A Sentiment Offered At The Dinner To H. I. H. The Prince Napoleon
AT THE REVERE HOUSE,
SEPTEMBER 25,1861
THE land of sunshine and of song!
Her name your hearts divine;
To her the banquet's vows belong
Whose breasts have poured its wine;
Our trusty friend, our true ally
Through varied change and chance
So, fill your flashing goblets high,--
I give you, VIVE LA FRANCE!
Above our hosts in triple folds
The selfsame colors spread,
Where Valor's faithful arm upholds
The blue, the white, the red;
Alike each nation's glittering crest
Reflects the morning's glance,--
Twin eagles, soaring east and west
Once more, then, VIVE LA FRANCE!
Sister in trial! who shall count
Thy generous friendship's claim,
Whose blood ran mingling in the fount
That gave our land its name,
Till Yorktown saw in blended line
Our conquering arms advance,
And victory's double garlands twine
Our banners? VIVE LA FRANCE!
O land of heroes! in our need
One gift from Heaven we crave
To stanch these wounds that vainly bleed,--
The wise to lead the brave!
Call back one Captain of thy past
From glory's marble trance,
Whose name shall be a bugle-blast
To rouse us! VIVE LA FRANCE!
Pluck Conde's baton from the trench,
Wake up stout Charles Martel,
Or find some woman's hand to clench
The sword of La Pucelle!
Give us one hour of old Turenne,--
One lift of Bayard's lance,--
Nay, call Marengo's Chief again
To lead us! VIVE LA FRANCE!
Ah, hush! our welcome Guest shall hear
But sounds of peace and joy;
No angry echo vex thine ear,
Fair Daughter of Savoy
Once more! the land of arms and arts,
Of glory, grace, romance;
Her love lies warm in all our hearts
God bless her! VIVE LA FRANCE!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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The World's Musqueteer: To Marshal Foch
(_Ballade a double refrain_)
Marshal of France, yet still the Musqueteer,
Comrade at arms, on your bronzed cheek we press
The soldier's kiss, and drop the soldier's tear;
Brother by brother fought we in the stress
Of the locked steel, all the wild work that fell
For our reluctant doing; we that stormed hell
And smote it down together, in the sun
Stand here once more, with all our fighting done,
Garlands upon our helmets, sword and lance
Quiet with laurel, sharing the peace they won:
Soldier that saved the world in saving France.
Soldier that saved the world in saving France,
France that was Europe's dawn when light was none,
Clear eyes that with eternal vigilance
Pierce through the webs in nether darkness spun,
Soul of man's soul, his sentinel upon
The ramparts of the world: Ah! France, 'twas well
This soldier with the sword of Gabriel
Was yours and ours in all that dire duresse,
This soldier, gentle as a child, that here
Stands shy and smiling 'mid a world's caress--
Marshal of France, yet still the Musqueteer.
Marshal of France, yet still the Musqueteer,
True knight and succourer of the world's distress
His might and skill we laurel, but more dear
Our soldier for that 'parfit gentlenesse'
That ever in heroic hearts doth dwell,
That soul as tranquil as a vesper bell,
That glory in him that would glory shun,
Those kindly eyes alive with Gascon fun,
D'Artagnan's brother--still the old romance
Runs in the blood, thank God! and still shall run:
Soldier that saved the world in saving France.
ENVOI
Soldier that saved the world in saving France,
Foch, to America's deep heart how near;
Betwixt us twain shall never come mischance.
Warrior that fought that war might disappear,
Far and for ever far the unborn year
That turns the ploughshare back into the spear--
But, must it come, then Foch shall lead the dance:
Marshal of France, yet still the Musqueteer.
poem by Richard Le Gallienne
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Vive La France!
With echoing effect colourful bon-fires were burning
To celebrate National Day of France in Pondicherry
That kept the crowd in the beach spell bound for long!
The erstwhile colony of France is this French town
Full of European architectural beauty and green park
People like to enjoy by cosmopolitan culture forever!
Most civilised country in the world France preached
Democracy by the famous slogans of Rousseau like
Liberty, Equality and Fraternity India cherishes most!
Bon ami of French culture and international brotherhood
Of India keep both the countries natural friends forever
Flourishing humanism as an example to all world nations!
