Billy, old boy, I love you, I kiss your shiny black nose;
Now, home there.
Billy, old boy, I love you, I kiss your shiny black nose;
Now, home there.
Where all is love and laughter, sure it's hard to think of loss .
No matter how we sow and reap
The end of all is endless sleep;
From strife a merciful release,
From life the crowning prize of Peace.
We have no heart for civil strife,
Our burdens we prefer to bear;
We long to live a peaceful life
And claim of happiness our share.
I'll be immortal in my Book.
So troll until the rafter rings,
And may my life be long
To praise the Lord for precious things
like Women, Wine and Song.
For all my life is in the sun
And I must fly away.
Oh, now I know the joy of strife!
Aye, if of life I gave my own
I could not for my guilt atone.
We've bidden good-bye to life in a cage, we're finished with pushing a pen;
They're pumping us full of bellicose rage, they're showing us how to be men.
Though ignorance is bliss
And love be blind,
Faithless may be the kiss
Of womankind.
Now I want to sing,
Leap, laugh, play.
Look - my triangular Cape of Good Hope.
Yet oh I thought the life was grand
And loved my liberty!
Poor me, who dreamed to be immortal!
I wonder, but it's none too gay.
Ah yes, my friend, I merit mirth.
My life was a problem in ciphers, a weary and profitless sum.
And now, my butchers, I embrace my fate.
Pray God, she doesn't find me out.
Your smile is sweet - but what's behind?
You died, but your life was not in vain:
You helped a child to forget her pain,
And let hope live in our hearts again.
And you'll never die, my wonderful boy,
While life is noble and true;
For all our beauty and hope and joy
We will owe to our lads like you.
To Nature I will pay my debt
With stoic laughter:
But spare me, God, your awful threat
Of Life Here-after!
Don't let them buy it, pitying God!
So prized for old times' sake,
With all their memories of love and pain.
She died on Christmas day -- it seems so sad
That one you love should die on Christmas day.
And what is the moral of all this rot?
Lord, let the theme be thankfulness!
And maybe it is just as well
When we from life and lust are riven,
That though our souls should sink to hell
Our tombs point: Destination Heaven!
Oh boy, my boy with the sunny brow, and the lips of love and of song!
Oh, I abhor this life!
O magic city of a dream!
I saw my maids today
Singing so innocently;
Their eyes with happiness were gay,
They looked at me so gently.
This Happiness a habit is,
And Life is what we make it:
See!
Smiling is Love in a foam of Spring flowers:
Harden our hearts to him -- on let us press!
I asked the first what fate would she
Wish joy of life to bring to her.
Then she woke from sleep and she saw you there,
And her eyes were love and her lips were prayer.
But I'll be sad, I fear,
And shed a tear,
For those I love and leave
My loss to grieve:
'Tis just their grief I'll grieve,
Believe, believe.
In garden sanctuaried sweet,
Full favoured by the steadfast sun,
plunged in the Past, a life complete
He lived.
Ah, well I knew love could not be,
So sought my fortune o'er the sea,
Deeming that you were lost to me.
A father's pride I used to know,
A mother's love was mine;
For swinish husks I let them go,
And bedded with the swine.
For my hair is grey, and his was gold; he'd the best of his life to live;
And I'd loved him so, and I'm old, I'm old; and he's all I had to give.
A black scar in the sunshine by the palm-leaf or the pine,
Blind to the night and dead to all desire;
Yet oh, of life and uplift what a symbol and a sign!
There's happiness in a glass,
A pipe and the kiss of a lass.
I love you as my life.
I'll blossom out as an ancient beau.
Brother, heed the wrath to come!
For love of Christ who died.
O Sacred Muse, my lyre excuse!
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories