When it comes to the pinch, human beings are heroic.
quote by George Orwell
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
The Interpretation of Nature and
I.
MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.
II.
Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.
III.
Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.
IV.
Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.
V.
The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.
VI.
It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.
VII.
The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.
VIII.
Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.
IX.
The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.
X.
The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.
XI.
As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.
XII.
The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.
XIII.
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Francis Bacon
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Tibetan Prayer
'om mani padme hung,
om mani padme hung...'
may all beings be freed from suffering.
may all beings breathe as one.
may all beings live in peace.
may all beings learn to give.
may all beings walk in unity.
may all beings walk in forgiveness.
may all beings lay down their weapons.
may all beings be fed and have shelter.
may all beings know they are loved.
may all beings join hands.
may all beings live in awareness.
may all beings be freed from suffering.
'om mani padme hung,
om mani padme hung...'
poem by Eric Cockrell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Aruba Is for Many Out Of Reach
Life once had us running to the bank.
Banking on the prospect,
That investments in a future...
Would produce security.
Security fantasized,
To feed those whims and needs...
Afforded to please.
We believed that banking,
Was then a safe direction...
For a quality of life,
Respected to protect..
In quality ease!
If this was yesterday...
It would be okay,
To think about Aruba...
And snoozing on the beach.
If 'this' was yesterday...
We'd put our dimes away.
But unlike those yesterdays...
Today pinching dimes,
Gets rent timely paid!
If this was yesterday,
It would be okay...
To think about Aruba!
Just to snooze on the beach.
And...
Oiling heated skin,
Rubbing sand off our feet.
If 'this' was yesterday...
We'd put our dimes away.
But unlike those yesterdays...
A rent that's needed to be paid,
Is just a pinch away.
And today Aruba,
Is for many out of reach.
Because today Aruba,
Is a dream hard to keep!
If this was yesterday,
It would be okay...
To think about Aruba!
Just to snooze on the beach.
And...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Lazy In Aruba
Life once had us running to the bank.
Banking on the prospect,
That investments in a future...
Would produce security.
Security fantasized,
To feed those whims and needs...
Afforded to please.
We believed that banking,
Was then a safe direction...
For a quality of life,
Respected to protect..
In quality ease!
If this was yesterday...
It would be okay,
To think about Aruba...
And snoozing on the beach.
If 'this' was yesterday...
We'd put our dimes away.
But unlike those yesterdays...
Today pinching dimes,
Gets rent timely paid!
If this was yesterday,
It would be okay...
To think about Aruba!
Just to snooze on the beach.
And...
Oiling heated skin,
Rubbing sand off our feet.
If 'this' was yesterday...
We'd put our dimes away.
But unlike those yesterdays...
A rent that's needed to be paid,
Is just a pinch away.
And today Aruba,
Is for many out of reach.
Because today Aruba,
Is a dream hard to keep!
If this was yesterday,
It would be okay...
To think about Aruba!
Just to snooze on the beach.
And...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Human Beings
Human being beings are strange in being human,
Strange in love and art and vice,
Strange in being nice
Human beings are strangers in the night
Lights shining on a starry night
No sooner blinked out they are gone
A stranger in the human race
Keeping up keeping face,
Moving on
In crowds and queues and buses
Walking alone at ten
Human beings in being human
Make the strangest men
Not easy to be read,
Or clothed or fed
Or put to bed
Each thought entwined
Lives over signed overlapped
Smaller beings kept but not as 'pets'
Sometimes feel 'trapped'
For human beings are best when left at sea
Frantic firey disordered unchained set free
Their limpet souls make rocks their strange security
For love for life for space,
[...] Read more
poem by Yvette Smith
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Nothing Is Wrong
Well how do you do?
Do you like the look of me and you together?
So take me out.
Spill a little drink on your lap
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
Well how do you do?
Would you like me to mm, mm, mm-mm, mmmmmm....
I'm not suggesting that I want you, but
I'll take you out,
Spill a little drink down my back and,
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
Too much, too soon.
