Related quotes: In vain you boast Poetic...

Impromptu, to Lady Winchelsea

In vain you boast Poetic Names of yore,
And cite those Sapho's we admire no more:
Fate doom'd the Fall of ev'ry Female Wit,
But doom'd it then when first Ardelia writ.
Of all Examples by the World confest,
I knew Ardelia could not quote the best;
Who, like her Mistress on Britannia's Throne;
Fights, and subdues in Quarrels not her own.
To write their Praise you but in vain essay;
Ev'n while you write, you take that Praise away:
Light to the Stars the Sun does thus restore,
But shines himself till they are seen no more.

poem by Alexander Pope
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

To Mr. F. Now Earl of W

No sooner, FLAVIO, was you gone,
But, your Injunction thought upon,
ARDELIA took the Pen;
Designing to perform the Task,
Her FLAVIO did so kindly ask,
Ere he returned agen.

Unto Parnassus strait she sent,
And bid the Messenger, that went
Unto the Muses Court,
Assure them, she their Aid did need,
And begg'd they'd use their utmost Speed,
Because the Time was short.

The hasty Summons was allow'd;
And being well-bred, they rose and bow'd,
And said, they'd poste away;
That well they did ARDELIA know,
And that no Female's Voice below
They sooner wou'd obey:

That many of that rhiming Train,
On like Occasions, sought in vain
Their Industry t'excite;
But for ARDELIA all they'd leave:
Thus flatt'ring can the Muse deceive,
And wheedle us to write.

Yet, since there was such haste requir'd;
To know the Subject 'twas desir'd,
On which they must infuse;
That they might temper Words and Rules,
And with their Counsel carry Tools,
As Country-Doctors use.

Wherefore to cut off all Delays,
'Twas soon reply'd, a Husband's Praise
(Tho' in these looser Times)
ARDELIA gladly wou'd rehearse
A Husband's, who indulg'd her Verse,
And now requir'd her Rimes.

A Husband! eccho'd all around:
And to Parnassus sure that Sound
Had never yet been sent;
Amazement in each Face was read,
In haste th'affrighted Sisters fled,
And unto Council went.

Erato cry'd, since Grizel's Days,
Since Troy-Town pleas'd, and Chivey-chace,
No such Design was known;
And 'twas their Bus'ness to take care,
It reach'd not to the publick Ear,
Or got about the Town:

Nor came where Evening Beaux were met
O'er Billet-doux and Chocolate,
Lest it destroy'd the House;
For in that Place, who cou'd dispence
(That wore his Cloaths with common Sense)
With mention of a Spouse?

'Twas put unto the Vote at last,
And in the Negative it past,
None to her Aid shou'd move;
Yet since ARDELIA was a Friend,
Excuses 'twas agreed to send,
Which plausible might prove:

That Pegasus of late had been
So often rid thro' thick and thin,
With neither Fear nor Wit;
In Panegyrick been so spurr'd
He cou'd not from the Stall be stirr'd,
Nor wou'd endure the Bit.

Melpomene had given a Bond,
By the new House alone to stand,
And write of War and Strife;
Thalia, she had taken Fees,
And Stipends from the Patentees,
And durst not for her Life.

Urania only lik'd the Choice;
Yet not to thwart the publick Voice,
She whisp'ring did impart:
They need no Foreign Aid invoke,
No help to draw a moving Stroke,
Who dictate from the Heart.

Enough! the pleas'd ARDELIA cry'd;
And slighting ev'ry Muse beside,
Consulting now her Breast,
Perceiv'd that ev'ry tender Thought,
Which from abroad she'd vainly sought,
Did there in Silence rest:

And shou'd unmov'd that Post maintain,
Till in his quick Return again,
Met in some neighb'ring Grove,
(Where Vice nor Vanity appear)
Her FLAVIO them alone might hear,
In all the Sounds of Love.

