Muley Malak
THUNDER of guns, and cries—banners and spears and blood!
Troops have died where they stood holding the vantage points—
They have raced like waves at a wall, and dashed themselves to death.
Dawn the fight begin, and noon was red with its noon.
The armies stretch afar—and the plain of Alcazar
Is drenched with Moorish blood.
On one side, Muley the King—Muley Malek the Strong.
He had seized the Moorish crown because it would fit his brows.
Hamet the Fair was king; but Muley pulled him down, because he was strong.
The fierce sun glares on the clouds of dust and battlesmoke,
The hoarsened soldiers choke in the blinding heat.
Muley the King is afield, but sick to the death.
Borne on a litter he lies, his blood on fire, his eyes
Flaming with fever light.
Hamah Tabah the Captain, stands by the curtained bed,
Telling him news of the fight—how the waves roll and rise, and clash and mingle and seethe.
And Hamah bends to the scene. He peers under arched hand—
As an eagle he stoops to the field. One hand on the hilt
Is white at the knuckles, so fiercely gripped; while the hand
That had parted the curtains before now clutches the silk and wrings.
Hamet's squadrons are moving in mass—their lines are circling the plain!
The thousands of Muley stand, like bison dazed by an earthquake;
They are stunned by the thud of the fight, they are deer without a leader;
Their charge has died like the impulse of missiles freed from the sling;
Their spears waver like shaken barley,—they are dumbstruck and ready to fly!
Hamah Tabah the Captain, in words like the pouring of pitch, has painted
The terrible scene for the sick King, and terrible answer follows.
Up from the couch of pain, disdaining the bonds of weakness;
Flinging aside disease as a wrestler flings his tunic;
Strong with the smothered flre of fever, and fiercer far than its flaming,
Rises in mail from the litter Muley Malek the King!
Down on his plunging stallion, in the eyes of the shuddered troops,
His bent plume like a smoke, and his sword like a flame,
Smelting their souls with his courage, he rides before his soldiers!
They bend from his face like the sun—their eyes are blind with shame—
They thrill as a stricken tiger thrills, gathering his limbs from a blow;
They raise their faces, and watch him, sworded and mailed and strong;
They watch him, and shout his name fiercely—'Muley, the King!'
Grimly they close their ranks, drinking his face like wine;
Strength to the arm and wrath to the soul, and power—
Fuel and fire he was—and the battle roared like a crater!
Back to the litter, his face turned from the lines, and fixed
In a stare like the faces in granite, the King
Rode straight and strong, holding his sword
Soldierly, gripped on the thigh, grim as a king in iron!
Stiff in the saddle, stark, frowning—one hand is raised,
The mailed finger is laid on the mouth:
'Silence!' the warning said to Haman Tabah the Captain.
Help from his horse they give, moving him, still unbending,
Down to the bed, and lay him within the curtains.
Mutely they answer his frown, like ridges of bronze, and sternly
Again is the mailed hand raised and laid on the lips in warning:
' Silence! ' it said, and the meaning smote through their blood like flame,
As the tremor passed through his armor and the grayness crept o'er his features—
Muley the King was dead!
Furious the struggle and long, the armies with teeth aclench
And dripping weapons shortened, like athletes whose blows have killed pain.
The soldiers of Hamet were flushed—but the spirit of Muley opposed them;
The weak of Muley grew strong when they looked at the curtained litter.
Their thought of the King was wine in the thirst of the fight;
They saw that Hamah was there, still bending over the bed;
Holding the curtains wide and taking the order that came
From the burning lips of the King, and sending it down to his soldiers;
They knew that Hamah the Captain was telling him of the onset,
How they swept like hail on the fields, and left them like sickled grain.
Back, as the waves in a tempest are flung from a cliff and scattered,
Burst and horribly broken and driven beneath with the impact,
Shivered, for once and forever, the conquered forces; King Hamet
Was slain by the sword, and the foreign monarch who helped him,
And the plain was swept by the besom of death:
There never was grander faith in a king!
Trophies and victors' crowns, bring them to bind his brow!
