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The Old Squire

I LIKE the hunting of the hare
Better than that of the fox;
I like the joyous morning air,
And the crowing of the cocks.

I like the calm of the early fields,
The ducks asleep by the lake,
The quiet hour which Nature yields
Before mankind is awake.

I like the pheasants and feeding things
Of the unsuspicious morn;
I like the flap of the wood-pigeon’s wings
As she rises from the corn.

I like the blackbird’s shriek, and his rush
From the turnips as I pass by,
And the partridge hiding her head in a bush,
For her young ones cannot fly.

I like these things, and I like to ride,
When all the world is in bed,
To the top of the hill where the sky grows wide,
And where the sun grows red.

The beagles at my horse heels trot
In silence after me;
There ’s Ruby, Roger, Diamond, Dot,
Old Slut and Margery,—

A score of names well used, and dear,
The names my childhood knew;
The horn, with which I rouse their cheer,
Is the horn my father blew.

I like the hunting of the hare
Better than that of the fox;
The new world still is all less fair
Than the old world it mocks.

I covet not a wider range
Than these dear manors give;
I take my pleasures without change,
And as I lived I live.

I leave my neighbors to their thought;
My choice it is, and pride,
On my own lands to find my sport,
In my own fields to ride.

The hare herself no better loves
The field where she was bred,
Than I the habit of these groves,
My own inherited.

I know my quarries every one,
The meuse where she sits low;
The road she chose to-day was run
A hundred years ago.

The lags, the gills, the forest ways,
The hedgerows one and all,
These are the kingdoms of my chase,
And bounded by my wall;

Nor has the world a better thing,
Though one should search it round,
Than thus to live one’s own sole king,
Upon one’s own sole ground.

I like the hunting of the hare;
It brings me, day by day,
The memory of old days as fair,
With dead men passed away.

To these, as homeward still I ply
And pass the churchyard gate,
Where all are laid as I must lie,
I stop and raise my hat.

I like the hunting of the hare;
New sports I hold in scorn.
I like to be as my fathers were,
In the days e’er I was born.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Related quotes

Hari Chrishna

People with light orange cloaks
comes pass in a jolly procession.
There are two hitting drums
and one sings over a loudspeaker horn
and I see a few
getting rattling noises out of cymbals
that makes the people
on the sidewalk stand still
while the small group of people
draws attention and pass.

It’s a shrill “hare krishna hare krishna
krishna krishna hare hare
hare rama hare rama
rama rama hare hare”
that goes right through you
and I wonder
what the strange words
are exactly saying
and I hear how the drums
keeps the earthly rhythm
and it’s like a street circus
that disappears in the distance
while they disappear behind buildings.

poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lord Krishna

O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

You are the embodiment of love
you are the divine joy,
you are protector of the religion
all pain and sin, you destroy.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

Wicked and cruel king Kansa
put your parents in prison.
You released them from jail
appeared as Vishnu's incarnation.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

As child you led cow herds
had great love for your mother
Grown with magic of your flute
as hero loved by peers and others
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

Kansa sent sinful Putana to kill you
by feeding breast's poisoned milk.
She herself was met to her end
you sucked blood, failed her trick.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

He was desperate to kill my Lord
So he sent many other demons.
You defeated all of the demons
killed his wicked men one by one.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

Supported villagers and cattle,
lifted mountain to make shelter,
You killed poisonous snake in river
where cattle used to drink water.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

Always blessed, who followed your path
taught Arjuna lessons of truth and war.
You turned result of Mahabharat war
into the victory of righteous Pandwas.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

You come on earth again and again
to save it; in various incarnations.
Without you my Lord! I am nothing
in this universe, nothing can happen.
O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

poem by S.D. Tiwari
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The Changes At The Un

I spent my youth with a gun and a dog in the fields of Clare,
Hunting rabbits and pheasants and ducks and fast running hare,
So the long tail feathers of the cock pheasants, I knew well,
Then I became a member Canadian navel personnel.

At the UN in the mid 50s looking down from balcony,
A pheasant feather in a lady’s hat amid UN pageantry,
Sitting down there at the Irish desk but she didn’t care,
That the face on the balcony came all the way from County Clare.

