On the Countess of Burlington Cutting Paper
Pallas grew vapourish once, and odd,
She would not do the least right thing,
Either for goddess, or for god,
Nor work, nor play, nor paint, nor sing.
Jove frown'd, and, 'Use,' he cried, 'those eyes
So skilful, and those hands so taper;
Do something exquisite and wise -'
She bow'd, obey'd him, - and cut paper.
This vexing him who gave her birth,
Thought by all heaven a burning shame;
What does she next, but bids, on earth,
Her Burlington do just the same.
Pallas, you give yourself strange airs;
But sure you'll find it hard to spoil
The sense and taste of one that bears
The name of Saville and of Boyle.
Alas! one bad example shown;
How quickly all the sex pursue!
See, madam, see the arts o'erthrown,
Between John Overton and you!
poem by Alexander Pope
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Related quotes
Homer's Hymn To Minerva
I sing the glorious Power with azure eyes,
Athenian Pallas! tameless, chaste, and wise,
Tritogenia, town-preserving Maid,
Revered and mighty; from his awful head
Whom Jove brought forth, in warlike armour dressed,
Golden, all radiant! wonder strange possessed
The everlasting Gods that Shape to see,
Shaking a javelin keen, impetuously
Rush from the crest of Aegis-bearing Jove;
Fearfully Heaven was shaken, and did move
Beneath the might of the Cerulean-eyed;
Earth dreadfully resounded, far and wide;
And, lifted from its depths, the sea swelled high
In purple billows, the tide suddenly
Stood still, and great Hyperion’s son long time
Checked his swift steeds, till, where she stood sublime,
Pallas from her immortal shoulders threw
The arms divine; wise Jove rejoiced to view.
Child of the Aegis-bearer, hail to thee,
Nor thine nor others’ praise shall unremembered be.
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Modern Love XLII: I Am to Follow Her
I am to follow her. There is much grace
In woman when thus bent on martyrdom.
They think that dignity of soul may come,
Perchance, with dignity of body. Base!
But I was taken by that air of cold
And statuesque sedateness, when she said
'I'm going'; lit a taper, bowed her head,
And went, as with the stride of Pallas bold.
Fleshly indifference horrible! The hands
Of Time now signal: O, she's safe from me!
Within those secret walls what do I see
Where first she set the taper down she stands:
Not Pallas: Hebe shamed! Thoughts black as death,
Like a stirred pool in sunshine break. Her wrists
I catch: she faltering, as she half resists,
'You love. . . ? love. . . ? love. . . ?' all on an in-drawn breath.
poem by George Meredith
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Jupiter And Fortune.
Once Jupiter, from out the Skies,
Beheld a thousand Temples rise;
The Goddess Fortune all invok'd,
To Jove an Altar seldom smoak'd:
The God resolv'd to make Inspection,
What had occasion'd this Defection;
And bid the Goddess tell the Arts,
By which she won deluded Hearts.
My Arts! (says she) Great Jove, you know,
That I do ev'ry Thing below:
I make my Vot'ries dine on Plate;
I give the gilded Coach of State;
Bestow the glitt'ring Gems, that deck
The fair Lavinia's lovely Neck;
I make Novella Nature's Boast,
And raise Valeria to a Toast;
'Tis I, who give the Stupid, Taste,
(Or make the Poets lie, at least);
My fav'rite Sons, whene'er they please,
Can Palaces in Desarts raise,
Cut out Canals, make Fountains play,
And make the dreary Waste look gay;
Ev'n Vice seems Virtue by my Smiles;
I gild the Villain's gloomy Wiles,
Nay, almost raise him to a God,
While crowded Levees wait his Nod.
Enough--the Thunderer reply'd;
But say, whom have you satisfy'd?
These boasted Gifts are thine, I own;
But know, Content is mine alone.
poem by Mary Barber
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Hope
All treasures of the earth and opulent seas,
Metals and odorous woods and cunning gold,
Fowls of the air and furry beasts untold,
Vineyards and harvest fields and fruitful trees
Nature gave unto Man; and last her keys
Vouched passage to her secret ways of old
Whence knowledge should be wrung, nay power to mould
Out of the rough, his occult destinies.
