Yonder he Goes!
Always our fathers were hunters, lords of the pitiless spear,
Chasing in English woodlands the wild white ox and the deer,
Feeling the edge of their knife-blades, trying the pull of their bows,
At a sudden foot in the forest thrilling to ' Yonder he goes ! '
Safe for the space of a summer the cubs may tumble and play,
Boldly from April to August the dog-fox chooses his way;
But soon as the beech leaf reddens, soon as the chill wind blows,
He must steal, cat-foot, listening, ready for' Yonder he goes ! '
The sound of a horn in the bracken, the sound of a cheer in the ride;
Fourteen couple running for blood as though to the I brush of him tied!
Fourteen couple screaming for blood, and every hound of them knows
This is his right from the ages - the heart-stirring ‘ Yonder he goes!'
Not for the lust of killing, not for the places of pride,
Not for the hate of the hunted we English saddle and ride,
But because in the gift of our fathers the blood in our veins that flows
Must answer for ever and ever the challenge of ‘Yonder he goes !’
poem by William Henry Ogilvie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Wild Blue Yonder
If you need a prison break
I will be the file in the cake
We will make a great escape
Into the wild blue yonder
If you need to chase the blues
I will be your running shoes
Well double back and leave no clues
Into the wild blue yonder
Chorus
Into the wild blue yonder
Where we can be free
Into the wild blue yonder
Im takin you with me
If you need to fight for love
I will be your boxing gloves
Cheering crowds will lift us up
Into the wild blue yonder
Chorus
If you need someone to care
If life is treating you unfair
Take my love Ill lead you there
Into the wild blue yonder
Into the wild blue yonder
song performed by by Diamond Rio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hunters Of Men
HAVE ye heard of our hunting, o'er mountain and glen,
Through cane-brake and forest, — the hunting of men?
The lords of our land to this hunting have gone,
As the fox-hunter follows the sound of the horn;
Hark! the cheer and the hallo! the crack of the whip,
And the yell of the hound as he fastens his grip!
All blithe are our hunters, and noble their match,
Though hundreds are caught, there are millions to catch.
So speed to their hunting, o'er mountain and glen,
Through cane-brake and forest, — the hunting of men!
Gay luck to our hunters! how nobly they ride
In the glow of their zeal, and the strength of their pride!
The priest with his cassock flung back on the wind,
Just screening the politic statesman behind;
The saint and the sinner, with cursing and prayer,
The drunk and the sober, ride merrily there.
And woman, kind woman, wife, widow, and maid,
For the good of the hunted, is lending her aid:
Her foot's in the stirrup, her hand on the rein,
How blithely she rides to the hunting of men!
Oh, goodly and grand is our hunting to see,
In this 'land of the brave and this home of the free.'
Priest, warrior, and statesman, from Georgia to Maine,
All mounting the saddle, all grasping the rein;
Right merrily hunting the black man, whose sin
Is the curl of his hair and the hue of his skin!
Woe, now, to the hunted who turns him at bay!
Will our hunters be turned from their purpose and prey?
Will their hearts fail within them? their nerves tremble, when
All roughly they ride to the hunting of men?
Ho! alms for our hunters! all weary and faint,
Wax the curse of the sinner and prayer of the saint.
The horn is wound faintly, the echoes are still,
Over cane-brake and river, and forest and hill.
Haste, alms for our hunters! the hunted once more
Have turned from their flight with their backs to the shore:
What right have they here in the home of the white,
Shadowed o'er by our banner of Freedom and Right?
Ho! alms for the hunters! or never again
Will they ride in their pomp to the hunting of men!
Alms, alms for our hunters! why will ye delay,
When their pride and their glory are melting away?
The parson has turned; for, on charge of his own,
Who goeth a warfare, or hunting, alone?
The politic statesman looks back with a sigh,
There is doubt in his heart, there is fear in his eye.
Oh, haste, lest that doubting and fear shall prevail,
And the head of his steed take the place of the tail.
Oh, haste, ere he leave us! for who will ride then,
For pleasure or gain, to the hunting of men?
