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A Slight Misunderstanding At The Jasper Gate - Poem by Henry Lawson

Oh, do you hear the argument, far up above the skies?
The voice of old Saint Peter, in expostulation rise?
Growing shrill, and ever shriller, at the thing that’s being done;
More in sorrow than in anger, like our old Jack Robertson.
Old Saint Peter’s had his troubles—heaps of troubles, great and small,
Since he kept the gates of Heaven—but this last one covers all!
It is not a crowing rooster—that’s a sight and sound he’s useter,
Simulated by some impish spirit that he knows full well;
It is simply Drake, of Devon, who is breaking out of Heaven,
With a crew of pirate brethren, to come down once more to Hell!
Oh, do you hear the distant sound, that seems to come and go,
As thunder does in summer time, when faraway and low?
Or the “croon” beneath the church bells, when they’re pealing from the tower—
And the church bells are the battle-call in this dark, anxious hour.
Do you feel the distant throbbing; Do you feel it go and come;
Like a war hymn on horizons, or a centuries-mellowed drum!
Hear it sobbing, hear it throbbing, like some not unhappy sobbing—
By the peaceful Devon landscape and the fair Devonian home!
By the land those spirits meet in—and it’s Drake’s Drum, spirit-beaten,
By perhaps the Rose of Torridge—and it’s calling Drake to come?

Oh, do you feel a cooling hand upon your fevered brow?
That dulls your ears to Hell’s Own Din—or that worse Silence, now?
In the starlight in the Channel, while Destruction lurks below,
Or that Nether-Hell, the Stoke-hole, where you cannot see or know?
Do you feel a soothing presence, keeping sanity in one
Going mad, in Satan’s Nightmare, where the gun-crew works the gun?
It is Raleigh!—Admiral-Poet, who had dreams though few may know it—
Who had dreams of England’s greatness, otherwise than by the sea.
Sorrowful but all-forgiving, bringing courage to the living—
Raleigh’s Spirit, not from London, but his Vanished Colony.

Oh, do you feel a stony calm that you had never known?
With comrades in the firing-line, or “Sentry Go” alone.
When it’s Hellfire all around you, and it’s freezing slush below,
Or you pace in rain and darkness, with Old Death, and “Sentry Go”—
Feel a cold determination that makes all but Now a blank;
That’s half foreign to your nature, and half foreign to your rank?
It is Wellington, where French is, who has broken Heaven’s trenches,
With his purple-blooded captains (who used purple language then)
Come to strengthen with his spirit all the coolness you inherit—
He who took the scum of Europe, and who trained them to be Men.
Henry Lawson

Latest Urdu Poetry

A mountain was saying this to a squirrel
'Commit suicide if you have self-respect

You are insign

Tumko barish pasand hai. mujhe barish me TUM,
Tumko hasna pasand hai. mujhe hastey hue TUM,

Tumk

Ab meri baat maane to naa le ishq ka naaam,
Tu ne dukh ae dil-e-nakaam bohat sa paaya..

Chalo Acha Huwa Eid Ab K Bhi Tanha Guzri.

Gale Mil K Bahut Rote Jo Tum Aa Jaatay..!!

Apne hone ka pata de dena
kabhi guzro to sada de dena

yaad Aa jaon ibadat main Agar
hath utha k

Ajeeb Andhera Hai ishq Teri MEHFIL Me...!!!
Hum Ne DIL Bhi Jalaya To ROSHNI Na Hoi.

Saans lene se bhi teri yaad aati hai,
Har saans mein teri khushboo bas jati hai,

Kese kahoon ki

Mujh Mein Ab Mera Je Nahi Lgta..!!
Or Sitam Ye Ke Mera Ji Hi Nahi..!!

Haye wO ShOuQ JO Nahi Th

Up! up! my Friend, and quit your books;
Or surely you'll grow double:
Up! up! my Friend, and cle

Usko Mera Halka Sa Ehsas To Hai, ,
Bedard Sahi WO Mera Hamraz To Hai, ,
Wo Aye Na Aye Mere Pas Lek

Chat pe taang ke neeli bati agay peechay hooter shooter,
Aankhen bhooki, paitt jahanum, waah re aab

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt

Ashk Aankhon Mein Chhupatay Huway Thak Jata Hun..

Bojh Paani Ka Uthaatay Huway Thak Jaata Hun..

TERE SABHI GHAMON KO SAMAIT LOON,
MIEN TUJHE ITNA PYAR DOON,
TERI UDAASIYON KO MITA K TERI HAR SHA

Qabil-e-Daad Ye Ankhain Hain K In Ankhon Se,

Khud Hi Pa-Maal Hue Khud Hi Tamasha Dekha...

Deep tha ya taara kyaa jaane,
Dil mei kyun duuba kya jaane,
Gul pr kya kuch beet gayi hai,
Albela

Hassti ko mohabbat main fanaa kon karega,
Yeh farzz zamane main adaa kon karega,
Haathon ko lakeer

Na phool thay na chaman tha na aashiyana tha,
Choottay aseer to badlaa hua zamaana tha..

Humne to Muhabbat Chordi Lekin

Muhabbat ne hum ko kahin ka nahi Chora

Stanza (7)

Hum Jo Jeete The To Jnagon Ki Musibat Ke Liye
Aur Merte The Tere Naam Ki Azmat Ke Liy

Urdu Poetry

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