The Children's Hour
Between the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day's occupation,
That is know as the children's hour.
I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.
From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.
A whisper and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes,
They are plotting and planning together,
To take me by surprise.
A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!
They climb up into my turret
O'er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me,
They seem to be everywhere.
They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!
Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all?
I have you fast in my fortress
And will not let you depart,
But put you down in the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.
And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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God's Judgment on a Wicked Bishop
The summer and autumn had been so wet,
That in winter the corn was growing yet,
'Twas a piteous sight to see all around
The grain lie rotting on the ground.
Every day the starving poor
Crowded around Bishop Hatto's door,
For he had a plentiful last-year's store,
And all the neighbourhood could tell
His granaries were furnish'd well.
At last Bishop Hatto appointed a day
To quiet the poor without delay;
He bade them to his great Barn repair,
And they should have food for the winter there.
Rejoiced such tidings good to hear,
The poor folk flock'd from far and near;
The great barn was full as it could hold
Of women and children, and young and old.
Then when he saw it could hold no more,
Bishop Hatto he made fast the door;
And while for mercy on Christ they call,
He set fire to the Barn and burnt them all.
"I'faith 'tis an excellent bonfire!" quoth he,
"And the country is greatly obliged to me,
For ridding it in these times forlorn
Of Rats that only consume the corn."
So then to his palace returned he,
And he sat down to supper merrily,
And he slept that night like an innocent man;
But Bishop Hatto never slept again.
In the morning as he enter'd the hall
Where his picture hung against the wall,
A sweat like death all over him came,
For the Rats had eaten it out of the frame.
As he look'd there came a man from his farm--
He had a countenance white with alarm;
"My Lord, I open'd your granaries this morn,
And the Rats had eaten all your corn."
Another came running presently,
And he was pale as pale could be,
"Fly! my Lord Bishop, fly," quoth he,
"Ten thousand Rats are coming this way,...
The Lord forgive you for yesterday!"
"I'll go to my tower on the Rhine," replied he,
"'Tis the safest place in Germany;
The walls are high and the shores are steep,
And the stream is strong and the water deep."
Bishop Hatto fearfully hasten'd away,
And he crost the Rhine without delay,
And reach'd his tower, and barr'd with care
All the windows, doors, and loop-holes there.
He laid him down and closed his eyes;...
But soon a scream made him arise,
He started and saw two eyes of flame
On his pillow from whence the screaming came.
He listen'd and look'd;... it was only the Cat;
And the Bishop he grew more fearful for that,
For she sat screaming, mad with fear
At the Army of Rats that were drawing near.
For they have swum over the river so deep,
And they have climb'd the shores so steep,
And up the Tower their way is bent,
To do the work for which they were sent.
They are not to be told by the dozen or score,
By thousands they come, and by myriads and more,
Such numbers had never been heard of before,
Such a judgment had never been witness'd of yore.
Down on his knees the Bishop fell,
And faster and faster his beads did he tell,
As louder and louder drawing near
The gnawing of their teeth he could hear.
And in at the windows and in at the door,
And through the walls helter-skelter they pour,
And down from the ceiling and up through the floor,
From the right and the left, from behind and before,
From within and without, from above and below,
And all at once to the Bishop they go.
They have whetted their teeth against the stones,
And now they pick the Bishop's bones:
They gnaw'd the flesh from every limb,
For they were sent to do judgment on him!
poem by Robert Southey
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Lost In The Mist
THE thin white snow-streaks pencilling
That mountain's shoulder gray,
While in the west the pale green sky
Smiled back the dawning day,
Till from the misty east the sun
Was of a sudden born
Like a new soul in Paradise--
How long it seems since morn!
One little hour, O round red sun,
And thou and I shall come
Unto the golden gate of rest,
The open door of home:
One little hour, O weary sun,
Delay the threatened eve
Till my tired feet that pleasant door
Enter and never leave.
Ye rooks that fly in slender file
Into the thick'ning gloom,
Ye'll scarce have reached your grim gray tower
Ere I have reached my home;
Plover, that thrills the solitude
With such an eerie cry,
Seek you your nest ere night-fall comes,
As my heart's nest seek I.
