The Delectable Day
The boy on the famous gray pony,
Just bidding good-bye at the door,
Plucking up maiden heart for the fences
Where his brother won honour of yore.
The walk to 'the Meet' with fair children,
And women as gentle as gay,-
Ah! how do we male hogs in armour
Deserve such companions as they?
The afternoon's wander to windward,
To meet the dear boy coming back;
And to catch, down the turns of the valley,
The last weary chime of the pack.
The climb homeward by park and by moorland,
And through the fir forests again,
While the south-west wind roars in the gloaming,
Like an ocean of seething champagne.
And at night the septette of Beethoven,
And the grandmother by in her chair,
And the foot of all feet on the sofa
Beating delicate time to the air.
Ah, God! a poor soul can but thank Thee
For such a delectable day!
Though the fury, the fool, and the swindler,
To-morrow again have their way!
Eversley, 6th November 1872.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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When The Gloom Is On The Glen
When the moonlight's on the mountain
And the gloom is on the glen,
At the cross beside the fountain
There is one will meet thee then.
At the cross beside the fountain;
Yes, the cross beside the fountain,
There is one will meet thee then!
I have braved, since first we met, love,
Many a danger in my course;
But I never can forget, love,
That dear fountain, that old cross,
Where, her mantle shrouded o'er her—
For the winds were chilly then—
First I met my Leonora,
When the gloom was on the glen.
Many a clime I've ranged since then, love,
Many a land I've wandered o'er;
But a valley like that glen, love,
Half so dear I never sor!
Ne'er saw maiden fairer, coyer,
Than wert thou, my true love, when
In the gloaming first I saw yer,
In the gloaming of the glen!
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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New Pony
Once I had a pony, her name was lucifer
I had a pony, her name was lucifer
She broke her leg and she needed shooting
I swear it hurt me more than it could ever have hurted her
Sometimes I wonder whats going on in the mind of miss x
Sometimes I wonder whats going on in the mind of miss x
You know she got such a sweet disposition
I never know what the poor girls gonna do to me next
I got a new pony, she knows how to fox-trot, lope and pace
Well, I got a new pony, she knows how to fox-trot, lope and pace
She got great big hind legs
And long black shaggy hair above her face
Well now, it was early in the mornin, I seen your shadow in the door
It was early in the mornin, I seen your shadow in the door
Now, I dont have to ask nobody
I know what you come here for
They say youre usin voodoo, your feet walk by themselves
They say youre usin voodoo, I seen your feet walk by themselves
Oh, baby, that God you been prayin to
Is gonna give ya back what youre wishin on someone else
Come over here pony, i, I wanna climb up one time on you
Come over here pony, i, I wanna climb up one time on you
Well, youre so bad and nasty
But I love you, yes I do
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The South Wind: A Fisherman's Blessing
O blessed drums of Aldershot!
O blessed South-west train!
O blessed, blessed Speaker's clock,
All prophesying rain!
O blessed yaffil, laughing loud!
O blessed falling glass!
O blessed fan of cold gray cloud!
O blessed smelling grass!
O bless'd South wind that toots his horn
Through every hole and crack!
I'm off at eight to-morrow morn,
To bring
such
fishes back!
Eversley, April 1, 1856.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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Lord Robert
Tall and young and light of tongue,
Gallantly riding by wood and lea,
He was ware of a maiden fair
And turned and whispered, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Day by day she walks that way
Never hoping by wood or lea
To be ware of the stranger gay
Who turned and whispered, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?
Chance for chance he rides that way,
And again by wood or by lea
He was ware of the maiden fair,
And again he whispered, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Chance for chance that way rode he,
And again where he was ware,
Debonnair to that maiden fair
He turned and said, 'You remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Chance for chance on a summer-day,
Meeting her still by wood and lea,
He leaped gay from his gallant grey
And said, 'I see you remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Chance for chance when they hap'd to meet
He pressed on her lip, he breathed in her ear,
Dear dear words and kisses sweet,
Words and kisses too sweet, too dear.
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet,
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
When the morn enchants the east,
When the south is dazed with noon,
When the eve weeps to the west,
When the night beguiles the moon,
The maid moon that sat so lowly,
Sat so lowly with bended head,
Sat so lowly and rose so slowly,
Rose so slowly and walked so lowly,
Ever, ever with bended head,
Till the black, black hour of the starless sky,
The black, black hour and the dark, dark bed,
And live maids weep as they turn in their sleep,
Weep in their sleep and know not why,
And the white owls shriek and the dead men croon.
