Ode for Memorial Day
DONE are the toils and the wearisome marches,
Done is the summons of bugle and drum.
Softly and sweetly the sky overarches,
Shelt'ring a land where Rebellion is dumb.
Dark were the days of the country's derangement,
Sad were the hours when the conflict was on,
But through the gloom of fraternal estrangement
God sent his light, and we welcome the dawn.
O'er the expanse of our mighty dominions,
Sweeping away to the uttermost parts,
Peace, the wide-flying, on untiring pinions,
Bringeth her message of joy to our hearts.
Ah, but this joy which our minds cannot measure,
What did it cost for our fathers to gain!
Bought at the price of the heart's dearest treasure,
Born out of travail and sorrow and pain;
Born in the battle where fleet Death was flying,
Slaying with sabre-stroke bloody and fell;
Born where the heroes and martyrs were dying,
Torn by the fury of bullet and shell.
Ah, but the day is past: silent the rattle,
And the confusion that followed the fight.
Peace to the heroes who died in the battle,
Martyrs to truth and the crowning of Right!
Out of the blood of a conflict fraternal,
Out of the dust and the dimness of death,
Burst into blossoms of glory eternal
Flowers that sweeten the world with their breath.
Flowers of charity, peace, and devotion
Bloom in the hearts that are empty of strife;
Love that is boundless and broad as the ocean
Leaps into beauty and fullness of life.
So, with the singing of paeans and chorals,
And with the flag flashing high in the sun,
Place on the graves of our heroes the laurels
Which their unfaltering valor has won!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Related quotes
Maceo
Maceo dead! a thrill of sorrow
Through our hearts in sadness ran
When we felt in one sad hour
That the world had lost a man.
He had clasped unto his bosom
The sad fortunes of his land --
Held the cause for which he perished
With a firm, unfaltering hand.
On his lips the name of freedom
Fainted with his latest breath.
Cuba Libre was his watchword
Passing through the gates of death.
With the light of God around us,
Why this agony and strife?
With the cross of Christ before us,
Why this fearful waste of life?
Must the pathway unto freedom
Ever mark a crimson line,
And the eyes of wayward mortals
Always close to light divine?
Must the hearts of fearless valor
Fail 'mid crime and cruel wrong,
When the world has read of heroes
Brave and earnest, true and strong?
Men to stay the floods of sorrow
Sweeping round each war-crushed heart;
Men to say to strife and carnage --
From our world henceforth depart.
God of peace and God of nations,
Haste! oh, haste the glorious day
When the reign of our Redeemer
O'er the world shall have its sway.
When the swords now blood encrusted,
Spears that reap the battle field,
Shall be changed to higher service,
Helping earth rich harvests yield.
Where the widow weeps in anguish,
And the orphan bows his head,
Grant that peace and joy and gladness
May like holy angels tread.
Pity, oh, our God the sorrow
Of thy world from thee astray,
Lead us from the paths of madness
Unto Christ the living way.
Year by year the world grows weary
'Neath its weight of sin and strife,
Though the hands once pierced and bleeding
Offer more abundant life.
May the choral song of angels
Heard upon Judea's plain
Sound throughout the earth the tidings
Of that old and sweet refrain.
Till our world, so sad and weary,
Finds the balmy rest of peace --
Peace to silence all her discords --
Peace till war and crime shall cease.
Peace to fall like gentle showers,
Or on parchéd flowers dew,
Till our hearts proclaim with gladness:
Lo, He maketh all things new.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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Peace And Love
Peace and love
Flying so high
Peace and love
Too young to die
Peace and love
Now you decide
Stay for the children
You don't really want to go
Can't feel it pulling like you did
Peace and love
Peace and love
Only a ride
Strength is gone
Dying inside
Tell me now
What did you find
Found love in the people
Livin' in a sacred land
Found love in the people
Peace and love
[Vedder:]
Found love (found ...?)
