The Tulip Bed At Greeley Square
You know that oasis, fresh and fair
In the city desert, as Greeley square?
That bright triangle of scented bloom
That lies surrounded by grime and gloom?
Right in the breast of the seething town
Like a gleaming gem or a wanton’s gown?
Ah, wonderful things that tulip bed
Unto my listening soul has said.
Over the rattle and roar of the street
I hear a chorus of voices sweet,
Day and night, when I pass that way,
And these are the things the voices say:
“Here, in the heart of the foolish strife,
We live a simple and natural life.
“Here, in the midst of the clash and din,
We know what it is to be calm within.
“Here, environed by sin and shame,
We do what we can with our pure white flame.
“We do what we can with our bloom and grace,
To make the city a fairer place.
“It is well to be good though the world is vile,
And so through the dust and the smoke we smile,
“We are but atoms in chaos tossed,
Yet never a purpose for truth was lost.”
Ah, many a sermon is uttered there
By the bed of blossoms in Greeley square.
And he who listens and hears aright,
Is better equipped for the world’s hard fight.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Related quotes
The Unseen City
Not far away does that bright city stand,
'Tis but the mist o'er its dividing stream,
That wraps the glory of its glitt'ring strand,
Its radiant skies, and mountains silvery gleam;
Oh, often in the blindness of our fate
We wander very near the city's gate.
We love that unseen city, and we yearn
Ever within our earthly homes to see
Its golden towers, that in the sunset burn,
Its white walls rising from the quiet sea;
Its mansions gleaming with immortal glow,
Filled with the treasure lost to us below.
Yes, dear ones that we loved and lost are there;
Bright in that fair clime beam those sweet eyes now;
Fanned by its soft breeze floats the shining hair,
Hair we have smoothed back from the gentlest brow;
Softest white hands we kissed and clasped in ours
Slipped from our grasp, lured by its glowing flowers.
Fairer it seems, its velvet walks were sweet,
Dearer its quiet streets, with gold paved o'er,
Since o'er them lightly fall the little feet--
The light feet bounding through our homes no more;
Oh, heart's dear music, tearfully missed,
That city's filled with melody like this.
It is not far away; down from its arches roll
Anthems too sacred for the outward ear,
Pouring their haunting sweetness on the soul;
Oh, how our waiting spirits thrill to hear,
In listening to the low bewildering strain,
Voices they said we should not hear again.
Oh, dear to us that city. He is there,
He whom unseen we love; no need of light;
His tender eyes illume the crystal air
Where His beloved walk in vesture white,
What though on earth they wandered, poor, distressed,
And saw through tears His glory, now they rest.
Oh, that fair city, shining o'er the tide,
Thither we journey through the storm and night;
But soon shall we adown its still bay glide,
Soon will the city's gate gleam on our sight,
There with our own forever shall we be,
In that fair city rising from the sea.
poem by Marietta Holley
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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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Summer Song
The meadow lark’s trill and the brown thrush’s whistle
From morning to evening fill all the sweet air,
And my heart is as light as the down of a thistle –
The world is so bright and the earth is so fair.
There is life in the wood, there is bloom on the meadow;
The air drops with songs that the merry birds sing.
The sunshine has won, in the battle with shadow,
And she’s dressed the glad earth with robes of the spring.
The bee leaves his hive for the field of red clover
And the vale where the daisies bloom white as the snow,
And a mantle of warm yellow sunshine hangs over
The calm little pond, where the pale lillies grow.
In the woodland beyond it, a thousand gay voices
Are singing in chorus some jubilant air.
The bird and the bee and all nature rejoices,
The world is so bright, and the earth is so fair.
I am glad as a child, in this beautiful weather;
I have tossed all my burdens and trials away;
My heart is as light – yes, as light as a feather; -
I am care-free, and careless, and happy to-day.
Can it be there approaches a dark, dreary to-morrow?
Can shadows e’er fall on this beautiful earth?
Ah! To-day is my own! No forebodings of sorrow
Shall darken my skies, or shall dampen my mirth.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Bridal Eve
GOOD-NIGHT, my Heart, my Heart, good-night--
Oh, good and dear and fair,
With lips of life and eyes of light
And roses in your hair.
To-morrow brings the other crown,
The orange blossoms, Sweet,
And then the rose will be cast down
With lilies at your feet.
But in your soul a garden stands
Where fair the white rose blows--
God, teach my foolish clumsy hands
The way to tend my rose.
That in the white-rose garden still
The lily may bloom fair
God help my heart and soul and will
To keep the lily there.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Prisoner Of Love
Dont look back
Whatever it takes to save your life
Ive believed I belonged to you for a long time
And my heart says no, no one but you
Like a rescue on a darkened street
Love walked into town
I was a victim of my own self-persecution
Im a prisoner of love-but Im coming up for air
Now dont be fooled by fools who promise you
The world and all that glitters more fool you
Im such a hungry man that I beg you over and over and over and over
And I might take any highway to be there with you
Even the best men shiver in their beds
Im loving you above everything I have
Im a prisoner of love-just stay square
Like a sermon on a blues guitar
Love walked into town
I was drowning so slowly
One step in front of your shadow
Im a prisoner of love but Im coming up for air
Now dont be fooled by fools who promise you
The world and all that glitters more fool you
I smell the sickness sown in this city
It drives me to hide you, yeah, even deceive you
Im so afraid for you that
Ill break any thug that maps out your passage to ruin
Even the best men shiver in their beds
Im loving you above everything I have
Im a prisoner of love
Im a prisoner of love-just stay square
Take care take care
Im a prisoner of love
Just stay square
Just stay square
Stay out the shooting gallery
Just stay square
I seen the best mans of my generation lay down in cemetary of clematry
Just take care
Just stay square
Just stay square
Dont look back
Beautiful soul
Dont look back
Beautiful soul
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come, Pretty School-Girl!
On this rolling planet ever have you seen
A home so like a palace waiting for its queen? --
A dwelling place so fair,
So fill'd with treasures rare,
As the little white cottage on Evergreen Square?
Come, pretty school girl! lay your books aside;
Yes graduate tomorrow -- tomorrow be my bride;
My fortune share,
And reign queen there,
In the little white cottage on Evergreen Square.
Red as are the roses climbing on its wall,
Your cheeks of richer crimson shall out-bloom them all.
Your eyes (beyond compare)
A brighter gleam shall wear,
In the little white cottage on Everygreen Square.
Flow'rs of rarest fragrance all the year shall bloom,
And singing birds make music in your chosen room.
Come, breathe its balmy air!
Come, charm away my care,
In the little white cottage on Everygreen Square.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Momma
She came up from the country with a smile for everyone
She left her blue horizon just to find another home
A lonely girl whod travelled many days
A lonely heart that could not find a way
(chorus)
And she said momma, its a hard life now youre gone
Momma, its so hard to carry on
And I feel Im a fool who lost it all
You used to make it all so very clear
That life must go on though the end is near
Oh momma, its a sad and lonely life
A misty morning rider she came wandering through the hills
A wanderin soul appearin over rainy window sills
A loser in her heart, but in her face
A smile for everyone under gods grace
(chorus)
Midnight maiden madness, what to search for in this place
Gateway to the city, night sky shadows on her face
A lady lost in nowhere but her stare
Leaves the world, her life to start somewhere
(chorus)
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lines Written in Kensington Gardens
In this lone, open glade I lie,
Screen'd by deep boughs on either hand;
And at its end, to stay the eye,
Those black-crown'd, red-boled pine-trees stand!
Birds here make song, each bird has his,
Across the girdling city's hum.
How green under the boughs it is!
How thick the tremulous sheep-cries come!
Sometimes a child will cross the glade
To take his nurse his broken toy;
Sometimes a thrush flit overhead
Deep in her unknown day's employ.