Now all ye gentlemen, grand and gay,
When you meet a maid by wood or lea,
Sir Knight, I pray, ride on thy way,
Nor turn and whisper, 'Remember me.'
Lest you drink no wine so strong or fine
But out of the cup, like a shell of the sea,
Thou shalt learn how slaves from their wormy graves
Can do that bidding, 'Remember me.'
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
Lest never in hall when the knights stand tall
And the goblets flash and the ladies shine,
And thou risest up the king of them all,
To drink to wassail and woman and wine,
Risest up with thy jewelled cup,
But out of the cup, like the sea in a shell,
A voice thou hast known by hill and wood,
A voice, a voice thou hast known too well!
And the cold wine boils on the lip like blood,
And the blood streams cold to the heart like wine,
Cold and hot to the heart like wine.
(Oh Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert,
Oh Lord Robert, 'tis I, 'tis I;
Under their feet where the cross-roads meet
Dost thou think I can lie and lie,
Lord Robert, Lord Robert, Lord Robert?)
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Follow Me
You’re hanging over a precipice,
looking down; you know you are going to fall.
At the last moment, a hand grasps yours.
A stranger whom you cannot see.
Slowly they haul you from your fate to be.
Their face you still cannot see,
but their words echo around you,
come on my brother follow me.
Foot holds come one at a time,
safety is now assured.
Slowly you move upwards,
one-step at a time along the way.
At the top the stranger is waiting,
his face blocked by the sun.
His voice is gentle and serine,
come on my brother follow me
You climb to your feet and follow,
as he begins to lead the way.
In his footsteps, you follow,
each and every day.
You learn things with every step.
You learn to have humility,
with everyone to you chance to meet,
a lesson well learnt and greet.
You still hear his words,
come on my brother follow me,
you still have a lot to learn,
and I have little time to teach thee.
You follow him through dangerous paths,
but no ill falls upon you.
You follow him until your dying day,
and into the next life to.
And, all the time his words,
they seem to follow you,
come on my brother follow me.
You walk where he walks,
and see what he sees,
and when its time to part,
his words are still with you,
come on my brother follow me.
poem by David Harris
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Born Cross-eyed
Seems like Ive been here before,
Fuzzy then and still so obscure, good-bye, good-bye, good-bye, good-bye.
And I dont want to see anybody cry,
Meet me some mornin in the sweet by and by, by and by, by and by.
Song commin on,
So pleasin to see, come and gone, good-bye, good-bye, good-bye, good-bye,
You dont have to tell me why,
Meet me some mornin in the sweet by and by, by and by, by and by.
It aint cause Im the only one left darlin,
Bout the time the sun rises west,
Feelin groovy, lookin fine.
Think Ill come back here again,
Every now and then from time to time.
My how lovely you are, my dear,
The ball game has gone much too far my dear,
Sing to me, do your thing to me,
Ill meet you some mornin, meet you some mornin,
In the sweet by and by, by and by, by and by.
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Fathers Chair
My fathers chair still standing there
All alone since the long night
Now its three years on and I still feel
Hell come home, well be alright
So wheres this healing time brings
I was told the pain would ease
But it still hurts like the first night
That night my brother, my mother and i
Were looking up at a distant star
And wishing we could reach that far
And back in the house
And alone for the first time
We told each other we cared
We avoided my fathers chair
I watch my family, we hold on
We are strong and well be alright
The clock continues counting down, all the while
And every child will share the long night
But do the spirits meet again
Why am I still so filled with doubt
Is my soul everlasting
And the far distant future
When I knew youd be gone
Came too fast and stays too long
Why do they leave the weak of spirit
And take the strong
When the world turns sour
And I get sick from the smell
And I cant find no comfort there
I climb into my fathers chair
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Afloat And Ashore
'Tumble and rumble, and grumble and snort,
Like a whale to starboard, a whale to port;
Tumble and rumble, and grumble and snort,
And the steamer steams thro' the sea, love!'
'I see the ship on the sea, love,
I stand alone
On this rock,
The sea does not shock
The stone;
The waters around it are swirled,
But under my feet
I feel it go down
To where the hemispheres meet
At the adamant heart of the world.
