There is a small glen in the clouds
There is a small glen in the clouds
where cumulus receive nice forms,
enthralled souls fly, on heavens grounds.
Up there the Sun his golden crowns,
faithful rises to brighten morns,
there is a small glen in the clouds.
Strong currents sing solitude's sounds,
on glen souls bare of painful thorns,
enthralled souls fly, on heavens grounds.
The winds affray in gray surrounds;
air streams repeat some lyric calls,
there is a small glen in the clouds.
Beholden soul on glen, astounds,
a dream is remnant while it mourns,
enthralled souls fly, on heavens grounds.
Souls rise on glen to feast in bounds,
air callithumps atop the knolls,
there is a small glen in the clouds;
enthralled souls fly, on heavens grounds.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Meet Me in the Green Glen
Love, meet me in the green glen,
Beside the tall elm-tree,
Where the sweetbriar smells so sweet agen;
There come with me.
Meet me in the green glen.
Meet me at the sunset
Down in the green glen,
Where we've often met
By hawthorn-tree and foxes' den,
Meet me in the green glen.
Meet me in the green glen,
By sweetbriar bushes there;
Meet me by your own sen,
Where the wild thyme blossoms fair.
Meet me in the green glen.
Meet me by the sweetbriar,
By the mole-hill swelling there;
When the west glows like a fire
God's crimson bed is there.
Meet me in the green glen.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Glen Song
There's a green glen in Eirinn,
A green glen in Eirinn!
Do you remember yet, a gradh, the sunshine of that day,
How the the river ran before us, and the fleckless blue hung o'er us,
And against the purple heather gleamed the yellow of the hay?
There's a green glen in Eirinn,
A green glen in Eirinn!
Where on a dew-wet swinging spray brown throstles trilled above,
And the blackbird carolled after in a silver rain of laughter,
And the little linnet piped its song that has no theme but Love.
There's a green glen in Eirinn,
A green glen in Eirinn!
'Twas sweet with you beside me in a world of harvest gold:
The sallaghs made a shadow in a corner of the meadow,
And your eyes were wells of kindness, and my hand lay in your hold.
There's a green glen in Eirinn,
A green glen in Eirinn!
The voice of Spring comes on the winds like cuckoo calling clear
She bids us fare together, nor heed the fitful weather–
And seek in yon green glen the joy that waits our hearts, my Dear.
poem by Anna Johnston MacManus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tam Glen
1 My heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie,
2 Some counsel unto me come len';
3 To anger them a' is a pity,
4 But what will I do wi' Tam Glen?
5 I'm thinking, wi' sic a braw fellow,
6 In poortith I might mak a fen':
7 What care I in riches to wallow,
8 If I mauna marry Tam Glen?
9 There's Lowrie, the laird o' Dumeller,
10 "Guid-day to you,"--brute! he comes ben:
11 He brags and he blaws o' his siller,
12 But when will he dance like Tam Glen?
13 My minnie does constantly deave me,
14 And bids me beware o' young men;
15 They flatter, she says, to deceive me;
16 But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen?
17 My daddie says, gin I'll forsake him,
18 He'll gie me guid hunder marks ten:
19 But, if it's ordain'd I maun take him,
20 O wha will I get but Tam Glen?
21 Yestreen at the valentines' dealing,
22 My heart to my mou gied a sten:
23 For thrice I drew ane without failing,
24 And thrice it was written, "Tam Glen"!
25 The last Halloween I was waukin
26 My droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken:
27 His likeness cam up the house staukin,
28 And the very gray breeks o' Tam Glen!
29 Come counsel, dear Tittie, don't tarry;
30 I'll gie ye my bonie black hen,
31 Gif ye will advise me to marry
32 The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Highland Lassie, O
Nae gentle dames, tho' e'er sae fair,
Shall ever be my muse's care;
Their titles a' are empty show;
Gie me my Highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen sae bushy, O,
Aboon the plain sae rushy, O,
I sit me down wi' right good will,
To sing my Highland Lassie, O.
Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine,
Yon palace and yon gardens fine!
The world then the love should know
I bear my Highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen...
But fickle fortune frowns on me,
And I maun cross the raging sea;
But while my crimson currents flow
I'll love my highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen...
Altho' thro' foreign climes I range,
I know her heart will never change,
For her bosom burns with honor's glow,
My faithful highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen...
For her I'll dare the billows' roar,
For her I'll trace a distant shore,
That Indian wealth may lustre throw
Around my Highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen...
