Every poem is a coat of arms. It must be deciphered. How much blood, how many tears in exchange for these axes, these muzzles, these unicorns, these torches, these towers, these martlets, these seedlings of stars and these fields of blue! (Jean Cocteau)

Every poem is a coat of arms. It must be deciphered. How much blood, how many tears in exchange for these axes, these muzzles, these unicorns, these torches, these towers, these martlets, these seedlings of stars and these fields of blue!

Jean Cocteau

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The pale stars are gone! For the sun, their swift shepherd, To their folds them compelling, In the depths of the dawn, Hastes, in meteor-eclipsing array, and the flee Beyond his blue dwelling, As fawns flee the leopard.

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People say I'm the life of the party 'Cause I tell a joke or two. Although I might be laughing loud and hearty, Deep inside I'm blue. So take a good look at my face. You know my smile looks out of place. If you look closer, it's easy to trace The tracks of my tears.

Smokey Robinson

Trust me, Clara Vere de Vere, From yon blue heavens above us bent The gardener Adam and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent. Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

No radiant pearl which crested Fortune wears, No gem that twinkling hangs from Beauty's ears, Not the bright stars which Night's blue arch adorn, Nor rising suns that gild the vernal morn, Shine with such lustre as the tear that flows Down Virtue's manly cheek for others' woes.

Erasmus Darwin

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

Lord Byron