En.Citatepedia^®.ro

The Hill Pines Were Sighing

The hill pines were sighing,
O'ercast and chill was the day:
A mist in the valley lying
Blotted the pleasant May.

But deep in the glen's bosom
Summer slept in the fire
Of the odorous gorse-blossom
And the hot scent of the brier.

A ribald cuckoo clamoured,
And out of the copse the stroke
Of the iron axe that hammered
The iron heart of the oak.

Anon a sound appalling,
As a hundred years of pride
Crashed, in the silence falling;
And the shadowy pine-trees sighed.

poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
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1692

(copyright nazareth, tiflis tunes,inc.-ascap)
Mist upon the hill can remember murder,
Mist upon the hill that once flowed with blood,
Helped to cover up an approaching army,
Hid the killing lust in the eyes of men.
Sitting by the fire was a sentry sleeping,
Rolled up in their beds were children that play,
Unsuspecting what was to fall upon them,
None of them would see the dawn next day.
Bloody were the blades that fell on children,
Hate the blinding light tried to kill a name,
The mountains only know all the souls that died there,
Glen coe from that day can recall the shame.
The quiet of the night never gave them warning,
The silence of the hills wouldn't let them know,
They'd never rise again on a mist filled morning,
Never see the sunrise above glen coe.

song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Unexpected Love

Cool as rain on a dry summer day
Beautifully as the rainbow bridges the sky away

Fragrant as a pot of tea simmering
Soulful as a guitar strumming

Innocent as a child’s smile
Blissful as the cottony sky

Like spring you entered, as a pleasant twist
Refreshing as the early morning “Mist”

I never thought this day would come
When I would “Blossom” under the sun

From being dull and prickly
I bloomed into a morning glory

I felt alive and lost all the pain
Like daffodils I dance in the rain

Your love gave me a new leash of strength
As unexpected as a hidden treasure chest

poem by Blossom Mist
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Danny Boy

The valley is hushed
The flowers are all dying
The meadow is white with the winter snow
Lord as I stand at the place where daddies lying
I say a silent prayer and somehow I know
He hears me there, though soft I tread above him
So now he sleeps in peace
His danny boys come home
................. the pipes the pipe are calling
From glen to glen and down the moutainside
The summers gone and all the leaves are falling
Its you, its you must go and I must bide
O come ye back when the sun shines on the meadow
Or when the valleys hushed and white with snow
For Ill be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh danny boy, oh danny boy I love you so
I close my eyes and still I can see
Him standing there on the hill
Tears filled his eyes as he waved goodbye to me
I cant forget, I guess I never will
He said, the valley is hushed
The flowers are all dying
The meadow is white with the winter snow
Come find the place
Where you know that Ill be lying
Say a silent prayer
So Ill know

song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Propinquity (I've Just Begun To Care)

by Gerry Goffin & Carole King
The local rock group down the street
Is trying hard to learn their song,
They serenade the weekend squire
Who just came out to mow his lawn.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Charcoal burning everywhere,
Rows of houses that are all the same,
And no one seems to care.
See Mrs. Gray, she's proud today
Because her roses are in bloom,
And Mr. Green, he's so serene,
He's got a TV in every room.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Here in Status Symbol Land,
Mothers complain about how hard life is,
And the kids just don't understand.
Creature comfort goals, they only numb my soul,
And make it hard for me to see.
Ahhh...thoughts all seem to stray to places far away,
I need a change of scenery.
Ta ta ta ta, ta ta ta ta... (etc.)
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Charcoal burning everywhere.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Here in Status Symbol Land.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
(A pleasant valley Sunday)
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
(A pleasant valley Sunday)
(fade out)

song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Meet Me in the Green Glen

Love, meet me in the green glen,
Beside the tall elm-tree,
Where the sweetbriar smells so sweet agen;
There come with me.
Meet me in the green glen.

Meet me at the sunset
Down in the green glen,
Where we've often met
By hawthorn-tree and foxes' den,
Meet me in the green glen.

Meet me in the green glen,
By sweetbriar bushes there;
Meet me by your own sen,
Where the wild thyme blossoms fair.
Meet me in the green glen.

