Related quotes: Alas alas! my power is...

The Ex Official's Lament

Alas alas! my power is gone;
I thought 'twould last for ever;
But now 'tis over, I must own,
They've done it very clever.
I could have feather'd well my nest,
If I had been permitted;
To that intent I did my best,
To have my friend acquitted.
'Congratulatory address'
I also did procure him.
Among my influential class
And thought this must secure him.
In fact, I left no means untried,
To smother up the matter,
And on my influence relied,
To stop the diggers' chatter.
But rumours soon got spread about,
Of this our camp proceeding;
And very soon we all found out,
That discontent was breeding.
At last, the diggers on the place,
Determined to assemble:-
Which, when I saw I must confess;
I inwardly did tremble.
And yet to awe the vulgar crowd,
I got the troopers round me;
When groans and hisses long and loud,
Completely did confound me.
My brethren then with all their might,
Endeavoured to allay them:-
When lo! it rose to such a height;
No speech of ours could stay them.
I, always thought the common herd
Should render blind submission:-
Should ne'er have once presumed or dared
To question our decision.
But, now they talk about their 'rights',
As much as their superiors:-
Though 'Gentlemen' I'm certain quite,
All view them as inferiors.
Could we but get them down once more,
We'd hold them in such fetters,
As would restrain them evermore,
From meddling with their betters.
But, now, alas! I see no way,
To gratify my wishes:-
With all our schemes we've lost the day,
For getting loaves and fishes.
Intelligence is gaining ground,
We can hold out no longer:-
Where'er I cast my eyes around,
The 'league' is getting stronger.
Left to our fate, we can but grieve,
To see their ranks increasing:
Oh! could we have have a short reprieve,
The diggers to be fleecing.

poem by William Gay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes

The Diggers

The diggers are digging, and digging deep,
They’re digging and singing,
And I’m asleep.
They’re digging and singing and swiftly they’re swinging
The flying earth as it falls in a heap.
And some of it scatters and falls on my head;
But the diggers dig on. They can only dig.
They can only sing and their eyes are big,
Their eyes are big and heavy as lead.
They dig and they sing and they think I’m dead

The diggers are digging, and filling the hole.
They’re sighing and singing.
They pray for my soul.
I hear what they say, and from where I am lying,
I hear a new corporal calling the roll.
But the diggers dig on and fill in my bed,
They diggers dig on, and they sweat and they sweat.
They sigh and they sign, and their wyes are wet.
The brown earth clatters and covers my head;
Then I laugh and I laugh, for they think that I’m dead.

poem by Leon Gellert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Alas my Rose

Alas my rose

Stole my youth years
I love the hands were
Happened to me does not smell roses
Alas Alas rose my rose
I do not know my carpet what happens when

I've been nomadic cranes
I had ants on the road
I remember one dear
Alas Alas rose rose
Did not hurt me cruel...

Weird strange world
I got called in Konya
Shabby wrote my tag
Oh, my dear rose rose
Was not keep my hands, slice..

İnce waist, did not hold
friend not formed into the hands of
I do not get Muradiye
Rose Alas, alas rose
My arm was broken wings..

sabit ince Kayseri 05/10/2012

poem by Sabit Ince
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ball And Chain

(Colin Moulding)
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
oh yeah,
The diggers and the tower cranes,
The diggers and the tower cranes.
Don't want demolition,
Don't want your compensation,
It's not just bricks and mortar,
We are lambs to slaughter.
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
oh yeah,
The diggers and the tower cranes,
The diggers and the tower cranes.
Must we live in fear,
From those who shed no tears?
Our one and only shelter,
Your games, your helter skelter.
Motorways and office blocks,
They're standing on the spot
Where stood a home,
Crushing on the memories of people,
Who have since turned to stone.
(Ahh)
They've turned to stone,
(Ahh)
They've turned to stone.
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
oh yeah,
The diggers and the tower cranes,
The diggers and the tower cranes.

