The Sundowner.
So He will at the last, too, gather all,
As in the bush a traveller for his fire
Sticks and dry leaves, as eerie the light fades;
Till from those sticks and leaves there comes a flame,
Beside which in a weird infinity
The man will sit and gather lonely thoughts.
So He will at the last, too, gather all,
The great Sundowner in a painless sphere.
poem by Robert Crawford
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Related quotes
A Coronal
WITH HIS SONGS AND HER DAYS TO HIS LADY AND TO LOVE
Violets and leaves of vine,
Into a frail, fair wreath
We gather and entwine:
A wreath for Love to wear,
Fragrant as his own breath,
To crown his brow divine,
All day till night is near.
Violets and leaves of vine
We gather and entwine.
Violets and leaves of vine
For Love that lives a day,
We gather and entwine.
All day till Love is dead,
Till eve falls, cold and gray,
These blossoms, yours and mine,
Love wears upon his head,
Violets and leaves of vine
We gather and entwine.
Violets and leaves of vine,
For Love when poor Love dies
We gather and entwine.
This wreath that lives a day
Over his pale, cold eyes,
Kissed shut by Proserpine,
At set of sun we lay:
Violets and leaves of vine
We gather and entwine.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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We Gather Together...
We Gather Together...
We gather together...
...for there is strength in your name
We gather together...
...to rekindle the flame
We gather together...
...Your kingdom we claim
We gather together...
...Your words we proclaim
15 Jan 2008
My Bonfire
After this I gather a wooden stick collection,
Burning the sticks of wooden nature.
A fire has rudely devoured the flesh of my world,
The later periods have contrived a short pause.
Please do not desist this activity, when you gather wood,
For my father has been the future, living like warmth
And this fire is within the layers to bind it,
The soul is mighty with grief, the soul has cancer
Of the brain, as for this world.
The fire has risen into the sky, like it is a bonfire
For all to see and imagine, for my father loved the sky
At night when the wooden sticks were burnt
To remind him of the variety of afterlife.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Bonfire
stoke the fire!
sticks of prejudice
and hatred...
sticks of greed
and apathy.
sticks of profit
and loss....
sticks of capitalism,
and oil....
sticks of guns,
and patriotism.
sticks of sexual abuse
and addiction...
sticks of oppression,
and slavery....
stoke the fire!
build it up till
it's all gone....
maybe we'll find
...tomorrow..
in the ashes!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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MacGregor's Gathering
The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,
And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day;
Then gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Our signal for fight, that from monarchs we drew,
Must be heard but by night in our vengeful haloo!
Then haloo, Grigalach! haloo, Grigalach!
Haloo, haloo, haloo, Grigalach!
Glen Orchy's proud mountains, Coalchuirn and her towers,
Glenstrae and Glenlyon no longer are ours;
We're landless, landless, landless, Grigalach!
Landless, landless, landless, Grigalach!
But doom'd and devoted by vassal and lord,
MacGregor has still both his heart and his sword!
Then courage, courage, courage, Grigalach!
Courage, courage, courage, Grigalach!
If they rob us of name, and pursue us with beagles,
Give their roofs to the flame, and their flesh to the eagles!
Then vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Grigalach!
Vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Grigalach!
While there's leaves in the forest, and foam on the river,
MacGregor despite them, shall flourish for ever!
Come then Grigalach, come then Grigalach,
Come then, come then, come then Grigalach!
Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed shall career,
O'er the peak of Ben Lomond the galley shall steer,
The rocks of Craig-Royston like icicles melt,
Ere our wrongs be forgot, or our vengeance unfelt!
Then gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
Gather, gather, gather Grigalach!
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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The Last Assembly
As I walked to the last assembly,
There were tears in the back of my eyes,
And I saw all my friends all around me,
They were there to wish me goodbye.
As I stood in a line with my comrades,
I felt such a feeling of pride,
And I forgot all the grief and the hatred inside,
As we sang for the very last time.
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
Come and join our last assembly,
Let us smile, wipe away all the frowns.
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
As we stood at the last assembly,
All my friends came to wish me goodbye.
Gather round, gather round,
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
As I stand at the last assembly,
I just cant keep the tears from my eyes.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why We Fight pt 1 (Lock and Load)
You’ve walked out the garden and watched your hands go
From picking up berries to picking up ammo
The same sticks and twigs that build up your village
Fight off the conquers and plunders and pillage//
-Stones and sticks and sticks and stones
Gather them up to protect your home
And when needed use them on some bones
Lay them all down to outline your zone
Raise them and burn them on your throne
Monsters can’t outrun the sticks and stones-
Sharpen your spears to take down your dinner
You and the beast can’t both be the winner
It’s about time you got out of this slump
Load up your brains to outsmart the hunt
poem by P.R. Prosper
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At the River
Shall we gather at the river,
Where bright angel feet have trod,
With its crystal tide for ever flowing
by the throne of God?
Gather at the river!
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river,
Yes well gather at the river
that flows by the throne of God.
Shall we gather? Shall we gather at the river?
poem by Robert Wadsworth Lowry
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Like A Mango Tree
like a mango tree bearing so many fruits
this month of May
the unruly children gather around
with stones and sticks
and beat each branch
and both the young and
mature fruits fall
without a careful
segregation
what a waste!
the moral lesson is:
do not be too fruitful, just be leaves and twigs.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Praise Of Henna
A KOKILA called from a henna-spray:
Lira! liree! Lira! liree!
Hasten, maidens, hasten away
To gather the leaves of the henna-tree.
Send your pitchers afloat on the tide,
Gather the leaves ere the dawn be old,
Grind them in mortars of amber and gold,
The fresh green leaves of the henna-tree.
A kokila called from a henna-spray:
Lira! liree! Lira! liree!
Hasten maidens, hasten away
To gather the leaves of the henna-tree.
The tilka's red for the brow of a bride,
And betel-nut's red for lips that are sweet;
But, for lily-like fingers and feet,
The red, the red of the henna-tree.
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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When the tree falls every one runs to gather sticks.
The Gold And Beyond
On a snow crystal morning
Some place close to heaven
On the side of a mountain
In a race for the sun
In a matter of moments
The dream of a lifetime is won
There's a fire in the heart
And it feels like the hunger
The spirit is burning
Consumed by the flame
To be one of the best
Of the best in the world
Is its name
To go faster and farther
Than anyone ever before
To be braver and stronger
And truer than ever before
To be all that you can be
And all that you've ever longer for
In the eyes of the mountain
All people are equal
In the eyes of all people
Our souls can be seen
In the course of our struggle
We'll know what humanity means
To be all that you can be
And all that you've ever longed for
We gather together
To face one another
We gather in silence
And sing for the sun
We gather in peace
To go for the gold and beyond
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Ellen To Play Fun Sticks With You.
What a love and joy to see you,
Your blond hair shines in the sun,
Your smile doth capture my heart strings,
We are going to have such fun
Gran dad walkies you say to me,
As you tightly hold my hand,
Let’s go play hide and seek,
Under this tree I will count and stand,
A bridge over the stream in the wood let’s look,
I will gather some twigs for Fun sticks we will play,
We both throw our Fun sticks into the brook,
Whose twig will be first under the bridge this way?
Such fun and so delightful,
We have had such a lovely day,
We are so exhausted,
And you are so tired and need your sleep,
I feel we are so lucky,
To have a grand daughter like you,
And also such a daughter,
Who made sure we got to know you,
Such a love so overwhelming,
So sure so strong so true,
One thing I will always remember,
Is when I played Fun Sticks with you?
(Ref Winnie the Pooh)
poem by Anthony Foster
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Beautiful River
And he showed me a pure River of Water of Life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the Throne of God and of the Lamb." -- Rev. xxii. 1
Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angel feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
CHORUS.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the margin of the river,
Washing up its silver spray,
We will walk and worship ever,
All the happy, golden day.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
On the bosom of the river,
Where the Saviour-king we own,
We shall meet, and sorrow never
'Neath the glory of the throne. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Ere we reach the shining river,
Lay we every burden down;
Grace our spirits will deliver,
And provide a robe and crown. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
At the smiling of the river,
Rippling with the Saviour's face,
Saints, whom death will never sever,
Lift their songs of saving grace. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Soon we'll reach the shining river,
Soon our pilgrimage will cease,
Soon our happy hearts will quiver
With the melody of peace. Cho.
Yes, we'll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river --
Gather with the saints at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
poem by Robert Wadsworth Lowry
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Wind, Light, Leaves and Men
wind
leaves
they dance
with each other
they carress too
you hear the sound
of their love making
each time they meet
light joins in
to enrich the dance
and become one entity - laugh
louder than the sea
leaves - they are the dream of
wind and light comes true
wind, light, leaves
whenever they gather
men, animals join in their fun
take away one
and the world cries to an end
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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No winter can chill
Grey clouds gather in the sky
with the promise
of some more rain,
but my sunshine is gone
and your smile
falls somewhere else.
