The Bards Who Lived at Manly
The camp of high-class spielers,
Who sneered in summer dress,
And doo-dah dilettante,
And scornful “venuses”—
House agents, and storekeepers,
All eager they to “bleed”—
The bards who tackled Manly,
Were plucky bards indeed!
With shops that feared to trust them,
And pubs that looked askance;
And prigs who read their verses,
But gave them not a glance;—
When all were vain and selfish,
And editors were hard—
The bard that stuck to Manly
Was sure a mighty bard.
What mattered floors were barren,
And windows curtainless,
And our life seemed to others
But blackguard recklessness?
We wore our clothes for comfort,
We earned our bread alway,
And beer and good tobacco
Came somehow every day.
Came kindred souls to Manly—
Outsiders that we knew,
And with them scribes and artists,
And low comedians too;
And sometimes bright girl writers—
Called “Tommy”, “Jack”, or “Pat”—
(Though each one had a sweetheart
The rest knew nought of that).
’Twas not the paltry village
We honoured unaware,
Or welcome warm, or friendship,
Or “tone” that took us there;
We longed to sing for mankind,
Where heaven’s breath was free
We only sought the grandeur
Of sea-cliff, sands and sea.
And we were glad at Manly,
All unaware of “swells”,
Of doctors and of nurses,
And private hospitals;
With little fear of bailiffs,
And great contempt for greed—
The bards who lived at Manly,
They were a healthy breed.
Oh! moonlit nights at Manly,
When all the world was fair!
In shirts and turned-up trousers
We larked like big boys there.
Oh! glorious autumn mornings—
The gold and green and blue—
We “stripped” as well as any,
And swam as strongly too.
The artist had a missus,
Who rather loved the wretch,
And so for days together
He’d stay at home and sketch.
And then—I fear ’twas only
When things were getting tight—
The bards would shun each other,
And hump themselves—and write.
When bailiffs came to Manly
They’d find no “sticks” to take,
We’d welcome them as brothers—
Their grimy hands we’d shake;
We’d send for beer in billies—
And straightway send for more—
And bailiff nights in Manly
Were merry nights of yore.
There are some things that landlords
And law can’t do at all:
They could not take the pictures
We painted on the wall;
They could not take the table—
The table was a door;
They could not take the bedsteads—
The beds were on the floor.
The door of some old stable—
We’d borrowed for a drink—
A page of rhymes and sketches,
And stained with beer and ink;
A dead hand drew the portraits—
And, say, should I be shamed,
To seek it out in Manly
And get the old door framed?
They left the masterpieces
The artist dreamed of long;
They could not take the gardens
From Victor Daley’s song;
They left his summer islands
And fairy ships at sea,
They could not take my mountains
And western plains from me.
One bailiff was our brother,
No better and no worse—
And, oh! the yarns he told us
To put in prose and verse,
And sorry we to lose him,
And sorry he to go—
(Oh! skeletons of Pott’s Point,
How many things we know)!
The very prince of laughter,
With brains and sympathy;
And with us on the last night
He spent his bailiff’s fee.
He banished Durkin’s gruffness,
He set my soul afloat,
And drew till day on Daley’s
Bright store of anecdote.
He said he’d stick to business—
Though he could well be free—
If but to save poor devils
From harder “bums” than he,
Now artist, bard and bailiff
Have left this vale of sin—
I trust, if they reach Heaven,
They’ll take that bailiff in.
The bards that lived in Manly
Have vanished one and one;
But do not think in Manly
Bohemian days are done.
They bled me white in Manly
When rich and tempest-tossed—
I’ll leave some bills in Manly
To pay for what I lost.
They’d grab and grind in Manly,
Then slander, sneer, and flout.
The shocked of moral Manly!
They starved my brothers out.
The miserable village,
Set in a scene so fair,
Were honester and cleaner
If some of us were there!
But one went with December—
These last lines seem to-night
Like some song I remember,
And not a song I write.
