En.Citatepedia^®.ro

October 21, 1905

The hundred years have passed, and he
Whose name appeased a nation's fears,
As with a hand laid over sea;
To thunder through the foeman's ears
Defeat before his blast of fire;
Lives in the immortality
That poets dream and noblest souls desire.

Never did nation's need evoke
Hero like him for aid, the while
A Continent was cannon-smoke
Or peace in slavery: this one Isle
Reflecting Nature: this one man
Her sea-hound and her mortal stroke,
With war-worn body aye in battle's van.

And do we love him well, as well
As he his country, we may greet,
With hand on steel, our passing bell
Nigh on the swing, for prelude sweet
To the music heard when his last breath
Hung on its ebb beside the knell,
And VICTORY in his ear sang gracious Death.

Ah, day of glory! day of tears!
Day of a people bowed as one!
Behold across those hundred years
The lion flash of gun at gun:
Our bitter pride; our love bereaved;
What pall of cloud o'ercame our sun
That day, to bear his wreath, the end achieved.

Joy that no more with murder's frown
The ancient rivals bark apart.
Now Nelson to brave France is shown
A hero after her own heart:
And he now scanning that quick race,
To whom through life his glove was thrown,
Would know a sister spirit to embrace.

poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Charge Of The Light Brigade

HALF a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd ?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade ?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
.

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I am My Hero

Of

course! !

I am a hero,
my hero,
your hero,

CNN hero,
Fox Taxis Oil toxic hero

my street mate hero,

my African roommate hero,

United nation hero,

unesco
unicef

moncef
duracef

charl
du champs hero,

picasso hero

mozart,
bethoven
chichina
lovesky

hero,

and everybody hero?

of! course! ! ! ! !

-not off course-
I LOVE
MYSELF...

DO YOU THINK

OR DREAM

I OR i

WILL SELL MY SELF? ? ?
? ? ?

OR ASK FOR

YOUR

APPROVAL,

SQUARED AND OVAL

AS YOU

LOVE IT TO BE..

Of course i am
my own hero

but,
also

i am sure...
everyone is my hero.

poem by Atef Ayadi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hero-Worship

A face seen passing in a crowded street,
A voice heard singing music, large and free;
And from that moment life is changed, and we
Become of more heroic temper, meet
To freely ask and give, a man complete
Radiant because of faith, we dare to be
What Nature meant us. Brave idolatry
Which can conceive a hero! No deceit,
No knowledge taught by unrelenting years,
Can quench this fierce, untamable desire.
We know that what we long for once achieved
Will cease to satisfy. Be still our fears;
If what we worship fail us, still the fire
Burns on, and it is much to have believed.

poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Centennial

Come all ye friends of Liberty,
Who love our good old nation,
Let hands and hearts united be,
And beat the wide creation.
For this is our Centennial year,
The birthday of our nation;
For it is just one hundred years
That's stood our good old nation.

CHORUS:

Centennial! Centennial!
Hurrah to the Centennial;
And many, many people gone
To our national Centennial.

To Philadelphia people went,
And more was sure to go, sir;
They say there was things to be seen
Of a hundred years ago, sir.
Come all ye sons of liberty,
That love our good old nation,
Unite and keep our country free,
And the stars and stripes a waving.

The revolutionary war was fought
To gain our independence,
That we a nation great may be,
Both free and independent.
They fought the British, far and near,
For freedom, and they gained it --
In Centennial years of Jubilee,
Let Columbia's sons maintain it.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Hero Laid to Rest

A Hero Laid to Rest
By: Venice Roberts
A hero born one summer day,
A Son, a Brother, in a special way,
Being Strong, Tough, and Brave,
Millions of lives he's willing to save,

They bombed the U.S. of A
On that one September day,
He rose and boarded that plane,
In that place they call Ft. Wayne,

Stationed in Kuwait,
A long way from that Hoosier state,
A few brave men,
Ready to go into battle over and over again,

In vehicles loaded with steel,
The man at the steering wheel,
Did not see the bomb on the side of the road,
He only heard it explode,

Then, the Humvee rolled,
With Brian Clemens knocked out cold,
Then came that fateful day,
When the doctors had to say,

That Sgt. Brian Clemens had passed away,
He was shipped back across the bay,
To be honored by his peers,
No more crying, no more tears,

That brother, son and father laid to rest,
With many people overwhelmed and depressed,
With 13 folds, placed in his wife's hand,
The flag will always stand

poem by Venice Roberts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Befire the Battle

By the hope within us springing,
Herald of to-morrow's strife;
By that sun, whose light is bringing
Chains or freedom, death or life --
Oh! remember life can be
No charm for him, who lives not free!
Like the day-star in the wave,
Sinks a hero in his grave,
'Midst the dew-fall of a nation's tears.

