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What price freedom?

People wandering, mingling
Along busy, crowded streets
A chorus of voices
Rises and falls
The loudest voice cries 'freedom'

A blinding, flashing light
The roaring boom of thunder

Mangled, torn bodies
Litter the blood soaked streets
The scent of death lingers
A sweet and ghastly smell
A crumbling building falls
Echoing screams of despair
What price freedom?
What price freedom?

poem by Niall O'Hagan
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Statistically Speaking

Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
From the viewpoint of a human being...
I detect us humans,
Are the least important things,
On this Earth.
And the water, grass and trees...
Are the 'real' things,
Mother Nature wishes more to treat!

I perceive our existence here,
Is not so high on the list.
Since we are an experiment.
Even though we choose to think of ourselves,
As the center of the universe.
And here to live in a permanence!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.

We leech and feed,
Off what nature offers.
We know nothing but conflict!
And this chaos we foster.
There are laws created to discriminate.
Yet we discuss things loved...
And show how much we despise and hate.
We infiltrate and pillage,
Lands where others live.
We take without thought.
Causing blood to shed.
And worship heartache.
As we lay alone sleepless in our beds!

Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With faith we fake brotherhood!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Believing prayer delivers escape!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
And cry like spoiled children!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With no guilt of remorse to eliminate...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Chick-a-boom

Hey girl,
When ya swish and sway
In your yellow dress
cross a crowded room,
Boom, chicka-boom, chicka-boom.
Hey girl,
Freckles on your arm,
Freckles on your face,
Cant we find a place
In a crowded room, we go
Boom, chicka-boom, chicka-boom,
[boom, chicka-boom, chicka-boom] (backup singers)
Boom,
[chicka-boom, chicka-boom-boom]
Boom, boom, boom, chicka-boom.
A-hey, girl,
Im goin away,
But Im comin back
With a ginger cat.
What ya think a that?
Hey girl,
I goin away,
But Im comin back
By the railroad track,
Where the trains go by,
And we sit and we cry in the gloom,
Boom, chicka-boom,
[chicka-boom, chicka-boom]
[chicka-boom, chicka-boom-boom]
Hey girl,
[chicka-chicka-chicka-boom]
When ya swish and sway
In your yellow dress
cross a crowded room,
Boom,
Boom, chicka-boom, chicka-boom,
[chicka-boom, chicka-boom]
Boom, chicka-boom, chicka-boom,
[chicka-boom, chicka-boom-boom]
Chicka, chicka-boom, chicka-boom, chicka-boom, chicka-boom,
[chicka-chicka-chicka-boom]
Chicka-chicka-boom-boom,
[chicka-boom, chicka-boom]
Chick, chicka-boom,
[chicka-boom, chicka-boom-boom]
Boom, chicka-boom,
[chicka-chicka-chicka-boom]
Chicka-chicka-chicka-boom, chicka-boom,
[chicka-boom, chicka-boom]
Chick, chick, chicka-boom,

[...] Read more

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Blow Up

1-2-3-4
Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom bah.
Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom bah.
Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom bah.
Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom...
From the grass
Bah bah bah boom
They grew
Bah bah bah boom
Who knew
Bah bah bah boom
We would see them looking up
Bah bah bah boom
Not down
Bah bah bah boom
With frowns
Bah bah bah boom
Something got them...
Off the ground.
Oh...
Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom bah.
Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom bah.
Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom bah.
Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom...
One day
Bah bah bah boom
Dues paid
Bah bah bah boom
They said
Bah bah bah boom
They would blow up.
And be somebody!

Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom...
One day
Bahbah boom bahbah boom,
They said
Bahbah boom bahbah boom,
They would grow up,
And be somebody!

Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom bah.
Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom bah.
Boom bahbah boom bahbah boom,
Blow up...
And be that 'body'!

Boombah boombah boom bah
Boombah boombah boom bah
Boombah boombah boom...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Who Lowered 'This' Boom?

Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.

Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.

There is a generation crying.
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.

