How M'Ginnis went missing
Let us cease our idle chatter,
Let the tears bedew our cheek,
For a man from Tallangatta
Has been missing for a week.
Where the roaring flooded Murray
Covered all the lower land,
There he started in a hurry,
With a bottle in his hand.
And his fate is hid for ever,
But the public seem to think
That he slumbered by the river,
'Neath the influence of drink.
And they scarcely seem to wonder
That the river, wide and deep,
Never woke him with its thunder,
Never stirred him in his sleep.
As the crashing logs came sweeping,
And their tumult filled the air,
Then M'Ginnis murmured, sleeping,
`'Tis a wake in ould Kildare.'
So the river rose and found him
Sleeping softly by the stream,
And the cruel waters drowned him
Ere he wakened from his dream.
And the blossom-tufted wattle,
Blooming brightly on the lea,
Saw M'Ginnis and the bottle
Going drifting out to sea.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
River
(orbison/dees)
Roly-oly on now, river
Roly-oly on your way
Roly-oly on now river
Wash my cares away
River so wide and so deep
Wake the sandman from his sleep
River remind him
He has a promise to keep
Roll on, mighty river
Running wild and free
Get along now, river
Bring a dream to me
Hey now, river
Go down, river
Dont slow down, river
Bring a dream for me
Roly-oly on now, river
Roly-oly on your way
Roly-oly on now river
Take my troubles away
Robin hood river, roll on
Go steal a dream from the dawn
River, youll find me
Where all the dreamers have gone
Roll on, mighty river
Running wild and free
Get along now, river
And bring a dream to me
Hey now, river
Go down, river
Dont slow down, river
Bring that dream for me
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The River
WHY hurry, little river,
Why hurry to the sea?
There is nothing there to do
But to sink into the blue
And all forgotten be.
There is nothing on that shore
But the tides for evermore,
And the faint and far-off line
Where the winds across the brine
For ever, ever roam
And never find a home.
Why hurry, little river,
From the mountains and the mead,
Where the graceful elms are sleeping
And the quiet cattle feed?
The loving shadows cool
The deep and restful pool;
And every tribute stream
Brings its own sweet woodland dream
Of the mighty woods that sleep
Where the sighs of earth are deep,
And the silent skies look down
On the savage mountain's frown.
Oh, linger, little river,
Your banks are all so fair,
Each morning is a hymn of praise,
Each evening is a prayer.
All day the sunbeams glitter
On your shallows and your bars,
And at night the dear God stills you
With the music of the stars.
poem by Frederick George Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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That Quick Little Brown Dog
that quick little brown dog
jumps over the fence
near the bank of the river,
it is not your dog,
but you happen to be there when it
jumped,
over the fence near the bank of the river
into the river
that deep river with a overrunning
of the water
the dog was struggling to swim back
to the safety of the bank
but it failed and the dog was taken away
by the river and
it was gone,
you wonder why until now you think about that
dead dog
it is not yours but it sticks to your mind
as though it is yours
somehow you think as though you own it
and that you feel so painful about such loss
and you cannot sleep
and then you dream about that quick little brown dog
that drowned
it is barking so hard trying to be alive again
you wake up
with lots of cold sweat
somehow you think again
inside that dream
the face of the quick little brown dog
that jumped over the fence
into the deep river
is yours.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Washing Of The Water
River, river carry me on
Living river carry me on
River, river carry me on
To the place where I come from
So deep, so wide, will you take me on your back for a ride
If I should fall, would you swallow me deep inside
River, show me how to float
I feel like Im sinking down
Thought that I could get along
But here in this water
My feet wont touch the ground
I need something to turn myself around
Going away, away towards the sea
River deep, can you lift up and carry me
Oh roll on though the heartland
til the sun has left the sky
River, river carry me high
til the washing of the water make it all alright
Let your waters reach me like she reached me tonight
Letting go, its so hard
The way its hurting now
To get this love untied
So tough to stay with thing
cause if I follow through
I face what I denied
I get those hooks out of me
And I take out the hooks that I sunk deep in your side
Kill that fear of emptiness, loneliness I hide
River, oh river, river running deep
Bring me something that will let me get to sleep
In the washing of the water will you take it all away
Bring me something to take this pain away
song performed by by Peter Gabriel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Can Streams Flow Along The River Sides?
