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cjwils3
11-16-2011, 15:46
Hello all,
Does anyone have a favourite poem from which they have drawn inspiration? For me personally, "If" by Rudyard Kipling has provided just that. Though written at the height of the British Empire, I think its message is valuable for every generation of aspiring young men. If I ever have a son, I will see to it that he memorizes it by heart as I have done!

tom kelly
11-16-2011, 16:25
The Poem written by Robert Frost, " Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening."
composed in June, 1922 at his house in Shaftsbury, VT. Robert Frost died on Jan. 29, 1963...He was 89 years old. Tom Kelly
The 4th & Last Stanza of the Poem:

The Woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep.

Dusty
11-16-2011, 16:44
April will come, with fresh green days
Rain, rain follows in beautiful May
Fish jump in June
Shade in July
Harvest in August-September; oh my!

October will come, but I'll hardly notice
'Cause the very next month will mean a new POTUS

Don
11-16-2011, 17:11
.

CPTAUSRET
11-16-2011, 17:46
These first four lines from William Blake's "Auguries of Innocence".


To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.

greenberetTFS
11-16-2011, 17:48
Inspirational Poems....."Trees" by SGT. Joyce Kilmer........;) "The Charge of the Light Brigade" Rudyard Kipling.......;) "Concord Hymn" by Ralph Waldo Emerson.........;) "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost".........;)

Big Teddy

greenberetTFS
11-16-2011, 18:11
The Poem written by Robert Frost, " Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening."
composed in June, 1922 at his house in Shaftsbury, VT. Robert Frost died on Jan. 29, 1963...He was 89 years old. Tom Kelly
The 4th & Last Stanza of the Poem:

The Woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep.

Tom beat me with his post that was also my favorite by Frost........;)
More info on Frost: Frost was 86 when he spoke and performed a reading of his poetry at the inauguration of President John F. Kennedy on January 20, 1961. He died in Boston two years later, of complications from prostate surgery. He was buried at the Old Bennington Cemetery in Bennington, Vermont. His epitaph quotes a line from one of his poems: "I had a lover's quarrel with the world." ...........;)

Big Teddy :munchin

Buffalobob
11-16-2011, 18:39
A lot of Robert Frost fans here I guess:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference


Other poem that I like is:

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

mojaveman
11-16-2011, 19:09
Lay me down in the cold cold ground,
where before many more have gone.

Lay me down in the cold cold ground,
where before many more have gone.

When they come I'll stand my ground,
stand my ground I'll not be afraid.

Thoughts of home take away my fears,
sweat and blood hide my veil of tears.

Once a year say a prayer for me,
close your eyes and remember me.

Never more shall I see the sun,
for I fell to a German gun.

Lay me down in the cold cold ground,
where before many more have gone.

Lay me down n the cold cold ground,
where before many more have gone.

Eerily well sung in the movie "We were soldiers once and young".

Richard
11-16-2011, 20:06
The one I used to send my wife as often as I could when deployed:

As the cold winds blow o'er the icy seas
and through the barren trees
naked in winter's harsh white cloak
look to your heart for warmth
and I'll return.

Richard

cat in the hat
11-17-2011, 01:44
A word is dead
when it is said
some say.
I say it just
begins to live
that day.

a good one for anybody who says what he means and means what he says.

(and Emily Dickinson never hurts with the ladies.)

grigori
11-17-2011, 04:14
The Poem written by Robert Frost, " Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening."
composed in June, 1922 at his house in Shaftsbury, VT. Robert Frost died on Jan. 29, 1963...He was 89 years old. Tom Kelly
The 4th & Last Stanza of the Poem:

The Woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep
And miles to go before I sleep.

This is among'st the ones I like but my favorite would be the stanza inscribed on the Clock Tower at Stirling Lines,Hereford the home of the British SAS,the stanza is from the poem "The Golden Journey to Samarkand" by James Elroy Fleckner this is how it goes-


We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go
Always a little further: it may be
Beyond the last blue mountain barred with snow,
Across that angry or that glimmering sea,
White on a throne or guarded in a cave
There lives a prophet who can understand
Why men were born: but surely we are brave,
Who make the Golden Journey to Samarkand.

This stanza is probably among'st the best things I have read as far as poetry is concerned.

