Even when someone battles hard, there is an equal portion for one who lingers behind, and in the same honor are held both the coward and the brave man; the idle man and he who has done much meet death alike.
Related quotes
Just One More Dead Hero
So much about his courage we have heard of and read
So sad about the brave man so sad to hear he's dead
A decorated soldier from a war far away
The Reaper claimed the life from him suppose he had his day
One the nationalists and patriots used to celebrate
But with the coward and the traitor he shared a common fate
Not one to respect money or bravery or fame
To the Reaper the life of the coward and the hero are equal and the same
Though memories of the man he was will take some time to fade
Next year he won't be around to march in the war veterans parade
Ninety two when he died his best days long gone
Just one more dead hero and life does go on
The coward and the hero and those of wealth and fame
Are made equal by the Reaper he treats them as the same.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Hero Of Heroes
Let others write of battles fought,
Of bloody' ghastly fields,
Where honor greets the man who wins,
And death the man who yields;
But I will of him who fights
And vanquishes his sins,
Who struggles on through weary years
Against himself, and wins.
He is a hero staunch and brave
Who fights an unseen foe,
And puts at last beneath his feet
His passions base and low;
Who stands erect in manhood's might,
Undaunted, undismayed, -
The bravest man who drew a sword
In shumble foray or in raid.
It calls for something more than brawn
Or muscle to o'ercome
An enemy who marcheth not
With banner, plume, or drum, -
A foe forever lurking nigh,
With silent, stealthy tread;
Forever near your board by day,
At night beside your head.
All honor, then, to that brave heart,
Though poor or rich he be,
Who struggles with his baser part, -
Who conquers and is free!
He may not wear a hero's crown,
Or fill a hero's grave;
But truth will place his name
Among the bravest of the brave.
poem by Redscar McOdindo K'Oyuga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If success attends my steps, honor and glory await my name-if defeat, still shall it be said we died like brave men, and conferred honor, even in death, on the American Name.
quote by Zebulon Pike
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Ballad Of Jesse James
Jesse james was a man
And he killed many men
He robbed the glendale train
And he took from the richer
And he gave that to the poorer
Hed a hand and a heart and a brain
Oh jesse had a wife to mourn for his life
Three children they were so brave
But that dirty little coward
That shot mr. howard
Has laid jesse james in his grave
(instrumental)
On wednesday night
When the moon was shining bright
They robbed that glendale train
And the folks from miles about (yeah they can)
They all said without a doubt
It was done by her frankie and jesse james (yes it was)
Oh jessie had a wife, to mourn for his life
Three children they were so brave
But that dirty little coward
That shot mr. howard
Has laid (poor) jesse james in his grave
(instrumental)
Well the people held their breath
When they heard about jesses death (yeah)
And they wondered how poor jesse came to die (how did he die? )
It was one of his guys, called little robert ford
And he shot jessie james on the sly
Oh jessie had a wife to mourn for his life
Three children they were so brave
But that dirty little coward
That shot mr. howard
Has laid jesse james in his grave
Has laid poor jesse in his grave
He laid jesse james in his grave
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
My Grandfather – I
Oh how I miss him
A man of wisdom
His stories I heard
With the mind of a child
And the love of a grandson
Our fishing trips
Vacations in Boston
Baseball in the backyard
Football on the weekends
When I was older we talked
Spoke of his younger days
Spoke of my days to come
From grandfather to grandson
Yet days he did not speak of
Days of death and days of war
Battles on the beaches of the pacific
Battles of the Second World War
Fighting for our freedom
Fighting for those who live today
Not for honor or glory or power
But for the blessings of liberty
A man of wisdom
A man of honor
Oh how I miss him
My Grandfather
poem by Robert Crook
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The coward sneaks to death; the brave live on.
quote by George Sewell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Brave Fear
A fear that dispels all other fears
A fear that conquers all other fears
A fear that elevates
A fear that sustains
The brave fear
To have it is to fear
To maintain it is to obey
To fear the Creator
To obey His majesty
The brave fear
A fear that defeats that of death
A fear that is from God’s providence
A fear that imparts confidence
A fear that imparts mirth
The brave fear
This fear from the Lord comes
This fear to the Lord directs
All your being and resources
All your future in His hands it places
The brave fear
Fear this fear not
Possess this fear
Buy this fair fear
With all your fair lot
The brave fear
To buy this fear
Wise is to grow
Security you bear
Your life to reach the brow
The brave fear
The brow of living
In eternity peacefully
The brow of being
What God created you to be fully
The brave fear
The brave fear is this
That all other fears you may have
Exchange them with this
That Christ is there you to save
From all other coward fears
poem by Obed Akuma
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It is vain for the coward to flee; death follows close behind; it is only by defying it that the brave escape.