Can the streams run upto the oceans far?
Can they run along the side of the rivers known?
You were a river and I a stream
Who flowed together once.
Using the sixth sense I read your mind
The one none could read before.
Each line written on your mind
Unveiled a portrait painted never.
You were a river and I a stream..
Aside my failing senses old
Triumphed my sixth sense young.
You, the river got flooded
And I, the stream was drowned.
Denouncing the last reason left you kept even my soul off-
An act someone else could have done.
Each word spoken at my funeral often
Unravelled the mystery of your mind.
Along the side of the river of your ego,
May I flow as a stream entwining you ever in the next life too?
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Still Standing On You Feet?
When first I came to Jesus
The river was ankle deep
It cooled me in the day time
Yet still I was upon my feet
I went further down the river
And to my knees I went in deep
I could see a little clearer
Yet still I was upon my feet
I traveled down still further
And in the river went waist deep
Now I felt the river pulling
Yet still I was upon my feet
I decided to go deeper
Fully abandoned, no retreat
I was swept into the river
No longer standing on my feet
Now the river takes me
In the way that I must go
No longer do I choose the path
It's in the river that I flow
Now everywhere the waters go
It brings healing to the land
And now the Lord can use me
For I no longer stand.
poem by Frank McEleny
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Down in the deep water..
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where I ponder my life
Just how did I get to this
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where the waterfall of dreams
Sweeps away what’s left to the abyss
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where time stands still
just only forever.
Down in the deep water
By the edge of the river
Where I buried all
That was ever my childhood
Where I let it go,
Where it bends and meanders,
Twisting along as the years went past.
Seemingly calm, but screaming beneath the surface
Were its hidden whirlpools, a sweeping current
Down in the deep water,
I left the edge of the river,
As I looked down
For my soul at the bottom.
Deep in the deep water
Swept away by the river
I drowned in life,
......Sinking forever.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The River of Blood
It’s the river of blood
Initiated by the enemies of God
And when advised too or told to stop
They just give you the nod
The nod of ignorance and cruelty
The nod of no life and no feel
As they are told about they’re evilness
They believe that none of it is real
It’s the river of blood
That flows down a dark and red stream
And as I dip my hand in, it feels like sour, bitter cream
It’s the river of blood
The river of cruelty and pain
The river of blood
The river that flows in vain
The river that will never end
The river full of the dead
The river where they remain silently hopeless
The river where the majority of them bled
It’s this river of blood where I inject my power and strength from
It’s this river full of blood where my victory will soon come
The river of blood, the river that will soon contain me
It’s this river where my blood has long sought to be
The river of blood that shall soon end with an atrocious fight
The river of blood, the river that will no longer stay at sight.
poem by Marria Attar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Boy With His Bottle
Tears flow like a river
Only to deliver
A message in a bottle
As it floats away...
The Boy playing by the river
Soon finds what He thinks
Is a bottle of Joy...
The Pain scribbled paper
Only becomes greater
As the boy saved it for later
Laying on his bedroom floor
If only He could read that Letter
It would make things better
For He would heed the warning
Of the coming storm...
10/15/2009
poem by Ismael Iniguez Carvajal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Unending River
The land is flooded with tears
Tears that are made of joy, love and happiness
Swimming through this wonderful river of tears
Tears that are not made out of sorrow or hatred
How wonderful it is to be loved
How wonderful it is to be loved by you
You filled my heart with happiness
And together we built this river of Happiness
Made out of tears of joy
I love you so much my dear
You showed me not just a piece of art
But you showed me the beauty of the world
Thank you for the warmth and comfort you are giving
Together, we row our boat through the river
The river that is made by our love
The love that would last forever....