Guymullins
11-17-2011, 08:32
Hello all,
Does anyone have a favourite poem from which they have drawn inspiration? For me personally, "If" by Rudyard Kipling has provided just that. Though written at the height of the British Empire, I think its message is valuable for every generation of aspiring young men. If I ever have a son, I will see to it that he memorizes it by heart as I have done!

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

neecheepure
11-17-2011, 09:47
Great lines throughout, if you're patient enough to "unpack" it

"I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone"

"I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honoured of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers"

"Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods."

"Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

Stingray
11-17-2011, 10:47
Most of my bludgeonings have been self inflicted in one way or another. :D

Invictus
William Ernest Henley


Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

ZonieDiver
11-17-2011, 10:58
I used to quote some of Kipling's "Barrack-Room Ballads" quite frequently. I used to be able to quote both of these completely. I found them very appropriate upon my return to civilian life, and college, in 1973.

Gunga Din

So I'll meet 'im later on
At the place where 'e is gone
Where it's always double drill and no canteen.
'E'll be squattin' on the coals
Givin' drink to poor damned souls,
An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din!
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Though I've belted you and flayed you,
By the livin' Gawd that made you,
You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!


Tommy

For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!

Air.177
11-17-2011, 11:45
It's rather morbid, but I've always liked Houseman's "Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries"

Epitaph on an Army of Mercenaries

These, in the day when heaven was falling,
The hour when earth's foundations fled,
Followed their mercenary calling,
And took their wages, and are dead.

Their shoulders held the sky suspended;
They stood, and earth's foundations stay;
What God abandoned, these defended,
And saved the sum of things for pay.

A.E. Housman

s
11-17-2011, 18:15
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.


Daffodils, by William Wordsworth.
I find it pacifying and highly inspiring.

cjwils3
11-20-2011, 11:10
Great lines throughout, if you're patient enough to "unpack" it

"I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed
Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone"

"I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; cities of men
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honoured of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers"

"Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods."

"Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

That is a most excellent poem! Tennyson is one of my favourite authors/poets and I especially love "Crossing the Bar". It presents a soothing perspective of human mortality and I hope to have it read at my funeral.

DDD
11-20-2011, 11:26
Nothing from the "Bard of the Yukon"?

One of my favorites,

The Men Who Don't Fit In*

Robert W. Service


There's a race of men that don't fit in,
A race that can't stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain's crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don't know how to rest.
If they just went straight they might go far;
They are strong and brave and true;
But they're always tired of the things that are,
And they want the strange and new.
They say: "Could I find my proper groove,
What a deep mark I would make!"
So they chop and change, and each fresh move
Is only a fresh mistake.

And each forgets, as he strips and runs
With a brilliant, fitful pace,
It's the steady, quiet, plodding ones
Who win in the lifelong race.
And each forgets that his youth has fled,
Forgets that his prime is past,
Till he stands one day, with a hope that's dead,
In the glare of the truth at last.

He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance;
He has just done things by half.
Life's been a jolly good joke on him,
And now is the time to laugh.
Ha, ha! He is one of the Legion Lost;
He was never meant to win;
He's a rolling stone, and it's bred in the bone;
He's a man who won't fit in.

Marauder06
11-20-2011, 11:51
This is among'st the ones I like but my favorite would be the stanza inscribed on the Clock Tower at Stirling Lines,Hereford the home of the British SAS,the stanza is from the poem "The Golden Journey to Samarkand" by James Elroy Fleckner this is how it goes-


We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go
....


I have a 22 SAS coin with "We are the Pilgrims, master" inscribed on the back, I never knew what that meant before now. Thanks.

mojaveman
11-20-2011, 15:39
Nothing from the "Bard of the Yukon"?

One of my favorites,

The Men Who Don't Fit In*

Robert W. Service


There's a race of men that don't fit in,
A race that can't stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain's crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
And they don't know how to rest.
If they just went straight they might go far;
They are strong and brave and true;
But they're always tired of the things that are,
And they want the strange and new.
They say: "Could I find my proper groove,
What a deep mark I would make!"
So they chop and change, and each fresh move
Is only a fresh mistake.

