The Bird and the Hour
The sun looks over a little hill
And floods the valley with gold-
A torrent of gold;
And the hither field is green and still;
Beyond it a cloud outrolled,
Is glowing molten and bright;
And soon the hill, and the valley and all,
With a quiet fall,
Shall be gathered into the night.
And yet a moment more,
Out of the silent wood,
As if from the closing door
Of another world and another lovelier mood,
Hear'st thou the hermit pour-
So sweet! so magical!-
His golden music, ghostly beautiful.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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On the South Downs
Light falls the rain
On link and laine,
After the burning day;
And the bright scene,
Blue, gold, and green,
Is blotted out in gray.
Not so will part
The glowing heart
With sunny hours gone by;
On cliff and hill
There lingers still
A light that cannot die.
Like a gold crown
Gorse decks the Down,
All sapphire lies the sea;
And incense sweet
Springs as our feet
Tread light the thymy lea.
Fade, vision bright!
Fall rain, fall night!
Forget, gray world, thy green!
For us, nor thee,
Can all days be
As though this had not been!
poem by Francis William Bourdillon
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Cornish Lullaby
Out on the mountain over the town,
All night long, all night long,
The trolls go up and the trolls go down,
Bearing their packs and crooning a song;
And this is the song the hill-folk croon,
As they trudge in the light of the misty moon,--
This is ever their dolorous tune:
"Gold, gold! ever more gold,--
Bright red gold for dearie!"
Deep in the hill the yeoman delves
All night long, all night long;
None but the peering, furtive elves
See his toil and hear his song;
Merrily ever the cavern rings
As merrily ever his pick he swings,
And merrily ever this song he sings:
"Gold, gold! ever more gold,--
Bright red gold for dearie!"
Mother is rocking thy lowly bed
All night long, all night long,
Happy to smooth thy curly head
And to hold thy hand and to sing her song;
'T is not of the hill-folk, dwarfed and old,
Nor the song of the yeoman, stanch and bold,
And the burden it beareth is not of gold;
But it's "Love, love!--nothing but love,--
Mother's love for dearie!"
poem by Eugene Field
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Gold and Love for Dearie
Out on the mountain over the town,
All night long, all night long,
The trolls go up and the trolls go down,
Bearing their packs and singing a song;
And this is the song the hill-folk croon,
As they trudge in the light of the misty moon--
This is ever their dolorous tune:
'Gold, gold! ever more gold--
Bright red gold for dearie!'
Deep in the hill a father delves
All night long, all night long;
None but the peering, furtive elves
Sees his toil and hears his song;
Merrily ever the cavern rings
As merrily ever his pick he swings,
And merrily ever this song he sings:
'Gold, gold! ever more gold--
Bright red gold for dearie!'
Mother is rocking thy lowly bed
All night long, all night long,
Happy to smooth thy curly head,
To hold thy hand and to sing her song:
'T is not of the hill-folk dwarfed and old,
Nor the song of thy father, stanch and bold,
And the burthen it beareth is not of gold:
But it 's 'Love, love! nothing but love--
Mother's love for dearie!'
poem by Eugene Field
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Parting
WHEN hides the sun behind a bank of cloud,
Though well we know the sun is shining still,
No less the shadow falls on down and hill,
And the bright hues grow dull as brows grief-bowed.
So, when thou goest from me into the crowd,
Though well I know thy love through good and ill
Shines steadfastly, thy going seems to fill
The world with shade--turn sunshine to a shroud.
But when through clouds the sun returns to bless
Hill, field, and wood with his divine caress,
Ah, how the colours start to life again!
So after absence, when thou comest back
Bright grows the whole thought-world that was so black,
And my heart sings to feel the sunshine then.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Peace In The Valley
Well, I'm tired and so weary
But I must go along
Till the Lord comes and calls me away
Where the morning's so bright
And the Lamb is the light
And the night, night is as fair as the day.
There will be peace in the valley
For me some day
There will be peace in the valley
For me, Oh Lord I pray
There'll be no sadness
No sorrow, no trouble I see
There will be peace
In the valley for me.
Well, the flowers will be blooming
And the grass will be green
And the skies will be clear and serene
Where the sun ever beams
In this valley of dreams
And no cloud will be seen.
There will be peace in the valley
For me some day
There will be peace in the valley
For me, Oh Lord. I pray
There'll be no sadness
No sorrow, no trouble I see
There will be peace
In the valley for me.
Well, the bear will be gentle
And the wolf will be tame
And the lion shall lay down
By the lamb, oh
And the beasts from the wild
Shall be led by a child
And I'll be changed,
Changed from this creature that I am.
