A Victory without danger is a triumph without glory.
quote by Pierre Corneille
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When we conquer without danger our triumph is without glory.
quote by Pierre Corneille
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We triumph without glory when we conquer without danger.
quote by Pierre Corneille
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When we conquer without danger our triumph is without glory.
Pierre Corneille in Le Cid (1637)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Danger
There is danger atop our heads;
There is danger around us all;
There is danger beneath our feet;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger in the skies;
There is danger in the seas;
There is danger ev’n on land;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger from earth’s bowels;
There is danger in forests;
There is danger in hills, vales;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger from our brethren;
There is danger from kith, kin;
There is danger from strangers;
There is danger to man and beast!
There is danger within us;
There is danger from space;
There is danger to our soul;
Nevertheless, God protects us.
poem by John Celes
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The Song Of The Pacifist
What do they matter, our headlong hates, when we take the toll of our Dead?
Think ye our glory and gain will pay for the torrent of blood we have shed?
By the cheers of our Victory will the heart of the mother be comforted?
If by the Victory all we mean is a broken and brooding foe;
Is the pomp and power of a glitt'ring hour, and a truce for an age or so:
By the clay-cold hand on the broken blade we have smitten a bootless blow!
If by the Triumph we only prove that the sword we sheathe is bright;
That justice and truth and love endure; that freedom's throned on the height;
That the feebler folks shall be unafraid; that Might shall never be Right;
If this be all: by the blood-drenched plains, by the havoc of fire and fear,
By the rending roar of the War of Wars, by the Dead so doubly dear. . . .
Then our Victory is a vast defeat, and it mocks us as we cheer.
Victory! there can be but one, hallowed in every land:
When by the graves of our common dead we who were foemen stand;
And in the hush of our common grief hand is tendered to hand.
Triumph! Yes, when out of the dust in the splendour of their release
The spirits of those who fell go forth and they hallow our hearts to peace,
And, brothers in pain, with world-wide voice, we clamour that War shall cease.
Glory! Ay, when from blackest loss shall be born most radiant gain;
When over the gory fields shall rise a star that never shall wane:
Then, and then only, our Dead shall know that they have not fall'n in vain.
When our children's children shall talk of War as a madness that may not be;
When we thank our God for our grief to-day, and blazon from sea to sea
In the name of the Dead the banner of Peace . . . that will be Victory.
poem by Robert William Service
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Warriors Of Faith
They search the desert plains
In the land of no return
To seek out the danger, time to burn
They are the rightous ones
Theyve come to claim this land
Like warriors under command
They fight for gold and glory
Proclaim the dead man's land
Into the dungeons they must go
To find the answers, left untold
Under the burning sun
In danger, eye to eye
They all now that someone must die
Into the well theyre falling
Past immortality
Led by temptation and devotion
Rendered deathless by the touch of the sword
Onwards victory, let us hear your battle cry
The enemies, will renounce or die
Hail the warriors of faith
Together they march through the fire
Forever theyre lost in this world
Onwards victory, let us hear your battle cry
The enemies, will renounce or die
Eternally, they will fall under the sign
Of victory, fighting all for one
Hail the the warriors of faith
song performed by by Hammerfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hark! The Herald Angels Sing
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory, glory to, glory to,
The new born King...
Glory, glory, glory, glory, glory...
Glory to the new born King
Hark! the herald angels sing, Glory to the new born King
Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled
Joyful all ye nations rise, join the triumph of the skies
With angelic host proclaim, Christ is born in Bethlehem
Hark! the herald angels sing, Glory to the new born King
Glory, glory, glory, (oh yeah) glory, glory
Glory to the new born King
Glory (glory) glory, (yeah) glory, glory...
Glory...
Hark! the herald angels sing,
Glory... Glory...
Hail! the heaven-born Prince of Peace; Hail the son of Righteousness
Light and life to all He brings, risen with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by, born that man, no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth, born to give them second birth
Hark! the herald angels sing, Glory to the new born...
[Ad Libs]
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Victory was not mine
The victory was yours.
And it still is victory belongs to you.
Victory was not mine.
You hurt me you hurt me.
You've scared me.
And yet the victory is yours.
You still continue to beat me.
You torture me every day.
Even though you raped me.
You still win.
And the victory is yours.
Its not fair you have the victory.
When you are evil personalised.
You are the peice of scum
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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An Ode To A Lady. She Refusing To Continue A Dispute With Me, And Leaving Me In The Argument
Spare, generous victor, spare the slave,
Who did unequal war pursue;
That more than triumph he might have,
In being overcome by you.
In the dispute, whate'er I said,
My heart was by my tongue belied;
And in my looks you might have read
How much I argued on your side.
You, far from danger as from fear,
Might have sustain'd an open fight;
For seldom your opinions err,
Your eyes are always in the right.
Why, fair one, would you not rely
On reason's force with beauty's join'd?
Could I their prevalence deny,
I must at once be deaf and blind.
Alas! not hoping to subdue,
I only to the fight aspired:
To keep the beauteous foe in view
Was all the glory I desired.
But she, howe'er of victory sure,
Contemns the wreath too long delay'd:
And arm'd with more immediate power,
Calls cruel silence to her aid.
Deeper to wound she shuns the fight;
She drops her arms, to gain the field;
Secures her conquest by her flight;
And triumphs, when she seems to yield.
