Victory
Peace! for the silver bugles play,
And the glad fifes, with shriller sound;
The drum beats fast, and, far away,
Awakens joy profound.
From dawn unto the setting sun
We battled, and our foes have lost;
O heart, my heart, the day is won,—
Break thou, and pay the cost!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
The Red Drum
The red drum beats
when every other drum stops beating
every soul dance to the rhythm of life
from the pulsating ethos of the red drum
the red drum not only beats
when you listen, the red drum is talking
every stony heart has a sheath for a knife
from a gush on the tempo of the red drum
the red drum by nature is sexy
when your heart flutter and in frenzy
every stolen glance from your heartthrob
from the blushes irrigated by the red drum
the red drum is jealous and vindictive
when retrospect’s stab is aggressive
every soft spot, love and pardon flee
from dirges the red drum goes on spree
the red drum you should know is the heart
when in our short lives destiny plays its part
every promise given not to stray our drumsticks
from where we are identified as God’s handpicks
poem by Dela Bobobee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Beat
Drum, drum, hear the drum
beating its beat
for what's to come.
It beats like your heart
a steady boom.
It slows sometimes
and then will resume.
And when the drum beats
can't be heard
and your heart no longer
can be stirred,
the silence reaches where you are
because the drum beat
is too far.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Painter on Silk
There was a man
Who made his living
By painting roses
Upon silk.
He sat in an upper chamber
And painted,
And the noises of the street
Meant nothing to him.
When he heard bugles, and fifes, and drums,
He thought of red, and yellow, and white roses
Bursting in the sunshine,
And smiled as he worked.
He thought only of roses,
And silk.
When he could get no more silk
He stopped painting
And only thought
Of roses.
The day the conquerors
Entered the city,
The old man
Lay dying.
He heard the bugles and drums,
And wished he could paint the roses
Bursting into sound.
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We Want Peace
Here it is once again in our face
Why havent we learned from our past
Were at the crossroads of the human race
Why are we kicking our own ass
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
Were on the eve of destruction my friends
We are about to go too far
Politicians think that war is the way
But we know that love has the power
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
The solution is simple and plain
There wont be peace if we dont try
In a war there is nothing to gain
And so many people will die
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
We want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace, we want it
Yes we want peace
And we want it fast
song performed by by Lenny Kravitz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking:
Dream of battled fields no more,
Days of danger, nights of waking.
In our isle's enchanted hall,
Hands unseen thy couch are strewing,
Fairy strains of music fall,
Every sense in slumber dewing.
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Dream of fighting fields no more:
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
No rude sound shall reach thine ear,
Armour's clang, or war-steed champing,
Trump nor pibroch summon here
Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come
At the day-break from the fallow,
And the bittern sound his drum,
Booming from the sedgy shallow.
Ruder sounds shall none be near,
Guards nor warders challenge here,
Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing,
Shouting clans or squadrons stamping.
Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done,
While our slumbrous spells assail ye,
Dream not, with the rising sun,
Bugles here shall sound reveillé.
Sleep! the deer is in his den;
Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying;
Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen,
How thy gallant steed lay dying.
Huntsman, rest; thy chase is done,
Think not of the rising sun,
For at dawning to assail ye,
Here no bugles sound reveillé.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lady of the Lake: Canto 1 (excerpt)
SONG
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking:
Dream of battled fields no more,
Days of danger, nights of waking.
In our isle's enchanted hall,
Hands unseen thy couch are strewing,
Fairy strains of music fall,
Every sense in slumber dewing.
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o'er,
Dream of fighting fields no more:
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Morn of toil, nor night of waking.
No rude sound shall reach thine ear,
Armour's clang, or war-steed champing,
Trump nor pibroch summon here
Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.
Yet the lark's shrill fife may come
At the day-break from the fallow,
And the bittern sound his drum,
Booming from the sedgy shallow.
Ruder sounds shall none be near,
Guards nor warders challenge here,
Here's no war-steed's neigh and champing,
Shouting clans or squadrons stamping....
Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done,
While our slumbrous spells assail ye,
Dream not, with the rising sun,
Bugles here shall sound reveillé.
Sleep! the deer is in his den;
Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying;
Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen,
How thy gallant steed lay dying.
Huntsman, rest; thy chase is done,
Think not of the rising sun,
For at dawning to assail ye,
Here no bugles sound reveillé.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Song Inscribed To The Fremont Clubs
BENEATH thy skies, November!
Thy skies of cloud and rain,
Around our blazing camp-fires
We close our ranks again.
Then sound again the bugles,
Call the muster-roll anew;
If months have well-nigh won the field,
What may not four years do?
For God be praised! New England
Takes once more her ancient place;
Again the Pilgrim's banner
Leads the vanguard of the race.
Then sound again the bugles, etc.
