People fantasize about being a hero and helping someone in trouble. Batman is that fantasy realized-not just for Bruce Wayne, but for the audience. Inwardly, Bruce Wayne is still an adolescent watching his parents being murdered. That will never leave him. And people really relate to that.
quote by Kevin Conroy
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Lord of the Isles: Canto V.
I.
On fair Loch-Ranza stream'd the early day,
Thin wreaths of cottage-smoke are upward curl'd
From the lone hamlet, which her inland bay
And circling mountains sever from the world.
And there the fisherman his sail unfurl'd,
The goat-herd drove his kids to steep Ben-Ghoil,
Before the hut the dame her spindle twirl'd,
Courting the sunbeam as she plied her toil, -
For, wake where'er he may, Man wakes to care and coil.
But other duties call'd each convent maid,
Roused by the summons of the moss-grown bell;
Sung were the matins, and the mass was said,
And every sister sought her separate cell,
Such was the rule, her rosary to tell.
And Isabel has knelt in lonely prayer;
The sunbeam, through the narrow lattice, fell
Upon the snowy neck and long dark hair,
As stoop'd her gentle head in meek devotion there.
II.
She raised her eyes, that duty done,
When glanced upon the pavement-stone,
Gemm'd and enchased, a golden ring,
Bound to a scroll with silken string,
With few brief words inscribed to tell,
'This for the Lady Isabel.'
Within, the writing farther bore,-
''Twas with this ring his plight he swore,
With this his promise I restore;
To her who can the heart command,
Well may I yield the plighted hand.
And O! for better fortune born,
Grudge not a passing sigh to mourn
Her who was Edith once of Lorn!'
One single flash of glad surprise
Just glanced from Isabel's dark eyes,
But vanish'd in the blush of shame,
That, as its penance, instant came.
'O thought unworthy of my race!
Selfish, ungenerous, mean, and base,
A moment's throb of joy to own,
That rose upon her hopes o'erthrown!-
Thou pledge of vows too well believed,
Of man ingrate and maid deceived,
Think not thy lustre here shall gain
Another heart to hope in vain!
For thou shalt rest, thou tempting gaud,
Where worldly thoughts are overawed,
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Superman My Hero
Superman my hero
Is just like my friend
It was just what I want him to be
Superman my hero
Is giving us hope
He is keeping us free
God's nation
Is in chaos
But there is one man that
Can save us all
Superman my Hero
He flied many times a day in the sky
He touches heaven
Just like the birds do
Superman my hero
I am so proud of him
Superman my hero
I pray for you every day
You have a job, I have one too
I will tell you what gets me through
Strenght, love, and peace
I pray for peace where I am going to be
For you and me
Kids at school
Sending Postcards to those who died overseas in the war
Superman my hero
Keeping busy is what I need to do
And keeping busy these days seems to be the tool
I want to make the hour go fast
So I have to keep myself busy
Superman my hero
Doesn't live in fear
But I do
Superman my hero
Makes sacrifices also
Like I do
Superman my hero
Is landing from the sky right now
He had a perfect landing
Superman my hero
I light a candle for you
May God always bless you
Superman my hero
To the world you gave so much love
Superman my hero
You are an hero
Superman my hero
What are we going to do when our time is up here on earth?
Superman my hero
Your spirit will always be alive in me
[...] Read more
poem by Aldo Kraas
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Lord of the Isles: Canto VI.
I.
O who, that shared them, ever shall forget
The emotions of the spirit-rousing time,
When breathless in the mart the couriers met,
Early and late, at evening and at prime;
When the loud cannon and the merry chime
Hail'd news on news, as field on field was won,
When Hope, long doubtful, soar'd at length sublime,
And our glad eyes, awake as day begun,
Watch'd Joy's broad banner rise, to meet the rising sun!
O these were hours, when thrilling joy repaid
A long, long course of darkness, doubts, and fears!
