Brighten’s Sister-In-Law [or The Carrier's Story]
AT A POINT where the old road crosses
The river, and turns to the right,
I’d camped with the team; and the hosses
Was all fixed up for the night.
I’d been to the town to carry
A load to the Cudgegong;
And I’d taken the youngster, Harry,
On a trip as I’d promis’d him long.
I had seven more, and another
That died at the age of three;
But they all took arter the mother,
And Harry took arter me.
And from the tiniest laddie
’Twas always his fondest dream
To go on the roads with his daddy,
And help him to drive the team.
He was bright at the school and clever,
The best of the youngsters there;
And the teacher said there was never
A lad that promised so fair.
And I half forgot life’s battle,
An’ its long, hard-beaten road,
In the sound of the youngster’s prattle
From his perch on top o’ the load.
An’ when he was tired o’ ridin’
I’d lift him down for a walk,
And he’d say, at my silence chidin’,
“Now, daddy tell me some talk.”
And oft by the camp-fire sittin’,
When the bush was round us wild,
I’d yarn by the hour, forgittin’
That Harry was only a child.
But to-day he’d been strange and quiet,
An’ lay on the chaff-bags still;
An’ though he’d bravely deny it,
I know’d as the boy was ill.
He said he was “only dosey”,
In his queer old-fashioned way;
And I fixed him up warm an’ cosey
In the hammock under the dray.
I fried him some eggs and some bakin’
Which I couldn’t git him to touch;
And it set my heart a-achin
For he’d always eaten so much.
I wandered about half silly,
And thought that my heart would stop;
And the tea got cold in the billy,
For I couldn’t ’a’ tasted a drop.
I’d seen the same sickness of’en;
An’ my spirits began to droop,
For as soon as he started coughin’
I know’d as he’d got the croup.
’Twas fifteen mile to the river;
An’ Gulgong was twenty-five;
An’ I thought ’twas a chance if ever
I got him back home alive.
The thought of the loss was horrid
If the young ’un was taken away;
And I went and leaned my forehead
Against the tire o’ the dray.
And sudden I started cryin’,
And sobbed like a woman too;
For I felt that the boy was dyin’,
And I didn’t know what to do.
All helpless I was, and lonely;
But I thought ’twas a coward’s cry
To call on the Saviour only
When trouble or death was nigh.
But after a while I lifted
My eyes to the steely blue
Of the sky where somethin’ drifted
Like a great white cockatoo.
An’ nearer it came, and nearer,
Right down to the branch of the tree;
And it seemed when its shape grew clearer,
Like the form of a woman to me.
For a moment it seemed to tarry,
An’ p’int away up the road,
An’ then seemed pintin’ at Harry,
A-coughin’ beneath the load.
I don’t want ter arger; there’s chances
The vision was only the sky,
Or the smoke outlin’d on the branches,
Or a lonely cloud on high.
But I says ’twas a message from glory;
I sees as yer goin’ to chaff;
Just wait till I done my story,
An’ laugh if yer want to laugh.
Away went the vision flyin’;
Up into the blue it went;
And I stood for a minute tryin’
To think what its comin’ meant.
When it flashed on my brain like lightnin’;
An’ arter I thought it strange
I’d almost forgotten old Brighten
Who lived on the top of the range.
He lived on a small selection,
Or used ter live there I know’d;
An’ it lay in a west direction,
’Bout five miles back from the road.
I harnessed the horses quicker
Than ever I’d taken ’em out;
An’ they must ’a’ thought me in liquor,
For the way as I shov’d ’em about.
I’d allers bin fond o’ sneerin’
An’ laughin’ at women’s ways;
I could see in their lives, I’m fearin’,
But little as called for praise;
But now when I thought he’d smother
With croup in the lonely wild,
Good God, how I longed for a mother
To save the life of my child!
I seed in a vision each minit
The youngster nursed back into life;
An’ the hand of a woman was in it;
An’ the woman was Brighten’s wife.
There’s times when not knowin’ a bliss is,
As Harry’s school-teacher ’ud say:
And I didn’t know Brighten’s missis
Had gone to the town that day.
In a moment I’d lifted Harry
To the bags on top of the load;
And I flogged the weary horses
Along on the dusty road.
But ev’rything seem’d to hinder
My hopes when I reached the hut;
For there wasn’t a light in the winder;
And both o’ the doors was shut.
That moment my heart got hurted;
An’ I felt it for many a day;
For I thought that the place was deserted,
An’ Brighten had gone away.
But I called; and the door was opened,
An’ I saw that the hut was alight;
It hadn’t shone in the winders;
For the moon was shinin’ bright.
An’ there in the door, with a candle,
I saw old Brighten stand,
With his fingers grasping the handle
Of a pistol he held in his hand.
“If any one moves,” he shouted,
“I’ll fire if I’ve got to hang!”
For the moment he never doubted
’Twas a visit from Gard’ner’s gang.
I didn’t move in a hurry;
For a man in a fright shoots quick.
But I told him he needn’t flurry,
’Twas only a youngster sick.
“Stan’ back,” said old Brighten, snatchin’
An’ shuttin’ the door in his fright;
“It’s typhoid, maybe, he’s catchin’:
An’ I can’t have him here to-night.”
But a woman’s voice shouted, “What is it?”
I’d never seen her before;
She was only there on a visit;
’Twas Brighten’s sister-in-law.
An’ nothin’ seemed able to frighten
This woman so pale an’ thin;
She pushed from the door old Brighten,
An’ carried the youngster in.
She’d bin hospital nurse in the city,
I heard, and had got the sack
For havin’ a little pity,
An’ exposin’ a doctor quack;
Some trumped-up stories agin her
All over the town was belled;
An’ in spite of the fightin’ in her
They got her at last expelled.
