aint mamas little girl no more
And baby, youre the first, the first to know
I aint mamas little girl no more
I took a little time, a time to grow
Its gonna be worth the waiting
The anticipating
Im not mamas little baby no more, no more
I aint mamas little girl no more
And baby, youre the first, the first to know
I said I aint mamas little girl no, no more
I took a little time, a time to grow
Its gonna be worth the waiting
The anticipating
Im not mamas little baby no more, no more

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Patrick White

These Late Night Sessions With Myself

These late night sessions with myself
that crowd the world out
to make room for me to be alone
delinquently with myself
while the rest of the town sleeps,
barring a cabbie, a cop, the grocery clerk
that works at the all night Mac's Milk.
Can't sleep.
My pillow's a hive of killer bees.
I'm swarmed by the lethal trivia
of high-maintenance anxieties.
The picture-music's running the rapids
in a jazzy clash of high hats
and I was hoping for something like Paul Simon.
The medium waits like a seance
for me to appear
like the message that was summoned.
Something resonates like a wavelength
from a tiny point in space
and calls me home like a Martian rover
though I can't say for sure where I've been
like a shadow at noon
I know the sun shines at midnight
when I'm together enough again
to remember what I've seen.
And when the dawn makes the fieldstones
of the bank across the street
blush with pink
like some shrink's idea of a more quiescent prison,
I'm pinching the wicks of all my feelings
like candles in the morning
just to see if I'm still awake or not.
Between now and then
I'm watching a poem evolve like a chromosome
that's trying to make me up on the go
in a game of snakes and ladders
as one enzyme opens the door to six others
like a Chinese puzzle box
or a Higg's boson particle accelerator
and after awhile I'm looking at the genome
of a mirror image of myself
that refuses to recognize me.
As if a dragonfly
crawled out of the chrysalis of a fortune-cookie
and spread its wings to dry
like a winning lottery ticket
that just went through the laundry
in effusive elations of wind and sky.
One grey thread
of stray cigarette smoke on my shoulder
and I accuse myself of having a love affair
behind my own back
with someone more exciting than I am
when I wasn't looking
and walk out on myself swearing
I'll never trust anyone like me ever again.
Vagaries of unconditioned consciousness
feeling the first continental shudders
of seismic archetypes
slipping their continental plates
like a bad clutch on a fault line
pushing their seabeds up to the surface
to expose what lurks beneath
on the highest slopes of a mountain top
just to call the poker-playing stars' bluff
as they lay their constellations down
like the losing hand of a Japanese fan club.
In the timelessness of this aloof hour
when it feels as if I'm the only one left alive
to know how the town died in its sleep
and there's no one out on the desolate street to tell
no one to call,
awareness is all
as I drift off disembodied into all my past lives
to ask them if they've got any clue
about where I went
and what I've been doing for the last ten years.
I'm a snowman waltzing in an ice storm
under the brittle chandeliers
of the brutal stars of the first of December.
Warm blood in a cold northwest wind
there's a scent of wolf in the ravenous air
and a death panic in the hearts of the rabbits
who risk a nightcrossing of Wilson Street
out in the open under the noses
of the dozy heritage streetlamps.
The ice age perils of Pauline
tormented by Oil Can Harry.
Where does the dream begin
like a myth of origin
that keeps you awake
second-guessing
when the next firefly of insight
is going to appear in your rear-view mirror
as if you were being followed
by the ball lightning
of some great revelation of reality
that promises to return your eyes to you
as soon as it's opened them to what isn't there.
I'm sleepwalking like the Bolshoi Ballet across Swan Lake.
I'm miming the sidereal signage
of blind men with prophetic vision
like a journey man among master seers
with hundreds of billions of stars in their eyes
looking for a planet that's human enough
to cry like this one sitting alone at a desk
for the enormities of starless sadness
that underwhelm the trophies of those
who've lived a life of risk
and were victorious long enough
to be able to squander a living on their own defeat.
Picture this.
A bull elk being run to death
through deep snow,
the cold air slicing its lungs
like frozen strawberries,
turning to face a wolfpack
rack to fang
to wound them into
respecting their noblest prey
with a last act
of self-destructive defiance,
incite a little wolf fear
in those who fear none
to return the compliment
water to water
blood to blood
heart to heart
as if all parties realized
from the very start
it doesn't mean much
but it accounts for everything
and that's the way it's supposed to go down.

