I was born in Bournemouth, England, in 1943.
quote by J. Philippe Rushton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Eisenhower
We are all creatures of the age into
which we were born.
Eisenhower let millions of Russians
die fighting the Nazis in 1942 and 1943.
He ordered cats shot on the White House
grounds.
He for many years patronized the segregating
sands of the Augusta George country club
which hosts the golf masters' tournament.
And yet if he were born in the last 18 years,
he probably would be involved in no violence.
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Pro Rege Nostro
WHAT have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful Sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice again
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England: --
'Take and break us: we are yours,
England, my own!
Life is good, and joy runs high
Between English earth and sky:
Death is death; but we shall die
To the Song on your bugles blown, England --
To the stars on your bugles blown!'
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mailed hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies,
You could know nor dread nor ease,
Were the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword,
There's the menace of the Word
In the Song of your bugles blown, England --
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Ripoff
I don't wanna be no traitor to the cause
But England is a luxury - not many can afford
There's people going under - it's getting out of hand
Whatever happened to our - our green and pleasant land?
It turned into a wilderness; it turned into a third world country
Most people ain't getting what they pay for
Some people gettin' more than they should be
I know, I know - I'm an alien - but what are you gonna do
I wanna live in England - but it gets to you
It gets to you, it gets to you, it gets to you
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
I really don't know why - England wants to rip off you
England wants to rip off you, England wants to rip off you
What do you do when you find out?
Where do you go if you leave?
There's no place like home - that's what they say
And that's what you always believed
Someday you might win the Lottery
Someday you might win the Pools
But that's all you've got - that's all you've got
- to live for, to live for
That's all you've got - that's all you've got -
to live for, to live for (yeah)
To be or not to be - that's the question
Oh what's it gonna be?
I'd love to live in England - but it gets to me
it gets to me, it gets to me, yeah it gets to me
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
I really don't know why - England wants to rip off you
England wants to rip off you, England wants to rip off you
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
Oh I really don't know why - England wants to rip off
England wants to rip off , England wants to rip o
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Have I Done For You
What have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful Sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice agen
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England:-
'Take and break us: we are yours,
'England, my own!
'Life is good, and joy runs high
'Between English earth and sky:
'Death is death; but we shall die
'To the Song on your bugles blown,
'England -
'To the stars on your bugles blown!
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mailed hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies
You could know nor dread nor ease
Were the Song on your bugles blown,
England,
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient sword,
There's the menace of the Word
In the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Oh England My Lionheart
Oh! england, my lionheart,
Im in your garden, fading fast in your arms.
The soldiers soften, the war is over.
The air raid shelters are blooming clover.
Flapping umbrellas fill the lanes--
My london bridge in rain again.
Oh! england, my lionheart!
Peter pan steals the kids in kensington park.
You read me shakespeare on the rolling thames--
That old river poet that never, ever ends.
Our thumping hearts hold the ravens in,
And keep the tower from tumbling.
Oh! england, my lionheart,
Oh! england, my lionheart,
Oh! england, my lionheart,
I dont want to go.
Oh! england, my lionheart!
Dropped from my black spitfire to my funeral barge.
Give me one kiss in apple-blossom.
Give me one wish, and Id be wassailing
In the orchard, my english rose,
Or with my shepherd, wholl bring me home.
Oh! england, my lionheart,
Oh! england, my lionheart,
Oh! england, my lionheart,
I dont want to go.
Oh! england, my lionheart,
Oh! england, my lionheart,
Oh! england, my lionheart,
I dont want to go.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegy in a Country Churchyard
The men that worked for England
They have their graves at home:
And bees and birds of England
About the cross can roam.
But they that fought for England,
Following a falling star,
Alas, alas for England
They have their graves afar.
And they that rule in England,
In stately conclave met,
Alas, alas for England,
They have no graves as yet.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Elegy in a Country Churchyard
The men that worked for England
They have their graves at home:
And bees and birds of England
About the cross can roam.
But they that fought for England,
Following a falling star,
Alas, alas for England
They have their graves afar.
