Perchance the chemist is already damned and the guardian the blackest.
quote by Lewis Gilbert
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Damned
(young - young)
Dont smoke dont fight dont light no cigarettes
Or else youll wind up in the can
No jokes no rights sit tight dont fool around
You are a guest of uncle sam
Stand up look right dont slouch and stand at ease
Allow no sex above the knees
When I snap you jump into the master plan
Ill be damned
Well Ill be damned
Ill be damned if I drink or smoke
Damned if I steal your joke
Ill be damned if I go for broke
Damned if I do
Damned if I dont
Dont talk dont fool dont try to mess around
Ill make a monkey outta you
You sign your name right on that dotted line boy
Ill be damned
Ill be damned if I drink or smoke
Damned if I steal your joke
Ill be damned if I go for broke
Damned if I do
And damned if I dont, yeah
Come on
Ill be damned if I drink or smoke
Damned if I steal your joke
Ill be damned if I go for broke
Im damned if I do
Im damned if I dont
Ill be damned if I drink or smoke
Damned if I steal your joke
Ill be damned if I go for broke
Im damned if I do
Im damned if I dont
Ill be damned
Ill be damned
Ill be damned
Ill be damned
Ill be damned
Ill be damned
2000, j. albert & son, pty.
song performed by AC-DC
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- quotes about illness
- quotes about humor
- quotes about tobacco
- quotes about monkeys
- quotes about sex
- quotes about boys
- quotes about wind
- quotes about seasons
- quotes about dance
Damned
Don't smoke don't fight don't light no cigarettes
Or else you'll wind up in the can
No jokes no rights sit tight don't fool around
You are a guest of Uncle Sam
Stand up look right don't slouch and stand at ease
Allow no sex above the knees
When I snap you jump into the master plan
I'll be damned
Well I'll be damned
I'll be damned if I drink or smoke
Damned if I steal your joke
I'll be damned if I go for broke
Damned if I do
Damned if I don't
Don't talk don't fool don't try to mess around
I'll make a monkey outta you
You sign your name right on that dotted line boy
I'll be damned
I'll be damned if I drink or smoke
Damned if I steal your joke
I'll be damned if I go for broke
Damned if I do
And damned if I don't
I'll be damned if I drink or smoke
Damned if I steal your joke
I'll be damned if I go for broke
I'm damned if I do
I'm damned if I don't
I'll be damned if I drink or smoke
Damned if I steal your joke
I'll be damned if I go for broke
I'm damned if I do
I'm damned if I don't
I'll be damned (6x)
song performed by AC/DC from Stiff Upper Lip
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The Place of the Damned
All folks who pretend to religion and grace,
Allow there's a HELL, but dispute of the place:
But, if HELL may by logical rules be defined
The place of the damned -I'll tell you my mind.
Wherever the damned do chiefly abound,
Most certainly there is HELL to be found:
Damned poets, damned critics, damned blockheads, damned knaves,
Damned senators bribed, damned prostitute slaves;
Damned lawyers and judges, damned lords and damned squires;
Damned spies and informers, damned friends and damned liars;
Damned villains, corrupted in every station;
Damned time-serving priests all over the nation;
And into the bargain I'll readily give you
Damned ignorant prelates, and counsellors privy.
Then let us no longer by parsons be flammed,
For we know by these marks the place of the damned:
And HELL to be sure is at Paris or Rome.
How happy for us that it is not at home!
poem by Jonathan Swift
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- quotes about corruption
- quotes about lies
- quotes about slavery
- quotes about Rome
- quotes about writers
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- quotes about nations
- quotes about Thanksgiving
Peter Bell The Third
BY MICHING MALLECHO, Esq.
Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!
Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.
Ophelia.-What means this, my lord?
Hamlet.-Marry, this is Miching Mallecho; it means mischief.
~Shakespeare.
PROLOGUE
Pet er Bells, one, two and three,
O'er the wide world wandering be.-
First, the antenatal Peter,
Wrapped in weeds of the same metre,
The so-long-predestined raiment
Clothed in which to walk his way meant
The second Peter; whose ambition
Is to link the proposition,
As the mean of two extremes-
(This was learned from Aldric's themes)
Shielding from the guilt of schism
The orthodoxal syllogism;
The First Peter-he who was
Like the shadow in the glass
Of the second, yet unripe,
His substantial antitype.-
Then came Peter Bell the Second,
Who henceforward must be reckoned
The body of a double soul,
And that portion of the whole
Without which the rest would seem
Ends of a disjointed dream.-
And the Third is he who has
O'er the grave been forced to pass
To the other side, which is,-
Go and try else,-just like this.