So when the Parthian turn'd his steed,
And from the hostile camp withdrew,
With cruel skill the backward reed
He sent; and, as he fled, he slew.
poem by Matthew Prior
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My Glory Is Not The Glory of God
MY GLORY IS NOT THE GLORY OF G-D
My glory is not the glory of G-d
I do not know what the glory of God is-
I do not know my own glory.
Glory glory glory
What’s glory?
We are small lost souls in a space and time so far beyond us
It is difficult to imagine
Even God knows how to deal with it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Knowing
There is a danger of knowing too much
knowing too much danger
Crossing a road without looking
Taking a risk with your cooking
A danger in knowing
There is a danger in knowing too much
Having digitalised lives
synched to computer
GOOGLED
There is a danger
Is there a danger in knowing?
Too much danger?
Too much knowing?
Too much?
we have/are becoming
More like a shopping mall
Packed full of brands
And gadgets
our apps additives
There is a danger of losing your child
In a shopping mall
Losing your self
In the underground
A danger in knowing
A danger in looking
The sign
The times
Are a changing
A danger of unseeing
Unliving
A danger of touching the edge of extinction
Without feeling
Bottled emotions
Formaladehyde Brains
Mask for a face
Stone for a heart
There is on a lighter note
A danger in eating my cooking
Knowing too much
Too soon
Too late
or a danger of knowing nothing
Simply eating what's arrived on your plate
poem by Yvette Smith
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Let My People Go!
Thank God a Southern triumph was not to be;
victory for the South was victory for slavery!
'We too fight for freedom, our Captain is God, '
but did you not know, all are created equal, by God?
Therefore be your brother white black red or yellow,
free your brother, cruel fields of slavery, must fall fallow!
Written as a rebuttal to ‘We Conquer or Die’ by John Pierpont. The above quoted line is from ‘We Conquer or Die’.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Victory
Victory never comes from power over others
Real victory only comes from victory over self
Nothings gained from fighting your brothers’
For victory can’t be purchased “Off the shelf”
poem by Ray Lucero
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Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Triumph of the People
LO, the gods of Vice and Mammon from their pinnacles are hurled
By the workers’ new religion, which is oldest in the world;
And the earth will feel her children treading firmly on the sod,
For the triumph of the People is the victory of God.
Not the victory of Churches, nor of Punishment and Wrath,
Not the triumph of the sceptic, throwing shadows on the path,
But of Christ and love and mercy o’er the Monarch and the Rod,
For the harvest of the Saviour is the aftermath of God.
O the Light of Revelation, since the reign of Care began,
Has been shining through the ages on the darkened eyes of man.
And the willing slave of Error—he is senseless as a clod—
For the simple Book of Nature is the written scroll of God.
Who will dare to say the sunlight on the pregnant Earth was shed
That the few might rest and fatten, while the many fight for bread?
Lo, there springs a common garden, where the foot of Greed hath trod,
For the victory of Labour was the prophecy of God.
Mother Earth, in coming seasons, shall fulfil her motherhood;
Then the children of her bosom never more shall want for food,
And oppression shall no longer grind the people iron-shod;
For the lifted hand of Labour is the upraised hand of God.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Partnership
Yes, you have it; I can see.
Beautiful?… Dear, look at me!
Look and let my shame confess
Triumph after weariness.
Beautiful? Ah, yes.
Lift it where the beams are bright;
Hold it where the western light,
Shining in above my bed,
Throws a glory on your head.
Now it is all said.
All there was for me to say
From the first until to-day.
Long denied and long deferred,
Now I say it in one word—
Now; and you have heard.
Life would have its way with us,
And I’ve called it glorious:
For I know the glory now
And I read it on your brow.
You have shown me how.
I can feel your cheeks all wet,
But your eyes will not forget:
In the frown you cannot hide
I can read where faith and pride
Are not satisfied.
But the word was, two should live:
Two should suffer—and forgive:
By the steep and weary way,
For the glory of the clay,
Two should have their day.
We have toiled and we have wept
For the gift the gods have kept:
Clashing and unreconciled
When we might as well have smiled,
We have played the child.
But the clashing is all past,
And the gift is yours at last.
Lift it—hold it high again!…
Did I doubt you now and then?
Well, we are not men.
Never mind; we know the way,—
And I do not need to stay.
Let us have it well confessed:
You to triumph, I to rest.
That will be the best.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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I read a statement in a newspaper
I read a statement in a newspaper
That Twentyman, the manufacturer,
Found it was cheaper to deliver goods
By horse and lorry than by motor-truck
Or motor-van. So he had sold his trucks
To purchase horses. He dismissed those men
Who had mechanics' minds to re-employ
Drivers of horses, friends of animals.
Then life grew stronger in me because life
Had triumphed in this case and would perhaps
Finally triumph over the machine.
Even such mean commercial victory
Being better than no victory at all.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Dumb Money
I have quarters and halves,
These are the parts of triumph.
My name carries news of seeking money,
Yet victory demands the result.
Money is a stable community,
Rich people concern us when dumb.
I have full flavours of food,
Like the kings and queens of blood.
We have seen the knowledge of men
Who believe in qualities too great.
We must defend our rights of life
As life is a commander of triumph.
The rich people demand an apology
For the way we describe and feel.
poem by Naveed Akram
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