But tired of these he craved a wider scope:
Then fair as Pallas from the brain of Jove
From his deep wish there sprang, full-armed, to cope
With all life's ills, even very death in love,
The only thing man never wearies of--
His own creation--visionary Hope.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Heaven And Earth #2
when i look to the heavens and see the beauties of the sky
then i know the reason why.
why i was put on this earth, and why to me
my mother gave birth.
she gave me birth so that i can see
all the beauties that GOD put here for me.
heaven and earth are in unison as one
just like the sky is to the sun.
just like the crops are to the soil
through mans sacrifice and toil.
here on earth the LORD has said
is where you'll come to rest your head.
but in my kingdom of heaven
what you thought was impossibilities
'you now will see' living in immortality.
you will no longer have the human frailities
and emotions such as hate, envy, sadness
bitterness, sickness, desires
they will all go away, but other things will stay
such as love, joy, happiness
and a desire to help others
we have left behind.
in hopes that they could find the meanings
of the words that GOD has spoken
and pull out those inner emotions.
HEAVEN AND EARTH IS HERE AND NOW
IN YOUR HEART- IT WILL BE FOUND.
poem by Louis Rams
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What I Miss About Heaven
Mama always said love is like heaven
Holdin' hands in church and prayin' together
Late night talks and morning walks
But I don't remember all that innocent stuff
What I can't forget is the feel of your touch
I guess I ain't no angel, but you gave me a reason to sing
To have you back in my life again, I would trade all silver rings
So forgive me for the cold hard truth
The only thing about heaven I miss is you
We run out of time and things to say
But I find any old excuse to make you stay
One little thing we did just right
Now it takes all night, to shake you from my memory,
I toss and turn in my empty bed, trying to break free
I guess I ain't no angel, but you gave me a reason to sing
To have you back in my life again, I would trade all silver rings
So forgive me for the cold hard truth
The only thing about heaven I miss is you
The only thing about heaven I miss is the backseat, summer night, hilltop kiss
I ain't ashamed to admit that this is the only thing I miss
The only thing about heaven I miss is the backseat, summer night, hilltop kiss
I ain't ashamed to admit that this is the only thing I miss
I guess I ain't no angel, but you gave me a reason to sing
To have you back in my life again, I would trade all silver rings
So forgive me for the cold hard truth
The only thing about heaven I miss
The only thing about heaven I miss is you
song performed by by Lee Ann Womack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heaven And Earth
when heaven and earth i can no longer see
my GOD will be in front of me.
and when my GOD says it's time to die
i know that he'll be by my side.
and when the sun ceases to shine
i know that i will feel his love divine.
and when this earth no longer exists
i will feel his heavenly bliss.
heaven and earth is just a step away
either we do it right, or we come back to pay.
they say that heaven is here on earth
and mankind takes it for all its worth.
when i look to the heavens and see the beauty
of the sky, then i know the reason why.
why i was put on this earth
and why to me, my mother gave birth.
she gave me birth so that i can see
all the beauties that GOD put here for me.
heaven and earth are in unison as one
just like the sky is to the sun.
just like the crops are to the soil
through mans sacrifice and toil.
here on earth the LORD had said
is where you'll come to rest your head.
but in my kingdom of heaven
what you thought was impossibilities
you now will see living in immortality.
you will no longer have the human frailities
and emotions such as hate, envy, sadness, bitterness
sickness and desires, they will all go away
but other things will stay
such as love, joy and happiness
and a desire to help the ones we leave behind
and in hopes that they could find
the meanings of the words that GOD has spoken
and pull out all these inner emotions.
heaven and earth is here and now
in your heart, it will be found.
poem by Louis Rams
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1133 Heaven On Earth
Where is Heaven is there such a place?
A place where God is real and Angels dwell
Can we find Heaven - while we're here on earth
Or does your life on Earth resemble Hell?
Heaven is all around in Nature shown
The 'Gift of God' to all who are His own.
Heaven is a clearing in the woods
A place were bluebells in profusion grow
A place of solitude qnd quietness
A place where only rabbits and the badgers go.
The Angels gather there but are unseen
Except by those who have departed from this scene.
Heaven is a stretch of sandy coast
The place where Baby Angels love to play
The murmer of the sea the gentle wind
The changing panorama of each day.
And those who have departed from this life
Can live contented there as Man & Wife.
Heaven is a mountain-side retreat
A place with lovely vistas near and far
A pace that's shaped by God's almighty hand
Which urban noise and crime can never mar.
A place for our beloved who've gone before
Where Angels hover close to Heaven's Door.
Heaven's set beside a placid lake
In which are mirrored trees and clouds above
A place of peace - serenity and joy
A place of holiness - a place of love.
Martyrs and Saints sing out to God in Praise
And with the Angels serve Him all their days.
God's gift to us - right from our day of birth
The 'Joys of Heaven' - right where we are on EARTH! ! !