Meet My Despair
Meet my despair,
She doesn't even show signs of care.
She knows she'll be my destruction,
That's the meaning behind her construction.
Meet my despair,
You can taste the foul death in the air.
She smirks at the cause of my untimly death,
It makes her lose her frigid breath.
Meet my despair,
She's my burden to bear.
She'll dance on my grave,
Ah, she's so brave.
Meet my despair,
her name's.357 magnum.
She's truly lovely.
She's truly mine,
My despair.
poem by Steven Elsner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wall of Tears
I've tried to talk about the nights
That I call... Just incredibly bad...
But every time... they feel as if...
I'm going stark ravening mad...
I held my buddy's hands.
As he breathed... His dying breathe...
Shaking... and
Scared to death...
It was like mosquito death!
Never had so much fear...
Anger...Blood...
And Strife...
Complete helpless-ness...as my buddy
Lost his life
Oh Please...God...
God...Won't you help him too?
But when you're in that Dark Hell!
Not even God...Can guide you!
It's hard today to live as one man...
I doubt... Anyone will ever understand!
He pleaded... Don't leave me behind!
That night...souls... tears... combined!
I didn't...
But as Jimmy lost his soul and died...
He died...
So did mine...
P.S.
I know...I know...It's hard to believe
It's been forty some years
But I cried so hard...
When when I read your name...
On that Wall Of Tears
And Jimmy... I'm trying hard to win!
So that God...Will let us meet again!
P.P.S.
That tin star that they gave!
Claiming I was so very brave...
I took it.. to Shoshone... and there...
I tossed it...into the Falls
Clinching that safety fence...
Just struggling... trying... to stand tall!
So I go there often to enjoy the view...
With those endless tears in my eyes...
Everyday...
I've remembered you...
Clyde Grant Bryson
poem by Clyde Bryson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Right to Die
I have no fancy for that ancient cant
That makes us masters of our destinies,
And not our lives, to hold or give them up
As will directs; I cannot, will not think
That men, the subtle worms, who plot and plan
And scheme and calculate with such shrewd wit,
Are such great blund'ring fools as not to know
When they have lived enough.
Men court not death
When there are sweets still left in life to taste.
Nor will a brave man choose to live when he,
Full deeply drunk of life, has reached the dregs,
And knows that now but bitterness remains.
He is the coward who, outfaced in this,
Fears the false goblins of another life.
I honor him who being much harassed
Drinks of sweet courage until drunk of it,-
Then seizing Death, reluctant, by the hand,
Leaps with him, fearless, to eternal peace!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Be (Love Poem)
Sometimes it’s hard to be apart
Sometimes it’s hard to be brave
Sometimes it’s hard to be cold
Sometimes it’s hard to be daring
Sometimes it’s hard to be early
Sometimes it’s hard to be friends
Sometimes it’s hard to be good
Sometimes it’s hard to be happy
Sometimes it’s hard to be in-love
Sometimes it’s hard to be just
Sometimes it’s hard to be kind
Sometimes it’s hard to be lovely
Sometimes it’s hard to be mellow
Sometimes it’s hard to be nasty
Sometimes it’s hard to be out
Sometimes it’s hard to be poor
Sometimes it’s hard to be quiet
Sometimes it’s hard to be ready
Sometimes it’s hard to be simple
Sometimes it’s hard to be together
poem by Ian Beckett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
All fingers are not alike, If you cut bigger ones to make all equal it is communism, If you stretch smaller ones to make all equal it is socialism, If you do nothing to make all equal it is capitalism.
quote by B.J. Gupta
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian
Charles Sumner. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fourth)
Garlands upon his grave
And flowers upon his hearse,
And to the tender heart and brave
The tribute of this verse.
His was the troubled life,
The conflict and the pain,
The grief, the bitterness of strife,
The honor without stain.
Like Winkelried, he took
Into his manly breast
The sheaf of hostile spears, and broke
A path for the oppressed.
Then from the fatal field
Upon a nation's heart
Borne like a warrior on his shield!--
So should the brave depart.
Death takes us by surprise,
And stays our hurrying feet;
The great design unfinished lies,
Our lives are incomplete.
But in the dark unknown
Perfect their circles seem,
Even as a bridge's arch of stone
Is rounded in the stream.
Alike are life and death,
When life in death survives,
And the uninterrupted breath
Inspires a thousand lives.
Were a star quenched on high,
For ages would its light,
Still travelling downward from the sky,
Shine on our mortal sight.
