Concert Party
(EGYPTIAN BASE CAMP)
They are gathering round....
Out of the twilight; over the grey-blue sand,
Shoals of low-jargoning men drift inward to the sound—
The jangle and throb of a piano ... tum-ti-tum...
Drawn by a lamp, they come
Out of the glimmering lines of their tents, over the shuffling sand.
O sing us the songs, the songs of our own land,
You warbling ladies in white.
Dimness conceals the hunger in our faces,
This wall of faces risen out of the night,
These eyes that keep their memories of the places
So long beyond their sight.
Jaded and gay, the ladies sing; and the chap in brown
Tilts his grey hat; jaunty and lean and pale,
He rattles the keys ... some actor-bloke from town...
God send you home; and then A long, long trail;
I hear you calling me; and Dixieland....
Sing slowly ... now the chorus ... one by one
We hear them, drink them; till the concert’s done.
Silent, I watch the shadowy mass of soldiers stand.
Silent, they drift away, over the glimmering sand.
Kantara, April 1918.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Related quotes
Song of The Stream-Drops
By silent forest and field and mossy stone,
We come from the wooden hill, and we go to the sea.
We labour, and sing sweet songs, but we never moan,
For our mother, the sea, is calling us cheerily.
We have heard her calling us many and many a day
From the cool grey stones and the white sands far away.
The way is long, and winding and slow is the track,
The sharp rocks fret us, the eddies bring us delay,
But we sing sweet songs to our mother, and answer her back;
Gladly we answer our mother, sweetly repay.
Oh, we hear, we hear her singing wherever we roam,
Far, far away in the silence, calling us home.
Poor mortal, your ears are dull, and you cannot hear;
But we, we hear it, the breast of our mother abeat;
Low, far away, sweet and solemn and clear,
Under the hush of the night, under the noon-tide heat:
And we sing sweet songs to our mother, for so we shall please her best,
Songs of beauty and peace, freedom and infinite rest.
We sing, and sing, through the grass and the stones and the reeds,
And we never grow tired, though we journey ever and aye,
Dreaming, and dreaming, wherever the long way leads,
Of the far cool rocks and the rush of the wind and the spray.
Under the sun and the stars we murmur and dance and are free,
And we dream and dream of our mother, the width of the sheltering sea.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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The Herons Of Elmwood. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)
Warm and still is the summer night,
As here by the river's brink I wander;
White overhead are the stars, and white
The glimmering lamps on the hillside yonder.
Silent are all the sounds of day;
Nothing I hear but the chirp of crickets,
And the cry of the herons winging their way
O'er the poet's house in the Elmwood thickets.
Call to him, herons, as slowly you pass
To your roosts in the haunts of the exiled thrushes,
Sing him the song of the green morass;
And the tides that water the reeds and rushes.
Sing him the mystical Song of the Hern,
And the secret that baffles our utmost seeking;
For only a sound of lament we discern,
And cannot interpret the words you are speaking.
Sing of the air, and the wild delight
Of wings that uplift and winds that uphold you,
The joy of freedom, the rapture of flight
Through the drift of the floating mists that infold you.
Of the landscape lying so far below,
With its towns and rivers and desert places;
And the splendor of light above, and the glow
Of the limitless, blue, ethereal spaces.
Ask him if songs of the Troubadours,
Or of Minnesingers in old black-letter,
Sound in his ears more sweet than yours,
And if yours are not sweeter and wilder and better.
Sing to him, say to him, here at his gate,
Where the boughs of the stately elms are meeting,
Some one hath lingered to meditate,
And send him unseen this friendly greeting;
That many another hath done the same,
Though not by a sound was the silence broken;
The surest pledge of a deathless name
Is the silent homage of thoughts unspoken.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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* * *
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
A Happy Song...
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
Sing Me No Sad Songs
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
006-Sing Me No Sad Songs
Sing me no sad songs cause my hearts
been broken too many times and I've cried
myself asleep too many nights.
Sing me no sad songs cause they bring
back all the hurt and all the memories that
I'm tryin' to forget.
Sing me no sad songs cause I'm feelin'
low and those songs just keep me down.
They keep me from smiling or seein' the sun.
Sing me no sad songs, cause I'm tryin' to
raise myself up and lookin' for a feel
good song and a feel good smile.