There will be peace in the valley
For me some day
There will be peace in the valley
For me, Oh Lord I pray
There'll be no sadness
No sorrow, no trouble I see
There will be peace
In the valley for me...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Beautiful Reward
Well I sought gold and diamond rings
My own drug to ease the pain that living brings
Walked from the mountain to the valley floor
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
From a house on a hill a sacred light shines
I walk through these rooms but none of them are mine
Down empty hallways I went from door to door
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
Well your hair shone in the sun
I was so high I was the lucky one
Then I came crashing down like a drunk on a barroom floor
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
Tonight I can feel the cold wind at my back
Im flyin high over gray fields my feathers long and black
Down along the rivers silent edge I soar
Searching for my beautiful reward
Searching for my beautiful reward
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Daffodil
Gold tassel upon March's bugle-horn,
Whose blithe reveille blows from hill to hill
And every valley rings--O Daffodil!
What promise for the season newly born?
Shall wave on wave of flow'rs, full tide of corn,
O'erflow the world, then fruited Autumn fill
Hedgerow and garth? Shall tempest, blight, or chill
Turn all felicity to scathe and scorn?
Tantarrara! the joyous Book of Spring
Lies open, writ in blossoms; not a bird
Of evil augury is seen or heard:
Come now, like Pan's old crew, we'll dance and sing,
Or Oberon's: for hill and valley ring
To March's bugle-horn,--Earth's blood is stirred.
poem by William Allingham
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Green Bird, Golden Bird.
A tired green bird flew a very long journey,
Came to a stop in a beautiful valley.
There were many birds of all colours singing and playing,
Among them he saw a beautiful golden bird,
Her feathers shining in the bright sunshine,
And her voice echoed melodiously.
Within a short time the green and golden birds were close friends,
They knew each other deeply by heart,
Passing the days, flying from valley to valley,
And resting from tree to tree.
Then one sad day, golden bird must return,
She too had flown from across the vast ocean,
Even though it broke the green bird's heart,
But he was willing to let go, and before she left, .. he asked;
Golden bird, have I full-filled my promises to you?
That I would never hurt you,
That I would protect you with my life,
That I would share my provisions with you,
That I would make you happy and smiling always!
Is there any single word to describe all these?
Golden bird,
I will pray for your lasting happiness,
I will never forget your overflowing kindness,
You have nested permanently in my heart…and lastly,
I dream for us to be able to fly together again,
in unimaginable beautiful green heaven!
poem by Desert Life
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Midsummer Night
Mother of balms and soothings manifold,
Quiet-breathed night whose brooding hours are seven,
To whom the voices of all rest are given,
And those few stars whose scattered names are told,
Far off beyond the westward hills outrolled,
Darker than thou, more still, more dreamy even,
The golden moon leans in the dusky heaven,
And under the one star-a point of gold:
And all go slowly lingering toward the west,
As we go down forgetfully to our rest,
Weary of daytime, tired of noise and light:
Ah, it was time that thou should'st come; for we
Were sore athirst, and had great need of thee,
Thou sweet physician, balmy-blossomed night.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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The Golden Valley
To perchase his boat and to ppurchase your love,
And like Enoch's white horse to his lover;
But your golden valley of love lay bare,
For i have to overflow it with love.
To purchase her boat and to purchase his love,
And like Eve's baby to her sweet lover;
But your golden valley lay bare,
And i have to water it with my love.
A patient wife,
And to watch them overflow the banks of love;
For the changes seen came out of it.
This love is like a seaman's glass,
And the passion it generates is from her;
But like a caged bird escaping suddenly,
The long and narrow sheet of the valley was noticed.
Let them sing around the old tree,
And let them enjoy the fruits of love;
For it is pleasant to see kind heart in true love.
Icy and chilly,
And birds of rare plume;
Fill the red bowls in the golden valley with love and,
Let me bath you all day long in this sweet muse of love.
A rich and savoury stew to serve in the golden valley,
And of natural beauties to swing with the muse;
But i can still hear the voices from the old trees.
My memory can still retrace your love,
And of your beauty in the golden valley of love;
But with a thankful heart i envy nobody,
Because sweet came out of your world in this valley.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Mansion On The Hill
Tonight down here in the valley
Im lonesome and o how I feel
As I sit here alone in my cabin
I can see your mansion on the hill
Do you recall when we parted
The story to me you revealed
You said you could live without loving
In your loveless mansion on the hill
Ive waited all through the years love
To give you a heart true and real
Cause I know youre living in sorrow
In your loveless mansion on the hill
The light shine bright from yer window
The trees stand so silent and still
I know youre alone with your pride dear
In your loveless mansion on the hill
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Feel Like A Leaf In Autumn
I feel like a leaf in Autumn borne along by flooded rill
Running down the silent valley down along the moonlit hill
Down to join the flooded river towards it's final destiny
To it's deep grave in salt water in the bosom of the sea.
