Quotes about heave
A Land Shanty
Sou' sou' east, with the course set fair
Heave ho, me hearties!
On the Geelong road we're cruisin' there
Seven tars with ne'er a care
Heave ho, me hearties!
When up speaks Bill of trouble aft;
But the bos'n grinned and the skipper laughed;
An' 'e sez, 'We'll trust the queer ole craft
Heave ho, me hearties!'
Stuns'ls, mains'ls, all were set
Heave ho, me hearties!
An' the fust mate sez, 'We'll make port yet,
For the seas are smooth, so don't you fret
Heave ho, me hearties!'
But the steersman sez, 'I doubt her feel,
For she ain't responding to the wheel,
An' I got me doubts of 'r starboard keel
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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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96
if i heave a sigh, what will i do with what i did not heave?
if i heave a sigh
into the air, and i keep some other more inside myself,
unconsumed, unspent,
what will i do with it?
keep it
like a secret in my closed fingers and pretend i am angry
with this clenched fist
when in truth i have nothing
no plan of keeping things that long because my arms
my soon go
into the river and be lost floating like a log from a hill?
i heave a sigh, that is enough relief,
i am emptied of something heavy
in my nose
i become an island losing air
but keeping sand and
stones
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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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South Australia
In South Australia I was born
Heave away, Haul away
In South Australia 'round Cape Horn
We're bound for South Australia
Haul away your rolling king
Heave away, Haul away
Haul away oh hear me sing
We're bound for South Australia
As I walked out one morning fair
Heave away, Haul away
'Twas there I met Miss Nancy Blair
We're bound for South Australia
There's just one thing that's on my mind
Heave away, Haul away
That's leaving Nancy Blair behind
We're bound for South Australia
And as we wallop round Cape Horn
Heave away, Haul away
You'll wish to God you've never been born
We're bound for South Australia
song performed by Pogues
Added by Lucian Velea
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Vision Of Columbus - Book 1
Long had the Sage, the first who dared to brave
The unknown dangers of the western wave,
Who taught mankind where future empires lay
In these fair confines of descending day,
With cares o'erwhelm'd, in life's distressing gloom,
Wish'd from a thankless world a peaceful tomb;
While kings and nations, envious of his name,
Enjoy'd his toils and triumph'd o'er his fame,
And gave the chief, from promised empire hurl'd,
Chains for a crown, a prison for a world.
Now night and silence held their lonely reign,
The half-orb'd moon declining to the main;
Descending clouds, o'er varying ether driven,
Obscured the stars and shut the eye from heaven;
Cold mists through opening grates the cell invade,
And deathlike terrors haunt the midnight shade;
When from a visionary, short repose,
That raised new cares and temper'd keener woes,
Columbus woke, and to the walls address'd
The deep-felt sorrows of his manly breast.
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poem by Joel Barlow
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If I Heave A Sigh, What Will I Do With What I Did Not Heave?
if i heave a sigh
into the air, and i keep some other more inside myself,
unconsumed, unspent,
what will i do with it?
keep it
like a secret in my closed fingers and pretend i am angry
with this clenched fist
when in truth i have nothing
no plan of keeping things that long because my arms
my soon go
into the river and be lost floating like a log from a hill?
i heave a sigh, that is enough relief,
i am emptied of something heavy
in my nose
i become an island losing air
but keeping sand and
stones
to keep my balance with the coconut trees
still
[...] Read more
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Heaven For Everyone
Words and music by roger taylor
This could be heaven
This could be heaven
This could be heaven for everyone
In these days of cool reflection
You come to me and everything seems alright
In these days of cold affections
You sit by me - and everythings fine
This could be heave for everyone
This world could be fed, this world could be fun
This could be heaven for everyone
This world could be free, this world could be one
In this world of cool deception
Just your smile can smooth my ride
These troubled days of cruel rejection, hmm
You come to me, soothe my troubled mind
Yeah, this could be heave for everyone
This world could be fed, this world could be fun
This could be heaven for everyone, yeah
This world should be free, this world could be one
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song performed by Queen
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Columbiad: Book VIII
The Argument
Hymn to Peace. Eulogy on the heroes slain in the war; in which the Author finds occasion to mention his Brother. Address to the patriots who have survived the conflict; exhorting them to preserve liberty they have established. The danger of losing it by inattention illustrated in the rape of the Golden Fleece. Freedom succeeding to Despotism in the moral world, like Order succeeding to Chaos in the physical world. Atlas, the guardian Genius of Africa, denounces to Hesper the crimes of his people in the slavery of the Afripans. The Author addresses his countrymen on that subject, and on the principles of their government.
Hesper, recurring to his object of showing Columbus the importance of his discoveries, reverses the order of time, and exhibits the continent again in its savage state. He then displays the progress of arts in America. Fur-trade. Fisheries. Productions. Commerce. Education. Philosophical discoveries. Painting. Poetry.
Hail, holy Peace, from thy sublime abode
Mid circling saints that grace the throne of God!
Before his arm around our embryon earth
Stretch'd the dim void, and gave to nature birth.
Ere morning stars his glowing chambers hung,
Or songs of gladness woke an angel's tongue,
Veil'd in the splendors of his beamful mind,
In blest repose thy placid form reclined,
Lived in his life, his inward sapience caught,
And traced and toned his universe of thought.
Borne thro the expanse with his creating voice
Thy presence bade the unfolding worlds rejoice,
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poem by Joel Barlow
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The Fisher Child's Lullaby
THE wind is out in its rage to-night,
And your father is far at sea.
The rime on the window is hard and white
But dear, you are near to me.
Heave ho, weave low,
Waves of the briny deep;
Seethe low and breathe low,
But sleep you, my little one, sleep, sleep.
The little boat rocks in the cove no more,
But the flying sea-gulls wail;
I peer through the darkness that wraps the shore,
For sight of a home set sail.
Heave ho, weave low,
Waves of the briny deep;
Seethe low and breathe low,
But sleep you, my little one, sleep, sleep.
Ay, lad of mine, thy father may die
In the gale that rides the sea,
But we'll not believe it, not you and I,
Who mind us of Galilee.
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poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Anchor Song
Heh! Walk her round. Heave, ah heave her short again!
Over, snatch her over, there, and hold her on the pawl.
Loose all sail, and brace your yards back and full --
Ready jib to pay her off and heave short all!
Well, ah fare you well; we can stay no more with you, my love --
Down, set down your liquor and your girl from off your knee;
For the wind has come to say:
"You must take me while you may,
If you'd go to Mother Carey
(Walk her down to Mother Carey!),
Oh, we're bound to Mother Carey where she feeds her chicks at sea!"
Heh! Walk her round. Break, ah break it out o' that!
Break our starboard-bower out, apeak, awash, and clear.
Port -- port she casts, with the harbour-mud beneath her foot,
And that's the last o' bottom we shall see this year!
Well, ah fare you well, for we've got to take her out again --
Take her out in ballast, riding light and cargo-free.
And it's time to clear and quit
When the hawser grips the bitt,
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poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Lewti, Or The Circassian Love-Chaunt
At midnight by the stream I roved,
To forget the form I loved.
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart; for Lewti is not kind.
The Moon was high, the moonlight gleam
And the shadow of a star
Heaved upon Tamaha's stream;
But the rock shone brighter far,
The rock half sheltered from my view
By pendent boughs of tressy yew.--
So shines my Lewti's forehead fair,
Gleaming through her sable hair,
Image of Lewti! from my mind
Depart; for Lewti is not kind.
I saw a cloud of palest hue,
Onward to the moon it passed;
Still brighter and more bright it grew,
With floating colours not a few,
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poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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