Death Of Gen. Jackson - An Eulogy
Hark! from the mighty Hero's tomb,
I hear a voice proclaim!
A sound which fills the world with gloom,
But magnifies his name.
His flight from time let braves deplore,
And wail from state to state,
And sound abroad from shore to shore,
The death of one so great!
He scorn'd to live a captured slave,
And fought his passage through;
He dies, the prince of all the brave,
And bids the world adieu!
Sing to the mem'ry of his power,
Ye vagrant mountaineers,
Ye rustic peasants drop a shower
Of love for him in tears.
He wields the glittering sword no more,
With that transpiercing eye;
Ceases to roam the mountain o'er,
And gets him down to die!
Still let the nation spread his fame,
While marching from his tomb;
Aloud let all the world proclaim,
Jackson, forever bloom.
No longer to the world confin'd,
He goes down like a star;
He sets, and leaves his friends behind
To rein the steed of war.
Hark! from the mighty Hero's tomb,
I hear a voice proclaim!
A sound which fills the world with gloom,
But magnifies his name!
poem by George Moses Horton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Dont Be A Hero
when will this world need a hero to save?
save us form our tears and our graves
to save us when were down...
there ant that many hero's around
some came and some gone
fought for the right to be wrong
some we had see in our dreams
some hid, stayed a mystery
some loved to have a crowed
some fought just to stay about
but when all the hero's seem to fail
who will save us form this hell?
when will this world need a hero thats real?
that knows our pain and knows how we feel
when the world needs a hero its to late
the ones that seems to be brave end up to be fake....
most hero's today arent so brave
but theres a hero that i proclaim! ! !
-Faden Back-
poem by Coby Salazar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 145 part 1
v.1-7,11-13
C. M.
The greatness of God.
Long as I live I'll bless thy name,
My King, my God of love;
My work and joy shall be the same
In the bright world above.
Great is the Lord, his power unknown,
And let his praise be great;
I'll sing the honors of thy throne,
Thy works of grace repeat.
Thy grace shall dwell upon my tongue;
And while my lips rejoice,
The men that hear my sacred song
Shall join their cheerful voice.
Fathers to sons shall teach thy name,
And children learn thy ways;
Ages to come thy truth proclaim,
And nations sound thy praise.
Thy glorious deeds of ancient date
Shall through the world be known;
Thine arm of power, thy heav'nly state,
With public splendor shown.
The world is managed by thy hands,
Thy saints are ruled by love;
And thine eternal kingdom stands,
Though rocks and hills remove.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silence in my world..
I lay back and close my eyes
As memories of laughter
And countless conversations, fill my head
I hear the wind moving
And the sound of my breathing
I hear the leaves rustling
And the sound of footsteps fading
The laughter is long gone
The only voice I hear is mine
As Silence invades my world
Mercilessly, thoughtlessly
Our song comes to my mind
And I struggle to sing it
But the words don't come to me
As Silence fills my world with emptiness
Deafening it, endlessly.
poem by Gauri Gupta
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silence
I got a feeling
Everything's gonna be alright
And I still find my way
And I heard
It's always darkest before the storm
So come on let it rain
Everything was different when I was seventeen
The world was so much brighter
Now I finally found the truth
Of what they hid for me
That world was so much kinder
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
I believe
That we were meant to learn from our mistakes
And stumble along the way
Now I know
That people are gonna grap what they can take
Then just turn away
Everybody's searching
But no one really knows the truth
The world is upside down
What it's all about right now
Will soon turn to gray
Their promises have faded
Silence
Silence
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
All my little merry friends
Have turned their backs on me
Excuse me if I'm jaded
I'm so tired of people telling me
How it should be
Their promises have faded
Silence
Silence
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
Silence
song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Wired For Sound
Words & music: michael w. smith and wayne kirkpatrick
Chorus:
Word of mouth is the counselor
There is no need for proof
In a world thats wired for sound
The tongue becomes the mighty sword
That battles the truth
In a world thats wired for sound
Comin on like a tidal wave
That washes thru the brain--a state of mind
No dispute when the noise is made
And so it lets the blind lead the blind
Lured by charisma to be swayed to believe
Chorus
Easier believing what is hard to get rid of than to try
Never searching--just accepting
Feeds the mind enough to get you by
Scratching the surface yet to dig deeper down
Chorus:
Word of mouth is the counselor
There is no need for proof
In a world thats wired for sound
The tongue becomes the mighty sword
That battles the truth
In a world thats wired for sound
Wisdom from the sacred page
Is turned and ignored
In a world thats wired for sound
Chorus
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Tomb
The four walls around me,
The bed in which I lay.
