En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Our Pilots

You that run the reddened ditch among the drifted leaves
May set the pace to conquerors and guide the sons of kings!
You that on your stealthy feet go through the wood like thieves
May lead your troop, a hundred horse, when once a holloa rings!
You that, if you lay in death, the poorest churl would pass-
You whose brush and mask and pads there's not a tramp would take-
Can set the pride of England riding jealous on the grass
And captains, earls, and countesses contending in your wake!
You're vermin to a vast of folk, but glory to a few.
What is it in your creeping stride that calls and calls and calls?
What is it, when the racing pack runs on from scent to view,
That rallies us to ride our best - dead straight - and chance the falls?

poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Happiest Man in England

The happiest man in England rose an hour before the dawn;
The stars were in the purple and the dew was on the lawn;
He sang from bed to bathroom-he could only sing ‘John Peel' ;
He donned his boots and breeches and he buckled on his steel.
He chose his brightest waistcoat and his stock with care he tied,
Though scarce a soul would see him in his early morning ride.
He hurried to the stable through the dim light of the stars,
And there his good horse waited, clicking rings and bridle-bars.
The happiest man in England took a grey lock in his hand
And settled in his saddle like a seagull on the sand.
Then from the shadowy kennel all the eager pack outpoured,
And the happiest man in England saw them scatter on the sward.
He trotted through the beeches long before the east was red,
Then he turned across the pasture and he gave the grey his head;
And the hounds swept on beside him in a merry mottled crowd,
And he blew them down the valley with a horn-blast, good and loud.
The happiest man in England turned down the stony lane,
The heart of him was singing as he heard the hoofs again;
And where the blind ditch narrows and the deep-set gorse begins
He waved his pack to covert, and he cheered them through the whins.
He heard old Gladstone whimper, then Merryman give tongue;
He saw the green gorse shaking as the whole pack checked and swung;
Then through the ditch came creeping a shy cub lithe and lean,
And nothing but a cocked grey ear betrayed that he was seen.
But once beyond the brambles and across the heath and clear
With half a league of open ground and not a whinbush near,
The happiest man in England blew the freedom of the pass,
And two-and-twenty couple backed his music on the grass.
He holds no brief for slaughter, but the cubs must take their chance;
The weak must first go under that the strong may lead the dance;
And when the grey strides out and shakes the foam- flecks from his rings
The happiest man in England would not change his place with kings.

poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Call

Gold and green the elm leaves lean and interlace,
All the coloured woodlands are calling to the Chase.
Dew is on the stubble field, ruddy grows the thorn,
All the withered meadowland is listening for the horn.
Lures of lawn and hammock, rod and bat and ball,
Fade before the coming of a stronger lure than all,
Faint before the whisper of the padding feet that pass,
Fail before the witchery of hoof-beats on the grass.
England in her summer sleep turns about and stirs,
Hears the click of bridle rings, hears the clink of spurs,
Sees the gleam of spotted flanks moving in the gorse,
Sees the flashing scarlet of a Whip upon his horse.
Rippling water charms no more, nor the lazy noon,
Spent among the lime trees where a wild bee makes the tune;
Something fiercer tugs the heart, fans the Wood to fire,
Sets the pulses galloping, and wakes the old desire.
Girths are buckled, reins are drawn, stirrups caught again;
Women turn to sterner play, men go forth like men.
Where the storm-clouds gather, where the strong winds stride,
Autumn calls to England and bids her bravest ride.

poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Horse Called Music

High on a mountain in western Montana
A silouette moves across a cinammon sky
Riding along on a horse he calls Music
With a song on his lips, and a tear in his eye
He dreams of a time, and a lady that loved him
and how he would sing her sweet lullabye's
but we dont ever ask him, and he never talks about her
I guess its just better that we all let it slide
chorus:
And he sings Oooh to the ladies
and Oooh he makes 'em sigh
Then he rides away on a horse he calls Music
With a pain in his heart, and a tear in his eye
Now he rode the Music from Boston to Bozman
For not too much money, and way too much ride
But those were the days when a horse he called Music
Could jump through the moon and fly across the sky
Now all thats left is an old time worn cowboy
With only his dreams of the days long gone by
And trailin behind is a horse with no rider
A horse he calls Memories that she used to ride
Chorus
High on a mountain in western Montana
Two crossed cut through a cinammon sky
Marking the place where a horse he called Music
Lays with a cowboy there by his side

song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song of Sherwood

Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?
Grey and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake,
Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn,
Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn.

