“The Indian Serenade” is a love poem by the Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley. The speaker in this poem awakes from a sweet dream of his beloved. Longing for her he makes his way through a beautiful Indian night to see her. When outside her window our lovesick speaker begs the object of his desire to press her heart against his once more…

Percy Bysshe Shelley (4 August 1792 – 8 July 1822) was an English poet and writer and is one of the key figures of the British Romantic era. Shelley is known for his radical political and social views but did not achieve fame during his lifetime. He was an atheist, vegetarian and advocated free love.

The Indian Serenade 

Poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley

I arise from dreams of thee
In the first sweet sleep of night,
When the winds are breathing low,
And the stars are shining bright:
I arise from dreams of thee,
And a spirit in my feet
Hath led me—who knows how?
To thy chamber window, Sweet!

The wandering airs they faint
On the dark, the silent stream—
The Champak odours fail
Like sweet thoughts in a dream;
The Nightingale's complaint,
It dies upon her heart;—
As I must on thine,
Oh, belovèd as thou art!

Oh lift me from the grass!
I die! I faint! I fail!
Let thy love in kisses rain
On my lips and eyelids pale.
My cheek is cold and white, alas!
My heart beats loud and fast;—
Oh! press it to thine own again,
Where it will break at last.

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🧑Read a short biography of Percy Bysshe Shelley

“Summer” is a poem by the British Romantic poet John Clare. This lovely poem paints a beautiful picture of a summer’s day in nature where the flowers are blooming and the birds are tending their nests. Here the speaker, overwhelmed with love and desire, wants to seek comfort by being near his beloved who sits beneath a whitetorn bush. 

The music is written, performed and produced by me (human made). To create a feeling of being outdoors on a summer’s day I recorded birdsong and added it to the track. 

John Clare (1793 – 1864) was the son of a farm laborer and is known as the “Peasant Poet”. Clare is is one of the key figures of the British Romantic Era and is known for his poetry about the English countryside.

Summer

Poem by John Clare

Come we to the summer, to the summer we will come,
For the woods are full of bluebells and the hedges full of bloom,
And the crow is on the oak a-building of her nest,
And love is burning diamonds in my true lover's breast;
She sits beneath the whitethorn a-plaiting of her hair,
And I will to my true lover with a fond request repair;
I will look upon her face, I will in her beauty rest,
And lay my aching weariness upon her lovely breast.

The clock-a-clay is creeping on the open bloom of May,
The merry bee is trampling the pinky threads all day,
And the chaffinch it is brooding on its grey mossy nest
In the whitethorn bush where I will lean upon my lover's breast;
I'll lean upon her breast and I'll whisper in her ear
That I cannot get a wink o'sleep for thinking of my dear;
I hunger at my meat and I daily fade away
Like the hedge rose that is broken in the heat of the day.

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🧑Read a short biography of John Clare

“To My Dear and Loving Husband” is a famous romantic poem by Anne Bradstreet where the speaker declares her undying love and gratitude for her husband. This poem is often recited at marriage anniversaries and weddings. If I ever get married I hope I will love my husband as much as Anne loved hers!

Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672) was a British born poet who emigrated to America at the age of 18. She was the first writer (man or woman) to be published in England's North American colonies and is considered to be an early feminist.

To My Dear and Loving Husband 

Poem By Anne Bradstreet

If ever two were one, then surely we. 
If ever man were loved by wife, then thee. 
If ever wife was happy in a man, 
Compare with me, ye women, if you can. 
I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold, 
Or all the riches that the East doth hold. 
My love is such that rivers cannot quench, 
Nor ought but love from thee give recompense. 
Thy love is such I can no way repay; 
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. 
Then while we live, in love let’s so persever, 
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

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👩 Read a short biography of Anne Bradstreet

"She Walks in Beauty" is a famous romantic poem written in 1814 by Lord Byron. The poem describes a woman as beautiful as the starry night sky. She is to the speaker the perfect balance between dark and light, possessing both inner and outer beauty.

The poem is believed to be inspired by the wife of Byron’s cousin Sir Robert Wilmot. At a party in London Byron was struck by the woman’s unusual beauty and wrote the poem the next day. George Gordon Byron (1788 – 1824), also known as Lord Byron is one of the major poets of the British Romantic era.