For since the World do's so despise
Hymen's Endearments and its Ties,
They shou'd mysterious be;
Till We that Pleasure too possess
(Which makes their fancy'd Happiness)
Of stollen Secrecy.

poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Brittania's Throne

MIRROR of the trackless sky,
Priestess of its changing mood,
Ere thy shores were piled on high
Thou didst feel God’s Spirit brood;
Thou didst hear His word alone;—
Be thou still Britannia’s throne.

From thy deeps the creeping things
Spread through cove and brook and fen,
Changing scales for soaring wings
And the mould of mortal men;
From thy womb the world hath grown!
Be thou still Britannia’s throne.

Then among the happier ones
Filing in millennial train,
Thou didst make us favoured sons,
Teaching us to rule and reign:
Thou didst call us for thine own—
Be thou still Britannia’s throne.

Mighty Mistress, thou didst school
England’s heart in all thy ways;
May she learn no nicer rule
In the ease of after days;
For the greatness we have known
Be thou still Britannia’s throne.

For the passion of our plea,
For the memory of our brave,
For the fights we fought for thee,
For the bones that thou dost lave,
For the love that we have shown!
Be thou still Britannia’s throne.

poem by Arthur Maquarie
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Staging An Escape

Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.

Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.

Some nights.
Most days...
I'm craving,
A taste of heated fever.
To save,
Myself...
From raging,
And staging an escape.

Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.

Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Baby! Doom bah doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.

Some nights.
Most days...
I'm craving,
A taste of heated fever.
To save,
Myself...
From raging,
And staging an escape...
From you.
Baby! Doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom,
From you...
Baby! Doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom,
From you...
Baby! Doom bah doom.
Boom baby doom,
From you...
oooooooo

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Friendship Between Ephelia And Ardelia

Eph. What Friendship is, ARDELIA shew.
Ard. 'Tis to love, as I love You.
Eph. This Account, so short (tho' kind)
Suits not my enquiring Mind.
Therefore farther now repeat;
What is Friendship when complete?
Ard. 'Tis to share all Joy and Grief;
'Tis to lend all due Relief
From the Tongue, the Heart, the Hand;
'Tis to mortgage House and Land;
For a Friend be sold a Slave;
'Tis to die upon a Grave,
If a Friend therein do lie.
Eph. This indeed, tho' carry'd high,
This, tho' more than e'er was done
Underneath the rolling Sun,
This has all been said before.
Can ARDELIA say no more?
Ard. Words indeed no more can shew:
But 'tis to love, as I love you.

poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

In Vain

The stars in the sky
In vain
The tragedy of Hamlet
In vain
The key in the lock
In vain
The sleeping mother
In vain
The lamp in the corner
In vain
The lamp in the corner unlit
In vain
Abraham Lincoln
In vain
The Aztec empire
In vain
The writing hand: in vain
(The shoetrees in the shoes
In vain
The windowshade string upon
the hand bible
In vain—
The glitter of the greenglass
ashtray
In vain
The bear in the woods
In vain
The Life of Buddha
In vain)

