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Prosperity cannot be restored by raids upon the public Treasury.

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Upon The Silent, Lonely Hill

Many sleepless nights I spent
Upon the silent, lonely hill.
An invitation for others to join,
But I was the only one who went.
Silence is golden,
Especially in a crowd.
But having no one to share the silence with,
Cannot possibly make a man proud.

Silence among the trees,
Silence among the lakes.
And only by distraction silence breaks.
But overall,
Silence is desolate.
And bitter to the end.

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To Peck Upon The Hands Of God

what i see
every morning
on the same
time of
this
wrecking hour
is what pushes
me
to do
all these
writings on
the wall

i pity myself
but what can i do?

it creates all
the drum sounds in
my heart
and i am dancing wildly
in this forest
without the light
of the sun
yet

it caresses my
skin
like the massage
that one cannot forget
and so keeps
on returning

there is nothing
wrong here
nothing evil
it is
the mouth of heaven
speaking

there is no guilt
anymore
but after all these
wriggling
what hovers
in the fields are
the birds of
boredom
and the air of loneliness
keeps
blowing

i pity myself
this bird that flies high in the sky
without the fear
of falling

far from the mountains
wanting to
peck upon
the hands
of God

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Song at the Feast of Brougham Castle upon the Restoration o

, High in the breathless Hall the Minstrel sate,
And Emont's murmur mingled with the Song.--
The words of ancient time I thus translate,
A festal strain that hath been silent long:--
"From town to town, from tower to tower,
The red rose is a gladsome flower.
Her thirty years of winter past,
The red rose is revived at last;
She lifts her head for endless spring,
For everlasting blossoming:
Both roses flourish, red and white:
In love and sisterly delight
The two that were at strife are blended,
And all old troubles now are ended.--
Joy! joy to both! but most to her
Who is the flower of Lancaster!
Behold her how She smiles to-day
On this great throng, this bright array!
Fair greeting doth she send to all
From every corner of the hall;
But chiefly from above the board
Where sits in state our rightful Lord,
A Clifford to his own restored!

"They came with banner, spear, and shield;
And it was proved in Bosworth-field.
Not long the Avenger was withstood--
Earth helped him with the cry of blood:
St. George was for us, and the might
Of blessed Angels crowned the right.
Loud voice the Land has uttered forth,
We loudest in the faithful north:
Our fields rejoice, our mountains ring,
Our streams proclaim a welcoming;
Our strong-abodes and castles see
The glory of their loyalty.

"How glad is Skipton at this hour--
Though lonely, a deserted Tower;
Knight, squire, and yeoman, page and groom,
We have them at the feast of Brough'm.
How glad Pendragon--though the sleep
Of years be on her!--She shall reap
A taste of this great pleasure, viewing
As in a dream her own renewing.
Rejoiced is Brough, right glad, I deem,
Beside her little humble stream;
And she that keepeth watch and ward
Her statelier Eden's course to guard;
They both are happy at this hour,
Though each is but a lonely Tower:--
But here is perfect joy and pride
For one fair House by Emont's side,
This day, distinguished without peer,
To see her Master and to cheer--
Him, and his Lady-mother dear!

"Oh! it was a time forlorn
When the fatherless was born--
Give her wings that she may fly,
Or she sees her infant die!
Swords that are with slaughter wild
Hunt the Mother and the Child.
Who will take them from the light?
--Yonder is a man in sight--
Yonder is a house--but where?
No, they must not enter there.
To the caves, and to the brooks,
To the clouds of heaven she looks;
She is speechless, but her eyes
Pray in ghostly agonies.
Blissful Mary, Mother mild,
Maid and Mother undefiled,
Save a Mother and her Child!

