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Sonnet LIX

THrise happie she, that is so well assured
Vnto her selfe and setled so in hart:
that nether will for better be allured,
ne feard with worse to any chaunce to start,
But like a steddy ship doth strongly part
the raging waues and keepes her course aright:
ne ought for tempest doth from it depart,
ne ought for fayrer weathers false delight.
Such selfe assurance need not feare the spight,
of grudging foes, ne fauour seek of friends:
but in the stay of her owne stedfast might,
nether to one her selfe nor other bends.
Most happy she that most assured doth rest,
but he most happy who such one loues best.

poem by Edmund Spenser
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XVII)

Job Speaks On:

So broken is my spirit, Lord!
My lamp of life looks extinguished;
Their provocations mount high, God;
My eyes grow dim as I feel mocked;
My burial seems imminent!

Their minds to knowledge are darkened;
They cannot understand therefore.
Evil’s my lot, as they described;
My name to people is by-word;
I am their object of lesson.

Who will stand surety for me?
Grant me one who will pledge for me;
My eyes are blind with anguish, Lord;
My frame is just a shadow, God.

All upright men are astonished;

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poem by John Celes
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XXI)

Then Job in reply said:

Just listen to my words, will you?
Some consolation, that can do;
Please bear with me for what I say;
And after that, mock me, you may.

Did I complain to any man?
What’s wrong with my impatience, then?
Be astonished on seeing me;
By horror afflicted truly.

Why wicked should survive on earth?
How powerful they stay since birth!
And grow up to a ripe old age
That can the righteous well enrage.

Their progeny secure always;
Come timely their kinsfolk’s birthdays;
Their homes are safe by night and day;

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poem by John Celes
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Lines Written in August

The day of tumult, strife, defeat, was o'er;
Worn out with toil, and noise, and scorn, and spleen,
I slumbered, and in slumber saw once more
A room in an old mansion, long unseen.

That room, methought, was curtained from the light;
Yet through the curtains shone the moon's cold ray
Full on a cradle, where, in linen white,
Sleeping life's first soft sleep, an infant lay.

Pale flickered on the hearth the dying flame,
And all was silent in that ancient hall,
Save when by fits on the low night-wind came
The murmur of the distant waterfall.

And lo! the fairy queens who rule our birth
Drew nigh to speak the new-born baby's doom:
With noiseless step, which left no trace on earth,
From gloom they came, and vanished into gloom.

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poem by Thomas Babbington Macaulay
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Country Girl

Fell in love with a country girl, morning sunshine
She was up from a nether world, just to bust another soul
Her eyes were an endless flame, holy lightning
Desire with a special name, made to snatch your soul away, yeah
We sailed away on a crimson tide, gone forever
Left my heart on the other side, all to break it into bits
Her smile was a winter song, a sabbath ending
Dont sleep or youll find me gone, just an image in the air
In dreams I think of you
I dont know what to do with myself
Time has let me down
She brings broken dreams, fallen stars,
The endless search for where you are
(sail on, sail on)
Fell in love with a country girl, morning sunshine
She was up from a nether world, just to bust another soul
Her eyes were an endless flame, unholy lady
Desire with a special name, made to snatch your soul away, oh!
Dont sail away on a crimson tide!
Dont leave your heart on the other side!

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song performed by Black Sabbath
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A Death in the Bush

The hut was built of bark and shrunken slabs,
That wore the marks of many rains, and showed
Dry flaws wherein had crept and nestled rot.
Moreover, round the bases of the bark
Were left the tracks of flying forest fires,
As you may see them on the lower bole
Of every elder of the native woods.

For, ere the early settlers came and stocked
These wilds with sheep and kine, the grasses grew
So that they took the passing pilgrim in
And whelmed him, like a running sea, from sight.

And therefore, through the fiercer summer months,
While all the swamps were rotten; while the flats
Were baked and broken; when the clayey rifts
Yawned wide, half-choked with drifted herbage past,
Spontaneous flames would burst from thence and race
Across the prairies all day long.

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poem by Henry Kendall
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Book the First

Daughters of Beulah! Muses who inspire the Poet’s Song,
Record the journey of immortal Milton thro’ you Realms
Of terror & mild moony luster, in soft sexual delusions
Of varied beauty, to delight the wanderer and repose
His burning thirst & descending down the Nerves of my right arm
From out the Portals of my Brain, where by your ministry
The Eternal Great Humanity Divine planted his Paradise,
And in it caus’d the Spectres of the Dead to take sweet forms
In likeness of himself. Tell also of the False Tongue! vegetated
Beneath your land of shadows, of its sacrifices and
Its offerings, even till Jesus, the image of the Invisible God,
Became its prey – a curse, an offering and an atonement
For Death Eternal in the heavens of Albion, & before the Gates
Of Jerusalem his Emanation, in the heavens beneath Beulah.

Say first! what mov’d Milton, who walk’d about in Eternity
One hundred years, pond’ring the intricate mazes of Providence,
Unhappy tho’ in heav’n – he obey’d, he murmur’d not, he was silent
Viewing his Sixfold Emanation scatter’d thro’ the deep
In torment – To go into the deep, her to redeem & himself perish?

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poem by William Blake from Milton (1810)
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Atomic Punk

I am a victim of the science age, uh
A child of the storm, whoa yes
I cant remember when I was your age
For me, it says no more, no more
Nobody rules these streets at night like me, the atomic punk
Whoa yeah, wow
I am the ruler of these nether worlds
The underground, whoa yes
On every wall and place my fearsome name is heard
Just look around, whoa yes
Nobody rules these streets at night like me, the atomic punk
Ooo, ahhh
I am the ruler of these nether worlds
The underground, oh, oh
On every wall and place my fearsome name is heard
Look around, whoa yeah
Nobody rules these streets at night like me, nobody, ah
The atomic punk
Feel your love tonight
Right

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song performed by Van Halen
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The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The Fourth

Stand on the gleaming Pharos, and aloud
Shout, Commerce, to the kingdoms of the earth;
Shout, for thy golden portals are set wide,
And all thy streamers o'er the surge, aloft,
In pomp triumphant wave. The weary way
That pale Nearchus passed, from creek to creek
Advancing slow, no longer bounds the track
Of the adventurous mariner, who steers
Steady, with eye intent upon the stars,
To Elam's echoing port. Meantime, more high
Aspiring, o'er the Western main her towers
Th' imperial city lifts, the central mart
Of nations, and beneath the calm clear sky,
At distance from the palmy marge, displays
Her clustering columns, whitening to the morn.
Damascus' fleece, Golconda's gems, are there.
Murmurs the haven with one ceaseless hum;
The hurrying camel's bell, the driver's song,
Along the sands resound. Tyre, art thou fall'n?
A prouder city crowns the inland sea,

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poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book II.

Of Walking the Streets by Day.

Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful lays
The proper implements for wintry ways;
Has taught the walker, with judicious eyes,
To read the various warnings of the skies.
Now venture, Muse, from home to range the town,
And for the public safety risk thy own.
For ease and for dispatch, the morning's best;
No tides of passengers the street molest.
You'll see a draggled damsel, here and there,
From Billingsgate her fishy traffic bear;
On doors the sallow milk-maid chalks her gains;
Ah! how unlike the milk-maid of the plains!
Before proud gates attending asses bray,
Or arrogate with solemn pace the way;
These grave physicians with their milky cheer,
The love-sick maid and dwindling beau repair;
Here rows of drummers stand in martial file,
And with their vellum thunder shake the pile,

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poem by John Gay
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