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flamingoes Fly
Lie by my side in the still of the night
And morning brings forth all its wondrous delight
You couldnt have made it more plain
When I hear that soft refrain
And I hear you gently sigh
I wanna take you where flamingoes fly, flamingoes fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingoes fly
Lie in the dark with the sweet sound of the nightingale
And listen for lark, and I will tell you a tale
Soft winds blowin, blowin outside
I wanna take that moonlight ride
When I hear you gently sigh
I wanna take you where flamingoes fly, flamingoes fly
Way over yonder, yeah in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingoes fly
Silently waiting for that morning light to shine
Yeah, and Im looking at you, looking at me
And Im looking at you
And anticipating
Each and every, each and every sign
And Im looking at you, looking at me
And Im looking at you, looking at me
Looking at you, looking at me, looking at you
I follow the road that will take me, take me back home
And carry that load where the deer and the provincial angels roam
Happiness touches me now
Who knows where it came from and how, but
When I hear you gently sigh
I wanna, wanna take you where flamingoes fly, flamingoes fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingoes fly, flamingoes fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingoes fly
You see those flamingoes fly
Ya see those, ya see those, ya see those
Ya see those, ya see those, ya see those flamingoes fly
Look over yonder, look over yonder, darling
Look over yonder, darling
Ya take it by the ocean, ya take it, ya take it by the ocean
Mmm uhhh, take it by the ocean
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nils Finn
Now little Nils Finn had away to go;
The skis were too loose at both heel and toe.
--"That's too bad!" rumbled yonder.
Then little Nils Finn in the snow set his feet:
"You ugliest troll, you shall never me cheat!"
--"Hee-ho-ha!" rumbled yonder.
Nils Finn with his staff beat the snow till it blew
"Your trollship, now saw you how hapless it flew?"
--"Hit-li-hu!" rumbled yonder.
Nils Finn pushed one ski farther forward with might;
The other held fast,--he reeled left and right.
--"Pull it up!" rumbled yonder.
Nils' tears wet the snow, while he kicked and he struck;
The more that he kicked there, the deeper he stuck.
--"That was good!" rumbled yonder.
The birch-trees, they danced, and the pine-trees said "Hoo!"
They more were than one,--were a hundred and two.
--"Know your way?" rumbled yonder.
A laugh shook the ridge till it made the snow fly;
But Nils clenched his fists and he swore 't was a lie.
--"Now beware!" rumbled yonder.
The snow-field yawned wide, and the heavens came low;
Nils thought 't was now time for him also to go.
--"Is he gone?" rumbled yonder.--
Two skis in the snow looked about everywhere,
But saw nothing much; for there was nothing there.
--"Where is Nils?" rumbled yonder.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Yonder Stands The Sinner
Well, you heard about the great pretender?
I went to see him and hes not the same
Down by the club on the parking lot cinders
I was to meet him and play his game.
Yonder stands the sinner
He calls my name without a sound.
I saw his face in the attic window
Yellin down through the broken pane
Sinner man! what you got to run for?
Church bells rang when he said that name.
Yonder stands the sinner
He calls my name without a sound.
Well, I was about as scared as I could be.
I went and hid behind the nearest tree.
Peeked out from behind the branches.
Sinner!
Yonder stands the sinner
He calls my name without a sound
To get down.
I guess you heard about the great pretender?
I went to see him and hes not the same.
I guess you heard about the great pretender?
I went to see him and hes not the same.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Way Down Yonder In New Orleans
Way down yonder in new orleans
In the land of the dreamy scenes
Theres a garden of eden...you know what I mean
Creole babies with flashin eyes
Softly whisper their tender sighs
Then stop....wont you give your lady fair...a little smile
Stop..ya bet your life youll linger there...a little while
Weve got heaven right here on earth
With those beautiful queens
Way down yonder in new...orleans
(instrumental break)
Youre gonna find heaven right here on earth
With all them beautiful queens
Way down yonder in new or.....
I goin down yonder to new orleans
Its way down yonder in new orleans
song performed by by Louis Armstrong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Purple Heather
Arranged by van morrison
Well the summertime has gone
And the leaves are gently turnin
And my love I wanna take you
To the place heart-a-yearnin
Will you go, lassie go
And well all go together
In the wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather
Will you go
And I will build my love a tower
At the foot of yonder mountain
And visit by the hour
From a lonely wooden tower
Will you go, lassie go
And well all go together
In the wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather
Come on
At the foot of yonder mountain
I will visit by the hour
With the lily of the valley
Go, will you go, lassie go
And well all go together
In the wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather
Will you go, lassie go
Will you go
Will you go, will you go
Will you go, lassie go
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Maid of the Sweet Brown Knowe
COME all ye lads and lassies and listen to me a while,
And I’ll sing for you a verse or two will cause you all to smile;
It’s all about a young man, and I’m going to tell you now,
How he lately came a-courting of the Maid of the Sweet Brown Knowe.
Said he, “My pretty fair maid, will you come along with me,
We’ll both go off together, and married we will be;
We’ll join our hands in wedlock bands, I’m speaking to you now,
And I’ll do my best endeavour for the Maid of the Sweet Brown Knowe.”
This fair and fickle young thing, she knew not what to say,
Her eyes did shine like silver bright and merrily did play;
She said, “Young man, your love subdue, for I am not ready now,
And I’ll spend another season at the foot of the Sweet Brown Knowe.