An’, talkin’ o’ fight, I’m fearin‘
There’s sudden fightin’ in store
For the first as speaks in my hearin’
’Gin Brighten’s sister-in-law;
For, in spite of old Brighten’s cussin’,
She got the youngster to bed;
And arter a week’s good nussin’
She won him back from the dead.
And then I began to hanker
For a speech to tell her the joy
I felt in my heart, and to thank her
For givin’ me back my boy.
The mornin’ I left old Brighten’s,
While puttin’ the horses to,
I puzzled my brains to make up
A speech as I thought would do.
She lifted the youngster and kissed him,
And helped him into the dray;
An’ I thought of how I’d ’a’ missed him,
If he’d only been taken away.
An’, “Mum,” I sez; “I oughter—”
An’ to finish the speech I tries;
But all on a sudden the water
Kem bubblin’ up to my eyes.
An’ down’ard, like water-courses,
The tears began to tear;
An’ I had to swear at the horses
To hide my weakness from her.
But the tears was only human
An’ they seem’d to ha’ done some good;
For she pressed my hand like a woman,
An’ said that she understood.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Ive Been Here Before
Ive tried so many times
To keep romance alive
I guess I never really had true love
Then you came my way
And nothings been the same
Now youre all Im ever thinking of
If I had the say youd be staying
Chorus
Hey Ive been here before
Looking in your eyes see just a little more I said
Hey Ive been here before
Someone must have sent you down to brighten up my life
One in a million boy
You fill me up with joy
Sometimes I dont believe in accidents
I know were meant to be
Its so plain to see
From here on out it where the fun begins
If I have the say youll be staying
Chorus
Hey Ive been here before
Looking in your eyes see just a little more I say
Hey Ive been here before
Someone must have sent you down to brighten up my life
Sent you down to brighten up my life
Bridge
Sometimes the obvious is hard to see
Now here you are standing right in front of me
I could have missed my one and only
Chance for love chance for love oh
Hey Ive been here before
Looking in your eyes see just a little more I said
Hey Ive been here before
Someone must have sent you down to brighten up my
Sent you down to brighten up my life
Chorus
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Number 3 on the Docket
The lawyer, are you?
Well! I ain't got nothin' to say.
Nothin'!
I told the perlice I hadn't nothin'.
They know'd real well 'twas me.
Ther warn't no supposin',
Ketchin' me in the woods as they did,
An' me in my house dress.
Folks don't walk miles an' miles
In the drifted snow,
With no hat nor wrap on 'em
Ef everythin's all right, I guess.
All right? Ha! Ha! Ha!
Nothin' warn't right with me.
Never was.
Oh, Lord! Why did I do it?
Why ain't it yesterday, and Ed here agin?
Many's the time I've set up with him nights
When he had cramps, or rheumatizm, or somethin'.
I used ter nurse him same's ef he was a baby.
I wouldn't hurt him, I love him!
Don't you dare to say I killed him. 'Twarn't me!
Somethin' got aholt o' me. I couldn't help it.
Oh, what shall I do! What shall I do!
Yes, Sir.
No, Sir.
I beg your pardon, I - I -
Oh, I'm a wicked woman!
An' I'm desolate, desolate!
Why warn't I struck dead or paralyzed
Afore my hands done it.
Oh, my God, what shall I do!
No, Sir, ther ain't no extenuatin' circumstances,
An' I don't want none.
I want a bolt o' lightnin'
To strike me dead right now!
Oh, I'll tell yer.
But it won't make no diff'rence.
Nothin' will.
Yes, I killed him.
Why do yer make me say it?
It's cruel! Cruel!
I killed him because o' th' silence.
The long, long silence,
That watched all around me,
And he wouldn't break it.
I tried to make him,
Time an' agin,
But he was terrible taciturn, Ed was.
He never spoke 'cept when he had to,
An' then he'd only say 'yes' and 'no'.
You can't even guess what that silence was.
I'd hear it whisperin' in my ears,
An' I got frightened, 'twas so thick,
An' al'ays comin' back.
Ef Ed would ha' talked sometimes
It would ha' driven it away;
But he never would.
He didn't hear it same as I did.
You see, Sir,
Our farm was off'n the main road,
And set away back under the mountain;
And the village was seven mile off,
Measurin' after you'd got out o' our lane.
We didn't have no hired man,
'Cept in hayin' time;
An' Dane's place,
That was the nearest,
Was clear way 'tother side the mountain.
They used Marley post-office
An' ours was Benton.
Ther was a cart-track took yer to Dane's in Summer,
An' it warn't above two mile that way,
But it warn't never broke out Winters.
I used to dread the Winters.
Seem's ef I couldn't abear to see the golden-rod bloomin';
Winter'd come so quick after that.
You don't know what snow's like when yer with it
Day in an' day out.
Ed would be out all day loggin',
An' I set at home and look at the snow
Layin' over everythin';
It 'ud dazzle me blind,
Till it warn't white any more, but black as ink.
Then the quiet 'ud commence rushin' past my ears
Till I most went mad listenin' to it.
Many's the time I've dropped a pan on the floor
Jest to hear it clatter.
I was most frantic when dinner-time come
An' Ed was back from the woods.
I'd ha' give my soul to hear him speak.
But he'd never say a word till I asked him
Did he like the raised biscuits or whatever,
An' then sometimes he'd jest nod his answer.
Then he'd go out agin,
An' I'd watch him from the kitchin winder.
It seemed the woods come marchin' out to meet him
An' the trees 'ud press round him an' hustle him.
