The opposition has moved from a blaming the victim to blaming the victim's advocate's statistics. Irrespective of what the numbers are, it's far too many.
quote by Patricia Ireland
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Virginia's Story
Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.
She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.
When she was old enough she got married.
First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.
Agnes was my mother.
Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.
Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.
Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.
Anna was a maid and cook.
She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth
They were both good cooks
They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.
My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.
She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.
[...] Read more
poem by Talile Ali
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I Shall Not Be Moved
(words & music by homer morris)
Well lordy I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats growin in the meadow (down by the water)
I shall not be moved
Im on my way to glory land and I shall not be moved
On my way to glory land I will not be moved
Im like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
Well Im on my way to glory land and I shall not be moved
On my way to glory land I shall not be moved
Im like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
Oh well
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
I shall not be, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
On this rock of ages, I shall not be moved
On this rock of ages, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
Glory, glory, glory hallelujah, I shall not be moved
Glory hallelujah, I shall not be moved
Just like a tree thats planted by the water
I shall not be moved
song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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(Choices Poem) Circumstances Unending
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
To let the one you love go for the better
Or the happiness of poverty in suffering
Like a mother choosing for a child
you must make the decision out of true love.
Forever the greater good.
The eagle looks upon us all with his eyes.
Only if I could see it that way.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
When you do such a thing their is no going back
Chasing after something you threw away.
All in a attempt to be the better man.
The homeless playing a game of kick the can.
Nobody ever wins.
It is to pass time as it will always do.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay
Regret and bitter
Feelings that will never sit well with you
Your determined to overcome, and it not be prolonged
She is gone.
Forever a bad choice.
That you wouldn't want to change.
If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
[...] Read more
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Just Another Victim
ARTIST Helmet
@ARTIST House of Pain
Victimized
But you're in bed
Stumble out
and run dead
If it ever paid
To sell (a?) (start?) (star? *sigh*)
Enviroment
make you smart
Just another victim
Just another victim
Just another victim, kid
I heard it once
but not before
(taking? or begging?) off
and livin bored
my hands are tied
webbed feet again
fell in behind
and claim us dead(?)
Just another victim
Just another victim, (says something that starts with an S, or
has an S in it? :)
Just another victim
Cast this
(?)
Give it up
I'll lie to you
(Blamin? Flamin? Played in?) Flame this
(?)
Pointed finger
You fall apart
Just another victim
Just another victim
Just another victim
(fade to HOP)
You played yourself now you point the finger
How i've robbed and raped ya, bruised and scraped ya
but those are just lies, cause in your eyes you've been victimized
It's how you size it up, you disguise it up, and try to make it look real
To cover up the low self esteem you feel
Introspection an afterthought, swimmin in guilt your favorite sport
But now you're caught up in the undertow, you never knew a man could sink
so low
But now you know, cause you're John Doe
In a black bag a tag on your toe
I built the House
I felt the Pain
You're victimized but got no one to blame
[...] Read more
song performed by Helmet
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bedtime on Tramp
He woke down the slope, by the hay
With him a thousand shrill cries
That stilled to him, yawning.
He moved with strands of hay, trailing
On his rags.
Sauntering, he is a flaneur...
The road lamps gave him away.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
Half-way on a bridge over its side
He saw a bridge in Japanese ruin
Chaffing in the hurrying waters below.
He cursed the Japs for lying fallow
Spouting his rheum.
Pondering, he is a sinner...
He knelt for those braves, never to ride.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
A gale rolled down the road in dust,
Churning it up, a regular willy-willy.
The fizzing trees corked: the shutters' hinges off.
His eyes sore: swaying he would cough.
He stood now willy-nilly.
Thinking, he is a fritterer...
He chased the trapping miasma, loping his Wellingtons' lust.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.
The rains were bursting heavy on the esplanade,
A rocky splash soared with spray from the waves.
He sought the bulwark of the stony balustrade,
The waters were rising over the promenade
Like columns of graves.
Musing, he is a shirker...