How I wish to share
this early winter with you,
to gather your auburn hair
in my hands,
to shelter against the cold
and hold you close
and get a tender kiss,
but the falling red-brown leaves
has an own reality
of the distance between you and me
and still no winter
can chill what lies
between us.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The View At The Top
it is 3000 steps from the
ground. You begin climbing
on an early morning
when the grass are still
rich with dew
and then the sun
starts to shine and then
the birds start to gather
the sweet sap of the
fruit with their
tiny, and long, black beaks
along the way.
it is not strange to see
a variety of colored
butterflies hovering
from one flower to
another. They too
gather the nectar
from the wildflowers
along the way.
you climb slowly
each cemented stair
of this old shrine
you tackle each
station of the cross
of this catholic rite.
finally at noon you
reach the top and
see the whole of the
city below.
a river winds like a
snake.It is the same river
that you pass seven times
before reaching the
ground of this peak.
you see the sea beyond
like a basin with still water.
you see boats like
floating petals of a
white flower, and those
biggers ones appear
to you like leaves
that had fallen to the ground.
you see clouds and clear skies
and you feel that up here
you are both king and god.
do not look down on this cliff
the feeling that everyone pulls down
your feet is still there.
you have felt it before in the office
where you are working and you
want to quit.
just like the butterfly that gathers
the nectars or the birds that gather
the sap of the ripe fruits
you come here to gather
your spirit. You want to be strong.
You want to be whole again.
You like to move on.
There is so much silence at the top.
There is no noise except the comforting silence of the wind.
There is so much to gather here.
Memories. Thoughts. Solitude. Peace.
Harmony. The unity of the universe in the
palm of your hand.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Poem.
These bones have life, and this heart knows
The poem that this hand has writ
The wind of God within it blows,
The light of God, too, shines in it.
Gather the words as sands, and cast
Them in the silence of the sphere,
The imaginary sound shall last
Till thought grows deaf to all things here
Ay! then regather, word by word,
The wonder of the mystic pen,
And ye shall hear a lonely bird
Singing within the hearts of men.
A form, a color, light and air,
'Tis like the soul — a phantasy
Which men may picture anywhere
Till God becomes a memory!
poem by Robert Crawford
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At End Of A Holiday
'LEAVES and brambles from hill and hollow
Come and gather!' the children cried;
'The sun goes down, and the night will follow,
A moonless night on the dark hillside.'
All ways they wandered — the dry twigs snapping,
With laugh and prattle and song between;
Down on the rocks the waves were lapping,
The long swell swaying the seaweed green.
And she stood by in her white sun-bonnet,
All lace and snow on her tressy hair,
With a gold king-beetle dreaming on it
A lotus dream in the lustrous air.
Was it love, or a dove in the tall tree cooing?
Was it love, or a dove that loitered nigh?
The eventide is the hour for wooing —
But I was silent, and she was shy.
Then suddenly rose a far faint humming,
A growing noise in the evening hush,
And the prattle of children homeward coming,
Laden with spoil of the gold-brown bush.
'Leaves and brambles from hill and hollow!
The way was tangled, and tangles tire.
The sun goes down and the night will follow, —
Now down on your knees and make us a fire!'
The leaves were wet (how a storm may hinder!)
The brambles damp with a shower at noon;
She bent to help . . .and my heart of tinder,
Ah, why did it burst to flame so soon?
'Dry leaves, dry leaves from the twilight forest,
Or bark that is sheltered, or hidden ferns:
Dry leaves, dry leaves!' the children chorused,
'The drier the leaf the redder it burns!'
The fire leapt up with a sudden glancing,
The first flame flushing her hands of snow;
And round about went the children dancing,
Their faces lit by the rosy glow.
That fire has gone beyond all returning,
For wild winds scatter and chill rains drench:
All dust the leaves; but a fire is burning
That wind or water shall never quench.
Ah, leaves and brambles from hill and hollow!
And two together, and violet eyes . . .
The sun goes down, and love must follow,
A quenchless fire, and a flame that dies.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Harvest For The World
Gather everyman, gather everywoman
Celebrate your lives, give thanks for your children
When will there be a harvest for all the people
When will there be a harvest for all the world
Harvest For The World
All babies together, everyone a seed
Half of us are satisfied, half of us in need
Love's bountiful in us, tarnished by our greed
When will there be a harvest for the world
A nation planted, so concerned with gain
As the seasons come and go, greater grows the pain
And far too many feelin' the strain
When will there be a harvest for the world
Gather everyman, gather everywoman
Celebrate your lives, give thanks for your children
Gather everyone, gather all together
Overlooking none, hopin' life gets better for the world
Dress me up for battle, when all I want is peace
Those of us who pay the price, come home with the least
Nation after nation, turning into beast
When will there be a harvest for the world
song performed by by Isley Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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