There are so many people sighing.
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.

Didn't we pay when we prayed with preachers?
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.

Didn't we say we were through with leechers?
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.

Oooooow....
Boom da boom boom
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Oooooow....
Boom da boom boom
Boomidy boomidy boom.

And these are the days...
So ripe for change.
And those who are amazed,
Can't believe the craze.
And the masses who are dazed!

Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Boom

complicated
understanding what you can achieve
under-rated
the one to win
one who believes
if I go away
would you follow me
to that special place of tranquility
where the..
river flows
and the fields are golden
come on, come on
yeah
boom
here to rock ya
boom
never stop, no
boom
raise up high
boom
oh, I'm
boom boom boom boom
here to rock ya
boom
never stop, no
boom
raise up high
boom boom boom boom
heya heya yeah heya boom yeah yeah heya
etc.
take no
prisoners
fight to win
and you will survive
falling
reason
just be the flame and spirit come alive
if I go away
would you follow me
to that special place of tranquility
where the..
river flows
and the fields are golden
oooh
coooome on
boom
here to rock ya
boom
never stop, no
boom

[...] Read more

song performed by Anastacia
Added by Lucian Velea
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With A Wish To Get A Bigger Bang

Boom, boom, boom.
Children listening to their videos.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With the sound plugged in their ears.
And boom, boom, boom.
Violence is for them addicting,
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.

Boom, boom, boom.
Children listening to their videos.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.

Spilling blood and guts are nothing,
To the kids who love it much.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.

It's a thrill for them to see somebody getting killed,
And...
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
And for them it's nothing but a game.

Boom, boom, boom.
Children listening to their videos.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
With the sound plugged in their ears.
And boom, boom, boom.
Violence is for them addicting,
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Boom, boom, boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Violence is for them addicting,
And it's nothing but a game.
Boom, boom, boom.
With a wish to get a bigger bang.
Violence is for them addicting,
And it's nothing but a game.
Boom, boom, boom...
A game addicting and insane!

Violence is for them addicting,
And it's nothing but a game.
Boom, boom, boom...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Boom - The Official Song Of 2002 Fifa World Cup

Complicated
Understanding what you can achieve
Under-rated
The one to win
One who believes
If I go away
Would you follow me
To that special place of tranquility
Where the..
River flows
And the fields are golden
Come on, come on
Yeah
Boom
Here to rock ya
Boom
Never stop, no
Boom
Raise up high
Boom
Oh, im
Boom boom boom boom
Here to rock ya
Boom
Never stop, no
Boom
Raise up high
Boom boom boom boom
Oo yeh yeh yi yeh ya oo yeh yeh yi yeh ya oo yeh yeh yi yeh ya oo yeh yeh yi
Yeh ya oo yeh yeh yi yeh ya oo yeh yeh yi yeh ya oo yeh yeh yi yeh ya oo yeh
Yeh yi yeh ya...
Take no
Prisoners
Fight to win
And you will survive
Falling
Reason
Just be the flame and spirit come alive
If I go away
Would you follow me
To that special place of tranquility
Where the..
River flows
And the fields are golden
Oooh
Coooome on
Boom
Here to rock ya
Boom
Never stop, no

[...] Read more

song performed by Anastacia
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Beldame of Death

A crunch: afoot a dead arachnid
Spanning once a serving plate –
Oh! that others be alive
With such as me for spider bait!

I slunk along the silent hall
Of ancient ore attired in grime –
Feculent beyond the nose;
No bearing here, nor feel for time.

I shuddered in appreciation –
The ambience would mortify
A feeble mind, aghast, opined
Of murky thought, and typify
The will of Belial err I brought
Upon myself to loathe and dread
Exquisite retribution: to linger
Oftentimes alive, then dead.

Compulsion saw me edging on
Toward a narrow door of oak.
Behind, I knew, a greater evil
Waiting in her fusty cloak.

