A Reflection on Lawson's Poems
Seasons bloom and seasons wither; dark or bright, they cannot last.
Must we try with floods of bitter teas to vivify the past?
Vainly chase the brown and broken blossoms blown along the blast?
Shall we scorn the flowers around us - red, or blue, or white as snow -
Flowers giving loads of fragrance unto all the winds that blow
Must we hide our eyes and falter: 'O, the days of long ago!'
Never stop to look behind you, if the blaze of glory there
Blinds you to the splendour stretching round about and everywhere.
True, the past was pleasant, Lawson, but the present is as fair.
I, too, love the days when heroes, seeking treasure, seaward sped;
Days of Drake, when English sailors followed where their leaders led;
Days when Marlowe trod the glowing clouds, that thundered to his tread.
Even then, though, there were cowards, traitors, swindler, 'business men,'
Plot and murder, slave and master, secret sneer, and wounding pen;
And the poets thought the present vile and barren even then.
And their comrades were no better than some modern mates we meet -
Even though they don't go wearing tights and feathers in the street;
And the girls are dear as ever, and their kisses just as sweet.
Sing the present; dropp the drivel of the 'days evanished,' please!
Though you pray until your pants are burst or baggy at the knees,
You can't bid the sun go backward - no, not even ten degrees.
poem by John Le Gay Brereton
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Lover's Quarrels
JOIN hands, my dear, clasp long and close and fast,
Even this present we shall soon call past,
And lay among the unforgotten days,
Not the less loved because they could not last.
Make haste to put our hasty words away,
And hide them with dead leaves of yesterday,
Cast them aside among forgotten things,
Keep the love warm that turns to green life's grey.
Each little thorn that pricks these present hours
Is sure to hide under our memories' flowers,
Till we shall say, turning the dry wreath over,
'How sweet they were--these dear dead days of ours!'
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Old Times
Friend of my youth, let us talk of old times;
Of the long lost golden hours.
When "Winter" meant only Christmas chimes,
And "Summer" wreaths of flowers.
Life has grown old, and cold, my friend,
And the winter now, means death.
And summer blossoms speak all too plain
Of the dear, dead forms beneath.
But let us talk of the past to-night;
And live it over again,
We will put the long years out of sight,
And dream we are young as then.
But you must not look at me, my friend,
And I must not look at you,
Or the furrowed brows, and silvered locks,
Will prove our dream untrue.
Let us sing of the summer, too sweet to last,
And yet too sweet to die.
Let us read tales, from the book of the past,
And talk of the days gone by.
We will turn our backs to the West, my friend,
And forget we are growing old.
The skies of the Present are dull, and gray,
But the Past's are blue, and gold.
The sun has passed over the noontide line
And is sinking down the West.
And of friends we knew in days Lang Syne,
Full half have gone to rest.
And the few that are left on earth, my friend
Are scattered far, and wide.
But you and I will talk of the days
Ere any roamed, or died.
Auburn ringlets, and hazel eyes
Blue eyes and tresses of gold.
Winds joy laden, and azure skies,
Belong to those days of old.
We will leave the Present's shores awhile
And float on the Past's smooth sea.
But I must not look at you, my friend,
And you must not look at me.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Oh Happy Days
Oh happy days,
Everyone likes you.
Oh happy days,
Please stay today.
Oh happy days,
Sweet like honey.
Oh happy days,
loving family ties.
Oh happy days,
Giving us strength.
Oh happy days,
Children out playing.
Oh happy days,
On the green grass.
Oh happy days,
With boundless optimism.
Oh happy days,
I give thanks.
Oh happy days,
Dreaming for more.
Oh happy days,
Warm and bright.
Oh happy days,
Like love eternal.
Oh happy days,
And glad memories.
Oh happy days,
New hope prayers.
Oh happy days,
With smiling faces.
Oh happy days,
Holidays and health.
Oh happy days,
With close friends.
Oh happy days,
Generous and giving.