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ball & Chain

(colin moulding)
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
Oh yeah,
The diggers and the tower cranes,
The diggers and the tower cranes.
Dont want demolition,
Dont want your compensation,
Its not just bricks and mortar,
We are lambs to slaughter.
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
Oh yeah,
The diggers and the tower cranes,
The diggers and the tower cranes.
Must we live in fear,
From those who shed no tears?
Our one and only shelter,
Your games, your helter skelter.
Motorways and office blocks,
Theyre standing on the spot
Where stood a home,
Crushing on the memories of people,
Who have since turned to stone.
(ahh)
Theyve turned to stone,
(ahh)
Theyve turned to stone.
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
Save us from the ball and chain,
Oh yeah,
The diggers and the tower cranes,
The diggers and the tower cranes.

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ay Me, Ay Me, I Sigh the Scythe A-field

Ay me, ay me, I sigh to see the scythe a-field;
Down goeth the grass, soon wrought to wither'd hay:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that beauty needs must yield,
And princes pass, as grass doth fade away.

Ay me, ay me, that life can not have lasting leave,
Nor gold take hold of everlasting joy:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that time hath talents to receive,
And yet no time can make a suer stay.

Ay me, ay me, that wit can not have wished choice,
Nor wish can win that will desires to see:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that mirth can promise no rejoice,
Nor study tell what afterward shall be.

Ay me, ay me, that no sure staff is given to age,
Nor age can give sure wit that youth will take:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that no counsel wise and sage
Will shun the show that all doth mar and make.

Ay me, ay me, come, Time, shear on and shake thy hay,
It is no boot to balk thy bitter blows:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, come, Time, take everything away,
For all is thine, be it good or bad, that grows.

poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Loved a Lass

I loved a lass, a fair one,
As fair as e’er was seen;
She was indeed a rare one,
Another Sheba Queen:
But, fool as then I was,
I thought she loved me too:
But now, alas! she’s left me,
Falero, lero, loo!
Her hair like gold did glister,
Each eye was like a star,
She did surpass her sister,
Which pass’d all others far;
She would me ‘honey’ call,
She’d—O she’d kiss me too!
But now, alas! she’s left me,
Falero, lero, loo!
In summer time to Medley
My love and I would go;
The boatmen there stood read’ly
My love and me to row.
For cream there would we call,
For cakes and for prunes too;
But now, alas! she’s left me,
Falero, lero, loo!
Her cheeks were like the cherry,
Her skin was white as snow;
When she was blithe and merry
She angel-like did show;
Her waist exceeding small,
The fives did fit her shoe:
But now, alas! she’s left me,
Falero, lero, loo!
In summer time or winter
She had her heart’s desire;
I still did scorn to stint her
From sugar, sack, or fire;
The world went round about,
No cares we ever knew:
But now, alas! she’s left me,
Falero, lero, loo!
To maidens’ vows and swearing
Henceforth no credit give;
You may give them the hearing,
But never them believe;
They are as false as fair,
Unconstant, frail, untrue:
For mine, alas! hath left me,
Falero, lero, loo!

poem by George Wither
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mourning

Alas my brother! the cry of the mourners of old
That cried on each other,
All crying aloud on the dead as the death-note rolled,
Alas my brother!

As flashes of dawn that mists from an east wind smother
With fold upon fold,
The past years gleam that linked us one with another.

Time sunders hearts as of brethren whose eyes behold
No more their mother:
But a cry sounds yet from the shrine whose fires wax cold,
Alas my brother!

