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This is a struggle of good and evil. And we're the good.

quote by Howard Dean
Added by Lucian Velea
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Drop Kick That Evil

We've got to get together and defeat the beast that eats...
Any remnants of peace!
That beast wants to cease a potential feasting of peace,
Released.
And this keeps a people teased by evil.

We've got to get together on collective feet.
And march together in a harmonized beat.
To sweep away the preaching of what's evil.

Drop kick that evil.
Like a football kicked right over a goal.
Drop kick that evil.
Don't leave it in your hands to hold.
To get tackled and crushed up.
Laying flat on a knocked out butt.

We've got to get together and defeat the beast that eats...
Any remnants of peace!
We've got to get together on collective feet.
And march together in a harmonized beat.
To sweep away the preaching of what's evil.

Drop kick that evil.
Like a football kicked right over a goal.
Drop kick that evil.
Don't leave it in your hands to hold...
To get your butt dumped on!

That beast wants to cease a potential feasting of peace,
Released.
And this keeps a people teased by evil.
Drop kick that evil.

There is nothing that appeals.
Drop kick that evil.
No matter how you feel...
'Eveal' is real.

Drop kick that evil.
There is nothing that appeals.
Drop kick that evil.
No matter how you feel...
'Eveal' is real.

Drop kick that evil.
There is nothing that appeals.
Drop kick that evil.
No matter how you feel...
'Eveal' is real.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Paradise Lost: Book 09

No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
To sit indulgent, and with him partake
Rural repast; permitting him the while
Venial discourse unblam'd. I now must change
Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach
Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,
And disobedience: on the part of Heaven
Now alienated, distance and distaste,
Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given,
That brought into this world a world of woe,
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery
Death's harbinger: Sad talk!yet argument
Not less but more heroick than the wrath
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd;
Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea's son:

If answerable style I can obtain
Of my celestial patroness, who deigns
Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,
And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires
Easy my unpremeditated verse:
Since first this subject for heroick song
Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;
Not sedulous by nature to indite
Wars, hitherto the only argument
Heroick deem'd chief mastery to dissect
With long and tedious havock fabled knights
In battles feign'd; the better fortitude
Of patience and heroick martyrdom
Unsung; or to describe races and games,
Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields,
Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds,
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights
At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast
Serv'd up in hall with sewers and seneshals;
The skill of artifice or office mean,
Not that which justly gives heroick name
To person, or to poem. Me, of these
Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument
Remains; sufficient of itself to raise
That name, unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing
Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine,
Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.
The sun was sunk, and after him the star
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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Evil, I Call You!

Evil, I am calling!
Evil, do you hear?
Evil, I’m imploring!
Please – I beg your ear!

Evil, I beseech you Sir!
Evil, be you near?
Evil, might you spare some time?
Please – you must appear!

Deep in barren ground I feel a rumble and a quake:
Evil stirs beneath me now – oh how the earth doth shake!
Dark begins retreating back and gives to eerie glow:
Light of hues appeal to mind in glory of His show!

I, so truly worthy, view Evil’s phosphorescence!
I, so truly honoured, scent Evil’s rancid essence!

Whenceforth He rose – ‘twas Evil’s phantasm!
Climax unfolds in Evil’s orgasm!

He lowered His sight to peer my form
From orbits sunk in fiery storm.
Incredulous now, and twice in awe, I
Harkened close to Evil’s roar:

‘I Evil, appear at your request!
Pray tell, of what is thine behest!

Your say must be bold, for you do not run, and
You’re evil enough – is my work not done?
So speak of your wanting, my impious serf,
To hail my cathedral so deep in this earth. ’

I pulled up with pride and pushed out my chest:

‘Though I be Man in all his great fame,
My evil is lacking – my damage is lame –
I crave for the power that you can instill, to
Heighten my evil and drive up the thrill! '

Evil stared in disbelief:
Could I see a trace of grief?

