Hagar
SHE went along the road,
Her baby in her arms,
The night and its alarms
Made deadlier her load.
Her shrunken breasts were dry;
She felt the hunger bite.
She lay down in the night,
She and the child, to die.
But it would wail, and wail,
And wail. She crept away.
She had no word to say,
Yet still she heard it wail.
She took a jagged stone;
She wished it to be dead.
She beat it on the head;
It only gave one moan.
She has no word to say;
She sits there in the night.
The east sky glints with light,
And it is Christmas Day!
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Related quotes
Wail! , Wail! ! , Wail! ! ! for HAITI.
Wail, ! Wail, ! ! Wail for HAITI! ! ! ! ! !
Wail for the sight is Gory,
Wail for the deaths of these Infants
Wail for the deaths of these women, ; young, and Old
Wail for the loss of the productive workforce of this Nation
Wail for the Calamity that came within few seconds to claim thousands of lives.
Wail for the loss of generations of this Land called Haiti
Wail for the Unconsolable mothers, and fathers for the loss of their loved ones
Wail, if you have tears in your tear glands,
Wail, if you have heart that is meek
May the Almighty console us all, for the sights of the dead in the rubbles too frightening to look.
poem by Segun Rasaki
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Long Black Veil
Ten years ago on a cold dark night
Someone was killed beneath the townhall light
There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
That the slayer who ran looked a lot like me
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me
The judge said son, what is your aliby?
If you were somewhere else, then you wont have to die.
I said not a word, though it meant my life,
For Id been in the arms of my best friends wife.
Oh, she walks these hills in a long black veil.
She visits my grave when the night winds wail.
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.
Oh, now the scaffold is high, eternity is near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
And sometimes at night when the cold winds blow
In a long black veil she cries over my bones.
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.
Oh, she walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees, nobody knows but me.
Nobody knows. nobody knows, but me.
Nobody knows but me.
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Street-Side Elergy
In the night,
If you walk through
This soggy street
Where virtuous spirits
Have gone to bed
And evil spirits roaming,
You will wrench yourself loose of joy
And wail for this street.
If you hear
The hear-renting shrieks
Of victims in this evil night,
You must wail, you must wail
Publicly, for this street.
If you know
How brotherhood is spent
And how humanity is broken
In this broken street,
You must scream hard
To dance away the evil spirits.
If you see brothers
Treating brothers with
The ferocity of jungle beast,
These tears must drop.
These tears on the eye lids
Must drop.
If you walk through this street
In the foggy day light,
You will see broken spirits
All existing and ghostly.
Scream hard and hard
For the living dead,
For the living can still be dead
I found that in this street.
Scream to invite good spirits
To dance away the evil spirits,
If you want to mask,
You can mask
For the night is horrendous.
poem by Stephen Kekeghe
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Cosmopolitan Stink
it is a closed road
so i am included
as one without a
pass
i understand
perfectly
a new set of
dead bodies
whose flesh
are partly
eaten by fish
arrives today
from a boat
that meet
the storm
headlong
it sank
and the pointing fingers
grow like lichens
on the tree
the odors here
are dumped
and the nose
bleeds
body after body
wail after wail
too huge
for the cosmopolitan
street to handle
i shifted
my gaze
and take
another road
a hungry child,
families sleeping on the streets
of the city
imprisoned garbage
angry rats
caught at dead end
corners
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Land Of Christmas
(Carly Simon)
Take me into your hands
Make me into your prayer
Take me away to the land of Christmas
And dismiss my fear
Show me the way
You see I need a way to pass
through the pain
Breathe it and bear it and rise up again
Take me away to the land of Christmas
Where I can receive your kiss
Feel the strength in my heart
And wail like a baby
And sail through the storm
Be tender as Mary
With her newborn son
Is feeling small a very good thing?
Is feeling big really very small?
