London Dawn
Dawn comes up on London,
And night's undone.
Stars are routed
And street lamps outed.
Sodden great clouds begin sail again
Like all-night anchored galleons to the main
From careful shallows to the far-withdrawn
Wide outer seas of sky,
Sleepers above river change their pain,
Lockhart's shows lively up Blackfriars Lane
Motors dash by
With 'Mirrors', 'Mails', 'Telegraphs' what not?
South shore of Thames on London shows a blot,
And first careful coffee-stall is withdrawn.
Only the poet strolls about at ease,
Wondering what mortal thing his soul may please,
And spitting at the drains, while Paul's as ever
Is mighty and a king of sky and river,
And cares no more, Much-Father, for this one
Broke child, although a poet-born and clever,
Than any spit-kid of seven million,
Must drudge all daylight till his earnings done.
A huffier has her red sails just a quiver;
Sun's very near now and the tide's a-run.
poem by Ivor Gurney
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Related quotes
Moon Shining Over The London Bridge
The sky is dark now
And the night is here again
But there is a moon shining over the London Bridge right over the sky
And I keep watching that moon while I rest for a while at the Thames River
But I can't take my eyes of the moon that is shining over the London Bridge right over the sky because it is beautiful to see
And at the same time it is getting late now but I don't mind at all because I Rather stay all night at The Thames river watching the moon shining over The London Bridge right over the sky
Yes the Big Ben chined midnight now and London is going to sleep
But I am falling asleep now at The Thames river below the naked three That is there at the Thanes River
Also all the buildings near The Thames river have their lights out
And I am sleeping in totall darkness and at the same time enjoying the Peace and quiet of the Thames river during the night
But near the Thames River is always cold and I don't mind at all Because I am dressed for this kind of weather
But this night at the Thames River I will always remember because it Will be the best sleep I ever had in years
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Thames! Beautiful Thames!
Thames! Beautiful Thames!
Thames River arises at Gloucestershire,
flows thro' London, the capital of U.K;
Thames River is tidal in London
With a rise and fall of 7 meters,
The river is fed by more than 20 tributaries;
The Thames River which flows alongside
several other towns and cities -
Oxford, Reading, Henley-on-Thames,
Windsor, Kingston upon Thames and Richmond -
is beautiful;
Thames River has a total length of 215 mile,
River banks on either side are beautiful,
Pavement strolling stretch on either side
is beautiful;
Boats sailing in Thames river are beautiful,
Young women who sail in the boats are beautiful,
White swan pairs' which swim in the river are beautiful;
Watching swans from the bridge,
- which spans Reading and Caversham -
somersaulting to catch the fish
is still more exciting and beautiful!
Thames! Beautiful Thames!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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London Boys
Cow bell strikes another night
Your eyes are heavy and your limbs all ache
You've bought some coffee, butter and bread
You can't make a thing cause the meter's dead
You moved away
Hold your folks you're gonna stay away
Bright lights, Soho, Wardour street
You hope you make friends with the guys that you meet
Somebody shows you round
Now you've met the London boys
Things seem good again, someone cares about you
Oh, the first time that you tried a pill
You feel a little queasy, decidedly ill
You're gonna be sick, but you mustn't lose faith
To let yourself down would be a big disgrace
With the London boys, with the London boys
You're only seventeen, but you think you've grown
In the month you've been away from your parents' home
You take the pills too much
You don't give a damn about that jobs you've got
So long as you're with the London boys
A London boy, oh a London boy
Your flashy clothes are your pride and joy
A London boy, a London boy
You think you've had a lot of fun
But you ain't got nothing, you're on the run
It's too late now, cause you're out there boy
You've got it made with the rest of the toys
Now you wish you'd never left your home
You've got what you wanted but you're on your own
With the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
Now you've met the London boys
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The London Boys
Cow bell strikes another night
Your eyes are heavy and your limbs all ache