Vive la France French nationals along with Indians say
To strength the bond between two bon ami forever and ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Dear Motherland Of France
DEDICATED TO THE MEN AND WOMEN OF FRANCE
Our Motherland, dear Motherland,
The source of beauty and of Art,
Who but thy children understand
The love which permeates each heart!
We see, through rainbow-tints of tears,
Thy glory of a thousand years.
O country of the Great and Free,
We live for thee, we live for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
O Motherland, both blithe and brave,
What magic lies in thy name-France!
Yet can thy radiant mien be grave,
And stern thy ever-smiling glance.
And when thy sons and daughters know
That enemies would lay thee low
And dim thy fame on land and sea,
We fight for thee, we fight for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
Dear Motherland of joy and mirth,
Dear Motherland of faith divine,
A thousand years the wondering earth
Has seen thy star in splendour shine.
Still shall it see that star of France
Its splendour and its light enhance.
Dear Motherland, when it need be
We die for thee, we die for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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L Pour a
Pense moi la prochaine fois que
tu entendras la rumeur des vagues
et si elles te disent que tu m'as fait
que du mal, t'en fait pas
j'suis l pour a
la mer connait pas le fil du temps
qui nous rapproche et nous spare
vive la mare haute et vive la basse
mais surtout vive la difference
j'suis l pour a
laisse couler le bateau
oublie tes moeurs
laisse toi aller et n'ai pas peur
les mecs c'est des salauds mais peut-tre pas tous
remplis ton verre et a nos amours
j'suis l pour a
song performed by by Nada Surf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jeanne d'Arc Returns
1914-1916
What hast thou done, O womanhood of France,
Mother and daughter, sister, sweetheart, wife,
What hast thou done, amid this fateful strife,
To prove the pride of thine inheritance
In this fair land of freedom and romance?
I hear thy voice with tears and courage rife,--
Smiling against the swords that seek thy life,--
Make answer in a noble utterance:
"I give France all I have, and all she asks.
Would it were more! Ah, let her ask and take:
My hands to nurse her wounded, do her tasks,--
My feet to run her errands through the dark,--
My heart to bleed in triumph for her sake,--
And all my soul to follow thee, Jeanne d'Arc!"
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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The Trust
To you, O Sœr Therèse of Lisieux,
Fresh as a morning rose in morning dew,
We give our men in keeping:
Watch them waking, watch them sleeping.
Lest our hearts should break, O keep trust and be true!
The old saints are beset with many prayers;
The knees of centuries have worn their stairs.
But you, O little nun,
Heaven's youngest, littlest one,
You are strong to lift our burdens and our cares.
Your childish hands have roses pink and pale
That climb the trellises of Heaven and trail.
Shake your roses down before them,
Your dear heart be sorry for them,
Keep them safe within the shadow of your veil.
You lift hands for France -- O lift them heaven-high,
For those who fight with France, who bleed and die.
Pluck the robe of Heaven, O Dear,
So the Heart of Heaven may hear,
That never yet was hardened to your cry!
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Jeanne d'Arc
The land was broken in despair,
The princes quarrelled in the dark,
When clear and tranquil, through the troubled air
Of selfish minds and wills that did not dare,
Your star arose, Jeanne d'Arc.
O virgin breast with lilies white,
O sun-burned hand that bore the lance,
You taught the prayer that helps men to unite,
You brought the courage equal to the fight,
You gave a heart to France!
Your king was crowned, your country free,
At Rheims you had your soul's desire:
And then, at Rouen, maid of Domremy,
The black-robed judges gave your victory
The martyr's crown of fire.
And now again the times are ill,
And doubtful leaders miss the mark;
The people lack the single faith and will
To make them one, -- your country needs you still, --
Come back again, Jeanne d'Arc!
O woman-star, arise once more
And shine to bid your land advance:
The old heroic trust in God restore,
Renew the brave, unselfish hopes of yore,
And give a heart to France!