Circle his curtained bed—thousands and thousands, come!
It will cure him, and kill his pain—we must see him tonight again:
One glance of his love and pride for all the hosts that died—
To his bedside—come!
Rigid, with frowning brow, his finger laid on his lips,
They saw him—saw him and knew, and read the word that he spake,
Stronger than death, and they stood in their tears, and were silent,
Obeying the King!
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
New World Order
Broken down, feeling naked
Leaving me unfulfilled
Promising compromise
Championing mediocrity
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King, God save the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
I reveal a deceiver
In the highest seat in the land
His idle hands the Devil's workshop
Generate more smoke than heat
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King, God save the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
A new precedent in pain, a new precedent in pain
Mankind is blown to dust, mankind is blown to dust
An explosion of the Brain, an explosion of the
Brain
Spontaneously combust, spontaneously combust
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the
King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
Kill the King, I, The King is dead, I am, Long live
the King,
I am the King
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King
KING
' Martin Luther King
and that he was
a man of great moral
a leader because he led by example
KING
what makes a man a king
his determination to lead his people
his commitment, his drive
KING
a father
a husband
a friend
a Leader
For whom left his mark as KING
Man of the century to many who knew his pain
his struggle
Name another man who put his life in the teeth if death for a cause more than King
and for that same reason,
That Farther, Husband, Friend and Leader
Remains most of all
KING'
By: Kottrell Johnson
poem by Kottrell Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Battle of Shina, in Africa, Fought in 1800
King Shuac, the Giant of Mizra, war did declare
Against Ulva, King of Shina, telling him to prepare
And be ready for to meet him in the fight,
Which would commence the next morning before daylight.
When King Ulva heard the news, he told his warriors to prepare,
Then suddenly the clatter of arms sounded in the night air;
And the pale beams of the moon shone on coats of mail,
But not one bosom beneath them with fear did quail.
And bugles rang out their hoarse call,
And armed men gathered quickly, not in dread of their downfall;
For King Ulva resolved to go and meet Shuac,
So, by doing so, King Ulva's men courage didn't lack.
Therefore, the temple was lighted up anew,
And filled with armed warriors, bold and true;
And the King stood clad in his armour, and full of pride,
As he gazed upon his warriors, close by his side.
And he bowed himself to the ground,
While there was a deep silence around;
And he swore, by his false god of the all-seeing eye,
That he would meet Shuac, King of Mizra, and make him fly.
And I swear that in Shina peace shall remain,
And whatever thou desireth, supreme one, will not be in vain;
For thou shalt get what thou considereth to be most fit,
Though it be of my own flesh and blood, I swear it.
Then, when all was in readiness, they marched before the dawn,
Sixty thousand in number, and each a picked man;
And they marched on silently to take Shuac's army by surprise,
And attack him if possible, before sunrise.
King Shuac's army were about one hundred thousand strong,
And, when King Ulva heard so, he cried, We'll conquer them ere long,
Therefore, march on, brave men, we'll meet them before daybreak,
So, be resolute and conquer, and fight for Shina's sake.
Within a mile of the enemy's camp they lay all night,
Scarcely taking well-earned repose, they were so eager for the fight;
And when the morning broke clear and cloudless, with a burning sky,
Each warrior was wishing that the fight was begun.
And as the armies neared one another, across the fertile land,
It was a most imposing sight, and truly grand,
To see the warriors clad in armour bright,
Especially the form of Shuac, in the midst of the fight.
The royal guard, forming the vanguard, made the first attack,
Under the command of King Ulva, who courage didn't lack;
And cries of "King Ulva!" and "King Shuac!" rent the air,
While Shuac cried, I'll burn Shina to the ground, I now do swear!
King Shuac was mounted on a powerful steed,
Which pressed its way through the ranks with lightning speed;
And with its hoofs the earth it uptears,
Until, with a bound, it dashes through the ranks of opposing spears.
Then the two Kings met each other at last,
And fire flashed from their weapons, and blows fell fast;
But Shuac was the strongest of the two,
But King Ulva was his match with the club, Ulva knew.
