En.Citatepedia^®.ro

When a nation's young men are conservative, its funeral bell is already rung.

quote by Henry Ward Beecher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Liberty Bell

The Liberty Bell which is a symbol of freedom
cracked as it was being rung.
Maybe its founders thought it would last
as it was being hung.

But the bell itself, did it know
that someday our liberty would crack?
Because it's inanimate doesn't mean it couldn't feel
that our nation would come under attack.

And so the bell that should have stayed solid
and be rung every day,
quietly cries and feels for its nation
as it sits on display.

Many file by it and never ask why
our liberties are tearing apart like the bell?
Maybe it's because we've never learned
what it's like in a living hell?

poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Funeral Bell

The funeral bell is ringing a reminder of our mortality
Farewelling a deceased soul one day 'twill ring for me
Ringing in the stillness of this cool Autumn day
Across the rural city in the morning damp and gray.

The funeral bell is pealing for one a last farewell
And few sounds sadder than the slow peals of the loud funeral bell
Above the streets and houses it echoes to the sky
For one bound for her or his last resting place the cemetery nearby.

The peewees in the town park distinctive in their call
And the magpie on a wattle pipe on this cool morning in the Fall
And for one who will not breathe again the eulogy is read
And the funeral bell is tolling in memory of the dead.

The funeral bell is ringing for one a last goodbye
And on the clock of our mortality the hours just seem to fly
Respect to the departed is all that we can pay
And for each and everyone of us a final night and day.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Cest La Vie

Words and music by chuck berry
It was a teenage wedding and the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre did truly love the mademoiselle
And now the young monsieur and madam have rung the chapel bell
Cest la vie say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell
They finished off an apartment with a two-room roebuck sale
The coolerator was jammed with tv dinners and ginger ale
And when pierre found work, the little money comin worked out well
Cest la vie say the old folks it goes to show you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono, boy did they let it blast
Seven hundred little records, all blues, rock, rhythm, and jazz
But when the sun went down, the volume went down as well
Cest la vie say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell
They bought a souped-up jitney, it was a cherry red 53
And drove it down to new orleans to celebrate their anniversary
It was there where pierre was wedded to the lovely mademoiselle
Cest la vie say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell
They had a teenage wedding and the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre did truly love the mademoiselle
And now the young monsieur and madam have rung the chapel bell

song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Never Can Tell

It was a teenage wedding
And the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre
Did truly love the mademoiselle.
And the young monsieur and madame
Have rung the chapel bell,
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
They furnished off an apartment
With a two room roebuck sale
The coolerator was filled
With t.v. dinners and ginger ale
But when pierre found work,
The little money comin worked out well
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
They had a hi-fi phono
Boy, did they let it blast
Seven hundred little records
All rock, rhythm and jazz
But when the sun went down
The rapid tempo of the music fell
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
They bought a souped up jitney
twas a cherry in fifty-three
They drove it down to new orleans
To celebrate their anniversary.
It was there where pierre was wedded
To the lovely mademoiselle,
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell
It was a teenage wedding
And the old folks wished em well
You could see that pierre
Did truly love the mademoiselle.
And the young monsieur and madame
Have rung the chapel bell,
Cest la vie,
-say the old folks
It goes to show that you never can tell

song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bell Tolls

The bell tolls not to alarm us
about a break of war
The bell tolls not to announce
the funeral of a great magician
The bell tolls not for classes
to start the school-year calendar.

But it is ringing for you and me
to bend our knees,
To intercede for our land
and for ourselves
The bell tolls to say a prayer
that opens up
avenues to God's love and mercy.

poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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God Give Me Strength

(words sung by the character in the movie given in brackets)
Now I have nothing, so God give me strength
cause Im weak in her [his] wake
And if Im strong I might still break
And I dont have anything to share
That I wont throw away into the air
That song is sung out
This bell is rung out [this belle is wrung out]
[he] she was the light that Id bless
[he] she took my last chance at happiness
So God give me strength, God give me strength
I cant hold onto [him] her, God give me strength
When the phone doesnt ring
And Im lost in imagining
Everything that kind of love is worth
As I tumble back down to the earth
That song is sung out
This bell is rung out
[he] she was the light that Id bless
[he] she took my last chance at happiness
So God give me strength,
God if [hed] shed grant me [his] her indulgence and decline
I might as well wipe [him] her from my memory
Fracture the spell as [he] she becomes my enemy
Maybe I was washed out like a lip-print on his shirt
See, Im only human, I want him to hurt
I want him
I want him to hurt
[instrumental]
Since I lost the power to pretend
That there could ever be a happy ending
That song is sung out
This bell is rung out
[he] she was the light that Id bless
[he] she took my last chance at happiness
So God give me strength, God give me strength

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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And truly, when you look at the Constitution and our founding fathers and their writings, the things that made this country great, you might draw those conclusions: That they were conservative. They were fiscally conservative and socially conservative.

quote by Sharron Angle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Afternoon in February

The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.

Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.

The snow recommences;
The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o'er the plain;

While through the meadows,
Like fearful shadows,
Slowly passes
A funeral train.

The bell is pealing,
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell;

Shadows are trailing,
My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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When the bell tolls

At times when I hear
a church bell that tolls,
I know that there
is more to life
than just living.

On a Sunday
the bell tolls almost endlessly,
(like a alarm clock)
before the service begins.

At times when I hear
a church bell that tolls,
it rings for a funeral
and I am glad
that I’m alive.

At a wedding
the bell sings a joyful song
and everyone smiles at each other
and wait for the bride to appear.

In the dead of night
the bell tolls lonely
no one cares about
the time that it keeps,
as sleep creeps deeper
into everybody’s soul.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Young Nation

[chorus]

Young nation under a groove
Keeping it smooth with a jazz that's so cool
Young nation under a groove keeping it smooth
Young nation under a groove
Keeping it smooth with a jazz that's so cool
Young nation under a groove keeping it smooth

[Verse 1]

As I'm strollin' down the park with really nothing on my mind
Laid back and I'm just thinkin' of old times
Pumpin' our Isley Brothers tape when I'm waxin'
Peepin' through my sapeau checkin' out my waxin'
Hey! I gotta say today's a good day for me the lover on the way
Ho! Time to hit the six-four
And pump the bass and I'm Just a little known
Aaliyah's in the house so I think you'd better check my flow
Hello! Hello!
I'm the young nation and young nation is me
So here we go from the one the two and to the three-ee-ee

[chorus]

[verse 2]

I check my celular because my beepers beepin'
Booty calls are creepin'
Fellas on the corner beepin' me (Wassup

song performed by by Aaliyah from Age Ain't Nothing But A Number
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im A Conservative

Pop
I used to lead a quiet life
In fact it was a bare existence
I passed out on many floors
I dont do that any more
Hello my friends
Is everybody happy?
Hey look me over
Lend me an ear
Im a conservative
I like the small black marks on my hands
Im a conservative
I like the crazy girls that I screw
Hey I know them all well
And when I run out of bread I laugh
All the way to the bank
Sometimes I pause for a drink
Conservatism aint no easy job
I smile in the mornings
I live without a care
Nothing is denied me
And nothing ever hurts
I got bored so Im making my millions
When youre conservative you get a better break
Youre always on the rigltt side
When youre conservative
You walk with pride
Pride is on your side
Pride pride pride
Is on our side
Oh boy
Pride is on our side
I like my beer
I like my bread
I love my girl
I love my head
Im in the clear man
Im in the dear
Because Im a conservative
Im a conservative
I really am
Ohyeslam
And it would mean so much to me
If you would only be like me
Yes it could mean so much to me
Hey look me over
Lend me an ear
Im a conservative

song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Can Hear The Funeral Bell

I can hear the funeral bell tolling in the church across the way
Calling in the family and friends of the deceased one for to pray
For the soul of the departed though what happens to the soul
When life's last breath we have taken would seem beyond our control,
Tolling slow and tolling loudly carrying in the freshening breeze
Out there in the sunlit Parkland birds are whistling on the trees
Life on Earth goes on as usual though to life people come and go
Though of a life after death it would seem none can say that they truly know,
Listening to the bell toll slowly makes me once again recall
My own very fragile mortality there's a last day for us all,
Life is brief the years go quickly time does not wait for you or I
And they say the longer we live the sooner we are going to die
And though the funeral bell is tolling in the house of prayer nearby
Swallows chirp above the Parkland in the bright and sunny sky.

poem by Francis Duggan
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My friends and my road-fellows, pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion. Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave, eats a bread it does not harvest, and drinks a wine that flows not from its own winepress. Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful. Pity the nation that raises not its voice save when it walks in a funeral, boasts not except among its ruins, and will rebel not save when its neck is laid between the sword and the block. Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox, whose philosopher is a juggler, and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking. Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpetings, and farewells him with hootings, only to welcome another with trumpetings again. Pity the nation divided into fragments, each fragment deeming itself a nation.

quote by Kahlil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Farewell Bell

The peals of the funeral bell echo to the calm sky
For someone today 'tis a final goodbye
And on some future date whenever that be
A similar bell will be ringing for me.

Free of the cares of life and of worry and fear
The farewell bell for him or for her the deceased one doesn't hear
By it's slow drawn out tolls it's not hard for to tell
That for someone the ringer rings the farewell bell.