The heart-sick faintness of the hope delay'd,
The waste, the woe, the bloodshed, and the tears,
That track'd with terror twenty rolling years,
All was forgot in that blithe jubilee!
Her downcast eye even pale Affliction rears,
To sigh a thankful prayer, amid the glee,
That hail'd the Despot's fall, and peace and liberty!
Such news o'er Scotland's hills triumphant rode,
When 'gainst the invaders turn'd the battle's scale,
When Bruce's banner had victorious flow'd
O'er Loudoun's mountain, and in Ury's vale;
And fiery English blood oft deluged Douglas-dale,
And fiery Edward routed stout St. John,
When Randolph's war-cry swell'd the southern gale,
And many a fortress, town, and tower, was won,
And fame still sounded forth fresh deeds of glory done.
II.
Blithe tidings flew from baron's tower,
To peasant's cot, to forest-bower,
And waked the solitary cell,
Where lone Saint Bride's recluses dwell.
Princess no more, fair Isabel,
A vot'ress of the order now,
Say, did the rule that bid thee wear
Dim veil and wollen scapulare,
And reft thy locks of dark-brown hair,
That stern and rigid vow,
Did it condemn the transport high,
Which glisten'd in thy watery eye,
When minstrel or when palmer told
Each fresh exploit of Bruce the bold?-
And whose the lovely form, that shares
Thy anxious hopes, thy fears, thy prayers?
No sister she of convent shade;
So say these locks in lengthen'd braid,
So say the blushes and the sighs,
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Watching Me Watching You
I sit by the cutting on the beaconsfield line.
Hes watching me watching the trains go by.
And they move so fast --- boy, they really fly.
Hes still watching me watching you watching the
Trains go by.
And the way he stares --- feel like locking my door
And pulling my phone from the wall.
His eyes, like lights from a laser, burn
Making my hair stand --- making the goose-bumps crawl.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me
Im watching you watching him watching me
Watching stares.
At the cocktail party with a bucks fizz in my hand
I feel him watching me watching the girls go by.
And they move so smooth without even trying.
Hes still watching me watching you watching the
Trains go by.
And the crowd thins and he moves up close but he doesnt speak.
I have to look the other way.
But curiosity gets the better part of me and I peek:
Got two drinks in his hand --- see his lips move ---
What the hells he trying to say.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Im watching you watching him watching me
Watching stares.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching
The trains go by.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching him watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching him watching me watching him watching.
song performed by Jethro Tull
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A Hero?
Her hero is pretty and thin
Her hero is a hero to many
A hero of fame and a hero of fortune
A role model, a hero of glamour
Her hero is a hero to many
His hero is fit and fast
His hero is a hero to many
A hero of sport, a hero of games
A role model, a hero of victory
His hero is a hero to many
Her hero is clever yet plane
Her hero is a hero to few
A hero of science, a hero of logic
A role model, a hero of knowledge
Her hero is a hero to few
His hero is a hero of art but he is poor
His hero is a hero to few
A hero of word a hero of writings
A role model, a hero of language
His hero is a hero to few
But that’s the thing with your heros....
Hero worship is only skin deep.
poem by Timothy Venard
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Trouble
No attorneys
To plead my case
No orbits
To send me into outta space
And my fingers
Are bejeweled
With diamonds and gold
But that ain't gonna help me now
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I disturb my town
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
You think your right
But you were wrong
You tried to take me
But I knew all along
You can take me
For a ride
I'm not a fool out
So you better run and hide
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
I'm trouble
Yeah trouble now
I'm trouble ya'll
I got trouble in my town
If you see me coming
Down the street then
You know it's time to
Go (and you know it's time to go
cause here comes trouble)
No attorneys
To plead my case
No orbits
To send me into outta space
And my fingers
Are bejeweled
With diamonds and gold
But that ain't gonna help me now
You think your right
But you were wrong
You tried to take me
But I knew all along
You can take me
[...] Read more
song performed by Pink
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Hero?