And they that rule in England,
In stately conclave met,
Alas, alas for England,
They have no graves as yet.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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England, My England
WHAT have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice agen
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England:--
'Take and break us: we are yours,
England, my own!
Life is good, and joy runs high
Between English earth and sky:
Death is death; but we shall die
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
To the stars on your bugles blown!'
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mail'd hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies,
You could know nor dread nor ease
Were the Song on your bugles blown,
England,
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword,
There 's the menace of the Word
In the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When We Get To England
When we get to england
Will we know when weve arrived?
When we get to england
Will we know if she has died?
Does the girl with the dogs
Still live in the big house
On the corner?
Are the boys collecting frogs
Still marching away
To die in war?
Like its all from a dream
Like its all from some history book
Didnt look too hard
Did I miss something that I should have seen?
When we get to england
Will it still be there?
When we get to england
Will we know where weve arrived?
When we get to england
Will a kiss bring her alive?
Once a farmer in the field
Had to grow enough
To feed his family
Now they pay him for his yield
Just to burn it down
And throw away
Like its all from a dream
Like its all in a crystal ball
Did it fall so hard?
Rest in pieces on a village green
When we get to england
Will it still be there?
When we get to england
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Thoughts from Abroad
April in England–daffodils are growing
By every wayside, golden, tall and fair;
April–and all the little winds are blowing
The scents of springtime through the sunny air.
April in England–God, that we were there!
April in England–and her sons are lying
On these red fields, and dreaming of her shore;
April–we hear the thrushes' songs replying
Each unto each, above the cannons' roar;
April in England–shall we see it more?
April in England–there's the cuckoo calling
Down in her meadows where the cowslip gleams;
April–and little showers are softly falling,
Dimpling the surface of her babbling streams;
April in England–how the shrapnel screams!
April in England–blood and dust and smother,
Screaming of horses, men in agony.
April–full many of thy sons, O Mother,
Never again those dewy dawns shall see.
April in England–God, keep England free!
poem by Norah M. Holland
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Made In England
I was made in England
Out of cadillac muscle
I had a quit-me father
I had a quit-me mother
I had a little Richard
And that black piano
Oh that sweet Georgia peach
And the boy from Tupelo-
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
I was made in England
Out of cadillac muscle
Face down on the playground
Crying god send me a brother
Not a bloody nose
For Rock-┬┤n┬┤-Roll
Give me that sweet Georgian peach
And the boy from Tupelo
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
I was made in England
Like a blue Cortina
But a Yankee summer
Had a way about her
You had a scent for scandal
Well here┬┤s my middle finger
I had forty years of pain
And nothing to cling to
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
If you┬┤re made in England
You┬┤re biult to last
You can still say homo
And everybody laughs
But the joke┬┤s on you
You never read the song
They all think they know
But they┬┤ve all got wrong
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
Wow oh oh oh I was made in England
song performed by by Elton John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Born To Be Loved By You
Borne again.
Because have you at just being borne again.
At last I feel that Im alive and more.
This is the moment Ive waited for.
Born to be loved by you.born to be loved by you.
Born to walk with you.born to talk with you.
I was born for you.
Born to be with you, only you.
Born to be loved by you.
Born for you, born for you baby.
Born for you, born for you baby.
Born for you, born to be loved by you
(you and only you) born to be with only you.
I look at you and all at once I know that dreams come true.
For there you are the other part of me.
I have found my destiny.
Born to be loved by you.born to be loved by you.
Right or wrong for you.weak or strong for you.
Faithful or untrue
Born chained forever and far beyond.
Born to be loved by you and only you
No one else will do.
Heart and soul,born to be loved
Born to be loved.born to be loved by you.
(you and only you,born to be with only you)
Born for you.born for you baby.
Born for you.born for you baby.
Born for you, born for you baby..
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sir Richard's Song
(A. D. 1066)
I followed my Duke ere I was a lover,
To take from England fief and fee;
But now this game is the other way over--
But now England hath taken me!