Meet me by the sweetbriar,
By the mole-hill swelling there;
When the west glows like a fire
God's crimson bed is there.
Meet me in the green glen.

poem by John Clare
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Danny Boy (live)

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the roses are dying
It's you, It's you must go and I must bide
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
For I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so
But when ye come and all the flowers are a dying
And if I am dead, dead I well may be
Just come and find, find the place
Find the place where I lay lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me
And I will hear tho soft you tread above me
And my grave, my grave warmer and sweeter be
For you're gonna kneel and you're gonna tell
God you're gonna tell me how you loved me
And I will sleep in peace until you come to me

song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By an Autumn Fire

Now at our casement the wind is shrilling,
Poignant and keen
And all the great boughs of the pines between
It is harping a lone and hungering strain
To the eldritch weeping of the rain;
And then to the wild, wet valley flying
It is seeking, sighing,
Something lost in the summer olden.
When night was silver and day was golden;
But out on the shore the waves are moaning
With ancient and never fulfilled desire,
And the spirits of all the empty spaces,
Of all the dark and haunted places,
With the rain and the wind on their death-white faces,
Come to the lure of our leaping fire.

But we bar them out with this rose-red splendor
From our blithe domain,
And drown the whimper of wind and rain
With undaunted laughter, echoing long,
Cheery old tale and gay old song;
Ours is the joyance of ripe fruition,
Attained ambition.
Ours is the treasure of tested loving,
Friendship that needs no further proving;

No more of springtime hopes, sweet and uncertain,
Here we have largess of summer in fee­
Pile high the logs till the flame be leaping,
At bay the chill of the autumn keeping,
While pilgrim-wise, we may go a-reaping
In the fairest meadow of memory!

poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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Monkee's Theme

Pleasant Valley Sunday
The Monkees
Your local rock group down the street
Is trying hard to learn this song
To serenade the weekend squire
Just came out to mow his lawn
Another pleasant valley sunday
Charcoal burnin everywhere
Rows of houses that are all the same
And no one seems to care
See Mrs. Gray she's proud today
Because her roses are in bloom
And Mr. Green he's so serene
He's got a TV in every room
Another pleasant valley sunday
Here in status symbol land
Mothers complain
About how hard life is
And the kids just don't understand
Creature comfort goals
They only numb my soul
And make it hard for me to see
My thoughts all seem to stray
To places far away
I need a change of scenery
(Ta ta ta ta....)
Another pleasant valley sunday
Charcoal burning everywhere
Another pleasant valley sunday
Here in status symbol land
Another pleasant valley sunday (repeat)

song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Danny Boy

(Traditionallyrics by Fred E. Weatherly)
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the roses falling
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come you back when summer's in the meadow
Or all the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
But when you come, when all the flowers are dying
If I am dead, as dead I well may be
Then if you bend and tell me that you love me
I'll sleep in peace until you come to me
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or all the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cold Chill

Feelin young and full of fun
Hangin out with my crew
Hot to trot and about to pop
Tryin to find some girl to get into
There she was fine as can be
Hair braided down to her knees
She took me home, she turned me out
But before sunrise she said I must leave
It was a cold chill on a summer night
Never thought the girlie wouldnt treat me right
It was a cold chill on a summer day
Never thought the girl would dog me out that way
It was a cold chill on a summer morn
Never cried like a baby since the day I was born
It was a cold chill on a summer eve
Never had no chopper bring me to my knees
I was feeling so trusting
Gave it all right down to the bone
But she did me wrong
On a summer night
Far from meek, and feelin chic
Refusing to concede defeat
There I was same crew, same time
Same club we kicked it at the previous week
I asked her how could she have the nerve
To treat me with such disgrace
She blinked her eyes, smiled, apologized
Threw her drink right in my face
It was a cold chill on a summer night
Never thought the girlie wouldnt treat me right
It was a cold chill on a summer day
Never thought the girl would dog me out that way
It was a cold chill on a summer morn
Never cried like a baby since the day I was born
It was a cold chill on a summer eve
Never had no chopper bring me to my knees
I was feeling so trusting
Gave it all right down to the bone
But she did me wrong
On a summer night, on a summer night
On a summer night, on a summer night
A cold chill, a cold chill, a cold chill, cold chill
Weekends came and weekends passed
But not the yearning in my heart
And there she was to light the spark
Like she did right from the very start
I took no time, drove to her house
Got deep into a passion high
I heard a knock, the turn of a key
And the voice of another guy
It was a cold chill on a summer night
Never thought the girlie wouldnt treat me right
It was a cold chill on a summer day
Never thought the girl would dog me out that way
It was a cold chill on a summer morn
Never cried like a baby since the day I was born
It was a cold chill on a summer eve
Never had no chopper bring me to my knees
I was feeling so trusting
Gave it all right down to the bone
But she did me wrong
On a summer night, on a summer night
On a summer night, on a summer night
It was a cold chill
Like standing in the deep freeze
A cold chill
Like when snows above your knees
Cold chill
Like sitting at the north pole
A cold chill
Wearing not one stitch of clothes
Cold chill
Like a winter chicago night
A cold chill
Twenty ice cubes down your back for spite
Cold chill
Stranded in sub-zero degrees
A cold chill
Layed out on the arctic sea
Cold chill
When your fingers get frost bite
A cold chill
Buried beneath ten feet of ice
Cold chill
Baby, that aint so nice
A cold chill