I got so I was scared o' th' trees.
I thought they come nearer,
Every day a little nearer,
Closin' up round the house.
I never went in t' th' woods Winters,
Though in Summer I liked 'em well enough.
It warn't so bad when my little boy was with us.
He used to go sleddin' and skatin',
An' every day his father fetched him to school in the pung
An' brought him back agin.
We scraped an' scraped fer Neddy,
We wanted him to have a education.
We sent him to High School,
An' then he went up to Boston to Technology.
He was a minin' engineer,
An' doin' real well,
A credit to his bringin' up.
But his very first position ther was an explosion in the mine.
And I'm glad! I'm glad!
He ain't here to see me now.
Neddy! Neddy!
I'm your mother still, Neddy.
Don't turn from me like that.
I can't abear it. I can't! I can't!
What did you say?
Oh, yes, Sir.
I'm here.
I'm very sorry,
I don't know what I'm sayin'.
No, Sir,
Not till after Neddy died.
'Twas the next Winter the silence come,
I don't remember noticin' it afore.
That was five year ago,
An' it's been gittin' worse an' worse.
I asked Ed to put in a telephone.
I thought ef I felt the whisperin' comin' on
I could ring up some o' th' folks.
But Ed wouldn't hear of it.
He said we'd paid so much for Neddy
We couldn't hardly git along as 'twas.
An' he never understood me wantin' to talk.
Well, this year was worse'n all the others;
We had a terrible spell o' stormy weather,
An' the snow lay so thick
You couldn't see the fences even.
Out o' doors was as flat as the palm o' my hand,
Ther warn't a hump or a holler
Fer as you could see.
It was so quiet
The snappin' o' the branches back in the wood-lot
Sounded like pistol shots.
Ed was out all day
Same as usual.
An' it seemed he talked less'n ever.
He didn't even say `Good-mornin'', once or twice,
An' jest nodded or shook his head when I asked him things.
On Monday he said he'd got to go over to Benton
Fer some oats.
I'd oughter ha' gone with him,
But 'twas washin' day
An' I was afeared the fine weather'd break,
An' I couldn't do my dryin'.
All my life I'd done my work punctual,
An' I couldn't fix my conscience
To go junketin' on a washin'-day.
I can't tell you what that day was to me.
It dragged an' dragged,
Fer ther warn't no Ed ter break it in the middle
Fer dinner.
Every time I stopped stirrin' the water
I heerd the whisperin' all about me.
I stopped oftener'n I should
To see ef 'twas still ther,
An' it al'ays was.
An' gittin' louder
It seemed ter me.
Once I threw up the winder to feel the wind.
That seemed most alive somehow.
But the woods looked so kind of menacin'
I closed it quick
An' started to mangle's hard's I could,
The squeakin' was comfortin'.
Well, Ed come home 'bout four.
I seen him down the road,
An' I run out through the shed inter th' barn
To meet him quicker.
I hollered out, `Hullo!'
But he didn't say nothin',
He jest drove right in
An' climbed out o' th' sleigh
An' commenced unharnessin'.
I asked him a heap o' questions;
Who he'd seed
An' what he'd done.
Once in a while he'd nod or shake,
But most o' th' time he didn't do nothin'.
'Twas gittin' dark then,
An' I was in a state,
With the loneliness
An' Ed payin' no attention
Like somethin' warn't livin'.
All of a sudden it come,
I don't know what,
But I jest couldn't stand no more.
It didn't seem 's though that was Ed,
An' it didn't seem as though I was me.
I had to break a way out somehow,
Somethin' was closin' in
An' I was stiflin'.
Ed's loggin' axe was ther,
An' I took it.
Oh, my God!
I can't see nothin' else afore me all the time.
I run out inter th' woods,
Seemed as ef they was pullin' me;
An' all the time I was wadin' through the snow
I seed Ed in front of me
Where I'd laid him.
An' I see him now.
There! There!
What you holdin' me fer?
I want ter go to Ed,
He's bleedin'.
Stop holdin' me.
I got to go.
I'm comin', Ed.
I'll be ther in a minit.
Oh, I'm so tired!
(Faints)
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Reaping
You want to know what's the matter with me, do yer?
My! ain't men blinder'n moles?
It ain't nothin' new, be sure o' that.
Why, ef you'd had eyes you'd ha' seed
Me changin' under your very nose,
Each day a little diff'rent.
But you never see nothin', you don't.
Don't touch me, Jake,
Don't you dars't to touch me,
I ain't in no humour.
That's what's come over me;
Jest a change clear through.
You lay still, an' I'll tell yer,
I've had it on my mind to tell yer
Fer some time.
It's a strain livin' a lie from mornin' till night,
An' I'm goin' to put an end to it right now.
An' don't make any mistake about one thing,
When I married yer I loved yer.
Why, your voice 'ud make
Me go hot and cold all over,
An' your kisses most stopped my heart from beatin'.
Lord! I was a silly fool.
But that's the way 'twas.
Well, I married yer
An' thought Heav'n was comin'
To set on the door-step.
Heav'n didn't do no settin',
Though the first year warn't so bad.
The baby's fever threw you off some, I guess,
An' then I took her death real hard,
An' a mopey wife kind o' disgusts a man.
I ain't blamin' yer exactly.
But that's how 'twas.
Do lay quiet,
I know I'm slow, but it's harder to say 'n I thought.
There come a time when I got to be
More wife agin than mother.
The mother part was sort of a waste
When we didn't have no other child.
But you'd got used ter lots o' things,
An' you was all took up with the farm.
Many's the time I've laid awake
Watchin' the moon go clear through the elm-tree,
Out o' sight.
