Related quotes: 1918 God rest you, peaceful...

Russia to the Pacifists

1918

God rest you, peaceful gentlemen, let nothing you dismay,
But--leave your sports a little while--the dead are borne
this way!
Armies dead and Cities dead, past all count or care.
God rest you, merry gentlemen, what portent see you there?
Singing:--Break ground for a wearied host
That have no ground to keep.
Give them the rest that they covet most . . .
And who shall next to sleep, good sirs,
In such a trench to sleep?

God rest you, peaceful gentlemen, but give us leave to pass.
We go to dig a nation's grave as great as England was.
For this Kingdom and this Glory and this Power and this Pride
Three hundred years it flourished--in three hundred days it
died.
Singing:--Pour oil for a frozen throng,
That lie about the ways.
Give them the warmth they have lacked so
long . . .
And what shall be next to blaze, good sirs,
On such a pyre to blaze?

God rest you, thoughtful gentlemen, and send your sleep is light!
Remains of this dominion no shadow, sound, or sight,
Except the sound of weeping and the sight of burning fire,
And the shadow of a people that is trampled into mire.
Singing:--Break bread for a starving folk
That perish in the field.
Give them their food as they take the yoke . . .
And who shall be next to yield, good sirs,
For such a bribe to yield?

God rest you merry gentlemen, and keep you in your mirth!
Was ever Kingdom turned so soon to ashes, blood and earth?
'Twixt the summer and the snow-seeding-time and frost--
Arms and victual, hope and counsel, name and country lost!
Singing:--Let down by the foot and the head--
Shovel and smooth it all !
So do we bury a Nation dead . . .
And who shall be next to fall, good sirs,
With your good help to fall?

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Related quotes

A Holy Week Song, 1918

Now when Christ died for man his sake
A myriad men must die;
His Via Crucis they must take
And share His Calvary.
God keep ye, gallant gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
Who share Lord Jesus Christ His pain
Upon this Good Friday!

Now some shall turn and meet His gaze
And say, 'Remember me
When Thou art come to Thine own place
Where ransomed sinners be!'
God rest ye, gallant gentlemen,
For ye are bought with price,
This day there wends a shining train
The way to Paradise.

The day our Lord Christ lay in grave
The dead are piled so high
The field slow-moving like a wave
Sends up a mortal cry.
God love ye, gallant gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For life is born and Death is slain
Upon the Easter Day.

poem by Katharine Tynan
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Domicile

By jimmy buffett, 1997
A little parody of God rest ye, merry gentlemen, which I wrote at jimmys bequest, disclosing the real reason the rich folks live on this forsaken rock in the sea - tax avoidance.
The hill crowd
God rest ye merry gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
With kinja as our domicile
Theres so much less to pay
We pay our taxes here
The irs is far away
Domicile is our comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Domicile is our comfort and joy

song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gentlemen!

Gentlemen! a politician,
One who values his position,
Stands, with easy confidence,
Here before you on the fence.
For he knows full well, good friends,
All your aims and all your ends;
And that these you may attain
He will strive with might and main.

Gentlemen! my sole ambition
Is to see that your condition
Shall continue to improve;
Wherefore I shall shortly move
For a special grant to buy
Extra bedding for your sty
Force it from the Government
For the folk I represent.

Gentlemen! You crave nutrition;
And I hold my high position
By your will and by your votes.
Pollard you shall have, and oats!
And I know you'll vote for me
In elections yet to be,
While I cater for your needs,
Promising yet further feeds.

Gentlemen! The Opposition,
By its frequent repetition
Of base lies would have you think
They'd increase your food and drink.
Friends, their secret aim, I know,
Is to cut your rations low,
And, while they but sneer and scoff,
It is we who fill your trough!

Gentlemen! This talk of 'Nation'
Is a vile abomination!
You are asked to sacrifice
Food and swill, and pay a price
For a shibboleth like that!
You are asked to give your fat
That your children, by-and-bye,
May possess a better sty!

Gentlemen! The aspiration
To build up a mighty nation
Is a question far too big
For an ordinary pig.
Truly, we don't care a damn,
When we're bacon, pork or ham,
What the fate of pigs may be.
Let 'em root the same as we!

Gentlemen! This tortured question
Gives you mental indigestion.
Such vague things you do not heed.
Food in plenty is your need.
In my place in Parliament
It is you I represent;
And I'll face all vile affronts
For your sakes! (Delighted grunts.)