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Love: To A Little Girl

When we all lie still
Where churchyard pines their funeral vigil keep,
Thou shalt rise up early
While the dews are deep;
Thee the earliest bird shall rouse
From thy maiden sleep,
Thy white bed in the old house
Where we all, in our day,
Lived and loved so cheerly.
And thou shalt take thy way
Where the nodding daffodil
Tells thee he is near;
Where the lark above the corn
Sings him to thine ear;
Where thine own oak, fondly grim,
Points to more than thou canst spy;
And the beckoning beechen spray
Beckons, beckons thee to him,
Thee to him and him to thee;
Him to thee, who, coy and slow,
Stealest through dim paths untrod
Step by step, with doubtful glance,
Taking witness quick and shy
Of each bud and herb and tree
If thou doest well or no.
Haste thee, haste thee, slow and coy!
What! art doubting still, though even
The white tree that shakes with fear
When no other dreams of ill,
The girl-tree whom best thou knowest,
Waves the garlands of her joy,
And, by something more than chance,
Of all paths in one path only
The primroses where thou goest
Thicken to thy feet, as though
Thou already wert in heaven
And walking in the galaxy.
Do those stars no longer glisten
To thy steps, ah! shivering maid,
That, where upper light doth fade
At yon gnarled and twisted gate,
Thou dost pause and tremble and so,
Listening stir, and stirring listen?
Not a blossom will illume
That chill grove of cambering yew
Wherein Night seems to vegetate,
And, through bats and owls, a dew
Of darkness fills the mortal gloom.
Haste thee, haste thee, gaze not back!
Of all hours since thou wert born,
Now thou may'st not look forlorn;
Though the blackening grove is dread,
Shall he plead in vain who pled
'To-morrow?' Through the tree-gloom lonely
One more shudder, and the track
Softens: this is upland sod,
Thou canst smell the mountain air,
What was heavy overhead
Lightens, the black whitens, the white brightens!
Ah, dear and fair,
Lo the dazzling east, and lo,
Someone tall against the sky
Coming. coming, like a god,
In the rising morn!
And when the lengthening days whose light we never saw
Have melted his sweet awe,
And thy fond fear is like a little hare,
Large-eyed and passionately afraid,
That peepeth from the covert of her rest
Into the narrow glade
Between two woods, and doth a moment dare
The sunshine, and leap back; yet forth will fare
Again, and each time ventures further from the nest,
Till, having past the midst ere she be 'ware,
Bold with fear to be so much confest
She flees across the sun into the other shade;
Flees as thou that didst so coyly draw
Near him and nearer, and art trembling there
Midway 'twixt giving all and nought,
In a moment, at a thought,
Bashful to panic, hidest on his breast;
Once again beneath the hill
Where round our graves these funeral pines refuse
The clamorous morning, thou shalt rise up early
When we all lie still.
Thou shalt rise up early while
Down the chimney, ample and deep,
Dreaming swallows gurgle, and shrill
In window-nook the mossy wren
Chirps an answer cheerly,
Chirps and sinks to sleep.
In the crossed and corbelled bay
Of that ivied oriel, thou
Lovest at morn and eve to muse;
But this once thou shalt not stay
To mark the forming earth. and how
Far and near, in equal grey
Of growing dawn, thy well-known land
Now to the strained gaze appears
The nebulous umbrage of itself, and now,
Ere one can say this or this,
Divides upon the sense into the world that is,
As the slow suffusion that doth fill
Tender eyes with soft uncertainties,
Suddenly, we know not when,
Shapes to tears we understand;
Such tears as blind thy eyes with light,
When thou shalt rise up, white from white,
In thy virgin bed
On that morn, and, by and by,
In thy bloom of maidenhead
Beam softly o'er the shadowy floor,
And softly down the ancient stairs,
And softly through the ancestral door,
And o'er the meadow by the house
Where thy small feet shall not rouse
From the grass those unrisen pray'rs,
The skylarks, though thy passing smile
Shall touch away the dews.
And thou shalt take thy way,
Ah whither? Where is the dear tryst to-day?
Trembler, doth he wait for thee
By the ash or the beech-tree?
With the lightest earliest breeze
The dodder in the hedge is quaking,
But the mighty ash is still a-slumber;
All its tender multiplicity
Drooped with a common sleep, by twos and threes,
That triple into companies,
Which, in turn, do multiply
Each by each into an all
So various, so symmetrical,
That the membered trunk on high
Lifts a colour'd cloud that seems
The numberless result of number.
Now still as thy still sleep, soft as thy dreams,
They slumber; but when morning bids
The world awake, the giant sleeper, waking,
Shall lift at once his shapely myriads up,
As thou at once upliftest thy two lids.
Ah, guileless eyes, from whom those lids unclose;
Ah, happy, happy eyes! if morning's beams
Awake the trees, how can they sleep in yours?
