Futility By Wilfred Owen D7 D6 Move him into the sun— Am7 Gm9 Gently its touch awoke him once, Am7 Ddim D* Am7 At home, whispering of fields half-sown. D7 D6 Always it woke him, even in France, Am7 Gm9 Until this morning and this snow. Am7 If anything might rouse him now Ddim D* Am7 Gm7 The kind old sun will know. Fmaj7 Dm7 Think how it wakes the seeds— Gm7 Fm7 Woke once the clays of a cold star. Bb Am7 D Are limbs, so dear-achieved, are sides D7 D6 Full-nerved, still warm, too hard to stir? Am7 Gm9 Was it for this the clay grew tall? Am7 Ddim D* —O what made fatuous sunbeams toil Am7 To break earth's sleep at all? D7: xx0768 D6: xx0767 Am7: 575555 G9: 353335 Ddim: xx0 10 98 D*: xx0 10 97 Fmaj7: xx3210 Dm7: xx0 10 10 8 Fm7: 131111 Bb: x13331 Am7 x02010 D: xx0232

The Unknown Bird By Edward Thomas Em Bm Em Bm Three lovely notes he whistled, too soft to be heard F#m Bm If others sang; but others never sang F#m Em In the great beech-wood all that May and June. Em Bm Em Bm No one saw him: I alone could hear him F#m Bm Though many listened. Was it but four years F# Ago? or five? He never came again. C#m F# Oftenest when I heard him I was alone, C#m F# Nor could I ever make another hear. D A La-la-la! he called, seeming far-off— Bm C#m D F#m As if a cock crowed past the edge of the world, C#m F#m C#m F#m As if the bird or I were in a dream. D A Yet that he travelled through the trees and sometimes Bm C#m D F#m Neared me, was plain, though somehow distant still C#m F#m C#m F#m He sounded. All the proof is—I told men Em Bm Em Bm What I had heard. Instr: Em Bm Em Bm F#m Bm F#m Em Em Bm I never knew a voice, Em Bm Man, beast, or bird, better than this. I told F#m Em F#m Bm The naturalists; but neither had they heard Em Bm Anything like the notes that did so haunt me, Em Bm I had them clear by heart and have them still. F#m Bm F# Four years, or five, have made no difference. Then C#m F# C#m F# As now that La-la-la! was bodiless sweet: D A Sad more than joyful it was, if I must say Bm C#m That it was one or other, but if sad D F#m 'Twas sad only with joy too, too far off C#m F#m C#m F#m For me to taste it. But I cannot tell Em Bm Em Bm If truly never anything but fair C#m F# C#m F# The days were when he sang, as now they seem. D A This surely I know, that I who listened then, Bm C#m D F#m Happy sometimes, sometimes suffering C#m F#m C#m F#m Em Bm Em Bm A heavy body and a heavy heart, Em Bm Em Bm Now straightway, if I think of it, become F#m Bm F# Light as that bird wandering beyond my shore.

During Wind and Rain (Thomas Hardy) C G They sing their dearest songs— Am Em He, she, all of them—yea, Bm Em Bm Treble and tenor and bass, A And one to play; C#m B With the candles mooning each face. . . . D F#m Ah, no; the years O! A Em Bm Em How the sick leaves reel down in throngs! They clear the creeping moss— Elders and juniors—aye, Making the pathways neat And the garden gay; And they build a shady seat. . . . Ah, no; the years, the years, See, the white storm-birds wing across. They are blithely breakfasting all— Men and maidens—yea, Under the summer tree, With a glimpse of the bay, While pet fowl come to the knee. . . . Ah, no; the years O! And the rotten rose is ript from the wall. They change to a high new house, He, she, all of them—aye, Clocks and carpets and chairs On the lawn all day, And brightest things that are theirs. . . . Ah, no; the years, the years; Down their carved names the rain-drop ploughs.

