After the Hunt
Underneath the windy mountain walls
Forth we rode, an eager band,
By the surges and the verges and the gorges,
Till the night was on the land—
On the hazy, mazy land!
Far away the bounding prey
Leapt across the ruts and logs,
But we galloped, galloped, galloped on,
Till we heard the yapping of the dogs—
The yapping and the yelping of the dogs.
Oh, it was a madly merry day
We shall not so soon forget,
And the edges and the ledges and the ridges
Haunt us with their echoes yet—
Echoes, echoes, echoes yet!
While the moon is on the hill
Gleaming through the streaming fogs,
Don’t you hear the yapping of the dogs—
The yapping and the yelping of the dogs?
poem by Henry Kendall
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Related quotes
Dogs (Homage)
Man’s best friend?
Why?
There is nothing quite as cute as a puppy
Dogs are more than pets, they’re companions
Dogs are fiercely loyal
Dogs protect life & property, even to their own demise
Dogs do not judge their masters
Dogs are grateful for any food fed them
Dogs can be trained to carry, guide, search, rescue and hunt
Dogs are great listeners
Dogs are ready to play anytime
Dogs are emotional sponges that absorb human misery
Dogs are wonderful match-makers and buffers
Dogs can chase away “The blues”
You can take a dog’s balls and he’ll still love you
Yes,
Dogs are 'Man’s best friend'
After all God is Dog spelled backwards...
poem by Ray Lucero
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Sonnet: Country-Dogs but…
Who says that country-dogs are unworthy,
And dogs that roam the streets are to be shot?
So, people use the term in sense filthy;
But Dogs or Dogs where-ever from they’re brought.
The Dogs I see are sensible enough,
And keep their bodies clean in ways they can;
But human beings to them appear rough;
By looking once, they know the kind of man!
And some have excellent memory also,
And remember your kindness for long years;
When strangers come at nights, barking they do;
Ev’n children need not have any fears.
They scour the land and become prey to snakes;
And some are dead, sometimes in nearby lakes.
6-20-2001
poem by John Celes
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Echoes Of Love
(words & music by roberts - bachelor)
Though you are gone, I still wear your ring
Theyre playing the song we used to sing
Echoes of love, echoes of love
Are coming to me out of the past
The letters you wrote I treasure them so
And I hear your voice wherever I go
Echoes of love, echoes of love
Are coming to me out of the past
In the rustle of a breeze; in the patter of the rain
In the rushing of the seas, all I hear is your name
Come back my love and once you are near
Darling I know no more will I hear
Echoes of love, echoes of love
cause youll be with me right in my heart
Echoes of love, echoes of love
cause youll be with me right in my heart
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Echoes of silence
A silent scream
A bad dream..
nightmare
Wake me up
Some one dare
Spare me.. spare!
Everytime i remember
that touch that smell
The day i experienced hell
my cross to bear
All my life
My death knell
My tortured sigh
someone hear in silence
my helplessness
As i laid that night
Silence echoes my fight
my plight!
Silence echoes
Scot free, he walks away
echoes till this day
Silence echoes
My lost innocence
At nights in dreams..
Night, witness to my pain
Driving me insane
within my heart...
Silence echoes,
My silent scream
my broken dreams..
Silence echoes....
poem by Meena Iyer
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Echoes Of Love
Patrick simmons / willie mitchell / earl randle
I hear your voice everywhere
Its echoes of love
Making me look back over my shoulder
Echoes of love are started all over
Echoes of love
Keeps on haunting
Im out of control
Keeps on burning
Echoes of love are out of control
Bringing back love I used to hold
Darlin, since you went away
Think about you every day
So many memories
Got to get the best of me
Recalling the times
I used to hold you
I just wouldnt do
What I was supposed to
Ive done things
Id like to undo
Now darlin its you
Id like to run to
Echoes of love
Keeps on haunting
Im out of control
Keeps on burning
Echoes of love are out of control
Bringing back love I used to hold
Echoes of love
Echoes of love
Love, echoes of love
Keeps on haunting
Echoes of love, echoes of love
Keeps on burning
Echoes of love
song performed by by Doobie Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stray dogs
Here and there and everywhere
Stray dogs doing business
And barkedup wrongtrees
And spoiled the working
Environments.
