Two Hundred Years After
Trudging by Corbie Ridge one winter's night,
(Unless old hearsay memories tricked his sight)
Along the pallid edge of the quiet sky
He watched a nosing lorry grinding on,
And straggling files of men; when these were gone,
A double limber and six mules went by,
Hauling the rations up through ruts and mud
To trench-lines digged two hundred years ago.
Then darkness hid them with a rainy scud,
And soon he saw the village lights below.
But when he'd told his tale, an old man said
That he'd seen soldiers pass along that hill;
'Poor silent things, they were the English dead
Who came to fight in France and got their fill.'
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Related quotes
Ships
(ian hunter)
We walked to the sea, just my father and me
And the dogs played around on the sand.
Winter cold cut the air, hanging still everywhere
Dressed in gray did he say hold my hand?
I said loves easier when its far away
We sat and watched the distant lights.
Were two ships that pass in the night
And we smile when we say its alright.
Were still here, its just that were out of sight
Like those ships that pass in the night.
Theres a boat on the line where the sea meets the sky.
Theres another that rides far behind.
And it seems you and I are like strangers a wide
Ways apart as we drift on through time.
He said its harder now youre far away
We only read you when you write.
Were two ships that pass in the night
We both smile when we say its alright.
Were still here, oh its just that were out of sight
Like those ships that pass in the night.
Were two ships that pass in the night
Were two ships that pass in the night
Were two ships that pass in the night
(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Road
The Road is thronged with women; soldiers pass
And halt, but never see them; yet they’re here—
A patient crowd along the sodden grass,
Silent, worn out with waiting, sick with fear.
The Road goes crawling up a long hillside,
All ruts and stones and sludge, and the emptied dregs
Of battle thrown in heaps; here where they died
Are stretched big-bellied horses with stiff legs,
And dead men, bloody-fingered from the fight,
Stare up at cavern'd darkness winking white.
You in the bomb-scorched kilt, poor sprawling Jock,
You tottered here and fell, and stumbled on,
Half-dazed for want of sleep: no dream would mock
Your reeling brain with comforts lost and gone.
You did not feel her arms about your knees,
Her blind caress, her lips upon your head:
Too tired for thoughts of home and love and ease,
The Road would serve you well enough for bed.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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The Road
The road is thronged with women; soldiers pass
And halt, but never see them; yet they’re here—
A patient crowd along the sodden grass,
Silent, worn out with waiting, sick with fear.
The road goes crawling up a long hillside,
All ruts and stones and sludge, and the emptied dregs
Of battle thrown in heaps. Here where they died
Are stretched big-bellied horses with stiff legs,
And dead men, bloody-fingered from the fight,
Stare up at caverned darkness winking white.
You in the bomb-scorched kilt, poor sprawling Jock,
You tottered here and fell, and stumbled on,
Half dazed for want of sleep. No dream would mock
Your reeling brain with comforts lost and gone.
You did not feel her arms about your knees,
Her blind caress, her lips upon your head.
Too tired for thoughts of home and love and ease,
The road would serve you well enough for bed.
poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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Dublin At Dawn
IN the chill grey summer dawn-light
We pass through the empty streets;
The rattling wheels are all silent;
No friend his fellow greets.
Here and there, at the corners,
A man in a great-coat stands;
A bayonet hangs by his side, and
A rifle is in his hands.
This is a conquered city;
It speaks of war not peace;
And that's one of the English soldiers
The English call 'police.'
You see, at the present moment
That noble country of mine
Is boiling with indignation
At the memory of a 'crime.'
In a path of the Phoenix Park where
The children romped and ran,
An Irish Ruffian met his doom,
And an English Gentleman.
For a hundred and over a hundred
Years on the country side
Men and women and children
Have slaved and starved and died,
That those who slaved and starved them
Might spend their earnings then,
And the Irish Ruffians have a 'good time,'
And the English Gentlemen.
For a hundred and over a hundred
Years, that Christian land
Has read its Bible and looked at all this,
And lifted nor foot nor hand.
But still at the present moment
This noble country of mine
Is boiling with indignation
At the memory of this 'crime.'
For the Irish Ruffians (they tell me,
And it looks as if 'twere true)
And the English Gentlemen are so scarce,
We must wildly avenge these two.
In the chill grey summer dawn-light
We pass through the empty streets;
The rattling wheels are all silent;
No friend his fellow greets.