Saw my mistake
Broke walls of pain to walk again
I saw the dream
I saw the wake
We shared it all
But not the take
Peace and love
Lennon's goodbye
Over Now
Living in time
A broken bell
A nursery rhyme
Deserted by heroes
Strangers in your own land
No way to deny you
No way to deny you
Peace and love
[Vedder:]
I took it all
I took the oath
I took it all
Til I had most
I took what's left
I gave it breath
I had it all once
I gave it back
[solo]
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Peace & Love
Peace and love, flying so high
Peace and love, too young to die
Peace and love, now you decide
Stay for the children
You dont really want to go
Cant feel it pulling like you did, peace and love...
Peace and love, only a ride
Strength is gone, dying inside
Tell me now, what did you find?
Found love in the people
Livin in a sacred land
Found love in the people, peace and love...
Found love...saw my mistake...broke walls of pain to walk again...
I saw the dream, I saw the wake...we shared it all but not the take...
Peace and love, lennons goodbye
Over now, living in time
A broken bell, a nursery rhyme
Deserted by heroes
Strangers in your own land
No way to deny you, to deny you...peace and love...
I took the oath till I had most
I took whats left, I gave it breath
I had it all once I gave it back...gave it back...
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The War After The War
I.
Yonder, with eyes that tears, not distance, dim,
With ears the wide world's thickness cannot daunt,
We see tumultuous miseries that haunt
The night's dead watches, hear the battle hymn
Of ruin shrieking through the music grim,
Where the red spectre straddles, long and gaunt,
Spitting across the seas his hideous taunt
At those who nurse at home the unwounded limb.
What shall we say, who, drawing indolent breath,
Mark the quick pant of those who, full of hate,
Drive home the steel or loose the shrieking shell,
Heroes or Huns, who smite the grin of death
And laugh or curse beneath the blows of fate,
Swept madly to the thudding heart of hell?
II.
O peace, be still! Let no drear whirlwind sweep
Our souls about the vault, that groans or yells
In travail of the brood of Fear, and swells
Stupendous with new monsters of the deep.
This is no day to wring the hands and weep,
No hour for hopeless tolling and clash of bells.
Faith is no faith if god or demon quells
One hope or drugs it to uneasy sleep.
What you have shed man's blood for, fight for still
In world-wide conflict, joining hand with hand;
Hate fear and hatred and the seed thereof,
And, since you have struck for Freedom, do her will
And smash the barriers parting land from land,
Unfaltering armies of immortal love.
poem by John Le Gay Brereton
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Peace and Conflict
Peace is laughter ike a musical bell,
Conflict is people crying,
Peace is everything being well,
Conflit is people dieing,
Peace is a very wonderful thing,
Conflict can be used t pursue peace,
Peace is a sound that makes you sing,
Conflict is the least luxurious thing,
Peace is sought after
And sometimes found,
Confit is punishment,
Paying the price,
Peace is being on safe ground,
Conflict makes people with heart of ice,
Peace you find in your heart,
Conflict tears our minds apart,
So remember these words and you'll live well,
Peace is laughter like a musical bell...
poem by Sasha Julia
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Songs of Battle
Old as the world--no other things so old;
Nay, older than the world, else, how had sprung
Such lusty strength in them when earth was young?--
Stand valor and its passion hot and bold,
Insatiate of battle. How, else, told
Blind men, born blind, that red was fitting tongue
Mute, eloquent, to show how trumpets rung
When armies charged adn battle-flags unfurled?
Who sings of valor speaks for life, for death,
Beyond all death, and long as life is life,
in rippled waves the eternal air hs breath
Eternal bears to stir all noble strife.
Dead Homer from his lost and vanished grave
Keeps battle glorious still and soldiers brave.
poem by Helen Hunt Jackson
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Lexington
Slowly the mist o’er the meadow was creeping,
Bright on the dewy buds glistened the sun,
When from his couch, while his children were sleeping,
Rose the bold rebel and shouldered his gun.