Hail great hero!
Hero brave!
We praise you hero!
I your slave
Now duly fall
On giving knee
In hero worship
Unto thee!
Now did you hero save our globe
When draped in classic hero’s robe?
And did it flow as reddened blood
As battles raged in fields of mud?
Oh hero tell me of your fame:
Were writhing serpents fair your game?
Did you pierce the dragon’s heart
Intrepid hero; play the part
When Tyrant slain in hero’s fight
On quaking ground thro’ battle’s might?
And did you hero conquer evil -
Waste the minions of the devil?
Oh valiant hero, does your armour
Gleam from ventures steeped in valour?
Your sword oh hero, sparks a glint
From charging steel to give the hint
Of what great chapters Hero's Tome
Might tell to us when heroes roam
Through lands of yore when goblins vile
Sought a chance to kill for bile.
Oh hail thy hero,
Hero tall!
Bless you hero,
As I fall
In blushing shame,
I speak to me…
This mirror aids to fantasise
That I be hero worldly wise,
But meek and mild is all I am:
Hero naught; unbridled scam.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Im Housin
Coolin on the scene like a horse in a stable
A brother got ill and tried to snatch a fat cable
I stepped back, like it wasnt no thing
I punched him in the jaw with the fat gold ring
I had an ace in the hole when it came to that
Yo z you was packin? you know was strapped
Posse kept rollin it was hard to get with em
So I stepped back, and unbuttoned my lee denim
They kept coming, just like I figured
So I stepped back, and started sprayin niggaz
What a way to go out, out like a sucker
But Im on track, like a long island train
That can head up your mission, suckers who be dissing
Always on my jock like a snake always hissing
Grabbing and tapping me like luther vandross
Take me to the bar for the drink and make a toast
Givin best wishes to the best mc
And when the spot is blown and yo you know its me
Because Im housin
cause Im housin
Because Im housin
cause Im housin
Because Im housin
Because Im housin
Relate to the matter as I drop the bomb
cause Im housin
Relate to the matter as I drop the bomb
cause Im housin
Relate to the matter as I drop the bomb
cause Im housin
Relate to the matter as I drop the bomb
Coolin at a party, no better yet disco
Head feelin mellow from a bottle of cisco
Move...
To crush and fry a sucker mc like crisco
Gimme the cue, check one two
Dont try to come off on me, because you doo-doo
You treatin me the z to the d, like a stepchild
Let me tell you homeboy youre livin foul
Mcs, you know who you are
On the bandwagon why z? cuz you a star
This is the year when the jokers are wild
When a fag cant hack it and try to bite your style
I get hip to the scheme, before it happens
If it gets wild, then I start cappin
But for now, since everythings calm
Relate to the matter as I drop the bomb
Because Im housin
cause Im housin
cause Im housin
[...] Read more
song performed by Rage Against The Machine
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Lord of the Isles: Canto III.
I.
Hast thou not mark'd, when o'er thy startled head
Sudden and deep the thunder-peal has roll'd,
How when its echoes fell, a silence dead
Sunk on the wood, the meadow, and the wold?
The rye-glass shakes not on the sod-built fold,
The rustling aspen's leaves are mute and still,
The wall-flower waves not on the ruin'd hold,
Till, murmuring distant first, then near and shrill,
The savage whirlwind wakes, and sweeps the groaning hill.
II.
Artornish! such a silence sunk
Upon thy halls, when that grey Monk
His prophet-speech had spoke;
And his obedient brethren's sail
Was stretch'd to meet the southern gale
Before a whisper woke.
Then murmuring sounds of doubt and fear,
Close pour'd in many an anxious ear,
The solemn stillness broke;
And still they gazed with eager guess,
Where, in an oriel's deep recess,
The Island Prince seem'd bent to press
What Lorn, by his impatient cheer,
And gesture fierce, scarce deign'd to hear.
