Sonnet
STILL northward is the central mount of Maine,
From whose high crown the rugged forests seem
Like shaven lawns, and lakes with frequent gleam,
'Like broken mirrors,' flash back light again.
Eastward the sea, with its majestic plain,
Endless, of radiant, restless blue, superb
With might and music, whether storms perturb
Its reckless waves, or halcyon winds that reign,
Make it serene as wisdom. Storied Spain
Is the next coast, and yet we may not sigh
For lands beyond the inexorable main;
Our noble scenes have yet no history.
All subtler charms than those that feed the eye,
Our lives must give them; 'tis an aim austere,
But opes new vistas, and a pathway clear.
poem by Emma Lazarus
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Moonbeams Ballade
Each night you boldly face the jury,
Perched high upon your heavenly throne.
Eloquently repeating your wondrous story
Of never-ending love in flesh and bone.
Giving listening earth a heart of its own
And a yearning for joys still unseen,
Pleasures remaining yet unknown.
Forever may your light glow serene.
Your presence makes no one sorry.
The somber owl has no reason to groan.
His musings from the limestone quarry
Only make his sublime design known.
By your majesty darkness is overthrown.
The romantic cricket sings to his queen
Whose beauty he desires to be shown.
Forever may your light glow serene.
Your soothing glow calms the night’s fury,
Giving every figure an aesthetic tone.
On my windowsill the gleam of your glory
And in my room your royalty overflown.
Every apple of discord you have shone,
By the waxing of your noble sheen.
The shadow of gloom and grief has gone.
Forever may your light glow serene.
High above our arch have you flown,
As you ushered in the Master’s routine.
There you reign enthroned on high alone.
Forever may your light glow serene.
poem by Albert Price
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Wamblee
High up on a rocky crag,
Wamblee, near to the cliff edge
sat cross legged in a circle on the ground
calling softly to the four winds.
His long plaits, threaded with silver
lay beneath feathers running down his back.
Far below him the canyon stretched out
dusty and red hot.
As the hypnotic chant of his words
caught the warm air riding the canyon top
his heart took flight
soaring above the high dusty plain.
Born on the wind,
his eagle wings outstretched
he sailed aloft snow covered mountains
glinting in the light of Grandfather Sun.
South through deep valleys,
lush with green and wonder,
feeling the rhythm of the world
beneath his feathers.
Across the turbulent southern ocean
full of the whale's song,
eastward across the great African Plain,
northward towards the Northern lights.
Onward and upward
feeling the firmament and the dawn of stars
he flew between darkness and light.
There, in that sacred space between
the creator and the created
Wamblee saw with clear vision
the beauty of the Great Spirit
laid out before him in the earth below
and the heavens above.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Love's Demesne
Old memories come trooping down
The vistas of the years;
In blue-girt robes of pleasure clad
Or garbed in tears.
Down from the days when hope was young
And sorrow never born,
My thoughts sweep o'er remembered scenes
Unto this morn.
Though motley company they are
Of smile or tear or frown,
They hold aloft the burnished gold
Of my heart's crown.
For through it all and over all
There gleams the light serene,
On purpled walls and crimson heights
In love's demesne.
poem by Joseph Seamon Cotter
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Echo
How sweet the answer Echo makes
To music at night,
When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,
And far away, o'er lawns and lakes,
Goes answering light.
Yet Love hath echoes truer far,
And far more sweet,
Than e'er beneath the moonlight's star,
Of horn or lute, or soft guitar,
The songs repeat.
'Tis when the sigh, in youth sincere,
And only then --
The sigh that's breathed for one to hear,
Is by that one, that only dear,
Breathed back again!
poem by Thomas Moore
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Written On Sunday Morning
Go thou and seek the House of Prayer!
I to the Woodlands wend, and there
In lovely Nature see the GOD OF LOVE.
The swelling organ's peal
Wakes not my soul to zeal,
Like the wild music of the wind-swept grove.
The gorgeous altar and the mystic vest
Rouse not such ardor in my breast,
As where the noon-tide beam
Flash'd from the broken stream,
Quick vibrates on the dazzled sight;
Or where the cloud-suspended rain
Sweeps in shadows o'er the plain;
Or when reclining on the clift's huge height
I mark the billows burst in silver light.
Go thou and seek the House of Prayer!
I to the Woodlands shall repair,
Feed with all Natures charms mine eyes,
And hear all Natures melodies.
The primrose bank shall there dispense
Faint fragrance to the awaken'd sense,
The morning beams that life and joy impart
Shall with their influence warm my heart.
