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Lift your lamp beside the golden door, Break not the golden rule, avoid well the golden calf, know; not all that glitters is gold, and laissez faire et laissez passer [let do and let pass] but as a shining sentinel, hesitate not to ring the bell, defend the gates, and man the wall

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Poetry and Song of the 2000s


OBOKURI-EE UMI by Ikue Asazaki - 2005 (Obtain Bearing) arayashikiku no dei (in search of a new land) harasaku baku no dei (let's build a new house) hare fushigyurasa nejyuku (by neatly gathering hay) surajifushiro yondo (to thatch the roof) hare fushigyurasa nejyuku (by neatly gathering hay) fushigyurasa nejyuku (neatly gathering hay) surajifusero yondo (to thatch the roof) kirishigaki ku no dei (at the stone walls) kuganeya be tatei tei (let's celebrate the golden house) hare momo tobyuru wakya (that was built) ya uriba yuwa o yondo (by a hundred carpenters) hare momo to byuru wakya (that was built) momo to byuru wakya (was built) ya uriba yuwa o yondo (by a hundred carpenters) hateigachi ya naryuri (August draws near) tobibani ya neranu (but I have nothing to wear) hare utou katabani (I want to dress up) ya karachitabore (brothers, lend me a sleeve) hitotsu aru bani ya (I want to dress the children and those I love) kanasha se ni kusuitei (with the single kimono I own) hare wanu ya okuyama (I will wear vines) nu kazuradasuki (that I picked deep within the mountains) * Note: In August, the major holiday is the Obon festival, from August 13-16. ojyuugoya no teiki ya (the full moon shines) kami gyurasa teryuri (far and wide like the gods) hare kana ga jyo ni tataba kumo tei taborei (when my lover comes to visit, I wish the clouds would hide it a little)
  

  
 
    

  
Through The Glass by Stone Sour - 2006 
 
I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
Oh God it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head

'Cause I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
All I know is that it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head

How do you feel? That is the question
But I forget you don't expect an easy answer
When something like a soul becomes initialized
And folded up like paper dolls and little notes
You can't expect a bit of folks

So while you're outside looking in
Describing what you see
Remember what you're staring at is me

'Cause I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
All I know is that it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head

How much is real? So much to question
An epidemic of the mannequins, contaminating everything
We thought came from the heart
But never did right from the start
Just listen to the noises
(Null and void instead of voices)

Before you tell yourself
It's just a different scene
Remember it's just different from what you've seen

I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
And all I know is that it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head

'Cause I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
And all I know is that it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head

And it's the stars
The stars that shine for you
And it's the stars
The stars that lie to you, yeah

And it's the stars
The stars that shine for you
And it's the stars
The stars that lie to you, yeah

I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
Oh God it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head

'Cause I'm looking at you through the glass
Don't know how much time has passed
All I know is that it feels like forever
But no one ever tells you that forever feels like home
Sitting all alone inside your head

And it's the stars
The stars that shine for you, yeah
And it's the stars
The stars that lie to you, yeah

And it's the stars
The stars that shine for you, yeah
And it's the stars
The stars that lie to you, yeah yeah

Who are the stars?
Who are the stars that lie?
                                           

  
 
                           

  
- (Excerpt) 
  
Forever Feels like home, sitting all alone inside your head
How do  you feel? That is the question
But I forget, you don't expect an easy  answer
When something like a soul becomes
Initialized and folded  up like paper dolls and little notes
You can't expect a bit of hope
So  while you're outside looking in
Describing what you see
Remember  what you're staring at is me
How much is real? So much to question
An  epidemic of the mannequins
Contaminating everything
When thought  came from the heart
It never did right from the start
Just listen  to the noises
(Null and void instead of voices)
Before you tell  yourself it's just a different scene
Remember it's just different  from what you've seen 
 

StoneSour Inspired Sketch Idea by ~Asderathos on deviantART 
 
 