Then, with his club, he gave Shuac a blow, which wounded him deep,
Crying out, Shuac, thy blood is deserting thee! thou art a sheep!
Cried Ulva, dealing him another fearful blow,
Then Shuac raised his club and rushed on his foe.
Then his blow fell, and knocked Ulva's club from his hand,
While both armies in amazement stand
To watch the hand-to-hand fight,
While Shuac's warriors felt great delight.
But there chanced to be a Scotchman in Ulva's army,
That had a loaded pistol, and he fired it immediately,
And shot King Shuac through the head,
And he toppled over to the ground killed stone dead!
Then the men of Mizra laid down their arms and fled
When they saw that their King was killed dead;
Then King Ulva said to the Scotchman, I am thy servant for ever,
For to thee I owe my life, and nought but death will us sever.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Coronation
At the king's gate the subtle noon
Wove filmy yellow nets of sun;
Into the drowsy snare too soon
The guards fell one by one.
Through the king's gate, unquestioned then,
A beggar went and laughed, 'This brings
Me chance, at last, to see if men
Fare better being kings.'
The king sat bowed beneath his crown,
Propping his face with listless hand;
Watching the hour-glass sifting down
Too slow its shining sand.
'Poor man, what wouldst thou have of me?'
The beggar turned, and pitying,
Replied, like one in dream, 'Of thee,
Nothing. I want the king.'
Uprose the king, and from his head
Shook off the crown, and threw it by.
'O man, thou must have known,' said he,
'A greater king than I.'
Through all the gates, unquestioned then,
Went king and beggar hand in hand.
Whispered the king, 'Shall I know when
Before
his
throne I stand?'
The beggar laughed. Free winds in haste
Were wiping from the king's hot brow
The crimson lines the crown had traced.
'This is his presence now.'
At the king's gate, the crafty noon
Unwove its yellow nets of sun;
Out of their sleep in terror soon
The guards waked one by one.
'Ho here! Ho There! Has no man seen
The king?' The cry ran to and fro;
Beggar and king, they laughed, I ween,
The laugh that free men know.
On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They called him dead;
And made his eldest son one day
Slave in his father's stead.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If I Were King
I often wish I were a King,
And then I could do anything.
If only I were King of Spain,
I'd take my hat off in the rain.
If only I were King of France,
I wouldn't brush my hair for aunts.
I think, if I were King of Greece,
I'd push things off the mantelpiece.
If I were King of Norroway,
I'd ask an elephant to stay.
If I were King of Babylon,
I'd leave my button gloves undone.
If I were King of Timbuctoo,
I'd think of lovely things to do.
If I were King of anything,
I'd tell the soldiers, "I'm the King!"
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cavalier Tunes: Give a Rouse
King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in Hell's despite now,
King Charles!
Who gave me the goods that went since?
Who raised me the house that sank once?
Who helped me to gold I spent since?
Who found me in wine you drank once?
(Chorus)
King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in Hell's despite now,
King Charles!
To whom used my boy George quaff else,
By the old fool's side that begot him?
For whom did he cheer and laugh else,
While Noll's damned troopers shot him?
(Chorus)
King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in Hell's despite now,
King Charles!
poem by Robert Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give a Rouse
I
King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!
II
Who gave me the goods that went since?
Who raised me the house that sank once?
Who helped me to gold I spent since?
Who found me in wine you drank once?
Chorus. King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!
III
To whom used my boy George quaff else,
By the old fool's side that begot him?
For whom did he cheer and laugh else,
While Noll's damned troopers shot him?
Chorus. King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!
poem by Robert Browning from Cavalier Tunes (1842)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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King Of The Kats
Hot leather and sex
All the things that I dress in best
Aint no way you can beat
The way Im flyin fast on my feet
Im the king, Im the king, Im the king of the kats
And Im ready to roll
Im the king, Im the king, Im the king of the kats
And baby thats a fact alright
Quickest gun in the west
There aint no question that Im the best
Drinking till I die
Youre sick and skinny well so am i
Im the king, Im the king, Im the king of the kats
And Im ready to roll
Im the king, Im the king, Im the king of the kats
And baby thats a fact alright
(look out!)