And the full tear that down my cheek will steal,
Shall speak the prayer of praise I feel!
Go thou and seek the House of Prayer!
I to the woodlands bend my way
And meet RELIGION there.
She needs not haunt the high-arch'd dome to pray
Where storied windows dim the doubtful day:
With LIBERTY she loves to rove.
Wide o'er the heathy hill or cowslip'd dale;
Or seek the shelter of the embowering grove,
Sweet are these scenes to her, and when the night
Pours in the north her silver streams of light,
She woos Reflexion in the silent gloom,
And ponders on the world to come.
poem by Robert Southey
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Flamingoes Fly
Lie by my side in the still of the night
And morning brings forth all its wondrous delight
You couldnt have made it more plain
When I hear that soft refrain
And I hear you gently sigh
I wanna take you where flamingoes fly, flamingoes fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingoes fly
Lie in the dark with the sweet sound of the nightingale
And listen for lark, and I will tell you a tale
Soft winds blowin, blowin outside
I wanna take that moonlight ride
When I hear you gently sigh
I wanna take you where flamingoes fly, flamingoes fly
Way over yonder, yeah in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingoes fly
Silently waiting for that morning light to shine
Yeah, and Im looking at you, looking at me
And Im looking at you
And anticipating
Each and every, each and every sign
And Im looking at you, looking at me
And Im looking at you, looking at me
Looking at you, looking at me, looking at you
I follow the road that will take me, take me back home
And carry that load where the deer and the provincial angels roam
Happiness touches me now
Who knows where it came from and how, but
When I hear you gently sigh
I wanna, wanna take you where flamingoes fly, flamingoes fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingoes fly, flamingoes fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingoes fly
You see those flamingoes fly
Ya see those, ya see those, ya see those
Ya see those, ya see those, ya see those flamingoes fly
Look over yonder, look over yonder, darling
Look over yonder, darling
Ya take it by the ocean, ya take it, ya take it by the ocean
Mmm uhhh, take it by the ocean
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Amateur Poet
You see that sheaf of slender books
Upon the topmost shelf,
At which no browser ever looks,
Because they're by . . . myself;
They're neatly bound in navy blue,
But no one ever heeds;
Their print is clear and candid too,
Yet no one ever reads.
Poor wistful books! How much they cost
To me in time and gold!
I count them now as labour lost,
For none I ever sold;
No copy could I give away,
For all my friends would shrink,
And look at me as if to say:
"What waste of printer's ink!"
And as I gaze at them on high,
Although my eyes are sad,
I cannot help but breathe a sigh
To think what joy I had -
What ecstasy as I would seek
To make my rhyme come right,
And find at last the phrase unique
Flash fulgent in my sight.
Maybe that rapture was my gain
Far more than cheap success;
So I'll forget my striving vain,
And blot out bitterness.
Oh records of my radiant youth,
No broken heart I'll rue,
For all my best of love and truth
Is there, alive in you.
poem by Robert William Service
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O City, Look the Eastward Way
O CITY, look the Eastward way!
Beyond thy roofs of shadowy red and grey
Floats like a lily on the airy stream,
Radiant and vast, a cloud,
Around whose billowy head
Splendour from out the glooming West is shed
As if it were not ever to take flight,—
And on its edge of gleam
In the clear blue of waning afternoon,
Faint as a spirit slipping from the shroud,
Faint, and yet gathering light,
The Moon.
O city, dream and pray!
This is thy evensong at close of day.
poem by Enid Derham
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God Of Thunder
The lakes blue ripples display their gleam
Sun rays reflecting upon them with ease
Small to minute current rolls
But with naked eye barely seen
The shoreline was edged uneven
With sand and rock making borderlines
Drawing the earths natural seperation's
Of the water and the sod-So Divine
The electricity arrived in thin air's ozone
And thunder claps-in the distance borne
Soon-the lightening flash could be seen
Striking the lakes blue gleam
Flashing zig-zags of lightening bolts
Echoing Thor's Thudding screams!
poem by Theodora Onken
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Endless Vistas
I sat upon a grey slate rock,
and looked into the distance blue.
There on a hill I saw a flock
of sheep. Eating the green grass, new.
Gazing with awe at this charmed scene,
sunbeams began to pierce the haze,
and shine down on this site serene.
One of those sweet halcyon days.
The bleating of the newborn lambs.
The warbling of numerous birds.
The watchfulness of angry rams,
guarding their offspring in the herds.
Our countryside shows wondrous views,
that please the eye when first discerned.
Endless vistas for us to choose.