Are you made out of stone,
or are you made out of gold?
I'll be no clearer
when I'm wrinkled and old,
when I'm wrinkled and old.
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't drive you home.
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...Nothing Is Wrong
Well how do you do?
Do you like the look of me and you together?
So take me out.
Spill a little drink on your lap
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
Well how do you do?
Would you like me to mm, mm, mm-mm, mmmmmm....
I'm not suggesting that I want you, but
[...] Read more
song performed by Gomez
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Is It Time
Is it time...
To pay attention to a ticking clock.
Is it time...
Is it,
To stop and listen.
To what's been missing.
Is it time...
To open a door that locks.
Is it time...
To come out of a box.
Is it time...
For intervention.
With a pinch!
'OW.'
Is it time...
To fix what's missing.
Is it time...
To hear that ticking,
Is it time...
To stop all foolishness,
And distance from this quick.
Or is there time,
To fix what's missing.
Is it time...
To stop all foolishness,
And distance from it quick.
'Ow.'
Just want to give a little pinch,
To make sure you feel the intent.
'Ow.'
Just want to give a little pinch,
To make sure you feel the intent.
'Ow.'
Just want to give a little pinch...
To make sure you are there,
And aware...
Of the time!
Just want to give a little pinch,
To make sure you feel the intent.
'Ow.'
Just want to give a little pinch...
To make sure you are there,
And aware...
Of the time!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Human Beings
It is only love I feel
That will give us peace of heart
In my hour of desperate need
I feel closer to the one
Oh but why...
Please
Human being
If you bleed
they will say it was destined
They'll be punchin' tickets
By the minute if you fall out of line
desperate
desperate
Tell me is it death you feel
That will bring you peace of life.
Who wants
Tell me you're one of us
Tell me you're one
Tell me you're one of us
Tell me you're one
When you lose your self esteem
That's when love dies...
Ohhh...
Please human being
If you bleed
They will say that it's destined
They'll be punchin' tickets
By the minute if you fall out of line
We're mere human beings we die
So...
So...destined desperate
Well I feel
When you've reached number one
You look like you're puffing but
Really only blocking the sun...
Blocking the sun
Blocking the sun
We're mere human beings
We die
It's destined
They'll be punchin' tickets
By the minute you fall out of life
We're mere human beings we die
We're mere human beings we die
Desperate
It's destined
We're mere human beings we die
desperate
it's destined
destined
[...] Read more
song performed by Seal from Human Beings
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Natural Powers Of Human Beings
Every human being living on planet earth possess some basic powers
The basic powers include powers to think, select, reason, decide,
Invent, produce, feel, create, construct, write and make choices
All the above powers have their positive and negative manifestations
Those human beings who are spiritually undeveloped exhibit
Some negative powers such as hatred and disgust, jealousy and envy
Hypocrisy and duplicity, selfishness and egotism, as well as insincerity
The spiritually developed human beings display positive powers like
Compassion and kindness, love and affection, charity and philanthropy
Reverence for life, altruism and self-sacrifice, optimism and buoyancy
Some human beings demonstrate extraordinary powers of intuition
Metaphysicians classify the powers of intuition as part of the sixth sense
The power of intuition is the ability to know without thinking
Answers and solutions come naturally to those who have these powers
Few human beings exhibit the astonishing powers of premonition
The power of premonition is the power of forewarning
This is the power to know that something has happened without been told
It is the power to know an event is about to occur before it actually does
Mystics categorize the powers of premonition as part of the sixth sense
As it is popularly said – to be forewarned is to be forearmed
Premonition is one of special powers human beings can possess
A number of individuals display the amazing powers of telepathy
Telepathy is the science of mind-to-mind communication
It is also the power to know what your neighbors are thinking about
Some folks refer to telepathy as a branch of clairvoyance
Few people say telepathy is part of E.S.P – extrasensory perception
Whatever may be your own definition of telepathy
It is an incredible power any human being can possess
All the above mentioned powers are not magical powers
The powers are available to all human beings to access
Please enjoy your life, good luck and happy destiny
poem by Julius Babarinsa
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Saturated In a Marination
'It's a devastating thing...