He plunged into the sea, bold as a blade.
He moved and with him, his bed
And time moved.?
He helped himself up to the wind's foremost blow
On a hillock where the moon searched his impecunious pockets,
Waking a flood in his eyes like swelled teats.
He opened wide to receive the Lady, this Endymion cheats,
No worm-wood virus but sweet philtre phials.
Finishing, he is a lover...
[...] Read more
poem by T. Wignesan
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Victim Of Love
(coverdale)
Im down on love
An I dont give a damn,
I take my chances
Whenever I can
Like a lamb to the slaughter,
Another sacrifice,
For giving love to woman
With a heart stone cold as ice
Im down on love
An Im clean out of pain,
I aint no stranger
To the crying game
Too scared to suffer,
An too blind to see,
But, I played with fire
An I got what was coming to me
Now, one more heartache
Dont bother me,
Just one more lonely night
To drown in misery
I am a victim of love,
A victim of love,
Lord, I never thought
Id be a victim of love
Victim of love, victim of love,
Lord, I never thought
Id be a victim of love
Im down on love
An I feel like a fool
To beg for mercy
cos I broke the rules
So do me no favours
With your cool advice,
I know the losing cost,
An Ill pay the price
One more heartache
Dont bother me
One more lonely night
To drown in misery
I am a victim of love,
A victim of love,
Lord, I never thought
Id be a victim of love
Victim of love,
A victim of love,
Lord, I never thought
Id be a victim of love
One more heartache
Dont bother me
[...] Read more
song performed by Whitesnake
Added by Lucian Velea
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Blame the Victim
Blame the victim.
Steal from them.
Blame the victim.
Isolate them.
Blame the victim.
And use this as your defense.
Blame the victim.
If it enhances your life,
With a purpose meant.
Blame the victim.
Steal from them.
Blame the victim.
Isolate them.
Blame the victim.
And use this as your defense.
Blame the victim.
If it enhances your life,
With a purpose meant.
Blame the victim.
If it enhances your life,
With a purpose meant.
Blame the victim.
If it enhances your life,
With a purpose meant.
Blame the victim.
If it enhances your life,
With a purpose meant.
Blame the victim.
Blame the victim.
Blame the victim.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Everybody's A Victim
Everybody's a victim
Seems we're going that way
Everybody's a victim
We're becoming like the USA
Everybody's a victim
Seems we're going that way
Everybody's a victim
We're becoming like the USA
I demand recompense
For sitting on the fence
Throughout my adult life
You've got to put my parents in jail
For raising me in Fife
It doesn't matter what I do
You have to say it's alright
And I need you to send somebody around
To tuck me in at night
Because...
Everybody's a victim
Seems we're going that way
Everybody's a victim
We're becoming like the USA
Well it's not my fault
That I'm positive
I just stuck a needle in my arm
And nobody told me
That sixty a day
Would do me any harm
My liver's shrivelling like a leaf
But it's not the whisky that doo's it
Call me irresponsible
And I'm really going to lose it
Because...
Everybody's a victim
Seems we're going that way
Everybody's a victim
We're becoming like the USA
Wear a ribbon for this
Hug a stranger for that
Light a candle to the dead
And soon you'll forget
That you ever had
A brain inside our head
We value everythin the same
We turn it into farce
So we don't know a crisis
'Till it kicks us up the arse
Because...
Everybody's a victim
Seems we're going that way
[...] Read more
song performed by Proclaimers
Added by Lucian Velea
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When Numbers Get Serious
I have a number in my head
Though I dont know why its there
When numbers get serious
You see their shape everywhere
Dividing and multiplying
Exchanging with ease
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers are easy to please
Take my address
Take my phone
Call me if you can
Heres my address
Heres my phone
Please dont give it to some madman
Hey hey, whoa whoa
Complicated life
Numbers swirling thick and curious
You can cut them with a knife
You can cut them with a knife
Two times two is twenty-two
Four times four is forty-four
When numbers get serious
They leave a mark on your door
Urgent. urgent.
