Quotes about hill, page 9
Paradise Lost: Book X
Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood
Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above
Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd
The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh
Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath'd
Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer
Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight
Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port
Not of mean suiters, nor important less
Seem'd thir Petition, then when th' ancient Pair
In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore
The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine
Of Themis stood devout. To Heav'n thir prayers
Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes
Blow'n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd
Dimentionless through Heav'nly dores; then clad
With incense, where the Golden Altar fum'd,
By thir great Intercessor, came in sight
Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son
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poem by John Milton
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I Walk Down The Hill Of My Own Loneliness
I WALK DOWN THE HILL OF MY OWN LONELINESS
I walk down the hill of my own loneliness
It is a sad hill
It is a long hill
But it is my hill.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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The Echo, The Mocking Bird
to produce the echo
i need one single voice
to make the sound
i need the hill and another hill
sort of wall
where the voice is trapped
and bounce
from one corner to another
and there you have
the echo
you are the sound
i am the hill
and another hill
i am many
much many than you
expect
do you see that tree
higher than your roof?
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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New Year Song
WE climb the hill; the mist conceals
That valley where we could not stay;
Surely this hill's crest, gained, reveals
The glory of the sunlit day.
The hill is climbed. Still shadow-land--
Still darkling looms another hill.
Oh, weary feet!--climb that to find
A new ascent, 'mid shadows still!
We dare not stop or think of rest,
This one hill may be all that lies
Between us and our souls' desire--
The splendour of the eastern skies.
Through long long lives we till and tend,
Sow, weed, and water, all in vain;
Without the flower we looked to find,
Each year springs blooms and dies again.
Bowed down with our unanswered prayers,
Our face averted from our past,
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poem by Edith Nesbit
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Paco De Lucia In Guitar Strings
the guitar strings of paco de lucia
are not new to me
the sound of his spanish guitar
strumming on my mind
they were with me
in my childhood
with my friends
we get a smooth
long and strong
coconut palm
take it on top
of a hill
covered with green
carabao grass
and we ride
on the palm
slide it
on the hill
and
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Midnight On The Mansion Hill
No rings or vows, no settling down,
Not on the cheating side of town
We took that short and winding road
Up through the trees where no-one goes
No veils or lace, no wedding cake
And no thought for the hearts we’d break
No, not until we’d had our fill
‘bout midnight on the mansion hill
No roses, cards, or kids to raise
Just forty nights and forty days
It had to end and we both knew
The very moment we broke through
No walking out, no worn out shoes
No long ascent, no coy refuse,
Just sudden crush and overspill
‘bout midnight on the mansion hill
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poem by Jim Hogg
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The White Road Up Athirt The Hill
WHEN high hot zuns da strik right down,
An' burn our zweaty fiazen brown,
An' zunny hangens that be nigh
Be back'd by hills so blue's the sky;
Then while the bells da sweetly cheem
Upon the champen high-neck'd team
How lively, wi' a friend, da seem
The white road up athirt the hill.
The zwellen downs, wi' chaky tracks,
A-climmen up ther zunny backs,
Da hide green meads, an' zedgy brooks,
An' clumps o' trees wi' glossy rooks,
An' hearty vo'ke to lafe and zing,
An' churches wi' ther bells to ring,
In parishes al in a string
Wi' white roads up athirt the hills.
At feast, when uncle's vo'ke da come
To spend the da wi' we at huome,
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poem by William Barnes
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The Hill Of San Sebastian
I ought to feel more satisfy an' happy dan
I be,
For better husban' dan ma own, it 's very
hard to fin'
An' plaintee woman if dey got such boy an'
girl as me
Would never have no troub' at all, an'
not'ing on deir min'
But w'ile dey're alway wit' me, an' dough I
love dem all
I can't help t'inkin' w'en I watch de chil'ren
out at play
Of tam I'm jus' lak dat mese'f, an' den de
tear will fall
For de hill of St. Sebastien is very far away!
It seem so pleasan' w'en I come off here ten
year ago
An' hardes' work I 'm gettin' den, was never
heavy load,
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poem by William Henry Drummond
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The Two Armies
Once over the ocean in distant lands,
In an age long past, were two hostile bands-
Two armies of men, both brave, both strong,
And their hearts beat high as they marched along
To fight the battle of right and wrong.
Never, I think, did the Eye of heaven
Look down on two armies so nearly even
In well-trained soldiers, in strength and might.
But one was the
Wrong
, and one was the
Right
,
And the last was the stronger in heaven's sight.
And these hostile armies drew near, one night,
And pitched their tents on two hill-sides green,
With only the brow of a hill between.
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poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Horrors of Majuba
'Twas after the great Majuba fight:
And the next morning, at daylight,
Captain Macbean's men were ordered to headquarters camp,
So immediately Captain Macbean and his men set out on tramp.
And there they were joined by the Blue Jackets and 58th men,
Who, for unflinching courage, no man can them condemn;
And that brave little band was commissioned to bury their dead,
And the little band numbered in all about one hundred.
And they were supplied with a white flag, fit emblem of death,
Then they started off to O'Neill's farm, with bated breath,
Where their comrades had been left the previous night,
And were lying weltering in their gore, oh! what a horrible sight.
And when they arrived at the foot of Majuba Hill,
They were stopped by a Boer party, but they meant no ill,
Who asked them what they wanted without dismay,
And when they said, their dead, there was no further delay.
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poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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