Here at my feet what wonders pass,
What endless, active life is here!
What blowing daisies, fragrant grass!
An air-stirr'd forest, fresh and clear.
Scarce fresher is the mountain-sod
Where the tired angler lies, stretch'd out,
And, eased of basket and of rod,
Counts his day's spoil, the spotted trout.
In the huge world, which roars hard by,
Be others happy if they can!
But in my helpless cradle I
Was breathed on by the rural Pan.
I, on men's impious uproar hurl'd,
Think often, as I hear them rave,
That peace has left the upper world
And now keeps only in the grave.
Yet here is peace for ever new!
When I who watch them am away,
Still all things in this glade go through
The changes of their quiet day.
Then to their happy rest they pass!
The flowers upclose, the birds are fed,
The night comes down upon the grass,
The child sleeps warmly in his bed.
Calm soul of all things! make it mine
To feel, amid the city's jar,
That there abides a peace of thine,
Man did not make, and cannot mar.
The will to neither strive nor cry,
The power to feel with others give!
Calm, calm me more! nor let me die
Before I have begun to live.
poem by Matthew Arnold
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The Maid Of Jerusalem
Maid of Jerusalem, by the Dead Sea,
I wandered all sorrowing thinking of thee,--
Thy city in ruins, thy kindred deplored,
All fallen and lost by the Ottoman's sword.
I saw thee sit there in disconsolate sighs,
Where the hall of thy fathers a ruined heap lies.
Thy fair finger showed me the place where they trod,
In thy childhood where flourished the city of God.
The place where they fell and the scenes where they lie,
In the tomb of Siloa--the tear in her eye
She stifled: transfixed there it grew like a pearl,
Beneath the dark lash of the sweet Jewish Girl.
Jerusalem is fallen! still thou art in bloom,
As fresh as the ivy around the lone tomb,
And fair as the lily of morning that waves
Its sweet-scented bells over desolate graves.
When I think of Jerusalem in kingdoms yet free,
I shall think of its ruins and think upon thee;
Thou beautiful Jewess, content thou mayest roam;
A bright spot in Eden still blooms as thy home.
poem by John Clare
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Square Peg, Round Hole
He's a square peg in a round hole
Misfit in a slick world
Don't play the game
Don't do what he's told
He's a square peg in a round hole
Square peg don't care
The bright lights he's not there
Catch the shadows see him slip away
Square peg that's what they say
Square peg, Suare peg
Square peg, you have got to be strong
Square peg, he's got his own song
Square peg, I'll see you around
Square peg, face down
Square peg, round hole
song performed by by Chris Rea
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dream Town
Now who is ready to go with me
Off and away to dream town?
Oh, such a journey as that will be,
All dressed in a snow white gown.
No shoe or stocking, they think it shocking
To wear such things in dream town street,
For it's paved with posies and leaves of roses,
So nothing can hurt your feet.
We leave our baggage and clothes behind
When we set out on this jaunt,
The folks who live there are very kind,
They give us whatever we want;
Sometimes a dolly we take, if she's jolly
And good all the day before.
But they've dolls without number in that land of slumber,
And of toys there's a wonderful store.
We shut up our eyes when we set out,
Though why I never have guessed,
There's some good reason I haven't a doubt,
Since every one says it is best.
I think we go faster and keep off disaster,
By folding our eyelids down;
By dropping that curtain I'm almost certain,
The sooner we get to dream town.
Just inside of the city gate,
Smiling and rosy and bright,
The boys and the girls of dream town wait
To play with us all the night.