I had my horse, my shield and banner,
And a boy's heart, so whole and free;
But now I sing in another manner--
But now England hath taken me!
As for my Father in his tower,
Asking news of my ship at sea,
He will remember his own hour--
Tell him England hath taken me!
As for my Mother in her bower,
That rules my Father so cunningly,
She will remember a maiden's power--
Tell her England hath taken me!
As for my Brother in Rouen City,
A nimble and naughty' page is he,
But he will come to suffer and pity--
Tell him England hath taken me!
As for my little Sister waiting
In the pleasant orchards of Normandie,
Tell her youth is the time for mating--
Tell her England hath taken me!
As for my comrades in camp and highway
That lift their eyebrows scornfully,
Tell them their way is not my way--
Tell them England hath taken me!
Kings and Princes and Barons famed,
Knights and Captains in your degree;
Hear me a little before I am blamed--
Seeing England hath taken me!
Howso great man's strength be reckoned,
There are two things he cannot flee.
Love is the first, and Death is the second-
And Love in England hath taken me!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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I didn't go nightclubbing much as a teenager in Bournemouth because my friends and I didn't have the money - but we spent a lot of time on the beach, having barbecues, and running into the sea in the middle of the night.
quote by Amanda Holden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Anvil
England's on the anvil--hear the hammers ring--
Clanging from the Severn to the Tyne!
Never was a blacksmith like our Norman King--
England's being hammered, hammered, hammered into line!
England's on the anvil! Heavy are the blows!
(But the work will be a marvel when it's done.)
Little bits of Kingdoms cannot stand against their foes.
England's being hammered hammered, hammered into one!
There shall be one people--it shall serve one Lord--
(Neither Prist nor Baron shall escape!)
It shall have one speech and law, soul and strength and sword.
England's being hammered, hammered, hammered into
shape!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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I went into the Air Corps from 1943 through 1945.
quote by Bobby Thomson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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England Isn't England
Why go to war
When England isn't England any more?
I don't like to complain
Or say those soldiers died in vain,
Who died for us before;
Each hero turning in his grave
Because we didn't save
The honour he was fighting for!
Gone to the dogs,
Gone to the swine and hogs,
Who in their greed and rage
Are now Our Leaders in this Plastic Age;
Dishonouring those years,
Laughing at our fears,
Promoting their careers,
Devaluing the coinage of our heroes' tears;
Oh no, don't go to war,
England isn't England anymore!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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I Was Not When You Were Born, You Were Old When I Was Born
I was not when you were born,
You were old when I was born.
You regret that I was late born,
I regret that you were early born.
I was not when you were born,
You were old when I was born.
I wished to have been born together,
We could enjoy our time together.
You were not when I was born,
I was old when you were born.
I was so far away from you,
You were so distant from me.
You were not when I was born,
I was old when you were born.
I’d become a flower-seeking butterfly,
And sleep on the fragrant grass every night.
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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A War Hero's Lament
Don't fight for England anymore,
Don't fight for the chaps at the corner store,
Just go back home and close the door
'Cos England isn't England anymore.
Don't boast you're British, they'll deplore
Your ancestry and what is more
They'll kick you out, show you the door
'Cos England isn't England anymore.
They'll tell you you are just like them,
They'll laugh at you and then condemn
Your Anglo-Saxon attitude
And tell you it is very crude.
Don't blame them, they don't understand
Devotion to a fatherland:
They're here to make the very most
Of everything that you have lost.
(The cunning reader may detect
I'm not 'politically correct',
Well that is true - that's why I choose
To sing these PATRIOTIC blues! !)
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Sir Christopher Wren 1632-1723
In the archives may be seen
a well-known name, an evergreen.
Professor of Astronomy at Oxford,
the great and famous Architect
.... Sir Christopher Wren....
After the Great Fire of London
in sixteen sixty-six, Sir Christopher
designed St. Paul's Cathedral
and many other London churches
and buildings; there was no ending
to his achievements.
Born in England,
he died in England,
and today we honour such
a great name from history.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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