Im the king, Im the king, Im the king of the kats
And Im ready to roll
Im the king, Im the king, Im the king of the kats
And baby thats a fact alright
Ooh, thats alright
song performed by by Alice In Chains
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Of Groove
Everybody wants to be a star
everybody wants to be accepted by the mass
everybody wants to be raging fire
but their heat don't last
Everybody wanta peek into my dreams
they try to figure out if I'm just full of jive
everybody wanta ride in my limousine
but nobody wants to drive
chorus:
But I'm the king
I'm the king of groove
yes I'm the king
I'm the king of groove
he's the king of groove (I cant't lose)
(summon the royal brass)
Everybody want a piece of the pie
but they'll take a pass if it's a case of do or die
the greener syndrome is at hand
we'll kick the feline or come forth and take a stand
If you're wishing on a star
ooh I pray your wishes bring you to receive the call
the king of groove is going far
and in my kingdom there is room for all
chorus:
'cause I'm the king
I'm the king of groove
yes I'm the king
I'm the king of groove
bridge:
King of groove
I can't lose
song performed by by Earth Wind & Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Death of the Old Sea King
'Twas a fearful night -- the tempest raved
With loud and wrathful pride,
The storm-king harnessed his lightning steeds,
And rode on the raging tide.
The sea-king lay on his bed of death,
Pale mourners around him bent;
They knew the wild and fitful life
Of their chief was almost spent.
His ear was growing dull in death
When the angry storm he heard,
The sluggish blood in the old man's veins
With sudden vigor stirred.
"I hear them call," cried the dying man,
His eyes grew full of light;
"Now bring me here my warrior robes,
My sword and armor bright.
"In the tempest's lull I heard a voice,
I knew 'twas Odin's call.
The Valkyrs are gathering round my bed
To lead me unto his hall.
"Bear me unto my noblest ship,
Light up a funeral pyre;
I'll walk to the palace of the braves
Through a path of flame and fire."
Oh! wild and bright was the stormy light
That flashed from the old man's eye,
As they bore him from the couch of death
To his battle-ship to die,
And lit with many a mournful torch
The sea-king's dying bed,
And like a banner fair and bright
The flames around him spread.
But they heard no cry of anguish
Break through that fiery wall,
With rigid brow and silent lips
He was seeking Odin's hall.
Through a path of fearful splendor,
While strong men held their breath,
The brave old man went boldly forth
And calmly talked with death.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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King Without A Crown
Welcome to the great republic
Guess I should show you round
Where once I was a king
And now I am a clown
The love that we once shared
Made a king of me
But now youre gone... but now youre gone
All I face is poverty
...king without a heart
...king without a hope
...king without a woman baby
Oh Im a king without a crown
...king without a heart
...king without a hope
...king without a woman baby
Oh Im a king without a crown
Hell hath no fury
Like a woman scorned
But heaven dont boast - no heaven dont boast
The jewel - the pretty jewel I just pawned
Every cloud has a silver lining
Every dog has its day
Oh but I guess the sun stopped shining
On the day you went away
...king without a heart
...king without a hope
...king without a woman baby
Oh Im a king without a crown
...king without a heart
...king without a hope
...king without a woman baby
Oh Im a king without a crown
...king without a heart
...king without a hope
...king without a woman baby
Yes Im a king - king! king without a crown
Bathed in former glory
Deposed from my throne
How do I get to tell my story?
When all gets your answerphone...
