A Northern Suburb
Nature selects the longest way,
And winds about in tortuous grooves;
A thousand years the oaks decay;
The wrinkled glacier hardly moves.
But here the whetted fangs of change
Daily devour the old demesne –
The busy farm, the quiet grange,
The wayside inn, the village green.
In gaudy yellow brick and red,
With rooting pipes, like creepers rank,
The shoddy terraces o'erspread
Meadow, and garth, and daisied bank.
With shelves for rooms the houses crowd,
Like draughty cupboards in a row –
Ice-chests when wintry winds are loud,
Ovens when summer breezes blow.
Roused by the fee'd policeman's knock,
And sad that day should come again,
Under the stars the workmen flock
In haste to reach the workmen's train.
For here dwell those who must fulfil
Dull tasks in uncongenial spheres,
Who toil through dread of coming ill,
And not with hope of happier years –
The lowly folk who scarcely dare
Conceive themselves perhaps misplaced,
Whose prize for unremitting care
Is only not to be disgraced
poem by John Davidson
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Related quotes
The Longest Night
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
- only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells;
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs, -
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
(wilfred owen, 1918)
Now the day has run
When the cover comes
But any fool can see
Ahead
Silence is my friend
But it has to end
Any fool can see
Ahead
Its the longest night
Its the longest night
Cold winds may blow
On the longest night
So we write our letters
To those far away
Any fool can see
Ahead
The distant sound of thunder
A choir of wailing shells
Any fool can see
Ahead
Its the longest night
Its the longest night
Cold winds may blow
On the longest night
I dont want to fight
I dont know whos right
Cold winds they blow
On this longest night
Its the longest night
Its the longest night
Cold winds may blow
On this longest night
Music & lyrics by: geoff downes, john payne & ben woolfenden
song performed by by Asia
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter Winds
winter winds so cold
winter winds blow old
the way it moves
fits into grooves
how smooth it blows
like a smooth robe
the way it feels against my skin
it could make me sin
how cold i am
i can not stand
winter winds
yet i say
winter winds are here to stay
Ye Mariners of England
Ye Mariners of England,
That guard our native seas,
Whose flag has braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze,
Your glorious standard launch again
To match another foe,
And sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow!
While the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow!
The spirits of your fathers
Shall start from every wave,
For the deck it was their field of fame,
And Ocean was their grave.
Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell
Your manly hearts shall glow,
As ye sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow!
While the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow!
Britannia needs no bulwarks,
No towers along the steep:
Her march is o'er the mountain-waves,
Her home is on the deep.
With thunders from her native oak
She quells the floods below
As they roar on the shore,
When the stormy winds do blow!
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow!
The meteor flag of England
Shall yet terrific burn,
Till danger's troubled night depart,
And the star of peace return.
Then, then, ye ocean warriors,
Our song and feast shall flow
To the fame of your name,
When the storm has ceased to blow!
When the fiery fight is heard no more,
And the storm has ceased to blow.
poem by Thomas Campbell
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Winds Of Change
i throw my sigh
and then it came back as
part of the
the winds of change
with some brown leaves
and wings of birds
and butterflies
the winds of change
has come
with the rays of the sun
with the songs of the day
with the hair of my woman
the winds of change
has come
with the yellow sunflower
with the humming bees
and soft rains
and rainbow
the winds of change has
finally come
take me to the magic
of this moment
my winds of change
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Winds Of Summer
WINDS OF SUMMER
Just out of the winds of summer
Came forth a being so sweet and tender.
With a smile that brought forth a stream
Flowing with pure love thus radiant.
Winds of summer blow forth forever
For the love you bring lives on forever.
Winds of summer, winds of love,
Me and my lover forever with each other.
Just out of the winds of summer
Our love grew into a hot flowing lava.
Like little angels we played and laughed at each other.
For the moment those winds of summer came
They carried us in their wings.
poem by Tigana Chileshe
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The Coming-In Of Summer
Yesterday a swallow
Cuckoo-song to-day,
And anon will follow
All the flight of May,
For Summer is a-coming in.
Corncrake's ancient sorrow
Pains the evening hush,
But the dawn to-morrow
Gladdens with the thrush--
And Summer is a-coming in.
Oh! laburnum yellow,
Lilac and the rose,
Chestnut shadow mellow
In my garden-close,
And Summer, Summer coming in!
Lo, with shield and arrow,
Burnished helm and spear,
Flower and leaflet narrow
Rank on rank appear--
King Summer is a-coming in!
Summer, haste and hallow
Something of the Spring,
Which is harsh and callow
Till thy herald sing--
Oh! Summer is a-coming in!
poem by Thomas MacDonagh
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Earlier Poems : Woods In Winter
When winter winds are piercing chill,
And through the hawthorn blows the gale,
With solemn feet I tread the hill,
That overbrows the lonely vale.
O'er the bare upland, and away
Through the long reach of desert woods,
The embracing sunbeams chastely play,
And gladden these deep solitudes.
Where, twisted round the barren oak,
The summer vine in beauty clung,
And summer winds the stillness broke,
The crystal icicle is hung.
Where, from their frozen urns, mute springs
Pour out the river's gradual tide,
Shrilly the skater's iron rings,
And voices fill the woodland side.
Alas! how changed from the fair scene,
When birds sang out their mellow lay,
And winds were soft, and woods were green,
And the song ceased not with the day!
But still wild music is abroad,
Pale, desert woods! within your crowd;
And gathering winds, in hoarse accord,
Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud.
Chill airs and wintry winds! my ear
Has grown familiar with your song;
I hear it in the opening year,
I listen, and it cheers me long.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Woods in Winter
When winter winds are piercing chill,
And through the hawthorn blows the gale,
With solemn feet I tread the hill,
That overbrows the lonely vale.
O'er the bare upland, and away
Through the long reach of desert woods,
The embracing sunbeams chastely play,
And gladden these deep solitudes.
Where, twisted round the barren oak,
The summer vine in beauty clung,
And summer winds the stillness broke,
The crystal icicle is hung.
Where, from their frozen urns, mute springs
Pour out the river's gradual tide,
Shrilly the skater's iron rings,
And voices fill the woodland side.
Alas! how changed from the fair scene,
When birds sang out their mellow lay,
And winds were soft, and woods were green,
And the song ceased not with the day!
But still wild music is abroad,
Pale, desert woods! within your crowd;
And gathering winds, in hoarse accord,
Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud.
Chill airs and wintry winds! my ear
Has grown familiar with your song;
I hear it in the opening year,
I listen, and it cheers me long.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Sky Does Not Protest
In the early years of my flavoured childhood,
Could not I differ between an evil and a good,
And went to the forest afar with my age fellows,
To collect, to gather the dry sticks or fire wood.
In summer seldom the swishing winds blew,
The grains of sand and contents of dust flew,
And made the clean spheres reddish brown,
We bundled the fuel as the harsh winds grew.
Contending the winds, to home we returned,
On each step blurring, blowing blows burned,
And we rested on the way beside the old well,
Wherefrom damsels obtained water churned.
They talked themselves with the concern deep,
About some innocent murder, they did weep,
Then I understood why the sky grew vague,
Why did winds raise dust, why they did beep?
Ah! The sky now does not protest, nor frown,
Nor change colour from blue to reddish brown,
He too might have grown accustomed to blood,
Though Man is killed in each village, each town.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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Song of a Thousand Years
Lift up your eyes desponding freemen!
Fling to the winds your needless fears!
He who unfurl'd your beauteous banner,
Says it shall wave a thousand years!
"A thousand years!" my own Columbia!
'Tis the glad day so long foretold!
'Tis the glad morn whose early twilight
Washington saw in times of old.
What if the clouds, one little moment,
Hide the blue sky where morn appears --
When the bright sun, that tints them crimson,
Rises to shine a thousand years?
Tell the great world those bless-ed tidings!
Yes, and be sure the bondman hears;
Tell the oppress'd of ev'ry nation,
Jubilee lasts a thousand years!
Fearless foes, beyond the ocean!
Little we heed your threat'ning sneers;
Little will they -- our children's children --
When you are gone a thousand years.
Rebels at home! go hide your faces --
Weep for your crimes with bitter tears;
_You_ could not bind the blessed daylight,
Though you should strive a thousand years.
Back to your dens, ye secret traitors!
Down to your own degraded spheres!
Ere the first blaze of dazzling sunshine
Shortens your lives a thousand years.
Haste thee along, this glorious Noonday!
Oh, for the eyes of ancient seers!
Oh, for the faith of Him who reckons
Each of his days a thousand years.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Spring's Whisper
Whispers reach with silkened sigh.
Upon spun wings of time they fly ~
through forests tall and stately bound,
across the brown and barren ground.
Hushed within dark wintry night.
Chilled by nature's frosty sight.
Whispers whisper to the sea ~
Upon new winds a change there'll be.
Above the mountains whispers soar,
a whisper now at heaven's door.
Change follows in expectant glee.
Upon new winds a change there'll be.
Through meadows far ~ they whisper long,
breathing breaths of springtime song.
Alas, sweet wisps of warming see.
Upon new winds a change there'll be.
Awakened by the silkened sigh
of whispers softly flying by ~
earth absorbs the sighs like rain
as springtime whispers once again.
Whispers reach with silkened sigh.
Upon spun wings of time they fly,
to spread their whispers ~ o'er land and sea
Upon new winds a change there'll be.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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A Million Young Work Men
A million young workmen straight and strong lay stiff on the grass and roads,
And the million are now under soil and their rottening flesh will in the years feed roots of blood-red roses.
Yes, this million of young workmen slaughtered one another and never saw their red hands.
And oh, it would have been a great job of killing and a new and beautiful thing under the sun if the million knew why they hacked and tore each other to death.
The kings are grinning, the Kaiser and the czar—they are alive riding in leather-seated motor cars, and they have their women and roses for ease, and they eat fresh-poached eggs for breakfast, new butter on toast, sitting in tall water-tight houses reading the news of war.
I dreamed a million ghosts of the young workmen rose in their shirts all soaked in crimson … and yelled:
God damn the grinning kings, God damn the kaiser and the czar.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Winds Of Change
Written by kit hain.
Tonight theres thunder in the sky
Just like the night you said good-bye
And whats left of a heartache
Runs like rain from my eyes
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
Aint it strange
How you wont matter
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
I stood like a rock against the storm
And you never knew, did you, how I was torn
And if your memory finally leaves me too
Well I wont sit and mourn
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
Aint it strange
How you wont matter
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
I shoulda known better than to love you
I shoulda known that you were the hurting kind
Now Im so tired of thinking of you
I just wanna forget that you were ever mine
Tonight theres shadows on my face
Every one tells a story of your disgrace
But soon the dawn will come
And Ill be gone without a trace
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
Aint it strange
How you wont matter
The winds of change
Gonna blow it all away
Aint it strange
How you wont matter...
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Long In Coming
When shall I hear the thrushes sing,
And see their graceful, round throats swelling?
When shall I watch the bluebirds bring
The straws and twiglets for their dwelling?
When shall I hear among the trees
The little martial partridge drumming?
Oh! Hasten! Sights and sounds that please –
The summer is so long in coming.
The winds are talking with the sun;
I hope they will combine together
And melt the snow-drifts, one by one,
And bring again the golden weather.
Oh, haste, make haste, dear sun and wind,
I long to hear the brown bee humming;
I seek for blooms I cannot find,
The summer is so long in coming.
The winter has been cold, so cold;
Its winds are harsh, and bleak, and dreary,
And all its sports are stale and old;
We wait for something now more cheery.
Come up, O summer, from the south,
And bring the harps your hands are thrumming.
We pine for kisses from your mouth!
Oh! Do not be so long in coming.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Green Peace
Tall trees dance, winds sing past
Harmonic melodica, rain greets earth from universe part
Tall tees dance.