Happy is he o'er whose decline
The smiles of home may soothing shine,
And light him down the steep of years:
But oh, how blest they sink to rest,
Who close their eyes on victory's breast!

O'er his watch-fire's fading embers
Now the foeman's cheek turns white,
When his heart that field remembers,
Where we tamed his tyrant might.
Never let him bind again
A chain like that we broke from then.
Hark! the horn of combat calls --
Ere the golden evening falls,
May we pledge that horn in triumph round.

Many a heart that now beats high,
In slumber cold at night shall lie,
Nor waken even at victory's sound: --
But oh how blest that hero's sleep,
O'er whom a wondering world shall weep!

poem by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Only The Brave One

Only the brave one can smile though not winning only the brave are gracious in defeat
Only the brave one though seen as successful never does show any sign of conceit
If for some reason from the Queen you do not accept a knighthood that does not prove lack of grace on your part
That only proves that you are a good person that you are one who does follow your heart
You've proved yourself in the heat of the battle and you became a hero when the war was won
It has been said that your victims were many but everyone you killed was some mother's son
Many see you as a brave ageing hero a hero once and a hero today
But I am not one who agrees with the many I look at life in a different way
On what is brave I do have my opinions but that doesn't mean my opinions are right
I've never discharged a gun at another for God or Country I never would fight
Maybe I do seem off in my opinions but that's your opinion and that suits me fine
You belong to what's known as majority thinking but are your opinions much better than mine
Only the brave one will speak for the oppressed one that's my opinion though I'm far from brave
But fear is a thing that helps me to keep living I fear the coldness of the earthy grave.

--------------------

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Dirge OF Nelson

Toll Nelson's knell! a soul more brave
Ne'er triumphed on the green-sea wave!
Sad o'er the hero's honoured grave,
Toll Nelson's knell!

The ball of Death unerring flew;
His cheek has lost its ardent hue;
He sinks, amid his gallant crew!
Toll Nelson's knell!

Yet lift, brave chief, thy dying eyes;
Hark! loud huzzas around thee rise;
Aloft the flag of conquest flies!
The day is won!

The day is won--peace to the brave!
But whilst the joyous streamers wave,
We'll think upon the victor's grave!
Peace to the brave!

poem by William Lisle Bowles
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Nobodys Hero

Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
I knew he was different, in his sexuality
I went to his parties, as a straight minority
It never seemed a threat to my masculinity
He only introduced me to a wider reality
As the years went by, we drifted apart
When I heard that he was gone
I felt a shadow cross my heart
But hes nobodys ---
Hero --- saves a drowning child
Cures a wasting disease
Hero --- lands the crippled airplane
Solves great mysteries
Hero --- not the handsome actor
Who plays a heros role
Hero --- not the glamor girl
Whod love to sell her soul
If anybodys buying
Nobodys hero
I didnt know the girl, but I knew her family
All their lives were shattered
In a nightmare of brutality
They try to carry on, try to bear the agony
Try to hold some faith
In the goodness of humanity
As the years went by, we drifted apart
When I heard that she was gone
I felt a shadow cross my heart
But shes nobodys ---
Hero --- the voice of reason
Against the howling mob
Hero --- the pride of purpose
In the unrewarding job
Hero --- not the champion player
Who plays the perfect game
Not the glamor boy
Who loves to sell his name
Everybodys buying
Nobodys hero
As the years went by, we drifted apart
When I heard that you were gone
I felt a shadow cross my heart
Hero