(John Knight - Colchester - December 2009)
poem by John Knight
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Work, Work, And No Play
Do this do that
wear a smile
and not a hat
greet everyone
and when your done
go and greet another one
always ask
'how are you? '
and don't you frown
cuz your not through!
work work
and no play
maybe i will quit one day
smile all the time
and don't you whine
go count the cash
dont skip a dime
put this up
then take this down
and don't you dare
make a frown
you have 8 hours
left to go
dont make a scene
put on a show
you work hard
not hard enough
be late again
and ill get tough
work work
and no play
maybe i will quit someday
alright now the time has come
when you work day is done
see you tomorrow
with a smile
youll be here for a little while
and since you have worked
here so long
ill make sure that nothings wrong
youll take my place
sing my song
bark my orders
when im gone
work work
and no play
but i will be the
boss one day
poem by Vonna mckissick
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Body & Soul
Man placed God’s Christ within the tomb –Mk.15: 42-47
Who’d died in awesome pain –Mk.15: 21-41
His grave a simile to the womb –Mt.12: 39-40
Gave birth to Christ again –Ro.6: 4
He left behind the clothes He wore –Jn.20: 6-7
To rise as Lord and King –Mt.19: 28
Enrobed in Glory’s Light once more –Rev.1: 13-18
His praises now we sing
The complete Christ had left the grave
No bones were found within
Revealing, bodies too He’ll save
That leaves behind their sin
Yet who’ll believe Salvation’s plan?
From death to birth anew!
Fulfilled in Christ, who proved to man
By dining with the few
Earth’s food, the spirit has no need
This truth God’s Lamb has shown
Dining on fish, God’s risen Seed –Lk.24: 42-43
Nourished His flesh and bone
Once Enoch, walked with God the earth
One day he was no more –Gen.5: 24
Quite whole to him who gave him birth
He entered Heaven’s door
With whirlwind sent from God on high –2Ki.2: 11
Came chariot, fire and steed
Bore whole Elijah in the sky
Alive, as God decreed
So offer God your body true –Ro.12: 1-5
Through Jesus, free of shame –1Co.6: 11
Quite reasonable in Christ to do
When baptised in His name…
poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Wood Jackson
Jackson made twenty tapes in a day
To give away
A give away
And he play
The tunes they'd call creative when they're running out of names
Heaven knows he's really torn it now
But the names it hurt poor jackson stopped the haters in his way
Heaven knows he's for it
Sha-a-a-me!
Hey hey
He was never quite unsure but really sane
Wants to play
Jackson stole twenty souls in a day
To take away
A take away
He takes away
And no complaints
Heart's upon his sleeve and his blade
Wood jackson took the beating every day, given out, passed away, another way
Hey hey
Just wants to play
And how he played
The mob they bleed and tremble when they're running after life
Heaven knows he's really torn it now
The words that killed Wood jackson's friends were written on the wall
Heaven knows he's for it
Shame!
Just wants to play
It's a shame
Shame
It's a shame
Wants to play
It's a shame
It's a shame
Just wants to play
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Judgment Of Paris
Where waving Pines the brows of Ida shade,
The swain young Paris half supinely laid,
Saw the loose Flocks thro' shrubs unnumber'd rove
And Piping call'd them to the gladded grove.
'Twas there he met the Message of the skies,
That he the Judge of Beauty deal the prize.
The Message known, one Love with anxious mind,
To make his Mother guard the time assign'd,
Drew forth her proud white Swans, and trac'd the pair
That wheel her Chariot in the purple air:
A golden Bow behind his shoulder bends,
A golden Quiver at his side depends,
Pointing to these he nods, with fearless State,
And bids her safely meet the grand Debate.
Another Love proceeds with anxious care
To make his Iv'ry sleek the shining hair,
Moves the loose Curls and bids the Forehead shew
In full Expansion all its native snow.
A third enclasps the many colour'd Cest
And rul'd by Fancy sets the silver Vest,
When to her Sons with intermingl'd sighs
The Goddess of the rosy lips applies.
'Tis now my darling boys a time to shew
The love you feel, the filial aids you owe:
Yet would we think that any dar'd to strive
For Charms, when Venus and her Loves alive?
Or should the prize of beauty be deni'd,
Has Beauty's Empress ought to boast beside?
And ting'd with Poison, pleasing while it harms,
My Darts I trusted to your infant arms;
If, when your hands have arch'd the golden Bow,
The World's great Ruler bending owns the blow,
Let no contending Form invade my due,
Tall Juno's Mein, nor Pallas Eyes of blew.
But grac'd with Triumph, to the Paphian shore,
Your Venus bears the Palms of Conquest o'er,
And joyful see my hundred Altars there
With costly Gums perfume the wanton air.
While thus the Cupids hear the Cyprian Dame,
The groves resounded where a Goddess came.
