Sweete Themmes runne softly, till I end my Song.

 

Sweete Themmes runne softly, till I end my Song.
--
The last line of each stanza
--
This is often attributed to T. S. Eliot, who does indeed quote it in The Waste Land.

 

Edmund Spenser

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No daintie flowre or herbe that growes on grownd,
No arborett with painted blossoms drest
And smelling sweete, but there it might be fownd
To bud out faire, and throwe her sweete smels al arownd.

 

Edmund Spenser

 

One seed becomes
An everlasting song, a singing tree,
Caroling softly souls of slavery,
What they were, and what they are to me,
Caroling softly souls of slavery.

 

Jean Toomer

 

My favorite song right now is impossible to defend. It's impossible. We should all be ashamed of ourselves for liking this f**king song. Lil Jon. You know that shit: "To the window! To the wall! [crowd sings along] 'Till the sweat drip from my balls! Skeet, skeet, skeet, skeet!" You go to clubs, you see girls dance to that shit. "Till the sweat drip from my balls! Till the sweat drip from my balls! From my balls! From my balls! My balls! Skeet, Skeet Skeet!" I feel sorry for the guys that gotta pick a wife out of this bunch. It's like, "Daddy, where'd you meet Mommy?" "Oh, she was singing about balls at a club. Skeet, skeet, skeet!"

 

Chris Rock

 

My moon shines so softly
On the hair of my killer
Pours flowers on his head
Help me, give him some shelter!
Come, lie by the river
Rest your head, don't you fear
Sleep softly, my baby
They won't find you here.

 

Mike Oldfield

 

His mother taught him to sing. And when he had grown up and had listened to the world's song, he felt that there could be no greater happiness than to return to her song. In her song dwelt the most precious and most incomprehensible dreams of mankind. The heath grew into the heavens in those days. The songbirds of the air listened in wonder to this song, the most beautiful song of life.

 

Halldor Laxness