The Uprising by Muse - August 4, 2009 Songwriters: Bellamy, Matthew, 
The paranoia is in bloom, the PR Transmissions will resume, they'll try to Push drugs, keep us all dumb down and hope that We will never see the truth around, so come on Another promise, another scene, another Package not to keep us trapped in greed with all the Green belts wrapped around our minds and endless Red tape to keep the truth confined, so come on They will not force us And they will stop degrading us And they will not control us We will be victorious, so come on Interchanging mind control, come let the Revolution take its toll, if you could [ From : http://www.elyrics.net/read/m/muse-lyrics/uprising-lyrics.html ] Flick a switch and open your third eye, you'd see that We should never be afraid to die, so come on Rise up and take the power back, it's time that The fat cats had a heart attack, you know that Their time is coming to an end, we have to Unify and watch our flag ascend, so come on They will not force us They will stop degrading us They will not control us We will be victorious, so come on Hey, hey, hey, hey Hey, hey, hey, hey Hey, hey, hey, hey They will not force us They will stop degrading us They will not control us We will be victorious, so come on Hey, hey, hey, hey  


The Weather Vein by Michael Savage 2009 
“I am Moses, I am Abraham. I am Isaac, I am Charlagmane. I am John Wayne, I am Coltrane. They try to suppress me, try to redress me. Call me incorrect, deserving no respect. I am Patton, I am Hatton, even Mt. Batten. I am Eisenhower, not a wallflower. I am Washington, I am Pershing. I am McCarther, I am Kipling. I am Audie Murphey and I am Sky King. They’ll steal your crown, trample you down. Take your good name, and put it to shame. I am Gene Autry, I am Roy Rodgers. I am Tom Mix. They try to push me, over the River Styx. But it won’t mix, with my true blood, which runs thick for America. I am the bane, of those vain. I am the Weather Vein! I am Michael Savage “ Copyright 2009 Michael Savage, Talk Radio Network All Rights Reserved.

Remember Independence by Rolyo - 2009 I see it with my own two eyes The reds and blues are painting purple cries Can we rewind? The times are changin' Looks pretty through a camera's eye Till the glitter fades and we see the lights The truth is spinning outta control yeah Some give you truth that's nice and sweet~ Some give truth that's Caffeine free Some give you pills that paralyze So you don't open up your eyes I don't need no thought control My tired ears are bruised and sore The only thing my eyes can see are Seven fathers on a lonely road Sharp teeth and greedy grins Knock knock, is there anybody in? Either I'm a fool or you've got no answers I press my voice against the megaphone I want the truth and I know that I'm not alone But no one is home Only cotton candy coated TVs Some give you truth that's nice and sweet~ Some give truth that's Caffeine free Some give you pills that paralyze So you don't open up your eyes I don't need no thought control My tired ears are bruised and sore The only thing my eyes can see are Seven fathers on a lonely road 


 
 

Sing by My Chemical Romance - November 3, 2010 Sing it out Boy you've got to see what tomorrow brings Sing it out Girl you've got to be what tomorrow needs For every time that they want to count you out Use your voice every single time you open up your mouth  Sing it for the boys, sing it for the girls Every time that you lose it sing it for the world Sing it from the heart Sing it till you're nuts Sing it out for the ones that'll hate your guts Sing it for the deaf Sing it for the blind Sing about everyone that you left behind Sing it for the world, sing it for the world Sing it out  Boy they're gonna sell what tomorrow means Sing it out Girl before they kill what tomorrow brings You've got to, make a choice if the music drowns you out Raise your voice every single time they try and shut your mouth  Sing it for the boys, sing it for the girls Every time that you lose it sing it for the world Sing it from the heart Sing it till you're nuts Sing it out for the ones that'll hate your guts Sing it for the deaf Sing it for the blind Sing about everyone that you left behind Sing it for the world, sing it for the world Cleaned up, corporation progress Dying in the process Children that can talk about it Living on the railways People moving sideways Sell it till your last days Buy yourself the motivation Generation nothing, Nothing but a dead scene Product of a white dream  I am not the singer that you wanted, but a dancer I refuse to answer, talk about the past, sir Wrote it for the ones that want to get away. Keep running Sing it for the boys, sing it for the girls Every time that you lose it sing it for the world  Sing it from the heart Sing it till you're nuts Singing out for the ones that'll hate your guts Sing it for the deaf Sing it for the blind Sing about everyone that you left behind Sing it for the world, sing it for the world You've got to see what tomorrow brings  Sing it for the world Sing it for the world Girl, you've got to be what tomorrow needs Sing it for the world Sing it for the world