Peter Bell the First was Peter
Smugger, milder, softer, neater,
Like the soul before it is
Born from that world into this.
The next Peter Bell was he,
Predevote, like you and me,
To good or evil as may come;
His was the severer doom,-
[...] Read more
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Guardian Angel
I have a guardian angel
keep him in my head
When I'm afraid and alone
I call him to my bed
I have a guardian angel
who keeps bad things from me
The only way to ruin it would be for me
not to trust me
The only way to ruin it would be for me
not to trust me
I have a guardian angel
who's often saved my life
Through malevolent storms and crystal drums
the angel on my right
Has lifted me up and set me down
always showing me what's right
And if my instinct proved me wrong
the angel set it right
And if my instinct proved me wrong
the angel set it right
Have a guardian angel
I keep him in my head
And when I'm having nightmares
he shows me dreams instead
I have a ring, I have a dress
I have an empty shell
By the books below tea cups
I've kept a kind of hell
By the books below tea cups
I've kept a kind of hell
Panic and anxiety
so often in my head
But I had a guardian angel
who took care of me instead
The champagne cork the nightlight owl
a raven and a duck
The seed of pining parents
and your despairing love
The seed of pining parents
and your despairing love
Love and luck both have charmed lives
can change all things about
I had a guardian angel
that's what this is all about
I have a guardian angel
I keep him in my head
When I'm alone and become afraid
he saved my life instead
When I'm alone and become afraid
he saved my life instead
[...] Read more
song performed by Lou Reed
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Damned if I Do
Damned if i do
damned if i dont
Damned if i will
Damned if i wont
One thinks im a genius
And should start a study
Another that i run
Dont settle down in a hurry
One reckons i'm a debater
Another thinks a preacher
Some say a scientist
Yet others a lecturer
They pull me this way
And they pull me that way
They all have different ideas
They all have their say
If i step out their ideas
Pull out your guns
Start shooting me up
Now this here is just fun
If i grow out wrong
By their standards
Watch them pull a scalpel
And snip away the 'flaws'
One wants me this way
One wants me the other
Catch twenty two, lucky you
Why should u even bother?
damned if i do
Damned uf i dont
Damned if u will
Damned if i wont
Stuck out in a desert
On my own, so alone
Ducking bullets and knives
Stumbling over stones
Im tired of all the ideas
Tired of being torn apart
Tired of others running my life
Of being told where im at
I think its time to choose
Pick my own way
Choose who i will follow
Choose where i will stay
If im damned if i do
And damned if i dont
I choose my own life
Im picking will or wont
Cause this is my life
Its what i do that matters
[...] Read more
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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A Fable
ONE day a sage knocked at a chemist's door,
Bringing a curious compound to explore.--
'Behold ! said he, as from his vest he drew it,
'This little treasure in a golden cruet :
A life, a long one, for my locks are grey,
In ceaseless toil has slowly passed away,
To gain that treasure, now my search must stop,
And see, I have but saved this little drop !
To know the worth and nature of the prize,
I bring it here for you to analyze.
The best philosopher could never quite
Its origin and essence bring to light ;
But you, they say, by some mysterious arts,
Reduce all substances to simple parts :
--Your nomenclature differs, sir, from his,
We call it happiness, --and here it is.'
And now the learned chemist strove to guess
With what this curious stuff would coalesce :
First sprinkled on a layer of golden dust,
But this recoiled, and seemed to gender rust ;
Now sundry essences in turn he tries,
Distilled from all that golden dust supplies--
--Castles and villas, titles, vassals, land,
Coaches, and curricles, and fours-in-hand,
Silks, jewels, equipages, parties, plays,
Madeira, venison, turtle-soup, and praise ;--
But strove in vain a union to produce
With one of these, and that small drop of juice ;
As though impatient of the vain essay,
It did but effervesce and fume away.
With more success the chemist next imparts
Extracts from the belles lettres and the arts.
No sooner do they reach it, than he sees
It has some small affinity with these ;
But yet, his nicest skill could not prevent
A large residuum of discontent.