Here and there at the corners,
A man in a great-coat stands;
A bayonet hangs by his side, and
A rifle is in his hands.
This is a conquered city;
It speaks of war not peace;
And that's one of the English soldiers
The English call 'police.'
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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As The Years Pass Along
When the snow is gone,
we will remember this winter
for a long time to come.
We will remember being told not to go to work,
now that never happened before.
We will remember of being snow in,
and that has never happened before.
Yes, we will all have memories to share
as the years pass along,
of the biggest snowfall
we had in over forty years.
We will talk about it with affection,
forgetting the moans some people had.
We will laugh at how the authorities
like always were never prepared.
How we had to walk for a change
for there were no buses to be had.
We will remember the community spirit,
something we have not seen in years.
Memories will compound memories
with a few exaggerations to be had
as the years pass along.
13 January 2010
poem by David Harris
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I Will Remember You
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
I'm so tired
I can't sleep
Standing on the edge of something
Much to deep.
It's funny how we feel so much
And cannot say a word
We're screaming inside
But we can't be heard
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
So afraid to love you
More afraid to loose
Clinging to past
That doesn't let me choose.
Well, once there was a darkness
A deep and endless night
You gave me everything
You gave me light.
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Remember all
The good times that we had
Let them slip away from us
And things got bad.
Clearly I first saw you
Smiling in the sun
I want to feel your warmth
I want to be the one.
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Chorus:
I will remember you
Will you remember me?
Don't let your life pass you by
Weep not for the memories.
Weep not for the memories.
The memories...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Little House
Our little house upon the hill
In winter time is strangely still;
The roof tree, bare of leaves, stands high,
A candelabrum for the sky,
And down below the lamplights glow,
And ours makes answer o'er the snow.
Our little house upon the hill
In summer time strange voices fill;
With ceaseless rustle of the leaves,
And birds that twitter in the eaves,
And all the vines entangled so
The village lights no longer show.
Our little house upon the hill
Is just the house of Jack and Jill,
And whether showing or unseen,
Hid behind its leafy screen;
There's a star that points it out
When the lamp lights are in doubt.
poem by Thomas Walsh
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Ships
We walked to the sea
Just my father and me
And the dogs played around on the sand
Winter cold cut the air
Hangin still everywhere
Dressed in gray, did he say
Hold my hand
I said, loves easier when its far away
We sat and watched a distant light
Were two ships that pass in the night
We both smile and we say its alright
Were still here
Its just that were out of sight
Like those ships that pass in the night
Theres a boat on the line
Where the sea meets the sky
Theres another that rides far behind
And it seems you and I are like strangers
A wide ways apart as we drift on through time
He said, its harder now, were far away
We only read you when you write
Were two ships that pass in the night
And we smile when we say its alright
Were still here
Its just that were out of sight
Like those ships that pass in the night
Repeat
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Charge Of The Mule Brigade
Half a mile, half a mile,
Half a mile onward,
Right through the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
'Forward the Mule Brigade!
Charge for the Rebs,' they neighed.
Straight for the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
'Forward the Mule Brigade!'
Was there a mule dismayed?
Not when their long ears felt
All their ropes sundered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to make Rebs fly.
On! to the Georgia troops
Broke the two hundred.
Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered.
Breaking their own confines
Breaking through Longstreet's lines
Into the Georgia troops
Stormed the two hundred.
Wild all their eyes did glare,
Whisked all their tails in air
Scattering the chivalry there,
While all the world wondered.
Not a mule back bestraddled,
Yet how they all skedaddled -
Fled every Georgian,
Unsabred, unsaddled,
Scattered and sundered!
How they were routed there
By the two hundred!
Mules to the right of them,
Mules to the left of them,
Mules behind them
Pawed, neighed, and thundered;
Followed by hoof and head
Full many a hero fled,
Fain in the last ditch dead,
Back from an ass's jaw
All that was left of them, -
Left by the two hundred.
When can their glory fade?
Oh, what a wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made!
Honor the Mule Brigade,
Long-eared two hundred!
