Looking For A Poem
(7/11/2007 2:46:00 AM)
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Can anyone help to identify the author of the poem that starts with the following lines: 'Is'nt it strange that princes and kings/ And clowns that caper in sawdust rings'
Thanks very much
(7/9/2007 12:40:00 PM)
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Hi. My Nan recently passed away and my Mom is looking for a poem she remembers from years ago about death. She remembers neither the title nor the author nor any of the actual lines - only the gist of it. It goes something like 'I have not left you - only gone to a different room. When you go into the room, I will have moved to a different one. You cannot see me but I am still here'.
Sorry, I know it's not much to go on but if anyone thinks they know what this poem is, it would mean a great deal to my Mom
(7/6/2007 11:38:00 PM)
This may be too little information for anyone to help, but I am quite desperate. I am looking for a poem that I am almost positive was written by an American beat poet. I heard it read at a funeral several years ago and loved it, wrote it down but have long since lost that paper. I only remember that it mentioned a flame or a fire, and that 'emerald' was almost definitely the last word. It was quite short, four or five lines. Can anyone help?
(7/3/2007 4:07:00 PM)
Hello! I am looking for a poem that was translated by John Dryden. The poem is apparently by Salvaggi, an italian poet who wrote in Intalian or in Latin. In this poem he praises John Milton and says that Milton is better than both of them together. I found a Hebrew translation of the poem from the English translation by Dryden. The title in hebrew is 'God's three men', but the title can be a paraphrase of the original title of the first translation because I know that the translator belongs to the time in Hebrew literature that translators had much 'artistic freedom', and their translatons weren't completely accurate compared to the original work. If someone knows Hebrew, I can post the Hebrew version, if that will help to find Dryden's translation.
Thanks in advance!
(7/2/2007 1:06:00 PM)
im looking for the rest of this poem i read once when i was very young but over the years i can only remember bits of it thats what having kids do to you
it was on the front cover of a book by daniela steel i cant remember the books name. it starts
pass hand to hand the wishes the dreams, the hopes of an entire nation sent to war, a score of old men leading all our boys to die. while we watch in horror, in pain................i think this was poem was bril it made me cry the first time i read it when i was about 7 years old
(6/25/2007 3:34:00 PM)
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When my grandmother was 95 and again on her hundreth birthday (she passed away at 101 in 1993) , she was able to recite this poem. Can you tell me the source of the various references?
“Untitled” by Anonymous
There was a little boy, and
His name was Robert Reese,
And every Friday afternoon he had
To speak a piece.
So many poems thus he learned,
That soon he had a score,
Of recitations in his head,
and still kept learning more
Now this is what happened.
He was called upon one week
And totally forgot the piece
he was about to speak.
His brain he cudgled, not a word remained
within his head, and so
He spoke at random,
and this is what he said:
“My beaufitul, my beautiful, ”
why standed proudly by.
“It was the Schooner Hesperus
The breaking waves dashed high.”
“Why is the forum crowded? ”
“What means this stir in Rome? ”
“Under the spreading chestnut tree”
“There is no place like home.”
When freedom from his mountain height”
cried “Twinkle, twinkle little star”
“Shoot if you must this old gray head, ”
“King Henry of Navarre.”
“Roll on, thou dark and deep blue
castled crags of Drachenfels.”
Many name is Norman. “On the Grampian Hills,
Ring out wild bells.”
“If you’re waking, call me early.”
“To be or not to be, ”
“The bell must not ring tonight.”
“Oh, Woodsman, spare that tree.”
“Charge, Chester, charge on lovely war, ”
And let who would be clever,
“The boy stood on the burning deck, ”
But I go on forever.
His elocution was superb,
his voice and gestures fine;
His schoolmates all applauded
As he finished the last line.
“I see, it doesn’t matter, ” said he,
Just what I say,
As long as I declaim
With oratorical display.”
Please feel free to correct where I have got parts of it wrong. I want to have it right.
(6/20/2007 1:45:00 AM)
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I thought it would be easy to find the words of the traditional 'Twentyone today, twentyone today...' song, but It's not! At 75 it's a long time since it was sung for me! Can anyone help
Mike. Northland NZ.Replies for this message:
(6/20/2007 9:08:00 AM)
Mike, Have found another possible. Twenty-one today, Twenty-one today, I've got the key of the door, Never been twenty-one before, Father said I can do what I like, So shout hip, hip, hooray, For ... more
(6/20/2007 8:12:00 AM)
As far as I can remember it, it goes something like this. Twenty-one today. Twenty-one today. He's/She's got the key of the door, Never been twenty-one before. La la, la la, la, la, la, So we all wan ... more
- Ernestine Northover (6/20/2007 9:08:00 AM) Post reply
(6/19/2007 4:19:00 PM)
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dear ppl out there Im looking for this poem can any one help me
I have just listened it once but i dont know who is the poet so cant figure out...this is a part of it
'Give me a guy
with a straight forward eye
a smile that he uses
but never abuses
and a grip that hurts your hand'
please help to find this
(6/10/2007 12:45:00 PM)
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I heard a poem by David Wagner today on a classical music station. The name of the poem is 'A Girl Playing in the Sand' by David Wagner. There is a poet by that name listed as a member of this site and I have sent him an E-Mail asking if he is the correct David Wagner. I am looking for a copy of this poem.
Can anyone help?
(6/9/2007 9:01:00 AM)
i am looking for a poem by sir edwin arnold about the victoria cross.
i thought it was 'the frist distribution of the victoria cross' which was published in 'the secret of death'. however, this is not the poem i want.
the poem i want has the following verse:
Thus saith the Queen: 'For him who gave
His life as nothing in the fight,
So he from Russian wrong might save
My crown, my people, and my right;
Let there be made a cross of bronze,
And grave thereon my queenly crest;
Write 'Valour' on its haughty scroll,
And hang it on his breast.'
anyone any ideas?
regards james murphy(firstname.lastname@example.org)