A choice of nil upon the table;
Aught of leave, I had to face
Alone the shrew – her flaming aura
Angling me; my deep disgrace
From ugly deeds I dealt in life,
A heinous world I honed in glee…

'Now take a crooked path to death,
For I have come to torture thee! '

Out of eyes of orange flame,
A piercing glare, then here it came –
The cackling cry of chanting song:

'You thought you'd die alone in pain
The once – nay nay! you'll die with me,
And so a catch: you'll die again
Ad infinitum - ever be!

Your soul to curse, my heart we'll gore,
Your liver to draw and quarter;
A sadomasochistic pair,
We'll slither together in slaughter! '

I answered only with a scream, from
Sensing near her craving lust.

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Ka-Boom Ka-Boom

Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
We're a death marching band, peter pan off the wagon
Entertain but never trust anyone sober
What tastes less but tastes good, my stop hats top hating
Unsane cheerleaders porn poms in pipe bombs
I won't do it with you, I'll do it to you
I hope this hook gets caught in your mouth
I won't do it with you, I'll do it to you
Don't say no, just say now
I like a big car cause I'm a big star
I'll make a big rock and roll hit
I'd like to love you but my heart is a sore
I am, I am, I am so yours
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
I'd like to la-la-la-la love you
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
I'd like to la-la-la-la love you
I'm the leader of the club, and I've shrugged off my mouse ears
We fly no-class Dumbo jets, and drive hardcore-o-vettes
We fight war with drugs, and our sex always formal
We wear lawsuits when we get high, high, high
I won't do it with you, I'll do it to you
I hope this hook gets caught in your mouth
I won't do it with you, I'll do it to you
Don't say no, just say now
I like a big car cause I'm a big star
I'll make a big rock and roll hit
I'd like to love you but my heart is a sore
I am, I am, I am so yours
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
I'd like to la-la-la-la love you
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
Ka-Boom, Ka-Boom
I'd like to la-la-la-la love you
Inhale exhale, lets all hail
It's a depraved new world
Inhale exhale, lets all hail
It's a depraved new world
I like a big car cause I'm a big star
I'll make a big rock and roll hit

[...] Read more

song performed by Marilyn Manson
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Got That

Shorty! We're gona go 2 the club n get crunk wi Britney
Shorty! She thinks she's fine. Fine enough to blow your mind.
Shorty! She thinks she's bad, get on the floor and shake that ass.
Shorty! She thinks she's fine. Fine enough to blow your mind.
Shorty! She thinks she's bad, get on the floor and shake that ass.
Yeah,
This is for all those southern boys out there
Hehehe
Check this out!
Check this out
I see you lookin' my way
And I know that
You have something to say
Watching every inch of my body
Like you wanted to play
Boom boom boom
Boy you look so sexy
Boom boom boom
Boy you look so sexy
I begin to dance just a little bit
To turn you on
(Yeah, I got that)
I've got that boom boom
That you want
Watching me all night long
Hurry up before its gone
I've got that boom boom
That you want
I don't think you should wait
One minute might be to late
You had caught my eye
And I wanted to get to know you
Don't be shy
I want you to come closer
So what you gonna do?
So here we go
Boom boom boom
Boy you look so sexy
Boom boom boom
Boy you look so sexy
I've got that boom boom
That you want
Watching me all night long
Hurry up before its gone
I've got that boom boom
That you want
I don't think you should wait
One minute might be to late
Shorty
She think she fine

[...] Read more

song performed by Britney Spears
Added by Lucian Velea
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Universal Freedom Is......

Freedom from hunger and freedom from pain
freedom from loss and so freedom from gain.
Freedom to give and freedom to share
freedom from want and that of despair.

Freedom to think and freedom to know
freedom to achieve and freedom to grow.
Freedom from bondage and freedom of liberation
freedom from ignorance and any unknown situation.

Freedom to come and freedom to leave
freedom to stay and freedom to conceive.
Freedom from struggle and freedom of ease
freedom to enjoy and the capacity to please.