Take me away to the land of Christmas
Where I won't question your love at all
And when I kneel to you
It doesn't mean I'll get the message right
Take me away to the land of Christmas
Where I can't resist surrendering
And I'll wail like a baby
And sail through the storm
Be tender like Mary
With her newborn son
On Christmas morn
Tender as Mary
With her newborn son
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Long Black Veil
By: m. wilkens & d. dill
Ten years ago, on a cold dark night
Someone was killed, neath the town hall light
There were few at the scene, but they all agreed
That the slayer who ran, looked a lot like me
The judge said son, what is your alibi
If you were somewhere else, then you wont have to die
I spoke not a word, thou it meant my life
For Id been in the arms of my best friends wife
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me
Oh, the scaffold is high and eternitys near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
But late at night, when the north wind blows
In a long black veil, she cries ovre my bones
She walks these hills in a long black veil
She visits my grave when the night winds wail
Nobody knows, nobody sees
Nobody knows but me
Oh, the scaffold is high and eternitys near
She stood in the crowd and shed not a tear
But late at night, when the north wind blows
In a long black veil, she cries ovre my bones
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vain Death
ALL the first night she might not weep
But watched till morning came,
And when she slept at dawn, she heard
The dead man call her name.
The second night she watched and wept
And called on death for grace,
And when she slept before the dawn
She saw the dead man’s face.
The third night through she laughed as one
That knows her way to bliss,
And in the instant ere she slept
She felt the dead man’s kiss.
She rose and faced the flickering fire
(And oh, but she was fair!),
Like a wild witch behind her danced
The shadow of her hair.
She took her penknife from its sheath,
The tender blade she kissed,
And by the firelight’s dying leap
She bared her little wrist.
And where the vein ran large and blue
She cut, once and again,
Yet ere she swooned from life, she knew
Her death had been in vain.
For while life thundered in her ears,
Ere yet her pulse might fail,
Far off across the kindless night
She heard the dead man’s wail,
And knew her doom was one with theirs
That kill the life God gave,
And that she might not leave this earth
Her soul alive to save,
But ay must dwell within that house
As in a living grave,
While he for whom she died might ne’er
Win to her in that place,
But must for ever make his moan
Ranging in agony alone
The trackless void of space
poem by Archibald Thomas Strong
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Solitude Of Loss
Behold thy sister - on a journey so long
behold she leaves to return no more
behold thy sister - thy only companion
remember your times for there'll never be more
wipe your tears 'cos leave she must
no matter the wail she ne'er return
begin to mourn - for your sister is dead
oh this lad shall wail but the deed is done
silence and seethe have crept in to stay
oh the emptiness of loss and sorrow to bear
to carry the load all - all alone
and pigments of grief his face to smear
his life alone - a thing to learn
his morn of mourn shall be of darkness
the pain of loss shall be his own
and his nights shall be of torment and coldness
oh! the grieving psyche of him
death has failed to complete his work
the spiritual bond is not severed
his life to mourn forever locked
poem by Mbanaso Samuel
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Sing me Gypsy [Cântă-mi lăutare]
- Sing the doina, Gypsy dear,
Of all those who went away
To new countries, far from here,
By vain wishes led astray!...
The old man, with lowered brow,
Holds his fiddle, looking pale:
- Well, this song, I tell you now,
Is not sung, for it's a wail!
- Wail it, then, to hear the tune
Of those gone for good, no doubt,
Who have left their homes too soon
And in foreign lands die out...
The old man, with dreary eyes,
Looks at me as if he's blind:
- Well, this song in life – and sighs,
Is not sung, is heard in mind.
poem by Ion Minulescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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On Watching Discovery Channel
this i heard
in the middle of
an unsettling night
a joyful cry of a seal
this i saw
in the middle of
a restive night
a seal licking its
infant in glee
this too i heard
a piercing wail
cracking the feverish night
as the infant breathed
its last...
followed by silence
and grieving eyes
the seal slowly slid back
into the ocean
a huge lump
didn't allow me to swallow
the remaining dark night
06jun2010
01.30hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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(Family poems) Family violence
Last night while
you were sleeping
The stars were
brilliant in heaven
Last night when
You were dreaming
we heard those blood
curdling yells as
if in a nightmare
Last night
when you were
Sound asleep
We jumped up
to hide under the bed
Last night when you
were snoring
in dreamland a stray
Bullet hit the wall
you can see the hole
Right there next to
where you're resting
Last night when you
were guarded safely
By God and the angels
we heard the gun shots
Last night when you
were chatting to
The fairies who come
to fetch you to fairyland
We went outside
to see for ourselves
Last night when you
refused to wake up and
You threatened to cut
our bus fares
The police came to
arrest your friend
You know the man of
the house next door
Last night when you
were angry with us
The people from
the mortuary came
To fetch the corpse
of the dead woman
next door
We cry
We will never
see her again
She who
was so full of
life and happiness
You wake up to whimper and
wail and weep about
what's happening
Behind the false smiles
And the closed doors
in this neighborhood
It's not easy to trust
The menfolk
we love so much
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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A Lament For Adonis
Cytherea, thy dainty Adonis is dying!
