If there exists no possibility of failure, then victory is meaningless.
quote by Robert H. Schuller
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In War-Time A Psalm Of The Heart
Scourge us as Thou wilt, oh Lord God of Hosts;
Deal with us, Lord, according to our transgressions;
But give us Victory!
Victory, victory! oh, Lord, victory!
Oh, Lord, victory! Lord, Lord, victory!
Lift Thy wrath up from the day of battle,
And set it on the weight of other days!
Draw Thy strength from us for many days,
So Thou be with us on the day of battle,
And give us victory.
Victory, victory! oh, Lord, victory!
Oh, Lord, victory! Lord, Lord, victory!
Let the strong arm be as the flag o' the river,
The withered flag that flappeth o'er the river,
When all the flood is dried out of the river;
Let the brave heart be as a drunkard's bosom,
When the thick fume is frozen in the bosom,
And the bare sin lies shivering in the bosom;
Let the bold eye be sick and crazed with midnight,
Strained and cracked with aching days of midnight,
Swarmed and foul with creeping shapes of midnight;
So Thou return upon the day of battle,
So we be strong upon the day of battle,
Be drunk with Thee upon the day of battle,
So Thou shine o'er us in the day of battle,
Shine in the faces of our enemies,
Hot in the faces of our enemies,
Hot o'er the battle and the victory.
Victory, victory! oh, Lord, victory!
Oh, Lord, victory! Lord, Lord, victory!
Shame us not, oh Lord, before the wicked!
In our hidden places let Thy wrath
Afflict us; in the secret of our sin
Convince us; be the bones within our flesh
Marrowed with fire, and all the strings of life
Strung to the twang of torture; let the stench
Of our own strength torment us; the desire
Of our own glorious image in the sea
[...] Read more
poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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the Way To Success
failure may outnumber success
failure is there
to make you strong
failure may cause pain
but nothing goes in vain
failure keeps you in touch
with reality
failure gives wisdom
failure gives experience
cowards don't fail
It's for the brave
who leave the shore
to sail into unknown
failure is a stop
in the journey of life
don't stop at the bend
today's failure would be
tomorrow's bigger success
failure is the cradle
in which success rocks.
failure is not a sin
failure is the first step for success
failure teaches you how to succeed
failure always helps in your success
failure helps you from failing
if you fail, it's not the end of the world
try!
success will definitely be on your way
so will run away your failure
but...
never forget your failure in life which helped you in your
SUCCESS
poem by Liioona Mohie
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Eyes Open
keep your eyes open as if
love could come a walkin as if
everything else is meaningless, meaningless
and that's the way it oughta be
mysteries, especially she
oh everything else
is almost meaningless, meaningless
oh say
well i will always feel that way
and if a time a change should come
you'd remember my name
oh say
well i will always feel that way
and if a time a change should come
you'd remember my
you'd remember my name
keep your eyes open as if
everyone's a poet as if
everything else is meaningless, meaningless
and that's the way it oughta be, yea
mysteries, including me
oh well everything else
is almost meaningless, meaningless
oh yea, oh say
well i will always feel that way
and if a time a change should come
you'd remember my name
oh say
well i will always feel that way
and if a time a change should come
you'd remember my
you'd remember my
you'd remember my name
to be a little bit advanced
you gotta take a little bit of a second chance
on life
you gotta get on up and dance
you better throw all your precious plans
better wave them goodbye
a buh bye, buh bye, bye bye bye
ya gotta keep your eyes open
as if everything else is just along
come along on its way
and that's the way it oughta be
well mysteries in everything
well i say, i say
well i, i will always feel that way
and if a time a change should come
you'd remember my name
oh say
[...] Read more
song performed by Jason Mraz
Added by Lucian Velea
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Its A Possibility
This song was first released on the one world album. it is the only album it has been released on.
For all the times that youve wondered why
The world turned out this way
And all of the times that youve asked yourself
About the games that people play
About the politics of hunger
And the politics of need
How the politics of power
Seem to be the politics of greed
For all of the times that youve struggled in an effort
To work your way back upstream
And all of the times youve held on to it
When most of us had lost the dream
And for all of the ones who have walked with you
By your side or way back home
Maybe much more than any of us
You know that no one is really alone
Because the heart is still a hunter
Its like a beacon in the night
And though the heart is just a lover
Its never afraid to fight
We are fighting for more than survival
We are working for more than peace
We are giving ourselves to each other
Making sure all injustice is will someday cease
You can take a look around you
And you can see how far weve come
All the separate parts
All the hundreds of hearts
That are beating together as one
Its a possibility
For many tomorrows
Its a possibility
Of a world to be made for everyone
Its a possibility
No more suffering and sorrow
Its a possibility
Its in everyone
Its a possibility
For many tomorrows
Its a possibility
Of a world to be made for everyone
Its a possibility
No more suffering and no more sorrow
Its a possibility
Its in everyone
Words and music by john denver
song performed by John Denver
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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Pharsalia - Book VII: The Battle
Ne'er to the summons of the Eternal laws
More slowly Titan rose, nor drave his steeds,
Forced by the sky revolving, up the heaven,
With gloomier presage; wishing to endure
The pangs of ravished light, and dark eclipse;
And drew the mists up, not to feed his flames,
But lest his light upon Thessalian earth
Might fall undimmed.