For one who chooses to think,
And surrounded by mindless human beings! '
Ignorance for what it is,
Is a most difficult thing...
For one to overcome!
Not everyone can resist this pull.
Not all are prone,
To sit alone in isolation.
To satisfy a thinking sensation!
'It's a devastating thing...
For one who chooses to think,
And surrounded by mindless human beings! '
And that's what it takes,
To break from the commonness of it!
Ignorance can be comforting.
Especially when so many,
Have been bred and born to feed on it.
Saturated in a marination...
Seeped with ingredients,
That produce clowns to fool around.
Displaying condoned qualities of misfits.
'It's a devastating thing...
For one who chooses to think,
And surrounded by mindless human beings! '
Is it an illness...
Ever to be cured?
And chased away from its endurance?
Ever to be blocked and knock out...
Never to regain a need for it to remain unchanged?
'It's a devastating thing...
For one who chooses to think,
And surrounded by mindless human beings! '
Ignorance can not be that deep of an affliction!
Why is it so craved?
Why is it chosen...
To wallow in and stay?
'It's a devastating thing...
For one who chooses to think,
And surrounded by mindless human beings! '
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Restoration Of The Works Of Art In Italy
LAND of departed fame! whose classic plains
Have proudly echo'd to immortal strains;
Whose hallow'd soil hath given the great and brave
Daystars of life, a birth-place and a grave;
Home of the Arts! where glory's faded smile
Sheds lingering light o'er many a mouldering pile;
Proud wreck of vanish'd power, of splendour fled,
Majestic temple of the mighty dead!
Whose grandeur, yet contending with decay,
Gleams through the twilight of thy glorious day;
Though dimm'd thy brightness, riveted thy chain,
Yet, fallen Italy! rejoice again!
Lost, lovely realm! once more 'tis thine to gaze
On the rich relics of sublimer days.
Awake, ye Muses of Etrurian shades,
Or sacred Tivoli's romantic glades;
Wake, ye that slumber in the bowery gloom
Where the wild ivy shadows Virgil's tomb;
Or ye, whose voice, by Sorga's lonely wave,
Swell'd the deep echoes of the fountain's cave,
Or thrill'd the soul in Tasso's numbers high,
Those magic strains of love and chivalry:
If yet by classic streams ye fondly rove,
Haunting the myrtle vale, the laurel grove;
Oh ! rouse once more the daring soul of song,
Seize with bold hand the harp, forgot so long,
And hail, with wonted pride, those works revered
Hallow'd by time, by absence more endear'd.
And breathe to Those the strain, whose warrior-might
Each danger stemm'd, prevail'd in every fight;
Souls of unyielding power, to storms inured,
Sublimed by peril, and by toil matured.
Sing of that Leader, whose ascendant mind
Could rouse the slumbering spirit of mankind:
Whose banners track'd the vanquish'd Eagle's flight
O'er many a plain, and dark sierra's height;
Who bade once more the wild, heroic lay
Record the deeds of Roncesvalles' day;
Who, through each mountain-pass of rock and snow,
An Alpine huntsman chased the fear-struck foe;
Waved his proud standard to the balmy gales,
Rich Languedoc ! that fan thy glowing vales,
And 'midst those scenes renew'd the achievements high,
Bequeath'd to fame by England's ancestry.
Yet, when the storm seem'd hush'd, the conflict past,
One strife remain'd–the mightiest and the last!
Nerved for the struggle, in that fateful hour
[...] Read more
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Fifth Book
AURORA LEIGH, be humble. Shall I hope
To speak my poems in mysterious tune
With man and nature,–with the lava-lymph
That trickles from successive galaxies
Still drop by drop adown the finger of God,
In still new worlds?–with summer-days in this,
That scarce dare breathe, they are so beautiful?–
With spring's delicious trouble in the ground
Tormented by the quickened blood of roots.