III.
Starting at length with frowning look,
His hand he clench'd, his head he shook,
And sternly flung apart;-
'And deem'st thou me so mean of mood,
As to forget the mortal feud,
And clasp the hand with blood inbrued
From my dear Kinsman's heart?
Is this thy rede? - a due return
For ancient league and friendship sworn!
But well our mountain proverb shows
The faith of Islesmen ebbs and flows.
Be it even so - believe, ere long,
He that now bears shall wreak the wrong.-
Call Edith - call the Maid of Lorn!
My sister, slaves! - for further scorn,
Be sure nor she nor I will stay.-
Away, De Argentine, away! -
We nor ally nor brother know,
In Bruce's friend, or England's foe.'
IV.
But who the Chieftain's rage can tell,
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Beowulf
LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,
till before him the folk, both far and near,
who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,
gave him gifts: a good king he!
To him an heir was afterward born,
a son in his halls, whom heaven sent
to favor the folk, feeling their woe
that erst they had lacked an earl for leader
so long a while; the Lord endowed him,
the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown.
Famed was this Beowulf: far flew the boast of him,
son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.
So becomes it a youth to quit him well
with his father's friends, by fee and gift,
that to aid him, aged, in after days,
come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,
liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds
shall an earl have honor in every clan.
Forth he fared at the fated moment,
sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.
Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,
loving clansmen, as late he charged them,
while wielded words the winsome Scyld,
the leader beloved who long had ruled….
In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,
ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge:
there laid they down their darling lord
on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,
by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure
fetched from far was freighted with him.
No ship have I known so nobly dight
with weapons of war and weeds of battle,
with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay
a heaped hoard that hence should go
far o'er the flood with him floating away.
No less these loaded the lordly gifts,
thanes' huge treasure, than those had done
who in former time forth had sent him
sole on the seas, a suckling child.
High o'er his head they hoist the standard,
a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,
gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,
mournful their mood. No man is able
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Baudelaire
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Trouble
Trouble in the city, trouble in the farm,
You got your rabbits foot, you got your good-luck charm.
But they cant help you none when theres trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Trouble in the water, trouble in the air,
Go all the way to the other side of the world, youll find trouble there.
Revolution even aint no solution for trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Drought and starvation, packaging of the soul,
Persecution, execution, governments out of control.
You can see the writing on the wall inviting trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Put your ear to the train tracks, put your ear to the ground,
You ever feel like youre never alone even when theres nobody else around?
Since the beginning of the universe mans been cursed by trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
Nightclubs of the broken-hearted, stadiums of the damned,
Legislature, perverted nature, doors that are rudely slammed.
Look into infinity, all you see is trouble.
Trouble,
Trouble, trouble, trouble,
Nothin but trouble.
song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Bruce
Doctor, doctor you gotta help me yeah
You gotta make it right for me
It seems this other mans name has been following me around
And it just wont let me be
You see I got this name and hes got this name too know
Well theyre kinda close only a blind crazy fool
Would think I was him its like saying green is blue
But let me tell you brother it started being a bother
When he made the cover of time magazine
I was at this party in the wild-hilled hills
Just the other night
Her name was shelly I introduced myself
She just smiled and said all right
Well we got talkin and drinkin wine
And she said she liked my music thought it was fine
She said, lets make love, your place or mine
And in the middle of the passion I was on the borderline
When she called out a name but it wasnt mine
She called me bruce, bruce
I can hear her calling bruce, bruce
I can hear her calling bruce, bruce
I can hear her
My name is rick Im gonna stick it to ya babe
And theres this kid walking carrying a guitar
You know I told him that I played
He asked me my name you know I told him
I said it plain as clear as day
Well he seemed really, clearly, sincerely impressed
And as he pulled a piece paper for me to sign from his vest
He said, I thought born to run was one of your best
Awww wait a minute man, who do you think I am?