But those were the days when the UN had a very good name,
Not like nowadays when so many tend to viciously complain,
But that was very long ago and I was much younger then,
Am I the only one who noticed the change, now among the old men?

JAN 19th,2011

poem by James Bredin
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From The Banks Of Ganga: V

I open my eyes
Non-light on the Ganga
Breaking into dawn
A la Kubja stood as if waiting
For me to open my eyes
Kabhie Krishna ko dekha?
Chalo meri saath!

Like a mute animal
I follow her into a chamber
Where a marble Krishna welcomed me
How long did I sit in His presence?
Hare Rama hare rama
Rama Rama Hare hare
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
My own chanting
Reverberating in my ears

There flowed Ganga
In bright sunlight…

poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Hunters Lullaby

Your fathers gone a-hunting
Hes deep in the forest so wild
And he cannot take his wife with him
He cannot take his child
Your fathers gone a-hunting
In the quicksand and the clay
And a woman cannot follow him
Although she knows the way
Your fathers gone a-hunting
Through the silver and the glass
Where only greed can enter
But spirit, spirit cannot pass
Your fathers gone a-hunting
For the beast well never cannot bind
And he leaves a baby sleeping
And his blessings all behind
Your fathers gone a-hunting
And hes lost his lucky charm
And hes lost the guardian heart
That keeps the hunter from the harm
Your fathers gone a-hunting
He asked me to say goodbye
And he warned me not to stop him
I wouldnt, I wouldnt even try

song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Death Of A Hare

He ran across in front of his car confused in the headlight's glare
He heard a bump he could not stop he knew he had killed the hare
Another car followed close behind so he had to drive on
'Twas not his fault though that in itself of no consolation to Ron.

And though the hare he could not avoid about it he feels bad
For the creature his car killed last night today he does feel sad
Though the hare he did have a quick end and did not suffer any pain
That his car should have caused it's death the regret with him does remain.

When he tells his friends about last night they tell him it's okay
The poor hare you could not avoid such things happen every day
That was how the hare was meant to die it was it's destiny
At least it did not suffer pain and death came suddenly.

A wildborn creature dead on the roadway is not an uncommon sight
But he does feel quite sad today that he killed a hare last night
He is compassionate of heart his type of person rare
It saddens him to think last night he caused the death of a hare.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Story Of The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles

This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.
Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching. sitting on a
Fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close
By.
Now this may not seem strange, but when owl overheard kangaroo whisper
To no one in particular, ''the hare has lost his spectacles, well, he
Began to wonder.
Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on
The grass was hare. in the stream that flowed by the grass -- a
Newt. and sitting astride a twig of a bush -- a bee.
Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement, for
Without his spectacles he was completely helpless. where were his
Spectacles? could someone have stolen them? had he mislaid them? what
Was he to do?
Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began: ''you
Probably ate them thinking they were a carrot.
''no! interrupted owl, who was wise. ''i have good eye-sight, insight,
And foresight. how could an intelligent hare make such a silly
Mistake? but all this time, owl had been sitting on the fence,
Scowling!
Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk. she thought herself
Far superior in intelligence to the others. she was their leader;
Their guru. she had the answer: ''hare, you must go in search of the
Optician.
But then she realized that hare was completely helpless without his
Spectacles. and so, kangaroo loudly proclaimed, ''i cant send hare in
Search of anything!
''you can guru, you can! shouted newt. ''you can send him with owl.
But owl had gone to sleep. newt knew too much to be stopped by so
Small a problem -- ''you can take him in your pouch. but alas, hare
Was much too big to fit into kangaroos pouch.
All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew
Nothing about spectacles.
As for all their tempting ideas, well hare didnt care.
The lost spectacles were his own affair.
And after all, hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.

song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Durer's Hare

Vivid
as Durer's hare

as if my eyes had drawn
each & every hair

knew personally
each strand

its coat moving softly
in the breeze

moving with the rhythm
of its breathing

a real live hare
an inch and an eternity away

hanging out with us

humans
as if we weren't humans

just
other hares

almost expecting him
to say hello

being with us
us being with him

upon a bank
of sunlight

as if we were
passangers

at a bus stop waiting

for a bus that never
comes

twitching a nostril
scratching itself

my uncle & I stare
as long as forever is

not moving
a muscle

as if were the only humans
in an animal's world

two living statues un-
-til...