O light, light heart and heavy feet,
Patience a little while!
Keep the warm love-light in these eyes,
And on these lips the smile:
Out-speed the mist, the gathering mist
That follows o'er the moor!--
The darker grows the world without
The brighter seems that door.
O door, so close yet so far off;
O mist that nears and nears!
What, shall I faint in sight of home?
Blinded--but not with tears--
'T is but the mist, the cruel mist,
Which chills this heart of mine:
These eyes, too weak to see that light--
It has not ceased to shine.
A little further, further yet:
The white mist crawls and crawls;
It hems me around, it shuts me in
Its great sepulchral walls:
No earth--no sky--no path--no light--
A silence like the tomb:
O me, it is too soon to die--
And I was going home!
A little further, further yet:
My limbs are young,--my heart--
O heart, it is not only life
That feels it hard to part:
Poor lips, slow freezing into calm,
Numbed hands that helpless fall,
And, a mile off, warm lips, fond hands,
Waiting to welcome all!
I see the pictures in the room,
The figures moving round,
The very flicker of the fire
Upon the patterned ground:
O that I were the shepherd-dog
That guards their happy door!
Or even the silly household cat
That basks upon the floor!
O that I sat one minute's space
Where I have sat so long!
O that I heard one little word
Sweeter than angel's song!
A pause--and then the table fills,
The harmless mirth brims o'er;
While I--O can it be God's will?--
I die, outside the door.
My body fails--my desperate soul
Struggles before it go:
The bleak air's full of voices wild,
But not the voice I know;
Dim shapes come wandering through the dark:
With mocking, curious stares,
Faces long strange peer glimmering by--
But not one face of theirs.
Lost, lost, and such a little way
From that dear sheltering door!
Lost, lost, out of the loving arms
Left empty evermore!
His will be done. O, gate of heaven,
Fairer than earthly door,
Receive me! Everlasting arms,
Enfold me evermore!
And so, farewell * * * * *
What is this touch
Upon my closing eyes?
My name too, that I thought to hear
Next time in Paradise?
Warm arms--close lips--O, saved, saved, saved!
Across the deathly moor
Sought, found--and yonder through the night
Shineth the blessed door.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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Back Against The Wall
Can you see now where I stand, my friend?
Will you offer me your helping hand?
And will you cross the void and speak the words?
Rush, I'm beggin' you, it hurts
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts
I'm standing back against the wall
Dare I to move I got to fall
My heart is blinded by the light
I close my eyes forever
May not turn left, may not turn right
I sense a gap to every side
I'm standing back against the wall
Back against the wall
I can hear it coming closer now
Blaring silence of the dark below
Under my feet I feel it slide like sand
A frequent crushing down
Again, again, again and again
I'm standing back against the wall
Dare I to move I got to fall
My heart is blinded by the light
I close my eyes forever
May not turn left, may not turn right
I sense a gap to every side
I'm standing back against the wall
Back against the wall
Will you cross the void of pride?
Then speak the words
Rush, I'm beggin' you, it hurts
It hurts, it hurts, yes it hurts
I'm standing back against the wall
Dare I to move I got to fall
My heart is blinded by the light
I close my eyes forever
May not turn left, may not turn right
I sense a gap to every side
I'm standing back against the wall
Back against the wall
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Back In My Arms Again
They always said that hindsights twenty-twenty
And when it comes to mistakes in love girl Ive got plenty
But the one that sticks out the most in my mind
Is the night I left you standing on the front porch drying
Living for the day I could make it all up to you
Till youre back in my arms, back in my arms again
Till youre back in my arms Ill be old lonesome till then
And honey I wont eat and I wont even sleep
Ill be walking these toes off of both of my feet
Till youre back in my arms, back in my arms again
Well Im getting to know this old town like never before
Walking every street knocking on every door
Girl wherever you are I want you back
I love you baby and Im sure about that
What ever it takes theres nothing that I wont do
Till youre back in my arms, back in my arms again
Till youre back in my arms Ill be old lonesome till then
And honey I wont eat and I wont even sleep
Ill be walking these toes off of both of my feet
Till youlre back in my arms, back in my arms again
I must have been a fool I confess
To ever let you go but I aint gonna rest
Till youre back in my arms, back in my arms again
Till youre back in my arms Ill be old lonesome till then
And honey I wont eat and I wont even sleep
Ill be walking these toes off of both of my feet
Till youre back in my arms, back in my arms again
song performed by by Kenny Chesney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Beatrice Stuart--Wortley Ætat
Patter, patter, little feet,
Making music quaint and sweet,
Up the passage, down the stair;
Patter, patter everywhere.
Ripple, ripple, little voice;
When I hear you, I rejoice.
When you cease to crow and coo,
Then my heart grows silent too.
Frolic, frolic, little form,
While the day is young and warm.
When the shadows shun the west,
Climb up to my knee, and rest.
Slumber, slumber, little head,
Gambols o'er and night-prayers said.
I will give you in your cot
Kisses that awake you not.
Open, open, little lids!
Lambs are frisking in the meads;
Blackcaps flit from stem to stem;
Come and chirp along with them.
Change not, change not, little fay;
Still be as you are to-day.
What a loss is growth of sense,
With decrease of innocence!
Something in your little ways
Wins me more than love or praise.
You have gone, and I feel still
Void I somehow cannot fill.
Yes, you leave, when you depart,
Empty cradle in my heart,
Where I sit and rock my pain,
Singing lullaby in vain.
Come back, come back, little feet!
Bring again the music sweet
To the garden, to the stair;
Patter, chatter everywhere.
poem by Alfred Austin
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The Sea's Wash In The Hollow Of The Heart...
Turn from that road's beguiling ease; return
to your hunger's turret. Enter, climb the stair
chill with disuse, where the croaking toad of time
regards from shimmering eyes your slow ascent
and the drip, drip, of darkness glimmers on the stone
to show you how your longing waits alone.
What alchemy shines from under that shut door,
spinning out gold from the hollow of the heart?
Enter the turret of your love, and lie
close in the arms of the sea; let in new suns
that beat and echo in the mind like sounds
risen from sunken cities lost to fear;
let in the light that answers your desire
awakening at midnight with the fire,
until its magic burns the wavering sea
and flames carress the windows of your tower.
poem by Denise Levertov
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The Lost Kiss
I put by the half-written poem,
While the pen, idly trailed in my hand,
Writes on--, 'Had I words to complete it,
Who'd read it, or who'd understand?'
But the little bare feet on the stairway,
And the faint, smothered laugh in the hall,
And the eerie-low lisp on the silence,
Cry up to me over it all.
So I gather it up-- where was broken
The tear-faded thread of my theme,
Telling how, as one night I sat writing,
A fairy broke in on my dream,
A little inquisitive fairy--
My own little girl, with the gold
Of the sun in her hair, and the dewy
Blue eyes of the fairies of old.
'Twas the dear little girl that I scolded--
'For was it a moment like this,'
I said, 'when she knew I was busy,
To come romping in for a kiss--?
Come rowdying up from her mother,
And clamoring there at my knee
For 'One 'ittle kiss for my dolly,
And one 'ittle uzzer for me!'
God pity, the heart that repelled her,
And the cold hand that turned her away,
And take, from the lips that denied her,
This answerless prayer of to-day!
Take Lord, from my mem'ry forever
That pitiful sob of despair,
And the patter and trip of the little bare feet,
And the one piercing cry on the stair!
I put by the half-written poem,
While the pen, idly trailed in my hand
Writes on--, 'Had I words to complete it
Who'd read it, or who'd understand?'
But the little bare feet on the stairway,
And the faint, smothered laugh in the hall,
And the eerie-low lisp on the silence,
Cry up to me over it all.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Softly
Softly she comes
Whispers the breeze with her passing
In secret love she is laughing
Softly she comes in the night
Softly she sighs
Sweetly she lies never sleeping
Her fragrance all in my keeping
Softly she comes in the night
Down the darkened hall
I hear her footsteps on my stair
And she is in my arms once more
Then softly she goes
Her shining lips in the shadows
Whisper goodbye at my window
Softly she goes in the dawn
Down the darkened hall
I hear her footsteps on my stair
And she is in my arms once more
Then softly she goes
Her shining lips in the shadows
Whisper goodbye at my window
Softly she goes in the dawn
Softly she goes in the dawn
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Part 01: 04: Up high black walls, up sombre terraces
Up high black walls, up sombre terraces,
Clinging like luminous birds to the sides of cliffs,
The yellow lights went climbing towards the sky.