With the music video I wanted to show women from different cultures dancing and being their beautiful selves. I mostly used free clips from Pixabay and Pexels.

Read an analysis of "She Walks in Beauty" at PoemAnalysis. 

She Walks in Beauty

Poem by Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

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🧑Read a short biography of Lord Byron

 “Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art” is a famous love poem by the British Romantic poet John Keats (1795 – 1821). The poem was either written or revised for Fanny Brawne with whom Keats was secretly engaged to. Would you choose immortality like the bright star or stay human so you can lay upon your lover’s breast and listen to her breathe?

Read an analysis of the poem at PoemAnalysis. 

Bright Star

Poem by John Keats

Bright Star! would I were stedfast as thou art--
    Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
    Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
    Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen masque
    Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
    Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft swell and fall,
    Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
    And so live ever--or else swoon to death.

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🧑Read a short biography of John Keats

“Spring Rain” is a poem by the American lyrical poet Sara Teasdale (1884–1933). Here the speaker, during a thunderstorm, recalls a happy memory shared with a love on a rainy evening.

For some reason I really enjoy playing this song!

Stars

Poem by Sara Teasdale

I thought I had forgotten,
But it all came back again
To-night with the first spring thunder
In a rush of rain.

I remembered a darkened doorway
Where we stood while the storm swept by,
Thunder gripping the earth
And lightning scrawled on the sky.

The passing motor busses swayed,
For the street was a river of rain,
Lashed into little golden waves
In the lamp light's stain.

With the wild spring rain and thunder
My heart was wild and gay;
Your eyes said more to me that night
Than your lips would ever say. 

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👩 Read a short biography of Sara Teasdale

“The Ecchoing Green” by William Blake is a poem about childhood and the passing of time. The children in the poem are playing outdoors and their games are being observed by an old who’s remembering his own youth. 

William Blake was a painter and poet who lived between 1757 – 1827. Blake is one of the most famous and important figures of the British Romantic era.

The Ecchoing Green

Poem by William Blake

The sun does arise,
And make happy the skies.
The merry bells ring
To welcome the Spring.
The sky-lark and thrush,
The birds of the bush,
Sing louder around,
To the bells’ cheerful sound.
While our sports shall be seen
On the Ecchoing Green.

Old John, with white hair
Does laugh away care,
Sitting under the oak,
Among the old folk,
They laugh at our play,
And soon they all say.
‘Such, such were the joys.
When we all girls & boys,
In our youth-time were seen,
On the Ecchoing Green.’

Till the little ones weary
No more can be merry
The sun does descend,
And our sports have an end:
Round the laps of their mothers,
Many sisters and brothers,
Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest;
And sport no more seen,
On the darkening Green.

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🧑Read a short biography of William Blake

“The Garden of Love” is a poem by the British Romantic poet and painter William Blake (1757 – 1827) . The speaker in this poem visits a garden where he used to play. But instead of sweet flowers and greenery he finds that a controlling religion has ruined the natural expression of joy and love in the garden. Blake was religious man but through his work he would also criticize organized religion and the oppression of free thought. 

I kept the arrangement very simple for this song, only a fingerpicking electric guitar and my vocals.

The Garden of Love

Poem by William Blake

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door;
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore. 

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

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🧑Read a short biography o William Blake

Me painting and singing Emily Dickinson’s poem “The Moon”. The speaker in this poem describes the moon as a beautiful woman so I have painted her as a woman standing an a crescent moon spreading stars across the universe.

The speed painting was made in Rebelle 7 Pro with watercolors and airbrushes.

THE MOON

Poem by Emily Dickinson

THE moon was but a chin of gold
A night or two ago,
And now she turns her perfect face
Upon the world below.

Her forehead is of amplest blond;
Her cheek like beryl stone;
Her eye unto the summer dew
The likest I have known.

Her lips of amber never part;
But what must be the smile
Upon her friend she could bestow
Were such her silver will!

And what a privilege to be
But the remotest star!
For certainly her way might pass
Beside your twinkling door.

Her bonnet is the firmament,
The universe her shoe,
The stars the trinkets at her belt,
Her dimities of blue.

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👩 Read a short biography of Emily Dickinson