And each forgets, as he strips and runs
With a brilliant, fitful pace,
It's the steady, quiet, plodding ones
Who win in the lifelong race.
And each forgets that his youth has fled,
Forgets that his prime is past,
Till he stands one day, with a hope that's dead,
In the glare of the truth at last.

He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance;
He has just done things by half.
Life's been a jolly good joke on him,
And now is the time to laugh.
Ha, ha! He is one of the Legion Lost;
He was never meant to win;
He's a rolling stone, and it's bred in the bone;
He's a man who won't fit in.

Describes me perfectly.

CSB
11-20-2011, 16:14
There was a poem published either here or at a sister site involving a soldier who is dying, calls out "take care of my soldiers" and finds himself at a table at Valhallah drinking mead with veterans of every war in history. Above his table is a sign "Iraq."

Anybody remembers that poem, about three four years ago? I can't find it.

x SF med
11-21-2011, 17:33
Rudyard Kipling

The Song of the Old Guard

Know this, my brethren, Heaven is clear
And all the clouds are gone--
The Proper Sort shall flourish now,
Good times are coming on"--
The evil that was threatened late
To all of our degree
Hath passed in discord and debate,
And,Hey then up go we!

A common people strove in vain
To shame us unto toil,
But they are spent and we remain,
And we shall share the spoil
According to our several needs
As Beauty shall decree,
As Age ordains or Birth concedes,
And, Hey then up go we!

And they that with accursed zeal
Our Service would amend,
Shall own the odds and come to heel
Ere worse befall their end:
For though no naked word be wrote
Yet plainly shall they see
What pinneth Orders on their coat,
And, Hey then up go we!

Our doorways that, in time of fear,
We opened overwide
Shall softly close from year to year
Till all be purified;
For though no fluttering fan be heard .
Nor chaff be seen to flee--
The Lord shall winnow the Lord's Preferred--
And, Hey then up go we!

Our altars which the heathen brake
Shall rankly smoke anew,
And anise, mint and cummin take
Their dread and sovereign due,
Whereby the buttons of our trade
Shall soon restored be
With curious work in gilt and braid,
And, Hey then up go we!

Then come, my brethren, and prepare
The candlesticks and bells,
The scarlet, brass, and badger's hair
Wherein our Honour dwells,
And straitly fence and strictly keep
The Ark's integrity
Till Armageddon break our sleep . . .
And, Hey then go we!

x SF med
11-21-2011, 17:37
Tommy
I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer,
The publican 'e up an' sez, "We serve no red-coats here."
The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an' to myself sez I:
O it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, go away";
But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play,
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play,
O it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins", when the band begins to play.

I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music-'alls,
But when it comes to fightin', Lord! they'll shove me in the stalls!
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, wait outside";
But it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide,
The troopship's on the tide, my boys, the troopship's on the tide,
O it's "Special train for Atkins" when the trooper's on the tide.

Yes, makin' mock o' uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap;
An' hustlin' drunken soldiers when they're goin' large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin' in full kit.
Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?"
But it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll,
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it's "Thin red line of 'eroes" when the drums begin to roll.

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints;
While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, fall be'ind",
But it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind,
There's trouble in the wind, my boys, there's trouble in the wind,
O it's "Please to walk in front, sir", when there's trouble in the wind.

You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all:
We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face
The Widow's Uniform is not the soldier-man's disgrace.
For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute!"
But it's "Saviour of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot;
An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please;
An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool -- you bet that Tommy sees!

SGT,I mean LT
11-22-2011, 05:25
Here's one that I like to read every couple of days or so.

To Live as a Warrior

So live your life that the fear of death
can never enter your heart.

Trouble no one about their religion;
respect others in their view,
and demand that they respect yours.

Love your life, perfect your life,
beatify all things in your life.

Seek to make your life long
and its purpose in the service of your people.

Prepare a noble death song for the day
when you go over the great divide.

Always give a word or a sign of salute when
meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger,
when in a lonely place.

Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

When you arise in the morning give thanks
for the food and for the joy of living.
If you see no reason for giving thanks,
the fault lies in yourself.

Abuse no one and nothing, for abuse turns
the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision.

Live right so when it comes your time to die,
you will not be like those whose hearts are filled with
the fear of death, who weep and pray for a little more
time to live their lives over again in a different way.

Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.

-Tecumseh