Stray dogs have no
Commonsense not true
Stray dogs encounter
The alien.
Stray dogs safeguard
The interest
And ensure to make
The area clean.
Stray dogs welcome
Common mass
Stray dogs do not like
Corrupt class.
Stray dogs can only think
The morrows
Stray dogs have practical
Experience and knowledge
You know I know all know.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Song: The Running Dogs
In a land of distant memory,
in the primal world of old,
dog and man were enemies;
and our story should be told.
Beyond the mystic mountain,
lived a pack of hungry hounds;
with a tribe of rustic humans,
who lacked our strength renowned.
A menace to our hunting grounds,
they laid their claim to turf;
and fenced our range to out of bounds,
and stole our birthright, earth.
Our children too were victims,
of eugenic genocide.
The wild spirit of our nature;
broken, tamed, denied.
They call us now the running dogs,
the stunted and the hunted dogs.
They call us now the running dogs,
but are we running scared?
We were once the Big Bad Wolf,
fierce nemesis of cloven hoof.
We patrolled the deep dark wood,
and took the rap for Riding Hood.
We were once a breed to fear,
of sneering breath and snarling leer.
We were threats to little pigs,
and architects in flimsy digs.
But now we lounge on comfy chairs,
grow fat and soft and take on airs.
As trustee to a gaoler's whim,
our savage past must fade and dim.
They call us now the running dogs,
not cunning, merely stunning dogs.
They call us now the running dogs,
but are we running scared?
Running, running, running dogs.
I see and shun those running dogs.
Running, running, running dogs;
the docked and doctored curs.
Running, running, running dogs.
I see no fun in running dogs.
Running, running, running dogs;
till our heaving lungs will burst.
Running, running, running dogs.
And I am done with running dogs.
Running, running, running dogs.
For by that name we're cursed!
poem by David SmithWhite
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Blow, Bugle, Blow
THE splendour falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Splendor Falls
The splendor falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes dying, dying, dying.
O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes dying, dying, dying.
O love they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field, or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow forever and forever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dogs In The Midwinter
You ever had a day like I had today,
When things are stacked up bad?
You look around and every face you see
Seems guaranteed to send you mad.
And you peer into those hallowed institutions.
And they bark at you from every side.
But the bite goes wide.
I see them running with their tails hanging low
Like dogs in the midwinter.
The prophets and the wise men and the hard politicos
Are all dogs in the midwinter.
Let the breath from the mountain still the pain,
Clear water from the fountain run sweeter than the rain.
Dogs in the midwinter.
The boss man and the tax man and the moneylenders growl...
Like dogs in the midwinter.
The weaker of the herd can feel their eyes and hear them howl
Like dogs in the midwinter.
Though the fox and the rabbit are at peace,
Cold doggies in the manger turn last suppers into feasts.
Dogs in the midwinter.
You ever had a day like I had today ---
Dogs in the midwinter.
You look around and every face you see ---
Dogs in the midwinter.
And you peer into those hallowed institutions.
And they bark at you from every side.
But the bite goes wide.
Were all running on a tightrope, wearing slippers in the snow...
Were all dogs in the midwinter.
The ice is ever thinner. be careful how you go
Like dogs in the midwinter.
And its hard to find true equilibrium
When youre looking at each other down the muzzle of a gun.
Dogs in the midwinter.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was up late last night yapping about the elections on CNN and up early this morning doing the same thing in my daughter's kindergarten class.
quote by Tucker Carlson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scattered echoes
To my wonderfull family.
I so very sorry.
Yes I finaly done it.
I took my own life.
But my life was taken long ago.
I heard scattered echoes in the wind.
They told me to go back home.
I listened to the scattered echoes of the wind.
Becuase I'd had enough of pointless pain.
Yes you'll be angry.
I know you'll be sad.
I guess you'll grieve for a while
But soon you will see this was meant to be.
Things have worked out for the best.
In the scattered echoes of the wind.
If you listen carefully you'll hear my cries.
My cries to you on earth below.
I'm sorry
My echoes in the scattered wind are crying to you.
I'm sorry really I am.
Go get on with your life.