Two curious phials next he brings to view,
The first bright green, the next of roseate hue ;
And first unstopped them with the greatest care,
For when exposed to atmospheric air
They frequently evaporate, and vain
All efforts then to bottle them again.
Essence of friendship from the former flows ;
And though the drop it did not decompose,
The chemist said, it rather seemed to fix,
Or float upon the surface, than to mix.
Long from the next a trembling drop suspends,
[...] Read more
poem by Jane Taylor
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Bat Out Of Hell (edit)
The sirens are screaming and the fires are howling,
way down in the valley tonight.
There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye,
and a blade shining oh so bright.
There's evil in the air and there's thunder in sky,
and A killer's on the bloodshot streets.
Oh and down in the tunnel where the deadly are rising,
Oh I swear I saw a young boy down in the gutter,
He was starting to foam in the heat.
Oh baby you're the only thing in this whole world,
that's pure and good and right.
And wherever you are and wherever you go,
there's always gonna be some light.
But I gotta get out,
I gotta break it out now,
Before the final crack of dawn.
So we gotta make the most of our one night together.
When it's over you know,
We'll both be so alone.
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the morning comes.
When the night is over
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone gone gone.
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the morning comes.
But when the day is done and the sun goes down,
and the moonlights shining through,
Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven,
I'll come crawling on back to you.
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram,
on a silver black phantom bike.
When the metal is hot and the engine is hungry,
and we're all about to see the light.
Nothing ever grows in this rotting old hole.
Everything is stunted and lost.
And nothing really rocks
And nothing really rolls
And nothing's ever worth the cost.
And I know that I'm damned if I never get out,
And maybe I'm damned if I do,
But with every other beat I've got left in my heart,
You know I'd rather be damned with you.
If I gotta be damned you know I wanns be damned,
dancing through the night with you.
If I gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned.
Gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned.
If I gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned,
Dancing through the night
Dancing through the night
[...] Read more
song performed by Meat Loaf
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Dear Guardian Angel
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for watching over me
Dear Guardian Angel
You are oh so sweet
You protect me from the wrong
And lead me to the right
If I’m lost in the dark
You take me to the light
Dear Guardian Angel
Why do you care?
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for always being there
You take my hand
And wipe away my tears
You hold me close
And fight away my fears
Dear Guardian Angel
Please stay close to me
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you, I know you’ll always believe
You watch me sleeping quietly
You caress my face lovingly
You brush my bangs out of my eyes
You give me sunny skies
Dear Guardian Angel
Can I make it up to you?
Dear Guardian Angel
Thank you for always being true
Guardian Angel
I thank you
Guardian Angel…
I thank you
poem by Tyra Falconwing
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Damned If I Do
(lead vocal - lenny zakatek)
I aint got a heart of stone
Im hurtin more now than Ive ever known
If you mean the things you said
Im gonna wind up outa my head
Cant sleep alone at night
I just cant seem to get it right
Damned if I do
Damned if I dont but I love you
I dont want to tie you down
Dont need a reason to have you around
But each time you walk away
Dont be suprised if I ask you to stay
Cant sleep alone at night
I just cant seem to get it right
Damned if I do
And Im damned if I dont but I love you
I said Im damned if I do
And Im damned if I dont cause I love you
I aint got a heart of stone
You havent left me a mind of my own
But its got such a hold on me
I dont think I could ever be free
How can I survive
Im fighting to keep myself alive
Im damned if I do
Damned if I dont but I love you
Cant seem to see the light
Ive done everything but I cant get it right
Damned if I do
Damned if I dont but I love you
song performed by Alan Parsons Project
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Guardian Angels
Brothers; even those of you who are already in the sear and yellow leaf, and full of years and iniquity,
Sometimes, I doubt not, let your thoughts go back to those days of antiquity
When mother tucked you into your little bed.
After your little prayers were said;
And, having said goodnight,
She most inconsiderately took away the light.
Then came, my brothers, that dread half-hour in the day of a child;
When your mind was filled with weird imaginings and fancies wild
Of Bogey-men and Hobgoblins, Ogres and Demons; so that, for a space, you lay
Filled with a child's vague fear of the dark, and longing for the day.
Then, to comfort you, there came the thought
That guardian angels, as you had been taught,
Hovered ever near
To watch over timid little boys and girls and still their fear.
Is not that what other said?