A lock on my door,
Keeps everyone away.
The outside world has nothing,
Not a single thing for me.
For I lost the angel of my life,
An angel as beautiful as she.
I lay within these four walls,
Counting the time go by.
The day quickly comes to an end,
And then I close my eyes.
It is then I dream of her,
As I lie here in my room.
In my dream I leave from here,
This place I call my tomb.
No more walls around me,
No more bed in which I lay.
I have broken from the locks,
That kept me here to decay.
In my dream I am with her,
No longer am I sad.
For in my dream she never leaves,
Destroying everything we had.
In my dream we are happy,
Our love will only grow.
Reaching to the Heavenly skies,
Leaving the world below.
In my dream I'm full of life,
No longer live in gloom.
My angel has pulled me from the trap,
Of this place I call my tomb.
I want to stay in this dream,
For when I am asleep.
No longer do I miss her,
No longer do I weep.
I want to stay in this dream,
I never want to wake.
For when I'm here with my angel,
No longer do I ache.
I want to stay in this dream,
Don't ever pull me out.
I want to stay here forever,
For here there is no doubt.
Eventually my eyes will open,
I see the walls of my room.
Once again I'm locked up,
As I lie here in my tomb.
poem by Adam McKim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mockery
I met my love a-weeping,
Weeping in the night-tide pale;
Her head among the lily bloom,
Weeping by an empty tomb—
An unshut tomb.
I gently stroked her golden hair
That shone so
With the moon-glow
In the sad-sweet air.
Like playful breezes from the south
Came soft smile-dimples to her mouth;
And when again she seemed to weep
I kissed her wild-wide eyes to sleep;
While there beyond the lily bloom
I saw the watching, waiting tomb.
I left my love a-sleeping,
Sleeping in the cypress vale;
Smiling sadly in the gloom;
Sleeping in the fastened tomb—
The tight-shut tomb.
How round the tomb the moving mists
Will twirl so
When the wind blows,
That the ivy twists
And shudders round the cold grey stone:
A serpent on a crumbling throne.
While I, upon a nearby mound
Hear salt tears soaking in the ground;
But there, when’er the lilies bloom,
I hear low laughter in the tomb.
poem by Leon Gellert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Horseman of Conquest
He rides the fields triumphant, in armor plated gold
His horse a great white stallion, it's rider ever bold
He is the Horseman Conquest, for power does he lust
He cares not for honor, goodness, or even being just
He cares rides to war for power, to make the world his own
He dreams only of riches, a jewel encrusted throne
His sword is swift and mighty, though corrupt his soul may be
He commands a mighty army, who obey every decree
He dreams only for power, rides to war for gold
He rules from an ivory tower, where he keeps fortunes untold
The mighty King of Conquest, the Horsemen filled with greed
In golden plated armor, he rides his mighty steed
He fights for gold and plunder, he wields a mighty sword
He rides to war for power, backed by his mighty hoard
Every king of every nation, must bow before his throne
He will never stop, until the world is all his own
poem by Tim Vallie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Christmas Medley
What child is this / do you hear what I hear /
Joy to the world
What child is this who laid to rest
On marys lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe the son of mary
(do you) hear what I hear (6x)
Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
Ringing through the sky shepherd boy
Do you hear what I hear?
A song a song high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(do you) hear what I hear?
Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king
So you know what I know?
In your palace warm mighty king
Do you know what I know?
The child the child sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world...