The Cold Heaven By William Butler Yeats Am7 - Bm7 x2 Suddenly I saw the cold and rook-delighting heaven Am7 Em Am7 - Bm7 That seemed as though ice burned and was but the more ice, Am7 - Bm7 x2 And thereupon imagination and heart were driven C G Am7 So wild that every casual thought of that and this D Am7 D Am7 Vanished, and left but memories, that should be out of season C G Am7 With the hot blood of youth, of love crossed long ago; Am7 - Bm7 x2 And I took all the blame out of all sense and reason, C G Am7 Until I cried and trembled and rocked to and fro, D Am7 D Am7 Riddled with light. Ah! when the ghost begins to quicken, C G Am7 Confusion of the death-bed over, is it sent D Am7 D Am7 Out naked on the roads, as the books say, and stricken C G B7 By the injustice of the skies for punishment?

Lapis Lazuli By William Butler Yeats (for Harry Clifton) Dm/A Amaj7 F Am7 I have heard that hysterical women say Cmaj7 Bbmaj7 Am7 They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow, Dm/A Amaj7 F Am7 Of poets that are always gay, Cmaj7 Bbmaj7 Am7 For everybody knows or else should know Gm7 C Am7 Dm That if nothing drastic is done Gm7 C F Dm Aeroplane and Zeppelin will come out, Gm7 C Am7 Dm Pitch like King Billy bomb-balls in Gm7 Am Bb C Until the town lie beaten flat. All perform their tragic play, There struts Hamlet, there is Lear, That's Ophelia, that Cordelia; Yet they, should the last scene be there, The great stage curtain about to drop, If worthy their prominent part in the play, Do not break up their lines to weep. They know that Hamlet and Lear are gay; Em Bm Em Bm Gaiety transfiguring all that dread. C F B7 All men have aimed at, found and lost; C D Em Am Black out; Heaven blazing into the head: C G Am7 Tragedy wrought to its uttermost. Em Bm Em Bm Though Hamlet rambles and Lear rages, C F B7 And all the drop scenes drop at once C D Em Am Upon a hundred thousand stages, C G B7 It cannot grow by an inch or an ounce. On their own feet they came, or on shipboard, Camel-back, horse-back, ass-back, mule-back, Old civilisations put to the sword. Then they and their wisdom went to rack: No handiwork of Callimachus Who handled marble as if it were bronze, Made draperies that seemed to rise When sea-wind swept the corner, stands; His long lamp chimney shaped like the stem Of a slender palm, stood but a day; All things fall and are built again And those that build them again are gay. Two Chinamen, behind them a third, Are carved in Lapis Lazuli, Over them flies a long-legged bird A symbol of longevity; The third, doubtless a serving-man, Carries a musical instrument. Every discolouration of the stone, Every accidental crack or dent Seems a water-course or an avalanche, Or lofty slope where it still snows Though doubtless plum or cherry-branch Sweetens the little half-way house Those Chinamen climb towards, and I Delight to imagine them seated there; There, on the mountain and the sky, On all the tragic scene they stare. One asks for mournful melodies; Accomplished fingers begin to play. Their eyes mid many wrinkles, their eyes, Their ancient, glittering eyes, are gay. Dm/A: x0323x Amaj7 x-212x F: xx35x5 Am7 x02010 Cmaj7: x3545x Bbmaj7: x1323x

Five Subjects for Frequent Recollection D - Dmaj7 F#m A G Bm I am of the nature to age, I have not gone beyond ageing. Bm A Em G Bm I am of the nature to sicken, I have not gone beyond sickness. A G G A Bm I am of the nature to die, I have not gone beyond dying. C#m A D E All that is mine, beloved and pleasing, F#m A Bm C#m will become otherwise, will become separated from me. F#m A Bm C#7 D A Bm A C#m I am the owner of my kamma, heir to my kamma, born of my Bm D A C#7 kamma,related to my kamma, abide supported by my kamma. D E F#m Bm A Whatever kamma I shall do, for good or for ill, of G F#m that I will be the heir. Em Bm B7 Thus we should frequently recollect.