She has my heart, she has my hand,
By sacred troth and honor's band!
Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low,
I'm thine, my highland Lassie, O.
Farewell the glen sae bushy, O!
Farewell the plain sae rushy, O!
To other lands I now must go,
To sing my Highland Lassie, O!
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Still You
There's a stream through a glen
Where wild apples grow
It runs down to old cliffs
Where foxes and deer
Watch the wild waters foam
White upon winter shores
And I know it's still you
In the waves on the shore
In the stream through the glen
Still you in the moonlight
Where apple blossom glows
And sweet breezes still blow
On the braes by that stream
In cool morning dew
There's a world fresh and free
and still time to dream
of the old and the new
to remember what's true
And I know it's still you
In the waves on the shore
In the stream through the glen
Still you in the moonlight
Where apple blossom glows
And sweet breezes still blow
Now the stream calls me home
And in its wild song
There's a lost harmony
And here in this glen
By the moon's rise and fall
I know where I belong
And it's with you, still with you
By the waves on the shore
By the stream through the glen
With you in the moonlight
Where apple blossom glows
And sweet breezes still blow
where I'm with you, still with you
When The Gloom Is On The Glen
When the moonlight's on the mountain
And the gloom is on the glen,
At the cross beside the fountain
There is one will meet thee then.
At the cross beside the fountain;
Yes, the cross beside the fountain,
There is one will meet thee then!
I have braved, since first we met, love,
Many a danger in my course;
But I never can forget, love,
That dear fountain, that old cross,
Where, her mantle shrouded o'er her—
For the winds were chilly then—
First I met my Leonora,
When the gloom was on the glen.
Many a clime I've ranged since then, love,
Many a land I've wandered o'er;
But a valley like that glen, love,
Half so dear I never sor!
Ne'er saw maiden fairer, coyer,
Than wert thou, my true love, when
In the gloaming first I saw yer,
In the gloaming of the glen!
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
1692
(copyright nazareth, tiflis tunes,inc.-ascap)
Mist upon the hill can remember murder,
Mist upon the hill that once flowed with blood,
Helped to cover up an approaching army,
Hid the killing lust in the eyes of men.
Sitting by the fire was a sentry sleeping,
Rolled up in their beds were children that play,
Unsuspecting what was to fall upon them,
None of them would see the dawn next day.
Bloody were the blades that fell on children,
Hate the blinding light tried to kill a name,
The mountains only know all the souls that died there,
Glen coe from that day can recall the shame.
The quiet of the night never gave them warning,
The silence of the hills wouldn't let them know,
They'd never rise again on a mist filled morning,
Never see the sunrise above glen coe.
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Save Our Souls
Black angels laughing in the city streets
Street toys scream in pain and clench their teeth
The moonlight spotlights all the city crime
Got no religion,
Laugh while they fight
Save our souls for the heavens
For a life so good it sure feels bad
Save our souls for the heavens
Save our souls for the promised land
Sweet tarts play the game and shoot to thrill
Runnin free through the trash, dressed to kill
The midnight show-stoppers, its a funny money game
A hundred thousand bleeding hearts, put us in our graves
Save our souls for the heavens
For a life so good it sure feels bad
Save our souls for the heavens
Save our souls for the promised land
Its been the hard road, edge of an overdose
No matter how high youre still too low
Ive been the dancer, the wicked romancer
Its a never-ending nightmare, edge of disaster
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dora
It was, I well remember, the merry springtime when
Young Dora in the eventide came singing up the glen,
And the song came up the glen, till one oft-repeated part
In a subtle stream of melody ran glowing through my heart.
A fond desire, long cherished, till then I might control,
Till then—but oh! That witching strain swift drew it from my soul;
Swift drew it from my soul, and she did not say me nay,
And the world of love was all the world to us that happy day.
I’m happy now in thinking how happy I was then,
When towards the glowing west my love went homeward down the glen;
Went homeward down the glen, while my comfort surer grew,
Till methought the old-faced hills at looked as they were happy too.
All happy, for that Dora and I so happy were!
All happy, for that human love had breathed its spirit there!
Had breathed its spirit there, and had made them conscious grow
Of the part they bore in that sweet time, that happy long ago.
poem by Charles Harpur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Last Living Souls
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Take a gun
Or how you say
That's no way you behave
Just a law, a new begin
Sing a song that doesn't sin
And it grows
Hey, you know
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last to get away to some another day?
