France, famed in all great arts, in none supreme.
quote by Matthew Arnold
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now Art has lost its mental Charms
Now Art has lost its mental Charmst
France shall subdue the World in Arms
So spoke an Angel at my birth
Then said Descend thou upon Earth
Renew the Arts on Britains Shore
And France shall fall down and adore
With works of Art their Armies meet
And War shall sink beneath thy feett
But if thy Nation Arts refuse
And if they scorn the immortal Muse
France shall the arts of Peace restore
And save thee from the Ungrateful shoret
Spirit who lovst Brittannias Islet
Round which the Fiends of Commerce smilet
[unfinished]
[Dedication to Blake's Illustrations to Blair's Grave, printed 1808]
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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We're under the Arts Council under the Minister for the Arts. The Minister for the Arts and the Minister for Industrial Development have great difficulty in agreeing over who should fund what in terms of film.
quote by Ann Macbeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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France, mother of arts, of warfare, and of laws.
quote by Joachim du Bellay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A day will come when there will be no battlefields, but markets opening to commerce and minds opening to ideas. A day will come when the bullets and bombs are replaced by votes, by universal suffrage, by the venerable arbitration of a great supreme senate which will be to Europe what Parliament is to England, the Diet to Germany, and the Legislative Assembly to France. A day will come when a cannon will be a museum-piece, as instruments of torture are today. And we will be amazed to think that these things once existed!
quote by Victor Hugo
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dear Motherland Of France
DEDICATED TO THE MEN AND WOMEN OF FRANCE
Our Motherland, dear Motherland,
The source of beauty and of Art,
Who but thy children understand
The love which permeates each heart!
We see, through rainbow-tints of tears,
Thy glory of a thousand years.
O country of the Great and Free,
We live for thee, we live for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
O Motherland, both blithe and brave,
What magic lies in thy name-France!
Yet can thy radiant mien be grave,
And stern thy ever-smiling glance.
And when thy sons and daughters know
That enemies would lay thee low
And dim thy fame on land and sea,
We fight for thee, we fight for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
Dear Motherland of joy and mirth,
Dear Motherland of faith divine,
A thousand years the wondering earth
Has seen thy star in splendour shine.
Still shall it see that star of France
Its splendour and its light enhance.
Dear Motherland, when it need be
We die for thee, we die for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Spirit Of Great Joan
Back of each soldier who fights for France,
Aye, back of each woman and man
Who toils and prays through these long tense days.
Is the spirit of Great Joan.
For the love she gave, and the life she gave,
In the eyes of God sufficed
To crown her with light, and power, and might,
That made her second to Christ.
And so in that hour at the Marne she came,
To the seeing eyes of men;
And the blind of view still felt and knew
That her spirit had come again.
And she will come in each crucial hour
And joy shall follow despair,
For Joan sees her France on its knees
And she hears the voice of its prayer.
There is no hate in the heart of France,
But a mighty moral force
That takes its stand for her worshipped land,
And cannot be swerved from its course.
For this is the way with France to-day,
Her courage comes from faith,
And she bends her knee ere she straightens her arm;
In her forward rush toward death.
A jungle of beasts in the heart of the Hun-
War to the world laid bare.
And war has revealed, that France concealed,
Only the lion's lair.
A lioness fighting to save her own,
She fights as a lioness can,
And strength to the end shall the Unseen send,
In the spirit of Great Joan.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abortion Clinics May 13 2011
Are Canadians being replaced by those who believe?
That a holocaust of unborn babies is a way to achieve?
And subsequent population reduction will be great?
They even ensure that this subject is never up for debate.
Appointees in the Supreme Court are much higher than god,
With a hidden agenda and a politically correct nod,
Their Supreme Court decision on abortions proved one thing,
Death with dignity is out but abortion holocaust is in.
How does one get an appointment to the Supreme Court?
Is that question too delicate where women are allowed to abort?
But the Supreme Court made that law involving unborn baby deaths,
Babies before they had a chance to take their first breath.
May 13th,2011
poem by James Bredin
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I have come to believe that a great teacher is a great artist and that there are as few as there are any other great artists. Teaching might even be the greatest of the arts since the medium is the human mind and spirit.
quote by John Steinbeck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Must we be put to shame by much smaller and poorer countries, by Ireland, France, Austria or Sweden, who have understood that a nation's support of its arts is a matter of both national pride and cultural survival?
quote by Theodore Bikel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Having viewed Europe as an extension and projection of itself, France now finds Europe developing a mind and identity of its own which embraces France but is not controlled by France.
quote by Peter Mandelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the Death of Adrienne Lecouvreur, A Celebrated Actress
Hat sight of woe thus harrows up my soul!
Must those love-darting eyes in anguish roll?
Shall ghastly death such charms divine invade?
You muses, graces, loves come to her aid.