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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La Por Ca
Pense a moi la prochaine fois que
Tu entendra la rumeur des vagues
Et si elles te disent que tu mas fait
Que du mal, ten fais pas
Jsuis la pour ca
La mer connait pas le fil du temps
Qui nous rapproche et nous separe
Vive la maree haute et vive la basse
Mais surtout vive la difference
Jsuis la pour ca
Jsuis la pour ca
Jsuis la pour ca
Laisse couler le bateau
Oublie tes moeurs
Laisse-toi aller et nai pas peur
Les mecs cest des salauds
mais peut-etre pas tous
remplis ton verre et a nos amours
[repeat 1 ]
jsuis la pour ca
[repeat]
song performed by by Nada Surf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Child With No Soul
El niño sin alma
Vive aislado
Vive una mentira
Inocencia perdida
Una vida pasajera...
Child with no soul
Living in isolation
Living a lie
Lost innocence
Life passing by...
© 2010 by john Martinez hulsey
poem by John Hulsey
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The Spirit Of Great Joan
Back of each soldier who fights for France,
Aye, back of each woman and man
Who toils and prays through these long tense days.
Is the spirit of Great Joan.
For the love she gave, and the life she gave,
In the eyes of God sufficed
To crown her with light, and power, and might,
That made her second to Christ.
And so in that hour at the Marne she came,
To the seeing eyes of men;
And the blind of view still felt and knew
That her spirit had come again.
And she will come in each crucial hour
And joy shall follow despair,
For Joan sees her France on its knees
And she hears the voice of its prayer.
There is no hate in the heart of France,
But a mighty moral force
That takes its stand for her worshipped land,
And cannot be swerved from its course.
For this is the way with France to-day,
Her courage comes from faith,
And she bends her knee ere she straightens her arm;
In her forward rush toward death.
A jungle of beasts in the heart of the Hun-
War to the world laid bare.
And war has revealed, that France concealed,
Only the lion's lair.
A lioness fighting to save her own,
She fights as a lioness can,
And strength to the end shall the Unseen send,
In the spirit of Great Joan.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Napoleon's Farewell (From The French)
I.
Farewell to the Land where the gloom of my Glory
Arose and o'ershadow'd the earth with her name--
She abandons me now--but the page of her story,
The brightest or blackest, is fill'd with my fame.
I have warr'd with a world which vanquish'd me only
When the meteor of conquest allured me too far;
I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely,
The last single Captive to millions in war.
II.
Farewell to thee, France! when thy diadem crown'd me,
I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth,
But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee,
Decay'd in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth.
Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted
In strife with the storm, when their battles were won
Then the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was lasted,
Had still soar'd with eyes fix'd on victory's sun!
III.
Farewell to thee, France!--but when Liberty rallies
Once more in thy regions, remember me then,
The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys;
Though wither'd, thy tear will unfold it
Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us,
And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice
There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us,
Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice!
The Name of France
Give us a name to fill the mind
With the shining thoughts that lead mankind,
The glory of learning, the joy of art, --
A name that tells of a splendid part
In the long, long toil and the strenuous fight
Of the human race to win its way
From the feudal darkness into the day
Of Freedom, Brotherhood, Equal Right, --
A name like a star, a name of light.
I give you France!
Give us a name to move the heart
With a warmer glow and a swifter flood, --
A name like the sound of a trumpet, clear,
And silver-sweet, and iron-strong,
That calls three million men to their feet,
Ready to march, and steady to meet
The foes who threaten that name with wrong, --
A name that rings like a battle-song.
I give you France!
Give us a name to move the heart
With the strength that noble griefs impart,
A name that speaks of the blood outpoured
To save minkind from the sway of the sword, --
A name that calls on the world to share
In the burden of sacrificial strife
Where the cause at stake is the world's free life
Andthe rule of the people everywhere, --
A name like a vow, a name like a prayer.
I give you France!
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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Now Art has lost its mental Charms
Now Art has lost its mental Charmst
France shall subdue the World in Arms
So spoke an Angel at my birth
Then said Descend thou upon Earth
Renew the Arts on Britains Shore
And France shall fall down and adore
With works of Art their Armies meet
And War shall sink beneath thy feett
But if thy Nation Arts refuse
And if they scorn the immortal Muse
France shall the arts of Peace restore
And save thee from the Ungrateful shoret
Spirit who lovst Brittannias Islet
Round which the Fiends of Commerce smilet
[unfinished]
[Dedication to Blake's Illustrations to Blair's Grave, printed 1808]
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Theirs
I.
