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Posts Tagged ‘love’

They followed Him by thousands when he took some fish and bread
And a banquet in the desert by His miracle was spread.
They sang aloud, “Hosanna!” and they shouted, “Praise His name!”
When in an hour of glory to Jerusalem He came.
They followed when He told them of a kingdom and a throne,
But when He went to Calvary, He went there all alone.

It seems that many people still would follow Him today
If He only went to places where everything was gay.
For the kingdom that they’re seeking isn’t one the world scorns.
And the crown of which they’re singing isn’t one that’s made of thorns.
Oh, they’ll follow for the fishes over land and over sea,
And they’ll join the church at Zion, but not at Calvary.

It’s so easy, friends, to follow when the nets are full of fish,
When the loaves are spread before you and you’re eating all you wish.
When no lands, nor lots, nor houses and no friendships are at stake,
When there’s no mob to mock you and you have no cross to take.
But you’ll need some faith to follow down through Gethsemane,
And you’ll need some love to follow up to Calvary!

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My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O my soul is white!
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black, as if bereaved of light.

My mother taught me underneath a tree,
And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And, pointing to the East, began to say:

“Look on the rising sun: there God does live,
And gives His light, and gives His heat away,
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.

“And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love;
And these black bodies and this sunburnt face
Are but a cloud, and like a shady grove.

“For, when our souls have learned the heat to bear,
The cloud will vanish, we shall hear His voice,
Saying, ‘Come out from the grove, my love and care,
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.'”

Thus did my mother say, and kissed me,
And thus I say to little English boy.
When I from black, and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy,

I’ll shade him from the heat till he can bear
To lean in joy upon our Father’s knee;
And then I’ll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him, and he will then love me.

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Links to analysis:

http://www.sparknotes.com/poetry/blake/section4.rhtml

http://www.gradesaver.com/songs-of-innocence-and-of-experience/study-guide/summary-the-little-black-boy

http://www.tate.org.uk/learn/online-resources/william-blake/songs-innocence-and-experience/songs-innocence-little-black-boy

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Little_Black_Boy 

https://poemanalysis.com/the-little-black-boy-by-william-blake-poem-analysis/

 

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She has laughed as softly as if she sighed,
She has counted six and over,
Of a purse well filled, and a heart well tried –
Oh each a worthy lover!
They “give her time”; for her soul must slip
Where the world has set the grooving:
She will lie to none with her fair red lip –
But love seeks truer loving.

She trembles her fan in a sweetness dumb,
As her thoughts were beyond recalling,
With a glance for one, and a glance for some,
For her eyelids rising and falling;
Speaks common words with a blushful air,
Hears bold words, unreproving
But her silence says – what she never will swear –
And love seeks better loving.

Go, lady, lean to the night-guitar,
And drop a smile to the bringer,
Then smile as sweetly, when he is far,
At the voice of an indoor singer.
Bask tenderly beneath tender eyes;
Glance lightly on their removing;
And join new vows to old perjuries –
But dare not call it loving.

Unless you can think, when the song is done,
No other is soft in the rhythm;
Unless you can feel, when left by one,
That all men else go with him;
Unless you can know, when unpraised by his breath,
That your beauty itself wants proving;
Unless you can swear, “For life, for death!” –
Oh fear to call it loving!

Unless you can muse in a crowd all day,
On the absent face that fixed you;
Unless you can love, as the angels may,
With the breadth of heaven betwixt you;
Unless you can dream that his faith is fast,
Through behoving and unbehoving;
Unless you can die when the dream is past –
Oh never call it loving!

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Look out upon the stars, my love,
And shame them with thine eyes,
On which, than on the lights above,
There hang more destinies.
Night’s beauty is the harmony
Of blending shades and light;
Then, lady, up, – look out, and be
A sister to the night!

Sleep not! thine image wakes for aye
Within my watching breast:
Sleep not! from her soft sleep should fly
Who robs all hearts of rest.
Nay, lady, from thy slumbers break,
And make this darkness gay
With looks, whose brightness well might make
Of darker nights a day.

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nZ1d434

A man and a woman are separated on a darkened stage, then get closer together and finally meet.  Positions ( )

(1)           (2)           (3)(3)             (2)             (1)

The light shines on the one singing and on neither during the chorus, except in the last position.  There, the light shines on the man and does not go off as the light then shines also on the woman, and on both during the chorus.

(1) M: I sit and sing a lonesome song,
My life is hard and cold.
I sometimes think I’ll never have
A special girl to hold.

(1) F: There’s nights when I can’t fall asleep,
One pillow on my bed,
The only shoulder for my grief
And bitter tears I shed.

Chorus:
M: But one day
F: Someday
M: Says my mind
F: Perhaps I’ll find
M: And then I’ll know,
F: I’ll surely know.
M: And holding hands
F: Through life we’ll go.
M: I’ll love her so.
F: I’ll love him so.

