Quotes About Song

Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong, And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song.

While I've had a great distaste for what's usually called song in modern poetry or for what's usually called music, I really don't think of speech as so far from song.

The great modern heresy in poetry is to confuse the use we make of words in a poem with modalities of speech...For true poetry is never speech but always a song.

Poetry comes out of an elite experience, the experience of people whose ears are opened to the song of the universe.

Blessed is the covenant of love, the covenant of mercy, useless light behind the terror, deathless song in the house of night.

I don't think that good politics ever excuse a bad song.

The song is ended, but the melody lingers on.

Live your life, sing your song. Not full of expectations. Not for the ovations. But for the joy of it.

Life is not logic, life is not philosophy. Life is a dance, a song, a celebration! It is more like love and less like logic.

In my heaven sweet melodies of the skies ripple pool of the sea playing sweet song to me, sharing tales of the past, blending with mine as mirage, painting new...I breathe in, am in love and alive...

UNSOPHISTICATEDI sing my merry songat first blush of daythis external peacetendered by the soft shadeof tidy clouds idly crossing places, a fresh note returns to mind:I am unsophisticated at heart.

Your life is your song, sing it loud!

Music's staying power is a function of how timeless the lyrics, song and production are.

And I made a rural pen,And I stain'd the water clear,And I wrote my happy songsEvery child may joy to hear.

O autumn, laden with fruit, and stain'd With the blood of the grape, pass not, but sit Beneath my shady roof, there thou mayst rest, And tune thy jolly voice to my fresh pipe, And all the daughters of the year shall dance! Sing now the lusty song of fruits and flowers.

Speech after long silence; it is right,All other lovers being estranged or dead…That we descant and yet again descantUpon the supreme theme of Art and Song:Bodily decrepitude is wisdom; youngWe loved each other and were ignorant.

You think it horrible that lust and rageShould dance attention upon my old age;They were not such a plague when I was young;What else have I to spur me into song?

He that sings a lasting songThinks in a marrowbone.

Sing, for it may be that your thoughts have plucked Some medicable herb to make our grief Less bitter.

In summer the songsings itselfabove the muffled words—

A poem is this:/A nuance of sound/delicately operating/upon a cataract of sense/...the particulars/of a song waking/upon a bed of sound.

Joseph thought he knew the plants that had sought out the twitterers, and those that had risen for the wren, or a fern that turned, not to the sun, but toward the chatter of the chickadee, so quick were the petals of its song, so sharp so plentiful so light, so showy in their symmetry, so suddenly in shade.

That love, which fails of perfect utterance here, Lives on to fill the heavenly atmosphere With its immortal song.

All the pirates, and Lord Pitch's mercy, were dead in less time than it takes to sing a song.