The Recruit
Leave your home behind, lad,
And reach your friends your hand,
And go, and luck go with you
While Ludlow tower shall stand.
Oh, come you home of Sunday
When Ludlow streets are still
And Ludlow bells are calling
To farm and lane and mill,
Or come you home of Monday
When Ludlow market hums
And Ludlow chimes are playing
"The conquering hero comes,"
Come you home a hero,
Or come not home at all,
The lads you leave will mind you
Till Ludlow tower shall fall.
And you will list the bugle
That blows in lands of morn,
And make the foes of England
Be sorry you were born.
And you till trump of doomsday
On lands of morn may lie,
And make the hearts of comrades
Be heavy where you die.
Leave your home behind you,
Your friends by field and town:
Oh, town and field will mind you
Till Ludlow tower is down.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
When I Came Last to Ludlow
When I came last to Ludlow
Amidst the moonlight pale,
Two friends kept step beside me,
Two honest friends and hale.
Now Dick lies long in the churchyard,
And Ned lies long in jail,
And I come home to Ludlow
Amidst the moonlight pale.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lads in Their Hundreds
The lads in their hundreds to Ludlow come in for the fair,
There's men from the barn and the forge and the mill and the fold,
The lads for the girls and the lads for the liquor are there,
And there with the rest are the lads that will never be old.
There's chaps from the town and the field and the till and the cart,
And many to count are the stalwart, and many the brave,
And many the handsome of face and the handsome of heart,
And few that will carry their looks or their truth to the grave.
I wish one could know them, I wish there were tokens to tell
The fortunate fellows that now you can never discern;
And then one could talk with them friendly and wish them farewell
And watch them depart on the way that they will not return.
But now you may stare as you like and there's nothing to scan;
And brushing your elbow unguessed-at and not to be told
They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage of man,
The lads that will die in their glory and never be old.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Terence, This is Stupid Stuff
"Terence, this is stupid stuff!
You eat your victuals fast enough;
There can't be much amiss, 'tis clear,
To see the rate you drink your beer.
But oh, good Lord, the verse you make,
It gives a chap the belly-ache!
The cow, the old cow, she is dead;
It sleeps well, the horned head...
We poor lads, 'tis our turn now
To hear such tunes as killed the cow!
Pretty friendship 'tis to rhyme
Your friends to death before their time
Moping melancholy mad!
Come, pipe a tune to dance to, lad!"
Why, if 'tis dancing you would be,
There's brisker pipes than poetry.
Say, for what were hop-yards meant,
Or why was Burton built on Trent?
Oh many a peer of England brews
Livelier liquor than the Muse,
And malt does more than Milton can
To justify God's ways to man.
Ale, man, ale's the stuff to drink
For fellows whom it hurts to think:
Look into the pewter pot
To see the world as the world's not.
And faith, 'tis pleasant till 'tis past:
The mischief is that 'twill not last.
Oh I have been to Ludlow fair
And left my necktie God knows where,
And carried half way home, or near,
Pints and quarts of Ludlow beer:
Then the world seemed none so bad,
And I myself a sterling lad;
And down in lovely muck I've lain,
Happy till I woke again.
Then I saw the morning sky:
Heigho, the tale was all a lie;
The world, it was the old world yet,
I was I, my things were wet,
And nothing now remained to do
But begin the game anew.
Therefore, since the world has still
Much good, but much less good than ill,
And while the sun and moon endure
Luck's a chance, but trouble's sure,
I'd face it as a wise man would,
And train for ill and not for good.
'Tis true, the stuff I bring for sale
Is not so brisk a brew as ale:
Out of a stem that scored the hand
I wrung it in a weary land.
But take it: if the smack is sour,
The better for the embittered hour;
It should do good to heart and head
When your soul is in my soul's stead;
And I will friend you, if I may,
In the dark and cloudy day.
There was a king reigned in the East:
There, when kings will sit to feast,
They get their fill before they think
With poisoned meat and poisoned drink.