Oh! you my gods and hers assist the fair,
Your image sure must well deserve your care.
Alas! thou diest, I press thy corpse alone;
Thou diest, the fatal news too soon is known.
In such a loss, each tender feeling heart
Is touched like mine, and takes in grief a part.
I hear the arts on every side deplore
Their loss, and cry, 'Melpomene's no more:'
What exclamations will the future race
Utter, at hearing of those arts' disgrace?
See cruel men a burying place refuse,
To her whom Greece had worshipped as a muse;
When living, they adored her power divine,
To her they bowed like votaries at a shrine:
Should she then, breathless, criminal be thought,
And is it then to charm the world a fault?
Seine's [1] banks should now no more be deemed profane,
Lecouvreur's sacred ashes there remain:
At this sad tomb, shrine sacred to thy shade,
Our vows are still as at a temple paid.
I don't revere the famed St. Denis more,
Thy graces, charms, and wit, I there adore:
I loved them living, incense now I'll burn,
And pay due honors to thy sacred urn.
Though error and ingratitude are bent,
To brand with infamy thy monument.
Shall Frenchmen never know what they require,
But damn capriciously what they admire?
Must laws with manners jar? Must every mind
In France, be made by superstition blind?
Wherefore should England be the only clime,
Where to think freely is not deemed a crime?
Oh! London, Athens' rival, thou alone,
Could tyrants, and could prejudice dethrone;
In that blest region, general freedom reigns,
Merit is honored, and reward obtains:
Marlborough the greatest general of his age,
Harmonious Dryden, Addison the sage,
Immortal Newton, charming Oldfield there,
The honors due to real genius share.
The farce of life had there Lecouvreur closed
With heroes, statesmen, kings she had reposed;
Genius at London makes its owner great,
Freedom and wealth have in that happy state,
Procured the inhabitants immortal fame,
They rival now the Greek and Roman name.
Parnassian laurels wither in our fields,
And France no more a crop of merit yields:
Wherefore you gods do all our glories fade,
Why is not honor due to genius paid?
To me, the extraordinary aspect of martial arts lies in its simplicity. The easy way is also the right way, and martial arts is nothing at all special; the closer to the true way of martial arts, the less wastage of expression there is.
Fishing Can Be A Dynamic Communion
Fishing is an apparently simple experience
that swiftly transforms into life dynamic communion
appreciation of water lit nature with the rush
of a gambler about to beat stacked odds in casino.
There are famed fishermen who mount fish upon walls.
There are famed gamblers who break cause casino to fall.
There are famed disciples who left fish became wise fishers of men.
There are faithful honest unknown believers going to heaven. Amen.
First stanza inspired by ‘I Love To Go Fishing’ by Juan Olivarez.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Character is supreme in life, hence Jesus stood supreme in the supreme thing - so supreme that, when we think of the ideal, we do not add virtue to virtue, but think of Jesus Christ, so that the standard of human life is no longer a code but a character.
quote by E. Stanley Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cow Town
(carly simon)
Donald swan, he was a millionaire
>from a texas oil family
But he still worked hard and believed in god
He was a man of integrity
He went to france on business
Met a woman there named simone
She saw love in the eyes of the american guy
And she didnt like to be alone
(chorus)
Now its a cow town
Its a cow town
For simone swann
Living on the buffalo bayou
She packed up all her perfume
For the gusty pioneer
On a carefree note he said, forget your coat
Theres a chill about every ten years
So they flew hand in hand to houston
Home of exxon, gulf and shell
He said we have an income bigger than france
We all think thats swell
He loved her french accent
And her knowledge of the arts
And she, for one, had always fancied
Having a millionaire sweetheart
So they got married up in dripping springs
Flew her mama in from cannes
She said: what kind of romance could make
My baby leave france
Donald must be some kind of don juan
Now she thinks about france and the nightlife there
And its cafes and bistros
Donald, a hard working, simple man
Likes to see the livestock shows
And when hes not off on business
Hes off checkin out cows and pigs
And she gets weary on a twelve mile prairie
Starin at the drilling rigs
Now its a cow town
Its a cow town
For simone swann
Living on the buffalo bayou
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An heroic address to [Oxford], concerning the combined utility and dignity of military affairs and o
This is my welcome; this is how I have decided to bid All Hail!
to thee and to the other Nobles.
Thy splendid fame, great Earl, demands even more than in the case of others
the services of a poet possessing lofty eloquence.
Thy merit doth not creep along the ground,
nor can it be confined within the limits of a song.
It is a wonder which reaches as far as the heavenly orbs.
O great-hearted one, strong in thy mind and thy fiery will,
thou wilt conquer thyself, thou wilt conquer others;
thy glory will spread out in all directions beyond the Arctic Ocean;
and England will put thee to the test and prove thee to be native-born Achilles.
