On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer
Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star'd at the Pacific--and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise--
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
poem by John Keats
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Related quotes
Sonnet XI. On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer
Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He star'd at the Pacific -- and all his men
Look'd at each other with a wild surmise --
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
poem by John Keats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On First Looking - Parody John KEATS – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
On First Looking
Much have I rummaged, bartered books for gold,
and many goodly states of Shakespeare seen,
round many stalls and book fairs have I been
which frauds in fealty to their runners hold.
Oft of some sharp expense had I been told
that Maggs or Quaritch made their pet demesne,
yet never did I seethe with rage so keen
till once a chap-book saw I still unsold.
Then wished I Evoe was, who in disguise,
the superman of planet fame, I ken,
skinned over catalogues with eagle eyes
to stare at price lists with a skill few men
can e’er attain unearthing bargains. Vain
‘twas, a dream, I sink, to sleep again...
[c] Jonathan Robin parody written 2 August 1991
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
________
On First Looking Into Chapman’s Homer
Much have I travelled in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne:
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez, when with eagle eyes
He stared at the Pacific, and all his men
Looked at each other with a wild surmise -
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
John KEATS 1795_1821
___________
On First Looking into Bee Palmer's Shoulders
WITH BOWS TO KEATS AND KEITH'S
'The World's Most Famous Shoulders'
'BEE' PALMER has taken the raw human - all too human - stuff of the underworld, with its sighs of sadness and regret, its mad merriment, its swift blaze of passion, its turbulent dances, its outlaw music, its songs of the social bandit, and made a new art product of the theatre. She is to the sources of jazz and the blues what François Villon was to the wild life of Paris. Both have found exquisite blossoms of art in the sector of life most removed from the concert room and the boudoir, and their harvest has the vigour, the resolute life, the stimulating quality, the indelible impress of daredevil, care-free, do-as-you-please lives of the picturesque men and women who defy convention. From Keith's Press Agent.
Much have I travell'd in the realms of jazz,
And many goodly arms and shoulders seen
Quiver and Quake - if you know what I mean;
I've seen a lot, as everybody has.
Some plaudits got, while others got the razz.
But when I saw Bee Palmer, shimmy queen,
I shook - in sympathy - my troubled bean,
And said, 'This is the utter razmatazz.'
Then felt I like some patient with a pain
When a new surgeon swims into his ken,
Or like stout Brodie, when, with reeling brain,
He jumped into the river. There and then
I swayed and took the morning train
To Norwalk, Naugatuck, and Darien.
Franklin Pierce ADAMS 1881_1960
By Mother Goose and our own Sara Teasdale - Something Else Again Part II
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
___________
On First Looking in on Blodgett's...
Mellifluous as bees, these brittle men
droning of Honeyed Homer give me hives.
I scratch, yawn like a bear, my arm arrives
at yours - oh, Honey, and we're back again,
me the Balboa, you the Darien,
lording the loud Pacific sands, our lives
as hazarded as when a petrel dives
to yank the dull sea's coverlet, or when,
breaking from me across the sand that's rink
and record of our weekend boning up
on The Romantic Agony, you sink
John Keats a good surf-fisher's cast out - plump
in the sun's wake - and the parched pages drink
that great whales' blanket party hump and hump.
George STARBUCK 1931_20
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
___________
On First Looking Into an Exam Paper
Oft have I batted on the cricket field,
And over many a bowler could I crow.
My frequent fights would sweat-browed triumphs yield,
For few could better give a knock-out blow.
Oft of this dismal time had I been told
That th’examiner ruled as his demesne,
Yet till the fatal day I was serene,
Though on the morning I grew wondrous cold.
Then felt I like some infant catching flies
When a large hornet hums within his ken,
Or like a truant when with fearful eyes
He views the upturned rod. So I stared then
Upon the questions in a wild surprise,
Silent, and peakish, chewing at my pen.
Arthur Compton RICKETT 1869_1937
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
____________
On First Looking through Krafft-Ebing's Psychopathia Sexualis
Much have I travelled in those realms of old
Where many a whore in hall-doors could be seen,
Of many a bonnie brothel or shebeen
Which bawds connived at by policemen hold.
I too have listened when the Quay was coaled,
But never did I taste the Pure Obscene –
Mych less imagine that my past was clean –
Till this Kraft-Ebing out his story told.
Then felt I rather taken by surprise
As on the evening when I met Macran,
And retrospective thoughts and doubts did rise –
Was I quite normal when my life began
With loves that leans towards rural sympathies
Potent behind a cart with Mary Ann?