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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John Daniel

(Dolly Parton)
John Daniel came to town one summer afternoon
Wearin' dirty work clothes so everyone presumed
He was just another logger from the loggin' camp nearby
And he was, but there was somethin' different in John Daniel's eyes
John Daniel was a young man, not more than twenty-four
And there was an air about him that one could not ignore
And in spite of callused hands & dirty clothes, his face was kind
And I wanted so to know what was in John Daniel's mind
John Daniel, tell me where did you come from; tell me where is it you've been
John Daniel, tell me why are you different from all of these other men
John Daniel, there's somethin' about you that I don't quite understand
John Daniel, do you hold the answer to a higher plan?
I rented him a room; he went upstairs like all the rest
It was Saturday and he'd be goin' in to town, I guessed
But he left in a robe and sandals, with a Bible in his hand;
And I thought to myself, John Daniel, I don't understand
Now I'd planned to meet some friends of mine when I got off at three,
In the park we often gather to talk of love and peace
When I got there I found that a crowd had gathered 'round;
And there I saw John Daniel a sittin' on the ground
John Daniel, tell me where did you come from; tell me where is it you've been
John Daniel, tell me why are you different from all of these other men
John Daniel, there's somethin' about you that I don't quite understand
John Daniel, do you hold the answer to a higher plan?
So, "You want to be free," he said, "Well, this is how you can."
As he read from the Bible he held in his hand
We were searchin' for the truth not knowin' where to look,
Not knowin' that the answers all were in John Daniel's book
John Daniel told us all how we could be free
John Daniel taught us all a better way for you and me
He came to us in our own way so we'd be sure to see
He had the light and essence of the man from Galilee
John Daniel, tell me where did you come from; tell me where is it you've been
John Daniel, tell me why are you different from all of these other men
John Daniel, there's something about you that I don't quite understand
John Daniel, do you hold the answer to a higher plan?
John Daniel, John Daniel, John Daniel
John Daniel do you hold the answer to a higher plan?
John Daniel came to town one summer afternoon
Wearin' dirty work clothes so everyone presumed
He was just another logger from the loggin' camp nearby
And he was, but there was somethin' different in John Daniel's eyes
Ooh, John Daniel, tell me where did you come from
Tell me where is it you've been
John Daniel, tell me why are you different from all of these other men
John Daniel, there's something about you that I don't quite understand
John Daniel, do you hold the answer to a higher plan?

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eureka

Roll up, Eureka's heroes, on that grand Old Rush afar,
For Lalor's gone to join you in the big camp where you are;
Roll up and give him welcome such as only diggers can,
For well he battled for the rights of miner and of Man.
In that bright golden country that lies beyond our sight,
The record of his honest life shall be his Miner's Right;
But many a bearded mouth shall twitch, and many a tear be shed,
And many a grey old digger sigh to hear that Lalor's dead.
Yet wipe your eyes, old fossickers, o'er worked-out fields that roam,
You need not weep at parting from a digger going home.
Now from the strange wild seasons past, the days of golden strife,
Now from the Roaring Fifties comes a scene from Lalor's life:
All gleaming white amid the shafts o'er gully, hill and flat
Again I see the tents that form the camp at Ballarat.
I hear the shovels and the picks, and all the air is rife
With the rattle of the cradles and the sounds of digger-life;
The clatter of the windlass-boles, as spinning round they go,
And then the signal to his mate, the digger's cry, "Below!"
From many a busy pointing-forge the sound of labour swells,
The tinkling of the anvils is as clear as silver bells.
I hear the broken English from the mouth of many a one
From every state and nation that is known beneath the sun;
The homely tongue of Scotland and the brogue of Ireland blend
With the dialects of England, right from Berwick to Lands End;
And to the busy concourse here the States have sent a part,
The land of gulches that has been immortalised by Harte;
The land where long from mining-camps the blue smoke upward curled;
The land that gave the "Partner" true and "Mliss" unto the world;
The men from all the nations in the New World and the Old,
All side by side, like brethren here, are delving after gold.
But suddenly the warning cries are heard on every side
As closing in around the field, a ring of troopers ride,
Unlicensed diggers are the game--their class and want are sins,
And so with all its shameful scenes, the digger hunt begins.
The men are seized who are too poor the heavy tax to pay,
Chained man to man as convicts were, and dragged in gangs away.
Though in the eyes of many a man the menace scarce was hid,
The diggers' blood was slow to boil, but scalded when it did.