Do we know
Well, we know
Doesn't seem to be complete
Are we, are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Are we the last living souls?
Get up, get up, get up, get up...
What you say?
Cause all I was on
I got it down wrong
I see myself to get
And the Lord, seeing all now
Can you take us in
The part that comin' on
The coldest man doesn't see it's all
We go to the car
I see you walk to the far
And when you get there do you see
You fit the last you need on me
Cause we're the last living souls
We're the last living souls
Yeah, we're the last living souls
We're the last living souls
song performed by by Gorillaz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Enchanted Glen
The king sat on his lavish throne
and ruled his people all alone,
no queen at his side only an empty chair there.
His would be queen a princess fair
had run off with a tinker from across the square.
The crowd stood a gasp as the tinker
on his white charger rode passed
the princess fair clutched in his arms
smiling face filled with her charms.
They rode into the enchanted glen
and were never seen again.
Sometimes on cold and lonely nights
you can hear the king’s men galloping after them.
They too rode into the enchanted glen
and were never seen again.
All that is heard is their ghostly horses in flight
on cold and lonely nights.
No one rides into the glen no more
to discover the secrets it stores,
those who have tried
like the tinker, princess fair
and the king’s men
where never heard of again.
The enchanted glen remains quiet
with its secrets it will not tell
except the echo of ghostly hoof beats
on cold and lonely nights.
6 September 2009
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Hawk
The hawk that flies’ above
And circles in the sky
Swoops and glides its self
Majestic in heavens wake
It sores above the clouds
And looks upon the earth
And has seen a many paths
That’s often lost in mother earth
It flies’ among the clouds
And stars and moons of the land
Searching and guiding
The souls that fly in its wake
It screech’s in the night
At the darkness that try to take
The souls that are new
At reaching for the skies
Talons out stretched
It attacks the darkness
That tries to envelop the soul
And rips the enemies’ within
Leaving you fragile and alone
Then it takes its flights
Once more above in flight
And watch’s and waits
For the darkness to hunt
In its flight
poem by Kaila George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Urara
Euroka, go over the tops of the hill,
For the ~Death-clouds~ have passed us to-day,
And we'll cry in the dark for the foot-falls still,
And the tracks which are fading away!
Let them yell to their lubras, the Bulginbah dogs,
And say how our brothers were slain,
We shall wipe out our grief in the blood of their chief,
And twenty more dead on the plain -
On the blood-spattered spurs of the plain!
But the low winds sigh,
And the dead leaves fly,
Where our warriors lie,
In the dingoes' den - in the white-cedar glen
On the banks of the gloomy Urara!
Urara! Urara!
On the banks of the gloomy Urara!
The Wallaroos grope through the tufts of the grass,
And crawl to their coverts for fear;
But we'll sit in the ashes and let them pass
Where the boomerangs sleep with the spear!
Oh! our hearts will be lonely and low to-night
When we think of the hunts of yore;
And the foes that we sought, and the fights which we fought,
With those who will battle no more -
Who will go to the battle no more!
For the dull winds sigh,
And the dead leaves fly,
Where our warriors lie,
In the dingoes' den - in the white-cedar glen
On the banks of the gloomy Urara!
Urara! Urara!
On the banks of the gloomy Urara!
Oh! the gorges and gullies are black with crows,
And they feast on the flesh of the brave;
But the forest is loud with the howls of our foes
For those whom they never can save!
Let us crouch with our faces down to our knees,
And hide in the dark of our hair;
For we will not return where the camp-fires burn,
And see what is smouldering there -
What is smouldering, mouldering there!
Where the sad winds sigh -
The dead leaves fly,
And our warriors lie;
In the dingoes' den - in the white-cedar glen
On the banks of the gloomy Urara!
Urara! Urara!
On the banks of the gloomy Urara!
poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Haven Of Love
Romance
came at morning
love story without end
we stole a kiss by the river
the haven of love way down in the glen
soprano voices came hither
ecstasy lingered then
with the bliss of
romance.
Only a shy young maiden was I
how could my heart ever know
that love was steadily seeping
into the innocence of my soul?
Romance
came with glory
love's fable now I pen
we fell in love one September
at a haven of love way down in the glen
your kind caress I remember
I was eager to dance
on wings of true
Romance.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Haven of Romance
Romance
came at morning
love story without end
we stole a kiss by the river
the haven of love way down in the glen
soprano voices came hither
ecstasy lingered then
with the bliss of
romance.