Along the lordly Hudson,
A shout of triumph breaks;
The Empire State is speaking,
From the ocean to the lakes.
Then sound again the bugles, etc.
The Northern hills are blazing,
The Northern skies are bright;
And the fair young West is turning
Her forehead to the light!
Then sound again the bugles,. etc.
Push every outpost nearer,
Press hard the hostile towers!
Another Balaklava,
And the Malakoff is ours!
Then sound again the bugles,
Call the muster-roll anew;
If months have well-nigh won the field,
What may not four years do?
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Renegade
Baby, I go too fast too far
Let's get it straight now
The way things are
I'm not the white knight in your fantasy
But I could be your wildest dream
I might ride with the wind
I might follow the sun
I gotta go where I've never been
'Cause my heart beats to a different drum
It's just the way I was made
I'm a renegade
I'm a renegade
I get this feelin' that I should be gone
Somethin' keeps tellin' me to take you along
I got a Chevy with a big back seat
Climb on in
And take a change on me
I might ride with the wind
I might follow the sun
I gotta go where I've never been
'Cause my heart beats to a different drum
It's just the way I was made
I'm a renegade
I'm a renegade
Don't even think about settlin' down
I ain't gonna hang my hat in no hometown
I might ride with the wind
I might follow the sun
I gotta go where I've never been
'Cause my heart beats to a different drum
It's just the way I was made
I'm a renegade
I'm a renegade
I'm a renegade
I'm a renegade
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evil Drum Beats
Rumble, Rumble!
If you are not careful
The drum might beat for you
The evil drum beats to blood
made out of flesh
It only beats out destiny
Innocently, the destiny comes out to dance a tune
but instead of finding joy
it dances in tears
you dare not refuse dancing when it beats for you
but more than once
I say life is for the heart, strong and fierce.
poem by Yewande Adedokun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can You Hear It
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
I like that beat as it comes along.
It’s the same beat and the same tune,
we all know it’ll be here soon.
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
fast or slow it’s a catchy song.
I kind of look forward to its day
and it's a shame when it goes away.
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
It's getting closer and it won’t be long.
At last it's coming down our street
with its catchy drumming beat.
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
it's so simple I can’t go wrong.
It's getting louder as it comes near,
the people watching give it a cheer.
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
the beat’s blasting out loud and strong.
The man inside this sweeping machine
sings as he works to keep the streets clean.
Drum, drum, tipi tap, tong,
the sounds are fading as it goes along.
But it's nice to know as he sweeps the curb,
his drum, drum, tipi tap, tong, has the final word.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Profound Is the Sound of Silence
Profound is the sound of silence.
The acceptance of its presence,
Is immediate and welcomed.
Profound is the sound of silence.
The calmness of it is irresistable.
It seems to magnify in power.
Profound is the sound of silence.
So much when it arrives can be accomplished.
And so appreciated it is when it comes and gives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Swan Of Dijon
I was in Dijon when the war's wild blast
Was at its loudest; when there was no sound
From dawn to dawn, save soldiers marching past,
Or rattle of their wagons in the street.
When every engine whistle would repeat
Persistently, with meaning tense, profound,
'We carry men to slaughter' or 'we bring
Remnants of men back as war's offering.'
And there in Dijon, the out-gazing eye
Grew weary of the strife-suggesting scene;
But, searching, found one quiet spot hard by
Where war was not; a little lake whereon
Moved leisurely a stately, tranquil swan,
Majestic and imposing, yet serene.
I was in Dijon, when no sound or sight
Woke thoughts of peace, save this one speck of white,
Sailing 'neath skies of menace, unafraid
While silver fountains for his pleasure played.
Dear Swan of Dijon, it was your good part
To rest a tired heart.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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A fool is like the big drum that beats fast but does not realize its hollowness.
Bag Otales
Its easy to believe some people dont care. believe a gift is to be given but never shared. when your clothes are stripped you got what you got. when you drive your car to heaven there aint no
Ing lot. another builded up, another undone. like every day dawn becomes another setting sun. I still believe you came to see. bet you thought Id comprehend. you wish for me, you wish to be. but Im a hero who cant pretend. I should have riches after all that Ive been through. should have some peace of mind, I should shave somebody new. a silver locket or a painting just for you. but all I gots a big old bag of tales. I tell the stories, I write by my hand. the things Ive felt another could never understand. better to have lived and loved than never because. its not the things it could have been, its that that never was. I should have riches after all that Ive been through. should have some peace of mind, I should have somebody new. a silver locket or a painting just for you. but all I gots a big old bag
Of tales.
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dance, Dance, Dance
After six hours of school Ive had enough for the day
I hit the radio dial and turn it up all the way
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beats really hot) right on the spot
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beats really hot
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
When I feel put down I try to shake it off quick
With my chick by my side the radio does the trick
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beats really hot) right on the spot
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beats really hot
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
Ohby!