Youve bought some coffee, butter and bread
You cant make a thing cause the meters dead
You moved away
Hold your folks youre gonna stay away
Bright lights, soho, wardour street
You hope you make friends with the guys that you meet
Somebody shows you round
Now youve met the london boys
Things seem good again, someone cares about you
Oh, the first time that you tried a pill
You feel a little queasy, decidedly ill
Youre gonna be sick, but you mustnt lose faith
To let yourself down would be a big disgrace
With the london boys, with the london boys
Youre only seventeen, but you think youve grown
In the month youve been away from your parents home
You take the pills too much
You dont give a damn about that jobs youve got
So long as youre with the london boys
A london boy, oh a london boy
Your flashy clothes are your pride and joy
A london boy, a london boy
You think youve had a lot of fun
But you aint got nothing, youre on the run
Its too late now, cause youre out there boy
Youve got it made with the rest of the toys
Now you wish youd never left your home
Youve got what you wanted but youre on your own
With the london boys
Now youve met the london boys
Now youve met the london boys
Now youve met the london boys
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O alone man on shore of river;
O alone man on shore of river;
behold thy beauty, in the way she wants to,
embrace thy dazzled eyes in yours poetic words
and run,
Night is yet to be youth; sit and sing for her,
River, Night, Moon, Dawn,
all would be here tomorrow,
O alone man on shore of river;
but she might not be!
Her village is not so far; either run or
sail in darkness of night to realize warmth of her company
O alone man on shore of river;
only do not behold thy beauty rather
feel herself in your Soul
O alone man on shore of river.
poem by Dhananjay Kumar
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Watching Swans From Caversham Bridge
Thames! Beautiful Thames! !
Thames flows through London
Thames is tidal With a rise and fall
of 7 meters in London;
Thames flows through 'Reading'
And its banks are beautiful,
Pavement strolling stretch on either side
is beautiful;
Boats sailing in Thames
Young women who sail in the boats
White swan pairs' which swim in the river
are beautiful;
Watching from Caversham bridge,
somersaulting swans catching the fish
is still more exciting!
Thames! Beautiful Thames! !
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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The Themes
This river is more than just water
This river is in every building, every stone every mortar
This river is an emotion not to be summed up in words
Only to be felt by those who have seen the life it holds
This river is the stars that shine off its suffice at night
The twinkling of an everlasting light
A show of strength, a show of might
A show that only the river can be right
For millions of years London has changed
But only one thing has ever been sustained
It kept the city moving so its never the same
That's why London owes its life to this ever pumping vein
poem by William Cheesman
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The Oldest Thing In London
A thousand landmarks perish,
A hundred streets grow strange;
With all the dreams they cherish
They go the ways of change;
But, whatso towers may tumble,
And whatso bridges fall,
And whatso statues crumble
Of folk both great and small,
The Oldest Thing in London he changes not at all.
The shoutings of the foeman,
The groanings of the slain,
The galley of the Roman,
The longship of the Dane,
The warring of the nations,
The judgment of the Lord
On heedless generations
In plague and fire and sword,
The Oldest Thing in London has known them and endured.
When London wall was builded
And London stone was new,
When first Paul's spire rose gilded
And gleaming in the blue,
Ere Holbein yet was christened,
When no one dreamed of Wren,
And clear the Ty-bourne glistened
And the Fleet was seen of men
The Oldest Thing in London was not much younger then.
New Londons rise like bubbles,
Like bubbles break and pass,
Or some dark dream that troubles
A wizard's magic glass;
A little while they hustle
And glitter in the sun,
And feast and fret and bustle
And chaffer, and have done -
The Oldest Thing in London he sees them every one.
No stones so strong to weather
Sun's heat or winter's blast
But time and man together
May tear them down at last;
The toughest rafters moulder,
The stoutest beams decay,
But he seems little older
From day to changing day -
The Oldest Thing in London that passes not away.