Pompeius on that morn,
To him the latest day of happy life,
In troubled sleep an empty dream conceived.
For in the watches of the night he heard
Innumerable Romans shout his name
Within his theatre; the benches vied
To raise his fame and place him with the gods;
As once in youth, when victory was won
O'er conquered tribes where swift Iberus flows,
And where Sertorius' armies fought and fled,
The west subdued, with no less majesty
Than if the purple toga graced the car,
He sat triumphant in his pure white gown
A Roman knight, and heard the Senate's cheer.
Perhaps, as ills drew near, his anxious soul,
Shunning the future wooed the happy past;
Or, as is wont, prophetic slumber showed
That which was not to be, by doubtful forms
Misleading; or as envious Fate forbade
Return to Italy, this glimpse of Rome
Kind Fortune gave. Break not his latest sleep,
Ye sentinels; let not the trumpet call
Strike on his ear: for on the morrow's night
Shapes of the battle lost, of death and war
Shall crowd his rest with terrors. Whence shalt thou
The poor man's happiness of sleep regain?
Happy if even in dreams thy Rome could see
Once more her captain! Would the gods had given
To thee and to thy country one day yet
To reap the latest fruit of such a love:
Though sure of fate to come! Thou marchest on
As though by heaven ordained in Rome to die;
She, conscious ever of her prayers for thee
Heard by the gods, deemed not the fates decreed
Such evil destiny, that she should lose
The last sad solace of her Magnus' tomb.
Then young and old had blent their tears for thee,
And child unbidden; women torn their hair
And struck their bosoms as for Brutus dead.
But now no public woe shall greet thy death
As erst thy praise was heard: but men shall grieve
[...] Read more
poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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My American Flag
Flag of the brave
Victory's only passage
With the Azure night
The dash of the fire ablaze
The stripe of pearly snow
Smybol of a victory
America's Victory
Soldiers true and brave
Trudging in the winter snow
Through the dark, hidden passage
The single, small fire ablaze
For I am of the dark night
Yet in my night:
I cry for victory,
I set my enemies ablaze,
For I am of the Brave
Within the hidden passage
The wind, the rain, the snow
Of the Sea, of the snow
Or hiding in the dark, cool night
Within every passage
In glorious victory
The symbol of the strong and brave
My fire within is ablaze
A Torch ablaze
The flash of falling snow
The strong and brave
In the night
Fighting for victory
leaving the passage
Victory has found a passage
The town is ablaze
Today is the victory
In the winter snow
The battle won this night
The shed blood of the brave
With the brave, in the passage
In the night, of the fire
Trudging in the snow, I won the victory
poem by Maria Robbins
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The Battle For The Eternal Destiny Of Mankind
I - The plan was agreed
Before the moments of time had begun
at the great council of the Triune One.
A plan was devised for the salvation of man
and was agreed upon before all life began.
A mighty battle on earth was going to take place
one to decide the destiny of the human race.
There was no hope, no place for man to flee
the wages of sin is death, was Gods decree.
II - God became a man
Then 'Here I am, ' You said, 'Send me.'
Willing, You were to hang upon the tree.
Willing to be contracted to a human span.
Willing to enter into the world of man.
Such condescension and such grace
God entered upon earth this human race.
Taking on human flesh He then became
a Babe of man to bear our sinful shame.
It was such an awesome and incredible plan
to condense Yourself and become a man.
Thus the Immortal, Invisible, God Only Wise
took on our mortality to pay sins price.
III - The sacrifice was made
Then that awful day came in God's great plan
when You were taken aside by sinful man.
Made to climb the steep hill to Calvary's tree.
There You were to die for sin to set us free.
This world could not comprehend such love.
It was the love of God from heaven above.,
So we took You to that place of hate and pain.
There nailed You to a cross and had You slain.
Upon Golgotha's hill the battle took place
the fight for the future of the human race.