‘I, Evil, must say unto you:
I see wars of destruction – both savage and wild –
People lay dying – that’s woman and child!
All of mankind lay poisoned and green
From virus of hatred – oh this I have seen!
You fight and you kill and maim animals and all:

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Forward Motion

Whoa-o...Ive been banging my head against the wall
Whoa-o...for so long it seems I knocked it down, yeah it got knocked down
Whoa-o...and the heating bill went through the roof
Whoa-o...and the wall I knocked down was the proof
That my landlord needed to kick me out
I got evicted now Im living on the street
My spirits lifted...oh wait, that wasnt me
Too many turns have turned out to be wrong
This time I learned that, I knew it all along
When car crashes occur
Then Ill be what you were
When I see what I should
When I see that its good (that its good)
To experience the bittersweet
To taste defeat
Then brush my teeth
Experience the bittersweet
To taste defeat
Then brush my teeth
Cause I struggle with forward motion
I struggle with forward motion
We all struggle with forward motion
Cause forward motion is harder than it sounds
Well everytime I gain some ground
I gotta turn myself around again
Its harder than it sounds
Well everytime I gain some ground
I gotta turn myself around again
Whoa-o...Ive been banging my head against the wall
Whoa-o...for so long it seems I got knocked out. yeah, I got knocked out cold
Whoa-o...and the medical bills went through the roof
Whoa-o...and the scar on my head is the proof
That Ill still remember this when I get old
I got evicted now Im living on the street
My spirits lifted...oh wait, that wasnt me
Too many turns have turned out to be wrong
This time I learned that, I knew it all along
When I grasp the concept
Then Ill sleep where you slept
When I know I need help
When I allow myself (allow myself)
To experience the bittersweet
To taste defeat
Then brush your teeth
Experience the bittersweet
To taste defeat
Then brush your teeth
Cause I struggle with forward motion
I struggle with forward motion
We all struggle with forward motion

[...] Read more

song performed by Relient K
Added by Lucian Velea
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Publicly You Treat Me Evil

You don't have to be,
Pleasing and sweet.
But publicly...
You treat me evil.

In private you are so adored.
And I am sure...
You-are-my-equal.

But on the streets,
You then deceive.
You have a need,
To treat me evil.

Why do you seek,
To treat me evil.
In the streets,
You treat me evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.

Why do you seek,
To treat me evil.
In the streets,
You treat me evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.

But publicly,
You treat me evil.
People see,
You treat me evil.

Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
Why is it in the streets you seek,
To be evil.
To be evil.
Then alone and under sheets...
You-are-sweet-full.
But...
Pub licly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.
Treat me evil!
But...
Publicly you treat me evil.
Publicly you treat me evil.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hes Evil

Scene: a party political broadcast -- mr. black and his followers
He comes on smooth, cool and kind,
But he wants your body not your mind.
Hes got style, personality,
But hes the devil in reality.
Hell make you laugh, make you smile,
And make you feel good for a while.
Wicked smile, decadent grin,
He likes school girls, nuns and virgins.
His skin is soft but his mind is hard,
Hell lead you on then hell tear you apart.
Hell treat you rough and he will make you cry,
And you will kiss sweet innocence good-bye.
And once youre in therell be no getting out,
So look out, look out, look out, look out.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.
Hes got wit hes got charm.
But when he gets rough hell break your arm.
Hes got taste, manners and grace,
But when he gets tough hell slit your face.
Hell buy you jewels, expensive clothes,
Then his mindll go and hell bust your nose.
Hes a joker and a clown
But hell pervert you and drag you down.
He comes on smooth, cool and kind,
But he wants your body not your mind,
He is just the devil in disguise.
He will drag you down and he will make you cry,
And once youre in there will be no getting out.
So look out, look out, look out.
Look out, look out, look out.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.
Hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil. hes evil.

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Live no evil

Say no evil; refraining to bring even the most
inconspicuous of hatred to your immaculately divine
lips,
See no evil; closing your eyes as they lecherously
wandered; casting their diabolical glimpse upon
innocuous entities trespassing through this mighty
planet,
Propagate no evil; disseminating only philanthropic
benevolence from your palms; in every entity you
encountered; during your impoverished existence upon
Mother Earth,
Hear no evil; basking only in the glory of melodiously
captivating sound; gushing like an untamed whirlwind
to the faintest cry of your fellow comrades in
inexplicable distress,
Sing no evil; chopping your tongue to an infinite bits
of inconspicuous ash; the instant it uttered things
against God’s most enthrallingly mesmerizing planet,
Patronize no evil; harboring only the irrefutable
essence of celestial peace profoundly within your
magnanimous soul; blatantly ostracizing those who
condemned wonderful humanity,
Fantasize no evil; drifting the intriguing chords of
your brain towards a land more enchanting than
paradise; the instant the devil tried capsizing it
from all sides,
Philosophize no evil; tirelessly browsing through only
textbooks of charismatic mankind; immortalizing its
spirit till even centuries after; you relinquished
breath and died,
Shield no evil; audaciously vanquishing every single
trace of malice from the gloomy interiors of your
dwelling; substituting it with an everlasting stream
on perpetual love,
Paint no evil; using your fingers to uplift tyrannized
humanity; sketching with them an infinite myriad of
shapes; that profusely enlightened disastrously
devastated lives,
Chase no evil; indefatigably embarking upon a mission
to save earth from bloodshed; evacuate the most
inconspicuous iota of treachery from the complexion of
satanic soil,
Eat no evil; relishing the fruits of freedom every
moment of your diminutive life; escalating higher than
the rhapsodic clouds with your comrades by your
majestic side,
Transcend no evil; perennially existing beneath the
blessings of the Omnisciently divine; savoring as well
diffusing harmonious happiness; to every iota of this
boundlessly beautiful planet,