He gathered all the springs to birth
From the many-venomed earth;
First a little, thence to more,
He sampled all her killing store;
And easy, smiling, seasoned sound,
Sate the king when healths went round.
They put arsenic in his meat
And stared aghast to watch him eat;
They poured strychnine in his cup
And shook to see him drink it up:
They shook, they stared as white's their shirt:
Them it was their poison hurt.
--I tell the tale that I heard told.
Mithridates, he died old.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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When Smoke Stood Up From Ludlow
When smoke stood up from Ludlow,
And mist blew off from Teme,
And blithe afield to ploughing
Against the morning beam
I strode beside my team,
The blackbird in the coppice
Looked out to see me stride,
And hearkened as I whistled
The trampling team beside,
And fluted and replied:
"Lie down, lie down, young yeoman;
What use to rise and rise?
Rise man a thousand mornings
Yet down at last he lies,
And then the man is wise."
I heard the tune he sang me,
And spied his yellow bill;
I picked a stone and aimed it
And threw it with a will:
Then the bird was still.
Then my soul within me
Took up the blackbird's strain,
And still beside the horses
Along the dewy lane
It sang the song again:
"Lie down, lie down, young yeoman;
The sun moves always west;
The road one treads to labour
Will lead one home to rest,
And that will be the best."
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Table 19
Anna Kendrick, Amanda Crew, Wyatt Russell, Lisa Kudrow, Maria Thayer, Stephen Merchant, Tony Revolori, Thomas Cocquerel, Elizabeth Ludlow
from Table 19 (2017)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Old Home Place
Its been ten long years since I left my home in the hollow where I was born
Where the cool fall nights make the woods smell right and the fox hunter blows him horn
I fell in love with a girl from the town, I thought that she would be true
I ran away to charlottsville and worked in a sawmill or two
What have they done to the old home place?
Why did they tear it down?
And why did I leave the plow in the field and look for a job in the town?
Now the girl ran off with somebody else, tarriffs took all my pay
And here I stand where the old home stood before they took it away
Now geese fly south and the cold wind blows as I stand here and hang my head
I lost my love and lost my home, and now I wish that I was dead
(chorus)
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sown Home Town
The world outside don't like us much,
'Cos they ain't got our classy touch,
But they ain't good enough to breathe,
This towns good air we make 'em leave
CHORUS
But it's no, no, no,
you really can't do that,
No, no, no,
down home town
No monkey business in this town,
Well who do you think you're pushing 'round,
This towns respectable and clean,
Just look around you'll see what I mean
CHORUS Repeat
Down home town
Down home town
Down home town
Down home town
Down home town
Down home town
CHORUS Repeat
We got the best town band around,
Just listen to their crazy sound
When they get hot they gonna blow,
You see them running every show
(I wish I was in the land of Dixie
Look Away...)
Down home town,
Gotta get down
Down home town
Gotta get down
Down home town
Down home town
Down home town
CHORUS
(I wish I was in the land of Dixie
Look Away...)
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nobody Home
I can tell by the way
There aint no lights in the windows
And by the way your curtains hang
Yeah, I know which way the wind blows
I said no, I said no, I said no, nobody home
Nobody home, nobody home
You went away, what a heavy load
You must have took it with you
Down and out, to no thanks to boat
But no one can get ya
I said no, I said no, I said no, aint nobody home
Nobody home, nobody home
I said nobody, nobody home
From the way that you act
I guess you havent been there
By the look in your eyes
Theres nobody been there
I said no, I said no, I said no, nobody home
Nobody home, nobody home
I said nobody, nobody, nobody home
Nobody home, nobody home
I said no, I said no, I said no no no, nobody home
Nobody home, nobody home
I said nobody, nobody home
Nobody home, nobody home
Aint nobody home, nobody home,
Nobody home
Nobody home
Nobody home
Nobody home
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Home Sweet Home
Met this girl called josephine and took her up on my machine
We had a little fun and now we got a little one
Had to get married, being chased out of town
Found ourselves a place to live, we put all our money down
Call it home sweet home, home sweet home
Eleven floors up in a tower block
Happy just to have a home
Ive gone and changed the lock on our home
Nothing really worked out right, things got broke,
They stayed that way
None of our friends came around at night and little sam got
No place to play
Weve got to get out of here, bill she said Ive been telling
You all the while
When I came home from work that night shed jumped out the
Window with our chiled
From our home sweet home, home sweet home
Just a place to take a rest, just a place ot make our nest
-- we call it our home
When the insurance money came through seemed dirty didnt
Know what to do
Took the cash went down the casino, down on the wheel
On the double
And I won, oh yes I won, like I never won before
Bought myself a country house with an antique carved
Oak door
It was home sweet home, home sweet home
Just a place to lay our head think of all those things we said
About in our home sweet home.
