The Hounds
Far off a lonely hound
Telling his loneliness all round
To the dark woods, dark hills, and darker sea;
And, answering, the sound
Of that yet lonelier sea-hound
Telling his loneliness to the solitary stars.
Hearing, the kennelled hound
Some neighbourhood and comfort found,
And slept beneath the comfortless high stars.
But that wild sea-hound
Unkennelled, called all night all round--
The unneighboured and uncomforted cold sea.
poem by John Freeman
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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One-eyed Hound
Mister youve been caught at last
Chasing dogs in the moonlight
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
Mister youve got one more chance
If you catch the hound when the sun shines
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
And its all gone wrong
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
And its all been tried before
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
Have you seen the one-eyed hound?
Tell me where hes going
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
Every place that I have been
No-one else has seen him
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
And its all gone wrong
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
And its all been tried before
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
Everybodys telling me exactly where to go
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
People call and people talk
But they dont reach agreement
This man committed a sin
This man he never can win
And its all gone wrong
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
And its all been tried before
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
Night is the time for chasing the one-eyed hound
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hound Dog Man
Hey, hound dog man,
Where you been now,where you been?
I wish that you were back,
It was too good to ever end.
Once in a while someone like you
Will give everything for what you wanted to do.
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend play it again.
You gave the world a whole lot of joy
Now that aint bad for a country boy
I just knew you could not lose
The way you sang rock and roll and blues.
I still think about these things
And the memory that it brings
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend,play it again.
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend,play it again
Sometimes I think about james dean,
Sammy cooke and my teenage queen.
Doo ron, de ron, de ron,
Marilyn monroe and hot rod fun.
I still think about these things
And the memory that it brings.
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend,play it again.
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend why did it end?
Hey, hound dog man,
My old friend, why did it end.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song: Top Dog
Without the luxury or remorse,
of the kennelled cops on horse;
the addict dogs patrol the airport lounge.
I'm an Officer of the Force,
PC Dogie O'Hound, of course,
a taut spring, tight and tensioned, till unwound.
Dogie O'Hound, the cop from the Pound:
I hunts 'em down. I hunts 'em down.
I gets around as Dogie O'Hound,
to sniff out more quarry, pound for pound.
The dog cop is Halle-Boppe,
a comet to a grain.
You'll never stop the dogged cop;
hard-nosed and so well-trained.
The cop dog is top dog,
in the furry food-chain.
The cop dog, full chop dog,
smells guilt in flooding rain.
Dogie O'Hound, the cop from the Pound:
I hunts 'em down. I hunts 'em down.
Dogie O'Hound's no flip-flop, nor bound
by the laws of the jungle. My power's profound!
The cop dog's a hot dog,
whose nose can entertain,
the thick fog and mixed blog,
of false scent as no-brained.
The dog cop is hip-hop;
wild and unrestrained.
The dog cop is tip-top,
black ops and arts arcane.
With a known and honed resource,
my talent alone exhorts,
all lesser breeds to cower, as I confound.
I'm an Officer of the Force,
PC Dogie O'Hound, of course.
I am a blooded lurcher of renown.
Dogie O'Hound, the cop from the Pound:
I hunts 'em down. I hunts 'em down.
Dogie O'Hound, the new hero is crowned,
who harries and worries, and hunts 'em down.
poem by David SmithWhite
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dying Hunter to His Dog
Lie down -- lie down! -- my noble hound,
That joyful bark give o'er;
It wakes the lonely echoes round,
But rouses me no more --
Thy lifted ears, thy swelling chest,
Thy eyes so keenly bright,
No longer kindle in my breast
The thrill of fierce delight;
When following thee on foaming steed
My eager soul outstripped thy speed --
Lie down -- lie down -- my faithful hound!
And watch this night by me,
For thee again the horn shall sound
By mountain, stream, and tree;
And thou along the forest glade,
Shall track the flying deer
When cold and silent, I am laid
In chill oblivion here.
Another voice shall cheer thee on,
And glory when the chase is won.
Lie down -- lie down! -- my gallant hound!
Thy master's life is sped;
Go -- couch thee on the dewy ground --
'Tis thine to watch the dead.
But when the blush of early day
Is kindling up the sky,
Then speed thee, faithful friend, away,
And to thy mistress hie;
And guide her to this lonely spot,
Though my closed eyes behold her not --
Lie down -- lie down! -- my trusty hound!
Death comes, and we must part --
In my dull ear strange murmurs sound --
More faintly throbs my heart;
The many twinkling lights of heaven
Scarce glimmer in the blue --
Chill round me falls the breath of even,
Cold on my brow the dew;
Earth, stars, and heavens, are lost to sight --
The chase is o'er! -- brave friend, good night! --
poem by Susanna Strickland Moodie
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I’s Gots a Hound Dog Commin
I’s gots a hound dog commin,
He’s gonna sniff me out
Done went and smelled up Herbert
Done smelled up Janice too.