Oh, that the rock would move!
Oh, that the rock would roll
To meet thee over the sea, love!
Surely my mighty love
Should fill it like a soul,
And it should bear me to thee, love;
Like a ship on the sea, love,
Bear me, bear me, to thee, love!'
'Guns are thundering, seas are sundering, crowds are wondering,
Low on our lee, love.
Over and over the cannon-clouds cover brother and lover, but over and over
The whirl-wheels trundle the sea, love,
And on thro' the loud pealing pomp of her cloud
The great ship is going to thee, love;
Blind to her mark, like a world thro' the dark,
Thundering, sundering, to the crowds wondering,
Thundering ever to thee, love.'
'I have come down to thee coming to me, love,
I stand, I stand
On the solid sand,
I see thee coming to me, love;
The sea runs up to me on the sand,
I start-'t is as if thou hadst stretched thine hand
And touched me thro' the sea, love.
I feel as if I must die
For there's something longs to fly,
Fly and fly, to thee, love.
As the blood of the flower ere she blows
Is beating up to the sun,
And her roots do hold her down,
And it blushes and breaks undone
In a rose,
So my blood is beating in me, love!
I see thee nigh and nigher,
And my soul leaps up like sudden fire,
My life's in the air
To meet thee there,
To meet thee coming to me, love!
Over the sea,
Coming to me,
Coming, and coming to me, love!'
'The boats are lowered: I leap in first,
Pull, boys, pull! or my heart will burst!
More! more!-lend me an oar!-
I'm thro' the breakers! I'm on the shore!
I see thee waiting for me, love!'
'A sudden storm
Of sighs and tears,
A clenching arm,
A look of years.
In my bosom a thousand cries,
A flash like light before my eyes,
And I am lost in thee, love!'
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Before Ever We Did Meet
Before ever we did meet, I missed thee-
In my dreams too, many times, I have kissed thee-
Before there was you, there was only my heart's retreat,
To opine differently, would be to impart deceit!
I have now but just one all-consuming goal:
To meet again my heart, which you stole!
Until such time as we do again meet,
Surely I am less than whole, not nearly complete!
Forever and always shall I hold you to be most dear,
Foremost are thoughts of thee, though we are not near!
One day, perhaps whence not expectant of such,
You shall find me near to your tender touch!
Naught does there exist else of more import-
To assure us a life where naught else may consort!
Maurice Harris,22 November 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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A Fickle Woman
Her nature is the sea's, that smiles to-night
A radiant maiden in the moon's soft light;
The unsuspecting seaman sets his sails,
Forgetful of the fury of her gales;
To-morrow, mad with storms, the ocean roars,
And o'er his hapless wreck the flood she pours!
poem by Eugene Field
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The Night was wide, and furnished scant
589
The Night was wide, and furnished scant
With but a single Star—
That often as a Cloud it met—
Blew out itself—for fear—
The Wind pursued the little Bush—
And drove away the Leaves
November left—then clambered up
And fretted in the Eaves—
No Squirrel went abroad—
A Dog's belated feet
Like intermittent Plush, he heard
Adown the empty Street—
To feel if Blinds be fast—
And closer to the fire—
Her little Rocking Chair to draw—
And shiver for the Poor—
The Housewife's gentle Task—
How pleasanter—said she
Unto the Sofa opposite—
The Sleet—than May, no Thee—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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South Park Theme
I'm going down to south park, gonna have myself a time.
Friendly faces everywhere, humble folks without temptation.
Going down to south park, gonna leave my woes behind.
Ample parking day or night, people shouting "howdy neighbor!"
Heading on out to south park, gonna see if i can't unwind.
I like girls with big vaginas, i like girls with big fat titties.
So come on down to south park and meet some friends of mine.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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XIII. O Time! Who Know'st a Lenient Hand to Lay...
O TIME! who know'st a lenient hand to lay
Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence,
(Lulling to sad repose the weary sense)
Stealest the long-forgotten pang away;
On Thee I rest my only hope at last,
And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear
That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear,
I may look back on many a sorrow past,
And meet life's peaceful evening with a smile --
As some poor bird, at day's departing hour,
Sings in the sunbeam, of the transient shower
Forgetful, tho' its wings are wet the while: --
Yet ah! how much must that poor heart endure,
Which hopes from thee, and thee alone, a cure!