In penalty for our sin Your body was impaled
as upon the cross the Son of God was nailed.
A battle had to be fought and a victory won
by the Lord Jesus Christ, God's Only Son.
[...] Read more
poem by Royston
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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A failure is an opportunity
You fail today; I know how it feels to be a failure.
It will be sad. You mourn alone, nobody mourns for you.
It will be silent. The noise of failure is too much inside
Your ears, lots of evil voices speak, like you are
A nobody
A failure
A disservice, a uselessness, the smallness of you
Like a miniature plastic soldier toy in the cabinet
Set aside for being so unattractive,
You shrink in society, and friends shy away now,
In failure you are alone, and you cry alone, if you
Will it that way,
If you will it,
You fail and forever you are a failure, a loser,
A sore loser,
But think a little deeper this time,
Who in this world never had a failure once in a while?
Isaac Newton, Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein,
Abraham Lincoln, Ronald Reagan, George Bush,
Give me a name, and I will cite their failures,
Give me a name of a man who never failed
And I will show you that dead man in his grave.
My friend, failure is an opportunity to be great
Learn, learn, and learn, take the failure as your
Platform to catapult you to something higher than yourself,
Jump and rise to some other better opportunities,
Learn and be a new person again, stronger and wiser this time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Aun Existe Amor
Cuando te adormeces junto a mi
Entonces no me quedan dudas
De que aun existe amor
(when you fall asleep next to me
Then I have no doubt
That love still exists)
La indecisirn que hay en mi
Yo la mandara a la luna
Para vivir contigo
La soledad de cada da
Que entre lgrimas creca
La alejar de mi
(the indecision I have in me
I ordered it from the moon
To live with you
The loneliness of each day
That grows between tears
That grows apart from me)
Para amarte a toda costa
Para amarte a cada momento
A pesar de tanto mal
Que gira entorno nuestro
(to love you at all cost
To love you at each moment
Considering all the madness
That runs around us)
Cuando te adormeces junto a mi
Entonces no me quedan dudas
De que aun existe amor
S que aun existe amor
(when you fall asleep next to me
Then I have no doubt
That love still exists
Love still exists)
Las discusiones de los dos
Saber quin tendr la culpa
Que nos importa ya
En nuestro mundo que es muy grande
(the discussions between us
Knowing whom will be blamed
Whats important to us
In our world that is so large)
Carino mo nos amaremos
Mucho mucho ms...
Ms all de la violenca
Ms all de la locura
(dear one, we will love each other
Much much more...
Beyond the violence
Beyond the madness)
[...] Read more
song performed by Celine Dion
Added by Lucian Velea
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All This Information
All of us seem to walk away from everything
It takes a certain amount of originality to describe this place as home
And all of us seem to walk away from everything
It takes a certain amount of originality to describe yourself as interesting
And all of us seem to walk away from everything
It takes a certain amount of originality to describe yourself as home
All this information that we have to choose from
It means nothing to you
It means nothing to you
There's no suggestion that it's needless
When the competition is so needless
It's all so meaningless
There's no suggestion that it's needless
When the competition is so needless
It's all so meaningless
All of us seem to walk away from everything
It takes a certain amount of personality to describe yourself as interesting
And all of us seem to walk away from everything
It takes a certain amount of personality to describe yourself as truly truly honest
All this information that we have to choose from
It means nothing to you
It means nothing to you
There's no suggestion that it's needless
When the competition is so needless
It's all so meaningless
There's no suggestion that it's needless
When the competition is so needless
It's all so meaningless
There's no suggestion that it's needless
When the competition is so needless
It's all so meaningless
There's no suggestion that it's needless
When the competition is so needless
It's so needless when things change
song performed by Idlewild
Added by Lucian Velea
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To Hide In Disguise Those Weak and Fragile
Although their calculated misdeeds succeeded,
They appear to now fear...
The repercussions of their activities.
And looking weak and fragile...
Without the armor worn to adorn their fetes.
Guaranteed to show in battle defeat,
That enemy to knock off their feet.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
Although their calculated misdeeds succeeded,
They appear to now fear...
The repercussions of their activities.
And looking weak and fragile...
Without the armor worn to adorn their fetes.
Guaranteed to show in battle defeat,
That enemy to knock off their feet.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
To hide in disguise those weak and fragile.
And from them to squeeze a victory sweet.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Victory will be surely theirs
Victory will be surely theirs.
Without victory they will never get back
their lost homes.
Victory will be surely theirs.
For, without victory they will never be able
to sleep with their loved ones by their side.