I’s gots a hound dog commin,
Done smelt out dees new wurds,
An hes gonna tear em up
Tear mes as down as well.
I’s Gots a hound dog commin,
Caint hide mys smell no mo,
Dem wurds puts out an oder,
Dat hound is boundda smell.
I’s gots a hound dog commin,
So I says goes, let em come,
He don’t know nuttin no ways,
No comments dat I’s fears.
I’s gots a hound dog commin,
Here doggie, I’s right here.
Come read dees wurds, an tells me,
Is dis a poet dat ya’s smell?
poem by Sandra Osborne
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The Black Hound
WHITE-TOOTHED is the Black Hound,
And ever, as he comes after,
There is no sweetness in wine,
Nor is there joyance in laughter.
Red-tongued is the Black Hound,
And ever, as he speeds baying,
There is no shaking him off,
Nor is there stopping or staying.
Keen-sensed in the thick dark
He follows for ever and ever;
Nought stays him in his pursuit —
Nor marsh, nor mountain, nor river.
Day-long through the broad light,
His tongue like a flame outleaping,
He hunts; and we fly before,
Wan-faced, foot-weary and weeping.
Night-through in the still hours
When stars in the sky assemble,
We hear his cry on the roads,
And startled, staring, we tremble.
White-toothed is the Black Hound,
And speed to his limbs is given;
God help and pity us all
Who fly for ever, hard-driven!
Time comes when the feet fail
Or drag on the ways, unwilling;
Then fast, froth-flakes on his jaws,
He speeds keen-fanged to the killing.
Then some, as they pass, say —
Few pausing, and weeping, fewer —
'Hound-work is this that we see,
Fang-work of him, the Pursuer!'
Black Care is the Black Hound,
And ever 'tis his to follow
Pale men from birth to that hour
When grave-mouths open and swallow.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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He Mourns For The Change That Has Come Upon Him And His Beloved, And Longs For The End Of The World
DO you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns?
I have been changed to a hound with one red ear;
I have been in the Path of Stones and the Wood of Thorns,
For somebody hid hatred and hope and desire and fear
Under my feet that they follow you night and day.
A man with a hazel wand came without sound;
He changed me suddenly; I was looking another way;
And now my calling is but the calling of a hound;
And Time and Birth and Change are hurrying by.
I would that the Boar without bristles had come from the West
And had rooted the sun and moon and stars out of the sky
And lay in the darkness, grunting, and turning to his rest.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Old King
King went a-runnin after deer
Wasnt scared of jumpin off the truck in high gear
King went a-sniffin and he would go
Was the best old hound dog I ever did know.
I had a dog and his name was king
I told the dog about everything
There in my truck the dog and i
Then one day the king up and died.
Then I thought about the times we had
Once when I kicked him when he was bad
Old king sure meant a lot to me
But that hound dog is history.
King went a-runnin after deer
Wasnt scared of jumpin off the truck in high gear
King went a-sniffin and he would go
Was the best old hound dog I ever did know.
That old king was a friend of mine
Never knew a dog that was half as fine
I may find one, you never do know
cause I still got a long way to go.
I had a dog and his name was king
I told the dog about everything
Old king sure meant a lot to me
But that hound dog is history.
King went a-howlin after deer
Wasnt scared of jumpin off the truck in high gear
King went a-sniffin and he would go
Was the best old hound dog I ever did know.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The moth hound
Of a coon hound
you have heard
there's plenty around
i have found
a very strange dog
who's nothing, but a moth hound
when ever, you see
he sees a moth near by
the moth trys to flee,
it isn't no match
as my dog goes after the moth,
and makes a wonderful catch
he eats it all the way
and chews and swallows
he looks at me, now he wants to play
The Porcupine
Any hound a porcupine nudges
Can't be blamed for harboring grudges.
I know one hound that laughed all winter
At a porcupine that sat on a splinter.
poem by Ogden Nash
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Hound Doggie
The hound dog is
going to work
he is going to work
he is out there
running in the woods
he is going to work
he is going to work
he is ready
he is going to work
going to work
he is out there
he is going to work
going to work
he's the hound dog
Copyright ©2006
poem by Adryan Rotica
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Hound Voice
BECAUSE we love bare hills and stunted trees
And were the last to choose the settled ground,
Its boredom of the desk or of the spade, because
So many years companioned by a hound,
Our voices carry; and though slumber-bound,
Some few half wake and half renew their choice,
Give tongue, proclaim their hidden name -- 'Hound Voice.'