Robin Hood is here again: all his merry thieves
Hear a ghostly bugle-note shivering through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June:
All the wings of fairyland were here beneath the moon,
Like a flight of rose-leaves fluttering in a mist
Of opal and ruby and pearl and amethyst.

Merry, merry England is waking as of old,
With eyes of blither hazel and hair of brighter gold:
For Robin Hood is here again beneath the bursting spray
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Love is in the greenwood building him a house
Of wild rose and hawthorn and honeysuckle boughs:
Love is in the greenwood, dawn is in the skies,
And Marian is waiting with a glory in her eyes.

Hark! The dazzled laverock climbs the golden steep!
Marian is waiting: is Robin Hood asleep?
Round the fairy grass-rings frolic elf and fay,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Oberon, Oberon, rake away the gold,
Rake away the red leaves, roll away the mould,
Rake away the gold leaves, roll away the red,
And wake Will Scarlett from his leafy forest bed.

Friar Tuck and Little John are riding down together
With quarter-staff and drinking-can and grey goose-feather.
The dead are coming back again, the years are rolled away
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Softly over Sherwood the south wind blows.
All the heart of England his in every rose
Hears across the greenwood the sunny whisper leap,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Hark, the voice of England wakes him as of old
And, shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold
Bugles in the greenwood echo from the steep,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Where the deer are gliding down the shadowy glen
All across the glades of fern he calls his merry men--
Doublets of the Lincoln green glancing through the May
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day--

Calls them and they answer: from aisles of oak and ash
Rings the Follow! Follow! and the boughs begin to crash,
The ferns begin to flutter and the flowers begin to fly,
And through the crimson dawning the robber band goes by.

Robin! Robin! Robin! All his merry thieves
Answer as the bugle-note shivers through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sherwood

Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?
Grey and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake;
Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn,
Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn.

Robin Hood is here again: all his merry thieves
Hear a ghostly bugle-note shivering through the leaves,
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June:
All the wings of fairyland were here beneath the moon;
Like a flight of rose-leaves fluttering in a mist
Of opal and ruby and pearl and amethyst.

Merry, merry England is waking as of old,
With eyes of blither hazel and hair of brighter gold:
For Robin Hood is here again beneath the bursting spray
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Love is in the greenwood building him a house
Of wild rose and hawthorn and honeysuckle boughs;
Love it in the greenwood: dawn is in the skies;
And Marian is waiting with a glory in her eyes.

Hark! The dazzled laverock climbs the golden steep:
Marian is waiting: is Robin Hood asleep?
Round the fairy grass-rings frolic elf and fay,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Oberon, Oberon, rake away the gold,
Rake away the red leaves, roll away the mould,
Rake away the gold leaves, roll away the red,
And wake Will Scarlett from his leafy forest bed.

Friar Tuck and Little John are riding down together
With quarter-staff and drinking-can and grey goose-feather;
The dead are coming back again; the years are rolled away
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

Softly over Sherwood the south wind blows;
All the heart of England hid in every rose
Hears across the greenwood the sunny whisper leap,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Hark, the voice of England wakes him as of old
And, shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold,
Bugles in the greenwood echo from the steep,
Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?

Where the deer are gliding down the shadowy glen
All across the glades of fern he calls his merry men;
Doublets of the Lincoln green glancing through the May,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day;

Calls them and they answer: from aisles of oak and ash
Rings the Follow! Follow! and the boughs begin to crash;
The ferns begin to flutter and the flowers begin to fly;
And through the crimson dawning the robber band goes by.