Waving her golden veil
Over the silent dale,
Blithe looked the morning on cottage and spire;
Hushed was his parting sigh,
While from his noble eye
Flashed the last sparkle of liberty’s fire.
On the smooth green where the fresh leaf is springing
Calmly the first-born of glory have met;
Hark! the death-volley around them is ringing!
Look! with their life-blood the young grass is wet
Faint is the feeble breath,
Murmuring low in death,
“Tell to our sons how their fathers have died;â€
Nerveless the iron hand,
Raised for its native land,
Lies by the weapon that gleams at its side.
Over the hillsides the wild knell is tolling,
From their far hamlets the yeomanry come;
As through the storm-clouds the thunder-burst rolling,
Circles the beat of the mustering drum.
Fast on the soldier’s path
Darken the waves of wrath,—Â
Long have they gathered and loud shall they fall;
Red glares the musket’s flash,
Sharp rings the rifle’s crash,
Blazing and clanging from thicket and wall.
Gayly the plume of the horseman was dancing,
Never to shadow his cold brow again;
Proudly at morning the war-steed was prancing,
Reeking and panting he droops on the rein;
Pale is the lip of scorn,
Voiceless the trumpet horn,
Torn is the silken-fringed red cross on high;
Many a belted breast
Low on the turf shall rest
Ere the dark hunters the herd have passed by.
Snow-girdled crags where the hoarse wind is raving,
Rocks where the weary floods murmur and wail,
Wilds where the fern by the furrow is waving,
Reeled with the echoes that rode on the gale;
Far as the tempest thrills
Over the darkened hills,
Far as the sunshine streams over the plain,
Roused by the tyrant band,
Woke all the mighty land,
Girded for battle, from mountain to main.
Green be the graves where her martyrs are lying!
Shroudless and tombless they sunk to their rest,
While o’er their ashes the starry fold flying
Wraps the proud eagle they roused from his nest.
Borne on her Northern pine,
Long o’er the foaming brine
Spread her broad banner to storm and to sun;
Heaven keep her ever free,
Wide as o’er land and sea
Floats the fair emblem her heroes have won.
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
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Three Hours of Darkness
When upon the Cross of Calvary, great darkness fell for all to see,
For three hours upon the land, a darkness many didn’t understand,
That time after Christ was crucified, the time He suffered and died,
A time filled with silence too, when Christ had died for me and you.
Darkness surrounded His death, as He approached His last breath,
Darkness on the land was unfurled, around The Light of The World.
Silence fell on the mocking crowd, whose evil shout was very loud,
As the light scattered the darkness, hearts again, showed hardness.
Upon Christ God placed on Him, the darkened iniquity of man’s sin,
Made to be sin for Adam’s race, upon that cross He took our place,
And God couldn’t look and see, that sin Christ bore for you and me,
So through that dark span of time, God the Father had turned aside.
As Christ was on that bloody stake, the Son, the Father did forsake,
He gave His spirit, at His last breath, to His Father, as He saw death,
The earth quaked, opening graves, and bodies of saints were raised,
And as that Temple Curtain torn, the Age of Grace by God was born.
A soldier with sword and rod, said “surely that was The Son of God.”
The Son of God for all sinners lost, was taken down from the cross,
Thinking of that cross, we must recall, the Lamb of God died for all,
He died upon a bloody stake, so His Resurrection we could partake.
(Copyright ©04/2009)
Peace in Glow
Think of birds with flying colors-
find and feel its immense pleasure,
flying not for any earthly bargain
sky pastures peace, hardly any pain.
Eyes catching up thy show,
peace found in subtle glow!
Sun pops out with silent splash,
spilling red of rinsing paintbrush.
The dawn and dusk palette same hue-
peace newborn pays the end its due.
Minds catching up thy show
peace found in subtle glow!
Buds’ hinting promise of colours
blooming into splendorous flowers
call us all to the peace divine
just to be attuned and be aligned.