Let us sail through this love
Nothing can stop us
Let us have this journey together
And discover the mystery of this
Unending river of love
poem by Karima Puzon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Daddy The Kern River And Me
When I was just a little girl
My daddy said it's time
To show you where I go to think
on a favorite river of mine.
But first you have to promise me
that no one else will know
Where this secret place is
Where nobody else goes.
We stood upon a rock that lies
just over the roaring white waters.
That's so very hard to get to and
that's why no others bother.
The river, called The Kern River has
always been our favorite spot
To go and think, and enjoy the peace
And we went there quite alot.
Some day I hope to go back to the
river where daddy took me.
And stand upon that same old rock
and dream of how things use to be.
The Kern River holds a memory of
the first man I ever loved.
And now I've found another man that
I am sure was sent from above.
I LOVE YOU DADDY
poem by Dianna Nally
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Raging River
The river rages through the land
Cutting the earth with its mighty hand
Digging the canyons across the face of time
Revealing a land that is intertwined
The river brings life as it moves along
The animals drink from it and makes them strong
The river is a roadway, where great boats do ride
The river is mighty and has great pride
The river takes and gives what it sees fit
Many a great tribe stands in awe of it
Even the great river takes time to rest
Knowing it has done it’s very best
There is a raging river flowing through you and me
It cuts through our soul, setting the spirit free
Let the river flow, do not dam it up
Feel the never ending energy, drink from it’s cup
Let your river flow outward and keep in mind
As it cuts through each one, we are all intertwined
poem by L.T. Padgett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lovers' Walk
BY the slowly flowing river
Lies the old, shadowed walk,
Where the lovers, two and two,
Ere the falling of the dew,
Of the sweetest thing on earth in the soft shadows talk.
For, though honey has a sweetness,
As the tasting palate knows,
Yet young love is sweeter, sure,
Than the honey, pale and pure,
That the brown bee gets from the heart of the rose.
Though there's music in the waters
And the singing of the birds,
Yet a richer music dwells
In the tale each couple tells
In that scene of green enchantment, as they put their hearts in words.
Though they have not throne or sceptre,
They are kings and queens, in truth;
And their realm is all their own,
And they rule in it alone,
For the wonder and the splendour of the world belong to youth.
Neither man nor maid may hasten,
Neither man nor maid may baulk
The river on its way,
As it murmurs, day by day,
By the singing, scented places of the old Lovers' Walk.
There the wattle has its season,
And the lily flames awhile,
And the pink boronia blooms,
And the orchid lights the glooms
Of the deep, green gully and the far forest aisle.
There the wattle fades and withers,
And the lily on its stalk;
But new couples, wreathed and crowned,
Through the seasons round and round
Dream their dreams, link their hands on the old Lovers' Walk.
There they tell the one tale over
And they plight again their troth,
And they bend above the stream
In the sunset's dying gleam;
It might seem the river cares not, yet the river mirrors both.
Oh, how many happy lovers
Has that gleaming river glassed!
Oh, what folk alight with joy,
Dancing girl, and glowing boy,
Youth and Beauty linked together in the dim, sweet past!
Now a frond goes down the current,
Now a flower the eddies turn,
But the lovers never sigh
As they watch them drifting by,
Nor bethink them of the moments that are like to flower and fern.
Yet a hungry sea is calling,
Though a distant sea it be;
And the lovers' golden hours
Are as drifting ferns and flowers,
And a river, not their river, takes them onward to the sea.
Oh, the splendour, and the raptures,
And the hours of rose and rhyme!
Oh, the passion-thirst that sips
At the fount of rosy lips!
Oh, the slowly-moving waters of the river like to Time!
As the fading of the wattle
Or the lily on its stalk,
Or the dewdrop from the grass,
So the glory goes, alas,
From the sweet dreams dreamt on the old Lovers' Walk.
poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Muddy River
I stand upon the bank of the muddy river in awe of what I see.
The river’s roaring waters stumble over each other, rolling beneath its awesome force.
The river widens as the earth crumbles into it.
The power of the river amazes me; its shear force astonishes me,
And its quick movements mesmerize.