Gentlemen! The proposition
For the honest politician
Is: 'Can I secure more oats
For the folk who give me votes?
Can I fill their troughs, and give
Mush to them, that I may live?'
To that end he should employ
All his art. (Loud squeals of joy.)

Gentlemen! A politician
With my knowledge and position
Knows full well that such as you
Take the plain, right-thinking view;
For himself each fatted pig,
And for all the rest - a fig!
Gentlemen, I greet your ranks,
And accept your grunt of thanks.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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(Excerpt From) The Jaycees Speech

When I was a child, ladies and gentlemen, I was a dreamer.
I read comic books, and I was the hero of the comic book. I saw movies, and I
was the hero in the movie.So every dream I ever dreamed has come true a hundred
times. These gentlemen over there, these are the type who care, are dedicated.
You realize if its not possible that they might be building the kingdom,
its not far-fetched from reality. Id like to say that I learned
very early in life that:
'Without a song the day would never end
Without a song a man aint got a friend
Without a song the road would never bend
Without a song...'
So I keep singing a song.
Good night.
Thank you.

song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Carol

Our Lord Who did the Ox command
To kneel to Judah's King,
He binds His frost upon the land
To ripen it for Spring --
To ripen it for Spring, good sirs,
According to His Word.
Which well must be as ye can see --
And who shall judge the Lord?

When we poor fenmen skate the ice
Or shiver on the wold,
We hear the cry of a single tree
That breaks her heart in the cold --
That breaks her heart in the cold, good sirs,
And rendeth by the board.
Which well must be as ye can see --
And who shall judge the Lord?

Her wood is crazed and little worth
Excepting as to burn,
That we may warm and make our mirth
Until the Spring return --
Until the Spring return, good sirs,
When Christians walk abroad;
When well must be as ye can see --
And who shall judge the Lord?

God bless the master of this house,
And all who sleep therein!
And guard the fens from pirate folk,
And keep us all from sin,
To walk in honesty, good sirs,
Of thought and deed ad word!
Which shall befriend our latter end....
And who shall judge the Lord?

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Cavalier Tunes: Marching Along

Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,
Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing:
And, pressing a troop unable to stoop
And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop,
Marched them along, fifty score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.
God for King Charles! Pym and such carles
To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!
Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,
Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup
Till you're--
(Chorus)
Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell.
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here
(Chorus)
Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?

Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might;
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight,
(Chorus)
March we along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!

poem by Robert Browning
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A Cavalier Song

(Chorus)
Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell.
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here

(Chorus)
Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?

Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might;
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight,

(Chorus)
March we along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!

poem by Robert Browning
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A Christmas Carol

TUNE--'God rest ye, merry gentleman.'

GOD rest ye, merry gentlemen; let nothing you dismay,
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day.
The dawn rose red o'er Bethlehem, the stars shone through the gray,
When Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day.

God rest ye, little children; let nothing you affright,
For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, was born this happy night;
Along the hills of Galilee the white flocks sleeping lay,
When Christ, the Child of Nazareth, was born on Christmas-day.

God rest ye, all good Christians; upon this blessed morn
The Lord of all good Christians was of a woman born:
Now all your sorrows He doth heal, your sins He takes away;
For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas-day.

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen (Within You)

==============================
God Rest You Merry Gentlemen
==============================
God rest you merry, gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
Remember Christ our Savior
Was born on Christmas Day;
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy,
O tidings of comfort and joy!
From God our heavenly Father
A blessed angel came;
And unto certain shepherds
Brought tiding of the same;
How that in Bethlehem was born
The Son of God by name.
"Fear not, then," said the angel,
"Let nothing you affright;
This day is born a Savior
Of a pure virgin bright,
To free all those who trust in him
From Satan's power and might."
Now to the Lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
this holy tide of Christmas
Doth bring redeeming grace.

song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marching Along

God for King Charles! Pym and such carles
To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!
Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,
Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup
Till you're—

Chorus. Marching along, fifty-score strong,

Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

III

Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell
Serve Hazelridg, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here

Chorus. Marching along, fifty-score strong,

Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?

Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might;
So onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight,

Chorus. March we along, fifty-score strong,

Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!

poem by Robert Browning from Cavalier Tunes (1842)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Cleburne

Another ray of light hath fled, another Southern brave
Hath fallen in his country's cause and found a laureled grave-
Hath fallen, but his deathless name shall live when stars shall set,
For, noble Cleburne, thou art one this world will ne'er forget.