Oh happy days,
Shiny rainbow dreams.
Oh happy days,
Till the very end.
Oh happy days,
Always and forever.
Amen.
poem by Rowina Mallick
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The Days to Remember
Do you remember the days?
The days of Cinderella wanting to go the ball
The days of the seven dwarfs
The days when you believed in it
I remember those days
The days you held your mother’s hand
The days when you wished on a star
The days you believed that wish would come true
Do you remember the days?
The days of jump rope
The days of secret hand shakes
The days you believed it was just so easy
I remember those days
The days when you would hide and they would seek
The days of spending all day playing ball
The days you thought it would never get hard
We all remember those days
poem by Ambra Milton
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Let’s Be Fools To-Night
We, three men of commerce,
Striving wealth to raise,
See but little promise
In the coming days;
Though our hearts are brittle,
Hardened near to stone,
We can think a little
Of the seasons flown.
Lily days and rose days:
Youthful days so bright;
We were fools in those days,
Let’s be fools to-night.
We, three men of commerce,
Men of business we,
Gave but little promise
Of what we would be
When we wandered urchins—
Foes of law and rule—
Fearing only birchings
And the village school.
Lily days and rose days,
Boyhood’s days so bright;
We were fools in those days,
Let’s be fools to-night.
We, three men of commerce,
Men of business we,
Gave but little promise
Of ability
When we lived in riot;
Never drew the line,
Hating peace and quiet,
Loving maids and wine.
Days when money goes—days
When men’s hearts are right;
We were fools in those days,
Let’s be fools to-night.
We must wear to-morrow
All our worldly marks,
Calm looks for our sorrow,
Stern looks for our clerks,
Who, from trouble shrinking,
Tasting earthly joys,
Hate us, little thinking
Ever we were boys.
Days when kindness flows—days
When men’s hearts are white;
We’ve been wise since those days,
Let’s be fools to-night.
poem by Henry Lawson
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The Old Days
The old days--the far days--
The overdear and fair!--
The old days--the lost days--
How lovely they were!
The old days of Morning,
With the dew-drench on the flowers
And apple-buds and blossoms
Of those old days of ours.
Then was the _real_ gold
Spendthrift Summer flung;
Then was the _real_ song
Bird or Poet sung!
There was never censure then,--
Only honest praise--
And all things were worthy of it
In the old days.
There bide the true friends--
The first and the best;
There clings the green grass
Close where they rest:
Would they were here? No;--
Would _we_ were _there_!...
The old days--the lost days--
How lovely they were!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Days in Red
Days days days in red
In days days days ahead
The sun is in autumn light
And moon of glowing dark
Sky deep and high
Days days days in red
Flowing on hours in night
Where love lost its flight
Once those were alright
Now they no more spark
Days days days in red
In days days days ahead
The sun is in autumn light
Is there a horizon of ignite
Where hours go on by
Days days days in red
Flowing memories at sight
No feeling seems now right
But love's still inside
Come come babe now close abide
Days days days in red
In days days days ahead
The sun is in autumn light
Is there a horizon of ignite
Where hours go on by
Days days days in red
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Never Think Of Past
Never think of past
That might have ended fast
Think of present where everything is absent
You are with your strong body and present
Work for stable future
That may make your side secured
Work hard towards goal and make it sure
Nothing will go wrong and it will reassured
To think of past may be just suicide
The difference remains very wide
The past might be sweet or dark
Yet one must cautiously embark
Past must be kept in mind but for reference
Just to compare with it and take chance
To improve the present at the same time take lessons of the past
Never to look back with pain and confidently last
Past may always remind you of poverty
How were you in those days and feeling very sorry?
How were the pitiful days spent with worry?