poem by Jack Kerouac
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

To The Painter Of An Ill-drawn Picture of Cleone

Sooner I'd praise a Cloud which Light beguiles,
Than thy rash Hand which robs this Face of Smiles;
And does that sweet and pleasing Air control,
Which to us paints the fair CLEONE's Soul.
'Tis vain to boast of Rules or labour'd Art;
I miss the Look that captivates my Heart,
Attracts my Love, and tender Thoughts inspires;
Nor can my Breast be warm'd by common Fires;
Nor can ARDELIA love but where she first admires.
Like Jupiter's, thy Head was sure in Pain
When this Virago struggl'd in thy Brain;
And strange it is, thou hast not made her wield
A mortal Dart, or penetrating Shield,
Giving that Hand of disproportion'd size
The Pow'r, of which thou hast disarm'd her Eyes:
As if, like Amazons, she must oppose,
And into Lovers force her vanquish'd Foes.
Had to THEANOR thus her Form been shown
To gain her Heart, he had not lost his own;
Nor, by the gentlest Bands of Human Life,
At once secur'd the Mistress and the Wife.
For still CLEONE's Beauties are the same,
And what first lighten'd, still upholds his Flame.
Fain his Compassion wou'd thy Works approve,
Were pitying thee consistent with his Love,
Or with the Taste which Italy has wrought
In his refin'd and daily heighten'd Thought,
Where Poetry, or Painting find no place,
Unless perform'd with a superior Grace.
Cou'd but my Wish some Influence infuse,
Ne'er shou'd the Pencil, or the Sister-Muse
Be try'd by those who easily excuse:
But strictest Censors shou'd of either judge,
Applaud the Artist, and despise the Drudge.
Then never wou'd thy Colours have debas'd
CLEONE's Features, and her Charms defac'd:
Nor had my Pen (more subject to their Laws)
Assay'd to vindicate her Beauty's Cause.
A rigid Fear had kept us both in Awe,
Nor I compos'd, nor thou presum'd to draw;
But in CLEONE viewing with Surprize
That Excellence, to which we ne'er cou'd rise,
By less Attempts we safely might have gain'd
That humble Praise which neither has obtain'd,
Since to thy Shadowings, or my ruder Verse,
It is not giv'n to shew, or to rehearse
What Nature in CLEONE's Face has writ,
A soft Endearment, and a chearful Wit,
That all-subduing, that enliv'ning Air
By which, a sympathizing Joy we share,
For who forbears to smile, when smil'd on by the Fair?

poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Why I Write?

I write poems for myself and I write for the readers
I write for the masses and I write for the leaders
I write to imprint my thoughts in people's mind
I write to make the bad guys helpful and kind
I write to light up our path to Great God
I write for everyone home and abroad
I write to preserve values new and old
I write to make my ink precious like gold
I write for peace and I write for progress
I write to make the world a better place
All major issues I want to address
I write to see smile on God's face

poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Questions

Write me what you're wearing! Is it warm?
Write me how you lie! Do you lie there softly?
Write me how you look! Is it still the same?
Write me what you're missing! Is it my arm?

Write me how you are! Have you been spared?
Write me what they're doing! Do you have enough courage?
Write me what you're doing! Is it good?
Write me, who are you thinking of? Is it me?

Freely, I've given you only my questions.
And I hear the answers, how they fall.
When you're tired, I can't carry it for you.

If you're hungry, I have nothing for you to eat.
And so now I leave the world
No longer there, as if I've forgotten you.

poem by Bertolt Brecht
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Continual Praise

Ooh yeah,oooh yeah yeah yeah..... ooh yeah,yeah
Verse 1:
For all you done and what you gon do
For all your blessings we give praise to you
Mercy,loving,kindness and grace
For directing our steps and guiding our way
Channel:
So with thankful hearts and spirits and all of our hands raised we come to the throne of the father as we give you continual praise.
Chorus:
Continual praise let us all join together continual praise from the past to forever-
We were created like angels to praise him,to raise him and lift him high
So let us all just lift his name high to the sky as we sing shout with our might in continual praise
Verse 2:
The sun,the moon and all of the stars
Display the awesomeness of our god
His marvelous works and awesome display
His mighty acts we witness everyday
Channel:
So with thankful hearts and spirits and all of our hands raised we come to the throne of the father as we give you continual praise.
Chorus:
Continual praise let us all join together continual praise from the past to forever-
We were created like angels to praise him,to raise him and lift him high
So let us all just lift his name high to the sky as we sing shout with our might in continual praise
Continual praise let us all join together continual praise from the past to forever-
We were created like angels to praise him,to raise him and lift him high
So let us all just lift his name high to the sky as we sing shout with our might in continual praise
Brother can you help me sing
Vamp:
Let your praise go on(let your praise),praise go on-let you praise go on,praise go on(repeat till fade)
I love to praise him(praise go on)(repeat 5times)
Let ur praise go on(repeat till fade).....