A telephone is ringing in the hallways
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers will speak to us always
That is why a man with numbers
Can put your mind at ease
Weve got numbers by the trillions
Here and overseas
Hey hey, whoa whoa
Look at the stink about japan
All those numbers waiting patiently
Dont you understand?
Dont you understand?
So wrap me
Wrap me
Wrap me do
In the shelter of your arms
I am ever your volunteer
I wont do you any harm
I will love innumerably
You can count on my word
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers
Will always be heard
When times are mysterious
Serious numbers will always be heard
And after all is said and done
[...] Read more
song performed by Paul Simon
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Will Be Moved
Performed by mavis staples
Composed by prince
U will be moved when the baby lets out his very first cry
U will be moved when u think of how hard hell have 2 try
Hell grow up on an empty stomach, but hell try his best 2 listen
2 the teacher readin from a schoolbook with half the pages missin
Chorus:
Surely when the rain comes, u will be moved
La da da da da
See the video
U will be moved, and u will be when the baby makes all the grades
U will be moved, and u will be when they still dont hire him anyway
Moved by a system without one single guarantee
That an education is the answer and love will set us free
Chorus
Oh, u will be moved when the rain comes, oh yes, u will be moved
When the streets overflow with angry souls, thats when u see the truth
When the pain that uve inflicted comes back on your door 2 roost (back on your door 2 roost)
Thats when ull see the future (future), but u wont see u
Chorus
U will be moved when the whip comes down on the back of one of your own
U will be moved when u look 4 compassion but u find ure all alone
Moved, and u will be when u are, thats when ull know
That the bread u share is better than the blood that your deeds have caused 2 flow
(that the bread is better than the blood)
Chorus
Hey, u will be moved when the rain comes, oh yes, u will be moved
When the streets all flow with angry souls, thats when ull see the truth
When the pain that uve inflicted comes back on your door 2 roost (back on your door 2 roost)
Thats when ull see the future (future), but u wont see u
I said surely when the rain comes, u will be moved
La da da da da (la da da da da)
See the video
Hey, surely, surely, surely (when the rain comes)
Surely yall
Ow, la da da da da
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Magic of Numbers
The Magic of Numbers—1
How strange it was to hear the furniture being moved around in the apartment upstairs!
I was twenty-six, and you were twenty-two.
The Magic of Numbers—2
You asked me if I wanted to run, but I said no and walked on.
I was nineteen, and you were seven.
The Magic of Numbers—3
Yes, but does X really like us?
We were both twenty-seven.
The Magic of Numbers—4
You look like Jerry Lewis (1950).
The Magic of Numbers—5
Grandfather and grandmother want you to go over to their house for dinner.
They were sixty-nine, and I was two and a half.
The Magic of Numbers—6
One day when I was twenty-nine years old I met you and nothing happened.
The Magic of Numbers—7
No, of course it wasn’t I who came to the library!
Brown eyes, flushed cheeks, brown hair. I was twenty-nine, and you were sixteen.
The Magic of Numbers—8
After we made love one night in Rockport I went outside and kissed the road
I felt so carried away. I was twenty-three, and you were nineteen.
The Magic of Numbers—9
I was twenty-nine, and so were you. We had a very passionate time.
Everything I read turned into a story about you and me, and everything I did was turned into a poem.
[...] Read more
poem by Kenneth Koch
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Numerical Tyranny
Who conspired
this needless need for
the numbers?
Now we all live in fear of
the numbers
tremble at the feet of
the numbers
live our lives according to the demands of
the numbers
Identify ourselves by
the numbers
we've sold ourselves short with
the numbers
locked ourselves in a cell with
the numbers
no one believes they can escape
the numbers
our status our worth
our health our happiness
all dictated by
the numbers
Who are you?
Are you just another
number?
For if only we could see the truth behind
the numbers:
the truth being
there is only one number
that number is one
and that one stretches on
through infinitude.