Fate summoned, in gray-bearded age, to act
A history stranger than his written fact,
Him who portrayed the splendor and the gloom
Of that great hour when throne and altar fell
With long death-groan which still is audible.
He, when around the walls of Paris rung
The Prussian bugle like the blast of doom,
And every ill which follows unblest war
Maddened all France from Finistere to Var,
The weight of fourscore from his shoulders flung,
And guided Freedom in the path he saw
Lead out of chaos into light and law,
Peace, not imperial, but republican,
And order pledged to all the Rights of Man.
II.
Death called him from a need as imminent
As that from which the Silent William went
When powers of evil, like the smiting seas
On Holland's dikes, assailed her liberties.
Sadly, while yet in doubtful balance hung
The weal and woe of France, the bells were rung
For her lost leader. Paralyzed of will,
Above his bier the hearts of men stood still.
Then, as if set to his dead lips, the horn
Of Roland wound once more to rouse and warn,
The old voice filled the air! His last brave word
Not vainly France to all her boundaries stirred.
Strong as in life, he still for Freedom wrought,
As the dead Cid at red Toloso fought.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Dreams of France
Oh, dreams of France! Oh, faded dreams of France!
Ohm France, that I had ever dreamed of thee!
I thought to help thee bear thy brandished lance,
But, lo, I sail the blue Aegean sea!
Sweet thought of thee sill stand before mine eyes
While I lie fettered in this stagnant cage;
Unseen by me the golden Grecian skies,
Forgotten is the Grecian Golden Age.
Drear and dank this stale Ionian bark,
That plods its path alone Aegean ways.
Could I but see old Homer, tall and dark,
And hear the battle-laughter of his lays!
Farewell, oh France! Farewell, thou tortured West!
Bear strong thy shield above thine outraged breast.
poem by Leon Gellert
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To The Men Of Kent
OCTOBER 1803
VANGUARD of Liberty, ye men of Kent,
Ye children of a Soil that doth advance
Her haughty brow against the coast of France,
Now is the time to prove your hardiment!
To France be words of invitation sent!
They from their fields can see the countenance
Of your fierce war, may ken the glittering lance
And hear you shouting forth your brave intent.
Left single, in bold parley, ye, of yore,
Did from the Norman win a gallant wreath;
Confirmed the charters that were yours before;--
No parleying now! In Britain is one breath;
We all are with you now from shore to shore:--
Ye men of Kent, 'tis victory or death!
poem by William Wordsworth
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France on its own cannot impose its point of view. But neither should it give up on its demands. With a clear vote for change France will be in a strong position.
quote by Laurent Fabius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Having viewed Europe as an extension and projection of itself, France now finds Europe developing a mind and identity of its own which embraces France but is not controlled by France.
quote by Peter Mandelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Armistice Day (1953)
Don't jeer because we celebrate
Armistice Day,
Though thirty years of sorry fate
Have passed away.
Though still we gaurd the Sacred Flame,
And fly the Flag,
That World War Two with grief and shame
Revealed--a rag.
For France cannot defend to-day
Her native land;
And she is far to proud to pray
For helping hand.
Aye, though she stands amid the Free,
In love with life,
No more her soil will shambles be
In world-war strife.
Still we who tend the deathless Flame
Of Verdun speak;
It is our glory and our shame,
For we are weak.
We have too much of blood and blight
To answer for . . .
No, France will never, never fight
Another war!
poem by Robert William Service
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Lost In France
(ronnie scott/steve wolfe)
Producers for bonnie: david mackay, ronnie scott, steve wolfe
I was lost in france
In the fields the birds were singing
I was lost in france
And the day was just beginning
As I stood there in the morning rain
I had a feeling I cant explain
I was lost in france in love
I was lost in france
In the street a band was playing
And the crowd all danced
Didnt catch what they were saying
When I looked up he was standing there
And I knew I shouldnt but I didnt care
I was lost in france in love
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
I was lost in france
And the vines were over-flowing
I was lost in france
And a million stars were glowing
And I looked round for a telephone
To say baby I wont be home
I was lost in france in love
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
And I looked round for a telephone
To say baby I wont be home
I was lost in france in love
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing...out
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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