With vision strangely clearer
My old chums seem to be,
In death and absence, nearer
Than e’er they were to me.
Alone, and still not lonely—
When tears will not be shed—
I wish that I could only
Believe that they were dead.
With hardly curbed emotion,
I can’t but think, somehow,
In Manly by the ocean
They’re waiting for me now.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Love has no cause
Crooked lips stand not in the way,
Manly nose is too.
So are cashew apple breasts.
So are manly tone and thin plait.
As shy fruit, you never deterred.
As a forbidden apple you never bored.
Then which is the cause?
To find the cause, I am still in love.
17.02.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Word from the Bards
IT IS New Year’s Day and I rise to state that here on the Sydney side
The Bards have commenced to fill out of late and they’re showing their binjies with pride
They’re patting their binjies with pride, old man, and I want you to understand,
That a binjied bard is a bard indeed when he sings in the Southern Land,
Old chaps,
When he sings in the Southern Land.
For the Southern Land is the Poet’s Home, and over the world’s wide roam,
There was never till now a binjied bard that lived in a poet’s home, old man;
For the poet’s home was a hell on earth, and I want you to understand,
That it isn’t exactly a paradise down here in the Southern Land,
Old chap,
Down here in the Southern Land.
The Beer and the Bailiff were gone last night and the “temple” doorstep clean,
And our heads are clear and our hearts are light with wine from the Riverine—
With wine from the Riverine, old man, and I want you to understand
That Bard, Beer and Bailiff too long were kin down here in the Southern Land,
Old man,
Down here in the Southern Land.
It is not because of a larger fee, nor yet that the bards are free,
For the bards I know and the bards I see are married enough for three;
Are married enough for three, old man, and I want you to understand,
They’ve a right to be married enough for four, down here in the Southern Land,
My girl,
Down here in the Southern Land.
But I think it’s because a bird went round and twittered in ears of men
That bards have care and the world seems bare as seen from the rhyming den,
And twittered in ears of men, old chaps, and got folks to understand
That a poet is something more than a joke down here in the Southern Land,
Old man,
Down here in the Southern Land.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Company's Choice
And so it is that
From whence the dusk of slumber
Came, arose the palest thunder
In their eyes, once
Sane
Flushed of mortal strife
I lay with them
And bear my life
Without this manly
Disdain, which in social time
Grows upon the earth, branch and vine
Uprooting foundations,
Kindling frustrations,
Sinfully smiling gaping
Cracks
Whilst the manly heart
Attacks
In acceptable
Vain
So my bretherin of late
Resting, reside in our dirt
View me cast my fate,
View me drain your hurt
Irony lives my
Pleasure
In your frigid
Lung
For i find no
Treasure
In the words
That living men have sung
poem by Aven Black
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On The Photograph Of A Corps Commander
Ay, man is manly. Here you see
The warrior-carriage of the head,
And brave dilation of the frame;
And lighting all, the soul that led
In Spottsylvania's charge to victory,
Which justifies his fame.
A cheering picture. It is good
To look upon a Chief like this,
In whom the spirit moulds the form.
Here favoring Nature, oft remiss,
With eagle mien expressive has endued
A man to kindle strains that warm.
Trace back his lineage, and his sires,
Yeoman or noble, you shall find
Enrolled with men of Agincourt,
Heroes who shared great Harry's mind.
Down to us come the knightly Norman fires,
And front the Templars bore.
Nothing can lift the heart of man
Like manhood in a fellow-man.
The thought of heaven's great King afar
But humbles us--too weak to scan;
But manly greatness men can span,
And feel the bonds that draw.
poem by Herman Melville
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Sooner of later that which is now life shall be poetry, and every fair and manly trait shall add a richer strain to the song.
quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The way of heaven can be known and experienced through the heart.
quote by Manly P. Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Someday We Will All Be Free
Hang on to the world
as it spins around
just don't let the spin get you down
things are moving so fast
hold on tight and you will last
keep your selfrespect,
your manly pride
get yourself in gear
keep your stride
never mind your fears
brighter days will soon be here
Take it from me
someday we'll all be free. Yeah
Keep on walking tall,
hold your head up high.
lay your dreams right up to the sky
sing your greatest song
and you keep growing, growing on
Take it from me someday we'll all be free.