But you aint home
With the love you gave
I felt like royalty
But now youre face to face - face to face
With one ex-member of the aristocracy
...king without a heart
...king without a hope
...king without a woman baby
Oh Im a king without a crown
...king without a heart
...king without a hope
...king without a woman baby
Oh Im a king without a crown
Theres no need to feel down
Yeah just take a look around
Youll see a man whos just a man
Nothing more
A king without a crown
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kill The King
Broken down, feeling naked
Leaving me unfulfilled
Promising compromise
Championing mediocrity
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King,
I am the King, God save the King
I reveal a deceiver
In the highest seat in the land
His idle hands the Devil's workshop
Generate more smoke than heat
Time and time again
What you said ain't what you mean
Even if all my bones are broken
I will drag myself back from the edge to
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King,
I am the King, God save the King
Kill the King, The King is dead
I am the King, Long live the King
A new precedent in pain, a new precedent in pain
Mankind is blown to dust, mankind is blown to dust
An explosion of the Brain, an explosion of the Brain
Spontaneously combust, spontaneously combust
Kill the King, The King is dead, Long live the King,
I am the King
song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Of Groove
Morris butch stewart
Everybody wants to be a star
Everybody wants to be accepted by the mass
Everybody wants to be raging fire
But their heat dont last
Everybody wanta peek into my dreams
They try to figure out if Im just full of jive
Everybody wanta ride in my limousine
But nobody wants to drive
Chorus:
But Im the king
Im the king of groove
Yes Im the king
Im the king of groove
Hes the king of groove (I cantt lose)
(summon the royal brass)
Everybody want a piece of the pie
But theyll take a pass if its a case of do or die
The greener syndrome is at hand
Well kick the feline or come forth and take a stand
If youre wishing on a star
Ooh I pray your wishes bring you to receive the call
The king of groove is going far
And in my kingdom there is room for all
Chorus:
cause Im the king
Im the king of groove
Yes Im the king
Im the king of groove
Bridge:
King of groove
I cant lose,
Stand back and watch my moves
cause Im the king of groove
Im the king yeah Im the king
Yeah iiiIm the king of groove
Hes the king of groove
Thats right
Bridge:
Well, youve got your
This of that and your that of this
With the king of groove baby you cant miss
You got your joan of arc
And your house of wax
But with the king of groove
Youll be jammin back
You got your dukes of hazzard and your duke of earl
And the queen of sheba, she was one bad girl
Aretha franklin, shes the queen of soul
But the king of groove
Is in control
Hes got the lord of lords
And the king of kings
He keeps the king of groove
Doing his thing
You cant stop him
No matter what you do
cause youre dealing with
The king of groove
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As a World Would Have It
ALCESTIS
Shall I never make him look at me again?
I look at him, I look my life at him,
I tell him all I know the way to tell,
But there he stays the same.
Shall I never make him speak one word to me?
Shall I never make him say enough to show
My heart if he be glad? Be glad? … ah! God,
Why did they bring me back?
I wonder, if I go to him again,
If I take him by those two cold hands again,
Shall I get one look of him at last, or feel
One sign—or anything?
Or will he still sit there in the same way,
Without an answer for me from his lips,
Or from his eyes,—or even with a touch
Of his hand on my hand?…
“Will you look down this once—look down at me?
Speak once—and if you never speak again,
Tell me enough—tell me enough to make
Me know that you are glad!
“You are my King, and once my King would speak:
You were Admetus once, you loved me once:
Life was a dream of heaven for us once—
And has the dream gone by?
“Do I cling to shadows when I call you Life?
Do you love me still, or are the shadows all?
Or is it I that love you in the grave,
And you that mourn for me?
“If it be that, then do not mourn for me;
Be glad that I have loved you, and be King.
But if it be not that—if it be true …
Tell me if it be true!”
Then with a choking answer the King spoke;
But never touched his hand on hers, or fixed
His eyes on hers, or on the face of her:
“Yes, it is true,” he said.
“You are alive, and you are with me now;
And you are reaching up to me that I—
That I may take you—I that am a King—
I that was once a man."
So then she knew. She might have known before;
Truly, she thought, she must have known it long
Before: she must have known it when she came
From that great sleep of hers.
She knew the truth, but not yet all of it:
He loved her, but he would not let his eyes
Prove that he loved her; and he would not hold
His wife there in his arms.
So, like a slave, she waited at his knees,
And waited. She was not unhappy now.
She quivered, but she knew that he would speak
Again—and he did speak.
And while she felt the tremor of his words,
He told her all there was for him to tell;
And then he turned his face to meet her face,
That she might look at him.