Said he, “My pretty fair maid, how can you say so,
Look down in yonder valley where my crops do gently grow,
Look down in yonder valley where my horses and my plough
Are at their daily labour for the Maid of the Sweet Brown Knowe.”
“If they’re at their daily labour, kind sir, it’s not for me,
For I’ve heard of your behaviour, I have, indeed,” she said;
“There is an Inn where you call in, I have heard the people say,
Where you rap and call and pay for all, and go home at the break of day.”
“If I rap and call and pay for all, the money is all my own,
And I’ll never spend your fortune, for I hear you have got none.
You thought you had my poor heart broke in talking with me now,
But I’ll leave you where I found you, at the foot of the Sweet Brown Knowe.”
poem by Anonymous English
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pact, The
would you
for the love of
me
tie this lace
upon a tree
when the wind
upon it blows
my heart
on yonder river flows
poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fly Away Home
The bells toll for you today
To fly to your new home in
Yonder sky..
Spread your wings and fly
From down here below,
So, fly away home
Oh, fly away home
To your new home in
Yonder sky..
Our hearts are broken and
We fill so blue,
Many tears has been shred
For miss you so
We know you have pass through
Heavens gates
Your journey was hard but the
Bell toll
For you to come home in yonder
Sky..
So, fly away home
Oh, fly away home
Your great work you accomplished
Down here below
Have been awarded
Your memory will never fade
So, fly away home
Oh, fly away home
To your new home in yonder
Sky..
If I had not died I would have
Been a gospel singer..
But since I’d died I will sing
In the heavenly choir..
So, fly away home
Oh, fly away home...
poem by Carolyn Sears
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Flamingos Fly
Go for a ride
In the still of the night
And morning brings forth
All this wonderful delight
Couldnt have made it more plain
When I heard that soft refrain
And I heard you gently sigh
Wanna take you where flamingos fly, flamingos fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingos fly
Lie in the dark
With the sound of the nightingale
Listen for a lark
I will tell you a tale
Breeze is blowin, blowin outside
Wanna take that moonlight ride
When I hear you gently sigh
Wanna take you where flamingos fly, flamingos fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingos fly
Well were here and were waiting
For that morning light to shine
And Im looking at you looking at me looking right back at you
And Im anticipating
Sounds along the way
Looking at you looking at me looking right back at you, hey
Ill follow the road
That will take me, take me right back home
And carry that load
Where the deer and the provincial angels roam
Happiness touches, touches me now
I know where it came from and how
When I hear you gently sigh
Wanna take you where flamingos fly, flamingos fly
Way over yonder in the clear blue sky
Thats where flamingos fly, flamingos fly
Way over the rooftops of the houses
I heard it one time, I heard it one time in a lullaby
I heard it one time, I heard it one time in a lullaby
Somewhere, somewhere, somewhere way over the rooftops of the houses
Heard it one time in a lullaby
Heard it one time, heard it one time in a lullaby
(fade)
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Wenlock Edge The Wood's In Trouble
On Wenlock Edge the wood's in trouble;
His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves;
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
And thick on Severn snow the leaves.
'Twould blow like this through holt and hanger
When Uricon the city stood;
'Tis the old wind in the old anger,
But then it threshed another wood.
Then, 'twas before my time, the Roman
At yonder heaving hill would stare;
The blood that warms an English yeoman,
The thoughts that hurt him, they were there.
There, like the wind through woods in riot,
Through him the gale of life blew high;
The tree of man was never quiet:
Then 'twas the Roman, now 'tis I.
The gale, it plies the saplings double,
It blows so hard, 'twill soon be gone:
Today the Roman and his trouble
Are ashes under Uricon.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Six foot three-inch horse
Ride alone on your six foot three-inch horse,
To shores where we pined to be together
In nights when trails of the mist-
Cools off that heat of the moon
Ride alone on your six foot three-inch horse,
To evening skies we’ve dreamt from the terrace
Like a jet, like an arrow, ride through the wind
Behold the air, smell my blood
Ride alone on your six foot three-inch horse,
Not once, never meant to be together
I’ll never make it without you
Those skies, those shores, foregone – forever
poem by Prakash Nair
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Reveille
Trumpets of the Lancer Corps
Sound a loud reveille;
Sound it over Sydney shore,
Send the message far and wide
Down the Richmond River side.
Boot and Saddle, mount and ride,
Sound a loud reveille.
Whither go ye, Lancers gay,
With your bold reveille?
O'er the ocean far away
From your sunny southern home,
Over leagues of trackless foam
In a foreign land to roam,
With your bold reveille.
When we hear our brethren call,
Sound a clear reveille.
Then we answer, one and all,
Answer that the world may see,
Of the English stock are we,
At their side we still will be,
Sound a bold reveille.