Our sheer delight, each one has earned.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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St. Philip And St. James
Dear is the morning gale of spring,
And dear th' autumnal eve;
But few delights can summer bring
A Poet's crown to weave.
Her bowers are mute, her fountains dry,
And ever Fancy's wing
Speed's from beneath her cloudless sky
To autumn or to spring.
Sweet is the infant's waking smile,
And sweet the old man's rest -
But middle age by no fond wile,
No soothing calm is blest.
Still in the world's hot restless gleam
She plies her weary task,
While vainly for some pleasant dream
Her wandering glances ask. -
O shame upon thee, listless heart,
So sad a sigh to heave,
As if thy SAVIOUR had no part
In thoughts, that make thee grieve.
As if along His lonesome way
He had not borne for thee
Sad languors through the summer day,
Storms on the wintry sea.
Youth's lightning flash of joy secure
Passed seldom o'er His spright, -
A well of serious thought and pure.
Too deep for earthly light.
No spring was His--no fairy gleam -
For He by trial knew
How cold and bare what mortals dream,
To worlds where all is true.
Then grudge not thou the anguish keen
Which makes thee like thy LORD,
And learn to quit with eye serene
Thy youth's ideal hoard.
Thy treasured hopes and raptures high -
Unmurmuring let them go,
Nor grieve the bliss should quickly fly
Which CHRIST disdained to know.
Thou shalt have joy in sadness soon;
The pure, calm hope be thine,
Which brightens, like the eastern moon,
As day's wild lights decline.
Thus souls, by nature pitched too high,
By sufferings plunged too low,
Meet in the Church's middle sky,
Half way 'twixt joy and woe,
To practise there the soothing lay
That sorrow best relieves;
Thankful for all God takes away,
Humbled by all He glass.
poem by John Keble
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Back To The Coast
West coast, try outs
You've got to make it before you die out
New York is the hard way
Time to pack it up and get to L.A.
If you want to be a star get back to the coast
Back to the coast
You're gonna make it real far so get back to the coast
Back to the coast
My way is the sky way
Ain't got no time for the highway
I've got to get to the coast, fast as I can
Get to L.A. we'll be the number one band
If you want to be a star get back to the coast
Back to the coast
You're gonna make it real far so get back to the coast
Back to the coast (come on)
You've got to get on back (get back)
If you want to be a star get back to the coast
Back to the coast
You're gonna make it real far so get back to the coast
Back to the coast
I say back back back back back, back to the coast
Oooo, yeah get back back back back back, back to the coast
Whoa yeah
If you want to be a star get back to the coast
Back to the coast
You're gonna make it real far so get back to the coast
Back to the coast (oh, get on back), back to the coast
song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet Music
New sensation (3x)
Check out this groove and you're
Walkin' on air
Going into a new
Dimension, yeah
So put your vibes on my beat
And we'll lay it down like that
Slap the hi-hat in
Put the fairlight on the track
Ooh
And we can go
Crazy like that
Feelin' like that
Movin' like that
Drop it like that
Rockin' the track
I'm lookin for that new sensation
Woo hoo
I think we're on to somethin'
You're taste it mirrors mine
So high I'm in the moment
Let's make this demo right
I might just lose it
Woo hoo
When we make sweet music
Doesn't it bend the waves
that's in the air, yeah
Got samples and scratches
Let's do it, right here
Boys and girls.....a different kind of sound
'Cause every heartbeat babe
Is the soundtrack to your life, oh
And every man out there must be sent
To get me high
And we can go
Crazy like that
Feelin' like that
Movin' like that
Drop it like that
Rockin' the track
I'm lookin for that new sensation
Woo hoo
I think we're on to somethin'
You're taste it mirrors mine
So high I'm in the moment
Let's make this demo right
I might just lose it
Woo hoo
When we make sweet music
When we make sweet music
Oh yeah yeah yeah
When we make sweet music
Oh yeah yeah yeah
When we make sweet music
yeah yeah yeah
When we make sweet music
I think we're on to somethin'
Your taste it mirrors mine
So high I'm in the moment
Lets make this demo right
I might just lose it
When we make sweet music
And we can go
Crazy like that
Feelin' like that
Movin' like that
Drop it like that
Rockin' the track
I'm lookin for that new sensation
Woo hoo
I think we're on to somethin'
You're taste it mirrors mine
So high I'm in the moment
Let's make this demo right
I might just lose it
Woo hoo
When we make sweet music
Woo hoo
I think we're on to somethin'
You're taste it mirrors mine
So high I'm in the moment
Let's make this demo right
I might just lose it
Woo hoo
When we make sweet music
When we make sweet music
When we make sweet music
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reign Of Blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows cascading down upon your shoulders
Far too many men dressed up as soldiers
The lamb is brought to the ground
Under the weight of the crown
A crown of thorns and dark deeds
The swastika and the hammer and symbol
Are sickles that reap only weeds