From high black walls, gleaming vaguely with rain,
Each yellow light looked down like a golden eye.
They trembled from coign to coign, and tower to tower,
Along high terraces quicker than dream they flew.
And some of them steadily glowed, and some soon vanished,
And some strange shadows threw.
And behind them all the ghosts of thoughts went moving,
Restlessly moving in each lamplit room,
From chair to mirror, from mirror to fire;
From some, the light was scarcely more than a gloom:
From some, a dazzling desire.
And there was one, beneath black eaves, who thought,
Combing with lifted arms her golden hair,
Of the lover who hurried towards her through the night;
And there was one who dreamed of a sudden death
As she blew out her light.
And there was one who turned from clamoring streets,
And walked in lamplit gardens among black trees,
And looked at the windy sky,
And thought with terror how stones and roots would freeze
And birds in the dead boughs cry . . .
And she hurried back, as snow fell, mixed with rain,
To mingle among the crowds again,
To jostle beneath blue lamps along the street;
And lost herself in the warm bright coiling dream,
With a sound of murmuring voices and shuffling feet.
And one, from his high bright window looking down
On luminous chasms that cleft the basalt town,
Hearing a sea-like murmur rise,
Desired to leave his dream, descend from the tower,
And drown in waves of shouts and laughter and cries.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Lullaby
Lullaby! Lullaby!
There’s a tower strong and high
Built of oak and brick and stone,
Stands before a wood alone.
The doors are of the oak so brown
As any ale in Oxford town,
The walls are builded warm and thick
Of the old red Roman brick,
The good grey stone is over all
In arch and floor of the tower tall.
And maidens three are living there
All in the upper chamber fair,
Hung with silver, hung with pall,
And stories painted on the wall.
And softly goes the whirring loom
In my ladies’ upper room,
For they shall spin both night and day
Until the stars do pass away.
But every night at evening.
The window open wide they fling,
And one of them says a word they know
And out as three white swans they go,
And the murmuring of the woods is drowned
In the soft wings’ whirring sound,
As they go flying round, around,
Singing in swans’ voices high
A lonely, lovely lullaby.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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Old Laughing Lady
Don't call pretty Peggy,
she can't hear you no more
Don't leave no message
'round her back door.
They say the old laughing lady
been here before
She don't keep time,
she don't count score.
You can't have a cupboard
if there ain't no wall.
You got to move there's
no time left to stall.
They say the old laughing lady
dropped by to call
And when she leaves,
she leaves nothing at all.
See the drunkard of the village
falling on the street.
Can't tell his ankles
from the rest of his feet.
He loves his old laughing lady
'cause her taste is so sweet.
But his laughing lady's loving
ain't the kind he can keep.
There's a fever on the freeway,
blacks out the night.
There's a slipping on the stairway,
just don't feel right
And there's a rumbling
in the bedroom
and a flashing of light
There's the old laughing lady,
everything is all right.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hole In My Wall
Through the hole in my wall,
I see into your head
a beggers day banquet
on a four poster bed
It's food for the eyes
drink for the soul
The hole in my wall
I can't let myself go
CHOURS
I'm spinning 'round and 'round
('round and 'round and 'round)
Don't let me down
(Ooh I groove) Through the hole in my wall
(Love the view) Through the hole in my wall
(Velvet Blue) through the hole in my wall
(I see you) through the hole in my wall
The hole in my wall, lets in the sound
Of bodies and sweat, and merry-go-rounds
The whole in my wall, is better than sex
An x-rated Disneyland, gooving T-Rex
CHORUS (2 X's)
Through the hole in my wall.