Freedom from failure and freedom of success
freedom from denial and freedom of access.
Freedom from illusion and freedom of reality
freedom to become what we are in actuality.

Freedom to live and freedom to die
freedom to laugh and freedom to cry.
Freedom to speak and freedom to listen
freedom to act based on a wise decision.

Freedom from hate and freedom of love
freedom of below and freedom of above.
Freedom of the past and freedom of the present
freedom of the future and what it can represent.

Freedom from war and freedom of peace
freedom to begin and freedom to cease.
Freedom from sickness and freedom of health
freedom from poverty and mishandled wealth.

Freedom from wrong and freedom being right
freedom of the day and freedom of the night.
Freedom to choose and freedom to reject
freedom to imagine what there is to expect.

Freedom from lust and freedom from greed
freedom from anger and freedom from breed.
Freedom from jealousy and freedom from pride
freedom from within and freedom from outside.
Freedom of always not having anything to hide.

Freedom from space and also freedom from time
freedom from attachment and freedom from crime
Freedom to work and freedom to play
freedom to believe and freedom to pray.

[...] Read more

poem by George Krokos
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The Bombardment

Slowly, without force, the rain drops into the city. It stops a moment
on the carved head of Saint John, then slides on again, slipping and trickling
over his stone cloak. It splashes from the lead conduit of a gargoyle,
and falls from it in turmoil on the stones in the Cathedral square.
Where are the people, and why does the fretted steeple sweep about in the sky?
Boom! The sound swings against the rain. Boom, again! After it, only water
rushing in the gutters, and the turmoil from the spout of the gargoyle.
Silence. Ripples and mutters. Boom!

The room is damp, but warm. Little flashes swarm about from the firelight.
The lustres of the chandelier are bright, and clusters of rubies
leap in the bohemian glasses on the `etagere'. Her hands are restless,
but the white masses of her hair are quite still. Boom! Will it never cease
to torture, this iteration! Boom! The vibration shatters a glass
on the `etagere'. It lies there, formless and glowing,
with all its crimson gleams shot out of pattern, spilled, flowing red,
blood-red. A thin bell-note pricks through the silence. A door creaks.
The old lady speaks: 'Victor, clear away that broken glass.' 'Alas!
Madame, the bohemian glass!' 'Yes, Victor, one hundred years ago
my father brought it -' Boom! The room shakes, the servitor quakes.
Another goblet shivers and breaks. Boom!

It rustles at the window-pane, the smooth, streaming rain, and he is shut
within its clash and murmur. Inside is his candle, his table, his ink,
his pen, and his dreams. He is thinking, and the walls are pierced with
beams of sunshine, slipping through young green. A fountain tosses itself
up at the blue sky, and through the spattered water in the basin he can see
copper carp, lazily floating among cold leaves. A wind-harp in a cedar-tree
grieves and whispers, and words blow into his brain, bubbled, iridescent,
shooting up like flowers of fire, higher and higher. Boom!
The flame-flowers snap on their slender stems. The fountain rears up
in long broken spears of dishevelled water and flattens into the earth. Boom!
And there is only the room, the table, the candle, and the sliding rain.
Again, Boom! - Boom! - Boom! He stuffs his fingers into his ears.
He sees corpses, and cries out in fright. Boom! It is night,
and they are shelling the city! Boom! Boom!

A child wakes and is afraid, and weeps in the darkness. What has made
the bed shake? 'Mother, where are you? I am awake.' 'Hush, my Darling,
I am here.' 'But, Mother, something so queer happened, the room shook.'
Boom! 'Oh! What is it? What is the matter?' Boom! 'Where is Father?
I am so afraid.' Boom! The child sobs and shrieks. The house
trembles and creaks. Boom!

Retorts, globes, tubes, and phials lie shattered. All his trials
oozing across the floor. The life that was his choosing, lonely, urgent,

[...] Read more

poem by Amy Lowell
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Canto the Fourth

I.

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O’er the far times when many a subject land
Looked to the wingèd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!

II.

She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.

III.