song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

I Believe In Nigeria

With so many battles and killings,
with slim chances of healings.
Our peace has been taking away from us,
and our glory days are far behind us.
Our nation has been torn apart,
by those whose love are from our heart.
With tears runing down our cheek,
with the killings and violence at its peak.
Every where is been flooded by innocent blood,
and our treasure been lost in the mud.
Everyday we live our lives in fear,
with so much pain that we can't bear.
People been nurtured to the highest level of hatred,
and now innocent lives are been affected.
Hatred has given birth to death,
and death taking away our precious life on earth.
With people living their lives in hell,
even when they mean to do well.
Properties are been destroyed everyday,
and thousands of lives are been laid to rest each day.
Is it a crime to be a human? ,
or is it a sin to be a nigerian? .
Is it a cause to crave for peace in our nation? ,
a nation thats moving closer to the point of destruction.
Each day our kneels are planted on the ground in prayers,
to erradicate pains that is been inflited by peace haters.
All i know is that all hope is not lost,
because in the ebullent nigerian spirit i trust.
No matter the trouble we may be going through today,
it will be a testimony we'll say some day.
For every pain that we feel in our heart now,
the peace of heaven will erase it some how.
For every sacrifice we make for the peace of our country,
will go a long way to erase every of our misery.
No matter the level of destruction in our neighbour hood,
i believe one day everything will change for good.

poem by Stanley Oguh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Coupler

They came each
to the Coupler
to seek
their Hearts Desire-
the one thing
they wanted most-
and he took their presentation
and coupled it
with what they’d need
to succeed in their Primary Wish.

She wanted True Love;
he gave her Devotion
to couple with it
because without Devotion
True Love can be short and quick;
done with.

He wanted Riches beyond compare
and he was given
Boundless Faith
because riches come and go
and only Faith
allows them to be re-cooped again.

The wish for Hope
was coupled with Love
because hoping for something you
don’t love
will not work.

She desired children
and for years had been barren;

he gave her boundless love
for children however conceived
need this.

The Architect want Immortality
and was given a space in his
children’s’ hearts.

A Knowledge Seeker
was stripped of his facts
and given Wisdom
which is Empathies Insight.

One who sought Revenge
was given a Bitter End.

Justice Seekers
were shown the Face of Mercy.

Poets, sweet poets
received soft dreams
and Verisimilitudes
to pen with.

Power seekers
received
no Power Over
only Power To Enable Others.

And Peace-Seekers
were given Family.

The Lonely were shown
the Rainbow within;

The Poor in Spirit
had their Souls Renewed
by Peace and Love

And those without a Soul
were introduced to their
Sisters and Brothers
whom they then
had to serve.

Life-Seekers
were taught how
to breathe;

The Heart-Broken
were shown
how to dream
other dreams

The Couplet of all Couplets

he said
is The Collective We
we all
depend upon.

poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Hero and The Villain

When you see a Hero,
what do you think of the Hero?
'The Hero is Amazing'
'The Hero saves lives'
'The Hero is a bad person, not even human.'
'He stinks and I don't like the hero.'

People love the hero,
they love the hero cause he saves lives,
they love him cause he protects the city,

Some people don't like the hero cause they are
the ones who do crime.

Crimes like murder, kidnapping, stealing, sell drugs,
rob banks..... but the person who hates the hero the
most..... is the Villain.

The ones who hate the Villain the most is the people,
the hero never takes a life, the hero doesn't hate the Villain, the hero wants to help the Villain.

The Villain knows he needs help, but the Villain Doesn't want help, the Villain has been through an emotional life, the villains hates everyone...

Everyone knows a Superhero story goes, the Villain ends up Dead..

Everyone must know this..

Sometimes all the Villains were once heroes..

You die a hero, or you live long enough to see
yourself become the Villain....

poem by Noel Lopez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Song Of Trafalgar

LIKE an angry sun, like a splendid star,
War gleams down the long years' track;
They strain at the leash, the dogs of war,
And who shall hold them back?
'Let loose the pack: we are English bred,
We will meet them full and fair
With the flag of England over our head,
And his hand to keep it there!'

So spake our fathers. Our flag, unfurled,
Blew brave to the north and south;
An iron answer we gave the world,
For we spoke by the cannon's mouth.
But he who taught us the word to say
Grew dumb as his Victory sang,
And England mourned on her triumph day,
And wept while her joy-bells rang.