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Influence Of Time on Grief
O TIME! who know'st a lenient hand to lay
Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence,
(Lulling to sad repose the weary sense)
Stealest the long-forgotten pang away;
On Thee I rest my only hope at last,
And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear
That flows in vain o'er all my soul held dear,
I may look back on many a sorrow past,
And meet life's peaceful evening with a smile -
As some poor bird, at day's departing hour,
Sings in the sunbeam, of the transient shower
Forgetful, tho' its wings are wet the while: -
Yet ah! how much must that poor heart endure,
Which hopes from thee, and thee alone, a cure!
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Good Night My Brother
Good Night My Brother
Good Night my dear brother.
It seems that is all I can say
as today you close your eyes on this, now fated day.
My mother she shed a tear and asked us all simply to pray.
We hear her heart breaking
Cracking as she… shuffles.
She moves quietly in her room.
The house is still lit, she doesn’t want any gloom.
She ponders to herself we are sure; of what is to come.
The children left behind, still wondering on the moment.
One minute he was there and the next he is gone.
Confused by it all...the children...Oh the children! ...oh what is to done?
The police have now come and gone
as dear brother he passed away at home
lying on his bed, no movement.. no…no breathing in his room.
Good night my dear brother
Those cigarettes
They did you in.
We spoke but some weeks ago
you lamented then, that that may be the way you will go!
Those accursed things took my father too...you knew this then and here we are
Five years later and back again.
Good night my dear brother
It seems that is all I can say
I love you dearly
You knew that...I love you beyond the grave.
I know God now keeps you
I know that you accepted him
I believe God keeps you,
So good night my brother dear, our journey has not come to an end.
Your sister. For my brother Val.
Elaine Oxamendi Vicet
11: 03pm
poem by Elaine Oxamendi Vicet
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The Traveller And The Farm-Maiden
HE.
CANST thou give, oh fair and matchless maiden,
'Neath the shadow of the lindens yonder,--
Where I'd fain one moment cease to wander,--
Food and drink to one so heavy laden?
SHE.
Wouldst thou find refreshment, traveller weary,
Bread, ripe fruit and cream to meet thy wishes,--
None but Nature's plain and homely dishes,--
Near the spring may soothe thy wanderings dreary.
HE.
Dreams of old acquaintance now pass through me,
Ne'er-forgotten queen of hours of blisses.
Likenesses I've often found, but this is
One that quite a marvel seemeth to me!
SHE.
Travellers often wonder beyond measure,
But their wonder soon see cause to smother;
Fair and dark are often like each other,
Both inspire the mind with equal pleasure.
HE.
Not now for the first time I surrender
To this form, in humble adoration;
It was brightest midst the constellation
In the hail adorn'd with festal splendour.
SHE.
Be thou joyful that 'tis in my power
To complete thy strange and merry story!
Silks behind her, full of purple glory,
Floated, when thou saw'st her in that hour.
HE.
No, in truth, thou hast not sung it rightly!
Spirits may have told thee all about it;
Pearls and gems they spoke of, do not doubt it,--
By her gaze eclipsed,--it gleam'd so brightly!
SHE.
This one thing I certainly collected:
That the fair one--(say nought, I entreat thee!)
Fondly hoping once again to meet thee,
Many a castle in the air erected.
HE.
By each wind I ceaselessly was driven,
Seeking gold and honour, too, to capture!
When my wand'rings end, then oh, what rapture,
If to find that form again 'tis given!
SHE.
'Tis the daughter of the race now banish'd
That thou seest, not her likeness only;
Helen and her brother, glad though lonely,
Till this farm of their estate now vanish'd.
HE.
But the owner surely is not wanting
Of these plains, with ev'ry beauty teeming?
Verdant fields, broad meads, and pastures gleaming,
Gushing springs, all heav'nly and enchanting.
SHE.
Thou must hunt the world through, wouldst thou find him!--
We have wealth enough in our possession,
And intend to purchase the succession,
When the good man leaves the world behind him.
HE.
I have learnt the owner's own condition,
And, fair maiden, thou indeed canst buy it;
But the cost is great, I won't deny it,--
Helen is the price,--with thy permission!
SHE.
Did then fate and rank keep us asunder,
And must Love take this road, and no other?