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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In Spite of Opposition
If he has done nothing else...
He has reflected the aspirations,
Of those wishing to move forward.
In spite of opposition,
Of those in material bondage.
And those in subconscious slavery,
Who are still on their knees...
Praying to be accepted!
In spite of oppostion,
Of those who say he lacks experience.
Although he shows qualities,
They themselves have not yet shown.
He is a man of color...
And that they regret.
They rather show images of those of color...
As children needing diapers changed,
Because they are still 'wet'!
And they want this known.
If he has done nothing else...
He has reflected the aspirations,
Of those wishing to move forward.
In spite of opposition,
Of those in material bondage.
And those in subconscious slavery,
Who are still on their knees...
Praying to be accepted!
And he represents a time...
In which people in the right minds,
Seek an updated image...
Of what others rather see,
Enforcibly diminished!
But a darkness lifts...
To allow those to see,
Truth in reality they can believe.
In spite of opposition...
Conflicts existing,
Seem pointless to keep inflicting.
And the greed of it...
Reveals the minds of those sick,
Who insist to feast upon their wickedness to feed.
And in spite of opposition,
He proves he is the best choice to select...
And to lead.
Whatever he lacks...
He still over his opposition succeeds.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Multi-emotionalized
I'm the one that's suppose to feel,
Everyone's pain.
Including my own.
But less magnified.
I am suppose to pledge my allegiance.
No matter if I am spit and spat upon...
At the expense of my self expression.
On streets where my ancestors more than paid,
For displays of these misgivings.
Misunderstandings...
That I'm expected to internalize,
And make them my own.
To dispense and share,
With those in joyous despair and disillusioned.
'Like the pain that is theirs which is thrown upon me.
With a followup of statistics to compare survival methods.'
Multi-emotionalized,
And I am underlining it.
I am only here to joke and dance.
Not feel or think a thing.
I'm only here to boost your sports machine.
While you fill your gut up...
And continue to demean.
Multi-emotionalized,
And I am underlining it.
I am only here to joke and dance.
Not feel or think a thing.
I'm only here to boost your sports machine.
While you fill your gut up...
And continue to demean.
I'm only here for purposes,
To help you feel supreme!
'Like the pain that is theirs which is thrown upon me.
With a followup of statistics to compare survival methods.'
I'm a mult-emotionalize thing you think you've made!
I'm multi-emotionalized with each emotion taught,
To be slick and smooth and as sharp as a razor blade.
Sharpened to display any emotion.
If asking for it!
'Like the pain that is theirs which is thrown upon me.
With a followup of statistics to compare survival methods.'
And a swift change to those statistics come.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Preparatory Meditations - First Series: 39
(I John 2:1. If any Man Sin, We Have an Advocate)
My sin! My sin, my God, these cursed dregs,
Green, yellow, blue-streaked poison hellish, rank,
Bubs hatched in nature's nest on serpents' eggs,
Yelp, chirp, and cry; they set my soul a-cramp.
I frown, chide, strike, and fight them, mourn and cry
To conquer them, but cannot them destroy.
I cannot kill or coop them up: my curb
'S less than a snaffle in their mouth: my reins
They as a twine thread snap: by hell they're spurred:
And load my soul with swagging loads of pains.
Black imps, young devils, snap, bite, drag to bring
And pick me headlong hell's dread whirlpool in.
Lord, hold Thy hand: for handle me Thou mayst
In wrath: but oh, a twinkling ray of hope
Methinks I spy Thou graciously display'st.
There is an advocate: a door is ope.
Sin's poison swell my heart would till it burst,
Did not a hope hence creep in 't thus and nurse 't.
Joy, joy, God's son's the sinner's advocate,
Doth plead the sinner guiltless, and a saint.
But yet attornies' pleas spring from the state,
The case is in: if bad, it's bad in plaint.
My papers do contain no pleas that do
Secure me from, but knock me down to, woe.
I have no plea mine advocate to give:
What now? He'll anvil arguments great store
Out of His flesh and blood to make thee live.