Cold Iron E D A Gold is for the mistress -- silver for the maid -- F#m C#m F#m C#m Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade." D A E F#m "Good!" said the Baron, sitting in his hall, E D F#m D "But Iron -- Cold Iron -- is master of them all." So he made rebellion 'gainst the King his liege, Camped before his citadel and summoned it to siege. "Nay!" said the cannoneer on the castle wall, "But Iron -- Cold Iron -- shall be master of you all!" G D A D Woe for the Baron and his knights so strong, G D A Bm When the cruel cannon-balls laid 'em all along; G D A D He was taken prisoner, he was cast in thrall, G A D A And Iron -- Cold Iron -- was master of it all! Yet his King spake kindly (ah, how kind a Lord!) "What if I release thee now and give thee back thy sword?" "Nay!" said the Baron, "mock not at my fall, For Iron -- Cold Iron -- is master of men all." "Tears are for the craven, prayers are for the clown -- Halters for the silly neck that cannot keep a crown." "As my loss is grievous, so my hope is small, For Iron -- Cold Iron -- must be master of men all!" Yet his King made answer (few such Kings there be!) "Here is Bread and here is Wine -- sit and sup with me. Eat and drink in Mary's Name, the whiles I do recall How Iron -- Cold Iron -- can be master of men all!" He took the Wine and blessed it. He blessed and brake the Bread. With His own Hands He served Them, and presently He said: "See! These Hands they pierced with nails, outside My city wall, Show Iron -- Cold Iron -- to be master of men all." "Wounds are for the desperate, blows are for the strong. Balm and oil for weary hearts all cut and bruised with wrong. I forgive thy treason -- I redeem thy fall -- For Iron -- Cold Iron -- must be master of men all!" "Crowns are for the valiant -- sceptres for the bold! Thrones and powers for mighty men who dare to take and hold!" "Nay!" said the Baron, kneeling in his hall, "But Iron -- Cold Iron -- is master of men all! Iron out of Calvary is master of men all!"

The Pelican Chorus (Edward Lear) King and Queen of the Pelicans we; No other Birds so grand we see! None but we have feet like fins! With lovely leathery throats and chins! Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee! We think no Birds so happy as we! Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill! We think so then, and we thought so still! We live on the Nile. The Nile we love. By night we sleep on the cliffs above; By day we fish, and at eve we stand On long bare islands of yellow sand. And when the sun sinks slowly down And the great rock walls grow dark and brown, Where the purple river rolls fast and dim And the Ivory Ibis starlike skim, Wing to wing we dance around,-- Stamping our feet with a flumpy sound,-- Opening our mouths as Pelicans ought, And this is the song we nighly snort;-- Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee! We think no Birds so happy as we! Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill! We think so then, and we thought so still! Last year came out our daughter, Dell; And all the Birds received her well. To do her honour, a feast we made For every bird that can swim or wade. Herons and Gulls, and Cormorants black, Cranes, and flamingoes with scarlet back, Plovers and Storks, and Geese in clouds, Swans and Dilberry Ducks in crowds. Thousands of Birds in wondrous flight! They ate and drank and danced all night, And echoing back from the rocks you heard Multitude-echoes from Bird to bird,-- Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee! We think no Birds so happy as we! Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill! We think so then, and we thought so still! Yes, they came; and among the rest, The King of the Cranes all grandly dressed. Such a lovely tail! Its feathers float between the ends of his blue dress-coat; With pea-green trowsers all so neat, And a delicate frill to hide his feet,-- (For though no one speaks of it, every one knows, He has got no webs between his toes!) As soon as he saw our Daughter Dell, In violent love that Crane King fell,-- On seeing her waddling form so fair, With a wreath of shrimps in her short white hair. And before the end of the next long day, Our Dell had given her heart away; For the King of the Cranes had won that heart, With a Crocodile's egg and a large fish-tart. She vowed to marry the King of the Cranes, Leaving the Nile for stranges plains; And away they flew in a gathering crowd Of endless birds in a lengthening cloud. Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee! We think no Birds so happy as we! Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill! We think so then, and we thought so still! And far away in the twilight sky, We heard them singing a lessening cry,-- Farther and farther till out of sight, And we stood alone in thesilent night! Often since, in the nights of June, We sit on the sand and watch the moon;-- She has gone to the great Gromboolian plain, And we probably never shall meet again! Oft, in the long still nights of June, We sit on the rocks and watch the moon;-- ----She dwells by the streams of the Chankly Bore, And we probably never shall see her more. Ploffskin, Pluffskin, Pelican jee! We think no Birds so happy as we! Plumpskin, Ploshkin, Pelican jill! We think so then, and we thought so still! Verses: 1,3,5,7,9,11,13,15,17: C G Am Em, Am Em Am Em, F G Am F, Dm Am G Am [a] Verses: 2,6,10,16,20: Bb C Dm Am,Dm Am Bb C, Bb C Dm Gm, Dm Bb C Dm [b] Verses 4,8,12,18: Em Am, Em Am, Bb C Dm Am, F C G Am [c] Verses 14,19: Dm Am, Dm Am G A, Am F G, Am F C G [d] Instrumental at end: a c d b

