Anthem for Doomed Youth

by Wilfred Owen

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
        —Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
        Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,—
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
        Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
        The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

See the Sky About to Rain

by Neil Young

See the sky about to rain
Broken clouds and rain
Locomotive, pull the train
Whistle blowing through my brain

Signals curling on an open plain
Rolling down the track again
See the sky about to rain

Some are bound for happiness
Some are bound to glory
Some are bound to live with less
Who can tell your story?

I was down in Dixie Land
Played a silver fiddle
Played it loud and then the man
Broke it down the middle
See the sky about to rain

Reelin' in the Years

by Donald Fagen

Your everlasting summer, and you can see it fading fast
So you grab a piece of something that you think is going to last
You wouldn't know a diamond if you held it in your hand
The things you think are precious, I can't understand

Are you reelin' in the years?
Stowin' away the time?
Are you gatherin' up the tears?
Have you had enough of mine?

You've been telling me you're a genius since you were seventeen
In all the time I've known you I still don't know what you mean
The weekend at the college didn't turn out like you planned
The things that pass for knowledge, I can't understand

I've spent a lot of money, and I've spent a lot of time
The trip we made to Hollywood is etched upon my mind
After all the things we've done and seen, you find another man
The things you think are useless, I can't understand

Love

by Sara Groves

Love, I made it mine
I made it small
I made it blind
I followed heart
Only to find
It wasn't love

Love of songs in pen
Love of movie endings
Takes out the break
Leaves out the bend
And misses love

Love not of you
Love not of me
Come hold us up
Come set us free
Not as we know it
But as it can be

Love's reality
Is not of passing bravery
It holds out hope
Beyond what's seen
The hope of love

The Dry Salvages (Pt. IV)

[Pt. III here]
by T.S. Eliot

Lady, whose shrine stands on the promontory,
Pray for all those who are in ships, those
Whose business has to do with fish, and
Those concerned with every lawful traffic
And those who conduct them.

Repeat a prayer also on behalf of
Women who have seen their sons or husbands
Setting forth, and not returning:
Figlia del tuo figlio,
Queen of Heaven.

Also pray for those who were in ships, and
Ended their voyage on the sand, in the sea's lips
Or in the dark throat which will not reject them
Or wherever cannot reach them the sound of the sea bell's
Perpetual angelus.

[Pt. V here]

I'll Be Your Mirror

by Lou Reed

I'll be your mirror
Reflect what you are
In case you don't know
I'll be the wind
The rain and the sunset
The light on your door
To show that you're home

When you think the night has seen your mind
That inside you're twisted and unkind
Let me stand to show that you are blind
Please put down your hands
'Cause I see you

I find it hard
To believe you don't know
The beauty you are
But if you don't
Let me be your eyes
A hand in your darkness
So you won't be afraid

How Great Thou Art

by Carl G. Boberg
Trans. Stuart K. Hine

O Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works thy hands have made,
I see the stars, I hear the mighty thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!

When through the woods and forest glades I wander
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees,
When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur,
And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!

And when I think that God, his Son not sparing,
Sent him to die, I scarce can take it in,
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!
Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to thee:
How great thou art! How great thou art!

When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then shall I bow in humble adoration,
And there proclaim, My God, how great thou art!