Life and Nature
I passed through the gates of the city,
The streets were strange and still,
Through the doors of the open churches
The organs were moaning shrill.
Through the doors and the great high windows
I heard the murmur of prayer,
And the sound of their solemn singing
Streamed out on the sunlit air;
A sound of some great burden
That lay on the world's dark breast,
Of the old, and the sick, and the lonely,
And the weary that cried for rest.
I strayed through the midst of the city
Like one distracted or mad.
'Oh, Life! Oh, Life!' I kept saying,
And the very word seemed sad.
I passed through the gates of the city,
And I heard the small birds sing,
I laid me down in the meadows
Afar from the bell-ringing.
In the depth and the bloom of the meadows
I lay on the earth's quiet breast,
The poplar fanned me with shadows,
And the veery sang me to rest.
Blue, blue was the heaven above me,
And the earth green at my feet;
'Oh, Life! Oh, Life!' I kept saying,
And the very word seemed sweet.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Related quotes
The Skylark's Message
SWEET little upturned faces,
Poor little hands and feet,
Little eyes that are careworn and anxious
From hunger and want in the street,
Hear ye that skylark singing
5
Like an angel far away?
'Tis bringing to you a message
From the Golden Gates of day.
Ah, little know ye of the meadows,
Poor little blistered feet,
10
Down in the smoke of the city,
Down in the noise of the street!
But it sings of a better country,
Where tired little hearts can rest;
Of a sun that shines for ever,
15
And the love of a Father's breast.
O poor little weary spirits,
I would that ye knew its song,
For the world is very heartless,
And your journey may be long;
20
And ye need such heavenly music
To cheer you in the night,
Little hearts that are now so noble,
Little souls that are now so white.
I would that ye heard it always,
25
That sweet bird's voice within,
When the heart is sad and lonely
In the long, long struggle with sin;
Till a rest comes out of the sunset
For the labouring hands and feet,
30
And a silence has fallen for ever
On the noise and the dust of the street.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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As I my steps
As I my steps
Along the grated streets
Of sweet Valletta I retraced
I passed from street to street
And I me thought that I could find
The dwelling where you lived.
For me those streets familiar quite
Became as dearer and dearer
As I from city street to street
My steps retraced their bearer
Aye! Aye! The streets became as dearer
And beautiful more than I had seen
For years and years before:
The pregnant windows frowning black
Unmoving ghosts in city pent
I wandered quite what did they hide
Behind their closed doors:
The small quaint front doors in the street
A few light inches the cobble stones above
With memories faint and dim
And with fast-fretting hither and thither
The hazy residents of those small abodes
Hid from my anxious questioning sight.
And as I passed along the street
A chimney high I saw smiling with glee
As it played child-like with white passing clouds
Above the warm sun shone on the old stones
That dreamt and dreamt and dreamt of years untold.
Aye! Aye! The city old
Above the harbor glideth
In my warm dreams:
The sailing clouds
Above the trees
In the small garden passing:
The green leaves
In their high towers
With each to each
In their wild love-making
To each and each are rustling:
The citizens in city streets
With hurried steps are passing.
And whither do they pass
And thither do they go?
The silent steps
In the small sullen street
I start descending
As if some thief to catch
That in some city nook
From me is hiding:
A lazy cat
Watches with half-open’d eye:
Little beyond
The stench of its urine
Drown’d by the sweet sense
Of roses pent in mortar cask
And hanging from the city wall.
Yes! Time is passing
In this sweet silent city of my dreams:
Let me allow it pass
Into the ocean sea-blue
That in midst of it
Like as in lover’s arms
My senses and myself will sink.
And I will not speak
And I will not sing
If not my lyre speaks
If not my lyre sings.
poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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The Deserted House
Life and Thought have gone away
Side by side,
Leaving door and windows wide.
Careless tenants they!
All within is dark as night:
In the windows is no light;
And no murmur at the door,
So frequent on its hinge before.
Close the door; the shutters close;
Or through the windows we shall see
The nakedness and vacancy
Of the dark deserted house.
Come away: no more of mirth
Is here or merry-making sound.
The house was builded of the earth,
And shall fall again to ground.
Come away: for Life and Thought
Here no longer dwell;
But in a city glorious -
A great and distant city -have bought
A mansion incorruptible.
Would they could have stayed with us!
