lirik lagu yahya parkinson - woodnotes wild
[stanza 1]
often have i wandered lonely
in the woodland ‘mid the lime trees;
where the solitude was deepest;
thro’ among the waving brackens
or amid the rhododendrons;
plucking blossoms of the hawth~rn
pulling flowers of honeysuckle;
where the sparrows they were chatt’ring
and the blackbirds loudly whistled
far away from busy cities
with their smoky air, and chimneys
reaching skyward, tall and spiry;
sending forth the fumes of midnight
air polluting, fitful breathing
from the traffic thunder rolling
in the daytime, in the night timе;
always streaming ‘long the pavemеnt;
never ending, trampling, trampling;
busy thousands ever going
ceaseless o’er the stony pathway
some with careless print of manhood
written on their laughing faces;
thinking on their past enjoyment
or of joys that lie before them;
life to them is but a playtime;
dreaming not of future sorrow
or of tortures, pains, and hardships
that the flying hours are bringing
pale~faced men and sickly women
on the seething river drifting
at the mercy of its waters;
now engulfed within the vortex
now upborn upon the billows;
ever striving, ever struggling
to evade the fate before them;
prostitution stalking shameless;
womanhood in tattered garments
stranded wrecks upon the pavement;
in the gutter pr~ne and sodden;
in a tawdry, drunken stupor
face and form no longer human
while with heedless eyes averted
fellow~men are by them passing;
scarce an arm is raised in helping
for to stay them in their falling;
not a word of fellow~feeling
voice unheard of mercy pleading;
while in thousands men are dying
sinking in the social vortex
in a h~ll of l~st and passion
why this misery and anguish
that the people they are bearing;
why this crying, this despairing;
are not nature’s bounties spreading
wide along the earth so sp~cious;
with a lavish hand she’s casting
food in plenty for the gleaning;
why should people grind their brothers
trample them like armies marching
o’er a field of mangled foemen?
shall the earth upon its journey
spinning onward through the ether;
with its heavy weight of sorrow
spin from age to age forever;
men make slaves of fellow~creatures
wake! ye lowly sons of labour
rise and boldly strike for freedom;
has the past’s ign0ble serfdom
brought ye to such low debas~m~nt
so crushed out your aspirations
and enslaved your budding manhood
that ye fear to raise your voices;
fear to stand for truth and honour;
for the freedom of the lowly?
we have not the blood of normans
glowing warm with every throbbing
pouring through our hearts’ strong chambers;
but we have the strength of duty
and an inborn love of freedom
strongly surging in our bosoms;
and we have a blest intuition
of a something far diviner
than the slaving of the nations
or the crushing of a brother:
hearts have we alive to pity;
and emotions that are truest
to the mothers dear that bore us;
with a thought for one another
and a love for even the lowest
of the things upon earth’s surface;
in the mountains or the valleys
in the densest of the jungle
on the sandy wastes of afric
and the hills of hindustani
pioneers of thought and progress
raise your standards high and higher;
give your banners to the tempest
tossing folds before the people
what care we for lightnings flashing
or the rolling thunders pealing
in the forefront of the army
of the pioneers of freedom?
on ye leaders of the vanguard!
wheel your forces into action;
see the purple shades of morning
flaming thro’ the night’s dark tresses;
steady ye the men of action
steady for the furious onset
banners waving, weapons gleaming;
hand to hand the foe encounter;
voices raising to their loudest
teachers of a true evangel
from the city labour ridden
to the forest, to the mountain;
be at one with singing nature
in the mystic base of substance
in the all~absorbing ether;
drinking in the boundless nectar;
breathing air, free, unpolluted;
standing on a wind~swept mountain
with the winds about you playing;
with your naked bosom breasting
surges of the aërial ocean;
not for us the humming city
with its reeking filth of slumdom
full of dirty courts and alleys;
fashioned by the guilt of ages
degradation of the people
let us to the lonely streamlets
let us to the woods and valleys;
where the plane~tree spreads its branches;
where the stormy winds are rushing
thro’ the sycamores and cedars
thro’ the lime trees and the willows;
when the autumn spreads its glory
turns the leaves to brown and golden;
when the river fitful gushing
rushes ‘neath the drooping willow;
beating ‘gainst the lowest branches
and in mimic whirlpools running;
in the centre of the current
where the water surges strongest;
bends its bosom like a bowstring
as it dashes in its fury
onward thro’ the reeds and sedges;
leaping free to kiss the willows;
like a serpent, twining, gliding
on to where the winds are reeling
on the bosom of the ocean;
on to mingle with its waters;
where a scene of wintry sunset
bursts upon the wond’ring vision;
skies enwrought with crimson lining
fields of yellow, lake, and purple;
lighted by the fiery ashes
of a thousand krakatoas
there is nought on earth so n0ble
nothing so divine and holy
as the strongest of the passions;
that awakes within our bosoms
love for every sentient creature;
and for every wild flower blowing
waving in the summer breezes
on the lofty top of mountains
or within the shady hedgerows
or secluded depths of valleys;
poppies growing on the hillside
roses blooming in the garden
tenderness in every action
in our dealings with our fellows;
and a deep responsive feeling
in their joy and in their sorrow;
sympathy with every being
with the poorest and the lowest
with the sickly and the needy;
looking on them as our brothers
love it is the highest ideal
that the human mind can rise to;
n0bler far than states or princedoms
or the sovereign rights of empire;
empires are but transient glories
worn upon the brow of ages
hollow mockeries of a grandeur
only glittering on the surface
‘way with such a fleeting glory;
give to us the love that’s lasting
as the earth on which we’re living
as the heavens in its beauty
as the star~lines in its brightness
or the star~depths in its deepness;
sp~cious as the very cosmos
bounded not by earthly limits;
love far greater than a mother’s
who will die to save her offspring
give her life for their protection;
not a love the tiger knows of
or the lion in the desert
or the bird has for its young ones;
but a love as comprehensive
as the human thought can fathom
only they alone are righteous
who have love for all their brethren
in this sphere of pain and labour;
and for every moving creature
living on the world’s wide body;
love divine and everlasting;
deepest of the soul’s outpourings
breathings of a thing diviner
than the swimming, glowing cosmos;
than the blaze of constellations
showering star~dust through the sp~ces;
flower of all the human yearnings
for a better frame of spirit
give us but the power of living;
teach us we are one with nature
part and parcel of the mountains
of the rivers and the ocean
of the air and rustling plane~trees
flowers and earth and ocean fauna;
we by nature’s bonds united
like the stars to one another
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