Hearts catching up thy show
peace found in subtle glow!
Visions of innocent beauties -
non ephemeral joys in plenty,
cognizance has to be treasured –
precious gifts beyond any measure.
Souls catching up thy show
peace found in subtle glow!
poem by Gautam Sen
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The Power Of Thy Sword
Lord of battle I pray on bended knee conquest by the rising sun
I'll wait for thy command with flame and blood at hand
glory and a broken sword.
I'm the master of the world I have no fear of man or beast
Born inside the soul of the world
Riding hard breaking bone with steel and stone
Eternal might I was born to wield.
Let us drink to the battles we've lived and we've fought
Celebrate the pain and havoc we have wrought
Great heroes charge into the fight
From the north to the south in the black of night
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
Drink to the battles we've lived and we've fought
Celebrate the pain and havoc we have wrought
Great heroes charge into the fight
From the north to the south in the black of night
Fierce is my blade fierce is my hate born to die in battle
I laugh at my fate
Now pay in blood when your blood has been spilled
You're never forgiven death is fulfilled !
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
The clash of honor calls
I will stand when others fall
Open magic doors
The will know the power of my sword
There is blood in my hands there is blood in my eyes
With blood in my voice I scream as you die
Thirsting for vengeance and mounds of the slain
Shaking the forest onto the plain
Fierce is my blade fierce is my hate born to die in battle
I laugh at my fate
Now pay in blood when your blood has been spilled
You're never forgiven death is fulfilled !
The clash of honor calls to stand when others fall
Gods of war feel the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
Know the power of my sword
They will know the power of my sword
song performed by by Manowar from The Triumph Of Steel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(V – 1990) War & Peace
War has stabbed the heart of peace
And peace lies bleeding now –
A peace which was healing slow
The wounds it had suffered hard,
A peace which was recovering
From the mind blowing blows
Of the decades past!
Now the precious blood of that peace is draining
And each dropp of dripping blood
Is singing the songs of savagery
To the frightened ears of civilizations!
Man mastered bombs but now bombs master man!
Man busy growing the world outside
How poor he forgot to grow his inside!
And now when he stands a helpless child
Before the giant of things he grew
Reason comes again and asks
Was this the progress you built through the years
And man has no answer
He just drops into wounds
Wounds inflicted by bullets of arrogance
Of selfishness, hatred, fear and greed!
Oh, these bombs that preach ‘might is right’
Oh, these merciless bloodthirsty bullets –
What answers are they? What justice makes they?
What battle is real than a battle for peace?
What victory, true, when won at the cost of peace? !
Peace was long destroyed on the minds of men
So no peace now remains outside!
Rising from narrow rooms of thought
Man armed with the mortal arms of passion
Smashes the skulls of his brethren
And when upon the fractured bones
And the boiled flesh, cries of anguish fall
And when the hands and limbs of innocents
Lie eaten and bitten by vultures of violence
Their hearts cracking into a fury of pain
And when thick clouds of smoke
Of the smoke of life, rises from the graveyards of war
A tear comes into the eyes of man and time asks:
Hasn’t History taught you anything still?
And man stands dumb!
With all his will and wisdom paralyzed
He searches for peace, for the solace of peace
But peace lies writhing there!
He knows he wants it dearly
The company of peace,
Wounded though he be!
But peace is dying there;
But peace is not dead!
His life lies in our hands
The wounds are many
But many more can be spared!
The wounds are sore
But they can be medicined still!
War is death
But war can be killed!
A Hero Is Born.