Now left with no choice but to go ahead with mission to carry
Some of the strong steps are needed
Some drawback has to be accepted
Yet it should not mar your will power with strong resolve
Self effort with dedication and aim to solve
Leave behind everything and think of glorious tomorrow
Live in present, steer your course and allow
That shall never allow you to go slow
As you were coming with high sprit while lying low
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Waiting
A YOUNG fair girl among her flowers,
And, as to blossoms born in May,
Her morrows still brought sunnier hours
Than made up sunny yesterday.
She did but wait: 'Hope is so sweet;
We love so well, my love and I;
The hours that come, the hours that fleet,
End all in one glad by and by.'
A pale worn woman, scarcely sad,
But tired, like those who, too long pent,
Forget the joy they have not had
Of the free winds, and droop content.
She did but wait: 'Ah, no, to me
The silent hope is never dead;
What are the days that are to be
But part of the dear days long fled?'
He came: 'The wealth we need is mine;
And now?' 'Alas!' she said, 'in vain.
The love I love is noway thine,
I wait who never comes again.
Oh, for my lover of old days,
We two from all the world apart!
I must go lone on earth's bleak ways,
He is not now save in my heart.'
He wed another. She, alone,
Patient and weary, toiled for bread.
And bygone still was never gone,
The silent hope was never dead.
She did but wait: 'I have the past;
The new days live the old days o'er,
And there abides until the last
The by and by that was before.'
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Christmas Past
Oh happy days, the snow fell over-night,
we have a white Christmas in our sight.
Only a few more days and nights,
Christmas will shine bright of white.
Remember those beautiful Christmas Eves,
when we gathered round our colorful trees.
Remember when we caroled down the street,
sang Christmas songs oh so sweet.
Memories are precious let’s not forget,
don’t do anything you might regret.
Christmas is the time of year to share,
to treasure family far and near.
This Christmas with the lights shining bright,
reflecting God’s blanket of white.
Sing sweet songs in memory,
past Christmas’s history.
Written: Dec.14/06
poem by Melvina Germain
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The Battling Days
So, sit you down in a straight-backed chair, with your pipe and your wife content,
And cross your knees with your wisest air, and preach of the ‘days mis-spent;’
Grown fat and moral apace, old man! you prate of the change ‘since then’—
In spite of all, I’d as lief be back in those hard old days again.
They were hard old days; they were battling days; they were cruel at times—but then,
In spite of all, I would rather be back in those hard old days again.
The land was barren to sow wild oats in the days when we sowed our own—
(’Twas little we thought or our friends believed that ours would ever be sown)
But the wild oats wave on their stormy path, and they speak of the hearts of men—
I would sow a crop if I had my time in those hard old days again.
We travel first, or we go saloon—on the planned-out trips we go,
With those who are neither rich nor poor, and we find that the life is slow;
It’s ‘a pleasant trip’ where they cried, ‘Good luck!’ There was fun in the steerage then—
In spite of all, I would fain be back in those vagabond days again.
On Saturday night we’ve a pound to spare—a pound for a trip down town—
We took more joy in those hard old days for a hardly spared half-crown;
We took more pride in the pants we patched than the suits we have had since then—
In spite of all, I would rather be back in those comical days again.
’Twas We and the World—and the rest go hang—as the Outside tracks we trod;
Each thought of himself as a man and mate, and not as a martyred god;
The world goes wrong when your heart is strong—and this is the way with men—
The world goes right when your liver is white, and you preach of the change ‘since then.’
They were hard old days; they were battling days; they were cruel times—but then,
In spite of all, we shall live to-night in those hard old days again.