Do thou but go forward boldly and without hesitation.
Mars will obey thee, Hermes will be thy messenger,
Pallas striking her shield with her spear shaft will attend thee,
thine own breast and courageous heart will instruct thee.
For long time past Phoebus Apollo has cultivated thy mind in the arts.
English poetical measures have been sung by thee long enough.
Let that Courtly Epistle —
more polished even than the writings of Castiglione himself —
witness how greatly thou dost excel in letters.
I have seen many Latin verses of thine, yea,
even more English verses are extant;
thou hast drunk deep draughts not only of the Muses of France and Italy,
but hast learned the manners of many men, and the arts of foreign countries.
It was not for nothing that Sturmius , himself was visited by thee;
neither in France, Italy, nor Germany are any such cultivated and polished men.
O thou hero worthy of renown, throw away the insignificant pen, throw away bloodless books,
and writings that serve no useful purpose; now must the sword be brought into play,
now is the time for thee to sharpen the spear and to handle great engines of war.
On all sides men are talking of camps and of deadly weapons; war and the Furies are everywhere,
and Bellona reigns supreme.
Now may all martial influences support thy eager mind, driving out the cares of Peace.
Pull Hannibal up short at the gates of Britain. Defended though he be by a mighty host,
let Don John of Austria come on only to be driven home again. Fate is unknown to man,
nor are the counsels of the Thunderer fully determined.
And what if suddenly a most powerful enemy should invade our borders?
If the Turk should be arming his savage hosts against us?
What though the terrible war trumpet is even now sounding its blast?
Thou wilt see it all; even at this very moment thou art fiercely longing for the fray.
I feel it. Our whole country knows it.
In thy breast is noble blood, Courage animates thy brow, Mars lives in thy tongue,
Minerva strengthen thy right hand, Bellona reigns in thy body, within thee burns the fire of Mars.
Thine eyes flash fire, thy countenance shakes a spear;
who would not swear that Achilles had come to life again?
poem by Gabriel Harvey
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Speak
Obscured the sun, the world is dark;
Maid of Orleans, Joan of Arc,
Send down thy spark.
Let every heart in France be stirred,
By such an all-compelling word
As thou once heard.
Say to each soul, 'Lo! I am near;
My voice still speaks in accents clear.
Be still and hear.
'The France I saved can not be lost;
Though tempest-torn and terror-tossed,
Count not the cost.
'Give as the maid of Domrémy
Gave all-gave life itself to see
Her country free.
'Back of great France my spirit towers
To aid her through the darkest hours
With God's own powers!'
Maid of Orleans, Joan of Arc
Shine through the night, speak through the dark
The while we hark.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Lost In France
(ronnie scott/steve wolfe)
Producers for bonnie: david mackay, ronnie scott, steve wolfe
I was lost in france
In the fields the birds were singing
I was lost in france
And the day was just beginning
As I stood there in the morning rain
I had a feeling I cant explain
I was lost in france in love
I was lost in france
In the street a band was playing
And the crowd all danced
Didnt catch what they were saying
When I looked up he was standing there
And I knew I shouldnt but I didnt care
I was lost in france in love
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
I was lost in france
And the vines were over-flowing
I was lost in france
And a million stars were glowing
And I looked round for a telephone
To say baby I wont be home
I was lost in france in love
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
And I looked round for a telephone
To say baby I wont be home
I was lost in france in love
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing
Ooh la la la ooh la la la dance
Ooh la la la dancing...out
song performed by by Bonnie Tyler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Dwd Oct 8th,2012
Death with dignity was not mentioned in Trudeau's Charter of Rights,
Therefore our politicians avoid this issue with great delight,
But our Supreme Court banned it and Sue Rodriguez had to die,
Their rule was law for all Canadians and it had to apply.
The Americans in Oregon and Washington have it now,
It's a state issue there and doesn't seem to cause any row,
It's where Americans can decide when and where and how to die,
But Canadians are banned though no one really knows why.
Quebec might try to make it a provincial issue here,
Where Quebecois could look forward to death with no great fear,
So it's obvious that this issue is not going away soon,
Unfortunately the Supreme Court is not known to change its tune.
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do Canadians Comprehend
Why are Canadians forbidden death with dignity now?
Why has our secret-list appointed Supreme Court disallowed?
Why did they forbid Sue Rodriguez who was in great pain?
With Lou Gehrig's disease while her life slowly drained.
Is it religion, faith, their divine power or some other cause?
Or are they looking for friendly applause somewhere, just because?
Because this is a very serious life and death matter,
For all Canadians when their lives might be shattered.
While Ottawa Supreme Court aristocrats float above the ground,
While we are in great Lou Gehrig pain down here and they look down,
And our party politicians have their own agenda to attend,
Do they think they will never die so no need to comprehend?
poem by James Bredin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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