O dear-bought arguments: good pleas therefore.
Nails made of heavenly steel, more choice than gold
Drove home, well-clenched, eternally will hold.
Oh! Dear-bought plea, dear Lord, what buy 't so dear?
What with Thy blood purchase Thy plea for me?
Take argument out of Thy grave t' appear
And plead my case with, me from guilt to free.
These maul both sin and devils, and amaze
Both saints and angels; wreathe their mouths with praise.
What shall I do, my Lord? What do, that I
May have Thee plead my case? I fee Thee will
With faith, repentance, and obediently
Thy service gainst Satanic sins fulfill.
I'll fight Thy fields while live I do, although
I should be hacked in pieces by Thy foe.
[...] Read more
poem by Edward Taylor
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Victim Of Love
Victim
She can take you
Anywhere she wants to
She can show you things,
That make you weak
She can make you think,
That youre the only one,
She can steal your heart,
With just one wink,
Why shell hold ya tight,
And she wont let go,
Shell make it last and shell make it slow,
She tell you things that you should not know,
Cause your the victim, the victim of lo-o-ove,
Framed by the night, touched by the glove,
Your the victim, the victim of love,
She can freeze you, when she doesnt want to talk,
She can work it on in, yea she can go take a walk,
She can have or leave it, she can do the skidoo-o ,
Well you better believe it, shes having fun on you,
She can hold you tight,
And she wont let go,
Shell make it last and shell make it slow,
Shell tell you things you should not know,
Cause your the victim, victim of lo-o-ove,
Framed by the night, touched by the glove,
Your the vic-tim, victim of lo-o-ove,
Thats right,
Oh when shes calling you out,
You better run to her-er,
When shes just falling out,
Youd better care,
Oh when she needs somebody,
Oh you better run to her-er,
Oh when she gives in too soon,
Its just not fair.
Oh well shell hold you tight,
And she wont let go,
Shell make it last and shell make it last ,
And shell make it slow-o,
Shell whisper things,
Youd never know,
Cause you the victim, yea,
Victim of lo-o-ove,
Youre framed by the night,
And touched by love,
Youre the vic-tim,
Victim of lo-o-ove,
(repeat, fade.)
song performed by Cars
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Victim In Me
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
I know what I'd do put in the position.
I know how I would do it.
Reading minds.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Coordinating the attack.
Knowing they won't be able to do jack.
How I love the powerless.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
Can feel the desperation.
Can you see the celebration.
The joyous occasion of misery.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
On the retreat.
A sign of defeat.
Isn't it neat.
The blood flows right beneath your feet.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
Oh how their is a victim in me.
It's never easy for a king to capture his throne.
Be careful of mercy.
Be you not considered weak.
On the radar again.
Scope it out.
Stealth to the extreme.
[...] Read more
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Victim of his own Success
Man, victim of his own success, must fast grasp opportunity
to offer all equality of chances and advances stress
as the ability to press for rights for disability
the strong ignore, or fail to bless.
Man, victim of his own success, does not deserve impunity
when biosphere supportive he still stifles in the name of, - guess, -
‘Democracy’, free-choice oppress through ways of ta[l]king liberty
as only freedom to repress.
Man, victim of his own success, - tale’s pun, - few marks of modesty
retains, yet with anxiety observes galactic game of chess
while most Earth’s problems won’t address. This manifest dichotomy
highlights concerns we should assess.
Man, victim of his own success, needs to transcend his history
predative, channel energy towards solutions which suppress
his immaturity, redress the balance of society,
extend awareness free from stress.
Man, victim of his own success, must sail beyond tsunami he
created to a safer sea where winds of change may not express
a whirlwind strange that all confess none can control. Society
must change or soon will sink, regress.
Man, victim of his own success, must map return to sanity,
respect with assiduity the planet’s need to convalesce,
create conditions which attest acceptance by humanity
of overview which won’t aggress.