But now another match is lit that soon must fire the charge
"Roll up! Roll up!" the poignant cry awakes the evening air,
And angry faces surge like waves around the speakers there.
"What are our sins that we should be an outlawed class?" they say,
"Shall we stand by while mates are seized and dragged like lags away?
Shall insult be on insult heaped? Shall we let these things go?"
And with a roar of voices comes the diggers' answer--"No!"
The day has vanished from the scene, but not the air of night
Can cool the blood that, ebbing back, leaves brows in anger white.
Lo, from the roof of Bentley's Inn the flames are leaping high;
They write "Revenge!" in letters red across the smoke-dimmed sky.
"To arms! To arms!" the cry is out; "To arms and play your part;
For every pike upon a pole will find a tyrant's heart!"
Now Lalor comes to take the lead, the spirit does not lag,
And down the rough, wild diggers kneel beneath the Diggers' Flag;
Then, rising to their feet, they swear, while rugged hearts beat high,
To stand beside their leader and to conquer or to die!
Around Eureka's stockade now the shades of night close fast,
Three hundred sleep beside their arms, and thirty sleep their last.

About the streets of Melbourne town the sound of bells is borne
That call the citizens to prayer that fateful Sabbath morn;
But there upon Eureka's hill, a hundred miles away,
The diggers' forms lie white and still above the blood-stained clay.
The bells that toll the diggers' death might also ring a knell
For those few gallant soldiers, dead, who did their duty well.
The sight of murdered heroes is to hero-hearts a goad,
A thousand men are up in arms upon the Creswick road,
And wildest rumours in the air are flying up and down,
'Tis said the men of Ballarat will march on Melbourne town.
But not in vain those diggers died. Their comrades may rejoice,
For o'er the voice of tyranny is heard the people's voice;
It says: "Reform your rotten law, the diggers' wrongs make right,
Or else with them, our brothers now, we'll gather to the fight."

'Twas of such stuff the men were made who saw our nation born,
And such as Lalor were the men who led the vanguard on;
And like such men may we be found, with leaders such as they,
In the roll-up of Australians on our darkest, grandest day!

poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Can vei la lauzeta

When I see the lark joyfully moving its wings against the sun's rays, and falling because of the sweetness that enters its heart, ah! a great envy comes upon me of all those who I see happy. I am astonished that my heart does not melt with desire.
Alas! I thought I knew so much about love, and I know so little, because I cannot stop loving the one from whom I will never obtain anything. She has taken my heart, myself, herself, and the whole world, and has left me with nothing but yearning and a languishing heart.

I no longer have power over myself, and am no longer my own person, from the moment when she lets me look into her eyes, that mirror that pleases me so. Mirror, since I am mirrored in you, my sighs have caused my death, for I am lost just as Narcissus lost himself in the fountain.

I despair of women; never more shall I trust them. As once I exalted them, now shall I cast them down. Since I see that not one of them is for me against she who destroys and confounds me, I doubt and mistrust them all, since I well know they are all the same.

And in this I see that my lady is very much a woman, and that is why I criticize her. For she does not want that which she should want, and that which she is forbidden, she does. I am fallen very low, and I have acted like the fool on the bridge. And I don't know why this has happened to me, unless it's because I tried to mount too high.