(2) M: I’d give a rib to have a mate;
I’d even give an arm.
This lonely life I’m leading now
Brings my heart far more harm.

(2) F: I know that I have love to give,
But none to give it to.
I ache to find a man for me
With whom to go life through.

Chorus:
M: But one day
F: Someday
M: Says my mind
F: Perhaps I’ll find
M: And then I’ll know,
F: I’ll surely know.
M: And holding hands
F: Through life we’ll go.
M: I’ll love her so.
F: I’ll love him so.

(3) M: I sometimes think she is so near,
That she can hear my cry,
And I could see her lovely face
If I would harder try.

(3) F: The curtain has been lifted;
My sorrow veil is gone.
The warmth and brightness flooding
Is a new loving dawn.

Chorus:
M: And one day
F: This day
M: Says my mind
F: I now have found
M: And I now know
F: I surely know.
M: And holding hands
F: Through life we’ll go.
M: I’ll love you so.
F: I’ll love you so.

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photo by Eve Blackwood at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/nZ1d434/frame+with+hearts

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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.

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Whether on Ida’s shady brow,
Or in the chambers of the East,
The chambers of the sun, that now
From ancient melody have ceas’d;

Whether in Heaven ye wander fair,
Or the green corners of the earth,
Or the blue regions of the air
Where the melodious winds have birth;

Whether on coastal rocks ye rove
Beneath the bosom of the sea
Wand’ring in many a coral grove,
For Nine, forsaking Poetry!

How have you left the ancient love
That bards of old enjoy’d in you!
The languid strings do scarcely move!
The sound is forc’d, the notes are few!

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What is the heart of a girl?
Is it something that’s given to swing?
Oh! Be it whatever it may,
The heart of a girl is a wonderful thing.

What a precious gift man can obtain,
And it’s something that to him brings
Love, joy and perhaps fame –
‘Tis the heart of a girl, a wonderful thing.

If you be a gambler, or maybe a cheat,
When a girl comes along, ah then,
If she gives you her heart, you’ll fall at her feet,
For the heart of a girl is a wonderful thing.

A heart that’s wonderful and true,
A heart that’s ready to sing,
Except that heart there’s nothing for you,
For the heart of a girl is a wonderful thing.

If you want to be happy and gay,
Listen to me, my friend,
Get the heart of a girl of today,
For it is a wonderful thing.

It will wipe away all sadness,
It will wipe away all pain;
It will bring you joy and gladness,
For the heart of a girl is a wonderful thing!

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If you but knew
How all my days seemed filled with dreams of you,
How sometimes in the silent night
Your eyes thrill through me with their tender light,
How oft I hear your voice when others speak,
How you ‘mid other forms I seek –
Oh, love more real than though such dreams were true
If you but knew.

Could you but guess
How you alone make all my happiness,
How I am more than willing for your sake
To stand alone, give all and nothing take,
Nor chafe to think you bound while I am free,
Quite free, till death, to love  you silently,
Could you but guess.

Could you but learn
How when you doubt my truth I sadly yearn
To tell you all, to stand for one brief space
Unfettered, soul to soul, as face to face,
To crown you king, my king, till life shall end,
My love and likewise my truest friend,
Would you love me, dearest, as fondly in return,
Could you but learn?

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mtjfvnq

Ah! the bliss of a kiss from the sweet pretty miss
Who’s stolen my poor heart away.
But more! when there’s four, from the one I adore
Who brightens a drab, cloudy day.

Ah! the mile that her smile makes me float all the while
Is covered with roses and dew.
I stride, deep inside joy rises, a tide,
With wave after wave washing through.

Ohh! Away just one day and the sky turns to gray;
My heart beats, but barely and blue.
I’m sad, driven mad, but my thought makes me glad:
That her heart is yearning, loves too.


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photo by Gabriella Fabbri at
http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/mtJFVnQ/love

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© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2016.

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Ye banks and braes, and streams around
The castle o’ Montgomery,
Green be your woods and fair your flowers,
Your waters never drumlie!
There Summer first unfald her robes,
And there the langest tarry;
For there I took the last fareweel,
O’ my sweet Highland Mary.

How sweetly bloomed the gay, green birk,
How rich the hawthorn’s blossom,
As underneath their fragrant shade
I clasped her to my bosom!
The golden hours on angel wings
Flew o’er me and my dearie;
For dear to me as light and life
Was my sweet Highland Mary.

Wi’ monie a vow and locked embrace
Our parting was fu’ tender;
And, pledging aft to meet again,
We tore oursels asunder.
But O, fell Death’s untimely frost,
That nipt my flower sae early!
Now green’s the sod, and cauld’s the clay,
That wraps my Highland Mary!

O pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
I aft hae kissed sae fondly:
And closed for ay, the sparkling glance
That dwalt on me sae kindly;
And mouldering now in silent dust
That heart that lo’ed me dearly!
But still within my bosom’s core
Shall live my Highland Mary.

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