X. On Dover Cliffs.
ON these white cliffs, that calm above the flood
Rear their o'er-shadowing heads, and at their feet
Scarce hear the surge that has for ages beat,
Sure many a lonely wanderer has stood;
And, whilst the lifted murmur met his ear,
And o'er the distant billows the still Eve
Sail'd slow, has thought of all his heart must leave
To-morrow -- of the friends he lov'd most dear, --
Of social scenes, from which he wept to part: --
But if, like me, he knew how fruitless all
The thoughts, that would full fain the past recall,
Soon would he quell the risings of his heart,
And brave the wild winds and unhearing tide,
The World his country, and his God his guide.
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Related quotes
Dover Cliffs
On these white cliffs, that calm above the flood
Uprear their shadowing heads, and at their feet
Hear not the surge that has for ages beat,
How many a lonely wanderer has stood!
And, whilst the lifted murmur met his ear,
And o'er the distant billows the still eve
Sailed slow, has thought of all his heart must leave
To-morrow; of the friends he loved most dear;
Of social scenes, from which he wept to part!
Oh! if, like me, he knew how fruitless all
The thoughts that would full fain the past recall,
Soon would he quell the risings of his heart,
And brave the wild winds and unhearing tide--
The World his country, and his GOD his guide.
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Sonnet: At Dover Cliffs, July 20th 1787
On these white cliffs, that calm above the flood
Uplift their shadowing heads, and, at their feet,
Scarce hear the surge that has for ages beat,
Sure many a lonely wanderer has stood;
And whilst the lifted murmur met his ear,
And o'er the distant billows the still eve
Sailed slow, has thought of all his heart must leave
Tomorrow; of the friends he loved most dear;
Of social scenes, from which he wept to part;
But if, like me, he knew how fruitless all
The thoughts that would full fain the past recall,
Soon would he quell the risings of his heart,
And brave the wild winds and unhearing tide,
The world his country, and his God his guide.
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Sonnet: On seeing Miss Helen Maria Williams weep at a tale of distress
She wept.--Life's purple tide began to flow
In languid streams through every thrilling vein;
Dim were my swimming eyes--my pulse beat slow,
And my full heart was swell'd to dear delicious pain.
Life left my loaded heart, and closing eye;
A sigh recall'd the wanderer to my breast;
Dear was the pause of life, and dear the sigh
That call'd the wanderer home, and home to rest.
That tear proclaims--in thee each virtue dwells,
And bright will shine in misery's midnight hour;
As the soft star of dewy evening tells
What radiant fires were drown'd by day's malignant pow'r,
That only wait the darkness of the night
To cheer the wand'ring wretch with hospitable light.
poem by William Wordsworth
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My heart beat
It all seems like today
Ages have passed by…
My heart missed a beat
When I first saw you
When you stretched out your hand
When you spoke to me first
When you said you look good
When you stood talking for hours
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I met you
When we started dating
When we went on shopping
When we spent time in each other’s company
When we were in each other’s arms
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I wanted to say something
When you found that life was miserable
When you thought I should live with you
When you enjoyed my company
When you proposed to me
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I felt your love
When we first had a talk
When we had a long walk
When we never heard the waves on the shore
When we knew we loved each other
My heart missed a leap
My heart missed a leap
When I lost words
When you found them for me
When you touched me first
When you blew in my ears
When you kissed me first
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I saw the ring
When we decided
When we finalized things
When we knew everything was fine
When we heard the revolt
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I saw you parents
When you said your mother’s decision
When you were thinking twice
When you wanted to satisfy both
When your thoughts wavered
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I understood you
When we decided to go ahead
When we said this is the right time
When we told our friends
When we held hands
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I became your wife
When you were all to myself
When you said you love me lots
When you and your mother accepted me
When you became my world
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I knew a life in me
When we realized the fact
When we understood our culmination’s fruit
When we were to be too proud
When we heard a heart in me
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I first heard them cry
When you saw with sparkling eyes our babies
When you said they resemble me
When you said I am now a proud father of two
When you said I love you for this
My heart missed a beat
My heat missed a beat
When I heard them call me mom
When we were proud parents
When we shared happy moments
When we saw them grow
When we heard good things about them
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I knew it was time for marriages again
When you said just both of us now
When you saw me with love
When you said you look young still
When you whispered I love you
My heart missed a beat
You are a part of me
Even in our ripe old age
My heart beats only for you from day one
The day yours stop so will mine stop
For my heart beats only for you…
It all seems like today
Ages have passed by…
poem by Leena Bose
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The Female Exile
Written at Brighthelmstone in Nov. 1792.