And softly pricked by golden crocus-sheaves
In token of the harvest-time of flowers?–
With winters and with autumns,–and beyond,
With the human heart's large seasons,–when it hopes
And fears, joys, grieves, and loves?–with all that strain
Of sexual passion, which devours the flesh
In a sacrament of souls? with mother's breasts,
Which, round the new made creatures hanging there,
Throb luminous and harmonious like pure spheres?–
With multitudinous life, and finally
With the great out-goings of ecstatic souls,
Who, in a rush of too long prisoned flame,
Their radiant faces upward, burn away
This dark of the body, issuing on a world
Beyond our mortal?–can I speak my verse
So plainly in tune to these things and the rest,
That men shall feel it catch them on the quick,
As having the same warrant over them
To hold and move them, if they will or no,
Alike imperious as the primal rhythm
Of that theurgic nature? I must fail,
Who fail at the beginning to hold and move
One man,–and he my cousin, and he my friend,
And he born tender, made intelligent,
Inclined to ponder the precipitous sides
Of difficult questions; yet, obtuse to me,–
Of me, incurious! likes me very well,
And wishes me a paradise of good,
Good looks, good means, and good digestion!–ay,
But otherwise evades me, puts me off
With kindness, with a tolerant gentleness,–
Too light a book for a grave man's reading! Go,
Aurora Leigh: be humble.
There it is;
We women are too apt to look to one,
Which proves a certain impotence in art.
We strain our natures at doing something great,
Far less because it's something great to do,
Than, haply, that we, so, commend ourselves
As being not small, and more appreciable
To some one friend. We must have mediators
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Fairy Revels
Pinch him, pinch him, black and blue,
Saucy mortals must not view
What the queen of stars is doing,
Nor pry into our fairy wooing.
Pinch him blue-
And pinch him black-
Let him not lack
Sharp nails to pinch him blue and red,
Till sleep has rocked his addlehead.
For the trespass he hath done,
Spots o'er all his flesh shall run.
Kiss Endymion, kiss his eyes,
Then to our midnight heidegye
poem by John Lyly
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Cheated (R&B Remix)
[wyclef] {spoken}
Rolling Stones could not be here with you tonight, Led Zepplin couldnt
be here with you tonight, but we got Wyclef Jean in the house tonight.
Yo, I woke up on the other side of the bed. Tune into my rock station,
and someone say hip-hoppers cant play rock and roll, huh.
[Wyclef] {singing} Chorus:
I cheated on you, you cheated on me,
and this is not the way that things are supposed to be,
so tell me girl, is this for real or just an illusion?
I pinch myself to make sure that Wyclef aint dreamin
[Wyclef] {singing} Verse 1:
By the time you here this song, itll be number 1 on your radioooooooooo.
Youll be drivin from the beach,
and your boyfriend will say turn it down real loooooow.
You punch up the sun roof!
And you roll down the window, slam that pedal to the floooooooooor.
whatchin the whats wrong (?)
Shes havin a good jour (?) It said love dont let me no mooooore
(to all the girls I cheated on before)
[Wyclef] {singing} Chorus:
I cheated on you, you cheated on me,
and this is not the way that things are supposed to be,
so tell me girl, is this for real or just an illusion?
I pinch myself to make sure that wyclef aint dreamin
I cheated on you, you cheated on me (To all the girls I cheated on before)
and this is not the way that things are supposed to be,
so tell me girl is this for real or just an illusion?
I pinch myself to make sure that Wyclef aint dreamin
[Wyclef] {singing} Verse 2:
I dont know much about philosophy, play though, all I rest I know (?)
all I know, when I met you, in the streets, the air wasnt so cooooooooold.
Its like my whole world just changed.
Im like a ball with no chain, ground myself on the aaaaaaaaa-train.
Reality struck me, how could you love me?
When you slept with another maaaaaaaaaaaaan.
[Wyclef] {singing} Chorus:
I cheated on you, you cheated on me,
and this is not the way that things are supposed to be.
