Quotes about fickle, page 13
A Fragment
Should fickle hands in far-off days
No longer stroke thy hair,
And lips that once were proud to praise
Forget to call thee fair,
Sigh but my name, and though I be
Mute in the churchyard mould,
I will arise and come to thee,
And worship as of old.
And should I meet the wrinkled brow,
Or find the silver tress,
What were't to me, it would be thou,
I could not love thee less.
'Gainst love time wages bootless strife,
What now is would be then;
The cry that brought me back to life
Would make thee young again.
poem by Alfred Austin
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Inerasable
Inerasable
I wrote love letters in the sand.
Incoming waves washed them away
The fickle sea can’t understand.
That sometimes love is here to stay.
This is a price I gladly pay.
I place myself at your command
stay by your side and come what may
We’ll face the future hand in hand.
My love is wise makes no demands
she is far wiser than the sea.
Instinctively she understands
I offer love and loyalty.
The words the sea has was washed away
I etched upon her heart today
[...] Read more
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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A Fickle Mistress
Poetry...
She lures us in,
As if with her beguiling grin
She captures hearts inclined to sin
Poetry...
That lady fair
Displays a most defiant glare
When we attempt to leave her lair
Poetry...
Makes us drunk with glee
But, she will never set us free
From that which we desire, but can never be
Poetry...
Entices all
With her soul she does call
To those that she may soon enthral
[...] Read more
poem by Dee Daffodil
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A Lady's Choice
Her old love in tears and silence had been building her a palace
Ringed by moats and flanked with towers, he had set it on a hill
'Here,' he said, 'will come no whisper of the world's alarms and malice,
In these granite walls imprisoned, I will keep you safe from ill'
As he spoke along the highway there came riding by a stranger,
For an instant on her features, he a fleeting glance bestowed,
Then he said: 'My heart is fickle and the world is full of danger,'
And he offered her his stirrup and he pointed down the road.
poem by Alice Duer Miller
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Pied Beauty
Glory be to God for dappled things --
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
Landscape plotted |&| pieced -- fold, fallow, |&| plough;
And {'a}ll trades, their gear |&| tackle |&| trim.
All things counter, original, sp{'a}re, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckl{`e}d, (who knows how?)
With sw{'i}ft, sl{'o}w; sweet, s{'o}ur; ad{'a}zzle, d{'i}m;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is p{'a}st change:
Pr{'a}ise h{'i}m.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
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Sheer Stupidity
Solitude scratches as an aggravating child within my walls
I did not invite her with opened arms, beckon
Nor call....
She arrived as silently as she once left
Within the words of human comfort
Of fickle breath
And woe is me, my sheer stupidity
That i at my time in life should be taken by the hand
Feeble unguarded
Back to the land of pain
The world i swore i would ne-er return
Again
But i dropped my guard so some small shard
Could surreptitiously remove my core
And spit pon the muddied grass
Who am i to want more?
poem by Karen Sinclair
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Sonnet VI
Tomicki, if they'd not chide him
Who lights a praising lamp to Light
Praised, sacred and boundless Itself,
Whence every light's glow doth stem,
Then by none I'd be called fickle
If I sing virtue's beauty in thee
That's enlightened all. But learned,
Water I've sipped little, so daren't try.
Take well my wish, God marks it so;
Should the Muses tho with my lack comply,
Thy pluck, firm'ty, wisdom and manners,
Which thy state (high itself) far excede,
Shall for my verse sport unending
Be. What? True glory they'd be!
poem by Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski
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To Youth
O YOUTH, sweet comrade Youth, wouldst thou be gone?
Long have we dwelt together, thou and I;
Together drunk of many an alien dawn,
And plucked the fruit of many an alien sky.
Ah, fickle friend, must I, who yesterday
Dreamed forwards to long, undimmed ecstasy,
Henceforward dream, because thou wilt not stay,
Backward to transient pleasure and to thee?
I give thee back thy false, ephemeral vow;
But, O beloved comrade, ere we part,
Upon my mournful eyelids and my brow
Kiss me who hold thine image in my heart.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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O God, Where Would Be My Resting Place..?
i could see billions upon billions of stars
scattered thick on the deeps of high heavens
puzzling thoughts and even imagination-
creation's might stuns me speechless;
i stand far far far below as a worthless speck
wondering who the god might be
that created mammoth spheres of flaming lights
condescending to build my fickle frame
with intricate knots and bends and rivers of blood
and keeping a trillion mysteries inside me-
o god, where would be my place of rest after death
amongst the infinite stars in remotest space?
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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To An Orphan Child
Ah, child, thou art but half thy darling mother’s;
Hers couldst thou wholly be,
My light in thee would outglow all in others;
She would relive to me.
But niggard Nature’s trick of birth
Bars, lest she overjoy,
Renewal of the loved on earth
Save with alloy.
The Dame has no regard, alas, my maiden,
For love and loss like mine—
No sympathy with mind-sight memory-laden;
Only with fickle eyne.
To her mechanic artistry
My dreams are all unknown,
And why I wish that thou couldst be
But One’s alone!
poem by Thomas Hardy
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