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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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)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Evil That Dwells Within

I see faces that walk past me, And a shadow that stands beside me, I see you and the evil sees me.

When I am alone the evil always calls to me, The evil whispers to me but only inside my head, The evil is always around me and influencing my hatred of others.

The evil so frighting that others would flee from it but I find A new view of life with it, When good should envelope me the evil burns it away from me. I have no room for your pathetic lies and excuses this evil inside me is all I need.

It never judges only befriends me, I hate it but I wish to love it, With the evil that dwells within I can do anything and not fear anything or anyone, Speak my mind with decision I have not found my religion. God was never there but the evil that fills me.

I am angry and always seem to be, Only A few are selected to see the good in me, Others will have to deal with the evil that stands beside me, People judged to many times and now my mind is full of hatred, Burning my feelings and spitting on me.

I have never been bullied but people do it visually by glaring at me, Not my popular friends but the ones who don't know me, I hate you and wish to see you feel the evil within me, But I will not release it because it would make A scene.

When my time is right and Satan depicts and calls back the evil within me, Than I will be free. I am to young to live this way but feel I need to be to teach me a lesson, By doing it carefully. My friends Don't know the way I view things because I hide it like I have hid everything, I am close to them but still the evil seems to follow me.

Some days are worse when the evil influences everyone around me and they seem to turn it all on me, they can't contain my evil like I can contain it, The evil is powerful but not more powerful than me, But the evil can change my mood faster than a bullet can kill an enemy.

My mood changes and all I see is Red and Blasphemy, Go into a dark fit that is inside me, Brings up my anger and hatred that I feel towards others. Can't stop the anger from rising but it is all I can do to strive and fight the feelings inside me.

I gain control and the evil will never take hold, It follows me and is the shadow beside me.

poem by Connor Whyte
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People Evil Leave A Permanent Stain

People evil leave a permanent stain...
Felt like nothing other.
People evil leave a permanent stain...
And forever this is suffered.
People evil leave a permanent stain.
And it remains,
With a paining that continues...
Sustaining and to drain.

People evil leave a permanent stain...
And forever it is suffered.
People evil leave a permanent stain.
And it remains.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
And we do this with a wish,
It is the best that we can do.
But...
Evil never leaves,
Us.
Evil never leaves.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
But...
Evil never leaves,
Us.
Evil never leaves.

People evil leave a permanent stain...
Felt like nothing other.
People evil leave a permanent stain...
And forever this is suffered.
People evil leave a permanent stain.
And it remains,
With a paining that continues...
Sustaining and to drain.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
But...
Evil never leaves,
Us.
Evil never leaves.

We pray that it's forgiveness...
With a hope that it will soothe.
But...
Evil never leaves,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems

March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan

Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III

Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.

They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.

The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.

They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.

The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.

[...] Read more

poem by Tom Zart
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The Quintet of Revelations

Part 1: The Mystic Man

In the beginning
The world was a dark colorless wasteland
Lightning littered the sky in dark clouds
A mystical being creates life surrounded by shroud

The Mystic Man makes light
The Mystic Man makes night
The Mystic Man makes wrong
The Mystic Man makes right
The world is now surrounded by light and night

Lightning strikes fertile soil creating plants
Green is the first color created by the Mystic Man
Drawing a bone from his ribs he makes man
The world is growing surrounded by light and night

The Mystic Man commands the man
Showing him how to use the land
Which was made by the Mystic Man
The Mystic Man lets the man understand
How to use his holy land

Finally the man understands
And is granted a woman by the Mystic Man
A woman to help him take care of the land
The land that was shaped by the Mystic Man

Together the woman and the man
Take care of the Mystic Man’s holy land
In peace and prosperity they use the land
To make a great family
The beginning of man

For two hundred years
They farmed that land
The land formed by the Mystic Man
They found the first civilization of man

Part 2: The Man of Darkness

Ten thousand years
After the first woman and man
And the making of the land by the Mystic Man
A Man of Darkness rises from the depths
To spread terror and fear to mortal man

This Man of Darkness has no mercy
This Man of Darkness has no love

[...] Read more

poem by Alex Fischer
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The Evil Saga

----
This Evil
----
This evil inside of me
Is trying get out.
It wants pain,
It wants misery.