NOVEMBER'S chill blast on the rough beach is howling,
The surge breaks afar, and then foams to the shore,
Dark clouds o'er the sea gather heavy and scowling,
And the white cliffs re-echo the wild wintry roar.
Beneath that chalk rock, a fair stranger reclining,
Has found on damp sea-weed a cold lonely seat;
Her eyes fill'd with tears, and her heart with repining,
She starts at the billows that burst at her feet.
There, day after day, with an anxious heart heaving,
She watches the waves where they mingle with air;
For the sail which, alas! all her fond hopes deceiving,
May bring only tidings to add to her care.
Loose stream to wild winds those fair flowing tresses,
Once woven with garlands of gay summer flowers;
Her dress unregarded, bespeaks her distresses,
And beauty is blighted by grief's heavy hours.
Her innocent children, unconscious of sorrow,
To seek the gloss'd shell, or the crimson weed stray;
Amused with the present, they heed not to-morrow,
Nor think of the storm that is gathering to-day.
The gilt, fairy ship, with its ribbon sail spreading,
They launch on the salt pool the tide left behind;
Ah! victims--for whom their sad mother is dreading
The multiplied miseries that wait on mankind!
To fair fortune born, she beholds them with anguish,
Now wanderers with her on a once hostile soil,
Perhaps doom'd for life in chill penury to languish,
Or abject dependence, or soul-crushing toil.
But the sea-boat, her hopes and her terrors renewing,
O'er the dim grey horizon now faintly appears;
She flies to the quay, dreading tidings of ruin,
All breathless with haste, half expiring with fears.
Poor mourner!--I would that my fortune had left me
The means to alleviate the woes I deplore;
But like thine my hard fate has of affluence bereft me,
I can warm the cold heart of the wretched no more!
poem by Charlotte Smith
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A Fisherman's Baby
Oh hush, little baby, thy papa's at sea;
The big billows rock him as mamma rocks thee.
He hastes to his dear ones o'er billows of foam;
Then sleep, little darling, till papa comes home.
Sleep, little baby; hush, little baby;
Papa is coming, no longer to roam.
The shells and the pebbles, all day tossed about,
Are lulled into sleep by the tide ebbing out.
The tired shore slumbers, stretched out in the sand,
While the waves hurry off at mid-ocean's command.
Then hush, little darling; sleep, little darling;
Sleep, baby, rocked by thy mother's own hand.
The winds that have rollicked all day in the west
Are hushed into sleep on the calm evening's breast.
The boats that were out with the wild sea at play
Are now rocked to sleep in the arms of the bay.
Then rest, little baby; sleep, little baby;
Papa will come at the break of the day.
Sleep, little darling; too soon thou wilt be
A man like thy father, to sail o'er the sea.
Then sleep will not come at thy bidding or prayer,
For thou wilt be harassed by danger and care.
Then sleep, little darling; rest, little baby;
Rest whilst thou may, dear, and sleep whilst thou dare.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Sea Song of the Exiles
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Farewell, white cot whence the ripe grapes fall,
Gold blooms that bask on the mossy wall!
Dear land, farewell!
Hill, plain, and dell!
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Farewell, betrothed, with the pure, pale brow;
'Neath sombre heaven dark billows we plough.
Dear land, farewell!