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Take Me Home
Now Im here all alone
Takin care of my own
Down in no mans land
Got no friend, got no dime
Only plenty of time
Wheres the saving hand?
I got that feeling to need
More and more attention
That is the fever, dont leave me alone
I got that feeling to make
More than conversation
That is the fever,
Wheres my home?
Take me home
Take me home
Take me home
Its not true what you see
Behind that mask thats not me
Try to reach my world
Cant you see Im so blind
Stay with me to change my mind
No more nightmares, girl
I got that feeling to need more
And more attention
That is the fever, dont leave me alone
I got that feeling to make more
Than conversation
That is the fever, wheres my home?
Take me home
Take me home
Take me home
I got that feeling to need more
And more attention
That is the fever, dont leave me alone
I got that feeling to make more
Than conversation
That is the fever,
Wheres my home?
Take me home
Take me home
Take me home
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When You Meet a Man from Your Own Home Town
Sing, O Muse, in treble clef,
A little song of the A.E.F.,
And pardon me, please, if I give vent
To something akin to sentiment.
But we have our moments Over Here
When we want to cry and we want to cheer;
And the hurrah feeling will not down
When you meet a man from your own home town.
It's many a lonesome, longsome day
Since you embarked from the U.S.A.,
And you met some men--it's a great big war--
From towns that you never had known before;
And you landed here, and your rest camp mate
Was a man from some strange and distant state.
Liked him? Yes; but you wanted to see
A man from the town where you used to be.
And then you went, by design or chance,
All over the well-known map of France;
And you yearned with a yearn that grew and grew
To talk with a man from the burg you knew.
And some lugubrious morn when
Your morale is batting about .110,
"Where are you from?" and you make reply,
And the O.D. warrior says, "So am I."
The universe wears a smiling face
As you spill your talk of the old home place;
You talk of the streets, and the home town jokes,
And you find that you know each other's folks;
And you haven't any more woes at all
Ad you both decide that the world is small--
A statement adding to its renown
When you meet a man from your own home town.
You may be among the enlisted men,
You may be a Lieut. or a Major-Gen.;
Your home may be up in the Chilkoot Pass,
In Denver, Col., or in Pittsfield, Mass.;
You may have come from Chicago, Ill.,
Buffalo, Portland, or Louisville--
But there's nothing, I'm gambling, can keep you down,
When you meet a man from your own home town.
* * * * *
If you want to know why I wrote this pome,
Well . . . I've just had a talk with a guy from home.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home Is Not Where The Heart Lies
Home is not where the heart lies.
Home is where there are too many sins to name.
Home is where I cry too many times.
Home has no meaning.
Home is where all of my woes lie.
Home has no love for me.
Home makes me sad.
Home I cannot stand.
Home is where I get picked on most.
Home is where I hate most.
Home I wish would disappear.
Home is only adding to more of my troubles.
Home is where all my family hates me.
Home is where my sister won’t leave me alone.
Home is where my step father won’t stop picking on me.
Home is where my mum won’t stop babying me.
Home is no longer home.
Home has too many things to think about.
Home has too many too many troubles.
Home is where I do secrets no-one knows about.
Home is where everyone lies.
Home is not where the heart lies.
poem by Ellie Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Carpenter's Son
"Here the hangman stops his cart:
Now the best of friends must part.
Fare you well, for ill fare I:
Live, lads, and I will die.