I felt like that leaf in Springtime on it's lovely mother tree
With it's brothers and it's sisters one big happy family
A bright green leaf in a green World dancing in the wind and rain
Give me back what's gone forever give me back my youth again.
I felt like that leaf in Summer when the sun shone in the sky
And the world was full of colour and wild songbirds piped for joy
And bright wildflowers in green meadow fit home for fair butterfly
Oh but all that's young and beautiful has one day got to die.
I feel like a leaf in Autumn borne along by flooded stream
Running down the moonlit valley that was once so very green
Down to join the flooded river towards it's final destiny
To be gone and lost forever in the bosom of the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In the Rangitaki Valley
valley of waving broom,
O lovely, lovely light,
O hear of the world, red-gold!
Breast high in the blossom I stand;
It beats about me like waves
Of a magical, golden sea
The barren heart of the world
Alive at the kiss of the sun,
The yellow mantle of Summer
Flung over a laughing land,
Warm with the warmth of her body
Sweet with the kiss of her breath
O valley of waving broom,
O lovely, lovely light,
O mystical marriage of Earth
With the passionate Summer sun!
To her lover she holds a cup
And the yellow wine o'erflows.
He has lighted a little torch
And the whole of the world is ablaze.
Prodigal wealth of love!
Breast high in the blossom I stand.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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Green Mansions
Green mansions, high upon a hill
Green mansions, quiet and still
Big wall all around
Its where my baby will be found
Waiting for that day, to come
Green mansions, high upon a hill
In the countryside where the birds begin to sing
Free from the glamour of the world
Where the story does unfurl
Waiting on that day to come
Tried in vain to forget
Just how it ought to be
Over and over and over and over again
'bout what it means to me
Green mansions, I can hear the mocking bird
Birds singing in a melancholy wood
The big wall all around
Where my baby will be found
Waiting for that day to come
Well Ive tried in vain, to forget
Yeah what it ought to be
Over and over, over again
Just what it means to me
Green mansions, high upon a hill
Green mansions, quiet and still
Big wall all around
Where my baby will be found
Waiting for that day to come
Green mansions, high upon a hill
Green mansions, quiet and still
Big wall all around
Where my baby will be found
Waiting for that day to come.
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Mansion On The Hill
Hank williams
Tonight down here in the valley
Im lonesome and oh, how I feel
As I sit here alone in your cabin
I can see your mansion on the hill
Do you remember when we parted?
The story to me you revealed
You said you could live without love, dear
In your loveless mansion on the hill
Ive waited all through the years. love
To give you a heart true and real
Cos I know you are living in sorrow
In your loveless mansion on the hill
The light shines bright from your window
The trees stand so silent and still
I know youre alone with your pride, dear
In your loveless mansion on the hill
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Emerald City Sequence
(quincy jones/charlie smalls)
Emerald city green:
I want to be seen green
Wouldnt be caught dead, red
cause if you are seen green
It means you got mean bread
Youve got to be seen green
To show that youre stuffs layed
If youre not seen green
You better be wearing jade
Oh, youve got to be seen green
Dont tell them your cupboards bare
That you gave up one weeks feed
To pay for your colored hair
Oh, oh, oh
An announcement from the great powerful oz:
I thought it over and green is dead
till I change my mind, the color is red
Emerald city red:
I wouldnt be seen green
Ooo! oo! oo! ah! ah!
I wouldnt be caught dead
And if Im caught at all
Then catch me in dead, red
Ooo!
Youve got to be dead red
Youve got to be real hot
So throw away those green gems
And wear rubies on your yacht
Youve got to be dead, red
Youve got to have flash and flair
And if youre not seen red
Then you shouldnt be seen nowhere
Ah!
How quickly fashion goes down the drain.
Last week when you all was wearin pink
Already for me red was old.
The ultimate brick is gold.
Thats the new color, children
Emerald city gold:
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
You got to be seen gold
Watch out for the new kind
You got to have old gold
Like some from a gold mine
You got to be wearin gold
The twenty four carat kind
And once youve shined it up
It should ought to make you blind, ah!
You got to be seen in gold
To show that youre super slick
It helps to pay tips and tolls
Its the ultimate yellow brick
Its the ultimate
Gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Golden gold
Gold, gold, gold, gold
Gold!