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows precedes a storm of revolution
People have no place in their solution
So torture raises its head
Decked out in blue, white, and red
And iron maidens will slam
And by the half light of burning republics
Joe stalin looks just like uncle sam
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows has washed away the corpse of abel,
Cain is now the king in every babel
I just dont care who you are
When death draws up in his car
And talks in terrorist tones
Remember violence is only a vote for the
Black queen to take back the throne
Reign of blows
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reign Of Blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows cascading down upon your shoulders
Far too many men dressed up as soldiers
The lamb is brought to the ground
Under the weight of the crown
A crown of thorns and dark deeds
The swastika and the hammer and symbol
Are sickles that reap only weeds
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows precedes a storm of revolution
People have no place in their solution
So torture raises its head
Decked out in blue, white, and red
And iron maidens will slam
And by the half light of burning republics
Joe stalin looks just like uncle sam
Reign of blows
Reign of blows
Reign of blows has washed away the corpse of abel,
Cain is now the king in every babel
I just dont care who you are
When death draws up in his car
And talks in terrorist tones
Remember violence is only a vote for the
Black queen to take back the throne
Reign of blows
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rule Britannia
When Britain first, at Heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main;
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sung this strain:
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
The nations, not so blest as thee,
Must, in their turns, to tyrants fall:
While thou shalt flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful, from each foreign stroke:
As the loud blast that tears the skies,
Serves but to root thy native oak.
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame:
All their attempts to bend thee down,
Will but arouse thy generous flame;
But work their woe, and thy renown.
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
To thee belongs the rural reign;
Thy cities shall with commerce shine:
All thine shall be the subject main,
And every shore it circles thine.
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
The Muses, still with freedom found,
Shall to thy happy coast repair:
Blest isle! with matchless beauty crown'd,
And manly hearts to guard the fair.
"Rule, Britannia, rule the waves;
Britons never will be slaves."
poem by James Thomson
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Reckless
You make me reckless, reckless everyday
You make me reckless
Standin by the disco floor
Spot this girl
My heart jump and move
Yeah, yeah
Walk over said to her
Lovely things
She said I was a fool
Oh no
She said
This is not the right time baby
I came here to groove
Hmmmmmmm
And recklessly
I took my time
When I look back
The girls had made a move
Yeah, yeah
The music played on, played on
Why didnt you make your move
Somebody came on, came on
And stole the girl from you
Its the groove
That makes you move
So come on and get down
To this funky sound
Do what you please
You are entitled to flaunt
Get wild and reckless
If you want
cause the sound we deliver
Will take you higher
Most definately with
Desire, desire, de si si si sire
You make me reckless, reckless everyday
You make me reckless
You make me reckless, reckless everyday
You make me reckless
You make me reckless, reckless everyday
You make me reckless
You make me reckless, reckless everyday
You make me reckless
So as the music play
I had to find a way
To catch her eye
Yeah, yeah
The partner she was with
He did not know how to gig
Said i
Oh no
She said
Mister get away from me
I need a man
That knows how to move
Yeah, yeah
We start to dance
Suddenly a quick romance
Ooooo yeah, yeah
The music played on, played on
Why didnt you make your move
Somebody came on, came on
And stole the girl from you
This is a message
That you should discover
You cant trust a girl
Or judge them by the cover
They can lead you on
And keep you in a daze
Keep you head over heels
And keep you amazed
Its up to you
Whether you fall in the trap
Just remember when you push up
To have a strong rap
Cos now-a-days
Things are real funny
You can bet more than all she wants
Is your money
So listen to what I say
With or without
Yo, the girls is ok
Girls are the same everywhere
You can bet all they want from you
Is what they can get
And when they finish
You can bet that youve tried her
Theyll leave you penniless
With desire
You make me reckless
You make me reckless, reckless everyday
You make me reckless
song performed by by Ub40
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Out of all the masts [Dintre sute de catarge]
Out of all the masts that sail
Far away when the sea raves
How many will be destroyed
By the winds and by the waves?
Out of all the birds that fly
Over lands with their wings
How many will be wiped out
By the waves and by the winds?
If you chase away your luck
Your ideals and your aims
You'll be followed everywhere
By the winds and by the waves.