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Visiting The Taoist Priest Dai Tianshan But Not Finding Him

A dog's bark amid the water's sound,
Peach blossom that's made thicker by the rain.
Deep in the trees, I sometimes see a deer,
And at the stream I hear no noonday bell.
Wild bamboo divides the green mist,
A flying spring hangs from the jasper peak.
No-one knows the place to which he's gone,
Sadly, I lean on two or three pines.

poem by Li Po
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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At the Wars

Now that I am ta'en away
And may not see another day
What is it to my eye appears?
What sound rings in my stricken ears?
Not even the voice of any friend
Or eyes beloved-world-without-end,
But scenes and sounds of the country-side
In far England across the tide:
An upland field when spring's begun,
Mellow beneath the evening sun….
A circle of loose and lichened wall
Over which seven red pines fall….
An orchard of wizen blossoming trees
Wherein the nesting chaffinches
Begin again the self-same song
All the late April day-time long….
Paths that lead a shelving course
Between the chalk scarp and the gorse
By English downs; and oh! too well
I hear the hidden, clanking bell
Of wandering sheep…. I see the brown
Twilight of the huge, empty down
Soon blotted out! for now a lane
Glitters with warmth of May-time rain.
And on a shooting briar I see
A yellow bird who sings to me.

O yellow-hammer, once I heard
Thy yaffle when no other bird
Could to my sunk heart comfort bring;
But now I could not have thee sing
So sharp thy note is with the pain
Of England I may not see again!
Yet sing thy song: there answereth
Deep in me a voice which saith:

'The gorse upon the twilit down,
The English loam so sunset brown,
The bowed pines and the sheep-bells' clamour,
The wet, lit lane and the yellow-hammer,
The orchard and the chaffinch song
Only to the Brave belong.
And he shall lose their joy for aye
If their price he cannot pay.
Who shall find them dearer far
Enriched by blood alter long war.
'

poem by Robert Nichols
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Mist Hidden Fantasy

The mad piper played the hornpipe
in the evening mist near the fairy glade
and water sprites dances across the lochs waters.
The monster roared from the depth below
in keeping with the tune
and a wolf howled at a hidden moon
on a hill draped with heather.
Owlets awoke with watchful eyes
as their mother swooped from the skies.
The mist rolled down the glen,
then up the hill at the other end.
The castle stood faintly still
as shadows watched from the brow of the hill.
You could not call this the dead of night
with all the watchful eyes hidden from sight.
Still, the mad piper played
his tunes of joyful reverie
while the moon remained
in the mist hidden from sight.

poem by David Harris
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A Misty Day

Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
The mist hangs low o'er the wooded hill,
The soft white mist and the heavy cloud
The sun and the face of heaven shroud.
The birds are thick in the dripping trees,
That drop their pearls to the beggar breeze;
No songs are rife where songs are wont,
Each singer crouches in his haunt.

Heart of my heart, the day is chill,
Whene'er thy loving voice is still,
The cloud and mist hide the sky from me,
Whene'er thy face I cannot see.
My thoughts fly back from the chill without,
My mind in the storm drops doubt on doubt,
No songs arise. Without thee, love,
My soul sinks down like a frightened dove.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Pleasant Valley Sunday

The local rock group down the street
Is trying hard to learn their song
Seranade the weekend squire, who just came out to mow his lawn
Another pleasant valley sunday
Charcoal burning everywhere
Rows of houses that are all the same
And no one seems to care
See mrs. gray shes proud today because her roses are in bloom
Mr. green hes so serene, hes got a t.v. in every room
Another pleasant valley sunday
Here in status symbol land
Mothers complain about how hard life is
And the kids just dont understand
Creature comfort goals
They only numb my soul and make it hard for me to see
My thoughts all seem to stray, to places far away
I need a change of scenery
Ta ta ta...
Another pleasant valley sunday
Charcoal burning everywhere
Another pleasant valley sunday
Here in status symbol land
Another pleasant valley sunday...

