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Plenty

There's a horn of plenty,
plenty to go around.
But where he comes from
there's not much to be found.
He thinks about the plenty.
He wonders where they are?
When he stops his wonderin'
he knows they are too far,
too far away.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Santa-Fe Trail (A Humoresque)

I asked the old Negro, "What is that bird that sings so well?" He answered: "That is the Rachel-Jane." "Hasn't it another name, lark, or thrush, or the like?" "No. Jus' Rachel-Jane."

I. IN WHICH A RACING AUTO COMES FROM THE EAST

This is the order of the music of the morning: —
First, from the far East comes but a crooning.
The crooning turns to a sunrise singing.
Hark to the calm -horn, balm -horn, psalm -horn.
Hark to the faint -horn, quaint -horn, saint -horn. . . .

Hark to the pace -horn, chase -horn, race -horn.
And the holy veil of the dawn has gone.
Swiftly the brazen ear comes on.
It burns in the East as the sunrise burns.
I see great flashes where the far trail turns.

Its eyes are lamps like the eyes of dragons.
It drinks gasoline from big red flagons.
Butting through the delicate mists of the morning,
It comes like lightning, goes past roaring.
It will hail all the wind-mills, taunting, ringing,
Dodge the cyclones,
Count the milestones,
On through the ranges the prairie-dog tills—
Scooting past the cattle on the thousand hills. . . .
Ho for the tear-horn, scare-horn, dare-horn,
Ho for the gay -horn, bark -horn, bay -horn.
Ho for Kansas, land that restores us
When houses choke us, and great books bore us!
Sunrise Kansas, harvester's Kansas,
A million men have found you before us.

II. IN WHICH MANY AUTOS PASS WESTWARD

I want live things in their pride to remain.
I will not kill one grasshopper vain
Though he eats a hole in my shirt like a door.
I let him out, give him one chance more.
Perhaps, while he gnaws my hat in his whim,
Grasshopper lyrics occur to him.

I am a tramp by the long trail's border,
Given to squalor, rags and disorder.
I nap and amble and yawn and look,
Write fool-thoughts in my grubby book,
Recite to the children, explore at my ease,
Work when I work, beg when I please,
Give crank-drawings, that make folks stare

[...] Read more

poem by Vachel Lindsay
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The Rock Stops Here

(eric carmen/fred carmen)
(recorded by eric carmen)
Cool 101 / 1986
A dj in cleveland brought some bands to town
When the music got started
They tore the house down
People said everybody just went out of control
Alan freed grabbed a mike and called it rock and roll
They started bandstand in philly back in 55
And elvis rock-a-billy brought memphis alive
L.a. gave us surfers and detroits got soul
But theres only one home of rock and roll
And kids a hundred thousand strong
Burned the phone lines all night long
To send a message loud and clear
In the u.s.a., I said, the rock stops here
The rock stops here
Little richard brought miss molly
The rock stops here
Peggy sues with buddy holly
The rock stops here
Everybodys gettin down
The rock stops here
Oww! here comes the great james brown
The rock stops here
Chuck berrys with maybelline
The rock stops here
Jerry lees pianos screamin
The rock stops here
Elvis singin blue suede shoes
I need a shot of rock-a-billy
With my rhythm and blues
They looked from new york to l.a. to find the spot
Every city in the nation took their very best shot
When the dust all settled, one city stood tall
And they knew who deserved the rock and roll hall
So to prove the facts they already knew
They took a nationwide poll
That made the front page news
When the votes were counted, the results all showed
In cleveland, we eat, sleep and drink rock and roll
Kids a hundred thousand strong
Shouted, put the hall where it belongs
Now heres the message loud and clear
In the u.s.a., you know the rock stops here
I said the rock stops here
Cathys clowns with don and phil
The rock stops here
Fats is up on blueberry hill
The rock stops here

[...] Read more

song performed by Eric Carmen
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Wonderin

Ive been walking all night long
My footsteps made me crazy
Baby, youve been gone so long
Im wonderin if youll come home
Im hopin that youll be my baby
Im wonderin if Ill be alone
Knowin that I need you to save me.
Ive been talking all day long
To keep my heart from sadness
Baby, youve been gone so long
Im wonderin if youll come home
Im hopin that youll be my baby
Im wonderin if Ill be alone
Knowin that I need you to save me.
Im wonderin, Im wonderin,
Im wonderin, Im wonderin,
Im wonderin, Im wonderin,
Im wonderin, Im wonderin.
Well, Im knowin that I need you to save me
Knowin that I need you to save me.
Knowin that I need you to save me.
Knowin that I need you to save me.
Im wonderin, Im wonderin.

song performed by Neil Young
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Great Conductors

Hans Richter Parsifal did not conduct,
and to the National Gallery he never paid
a visit, but he showed Franz Strauss who never sucked
just how the horn in Meistersinger should be played.

Franz Strauss refused to play a second time
for Hans von Bülow Meistersinger’s second act;
Hans begged his pardon when Franz told him: “I’m
retiring, since you for the hornist show no tact.”

There is an incident reported about the premiere of Die Meistersinger von Nuremberg. The first version: during a rehearsal Strauss complained about the terrible demanding horn part, but Hans Richter, Wagner's secretary & former first horn at the Viennese Kaerntnerthor Theatre (Beethoven's Sonata op.17 had been premiered there; forerunner theatre of the Imperial Opera House) , was present & asked Strauss to lend him his horn & played the passage from the endings of the second act flawless, but giving the horn back with the comment With your B-flat-horn you will have difficulties always; the F-horn sounds much better.
I do not believe this anecdote to be true. Even an already warmed up horn player of excellent qualities might have difficulties with the Pruegelszene How can a conducter to be (Richter became the first world famous conductor; he led the first Ring in Bayreuth 1876) , who had not played his horn for a while, play this passage flawless without any warm-up. A myth only! Richter used this complain about B-flat horn also, when he conducted in Bayreuth. He recommended the use of the single F horn always. No wonder. He came from Vienna.
The second incident happened after the end of the dress rehearsal of Mastersingers. Hans von Bülow wanted to repeat the ending of the 2nd Act again, but Strauss refused to do so, telling von Bülow that he could not do it again, as being exhausted already. If you cant do it again, so you must better ask for retirement! , replied von Buelow to Strauss. But Strauss left the pit and asked the opera's administration for immediate retirement. So Hans von Bülow had to come to Strauss house at the Pschorr Estate, ask for pardon, which was granted, - so the premiere of Mastersingers was saved.
There is an incident reported about the premiere of Die Meistersinger von Nuremberg. The first version: during a rehearsal Strauss complained about the terrible demanding horn part, but Hans Richter, Wagner's secretary & former first horn at the Viennese Kaerntnerthor Theatre (Beethoven's Sonata op.17 had been premiered there; forerunner theatre of the Imperial Opera House) , was present & asked Strauss to lend him his horn & played the passage from the endings of the second act flawless, but giving the horn back with the comment With your B-flat-horn you will have difficulties always; the F-horn sounds much better.
I do not believe this anecdote to be true. Even an already warmed up horn player of excellent qualities might have difficulties with the Pruegelszene. How can a conductor to be (Richter became the first world famous conductor; he led the first Ring in Bayreuth 1876) , who had not played his horn for a while, play this passage flawless without any warm-up. A myth only! Richter used this complain about B-flat horn also, when he conducted in Bayreuth. He recommended the use of the single F horn always. No wonder. He came from Vienna.
The second incident happened after the end of the dress rehearsal of Mastersinger. Hans von Bülow wanted to repeat the ending of the 2nd Act again, but Strauss refused to do so, telling von Bülow that he could not do it again, as being exhausted already. If you can’t do it again you had better ask for retiremen! replied von Bülow to Strauss. But Strauss left the pit and asked the opera's administration for immediate retirement. So Hans von Bülow had to come to Strauss house at the Pschorr Estate, ask for pardon, which was granted, - so the premiere of Mastersingers was saved.

8/25/08

poem by Gershon Hepner
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Everybody Knows

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows that the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
Thats how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows that the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died
Everybody talking to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates
And a long stem rose
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that youve been faithful
Ah give or take a night or two
Everybody knows youve been discreet
But there were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows
Everybody knows, everybody knows
Thats how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows, everybody knows
Thats how it goes
Everybody knows
And everybody knows that its now or never
Everybody knows that its me or you
And everybody knows that you live forever
Ah when youve done a line or two
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old black joes still pickin cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows
And everybody knows that the plague is coming
Everybody knows that its moving fast
Everybody knows that the naked man and woman
Are just a shining artifact of the past
Everybody knows the scene is dead
But theres gonna be a meter on your bed
That will disclose
What everybody knows
And everybody knows that youre in trouble
Everybody knows what youve been through
From the bloody cross on top of calvary
To the beach of malibu

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song performed by Leonard Cohen
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Everybody Know

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows that the war is over
Everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor, the rich get rich
That's how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows that the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
Like their father or their dog just died
Everybody talking to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates
And a long stem rose
Everybody knows
Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that you've been faithful
Ah give or take a night or two
Everybody knows you've been discreet
But there were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows
Everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows
Everybody knows, everybody knows
That's how it goes
Everybody knows
And everybody knows that it's now or never
Everybody knows that it's me or you
And everybody knows that you live forever
Ah when you've done a line or two
Everybody knows the deal is rotten
Old Black Joe's still pickin' cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows
And everybody knows that the Plague is coming
Everybody knows that it's moving fast
Everybody knows that the naked man and woman
Are just a shining artifact of the past
Everybody knows the scene is dead
But there's gonna be a meter on your bed
That will disclose
What everybody knows
And everybody knows that you're in trouble
Everybody knows what you've been through
From the bloody cross on top of Calvary
To the beach of Malibu

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song performed by Leonard Cohen
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My Heart Stops

(diane warren)
(recorded by eric carmen)
Arista as1-2264 / 1992
I tell myself
This cant be love
That Im feelin
But if I think that my world
Will be the way that it was
Im dreamin
Why do I feel so high
At the mention of your name
Why do I act so shy
Cant explain, cant explain, cant explain
But darlin
Wo-wo-wo when you go walkin by
My heart stops
My heart stops
I cant explain it
Wo-wo-wo when you look in my eye
My heart stops
My heart stops
Every time youre near
Just thinkin about you
Darlin it just does
Something to me
And when we meet on the street
I feel the flame of love
Burnin through me
I try to play it cool
And never show a sign
But I give myself away
Every time, every time, every time
cause darlin
Wo-wo-wo when you go walkin by
My heart stops
My heart stops
I cant explain it
Wo-wo-wo when you look in my eye
My heart stops
My heart stops
Every time youre near
My heart stops, my heart stops
My heart stops, my heart stops
Oh, whenever youre close to me
Theres a wave of love rushin over me
And I never felt this way
Cant explain, cant explain, cant explain
But darlin
My darlin
Wo-wo-wo when you go walkin by

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song performed by Eric Carmen
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The Hunter’s Song

RISE! Sleep no more! ’T is a noble morn:
The dews hang thick on the fringed thorn,
And the frost shrinks back, like a beaten hound,
Under the steaming, steaming ground.
Behold, where the billowy clouds flow by,
And leave us alone in the clear gray sky!
Our horses are ready and steady.—So, ho!
I ’m gone, like a dart from the Tartar’s bow.
Hark, hark!—Who calleth the maiden Morn
From her sleep in the woods and the stubble corn?
The horn,—the horn!
The merry, sweet ring of the hunter’s horn.

Now, thorough the copse, where the fox is found,
And over the stream, at a mighty bound,
And over the high lands, and over the low,
O’er furrows, o’er meadows, the hunters go!
Away!—as a hawk flies full at its prey,
So flieth the hunter, away,—away!
From the burst at the cover till set of sun,
When the red fox dies, and—the day is done!
Hark, hark!—What sound on the wind is borne?
’T is the conquering voice of the hunter’s horn.
The horn,—the horn!
The merry, bold voice of the hunter’s horn.

Sound! Sound the horn! To the hunter good
What ’s the gulley deep or the roaring flood?
Right over he bounds, as the wild stag bounds,
At the heels of his swift, sure, silent hounds.
O, what delight can a mortal lack,
When he once is firm on his horse’s back,
With his stirrups short, and his snaffle strong,
And the blast of the horn for his morning song?
Hark, hark!—Now, home! and dream till morn
Of the bold, sweet sound of the hunter’s horn!
The horn,—the horn!
O, the sound of all sounds is the hunter’s horn!

poem by Barry Cornwall
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The Wild Huntsman

The Wildgrave winds his bugle-horn,
To horse, to horse! halloo, halloo!
His fiery courser snuffs the morn,
And thronging serfs their lord pursue.

The eager pack, from couples freed,
Dash through the bush, the brier, the brake;
While answering hound, and horn, and steed,
The mountain echoes startling wake.

The beams of God's own hallow'd day
Had painted yonder spire with gold,
And, called sinful man to pray,
Loud, long, and deep the bell had toll'd:

But still the Wildgrave onward rides;
Halloo, halloo! and, hark again!
When, spurring from opposing sides,
Two Stranger Horsemen join the train.

Who was each Stranger, left and right,
Well may I guess, but dare not tell;
The right-hand steed was silver white,
The left, the swarthy hue of hell.

The right-hand Horseman, young and fair,
His smile was like the morn of May;
The left, from eye of tawny glare,
Shot midnight lightning's lurid ray.

He waved his huntsman's cap on high,
Cried, 'Welcome, welcome, noble lord!
What sport can earth, or sea, or sky,
To match the princely chase, afford?'-

'Cease thy loud bugle's changing knell,'
Cried the fair youth, with silver voice;
'And for devotion's choral swell,
Exchange the rude unhallow'd noise.

'To-day, the ill-omen'd chase forbear,
Yon bell yet summons to the fane;
To-day the Warning Spirit hear,
To-morrow thou mayst mourn in vain.'-

'Away, and sweep the glades along!'
The Sable Hunter hoarse replies;
'To muttering monks leave matin-song
And bells, and books, and mysteries.'

[...] Read more

poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Baby Knows

{co-lead vocal by sheryl crow}
Baby knows
Baby knows
Baby knows, huh
Baby knows
(baby knows) - this funky joint in the city
(baby knows) - where the freaks come out 2 play
(baby knows) - venezuelan, black and pretty
(baby knows) - the kind that make u wanna pay, yeah
Chorus:
(baby knows) - she got the long dark legs
(baby knows) - she got the butt that go round
(baby knows) - this kind of poochie make u beg
(baby knows) - turn a dog into a hound
(baby knows) - she tell me what I wanna hear
(baby knows) - she stroke me up and never down
(baby knows) - whispering sexiness in my ear
(baby knows) - Im just a junkie 4 the sound
(baby knows) - she make u call your boys
(baby knows) - in a pow-wow 2 scope a plan
(baby knows) - how 2 ditch her man in a trunk of a lexus
A perplexing hex this witch has flexed
Chorus
Oh, baby - oh, baby
Baby
(baby knows) - she knows how 2 make u feel
(baby knows) - like your stuff aint brown tonite
(baby knows) - and her perfume... it smells like the weekend
(baby knows) - this funky joint way down in the city
(baby knows) - where the girls sing along 2 the hip-hop all nite long
(baby knows) - white girls, black girls, latinas - oh so pretty
(baby knows) - wont make me give u this ring, baby
Oh, oh, oh
Chorus
Ough, ough
Yeah (baby, baby)
Baby knows
Yeah-yeah (baby, baby)
Baby knows
She got the long dark legs - (baby knows)
She got the butt that go round (round and round)
This kind of poochie make u beg - (baby knows)
Give me your number and I call u
No, u do just turn me down

song performed by Prince
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Intergalactic Circus Of Wonders

Coming to you from beyond the stars
Coming direct from venus and mars
The intergalactic show in the stars
Step right up
One and all
To the biggest show of all
The intergalactic circus of wonders
Step right up
Come on in
Theres a show thats about to begin
The intergalactic circus of wonders
From the deepest parts of space
Well traversed from place to place
The most fantastic
Supergalactic show
Light the lights and sound the horn
Theres a show thats just been born
The most spine tingling
Better than ringling show
Tripos up
Man is out
Give and cheer and give a shout
The intergalactic circus of wonders
Welcome boys and come on girls
To the show those crazy worlds
The intergalactic circus of wonders
From the deepest parts of space
Well traversed from place to place
The most fantastic
Supergalatic show
Light the lights and sound the horn
Theres a show thats just been born
The most spine tingling
Better than a ringling show.
Intergalactic, intergalactic, intergalactic - ooh
Intergalactic, intergalactic, intergalactic circus of wonders
Step right up
One and all
To the biggest show of all
The intergalactic circus of wonders
The intergalactic circus of wonders
The intergalactic circus of wonders
Circus of wonders
One more time
Circus of wonders
Circus of wonders
Hurry hurry
Dont want to miss it
Hurry hurry
Dont want to miss it

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song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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Everybody Knows

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded
Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed
Everybody knows the war is over
And everybody knows the good guys lost
Everybody knows the fight was fixed
The poor stay poor and the rich get rich
Thats how it goes
And everybody knows
Everybody knows that the boat is leaking
Everybody knows the captain lied
Everybody got this broken feeling
That their father or their dog just died
Everybody talkin to their pockets
Everybody wants a box of chocolates
And a long stem rose
And everybody knows
( chorus )
Everybody knows, everybody knows
Thats how it goes, and everybody
Everybody knows that you love me baby
Everybody knows that you really do
Everybody knows that youve been faithful
Give or take a night or two
Everbody knows that youve been discret
There were so many people you just had to meet
Without your clothes
And everybody knows
Everybody knows that its now or never
Everybody knows that its me or you
Everybody knows that you live forever
When youve done a line or two
And everybody knows that the deal is rotten
Old black joes still pickin cotton
For your ribbons and bows
And everybody knows
( chorus x2 )
Everbody knows that the plaque is comin
Everybody knows that its movin fast
Everybody knows that the naked man and woman
Are just a shining artifact of the past
Everybody knows that the scene is dead,
But theres gonna be a meter on your bed
That will disclose,
What everybody knows
Everybody knows that youre in trouble
Everybody knows what youve been through
From the bloody cross on top of calvary
To the beach at malibu
And everybody knows its coming apart
Take one last look at this sacred heart

[...] Read more

song performed by Don Henley
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Standing On The Highway

by Bob Dylan
Well, I'm standin' on the highway
Tryin' to bum a ride, tryin' to bum a ride,
Tryin' to bum a ride.
Well, I'm standin' on the highway
Tryin' to bum a ride, tryin' to bum a ride,
Tryin' to bum a ride.
Nobody seem to know me,
Everybody pass me by.
Well, I'm standin' on the highway
Tryin' to hold up, tryin' to hold up,
Tryin to hold up and be brave.
Well, I'm standin' on the highway
Tryin' to hold up, tryin to hold up and be brave.
One roads goin' to the bright lights,
The others goin' down to my grave.
Well, I'm lookin' down at two card,
They seem to be handmade.
Well, I'm lookin' down at two card,
They seem to be handmade.
One looks like it's the ace of diamonds,
The other looks like it is the ace of spades.
Well, I'm standin' on the highway
Watchin' my life roll by.
Well, I'm standin' on the highway
Watchin' my life roll by.
Well, I'm standin' on the highway
Tryin' to bum a ride.
Well, I'm standin' on the highway
Wonderin' where everybody went, wonderin' where everybody went,
Wonderin' where everybody went.
Well, I'm standin' on the highway
Wonderin' where everybody went, wonderin' where everybody went,
Wonderin' where everybody went.
Please mister, pick me up,
I swear I ain't gonna kill nobody's kids.
I wonder if my good gal,
I wonder if she knows I'm here,
Nobody else seems to know I'm here.
I wonder if my good gal,
I wonder if she knows I'm here,
Nobody else seems to know I'm here.
If she knows I'm here, Lawd,
I wonder if she said a prayer.

song performed by Bob Dylan
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The Journey (feat. Lateef)

That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days.
I can't stay home, I gotta keep movin,
I gotta keep doin', I gotta get out,
I gotta roam, it's somethin' that moves me,
It's somethin' that uses me without a doubt,
'cause somewhere abstract coincidence happens,
see someone in passin' while out and about,
next thing I know I'm happily travelin',
puttin' in action ideas that I mouth,
cause I speak it and do it, talk it and walk it,
I'm so bad about it, I shout it out loud,
but try to stay open, the forces in motion,
They keep me on course, it's just clear that i've found (?),
Imprissoned in flesh and reality's blesses,
that made manifest every woman and child,
I'll keep on expressin' reality's lessons,
explorin' my prison until I'm let out.
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
have me wonderin' all my days.
Travelin' East and West, on every known highway,
South to North carryin' that torch until I'm old and grey.
Well in the mean time inbetween I'm pushin' through this,
I said in the main time inbetween I'm on my duty.
Sometimes I get beat up, sometimes I'm the beater,
Sometimes man my feet hurt from walkin' so long,
Sometimes I'm defeated, sometimes I get cheated,
Sometimes I just need it, 'cause sometimes I'm wrong,
So the question's repeated, why even try?
When there's rocks in the road, pot-holes in the lawn,
The victory's sweeter when obstacles either,
Are side-stepped or crushed on the way to the door,
So I go on my own, have faith in the road,
I can share that control cause I'm never alone.
I hear the creator speak to me through wispers,
On winds the voices of friends and of foes,
I listen to omens, the things that he shows me,
Shows that he knows me and helps me along,

[...] Read more

song performed by Fatboy Slim
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Ghosts Of Cape Horn

All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Some who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
See them all in sad repair
Demons dance everywhere
Southern gales, tattered sails
And none to tell the tales
Come all of you rustic old sea dogs
Who follow the great southern cross
You were rounding the horn
In the eye of a storm
When ya lost er one day
And you read all yer letters
From oceans away
Then you took them to the bottom of the sea
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Those who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Come all you old sea dogs from devon
Southampton, penzance, and kinsale
You were caught by the chance
Of a sailors last dance
It was not meant to be
And ya read all yer letters
Cried anchor aweigh
Then ya took them to the bottom of the sea
All around old cape horn
Ships of the line, ships of the morn
Those who wish theyd never been born
They are the ghosts of cape horn
Fal deral da riddle de rum
With a rim dim diddy
And a rum dum dum
Sailing away at the break of morn
They are the ghosts of cape horn

song performed by Gordon Lightfoot
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The Gaberlunzie's Walk

The Laird is dead, the laird is dead,
An' dead is cousin John,
His henchmen ten, an' his sax merrie men,
Forbye the steward's son.

An' his ain guid gray that he strode sae gay
When hunt was up an' on,
An' the win' blew fair, an' the grews pu'd sair,
An' dawn was on Maol-don,
An' the skeigh steeds neigh'd, an' the slot-hounds bay'd,
An' up gaed the mornin' sun,
An' awa' gaed the deer wi' the merrie men's cheer,
Awa' owre the auld Maol-don,
An' awa' wi' a shout ran the rabble an' the rout,
An' awa' rode cousin John,
Wi' his horn, his horn, thro' the merry merry morn,
His hunter's horn sae shrill!
An' 't was 'Ho, heigho, hereawa',
Hereawa', hereawa'!
Ho, heigho, hereawa'!'
A' roun' the hill!

Walie! walie! they're a' gane dead,
A' owre the seas an' awa'
The laird an' his men, the sax an' the ten,
They gaed to fight and to fa'.
An' walie, an' wae, an' hech! the weary day!
The laird is dead an' a'!

A' in ae grave by the margent o' the wave
Thegither they lay doun,
Sax feet deep, where dead men sleep,
A' i' the faeman's grun'.

Foremost i' the van, wi' his bagpipes i' his han',
The steward's ae braw son,
An' next the young laird-gin the guid Lord had spared!-
A' as he led them on,
Wi' his bonnie brow bare an' his lang fair hair,
An' his bluidy braid-sword drawn;
An' hard by his chief, that in life was sae lief,
In death cam cousin John,
Wi' his horn, his horn, thro' the merry merry morn,
His hunter's horn sae shrill
When 't was 'Ho, heigho, hereawa',
Hereawa', hereawa'!'

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poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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The Four Seasons : Autumn

Crown'd with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf,
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Comes jovial on; the Doric reed once more,
Well pleased, I tune. Whate'er the wintry frost
Nitrous prepared; the various blossom'd Spring
Put in white promise forth; and Summer-suns
Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view,
Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme.
Onslow! the Muse, ambitious of thy name,
To grace, inspire, and dignify her song,
Would from the public voice thy gentle ear
A while engage. Thy noble cares she knows,
The patriot virtues that distend thy thought,
Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow;
While listening senates hang upon thy tongue,
Devolving through the maze of eloquence
A roll of periods, sweeter than her song.
But she too pants for public virtue, she,
Though weak of power, yet strong in ardent will,
Whene'er her country rushes on her heart,
Assumes a bolder note, and fondly tries
To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame.
When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days,
And Libra weighs in equal scales the year;
From Heaven's high cope the fierce effulgence shook
Of parting Summer, a serener blue,
With golden light enliven'd, wide invests
The happy world. Attemper'd suns arise,
Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft through lucid clouds
A pleasing calm; while broad, and brown, below
Extensive harvests hang the heavy head.
Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a gale
Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain:
A calm of plenty! till the ruffled air
Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow.
Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky;
The clouds fly different; and the sudden sun
By fits effulgent gilds the illumined field,
And black by fits the shadows sweep along.
A gaily chequer'd heart-expanding view,
Far as the circling eye can shoot around,
Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn.
These are thy blessings, Industry! rough power!
Whom labour still attends, and sweat, and pain;
Yet the kind source of every gentle art,
And all the soft civility of life:
Raiser of human kind! by Nature cast,
Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods
And wilds, to rude inclement elements;
With various seeds of art deep in the mind

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poem by James Thomson
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The Horn Of Egremont Castle

ERE the Brothers through the gateway
Issued forth with old and young,
To the Horn Sir Eustace pointed
Which for ages there had hung.
Horn it was which none could sound,
No one upon living ground,
Save He who came as rightful Heir
To Egremont's Domains and Castle fair.

Heirs from times of earliest record
Had the House of Lucie born,
Who of right had held the Lordship
Claimed by proof upon the Horn:
Each at the appointed hour
Tried the Horn,--it owned his power;
He was acknowledged: and the blast,
Which good Sir Eustace sounded, was the last.

With his lance Sir Eustace pointed,
And to Hubert thus said he,
'What I speak this Horn shall witness
For thy better memory.
Hear, then, and neglect me not!
At this time, and on this spot,
The words are uttered from my heart,
As my last earnest prayer ere we depart.

'On good service we are going
Life to risk by sea and land,
In which course if Christ our Saviour
Do my sinful soul demand,
Hither come thou back straightway,
Hubert, if alive that day;
Return, and sound the Horn, that we
May have a living House still left in thee!'

'Fear not,' quickly answered Hubert;
'As I am thy Father's son,
What thou askest, noble Brother,
With God's favour shall be done.'
So were both right well content:
Forth they from the Castle went,
And at the head of their Array
To Palestine the Brothers took their way.

Side by side they fought (the Lucies
Were a line for valour famed),
And where'er their strokes alighted,
There the Saracens were tamed.
Whence, then, could it come--the thought--

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poem by William Wordsworth
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Orlando Furioso Canto 20

ARGUMENT
Guido and his from that foul haunt retire,
While all Astolpho chases with his horn,
Who to all quarters of the town sets fire,
Then roving singly round the world is borne.
Marphisa, for Gabrina's cause, in ire
Puts upon young Zerbino scathe and scorn,
And makes him guardian of Gabrina fell,
From whom he first learns news of Isabel.

I
Great fears the women of antiquity
In arms and hallowed arts as well have done,
And of their worthy works the memory
And lustre through this ample world has shone.
Praised is Camilla, with Harpalice,
For the fair course which they in battle run.
Corinna and Sappho, famous for their lore,
Shine two illustrious light, to set no more.

II
Women have reached the pinnacle of glory,
In every art by them professed, well seen;
And whosoever turns the leaf of story,
Finds record of them, neither dim nor mean.
The evil influence will be transitory,
If long deprived of such the world had been;
And envious men, and those that never knew
Their worth, have haply hid their honours due.

III
To me it plainly seems, in this our age
Of women such is the celebrity,
That it may furnish matter to the page,
Whence this dispersed to future years shall be;
And you, ye evil tongues which foully rage,
Be tied to your eternal infamy,
And women's praises so resplendent show,
They shall, by much, Marphisa's worth outgo.

IV
To her returning yet again; the dame
To him who showed to her such courteous lore,
Refused not to disclose her martial name,
Since he agreed to tell the style be bore.
She quickly satisfied the warrior's claim;
To learn his title she desired so sore.
'I am Marphisa,' the virago cried:
All else was known, as bruited far and wide.

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poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Book VII: Ethandune, the Last Charge

Away in the waste of White Horse Down
An idle child alone
Played some small game through hours that pass,
And patiently would pluck the grass,
Patiently push the stone.

On the lean, green edge for ever,
Where the blank chalk touched the turf,
The child played on, alone, divine,
As a child plays on the last line
That sunders sand and surf.

For he dwelleth in high divisions
Too simple to understand,
Seeing on what morn of mystery
The Uncreated rent the sea
With roarings, from the land.

Through the long infant hours like days
He built one tower in vain--
Piled up small stones to make a town,
And evermore the stones fell down,
And he piled them up again.

And crimson kings on battle-towers,
And saints on Gothic spires,
And hermits on their peaks of snow,
And heroes on their pyres,

And patriots riding royally,
That rush the rocking town,
Stretch hands, and hunger and aspire,
Seeking to mount where high and higher,
The child whom Time can never tire,
Sings over White Horse Down.

And this was the might of Alfred,
At the ending of the way;
That of such smiters, wise or wild,
He was least distant from the child,
Piling the stones all day.

For Eldred fought like a frank hunter
That killeth and goeth home;
And Mark had fought because all arms
Rang like the name of Rome.

And Colan fought with a double mind,
Moody and madly gay;
But Alfred fought as gravely

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poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Ballad of the White Horse (1911)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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