Oliver St John GOGARTY 1878_1957
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
___________
On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
O I had been to sunny Spain
And I had been to Rome,
I’d been to Majorca again and again,
New York was as good as home,
But the scholars they spoke of a golden land
Described by an ancient Greek;
Yet all I got was Blackpool sand
Till I heard Chapman speak.
O he was like a big pools win
Or a dance by Legs and Co.,
O he was as good as an hour of sin
With a hostess in Soho,
And I felt like Cortez when he saw
The sea from a Darien peak –
‘Cos Pope does a lot but Chapman more
[If you can’t read Homer in Greek].
T. GRIFFITHS
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
-----
On first looking into Chapman's Homer
Much have I travelled in East Lothian and Dundee,
Many fine buildings and bridges for to see.
I have even journeyed as far as Arran,
Though sad to say it is rather barren.
Frequently of another expanse had I been told,
Described by Homer, the Greek writer of old.
But only when I read Mr. Chapman’s translation
Did I have a very strong sensation.
An amateur astronomer was what I felt like,
When he sees a new planet or comet late at night;
Or a fat Spaniard who is to become quite famous,
Looking at the sea and wondering what its name is.
Parody John KEATS 1795_1821 – On First Looking into Chapman’s Homer
poem by Jonathan Robin
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On First Looking into Bee Palmer's Shoulders
WITH BOWS TO KEATS AND KEITH'S
["The World's Most Famous Shoulders"]
Then I felt like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken,
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He stared at the Pacific--and all his men
Looked at each other with a wild surmise--
Silent upon a peak in Darien."
"BEE" PALMER has taken the raw human--all too human--stuff of the underworld, with its sighs of sadness and regret, its mad merriment, its swift blaze of passion, its turbulent dances, its outlaw music, its songs of the social bandit, and made a new art product of the theatre. She is to the sources of jazz and the blues what François Villon was to the wild life of Paris. Both have found exquisite blossoms of art in the sector of life most removed from the concert room and the boudoir, and their harvest has the vigour, the resolute life, the stimulating quality, the indelible impress of daredevil, care-free, do-as-you-please lives of the picturesque men and women who defy convention. --From Keith's Press Agent.
Much have I travell'd in the realms of jazz,
And many goodly arms and shoulders seen
Quiver and Quake--if you know what I mean;
I've seen a lot, as everybody has.
Some plaudits got, while others got the razz.
But when I saw Bee Palmer, shimmy queen,
I shook--in sympathy--my troubled bean,
And said, "This is the utter razmatazz."
Then felt I like some patient with a pain
When a new surgeon swims into his ken,
Or like stout Brodie, when, with reeling brain,
He jumped into the river. There and then
I swayed and took the morning train
To Norwalk, Naugatuck, and Darien.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Much have I traveled in the realms of gold, and many goodly states and kingdoms seen.
quote by John Keats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To A Baby.
I.
Two hands that hold the world in fee,
So tender, yet so bold:
Whatever life has now for me,
Two hands that hold.
What magic lies in them enroll'd —
What wondrous alchemy
Transmuting thus life's lead to gold!
Until that thought shall cease to be,
Until my heart is cold,
I'd only clasp (how tenderly!)
Two hands that hold.
II.
Two soft blue eyes whose light has lit
Two hearts, as stars that rise —
Love's lights within the infinite,
Two soft blue eyes.
No fancy may their charm surmise,
But those who have felt it
Breathe as it were in Paradise.
Life's meanings there like shadows flit,
As in a dream's disguise
Two spirits lurked in them — to wit,
Two soft blue eyes.
poem by Robert Crawford
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Ballade Of The Southern Cross
Fair islands of the silver fleece,
Hoards of unsunned, uncounted gold,
Whose havens are the haunts of Peace,
Whose boys are in our quarrel bold;
OUR bolt is shot, our tale is told,
Our ship of state in storms may toss,
But ye are young if we are old,
Ye Islands of the Southern Cross!
Ay, WE must dwindle and decrease,
Such fates the ruthless years unfold;
And yet we shall not wholly cease,
We shall not perish unconsoled;
Nay, still shall Freedom keep her hold
Within the sea's inviolate fosse,
And boast her sons of English mould,
Ye Islands of the Southern Cross!
All empires tumble--Rome and Greece -
Their swords are rust, their altars cold!
For us, the Children of the Seas,
Who ruled where'er the waves have rolled,
For us, in Fortune's books enscrolled,
I read no runes of hopeless loss;
Nor--while YE last--our knell is tolled,
Ye Islands of the Southern Cross!
ENVOY.