The warlike Pallas march'd with mighty stride,
Her Shield forgot, her Helmet laid aside.
Her Hair unbound, in curls and order flow'd,
And Peace, or something like, her Visage shew'd;
So with her eyes serene and hopeful haste,
The long stretch'd Allys of the Wood she trac'd.
But where the Woods a second Entrance found,
With Scepter'd Pomp, and Golden Glory crown'd
The stately Juno stalk'd, to reach the Seat,
And hear the Sentence in the last Debate,
And long, severely long resent the Grove;
In this, what boots it, she's the wife of Jove.
Arm'd with a Grace, at length, secure to win,
The lovely Venus smiling enters in;
All sweet and shining near the Youth she drew,
Her rosy Neck ambrosial odours threw;
The sacred Scents diffus'd among the leaves,
Ran down the Woods and fill'd their hoary Caves;
The Charms, so am'rous all, and each so great,
The conquer'd Judge no longer keeps his Seat;
Oppress'd with Light, he drops his weary'd eyes
And fears he should be thought to doubt the Prize.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Beady
Beady eyes looked out onto the field of vision,
Someone cried, shorter and longer were the shadows;
Locked into a storeroom, other senses quickly returned,
Fitting the behaviour of the past and future.
He was worth eating, worthy of praise as a taste
To the eyes, and the ears will feel hearings of taste.
He swallowed himself, and all the food was hard,
Yet someone cried and fell aghast at the nonsense.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Thoughts give birth to a creative force that is neither elemental nor sidereal. Thoughts create a new heaven, a new firmament, a new source of energy, from which new arts flow. When a man undertakes to create something, he establishes a new heaven, as it were and from it the work that he desires to create flows into him. For such is the immensity of man that he is greater than heaven and earth.
quote by Philipus Aureolus Paracelsus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Or Not To Be
To be or not to be,
To learn or not to learn,
To obey or not to obey,
To teach or not to teach,
To work or not to work,
To cook or not to cook,
To write or not to write,
To play or not to play,
To move or not to move,
To pray or not to pray,
To ride or not to ride,
To build or not to build,
To plant or not to plant,
To draw or not to draw,
To eat or not to eat,
To drink or not to drink,
To paint or not to paint,
To sing or not to sing,
To preach or not to preach,
To think or not to think,
To create or not to create,
To dance or not to dance,
And like the muse of love in the land of peace;
But, it is a matter of, to be or not to be.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Before Sleep
The lateral vibrations caress me,
They leap and caress me,
They work pathetically in my favour,
They seek my financial good.
She of the spear stands present.
The gods of the underworld attend me, O Annubis,
These are they of thy company.
With a pathetic solicitude they attend me;
Undulant,
Their realm is the lateral courses.
Light!
I am up to follow thee, Pallas.
Up and out of their caresses.
You were gone up as a rocket,
Bending your passages from right to left and from left to right
In the flat projection of a spiral.
The gods of drugged sleep attend me,
Wishing me well;
I am up to follow thee, Pallas.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Fifteenth Sunday After Trinity
Sweet nurslings of the vernal skies,
Bathed in soft airs, and fed with dew,
What more than magic in you lies,
To fill the heart's fond view?
In childhood's sports, companions gay,
In sorrow, on Life's downward way,
How soothing! in our last decay
Memorials prompt and true.
Relics ye are of Eden's bowers,
As pure, as fragrant, and as fair,
As when ye crowned the sunshine hours
Of happy wanderers there.
Fall'n all beside--the world of life,
How is it stained with fear and strife!
In Reason's world what storms are rife,
What passions range and glare!
But cheerful and unchanged the while
Your first and perfect form ye show,
The same that won Eve's matron smile
In the world's opening glow.
The stars of heaven a course are taught
Too high above our human thought:
Ye may be found if ye are sought,
And as we gaze, we know.
Ye dwell beside our paths and homes,
Our paths of sin, our homes of sorrow,
And guilty man where'er he roams,
Your innocent mirth may borrow.
The birds of air before us fleet,
They cannot brook our shame to meet -
But we may taste your solace sweet
And come again to-morrow.
Ye fearless in your nests abide -
Nor may we scorn, too proudly wise,
Your silent lessons, undescried
By all but lowly eyes:
For ye could draw th' admiring gaze
Of Him who worlds and hearts surveys:
Your order wild, your fragrant maze,
He taught us how to prize.
Ye felt your Maker's smile that hour,
As when He paused and owned you good;
His blessing on earth's primal bower,
Ye felt it all renewed.
What care ye now, if winter's storm
Sweep ruthless o'er each silken form?