So rocking and rocking, without shoe or stocking,
All dressed in a little white gown,
Singing and humming, we're coming, we're coming
Into the gates of dream town.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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I Just Drove By
I always go the other way
But my car drove me down today
To a little house on the older side of town
Back when things were never hard
I used to play there in that yard
And I just drove by to see if things had changed
Cokes were just a nickel then
And across the street at the five and ten
A lot of things were cheap and square and strange
And the life we had might have been
But it was one we loved believing in
And I just drove by to see if things had changed
I wondered now
If love is still the way it was back then
I need to know
That life is still a place worth living in
There it is, just like it was
A house where there was always love
I just drove by to see if things had changed
In a world thats seen its better days
Its good to know some things remain
The same, though standing still is not times way
Take to heart while in its spring
That love is just a fragile thing
I just drove by to see if things had changed
song performed by by Wynonna Judd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Maternity
There once was a Square, such a square little Square,
And he loved a trim Triangle;
But she was a flirt and around her skirt
Vainly she made him dangle.
Oh he wanted to wed and he had no dread
Of domestic woes and wrangles;
For he thought that his fate was to procreate
Cute little Squares and Triangles.
Now it happened one day on that geometric way
There swaggered a big bold Cube.
With a haughty stare and he made that Square
Have the air of a perfect boob;
To his solid spell the Triangle fell,
And she thrilled with love's sweet sickness,
For she took delight in his breadth and height -
But how she adored his thickness!
So that poor little Square just died of despair,
For his love he could not strangle;
While the bold Cube led to the bridal bed
That cute and acute Triangle.
The Square's sad lot she has long forgot,
And his passionate pretensions . . .
For she dotes on her kids-Oh such cute Pyramids
In a world of three dimensions.
poem by Robert William Service
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An Epitaph for MJ
The world has lost a king.
Music is in chaos; it bewails his loss,
The one whose life was music.
All danced to his tune;
Now he lies low,
6 feet down,
Waiting for His Grace.
We pray for him,
The one whose music was prayer,
'Heal the world
Make it a better place
For you and for me
And the entire human race'.
Let us pray in unison for this great soul
Whose food was music
And music alone...
'If music be the food of love, play on....'
No music reigned above him,
But it sprang from his soul,
Whose spirit was music.
The charm of music lies within,
And from therein comes his voice.
He reigned like a fresh bloom
In the garden of music.
But now...
He’s gone from earth,
But not from our hearts...
He stays behind,
For coming generations...
There’s no end for MJ...
poem by Hajara Abdul Khader
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Looking For Something
Is there a good way to say goodbye
When youre leaving all you had cause your love has run dry
Is there a good way to be a bad girl
When youre taking all thats given from the world
Is there a good way to move ahead
Without selling out your soul for some water or some bread
Is there a good way to learn your lesson and stay alive
Chorus
Ive been looking for something all of my life
Maybe in some other city Ill see the light
Is there a good way to say goodbye
To this fantasy world to this lie
Is there a good way to get out before youre jaded
I need to find a good way to say goodbye
Is there a good way to say goodbye
Chorus
Ive been looking for something all of my life
Maybe in some other city Ill be alright
Is there a good way to leave him alone
When you find his love just hits too close to home
Is there a good way to deny everything you thought you needed
I need to find a good way to say goodbye
Is there a good way to say goodbye
Chorus
Ive been looking for something all of my life
Maybe Ill find somebody wholl make things alright
Ive been looking for something all of my live
Maybe in some other city Ill be alright
Ive been looking for you
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Schizophrenia
Many voices heard in a head,
surrounded by family now in dread.
Sensing something was so wrong,
the family quietly moved along,
hoping the voices would go away,
praying that they wouldn/t stay.
Shizophrenia, now in full bloom
had come to attack one of their own.
Like a nightmare in the light
It came at daytime, not the night.
Who's this person we don't know
that paces all day to and fro?
Sometimes lucid, sometimes not,
our stomachs tied up in a knot.
Once so normal, that is gone.
Waking up to another dawn,
facing madness that's so sad,
all the goodness has turned bad.
Where are these voices coming from?
They repeat themselves just like a drum.
Are they a different reality
that they can hear and we can't see?
Please let the voices quiet down.