Sing me no sad songs cause they chase away
all the stuff that's good in life. Those sad songs...
they always make my brown eyes blue and lock
the door on love and such.
Baby...sing me no sad songs, just hold me and
sing softly...the songs of love and the songs of hope.
If I live to be a hundred I never want to hear those
bad feelin' sad songs again.
poem by Waldon Pond Productions
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It's Just A Song (Lyric) :
You hear the sound of the song.
It's coming on real strong.
It gives you a sense of strength.
it filters through the air.
It lifts you off the ground.
We hear from town to town.
It's just a song-sung-long.
A sing-a-long-song-sung.
It's just a song.
it's just a song.
A sing-a-long-song-sung.
It's just a song.
It takes you out in space.
Closer to second base.
It follows through so cool.
The smoothest thing for you.
A sound that sounds so clear.
A sound you'll want to hear.
It's just a song-sung-long.
A sing-a-long-song-sung.
It's just a song.
It's just a song.
It's just a-song-sung-long.
A sing-a-long-song-sung.
It's just a song.
It sends you through the air.
A sound that makes you high.
It makes you feel so good.
A sound that always should.
Just lifts you off the ground.
We hear from town to town.
It's just a-song-sung-long.
A sing-a-long-song-sung.
It's just a song.
It's just a song.
It's just a-song-sung-long.
A sing-a-long-song-sung.
It's just a song.
it's just a song..
Song-Lyric-Poetry by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1989,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
See>>www.edwardspoetry.com
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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Places In My Past
There are ladies in my life
Lovely ladies in these lazy days
And though I never took a wife
May I say that I have loved me one or two
Of the people in my past
Fading faces in a waking dream
And though they never seemed to last very long
There are faces I remember
From the places in my past
I said all the dead head miles
And the insincere smiles
Sometimes I can laugh and cry
And I cant remember why
But I still love those
Good times gone by
Hold on to them close or let them go, oh no
I dont know
I just seem to sing these songs
And say Im sorry for the friends I used to know
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In A Time Of Dearth
Before me,
On either side of me,
I see sand.
If I turn the corner of my house,
I see sand,
Long, brown
Lines and levels of flat
Sand.
If I could only see a caravan
Heave over the edge of it:
The camels wobbling and swaying,
Stepping like ostriches,
With rocking palanquins
Whose curtains conceal
Languors and faintnesses,
Muslins tossed aside,
And a disorder of cushions.
The swinging curtains would pique and solace me.
But I only see sand,
Long, brown sand -
Sand.
If I could only see a herd of Arab horses
Galloping,
Their manes and tails pulled straight
By the speed of their going;
Their bodies sleek and round
Like bellying sails.
They would beat the sand with their fore feet,
And scatter it with their hind feet,
So that it whirled in a cloud of orange,
And the sun through it
Was clip-edged, without rays, and dun.
But I only see sand,
Long, brown, hot sand -
Sand.
If I could only see a mirage,
Blue-white at the horizon,
With palm-trees about it;
Tall, windless palm-trees, grouped about a-glitter.
If I could strain toward it,
And think of the water creeping round my ankles,
Tickling under my knees,
Leeching up my sides,
Spreading over my back.
But I only feel the grinding beneath my feet.
And I only see sand,
Long, dry sand,
Scorching sand -
Sand.
If a sand-storm would only come
And spit against my windows,
Snapping upon them, and ringing their vibrations;
Swirling over the roof;
Seeping under the door-jamb;
Suffocating me and making me struggle for air.
But I only see sand -
Sand lying dead in the sun.
Lines and lines of sand -
Sand.
I will paste newspapers over the windows to shut out the sand;
I will fit them into one another, and fasten the corners.
Then I will strike matches
And read of politics and murders and festivals
Three years old.
But I shall not see the sand any more,
And I can read
While my matches last.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Sing to Me Your Love Songs
Sing to me your love songs.
And I will sing to you,
No blues of those experiences...
I've seen and have lived through.
Sing to me those love songs sung,
And I will sing to you...
Of a love I knew.
With no lasting harmony,
Starting in the beginning when it begun.
I wish, I do...
Since meeting you,
I could begin with a freshness...
Clear of heartbreak,
That seemed to pain as it grew.
I wish, I do...
I could be free,
Of long lasting memories.
That come to haunt...
As in pursuit,
To destroy me emotionally.
Sing!
Sing to me your love songs.
And I'll sing to you...