She looked; and all her trust was in that look,
And all her faith was in it, and her love;
And when his answer to that look came back,
It flashed back through his tears.
So then she put her arms around his neck,
And kissed him on his forehead and his lips;
And there she clung, fast in his arms again,
Triumphant, with closed eyes.
At last, half whispering, she spoke once more:
“Why was it that you suffered for so long?
Why could you not believe me—trust in me?
Was I so strange as that?
“We suffer when we do not understand;
And you have suffered—you that love me now—
Because you are a man.… There is one thing
No man can understand.
“I would have given everything?—gone down
To Tartarus—to silence? Was it that?
I would have died? I would have let you live?—
And was it very strange?”
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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King Rocker
Jailhouse rocker roots training down
In memphis
Liverpool johnny rocks out round pauls place
Seconds away as the rhythm comes down
King faces king in the ring for the crown
King rocker king rocker - rock rock rock
King kong
King kong
Elvis from the body shakes from the hipbone
Quarry st. kids in leather take hamburg
Creole was sharp but his guitar was acoustic
Go johnny go use your electric
-crazy man crazy
King rocker king rocker - rock rock rock
King kong
King kong
King rocker king rocker - rock rock rock
King kong
Round three - ali buzzin like a bee,
Elvis in the corner and you wont catch me
Round four - johnny lookin poor,
Gotta find a hit gotta even up the score
Round five - some jive, elvis took a dive
Waitin for the towel more dead than alive
Round six, seven, eight, nine, -
Ref stops the fight with the men on forty two
For a rematch in heaven
If they ever come through
[gotta] see this fight right thru til the last round
Follow the man
Whose puttin out the boss sound
Of king rocker king rocker -rock rock rock
King kong
King kong
King kong
King kong
King rocker king rocker -rock rock rock
King kong
King kong
King kong
King kong
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother and sphinx
(EGYPTIAN FOLK-SONG)
Grim is the face that looks into the night
Over the stretch of sands;
A sullen rock in a sea of white--
A ghostly shadow in ghostly light,
Peering and moaning it stands.
"Oh, is it the king that rides this way--
Oh, is it the king that rides so free?
I have looked for the king this many a day,
But the years that mock me will not say
Why tarrieth he!"
'T is not your king that shall ride to-night,
But a child that is fast asleep;
And the horse he shall ride is the Dream-horse white--
Aha, he shall speed through the ghostly light
Where the ghostly shadows creep!
"My eyes are dull and my face is sere,
Yet unto the word he gave I cling,
For he was a Pharaoh that set me here--
And, lo! I have waited this many a year
For him--my king!"
Oh, past thy face my darling shall ride
Swift as the burning winds that bear
The sand clouds over the desert wide--
Swift to the verdure and palms beside
The wells off there!
"And is it the mighty king I shall see
Come riding into the night?
Oh, is it the king come back to me--
Proudly and fiercely rideth he,
With centuries dight!"
I know no king but my dark-eyed dear
That shall ride the Dream-Horse white;
But see! he wakes at my bosom here,
While the Dream-Horse frettingly lingers near
To speed with my babe to-night!
And out of the desert darkness peers
A ghostly, ghastly, shadowy thing
Like a spirit come out of the mouldering years,
And ever that waiting spectre hears
The coming king!
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Battle of Flodden Field
'Twas on the 9th of September, a very beautiful day,
That a numerous English army came in grand array,
And pitched their tents on Flodden field so green
In the year of our Lord fifteen hundred and thirteen.
And on the ridge of Braxton hill the Scottish army lay,
All beautifully arrayed, and eager for the fray,
And near by stood their noble king on that eventful day,
With a sad and heavy heart, but in it no dismay.
And around him were his nobles, both in church and state,
And they felt a little dispirited regarding the king's fate;
For the independence of bonnie Scotland was at stake,
And if they lost the battle, many a heart would break.
And as King James viewed the enemy he really wondered,
Because he saw by them he was greatly outnumbered,
And he knew that the struggle would be desperate to the last,
And for Scotland's weal or woe the die was cast.