Just wait and see someday we'll all be free.
Take it from me someday we'll all be free. It won't be long.
song performed by by Alicia Keys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good fellowship and friendship are lasting, rational and manly pleasures.
quote by William Wycherley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The end of science is not to prove a theory, but to improve mankind.
quote by Manly Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come, for my part I will have only those glorious, manly pleasures of being very drunk, and very slovenly.
quote by William Wycherley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words are potent weapons for all causes, good or bad.
quote by Manly P. Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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From the Trees?
Under the trees sits ape
Over the bridge stands man
Where have you gone, brother?
I am manly, and you?
poem by Naveed Akram
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Some persons have lived manly or womanly lives, and they lack but one thing - open confession of the Lord Jesus Christ. Some men think that they must come to him in a certain way - that they must be stirred by emotion or something like that.
quote by Billy Sunday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Moderation is the secret of survival.
quote by Manly Hall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Will Carleton
In homely apparel one
Clothes farming songs, Will Carleton.
But they have a manly ring,
And we his praises hearty sing.
poem by James McIntyre
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Glorified G
Got a gun, fact I got two
Thats o.k. man, cuz I love god
Glorified version of a pellet gun
Feels so manly, when armed
Glorified version of a pellet gun (4x)
Double think, dumb is strength
Never shot at a living thing
Glorified version of a pellet gun
Feels so manly, when armed
Glorified version of a pellet gun (3x)
Glorified version of a...
Always keep it loaded (3x)
Kindred to be an american...
Life comes...i can feel your heart...
Ooh...life comes...i can feel your heart through your neck...
Life comes...i can feel your heart through your neck...
Like some...i can steal your heart form your neck...
Glorified...glorified...
song performed by by Pearl Jam
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not to feel one's misfortunes is not human, not to bear them in not manly.
A little less complaint and whining, and a little more dogged work and manly striving, would do us more credit than a thousand civil rights bills.
quote by W.E.B. Du Bois
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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New Year
The New Year dawns again upon the earth,
And all our land re-echoes with its mirth.
From east to west, from north to south, we hear
The sounds of merriment and goodly cheer-
With feast and revelry, with dance and song,
The golden hours slip happily along,
And eyes are bright, and hearts are blithe and gay,
And all seems well upon this New Year Day.
Alas! alas! all is not well; for, oh!
White hands will plant the seeds of sin and woe-
Fair maids, with smiles and glances half divine,
Will lift the muddy glass of poison wine
To manly lips, and plead of them to quaff,
And loud will grow the careless jest and laugh;
And firm resolves, that gird up manly hearts
To brave the devil and withstand his arts,
Will fail before these fiends in forms so sweet,
And they will drain the glass and think it meet.
O shame too deep for tongue or pen to tell!
That woman opens wide the door of hell
For man to enter-woman, who should be
As true as truth and pure as purity.
But when they pass the drunkard in the street,
They lift their robes, lest they shall touch his feet,
And turn from him with scornful eye and lip,
Forgetting that perchance some maiden bade him sip-
Bade him with thrilling glance and tender tone,
Until the deadly habit, mighty grown,
Had mastered all his manhood, and he fell
Lower and lower to the depths of hell.
Go shout aloud fair woman's shame, O wind!
Tell it to nature, and to all mankind,
To hill and vale, and every forest tree,
To bird and beast, and to the mighty sea;
And let them all unite and sing her shame,
Until, with streaming eyes and cheeks aflame,
She makes a vow, and calls on God to hear,
That evermore her record shall be clear,
And she, with all her strength, will strive to save
Instead of aiding to the drunkard's grave.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Obedience to lawful authority is the foundation of manly character.
quote by Robert E. Lee
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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