Each day to her, his daughter,
On each returning tide
He brings as first he brought her
Her dower of wealth and pride;
Twice daily, now as ever
At London's feet is laid
By London's ancient river
The burthen of her trade
By London's ancient river -
Way-hay, you London River!
The Oldest Thing in London, whereby was London made!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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Shadwell Stair
I am the ghost of Shadwell Stair.
Along the wharves by the water-house,
And through the cavernous slaughter-house,
I am the shadow that walks there.
Yet I have flesh both firm and cool,
And eyes tumultuous as the gems
Of moons and lamps in the full Thames
When dusk sails wavering down the pool.
Shuddering the purple street-arc burns
Where I watch always; from the banks
Dolorously the shipping clanks
And after me a strange tide turns.
I walk till the stars of London wane
And dawn creeps up the Shadwell Stair.
But when the crowing syrens blare
I with another ghost am lain.
poem by Wilfred Owen
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Down To London
Stop - whats that sound
Its the death rattle of this rusty old town
Stop - listen again
Its the sound of laughter all along the thames
Hey - whats my line
Do I have to stay here til the end of time
Im - good lookin and bright
I wanna see life after ten at night
So if they ask you where I am
Im in the back of a transit van
In a squat on the earls court road
Gone down to london turning coal into gold
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
Hey - whats your name
The boys back home all seem to look the same
You - should stick with me
And one of us will make it, just you see
Stop - whats that sound
Seems like the sixties are still swingin around
Hey - can you hear me back there
Or is there anybody left to care
So if you ask me where they are
Theyre hanging tough in a soho bar
Playing guitars in the underground
Gone down to london tryin to chase that sound
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
So I ask you should I cry or laugh
Drinking tea in a kings cross caff
A leather jacket against the cold
Gone down to london turning coal into gold
Down to london - down to london
Gone down to london to be the king
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London Song
Theres a room in a house in a street in a manor in a borough
Thats part of a city that is generally referred to as london
Its a dark place, a mysterious place
And it is said that if youre born within the sound of bow-bells
You have the necessary qualifications to be christened a londoner
[its a cruel place, its a hard place]
But when you think back to all the great londoners
William blake, charles dickens, dick whittington,
Pearly kings, barrow boys, arthur daley, max wall
And dont forget the kray twins
But if youre ever up on highgate hill on a clear day
You can see right down to leicester square [london, london]
Crystal palace, clapham common, right down to streatham hill
North and south, I feel that Im a londoner still [london, london]
Chiswick bridge to newham and east ham
Churchbells ring out through the land
You were born in london, england
[london, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london]
And theres a tap by a reservoir, leading to a stream,
That turns into a river estuary that eventually opens to the sea
[london, london]
And theres a docker by a wharf, sending cargo overseas,
Unloading foreign trade from a large ocean vessel
In the mighty metropolitan port of london
[london, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london]
When I think of all the londoners still unsung
East-enders, west-enders, oriental-enders
Fu manchu, sherlock holmes, jack spock, henry cooper,
Thomas abecket, thomas moore, and dont forget the kray twins
Theres a part of me that says get out
Then one day Ill hear somebody shout
Sounds to me like you come from london town
But if youre ever up on highgate hill on a clear day,
Ill be there [Ill be there]
Yes I will be there [there]
Through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
London, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
London, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By The Old Pagoda Anchorage [1926]
By the old Pagoda Anchorage they lay full fifteen strong,
And their spars were like a forest, and their names were like a song,
Fiery Cross
and
Falcon
there
Lay with
Spindrift
, doomed and fair,
And
Sir Lancelot
of a hundred famous fights with wind and wave:
Belted Will
and
Hallowe'en
With
Leander
there were seen,
And
Ariel
and
Titania
and
Robin Hood
the brave:
Thyatira
of the lovely name and proud
Thermopylae
,
By the old Pagoda Anchorage when clippers sailed the sea,
Racing home to London River -
Carry on for London River -
Crack her on for London River with her chests of China tea!
By the old Pagoda Anchorage (it's many a year ago!)