Long hour by hour, and long day by day,
The swift years crept apace,
The patient, the coral-insect way,
To cover the dear dead face.
O foolish rabble of envious years,
Who wist not the dead must rise,
His name is music still in our ears,
His face a light to our eyes!

Bring hither your laurels, the fading sign
Of a deathless love and pride;
These cling more close than the laurels twine,
They are strong as the world is wide:
At the feet of Virtue in Valour clad
Shall glory and love be laid,
While Glory sings to an English lad,
Or Love to an English maid.

Wherever the gleams of an English fire
On an English roof-tree shine,
Wherever the fire of a youth's desire
Is laid upon Honour's shrine,
Wherever brave deeds are treasured and told,
In the tale of the deeds of yore
Like jewels of price in a chain of gold
Are the name and the fame he bore.

Wherever the track of our English ships
Lies white on the ocean foam,
His name is sweet to our English lips
As the names of the flowers at home;
Wherever the heart of an English boy
Grows big with a deed of worth,
Such names as his name have begot the same,
Such hearts will bring it to birth.

They say that his England, grown tired and old,
Lies drunk by her heavy hoard;
They say her hands have the grasp of the gold
But not the grip of the sword,
That her robe of glory is rent and shred,
And that winds of shame blow through:
Speak for your England, O mighty Dead,
In the deeds you would have her do!

Small skill have we to fight with the pen
Who fought with the sword of old,
For the sword that is wielded of Englishmen
Is as much as one hand can hold.
Yet the pen and the tongue are safe to use,
And the coward and the wise choose these;
But fools and brave were our English crews
When Nelson swept the seas.

'Tis the way of a statesman to fear and fret,
To ponder and pause and plan,
But the way of Nelson was better yet,
For that was the way of a man;
They would teach us smoothness, who once were rough,
They have bidden us palter and pray,
But the way of Nelson was good enough,
For that was the fighting way.

If Nelson's England must stoop to bear
What never honour should brook,
In vain does the tomb of her hero wear
The laurel his brow forsook;
In vain was the speech from the lips of her guns,
If now must her lips refrain;
In vain has she made us, her living sons,
Her dead have made her in vain.

So here with your bays be the dear head crowned,
Lay flowers where the dear dust lies,
And wreathe his column with laurel round
To point his fame to the skies;
But the greenest laurel that ever grew
Is the laurel that's yet to win;
Crowned with his laurels he waits for You
To bring Your laurels in!

poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Martyrs

They preferred death to honor
Never said yes for life to dishonor
To die for the nation and holy cause
Constant move with no let or pause

It may be need of an hour
Better lay down life than to lie on floor
Death may not wait and come fast
You will not have time to breathe your last

Chances for bright life may be unlikely and recede
You may fight the war but not concede
Who knows when death may make fast visit?
You will only find the hell is let loose and find no exit

Country may not feel or know it so soon
Bodies may be flown from the border in bright noon
Countrymen may weep and lay a wreath
May mourn the departed and offer roses on death

You may be down literally but in history will be known as hero
Over night change of status from simple zero
You were nobody but now never be forgotten
You may shine on lamp post from small lantern

Veterans were never a war mongers
They were true sons of soil and peace messengers
They made life smooth and created an easy passage
So the Countrymen could lead life with peaceful message

Why one should need to risk the life?
When he has happy life and wife
Soldiers face this dilemma in their entire span
He may not bother where does he belong to or any clan

He doesn’t need any action plan
He may swim across the water as white swan
We may not remember his small contribution
Keep trophies ready for bravery and distribution

Remember he is true and brave son
We should portray him well with reason
Country may offer so much and express concern
How can we forget our comrades and veterans?

Whole nation may weep at your departure?
He did it for the country to finally secure
How come country may forget his sacrifice?
Will there be no tears on their demise?

We have to move on but with slow pace
Let it not turn ugly and push us to mad race?
It may defeat the purpose for which they laid their lives
How many may be shedding tears as their wives?

The may be remembered in history as brave sons
There are circumstances and very strong reasons
Who can deny their contribution for the nation?
There is complete loyalty and stands without any question

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

05 - A Hero

A hero thinks of others before they think of themselves
A hero will die to protect
A hero can be of any age, any colour
A hero can be man, woman or child
A hero is courageous, loving and brave
A hero will never complain
A hero can be made in one act of compassion
Or years of tender loving care
Some hero's are remembered, whilst many are left forgotten
Hero's are angels in disguise, saving precious innocent lives

poem by Nicola Burkett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A Hero?

