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Custer

BOOK FIRST.

I.

ALL valor died not on the plains of Troy.
Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine the joy
To sing of deeds as dauntless and as brave
As e'er lent luster to a warrior's grave.
Sing of that noble soldier, nobler man,
Dear to the heart of each American.
Sound forth his praise from sea to listening sea-
Greece her Achilles claimed, immortal Custer, we.

II.

Intrepid are earth's heroes now as when
The gods came down to measure strength with men.
Let danger threaten or let duty call,
And self surrenders to the needs of all;
Incurs vast perils, or, to save those dear,

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poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Custer: Book Second

I

Oh, for the power to call to aid, of mine
Own humble Muse, the famed and sacred nine.
Then might she fitly sing, and only then,
Of those intrepid and unflinching men
Who knew no homes save ever moving tents,
And who 'twixt fierce unfriendly elements
And wild barbarians warred. Yet unfraid,
Since love impels thy strains, sing, sing, my modest maid.

II

Relate how Custer in midwinter sought
Far Washita's cold shores; tell why he fought
With savage nomads fortressed in deep snows.
Woman, thou source of half the sad world's woes
And all its joys, what sanguinary strife
Has vexed the earth and made contention rife
Because of thee! For, hidden in man's heart,

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poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Roaring Lion

On a bright sunny day, amidst the African brush-
Playing in the sand, two tiny lion cubs.
Filled with potential, though they be yet small,
Furry balls of terror unaware of the dangers about them all.
They play, in their little sand pit, preparing for what is ahead.
Unaware of it, yet preparing for it.
But lo, as they play, come clouds, a storm is gathering.
As now they cower, suddenly aware that safety is faltering.
The glowing eyes of hideous predators lurk in the dark,
They loom up, watching and waiting, for the moment to strike.
The cubs cower up against the sand, no use to run.
They cringe as darkness veils the sun.
Jaws snap at them, fangs bare. Snarls penetrate their ears.
They wince as their antagonists stand above them, their greatest fear.
No screaming, no yelling. Just a quiet call, so quiet, that you'd barely hear it at all.
Facing their imminent fate, with nothing more than a faint SOS call.
They whimper as the teeth nip their hinds, as their enemies pin them down.
Horror encapsulates them. No way out can be found.
The killer blow comes rushing in - they close their eyes
But something lights up their world - a dazzling white light

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poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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The Last Song From Zion

His shadow floats upon the Earth
Casting a song from the north
Yeshua weeps Zion's song
Thy will of man
My kingdom gone
You, you place all your hatred upon my throne
Your hands they form, they form your own path
Curse the one that has, has made you
I see Cain in all your eyes
I am laying down to go to sleep forever
I do not hide my face in shame at all
I do not cower before your blade
This is what your black hearts pray
Time, it moves as slow, as slow as the ocean's tide
Neon explosion in the haggard sky
No sun shall set, lest we forget
Man's will be done
I am laying down to go to sleep forever
I do not hide my face in shame at all
I do not cower before your blade

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song performed by Zao
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A Defence Of English Spring

Unnamed, unknown, but surely bred
Where Thames, once silver, now runs lead,
Whose journeys daily ebb and flow
'Twixt Tyburn and the bells of Bow,
You late in learnëd prose have told
How, for the happy bards of old,
Spring burst upon Sicilian seas,
Or blossomed in the Cyclades,
But never yet hath deigned to smile
On poets of this shivering isle,
Who, when to vernal strains they melt,
Discourse of joys they never felt,
And, pilfering from each other's page,
Pass on the lie from age to age.

Well, now in turn give ear to me,
Who, with your leave, friend, claim to be,
Degenerate, but withal allied,
At least on mother Nature's side,
To Chaucer, Spenser, Shakespeare, all,

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poem by Alfred Austin
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Kilmeny

Bonnie Kilmeny gaed up the glen;
But it wasna to meet Duneira's men,
Nor the rosy monk of the isle to see,
For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be.
It was only to hear the yorlin sing,
And pu' the cress-flower round the spring;
The scarlet hypp and the hindberrye,
And the nut that hung frae the hazel tree;
For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be.
But lang may her minny look o'er the wa',
But lang may she seek i' the green-wood shaw;
Lang the laird o' Duneira blame,
And lang, lang greet or Kilmeny come hame!

When many a day had come and fled,
When grief grew calm, and hope was dead,
When mess for Kilmeny's soul had been sung,
When the bedesman had pray'd and the dead bell rung,
Late, late in gloamin' when all was still,
When the fringe was red on the westlin hill,

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poem by James Hogg
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Democracy is stronger than terrorism, and we will not cower to the terrorists' campaign of fear.

quote by John Doolittle
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AMOUR De JOUR

Alas, amour can be so fickle
A bee flying flower to flower
Cuts jagged like a rusty sickle
Besets tender hearts to cower

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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When Gaia Reclaims

Satan rules Earth with fear ‘n terror
By seducing men with gold ‘n power
Drunken fools, care not they error
When Gaia reclaims they will cower

ROTMS

poem by Ray Lucero
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What People May Think

Some people cower
and wince and shrink,
owing to the fear of
what people may think.
There is one answer
to worries like these:
people may think
what the devil they please.

poem by Piet Hein
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