song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fire In The Sky
All alone in a sleepless night
Passing time with a runaway moon
talkin' to myself
Wishing I was somewhere else
It's been too long since I held you girl
Twice a thousand miles
But my heart won't beat alone
I need the love I left behind
Hold back the dawn awhile
This will all work out
Don't let this dream die
There's a fire in the sky
It's like the light in your eyes
Thinkin' of you
And I won't give up till your in my arms
Never give up till what's lost is found
Won't give up on your sweet, sweet love again
Now the night is dark with diamonds
And I'm standing inside the rain
Giving up your love
Was the worst mistake I made
There's a sound I hear in the distance
Seems it's calling out my name
Well I'll pay most any price
I just hope I'm not too late
Turn back the clock awhile
Things will all work out
That's what the dream is all about
There's a fire in the sky
It's like the light in your eyes
Oh, it's true
That I won't give up till your in my arms
Never give up till what's lost is found
Won't give up on your sweet, sweet love
Turn back the clock awhile
Things will all work out
That's what the dream is all about
I see a fire in the sky
Just like the light in your eyes
Thinkin' of you
That I won't give up till your in my arms
Never give up till what's lost is found
Won't give up on your sweet, sweet love
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wild Huntsman
Thy rest was deep at the slumberer's hour
If thou didst not hear the blast
Of the savage horn, from the mountain-tower,
As the Wild Night-Huntsman pass'd,
And the roar of the stormy chase went by,
Through the dark unquiet sky!
The stag sprung up from his mossy bed
When he caught the piercing sounds,
And the oak-boughs crash'd to his antler'd head
As he flew from the viewless hounds;
And the falcon soar'd from her craggy height,
Away through the rushing night!
The banner shook on its ancient hold,
And the pine in its desert-place,
As the cloud and tempest onward roll'd
With the din of the trampling race;
And the glens were fill'd with the laugh and shout,
And the bugle, ringing out!
From the chieftain's hand the wine-cup fell,
At the castle's festive board,
And a sudden pause came o'er the swell
Of the harp's triumphal chord;
And the Minnesinger's thrilling lay
In the hall died fast away.
The convent's chanted rite was stay'd,
And the hermit dropp'd his beads,
And a trembling ran through the forest-shade,
At the neigh of the phantom steeds,
And the church-bells peal'd to the rocking blast
As the Wild Night-Huntsman pass'd.
The storm hath swept with the chase away,
There is stillness in the sky,
But the mother looks on her son to-day,
With a troubled heart and eye,
And the maiden's brow hath a shade of care
Midst the gleam of her golden hair!
The Rhine flows bright, but its waves ere long
Must hear a voice of war,
And a clash of spears our hills among,
And a trumpet from afar;
And the brave on a bloody turf must lie,
For the Huntsman hath gone by!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Till You Opened My Eyes
This song was first released on the some days are diamonds album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Down, down, down deeper into love
All around, I can feel your love
All my life Ive been dreaming
Night into morning
Till you opened my eyes
Love, love, love such a mystery
Golden light shining down on me
Soft and warm as the warming
But I never saw it
Till you opened my eyes
Floating in circles, Im flying
It feels so good that Im crying
Down, down, down deep inside of me
Love sweet loves all that I can see
Golden light keeps on shining
Shining forever, since you opened my eyes
Words and music by alan rush, randy cullers and dennis linde
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Old Clock on the Stairs
Somewhat back from the village street
Stands the old-fashioned country-seat.
Across its antique portico
Tall poplar-trees their shadows throw;
And from its station in the hall
An ancient timepiece says to all, -
'Forever - never!
Never - forever!'
Half-way up the stairs it stands,
And points and beckons with its hands
From its case of massive oak,
Like a monk, who, under his cloak,
Crosses himself, and sighs, alas!
With sorrowful voice to all who pass, -
'Forever - never!
Never - forever!'
By day its voice is low and light;
But in the silent dead of night,
Distinct as a passing footstep's fall,
It echoes along the vacant hall,
Along the ceiling, along the floor,
And seems to say, at each chamber-door, -
'Forever - never!
Never - forever!'
Through days of sorrow and of mirth,
Through days of death and days of birth,
Through every swift vicissitude
Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood,
And as if, like God, it all things saw,
It calmly repeats those words of awe, -
'Forever - never!