So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken,
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Score
Because I've come to eighty odd,
I must prepare to meet you, God.
What should I do? I cannot pray,
I have no pious words to say;
And though the Bible I might read,
Scriptures don't meet my need.
Please tell me God what can I do
To be acceptable to you?
I've put in order my affairs,
And left their portion to my heirs;
And what remains I've willed to be
A gift to Charity.
What must I do? I cannot kneel,
Although a sense of you I feel,
I will not show a coward's fear,
Waiting until the end be near
To pester you with mercy plea,
--You'd be despising me.
I hope I have been kind and true;
I've helped to happiness a few.
I've made a mother's eye to smile,
I've played with little ones a while.
I do not know what is the score;
Of good I might have done much more:
But now I guess my exit's due;--
Dear God, it's up to You!
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
It is not enough to render things equal to the will, that they are equal or alike in themselves.
quote by Anthony Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
We Must Be Thinking Alike
So many nights we didn't fight but never talked much
We just lost touch
I think we knew our dream come true was slowly dying
No denying
Now comes the time we must decide to go or stay
To get it back somehow or throw it all away
We must be thinking alike
You never held me so tight
We must be finally doing something right
I'm not about to give in
This is a fight we can win and after all this time
We must be thinking alike
Let's just stay home
I'll get a pizza and a movie we both wanna see
And later on who knows what we'll find to agree on
It's been so long
Dim down the lights, turn off the phone and the TV
I can tell the way you're smiling back at me that
We must be thinking alike
You never held me so tight
We must be finally doing something right
I'm not about to give in
This is a fight we can win and after all this time
We must be thinking alike
We must be thinking alike
Holding aech other so tight
We must be finally doing something right
I'm not about to give in
This is a fight we can win and after all this time
We must be thinking alike
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Obligation Of Remembrance
Champions of freedom, each and every one;
We solemnly remember thee, for all the battles you have won,
With valor, honor, and wholly selfless dedication;
You served served God, and a country in need of your protection,
From those who sought our liberty's end;
Without regard for your own life, you stood to defend
The very precepts that make our country great!
When the call to arms came, you did not hesitate
To stand, and be counted, amongst a very select few;
Freedom is not free-its price was paid by men and women, like you!
On behalf of a grateful nation, with an obligation of remembrance,
Thank you for your sacrifice-I know this fails, as recompense,
Yet, it is all that I now possess, to bestow,
Upon so many brave souls, I had not, the honor, to know!
poem by Maurice Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
If 1 And 2 Were Equal
If 1 and 2 were equal
we'd have as many hearts as fists
If 1 and 2 were equal
we'd have confused shopping lists
If 1 and 2 were equal
there'd be less phone numbers to dial
If 1 and 2 were equal
noon would surely last a while
If 1 and 2 were equal
there'd be a nose under each eye
If 1 and 2 were equal
you couldn't say no to 'you and I? '
If 1 and 2 were equal
I think I'd be much more happy
'cause if 1 and 2 were equal
I would not be so lonely
poem by John W. McEwers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Howard At Atlanta
RIGHT in the track where Sherman
Ploughed his red furrow,
Out of the narrow cabin,
Up from the cellar's burrow,
Gathered the little black people,
With freedom newly dowered,
Where, beside their Northern teacher,
Stood the soldier, Howard.
He listened and heard the children
Of the poor and long-enslavëd
Reading the words of Jesus,
Singing the songs of David.
Behold! —the dumb lips speaking,
The blind eyes seeing!
Bones of the Prophet's vision
Warmed into being!
Transformed he saw them passing
Their new life's portal!
Almost it seemed the mortal
Put on the immortal.
No more with the beasts of burden,
No more with stone and clod,
But crowned with glory and honor
In the image of God!
There was the human chattel
Its manhood taking;
There, in each dark, brown statue,
A soul was waking!
The man of many battles,
With tears his eyelids pressing,
Stretched over those dusky foreheads
His one-armed blessing.
And he said: 'Who hears can never
Fear for or doubt you;
What shall I tell the children
Up North about you?'
Then ran round a whisper, a murmur,
Some answer devising;
And a little boy stood up: 'General,
Tell'em we're rising!'
O black boy of Atlanta!
But half was spoken:
The slave's chain and the master's
Alike are broken.
The one curse of the races
Held both in tether:
They are rising, — all are rising,
The black and white together!
O brave men and fair women!
Ill comes of hate and scorning:
Shall the dark faces only
Be turned to morning? —
Make Time your sole avenger,
All-healing, all-redressing;
Meet Fate half-way, and make it
A joy and blessing!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!