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Mary Danced With Soldiers
She'd slip away each day with the dimming light
And with the sweetest smile she'd kiss the child goodnight
At the mill she'd work her fingers till they were raw
For the sake of her son and the daddy he never saw
Mary danced with soldiers
She stepped a light quadrille
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill, to keep away the chill
It was a rebel boy who brought her joy they say
Though the years had passed the memories stood fast each day
Before a bullet crushed the life of their romance
He gave her a shawl and a parasol from France
Mary danced with soldiers
She stepped a light quadrille
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill, to keep away the chill
They came around to the tavern in town that night
And with silent cries Mary never tried to fight
They cut her hair and left her body torn
Her spirit slipped away before the dawn
Mary danced with soldiers
But now her body's still
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill
Mary danced with soldiers
She stepped a light quadrille
Shawl across her shoulders
To keep away the chill, to keep away the chill
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Edge Of Honour
Led by temptation into the underworld
to absence of season and time
Soldiers of Fortune, Soldiers of the Night
back to back, ready to fight
Enchanted gardens, where Evil slipped away
through darkness, fire and rage
Uncanny demons will dance upon your grave
as soon as you become their slave
Surrender or fight, theres nowhere to turn
The Bringer of Light, where are you now
Forever our hearts will burn
Immortal Riders, Protectors of the Earth
lost in the abode of the dead
Misled through darkness and mislead by desire
inside the midst of the fire
Surrender or fight, theres nowhere to turn
The Bringer of Light, where are you now
Forever our hearts will burn
Fallen Angels, arise from your graves
Free your spirits and unite
before the blood of the Unicorn colors the night
From the ruins of hell we shall rise
On The Edge Of Honour we see the light
of the Unicorn soaring the night
Lead: both
Born to conquer the fight,
here we stand with the Future in our hands
Through fire well rise to touch the sky
Solo: Stefan
Oooh
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Horrors of Majuba
'Twas after the great Majuba fight:
And the next morning, at daylight,
Captain Macbean's men were ordered to headquarters camp,
So immediately Captain Macbean and his men set out on tramp.
And there they were joined by the Blue Jackets and 58th men,
Who, for unflinching courage, no man can them condemn;
And that brave little band was commissioned to bury their dead,
And the little band numbered in all about one hundred.
And they were supplied with a white flag, fit emblem of death,
Then they started off to O'Neill's farm, with bated breath,
Where their comrades had been left the previous night,
And were lying weltering in their gore, oh! what a horrible sight.
And when they arrived at the foot of Majuba Hill,
They were stopped by a Boer party, but they meant no ill,
Who asked them what they wanted without dismay,
And when they said, their dead, there was no further delay.
Then the brave heroes marched on, without any dread,
To the Hill of Majuba to collect and bury their dead;
And to see them climbing Majuba it was a fearful sight,
And much more so on a dark pitch night.
And on Majuba there was a row of dead men,
Numbering about forty or fifty of them;
There were also numbers of wounded men lying on the ground,
And when Captain Macbean's party gazed on them their sorrow was profound.
Oh, heaven! what a sight of blood and brains!
While the grass was red all o'er with blood-stains;
Especially at the edge of the Hill, where the 92nd men were killed,
'Twas there that the eyes of Macbean's party with tears filled,
When they saw their dead and dying comrades in arms,
Who were always foremost in the fight during war's alarms;
But who were now lying dead on Majuba Hill,
And, alas! beyond the aid of all human skill.
They then went about two hundred yards down the Hill,
And collected fourteen more bodies, which made their blood run chill;
And, into one grave, seventy-five bodies they buried there,
All mostly 92nd men, who, I hope, are free from all care.
Oh! think of that gallant British band,
Who, at Majuba, made such a heroic stand,
And, take them altogether, they behaved like brave men,
But, alas! they were slaughtered like sheep in a pen.
Poor fellows! there were few of them left to retire,
Because undauntedly they faced that murderous fire,
That the mighty host poured in upon them, left and right,
From their numerous rifles, day and night.
The conduct of the 92nd was most brave throughout,
Which has always been the case, without any doubt;
At least, it has been the case in general with the Highland Brigade,
Because in the field they are the foremost, and seldom afraid.
And to do the British justice at Majuba they behaved right well,
But by overwhelming numbers the most of them fell,
Which I'm very sorry to relate,
That such a brave little band met with such a fate.
The commanders and officers deserve great praise,
Because they told their men to hold Majuba for three days;
And so they did, until the most of them fell,
Fighting nobly for their Queen and country they loved right well.
But who's to blame for their fate I'm at a loss to know,
But I think 'twas by fighting too numerous a foe;
But there's one thing I know, and, in conclusion, will say,
That their fame will be handed down to posterity for many a day!
