Quotes about penance, page 3
Edward, Edward
Why dois your brand sae drap wi' bluid,
Edward, Edward?
Why dois your brand sae drap wi' bluid?
And why sae sad gang ye, O?
O, I hae killed my hauke sae guid,
Mither, mither,
O, I hae killed my hauke sae guid,
And I had nae mair bot hee, O.
Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid,
Edward, Edward,
Your haukis bluid was nevir sae reid,
My deir son I tell thee, O.
O, I hae killed my reid-roan steid,
Mither, mither,
O, I hae killed my reid-roan steid,
That erst was sae fair and frie, O.
Your steid was auld, and ye hae gat mair,
Edward, Edward,
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poem by Thomas Percy
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Edward, Edward
'Why does your brand sae drop wi' blude,
Edward, Edward?
Why does your brand sae drop wi' blude
And why sae sad gang ye, O?'
'O I hae killed my hawk sae gude,
Mither, mither;
O I hae killed my hawk sae gude,
And I hae nae mair but he, O.'
'Your hawk's blude was never sae red,
Edward, Edward;
Your hawk's blude was never sae red,
My dear son, I tell thee, O.'
'O I hae killed my red-roan steed,
Mither, mither;
O I hae killed my red-roan steed,
That was sae fair and free, O.'
'Your steed was auld, and ye've plenty mair,
Edward, Edward;
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poem by Andrew Lang
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Perumaal 13-18
13 No salt, agreed where Thee to Markandeya
Wedded where Thee to Lakshmi by Thou heart
So to impart where Thou excellence matchless
where with Bhoomidevi, Tulasidevi Thee gracing
To Thou abode that of Thiruvinnagar(Oppiliappan koil)
That accolades Ennappan, Ponnappan, Maniappan, Muthappan
Hey Oppiliappa, Venkatappa, vision.I surrender
14 Ascetic Medhaavi's austerity where bore Mahalakshmi
Her damsel-beauty Where Thee captured in marriage
Beseen where Thee in split five personae
Vanjulavalli where with Thee bestowing
To Thou abode that of Thirunaraiyur(Naachiar Koil)
That bears highly weighty mighty Thou Garuda
Hey Thirunaraiyur Nambi, vision I surrender
15 His mud-pot for creation whence Brahma made
Kaveri's penance where gained Ganga's stature
Kaveri's wishful child where Thee improvised
Where with Saranayaki Thee blessing
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poem by Indira Renganathan
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Edward, Edward
'WHY does your brand sae drop wi' blude,
Edward, Edward?
Why does your brand sae drop wi' blude,
And why sae sad gang ye, O?'
'O I hae kill'd my hawk sae gude,
Mither, mither;
O I hae kill'd my hawk sae gude,
And I had nae mair but he, O.'
'Your hawk's blude was never sae red,
Edward, Edward;
Your hawk's blude was never sae red,
My dear son, I tell thee, O.'
'O I hae kill'd my red-roan steed,
Mither, mither;
O I hae kill'd my red-roan steed,
That erst was sae fair and free, O.'
'Your steed was auld, and ye hae got mair,
Edward, Edward;
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poem by Anonymous
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From 'Daphnaida
SHE fell away in her first ages spring,
Whil'st yet her leafe was greene, and fresh her rinde,
And whil'st her braunch faire blossomes foorth did bring,
She fell away against all course of kinde.
For age to dye is right, but youth is wrong;
She fel away like fruit blowne downe with winde.
Weepe, Shepheard! weepe, to make my undersong.
Yet fell she not as one enforst to dye,
Ne dyde with dread and grudging discontent,
But as one toyld with travaile downe doth lye,
So lay she downe, as if to sleepe she went,
And closde her eyes with carelesse quietnesse;
The whiles soft death away her spirit hent,
And soule assoyld from sinfull fleshlinesse.
How happie was I when I saw her leade
The Shepheards daughters dauncing in a rownd!
How trimly would she trace and softly tread
The tender grasse, with rosie garland crownd!
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poem by Edmund Spenser
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Pengellen
Each winter the grey-greying streets of Pengellen
Fall silent as dampness creeps in at the hearth,
And miners and men speak in whispers of heaven,
Of darkness and penance, of copper and dearth.
No children are seen on the streets of Pengellen,
Each wife fears her shadow, and hurries inside,
While mirrors have long been discarded, forgotten
That no man may see what his God may decide.
For so it was once that the men of Pengellen
Were busy and purposeful, masters of time,
The wealth that they won taught that greed was forgiven
Though every man feared, and was ruled by the mine.
For deep in the earth with a pick or a chisel,
A shovel, an oath in a gaelic discourse,
They quarried the bowels of some God-awful midden
To pile the green copper in place of the gorse.
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poem by David Lewis Paget
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Sign Of The Cross
Eleven saintly shrouded men
silhouettes stand against the sky
one in front with a cross held high
come to wash my sins away
Standing alone in the wind and rain
feeling the fear that is growing
Sensing the change in the tide again
brought by the storm that is brewing
Feel the anxiety hold off the fear
some of the doubt in the things you believe
Now that your faith will be put to the test
nothing to do but await what is coming
Why is then God still protecting me
even when I don't deserve it?
Though I am blessed with an inner strenght
some they would call it a penance
Why am I meant to face this alone
asking the question time and again
Praying to God won't keep me alive
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song performed by Iron Maiden
Added by Lucian Velea
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Vesalius In Zante
Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.
I loved light ever, light in eye and brain—
No tapers mirrored in long palace floors,
Nor dedicated depths of silent aisles,
But just the common dusty wind-blown day
That roofs earth’s millions.
O, too long I walked
In that thrice-sifted air that princes breathe,
Nor felt the heaven-wide jostling of the winds
And all the ancient outlawry of earth!
Now let me breathe and see.
This pilgrimage
They call a penance—let them call it that!
I set my face to the East to shrive my soul
Of mortal sin? So be it. If my blade
Once questioned living flesh, if once I tore
The pages of the Book in opening it,
See what the torn page yielded ere the light
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poem by Edith Wharton
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Edward, Edward
'Why does your sword so drip with blood,
Edward, Edward?
Why does your sword so drip with blood?
And why so sad are ye, O?'
'O, I have killed my hawk so good,
Mother, mother:
O I have killed my hawk so good:
And I had no more but he, O.'
'Your hawk's blood was never so red,
Edward, Edward:
Your hawk’s blood was never so red,
My dear son I tell thee, O.'
'O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
Mother, mother:
O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
That once was so fair and free, O.'
'Your steed was old, and we have got more,
Edward, Edward:
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poem by anonym
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rime Of The Ancient Mariner
Hear the rime of the ancient mariner
See his eye as he stops one of three
Mesmerises one of the wedding guests
Stay here and listen to the nightmares of the sea.
And the music plays on, as the bride passes by
Caught by his spell and the mariner tells his tale.
Driven south to the land of the snow and ice
To a place where nobodys been
Through the snow fog flies on the albatross
Hailed in gods name, hoping good luck it brings.
And the ship sails on, back to the north
Through the fog and ice and the albatross follows on.
The mariner kills the bird of good omen
His shipmates cry against what hes done
But when the fog clears, they justify him
And make themselves a part of the crime.
Sailing on and on and north across the sea
Sailing on and on and north til all is calm.
The albatross begins with its vengeance
A terrible curse a thirst has begun
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song performed by Iron Maiden
Added by Lucian Velea
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