"We Stand As One"  [another Occupy Wall Street Anthem] by Joseph Arthur
We occupy wall street Take back our soul Take back our country Take back control Take back our health care Take back our mind Take back our freedom Give up the grind We occupy wall street No more fear No more acceptance Of insanity’s sneer No more division No more restraint Our canvas is freedom Your blood is our paint we stand as one You who have robbed us You who have lied You who were greedy While the needy ones died You who believed You were better than them Who sat in the flower Ignoring the stem You who denied them Doctors and care Humanity’s basics As if death were their share You who denied The struggles of most Like a pig you consumed And like a pig you will roast we stand as one We occupy wall street The system has failed As the innocent ones Are beat down and jailed The criminal minds have stolen this land By taking our freedom And binding our hand To the cuff of misfortune To the cuff of our need To the cuff of self pity To the cuff of a seed Lost in the desert No chance to survive No love to nurture No water to thrive we stand as one A season of murder The body and soul Dreams being shattered The damnation control Give back our country We come to defend Our right to inspire To love and befriend Our right to be healthy Our right to believe In a country of equals Of a chance to receive A chance to develop A chance to forgive A chance to dignify The way that we live we stand as one A chance education A chance to secure A place for our families Our right to a cure The disease is insane The disease is just greed The disease is your pain Ignoring their need The disease is your reason Your will is unchecked But the blood is all over The lives you have wrecked But blessed are the meek For we stand as one We stand against The crimes you have done we stand as one We stand against Your desire for more Hear how we knock Soon there won’t be a door And what you won’t share Will be ripped from your hands Your body destroyed The way fire lands Burning your homes The privilege you snake The payback beyond Anything you could take Naked you’ll be And full of regret And the way they were treated You’ll long to forget we stand as one You’ll wish you could go back and undo whats been done You’ll wish you were never Insanity’s son You’ll wish you were fair You’ll wish for compassion But it will be late And long out of fashion Strung up you’ll bleed Like the pig you became A symbol of hatred And one with no name And our country will come back Belonging to us Regain it’s spirit Regain our trust we stand as one Regain it’s standing Regain the world The dream of our fathers A new and bold world Where people have chance And can live with respect And people can dance Beyond their neglect Where health is a right And education within The grasp of the poor Who may still one day win We occupy wall street So that we may begin To live in a country Of freedom again. we stand as one 

http://www.americansongwriter.com/2011/10/joseph-arthur-pens-occupy-wall-street-protest-song/ 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lWg1GVVUE2A&feature=player_embedded 

Poetry and Song of the 1900s

The Gods of the Copybook Headings by Rudyard Kipling 1919
Excerpts Used For The Overton Window by Glenn Beck

AS I PASS through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.

We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.

We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place,
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.

With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.

When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."

On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."

In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."

Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.

As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began.
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;

And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBoeHgy7svg



THE SECOND COMING by William Butler Yeats 1919
    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.
    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
    Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
    The darkness drops again but now I know
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

http://www.potw.org/archive/potw351.html


"Fragments of Olympian Gossip" by Nikola Tesla 'Novice' 1934

While listening on my cosmic phone
I caught words from the Olympus blown.
A newcomer was shown around;
That much I could guess, aided by sound.
"There's Archimedes with his lever
Still busy on problems as ever.
Says: matter and force are transmutable
And wrong the laws you thought immutable."
"Below, on Earth, they work at full blast
And news are coming in thick and fast.
The latest tells of a cosmic gun.
To be pelted is very poor fun.
We are wary with so much at stake,
Those beggars are a pest—no mistake."
"Too bad, Sir Isaac, they dimmed your renown
And turned your great science upside down.
Now a long haired crank, Einstein by name,
Puts on your high teaching all the blame.
Says: matter and force are transmutable
And wrong the laws you thought immutable."
"I am much too ignorant, my son,
For grasping schemes so finely spun.
My followers are of stronger mind
And I am content to stay behind,
Perhaps I failed, but I did my best,
These masters of mine may do the rest.
Come, Kelvin, I have finished my cup.
When is your friend Tesla coming up."
"Oh, quoth Kelvin, he is always late,
It would be useless to remonstrate."
Then silence—shuffle of soft slippered feet—
I knock and—the bedlam of the street.