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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In Memory of the Christchurch Earthquake NZ
United they stood on their Memorial Day,
Christchurch will rise up their Motto they say,
Our city shook beneath the Earths crust,
Bricks and Mortar have crumbled to dust,
Loved one's gone never to return,
Memories of horror like embers they burn,
Their city is weeping the ground is seeping,
Bodies lay beneath forever safekeeping,
Flashbacks haunt the one's left behind,
How could Mother Earth have been so unkind,
Historic Buildings crumbled to the power,
The City has lost the Cathedral Bell tower,
There prayers of mercy their congregation strong,
Church doors closed the organs sound is longed,
Our Garden City will bloom coming spring,
A Nation rejoicing a New City to begin,
People have rallied from places afar,
A gift of kindness how gracious we Kiwi's all are.
poem by Beverley Warren
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I Am Not Going To Tell You The Name Of The City
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which my steps are still searching for me.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
whose bridges are longer than life.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
under whom even the sky was like a tent.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I learned to start up a new journey as soon as I arrive.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
which is never to grow old.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I met the eyes with the color of the sky.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
in which I was knocking on my own doors from inside.
I am not going to tell you the name of the city
which was a cage far too small for my wings.
Vida Nenadic
poem by Vida Nenadic
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High In The City
I got the time, I got my feet
Lets go hit the street
High in the city
High in the city
I got my mace and you got your knife
You gotta protect your own life
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive here in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
Lets not walk down sutton place
You know everybody there got an akitas
High in the city
High in the city
Dont wanna talk politics today
I feel too good let me have my way
High in the city
High in the city
Watch out for that guy on your right
Seen him on the news last saturday night
He was high in the city
High in the city
Hey, look theyre setting fire to that jeep
Theres not much you can keep
High in the city
High in the city
I wanna get high in the city
I wanna stay alive in the city
I wanna stay high in the city
High in the city
High in the city
So many people feeling low
And theres only one way to go to
Get high in the city
High in the city
Lets grap a pie, lets hit the park
Ill kiss and hug you till it gets dark
Here in the city
Getting high in the city
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
(high in the city)
(high in the city and youre looking so pretty)
(feelin pretty witty, gettin high off of the city)
(hi-ai-ai-ai, high in the city)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Man You'd Best Go Back To Town
City man you'd best go back to town
If living in the country gets you down
And though the songbirds sing with voices sweet
You'd much prefer the noisy city street.
These rural towns are quiet as quiet can be
There's so little to do and less to see
Save go into a pub and drink your fill
And come out feeling much more lonely still.
Pleasant is the music of the thrushes
And fragrant is the scent of flowering bushes
Here the air is pure and free of taint
But you would rather live midst smoke and paint.
City man you miss your city kin
You've little in common with rural men,
You've little love for peaceful country life,
You'd much prefer to live where noise is rife.
You are like a fisherman ashore
He find inland life is quite a bore
Unhappy the poor fisherman will be
Until he returns to his beloved sea.
City man the city's calling you
Go bid the lonely countryside adieu,
Your urge for city living's always strong
It is where a man is raised that he belong.
City man go back to your own kind
And leave this sense of loneliness behind
Country life it isn't to your taste
Go back home to the city in a haste.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Bedsitterland
Writers: leo sayer & frank farrell
Im thinking of taking
The easy way out
Open the window
Ill fall to the ground
I could do it -- wouldnt be much too it
I gotta little place here in the city
Its kind of small and dirty, its a bedsitter
And theres a lot of us living here
Wall to wall in one big house
And when the night comes round
I can see a lot of lonely lights
There are people in there breathing
But it dont seem right
In the streets way down below me
Im listening for just a sound
But nobody comes around
In bedsitterland
And theres a man below me on the balcony
Crying to be heard
Screaming to be heard
Im haunted by his words
And the people in the street just shrug their shoulders
Saying hes disturbed
Hes in another world
Screaming at the birds
Crying to be heard
I hear his every word
Ive slept in the gutter on a summers day
Oh Ive bummed cigarettes in the night cafes
Ive joined the breadline
Believe I got a deadline
I gotta little place here in the city
Its kind of small and dirty, its a bedsitter
And theres a lot of us living here
Wall to wall in one big house
And when the night comes round
I can see a lot of lonely lights
There are people in there breathing
But it dont seem right
In the streets way down below me
Im listening for just a sound
But nobody comes around
The lights are going down
Nobody comes around
In bedsitterland
song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Salisbury
In the city of Salisbury, I was born
On a cold and snowy winter's morn.