A hero is born out of the gutter he comes. The rich plot his death and kingdoms want him gone. A hero is born; out of oppression he came the spark of a change is what he brings. A hero is born; into hate is where he lives, yet he smiles and says I am the way. A hero is born and now the wealthy will cry, for he is a lord in disguise. A hero was born to be a champion of the poor but first he must die so he can be reborn. A hero has come and soon you will cry no more for this hero is the truth and freedom he brings. no matter who or where, you can be free. for the hero I speak of is the one who made me. at all truth I cry and strive in pain but the hero has many names. So my loved ones and all! The little heroes in the sea. Remember he is with you and me. So take heart and war with me fight the good fight and one day we will be one with three.
poem by Gary Manning
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Heroes Live Forever
You are the light that shines in everyone
The truth that's there for all to see
You are the voice that speaks to everyone
You're the heroes we'd all like to be
You live the dreams that lie within our soul
With a passion that cannot be denied
You bring the whole world together as one
And we'll always be by your side
And all the world will join in celebration
And all the world will share the joy you bring
And all the power, the hope and inspiration
In all their glory the nations all will sing
Heroes live forever
Heroes live forever
Always we'll remember
Heroes live forever
Since the dawn of history
(Since the dawn of history)
In searching for our destiny
(In searching for our destiny)
To be the best that we can be
(To be the best that we can be)
Heroes...
Heroes live forever
Heroes live forever
Always we'll remember
Heroes live forever
Heroes live forever
Heroes live forever
Always we'll remember
Heroes live forever...
song performed by by Vanessa Amorosi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Hero
The heroes of the masses they live for their renown
And the masses create their heroes and then drag their heroes down
And the masses are unpredictable they change from day to day
And some of their heroes like the Autumn flowers are quick to fade away.
Yet there are millions of unsung heroes and they live on every street
And every day a hero I feel privileged to meet
True heroes male and female yet by the masses unsung
The World is full of heroes of heroes old and young.
Some heroes of the masses are arrogant and proud
And their egos over-swollen from the adulation of the crowd
But give me the unsung heroes who go their own quiet way
Who out of the kindness of their hearts perform one good deed every day.
Many heroes of the masses are not heroes to me
Though every day I walk the street some true hero I do see
Your hero is chauffeur driven and drinks the most expensive wine
And you can have your hero but your hero isn't mine.
poem by Francis Duggan
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World Poetry Day,2012
Peace is what the world needs fast
Peace is required most
Peace can't come by waging wars
Peace is born through great efforts!
Peace can dwell when love prevails
Peace is the driving force
Peace must last forever to
Keep the world love life firstly
Peace is the priceless wealth much sought
Peace must start from homes
Peace must spread through all nations
And fill hearts and minds of men
Peace is one that brings progress
Peace can bridge differences
Peace is made by dialogues
Peace is the key to world's happiness
Dedicated to ‘World Poetry Day,2012'
Copyright by Dr John Celes 21-03-12
poem by John Celes
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The Boy Patriot
I want to be a Soldier!--
A Soldier!--
A Soldier!--
I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand
Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder,
Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band;
I want to hear, high overhead, The Old Flag flap her wings
While all the Army, following, in chorus cheers and sings;
I want to hear the tramp and jar
Of patriots a million,
As gayly dancing off to war
As dancing a cotillion.
_I want to be a Soldier!_--
_A Soldier!_--
_A Soldier!_--
_I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand_
_Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder_,
_Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band_.
I want to see the battle!--
The battle!--
The battle!--
I want to see the battle, and be in it to the end;--
I want to hear the cannon clear their throats and catch the prattle
Of all the pretty compliments the enemy can send!--
And then I know my wits will go,--and where I _should'nt_ be--
Well, there's the spot, in any fight, that you may search for me.
So, when our foes have had their fill,
Though I'm among the dying,
To see The Old Flag flying still,
I'll laugh to leave her flying!
_I want to be a Soldier!_--
_A Soldier!_--
_A Soldier!_--
_I want to be a Soldier, with a sabre in my hand_
_Or a little carbine rifle, or a musket on my shoulder_,
_Or just a snare-drum, snarling in the middle of the band_.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Peace: not war
Each heart is thriving for peace
Peace!
That every soul seeks
Peace!