The Two Old Bachelors (Edward Lear) Am Em-G Am Em Two old Bachelors were living in one house; Am Em-G Am E7 One caught a Muffin, the other caught a Mouse. Am Em-G Am Em Said he who caught the Muffin to him who caught the Mouse,-- ' Am Em-G Am E7 This happens just in time! For we've nothing in the house, C G Am Em 'Save a tiny slice of lemon nd a teaspoonful of honey, C G Am E7 'And what to do for dinner -- since we haven't any money? F C Dm Am 'And what can we expect if we haven't any dinner, F C G E7 'But to loose our teeth and eyelashes and keep on growing thinner?' Said he who caught the Mouse to him who caught the Muffin,-- 'We might cook this little Mouse, if we had only some Stuffin'! 'If we had but Sage andOnion we could do extremely well, 'But how to get that Stuffin' it is difficult to tell'-- Those two old Bachelors ran quickly to the town And asked for Sage and Onions as they wandered up and down; They borrowed two large Onions, but no Sage was to be found In the Shops, or in the Market, or in all the Gardens round. But some one said, -- 'A hill there is, a little to the north, 'And to its purpledicular top a narrow way leads forth;-- 'And there among the rugged rocks abides an ancient Sage,-- 'An earnest Man, who reads all day a most perplexing page. 'Climb up, and seize him by the toes! -- all studious as he sits,-- 'And pull him down, -- and chop him into endless little bits! 'Then mix him with your Onion, (cut up likewise into Scraps,)-- 'When your Stuffin' will be ready -- and very good: perhaps.' Those two old Bachelors without loss of time The nearly purpledicular crags at once began to climb; And at the top, among the rocks, all seated in a nook, They saw that Sage, a reading of a most enormous book. A C#m D A 'You earnest Sage!' aloud they cried, 'your book you've read enough in!-- A G F#m B7 'We wish to chop you into bits to mix you into Stuffin'!'-- Em Bm C G But that old Sage looked calmly up, and with his awful book, Am Em Am E7 At those two Bachelors' bald heads a certain aim he took;-- C G Am Em and over crag and precipice they rolled promiscuous down,-- C G F E7 At once they rolled, and never stopped in lane or field or town,-- And when they reached their house, they found (besides their want of Stuffin',) The Mouse had fled; -- and, previously, had eaten up the Muffin. They left their home in silence by the once convivial door. And from that hour those Bachelors were never heard of more.

The Dutch in the Medway (Rudyard Kipling) 1664-72 E F#m If wars were won by feasting, A B Or victory by song, C#m B Or safety found in sleeping sound, F#m A How England would be strong! C#m B But honour and dominion A G#m Are not maintained so. E F#m They're only got by sword and shot, A B And this the Dutchmen know! The moneys that should feed us You spend on your delight, How can you then have sailor-men To aid you in your fight? Our fish and cheese are rotten, Which makes the scurvy grow-- We cannot serve you if we starve, And this the Dutchmen know! Our ships in every harbour Be neither whole nor sound, And, when we seek to mend a leak, No oakum can be found; Or, if it is, the caulkers, And carpenters also, For lack of pay have gone away, And this the Dutchmen know! Mere powder, guns, and bullets, We scarce can get at all; Their price was spent in merriment And revel at Whitehall, While we in tattered doublets From ship to ship must row, Beseeching friends for odds and ends-- And this the Dutchmen know! No King will heed our warnings, No Court will pay our claims-- Our King and Court for their disport Do sell the very Thames! For, now De Ruyter's topsails Off naked Chatham show, We dare not meet him with our fleet-- And this the Dutchmen know!