(to all the girls I cheated on before)
So tell me girl is this for real or just an illusion?
I pinch myself to make sure that Wyclef aint dreamin
I cheated on you, you cheated on me, (To all the girls I cheated on before)
and this is not the way that things are supposed to be.
So tell me girl, is this for real or just an illusion?
I pinch myself to make sure that wyclef aint dreamin
(School is out now, school is out, nah Im Sayin?)
[Wyclef] {singing} Verse 3:
nah, nah, nah, nah, I had to play hooky, last friday, cause she hurt me.
nah, nah, nah, nah, I lied to my mama, last friday, cause she hurt me.
nah, nah, nah, nah, I might play hooky, this friday, if she hurts me.
[...] Read more
song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Almost Human
Ahh, ha
Im almost human, cant help feelin strange
The moon is out, I think Im gonna change
Youre so smooth and tender, a living, breathing dream
Ive got to have you, baby, Im listenin for your scream
Im almost human, Im almost a man
Im almost human, ooh
Im almost human, baby please dont run away
cause wherever you run, Ill be a scream away
Im very hungry and youre what Im thinkin of
Ooh baby, baby, baby, so hungry for your love
Im almost human, oh, almost a man
Im almost human, whoo
Im very hungry and youre what Im thinkin of
Ooh baby, baby, baby, so hungry for your love
Im almost human, Im almost a man
Im almost human, Im almost human
Im almost human, Im almost human
Im almost human, almost, almost, almost a man
Im almost human
Almost, almost, almost, almost, almost, almost human
Im almost human, Im almost human
Im almost human, almost a man
Im almost human, almost, almost, almost
Im almost human
song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Human Touch
Everybodys talking to computers,
Theyre all dancing to a drum machine
I know Im living on the outside
Scared of getting caught between
Im so cool and calculated alone in the modern world
But sally has a hard time holding back
The alley to her heart is a beaten track
Shes got the love monkey riding on her back
We all need the human touch
We all need the human touch
I need it the human touch
We all need the human touch
We all need it, and I need it too
You know, I got my walls, sally calls them prison cells
Sometimes I need protection, Ive got the chains
I got the warning bells
I sit so snug and isolated alone in the modern world
But sally has a hard time holding back
The alley to her heart is a beaten track
Shes never out of love, yeah shes got the knack
Youve got love I want it, come on girl
We all need the human touch
We all need the human touch
I need it the human touch
We all need the human touch
We all need it, and I need it too
Human touch
Human touch
Human touch
Human touch
Im so scared and isolated in the modern world
We all need
We all need the human touch
We all need the human touch
We all need the human touch
I need it the human touch
We all need human touch
I need it the human touch
We all need it, and I need it too
Human touch
song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Canto the Third
I
Hail, Muse! et cetera.—We left Juan sleeping,
Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast,
And watch'd by eyes that never yet knew weeping,
And loved by a young heart, too deeply blest
To feel the poison through her spirit creeping,
Or know who rested there, a foe to rest,
Had soil'd the current of her sinless years,
And turn'd her pure heart's purest blood to tears!
II
Oh, Love! what is it in this world of ours
Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah, why
With cypress branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers,
And made thy best interpreter a sigh?
As those who dote on odours pluck the flowers,
And place them on their breast—but place to die—
Thus the frail beings we would fondly cherish
Are laid within our bosoms but to perish.
III
In her first passion woman loves her lover,
In all the others all she loves is love,
Which grows a habit she can ne'er get over,
And fits her loosely—like an easy glove,
As you may find, whene'er you like to prove her:
One man alone at first her heart can move;
She then prefers him in the plural number,
Not finding that the additions much encumber.
IV
I know not if the fault be men's or theirs;
But one thing's pretty sure; a woman planted
(Unless at once she plunge for life in prayers)
After a decent time must be gallanted;
Although, no doubt, her first of love affairs
Is that to which her heart is wholly granted;
Yet there are some, they say, who have had none,
But those who have ne'er end with only one.