Yonder comes my dear and trusty brother;
What will he say to it all, I wonder?
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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To The Spring
Welcome, gentle Stripling,
Nature's darling thou!
With thy basket full of blossoms,
A happy welcome now!
Aha!--and thou returnest,
Heartily we greet thee--
The loving and the fair one,
Merrily we meet thee!
Think'st thou of my maiden
In thy heart of glee?
I love her yet, the maiden--
And the maiden yet loves me!
For the maiden, many a blossom
I begged--and not in vain!
I came again a-begging,
And thou--thou givest again:
Welcome, gentle Stripling,
Nature's darling thou--
With thy basket full of blossoms,
A happy welcome now!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Fortuna
The wind blows east, the wind blows west,
And the frost falls and the rain:
A weary heart went thankful to rest,
And must rise to toil again, 'gain,
And must rise to toil again.
The wind blows east, the wind blows west,
And there comes good luck and bad;
The thriftiest man is the cheerfulest;
'Tis a thriftless thing to be sad, sad,
'Tis a thriftless thing to be sad.
The wind blows east, the wind blows west;
Ye shall know a tree by its fruit:
This world, they say, is worst to the best; --
But a dastard has evil to boot, boot,
But a dastard has evil to boot.
The wind blows east, the wind blows west;
What skills it to mourn or to talk?
A journey I have, and far ere I rest;
I must bundle my wallets and walk, walk,
I must bundle my wallets and walk.
The wind does blow as it lists alway;
Canst thou change this world to thy mind?
The world will wander its own wise way;
I also will wander mine, mine,
I also will wander mine.
poem by Thomas Carlyle
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Just Being Myself
just being myself is enough for me.
there is no need for a better you. you are enough for yourself too.
there is no need for a comparison. there are no points of collisions.
we meet and we say hello.and then we always have to say goodbye.
some memories may linger but we always have the time
to discard them. there are always new things coming for our eyes to gaze upon.
we always wonder under the stars on our dark nights.
we wander. we walk the distances of our lives. we even forget what time is it.
we meet again and say hello and say i remember you we meet once.
but where was that and when. you ask the same question. and we laugh
at our forgetting who we once were.
for in truth, what we were was not just love.
it was also pain.
and it is but right that we discharge them.
all about us.it is our right and duty to survive the harshness of the times.
we travel distances again. we meet new faces. we keep a track of what
we must become.
we always strive for happiness.we choose emotions.
we decide. to live some more.
we go back to faith. we meet again this time. stronger.
and say for once: this life is enough for me. this self.
let the Lord have it. It is not mine.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Elegy on the Death of a Child
Fair was thy blossom, tender flower,
That open'd like the rose in May,
Though nursed beneath the chilly shower
Of fell regret, for love's decay.
How oft thy mother heaved the sigh
O'er wreaths of honour early shorn,
Before thy sweet and guiltless eye
Had open'd on the dawn of morn!
How oft, above thy lowly bed,
When all in silence slumber'd low,
The fond and filial tear was shed,
Thou child of love, of shame, and woe!
Her wrong'd but gentle bosom burn'd
With joy thy opening bloom to see;
The only breast that o'er thee yearn'd;
The only heart that cared for thee.
Oft her young eye, with tear-drops bright,
Pleaded with Heaven for her sweet child,
When faded dreams of past delight
O'er recollection wander'd wild.
Fair was thy blossom, bonnie flower,
Fair as the softest wreaths of spring,
When late I saw thee seek the bower
In peace thy morning hymn to sing.
Thy little foot across the lawn
Scarce from the primrose press'd the dew;
I thought the spirit of the dawn
Before me to the greenwood flew.
E'en then the shaft was on the wing,
Thy spotless soul from earth to sever,
A tear of pity wet the string
That twang'd, and seal'd thy doom for ever.
I saw thee late, the emblem fair
Of beauty, innocence, and truth,
Start tiptoe on the verge of air,
'Twixt childhood and unstable youth;
But now I see thee stretch'd at rest:
To break that rest shall wake no morrow -
Pale as the grave-flower on thy breast!
Poor child of love, of shame, and sorrow!
May thy long sleep be sound and sweet;
Thy visions fraught with bliss to be;
And long the daisy, emblem meet,
Shall shed its earliest tear o'er thee!
poem by James Hogg
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