Since nothing works any more with my lady - neither prayers nor pity nor my rights concerning her; and since it no longer pleases her that I love her, I will never more say it to her. And so I take my leave and go away from her. She has killed me, and I respond to her with death. And I leave, since she doesn't retain me, I the unhappy one, into exile, I know not where

poem by Bernard de Ventadorn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All I Ask

Stumbling down a road lined with signs
It's obvious I'm in the wrong direction
But I won't stop now you know I feel fine
Just looking for some affection
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
I figure it won't be long it won't be hard
Just gotta get my feet back on the ground
Just gotten a hold of some unlucky cards
And I have yet to make another round
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water
No one lent a hand, no one laid a look upon me
Invisible to everything but blame
No, and no one cared to tell, no one dared to believe in anything
And left me to drown in this pain
And all I ask is to be able to hold on longer
And all I ask is to be able to walk on water
Walk on water

song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Friend's Song for Simoisius

The breath of dew, and twilight's grace,
Be on the lonely battle-place;
And to so young, so kind a face,
The long, protecting grasses cling!
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)

In rocky hollows cool and deep,
The bees our boyhood hunted sleep;
The early moon from Ida's steep
Comes to the empty wrestling-ring.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)

Upon the widowed wind recede
No echoes of the shepherd's reed,
And children without laughter lead
The war-horse to the watering.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)

Thou stranger Ajax Telamon!
What to the loveliest hast thou done,
That ne'er with him a maid may run
Across the marigolds in spring?
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)

With footstep separate and slow
The father and the mother go,
Not now upon an urn they know
To mingle tears for comforting.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)

The world to me has nothing dear
Beyond the namesake river here:
O Simois is wild and clear!
And to his brink my heart I bring;
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)

My heart no more, if that might be
Would stay his waters from the sea,
To cover Troy, to cover me,
To save us from the perishing.
(Alas, alas,
The one inexorable thing!)

poem by Louise Imogen Guiney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lost & Found

I always used to be afraid
That I was going to lose my way
I never used to walk in line but stray
I never thought I'd see it through
That I could deal with losing you
But suddenly I see the light of day
Leading me in
From out of the night
Staying on course - I'm still alive
I had to confess I never thought I would ever survive
I was lost and found
I had run aground
I was lost but now I'm found
Focused on my altered state
I would just disorientate
Suffering alone amongst the crowd
Drifting on a sea of doubt
And no one ever heard me shout
That I was lost and couldn't find my way
No one at hand
Having no plan
Stumbled through a barren land
After so long
Of going wrong
I found the road
I was lost and found
I had run aground
I was lost but now I'm found
I was lost and found
I had hit the ground
I was lost but now I found
That I don't need no one
To survive
You've got to believe alone
You'll rise
Starting to run
Shedding the load
Now I can see I'm close to home
After so long
Of going wrong
I found the road
I was lost and found
I had run aground
I was lost but now I'm found

song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walhalla

Dark lady of the laggard dawn,
Hiding within her gully deep;
Long have night's curtains been withdrawn
Before her earliest sun-shaft's peep.
And, long before the sun sinks down,
Eve's eager shadows creep her way,
Committing to the sheltered town
Nought but a niggard glimpse of day.

And shy enough she seems these days
Who was, long since, belle of them all;
When booted diggers went their way
Around about her ramparts tall.
Full generous she was and proud,
Proffering gold by ton on ton,
Where once the toiling, teaming crowd
Made most of her ungenerous fun.

For rich she was beyond belief
Full rich enough to make man's strife;
But her youth, like her day, was brief
Too brief, but filled with glamorous life
While her wealth spread her wide renown,
While gold called to man's highest hopes
And urgent diggers crowded round
By these, her mighty timbered slopes.

Now, as calm days come and go
Peaceful her quiet hamlet sleeps
A full three thousand feet below
The far crests of her wooded steeps;
And nought, save gnarled old English trees,
Stir to recall dead day passed on,
To leave her with proud memories
Of great and golden youth long gone.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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No Matter What You Do