Let's see the smile and not the frown.
The best we can hope for seems bizarre
that somewhere someone is searching far
to find some help that on some day
can make those voices go away.
Until that time we'll try our best
to deal with this. This is our test.
-Dedicated to all schizophrenics and their families
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Praise of Dust
'What of vile dust?' the preacher said.
Methought the whole world woke,
The dead stone lived beneath my foot,
And my whole body spoke.
'You, that play tyrant to the dust,
And stamp its wrinkled face,
This patient star that flings you not
Far into homeless space.
'Come down out of your dusty shrine
The living dust to see,
The flowers that at your sermon's end
Stand blazing silently.
'Rich white and blood-red blossom; stones,
Lichens like fire encrust;
A gleam of blue, a glare of gold,
The vision of the dust.
'Pass them all by: till, as you come
Where, at a city's edge,
Under a tree-I know it well-
Under a lattice ledge,
'The sunshine falls on one brown head.
You, too, O cold of clay,
Eater of stones, may haply hear
The trumpets of that day
'When God to all his paladins
By his own splendour swore
To make a fairer face than heaven,
Of dust and nothing more.'
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Angel Or Demon
You call me an angel of love and of light,
A being of goodness and heavenly fire,
Sent out from God’s kingdom to guide you aright,
In paths where your spirits may mount and aspire.
You say that I glow like a star on its course,
Like a ray from the alter, a spark from the source.
Now list to my answer; let all the world hear it;
I speak unafraid what I know to be true:
A pure, faithful love is the creative spirit
Which makes women angels! I live in but you.
We are bound soul to soul by life’s holiest laws;
If I am an angel – why, you are the cause.
As my ship skims the sea, I look up from the deck.
Fair, firm at the wheel shines Love’s beautiful form,
And shall I curse the barque that last night went to wreck,
By the Pilot abandoned to darkness and storm?
My craft is no stauncher, she too had been lost –
Had the wheelman deserted, or slept at his post.
I laid down the wealth of my soul at your feet
(Some woman does this for some man every day) .
No desperate creature who walks in the street,
Has a wickeder heart that I might have, I say,
Had you wantonly misused the treasures you woon,
-As so many men with heart riches have done.
This flame from God’s altar, this holy love flame,
That burns like sweet incense for ever for you,
Might now be a wild conflagration of shame,
Had you tortured my heart, or been base or untrue.
For angels and devils are cast in one mould,
Till love guides them upward, or downward, I hold.
I tell you the women who make fervent wives
And sweet tender mothers, had Fate been less fair,
Are the women who might have abandoned their lives
To the madness that springs from and ends in despair.
As the fire on the hearth which sheds brightness around,
Neglected, may level the walls to the ground.
The world makes grave errors in judging these things,
Great good and great evil are born in one breast.
Love horns us and hoofs us – or gives us our wings,
And the best could be worst, as the worst could be best.
You must thank your own worth for what I grew to be,
For the demon lurked under the angel in me.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Kansas City Milkman
Born in this place
You only see so far
Hear what we say
If we put the truth in your hands
Would you really like to know
Kansas city milkman
A row of houses
Through the dawn
A sleeping city
Where I was born
I hear laughter
In the early light
Outside the playground
Were I learned to fight
Born in this place
You only see so far
Hear what we say
If we put the truth in your hands
Would you really like to know
Kansas city milkman
I read the papers
Every word
My only access
To the outside world
Yeah ... survival
Thats my game
Just a common man
In that there is no shame ... is there? ...
Too much talking
Information ... in the hands of the few
All the talking
Dis-information ... that we take for the truth
Born in this place
You only see so far
Hear what we say
The world is a stage
And we know just who you are
What part do you play?
If we put the truth in your hands
Would you really like to know
Kansas city milkman
song performed by by Level 42
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What A Wonderfull World
I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.
I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.
The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do
They're really saying I love you.
I hear babies crying, I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll never know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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