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Let's Remember Those Soldiers
Let's remember those soldiers
No matter alive or dead
Hold them dear to our hearts
And keep their memories in our heads
Let's remember those soldiers
As they fight on foreign lands
And pray they make it back home
Because it is all up to Gods hands
Let's remember those soldiers
And the hell they are going through
Praise them when they get home
For all they've done for me and you
Let's remember those soldiers
And their families they left behind
Should you know some of these families
Try and treat them a little more kind
Let's remember those soldiers
They are fighting for our rights
Before you go to sleep tonight
Say a prayer for them tonight
Let's remember those soldiers
And let them know that we care
But for the grace of God
We might be the ones over there
Let's remember those soldiers
And let's wish them all the best
May they all make it back home
So we all can get some rest
Let's remember those soldiers
Even ones from wars of the past
Though some are dead and gone
Let's make sure their memories last
Let's remember those soldiers
And docs and nurses in those camps
Taking care of the wounded
Let's put their faces on postage stamps
Let's remember those soldiers
And not just count them as a loss
For they are truely the ones
That pay the ultimate cost
wrote 3/7/2008 by Norman Hale Jr.
poem by Norman Hale
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Double Vision
Feeling down n dirty, feeling kinda mean
Ive been from one to another extreme
This time I had a good time, aint got time to wait
I wanna stick around till I cant see straight
Fill my eyes with that double vision, no disguise for that double vision
Ooh, when it gets through to me, its always new to me
My double vision gets the best of me
Never do more than I really need
My mind is racing, but my bodys in the lead
Tonights the night, Im gonna push it to the limit
I live all of my years in a single minute
Fill my eyes with that double vision, no disguise for that double vision
Ooh, when it gets through to me, its always new to me
My double vision always seems to get the best of me - the best of me, yeah
Ooh, double vision, I need my double vision
It takes me out of my head, takin me out of my head
I get my double vision, oh, seeing double double
Oh, I have double vision, yeah, Im getting double vision... (to fade)
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scandal
Aren't there bigger things to talk about
Than a window in Greenwich Village
And hyacinths sprouting
Like little puce poems out of a sick soul?
Some cosmic hearsay—
As to whom—it can't be Mars! put the moon—that way….
Or what winds do to canyons
Under the tall stars…
Or even
How that old roué, Neptune,
Cranes over his bald-head moons
At the twinkling heel of a sky-scraper.
poem by Lola Ridge
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Darkness Of...
Darkness is not the darkness of night
it is the darkness of mind and soul.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of discrimination between poor and rich.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of dishonesty.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of aggravate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is darkness of corruption.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of indiscipline.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of animosity.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of inveterate.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness of perjury.
darkness is not the darkness of night,
it is the darkness that we all brought up inside us,
so, light the lamp of light inside you...
poem by Suniya Garg
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Dawgs of War
Comes the British bulldog first—solid as a log—
He’s so ugly in repose that he’s a handsome dog;
Full of mild benevolence as his years increase;
Silent as a china dog on the mantelpiece.
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and in he goes,
To the thick of Britain’s foes—
Enemies behind him close—
(
Silence for a while
).
Comes a very different dog—tell him at a glance.
Clipped and trimmed and frilled all round. Dandy dog of France.
(Always was a dandy dog, no matter what his age)
Now his every hair and frill is stiff as wire with rage.
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and in he goes,
While behind him France’s foes
Reel and surge and pack and close.
(
Silence for a while
.)
Next comes Belgium’s market dog—hard to realise.
Go-cart dog and barrow dog—he’s a great surprise.
Dog that never hurt a cat, did no person harm;
Friendly, kindly, round and fat as a “Johnny Darm.”
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and in he goes,
At the flank of Belgium’s foes
Who could not behind him close—
(
Silence for a while
).
Next comes Servia’s mongrel pup—mongrel dawgs can fight;
Up or down, or down or up, whether wrong or right.
He was mad the other day—he is mad today,
Hustling round and raising dust in his backyard way.
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and in he goes,
’Twixt the legs of Servia’s foes,
Biting tails and rearmost toes—
(
Silence for a while
.)
There are various terrier dawgs mixed up in the scrap,
Much too small for us to see, and too mad to yap.
Each one, on his frantic own—heard the row commence—
Tore with tooth and claw a hole in the backyard fence.
No one called, but in they go,
Dogs with many a nameless woe,
Tripping up their common foe—
(
Silence for a while
).