poem by Henry Lawson
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I Thought, I Think, I Know
Gone are the days,
When i thought love was a myth,
Gone are the days,
When i thought women are the same,
Gone are the days,
When i thought i wont find love again
Gone are the days, so so gone
Here are the days,
When i think love is a gift,
Here are the days
When i think you a blessing,
Here are the days,
When i think these are the days,
The days to love you more
Yet are the days,
To know i will love with doubt,
Yet are the days,
To know you are my wife,
Yet are the days, the days to love,
To care and protect
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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One Of These Days
Wish someone would tell me when
I wont think of you again
Ill get past the emptiness and
Let a little happiness back in
Pretending that you came
Leaves me half way there
One of these one of these days
Ill be completely over you
Heaven knows how long it will take
And one of these one of these days
Ill find somebody wholl love your memories away
One of these days
One of these days
Some how some way
Ever since youve been gone
Time has a way of dragging on and on
Friends drive by for company
But Im not much company for long
Oh ill get past the what was
If I live long enough
One of these one of these days
Ill be completely over you
Heaven knows how long it will take
And one of these one of these days
Ill find somebody wholl love your memories away some way
One of these days
One of these days
Some how some way
One of these one of these days
Ill be completely over you
Heaven knows how long it will take
And one of these one of these days
Ill find somebody wholl love your memories away some way
One of these days
One of these days one of these days
One of these days some how some way
One of these days one of these days
song performed by by LeAnn Rimes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Better Days
There are time in our ives
Where our past touches
The present
Bringing us pleasant
Memories of days past
Hoping that tomorrow
Would never come
For in tomorrow
We realize what we had
Will never be again
Only within the confines
Of our minds does it exists
Not to be held ever again
But only dreamt
So sleep my soul
Take me back tonite
To better days
poem by David Kush
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Where Do We Fit
Same when I left you
Now the same upon return
As your pages flip over
You seem to let them burn
You drink from the bottle
That stole your friend
Your friend
Your friend
Now the seasons
They come and they go
I watch the blossoms
As the bees take their own
I peer through the water
That floods my eyes
My eyes
My eyes
I want you in my life
I feel I need you in my life
But I can't have you
Not tonight
Not these days
Not these days
Not these days
Not these days
I watch our children
As they play in the sand
Speaking those words
That only you can understand
I know inside of you
You feel that they are gold
You know there's time
They are not yet old
They want you in their lives
I feel they need you in their lives
But they can't have you
Not tonight
Not these days
Not these days
Not these days
Not these days
I hope these things
They come alive inside you
And you recognise
I hope these things
They come alive and bite you
In the night
I see you standing with each child
And laughing
As you feed their smiles
I hope these things
They come alive and bite you
In the night
Because we
We need you
In our lives
Because we
We need you
In our lives
Because these days are
These days are nothing
Tell me where do we fit in
These days are
These days are nothing
Tell me where do we fit in
song performed by by Xavier Rudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Do We Fit
Same when I left you
Now the same upon return
As your pages flip over
You seem to let them burn
You drink from the bottle
That stole your friend
Your friend
Your friend
Now the seasons
They come and they go
I watch the blossoms
As the bees take their own
I peer through the water
That floods my eyes
My eyes
My eyes
I want you in my life
I feel I need you in my life
But I can't have you
Not tonight
Not these days
Not these days
Not these days
Not these days
I watch our children
As they play in the sand
Speaking those words
That only you can understand
I know inside of you
You feel that they are gold
You know there's time
They are not yet old
They want you in their lives
I feel they need you in their lives
But they can't have you
Not tonight
Not these days
Not these days
Not these days
Not these days
I hope these things
They come alive inside you
And you recognise
I hope these things
They come alive and bite you
In the night
I see you standing with each child
And laughing
As you feed their smiles
I hope these things
They come alive and bite you
In the night
Because we
We need you
In our lives
Because we
We need you
In our lives
Because these days are
These days are nothing
Tell me where do we fit in
These days are
These days are nothing
Tell me where do we fit in
song performed by by Xavier Rudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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These Are The Days
Ah ah
Heres a song
About living in the past
If it was so good then
How come it didnt last?
If it helps you
Ill put it in a phrase
Those were the times
But these are the days
These are the days
These are the days
These are the days
These are the days
These are the days
The times youre smiling back on
Had that great sitcom
It hardly compensated
For the terror of the bomb
Let me help
cause youre looking through a haze
Those were the times
These are the days
These are the days
Hey hey hey
These are the days
Can you hear me now?