Only a shy young maiden was I
how could my heart ever know
that love was steadily seeping
into the innocence of my soul?
Romance
came with glory
love's fable now I pen
we fell in love one September
at a haven of love way down in the glen
your kind caress I remember
I was eager to dance
on wings of true
Romance.
poem by Drania Haplern
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Help Me Cause Im Falling
1) what would you say if I called your name
Sailing in space spinning in clouds far above the ground
Searching the sky its a mystery
Passing through colors, colors and light
And the world it welcomes me in with arms and eyes
Chorus -
Help me cause Im falling
And Im feeling like Im never gonna hit the ground
2) dream lit sky flows into the night
Clouds rush through, through my mind and the world is spinning in time
What would you say if we felt the sky
Flow through our hair and the clouds float by
Dreamers sifting their souls through heavens eyes
Chorus
song performed by by Zuba
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Brook Rhine
SMALL current of the wilds afar from men,
Changing and sudden as a baby's mood;
Now a green babbling rivulet in the wood,
Now loitering broad and shallow through the glen,
Or threading 'mid the naked shoals, and then
Brattling against the stones, half mist, half flood,
Between the mountains where the storm-clouds brood;
And each change but to wake or sleep again;
Pass on, young stream, the world has need of thee;
Far hence a mighty river on its breast
Bears the deep-laden vessels to the sea;
Far hence wide waters feed the vines and corn.
Pass on, small stream, to so great purpose born,
On to the distant toil, the distant rest.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Martha
"Once...Once upon a time..."
Over and over again,
Martha would tell us her stories,
In the hazel glen.
Hers were those clear gray eyes
You watch, and the story seems
Told by their beautifulness
Tranquil as dreams.
She'd sit with her two slim hands
Clasped round her bended knees;
While we on our elbows lolled,
And stared at ease.
Her voice and her narrow chin,
Her grave small lovely head,
Seemed half the meaning
Of the words she said.
"Once...Once upon a time..."
Like a dream you dream in the night,
Fairies and gnomes stole out
In the leaf-green light.
And her beauty far away
Would fade, as her voice ran on,
Till hazel and summer sun
And all were gone:--
All fordone and forgot;
And like clouds in the height of the sky,
Our hearts stood still in the hush
Of an age gone by.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Danny Boy
(words & music by frederic e. weatherly)
Oh danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen and down the mountain side
The summers gone and all the roses dying
tis you, tis you must go and I must bye
But come ye back when summers in the meadow
Or when the valleys hushed and white with snow
And Ill be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh danny boy, oh danny boy I love you so
But if he come and all the roses dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
Hell come here and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an ava there for me
And I shall feel, oh soft you tread above me
And then my grave will richer, sweeter be
For you will bend and tell me that you love me
And I shall rest in peace until you come to me
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Aghadoe
There's a glade in Aghadoe, Aghadoe, Aghadoe,
There 's a green and silent glade in Aghadoe,
Where we met, my love and I, Love's fair planet in the sky,
O'er that sweet and silent glade in Aghadoe.
There 's a glen in Aghadoe, Aghadoe, Aghadoe,
There 's a deep and secret glen in Aghadoe,
Where I hid from the eyes of the red-coats and their spies,
That year the trouble came to Aghadoe.
O, my curse on one black heart in Aghadoe, Aghadoe,
On Shaun Dhu, my mother's son in Aghadoe!
When your throat fries in hell's drouth, salt the flame be in your
mouth,
For the treachery you did in Aghadoe!
For they track'd me to that glen in Aghadoe, Aghadoe,
When the price was on his head in Aghadoe:
O'er the mountain, through the wood, as I stole to him with food,
Where in hiding lone he lay in Aghadoe.
But they never took him living in Aghadoe, Aghadoe;
With the bullets in his heart in Aghadoe,
There he lay, the head, my breast keeps the warmth of where 'twould
rest,
Gone, to win the traitor's gold, from Aghadoe!
I walk'd to Mallow town from Aghadoe, Aghadoe,
Brought his head from the gaol's gate to Aghadoe;
Then I cover'd him with fern, and I piled on him the cairn,
Like an Irish King he sleeps in Aghadoe.
O, to creep into that cairn in Aghadoe, Aghadoe!
There to rest upon his breast in Aghadoe!
Sure your dog for you could die with no truer heart than I,
Your own love, cold on your cairn in Aghadoe.
poem by John Todhunter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!