In the middle of the night every tanks
will encircle their refugee camps,
snatch their adolescent boys and girls
from their mothers’ shelter,
bind their eyes and take them away.
Unless victory is theirs
the enemy’s insolent legs will go on kicking
their most revered old women.
Their ill fated children won’t be able to stop
the enemy’s bullets even by hiding themselves
behind their fathers’ broad chests.
Victory will be surely theirs
for they are not afraid
of the enemy’s hundreds of killer weapons,
their most modern bomber planes,
the earth quake like holocaust
hundreds of corpses of their kith and kin.
They are not afraid of the western power’s
military might,
and, so, victory will be surely theirs.
In order to teach the enemy a proper lesson
they fling their own lives like a grenade
into the enemy camp.
And, so, victory will be surely theirs.
There is no other desire in their limbs
other than that of self sacrifice
and the destruction of their enemy.
No battle formation of the enemy
can throttle that desire.
They throw away their lives like paltry pebbles
into the waters of death.
Their souls, in a frenzy for freedom,
fly upwards like blazing fireworks
towards the Great Freedom,
learning behind life’s eternal truth.
----
poem by Shafiqul Islam
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To Win Another One
People play games to win, not for fun
Otherwise, it’s meaningless
In competitive games like basketball or golf
To win is the primary purpose
While to have fun or make friends is at most the second
Because people need to win to establish confidence and conquer others
It’s victory that excites us, not failure
It’s victory that makes our names familiar to others, not failure
It’s victory that makes us want to play again
It’s victory that tells us not to give up
Not only the human beings
Animals either fight to win and to kill or to be killed
They have no second chance
They have to fight till death
To win or to lose
Is a choice we are facing everyday
Golf masters are having fun all the time
Because they won many tournaments and they are champions
So let’s win another one
And win them all
poem by Michael Guo
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With A Failure Hailed And Assailed
They wanted to see him fail.
With a failure that would prevail.
And when they were done,
Their efforts had won.
With a failure hailed and assailed,
To belong and identified...
With each and everyone!
They wanted to see him fail.
With a failure that would prevail.
And when they were done,
Their efforts had won.
With a failure hailed and assailed,
To belong and identified...
With each,
And everyone that sung,
'Failure, failure...
Failure to us has come.'
~Your Highness?
I do not intend to be rude,
But...
Are You absolutely sure,
THIS is the planet...
You recommend to embark upon,
With 'our' teachings.~
*Oh YES.
Don't fret!
I am,
Indeed...
Absolutely sure of it! *
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Adrienne Vittadini
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air bag connectors
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air bag control module reset tools
air bag conveyor
air bag cop killer
air bag corvette driver repair
air bag cover 1999 honda prelude
air bag crash data reset
[...] Read more
poem by Caasder Fronds
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Thick At that! ...And Glossy!
How much admitted,
Actually exists?
If you talk about someone
In a negative light,
What makes that which is expressed,
Alright to dance on gossip licked lips?
Thick
At that...
And glossy!
How much admitted,
Actually exists?
We know of no one's true feelings,
But our own.
No conflicts inflicted will be felt,
With a depthness known,
No one knows...
Who's in bed with who,
And who is left alone.
But there is no stopping,
Having a fling or two
With someone new.
Who knows what to do,
With a stiffened bone!
How much admitted,
Actually exists?
How much has been changed
To arrange point of views,
By those who discreetly
Do what they do!
How much admitted,
Actually exists...?
Has driven misfits
To even more exposure.
And Rod Sterling has passed...
To worlds beyond Twilight Zones.
And he was very comfortable,
With discussing 'possibilities'!
If it is worthy to admit
Situations believed to be unfit...
One must sit and evaluate,
Being in someone's business not theirs...
How much actually exists?
And whoever committed an admission...
Please admit it!
So we can move 'that hell',
Away from here and us.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Amours de Voyage, Canto II
Is it illusion? or does there a spirit from perfecter ages,
Here, even yet, amid loss, change, and corruption abide?
Does there a spirit we know not, though seek, though we find, comprehend not,
Here to entice and confuse, tempt and evade us, abide?
Lives in the exquisite grace of the column disjointed and single,
Haunts the rude masses of brick garlanded gaily with vine,
E'en in the turret fantastic surviving that springs from the ruin,
E'en in the people itself? is it illusion or not?
Is it illusion or not that attracteth the pilgrim transalpine,
Brings him a dullard and dunce hither to pry and to stare?
Is it illusion or not that allures the barbarian stranger,
Brings him with gold to the shrine, brings him in arms to the gate?