"Oh, at home had I but stayed
'Prenticed to my father's trade,
Had I stuck to plane and adze,
I had not been lost, my lads.
"Then I might have built perhaps
Gallows-trees for other chaps,
Never dangled on my own,
Had I left but ill alone.
"Now, you see, they hang me high,
And the people passing by
Stop to shake their fists and curse;
So 'tis come from ill to worse.
"Here hang I, and right and left
Two poor fellows hang for theft:
All the same's the luck we prove,
Though the midmost hangs for love.
"Comrades all, that stand and gaze,
Walk henceforth in other ways;
See my neck and save your own:
Comrades all, leave ill alone.
"Make some day a decent end,
Shrewder fellows than your friend.
Fare you well, for ill fare I:
Live lads, and I will die."
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ill Lead You Home
Words & music: michael w. smith and wayne kirkpatrick
Wandering the road of desperate life
Aimlessly beneath the barren sky
Leave it to me
Ill lead you home
So afraid that you will not be found
It wont be long before your sun goes down
Just leave it to me
Ill lead you home
Chorus:
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Just leave it to me - Ill lead you home
A troubled mind and a doubters heart
You wonder how you ever got this far
Leave it to me, Ill lead you home
Vultures of darkness ate the crumbs you left
And you got no way to retrace your steps
Just leave it to me
Ill lead you home
Chorus 2:
Hear me calling
Hear me calling
Youre lost and alone
Leave it to me
Ill lead you home
Chorus 2
So let it go and turn it over to
The one who chose to give his life for you
Leave it to me
Ill lead you home
So let it go and turn it over to
The one who chose to give his life for you
Just leave it to me
Ill lead you home
Leave it to me
Ill lead you home
Chorus 2
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Through the Wild Green Hills of Wyre
As through the wild green hills of Wyre
The train ran, changing sky and shire,
And far behind, a fading crest,
Low in the forsaken west
Sank the high-reared head of Clee,
My hand lay empty on my knee.
Aching on my knee it lay:
That morning half a shire away
So many an honest fellow's fist
Had well-nigh wrung it from the wrist.
Hand, said I, since now we part
From fields and men we know by heart,
For strangers' faces, strangers' lands,--
Hand, you have held true fellows' hands.
Be clean then; rot before you do
A thing they'll not believe of you.
You and I must keep from shame
In London streets the Shropshire name;
On banks of Thames they must not say
Severn breeds worse men than they;
And friends abroad must bear in mind
Friends at home they leave behind.
Oh, I shall be stiff and cold
When I forget you, hearts of gold;
The land where I shall mind you not
Is the land where all's forgot.
And if my foot returns no more
To Teme nor Corve nor Severn shore,
Luck, my lads, be with you still
By falling stream and standing hill,
By chiming tower and whispering tree,
Men that made a man of me.
About your work in town and farm
Still you'll keep my head from harm,
Still you'll help me, hands that gave
A grasp to friend me to the grave.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Leave Home
Like a ghost dont need a key
Your best friend I've come to be
Please don't think of getting up for me
You don't even need to speak
When I've been here for just one day
You'll already miss me if I go away
So close the blinds and shut the door
You won't need other friends anymore
Oh don't leave home, oh don't leave home
If you're cold I'll keep you warm
And If you're lost just hold on
Cause I will be your safety
Oh don't leave home
I arrived when you were weak
I'll make you weaker, like a child
Now all your love you give to me
When your heart is all I need
Oh don't leave home, oh don't leave home
If you're cold I'll keep you warm
And If you're lost just hold on
Cause I will be your safety
Oh don't leave home
Oh how quiet, quiet the world can be
When it's just you and little me
Everything is clear and everything is new
So you won't be leaving will you
If you're cold I'll keep you warm
And If you're lost just hold on
Cause I will be your safety
Oh don't leave home
Cause I will be your safety
I will be your safety
I will be your safety
Oh don't leave home
song performed by by Dido
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im Going Back Home
Rudy stevenson
Im going back home where I was born
First I planned to stay but I cant live this way
Im going back home where I was born
Try to understand I think this citys grand
But with all its charme give me the little country farm
Im going back home where I was born
Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah now oh yeah
I tell you all about it I think you ought to know
Tell you all about it why I wanna go
I miss the country preacher and the house of prayer
I miss the bootlegger smelling in the air
Miss friendly faces and the country smiles
The crickets singing you can hear it for miles
Miss the rooster crowing at the break of dawn
Yes it all happens where I was born
Miss the fried chicken colored greens
Miss the hot biscuits and the lima beans
Miss the prayer meeting where the people pray
With the drum beating till the break of day
You can have it you can have it
You can have it you can have it
You can have thy town I wont be around
This here lifes too fast but ll never never last
Im going back home where I was born
I got to go home got to go home
Where the people are real people can feel
Got to go down got to go down
Leave here today on my way so long so long
Going back home going back home
Got to go home got to go home
Got to go home got to go home
Where I where I was born
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Was a Famous Victory
It was a summer evening;
Old Kaspar was at home,
Sitting before his cottage door--
Like in the Southey pome--
And near him, with a magazine,
Idled his grandchild, Geraldine.