Joy to the world the lord is come
Let earth receive her king
Let every heart prepare him room
And heavn and nature sing
And heavn and nature sing
And heavn and heavn and nature sing
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(do you) hear what I hear?
Joy to the world
(somebody gotta tell ya)
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe the son of mary...
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Poets Of The Tomb
The world has had enough of bards who wish that they were dead,
'Tis time the people passed a law to knock 'em on the head,
For 'twould be lovely if their friends could grant the rest they crave --
Those bards of `tears' and `vanished hopes', those poets of the grave.
They say that life's an awful thing, and full of care and gloom,
They talk of peace and restfulness connected with the tomb.
They say that man is made of dirt, and die, of course, he must;
But, all the same, a man is made of pretty solid dust.
There is a thing that they forget, so let it here be writ,
That some are made of common mud, and some are made of GRIT;
Some try to help the world along while others fret and fume
And wish that they were slumbering in the silence of the tomb.
'Twixt mother's arms and coffin-gear a man has work to do!
And if he does his very best he mostly worries through,
And while there is a wrong to right, and while the world goes round,
An honest man alive is worth a million underground.
And yet, as long as sheoaks sigh and wattle-blossoms bloom,
The world shall hear the drivel of the poets of the tomb.
And though the graveyard poets long to vanish from the scene,
I notice that they mostly wish their resting-place kept green.
Now, were I rotting underground, I do not think I'd care
If wombats rooted on the mound or if the cows camped there;
And should I have some feelings left when I have gone before,
I think a ton of solid stone would hurt my feelings more.
Such wormy songs of mouldy joys can give me no delight;
I'll take my chances with the world, I'd rather live and fight.
Though Fortune laughs along my track, or wears her blackest frown,
I'll try to do the world some good before I tumble down.
Let's fight for things that ought to be, and try to make 'em boom;
We cannot help mankind when we are ashes in the tomb.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stanzas Subjoined To The Yearly Bill Of Mortality Of The Parish Of All-Saints, Northampton. Anno Domini 1790
He who sits from day to day
Where the prisoned lark is hung,
Heedless of his loudest lay,
Hardly knows that he has sung.
Where the watchman in his round
Nightly lifts his voice on high,
None accustomed to the sound,
Wakes the sooner for his cry.
So your verse man I, and clerk,
Yearly in my song proclaim
Death at hand -- yourselves his mark--
And the foe's unerring aim.
Duly at my time I come,
Publishing to all aloud,--
Soon the grave must be your home,
And your only suit a shroud.
But the monitory strain,
Oft repeated in your ears,
Seems to sound too much in vain,
Wins no notice, wakes no fears.
Can a truth, by all confessed
Of such magnitude and weight,
Grow, by being oft impressed,
Trivial as a parrot's prate?
Pleasure's call attention wins,
Hear it often as we may;
New as ever seem our sins,
Though committed every day.
Death and judgement, heaven and hell--
These alone, so often heard,
No more move us than the bell
When some stranger is interred.
Oh then, ere the turf or tomb
Cover us from every eye,
Spirit of instruction! come,
Make us learn that we must die.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If Every Day Was Like Christmas
(words & music by red west)
I hear the bells
Saying christmas is near
They ring out to tell the world
That this is the season of cheer
I hear a choir
Singing sweetly somewhere
And a glow fills my heart
Im at peace with the world
As the sound of their singing fills the air
Oh why cant every day be like christmas
Why cant that feeling go on endlessly
For if everyday could be just like christmas
What a wonderful world this would be
I hear a child
Telling santa what to bring
And the smile upon his tiny face
Is worth more to me than anything
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
To Hear Your Voice
To hear you voice, brings warmth
the soft tone and the sexy accent
the elegant sound of words together
make the heart pitter patter
your whisper brings goosebumps of love
from a father to hear you talk reminds me
of how your voice cares, like your beauty
to call and hear your voice brings joy of love
picturing you near and by my side
how comfort you voice makes me
to hear you sing is a angel from heaven
the laughter is joy of humor we make
the tears brings crackles to your sound
breaks my heart to it so.