"Now who is he that bounds with joy
On Carrock's side, a Shepherd-boy?
No thoughts hath he but thoughts that pass
Light as the wind along the grass.
Can this be He who hither came
In secret, like a smothered flame?
O'er whom such thankful tears were shed
For shelter, and a poor man's bread!
God loves the Child; and God hath willed
That those dear words should be fulfilled,
The Lady's words, when forced away
The last she to her Babe did say:
"My own, my own, thy fellow-guest
I may not be; but rest thee, rest,
For lowly shepherd's life is best!"

"Alas! when evil men are strong
No life is good, no pleasure long.
The Boy must part from Mosedale's groves,
And leave Blencathara's rugged coves,
And quit the flowers that summer brings
To Glenderamakin's lofty springs;
Must vanish, and his careless cheer
Be turned to heaviness and fear.
--Give Sir Lancelot Threlkeld praise!
Hear it, good man, old in days!
Thou tree of covert and of rest
For this young Bird that is distrest;
Among thy branches safe he lay,
And he was free to sport and play,
When falcons were abroad for prey.


"A recreant harp, that sings of fear
And heaviness in Clifford's ear!
I said, when evil men are strong,
No life is good, no pleasure long,
A weak and cowardly untruth!
Our Clifford was a happy Youth,
And thankful through a weary time,
That brought him up to manhood's prime.
--Again he wanders forth at will,
And tends a flock from hill to hill:
His garb is humble; ne'er was seen
Such garb with such a noble mien;
Among the shepherd-grooms no mate
Hath he, a Child of strength and state!
Yet lacks not friends for simple glee,
Nor yet for higher sympathy.


To his side the fallow-deer
Came and rested without fear;
The eagle, lord of land and sea,
Stooped down to pay him fealty;
And both the undying fish that swim
Through Bowscale-tarn did wait on him;
The pair were servants of his eye
In their immortality;
And glancing, gleaming, dark or bright,
Moved to and fro, for his delight.
He knew the rocks which Angels haunt
Upon the mountains visitant;
He hath kenned them taking wing:
And into caves where Faeries sing
He hath entered; and been told
By Voices how men lived of old.
Among the heavens his eye can see
The face of thing that is to be;
And, if that men report him right,
His tongue could whisper words of might.
--Now another day is come,
Fitter hope, and nobler doom;
He hath thrown aside his crook,
And hath buried deep his book;
Armour rusting in his halls
On the blood of Clifford calls,--
'Quell the Scot,' exclaims the Lance--
Bear me to the heart of France,
Is the longing of the Shield--
Tell thy name, thou trembling field;
Field of death, where'er thou be,
Groan thou with our victory!
Happy day, and mighty hour,
When our Shepherd, in his power,
Mailed and horsed, with lance and sword,
To his ancestors restored
Like a re-appearing Star,
Like a glory from afar
First shall head the flock of war!"


Alas! the impassioned minstrel did not know
How, by Heaven's grace, this Clifford's heart was framed:
How he, long forced in humble walks to go,
Was softened into feeling, soothed, and tamed.


Love had he found in huts where poor men lie;
His daily teachers had been woods and rills,
The silence that is in the starry sky,
The sleep that is among the lonely hills.


In him the savage virtue of the Race,
Revenge and all ferocious thoughts were dead:
Nor did he change; but kept in lofty place
The wisdom which adversity had bred.


Glad were the vales, and every cottage-hearth;
The Shepherd-lord was honoured more and more;
And, ages after he was laid in earth,
"The good Lord Clifford" was the name he bore.

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Breathe Upon The Sky

Just breathe upon the sky
Because the sky is giving you all the air to breathe

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Upon The Blades

upon the blades of rice plants
the light of the sun lands

completing the silence of the
red dragonfly

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Emily Dickinson

A Shade upon the mind there passes

882

A Shade upon the mind there passes
As when on Noon
A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses
Remembering

That some there be too numb to notice
Oh God
Why give if Thou must take away
The Loved?

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Upon The Wings Of The Sparrow

upon the wings of the sparrow
shall i be swift

upon the gentle coos of the dove
shall i be tranquil

upon the patience of the spider
(despite you calling it a cliche)
shall i always wait
for you....