In thee our loves dwell;
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Our eyes, whose tears all brightness blot,
Leave the dark wave for a darker lot!
Dear land, farewell!
In our heart's a knell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
poem by Victor Hugo
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Ralph to Mary
Love, you have led me to the strand,
Here, where the stilly, sunset sea,
Ever receding silently,
Lays bare a shining stretch of sand;
Which, as we tread, in waving line,
Sinks softly 'neath our moving feet;
And looking down our glances meet,
Two mirrored figures--yours and mine.
To-night you found me sad, alone,
Amid the noisy, empty books
And drew me forth with those sweet looks,
And gentle ways which are your own.
The glory of the setting sun
Has sway'd and softened all my mood;
This wayward heart you understood,
Dear love, as you have always done.
Have you forgot the poet wild,
Who sang rebellious songs and hurl'd
His fierce anathemas at 'the world,'
Which shrugg'd its shoulders, pass'd and smil'd?
Who fled in wrath to distant lands,
And sitting, thron'd upon a steep,
Made music to the mighty deep,
And thought, 'Perhaps it understands.'
Who back return'd, a wanderer drear,
Urged by the spirit's restless pain,
Sang his wild melodies in vain--
Sang them to ears that would not hear. . .
A weary, lonely thing he flies,
His soul's fire with soul's hunger quell'd,
Till, sudden turning, he beheld
His meaning--mirrored in your eyes! . . .
Ah, Love, since then have passed away
Long years ; some things are chang'd on earth;
Men say that poet had his worth,
And twine for him the tardy bay.
What care I, so that hand in hand,
And heart in heart we pace the shore?
My heart desireth nothing more,
We understand,--we understand.
Tides of Life
As the tides of life ebb and flow, you dear friend, may never know,
What the tides will bring your way, as they change from day to day.
This life and all its uncertainty, can change the path of you and me,
And as we journey upon life’s tide, we need an anchor by our side.
You need an anchor in your heart, for your soul that will not depart,
An anchor for every single tide, that keeps you secure deep inside.
Life’s tides can become high or low, no matter where in life you go,
This life can even bring a drought, filling a heart with fears or doubt.
Even when life brings a high tide, one needs to have an inner guide,
One guide to lead you from above, should the tide become a flood.
Friend, during any flood in your life, you can rely upon Jesus Christ,
Who calmed the wind and the sea, can calm a heart for you and me.
He can save you from all harms, taking you in His everlasting arms,
As God places both you and me, upon Christ, The Rock of Eternity.
The Rock that anyone can know, wherever the tides of life may flow,
As it is The Lord’s amazing Grace, that reaches down to every place.
God will save you from life’s flood, through the power of the blood,
Shed for all nations by Jesus Christ, to purchase for all Eternal Life.
And it is that tide from Calvary, which reaches men like you and me,
So that we can live forevermore, upon Christ’s golden Eternal shore.
(Copyright ©07/2007)
Feet First
i came into this world feet first
they told my mother
out of her three sons, i would be the one
always on the run.
i'd go through life without a care
the thoughts i had, i would not share.
i never stood around long enough for
anyone to get close to me
for too much pain i did see.
i joined the army, so i would not be
close to any family.
little did i know that my thoughts would change
and from here on, i would never be the same.
i played the field with all the girls
and told them whatever they wanted to hear.
but i also made it quite clear
that i was a man on the run
and not be put under the gun.
i was like the wind, here one minute and
gone the next, and i would not be a sacrificial test.
til the day that i went to the company dance
and glanced across the floor.
there she stood proud as can be
just as if she was waiting for me.
i walked across the floor like a fox
waiting for its prey.
she looked at me, and told me to go away.
astounded, dumbfounded, i could not believe.
i did this to others, not them to me.
i sucked in the air and put out my chest
of me she would not get the best.
i walked over to her again and asked her to dance
she looked at me and said 'not a chance'
my friends tell me that you're always on the run
but with me, you will have no fun.
i was born feet first just like you
but at least i knew what to do.