Now I am living some miles away,
But I often take a trip there for a day.
Through its streets, I love to roam;
When I am there, it feels like home.
To the City, I still feel a connection;
For the City, I still feel much affection.
I love the City's great atmosphere;
The Cathedral bells, I love to hear.
Visitors flock from both near and far;
The towering Cathedral is its big star.
I love its mixture of old and new;
I love its style; its charming views.
It isn't a city which is run of the mill;
Its character, progress, has not killed.
To that City, I will always belong.
The bond between us is still strong.
In the city of Salisbury, my life did start;
I want to rest there when, this life, I depart.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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I've spoken of the shining city all my political life, but I don't know if I ever quite communicated what I saw when I said it. But in my mind it was a tall proud city built on rocks stronger than oceans, wind-swept, God-blessed, and teeming with people of all kinds living in harmony and peace, a city with free ports that hummed with commerce and creativity, and if there had to be city walls, the walls had doors and the doors were open to anyone with the will and the heart to get here. That's how I saw it and see it still.
quote by Ronald Reagan
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Comfort
Say! You've struck a heap of trouble --
Bust in business, lost your wife;
No one cares a cent about you,
You don't care a cent for life;
Hard luck has of hope bereft you,
Health is failing, wish you'd die --
Why, you've still the sunshine left you
And the big, blue sky.
Sky so blue it makes you wonder
If it's heaven shining through;
Earth so smiling 'way out yonder,
Sun so bright it dazzles you;
Birds a-singing, flowers a-flinging
All their fragrance on the breeze;
Dancing shadows, green, still meadows --
Don't you mope, you've still got these.
These, and none can take them from you;
These, and none can weigh their worth.
What! you're tired and broke and beaten? --
Why, you're rich -- you've got the earth!
Yes, if you're a tramp in tatters,
While the blue sky bends above
You've got nearly all that matters --
You've got God, and God is love.
poem by Robert William Service
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The Swamp
FOR one whole day and a long night through
We made our camp
In a she-oak grove by a coastal swamp.
Our tent gleamed white in the she-oak trees,
Whose falling hair
Made a soft, brown mist in the sweet blue air.
A sound subdued from their tresses rose —
A moan, a sigh
As of unseen seas, when the breeze went by.
'Twas wattle-time, and the scented bloom,
New lit and young,
In a mass of gold from the still trees hung.
There music dwelt, and a splendour moved
Through all the day
From the green of dawn to the twilight gray.
For careless ever, like one who goes
Where Joyance leads,
Sang the little reed-bird in the tall, green reeds.
Blue, swift and slender the dragonflies
A-hawking flew,
And a hawk hung poised in the burning blue.
A crane, slow-flapping its great wings, passed
Across the scene,
And a parrot jewelled the leafy screen.
In twos and threes from the hills around
The peewits came,
And the brush-flower burnt like a crimson flame.
On ti-tree trunk and on frond and log
The lizards slept,
While the sun moved west, and the shadows crept.
The sun moved west, and the tall hills sent
Broad shadows east,
And the reed-bird's song in the reed-beds ceased.
Then fell a hush, and within that hush
Rose, clear and shrill,
A cicada note on a distant hill.
A note of farewell, it seemed to us,
Its singing bore;
And the night came down, and it sang no more.
Night came with shadows and fitful gleams
And mist and damp,
And our fire burned red by the coastal swamp.
Then life not known of the daytime woke —
That life that preys
On the feathered things of the leafy ways.
We heard feet moving, and velvet wings
On swamp and height,
And a dingo howling across the night.
As, faces lit by the red camp-fire,
We mused enthralled.
Like a lone, lost spirit a curlew called;
Brown crickets sang in the moisty mould,
And every breeze
Drew a moaning note from the she-oak trees.
And all night long, as they swayed and moaned,
Strange fancies woke,
And we could not rest for the things they spoke.
Thus much and more through the hours we saw;
Thus much we heard
In that place of blossom and tree and bird.
Since then gold wattles have bloomed and bloomed,
And moons aloft
In the sky have wizened and waned full oft.
And yet, at times, when the night is still,
In dreams I tramp
Through the white sand-dunes to that coastal camp.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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C03 The Fall of Jericho
As Jericho's gates were shut,
To keep the Israelites out.
None could leave or enter
The guarded city's border.
Joshua knew not what to do?