I'd foller yer around like a dog,
An' set in the chair you'd be'n settin' in,
Jest to feel its arms around me,
So long's I didn't have yours.
It preyed on me, I guess,
Longin' and longin'
While you was busy all day, and snorin' all night.
Yes, I know you're wide awake now,
But now ain't then,
An' I guess you'll think diff'rent
When I'm done.
Do you mind the day you went to Hadrock?
I didn't want to stay home for reasons,
But you said someone 'd have to be here
'Cause Elmer was comin' to see t' th' telephone.
An' you never see why I was so set on goin' with yer,
Our married life hadn't be'n any great shakes,
Still marriage is marriage, an' I was raised God-fearin'.
But, Lord, you didn't notice nothin',
An' Elmer hangin' around all Winter!
'Twas a lovely mornin'.
The apple-trees was jest elegant
With their blossoms all flared out,
An' there warn't a cloud in the sky.
You went, you wouldn't pay no 'tention to what I said,
An' I heard the Ford chuggin' for most a mile,
The air was so still.
Then Elmer come.
It's no use your frettin', Jake,
I'll tell you all about it.
I know what I'm doin',
An' what's worse, I know what I done.
Elmer fixed th' telephone in about two minits,
An' he didn't seem in no hurry to go,
An' I don't know as I wanted him to go either,
I was awful mad at your not takin' me with yer,
An' I was tired o' wishin' and wishin'
An' gittin' no comfort.
I guess it ain't necessary to tell yer all the things.
He stayed to dinner,
An' he helped me do the dishes,
An' he said a home was a fine thing,
An' I said dishes warn't a home
Nor yet the room they're in.
He said a lot o' things,
An' I fended him off at first,
But he got talkin' all around me,
Clost up to the things I'd be'n thinkin',
What's the use o' me goin' on, Jake,
You know.
He got all he wanted,
An' I give it to him,
An' what's more, I'm glad!
I ain't dead, anyway,
An' somebody thinks I'm somethin'.
Keep away, Jake,
You can kill me to-morrer if you want to,
But I'm goin' to have my say.
Funny thing! Guess I ain't made to hold a man.
Elmer ain't be'n here for mor'n two months.
I don't want to pretend nothin',
Mebbe if he'd be'n lately
I shouldn't have told yer.
I'll go away in the mornin', o' course.
What you want the light fer?
I don't look no diff'rent.
Ain't the moon bright enough
To look at a woman that's deceived yer by?
Don't, Jake, don't, you can't love me now!
It ain't a question of forgiveness.
Why! I'd be thinkin' o' Elmer ev'ry minute;
It ain't decent.
Oh, my God! It ain't decent any more either way!
poem by Amy Lowell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bonnie Lass o' Ruily
'Twas in the village of Ruily there lived a bonnie lass
With red, pouting lips which few lasses could surpass,
And her eyes were as azure the blue sky,
Which caused Donald McNeill to heave many a love sigh
Beyond the township of Ruily she never had been,
This pretty maid with tiny feet and aged eighteen;
And when Donald would ask her to be his wife,
"No," she would say, "I'm not going to stay here all my life."
"I'm sick of this life," she said to Donald one day,
"By making the parridge and carrying peats from the bog far away."
"Then marry me, Belle, and peats you shall never carry again,
And we might take a trip to Glasgow and there remain."
Then she answered him crossly, "I wish you wouldn't bother me,
For I'm tired of this kind of talk, as you may see."
So at last there came a steamer to Ruily one day,
So big that if almost seemed to fill the bay.
Then Belle and Effie Mackinnon came to the door with a start,
While Belle's red, pouting lips were wide apart;
But when she saw the Redcoats coming ashore
She thought she had never seen such splendid men before.
One day after the steamer "Resistless" had arrived,
Belle's spirits seemed suddenly to be revived;
And as Belle was lifting peats a few feet from the door
She was startled by a voice she never heard before.
The speaker wore a bright red coat and a small cap,
And she thought to herself he is a handsome chap;
Then the speaker said, "'Tis a fine day," and began to flatter,
Until at last he asked Belle for a drink of watter.
Then she glanced up at him shyly, while uneasy she did feel,
At the thought of having to hoist the peat-creel;
And she could see curly, fair hair beneath his cap,
Still, she thought to herself, he is a good-looking chap.
And his eyes were blue and sparkling as the water in the bay,
And he spoke in a voice that was pleasant and gay;
Then he took hold of the peat-creel as he spoke,
But Belle only laughed and considered it a joke.
Then Belle shook her head and lifted the peats on her back,
But he followed her home whilst to her he did crack;
And by and by she brought him a drink of watter,
While with loving words he began Belle to flatter.
And after he had drank the watter and handed back the jug,
He said, "You are the sweetest flower that's to be found in Ruily";
And he touched her bare arm as he spoke,
Which proved to be sailor Harry's winning stroke.
But it would have been well for Belle had it ended there,
But it did not, for the sailor followed her, I do declare;
And he was often at old Mackinnon's fireside,
And there for hours on an evening he would abide.
And Belle would wait on him with love-lit eyes,
While Harry's heart would heave with many love sighs.
At last, one night Belle said, "I hear you're going away."
Then Harry Lochton said, "'Tis true, Belie, and I must obey.
But, my heather Belle, if you'll leave Ruily with me
I'll marry you, with your father's consent, immediately."
Then she put her arms around his neck and said, "Harry, I will."
Then Harry said, "You'll be a sailor's wife for good or ill."
In five days after Belie got married to her young sailor lad,
And there was a grand wedding, and old Mackinnon felt glad;
And old Mackinnon slapped his son-in-law on the back
And said, "I hope good health and money you will never lack."