Look up and see them start from their repose!
Yet nay, I think thou wouldst forbid them hear
What some one comes this morn to say;
Therefore, sweet eyes, shine only on the ground,
Nor venture to look round,
Lest thou behold how subtly the flow'rs sigh
Among the whispering grasses tall,
And see thy secret pale the lily's cheeks,
Or redden on the daisy's lips,
Or tremble in the tremulous tear
Wherewith the warmer light of day fulfils
That frigid beauty of the wort whose stars
Look, thro' the summer darkness, like the scars
Of those lunar arrows shot
From the white string of that silver bow
Wherewith, as we all wot,
Because it was a keepsake of her Greek,
Diana shooteth still on every moony night.
What is it, then, that this close buttercup
Is shutting down into a golden shrine?
What hath the wind betrayed to the wind-flow'r,
That, on either side, it so adjures
Thy passing beauty, by such votive hands
Point to point with praying finger-tips?
I know not how such secrets go astray,
Nor how so dear a mystery
Foreslipped the limits of its destined hour;
Perhaps, the mustered spring, in whatsoe'er
Deep cavern of the earth, ere it come here,
It takes the flowery order of the year,
Heard the soft powers speak of this loveliness
That in due season should be done and said,
As if it were a part o' the white and red
Of summer; or perchance some zephyr, willing
To sweeten the stol'n fragrance of a rose,
Caught one of thy breaths, and blew it
To the flow'rs that suck the evening air,
And in it some unspoken words of thine
Went thro' the floral beauty, and somewhere
Therein came to themselves, and made the fields aware.
Thus, or not thus, surely the cowslips knew it;
Else wherefore did they press
Their march to this sole day, and long ago
Set their annual dances to it?
This day of all the days that summer yields?
Didst thou not mark how sure and slow
They came upon thee with exact emprise?
First a golden stranger, meek and lone,
Then the vanward of a fairy host
Following the nightingales,
Bashful and bold, in sudden troops and bands,
Takes the willowy depths of all the dales,
And, on unsuspected nights,
Makes vantage-ground of mounts and heights
Till, ere one knew, a south wind blew,
And a fond invasion holds the fields!
Over the shadowy meadowy season, up and down from coast to coast,
A pigmy folk, a yellow-haired people stands,
Stands and hangs its head and smiles!
And art thou conscious that they smile, and why?
That with such palpitating flight
Thou fleest toward the linden-aisles?
Ah, yet a moment pause among
The lime-trees, where, from the rich arches o'er thee,
The nightingale still strews his falling song
As if the trees were shaken and dropt sweetness;
No heed? More speed? Ah, little feet,
Is the ground soaked with music that ye beat
Silver echoes thence, and keep
Such quick time and dainty unison
With the running cadence of the bird
That he hath not heard
A note to fright him or offend,
While down the tell-tale path from end to end
Such a ringing scale has run thro' his retreat?
The limes are past, and ye speed on;
Ah, little feet, so fond, so fleet,
Fleeter than ever-why this fleetness?
Who is this? a start, a cry!
A blind moment of alarms,
And the tryst is in his arms!
Fluttering, fluttering heart, confess
Truly, didst thou never guess
That he would be here before thee?
Didst thou never dream that ere
The last glow-worm 'gan to dim,
Or the dear day-star to burn,
Or the elm-top rooks to talk,
Or the hedge-row nests to threep,
He was waiting for thee here?
Ah! ne'er so fair, ah! ne'er so dear,
For his love's sake pardon him,
Smile on him again, and turn
With him thro' the sweetbrier glade,
With him thro' the woodbine shade;
In the sweetbrier wilderness,
To his side, ah! closer creep,
In the honeysuckle walk
Let him make thee blush and weep,
While the wooing doves, unseen,
Move the air with fond ado,
And, lest the long morning shine
Show you to some vulgar eye,
To ye, passing side by side,
With a grace that copies thine,
Favouring trees their boughs incline;
While, where'er ye wander by,
Hawthorn and sweet eglantine
From among their laughing leaves
Stretch and pluck ye by the sleeves:
And all flow'rs the hedge doth hide
Sigh their fragrance after you;
And sly airs, with soft caresses,
Letting down thy golden tresses,
Marry those dear locks with his;
While from the rose-arch above thee,
Where the bowery gate uncloses,
Budded tendrils, lithe and green,
Loosen on the wind and lean
Each to each, and leaning kiss,
Kiss and redden into roses.
Oh, you Lovers, warm and living!
And ah, our graves, so deep and chill!
As ye stand in upper light
Murmuring love that never dies,
While your happy cheeks are burning,
Will ye feel a distant yearning?
Will a sudden dim surprise
Lift up your happy eyes
From what you are taking and giving,
To where the pines their funeral vigil keep,
And we all lie still?
Love on, plight on, we cannot hear or see.
Oh beautiful and young and happy! ye