Never - forever!'
In that mansion used to be
Free-hearted Hospitality;
His great fires up the chimney roared;
The stranger feasted at his board;
But, like the skeleton at the feast,
That warning timepiece never ceased, -
'Forever - never!
Never - forever!'
There groups of merry children played,
There youths and maidens dreaming strayed;
O precious hours! O golden prime,
And affluence of love and time!
Even as a miser counts his gold,
Those hours the ancient timepiece told, -
'Forever - never!
Never - forever!'
From that chamber, clothed in white,
The bride came forth on her wedding night;
There, in that silent room below,
The dead lay in his shroud of snow;
And in the hush that followed the prayer,
Was heard the old clock on the stair, -
'Forever - never!
Never - forever!'
All are scattered now and fled,
Some are married, some are dead;
And when I ask, with throbs of pain,
'Ah! when shall they all meet again?'
As in the days long since gone by,
The ancient timepiece makes reply, -
'Forever - never!
Never - forever!'
Never here, forever there,
Where all parting, pain, and care,
And death, and time shall disappear, -
Forever there, but never here!
The horologe of Eternity
Sayeth this incessantly, -
'Forever - never!
Never - forever!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Ben Boyd's Tower
Ben Boyd's Tower is watching—
Watching o’er the sea;
Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting
For her and me.
We do not know the day,
We do not know the hour,
But we know that we shall meet
By Ben Boyd’s Tower.
Moonlight peoples Boyd Tower,
Mystic are its walls;
Lightly dance the lovers
In its haunted halls.
Ben Boyd’s Tower is watching—
Watching o’er the foam;
Ben Boyd’s Tower is waiting
Till the “Wanderer” comes home.
O! he lay above us—
High above the surf—
Finger-nails and toe-caps
Digging in the turf.
We do not know the day,
We do not know the hour,
But Two and Two shall meet again
By Ben Boyd’s Tower.
There’s an ancient dame in Eden—
Basket on her arm—
And she goes down the Main Street
From the old, old farm.
Hood drawn on her forehead—
Withered dame and grey—
She never looks on Boyd Tower
Out across the Bay.
Bright eyes in the ballroom,
Coquetting with two,
Just for love of mischief,
As a girl will do.
A quarrel in the bar-room—
All within the hour—
And four men rode from Boyd Town
To Ben Boyd’s Tower.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Builders of Ruins
We build with strength and deep tower wall
That shall be shattered thus and thus.
And fair and great are court and hall,
But how fair--this is not for us,
Who know the lack that lurks in all.
We know, we know how all too bright
The hues are that our painting wears,
And how the marble gleams too white;--
We speak in unknown tongues, the years
Interpret everything aright,
And crown with weeds our pride of towers,
And warm our marble through with sun,
And break our pavements through with flowers,
With an Amen when all is done,
Knowing these perfect things of ours.
O days, we ponder, left alone,
Like children in their lonely hour,
And in our secrets keep your own,
As seeds the color of the flower.
To-day they are not all unknown,
The stars that 'twixt the rise and fall,
Like relic-seers, shall one by one
Stand musing o'er our empty hall;
And setting moons shall brood upon
The frscoes of our inward wall.
And when some midsummer shall be,
Hither shall come some little one
(Dusty with bloom of flowers is he),
Sit on a ruin i' the late long sun,
And think, one foot upon his knee.
And where they wrought, these lives of ours,
So many-worded, many-souled,
A north-west wind will take the towers,
And dark with color, sunny and cold,
Will range alone among the flowers.
And here or there, at our desire,
The little clamorous owl shall sit,
Through her still time, and we aspire
To make a law (and know not it)
Unto the life of a wild briar.
Our purpose is distinct and dear,
Though from our open eyes 'tis hidden,
Thou, time to come, shall make it clear,
Undoing our work; we are children chidden
With pity and smiles of many a year.
We shall allot the praise, and guess
What part is yours and what is ours?--
O years that certainly will bless
Our flowers with fruits, our seeds with flowers,
With ruin all our perfectness.