Live for each other.
Live your dream.
The scattered echoes of the wind shout out to you.
Now the time has come let her go.
Move on with your life.
She wouldnt want you to live this way
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Laughter echoes
Laughter echoes
Giggles, chuckles, snigger's
He's in hysterics
Laughter echoes
Blood trickles
Oozing, seeping, gushing
His beautiful broken skull
Laughter echoes
Cold voice whispers
Mutters, murmurs, mumbles
He won't stop laughing
Laughter echoes
poem by Fedora Wearing Biggins
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Song of the Cattle Hunters
While the morning light beams on the fern-matted streams,
And the water-pools flash in its glow,
Down the ridges we fly, with a loud ringing cry --
Down the ridges and gullies we go!
And the cattle we hunt -- they are racing in front,
With a roar like the thunder of waves,
As the beat and the beat of our swift horses' feet
Start the echoes away from their caves!
As the beat and the beat
Of our swift horses' feet
Start the echoes away from their caves!
Like a wintry shore that the waters ride o'er,
All the lowlands are filling with sound;
For swiftly we gain where the herds on the plain,
Like a tempest, are tearing the ground!
And we'll follow them hard to the rails of the yard,
O'er the gulches and mountain-tops grey,
Where the beat and the beat of our swift horses' feet
Will die with the echoes away!
Where the beat and the beat
Of our swift horses' feet
Will die with the echoes away!
poem by Henry Kendall
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What Would We Do Without Dogs?
What would we do without dogs?
Well, I'll tell you what we would do.
We'd wonder why they were taken away,
And ponder until we turn blue.
Why would we do all of this?
I'd do this because I care.
I care about animals and nature,
So to take away dogs, well,
If I were you, I wouldn't dare.
What would we do without dogs?
They say they are man's best friend.
So I guess the people would be sad,
Because it would have came the dogs' end.
Let's hope this never happens,
Until the end of time.
For now, while they're here,
Let's help and try and try,
To keep them here.
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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If Dogs Run Free
If dogs run free, then why not we
Across the swooping plain?
My ears hear a symphony
Of two mules, trains and rain.
The best is always yet to come,
Thats what they explain to me.
Just do your thing, youll be king,
If dogs run free.
If dogs run free, why not me
Across the swamp of time?
My mind weaves a symphony
And tapestry of rhyme.
Oh, winds which rush my tale to thee
So it may flow and be,
To each his own, its all unknown,
If dogs run free.
If dogs run free, then what must be,
Must be, and that is all.
True love can make a blade of grass
Stand up straight and tall.
In harmony with the cosmic sea,
True love needs no company,
It can cure the soul, it can make it whole,
If dogs run free.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most people read poetry listening for echoes because the echoes are familiar to them. They wade through it the way a boy wades through water, feeling with his toes for the bottom: The echoes are the bottom.
quote by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Echoes in the Night
Echoes in the lonely night
leave me in the morn.
For then the noisy hours
once again are born.
And all the voices that I hear
I wish would go away.
So the echoes that still me
would also fill my day.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Every year, back come Spring, with nasty little birds yapping their fool heads off and the ground all mucked up with plants.
quote by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Legend Of The O Keeffes
It must be a fallacy that dead canines can fly
But of the mystery in myths and legends one cannot deny
And one legend I recall from decades gone by
Is when an O Keeffe dies in Cullen dogs bark in the sky.
The legend of the O Keeffes has travelled far and wide
They hunted with their dogs in Duhallow's country-side
And stories of them in Duhallow abound
Of how with their dogs they hunted on foot covering miles of ground.
'Tis said the O Keeffes the best hunting dogs kept
And with their wives in their beds their dogs with them slept
And for the kindness shown to them their dogs them did repay
The O Keeffes never did know a poor hunting day.
I tell it as I heard it and I don't tell you a lie
It is said that in Cullen when an O Keeffe die
The dogs of their dead ancestors bark in the moonlight
In the starry sky in the dead of the night.
You can make out of this whatever you may
But in Duhallow the legend is living today
Of when a Cullen O Keeffe dies canines bark in the sky
The ghosts of their ancestors dogs on them have wings to fly.
poem by Francis Duggan
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