The silence of the gathered armies was very still
Until some horsemen began to gallop about the brow of the hill,
Then from rank to rank the signal for attack quickly flew,
And each man in haste to his comrade closely drew.
Then the Scottish artillery opened with a fearful cannonade;
But the English army seemed to be not the least afraid,
And they quickly answered them by their cannon on the plain;
While innocent blood did flow, just like a flood of rain.
But the artillery practice very soon did cease,
Then foe met foe foot to foot, and the havoc did increase,
And, with a wild slogan cry, the Highlanders bounded down the hill,
And many of the English vanguard, with their claymores, they did kill.
Then, taken by surprise and the suddenness of the attack,
The vanguard of the English army instantly fell back,
But rallied again immediately-- to be beaten back once more,
Whilst beneath the Highlanders' claymores they fell by the score.
But a large body of horsemen came to the rescue,
And the wing of the Scottish army they soon did subdue;
Then swords and spears clashed on every side around,
While the still air was filled with a death-wailing sound.
Then King James thought he'd strike an effective blow-
So he ordered his bodyguard to the plain below,
And all the nobles that were in his train,
To engage the foe hand to hand on that bloody plain.
And to them the din of battle was only a shout of glory:
But for their noble king they felt a little sorry,
Because they knew he was sacrificing a strong position,
Which was to his army a very great acquisition.
But King James was resolved to have his own will,
And he wouldn't allow the English to come up the hill,
Because he thought he wasn't matching himself equally against the foe;
So the nobles agreed to follow their leader for weal or woe.
'Twas then they plunged down into the thick of the fight,
And the king fought like a lion with all his might;
And in his cause he saw his nobles falling on every side around,
While he himself had received a very severe wound.
And the English archers were pouring in their shafts like hail
And swords and spears were shivered against coats of mail,
And the king was manfully engaged contesting every inch of ground,
While the cries of the dying ascended up to heaven with a pitiful sound.
And still around the king the battle fiercely raged,
While his devoted followers were hotly engaged,
And the dead and the dying were piled high all around,
And alas! the brave king had received the second wound.
The Scottish army was composed of men from various northern isles,
Who had travelled, no doubt, hundreds of miles;
And with hunger and fatigue many were like to faint,
But the brave heroes uttered no complaint.
And heroically they fought that day on behalf of their king,
Whilst around him they formed a solid ring;
And the king was the hero of the fight,
Cutting, hacking, and slashing left and right.
But alas! they were not proof against the weapons of the foe,
Which filled their hearts with despair and woe;
And, not able to maintain their close form, they were beaten back,
And Lennox and Argyle, their leaders, were slain, alack!
And the field became so slippery with blood they could scarcely stand,
But in their stocking-feet they fought hand to hand,
And on both sides men fell like wheat before the mower,
While the cheers from both armies made a hideous roar.
Then King James he waved his sword on high,
And cried, "Scotsmen, forward! and make the Saxons fly;
And remember Scotland's independence is at stake,
So charge them boldly for Scotland's sake."
So grooms, lords, and knights fought all alike,
And hard blows for bonnie Scotland they did strike,
And swords and spears loudly did clatter,
And innocent blood did flow like water.
But alas! the king and his nobles fought in vain,
And by an English billman the king was slain;
Then a mighty cheer from the English told Scotland's power had fled,
And King James the Fourth of Scotland, alas! was dead!
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wildest Dreams
They decorated all the generals
Who fought the wars behind the lines
They had forgotten all the soldiers
The brandy put them way behind the times
Insanity has found its way to tv screens
Vision seems impossible to me
They fight {they fight} for king {for king} and country
I never would have thought this in my
{chorus}
Wildest dreams
Wildest dreams
Wildest dreams
Wildest dreams
The evening comes, we sit and watch the vjs
Clips and rushes come from who knows where
From washington across to california
With fighting breaking out in leicester square
We see the soldiers moving on to victory
And children trampled under marching feet
They fight {they fight} for king {for king} and country
How many millions will they put to sleep?
{chorus}
Fly away...