with a blurr of speed
my uncle karated chopped it

the hare
instantly an animal
in a human's world

Durer's hare
nothing now but

a bubbling
in a stew pot

but still my living
work of art

as the sun loses its way
and as day becomes night

Always remember this
I thought

'Humans will always be humans! '

Even uncles!

i cried myself
to sleep that night

siding with the rabbits.

poem by Dónall Dempsey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hare wooing rabbit

‘It is there! Very much there!
Go and catch the mare
before she comes to glare’.
[ a hare was told]

‘How can you dare
come and at me stare?
You can’t get me bare’.
[a rabbit retirted]

‘No hunter can hear
the consent of a hare
before he goes to snare’.

‘No hunter is held dear,
I am a hare neither.
I shall drive you thither’.

‘If I were not a hunter,
will come some hunter,
who will, you the whole, plunder’.

‘I shall put across a barrier,
will soon seek some warrior
in whose arm to slither.’

‘Then why not am I that lad?
I shall make you glad
and serve you salad.’

No, you are a nerd;
your motive is absurd.
I can’t be assured.’

The she-rabbit fled the he-hare.
25.12.2000, Pm

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Brainwashed

Brainwashed in our childhood
Brainwashed by the school
Brainwashed by our teachers
and brainwashed by their rules
Brainwashed by our leaders
By our Kings and Queens
Brainwashed in the open and brainwashed
behind the scenes
God God God
A voice cried in the wilderness
God God God
it was on the longest night
God God God
An eternity of darkness
God God God
Someone turned out the spiritual light
Brainwashed by the Nikkei
Brainwashed by Dow Jones
Brainwashed by the FTSE
Nasdaq and secure loans
Brainwashed us from Brussels
Brainwashing us in Bonn
Brainwashing us in Washington
Westminster in London
God God God
You are the wisdom that we seek
God God God
The lover that we miss
God God God
Your nature is eternity
God God God
You are Existance, Knowlwedge, Bliss
The soul does not love, it is love itself
It does not exist, It is existence itself
It does not know, It is knowledge itself
"How to Know God" Page 130
They brainwashed my great uncle
Brainwashed my cousin Bob
They even got my grandma when she was
working for the mob
Brainwash you while you're sleeping
While you're in a traffic jam
Brainwash you while you're weeping
While still a baby in your pram
Brainwashed by the Military
Brainwashed under duress
Brainwashed by the media
You're brainwashed by the press
Brainwashed by computer
Brainwashed by mobile phones
Brainwashed by the satellite
Brainwashed to the bone
God God God
Won't you lead us through this mess
God God God
From the places of concrete
God God God
Nothing's worse than ignorance
God God God
I just won't accept defeat
God God God
Must be something I forgot
God God God
Down on Bullshit Avenue
God God God
If we can only stop the rot
God God God
Wish that you'd brainwash us too
Namah Parvarti Pataye Hare Hare Mahadev
Namah Parvarti Pataye Hare Hare
Namah Parvarti Pataye Hare Hare
Shiva Shiva Shankara Mahadeva
Hare Hare Hare Hare Mahadeva
Shiva Shiva Shankara Mahadeva
Shiva Shiva Shankara Mahadeva
Namah Parvarti Pataya Hare Hare
Namah Parvarti Pataye Hare Hare
Shiva Shiva Shankara Mahadeva
Shiva Shiva Shankara Mahadeva

song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Lament

The merry merry lark was up and singing,
And the hare was out and feeding on the lea;
And the merry merry bells below were ringing,
When my child's laugh rang through me.

Now the hare is snared and dead beside the snow-yard,
And the lark beside the dreary winter sea;
And the baby in his cradle in the churchyard
Sleeps sound till the bell brings me.

Eversley, 1848.

poem by Charles Kingsley
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Hare Krishna, prayer

O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Krishna! Krishna!

You are the embodiment of love
you are the divine joy,
you are protector of the religion
all pain and sin, you destroy.
O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

Wicked and cruel king Kansa
put your parents in prison.
You released them from jail
appeared as Vishnu's incarnation.

O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare....

As child you led cow herds
had great love for your mother
Grown with magic of your flute
as hero loved by peers and others