Of no sorrows I knew.
Sing!
Sing to me of those love songs...
I've been needing desperately.
Don't stop if from eyes tears drop.
This may be the start...
Of pushing old pains kept away.
Sing to me your love songs sweet...
I feel a presence,
Of something wanted I need to stay!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Drifting Away: A Fragment
(Written for music to be sung at a parish industrial exhibition)
See the land, her Easter keeping,
Rises as her Maker rose.
Seeds, so long in darkness sleeping,
Burst at last from winter snows.
Earth with heaven above rejoices;
Fields and gardens hail the spring;
Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices,
While the wild birds build and sing.
You, to whom your Maker granted
Powers to those sweet birds unknown,
Use the craft by God implanted;
Use the reason not your own.
Here, while heaven and earth rejoices,
Each his Easter tribute bring-
Work of fingers, chant of voices,
Like the birds who build and sing.
Eversley, 1867.
They drift away. Ah, God! they drift for ever.
I watch the stream sweep onward to the sea,
Like some old battered buoy upon a roaring river,
Round whom the tide-waifs hang-then drift to sea.
I watch them drift-the old familiar faces,
Who fished and rode with me, by stream and wold,
Till ghosts, not men, fill old beloved places,
And, ah! the land is rank with churchyard mold.
I watch them drift-the youthful aspirations,
Shores, landmarks, beacons, drift alike.
. . . . .
I watch them drift-the poets and the statesmen;
The very streams run upward from the sea.
. . . . . .
Yet overhead the boundless arch of heaven
Still fades to night, still blazes into day.
. . . . .
Ah, God! My God! Thou wilt not drift away
November 1867.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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Soldiers
Do I hear what I think Im hearing?
Do I see the signs I think I see?
Or is this just a fantasy?
Is it true that the beast is waking
Stirring in his restless sleep tonight
In the pale moonlight
In the grip of this cold december
You and I have reason to remember
Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing
The songs that you and I dont sing
They blow their horns and march along
They drum their drums and look so strong
Youd think that nothing in the world was wrong
Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing
The songs that you and I wont sing
Lets not look the other way
Taking a chance
cause if the bugler starts to play
We too must dance
Whats that sound, whats that dreadful rumble?
Wont somebody tell me what I hear?
In the distance but drawing near
Is it only a storm approaching?
All that thunder and the blinding light
In the winter night
In the grip of this cold december
You and I have reason to remember
Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing
The songs that you and I dont sing
They blow their horns and march along
They drum their drums and look so strong
Youd think that nothing in the world was wrong
Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing
The songs that you and I wont sing
Lets not look the other way
Taking a chance
cause if the bugler starts to play
We too must dance
Soldiers write the songs that soldiers sing
The songs that you and I wont sing
Lets not look the other way
Taking a chance
cause if the bugler starts to play
We too must dance
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Sing
I sing to vent the pain that is sometimes in me
Other times I sing of happiness, jubilation and glee
Sometimes I sing in celebration and can rock out all night long
I sing of love through every ballad and heart wrenching love song
Sometimes I sing a song that is trapped inside my head
I sing it all day long, sometimes until I go to bed
I sing of memories, songs that mark pages in my past
I sing on holidays, great carols that last and last and last
I sing when I am working, then time doesn’t seem so long
I sing when I am lonely, there’s nothing like the comfort of a song
To me, to sing with all my voice is simply a blast
I hope to sing everyday of my life until I breathe my last
poem by Rhonda Baker
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From A Distance
From a distance, the world looks blue and green,
And the snow capped mountains so white.
From a distance the ocean meets the stream,
And the eagle takes to flight.
From a distance, there is harmony
And it echoes through the land.
Its the voice of hope, its the voice of peace,
Its the voice of every man.
From a distance, we all have enough,
And no-one is in need.
There are no guns, no bombs and no disease
No hungry mouths to feed.
For a moment we must be instruments,
Martching in a common band,
Playing songs of hope, playing songs of peace,
Theyre is the songs of every one.
God is watching us, God is watching us,
God is watching us, from a distance.
From a distance, you look like my friend,
Even though we are at war.
From a distance, I cant comprehend,
What all this war is for.
What we need is love and harmony,
Let it echo through the land.
Its the hope of hopes, its the love of loves,
Its the heart of everyone.
Its the hope of hopes, its the love of loves,
Its the song of everyone.