song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Continual Praise

song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Whatevah

write
till it does not hurt anymore

write
till all the happy moments are consumed.

write
till all the aches are justified

write
till all your revenge is dissipated

write
till all angles are examined

write and keep on writing
till all of you is hidden, till all of you is folded back

write and keep on writing still
because you are your writer and there is no one who knows you well

except yourself, and what they know shall only be
skin deep

because you want it so,
you are the king in the jungle of your uncertainties
the Tarzan hitting his chest before Jane came and ruined it.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Morning Has Broken

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the world
Sweet the rains new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass
Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
Gods recreation of the new day

song performed by by Cat Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

To A Vain Lady

Ah! heedless girl! why thus disclose
What ne'er was meant for other ears:
Why thus destroy thine own repose
And dig the source of future tears?

Oh, thou wilt weep, imprudent maid,
While lurking envious foes will smile,
For all the follies thou hast said
Of those who spoke but to beguile.

Vain girl! thy ling'ring woes are nigh,
If thou believ'st what striplings say:
Oh, from the deep temptation fly,
Nor fall the specious spoiler's prey.

Dost thou repeat, in childish boast,
The words man utters to deceive?
Thy peace, thy hope, thy all is lost,
If thou canst venture to believe.

While now amongst thy female peers
Thou tell'st again the soothing tale,
Canst thou not mark the rising sneers
Duplicity in vain would veil?

These tales in secret silence hush,
Nor make thyself the public gaze:
What modest maid without a blush
Recounts a flattering coxcomb's praise?

Will not the laughing boy despise
Her who relates each fond conceit -
Who, thinking Heaven is in her eyes,
Yet cannot see the slight deceit?

For she who takes a soft delight
These amorous nothings in revealing,
Must credit all we say or write,
While vanity prevents concealing.

Cease, if you prize your beauty's reign!
No jealousy bids me reprove:
One, who is thus from nature vain,
I pity, but I cannot love.

January 15,1807.

poem by Byron
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Survival

Securely, after days
Unnumbered, I behold
Kings mourn that promised praise
Their cheating bars foretold.

Of earth-constructing Wars,
Of Princes passed in chains,
Of deeds out-shining stars,
No word or voice remains.

Yet furthest times receive,
And to fresh praise restore,
Mere breath of flutes at eve,
Mere seaweed on the shore.

A smoke of sacrifice;
A chosen myrtle-wreath;
An harlot's altered eyes;
A rage 'gainst love or death;

Glazed snow beneath the moon --
The surge of storm-bowed trees--
The Caesars perished soon,
And Rome Herself: But these

Endure while Empires fall
And Gods for Gods make room....
Which greater God than all
Imposed the amazing doom?

poem by Rudyard Kipling
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

What I want to write

What I want to write
I could not write.

I could not write
Tiger tiger cat cat
And the difference they behaved.
I could not write
The sky and its fall
On our forehead.

What I want to write
I could not write.

I write how I loved
How flower blosom
How fruit ripe
How stream flow.

I could not know
How I write
And I write
What I want to write
I could not write.

poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The shining. For Tara.

It shines.
It shines from the new-born baby;
shines in the magic of birth.
It shines in first love;
in lasting love.
It shines in laughter,
in tears of sadness,
in tears of joy.
It shines in wisdom,
shines in goodness,
shines as beauty.
It shines in the held breath
of the peace of dawn about to break;
it shines in the stillness
of the hour of sunset.
It shines as life.

There is no limit to its shining
except the denying of it
and even then,
it shines

Since you know it so well,
does it need a name?
A name perhaps, to praise?

Nameless, known to all,
beyond all praise,
it shines.

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Psalm XIX: The Heavens Declare Thy Glory, Lord

The heavens declare thy glory, Lord,
In every star thy wisdom shines;
But when our eyes behold thy word,
We read thy name in fairer lines.