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Like the Floods Upon the Dry Ground

From the wombs and into the world!
But with many bombs around mankind;
And like the joy of the muse of love with your partner,
But pour water upon him of her who is thirsty!
And like the floods upon the dry ground.

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Emily Dickinson

A throe upon the features

71

A throe upon the features—
A hurry in the breath—
An ecstasy of parting
Denominated "Death"—

An anguish at the mention
Which when to patience grown,
I've known permission given
To rejoin its own.

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Emily Dickinson

The Mountain sat upon the Plain

975

The Mountain sat upon the Plain
In his tremendous Chair—
His observation omnifold,
His inquest, everywhere—

The Seasons played around his knees
Like Children round a sire—
Grandfather of the Days is He
Of Dawn, the Ancestor—

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There's A Shade Upon The Sky-line

There’s a shade upon the sky-line
A sort of pink to edge the day
While the sky itself is darkening
But still glowing in a way
That slow speaks of summer’s coming
And a breeze just gently blows
For the seasons they are changing
As a bud becomes a rose.

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A Thousand Souls Upon The Shore

Can you find your peace in a house of glass?
Can you see the future in the past?
Can you hear upon the howling winds
The songs that siren lovers sing?

A thousand souls upon the shore
A thousand souls they're seeking more
More than any one soul can bring.

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The Doll Upon The Topmost Bough

This doll upon the topmost bough,
This playmate-gift, in Christmas dress,
Was taken down and brought to me
One sleety night most comfortless.

Her hair was gold, her dolly-sash
Was gray brocade, most good to see.
The dear toy laughed, and I forgot
The ill the new year promised me.

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Upon The Hills Of Georgia

Dark falls upon the hills of Georgia,
I hear Aragva's roar.
I'm sad and light, my grief - transparent,
My sorrow is suffused with you,
With you, with you alone...My melancholy
Remains untouched and undisturbed,
And once again my heart ignites and loves
Because it can't do otherwise.

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Upon the Lawn - 0088 - Initial Version

Upon the lawn there lay last night
a crystal carpet, cotton white,
soon morn shall dawn with golden ray
and spirit all the snow away.
Yet with a little luck we might
enjoy the sight and share delight,
and if snow thaws, as well it may,
we know we will recall this day.

(23 June 1975)

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Mad Dogs Feast Upon The Weak

Only mad dogs
power insatiable
will prey upon
the wretched
forsaken
of the earth.

Only mad dogs
will boast
of exploiting
the wretched
down trodden
of the earth.


Hopelessness
faith
devouring
hopelessness...

is a cancer
mastered cured
true disciples
live by faith alone...


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Written Upon The Palm

That which ADONAI

has written
upon the palm
of this...

my hand he hath created


is not for thee to read
astrological signs
are not for thee to decipher
for it is not given


unto me even the authority
to direct my own feet
let alone read random etchings
palmed off wavering... lines ad libitum


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Out Upon The Ocean

Out upon the ocean,
wish under the stars,
hoping hearts are not crying,
living with the scares,
beaten down with sorrow,
misery hidden with in,
long nights of loneliness,
troubles only under the skin,
cries of desperation,
fear in what will come,
only can wait for sunrise,
to see all of the debris.

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Upon The Wind And Waves

Andy tooks us down upon the keyside
To board the silver boat
Upon the Wind and Waves
And Daniel he harrelted the boat
And directed her well
Across the Wind and Waves
And Johnny took us on the boat
He held the sails, he tied the ropes
Upon the Wind and Waves
And Desiree she watched the ocean
Fair Upon the wind and Waves

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Upon The Wind And Waves

Andy tooks us down upon the keyside
To board the silver boat
Upon the Wind and Waves
And Daniel he harrelted the boat
And directed her well
Across the Wind and Waves
And Johnny took us on the boat
He held the sails, he tied the ropes
Upon the Wind and Waves
And Desiree she watched the ocean
Fair Upon the wind and Waves

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