Britannia, when thy hearth's a-cold,
When o'er thy grave has grown the moss,
Still Rule Australia shall be trolled
In Islands of the Southern Cross!
poem by Andrew Lang
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Mother Dawn
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn
Mother dawn
Dancing round the fire
Circling the flame
Listen to the shadows calling out my name
They say
Rock me like a baby
Cradle me in the light
Bathe me in a rainbow
Sun restore my sight
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn (all night long yeah)
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me (all night long yeah)
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn
Look into the light
Come and take a journey through the land of night
Darkness strokes the face and
Steals away the sight
Night is all around me
Stars are in my hair
I feel them tangled in the secrets well
Find hidden there all right
Reaching through the madness
To the other side
Where the sun is rising
With her arms held wide
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn (all night long yeah)
(till the dawn light comes)
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me (all night long yeah)
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn (all night long)
(I know youre gonna love me)
(I know youre gonna love me)
One star flew against the tapestry of the night
And the earth revolved in perfect symmetry
To a symphony of sun
The moon danced its final bow
As the birth of day
Exploded
In my eyes
Reaching through the madness
To the other side
Where the sun is rising
With her arms held wide
Rock me like a baby
Cradle me in light
Youre gonna bathe me in a rainbow
And the sun restore my sight
Hold me, hold me
Breathe the light into me
Hold me, hold me
Mother dawn
Hold me, hold me (all night long yeah)
Breathe the light into me
(till the dawn light comes yeah)
Hold me, hold me (all night long yeah)
Mother dawn (I know youre gonna love me yeah)
I know youre
Gonna love me
All night long yeah
Till the dawn light comes
All night long yeah
I know youre gonna love me love me
All night long yeah
Till the dawn light comes
All night long yeah
I know youre gonna love me love me
Mother dawn
song performed by by Billy Idol
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To Apollo
1.
In thy western halls of gold
When thou sittest in thy state,
Bards, that erst sublimely told
Heroic deeds, and sang of fate,
With fervour seize their adamantine lyres,
Whose chords are solid rays, and twinkle radiant fires.
2.
Here Homer with his nervous arms
Strikes the twanging harp of war,
And even the western splendour warms,
While the trumpets sound afar:
But, what creates the most intense surprise,
His soul looks out through renovated eyes.
3.
Then, through thy Temple wide, melodious swells
The sweet majestic tone of Maro's lyre:
The soul delighted on each accent dwells,--
Enraptur'd dwells,--not daring to respire,
The while he tells of grief around a funeral pyre.
4.
'Tis awful silence then again;
Expectant stand the spheres;
Breathless the laurell'd peers,
Nor move, till ends the lofty strain,
Nor move till Milton's tuneful thunders cease,
And leave once more the ravish'd heavens in peace.
5.
Thou biddest Shakespeare wave his hand,
And quickly forward spring
The Passions--a terrific band--
And each vibrates the string
That with its tyrant temper best accords,
While from their Master's lips pour forth the inspiring words.
6.
A silver trumpet Spenser blows,
And, as its martial notes to silence flee,
From a virgin chorus flows
A hymn in praise of spotless Chastity.
'Tis still! Wild warblings from the Aeolian lyre
Enchantment softly breathe, and tremblingly expire.
7.
Next thy Tasso's ardent numbers
Float along the pleased air,
Calling youth from idle slumbers,
Rousing them from Pleasure's lair:--
Then o'er the strings his fingers gently move,
And melt the soul to pity and to love.
8.
But when Thou joinest with the Nine,
And all the powers of song combine,
We listen here on earth:
Thy dying tones that fill the air,
And charm the ear of evening fair,
From thee, great God of Bards, receive their heavenly birth.
poem by John Keats
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The Tree of Liberty
WE’LL PLANT a Tree of Liberty
In the centre of the land,
And round it ranged as guardians be,
A vowed and trusty band;
And sages bold and mighty soul’d
Shall dress it day by day:
But woe unto the traitor who
Would break one branch away.
Then sing the Tree of Liberty
For the vow that we have made;
May it so flourish that when we
Are buried in its shade,
Fair Womanhood and Love and Good,
All pilgrims pure shall go
Its growth to bless for happiness—
O may it flourish so!
Till felled by gold as bards have told,
In the Old World once it grew,
But there its fruits were ever sold
And only to the Few:
But here at last, uncurs’d by caste,
Each man at Nature’s call
Shall pluck as well what none may sell,
The fruit that blooms for All.
By gold ’twas felled as bards have held
In the Old World where it grew,
But here the power that there dispelled
Its life shall be its dew:
The evil bout of Time is out,
And gold no more a thrall,
Shall here but build for Truth and gild
The fruit that blooms for All.