The fountain flows, in a winding groove a torrential chain
From a top a mountain, down the green plains
The fountain flows.
Nature in harmony, in contentment love of green picturesque
Birds sing, animals count mates nature's own peace in brick
Nature in harmony.
Green peace, heaven as stars wink and moon so bright up the sky
Sun's yellow rays strike, greet flowers and dance this day.
Green peace!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Autumn Is Coming
Autumn is coming
With gentle breezes
And howling winds
Autumn is coming
To change the colors
To red, brown, and gold
Upon the forest floor
Will lie the leaves of all the trees
When Autumn is here
When the days cool
And the nights grow long
With a bright silver moon in the sky
When the sleepiness sets in
We will sleep until
Winter breaks
Autumn is coming
poem by Autumn Winds
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Doongalla
From recent rains the woodland path was greasy up along the wooded hill
And the freshening winds of mid afternoon blew with a wintery chill
And in Doongalla east of Melbourne the white cockies did call
In that quiet old mountain woodland where the stringybarks stand tall.
When I last was in Doongalla six or seven years ago
Across the wooded hillside the wintery winds did blow
And the currawongs were calling as through the woodland they did fly
And from memory I remember that too was in July.
The laugh like calls of the kookaburra in Doongalla's woodland ring
And around his invisible borders the grey shrike thrush whistle and sing
And the pleasant fluting of the beautiful crimson rosellas sweet music to the ear
In the woodlands east of Melbourne them one can see and hear
The chilly winds of the high country blow across the wintery sky
And the yellow robin is chirping on the sixth day of July
And the majestic stringybark gums touch the low lying clouds 'twould seem
In Doongalla by the Basin where Mother Nature reign supreme.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Elysium Lost
There have been many pleasantries
As a moppet over the years:
The countless summer night breezes
That whistled music in my ears;
Or lay supine and gaze above
At the moonlit star studded sky
And conceive my dreams undreamed of
As they emerged before my eyes.
But gone are those childish whimsies
Those were born of the wind and stars.
Gone are the musical breezes
That once filled those nights… au revoir!
Gone is that place where I once reigned
Yet in my heart it still remains.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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In Each Other Our Love Has Find A Home (Villanelle)
(For Daleen)
Though we do not know each other many years
in each other our love has find a home
as if by God determined through the spheres
where not in sorrow but in joy come our tears.
that separately we no longer must roam.
though we do not know each other many years
and while we share our cares we have no fears,
what a happy time has come
as if by God determined through the spheres.
With songs of jubilance in our ears
all of nature suddenly seems wholesome,
though we do not know each other many years
the most beautiful splendour flowers wears,
in a world that at times are gruesome
as if by God determined through the spheres
it feels as if these blessings are in arrears
and to me the only one you have become
though we do not know each other many years
as if by God determined through the spheres.
poem by Gert Strydom
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farewell summer GOOD_BYE
I live in Lake District in Turkey
for four years
as a permanent resident
after retirment
It is the hometown of my wife
rose district
iti is also called
the city Isparta
famous with her roses
especially with oil roses
rose oı ls
spilling on all over the world
scenting differently
the off spring are walkş ng
in obidiency
and silently and politely
holding their kins hands tightly
what a sight
but this summer
roses are in bankruptcy
nowadays
the purple and pink thistles
are turning brownish yellow
the sparrows..the finches...the goldfinches
are entering the uncultivated gardens scarcely
they have lost most of their joys
the sunflowers are opening wide
seeing the hottest sun
the butterflies are flying joyfully
the ancient house seems more desolate
her walls are mor wrinkled this year
at nights
ı cannot see any light
where are the olden women
living there
coping with themselves and life
the poplars around are hissing and whispering
in the winds
the green began to yellow
all my hopes are hollow
the crows
crow crow crow
and the madman
crows just like them
in the morning
the hazelnuts are still hanging on the trees
the grain be cut and scythed
some stains fell on the weather
ı feel
the hot days
will not last much further
farewell summer
good_bye
oh the last butterfly of summer
fly fly fly
when you are able to fly
poem by Metin Sahin
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