Her hero is pretty and thin
Her hero is a hero to many
A hero of fame and a hero of fortune
A role model, a hero of glamour
Her hero is a hero to many

His hero is fit and fast
His hero is a hero to many
A hero of sport, a hero of games
A role model, a hero of victory
His hero is a hero to many

Her hero is clever yet plane
Her hero is a hero to few
A hero of science, a hero of logic
A role model, a hero of knowledge
Her hero is a hero to few

His hero is a hero of art but he is poor
His hero is a hero to few
A hero of word a hero of writings
A role model, a hero of language
His hero is a hero to few

But that’s the thing with your heros....
Hero worship is only skin deep.

poem by Timothy Venard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Death-Day Of Korner

A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
The youth went down to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride.

He went, with his noble heart unworn,
And pure, and high;
An eagle stooping from clouds of morn,
Only to die!

He went with the lyre, whose lofty tone
Beneath his hand
Had thrill'd to the name of his God alone,
And his Father-land.

And with all his glorious feelings yet
In their first glow,
Like a southern stream that no frost hath met
To chain its flow.

A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
For him that went to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride.

He hath left a voice in his trumpet-lays
To turn the flight,
And a guiding spirit for after days,
Like a watch-fire's light.

And a grief in his father's soul to rest,
Midst all high thought;
And a memory unto his mother's breast,
With healing fraught.

And a name and fame above the blight
Of earthly breath,
Beautiful beautiful and bright,
In life and death!

A song for the death-day of the brave
A song of pride!
For him that went to a hero's grave,
With the sword, his bride!

poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Thunder Sword

Man did not fear man
But the hero fear death of hero
By the dangerous thunder sword
Thro his shine sword and bright eyes
That bends all head of tree with arm

Oh, thou spirit of thunder,
No sword no spear in his palm
But his hand sharp more than sword
And it killed more than fire

No man can face and defeat
Thro his molest fire of his mouth
The lightning echo on sky bewilder heart
And thunderbolts annoyed with mirror of man
Which no man can harm on earth.
.

poem by Olugbenga Ayoola.O
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

World cup fever

World cup cricket fever is over
Complete population was provided enough cover
Still the fear was not over and threatened the lives
Whole country prayed for safety and tried to relive

We never surrendered to threats and stood like rock
The time was slowly passing in the clock
It did no turn round and strike
It is over with jubilation much to everybody’s like

The last ball of match has gone to boundary
Pin dropp silence had prevailed in whole country
It is matter of joy and pride
We can not over play or hide

Limitless joy and friendship in abundance
This is how India rates in her presence
World bowed to the tremendous spirit
The dark cloud were hovering in sky with lots of heat

The event has passed off incidence free
No more threat to life and hurry to flee
Whole nation is celebrating it as triumph
It was well deserved and not was bluff

We have shown world a class and tolerance
We can manage our selves without any dependence
Let free world see it as victory for sports
Let us work toward peace and spoil the chance to abort

The country is rejoicing today
It has shown full courage and way
The world all over has witnessed peaceful demonstration
This is how it is called cordial maintenance of relation

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Working Class Hero

(alan jackson/don sampson)
A callused right hand
Holds a shiny gold watch
For thirty years spent on the clock
But you wont see no tears
>from this workin class hero
Hes always been hard as a rock
But he knows hes too old
To really start over
Besides he just wouldnt know how
I guess hes just glad
That hes not alone
But hes got to wonder what now
cause theres no hall of fame for that working class hero
No statute carved out of stone
And his greatest reward is the love of a woman
And his children
So after hes gone
That old working class hero lives on
That three-bedroom house
He built in the 50s
Seems so much bigger today
With just him and mama
And not many bills
cause all of the kids moved away
What hes done with his life
Might not be remembered
But hes got every right to be proud
cause the blood sweatin years
Of this workin class hero
Is really what livins about
cause theres no hall of fame for that working class hero
No statute carved out of stone
And his greatest reward is the love of a woman
And his children
So after hes gone
That old workin class hero lives on
Yes, that workin class hero lives on
That workin class hero lives on

song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!