And, in your childish mind you pictured a feathered friend roosting benevolently
at the foot of your bed.
Then were you filled with solace deep;
You sighed contentedly and went to sleep.
Brother:
I would speak to you of another kind of mother;
Of our political mamma or historical mater:
Mrs. Britannia, to wit, who lives on the other side of the equator.
You have doubtless seen her pictured upon certain coins of the realm,
Sitting on the sharp edge of a shield, holding a picthfork, and wearing an absurd
and elaborate helm.
That is the lady; our dear old mum;
Mother of a large and parti-colored family that has given her much trouble and
promises more in the years to come.
Hitherto she has tucked us into bed.
And, for a trifling cash consideration, to allay our dread,
Has, so to speak, left us the light
In the shape of a few more or less efficient warships that might or might not be
of use in a fight;
But that was neither here nor there
So long as they served their purpose, and, like a candle of childhood's days,
dissipated the shadows and the attendant thoughts that scare.
But, behold, my brother, we are no longer an infant nation.
We have doffed our swaddling clothes, and have gone into pants, and top-hats,
and motor-coats, and split-skirts, and other habilments of adult
civilisation.
We are no longer young enough to pet and fondle, to nurse and bounce and dandle;
And, behold, mother has taken away the candle!
This is well enough;
And nobody would be complaining if the dear old lady didn't try to fill us up with
the stuff
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Damned If I Do
Damned if I do
Tell me whats up with the teenage indecision
Im mad in love but u wont give me permission
U said, be here at 9
Then scream at me 4 not giving u more time, more time
Damned if I do, damned if I dont
U say u want me 2 love u
But when I try, u wont
Maybe, maybe we should say goodbye
Damned if I do
Tell me the truth, how many u do it 2?
I smell vermouth everytime I dont get 2 kiss u
Enoughs enough
If u dont want my lovin, then Ill give up, Ill give up
Chorus:
Damned if I do, damned if I dont
U say u want me 2 love u
But when I try, u wont
Baby, maybe we should say goodbye
Goodbye
Damned if I dont try 2 make u see yourself the way I do
Open minded, worldly, always ready 4 taboo
Tell me whats up, are we gonna go 2 heaven?
Ill fill your cup, I wont do it like kevin
Chorus
Damned if I do, damned if I dont
Baby, maybe we should say goodbye
Maybe we should say, I do
T siempre ests hablando de lo qu tenemos qu hacer
{ure always speaking about what we should do}
Bueno, t sabes
{well, u know}
Pero lo qu tienes qu hacer
{but what u should do}
Qu? {what? }
Es buscarte una menta para la boca porque apestas!
{is get a breath mint because your mouth stinks!}
Qu es lo qu t ests diciendo?
{what are u saying? }
Por favor... cometelas todas!
{please... eat them all!}
A mi no me apesta la boca!
{my breath doesnt stink!}
song performed by Prince
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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The Sex Confessions
The Bed
Your Mouth
My Touch
Our Lips
It’s a fever
In the night
Forbidden
Forbidden
Desecr ated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever
The Flame
Your Cries
My Salt
Our Wounds
It’s a fever
In the night
Forbidden
Forbidden
Desecrated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever
The Earth
Your Rain
My Seed
Our Life
It’s a fever
In the night
Forbidden
Forbidden
Desecrated and damned together
Desecrated and damned forever
One naked flesh, we’ll die together
One naked flesh, making love forever
Hell
Regrets
Confessions
[...] Read more
poem by Catman Cohen
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The City of Dreadful Night
Per me si va nella citta dolente.
--Dante
Poi di tanto adoprar, di tanti moti
D'ogni celeste, ogni terrena cosa,
Girando senza posa,
Per tornar sempre la donde son mosse;
Uso alcuno, alcun frutto
Indovinar non so.
Sola nel mondo eterna, a cui si volve
Ogni creata cosa,
In te, morte, si posa
Nostra ignuda natura;
Lieta no, ma sicura
Dell' antico dolor . . .
Pero ch' esser beato
Nega ai mortali e nega a' morti il fato.
--Leopardi
PROEM
Lo, thus, as prostrate, "In the dust I write
My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears."
Yet why evoke the spectres of black night
To blot the sunshine of exultant years?
Why disinter dead faith from mouldering hidden?
Why break the seals of mute despair unbidden,
And wail life's discords into careless ears?