Sing out, songs of hope,
Sing out, songs of freedom,
Sing out, songs of love,
Sing out, songs of peace,
Sing out, songs of justice,
Sing out, songs of harmony,
Sing out, songs of love,
Sing out, everyone,
Sing out, songs of hope,
Sing out, songs of freedom,
Sing out, songs of love,
Sing out, songs of peace,
Sing out, songs of justice,
Sing out, songs in harmony,
Sing out, sing about love,
Sing out, everyone.
Sing out.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pale
Pale blue clouds, in a pale blue sky,
Pale sea birds, fly every which way.
O'er the pale blue sea, they softly fly,
Throughout the pale blue day.
Pale brown grass, withering alone,
Amid the sand dunes dying.
Pale as a sun bleached animal bone,
As you hear the sea breeze sighing.
Pale grey mist upon the sea,
Slowly creeping to the shore.
Pale giant tarpons jumping free,
As the pale Atlantic, gently roars.
12/3/11 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
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Billy Breathes
Tumbling greens, a pick-up screams alone above the square
Whoa, sing softly
Above the trees where billy breathes we float upon the air
Whoa, oh
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Ooooh ooooh
Silent scenes in motion means, Ill wake you when were there
Whoa, sing softly
Time, it seems, in broken dreams, to sleep beside the stair
Whoa, oh
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Ooooh ooooh
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
Softly sing sweet songs
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Julia
Half of what I say is meaningless
But I say it just to reach you
Julia
Julia
Julia
Oceanchild
Calls me
So I sing a song of love
Julia
Julia
Seashell eyes
Windy smile
So I sing a song of love
Julia
Her hair of floating sky is shimmering
Glimmering
In the sun
Julia
Julia
Morning moon
Touch me
So I sing a song of love
Julia
When I cannot sing my heart
I can only speak my mind
Julia
Julia
Sleeping sand
Silent cloud
Touch me
So I sing a song of love
Julia
Calls me
So I sing a song of love
For julia
Julia
Julia
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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39
Words and music by brian may
in the year of thirty-nine
Assembled here the volunteers
In the days when lands were few
Here the ship sailed out into the blue and sunny morn
The sweetest sight ever seen
And the night followed day
And the story tellers say
That the score brave souls inside
For many a lonely day
Sailed across the milky seas
Never looked back never feared never cried
Dont you hear my call
Though youre many years away
Dont you hear me calling you
Write your letters in the sand
For the day Ill take your hand
In the land that our grand-children knew
in the year of thirty-nine
Came a ship from the blue
The volunteers came home that day
And they bring good news
Of a world so newly born
Though their hearts so heavily weigh
For the earth is old and grey
Little darlin well away
But my love this cannot be
Oh so many years have gone
Though Im older than a year
Your mothers eyes from your eyes cry to me
Dont you hear my call
Though youre many years away
Dont you hear me calling you
Write your letters in the sand
For the day Ill take your hand
In the land that our grand-children knew
Dont you hear my call
Though youre many years away
Dont you hear me calling you
All your letters in the sand
Cannot heal me like your hand
For my life still ahead pity me
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Everyday Is Like Sunday
[ morrissey ]
Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench where your clothes were stolen
This is a coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armagedon - come armagedon come armagedon come
Everyday is like sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Hide on a promanade
Etch on a post card:
How I dearly wish I was not here
In the seaside town
That they forgot to bomb
Come, come nuclear bomb!
Everyday is like sunday
Everyday is silent and grey
Trudging back over pebbles and sand
And a strange dust lands on your hands
(and on your face)
Everyday is like sunday
Win yourself a cheap tray
Share some grease tea with me
Everyday is silent and grey
song performed by by 10000 Maniacs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Seamaids’ Music
One moment the boy, as he wander’d by night
Where the far spreading foam in the moonbeam was white,
One moment he caught on the breath of the breeze
The voice of the sisters that sing in the seas.
One moment, no more: though the boy linger’d long,
No more might he hear of the mermaidens’ song,
But the pine-woods behind him moan’d low from the land,
And the ripple gush’d soft at his feet on the sand.
Yet or ever they ceas’d, the strange sound of their joy
Had lighted a light in the breast of the boy:
And the seeds of a wonder, a splendor to be
Had been breath’d through his soul from the songs of the sea.
poem by Ernest Myers
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