i know when to slow down and make it last
i don't dwindle on the past.
you're getting older and it's time
to settle down
but not one, with whom you've found.
because you have seen a lot of pain
does'nt mean that everyones the same.
open your heart so that you could see
all the beauty thats within me.
i apologized and asked if we could
start from scratch
for my ways i had to patch.
we started it off very slow
and i knew i had a long way to go.
but if i had her by my side
everything would turn out fine.
i told my family what i found.
and that i was settling down.
then i said to my family:
this is a comical, egotistical story
there is no fame, there is no glory.
i came out on the run, and now i'm
enjoying life, and having fun.
poem by Louis Rams
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The sea within
My world
static now.
I am dead to everything
except the sound of the sea
that is within me.
No more calm
but raging with a storm,
the angry waves lashing
against the high cliffs.
But the sea is deep,
down in my heart.
None can witness
the tumult from outside,
the impregnable stoical exterior
bearing no sign of the inner trepidation.
A voice calls out to me
above the howling sound of the sea.
Slowly I raise my head
and see myself, calm and intrepid.
Am I the weary sailor
waiting to be washed ashore
after my ship sinks?
My spirit will no longer languish
but ready to override
the storm than wait for it to subside.
For I love the song of the sea
that is in me,
the soft murmur
when it is calm and when the billows roar.
The heart recognizes in them the melodies
and whispers the both tones.
poem by Aimanu Begum
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Elegiac Stanzas
WRITTEN DURING SICKNESS AT BATH.
When I lie musing on my bed alone,
And listen to the wintry waterfall;
And many moments that are past and gone,
Moments of sunshine and of joy, recall;
Though the long night is dark and damp around,
And no still star hangs out its friendly flame;
And the winds sweep the sash with sullen sound,
And freezing palsy creeps o'er all my frame;
I catch consoling phantasies that spring
From the thick gloom, and as the night airs beat,
They touch my heart, like wind-swift wires that ring
In mournful modulations, strange and sweet.
Was it the voice of thee, my buried friend?
Was it the whispered vow of faithful love?
Do I in Knoyle's green shades thy steps attend,
And hear the high pines murmur thus above?
'Twas not thy voice, my buried friend!--Oh, no:
'Twas not, O Knoyle! the murmur of thy trees;
But at the thought I feel my bosom glow,
And woo the dream whose air-drawn shadows please.
And I can think I see the groves again,
The larches that yon peaceful roof embower;
The airy down, the cattle-speckled plain,
And the slant sunshine on the village tower.
And I can think I hear its Sabbath chime
Come smoothly softened down the woody vale;
Or mark on yon lone eminence sublime,
Fast whirling in the wind, the white mill's sail.
Phantom, that by my bed dost beckoning glide,
Spectre of Death, to the damp charnel hie!
Thy dim pale hand, thy festering visage hide;
Thou com'st to say, I with thy worms shall lie!
Thou com'st to say that my once vacant mind
Amid those scenes shall never more rejoice;
Nor on the day of rest the hoary hind
Bend o'er his staff, attentive to my voice.
Hast thou not visited that pleasant place
Where in this hard world I have happiest been?
And shall I tremble at thy lifted mace
That hath pierced all on which life seemed to lean?
But Hope might whisper: Many a smiling day
And many a cheerful eve may yet be mine,
Ere age's autumn strew my locks with gray,
And weary to the dust my steps decline.
I argue not, but uncomplaining bow
To Heaven's high 'hest; secure, whate'er my lot,
Meek spirit of resigned Content, that thou
Wilt smooth my pillow, and forsake me not!
Thou to the turfy hut with pilgrim feet
Wanderest, from halls of loud tumultuous joy;
Or on the naked down, when the winds beat,
Dost sing to the forsaken shepherd boy.
Thou art the sick man's nurse, the poor man's friend,
And through each change of life thou hast been mine;
In every ill thou canst a comfort blend,
And bid the eye, though sad, in sadness shine.