'Tis true, thy warm heart beats no more, that on thy noble head
Azrael placed his icy hand, and thou art with the dead;
The glancing of thine eyes are dim; no more will they be bright
Until they ope in Paradise, with clearer, heavenlier light.

No battle news disturbs thy rest upon the sun-bright shore,
No clarion voice awakens thee on earth to wrestle more,
No tramping steed, no wary foe bids thee awake, arise,
For thou art in the angel world, beyond the starry skies.

Brave Cleburne, dream in thy low bed, with pulseless deadened heart;
Calm, calm and sweet, O warrior rest! thou well hast borne thy part,
And now a glory wreath for thee the angels singing twine,
A glory wreath, not of the earth, but made by hands divine.

A long farewell-we give thee up, with all thy bright reknown,
A chieftain here on earth is lost, in heaven an angel found.
Above thy grave a wail is heard-a nation mourns her dead;
A nobler for the South ne'er died, a braver never bled.

A last farewell-how can we speak the bitter word farewell!
The anguish of our bleeding hearts vain words may never tell.
Sleep on, sleep on, to God we give our chieftain in his might;
And weeping, feel he lives on high, where comes no sorrow's night.

poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'll Sleep When I Am Dead

J. Bon Jovi, R. Sambora, D. Child)
Seven days of saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
Don't need no Mondays
Or the rest of the week
I spend a lot of time in bed
But baby I don't like to sleep no
I won't lie to you
I'm necer gonna cry to you
I'll probably drive you wild 8 days a week
Until I'm 6 feet under
Baby I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
So you're looking for some action
I got got everything you need
Better keep your motor running
'cause I was built for speed
This ain't no slumber party
Got no time for catching z's
If they say that that ain't healthy
Well then living's a disease
We're never going to die baby
Come on let me drive you crazy
We'll make every night another New Year's Eve
Till I'm six feet under
I won't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive,
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Seven days of Saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for Sunday
'Cause I don't rest in peace
I was born to live
You know I wasn't born to die
But if they party down in heaven
I'll be sure to be on time
Until I'm six feet under
I don't need a bed
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
I feel like I'm exploding
Going out of my head
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Till I'm six feet under
And they lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while I'm alive
I'll sleep when I'm dead
Sleep when I'm dead, sleep when I'm dead
Gonna live while I'm alive, sleep when I'm dead

song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cheer

It's a mighty good world, so it is, dear lass,
When even the worst is said.
There's a smile and a tear, a sigh and a cheer,
But better be living than dead;
A joy and a pain, a loss and a gain;
There's honey and may be some gall:
Yet still I declare, foul weather or fair,
It's a mighty good world after all.

For look, lass! at night when I break from the fight,
My Kingdom's awaiting for me;
There's comfort and rest, and the warmth of your breast,
And little ones climbing my knee.
There's fire-light and song -- Oh, the world may be wrong!
Its empires may topple and fall:
My home is my care -- if gladness be there,
It's a mighty good world after all.

O heart of pure gold! I have made you a fold,
It's sheltered, sun-fondled and warm.
O little ones, rest! I have fashioned a nest;
Sleep on! you are safe from the storm.
For there's no foe like fear, and there's no friend like cheer,
And sunshine will flash at our call;
So crown Love as King, and let us all sing --
"It's a mighty good world after all."

poem by Robert William Service
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Ill Sleep When Im Dead

Seven days of saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for sunday
cause I dont rest in peace
Dont need no mondays
Or the rest of the week
I spend a lot of time in bed
But baby I dont like to sleep no
I wont lie to you
Im never gonna cry to you
Ill probably drive you wild 8 days a week
Until Im 6 feet under
Baby I dont need a bed
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
So youre looking for some action
I got got everything you need
Better keep your motor running
cause I was built for speed
This aint no slumber party
Got no time for catching zs
If they say that that aint healthy
Well then livings a disease
Were never going to die baby
Come on let me drive you crazy
Well make every night another new years eve
Till Im six feet under
I wont need a bed
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Sleep when Im dead, sleep when Im dead
Gonna live while Im alive,
Ill sleep when Im dead
Seven days of saturday
Is all that I need
Got no use for sunday
cause I dont rest in peace
I was born to live
You know I wasnt born to die
But if they party down in heaven
Ill be sure to be on time
Until Im six feet under
I dont need a bed
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Till they roll me over
And lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
I feel like Im exploding
Going out of my head
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Till Im six feet under
And they lay my bones to rest
Gonna live while Im alive
Ill sleep when Im dead
Sleep when Im dead, sleep when Im dead
Gonna live while Im alive, sleep when Im dead

song performed by by Bon Jovi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