I. Claude to Eustace.
What do the people say, and what does the government do?--you
Ask, and I know not at all. Yet fortune will favour your hopes; and
I, who avoided it all, am fated, it seems, to describe it.
I, who nor meddle nor make in politics,--I who sincerely
Put not my trust in leagues nor any suffrage by ballot,
Never predicted Parisian millenniums, never beheld a
New Jerusalem coming down dressed like a bride out of heaven
Right on the Place de la Concorde,--I, nevertheless, let me say it,
Could in my soul of souls, this day, with the Gaul at the gates shed
One true tear for thee, thou poor little Roman Republic;
What, with the German restored, with Sicily safe to the Bourbon,
Not leave one poor corner for native Italian exertion?
France, it is foully done! and you, poor foolish England,--
You, who a twelvemonth ago said nations must choose for themselves, you
Could not, of course, interfere,--you, now, when a nation has chosen----
Pardon this folly! The Times will, of course, have announced the occasion,
Told you the news of to-day; and although it was slightly in error
When it proclaimed as a fact the Apollo was sold to a Yankee,
You may believe when it tells you the French are at Civita Vecchia.
II. Claude to Eustace.
Dulce it is, and decorum, no doubt, for the country to fall,--to
Offer one's blood an oblation to Freedom, and die for the Cause; yet
Still, individual culture is also something, and no man
Finds quite distinct the assurance that he of all others is called on,
Or would be justified even, in taking away from the world that
Precious creature, himself. Nature sent him here to abide here;
Else why send him at all? Nature wants him still, it is likely;
On the whole, we are meant to look after ourselves; it is certain
Each has to eat for himself, digest for himself, and in general
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poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
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The Iliad: Book 7
With these words Hector passed through the gates, and his brother
Alexandrus with him, both eager for the fray. As when heaven sends a
breeze to sailors who have long looked for one in vain, and have
laboured at their oars till they are faint with toil, even so
welcome was the sight of these two heroes to the Trojans.
Thereon Alexandrus killed Menesthius the son of Areithous; he
lived in Ame, and was son of Areithous the Mace-man, and of
Phylomedusa. Hector threw a spear at Eioneus and struck him dead
with a wound in the neck under the bronze rim of his helmet.
Glaucus, moreover, son of Hippolochus, captain of the Lycians, in hard
hand-to-hand fight smote Iphinous son of Dexius on the shoulder, as he
was springing on to his chariot behind his fleet mares; so he fell
to earth from the car, and there was no life left in him.
When, therefore, Minerva saw these men making havoc of the
Argives, she darted down to Ilius from the summits of Olympus, and
Apollo, who was looking on from Pergamus, went out to meet her; for he
wanted the Trojans to be victorious. The pair met by the oak tree, and
King Apollo son of Jove was first to speak. "What would you have
said he, "daughter of great Jove, that your proud spirit has sent
you hither from Olympus? Have you no pity upon the Trojans, and
would you incline the scales of victory in favour of the Danaans?
Let me persuade you- for it will be better thus- stay the combat for
to-day, but let them renew the fight hereafter till they compass the
doom of Ilius, since you goddesses have made up your minds to
destroy the city."
And Minerva answered, "So be it, Far-Darter; it was in this mind
that I came down from Olympus to the Trojans and Achaeans. Tell me,
then, how do you propose to end this present fighting?"
Apollo, son of Jove, replied, "Let us incite great Hector to
challenge some one of the Danaans in single combat; on this the
Achaeans will be shamed into finding a man who will fight him."
Minerva assented, and Helenus son of Priam divined the counsel of
the gods; he therefore went up to Hector and said, "Hector son of
Priam, peer of gods in counsel, I am your brother, let me then
persuade you. Bid the other Trojans and Achaeans all of them take
their seats, and challenge the best man among the Achaeans to meet you
in single combat. I have heard the voice of the ever-living gods,
and the hour of your doom is not yet come."
Hector was glad when he heard this saying, and went in among the
Trojans, grasping his spear by the middle to hold them back, and
they all sat down. Agamemnon also bade the Achaeans be seated. But
Minerva and Apollo, in the likeness of vultures, perched on father
Jove's high oak tree, proud of their men; and the ranks sat close
ranged together, bristling with shield and helmet and spear. As when
the rising west wind furs the face of the sea and the waters grow dark
beneath it, so sat the companies of Trojans and Achaeans upon the
plain. And Hector spoke thus:-
"Hear me, Trojans and Achaeans, that I may speak even as I am
minded; Jove on his high throne has brought our oaths and covenants to
nothing, and foreshadows ill for both of us, till you either take
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poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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