Because a cold rage seizes one at whiles
To show the bitter old and wrinkled truth
Stripped naked of all vesture that beguiles,
False dreams, false hopes, false masks and modes of youth;
Because it gives some sense of power and passion
In helpless innocence to try to fashion
Our woe in living words howe'er uncouth.
Surely I write not for the hopeful young,
Or those who deem their happiness of worth,
Or such as pasture and grow fat among
The shows of life and feel nor doubt nor dearth,
Or pious spirits with a God above them
To sanctify and glorify and love them,
Or sages who foresee a heaven on earth.
For none of these I write, and none of these
Could read the writing if they deigned to try;
[...] Read more
poem by James Thomson
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The Iliad: Book 24
The assembly now broke up and the people went their ways each to his
own ship. There they made ready their supper, and then bethought
them of the blessed boon of sleep; but Achilles still wept for
thinking of his dear comrade, and sleep, before whom all things bow,
could take no hold upon him. This way and that did he turn as he
yearned after the might and manfulness of Patroclus; he thought of all
they had done together, and all they had gone through both on the
field of battle and on the waves of the weary sea. As he dwelt on
these things he wept bitterly and lay now on his side, now on his
back, and now face downwards, till at last he rose and went out as one
distraught to wander upon the seashore. Then, when he saw dawn
breaking over beach and sea, he yoked his horses to his chariot, and
bound the body of Hector behind it that he might drag it about. Thrice
did he drag it round the tomb of the son of Menoetius, and then went
back into his tent, leaving the body on the ground full length and
with its face downwards. But Apollo would not suffer it to be
disfigured, for he pitied the man, dead though he now was; therefore
he shielded him with his golden aegis continually, that he might
take no hurt while Achilles was dragging him.
Thus shamefully did Achilles in his fury dishonour Hector; but the
blessed gods looked down in pity from heaven, and urged Mercury,
slayer of Argus, to steal the body. All were of this mind save only
Juno, Neptune, and Jove's grey-eyed daughter, who persisted in the
hate which they had ever borne towards Ilius with Priam and his
people; for they forgave not the wrong done them by Alexandrus in
disdaining the goddesses who came to him when he was in his
sheepyards, and preferring her who had offered him a wanton to his
ruin.
When, therefore, the morning of the twelfth day had now come,
Phoebus Apollo spoke among the immortals saying, "You gods ought to be
ashamed of yourselves; you are cruel and hard-hearted. Did not
Hector burn you thigh-bones of heifers and of unblemished goats? And
now dare you not rescue even his dead body, for his wife to look upon,
with his mother and child, his father Priam, and his people, who would
forthwith commit him to the flames, and give him his due funeral
rites? So, then, you would all be on the side of mad Achilles, who
knows neither right nor ruth? He is like some savage lion that in
the pride of his great strength and daring springs upon men's flocks
and gorges on them. Even so has Achilles flung aside all pity, and all
that conscience which at once so greatly banes yet greatly boons him
that will heed it. man may lose one far dearer than Achilles has lost-
a son, it may be, or a brother born from his own mother's womb; yet
when he has mourned him and wept over him he will let him bide, for it
takes much sorrow to kill a man; whereas Achilles, now that he has
slain noble Hector, drags him behind his chariot round the tomb of his
comrade. It were better of him, and for him, that he should not do so,
for brave though he be we gods may take it ill that he should vent his
fury upon dead clay."
Juno spoke up in a rage. "This were well," she cried, "O lord of the
silver bow, if you would give like honour to Hector and to Achilles;
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Pharsalia - Book IX: Cato
Yet in those ashes on the Pharian shore,
In that small heap of dust, was not confined
So great a shade; but from the limbs half burnt
And narrow cell sprang forth and sought the sky
Where dwells the Thunderer. Black the space of air
Upreaching to the poles that bear on high
The constellations in their nightly round;
There 'twixt the orbit of the moon and earth
Abide those lofty spirits, half divine,
Who by their blameless lives and fire of soul
Are fit to tolerate the pure expanse
That bounds the lower ether: there shall dwell,
Where nor the monument encased in gold,
Nor richest incense, shall suffice to bring
The buried dead, in union with the spheres,
Pompeius' spirit. When with heavenly light
His soul was filled, first on the wandering stars
And fixed orbs he bent his wondering gaze;
Then saw what darkness veils our earthly day
And scorned the insults heaped upon his corse.