God rest ye merry gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember christ our savior
Was born on christmas day
To save us all from satans power
When we were gone astray
Oh tiding of comfort and joy
From God our heavenly father
The blessed angel came
And unto certain shepherds
Brought tidings of the same
How that in bethlehem was born
The son of God by name
Oh tidings of comfort and joy(repeat)
Fear not said the angel
Let nothing you affright
This day is born a savior
Of the pure virgin bright
To free all those who trust in him
From satans power and might
Oh tidings of comfort and joy (repeat)
And when they came to bethlehem
Where our dear savior lay
They found him in the manger
Where oxen feed on hay
His mother mary kneeled down
And to the lord did pray
Oh tidings of comfort and joy (repeat)
God rest ye merry gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember christ our savior
Was born on christmas day

song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Good Reason

Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Like a thief youve stolen
Like rain on a grave
Like a priest whos spoken
But failed to save
Now the air is empty
And the ground the same
Love has gone to be buried
Beside my name
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Why couldnt you have told me
About your liars kiss
I cant believe youd leave me
At a time like this
And the wind is howling
And its a dying dream
And my faith is silent
While my doubts scream
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care

song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The White Lady

I cannot rest, I cannot rest
In straight and shiny wood,
My woven hands upon my breast--
The dead are all so good!

The earth is cool across their eyes;
They lie there quietly.
But I am neither old nor wise;
They do not welcome me.

Where never I walked alone before,
I wander in the weeds;
And people scream and bar the door,
And rattle at their beads.

We cannot rest, we never rest
Within a narrow bed
Who still must love the living best--
Who hate the pompous dead!

poem by Dorothy Parker
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Good-Night

THE lark is silent in his nest,
The breeze is sighing in its flight,
Sleep, Love, and peaceful be thy rest.
Good-night, my love, good-night, good-night.
Sweet dreams' attend thee in thy sleep,
To soothe thy rest till morning's light,
And angels round thee vigil keep.
Good-night, my love, good-night, good-night.
Sleep well, my love, on night's dark breast,
And ease thy soul with slumber bright;
Be joy but thine and I am blest.
Good-night, my love, good-night, good-night.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Cavalier Tunes

. MARCHING ALONG.

II.

God for King Charles! Pym and such carles
To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!
Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,
Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup
Till you're---

CHORUS.---Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

III.

Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here

CHORUS.---Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?

IV.

Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might;
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight,

CHORUS.---March we along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!

II. GIVE A ROUSE.

King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!

II.

Who gave me the goods that went since?
Who raised me the house that sank once?
Who helped me to gold I spent since?
Who found me in wine you drank once?

CHORUS.---King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!

III.

To whom used my boy George quaff else,
By the old fool's side that begot him?
For whom did he cheer and laugh else,
While Noll's damned troopers shot him?

CHORUS.---King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!

III. BOOT AND SADDLE.

Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery grey,

CHORUS.---Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!

II.

Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
``God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay---

CHORUS.---``Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!''

III.

Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array:
Who laughs, ``Good fellows ere this, by my fay,

CHORUS.---``Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!''

IV.

Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, ``Nay!
``I've better counsellors; what counsel they?

CHORUS.---``Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!''

poem by Robert Browning
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Lust

In the damp dark night
the dead lusts for light,
he could but never did strive
at the time that found him alive,
for doing a little good work,
some good to leave his mark
leave a little happiness behind
but these never came to his mind.
He always thought it best
not to bother about the rest....
rest he has now found
some depth beneath the ground
lusting for a little light
but time is merciless, so is the night.

poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Russia to the Pacifists

Related quotes

A Holy Week Song, 1918

Domicile

Gentlemen!

(Excerpt From) The Jaycees Speech

A Carol

Cavalier Tunes: Marching Along

A Cavalier Song

A Christmas Carol

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen (Within You)

Marching Along

Cleburne

I'll Sleep When I Am Dead

Cheer

Ill Sleep When Im Dead

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

One Good Reason

The White Lady

Good-Night

Cavalier Tunes

Lust

En.Citatepedia^®.ro