The women that I picked spoke sweet and low
And yet gave tongue. 'Hound Voices' were they all.
We picked each other from afar and knew
What hour of terror comes to test the soul,
And in that terror's name obeyed the call,
And understood, what none have understood,
Those images that waken in the blood.
Some day we shall get up before the dawn
And find our ancient hounds before the door,
And wide awake know that the hunt is on;
Stumbling upon the blood-dark track once more,
Then stumbling to the kill beside the shore;
Then cleaning out and bandaging of wounds,
And chantS of victory amid the encircling hounds.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Hound Dog
By jerry lieber and mike stoller
You aint nothing but a hound dog
Been snoopin round my door
You aint nothing but a hound dog
Been snoopin round my door
You can wag your tail
But I aint gonna feed you no more
You told me you was high class
I could see through that
You told me you was high class
I could see through that
And baby I know
You aint no real cool cat
First verse
You made me feel so blue
You made me weep and moan
You made me feel so blue
You made me weep and moan
cause Im looking for a woman
All your lookin for is a home
First verse
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Is Loneliness
All is loneliness
Loneliness here for me
Loneliness here for me.
All is loneliness
Loneliness here for me
Loneliness here for me.
All is loneliness
Loneliness here for me
Loneliness here for me.
All is loneliness
Loneliness here for me
Loneliness here for me.
All is loneliness
Loneliness here for me
Loneliness here for me
Loneliness here for me
Loneliness here for me.
Loneliness come on bother me
Want me 'round my door.
I get loneliness
I get loneliness
I get loneliness
I get loneliness
Loneliness, heck i said loneliness
Lord, loneliness, yeah, i said loneliness.
I said loneliness come on by my bed
Gonna worry me 'round on my door-mat.
I said loneliness come and found me,
I said you found me whole.
Yeah and now loneliness
Lordy lordy loneliness
Lordy lordy loneliness
Lordy lordy loneliness
Yeah, loneliness
Oh loneliness
Oh loneliness
Oh loneliness
Oh loneliness
Oh loneliness
Oh loneliness
Oh loneliness
Ah loneliness
Ah loneliness
Loneliness
Loneliness
Loneliness
Loneliness.
Every day when i walk home
I see loneliness
When i waited for my baby.
You know i open my front door,
I said mr. loneliness is waiting for me at home
Lordy, lord at home, lord at home, lo-o-o-rd at home.
You know, i get home every day, lord,
There ain't nobody waiting there, man
And i ain't got no girlfriends, and i ain't got no boyfriends, man.
I ain't got no any kind of friends, man, i ain't got no...
My tv set doesn't work, my radio doesn't work, man.
I come home there's nothing
Nothing, man, there's no animals moving,
There's nothing, man
Walk in that door seems like i'm sitting there every day, man.
Lord, loneliness
Lord, loneliness
Ah, ah, loneliness
Loneliness
Loneliness
Loneliness
Loneliness
Lord.
All right!
song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Songs of a Fool
I
A speckled cat and a tame hare
Eat at my hearthstone
And seep there;
And both look up to me alone
For learning and defence
As I look up to Providence.
I start out of my sleep to think
Some day I may forget
Their food and drink;
Or, the house door left unshut,
The hare may run till it's found
The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.
I bear a burden that might well try
Men that do all by rule,
And what can I
That am a wandering-witted fool
But pray to God that He ease
My great responsibilities?
II
I slept on my three-leged stool by the fire,
The speckled cat slept on my knee;
We never thought to enquire
Where the brown hare might be,
And whether the door were shut.
Who knows how she drank the wind
Stretched up on two legs from the mat,
Before she had settled her mind
To drum with her heel and to leap?
Had I but awakened from sleep
And called her name, she had heard,
It may be, and not have stirred,
That now, it may be, has found
The horn's sweet note and the tooth of the hound.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Swamp Music
(ed king - ronnie vanzant)
Going down to the swamp
Gonna watch me a hound dog catch a coon
Well, Im going down to the swamp
Gonna watch me a hound dog catch a coon
You know the hounddog make-a music
On a summer night under a full moon
Lord, fetch my cane pole mama
Gonna catch a bream or maybe two
Lord, fetch my cane pole mama
Gonna catch a bream or maybe two
And when the hound dog start barkin
Sounds like ol son house singin the blues
(chorus)
Hound dog sing that
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
When the hound dog starts singin
I aint got them big ol city blues
Well, hey pretty mama
Lord, just take that city hike
Said go ahead pretty mama
Lord, just take your city hike
Well, Id rather live with the hound dogs
For the rest of my natural born life
(chorus)
Singing that
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
Swamp, swamp, swamp, swamp music
Well, Id rather live with the hounddogs
For the rest of my natural born life
Well, Id wanna live with the hound dogs
For the rest of my natural born life
song performed by by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Call Of The Whippoorwill
I hear the call of the whippoorwill
The calf it bawls in the field
The mare is soon to birth a foul
I can't help it, I miss you still
I feed the geese that once loved you
And that hound from the field you found
The puppy stray you brought home and raised
I pet him while he's lying down
Honey come home...