At last the day came that Harry had to go away,
And Harry said, "God bless you, Belle, by night and day;
But you will come to Portsmouth and I will meet you there,
Remember, at the railway platform, and may God of you take care."
And when she arrived in Portsmouth she was amazed at the sight,
But when she saw Harry her heart beat with delight;
And when the train stopped, Harry to her quickly ran,
And took her tin-box from the luggage van.
Then he took her to her new home without delay,
And the endless stairs and doors filled her heart with dismay;
But for that day the hours flew quickly past,
Because she knew she was with her Harry at last.
But there came a day when Harry was ordered away,
And he said, "My darling, I'll come back some unexpected day."
Then he kissed her at parting and "Farewell" he cries,
While the tears fell fast from her bonnie blue eyes.
Then when Harry went away she grew very ill,
And she cried, "If Harry stays long away this illness will me kill."
At last Harry came home and found her ill in bed,
And he cried, "My heather Belle, you're as pale as the dead."
Then she cried, "Harry, sit so as I may see your face,
Beside me here, Harry, that's just the place."
Then on his shoulder she gently dropped her head;
Then Harry cried, "Merciful heaven, my heather Belle is dead!"
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brighten Your Night With My Day
Daybreak finds you up and alive
Just as though you could touch a star
But sunset seems to leave you weary alone
And wondering who you are
Dont deny that lonely feeling
That keeps stealing on you from deep down inside
Hey, cant you see that its no good concealing
A feeling it hurts you to hide
When you can come home to me
Yes, Im happy to hear what youve got
To say to me, baby, all the way
Girl, you can count on me
Watch those shadows fade away
And brighten your night with my day
Daybreak, sunset hot and cold
Running smiles and tears
A bright outside to match your foolish pride
But not a word for the lonely years
Please come back to me
Now you wont have to say
That youll stay with me, baby, no, its not that way
Just come back home to me
Watch those shadows fade away
And brighten your night with my...
Daybreak, sunset
You dont have to cry no more
Now, everythings gonna be just fine
Watch out, baby, here it comes
Right around the corner
Here it comes
Just brighten your night with my day
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Leaf
Somebody said, in the crowd, last eve,
That you were married, or soon to be.
I have not thought of you, I believe,
Since last we parted. Let me see:
Five long Summers have passed since then –
Each has been pleasant in its own way –
And you are but one of a dozen men
Who have played the suitor a Summer day.
But, nevertheless, when I heard your name,
Coupled with some one’s, not my own,
There burned in my bosom a sudden flame,
That carried me back to the day that is flown.
I was sitting again by the laughing brook,
With you at my feet, and the sky above,
And my heart was fluttering under your look –
The unmistakable look of Love.
Again your breath, like a South wind, fanned
My cheek, where the blushes came and went;
And the tender clasp of your strong, warm hand
Sudden thrills through my pulses sent.
Again you were mine by Love’s decree:
So for a moment it seemed last night,
When somebody mentioned your name to me.
Just for the moment I thought you mine –
Loving me, wooing me, as of old.
The tale remembered seemed half divine –
Though I held it lightly enough when told.
The past seemed fairer than when it was near,
As ‘blessings brighten when taking flight, ’
And just for the moment I held you near –
When somebody mentioned your name last night.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Keep On The Sunnyside
(alvin pleasant carter, gary garett)
Theres a dark and a troubled side of life
Theres a bright and a sunnyside, too.
Though we meet with the darkness and strife
The sunnyside we also may view.
Keep on the sunnyside
Always on the sunnyside
Keep on the sunnyside of life.
It will help us every day
It will brighten all our way
If we keep on the sunnyside of life.
The storm and its fury rage today
Crushing hope that we cherished so dear.
Storm and clouds will in time pass away,
The sun again will shine bright and clear.
Keep on the sunnyside
Always on the sunnyside
Keep on the sunnyside of life.
It will help us every day
It will brighten all our way
If we keep on the sunnyside of life.
May the street with the song of hope be paved
Though the moment be cloudy or fair.
May we trust in the good lord always
To keep us everyone in his care.
Keep on the sunnyside
Always on the sunnyside
Keep on the sunnyside of life.
It will help us every day
It will brighten all our way
If we keep on the sunnyside of life.
Keep on the sunnyside
Always on the sunnyside
Keep on the sunnyside of life.
It will help us every day
It will brighten all our way
If we keep on ...
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle Harry
Oh, never let on to your own true love
That ever you drank a drop;
That ever you played in a two-up school
Or slept in a sly-grog shop;
That ever a bad girl nursed you round –
That ever you sank so low.
But she pulled you through, and it's only you
And your old mate Harry know.
"Billy the Link" they called you then,
And it makes me sad to think
Of the strenuous days when it took three cops
And a pimp to couple the Link.
"Mister Linkhurst" they call you now,
And your kitchen garden grows;
And no one knows in your family,
But your Uncle Harry knows.
Oh, never let on to your fair young bride
How a "straight" girl stabbed your heart
With a devilish wire to the Western side
Where we were a world apart.
With pick and shovel you fought it out
Where the red sirocco blows;
And no one knew in the gang save you –
But your old mate Harry knows.
Oh, never let on to your own good wife,
For a tender heart has she,
Of the girl that loved and the girl that lies
In the graveyard there by the sea!
'Twas not for his "manners" she loved the cad,
'Twas not for his verse or prose,
But the pity she felt for the country lad –
And your Uncle Harry knows.
The bad girl went where the bad girls go
And I see her dark eyes yet;
The good girl left me her broken heart,
But I trow that their souls have met.