Christ's blessing at your heart is warm,
Ye fear no vexing mood.
Alas! of thousand bosoms kind,
That daily court you and caress,
How few the happy secret find
Of your calm loveliness!
"Live for to-day! to-morrow's light
To-morrow's cares shall bring to sight,
Go sleep like closing flowers at night,
And Heaven thy morn will bless."
poem by John Keble
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter X)
I speak with bitterness of soul,
‘I hate my life; don’t prove me wrong.
O God, why do you oppose me?
Does oppression give pleasure, Lord? ’
‘Why spurn the good work of your hands?
Can’t you perceive like how man sees?
Is your lifetime akin mortals?
You know I’m not a wicked man,
And yet you seek my sins and guilt! ’
‘You fashioned me with your own hands
And then, why destroy me, O God?
From clay, you made me very well
Do you want to turn me to dust? ’
‘Like milk, you poured me, made me cheese!
You clothed my bones with flesh and skin;
You gave me grace and spirit too;
You hide your purpose in your heart! ’
‘You watch me sin but suffer guilt;
If I’m wicked, alas for me!
If righteous, what’s the advantage
To live in shame and afflicted? ’
‘A lion-like, you hunt me down
And show your mighty power, Lord;
Repeatedly, you attack me
And harass me, so often, God.’
‘Why out of womb, you brought me live?
I should have died without notice;
Had I ne’er lived, how much better?
From womb, you could have shown my tomb! ’
‘Are not my days on earth just few?
Leave me ’lone to recoup a bit,
Before I go to ne’er return,
From land of darkness and of gloom-
The land where darkness is but light! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-29-2007
poem by John Celes
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Why Blame...
Why blame the state of things around
For what they are, and how they are?
Each one must take the blame sans sound
For freedom’s misuse, use unfair!
Why blame a group that’s money-mad
For being so, when most are bad?
All hearts have loved money from birth,
And dreamt that it does give all mirth!
Why blame the air and water, soil,
For our ill-health, and lazy toil?
If each one did his duties well,
Our land need not be lust like hell!
Why blame others for faults our own,
And misdemeanour that’s self-grown?
Each rotten fruit can spoil the rest
However good, even the best!
Why blame the leaders for mis-rule,
When voter stays an instant fool?
The empowered must know limits,
And do just things the land befits!
Why blame the creeds and people’s mix
For landing us in queer a fix?
Nothing on earth can stay all pure,
Like diseases defying cure!
Why blame fair God for what we are
And seething problems, we can’t bear?
The power given to a few
Has rained on all as poison-dew!
Why blame and play a ‘blaming-game’,
When all must bow their heads in shame?
The freedom got through blood and sweat
Eludes the common masses, yet!
Why people have not become wise,
And blame others for each one’s vice?
Let patriotism and thought
Remain for land, brethren in heart!
When hearts and minds have gone corrupt,
Selfishness stays, progress disrupts;
When love for fellow-men stays high,
Then, freedom’s sense and truth can’t die!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 15-9-11
poem by John Celes
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The God of Love Speaks to Man…
I gave you hands to grasp and work
With finesse, deftly, and eat food;
I thought you'll fold your hands and pray,
And thank me for the gifts I gave!
But you use hands to hurt and kill,
And do all sinful things your way!
I gave you legs that carry you,
And stand upright and walk my ways;
I thought you'll genuflect and pray,
And thank me for all that I do;
But you tread upon evil paths
And leave my tenets, go astray!
I gave you eyes upon your face
To see the good world I had made;
I thought you'll read the word of mine,
And live your life in accordance.
But you use eyes to see the muck
That spoils your heart and mind and soul!
I gave you ears to hear sweet sounds
Of birds and animals I found;
I thought you'll hear my divine voice
And thank me for the gift of life;
But you hear noise that's deafening,
And songs that satisfy your lust.
I gave you tongue and mouth to speak
Kind words to all and love brethren;
I thought you'll eat the foods you should,
And thank me for the taste of things;
But you speak lies and blaspheme God
And eat substances of abuse!
I gave you mind to think aright,
And wonder how awesome is God!
I thought you'll keep your brain flawless,
And thank me for your reasoning power;
But you take drugs that give you highs
And waste your precious time I gave!
I gave you heart to empathize,
And feel the anguish of others;
I thought you'll have remorse for sins
And ask forgiveness from the Lord;
But your heart harbours evil thoughts
Those wreck your mind, body and soul!
Remember man, I made you out
Of clay but breathed life into it;
And gave a soul and my semblance
To know my love that's infinite;
Love made me make you with great care,
And yearns to have you back wholesome!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 22-10-2012
poem by John Celes
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