Be patient, Time, of our delays,
Too happy hopes, and wasted fears,
Our faithful ways, our wilful ways;
Solace our labors, O our seers
The seasons, and our bards the days;
And make our pause and silence brim
With the shrill children's play, and sweets
Of those pathetic flowers and dim,
Of those eternal flowers my Keats,
Dying, felt growing over him!
poem by Alice Meynell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Doors Down
Chorus:
Two doors down
Theyre laughing and drinkin, and having a party
Two doors down
Theyre not aware that Im around
Cause here I am
Crying my heart out, feelin sorry while
Theyre having a party two doors down
I think Ill dry these useless tears
And get myself together
I think Ill wonder down the hall
And have a look around
cause I cant stay inside
This lonely room and cry forever
I think I really rather join em
Two door down, yeah
Repeat chorus
cause here I am
No longer cryin an feelin sorry
Were having a party just two doors down
I cant believe Im standin here
Dry-eyed, all smiles and talkin
Making conversation with the new love I have found
I ask him if hed like to be alone and we start walkin
Down the hall to my place waitin two doors down, yeah
Repeat chorus
cause here I am
Feelin everything but sorry
Were having our own party two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down, oh
Repeat chorus
cause here we am
Feelin everything but sorry
Were havin our own party
Two doors down, yeah
Fade:
Repeat chorus
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Book of Van den Braak
I stared at the book on the table
Where it lay on the weathered oak,
The cover so black and tarnished,
Tanned in leather through coils of smoke,
Its ancient layers had long been carved
As petals of some grim flower,
Where an evil mildew spread its mould
From the walls of that ancient tower.
The book was set like an altar piece
In that ancient, flagstoned hall,
Catching the feeble rays of light
Through cracks in the old stone wall,
I hastened to look away, but yet
It gripped me in its glare,
Like some old German Grimoire...
Though no title page was there!
I reached for the cover and opened it,
The leather creaked with age,
As it formed with its rotting petals
Into a rose around the page,
The smell of the mildew wafted up
And the chill was damp and stark,
There was nothing but evil in that tower,
In the book of Van den Braak.
I leant right over the book and saw
A woodcut of a lane,
The trees were grim in their winter coats
As the snow gave way to rain,
The mud was thick on the barren leaves
That were mulched from the Autumn's fall,
And I felt it squelch right under my feet
As the wind howled round the hall!
The tower was gone, I stood outside
In the rain and the brooding dark,
Walking along a windswept lane
In the book of Van den Braak,
I saw the light of a cottage there,
Set back in among the trees,
And a woman wailed on the painted step,
My own, my dear Louise!
I ran towards her, through a stream
That babbled beside the lane,
Louise was crying and wailing there,
She muttered: 'I'm not to blame! '
I must have seemed like a phantom there,
I waved, but she couldn't see,
She said, 'you shouldn't have killed him,
I just asked you to set me free! '
A man ran out from the cottage door,
His coat was covered in blood,
He ran his hands through his tangled hair
And fell, to kneel in the mud.
He took her into his arms and cried,
She clung, and called him Mark,
And then when he turned, I saw his face,
I knew him - Van den Braak!
I must have been quite invisible
In the pages of that book,
Or they were a couple of phantoms
Making love as I stood and shook,
I walked around to the cottage door
And peered in out of the rain,
I lay stone dead on the hearthstone there,
A bullet lodged in my brain.
In shock I turned, I saw the tower,
I ran with all my might,
Back to the Norman Keep and Moat,
Back through the surly night,
The eyes of demons had followed me
From high in the trees of the park,
But I was ready for come-what-may
At the hands of Van den Braak!
Then suddenly, I was in the tower,
Leaning over the book,
When Van den Braak called out that he
Was ready to take a look,
I'd brought the book with the tenants' rents
Of those that lived in the park,
But I stabbed him high in the rib cage there,
And cut his throat in the dark!
I went to his German Grimoire
Fell once more through the open page,
Went looking for my Louise, by now
In the white hot throes of rage,
She sat and wailed on the painted step
And muttered there in the dark...
'I didn't ask you to kill the man,
Just free me from Van den Braak! '
1 April 2010
poem by David Lewis Paget
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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