You've Got To Be Carefully Taught from "South Pacific" by Rodgers and Hammerstein 1949 

You've got to be taught
To hate and fear,
You've got to be taught
From year to year,
It's got to be drummed
In your dear little ear
You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade,
You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught before it's too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate,

You've got to be carefully taught!


  

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT
by Dylan Thomas 1951

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.



THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND by Woody Guthrie 1956  
(Guthrie: Progressive Communist) 
 
This land is your land, this land is my land
From California, to the New York Island
From the redwood forest, to the gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me

As I was walking a ribbon of highway
I saw above me an endless skyway
I saw below me a golden valley
This land was made for you and me

I've roamed and rambled and I've followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
And all around me a voice was sounding
This land was made for you and me

The sun comes shining as I was strolling
The wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling
The fog was lifting a voice come chanting
This land was made for you and me

As I was walkin'  -  I saw a sign there
And that sign said - no tress passin'
But on the other side  .... it didn't say nothin!
Now that side was made for you and me!

In the squares of the city - In the shadow of the steeple
Near the relief office - I see my people
And some are grumblin' and some are wonderin'
If this land's still made for you and me
 

 
Mad World, Written by Roland Orzabal 1982

"Mad World" is a song originally performed by "Tears for Fears". 
[I liked the version by Michael Andrews 2001]
"That came when I lived above a pizza restaurant in Bath and I could look out onto the centre of 
the city. Not that Bath is very mad – I should have called it "Bourgeois World"!"
 —Roland Orzabal communist
"Lyrically the song is pretty loose. It throws together a lot of different images to paint a picture 
without saying anything specific about the world."—Roland Orzabal

All around me are familiar faces
 Worn out places, worn out faces
 Bright and early for the daily races
 Going nowhere, going nowhere.
 The tears are filling up their glasses
 No expression, no expression
 Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
 No tomorrow, no tomorrow 

 And I find it kind of funny
 I find it kind of sad
 The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
 I find it hard to tell you
 I find it hard to take
 When people run in circles its a very very
 Mad World
 Mad World

 Children waiting for the day they feel good
 Happy birthday, happy birthday
 And they feel the way that every child should
 Sit and listen, sit and listen
 Went to school and I was very nervous
 No one knew me, no one knew me
 Hello teacher tell me whats my lesson
 Look right through me, look right through me

 And I find it kind of funny
 I find it kind of sad
 The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
 I find it hard to tell you
 I find it hard to take
 When people run in circles its a very very
 Mad World
 Mad World
 Enlarge your world
 Mad World

 
Hallelujah (Leonard Cohen song) 1984

Well I heard there was a secret chord 
That David played, and it pleased the Lord 
But you don't really care for music, do ya? 
Well it goes like this 
The fourth, the fifth 
The minor fall and the major lift 
The baffled king composing Hallelujah 
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah 

Well Your faith was strong but you needed proof 
You saw her bathing on the roof 
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you 
she tied you to her kitchen chair 
And she broke your throne and she cut your hair 
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah 
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah 

Well baby I've been here before
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew ya 
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march 
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah 
Hallelujah
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah
Hallelujah 

Well there was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me do you?
And remember when I moved in you?
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah
Hallelujah 

Well maybe there's a God above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who'd OUT DREW YA
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen in the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Hallelujah
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah 
Hallelujah

Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah <<(held for a long time)
Hallelujah
 