(al b. sure/k. west)
Yeah, hey, i never thought i'd feel this way
(...al don't play with me now...)
Please, can you take the hurt away? (...al!)
My love for you is a bottomless well
For your tears and your fears
...and i do love you
No matter what you do i love you yeah all the same
I said no matter what you do
I'll love you oh, all the same
I'll love you oh, all the same
If we take our time i know you'll be mine
If we were to share our love would always be there
No matter what you do
If you decide to go then we will never know
But if...if you'll stay our love would find a way, a way
Oh no i love you
No matter what you do i'll love you yeah all the same
I said no matter what you do
I'll love you oh, all the same
No matter what you do i'll love you yeah all the same
I'll love you oh, all the same
Do you love me?
Let me know, don't keep it inside, let it show!
If you and i were meant to be
In your dreams you'd see the things that i see
No matter what you do
If you don't want me (...i want you) just tell me honestly
You know i can't take this pain
So please hold me now and whisper my name (...diana!)
Hold me, oh i just want you to hold me (...like this?)
I love you!
No matter what you do i'll love you yeah all the same
I said no matter what you do
I'll love you oh, all the same
No matter what you do, no matter
For evermore
Ooh baby, baby what we're doing, what we're doing
Who we fooling, fooling?
Let's stop hiding, no more hiding
From the feelings that we feel inside yeah
I never thought i'd feel this way
I just want you to hold me
Alright you've got to stop playing with me now
If you're serious there's no more fooling around (...okay)
Just show your feelings
(...you know i've always wanted to do that)
God bless the day that you came!
(yeah no matter, yeah no matter)

song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Thought Is Made

One may think of a thought to hold an opinion,
But never does that thought fit in every mind;
For their minds do not accept a man to think for them
That they must gain a stance on a deserving area.

Thinkers demand compliance, as thinkers exceed intelligence
That the hugest of them are utterly acceptable;
It is not permitted for the philosophers to question the laymen
On subjects related to demanding material.

A thought conveys much and is a fierce achievement
For the relaxation of brotherhood, the only source of endeavor.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Thought

Thought
You would be hanging
On the tree
For me to see you :)

Thought
You would be floating
In the sky
For me to see you

Thought
You would be swimming
In the sea
For me to see you

Thought
You would be climbing
Up the wall
For me to see you :)

Alas! You are not
A monkey ;)
Nor Superman ;)
Nor a deep sea diver
Neither Spiderman.

I imagine you
Doing all such
Antics before me!
As you hang in my
Mind and heart
Like a thought
Doing acrobatic
Jamboree!
Surges within me
So many
Oceanic feelings
I find it hard to stop
The tears and thirst
To smile with thee :)

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Good And Evil.

Good thoughts, 'tis said, are no more than good dreams
Save they be into action put, and that
On opportunity depends. Alas!
If place and power cohered, what good were done
Which else, a babe still-born, has no way here,
But in the womb of good intention fails,
The heart's abortion! Ay, and thuswise too,
Full many a foul intent in that it has
No power or place of action is debarred
A monstrous birth. So nature haply does
In some mysterious way we do not know
Still hold the balance 'tween the good and ill
Of thought in action here, and we become
(In spite of our own selves full oft indeed)
Dispensers of a higher equity
Than the bare law of reason would allow.

poem by Robert Crawford
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Parting Day

SOME busy hands have brought to light,
And laid beneath my eye,
The dress I wore that afternoon
You came to say good-by.

About it still there seems to cling
Some fragrance unexpressed,
The ghostly odor of the rose
I wore upon my breast;

And, subtler than all flower-scent,
The sacred garment holds
The memory of that parting day
Close hidden in its folds.

The rose is dead, and you are gone,
But to the dress I wore
The rose's smell, the thought of you,
Are wed forevermore.

II.

That day you came to say good-by
(A month ago! It seems a year!)
How calm I was! I met your eye,
And in my own you saw no tear.

You heard me laugh and talk and jest,
And lightly grieve that you should go;
You saw the rose upon my breast,
But not the breaking heart below.

And when you came and took my hand,
It scarcely fluttered in your hold.
Alas, you did not understand!
For you were blind, and I was cold.

And now you cannot see my tears,
And now you cannot hear my cry.
A month ago? Nay, years and years
Have aged my heart since that good-by.

poem by Edith Wharton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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