And your thought remains unknown
When you gently sing your hymns
But is carried all around
By the waves and by the winds.
poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by Octavian Cocoş
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To S. M. A Young African Painter, On Seeing His Works
TO show the lab'ring bosom's deep intent,
And thought in living characters to paint,
When first thy pencil did those beauties give,
And breathing figures learnt from thee to live,
How did those prospects give my soul delight,
A new creation rushing on my sight?
Still, wond'rous youth! each noble path pursue,
On deathless glories fix thine ardent view:
Still may the painter's and the poet's fire
To aid thy pencil, and thy verse conspire!
And may the charms of each seraphic theme
Conduct thy footsteps to immortal fame!
High to the blissful wonders of the skies
Elate thy soul, and raise thy wishful eyes.
Thrice happy, when exalted to survey
That splendid city, crown'd with endless day,
Whose twice six gates on radiant hinges ring:
Celestial Salem blooms in endless spring.
Calm and serene thy moments glide along,
And may the muse inspire each future song!
Still, with the sweets of contemplation bless'd,
May peace with balmy wings your soul invest!
But when these shades of time are chas'd away,
And darkness ends in everlasting day,
On what seraphic pinions shall we move,
And view the landscapes in the realms above?
There shall thy tongue in heav'nly murmurs flow,
And there my muse with heav'nly transport glow:
No more to tell of Damon's tender sighs,
Or rising radiance of Aurora's eyes,
For nobler themes demand a nobler strain,
And purer language on th' ethereal plain.
Cease, gentle muse! the solemn gloom of night
Now seals the fair creation from my sight.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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The Shepherd And The Calm
Soothing his Passions with a warb'ling Sound,
A Shepherd-Swain lay stretch'd upon the Ground;
Whilst all were mov'd, who their Attention lent,
Or with the Harmony in Chorus went,
To something less than Joy, yet more than dull Content.
(Between which two Extreams true Pleasure lies,
O'er-run by Fools, unreach'd-at by the Wise )
But yet, a fatal Prospect to the Sea
Wou'd often draw his greedy Sight away.
He saw the Barques unlading on the Shore,
And guess'd their Wealth, then scorn'd his little Store.
Then wou'd that Little lose, or else wou'd make it more.
To Merchandize converted is the Fold,
The Bag, the Bottle, and the Hurdles sold;
The Dog was chang'd away, the pretty Skell
Whom he had fed, and taught, and lov'd so well.
In vain the Phillis wept, which heretofore
Receiv'd his Presents, and his Garlands wore.
False and upbraided, he forsakes the Downs,
Nor courts her Smiles, nor fears the Ocean's Frowns.
For smooth it lay, as if one single Wave
Made all the Sea, nor Winds that Sea cou'd heave;
Which blew no more than might his Sails supply:
Clear was the Air below, and Phoebus laugh'd on high.
With this Advent'rer ev'ry thing combines,
And Gold to Gold his happy Voyage joins;
But not so prosp'rous was the next Essay,
For rugged Blasts encounter'd on the way,
Scarce cou'd the Men escape, the Deep had all their Prey.
Our broken Merchant in the Wreck was thrown
Upon those Lands, which once had been his own;
Where other Flocks now pastur'd on the Grass,
And other Corydons had woo'd his Lass.
A Servant, for small Profits, there he turns,
Yet thrives again, and less and less he mourns;
Re-purchases in time th'abandon'd Sheep,
Which sad Experience taught him now to keep.
When from that very Bank, one Halcyon Day,
On which he lean'd, when tempted to the Sea,
He notes a Calm; the Winds and Waves were still,
And promis'd what the Winds nor Waves fulfill,
A settl'd Quiet, and Conveyance sure,
To him that Wealth, by Traffick, wou'd procure.
But the rough part the Shepherd now performs,
Reviles the Cheat, and at the Flatt'ry storms.
Ev'n thus (quoth he) you seem'd all Rest and Ease,
You sleeping Tempests, you untroubl'd Seas,
That ne'er to be forgot, that luckless Hour,
In which I put my Fortunes in your Pow'r;
Quitting my slender, but secure Estate,
My undisturb'd Repose, my sweet Retreat,
For Treasures which you ravish'd in a Day,
But swept my Folly, with my Goods, away.
Then smile no more, nor these false Shews employ,
Thou momentary Calm, thou fleeting Joy;
No more on me shall these fair Signs prevail,
Some other Novice may be won to Sail,
Give me a certain Fate in the obscurest Vale.
poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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