A sight it was to see them with their decks like drifted snow,
And their brasses winking bright,
And the gleaming gold and white
Of the carven kings and maidens on each slim and soaring bow,
And the high and slender spars
Humming shanties to the stars,
And the hulls whose speed and staunchness are a dead man's secret now -
The ships so brave and beautiful that never more shall be,
By the old Pagoda Anchorage when clippers sailed the sea,
Racing home to London River -
Crack her on for London River -
Carry on for London River with her chests of China tea!
By the old Pagoda Anchorage the clippers lie no more,
There is silence on the river, there is quiet on the shore,
And the silted channels seem
Still to murmur as in dream
Of the tea ships in their glory, lifting sea-ward on the tide,
All the strong and fair and fleet,
By those shores that used to meet,
And the valiant master mariners that walked their decks in pride,
By the old Pagoda Anchorage when clippers sailed the sea,
Logging fourteen on a bowline, ay, and seventeen running free,
Racing home for London River -
Crack her on for London River -
Carry on for London River with her chests of China tea!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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London
It was november 4th
I last held your hand
It seemed our time would last forever
You said dont ever leave
I thought youd never go
I wish I could just remember your name...
Youre just a memory now
Like all the ones before
But with your pain Ive had to suffer
Your eyes alight with flame
As the picture burns
I hear the screams from long ago
They cry remember, blood-red streaks on
Velvet throats at night
The streetlights fanned our trail of fame
Through
London london
The memories will never leave me
London london
All I see is you
London london
The cries in the night
Keep bringing me to
London london
Calling out to me
Oh theres some things in life I could never face
The worst is being alone
Sometimes I wish I could have taken your
Place my love
You know I dont want to live forever
Oh let me see you standing in the
Shadows once again
Well walk the streets like long ago in
London london
The fire in your eyes will be bringing me to
London london
All I need is you
The cries in the night keep ringing on in
London london
Calling out to you
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London
New York winter
Traffic squeals
The city feels...so old
Late December
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold
Got your letter Monday
I think
Or Tuesday
I lose track
Since then I've been thinking of you
And I've been
Looking back to
London
Can you believe it's
So many years since
London
Hitching a ride and
Carrying knapsacks
London
In the park
By the Thames
Drinking tea
London
Sitting in pubs and
Living in walk-ups
London
Learning the accent
Learnin' to love you
London
We were young
We we sure
We were...free
Was it really ages
Ago
The memories
Never fade
Can you hear Big Ben where
You are
And are you
Glad you stayed in
London
Dodging the rain with
Broken umbrellas
London
Reading the times
On Saturday picnics
London
Counting the stars,
'Till the stars
All were gone
London
So many plans and
Nothing but time in
London
Nothing to fear 'cause
Nothing could last in
London
We grew close
We grew scared
I moved on
Oh London
What were we scared of
Why did I run from
London
Part of me still has
Never come back from
London
Is it fair
That I miss
You so much
Take good care
All my love
Keep in touch
New York winter
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London
London, a silhouette of old and new buildings,
some, still with winding staircases,
dark dismal cellars and dusty attics.
Sky scrapers, office blocks,
chic cottages and town houses
in, tiny, back street lanes
where I seldom wander
The London Eye revolves in the sky line,
spying on us, ogling the City,
that old river Thames,
with its river boats, old ships,
odd ships and the Houses of Parliament,
offices, where we, the peasants
may only look through the glass.
As a child I truly believed
that one day, I'd go into every building,
curiosity my forte, but of course,
there are too many, mostly private,
barred from my prying eyes,
except for some Castles, the Palace,
the Tower and its dungeons.
These are the buildings of London,
with its art galleries, theatres,
churches and museums.
No doubt some are haunted,
their ghosts still walking
within their walls,
at dusk, when shadows fall.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Poet Without A Pen
A Poet without a Pen
On terrace I see city’s light shine as cold pearls along the bay,
but night sentinels have a duty to shine till first light of dawn.