The rolling sun, the changing light,
And night and day, thy power confess;
But the blest volume thou hast writ
Reveals thy justice and thy grace.

Sun, moon, and stars convey thy praise
Round the whole earth, and never stand;
So when thy truth began its race,
It touched and glanced on every land.

Nor shall thy spreading gospel rest
Till through the world thy truth has run
Till Christ has all the nations blest,
That see the light or feel the sun.

Great Sun of righteousness, arise,
Bless the dark world with heavenly light:
Thy gospel makes the simple wise;
Thy laws are pure, thy judgments right.

poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

What They Write About

what they write about
are so poetic, and sometimes i feel
envious, and think all nights to also
write everything poetic like the way
they write about the moon, and stars,
and sun and clouds and hills and
valleys and blooming flowers
about summer,
but honestly speaking, i think every
poetic imagery has only become too
routinary, all metaphors conceived of,
are nothing but simply variations adopted
from one poet to another like an
uncaught plagiarist on the loose,
but somehow, i also like it when i think
that writing is just a hobby, a diversion,
if not a deviation from what
we really want to become.
well, i may be a sour grape for
staying just to be myself,
an imaginary toad in the real
garden untended by its owner.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Regulate Your Flowing

Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a -doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.

Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-do om-a-doom-a-doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.

Real neat.
And not a picky eater.
Toasted whole wheat,
With jam-a or rye-i.

Pickled beets,
Mixed with chili and green peppers.
Sweetens a deliciousness,
You've gotta once try!

Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop- a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a- doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.

Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-do om-a-doom-a-doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.

Regulate your flowing,
By going regular.
Regulate your flowing,
By going regular.
Regulate your flowing,
By going regular.
Regulate your flowing,
And go,
Regular.

Real neat.
And not a picky eater.
Toasted whole wheat,
With jam-a or rye-i.

Pickled beets,
Mixed with chili and green peppers.
Sweetens a deliciousness,
You've gotta once try!

Ah...
Doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Ah ah...
Doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Ahhh...
Doom-a -doom-a-doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.

Regulate your flowing,
By going regular.
Regulate your flowing,
And go,
Regular.

Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-do om-a-doom-a-doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.

Regulate your flowing,
And go,
Regular.

Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-do om-a-doom-a-doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.

Regulate your flowing,
Faster!
Regulate your flowing,
Faster!
Regulate your flowing,
And go,
Regular.

Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-doom-a-doom-a-doom.
Poopoop-a-do om-a-doom-a-doom.
Bah bah-2-poppa.
Regulate your flowing,
And go,
Regular.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Wanted To Write The Most Beautiful Poem

I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one beyond any music I had known-
The one which would reveal the changes
in yellows and greens
spring sunlight whispered to the trees

I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
The one which would tell the stories of all those I have loved and cared for-
I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
As a poem of Kindness-

I wanted to write the most beautiful poem
Of sublime and overpowering distance
Of stars when stars were dreams -

I wanted to write the most beautiful poem-

But I knew many other poems already written
Would always be far more beautiful than mine-

So I tried to write the most beautiful poem I could-

But the light outside
The world and its colors
The beauties we see and hear everyday
Said to me again and again,

'Walk more humbly with your God and do Justice and love Mercy also'.

poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

En.Citatepedia®.ro

Impromptu, to Lady Winchelsea

Related quotes

To Mr. F. Now Earl of W

Brittania's Throne

Staging An Escape

Friendship Between Ephelia And Ardelia

In Vain

To The Painter Of An Ill-drawn Picture of Cleone

Why I Write?

Questions

Continual Praise

Continual Praise

Whatevah

Morning Has Broken

To A Vain Lady

The Survival

What I want to write

The shining. For Tara.

Psalm XIX: The Heavens Declare Thy Glory, Lord

What They Write About

Regulate Your Flowing

I Wanted To Write The Most Beautiful Poem

En.Citatepedia^®.ro