English troops are buried deep.
Sound a soft reveille.
In this foreign land asleep,
Underneath Majuba Hill,
Lying sleeping very still,
Nevermore those squadrons will
Answer to reveille.
Onward without fear or doubt,
Sound a bold reveille.
'Till that shame is blotted out.
While our Empire's bounds are wide,
Britons all stand side by side,
Boot and saddle, mount and ride.
Hear the bold reveille.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Over The Hills
The old hound wags his shaggy tail,
And I know what he would say:
It's over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills, and away.
There's nought for us here save to count the clock,
And hang the head all day:
But over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
Here among men we're like the deer
That yonder is our prey:
So, over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The hypocrite is master here,
But he's the cock of clay:
So, over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The women, they shall sigh and smile,
And madden whom they may:
It's over the hills we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
Let silly lads in couples run
To pleasure, a wicked fay:
'Tis ours on the heather to bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The torrent glints under the rowan red,
And shakes the bracken spray:
What joy on the heather to bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
The sun bursts broad, and the heathery bed
Is purple, and orange, and gray:
Away, and away, we'll bound, old hound,
Over the hills and away.
poem by George Meredith
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ride Away
Orbison/dees
Two wheels a turnin
One girl a yearnin
Big motor burnin the road
Ill ride the highway
Im going my way
Ill leave a story untold
Pretty girls behind me but pretty girls are everywhere
Big motor wind up, ride away from here
Ride away
She wont approve of things I do or what I am
And I dont really give a ...... I understand
But shell never see that Ill never be
Any one but me
She thinks she needs me, she cries for me
But I know shes lying, crying for others to see
What can I say, Ill just ride away
Big motor run run (background) ride ride away
Ride on away from big motor run run
Heart-ache and misery
Im bound to wander
Way over yonder
Someone be waitin just for me
True love to cling to, I need a dream to share
Someone to know me, someone to show me they care
Ride away, ride away
>from tears and sorrow
Like theres no tomorrow
Tonight Ill ride away
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yonder Sky
Yonder sky
You are amazing
Yonder sky
I see that beautiful
Sun
Shining
On you
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Leaving Winchester School
The spring shall visit thee again,
Itchin! and yonder ancient fane,
That casts its shadow on thy breast,
As if, by many winters beat,
The blooming season it would greet,
With many a straggling wild-flower shall be dressed.
But I, amid the youthful train
That stray at evening by thy side,
No longer shall a guest remain,
To mark the spring's reviving pride.
I go not unrejoicing; but who knows,
When I have shared, O world! thy common woes,
Returning I may drop some natural tears;
As these same fields I look around,
And hear from yonder dome the slow bell sound,
And think upon the joys that crowned my stripling years!
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Red House
Note: this is a diffrent version of red house than on the are you experienced? album. the lyrics are much the same but jimi's guitar is a lot diffrent.
Yeah
Yeah
There's a red house, over yonder
That's where my baby stays
Yeah
There's a red house over yonder, baby
That's where my baby stays
I ain't been home to see my baby
In about a ninety-nine and one half days
It's about time to see her
Wait minute something's wrong
This key won't unlock this door
Wait a minute something's wrong, baby
The key won't unlock the door
Yeah
I got a bad bad feeling
That my baby don't live here no more
She ain't comin' about is she
That's alright i still got my guitar
Look out baby
Yeah, look out
Yeah that's alright
Yeah haha
I might as well a go on back down
Go back across yonder over the hill
Might as well go back over yonder
Way back over yonder across the hill
That's where i came from
Cause if my baby don't love me no more
I know here sister will!
Yeah
song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mary Leslie
O Mary Leslie, blithe and shrill
The bugles blew for Spain:
And you below the Castle Hill
Stood in the crowd your lane.
Then hearts were wild to watch us pass,
Yet laith to let us go!
While mine said, 'Fare-ye-well, my lass!'
And yours, 'God keep my Jo!'
Here by the bivouac fire, above
These fields of savage play,
I'll lift my love to meet thy love
Twa thousand miles away,
Where yonder, yonder by the stars,
Nightlong there rins a burn,
And maids with lovers at the wars
May list their wraiths' return.
More careless yet my spirit grows
Of fame, more sick of blood:
But I can think of Badajoz,
And yet that God is good.
Beyond the siege, beyond the stour,
Beyond the sack of towns,
I reach to pluck ae lily-floo'r
Where leaders press for crowns.
O Mary! lily! bow'd and wet
With mair than mornin's rain!
The bugles up the Lawnmarket
Shall sound us home again.
Then fare-ye-well, these foreign lands,
And be damn'd their bitter drouth.
With your dear face between my hands
And the cup held to my mouth,
My love,
It's clean cup to my mouth!
poem by Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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