Robin! Robin! Robin! All his merry thieves
Answer as the bugle-note shivers through the leaves:
Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,
In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.

poem by Alfred Noyes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fugue For Tinhorns

I got the horse right here
His name is Paul Revier
And here's a guy who says if the weather's clear
Can do,can do
This guy says the horse can do
Can do ,can do
I'm picking valentine
Cause on the morning line
The guy has got him figured 5 to 9
Has a chance, has a chance
This guy say the horse has a chance
If he says the horse has a chance
Has a chance, has a chance
No way
For Paul Revier I'll bite
I hear his foots alright
Of course it all depends
If it rained last night
I know it's valentine
The morning word the find
Besides the jokey's brother's a friend of mind
Needs grace, needs grace
This guy says the horse needs grace
He says that the horse needs grace
Needs grace, needs grace
Hey wait a minute fellows
Have you consider this
Well anyway, it's my turn to sing
So shut up
Oh really
But look at appetat
He wins it by a hair
According to this here in the telegraphy
Big threat, big threat
This guy calls the horse big threat
If he calls the horse big threat
Big threat, big threat
I tell you Paul Revier
Now this is no bum stear
It's from my handy cap that is real sincere
I go from valentine
Cause on the morning line
The guy has got him figured 5 to 9
Has a chance, has a chance
The guy says the horse has a chance
Paul Revier
Valentine
Appatat
I got the horse right here

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guys And Dolls Medley: Fuge For Tinhorns (feat. Michael Crawford And Hinton Battle)

I got the horse right here
his name is Paul Revier
and here's a guy who says if the weather's clear
can do,can do
this guy says the horse can do
can do ,can do
I'm picking valentine
cause on the morning line
the guy has got him figured 5 to 9
has a chance, has a chance
this guy say the horse has a chance
if he says the horse has a chance
has a chance, has a chance
no way
for Paul Revier I'll bite
I hear his foots alright
of course it all depends
if it rained last night
I know it's valentine
the morning word the find
besides the jokey's brother's a friend of mind
needs grace, needs grace
this guy says the horse needs grace
he says that the horse needs grace
needs grace, needs grace
hey wait a minute fellows
have you consider this
well anyway, it's my turn to sing
so shut up
oh really
but look at appetat
he wins it by a hair
according to this here in the telegraphy
big threat, big threat
this guy calls the horse big threat
if he calls the horse big threat
big threat, big threat
I tell you Paul Revier
now this is no bum stear
it's from my handy cap that is real sincere
I go from valentine
cause on the morning line
the guy has got him figured 5 to 9
has a chance, has a chance
the guy says the horse has a chance
Paul Revier
valentine
appatat
I got the horse right here

song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wanna Dance With Somebody (Who Loves Me)

Clocks strikes upon the hour
And the sun begins to fade
Still enough time to figure out
How to chase my blues away

I've done alright up 'til now
It's the light of day that shows me how
And when the night falls loneliness calls

Chorus:
Oh! Wanna dance with somebody
I wanna feel the heat with somebody
Yeah! Wanna dance with somebody
With somebody who loves me

I've been in love and lost my senses
Spinning through the town
Soon or later the fever ends
And I wind up feeling down

I need a man who'll take a chance
On a love that burns hot enough to last
So when the night falls
My lonely heart calls

chorus

I need a man who'll take a chance
On a love that burns hot enough to last
So when the night falls
My lonely heart calls

chorus

song performed by by Whitney Houston from Whitney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunup

Look, there our hero
Acting blazing innocence
Calls us to wake up
Up means up to down for him
But he calls us to wake up

poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lonely Wolf

hes traveling so far
faster then a car
his loneliness slowly eating him alive
the remaining minuets of his life
when the moon comes up and the darkness falls
his lonely heart calls and calls
only his shadow by his side
it hurts but he stands with pride
running the forest and the wood
he will make it home he knew he would
days passed he grew weak
he tried and tried but could hardly speak
nearly home
but he died
alone
alone
alone
the lonely wolf died
alone

poem by Lozzy Loz Love Reys
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wait for Fortune

Fortune answers no calls, nor waits for calls,
Enters at will and, like death, times its strike.
Woes and miseries, like thieves, would escape
If fortune arrives, which is not certain.
11.03.2009

‘All other doubts, by time, let them be clear’d;
Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer’d.’
W. Shakespeare: Cymbeline IV, iii