I can't fight it,
I can't hide it.
No, No, No!

Freedom,
Terminal fate is coming.
It's nightmare is stunning.
Heathen,
The darkness in my head
Sees you all dead.
Pagan,
Ritual sacrifice
Going on tonight.

Civilizations predict the end of the world,
But death is too easy an out for us all.
This evil will test our might
It will make us suffer, make us fall.

I can't fight it,
I can't hide it.
No, No, No!

----
He Cried Evil
----

'Dark mind proposes a question,
Voices in his head form a suggestion
'I'll kill them all, ' he said to them.'

His desperate soul and his lonely heart
Screamed into the night.
Preying on ignorant fools and greedy buffoons,
He said he'd make it right.

It was his obsession
To see their final expression.
He had to teach them a lesson.

He Cried Evil!
He Cried Evil!

[...] Read more

poem by Timothy Lee Hollandsworth Jr.
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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
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Orlando Furioso Canto 21

ARGUMENT
Zerbino for Gabrina, who a heart
Of asp appears to bear, contends. O'erthrown,
The Fleming falls upon the other part,
Through cause of that despised and odious crone,
He wounded sore, and writhing with the smart,
The beldam's treason to the prince makes known,
Whose scorn and hatred hence derive new force.
Towards loud cries Zerbino spurs his horse.

I
No cord I well believe is wound so tight
Round chest, nor nails the plank so fastly hold,
As Faith enwraps an honourable sprite
In its secure, inextricable, fold;
Nor holy Faith, it seems, except in white
Was mantled over in the days of old;
So by the ancient limner ever painted,
As by one speck, one single blemish tainted.

II
Faith should be kept unbroken evermore,
With one or with a thousand men united;
As well if given in grot or forest hoar,
Remote from town and hamlet, as if plighted
Amid a crowd of witnesses, before
Tribunal, and in act and deed recited:
Nor needs the solemn sanction of an oath:
It is sufficient that we pledge our troth.

III
And this maintains as it maintained should be,
In each emprize the Scottish cavalier,
And gives good proof of his fidelity,
Quitting his road with that old crone to steer;
Although this breeds the youth such misery,
As 'twould to have Disease itself as near,
Or even Death; but with him heavier weighed
That his desire the promise he had made.

IV
Of him I told who felt at heart such load,
Reflecting she beneath his charge must go,
He spake no word; and thus in silent mode
Both fared: so sullen was Zerbino's woe.
I said how vexed their silence, as they rode,
Was broke, when Sol his hindmost wheels did show,
By an adventurous errant cavalier,
Who in mid pathway met the crone and peer.

[...] Read more

poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Don't Treat Me Evil

You may not,
Like what you've got.
But...
Even when you're medicated,
You can be evil.

You may not,
Like what you've got.
But...
Even when you're medicated,
You can be evil.

I don't want to be around you,
When you get evil.
I know you are ailing and you're sick,
But...
You can get evil.

I know you don't complain...
But when you do,
You're so evil.

I try to keep my patience,
But you keep being evil.

You may not,
Like what you've got.
But...
Even when you're medicated,
You can be evil.
I try to keep my patience,
But...
You can be evil.

I know you're feeling sick,
But do you have to be evil.