Without you it's not any kind of home
Own my own, I'm so alone
Honey, please come home
Your hound and I we so try
Through the days we somehow get by
We think we can make it, then comes the night
The loneliness we must fight
The whippoorwill as it calls from the field
Sometimes your name I hear it feels
I miss you so, I love you still
Honey, I always will
Honey come home...
Without you it's not any kind of home
Own my own, I'm so alone
Honey, please come home
The whippoorwill and I we both try
I hear it call I hear it cry
Something is missing from both of our lives
Honey, I'm so empty inside
Honey come home...
Without you it's not any kind of home
Own my own, I'm so alone
Honey, please come home.
poem by Bill Simmons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dog And The Cat
The dog says to the cat
'Why don't you come down from that tree
I'll only chew you up and spit you out
And make you my new treat'
The cat stretches and yawns a bit
And says, ' You only think you want me down
But I'll tell you now you stupid dog
You a mutt, you ain't no hound'
'Now you've done it! 'says the dog
'I just marked your tree! '
'When you do come down we'll know the truth
About those nine lives you keep! '
'This is this and that is that! '
Said from the tree the cat
'Stupid dog thinks he's a hound
But ain't nothing but a lazy brat! '
'All you do is lay around all day
And poop where ever you go!
At least I got some dignity
I dig myself a hole'
Now the dog was steaming mad
'You come on down from that tree! '
'I'll show you some hound found
And I'll chew on that dignity! '
About that time a young girl comes out
She spates that dog on his rump
The cat she seen and jumped right into her arms
From that tree with one big jump
'Don't scare my kitty! ' the girl said
'Or I'll just have to give you away! '
The cat now stuck her tongue out at the dog
And she did still have this to say
'You see I told you, you stupid mutt of a dog
How do you like that on your rump!
You don't even know after all this time
You've been sitting in your own dump! '
copyright 2005 Bill Simmons
aka [email protected]
poem by Bill Simmons
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Beddgelert - (pron. Beth-gelert)
‘There once was a Prince called Llywelyn, Dai bach,
The Lord of this Snowdon Wales,
Back in the mists of the mountain, when times
Saw wolves leave their blood-stained trails.'
(I sat by the Church of St. Mary out there,
The vicar stared out on his fold,
His rheumy old eyes held the myth and the lies
That the Welsh told the people of old!)
I listened, he spoke, and I doubted him then,
The story he told so bizarre,
But when he had finished, I baited my breath,
Walked musingly back to my car.
Llywelyn, the hunter, was given a hound,
A present from England's King John,
A mighty wolf hound that he treasured and took
On his hunting trips, loping along.
The Prince had an heir that was merely a babe,
Still swaddled in linens and veils,
The child was his joy, he'd been blessed with a boy,
He was one of the Princes of Wales.
Llywelyn went hunting abroad with his pack,
The hounds were all baying the way,
The buglers followed, their blasts on the horn
Drove the hogs that were leading the fray!
The hunt brought them venison, gammon and fowl,
The hunt brought them mutton and game,
But Gelert, the hound, was nowhere to be found
Though the Prince called, and bellowed his name.
Llywelyn rode back to the palace at dusk,
Dismounted and looked for his son,
The cot was all bloodstained, the covers were torn
And a sign of the child, there was none!
Then Gelert leapt up, and he greeted the Prince
With a loud joyous cry in the dark,
His fur was all bloodied, his teeth dripped with gore,
And Llywelyn shrank back at his bark.
In thinking his son had been slaughtered, the Prince
Cried out as he lifted his sword,
And ran through the hound as he fell to the ground
And he cursed and he cried, the good lord!
But then came an answering, pitiful cry
From the child that lay under a bed,
The boy was uncut, but was smeared with the blood
Of the wolf that lay next to him, dead!
The throat had been torn from the wolf by the hound,
Brave Gelert defended the son,
And now that the Prince held the child in his arms
He reflected on what he had done!
He cradled the body of Gelert and wept,
And buried in honour his hound,
He set up a stone with the tale that it told
And it stands there today, on its ground.
The place is Beddgelert, in Gwynedd, look you,
And hundreds of years have gone by,
But history tells us, Llewelyn the Great,
Was never again seen to smile!
David Lewis Paget
poem by David Lewis Paget
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