My mind drifts with the waters flow,
Traveling further and further downstream.
poem by John Miller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sinking..
Down in the water
By the edge of the river
where I ponder my life
just how did I get to this
Down in the water
By the edge of the river
where the waterfall of dreams
sweeps away what’s left to the abyss
Down in the water
by the edge of the river
where time stands still
Just only forever.
Down in the water
by the edge of the river
where I buried all
that was ever childhood
Where I let it go,
where it bends and meanders,
twisting along as the years went past.
Seemingly calm, but screaming beneath the surface
were its hidden whirlpools, a sweeping current
Down in the water,
I left the edge of the river,
as I looked down
for my soul at the bottom.
Deep in the water
Swept away by the river
I drowned in life,
......sinking forever.
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Harbour: To The Avon
Flow on, sweet river! like his verse
Who lies beneath this sculptured hearse;
Nor wait beside the churchyard wall
For him who cannot hear thy call.
Thy playmate once; I see him now
A boy with sunshine on his brow,
And hear in Stratford's quiet street
The patter of his little feet.
I see him by thy shallow edge
Wading knee-deep amid the sedge;
And lost in thought, as if thy stream
Were the swift river of a dream.
He wonders whitherward it flows;
And fain would follow where it goes,
To the wide world, that shall erelong
Be filled with his melodious song.
Flow on, fair stream! That dream is o'er;
He stands upon another shore;
A vaster river near him flows,
And still he follows where it goes.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Roll down, Long River (song)
Roll down, Long, Long River to the sea,
Call me, Long, Long River where I should be.
Sing me a lullaby
How to live and die.
Lark's song in the sky
Lets me survive…
Bring your mud mad waters to the East.
Are you tired, Long River, of the heartless lucky beasts?
Lonely tears and cries,
Cruel lies and crimes
You submerge as well,
You'll never tell…
Roll down, Long, Long River to the sea…
Call me, Long, Long River where I should be…
Roll down, Long, Long River…
Roll down, Long, Long River…
To the East…
poem by Galina Struchalina
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Muddy River
When the last rose of summer pricks my finger,
And the hot sun chills me to the bone,
When I cant hear the song for the singer,
And I cant tell my pillow from a stone,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own.
When the last bolt of sunshine hits the mountain,
And the stars start to splatter in the sky,
When the moon hits the southwest horizon,
With the scream of an eagle on the fly,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And listen to the ripples as they moan,
I will walk alone by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own.
Black muddy river, roll on forever,
I dont care how deep or wide, if youve got another side,
Roll muddy river, roll muddy river, black muddy river, roll.
When it seems like the night will last forever,
And theres nothing left to do but count the years,
When the strings of my heart begin to sever,
And stones fall from my eyes instead of tears,
I will walk alone, by the black muddy river,
And dream me a dream of my own,
I will walk alone, by the black muddy river,
And sing me a song of my own, sing me a song of my own.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No One Steps Twice On The River Of Life...
it is not the rage of this river.
when i was a child, as mother says,
i keep my finger inside my mouth
sucked by my throat, to keep hunger away
beside the bank of this river
i am the spectator
and the river believes in the magic
of my innocence
it flows always in a distant
affection,
it is not the rage of the river,
it is i, the grown up man who goes swimming
in the river and feel
the joys of its cool waters
always moving on towards
a destination
it is the swimming with a friend
and then
with a lover and then with a wife
and then my silence,
what we do not have we force to forget
it is the bathing in the river
the rinsing and the cleansing of the waters
it is not the rage of this river
and then we become too weak to be in this river
the river moves on and on
towards the deepest sea looking for the
opening
i wait by the bank of this river
many things have been missed
the more important ones
the one that gives the posterity of
my humanity
it is denied of me because of this river
that gives me nothing
all the while i was the leaf that fell off from
the tree
on the side of this river
and i floated because i have nothing to do
because i can do nothing about
the flow of the river
i become the dead leaf that the air
rides upon
tossed and bumped on boulders
till i sink
deep down the river
that i shall pass only once.
time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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