He answered, mr. springsteen, your a famous man.
He called me bruce, bruce
I can hear him calling bruce, bruce
He called me bruce, bruce
I can hear him
My name is richard gonna hit it to you babe
You know my mama called me long distance yesterday
And as she got off the phone I swear I heard her say
Bye bye bruce, bruce
I can hear her calling bruce, bruce
She called me bruce, bruce
I can hear her
My name is ricky gonna stick it to you babe
song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Lord of the Isles: Canto IV.
I.
Stranger! if e'er thine ardent step hath traced
The northern realms of ancient Caledon,
Where the proud Queen of Wilderness hath placed,
By lake and cataract, her lonely throne;
Sublime but sad delight thy soul hath known,
Gazing on pathless glen and mountain high,
Listing where from the cliffs the torrents thrown
Mingle their echoes with the eagle's cry,
And with the sounding lake, and with the moaning sky.
Yes! 'twas sublime, but sad. - The loneliness
Loaded thy heart, the desert tired thine eye;
And strange and awful fears began to press
Thy bosom with a stern solemnity.
Then hast thou wish'd some woodman's cottage nigh,
Something that show'd of life, though low and mean;
Glad sight, its curling wreath of smoke to spy,
Glad sound, its cock's blithe carol would have been,
Or children whooping wild beneath the willows green.
Such are the scenes, where savage grandeur wakes
An awful thrill that softens into sighs;
Such feelings rouse them by dim Rannoch's lakes,
In dark Glencoe such gloomy raptures rise:
Or farther, where, beneath the northern skies,
Chides wild Loch-Eribol his caverns hoar-
But, be the minstrel judge, they yield the prize
Of desert dignity to that dread shore,
That sees grim Coolin rise, and hears Coriskin roar.
II.
Through such wild scenes the champion pass'd,
When bold halloo and bugle blast
Upon the breeze came loud and fast.
'There,' said the Bruce, 'rung Edward's horn!
What can have caused such brief return?
And see, brave Ronald,- see him dart
O'er stock and stone like hunted hart,
Precipitate, as is the use,
In war or sport, or Edward Bruce.
- He marks us, and his eager cry
Will tell his news ere he be nigh.'
III.
Loud Edward shouts, 'What make ye here,
Warring upon the mountain-deer,
When Scotland wants her King?
A bark from Lennox cross'd our track,
With her in speed I hurried back,
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Too Too 'Fisticated
You're sophisticated!
So sophisticated.
Too too 'fisticated'
That you can't relate..
You're sophisticated!
So sophisticated.
Too too 'fisticated'
That you can't relate..
I want to hold you in my arms,
But...
You're too too 'fisticated'
That you can't relate..
I want to feel all your charms,
But...
You're too too 'fisticated'
That you can't relate..
You're sophisticated!
So sophisticated.
Too too 'fisticated'
That you can't relate..
You're sophisticated!
So sophisticated.
Too too 'fisticated'
That you can't relate..
I want to hold you in my arms,
But...
You're too too 'fisticated'
That you can't relate..
I want to feel all your charms,
But...
You're too too 'fisticated'
That you can't relate..
You're sophisticated!
So sophisticated.
Too too 'fisticated'
That you can't relate..
You're sophisticated!
So sophisticated.
Too too 'fisticated'
That you can't relate..
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Murdered By Their Tongues
Threatened by a mentalness,
That spreading gossip did.
And murdered by their tongues.
Whatever between them did exist,
That ruined their happiness...
And long loving relationships,
Has been murdered by their tongues.
Murdered by their tongues,
Abandoned good deeds are left undone.
In big numbers.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some people had to run...
To find their comfort.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some choose to begin to run...
To find their comfort,
And unencumbered by the numbers.
They've been murdered by their tongues.
Stubborn these people,
Who've been murdered by their tongues.
Unconscious people,
Who are murdered by their tongues.