Next o'er Emathian plains he winged his flight,
And ruthless Caesar's standards, and the fleet
Tossed on the deep: in Brutus' blameless breast
Tarried awhile, and roused his angered soul
To reap the vengeance; last possessed the mind
Of haughty Cato.
He while yet the scales
Were poised and balanced, nor the war had given
The world its master, hating both the chiefs,
Had followed Magnus for the Senate's cause
And for his country: since Pharsalia's field
Ran red with carnage, now was all his heart
Bound to Pompeius. Rome in him received
Her guardian; a people's trembling limbs
He cherished with new hope and weapons gave
Back to the craven hands that cast them forth.
Nor yet for empire did he wage the war
Nor fearing slavery: nor in arms achieved
Aught for himself: freedom, since Magnus fell,
The aim of all his host. And lest the foe
In rapid course triumphant should collect
His scattered bands, he sought Corcyra's gulfs
Concealed, and thence in ships unnumbered bore
The fragments of the ruin wrought in Thrace.
Who in such mighty armament had thought
A routed army sailed upon the main
Thronging the sea with keels? Round Malea's cape
And Taenarus open to the shades below
And fair Cythera's isle, th' advancing fleet
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poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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Marmion: Canto V. - The Court
I.
The train has left the hills of Braid;
The barrier guard have open made
(So Lindesay bade) the palisade,
That closed the tented ground;
Their men the warders backward drew,
And carried pikes as they rode through
Into its ample bound.
Fast ran the Scottish warriors there,
Upon the Southern band to stare.
And envy with their wonder rose,
To see such well-appointed foes;
Such length of shaft, such mighty bows,
So huge, that many simply thought,
But for a vaunt such weapons wrought;
And little deemed their force to feel,
Through links of mail, and plates of steel,
When rattling upon Flodden vale,
The clothyard arrows flew like hail.
II.
Nor less did Marmion's skilful view
Glance every line and squadron through;
And much he marvelled one small land
Could marshal forth such various band:
For men-at-arms were here,
Heavily sheathed in mail and plate,
Like iron towers for strength and weight,
On Flemish steeds of bone and height,
With battle-axe and spear.
Young knights and squires, a lighter train,
Practised their chargers on the plain,
By aid of leg, of hand, and rein,
Each warlike feat to show,
To pass, to wheel, the croupe to gain,
The high curvet, that not in vain
The sword sway might descend amain
On foeman's casque below.
He saw the hardy burghers there
March armed, on foot, with faces bare,
For vizor they wore none,
Nor waving plume, nor crest of knight;
But burnished were their corslets bright,
Their brigantines, and gorgets light,
Like very silver shone.
Long pikes they had for standing fight,
Two-handed swords they wore,
And many wielded mace of weight,
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poem by Sir Walter Scott
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The Bride of Abydos
"Had we never loved so kindly,
Had we never loved so blindly,
Never met or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted." — Burns
TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD HOLLAND,
THIS TALE IS INSCRIBED,
WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD AND RESPECT,
BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGED AND SINCERE FRIEND,
BYRON.
THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS
CANTO THE FIRST.
I.
Know ye the land where cypress and myrtle
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime,
Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?
Know ye the land of the cedar and vine,
Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine;
Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume,
Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl in her bloom; [1]
Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute;
Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky,
In colour though varied, in beauty may vie,
And the purple of Ocean is deepest in dye;
Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,
And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?
'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the Sun —
Can he smile on such deeds as his children have done? [2]
Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell
Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.
II.
Begirt with many a gallant slave,
Apparell'd as becomes the brave,
Awaiting each his lord's behest
To guide his steps, or guard his rest,
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? Your Guardian Angel ?
Outside of heaven's door,
there is a bell to ring,
when you pull the cord,
you'll hear a heavenly choir sing.
The door will be opened by your guardian angel,
and on that beautiful face there will be a smile,
because with help you are not in hell,
and you face each other for quite awhile.
Your guardian angel know's everything about you,
your guardian angel has cherished your soul,
your guardian angel know's you have tried to be true,
your guardian angel help's you into your final goal.
So be true to yourself and help your fellow man,
and you will find you'll never be on your own,
do as much or as little as you can,
and your guardian angel will help you home.
May 15th 2007
poem by Alan J Duffield Lock
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