In Venice, Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone - but beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade - but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

IV.

But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city’s vanished sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away -
The keystones of the arch! though all were o’er,
For us repeopled were the solitary shore.

V.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1818)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Bom, Boom, Boom, Boom

If you're alone and you need a friend
Someone to make you forget your problems
Just come along baby
Take my hand
I'll be your lover tonight
This is what I wanna do
Let's have some fun
What I want is me and you
Boom boom boom boom
I want you in my room
Let's spend the night together
From now until forever
Boom boom boom boom
I wanna do the boom
Let's spend the night together
Together in my room
Everybody get on down
The Vengaboys are back in town
This is what I wanna do
Let's have some fun
What I want is me and you
Boom boom boom boom
I want you in my room
Let's spend the night together
From now until forever
Boom boom boom boom
I wanna do the boom
Let's spend the night together
Together in my room
Boom boom boom boom
I want you in my room
Let's spend the night together
From now until forever
Boom boom boom boom
I wanna do the boom
Let's spend the night together
Together in my room
Boom boom boom boom
I want you in my room
Let's spend the night together
From now until forever

song performed by Vengaboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Four Seasons : Summer

From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed,
Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes,
In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth:
He comes attended by the sultry Hours,
And ever fanning breezes, on his way;
While, from his ardent look, the turning Spring
Averts her blushful face; and earth, and skies,
All-smiling, to his hot dominion leaves.
Hence, let me haste into the mid-wood shade,
Where scarce a sunbeam wanders through the gloom;
And on the dark-green grass, beside the brink
Of haunted stream, that by the roots of oak
Rolls o'er the rocky channel, lie at large,
And sing the glories of the circling year.
Come, Inspiration! from thy hermit-seat,
By mortal seldom found: may Fancy dare,
From thy fix'd serious eye, and raptured glance
Shot on surrounding Heaven, to steal one look
Creative of the Poet, every power
Exalting to an ecstasy of soul.
And thou, my youthful Muse's early friend,
In whom the human graces all unite:
Pure light of mind, and tenderness of heart;
Genius, and wisdom; the gay social sense,
By decency chastised; goodness and wit,
In seldom-meeting harmony combined;
Unblemish'd honour, and an active zeal
For Britain's glory, liberty, and Man:
O Dodington! attend my rural song,
Stoop to my theme, inspirit every line,
And teach me to deserve thy just applause.
With what an awful world-revolving power
Were first the unwieldy planets launch'd along
The illimitable void! thus to remain,
Amid the flux of many thousand years,
That oft has swept the toiling race of men,
And all their labour'd monuments away,
Firm, unremitting, matchless, in their course;
To the kind-temper'd change of night and day,
And of the seasons ever stealing round,
Minutely faithful: such the All-perfect hand!
That poised, impels, and rules the steady whole.
When now no more the alternate Twins are fired,
And Cancer reddens with the solar blaze,
Short is the doubtful empire of the night;
And soon, observant of approaching day,
The meek'd-eyed Morn appears, mother of dews,
At first faint-gleaming in the dappled east:
Till far o'er ether spreads the widening glow;
And, from before the lustre of her face,

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poem by James Thomson
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The Undying One- Canto III

'THERE is a sound the autumn wind doth make
Howling and moaning, listlessly and low:
Methinks that to a heart that ought to break
All the earth's voices seem to murmur so.
The visions that crost
Our path in light--
The things that we lost
In the dim dark night--
The faces for which we vainly yearn--
The voices whose tones will not return--
That low sad wailing breeze doth bring
Borne on its swift and rushing wing.
Have ye sat alone when that wind was loud,
And the moon shone dim from the wintry cloud?
When the fire was quench'd on your lonely hearth,
And the voices were still which spoke of mirth?