Then, God gave him a clue.
'Soon, you'll take it over,
And it’ll be yours forever.'
'Listen, you march around,
With your soldiers behind,
For six days, once a day,
From where you all stay.'
'Let seven priests,
With their trumpets,
Go in front of this
Holy Covenant Box.'
'On the seventh day,
Follow the same way,
But then, go seven rounds,
With priests' trumpet sounds.'
'Finally, let them sound a long note,
A signal for all of you to shout,
In one voice, that'll vibrate,
And push the city walls out.'
'Easy will be your work.
The open city, you can take.
Into the city, you can walk.
Thus, you fulfill your task.'
Every God's command,
Joshua kept in his mind.
He obeyed what God said.
At the end, success it paid.
They killed without pity,
Every life in the city.
Then the city, they burnt.
Inside when they went.
But Joshua spared the lives
Of Rahab and her relatives,
As she helped two spies,
Who stayed in her house.
Joshua issued a warning,
'If anyone there is trying
To build the city again
It'll be considered a sin.'
'God's curse they'll get
By doing this sinful act,
Hear, this is God's curse
And all of you note this.'
'Whoever lays the foundation,
Will lose his eldest son.
Whoever builds the gates,
Will lose his youngest.'
So, God kept up His word.
And He did what all He said.
Joshua's fame spread far and wide,
By the grace of the Lord.
poem by Simple Simon
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Shut Up in the Dark
All my life, I never knew
The world was to be savored,
So older and taller I grew,
And this world was never favored.
All my life, I never found
The world as oh-so-great;
Never listened to the sound
And let fate just be fate.
All my life, I never heard
The calling of the lark.
Of course my ears heard not a word.
I was shut up in the dark.
poem by Deborah Lynn Janik
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Hes Alive
The gates and doors were barred
And all the windows fastened down
I spent the night in sleeplessness
And rose at every sound
Half in hope of sorrow
And half in fear the day
Would find the soldiers breakin through
To drag us all away
And just before the sunrise
I heard something at the wall
The gate began to rattle
And a voice began to call
I hurried to the window
Looked down into the street
Expecting swords and torches
And the sound of soldiers feet
But there was no one there but mary
So I went down to let her in
John stood there beside me
As she told me where shed been
She said theyve moved him in the night
And none of us know where
The stones been rolled away
And now his body isnt there
We both ran towards the garden
Then john ran on ahead
We found the stone and empty tomb
Just the way that mary said
But the winding sheet they wrapped him in
Was just an empty shell
And how or where theyd taken him
Was more than I could tell
Oh something strange had happened there
Just what I did not know
John believed a miracle
But I just turned to go
Circumstance and speculation
Couldnt lift me very high
cause Id seen them crucify him
Then I saw him die
Back inside the house again
The guilt and anguish came
Everything Id promised him
Just added to my shame
When at last it came to choices
I denied I knew his name
And even if he was alive
It wouldnt be the same
But suddenly the air was filled
With a strange and sweet perfume
Light that came from everywhere
Drove shadows from the room
And jesus stood before me
With his arms held open wide
And I fell down on my knees
And I just clung to him and cried
Then he raised me to my feet
And as I looked into his eyes
The love was shining out from him
Like sunlight from the skies
Guilt in my confusion
Disappeared in sweet release
And every fear I ever had
Just melted into peace
Hes alive yes hes alive
Yes hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive yes hes alive
Oh hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive hes alive
Hallelujah hes alive
Hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive hes alive hes alive
I believe it hes alive
Sweet jesus
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Behind Closed Doors
Written by new order
There is a secret place
Underneath a tree
Where if you go and haste
You will find a key
The key will open doors
And you will look inside
The things that you will see
Will open up your eyes
At any given time
On every other street
The city comes to life
Though everyones asleep
A man beats up his wife
He doesnt wanna keep
Behind closed doors
Theyre in retreat
I dont know what makes me stay
The city life just aint the same
Theres something wrong with kids today
I blame the parents anyway
Theres no hope
No one to trust
I cant cope
Its obvious
Please dont take my drugs away
Im gonna give them up someday
There is a place somewhere
That I could call a home
Id live without a care
Id never be alone
One day I will get there
I feel it in my bones
I check upon the scores
I listen to the coors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
Behind closed doors
They still want more
Behind closed doors
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dead Kings
All the dead kings came to me
At Rosnaree, where I was dreaming.
