Why Did I Laugh Tonight? No Voice Will Tell

Last Island · #1 Tuesday, July 01, 2008

WHY DID I LAUGH TONIGHT? NO VOICE WILL TELL

Why did I laugh tonight? No voice will tell
No God, no demon of severe response
Deigns to reply from heaven or from hell
Then to my human heart I turn at once:
Heart, thou and I are here, sad and alone,
Say, why did I laugh? O mortal pain!
O darkness! darkness! Forever must I moan
To question heaven and hell and heart in vain?
Why did I laugh? I know this being's lease
My fancy to it's utmost blisses spreads
Yet would I on this very midnight cease
And all the world's gaudy ensigns see in shreds
Verse, fame and beauty are intense indeed
But death intenser, death is life's high meed.

John Keats

S.H.Virk · #2 Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Quote:

Originally Posted by Last Island

WHY DID I LAUGH TONIGHT? NO VOICE WILL TELL

Why did I laugh tonight? No voice will tell
No God, no demon of severe response
Deigns to reply from heaven or from hell
Then to my human heart I turn at once:
Heart, thou and I are here, sad and alone,
Say, why did I laugh? O mortal pain!
O darkness! darkness! Forever must I moan
To question heaven and hell and heart in vain?
Why did I laugh? I know this being's lease
My fancy to it's utmost blisses spreads
Yet would I on this very midnight cease
And all the world's gaudy ensigns see in shreds
Verse, fame and beauty are intense indeed
But death intenser, death is life's high meed.

John Keats

THINK no more, lad; laugh, be jolly:
Why should men make haste to die?
Empty heads and tongues a-talking
Make the rough road easy walking,
And the feather pate of folly
Bears the falling sky.

Oh, it is jesting, dancing, drinking
Spins the heavy world around.
If young hearts were not so clever,
Oh, they would be young for ever:
Think no more; ’tis only thinking
Lays lads underground.

Last Island · #3 Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Quote:

Originally Posted by S.H.Virk

THINK no more, lad; laugh, be jolly:
Why should men make haste to die?
Empty heads and tongues a-talking
Make the rough road easy walking,
And the feather pate of folly
Bears the falling sky.

Oh, it is jesting, dancing, drinking
Spins the heavy world around.
If young hearts were not so clever,
Oh, they would be young for ever:
Think no more; ’tis only thinking
Lays lads underground.

Soft you day, be velvet soft,
My true love approaches,
Look you bright, you dusty sun,
Array your golden coaches.

Soft you wind, be soft as silk
My true love is speaking.
Hold you birds, your silver throats,
His golden voice I'm seeking.

Come you death, in haste, do come
My shroud of black be weaving,
Quiet my heart, be deathly quiet,
My true love is leaving.

Maya Angelou

Jani Abro · #4 Wednesday, July 02, 2008

Say, O sweet, and do not rise,
The light that shines comes from thine eyes;
The day breaks not, it is my heart,
Because that you and I must part.
Stay, or else my joys will die,
And perish in their infancy.

by Anon.

Last Island · #5 Thursday, July 03, 2008

Quote:

Originally Posted by Jani Abro

Say, O sweet, and do not rise,
The light that shines comes from thine eyes;
The day breaks not, it is my heart,
Because that you and I must part.
Stay, or else my joys will die,
And perish in their infancy.

by Anon.

By John Donne.

STAY, O sweet, and do not rise!
The light that shines comes from thine eyes;
The day breaks not: it is my heart,
Because that you and I must part.
Stay! or else my joys will die,
And perish in their infancy.

Tis true, ’tis day: what though it be?
O, wilt thou therefore rise from me?
Why should we rise because ’tis light?
Did we lie down because ’twas night?
Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither,
Should in despite of light keep us together.

Light hath no tongue, but is all eye.

If it could speak as well as spy,

This were the worst that it could say:—

That, being well, I fain would stay,
And that I lov’d my heart and honour so,
That I would not from him, that had them, go.

Must business thee from hence remove?
Oh, that’s the worse disease of love!
The poor, the fool, the false, love can
Admit, but not the busied man.
He, which hath business, and makes love, doth do
Such wrong, as when a married man doth woo

S.H.Virk · #6 Thursday, July 03, 2008

Quote:

Originally Posted by Last Island

Come you death, in haste, do come
[/B]My shroud of black be weaving,
Quiet my heart, be deathly quiet,
My true love is leaving.

[/SIZE]

Maya Angelou

IN the wild autumn weather, when the rain was on the sea,
And the boughs sobbed together, Death came and spoke to me:
“Those red drops of thy heart I have come to take from thee;
As the storm sheds the rose, so thy love shall broken be,”
Said Death to me.

Then I stood straight and fearless while the rain was in the wave,
And I spoke low and tearless: “When thou hast made my grave,
Those red drops from my heart then thou shalt surely have;
But the rose keeps its bloom, as I my love will save
All for my grave.”

In the wild autumn weather a dread sword slipped from its sheath;
While the boughs sobbed together, I fought a fight with Death,
And I vanquished him with prayer, and I vanquished him by faith:
Now the summer air is sweet with the rose’s fragrant breath
That conquered Death.

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The Following User Says Thank You to Last Island For This Useful Post:
Muhammad T S Awan (Wednesday, July 09, 2008)

The Following User Says Thank You to S.H.Virk For This Useful Post:
Last Island (Wednesday, July 02, 2008)