At a weekend dance we like to show up late
I play it cool when its slow and jump it when its fast
I gotta dance (dance dance dance now the beats really hot) right on the spot
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
The beats really hot
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
Dance (dance) dance (dance) dance (dance) yeah!
(dance dance dance now the beats really hot)
(dance dance dance right there on the spot)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Little Drummer Boy (feat. Ashlee Simpson)
(duet with Ashlee Simpson)
Come they told me, pa rum pa pum pum
Our newborn King to see, pa rum pa pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pa pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pa pum pum,
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum,
So to honor Him, pa rum pa pum pum,
When we come...
Little Baby, pa rum pa pum pum
I am a poor boy too, pa rum pa pum pum
I have no gift to bring, pa rum pa pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pa pum pum,
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum,
Shall I play for you, pa rum pa pum pum,
On my drum?...
Mary nodded, pa rum pa pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pa pum pum
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pa pum pum
I played my best for Him, pa rum pa pum pum
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum
Then He smiled at me, pa rum pa pum pum
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Drummer Boy
Come they told me, pa rum pa pum pum
Our newborn King to see, pa rum pa pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring, pa rum pa pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pa pum pum,
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum,
So to honor Him, pa rum pa pum pum,
When we come...
Little Baby, pa rum pa pum pum
I am a poor boy too, pa rum pa pum pum
I have no gift to bring, pa rum pa pum pum
To lay before the King, pa rum pa pum pum,
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum,
Shall I play for you, pa rum pa pum pum,
On my drum?...
Mary nodded, pa rum pa pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time, pa rum pa pum pum
I played my drum for Him, pa rum pa pum pum
I played my best for Him, pa rum pa pum pum
Rum pa pum pum, rum pa pum pum
Then He smiled at me, pa rum pa pum pum
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
Me and my drum...
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Silver Jubilee
To James First Bishop of Shrewsbury on the 25th Year of his Episcopate July 28. 1876
1
Though no high-hung bells or din
Of braggart bugles cry it in—
What is sound? Nature’s round
Makes the Silver Jubilee.
2
Five and twenty years have run
Since sacred fountains to the sun
Sprang, that but now were shut,
Showering Silver Jubilee.
3
Feasts, when we shall fall asleep,
Shrewsbury may see others keep;
None but you this her true,
This her Silver Jubilee.
4
Not today we need lament
Your wealth of life is some way spent:
Toil has shed round your head
Silver but for Jubilee.
5
Then for her whose velvet vales
Should have pealed with welcome, Wales,
Let the chime of a rhyme
Utter Silver Jubilee.
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Little Drummer Boy
Come they told me our pa ra pa pum pum a newborn King to see pa ra pa pum pum
Our finest gifts we bring pa ra pa pum pum to lay before the King pa ra pa pum pum
Ra pa pum pum ra pa pum pum ra pa pum pum
So to honor him pa ra pa pum pum when we come
Little baby pa ra pa pum pum I am a poor boy too pa ra pa pum pum
I have no gift to bring pa ra pa pum pum that's fit to give a King pa ra pa pum pum
Ra pa pum pum ra pa pam pam ra pa pum pum
Oh shall I play for you pa ra pa pum pum on my drum
(Mary nodded yes pa ra pa pum pum the ox and lamb kept time pa ra pa pum pum
I played my drum for him pa ra pa pum pum
I played my best for him pa ra pa pum pum
Ra pa pum pum ra pa pum pum ra pa pum pum)
Then he smiled at me pa ra pa pum pum me and my drum
Me and my drum me and my drum I played for him on my drum on my drum
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Peace Women Drum On Their Peace Drums
The Peace Women drum on their peace drums in hope that the war men may hear
The war men who wage war on others the influential bullies who live far from here
The bullies who wage their so called war on terror who themselves are responsible for brutal acts of shame
Yet the bombing and murdering continues despite the blame and counter blame.
The Peace Women drum on their peace drums and they sing in the sunlight of day
In hope the winds their peaceful message will carry the power of thought powerful they say
They drum for peace amongst Humankind and for an end to violence everywhere
The poor in war zones those who suffer and they drum for a World that's more fair.
The Peace Women marvellous people let's hope in their quest they succeed
For a peaceful and a better World their energy something we need
They drum and sing for the murdered war children and the mothers who mourn their loss
Their burden of sorrow is heavy they need help to shoulder their cross.
The Peace Women drum on their peace drums they are putting their message out there
Their message that may enlighten peace wreckers and their damaged souls may repair
They drum and sing in the park in the sunshine in the cool shadow of the trees
And their message of peace it is carried away in the freshening breeze
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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