Arguably Buckley's most famous work, this was originally written and recorded by Leonard Cohen in 1984 on his album Various Positions. It was featured in several episodes of the Fox TV show The O.C. several years after Buckley drowned in the Mississippi River. (thanks, Andrew - Toronto, Canada)
The song is about love which has soured and gone stale. Cohen used a lot of religious imagery, including references to some of the more notorious women in the bible. Here's some lyrical analysis:
"You saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you" - Bathsheba, who tempted the king to kill her husband so he could have her.
"She tied you to her kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair" - Delilah, who cut off Sampson's locks that held his superhuman strength.
"But remember when I moved in you and the holy dove was moving too" - This could be a reference to the divine conception and Mary.
The lines referring to the immaculate conception can also be interpreted as having a sexual connotation: "And every breath we drew was hallelujah."
Cohen: "Hallelujah is a Hebrew word which means 'Glory to the Lord.' The song explains that many kinds of Hallelujahs do exist. I say: All the perfect and broken Hallelujahs have an equal value. It's a desire to affirm my faith in life, not in some formal religious way but with enthusiasm, with emotion." (thanks, Roderick - Qingdao, China)
Regarding the line, "The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift," to which the chords played are: F - G - Am - F:
It is clever the way that not only the chords line up in the lyrics and in the music, but also because the connotations themselves of "major" and "minor" add to the meaning of the song. The "fourth" is a major chord based on the fourth of the key Buckley is playing in. Likewise the fifth is the major chord based on the fifth tone of the key. The "Minor Fall" corresponds to Buckley playing a minor chord based on the sixth of the key. "Major Lift" corresponds to playing the major chord on the fourth again. (thanks, Gol - Gainesville, FL)
The Bible makes reference to King David communing with the Lord and learning that certain types of music were more pleasing. The chords mentioned in the lyrics (that "David played and it pleased the lord) are often used in hymns. (thanks, Mike - Perth, Australia)
Leonard Cohen sang this to Bob Dylan after his last concert in Paris. The morning after, they sat down at a cafe and traded lyrics. Bob especially liked the last verse.
Dylan himself has performed this live, and there are bootleg versions in circulation of his version of this song. (thanks, Daniel - Nova Scotia,Canada)
Buckley started covering this after he became inspired by John Cale's version off his 1992 album Fragments Of A Rainy Season. Cale shaped his own interpretation after Cohen faxed him 15 pages of lyrics for this song. He claimed that he "went through and just picked out the cheeky verses."
Buckley always closed his live shows with this song. Remarkably, his revved-up crowds became extremely silent. (thanks, Kristy - La Porte City, IA, for above 2)

Poetry and Song of the 1800s

Defence of Fort M'Henry by Francis Scott Key 1814

O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light,
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming!
And the rockets's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there:
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, now conceals, now discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the mornings' first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner! O long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion
A home and a country should leave us no more?
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

O thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation
Then conquer we must when our cause it is just
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!



The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe 1845

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpou.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!



Come, Come, Ye Saints or All Is Well by William Clayton 1846
Clayton wrote this song after receiving word that his wife had given birth to a healthy baby boy. 
Music: From the Sacred Harp, by Jesse T. White, 1844.

Come, come, ye saints, no toil nor labor fear;
But with joy, wend your way.
Though hard to you this journey may appear,
Grace shall be as your day.
’Tis better far for us to strive
Our useless cares from us to drive;
Do this, and joy your hearts will swell
All is well! All is well!

Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard?
’Tis not so, all is right.
Why should we think to earn a great reward,
If we now shun the fight?
Gird up your loins; fresh courage take;
Our God will never us forsake,
And soon we’ll have this tale to tell,
All is well! All is well!

We’ll find the place which God for us prepared,
In His house full of light,
Where none shall come to hurt or make afraid;
There the saints will shine bright.
We’ll make the air with music ring,
Shout praises to our God and King;
Above the rest these words we’ll tell,
All is well! All is well!

And should we die before our journey’s through,
Happy day! All is well!
We then are free from toil and sorrow, too;
With the just we shall dwell!
But if our lives are spared again
To see the saints their rest obtain,
O how we’ll make this chorus swell,
All is well! All is well!

http://sabre-rattlers.bandcamp.com/track/all-is-well-come-come-ye-saints-small-ensemble-version

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o8Bkmovc8Ug



Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe 1849

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of ANNABEL LEE;--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
She was a child and I was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
I and my Annabel Lee--
With a love that the winged seraphs[1] of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud by night
Chilling my Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre[2] 
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me:--
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling
And killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we--
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in Heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:--

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre[2] there by the sea--
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.

[1] Seraphs: a type of celestial being in Judaic-Christian tradition. Literally "burning ones", the word is normally a synonym for serpents when used in the Hebrew bible, but they are mentioned in the Book of Isaiah as fiery six-winged beings attending on God. They appear again as celestial beings in an influential Hellenistic work, the Book of Enoch, and a little later in the Book of Revelation.