Clouds are pushed around but sometimes there is a gap and
moonlight shines through. In the bay four cargo ships are
anchored, their mast lights are as low hanging bright stars.
Eight o´clock, evening and cooks on each ship are standing on
deck smoke a cigarette drinking coffee, glad this day is over.
Perhaps they see what I see before going into their cabin
leafing through old newspaper trying not to think of tomorrow.
Cooks on ships are dreamers neither crew nor officers and
every day they have to try to create something new with hand
and mind, sometimes overwhelmed, and since they never have
a day off, they tend to drink too, yet always do their duty.
A cook can´t articulate his longings or has he awareness to change.
Yet he continue his lonesome, unappreciated quest, because he
is a poet without a pen.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Isles Of Sleep.
The opiate isles upon time's sea
In the dream-dark
Rise with their harbours silently
Before each day-abandoned bark,
And the worn mariner anchors there
Till thought, new-waked in the dewy air,
Sings like a lark.
The silent isles with their dream-shores
On the waves float,
Whereto the faint-eyed mariner oars
Within the dusk his eerie boat;
All care put by, like one who knows
No tide there turns and no wind blows,
Near or remote!
From day to day upon time's main
We sail on so,
Sure every night some port to gain
In the dream-dark where no winds blow;
Until we too this sea have cross'd
E'en like the galleons that were tost
Here long ago.
Some seem each day to sail so far,
They reach that shore
So very soon where all things are
As they will be for evermore;
Some for so many a night and day
Have to drift on their lonely way
Ere all is o'er.
But all sails touch the land at last:
The slowest come
As in a mist out of the past —
The last dream-isle fades on the foam,
The last stars rise, the last stars set,
And there is but the last day yet
'Tween them and home.
poem by Robert Crawford
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London River
Half a score o' sailormen that want to sail once more,
Cruising round the waterside with the Peter at the fore!
Half a score o' sailormen the sea will never drown -
Seven days in open boats a-drifting up and down! -
Out to find another ship and sail from London Town!
Half a score o' sailormen broke and on the rocks,
Linking down Commercial Road, tramping round the Docks,
Half a score o' sailormen, torpedoed twice before,
Once was in the Channel chops, once was off the Nore,
Last was in the open sea five hundred mile from shore!
Half a score o' sailormen that want to sail again -
And her cargo's all aboard her, and it's blowing up for rain!
Half a score o' sailormen that won't come home to tea -
For she's dropping down the river with the Duster flying free -
Down the London River on the road to the open sea!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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London
CRUEL City, London, London,
Where, duped slaves of devils' creeds,
Men and women desperate, undone,
Dream such dreams, and do such deeds:
London, London, cruel city,
By day serpent, by night vampire —
God, in thy great pity, pity,
Give us light — though it be fire!
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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London West
While the Thames meanders gently through the green pasture
fields of Ingersoll, a pleasing picture to behold, how dif-
ferent, alas, is the feeling in London West, where the
river is an object of dread and terror, neither pleasing to
the eye or nostrils. As we have been living for the last
quarter of a century on the edge of one of the tributary
streams of the Thames and were once o'erwhelmed with
ruin dire by a number of the dams giving way, we can
sympathise with them. They are now built strong and
substantial, and the ponds are an ornament to the town,
as well as a source of wealth. The Caledonian Society,
of Ingersoll, donated $50 to the flood sufferers.
The citizens of London West
Their patience oft is put to test
When they behold the various dams
Do cause the floods and the ice jams.
'Tis true that fiercer rages floods
Since country it was stript of woods,
Acid river it doth broader spread
With numerous tile drains quicker fed.
If they did raise embankment high
They might the raging floods defy.
Shall they with sadness gaze ever,
Or with gladness on the river?
River with dams it will not wed,
It wants no strangers in its bed,
And 'gainst them it will rage and fret
for 'tis no gentle rivulet.
poem by James McIntyre
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