These fools are equal,
Who will murder anyone with their wicked tongues.
Murdered by their tongues,
Some people had to run...
To find their comfort.
Threatened by a mentalness,
That spreading gossip did.
And murdered by their tongues.
Whatever between them did exist,
That ruined their happiness...
And long loving relationships,
Has been murdered by their tongues.
They've been murdered by their tongues.
Stubborn these people,
Who've been murdered by their tongues.
Unconscious people,
Who are murdered by their tongues.
These fools are equal,
Who will murder anyone with their wicked tongues.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Hero And Leander. The Third Sestiad
New light gives new directions, fortunes new,
To fashion our endeavours that ensue.
More harsh, at least more hard, more grave and high
Our subject runs, and our stern Muse must fly.
Love's edge is taken off, and that light flame,
Those thoughts, joys, longings, that before became
High unexperienc'd blood, and maids' sharp plights,
Must now grow staid, and censure the delights,
That, being enjoy'd, ask judgment; now we praise,
As having parted: evenings crown the days.
And now, ye wanton Loves, and young Desires,
Pied Vanity, the mint of strange attires,
Ye lisping Flatteries, and obsequious Glances,
Relentful Musics, and attractive Dances,
And you detested Charms constraining love!
Shun love's stoln sports by that these lovers prove.
By this, the sovereign of heaven's golden fires,
And young Leander, lord of his desires,
Together from their lovers' arms arose:
Leander into Hellespontus throws
His Hero-handled body, whose delight
Made him disdain each other epithite.
And as amidst th' enamour'd waves he swims,
The god of gold of purpose gilt his limbs,
That, this word _gilt_ including double sense,
The double guilt of his incontinence
Might be express'd, that had no stay t' employ
The treasure which the love-god let him joy
In his dear Hero, with such sacred thrift
As had beseem'd so sanctified a gift;
But, like a greedy vulgar prodigal,
Would on the stock dispend, and rudely fall,
Before his time, to that unblessed blessing
Which, for lust's plague, doth perish with possessing:
Joy graven in sense, like snow in water, wasts:
Without preserve of virtue, nothing lasts.
What man is he, that with a wealthy eye
Enjoys a beauty richer than the sky,
Through whose white skin, softer than soundest sleep,
With damask eyes the ruby blood doth peep,
And runs in branches through her azure veins,
Whose mixture and first fire his love attains;
Whose both hands limit both love's deities,
And sweeten human thoughts like Paradise;
Whose disposition silken is and kind,
Directed with an earth-exempted mind;--
Who thinks not heaven with such a love is given?
And who, like earth, would spend that dower of heaven,
With rank desire to joy it all at first?
What simply kills our hunger, quencheth thirst,
[...] Read more
poem by George Chapman
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Brus Book X
[Preparations for battle against John of Lorn]
Quhen Thomas Randell on this wis
Wes takyn as Ik her devys
And send to dwell in gud keping
For spek that he spak to the king,
The gud king that thocht on the scaith
The dispyt and felny bath
That Jhone off Lorne had till him doyn
His ost assemblyt he then sone
And towart Lorn he tuk the way
With his men intill gud aray.
Bot Jhone off Lorn off his cummyng
Lang or he come had wittering,
And men on ilk sid gadryt he
I trow twa thousand thai mycht be
And send thaim for to stop the way
Quhar the gud king behovyt away,
And that wes in an evill plas
That sa strayt and sa narow was
That twasum samyn mycht nocht rid
In sum place off the hillis sid.
The nethyr halff was peralous
For schor crag hey and hydwous
Raucht to the se doun fra the pas,
On athyr halff the montane was
Sua combrous hey and stay
That it was hard to pas that way.
I trow nocht that in all Bretane
Ane heyar hill may fundyn be.