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Absolutely Bills Mood

I was born in a lighthouse, my mother was the sea
I crawled to school each morning, when it occured to me
That lifes just a mood ring were not allowed to see
And this is what it said to me
My room is comfortably small
With rubber lining the walls
And theres someone always calling my name
He calls when Im alone
And he calls when Im not home
And he calls when Im stuck out in the rain
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Now listen all you swingers, dont you try to tag along
I know monkey see, but monkeys dead, for you it would be wrong
Put a dime in my jukebox, youll only hear this song
And it wont be fun for long
Because my room is comfortably small
With rubber lining the walls
And theres someone always calling my name
He calls when Im alone
And he calls when Im not home
And he calls when Im stuck out in the rain
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Thank you
Thank you
My room is comfortably small
With rubber lining the walls
And theres someone always calling my name
He calls when Im alone
And he calls when Im not home
And he calls when Im stuck out in the rain
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane
Im insane

song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Death Calls

He saw the world, dim with the glow of the vertical sun
His skin crept cold knowing that this was the hours of dying
Misguided mortals, youll burn with me
Spirit of man, cannot be freed.
When death calls - this is the hours of dying
When death calls - the spirit of man cannot be freed
When death calls - theres no tomorrow
When death calls - just an evil shadow
Tell me not fear of the flames means that heaven is closer
For I believe satan lives, in the souls of the dying
Misguided mortals, youll burn with me
Spirit of man, cannot be freed.
When death calls - heaven is closer
When death calls - feel the heat of the flames from the souls of the dying
When death calls - here it comes, here it comes, here it comes
When death calls - youre gonna burn
Dont look in those sunken eyes
Dont look and youll stay alive
Dont laugh at the face of death or your toungue will blister
Cant die until satan says you die
And satan takes your soul
In the face of death or your toungue will blister
Dont look in those sunken eyes
Dont look and youll stay alive
Dont laugh at the face of death or your toungue will blister
Cant die until satan says you die
The devil takes your soul
With all his wrath he calls the reaper
When death calls - this is the hours of dying
When death calls - the spirit of man cannot be freed
When death calls - theres no tomorrow
When death calls - just an evil shadow
When death calls - feel the heat of the flames from the souls of the dying
When death calls - youre gonna burn, burn, burn
When death calls - heaven is closer
When death calls - I can feel it, gonna take you down

song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Camiguin Escapade....

on those nights in that island i was confronted with
configurations,

curves, strong lines, bold strokes,
opulence, complacency

dark corners, dead ends, walls, twisted paths,
roasted scents, too general for you to really specifically picture,

heat, hot springs, cool nights, bird calls, dewy leaves,
roots of tall ancient trees,

i disregarded memories, i am into creativity, into something new,
what i never had before, falls, ripples, floating drifting wood,
rivers,

i never make a call, and i never receive calls from you,
my mornings are stares, gazes into far seas,

there were some storms that no one ever notice
such is the story behind my escapade.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Friend Of God

Who am I that You are mindful of me
That You hear me when I call
Is it true that You are thinking of me
How You love me it's amazing
(Chorus)
I am a friend of God
I am a friend of God
I am a friend of God
He calls me friend
God Almighty, Lord of Glory
You have called me friend
(Repeat Chorus)
He calls me friend
He calls me friend...

song performed by by Israel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls

The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ultima Thule: The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls

The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveller hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in the darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands,
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveller to the shore,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tide Rises, the Tide Falls, The

The tide rises, the tide falls,
The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;
Along the sea-sands damp and brown
The traveler hastens toward the town,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on roofs and walls,
But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;
The little waves, with their soft, white hands
Efface the footprints in the sands,
And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls
Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;
The day returns, but nevermore
Returns the traveler to the shore.
And the tide rises, the tide falls.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Le Jardin

The lily's withered chalice falls
Around its rod of dusty gold,
And from the beech-trees on the wold
The last wood-pigeon coos and calls.

The gaudy leonine sunflower
Hangs black and barren on its stalk,
And down the windy garden walk
The dead leaves scatter, - hour by hour.

Pale privet-petals white as milk
Are blown into a snowy mass:
The roses lie upon the grass
Like little shreds of crimson silk.

poem by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Ride Through My Thoughts

I ride through my thoughts-
Like a wounded warrior-
Wild riding on the back of a black horse-
I evade the streets-
The pack behind me-
My view hunting back and forth-
Searching for a way out-
I look timidly behind me-
And I see-
Nobody!
Only lost chances-
I hold on-
And the pain is away-
I smile-
And lead the horse back on the road to happiness.

poem by Rolf Tschochohei
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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