Ah, what shall we do?
O Nymphs, let it echo, the voice of your crying,
The greenwood through!
O Forest-maidens, smite on the breast,
Rend ye the delicate-woven vest!
Let the wail ring wild and high:
'Ah for Adonis!' cry.
O Sappho, how canst thou chant the bliss
Of Kypris — after such day as this?
'Oh Adonis, thou leavest me — woe for my lot!
And Eros, my servant, availeth me not!'
So wails Cytherea, grief-distraught.
'Who shall console me for thee? There is none —
Not Ares my god-lover, passionate one
Who sware in his jealousy forth to hale
Hephaestus my spouse from his palace, if he
Dared but to lift his eyes unto me.
Not he can console me, Adonis, for thee!'
Wail for Adonis, wail!
Just Kiddin' (blame Henny Youngman)
A lovely young lady
was pounding and cursing
at my hotel room door
The other night
The noise was alarming
And quite disarming
So I gave up
and turned on the light
She continued to wail
Continued to shout
no sleep was to be had
this night, no doubt
So I decided to aid
This ungrateful young maid
I finally got up…
And let the young lady…out
poem by David Whalen
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The Death Of Aliatar
FROM THE SPANISH.
'Tis not with gilded sabres
That gleam in baldricks blue,
Nor nodding plumes in caps of Fez,
Of gay and gaudy hue--
But, habited in mourning weeds,
Come marching from afar,
By four and four, the valiant men
Who fought with Aliatar.
All mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
The banner of the Phenix,
The flag that loved the sky,
That scarce the wind dared wanton with,
It flew so proud and high--
Now leaves its place in battle-field,
And sweeps the ground in grief,
The bearer drags its glorious folds
Behind the fallen chief,
As mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
Brave Aliatar led forward
A hundred Moors to go
To where his brother held Motril
Against the leaguering foe.
On horseback went the gallant Moor,
That gallant band to lead;
And now his bier is at the gate,
From whence he pricked his steed.
While mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
The knights of the Grand Master
In crowded ambush lay;
They rushed upon him where the reeds
Were thick beside the way;
They smote the valiant Aliatar,
They smote the warrior dead,
And broken, but not beaten, were
The gallant ranks he led.
Now mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
Oh! what was Zayda's sorrow,
How passionate her cries!
Her lover's wounds streamed not more free
Than that poor maiden's eyes.
Say, Love--for didst thou see her tears:
Oh, no! he drew more tight
The blinding fillet o'er his lids
To spare his eyes the sight.
While mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
Nor Zayda weeps him only,
But all that dwell between
The great Alhambra's palace walls
And springs of Albaicin.
The ladies weep the flower of knights,
The brave the bravest here;
The people weep a champion,
The Alcaydes a noble peer.
While mournfully and slowly
The afflicted warriors come,
To the deep wail of the trumpet,
And beat of muffled drum.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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Wayward Dreams
Last night a dream cast a shadow
Over my all too empty bed,
That an angel had lost her way
A wayward woman wanderin'.
Troubled, bewildered, and forlorn,
Dark, confused, weary she appeared
Over many a mumbled word,
Soundin' heart-broke, I heard her say:
‘Oh my wayward dreams! do they cry,
Do they hear their lover sighin'?
Do they not see what we have lost,
Will they not stop and weep for me? '
Her tears fell as I came closer:
I took her hand and drew her near,
And said, ‘Wail not into the night
For your plight and mine are the same.
‘That which was once held can be found,
That which was once found can be ours:
Follow me, we will find the way;
Back to our wayward dreams and home! '
poem by MacGregor Tagliaferro
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What Semiramis Said
The moon's a steaming chalice,
Of honey and venom-wine.
A little of it sipped by night
Makes the long hours divine.
But oh, my reckless lovers,
They drain the cup and wail,
Die at my feet with shaking limbs
And tender lips all pale.
Above them in the sky it bends
Empty and gray and dead.
To-morrow night 'tis full again,
Golden, and foaming red.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Stars In The Night
Look, look at the stars
How brilliant they are
How can they be shining now?