The cry of the heart we send not forth
On every wind that blows;
You are hiding a sorrow from someone now –
But your Uncle Harry knows.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Song of the Old Bullock-Driver
Far back in the days when the blacks used to ramble
In long single file ’neath the evergreen tree,
The wool-teams in season came down from Coonamble,
And journeyed for weeks on their way to the sea,
’Twas then that our hearts and our sinews were stronger,
For those were the days when the bushman was bred.
We journeyed on roads that were rougher and longer
Than roads where the feet of our grandchildren tread.
With mates who have gone to the great Never-Never,
And mates whom I’ve not seen for many a day,
I camped on the banks of the Cudgegong River
And yarned at the fire by the old bullock-dray.
I would summon them back from the far Riverina,
From days that shall be from all others distinct,
And sing to the sound of an old concertina
Their rugged old songs where strange fancies were linked.
We never were lonely, for, camping together,
We yarned and we smoked the long evenings away,
And little I cared for the signs of the weather
When snug in my hammock slung under the dray.
We rose with the dawn, were it ever so chilly,
When yokes and tarpaulins were covered with frost,
And toasted the bacon and boiled the black billy,
Where high on the camp-fire the branches were tossed.
On flats where the air was suggestive of ’possums,
And homesteads and fences were hinting of change,
We saw the faint glimmer of appletree blossoms
And far in the distance the blue of the range;
And here in the rain, there was small use in flogging
The poor, tortured bullocks that tugged at the load,
When down to the axles the waggons were bogging
And traffic was making a marsh of the road.
’Twas hard on the beasts on the terrible pinches,
Where two teams of bullocks were yoked to a load,
And tugging and slipping, and moving by inches,
Half-way to the summit they clung to the road.
And then, when the last of the pinches was bested,
(You’ll surely not say that a glass was a sin?)
The bullocks lay down ’neath the gum trees and rested —
The bullockies steered for the bar of the inn.
Then slowly we crawled by the trees that kept tally
Of miles that were passed on the long journey down.
We saw the wild beauty of Capertee Valley,
As slowly we rounded the base of the Crown.
But, ah! the poor bullocks were cruelly goaded
While climbing the hills from the flats and the vales;
’Twas here that the teams were so often unloaded
That all knew the meaning of ‘counting your bales.’
And, oh! but the best-paying load that I carried
Was one to the run where my sweetheart was nurse.
We courted awhile, and agreed to get married,
And couple our futures for better or worse.
And as my old feet grew too weary to drag on
The miles of rough metal they met by the way,
My eldest grew up and I gave him the waggon —
He’s plodding along by the bullocks to-day.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Goody Blake and Harry Gill
Oh! what's the matter? what's the matter?
What is't that ails young Harry Gill?
That evermore his teeth they chatter,
Chatter, chatter, chatter still!
Of waistcoats Harry has no lack,
Good duffle grey, and flannel fine;
He has a blanket on his back,
And coats enough to smother nine.
In March, December, and in July,
'Tis all the same with Harry Gill;
The neighbours tell, and tell you truly,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
At night, at morning, and at noon,
'Tis all the same with Harry Gill;
Beneath the sun, beneath the moon,
His teeth they chatter, chatter still!
Young Harry was a lusty drover,
And who so stout of limb as he?
His cheeks were red as ruddy clover;
His voice was like the voice of three.
Old Goody Blake was old and poor;
Ill fed she was, and thinly clad;
And any man who passed her door
Might see how poor a hut she had.
All day she spun in her poor dwelling:
And then her three hours' work at night,
Alas! 'twas hardly worth the telling,
It would not pay for candle-light.
Remote from sheltered village-green,
On a hill's northern side she dwelt,
Where from sea-blasts the hawthorns lean,
And hoary dews are slow to melt.
By the same fire to boil their pottage,
Two poor old Dames, as I have known,
Will often live in one small cottage;
But she, poor Woman! housed alone.
'Twas well enough when summer came,
The long, warm, lightsome summer-day,
Then at her door the 'canty' Dame
Would sit, as any linnet, gay.
But when the ice our streams did fetter,
Oh then how her old bones would shake!
You would have said, if you had met her,
'Twas a hard time for Goody Blake.
Her evenings then were dull and dead:
Sad case it was, as you may think,
For very cold to go to bed;
And then for cold not sleep a wink.
O joy for her! whene'er in winter
The winds at night had made a rout;
And scattered many a lusty splinter
And many a rotten bough about.
Yet never had she, well or sick,
As every man who knew her says,
A pile beforehand, turf or stick,
Enough to warm her for three days.
Now, when the frost was past enduring,
And made her poor old bones to ache,
Could any thing be more alluring
Than an old hedge to Goody Blake?
And, now and then, it must be said,
When her old bones were cold and chill,
She left her fire, or left her bed,
To seek the hedge of Harry Gill.
Now Harry he had long suspected
This trespass of old Goody Blake;
And vowed that she should be detected--
That he on her would vengeance take.
And oft from his warm fire he'd go,
And to the fields his road would take;
And there, at night, in frost and snow,
He watched to seize old Goody Blake.
And once, behind a rick of barley,
Thus looking out did Harry stand:
The moon was full and shining clearly,
And crisp with frost the stubble land.
--He hears a noise--he's all awake--
Again?--on tip-toe down the hill
He softly creeps--'tis Goody Blake;
She's at the hedge of Harry Gill!
Right glad was he when he beheld her:
Stick after stick did Goody pull:
He stood behind a bush of elder,
Till she had filled her apron full.
When with her load she turned about,
The by-way back again to take;
He started forward, with a shout,
And sprang upon poor Goody Blake.