From the snows of Canada, dragging box and bale,
Comes the sledge-dog toiling on, sore-foot from the trail.
He’ll be useful in the trench, when the nose is blue—
Winter dog that knows the French and the English too.
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and in he goes,
At his father’s country’s foes,
And his mother’s country’s foes.
(
Silence for a while
.)
See, in sunny Southern France a dog that runs by sight,
Lean and yellow, sharp of nose, long of leg and light,
Silent and bloodthirsty, too; Distance in his eyes,
Leaping high to gain his view, the Kangaroo Dog flies!
Rub his sides and point his nose,
Click your tongue and up he goes,
Lands amongst his country’s foes—
And his country’s country’s foes;
While they sway and while they close—
(
Silence for a while
).
See across the early snow, far across the plain,
Where the clouds are grey and low and winter comes again;
By the sand-dune and the marsh—and forest black and dumb—
As dusky white as their winter’s night, the Russian wolf-hounds come!
(
Silence for a while
.)
poem by Henry Lawson
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Bombers
Look up I hear the scream of sirens on the wall
I see a policeman crying in the backseat of a dying ford
Hotel waiters leave the bedrooms of stars
Who are far too old
And no-one ever told me
That I could be so cold
Bombers fight at zero feet
Bombers fight at zero
I see an old man knocked to the ground
And beaten by the vicars wife
No-one stops to help theyre far too busy
Trying to save their own lives
A tiny girl screams for mother
And wanders out into the street
I saw her going down underneath
A thousand peoples running feet
Bombers fight at zero feet
Bombers fight at zero
All the junkies pulling needles from their arms
Hope it lasts all night
And all the soldiers curse the day they joined the army
And prepare to fight
In silent bars, in silent rooms, in silent cars
You hide where you can
And me I know just where you are, you see
Im a bomber man
Bombers fight at zero feet
Bombers fight at zero
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O silent night, O holy night, O night divine!
A silent night. It was a long, long silent night.
The hopes and dreams were lost for many years.
The sin's chains kept the cages full.
The wings were broken, nobody could fly,
The prophecies were forgotten, with no freedom in the sight.
O silent night, O holy night,
The hope is shining over the lost world, again.
The stars, filled with wonder,
join the angels clothed in light,
and sing a majestic song together.
At the break of dawn, at the edge of the village,
a Savior is born and laid in a manger.
O silent night, O holy night,
The King of Kings, a humble birth
Goodwill to men and peace on Earth!
Knees of clay pray in silence,
We bring gifts to the newborn King,
On the love's altar, the hearts are burning,
The souls grow wings and fly to kiss the heavens.
It snows slowly with flakes of blessings over the Earth,
The smiling Child has secretly given me a star.
I keep it forever in my heart to remind me of this Christmas Night.
It is mine. It shines, and it shines...
O silent night, O holy night, O night divine!
poem by Marius Alexandru (12 December 2020)
Submitted by anonym
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The Day The Sun Stood Still
We were young and bound for glory
Itchin' for a fight like you
Bringin' hell and purgatory
To the boys who wore the blue
And I thought I'd seen it all
Till the day night wouldn't fall
Oh, how the sun did blaze
Wouldn't go down for days
I got shot and lost my rifle
When the first wave hit the rise
And the guns rolled out like thunder
And the black smoke burned my eyes
And I watched it all unfold
Just the way the Bible told
Joshua's endless day
Keepin' the night at bay
And the soldiers kept a comin'
Til the ground looked like a sea
Of blue and grey
And I watched it from a distance
Wonderin' if I would've fought or run away
The day the sun stood still
How they beat the bloody drums
And the seconds moved like hours
But the sunset never comes
And the cannons shake the ground
And the bullets test your will
Even shadows found no cover
On that Godforsaken hill
The day the sun stood still
And I watched them lean their shoulders
To the fearful hail of lead
And I prayed for night to save us
And I cried and bowed my head
Bt the sun just kept a-creepin'
'Cross a cold indifferent sky
Castin' a deadly glow
On all the men below
All the hours in a lifetime
Don't add up to one while minute in that sun
And the heroes and the cowards
Look the same when they have fallen by the gun
The day the sun stood still
And the north and south looked west
But the evening star was sleeping
And the daylight wouldn't rest
Out on the killing floor
The red sun on the the hill
Shinin' down on all the dead men
With a strange and eerie chill
The day the sun stood still
-a
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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