A few stars glimmered through the morn,
And down the thorn the dews were streaming.
And every dead king had a story
Of ancient glory, sweetly told.
It was too early for the lark,
But the starry dark had tints of gold.
I listened to the sorrows three
Of that Eire passed into song.
A cock crowed near a hazel croft,
And up aloft dim larks winged strong.
And I, too, told the kings a story
Of later glory, her fourth sorrow:
There was a sound like moving shields
In high green fields and the lowland furrow.
And one said : ' We who yet are kings
Have heard these things lamenting inly.'
Sweet music flowed from many a bill
And on the hill the morn stood queenly.
And one said : ' Over is the singing,
And bell bough ringing, whence we come ;
With heavy hearts we'll tread the shadows,
In honey meadows birds are dumb.'
And one said : ' Since the poets perished
And all they cherished in the way,
Their thoughts unsung, like petal showers
Inflame the hours of blue and gray.'
And one said : ' A loud tramp of men
We'll hear again at Rosnaree.'
A bomb burst near me where I lay.
I woke, 'twas day in Picardy.
poem by Francis Ledwidge
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Daily, Daily, Sing The Praises
Daily, daily, sing the praises
Of the city God hath made;
In the beauteous fields of Eden
Its foundation stones are laid.
Refrain
O that I had wings of angels,
Here to spread and heavenward fly!
I would seek the gates of Zion,
Far beyond the starry sky.
All the walls of that dear city
Are of bright and burnished gold;
It is matchless in its beauty,
And its treasures are untold.
Refrain
In the midst of that dear city
Christ is reigning on His seat,
And the angels swing their censers
In a ring about His feet.
Refrain
From the throne a river issues,
Clear as crystal, passing bright,
And it traverses the city
Like a sudden beam of light.
Refrain
There the forests ever blossom,
Like our orchards here in May;
There the gardens never wither,
But eternally are gay.
Refrain
There the meadows green and dewy
Shine with lilies wondrous fair;
Thousand, thousand, are the colors
Of the waving flowers there.
Refrain
There the forests ever blossom,
Like our orchards here in May;
There the gardens never wither,
But eternally are gay.
Refrain
There the wind is sweetly fragrant,
And is laden with the song
Of the seraphs, and the elders,
And the great redeemèd throng.
Refrain
O I would my ears were open
Here to catch that happy strain!
O I would my eyes some vision
Of that Eden would attain!
Refrain
poem by Sabine Baring-Gould
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The Veery
THE MOONBEAMS over Arno’s vale in silver flood were pouring,
When first I heard the nightingale a long-lost love deploring.
So passionate, so full of pain, it sounded strange and eerie;
I longed to hear a simpler strain,—the wood-notes of the veery.
The laverock sings a bonny lay above the Scottish heather;
It sprinkles down from far away like light and love together;
He drops the golden notes to greet his brooding mate, his dearie;
I only know one song more sweet,—the vespers of the veery.
In English gardens, green and bright and full of fruity treasure,
I heard the blackbird with delight repeat his merry measure:
The ballad was a pleasant one, the tune was loud and cheery,
And yet, with every setting sun, I listened for the veery.
But far away, and far away, the tawny thrush is singing;
New England woods, at close of day, with that clear chant are ringing:
And when my light of life is low, and heart and flesh are weary,
I fain would hear, before I go, the wood-notes of the veery.
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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While The City Sleeps
What goes on behind closed doors, private wounds, open sores
Youre your own worst enemy and cheap thrills bring you to your knees
Its thumbs down for someone you know, and its easy come and easy go
Chorus:
Burn your bridges, take what you can get
Go for the throat cause you paid your debt
Livin well is the best revenge, so give em hell
While the city sleeps - its all there in black and white
While the city sleeps - through the eye of the needle, gotta thread your life
While the city sleeps - while the city sleeps
Its a hit or miss, an eye for an eye, live for today, and dont ask why
For better or worse, you bought and sold
They love you while youre hot and leave you when youre cold
Chorus
While the city sleeps - yeah, better run for your life
Take your troubles to the night
While the city sleeps - yeah, beggars, thieves and losers, theres no relief
While the city sleeps - theres no relief, while the city sleeps
While the city sleeps - yeah
Chorus
While the city sleeps - while the city sleeps
While the city sleeps - while the city sleeps
While the city sleeps - yeah, theres no relief
While the city sleeps
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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