And fiercely by the arm he took her,
And by the arm he held her fast,
And fiercely by the arm he shook her,
And cried, "I've caught you then at last!"--
Then Goody, who had nothing said,
Her bundle from her lap let fall;
And, kneeling on the sticks, she prayed
To God that is the judge of all.
She prayed, her withered hand uprearing,
While Harry held her by the arm--
"God! who art never out of hearing,
O may he never more be warm!" 0
The cold, cold moon above her head,
Thus on her knees did Goody pray;
Young Harry heard what she had said:
And icy cold he turned away.
He went complaining all the morrow
That he was cold and very chill:
His face was gloom, his heart was sorrow,
Alas! that day for Harry Gill!
That day he wore a riding-coat,
But not a whit the warmer he:
Another was on Thursday brought,
And ere the Sabbath he had three.
'Twas all in vain, a useless matter,
And blankets were about him pinned;
Yet still his jaws and teeth they clatter;
Like a loose casement in the wind.
And Harry's flesh it fell away;
And all who see him say, 'tis plain,
That, live as long as live he may,
He never will be warm again.
No word to any man he utters,
A-bed or up, to young or old;
But ever to himself he mutters,
"Poor Harry Gill is very cold."
A-bed or up, by night or day;
His teeth they chatter, chatter still.
Now think, ye farmers all, I pray,
Of Goody Blake and Harry Gill!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Poor old Harry!
Harry looked in his mirror
and he didn't like what he saw
his hair was thin and Grey
in fact he didn't have a lot anymore.
Although he was now in his fifties
he wanted to appear trendy and young
so when he noticed his thinning locks
it upset him because he was highly strung.
So he decided to change his look
and he went and bought himself a wig
Harry began to dress like a teenager
and pumped Iron to build muscle real big.
His wife thought that he'd gone mad
or he was having a secret affair
but Harry thought he looked great
especially with his new dark hair.
He felt like a young man again
as he danced at the disco every Saturday
but one night he slipped a disc in his back
and a strong wind blew his toupee away.
So no longer could he lift any heavy weights
and he couldn't afford another costly wig
then all that muscle turned to fat
and he grew large and very big.
So Harry decided to just age naturally
but alas things didn't go according to plan
sadly his wife had her own mid-life crisis
and she ran off with a much younger man!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Never saw it coming
so i thought me and you had something special and real
I was so happy with you and loved how you made me feel
when we texted or imed each other my heart jumped and my face grew a smile
when we flirted i felt erotic dangerous and wild
I talked to you when i had a bad day or was in tears
You helped me to laugh and forget my fears
I thought of you throughout the day and reminisced
but i never thought it would come to this
I thought you were different and thought you'd stay that way
but then you told me you found someone and i cried all night and day
you hurt me and i didn't think it was possible
You had made me feel alive and unstoppable
But then you froze me in my tracks
Causing me inside to collapse
you seem to have forgotten about me
and for that reason i am no longer happy
You showed me that love for me does not exist
You showed me true fakeness
You pulled me in and told me sweet nothings so i would stay
Then when i got close enough you instantly threw me away
i know i will move on and find someone new
but i know i'll never forget you
I thought we could eventually would be together and brighten eachothers lives
Now when i think of you my heart feels like its being punctured by a thousand knives
I hope you are happy and find your someone
I hope that in life you go on
You hurt me but i still wish you happiness in life
for at a point in time you made me feel happy to be alive
poem by Jean Pullman
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Body Of God!
forgive me, i erred,
i thought God contained
in the wind.... but twas
only one breath of infinity!
i thought i saw God
in the starving child's eyes,
but twas only one heartbeat
of compassion!
i thought i heard God
in the cries of the dying
on the battlefields of greed...
but twas human despair!
i thought i found God
down in the homeless shelter,
but twas only the faces
of my brothers and sisters!
so i walked away,
thinking God didnt care....
then a voice startled me...
'but you're my body! '
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Back In Time
Last night; I went back in time
To see my wife if we never had met
I saw my ways, and my upcoming days
And my soul, was full of regret.
She wasn't there, but was in my prayer
As I surveyed the new life that I lived
And I walked alone, in my empty home
As my love for her I couldn't give.
I looked for her, and she couldn't be found
Last night when I went back in time,
So I searched her world, left nothing unfurled
But for her, nothing about her could I find.
So without me she took another path
Because then we had never met
But I stayed on that road, until I died old
Because no other woman in my heart would I let.
Then I had my thought when I awoke from my dream
And my woman she couldn't be found
So I closed my eyes and I sat down to cry
As my world was flipped upside down.
I remember now that she had left me
To be in the arms of another man
She was my love my life, my woman my wife
Now she's holding another mans heart and hand.
Why she left me; GOD will only know
But the love I felt once will never be mine,
I did nothing wrong, just loved her to strong,
Now again I wish, to go back in time.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Harry the Wu
What can I do, Harry the Wu,
A policeman will come
And ask questions of you,
He'll pull out his book
And his pencil, too,
And look very sternly
At Harry the Wu.
Oh, Harry the Wu, what did you do,
While I was in bed
Going down with the flu,
I didn't get up until
Half past two,
And you're so impatient,
Harry the Wu.
I knew there was something that
I had to do,
I had to get up and feed
Harry the Wu,
That bowl in the fridge of
The left-over stew
Was meant for your dinner,
Harry the Wu.
Oh what can I do, Harry the Wu,
They'll probably lock you
Away in the zoo,
And then you will miss me
And I'll miss you too,
Life is a tragedy,
Harry the Wu.
I thought that you knew,
Harry the Wu,
That there are some things
You are not meant to do,
Now all that is left is
The Postman's shoe,
His hat and his bag
You have eaten them too.