Then sing the Tree of Liberty,
And the men who shall defend
Its glorious future righteously
For this all-glorious end—
That happiness all men to bless
Out with its growth may grow—
Our Southern Tree of Liberty
Shall flourish even so!
poem by Charles Harpur
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The Logical Vegetarian
You will find me drinking rum,
Like a sailor in a slum,
You will find me drinking beer like a Bavarian.
You will find me drinking gin
In the lowest kind of inn,
Because I am a rigid Vegetarian.
So I cleared the inn of wine,
And I tried to climb the sign,
And I tried to hail the constable as “Marion.”
But he said I couldn’t speak,
And he bowled me to the Beak
Because I was a Happy Vegetarian.
Oh, I knew a Doctor Gluck,
And his nose it had a hook,
And his attitudes were anything but Aryan;
So I gave him all the pork
That I had, upon a fork;
Because I am myself a Vegetarian.
I am silent in the Club,
I am silent in the pub,
I am silent on a bally peak in Darien;
For I stuff away for life
Shoving peas in with a knife,
Because I am at heart a Vegetarian.
No more the milk of cows
Shall pollute my private house
Than the milk of the wild mares of the Barbarian;
I will stick to port and sherry,
For they are so very, very
So very, very, very Vegetarian.
poem by G.K. Chesterton (1915)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Twenty-Second Of December
Wild was the day; the wintry sea
Moaned sadly on New-England's strand,
When first the thoughtful and the free,
Our fathers, trod the desert land.
They little thought how pure a light,
With years, should gather round that day;
How love should keep their memories bright,
How wide a realm their sons should sway.
Green are their bays; but greener still
Shall round their spreading fame be wreathed,
And regions, now untrod, shall thrill
With reverence when their names are breathed.
Till where the sun, with softer fires,
Looks on the vast Pacific's sleep,
The children of the pilgrim sires
This hallowed day like us shall keep.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
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Watcher Of The Skies
Watcher of the skies watcher of all
His is a world alone no world is his own,
He whom life can no longer surprise,
Raising his eyes beholds a planet unknown.
Creatures shaped this planets soil,
Now their reign has come to an end,
Has life again destroyed life,
Do they play elsewhere, do they know
More than their childhood games?
Maybe the lizards shed its tail,
This is the end of mans long union with earth.
Judge not this race by empty remains
Do you judge God by his creatures when they are dead?
For now, the lizards shed its tail
This is the end of mans long union with earth.
From life alone to life as one,
Think not now your journeys done
For though your ship be sturdy, no
Mercy has the sea,
Will you survive on the ocean of being?
Come ancient children hear what I say
This is my parting council for you on your way.
Sadly now your thoughts turn to the stars
Where we have gone you know you never can go.
Watcher of the skies watcher of all
This is your fate alone, this fate is your own.
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn To Apollo
GOD of the golden bow,
And of the golden lyre,
And of the golden hair,
And of the golden fire,
Charioteer
Of the patient year,
Where---where slept thine ire,
When like a blank idiot I put on thy wreath,
Thy laurel, thy glory,
The light of thy story,
Or was I a worm---too low crawling for death?
O Delphic Apollo!
The Thunderer grasp'd and grasp'd,
The Thunderer frown'd and frown'd;
The eagle's feathery mane
For wrath became stiffen'd---the sound
Of breeding thunder
Went drowsily under,
Muttering to be unbound.
O why didst thou pity, and beg for a worm?
Why touch thy soft lute
Till the thunder was mute,
Why was I not crush'd---such a pitiful germ?
O Delphic Apollo!
The Pleiades were up,
Watching the silent air;
The seeds and roots in Earth
Were swelling for summer fare;
The Ocean, its neighbour,
Was at his old labour,
When, who---who did dare
To tie for a moment, thy plant round his brow,
And grin and look proudly,
And blaspheme so loudly,
And live for that honour, to stoop to thee now?
O Delphic Apollo!
poem by John Keats
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Open The Door, Homer (1)
by Bob Dylan
Now, there's a certain thing
That I learned from Jim
That he'd always make sure I'd understand
And that is that there's a certain way
That a man must swim
If he expects to live off
Of the fat of the land.
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before.
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before
But I ain't gonna hear it said no more.
Now, there's a certain thing
That I learned from my friend, Mouse
A fella who always blushes
And that is that ev'ryone
Must always flush out his house
If he don't expect to be
Goin' 'round housing flushes.
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before.
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before
But I ain't gonna hear it said no more.