I know you're ill and feeling it.
But,
You can be evil.
Even when you're medicated,
You can be evil.
I know you're feeling sick,
But do you have to be evil.
I know you're ill and feeling it.
But don't treat me evil.
Don't treat me evil.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Inky Octopus Gripping Evil

evil never sleeps
evil owns the night
evil owns the day

evil walks day proud
owning many properties
wall street stock options

evil owns the night
owns secrets in the night
owns secrets sold by night
in many purchased places

evil has its patch
evil has many patches
an evil patch for every trade
evil buries innocence with a spade

an evil patch may be but
a few fought over city blocks
syndicated global patches
are octopus evil tentacles

some evil patches
are bigger spread
than many countries
evil marries drugs

makes mega money
addicts inject honey
drug withdrawal cold turkey
evil error terminates abruptly

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Golden Legend: II. A Farm In The Odenwald

A garden; morning;_ PRINCE HENRY _seated, with a
book_. ELSIE, _at a distance, gathering flowers._

_Prince Henry (reading)._ One morning, all alone,
Out of his convent of gray stone,
Into the forest older, darker, grayer,
His lips moving as if in prayer,
His head sunken upon his breast
As in a dream of rest,
Walked the Monk Felix. All about
The broad, sweet sunshine lay without,
Filling the summer air;
And within the woodlands as he trod,
The twilight was like the Truce of God
With worldly woe and care;
Under him lay the golden moss;
And above him the boughs of hemlock-tree
Waved, and made the sign of the cross,
And whispered their Benedicites;
And from the ground
Rose an odor sweet and fragrant
Of the wild flowers and the vagrant
Vines that wandered,
Seeking the sunshine, round and round.
These he heeded not, but pondered
On the volume in his hand,
A volume of Saint Augustine;
Wherein he read of the unseen
Splendors of God's great town
In the unknown land,
And, with his eyes cast down
In humility, he said:
'I believe, O God,
What herein I have read,
But alas! I do not understand!'

And lo! he heard
The sudden singing of a bird,
A snow-white bird, that from a cloud
Dropped down,
And among the branches brown
Sat singing
So sweet, and clear, and loud,
It seemed a thousand harp strings ringing.
And the Monk Felix closed his book,
And long, long,
With rapturous look,
He listened to the song,
And hardly breathed or stirred,
Until he saw, as in a vision,

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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Reviled Did I Live

Reviled did I live, said I,
As evil I did deliver
Never odd or even-
Live not on evil.

Reviled did I live, said I
As evil I did deliver
Live was I
Ere I saw Evil.

Reviled did I live, said I
As evil I did deliver
Live on no evil-
Evil I did live.

Do Good's deeds live on?
No, Evil's deeds do, O God

Now evil, I've won
Name now one man
Live not on evil deed,
Live not on evil.

Evil, all its sin, is still alive
Evil am I- I'm alive.

poem by Patti Masterman
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Paradise Lost: Book X

Thus they in lowliest plight repentant stood
Praying, for from the Mercie-seat above
Prevenient Grace descending had remov'd
The stonie from thir hearts, and made new flesh
Regenerat grow instead, that sighs now breath'd
Unutterable, which the Spirit of prayer
Inspir'd, and wing'd for Heav'n with speedier flight
Then loudest Oratorie: yet thir port
Not of mean suiters, nor important less
Seem'd thir Petition, then when th' ancient Pair
In Fables old, less ancient yet then these,
Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha to restore
The Race of Mankind drownd, before the Shrine
Of Themis stood devout. To Heav'n thir prayers
Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious windes
Blow'n vagabond or frustrate: in they passd
Dimentionless through Heav'nly dores; then clad
With incense, where the Golden Altar fum'd,
By thir great Intercessor, came in sight
Before the Fathers Throne: Them the glad Son
Presenting, thus to intercede began.
See Father, what first fruits on Earth are sprung
From thy implanted Grace in Man, these Sighs
And Prayers, which in this Golden Censer, mixt
With Incense, I thy Priest before thee bring,
Fruits of more pleasing savour from thy seed
Sow'n with contrition in his heart, then those
Which his own hand manuring all the Trees
Of Paradise could have produc't, ere fall'n
From innocence. Now therefore bend thine eare
To supplication, heare his sighs though mute;
Unskilful with what words to pray, let mee
Interpret for him, mee his Advocate
And propitiation, all his works on mee
Good or not good ingraft, my Merit those
Shall perfet, and for these my Death shall pay.
Accept me, and in mee from these receave
The smell of peace toward Mankinde, let him live
Before thee reconcil'd, at least his days
Numberd, though sad, till Death, his doom (which I
To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse)
To better life shall yeeld him, where with mee
All my redeemd may dwell in joy and bliss,
Made one with me as I with thee am one.
To whom the Father, without Cloud, serene.
All thy request for Man, accepted Son,
Obtain, all thy request was my Decree:
But longer in that Paradise to dwell,
The Law I gave to Nature him forbids:
Those pure immortal Elements that know

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poem by John Milton
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