Thee I have met on Cherwell's willowed side,
And when our destined road far onward lay,
Thee I have found, whatever chance betide,
The kind companion of my devious way.
With thee unwearied have I loved to roam,
By the smooth-flowing Scheldt, or rushing Rhine;
And thou hast gladdened my sequestered home,
And hung my peaceful porch with eglantine.
When cares and crosses my tired spirits tried,
When to the dust my father I resigned;
Amidst the quiet shade unseen I sighed,
And, blest with thee, forgot a world unkind.
Ev'n now, while toiling through the sleepless night,
A tearful look to distant scenes I cast,
And the glad objects that once charmed my sight
Remember, like soft views of 'faerie' past;
I see thee come half-smiling to my bed,
With Fortitude more awfully severe,
Whose arm sustaining holds my drooping head,
Who dries with her dark locks the tender tear.
O firmer Spirit! on some craggy height
Who, when the tempest sails aloft, dost stand,
And hear'st the ceaseless billows of the night
Rolling upon the solitary strand;
At this sad hour, when no harsh thoughts intrude
To mar the melancholy mind's repose,
When I am left to night and solitude,
And languid life seems verging to its close;
Oh, let me thy pervading influence feel;
Be every weak and wayward thought repressed;
And hide thou, as with plates of coldest steel,
The faded aspect and the throbbing breast!
Silent the motley pageant may retreat,
And vain mortality's brief scenes remove;
Yet let my bosom, whilst with life it beat,
Breathe a last prayer for all on earth I love.
Slow-creeping pain weighs down my heavy eye,
A chiller faintness steals upon my breast;
'O gentle Muse, with some sweet lullaby'
Rock me in long forgetfulness to rest!
poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Wandering Willie
All joy was bereft me the day that you left me,
And climb'd the tall vessel to sail yon wide sea;
O weary betide it! I wander'd beside it,
And bann'd it for parting my Willie and me.
Far o'er the wave hast thou follow'd thy fortune,
Oft fought the squadrons of France and of Spain;
Ae kiss of welcome's worth twenty at parting,
Now I hae gotten my Willie again.
When the sky it was mirk, and the winds they were wailing,
I sat on the beach wi' the tear in my ee,
And thought o' the bark where my Willie was sailing,
And wish'd that the tempest could a' blaw on me.
Now that thy gallant ship rides at her mooring,
Now that my wanderer's in safety at hame,
Music to me were the wildest winds' roaring,
That e'er o'er Inch-Keith drove the dark ocean faem.
When the lights they did blaze, and the guns they did rattle,
And blithe was each heart for the great victory,
In secret I wept for the dangers of battle,
And thy glory itself was scarce comfort to me.
But now shalt thou tell, while I eagerly listen,
Of each bold adventure, and every brave scar;
And trust me, I'll smile, though my een they may glisten;
For sweet after danger's the tale of the war.
And oh, how we doubt when there's distance 'tween lovers,
When there's naething to speak to the heart thro' the ee;
How often the kindest and warmest prove rovers,
And the love of the faithfullest ebbs like the sea.
Till, at times - Could I help it? - I pined and I ponder'd
If love could change notes like the bird on the tree-
Now I'll ne'er ask if thine eyes may hae wander'd,
Enough, thy leal heart has been constant to me.
Welcome, from sweeping o'er sea and through channel,
Hardships and danger despising for fame,
Furnishing story for glory's bright annal,
Welcome, my wanderer, to Jeanie and hame!