"Wy don't you ask me," Kaspar said
To the child upon the floor,
"Why don't you ask me what I did
When I was in the war?
They told me that each little kid
Would surely ask me what I did.
"I've had my story ready
For thirty years or more."
"Don't bother, Grandpa," said the child;
"I find such things a bore.
Pray leave me to my magazine,"
Asserted little Geraldine.
Then entered little Peterkin,
To whom the gaffer said:
"You'd like to hear about the war?
How I was left for dead?"
"No. And, besides," declared the youth,
"How do I know you speak the truth?"
Arose the Wan, embittered man,
The hero of this pome,
And walked, with not unsprightly step,
Down to the Soldiers' Home,
Where he, with seven other men,
Sat swapping lies till half-past ten.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Going Home
Writers: leo sayer & alan tarney
No crying no sighing Im going home
Im leaving no grieving Im going home
And theres no one here
And theres nothing here gonna turn me around
Been a lifetime here full of doubt and fear
Been the talk of the town
Im going home
Im going home
Im going home
Im smiling Im flying Im going home
No sad face no suitcase Im going home
And Im thinking back
To the girl I left is she waiting for me
When I left my heart wasnt in my hands
Is she waiting home for me
When I get home
When I get home
When I get home
I know my friends will be there
And they will welcome me
Ill wash away these memories
From these dirty streets
When I get home
When I get home
When I get home
When I get home
Im dreaming Im scheming Im going home
Im racing times wasting Im going home
And I see my home and I see my dream
I see everyone there
Going right back down to when I was free
And I hadnt a care
Im going home
Im going home
Im going home
And in my babys eyes
I see joy and pride
Uncover all those lies
That I left behind
When I get home
And I see my home and I see my dream
I see everyone there
Going right back down to when I was free
And I hadnt a care
When I get home
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ben Boyd's Tower
Ben Boyd's Tower is watching—
Watching o’er the sea;
Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting
For her and me.
We do not know the day,
We do not know the hour,
But we know that we shall meet
By Ben Boyd’s Tower.
Moonlight peoples Boyd Tower,
Mystic are its walls;
Lightly dance the lovers
In its haunted halls.
Ben Boyd’s Tower is watching—
Watching o’er the foam;
Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting
Till the “Wanderer” comes home.
O! he lay above us—
High above the surf—
Finger-nails and toe-caps
Digging in the turf.
We do not know the day,
We do not know the hour,
But Two and Two shall meet again
By Ben Boyd’s Tower.
There’s an ancient dame in Eden—
Basket on her arm—
And she goes down the Main Street
From the old, old farm.
Hood drawn on her forehead—
Withered dame and grey—
She never looks on Boyd Tower
Out across the Bay.
Bright eyes in the ballroom,
Coquetting with two,
Just for love of mischief,
As a girl will do.
A quarrel in the bar-room—
All within the hour—
And four men rode from Boyd Town
To Ben Boyd’s Tower.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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