saying I Love You returns your smiles
whisper to me how you feel
I need to hear the voice of love and joy
sweet voice of yours make the world turn
poem by Michael Peterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Note To The United States Of America!
we cannot be a nation proclaiming human rights,
without closing Guantanamo!
we cannot proclaim justice,
as long as money controls out courts.
we cannot proclaim freedom,
while invading other countries.
we cannot proclaim democracy,
as long as corporations have more
rights than individuals.
we cannot proclaim dignity,
while letting our children starve.
we cannot proclaim progress,
till all stand side by side with opportunity.
we cannot proclaim respect,
till all are equally respected.
we cannot proclaim spirituality,
until we live the words we speak.
we cannot proclaim peace,
until we come to peace with ourselves!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When You Say Diamond
when you say diamond
i do not imagine the luxuries of the glittery
world where you live
it is all yours, through and through, and somehow
i have never been there
and i do not wish to dream to live there
for once
for that cannot be in fact, i live in the world
of the tatters and the pebbles so silent and deep
in their cursed slumbers,
when you say diamond i imagine faces
those that i see everyday in you
those that deceive and those that pretend not to hurt
but those that kill us all slowly
to the happy death that you wish to inflict upon us
i never like it, and i never like you
but here we are, under one roof of the world
they shall proclaim the greatness of your value
and i shall keep on keeping the lies about your truths.
for why should i be a hero? mortal am i,
and
i am not yet ready to die.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Answer
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
To all the sensual world proclaim,
One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sound, Sound the Clarion
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!
To all the sensual world proclaim,
One crowded hour of glorious life
Is worth an age without a name.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The sound of music.......
The sound of music gives us so much emotions
and that plays a melody deep in our heart greatly
All the sound on the earth are like music
and the music brings love and enjoyment to our life
Music expresses universal language of the world
and brings people together where ever they live
The music is the best gift of God to all of us
where its fills our soul with peace and mind with creativity
Every music has its own rhythm
and it's creates a great sound of music
Music in the mountain brings peace in our heart
and music in the ocean fills our soul with love
When I hear the sound of music
then I begin to write a song as a soul of music
If you don't love the sound of music
then your soul will be unsung
Because music can put life in to a dead man
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
Copyright @2006 Ravi Sathasivam
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
On The Discoveries Of Captain Lewis (January 14, 1807)
Let the Nile cloak his head in the clouds, and defy
The researches of science and time;
Let the Niger escape the keen traveller's eye,
By plunging or changing his clime.
Columbus! not so shall thy boundless domain
Defraud thy brave sons of their right;
Streams, midlands, and shorelands elude us in vain.
We shall drag their dark regions to light.
Look down, sainted sage, from thy synod of Gods;
See, inspired by thy venturous soul,
Mackenzie roll northward his earth-draining floods,
And surge the broad waves to the pole.
With the same soaring genius thy Lewis ascends,
And, seizing the car of the sun,
O'er the sky-propping hills and high waters he bends,
And gives the proud earth a new zone.
Potowmak, Ohio, Missouri had felt
Half her globe in their cincture comprest;
His long curving course has completed the belt,
And tamed the last tide of the west.
Then hear the loud voice of the nation proclaim,
And all ages resound the decree:
Let our occident stream bear the young hero's name,
Who taught him his path to the sea.
These four brother floods, like a garland of flowers,
Shall entwine all our states in a band
Conform and confederate their wide-spreading powers,
And their wealth and their wisdom expand.
From Darien to Davis one garden shall bloom,
Where war's weary banners are furl'd,
And the far scenting breezes that waft its perfume,
Shall settle the storms of the world.
Then hear the loud voice of the nation proclaim
And all ages resound the decree:
Let our occident stream bear the young hero's name,
Who taught him his path to the sea.
poem by Joel Barlow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife,
Throughout the sensual world proclaim,
One crowded hour of glorious life,
Is worth an age without name.
quote by Thomas Osbert Mordaunt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!