Thar Jhone off Lorne gert his menye
Enbuschyt be abovyn the way,
For giff the king held thar away
He thocht he suld sone vencussyt be,
And himselff held him apon the se
Weill ner the pais with his galayis.
Bot the king that in all assayis
Wes fundyn wys and avisé
Persavyt rycht weill thar sutelte,
And that he neid that gait suld ga.
His men departyt he in twa
And till the gud lord off Douglas
Quham in herbryd all worschip was
He taucht the archerys everilkane
And this gud lord with him has tane
Schyr Alysander Fraser the wycht,
And Wylyam Wysman a gud knycht
And with thaim syne Schyr Androw Gray.
Thir with thar mengne held thar way
And clamb the hill deliverly
And or thai off the tother party
[...] Read more
poem by John Barbour
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Lord of the Isles: Canto II.
I.
Fill the bright goblet, spread the festive board!
Summon the gay, the noble, and the fair!
Through the loud hall, in joyous concert pour'd,
Let mirth and music sound the dirge of Care!
But ask thou not if Happiness be there,
If the loud laugh disguise convulsive throe,
Or if the brow the heart's true livery wear;
Lift not the festal mask! - enough to know,
No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal woe.
II.
With beaker's clang, with harpers' lay,
With all that olden time deem'd gay,
The Island Chieftain feasted high;
But there was in his troubled eye
A gloomy fire, and on his brow
Now sudden flush'd, and faded now,
Emotions such as draw their birth
From deeper source than festal mirth.
By fits he paused, and harper's strain
And jester's tale went round in vain,
Or fell but on his idle ear
Like distant sounds which dreamers hear.
Then would he rouse him, and employ
Each art to aid the clamorous joy,
And call for pledge and lay,
And, for brief space, of all the crowd,
As he was loudest of the loud,
Seem gayest of the gay.
III.
Yet nought amiss the bridal throng
Mark'd in brief mirth, or musing long;
The vacant brow, the unlistening ear,
They gave to thoughts of raptures near,
And his fierce starts of sudden glee
Seem'd bursts of bridegroom's ecstasy.
Nor thus alone misjudged the crowd,
Since lofty Lorn, suspicious, proud,
And jealous of his honour'd line,
And that keen knight, De Argentine,
(From England sent on errand high,
The western league more firm to tie),
Both deem'd in Ronald's mood to find
A lover's transport-troubled mind.
But one sad heart, one tearful eye,
Pierced deeper through the mystery,
And watch'd, with agony and fear,
Her wayward bridegroom's varied cheer.
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No More Trouble (feat. Erykah Badu)
[Bob Marley]
(We don't need) No, we don't need (no more trouble) no more trouble!
(We don't need no more trouble)
Wo! Oh-oh-oh!
(We don't need) We don't need no (no more) trouble!
We don't need no trouble!
(We don't need no more trouble)
Make love and not war! 'Cause we don't need no trouble.
What we need is love (love)
To guide and protect us on. (on)
If you hope good down from above, (love)
Help the weak if you are strong now. (love)
We don't need no trouble;
What we need is love. Oh, no!
We don't need - we don't need - no more trouble!
Lord knows, we don't need no trouble!
(We don't need) We don't need trouble (no more trouble) -
no more trouble - no more trouble!
Seek happiness! (...) Oh, ...!
Come on, you all and speak of love. (...) Oh, yeah!
We don't need no trouble;
What we need is love, now. (What we need is love!)
(We don't need) Oh, we don't need no more trouble!
We don't need, no - we don't need no trouble!
We don't (need) - no, brothers and sisters ... (no more trouble!)
We don't need no trouble; we don't need no trouble!
We don't need no trouble!
What we need is love!
We don't need - we don't need no more - we don't need -
no more trouble - we don't need no more trouble!
Trouble we don't need (we don't need),
(We don't need) Lord, knows! -
we don't need no more war (no more trouble).
No more trouble - we don't need no more - more trouble! /fadeout/
song performed by Bob Marley
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!