song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Still You

There's a stream through a glen
Where wild apples grow
It runs down to old cliffs
Where foxes and deer
Watch the wild waters foam
White upon winter shores

And I know it's still you
In the waves on the shore
In the stream through the glen
Still you in the moonlight
Where apple blossom glows
And sweet breezes still blow

On the braes by that stream
In cool morning dew
There's a world fresh and free
and still time to dream
of the old and the new
to remember what's true

And I know it's still you
In the waves on the shore
In the stream through the glen
Still you in the moonlight
Where apple blossom glows
And sweet breezes still blow

Now the stream calls me home
And in its wild song
There's a lost harmony
And here in this glen
By the moon's rise and fall
I know where I belong

And it's with you, still with you
By the waves on the shore
By the stream through the glen
With you in the moonlight
Where apple blossom glows
And sweet breezes still blow
where I'm with you, still with you

poem by Jim Hogg
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Song III: It Grew Up Without Heeding

Love is enough: it grew up without heeding
In the days when ye knew not its name nor its measure,
And its leaflets untrodden by the light feet of pleasure
Had no boast of the blossom, no sign of the seeding,
As the morning and evening passed over its treasure.

And what do ye say then?--That Spring long departed
Has brought forth no child to the softness and showers;
--That we slept and we dreamed through the Summer of flowers;
We dreamed of the Winter, and waking dead-hearted
Found Winter upon us and waste of dull hours.

Nay, Spring was o'er-happy and knew not the reason,
And Summer dreamed sadly, for she thought all was ended
In her fulness of wealth that might not be amended;
But this is the harvest and the garnering season,
And the leaf and the blossom in the ripe fruit are blended.

It sprang without sowing, it grew without heeding,
Ye knew not its name and ye knew not its measure,
Ye noted it not mid your hope and your pleasure;
There was pain in its blossom, despair in its seeding,
But daylong your bosom now nurseth its treasure.

poem by William Morris
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One Summer Dream

Deep waters flow, out to the sea,
They never needed you or me.
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Blue mountains high and valley low,
I dont know which way I should go,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Warm summer breeze blows endlessly,
Touching the hearts of those who feel,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
Bird on wing goes floating by,
But theres a teardrop in his eye,
One summer dream, one summer dream.
One summer dream, one summer dream.

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Loss

IN the world was one green nook I knew,
Full of roses, roses red and white,
Reddest roses summer ever grew,
Whitest roses ever pearled with dew;
And their sweetness was beyond delight,
Was all love's delight.

Wheresoever in the world I went,
Roses were; for in my heart I took
Blow and blossom and bewildering scent;
Roses never with the summer spent,
Roses always ripening in that nook,
Love's far summer nook.

In the world a soddened plot I know
Blackening in this chill and misty air,
Set with shivering bushes in a row,
One by one the last leaves letting go:
Wheresoe'er I turn I shall be there,
Always sighing there.

Ah, my folly! Ah, my loss, my pain!
Dead, my roses that can blow no more!
Wherefore looked I on our nook again?
Wherefore went I after autumn's rain,
Where the summer roses bloomed before,
Bloomed so sweet before?

poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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I Feel Like A Leaf In Autumn

I feel like a leaf in Autumn borne along by flooded rill
Running down the silent valley down along the moonlit hill
Down to join the flooded river towards it's final destiny
To it's deep grave in salt water in the bosom of the sea.

I felt like that leaf in Springtime on it's lovely mother tree
With it's brothers and it's sisters one big happy family
A bright green leaf in a green World dancing in the wind and rain
Give me back what's gone forever give me back my youth again.

I felt like that leaf in Summer when the sun shone in the sky
And the world was full of colour and wild songbirds piped for joy
And bright wildflowers in green meadow fit home for fair butterfly
Oh but all that's young and beautiful has one day got to die.

I feel like a leaf in Autumn borne along by flooded stream
Running down the moonlit valley that was once so very green
Down to join the flooded river towards it's final destiny
To be gone and lost forever in the bosom of the sea.

poem by Francis Duggan
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