[2] Sepulchre: Tomb



Battle Hymn of the Republic by Julia Ward Howe 1861

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:

His truth is marching on.
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps,
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:
His day is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His day is marching on.

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on."

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Since God is marching on.

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat:
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Our God is marching on.

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
While God is marching on.

He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,
He is Wisdom to the mighty, He is Succour to the brave,
So the world shall be His footstool, and the soul of Time His slave,
Our God is marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Our God is marching on.





The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus 1883 [Wikipedia]

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

[The Poems of Emma Lazarus - Google Books]



Arithmetic on the Frontier by Rudyard Kipling 1886  
[Wikisource]

A great and glorious thing it is
  To learn, for seven years or so,
The Lord knows what of that and this,
  Ere reckoned fit to face the foe --
The flying bullet down the Pass,
That whistles clear: "All flesh is grass."

Three hundred pounds per annum spent
  On making brain and body meeter
For all the murderous intent
  Comprised in "villanous saltpetre!"
And after -- ask the Yusufzaies
What comes of all our 'ologies.

A scrimmage in a Border Station --
  A canter down some dark defile --
Two thousand pounds of education
  Drops to a ten-rupee jezail --
The Crammer's boast, the Squadron's pride,
Shot like a rabbit in a ride!

No proposition Euclid wrote,
  No formulae the text-books know,
Will turn the bullet from your coat,
  Or ward the tulwar's downward blow
Strike hard who cares -- shoot straight who can --
The odds are on the cheaper man.

One sword-knot stolen from the camp
  Will pay for all the school expenses
Of any Kurrum Valley scamp
  Who knows no word of moods and tenses,
But, being blessed with perfect sight,
Picks off our messmates left and right.

With home-bred hordes the hillsides teem,
  The troopships bring us one by one,
At vast expense of time and steam,
  To slay Afridis where they run.
The "captives of our bow and spear"
Are cheap, alas! as we are dear.



If by Rudyard Kipling 1895

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream -- and not make dreams your master;
If you can think -- and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings -- nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run --
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And -- which is more -- you'll be a Man, my son!



The White Man's Burden by Rudyard Kipling 1899 
[Wikisource]

Take up the White Man's burden--
Send forth the best ye breed--
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness,
On fluttered folk and wild--
Your new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half-devil and half-child.

Take up the White Man's burden--
In patience to abide,
To veil the threat of terror
And check the show of pride;
By open speech and simple,
An hundred times made plain
To seek another's profit,
And work another's gain.

Take up the White Man's burden--
The savage wars of peace--
Fill full the mouth of Famine
And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
The end for others sought,
Watch sloth and heathen Folly
Bring all your hopes to nought.

Take up the White Man's burden--
No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper--
The tale of common things.
The ports ye shall not enter,
The roads ye shall not tread,
Go mark them with your living,
And mark them with your dead.

Take up the White Man's burden--
And reap his old reward:
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard--
The cry of hosts ye humour
(Ah, slowly!) toward the light:--
"Why brought he us from bondage,
Our loved Egyptian night?"

Take up the White Man's burden--
Ye dare not stoop to less--
Nor call too loud on Freedom
To cloke your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent, sullen peoples
Shall weigh your gods and you.

Take up the White Man's burden--
Have done with childish days--
The lightly proferred laurel,
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years
Cold, edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgment of your peers!

Although Kipling's poem mixed exhortation to empire with sober warnings of the costs involved, imperialists within the United States (such as Teddy Roosevelt) latched onto the phrase "white man's burden" as a characterization for imperialism that justified the policy as a noble enterprise.

Much of Kipling's other writings suggest he genuinely believed in the beneficent role which the introduction of Western ideas play in lifting non-Western peoples out of poverty and ignorance.

Interpreting the poem from The philanthropic view, of Imperialism (common in Kipling's formative years), The rich have a moral duty and obligation to help the poor or less fortunate better themselves.

However; modernly, the common Interpreting narrative has become a shallow one of Racism and Tyrannical Greed. [Anyone who thinks this satire to be classically racist or explicitely pro-"Imperialism" is a blithering idiot]


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