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Byron

Canto the Fourth

I
Nothing so difficult as a beginning
In poesy, unless perhaps the end;
For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning
The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend,
Like Lucifer when hurl'd from heaven for sinning;
Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend,
Being pride, which leads the mind to soar too far,
Till our own weakness shows us what we are.

II
But Time, which brings all beings to their level,
And sharp Adversity, will teach at last
Man, -- and, as we would hope, -- perhaps the devil,
That neither of their intellects are vast:
While youth's hot wishes in our red veins revel,
We know not this -- the blood flows on too fast;
But as the torrent widens towards the ocean,
We ponder deeply on each past emotion.

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The man is a success who has lived well, laughed often, and loved much who has gained the respect of intelligent men and the love of children who has filled his niche and accomplished his task who leaves the world better than he found it, whether by an improved poppy, a perfect poem, or a rescued soul who never lacked appreciation of earth's beauty or failed to express it who looked for the best in others and gave the best he had.

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Poem Song

I like to call you my wild horse
(and feed you silver sage ? )
Id like to paint my poems with
Desert tongued clay across her back
And ride you savagely as the sweet and southern wind
Through green and wild kentucky
Id like to make you my secret song
Blaze and dark and red in the orchards
And I would steal away to watch the way
Your silver belly bends and bows beneath me
Id make you my wings in the foothills of montana
My lover in the oceans of the world
Id make you... of children
And I would scatter you across my green memories of home
Id make you my hungry valley
And sow your golden fields and wheats my own
If I were a painter
I would paint you with this note
Silver traces on your skin
And if I were a writer

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Off To See The Lizard

Off to see the lizard
By: jimmy buffett, jay oliver
1989
I was raised by a maid who came from martinique
She wore geckos around her neck and bracelets on her feet
A superstitious woman from the land of sugar cane
Shed sing the sun to bed and dance out in the rain
Dance out, dance out, dance out in the rain
Shed excite us with a legend that the africans told
About a red iguanna who turned lava into gold
Wed mount an expedition heading up into the bay
Superstitious children playing pirate for the day
Chorus:
Off to see the lizard
Off to see the lizard
Deja deja deja vu
Believe it and it will come true
Veja veja veja du
What works for me might work for you
Being rich an famous seems to have its ups and downs

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The Box

This poem was first released on the poems, prayers and promises album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Once upon a time in the land of hushabye
Around about the wondrous days of yore
I came across a sort of box
Bound up with chains and locked with locks
And labelled kindly do not touch, its war
Decree was issued round about
All with a flourish and a shout
And a gaily coloured mascot tripping lightly on before
Dont fiddle with this deadly box or break the chains or pick the locks
And please, dont ever play about with war
Well, the children understood
Children happen to be good
They were just as good around the time of yaw
They didnt try to pick the locks, or break into that deadly box
They never tried to play about with war
Mummies didnt either
Sisters, aunts, grannies neither
Cause they were quiet and sweet and pretty in those wondrous days of yaw
Well, very much the same as now, not the ones to blame somehow

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Little Green

Born with the moon in cancer
Choose her a name she will answer to
Call her green and the winters cannot fade her
Call her green for the children whove made her
Little green, be a gypsy dancer
He went to california
Hearing that everythings warmer there
So you write him a letter and say, her eyes are blue.
He sends you a poem and shes lost to you
Little green, hes a non-conformer
Ch0rus:
Just a little green
Like the color when the spring is born
Therell be crocuses to bring to school tomorrow
Just a little green
Like the nights when the northern lights perform
Therell be icicles and birthday clothes
And sometimes therell be sorrow
Child with a child pretending
Weary of lies you are sending home

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The Box

On the top shelf in the closet,
In the workshop where he spent his extra time
Was a dust wooden box _that I had never noticed till that time
And we set on the table and carefully, we opened up the top
And stared into the memory_daddy kept inside the box
There was a letter from mamma, when she went out to reno
To help her sister out in 62
And a flower from hawaii, when they went on vacation
It was the first time that my daddy ever flew
And the pocket knife I gave__to him on fathers day
Years ago, I thought it had been lost
We all thought his heart was made from solid rock
But that was long before we found the box
I guess we always knew it_but I love you was hard for him to say
Some men show it easy and some just never seem to find the way
But that night I began__to see the softer side of some I had lost
I saw the love he kept inside the first time_we opened up the box
There was a picture that was taken,when he and mom were dating
Standing by his 1944,
And the faded leather bible, he got when he was baptised

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Third Book

'TO-DAY thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downwards.
If He spoke
To Peter then, He speaks to us the same;
The word suits many different martyrdoms,
And signifies a multiform of death,
Although we scarcely die apostles, we,
And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth.

For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,

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poem by from Aurora Leigh (1856)Report problemRelated quotes
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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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,

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Cleon

"As certain also of your own poets have said"—

[An imaginary person. The poet quoted by St. Paul was Aratus, a native of Tarsus.]

Cleon the poet (from the sprinkled isles,
Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea,
And laugh their pride when the light wave lisps "Greece")—
To Protus in his Tyranny: much health!

They give thy letter to me, even now:
I read and seem as if I heard thee speak.
The master of thy galley still unlades
Gift after gift; they block my court at last
And pile themselves along its portico
Royal with sunset, like a thought of thee:
And one white she-slave from the group dispersed
Of black and white slaves (like the chequer-work
Pavement, at once my nation's work and gift,
Now covered with this settle-down of doves),
One lyric woman, in her crocus vest

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