These are the days
Look around look around look around
These are the days
These are the days
Hey hey live today
These are the days
Its time to put the past away
These are the days
The more you do the more you say
These are the days
The more I need to get away
Youre longing for a time
There never was
Now tell me the truth
Youre looking for the reason
Its because
Youre fighting for youth
But if I have to listen any more
To fantasy talk
Or any other bug you have
Im leaving
Now Im not saying
Everything is really great
Hey hey hey
After sixteen years
Of legalised class hate
Why waste time
Looking back for things to praise?
Those were the times huh
But these are the days
These are the days
Looking back in history
These are the days
Time to get contempory
These are the days
The past is not the place to be
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Magıc of Spring
Winter,
suddenly turned
to spring.
Flowers
burst into
bloom.
Lilacs
in the
mornng
Fragrance
filled my
room
The magic
of spring
was
present
Of sunny
days to
tell
It's entrance
severed my
yearnngs
I remember
well.
poem by Heather Burns
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Leave-Taking
Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear.
Let us go hence together without fear;
Keep silence now, for singing-time is over,
And over all old things and all things dear.
She loves not you nor me as all we love her.
Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear,
She would not hear.
Let us rise up and part; she will not know.
Let us go seaward as the great winds go,
Full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
There is no help, for all these things are so,
And all the world is bitter as a tear.
And how these things are, though ye strove to show,
She would not know.
Let us go home and hence; she will not weep.
We gave love many dreams and days to keep,
Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow,
Saying 'If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap.'
All is reaped now; no grass is left to mow;
And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep,
She would not weep.
Let us go hence and rest; she will not love.
She shall not hear us if we sing hereof,
Nor see love's ways, how sore they are and steep.
Come hence, let be, lie still; it is enough.
Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep;
And though she saw all heaven in flower above,
She would not love.
Let us give up, go down; she will not care.
Though all the stars made gold of all the air,
And the sea moving saw before it move
One moon-flower making all the foam-flowers fair;
Though all those waves went over us, and drove
Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair,
She would not care.
Let us go hence, go hence; she will not see.
Sing all once more together; surely she,
She too, remembering days and words that were,
Will turn a little toward us, sighing; but we,
We are hence, we are gone, as though we had not been there.
Nay, and though all men seeing had pity on me,
She would not see.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Let Us Go
Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear.
Let us go hence together without fear;
Keep silence now, for singing-time is over,
And over all old things and all things dear.
She loves not you nor me as all we love her.
Yea, though we sang as angels in her ear,
She would not hear.
Let us rise up and part; she will not know.
Let us go seaward as the great winds go,
Full of blown sand and foam; what help is here?
There is no help, for all these things are so,
And all the world is bitter as a tear.
And how these things are, though ye strove to show,
She would not know.
Let us go home and hence; she will not weep.
We gave love many dreams and days to keep,
Flowers without scent, and fruits that would not grow,
Saying 'If thou wilt, thrust in thy sickle and reap.'
All is reaped now; no grass is left to mow;
And we that sowed, though all we fell on sleep,
She would not weep.
Let us go hence and rest; she will not love.
She shall not hear us if we sing hereof,
Nor see love's ways, how sore they are and steep.
Come hence, let be, lie still; it is enough.
Love is a barren sea, bitter and deep;
And though she saw all heaven in flower above,
She would not love.
Let us give up, go down; she will not care.
Though all the stars made gold of all the air,
And the sea moving saw before it move
One moon-flower making all the foam-flowers fair;
Though all those waves went over us, and drove
Deep down the stifling lips and drowning hair,
She would not care.
Let us go hence, go hence; she will not see.
Sing all once more together; surely she,
She too, remembering days and words that were,
Will turn a little toward us, sighing; but we,
We are hence, we are gone, as though we had not been there.
Nay, and though all men seeing had pity on me,
She would not see.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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