That each mind needs
A war torn world with peace nowhere
Crying and mourning everywhere
Poverty spread all over
Sadness in every corner
No love, no peace to bond
But warriors falling to the ground
No time to see someone in peace
No time to be in peace
Let peace prevail everywhere
With love, unity and care
Let peace take war's place and
Make blue days to happy days
Peace and contentment will soar in our hearts
No wars on creed, race or caste because,
Love and peace will fill our hearts.
poem by Sanjana Nagraj
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Out of the…is Born a …
Out of the mire is born a gorgeous flower;
Out of the noise is born a dead silence;
Out of the storm is born, calm!
Out of the strife is born a pleasant life;
Out of the filth is born flora, fauna;
Out of the chaos is born clarity.
Out of the exercise is born a healthy body;
Out of the training is born wisdom;
Out of the learning is born a scholar!
Out of the confession is born a soul afilled with grace;
Out of the Holy Book is born the word of God;
Out of the prayers is born answers from God!
Out of the rain is born the verdure shoots;
Out of the sun is born the growing plants;
Out of the dawn is born a lovely day;
Out of the dusk is born a quiet night!
Out of the hunger is born an appetite;
Out of the dainty food is born satiety;
Out of the wine is born inebriety.
Out of the fasting is born controlled senses;
Out of the inhibition is born a civilized person;
Out of the nature’s furies is born forbearance;
Out of the war is born a newer peace.
Out of the mistakes done is born a new resolve;
Out of the struggle is born a long-lasting freedom;
Out of the perseverance is born an accomplishment.
Out of the light is born a new day on earth;
Out of the night is born a starry sky;
Out of the dark clouds is born an aureole moon.
Out of the boredom is born a life of joy;
Out of the trials, travail is born a mind of steel;
Out of the woes is born a content heart!
Out of the parent’s love is born a loving child;
Out of the love of God is born forgiveness of sins;
Out of the mercy of God is born a soul for heaven!
poem by John Celes
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X’mas
Born was a child in a manger;
Born was the son of God, the Father;
Born was the love of the Maker;
Born was for men, a Redeemer.
Born was a baby boy, a king;
Born was on earth a prophet great;
Born was the love of God in human form;
Born was a Messiah.
Born was a son of a carpenter;
Born was the king of Jews;
Born was the living God as flesh;
Born was a Savior.
Born was a babe, who brought,
Joy and peace to the world;
Born was a babe on a bed of hay,
As angels choirs kept singing on.
Born was the spotless Lamb of God
Who was to die on the cross;
Born was a divine child,
From the Virgin Mary’s womb!
Born was Lord Jesus Christ,
Who paid the price for our sins,
And by His death and resurrection,
Made it possible for sinners too,
To go to Heaven.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-25-2006
poem by John Celes
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Australian Federata
AUSTRALIA! land of lonely lake
And serpent-haunted fen;
Land of the torrent and the fire
And forest-sundered men:
Thou art not now as thou shalt be
When the stern invaders come,
In the hush before the hurricane,
The dread before the drum.
A louder thunder shall be heard
Than echoes on thy shore,
When o’er the blackened basalt cliffs
The foreign cannon roar—
When the stand is made in the sheoaks’ shade
When heroes fall for thee,
And the creeks in gloomy gullies run
Dark crimson to the sea:
When under honeysuckles gray,
And wattles’ swaying gold,
The stalwart arm may strike no more,
The valiant heart is cold—
When thou shalt know the agony,
The fever, and the strife
Of those who wrestle against odds
For liberty and life:
Then is the great Dominion born,
The seven sisters bound,
From Sydney’s greenly wooded port
To lone King George’s Sound—
Then shall the islands of the south,
The lands of bloom and snow,
Forth from their isolation come
To meet the common foe.
Then, only then—when after war
Is peace with honour born,
When from the bosom of the night
Comes golden-sandalled morn,
When laurelled victory is thine,
And the day of battle done,
Shall the heart of a mighty people stir,
And Australia be as one.
poem by James Lister Cuthbertson
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