The same fate for you and for me and for all
To the scythe of the Reaper we eventually must fall
Yet on a sunlit wattle the magpie does sing
And he care not if for one the farewell bell ring.

A beautiful morning the magpie in song
With the farewell bell he is singing along
And white butterflies dancing a beautiful sight
Around the blossoming trees in the warm sunlight

poem by Francis Duggan
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Funeral Bells

Watching your funeral to see the love,

Painless death, lack ring dove.

Who really cared,

ones who just stared?

End of life,

See deaths syth.

Say hello to hell,

Funeral bell.

Time to go,

Follow the crow.

Wave good bye,

Last sigh.

Does anyone see you?

Wondering who.

poem by Ailish Canning
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J. Milton Miles

Whenever the Presbyterian bell
Was rung by itself, I knew it as the Presbyterian bell.
But when its sound was mingled
With the sound of the Methodist, the Christian,
The Baptist and the Congregational,
I could no longer distinguish it,
Nor any one from the others, or either of them.
And as many voices called to me in life
Marvel not that I could not tell
The true from the false,
Nor even, at last, the voice that I should have known.

poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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The Bellman

He rang it in the marketplace,
He rang it in the street,
Old Silas was the Bellman
In the village of Purfleet,
He'd rung the bell for sixty years,
He'd rung the bell for war,
He'd rung it for the harvest
But would ring the bell no more!

The Mayor and all his councillors
Had met within the Hall,
Discussed the ponderous questions
That would bear upon them all,
Their gowns were trimmed with ermine
And the mayor, he wore his chain,
The solemn Majesty of State
Was heard in their refrain!

‘We must dismiss the Bellman, '
Said the hoary Abel Creep,
‘He rings it at the strangest times,
I just can't get to sleep! '
‘Agreed, ' said Horace Fumblewit,
It's more than time enough,
I thought that he'd be dead by this…'
‘Hear hear! ' said Toby Gruff.

They called him to the chamber
And delivered him the score,
Old Silas staggered back in shock,
They'd rocked him to the core!
He raised the bell above his head
And gave a mighty ‘Clang! '
Then jumped up on their table
Where they sat, their ears rang!

‘I've been the Bellman sixty years,
My father taught me then,
His father went before him, rang
The bell for Inkerman;
But way, way back before that time
My forebears had a stake,
They warned of the Armada,
Rang the bell for Francis Drake! '

He stomped along their table
In his coarse old hob-nailed boots,
He silenced their authority
To rule in mean disputes,
For every time a councillor
Would seek to raise his voice,
The bell would drown his utterance,
It gave them little choice!

‘There's been a Bellman in this burgh
Right back, before King John,
You think you petty underlings
Can rule once I am gone?
Your ancestors lie buried in
The gravel by the Church,
While mine live on in history…
I'll knock you off your perch!

He raised the bell and made it peal,
It rocked the ancient hall,
The walls shook with vibrations
‘Til the roof began to fall,
The beams came crashing down in a
Scenario from Hell,
‘Your time is not forever, ' cried
The man who rang the bell!

poem by David Lewis Paget
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Not All The Angels Of The Lord Are On The Highest Rung

Not all the angels of the Lord are on the highest rung-
I ascended on the ladder
But have not touched the top rung
And will not -

An angel of the middle and the bottom rows
I nonetheless sing out my praises to God -
While trying to climb higher,

Yet somewhere always
no matter how high I think I come
never touching the top rung.

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Cry of the fatherless son

I will not mourn my father's death
I won't even be struck by his death.
I will not contribute a coin to buy his coffin,
Or for the funeral which I won't even attend.
As is the custom,
I won't name my first son after him.
My children won't ever see photos of him.
I will not tell them tales
that my father supposedly told me.
His name in my house will never ring a bell,
Neither will he ring my doorbell -
For if he does I will let my dogs loose on him,
no matter how old and frail he'll be.
His name in my house shall be forbidden.

But how could I mourn your death?
How would your death strike me?
How could I contribute to your funeral?
Or attend your funeral?
As is custom,
how should I name my son after you?
And how would my children see your photos?
What tales did you tell me,
so I can tell them?
How could your name even ring a bell,
Or you ring my doorbell?
How would I let my dogs loose on you,
An old stranger that I haven't
My eyes set on?

Forgive me.

poem by Kimani wa Mumbi
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Across Kansas

My family slept those level miles
but like a bell rung deep till dawn
I drove down an aisle of sound,
nothing real but in the bell,
past the town where I was born.

Once you cross a land like that
you own your face more: what the light
struck told a self; every rock
denied all the rest of the world.
We stopped at Sharon Springs and ate--

My state still dark, my dream too long to tell.

poem by William Stafford
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