"Take care of all your memories"
Said my friend, Mick
"For you cannot relive them
And remember when you're out there
Tryin' to heal the sick
That you must always
First forgive them."
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before.
Open the door, Homer,
I've heard it said before
But I ain't gonna hear it said no more.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Already There
Seen it all Im already there
Save you books and you pills
I dont need them Im there
You can do anything you want to
All youve got to do is try
I thought my best days had left me
My best years had left me behind
Then I felt them come back (to me)
And all the wild eyes
All the wild eyes no what I mean
It trees cut stars and eyes to heaven
Ill bend them back and bend them again
If my skin looks tired and ol from living
Ill turn right back and live it again
You better pray when the music stops
And youre left alone in your mind
Cause Ill be hearing music till the day I die
Then I heard it turn off
I swear I heard the screams
And all the wild eyes
All the wild eyes no what I mean
Theyre scared theyve lost their dream
They press down on me
You know I thought I was there
Hello high are you?
Yes, well that explains it
Oh you were walking round like some kind of angel
You were walking round like some kind of angel
Hello high are you yes
Well that explains it
Well that explains it
song performed by by Verve
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eyes of Blue
Blue eyes deep like oceans make feelings swim,
Blue eyes wide like skies make hearts float.
Black lashes like deep underwater caves or wide night skies
Draw out deep, wide, blue eyes.
poem by Drew Zoromski
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Steep From A Peak A Fall Deep
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Just like a ball rolling,
Gaining speed.
Eyes open wide as they witness to see...
A clarity that stops their sleeping.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Just like a ball rolling,
Gaining speed.
Eyes open wide as they witness to see.
A clarity that stops their sleeping.
Deceit is wished to be defeated.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Honesty reveals all evils.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
And those of wicked ways.
Try not to look afraid,
But.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.
Deceit is wished to be defeated.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Honesty reveals all evils.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
And those of wicked ways...
Try not to look afraid.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Just like a ball rolling,
Gaining speed.
Eyes open wide as they witness to see...
A clarity that stops their sleeping.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
Steep from a peak a fall,
Deep.
People see this and the creeps.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Watcher
Like a watcher I must listen and see.
But never intervene.
Death of the soul has come over me.
A conscience with a little less stress.
Secrets galore, one time, one place, a person is erased.
Like venom it eats at you inside.
To know and do nothing.
So powerless.
I've become the watcher.
A star collector,
A master of all and none.
What is wrong cant be undone.
With an erie sound and light.
Guidance should be forthright.
But still I hear the whispers of many clouded minds.
Dark are the times.
I've become the watcher.
Distant but so close that i can feel the auras of those who walk the path a little too fast.
An error in judgement call.
To proud to take a chance instead of the fall.
I've become the watcher and yet still I musn't make a move.
For my turns coming.
But till then I must be patient and use the indirect power suggestion.
For any act of aggression would just lead them astray.
And that will never be okay.
So I will be on the front line with my eyes and ears as a watcher.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Open The Door, Homer
Now, theres a certain thing
That I learned from jim
That hed always make sure Id understand
And that is that theres a certain way
That a man must swim
If he expects to live off
Of the fat of the land.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before
But I aint gonna hear it said no more.
Now, theres a certain thing
That I learned from my friend, mouse
A fella who always blushes
And that is that evryone
Must always flush out his house
If he dont expect to be
Goin round housing flushes.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before
But I aint gonna hear it said no more.
Take care of all your memories
Said my friend, mick
For you cannot relive them
And remember when youre out there
Tryin to heal the sick
That you must always
First forgive them.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before.
Open the door, homer,
Ive heard it said before
But I aint gonna hear it said no more.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eudaemon
O happiness, I know not what far seas,
Blue hills and deep, thy sunny realms surround,
That thus in Music's wistful harmonies
And concert of sweet sound
A rumor steals, from some uncertain shore,
Of lovely things outworn or gladness yet in store:
Whether thy beams be pitiful and come,
Across the sundering of vanished years,
From childhood and the happy fields of home,
Like eyes instinct with tears
Felt through green brakes of hedge and apple-bough
Round haunts delightful once, desert and silent now;
Or yet if prescience of unrealized love
Startle the breast with each melodious air,
And gifts that gentle hands are donors of
Still wait intact somewhere,
Furled up all golden in a perfumed place
Within the folded petals of forthcoming days.
Only forever, in the old unrest
Of winds and waters and the varying year,
A litany from islands of the blessed
Answers, Not here . . . not here!
And over the wide world that wandering cry
Shall lead my searching heart unsoothed until I die.
poem by Alan Seeger
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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