What can I do, Harry the Wu,
You've ripped off the policeman's
Trousers, too,
You'd better go hide in
The chimney flu,
Stop wagging your tail at me
Harry the Wu.
13 April 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget
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The Thought
Into the skies, one summer's day,
I sent a little Thought away;
Up to where, in the blue round,
The sun sat shining without sound.
Then my Thought came back to me.—
Little Thought, what did you see
In the regions whence you come?
And when I spoke, my Thought was dumb.
But she breathed of what was there,
In the pure bright upper air;
And, because my Thought so shone,
I knew she had been shone upon.
Next, by night a Thought I sent
Up into the firmament;
When the eager stars were out,
And the still moon shone about.
And my Thought went past the moon
In between the stars, but soon
Held her breath and durst not stir,
For the fear that covered her;
Then she thought, in this demur:
'Dare I look beneath the shade,
Into where the worlds are made;
Where the suns and stars are wrought?
Shall I meet another Thought?
'Will that other Thought have wings?
Shall I meet strange, heavenly things?
Thought of Thoughts, and Light of Lights,
Breath of Breaths, and Night of Nights?'
Then my Thought began to hark
In the illuminated dark,
Till the silence, over, under,
Made her heart beat more than thunder.
And my Thought, came trembling back,
But with something on her track,
And with something at her side;
Nor till she has lived and died,
Lived and died, and lived again,
Will that awful thing seem plain.
poem by William Brighty Rands
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I Had No Need
I had no need to be awake.
'Twas better in my bed.
The thought of facing life without him
was a thought better dead.
I had no need to open my eyes.
'Twas better not to see.
The thought of seeing the sun without him
was devastating to me.
I had no need to know the time.
'Twas better that time slip away.
The thought of time lingering now
is endless time each day.
There are no needs that now are mine.
'Twas a time I had them all.
We woke, we saw and knew the time,
now too hurtful to recall.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Battling Days
So, sit you down in a straight-backed chair, with your pipe and your wife content,
And cross your knees with your wisest air, and preach of the ‘days mis-spent;’
Grown fat and moral apace, old man! you prate of the change ‘since then’—
In spite of all, I’d as lief be back in those hard old days again.
They were hard old days; they were battling days; they were cruel at times—but then,
In spite of all, I would rather be back in those hard old days again.
The land was barren to sow wild oats in the days when we sowed our own—
(’Twas little we thought or our friends believed that ours would ever be sown)
But the wild oats wave on their stormy path, and they speak of the hearts of men—
I would sow a crop if I had my time in those hard old days again.
We travel first, or we go saloon—on the planned-out trips we go,
With those who are neither rich nor poor, and we find that the life is slow;
It’s ‘a pleasant trip’ where they cried, ‘Good luck!’ There was fun in the steerage then—
In spite of all, I would fain be back in those vagabond days again.
On Saturday night we’ve a pound to spare—a pound for a trip down town—
We took more joy in those hard old days for a hardly spared half-crown;
We took more pride in the pants we patched than the suits we have had since then—
In spite of all, I would rather be back in those comical days again.
’Twas We and the World—and the rest go hang—as the Outside tracks we trod;
Each thought of himself as a man and mate, and not as a martyred god;
The world goes wrong when your heart is strong—and this is the way with men—
The world goes right when your liver is white, and you preach of the change ‘since then.’
They were hard old days; they were battling days; they were cruel times—but then,
In spite of all, we shall live to-night in those hard old days again.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Sometimes I Cry
Sometimes I cry deep in the night
Difficult somedays just to get by
Tears are a message from God within
That we all yearn for a Heavenly blessing
Sometimes I cry, sometimes I laugh
A heart bleeds, when pushed too far
A listening ear, someone to confide
Goes a long way when you need a guide
Sometimes I cry deep in the haze
Awash with sunlight to brighten my days
They say to cry lessens the load
Unburdens the weight as you walk the road
This life goes by in a blink of an eye
Enjoy, I try and...sometimes I cry
poem by Kevin John
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I Was On Cross Road!
Strange I am,
I think different,
Whatever things,
I like not,
liked by others,
whatever I like,
Not liked by others!
I opened my heart,
Others then felt bad.
Open heart of them,
Looked ugly to me!
Whenever I laugh,
They felt as cough,
But for my every cough,
They enjoyed their laugh,
My every tears
they enjoyed,
My enjoyment,
Made them hard.
I loved life and them,
They live forgetting love!
So I was at cross road,
What to do and
what not to do!
I stood where,
Four roads met,
Life -was my pet
How can I set?
One road lead to town
Another to mountain,
Third one to forest,
Fourth, where dead rest!
A piece of rope,
Or loss of hope,
I stood at by a yard,
Away from road to graveyard!
I thought of solitude
haunting in multitude,
I stood at road to forest,
Where I may get some rest
Looked at the mountain,
I thought my life can sustain,
like that lonely mountain
it became inspiring fountain!
I took the way to town,
Removed masks of clown,
I stood there as lovely tree,
I kicked off idea of other three!
I built a house by side of the road,
My mind became clean and broad,
I gazed at passers on street,
My thought really is treat,
Fed of pains and sorrow,
Shed off all thoughts narrow,
Fed birds and animals and men,
Started using book and pen!
I felt solitude everywhere
And carried to anywhere,
Worked like a horse or ox
Removed all that were hoax!
No pain, no strain, no stain of guilt!
Life full of rain and green
Life full of love and compassion
Happiness and bliss I felt!
Alone in company of all;
With all, when I am alone
Escaped the great fall
Gained lost paradise on own!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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