Enough now thy story in annals of glory
Has humbled the pride of France, Holland, and Spain;
No more shalt thou grieve me, no more shalt thou leave me,
I never will part with my Willie again.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Andrew-in loveing memmorie part one
Lying in bed as
my heart beat slow
i could feel yours on my side
i talked to you
i knew you could hear me
i miss the way your heart beat
i miss when you moved in my stomach
when i found out i was going to have you
i thought to myself i get to be a mom
and i have always wanted that
due in april you were supposed to be
but then the earth took you away from me
i couldnt feel your heart beat
as i knew there was something wrong
my stomach hurts so bad and i cried for so long
seems like just yesterday i would sing and
youd push on my ribs if i stopped
how you loved to hear my voice
from the moment i knew you were there
i loved you like you were already here
a new addition to my heart you will always be
your dad wasnt ready to be a dad
but he wanted you just as much as i did
i thought it would work out for the best
but now your gone and theres half of my heart
that i have lost with you
i miss your heart beat
and when you made my stomach growel
and you pushed against my ribs
i loved singing and talking to you
your dad loved you
just as much as i did
so my dear son i say
goodbye and rest in peace
your my angel now so you can watch over me
please watch over your dad to
he knows you and he needs you too
know that we love you and miss you so
we will see you around and evertime
the wind blows and a flower blooms
and the sunshines we know its you
i miss you baby and love you too
In loveing memmorie of
Andrew Sean
August 30th 2009-September 26th 2009
poem by Sandy Vanity
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Old Ireland
FAR hence, amid an isle of wondrous beauty,
Crouching over a grave, an ancient, sorrowful mother,
Once a queen--now lean and tatter'd, seated on the ground,
Her old white hair drooping dishevel'd round her shoulders;
At her feet fallen an unused royal harp,
Long silent--she too long silent--mourning her shrouded hope and
heir;
Of all the earth her heart most full of sorrow, because most full of
love.
Yet a word, ancient mother;
You need crouch there no longer on the cold ground, with forehead
between your knees;
O you need not sit there, veil'd in your old white hair, so
dishevel'd; 10
For know you, the one you mourn is not in that grave;
It was an illusion--the heir, the son you love, was not really dead;
The Lord is not dead--he is risen again, young and strong, in another
country;
Even while you wept there by your fallen harp, by the grave,
What you wept for, was translated, pass'd from the grave,
The winds favor'd, and the sea sail'd it,
And now with rosy and new blood,
Moves to-day in a new country.
poem by Walt Whitman
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Wild In The Country
(words & music by george wise - hugo peretti - luigi creatore)
A rose grows wild in the country
A tree grows tall as the sky
The wind blows wild in the country
And part of the wild, wild country, am i
Wild, wild, like the deer and the dove
Wild and free is this land that I love
A dream grows wild in the country
A love grows tall as the sky
A heart beats wild in the country
And here with a dream in my heart
Part of the wild, wild country, am i
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lonely Beat Of My Heart
Cold night
Youre gone
I cant remember who was right
Or who was wrong
Warm days
With you
Girl we had everything
Nothing to lose
Used to own the world
When you were near me
Used to have it all
Now youre not here
Now all Im hearin is the
Chorus:
Lonely beat of my heart
Im lost in loneliness
I cant hear nothing but
The lonely beat of my heart
Thats how its gonna be
Till youre beside me again
Night fades
Day breaks
Another morning baby calling out your name
Walk down
These streets, yeah
I see your face in everybodys face I see
I cant stand the pain
I need you near me
Baby dont you know,
Until youre here
All Ill be hearins is the
Chorus:
Lonely beat of my heart
Im lost in loneliness
I cant hear nothing but
The lonely beat of my heart
Thats how its gonna be
Till youre inside me again
Dont you know Id give anything
To have you back in my life
Well you know baby
I would sell my soul
Just to hold you one more time
Chorus:
Lonely beat of my heart
Im lost in loneliness
I cant hear nothing but
The lonely beat of my heart
Thats how its gonna be
Cause all Im hearing is the
Lonely beat of my heart
(repeat chorus and fade)
song performed by by Toto
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Vagabond
White handkerchiefs wave from the short black pier
As we glide to the grand old sea --
But the song of my heart is for none to hear
If one of them waves for me.
A roving, roaming life is mine,
Ever by field or flood --
For not far back in my father's line
Was a dash of the Gipsy blood.