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cloud King
the hands of fog
hole his head like a hill
the coldness is
felt on the
sides of his ear
you are the cloud king now
feeling so high
you let
the drops of rain fall
and so there
were tears
dropping from his eyes
cloud king, wearing the cloak of
fog,
you leave another
valley of
molested emptiness
barren desert feeling
another wasted moment
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lines written in the Belief that the Ancient Roman Festival of the Dead was called Ambarvalia
Swings the way still by hollow and hill,
And all the world's a song;
'She's far,' it sings me, 'but fair,' it rings me,
'Quiet,' it laughs, 'and strong!'
Oh! spite of the miles and years between us,
Spite of your chosen part,
I do remember; and I go
With laughter in my heart.
So above the little folk that know not,
Out of the white hill-town,
High up I clamber; and I remember;
And watch the day go down.
Gold is my heart, and the world's golden,
And one peak tipped with light;
And the air lies still about the hill
With the first fear of night;
Till mystery down the soundless valley
Thunders, and dark is here;
And the wind blows, and the light goes,
And the night is full of fear,
And I know, one night, on some far height,
In the tongue I never knew,
I yet shall hear the tidings clear
From them that were friends of you.
They'll call the news from hill to hill,
Dark and uncomforted,
Earth and sky and the winds; and I
Shall know that you are dead.
I shall not hear your trentals,
Nor eat your arval bread;
For the kin of you will surely do
Their duty by the dead.
Their little dull greasy eyes will water;
They'll paw you, and gulp afresh.
They'll sniffle and weep, and their thoughts will creep
Like flies on the cold flesh.
They will put pence on your grey eyes,
Bind up your fallen chin,
And lay you straight, the fools that loved you
Because they were your kin.
They will praise all the bad about you,
And hush the good away,
And wonder how they'll do without you,
And then they'll go away.
But quieter than one sleeping,
And stranger than of old,
You will not stir for weeping,
You will not mind the cold;
But through the night the lips will laugh not,
The hands will be in place,
And at length the hair be lying still
About the quiet face.
With snuffle and sniff and handkerchief,
And dim and decorous mirth,
With ham and sherry, they'll meet to bury
The lordliest lass of earth.
The little dead hearts will tramp ungrieving
Behind lone-riding you,
The heart so high, the heart so living,
Heart that they never knew.
I shall not hear your trentals,
Nor eat your arval bread,
Nor with smug breath tell lies of death
To the unanswering dead.
With snuffle and sniff and handkerchief,
The folk who loved you not
Will bury you, and go wondering
Back home. And you will rot.
But laughing and half-way up to heaven,
With wind and hill and star,
I yet shall keep, before I sleep,
Your Ambarvalia.
poem by Rupert Brooke
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Indian Summer
This is the sign!
This flooding splendour, golden and hyaline,
This sun a golden sea on hill and plain, --
That God forgets not, that He walks with men.
His smile is on the mountain and the pool
And all the fairy lakes are beautiful.
This is the word!
That makes a thing of flame the water-bird.
This mercy of His fulfilled in the magical
Clear glow of skies from dawn to evenfall,
Telling His Hand is over us, that we
Are not delivered to the insatiable sea.
This is the pledge!
The promise writ in gold to the water's edge:
His bow's in Heaven and the great floods are over.
Oh, broken hearts, lift up! The Immortal Lover
Embraces, comforts with the enlivening sun,
The sun He bids stand still till the day is won.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Molten or metallic marvels
I really truly don't know why
some things under the sun and sky
attract and catch my fancy
Quite queerly they happen to be
hot melting smelting solids
that melt into exquisite liquids.
Take for instance heated liquid gold
molten glass or molten brass
and to watch magma 'neath the earth's fold
Ooh I love just about any melting mass.
With similar bizarre ecstasy and fascination
do I always watch onscreen molten lava
Gliding in serpentine turns, oblivious of my admiration
Ah, I just love all that golden molten mass
Sometimes I even have such an eccentric craving
to watch just any solid beauty melting smelting
that I satisfy this craving by simply imagining
the honey to be some liquid fire gold
in a crystal clear jar and liken it to
a metallic gold syrup in the furnace burning
As if it were stagnant mini-lava
right before me glowing!
As for other mesmeric things
that I find real eye-catching
are those which everybody else finds ravishing.
And they are in all shine
dazzling diamond dust
Magical celestial stardust
Glittery terrestrial gold dust
in mankind's metallic materialistic lust.!
But I, I am allergic to dust. ;)
poem by S.zaynub Kamoonpuri
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