Charles Mackay

Rating: 4.33
Rating: 4.33

Charles Mackay Poems

If I were a voice, a persuasive voice,
That could travel the wide world through,
I would fly on the beams of the morning light,
And speak to men with a gentle might,
And tell them to be true.

There dwelt a miller, hale and bold,
Beside the river Dee;
He worked and sang from morn till night -
No lark more blithe than he;

The man is thought a knave, or fool.
Or bigot, plotting crime,
Who, for the advancement of his kind.
Is wiser than his time.

Light is love without esteem.
Lighter than a feather,
But ours has borne
Contempt and scorn,
And sorrow's wintry weather!

O! why should we bewail the dead,
Why sorrow o'er their narrow bed?
Have they not sought the happy shore,
Where human cares oppress no more?

When grasping tyranny offends,
Or angry bigots frown;
When rulers plot, for sefish ends,
To keep the nations down;
When statesmen form unholy league

The merry Spring, the bright, bright Spring,
What joys she shakes from her flowery wing!
When the young bird sings from its leafy nest,
How happy it sleeps on its loved one's breast;
How sweet to roam at beauty's side,

OLD Tubal Cain was a man of might
In the days when earth was young:
By the fierce red light of his furnace bright

I'm poor and quite unknown,
I have neither fame nor rank;
My labour is all I own,
I have no gold at the bank;
I'm one of the common crowd,

I have lived and I have loved;
I have waked and I have slept;
I have sung and I have danced;

'Lorenzo pines in dungeon gloom,
'In chains my gallant lover lies,
'A tyrant has pronounced his doom,
'To-morrow he is free-or dies!

When tke sentinel mastiff keepeth guard,
And all is dark in the farmer's yard,
Ere the early cock hath begun to crow,
Abroad with the owl and the bat we go:
Thirst is mighty-hunger is strong

SHEPHERD, thou say'st there is a star
Which rules our changeful destinies:
Can mortal vision soar so far,
Or pierce such mighty mysteries?

YOU have no enemies, you say?
Alas! my friend, the boast is poor;
He who has mingled in the fray

'Where shall I hide myself?-
Lost and undone!-
A beggar-an outcast-
Insulting the Sun!
Oh! Yesterday vanished!

Why, O wind of summer.
Why that restless moan?
Weepest thou for pleasures
That are past and gone?

Many-and yet our fate is one,
And little after all we crave
Enjoyment of the common sun,
Fair passage to the common grave;
Our bread and fire, our plain attire,

BEAUTIFUL Paris! morning star of nations!
The Lucifer of cities, lifting high
The beacon blaze of young democracy!
Medina and Gomorrha both in one
Medina of a high and holy creed
To be developed in a coming time!

We come! We come!
To soften the strokes of fate.
And lead the wanderer back in dreams
To his woodland cot, and his native streams,
And his long-expecting mate.

In the deep silence of the night,
We come, O harvest moon,
To dance beneath thy gentle light,
To many a merry tune;

Charles Mackay Biography

Charles Mackay (27 March 1814 – 24 December 1889) was a Scottish poet, journalist, and song writer. He was born in Perth, Scotland. His mother died shortly after his birth and his father was by turns a naval officer and a foot soldier. He was educated at the Caledonian Asylum, London, and at Brussels, but spent much of his early life in France. Coming to London in 1834, he engaged in journalism, working for the Morning Chronicle from 1835–1844 and then became Editor of The Glasgow Argus. He moved to the Illustrated London News in 1848 becoming Editor in 1852. He published Songs and Poems (1834), wrote a History of London, Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds (1841), and a romance, Longbeard. He is also remembered for his Dictionary of Lowland Scotch. During his lifetime, his fame chiefly rested upon his songs, some of which, including Cheer, Boys, Cheer, were in 1846 set to music by Henry Russell, and had an astonishing popularity. Mackay first visited and published his observations about America as Life and Liberty in America: or Sketches of a Tour of the United States and Canada in 1857-58 (1859). He returned to act as Times correspondent during the American Civil War, and in that capacity discovered and disclosed the Fenian conspiracy. He had the degree of LL.D. from the University of Glasgow in 1846. He was a member of the Percy Society. He died in London. His daughter became known as the novelist Marie Corelli. This article incorporates public domain text from : Cousin, John William (1910). A Short Biographical Dictionary of English Literature. London, J. M. Dent & Sons; New York, E. P. Dutton.)

The Best Poem Of Charles Mackay

If I Were A Voice

If I were a voice, a persuasive voice,
That could travel the wide world through,
I would fly on the beams of the morning light,
And speak to men with a gentle might,
And tell them to be true.
I'd fly, I'd fly, o'er land and sea,
Wherever a human heart might be,
Telling a tale, or singing a song,
In praise of the right - in blame of the wrong.


If I were a voice, a consoling voice,
I'd fly on the wings of air,
The homes of Sorrow and Guilt I'd seek,
And calm and truthful words I'd speak
To save them from Despair.
I'd fly, I'd fly, o'er the crowded town,
And drop, like the happy sun-light, down
Into the hearts of suffering men,
And teach them to rejoice again.


If I were a voice, a convincing voice,
I'd travel with the wind,
And whenever I saw the nations torn
By warfare, jealousy, or scorn,
If I were a voice, a convincing voice,
I 'd travel with the wind,
And whenever I saw the nations torn
By warfare, jealousy, or scorn,
Or hatred of their kind,
I'd fly, I'd fly, on the thunder-crash,
And into their blinded bosoms flash;
And, all their evil thoughts subdued,
I'd teach them Christian Brotherhood.


If I were a voice, a pervading voice,
I'd seek the kings of Earth;
I'd find them alone on their beds at night
And whisper words that should guide them right
Lessons of priceless worth;
I'd fly more swift than the swiftest bird,
And tell them things they never heard
Truths which the ages for aye repeat
Unknown to the statesmen at their feet.


If I were a voice, an immortal voice,
I'd speak in the people's ear;
And whenever they shouted 'Liberty,'
Without deserving to be free,
I'd make their error clear.
I'd fly, I'd fly, on the wings of day,
Rebuking wrong on my world-wide way,
And making all the Earth rejoice-
If I were a voice-an immortal voice.

Charles Mackay Comments

barbie 13 February 2018

Very good

4 2 Reply
Rajesh parjapat 13 March 2018

Rajesh Kumar

3 2 Reply
Khushi 07 June 2018

Beauitful poems

2 2 Reply
Sneha 29 June 2018

Nice poem

1 1 Reply
Nargis ali 25 June 2018

So nice

1 1 Reply
Sweetwood 1482 pkwy 14 June 2019

airport 1508 st

1 0 Reply
Chandrika 07 January 2019

Very nice

1 0 Reply

Please show a poem

1 0 Reply
bharat jat 30 July 2018

good poem

2 1 Reply
Harshit Pandey 02 July 2018

Very nice poem

1 1 Reply

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