Flax and tussock and fern,
Gum and mulga and sand,
Reef and palm -- but my fancies turn
Ever away from land;
Strange wild cities in ancient state,
Range and river and tree,
Snow and ice. But my star of fate
Is ever across the sea.
A god-like ride on a thundering sea,
When all but the stars are blind --
A desperate race from Eternity
With a gale-and-a-half behind.
A jovial spree in the cabin at night,
A song on the rolling deck,
A lark ashore with the ships in sight,
Till -- a wreck goes down with a wreck.
A smoke and a yarn on the deck by day,
When life is a waking dream,
And care and trouble so far away
That out of your life they seem.
A roving spirit in sympathy,
Who has travelled the whole world o'er --
My heart forgets, in a week at sea,
The trouble of years on shore.
A rolling stone! -- 'tis a saw for slaves --
Philosophy false as old --
Wear out or break 'neath the feet of knaves,
Or rot in your bed of mould!
But I'D rather trust to the darkest skies
And the wildest seas that roar,
Or die, where the stars of Nations rise,
In the stormy clouds of war.
Cleave to your country, home, and friends,
Die in a sordid strife --
You can count your friends on your finger ends
In the critical hours of life.
Sacrifice all for the family's sake,
Bow to their selfish rule!
Slave till your big soft heart they break --
The heart of the family fool.
Domestic quarrels, and family spite,
And your Native Land may be
Controlled by custom, but, come what might,
The rest of the world for me.
I'd sail with money, or sail without! --
If your love be forced from home,
And you dare enough, and your heart be stout,
The world is your own to roam.
I've never a love that can sting my pride,
Nor a friend to prove untrue;
For I leave my love ere the turning tide,
And my friends are all too new.
The curse of the Powers on a peace like ours,
With its greed and its treachery --
A stranger's hand, and a stranger land,
And the rest of the world for me!
But why be bitter? The world is cold
To one with a frozen heart;
New friends are often so like the old,
They seem of the past a part --
As a better part of the past appears,
When enemies, parted long,
Are come together in kinder years,
With their better nature strong.
I had a friend, ere my first ship sailed,
A friend that I never deserved --
For the selfish strain in my blood prevailed
As soon as my turn was served.
And the memory haunts my heart with shame --
Or, rather, the pride that's there;
In different guises, but soul the same,
I meet him everywhere.
I had a chum. When the times were tight
We starved in Australian scrubs;
We froze together in parks at night,
And laughed together in pubs.
And I often hear a laugh like his
From a sense of humour keen,
And catch a glimpse in a passing phiz
Of his broad, good-humoured grin.
And I had a love -- 'twas a love to prize --
But I never went back again . . .
I have seen the light of her kind brown eyes
In many a face since then.
. . . . .
The sailors say 'twill be rough to-night,
As they fasten the hatches down,
The south is black, and the bar is white,
And the drifting smoke is brown.
The gold has gone from the western haze,
The sea-birds circle and swarm --
But we shall have plenty of sunny days,
And little enough of storm.
The hill is hiding the short black pier,
As the last white signal's seen;
The points run in, and the houses veer,
And the great bluff stands between.
So darkness swallows each far white speck
On many a wharf and quay.
The night comes down on a restless deck, --
Grim cliffs -- and -- The Open Sea!
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Once Full of Life
Hear her heart beat
Hear her heart thump
Hear her silent thoughts
Hear her silent tears
How she’s been sad for years
Hear her heart crack
Hear her heart cry
Hear her heart once full of life
Hear her beatless heart, shriveled, dark and dry.
Hear her heartbeat-slowly die
poem by Dani SCREAMS
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Earth Pulse
ash
dirt
dust
solid
earth
groundterra firma
solidity stasis
earth murmur
heart murmur
shock earthquake
sudden heart attack
life pulse curve quirk
shake up tremour killers
aftermath scenes surreal
distorts harmonic flow
after shocks rhythmic
raw heart beat surge
cost displacement
miss monuments
rock time counts
fallen edifices
bodies rigid
shattered
seismic
ground
waves
flow
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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