V
'T is melancholy, and a fearful sign
Of human frailty, folly, also crime,
That love and marriage rarely can combine,
Although they both are born in the same clime;
Marriage from love, like vinegar from wine—
A sad, sour, sober beverage—by time
Is sharpen'd from its high celestial flavour
Down to a very homely household savour.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Don Juan: Canto The Third
Hail, Muse! et cetera.--We left Juan sleeping,
Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast,
And watch'd by eyes that never yet knew weeping,
And loved by a young heart, too deeply blest
To feel the poison through her spirit creeping,
Or know who rested there, a foe to rest,
Had soil'd the current of her sinless years,
And turn'd her pure heart's purest blood to tears!
Oh, Love! what is it in this world of ours
Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah, why
With cypress branches hast thou Wreathed thy bowers,
And made thy best interpreter a sigh?
As those who dote on odours pluck the flowers,
And place them on their breast- but place to die-
Thus the frail beings we would fondly cherish
Are laid within our bosoms but to perish.
In her first passion woman loves her lover,
In all the others all she loves is love,
Which grows a habit she can ne'er get over,
And fits her loosely- like an easy glove,
As you may find, whene'er you like to prove her:
One man alone at first her heart can move;
She then prefers him in the plural number,
Not finding that the additions much encumber.
I know not if the fault be men's or theirs;
But one thing 's pretty sure; a woman planted
(Unless at once she plunge for life in prayers)
After a decent time must be gallanted;
Although, no doubt, her first of love affairs
Is that to which her heart is wholly granted;
Yet there are some, they say, who have had none,
But those who have ne'er end with only one.
'T is melancholy, and a fearful sign
Of human frailty, folly, also crime,
That love and marriage rarely can combine,
Although they both are born in the same clime;
Marriage from love, like vinegar from wine-
A sad, sour, sober beverage- by time
Is sharpen'd from its high celestial flavour
Down to a very homely household savour.
There 's something of antipathy, as 't were,
Between their present and their future state;
A kind of flattery that 's hardly fair
Is used until the truth arrives too late-
Yet what can people do, except despair?
[...] Read more
Canto the Eighth
I
Oh blood and thunder! and oh blood and wounds!
These are but vulgar oaths, as you may deem,
Too gentle reader! and most shocking sounds:
And so they are; yet thus is Glory's dream
Unriddled, and as my true Muse expounds
At present such things, since they are her theme,
So be they her inspirers! Call them Mars,
Bellona, what you will -- they mean but wars.
II
All was prepared -- the fire, the sword, the men
To wield them in their terrible array.
The army, like a lion from his den,
March'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay, --
A human Hydra, issuing from its fen
To breathe destruction on its winding way,
Whose heads were heroes, which cut off in vain
Immediately in others grew again.
III
History can only take things in the gross;
But could we know them in detail, perchance
In balancing the profit and the loss,
War's merit it by no means might enhance,
To waste so much gold for a little dross,
As hath been done, mere conquest to advance.
The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.
IV
And why? -- because it brings self-approbation;
Whereas the other, after all its glare,
Shouts, bridges, arches, pensions from a nation,
Which (it may be) has not much left to spare,
A higher title, or a loftier station,
Though they may make Corruption gape or stare,
Yet, in the end, except in Freedom's battles,
Are nothing but a child of Murder's rattles.
V
And such they are -- and such they will be found:
Not so Leonidas and Washington,
Whose every battle-field is holy ground,
Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds undone.
How sweetly on the ear such echoes sound!
While the mere victor's may appal or stun
The servile and the vain, such names will be
A watchword till the future shall be free.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Canto the Fourth
I.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O’er the far times when many a subject land
Looked to the wingèd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!
II.
She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.
III.
In Venice, Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone - but beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade - but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!
IV.
But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city’s vanished sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away -
The keystones of the arch! though all were o’er,
For us repeopled were the solitary shore.
V.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1818)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!