Have the rich earth's inheritance.
For you, for you, the music and the dance
That moves and plays for all who need it not,
That moved and played for us, who, thus forgot,
In the dark house where the heart cannot sing
Nor any pulse mete its own joyous measure,
See not the world, nor any pleasant thing;
And ye, in your good time, have come into our pleasure.
Ah, while the time is good, love on, plight on!
Leap from yourselves into the light of gladness!
The light, the light! surely the light is sweet?
And, if descending from those ecstasies,
Ye touch the common earth with wavering feet,
Your life is at your will; whate'er betide,
We shall not check or chide.
The hand is dust that might restrain;
The voice whose warning should distress ye
By any augury of doubt or sadness,
Can never speak again.
The angel that so many woo in vain
Descends, descends! Ah, seize him ere he soar;
Ah, seize him by the skirt or by the wing;
What matter, so that, like the saint of yore,
Ye do not let him hence until he bless ye?
In our youth we had our madness,
In the grave ye may be wise.
Love on, love on, for Love is all in all!
Manners, that make us and are made of us,
Who with the self-will of an infant king
Do fashion them that have our fashioning,
And make the shape of our correction;
Virtue, that fruit whose substance ripens slow,
And in one semblance having past from crude
To sweet, rots slowly in the form of good;
Joy, the involuntary light and glow
Of this electric frame mysterious,
That, radiant from our best activities,
Complexion their fine colours by our own;
And Duty, the sun-flower of knowledge,-these
Change and may change with changing time and place:
But Love is for no planet and no race.
The summer of the heart is late or soon,
The fever in the blood is less or more;
But while the moons of time shall fill and wane,
While there is earth below and heaven above,
Wherever man is true and woman fair,
Through all the circling cycles Love is Love!
And when the stars have flower'd and fall'n away,
And of this earthly ball
A little dust upon eternity
Is all that shall remain,
Love shall be Love: in that transcendent whole
Clear Nature from the swift euthanasy
Of her last change, transfigured, shall arise;
And we, whose wonted eyes
Seek vainly the familiar universe,
Shall feel the living worlds in the immortal soul.
But nor of this,
Nor anything of Love except its bliss,
On that summer morning shalt thou know;
Nor, in that moment's apotheosis
When, like the sudden sun
That, rising round and rayless, bursts in rays,
And is himself and all the heavens in one,
Love in the sun-burst of our own delight
Makes us for an instant infinite,
Owning no first or last, before or after,
Child of Love, shalt thou divine
That, years and years before thy day,
In the little Arcady
And planted Eden of thy line,
On such mornings such a maid
Lived and loved as thou art living and loving,
Through the flowery fields where thou art roving,
And in the favourite bowers and by the wonted ways,
Stepped the morning music with thy grace;
Smiled the sunshine which thou with her face
Smilest; so, with sweeter voice,
Helped the vernal birds rejoice,
Or, when passing envy stayed
Matins green and leafy virilays
Startled her sole self to hear,
Like a scared bird hushed for fear;
Or, more frightened by my passionate praise,
Rippled the golden silence with shy laughter.
Yet I saw her standing there,
While my happy love I made,
Standing in her long fair hair,
And looking (so thou lookest now)
As when beneath an April bough
In an April meadow,
Light is netted into place
By a lesser light of shadow;-
Standing by that tree where he
This morn of thine makes love to thee
Leaning to his half-embrace,
Leaning where, full well I know,
While slow day grows ripe to noon
Thou untired shalt still be leaning,
Still, entranced by Love's beguiling,
Listening, listening, smiling, smiling;
Leaning by the tree-Ah me,
Leaning on the name I cut
In the bark which, while she tarried here,
Chased it with duteous silver year by year;
But from the hour that heard her coffin shut
Blindly closed over the withered meaning,
Till argent vert and verdant argentrie
Encharged each simple letter to a rune.
Ah me, ah me! the very name
To which-another yet the same-
(The same, since all thy loveliness is she,
Another, since thou dost forget me)-
Thou answerest, as she answered me
When on summer morns she met me,
While the dews were deep,-
She whom earliest bird did rouse
From her maiden sleep,
From her bed in the old house,
Her white bed in the old house,-
She whom bird arouseth never
From that sleep upon the hill
Where we all lie still.


For what is, was, will be. Suns rise and set
And rise: year after year, as when we met,
In one brief season the epiphany
Of perfect life is shown, and is withdrawn;
As maidens bloom and die: but Maidenhood for ever
Walks the eternal Spring in everlasting Dawn.

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