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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=464752" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Words</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Is it not brave to be a king, Techelles,-- <br>Usumcasane and Theridamas, <br>Is it not passing brave to be a king, <br>And ride in triumph through Persepolis? --MARLOWE</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Bring the great words that scourge the thundering line<br>With lust and slaughter-words that reek of doom<br>And the lost battle and the ruined shrine;--<br>Words dire and black as midnight on a tomb;<br>Hushed speech of waters on the lip of gloom;<br>Huge sounds of death and plunder in the night;--<br>Words whose vast plumes above the ages meet,<br>Girdling the lost, dark centuries in their flight,<br>The slave of their unfetterable feet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bring words as pure as rills of earliest Spring<br>In some far cranny of the hillside born<br>To stitch against the earth's green habiting;--<br>Words lonely as the long, blue fields of morn;--<br>Words on the wistful lyre of winds forlorn<br>To the sad ear of grief from distance blown;<br>Thin bleat of fawn and airy babble of birds;<br>Sounds of bright water slipping on the stone<br>Where the thrilled fountain pipes to woodland words.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bring passionate words from noontide's slumber roused,<br>To slake the amorous lips of love with fruit,<br>Dripping with honey, and with syrups drowsed<br>To draw bee-murmurs from the dreaming lute-<br>Words gold and mad and headlong in pursuit<br>Of laughter; words that are too sweet to say<br>And fade, unsaid, upon some rose's mouth;--<br>Words soft as winds that ever blow one way,<br>The summer way, the long way from the south.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For such words have high lineage, and were known<br>Of Milton once, whose heart on theirs still beats;<br>Marlowe hurled forth huge stars to make them crown;<br>They are stained still with the dying lips of Keats;<br>As queen they trod the cloak in Shakespeare's streets;<br>Pale hands of Shelley gently guard their flame;<br>Chatterton's heart was burst upon their spears:<br>Their dynasty unbroken, and their name<br>Music in men's mouths for all men's ears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But now they are lost, their lordliest 'scutcheon stained;<br>Upon their ruined walls no trumpet rings;<br>Their shrines defiled, their sacraments profaned:<br>Men crown the crow, they have given the jackal wings.<br>Slaves wear the peplum, beggars ride as kings.<br>They couple foolish words and look for birth<br>Of mighty emperor, Christ or Avatar,<br>They mate with slaves from whom no king comes forth;<br>No child is theirs who follow not the Star.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Muriel+Stuart">Muriel Stuart</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=464752" data-title="Words de Muriel Stuart" data-description="Is it not brave to be a king, Techelles,-- 
Usumcasane and Theridamas, 
Is it not passing brave to be a king, 
And ride in triumph through Persepolis? --MARLOWE


Bring the great words that scourge the thundering line
With lust and slaughter-words..."></div>
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