No, not in this world
No, not in the next
No, not in my wildest dreams
They recommended euthanasia
For non-conformists anywhere
Some mens dreams for others turn to nightmares
This never would have happened in my
{chorus}
Fly away...
No, not in this world
No, not in the next
No, not in my wildest dreams...
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Battle Of Liège
Now spake the Emperor to all his shining battle forces,
To the Lancers, and the Rifles, to the Gunners and the Horses;—
And his pride surged up within him as he saw their banners stream!—
“’T is a twelve-day march to Paris, by the road our fathers travelled,
And the prize is half an empire when the scarlet road’s unravelled—
Go you now across the border,
God’s decree and William’s order—
Climb the frowning Belgian ridges
With your naked swords agleam!
Seize the City of the Bridges—
Then get on, get on to Paris—
To the jewelled streets of Paris—
To the lovely woman, Paris, that has driven me to dream!”
A hundred thousand fighting men
They climbed the frowning ridges,
With their flaming swords drawn free
And their pennants at their knee.
They went up to their desire,
To the City of the Bridges,
With their naked brands outdrawn
Like the lances of the dawn!
In a swelling surf of fire,
Crawling higher—higher—higher—
Till they crumpled up and died
Like a sudden wasted tide,
And the thunder in their faces beat them down and flung them wide!
They had paid a thousand men,
Yet they formed and came again,
For they heard the silver bugles sounding challenge to their pride,
And they rode with swords agleam
For the glory of a dream,
And they stormed up to the cannon’s mouth and withered there, and died….
The daylight lay in ashes
On the blackened western hill,
And the dead were calm and still;
But the Night was torn with gashes—
Sudden ragged crimson gashes—
And the siege-guns snarled and roared,
With their flames thrust like a sword,
And the tranquil moon came riding on the heaven’s silver ford.
What a fearful world was there,
Tangled in the cold moon’s hair!
Man and beast lay hurt and screaming,
(Men must die when Kings are dreaming!)—
While within the harried town
Mothers dragged their children down
As the awful rain came screaming,
For the glory of a Crown!
So the Morning flung her cloak
Through the hanging pall of smoke—
Trimmed with red, it was, and dripping with a deep and angry stain!
And the Day came walking then
Through a lane of murdered men,
And her light fell down before her like a Cross upon the plain!
But the forts still crowned the height
With a bitter iron crown!
They had lived to flame and fight,
They had lived to keep the Town!
And they poured their havoc down
All that day … and all that night….
While four times their number came,
Pawns that played a bloody game!—
With a silver trumpeting,
For the glory of the King,
To the barriers of the thunder and the fury of the flame!
So they stormed the iron Hill,
O’er the sleepers lying still,
And their trumpets sang them forward through the dull succeeding dawns,
But the thunder flung them wide,
And they crumpled up and died,—
They had waged the war of monarchs—and they died the death of pawns.
But the forts still stood…. Their breath
Swept the foeman like a blade,
Though ten thousand men were paid
To the hungry purse of Death,
Though the field was wet with blood,
Still the bold defences stood,
Stood!
And the King came out with his bodyguard at the day’s departing gleam—
And the moon rode up behind the smoke and showed the King his dream.
poem by Dana Burnet
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The King of Erin's Daughter
THE King of Erin's Daughter had wind-blown hair and bright,
The King of Erin's Daughter, her eyes were like the sea;
(O Rose of all the roses, have you forgotten quite
The story of the days of old that once you told to me?)
The King of Erin's Daughter went up the mountain side
And who but she was singing as she went upon her way,
'O somewhere waits a King's Son and I shall be his bride,
And tall he is and fair he is and none shall say him nay.'
The King of Erin's Daughter–O fair was she and sweet–
Went laughing up the mountain without a look behind
Till on the lofty summit that lay beneath her feet
She found a King's Son waiting there, his brows with poppies twined.
O tall was he and fair was he. He looked into her face
And whispered in her ear a word un-named of mortal breath
And very still she rested, clasped close in his embrace,
The King of Erin's Daughter, for the bridegroom's name was Death.
poem by Norah M. Holland
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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