When hope is so far
Look, look how they shine
These cruelest of stars
What fire inspires them,
What faith is it fires them?
Darkness grows,the world turns cold
And still, there glows the light
Heaven knows what hope they hold tonight
Look,look how they shine
These stars in the night
The darker the night becomes
The brighter their light becomes
Chill winds wail
The tempest blues
and clouds asail the sky
Through the veil,
The stars refuse to die
In this world of darkest night
Where hope is hurled away
There they are
And still, there's light
Oh,so far, but will they
There they lift our hearts
As we lift our eyes
Are we fools to see
The harmony that fills the sky
Look,there's the light
Stars In The Night
The Stars In The Night
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dragon and I
I sat one night on hill top high
And hummed the saddest tune
The thoughts i had just made me cry
As i stared at the moon
I felt the earth begin to shake
Below my trembling feet
The hill such sounds began to make
I really was quite beat
I glanced below, let out a wail
For something there was heaving
I'd sat upon a dragon's tale
And he was fire breathing!
'Spare me! dragon I am small
I cannot be that tasty! '
He soon replied with dragon's roar
'I'm really not that hasty'
'I wondered why your crying so
Your sobs woke me from sleeping,
I thought that you may share them so
Those saddest thoughts you're keeping'
So there i sat and spoke my mind
About the thoughts I kept
And how i stared up at the moon
And cried while he had slept
'Sadness is an awful thing'
He murmured as he thought
'At times like this i often sing!
though dragons didn't ought'
'Oh great! ' cried I with impish grin
emblazoned on my face
'Let's hit some notes some low some high
and rock this lonely place! '
So there we were on hill top high
My Dragon friend and me
Just singing songs for all we're worth
We carried on 'till tea.
The moral of my little tale?
It's great to be enlightened
Should you hear a Dragons wail
Then don't be quite so frightened!
poem by Dave James
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A Sweet Lullaby
Come, little babe; come, silly soul,
Thy father's shame, thy mother's grief,
Born, as I doubt, to all our dole
And to thyself unhappy chief:
Sing lullaby, and lap it warm,
Poor soul that thinks no creature harm.
Thou little think'st and less dost know
The cause of this thy mother's moan,
Thou want'st the wit to wail her woe,
And I myself am all alone.
Why dost thou weep? why dost thou wail?
And knowest not yet what thou dost ail.
Come, little wretch - ah, silly heart,
Mine only joy, what can I more?
If there be any wrong thy smart,
That may the destines implore,
'Twas I, I say, against my will;
I wail the time, but be thou still.
And dost thou smile? Oh, thy sweet face,
Would God himself he might thee see;
No doubt thou wouldst soon purchase grace,
I know right well, for thee and me,
But come to mother, babe, and play,
For father false is fled away.
Sweet boy, if it by fortune chance
Thy father home again to send,
If death do strike me with his lance,
Yet mayst thou me to him commend;
If any ask thy mother's name,
Tell how by love she purchased blame.
Then will his gentle heart soon yield;
I know him of a noble mind.
Although a lion in the field,
A lamb in town thou shalt him find.
Ask blessing, babe, be not afraid;
His sugared words hath me betrayed.
Then mayst thou joy and be right glad,
Although in woe I seem to moan,
Thy father is no rascal lad,
A noble youth of blood and bone;
His glancing looks, if he once smile,
Right honest women may beguile.
Come, little boy, and rock asleep,
Sing lullaby, and be thou still;
I that can do nought else but weep
Will sit by thee and wail my fill.
God bless my babe, and lullaby,
From this thy father's quality.
poem by Nicholas Breton
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A Little While
A little while a little love
The hour yet bears for thee and me
Who have not drawn the veil to see
If still our heaven be lit above.
Thou merely, at the day's last sigh,
Hast felt thy soul prolong the tone;
And I have heard the night-wind cry
And deemed its speech mine own.
A little while a little love
The scattering autumn hoards for us
Whose bower is not yet ruinous
Nor quite unleaved our songless grove.
Only across the shaken boughs
We hear the flood-tides seek the sea,
And deep in both our hearts they rouse
One wail for thee and me.
A little while a little love
May yet be ours who have not said
The word it makes our eyes afraid
To know that each is thinking of.
Not yet the end: be our lips dumb
In smiles a little season yet:
I'll tell thee, when the end is come,
How we may best forget.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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