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tripps
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Posted -
11/05/2009
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21:32
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| | | | Why spend your leisure bereft of pleasure A massing treasure why scrape and save? Why look so canny at ev'ry penny? You'll take no money within the grave Landlords and gentry with all their plenty Must still go empty where e'er they're bound So to my thinking we'd best be drinking Our glasses clinking and round and round
King Solomon's glory, so famed in story Was far outshone by the lillies guise But hard winds harden both field and garden Pleading for pardon, the lily dies Life's but a bauble of toil and trouble The feathered arrow, once shot ne'er found So, lads and lasses, because life passes Come fill your glasses for another round
The huckster greedy, he blinds the needy Their strifes unheeding, shouts "Money down!" This special vices, his fancy prices For a florin value he'll charge a crown With hump for tramel, the scripture's chamel Missed the needle's eye and so came to ground Why pine for riches, while still you've stitches To hold your britches up? Another round! |
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Gloria
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Posted - 11/05/2009 : 21:49
| I like this one. | | Walter de la MareThe Listeners‘IS there anybody there?’ said the Traveller, Knocking on the moonlit door; And his horse in the silence champ’d the grasses Of the forest’s ferny floor: And a bird flew up out of the turret, Above the Traveller’s head: And he smote upon the door again a second time; ‘Is there anybody there?’ he said. But no one descended to the Traveller; No head from the leaf-fringed sill Lean’d over and look’d into his grey eyes, Where he stood perplex’d and still. But only a host of phantom listeners That dwelt in the lone house then Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight To that voice from the world of men: Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair, That goes down to the empty hall, Hearkening in an air stirr’d and shaken By the lonely Traveller’s call. And he felt in his heart their strangeness, Their stillness answering his cry, While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf, ’Neath the starr’d and leafy sky; For he suddenly smote on the door, even Louder, and lifted his head:— ’Tell them I came, and no one answer’d, ’That I kept my word,’ he said. Never the least stir made the listeners, Though every word he spake Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house From the one man left awake: Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup, And the sound of iron on stone, And how the silence surged softly backward, When the plunging hoofs were gone.
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Edited by - Gloria on 11/05/2009 9:51:23 PM
I'd be dangerous with a brain!!!!! www.briercliffesociety.co.uk |
tripps
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Posted - 11/05/2009 : 22:38
I really like that one too. Quite a mystery isn't it, and very atmospheric. Who are the listeners, and why did the traveller have to call? Anyone know?
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Stanley
Local Historian & Old Fart
36804 Posts
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Posted - 12/05/2009 : 07:31
I found tis....Comments on "The Listeners"
Thank you for this wonderful opportunity to share the significance of a truly great poem.
This is a magical poem that moves me profoundly each time I read it. Indeed, I have been inspired many times to the challenge of using my own words to paint the vivid and lush atmosphere that The Listeners evokes in me. It is a clear commentary on the struggle for us all to "be heard" and to understand our role in Life. For me, this poem leaves me numbed with each reading, and a little off balance from the powerful imagery and real emotion that it nurtures. This is a classic work!
Regards Andrew Like all good oetry it invites you to make your own associations. Good stuff.
Stanley Challenger Graham
Barlick View stanley at barnoldswick.freeserve.co.uk |
Gloria
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Posted - 12/05/2009 : 08:20
The one and only time I ever played wag from school, I got found out and had to learn "The Listeners". It has stuck in my mind ever since, I find it very thoughtful, possibly that was the reacton my headmaster wanted. Sad thing, I had to go back to recite it to him the day after and he wasn't there, so never got to do it.
I'd be dangerous with a brain!!!!! www.briercliffesociety.co.uk |
tripps
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Posted - 12/05/2009 : 08:27
"and he wasn't there"
I hope you cried out "’Tell them I came, and no one answer’d"
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belle
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Posted - 12/05/2009 : 09:05
what a shame we are only having poetry week, it should be a whole year...now which is my all time favourite, there are so many... start at the begining: Sonnet cxvi Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impedements. Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds or bends with the remover to remove: O no it is an ever fix-ed mark which looks on tempests and is never shaken the star to every wandring bark whose worths unknown although his height be taken. Loves not times fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks but bear it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved I never writ nor, no man ever loved. W. shakespear
Good old Will, the very essence of love distilled and a little joke at himself at the end.
Life is what you make it |
Stanley
Local Historian & Old Fart
36804 Posts
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Posted - 12/05/2009 : 10:16
Tripps. Brilliant reply!
Stanley Challenger Graham
Barlick View stanley at barnoldswick.freeserve.co.uk |
Gloria
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Posted - 12/05/2009 : 13:03
Brilliant Tripps. I had to go to his study for 12o'clock and he wasn' t there, his secretary said he would send for me---I am still waiting.
I'd be dangerous with a brain!!!!! www.briercliffesociety.co.uk |
Stanley
Local Historian & Old Fart
36804 Posts
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Posted - 13/05/2009 : 06:58
Gloria, you need to consult that part of common law regarding transport which deals with the concept of 'demurrage'. Under this law the waitee is allowed to claim compensation for the time lost in waiting. Reckon it up at the average industrial wage and put a claim in!
Stanley Challenger Graham
Barlick View stanley at barnoldswick.freeserve.co.uk |