If such an evening, tho' but one,
It hath been yours to spend alone--
Never,--though years may roll along
Cheer'd by the merry dance and song;
Though you mark'd not that bleak wind's sound before,
When louder perchance it used to roar--
Never shall sound of that wintry gale
Be aught to you but a voice of wail!
So o'er the careless heart and eye
The storms of the world go sweeping by;
But oh! when once we have learn'd to weep,
Well doth sorrow his stern watch keep.
Let one of our airy joys decay--
Let one of our blossoms fade away--
And all the griefs that others share
Seem ours, as well as theirs, to bear:
And the sound of wail, like that rushing wind
Shall bring all our own deep woe to mind!

'I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!

'I saw the inconstant lover come to take
Farewell of her he loved in better days,
And, coldly careless, watch the heart-strings break--
Which beat so fondly at his words of praise.
She was a faded, painted, guilt-bow'd thing,
Seeking to mock the hues of early spring,
When misery and years had done their worst

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poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Tamar

I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.

The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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The Ballad of the White Horse

DEDICATION

Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night--
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?

Where seven sunken Englands
Lie buried one by one,
Why should one idle spade, I wonder,
Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder
To smoke and choke the sun?

In cloud of clay so cast to heaven
What shape shall man discern?
These lords may light the mystery
Of mastery or victory,
And these ride high in history,
But these shall not return.

Gored on the Norman gonfalon
The Golden Dragon died:
We shall not wake with ballad strings
The good time of the smaller things,
We shall not see the holy kings
Ride down by Severn side.

Stiff, strange, and quaintly coloured
As the broidery of Bayeux
The England of that dawn remains,
And this of Alfred and the Danes
Seems like the tales a whole tribe feigns
Too English to be true.

Of a good king on an island
That ruled once on a time;
And as he walked by an apple tree
There came green devils out of the sea
With sea-plants trailing heavily
And tracks of opal slime.

Yet Alfred is no fairy tale;
His days as our days ran,
He also looked forth for an hour
On peopled plains and skies that lower,
From those few windows in the tower
That is the head of a man.

But who shall look from Alfred's hood

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poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Pharsalia - Book IX: Cato

Yet in those ashes on the Pharian shore,
In that small heap of dust, was not confined
So great a shade; but from the limbs half burnt
And narrow cell sprang forth and sought the sky
Where dwells the Thunderer. Black the space of air
Upreaching to the poles that bear on high
The constellations in their nightly round;
There 'twixt the orbit of the moon and earth
Abide those lofty spirits, half divine,
Who by their blameless lives and fire of soul
Are fit to tolerate the pure expanse
That bounds the lower ether: there shall dwell,
Where nor the monument encased in gold,
Nor richest incense, shall suffice to bring
The buried dead, in union with the spheres,
Pompeius' spirit. When with heavenly light
His soul was filled, first on the wandering stars
And fixed orbs he bent his wondering gaze;
Then saw what darkness veils our earthly day
And scorned the insults heaped upon his corse.
Next o'er Emathian plains he winged his flight,
And ruthless Caesar's standards, and the fleet
Tossed on the deep: in Brutus' blameless breast
Tarried awhile, and roused his angered soul
To reap the vengeance; last possessed the mind
Of haughty Cato.

He while yet the scales
Were poised and balanced, nor the war had given
The world its master, hating both the chiefs,
Had followed Magnus for the Senate's cause
And for his country: since Pharsalia's field
Ran red with carnage, now was all his heart
Bound to Pompeius. Rome in him received
Her guardian; a people's trembling limbs
He cherished with new hope and weapons gave
Back to the craven hands that cast them forth.
Nor yet for empire did he wage the war
Nor fearing slavery: nor in arms achieved
Aught for himself: freedom, since Magnus fell,
The aim of all his host. And lest the foe
In rapid course triumphant should collect
His scattered bands, he sought Corcyra's gulfs
Concealed, and thence in ships unnumbered bore
The fragments of the ruin wrought in Thrace.
Who in such mighty armament had thought
A routed army sailed upon the main
Thronging the sea with keels? Round Malea's cape
And Taenarus open to the shades below
And fair Cythera's isle, th' advancing fleet

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poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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