Man, victim of his own success, must understand ecology
requires intrinsic harmony, may join “I wish” to “I possess”
providing much more, - never less, - is harvested with equity,
without the urge to dispossess.
Man, victim of his own success should heed the lessons most agree
accompany pride’s apogee, and not attempt to second guess
the seasons’ reasons or finesse. Where just fat few progress we see
misuse far more than maladdresse.
Man, victim of his own success, beyond base skills of repartee,
should take time off from Time to key into distortions which transgress
ideals which should not ever stress the views of tight community
or vested interests. Nonetheless, -
Man, victim of his own success, must meet the challenges that he
has catalyzed - calamity around the corner waits unless
he acts - declines to acquiesque with urbane equanimity, -
protects his progeny’s success…
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Alyson
Talk about life, imitating art
Well I was sure that I heard the director yell,
Take it from the start
And I could feel my body crushing yours
Camera dollied into place
Your husbands in the front row, I couldnt look him in the face
Part of the pleasure was that it felt so wrong
But it grew too fast, too strong
Dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Theyre blaming it all on me
Im blaming it all on love
Well dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Just a little sexual tension
Under the guise of love
Young and tragic, I really felt the part
While we were sweating and screaming tearin out his heart
Well I was sure I heard the wind and the wires
Crying in sympathy
For star-crossed lovers, ally that aint you or me
Part of the pleasure was that it felt so wrong
But it grew too fast, too strong
Dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Theyre blaming it all on me
Im blaming it all on love
Well dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Just a little sexual tension
Under the guise of love
For a limited run in to your local bedroom
We knew the curtain would be coming down soon
Reviews were mixed, the press was unkind
Ally I hope they will forgive us in time, in time
Part of the attraction was that we knew it couldnt last
So we closed our eyes and held on
Dont you thing your friends are talking alyson?
Who were we trying to fool?
What was I thinking of?
Dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Theyre blaming it all on me
Im blaming it all on love
Well dont you think your friends are talking alyson?
Just a little sexual tension
Under the guise of love
song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Triumph of Life
Swift as a spirit hastening to his task
Of glory & of good, the Sun sprang forth
Rejoicing in his splendour, & the mask
Of darkness fell from the awakened Earth.
The smokeless altars of the mountain snows
Flamed above crimson clouds, & at the birth
Of light, the Ocean's orison arose
To which the birds tempered their matin lay,
All flowers in field or forest which unclose
Their trembling eyelids to the kiss of day,
Swinging their censers in the element,
With orient incense lit by the new ray
Burned slow & inconsumably, & sent
Their odorous sighs up to the smiling air,
And in succession due, did Continent,
Isle, Ocean, & all things that in them wear
The form & character of mortal mould
Rise as the Sun their father rose, to bear
Their portion of the toil which he of old
Took as his own & then imposed on them;
But I, whom thoughts which must remain untold
Had kept as wakeful as the stars that gem
The cone of night, now they were laid asleep,
Stretched my faint limbs beneath the hoary stem
Which an old chestnut flung athwart the steep
Of a green Apennine: before me fled
The night; behind me rose the day; the Deep
Was at my feet, & Heaven above my head
When a strange trance over my fancy grew
Which was not slumber, for the shade it spread
Was so transparent that the scene came through
As clear as when a veil of light is drawn
O'er evening hills they glimmer; and I knew
That I had felt the freshness of that dawn,
Bathed in the same cold dew my brow & hair
And sate as thus upon that slope of lawn
Under the self same bough, & heard as there
The birds, the fountains & the Ocean hold
Sweet talk in music through the enamoured air.
And then a Vision on my brain was rolled.
As in that trance of wondrous thought I lay
This was the tenour of my waking dream.
Methought I sate beside a public way
Thick strewn with summer dust, & a great stream
Of people there was hurrying to & fro
Numerous as gnats upon the evening gleam,
All hastening onward, yet none seemed to know
Whither he went, or whence he came, or why
He made one of the multitude, yet so
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poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Added by Poetry Lover
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