The Return to Nature.
(I) PROMETHEUS 1-
IT was the south : mid-everything,
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Mid-land, mid-summer, noon ;
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And deep within a limpid spring
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The mirrored sun of June.
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Splendour in freshness ! Ah, who stole
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This sun, this fire, from heaven?
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He holds it shining in his soul,
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Prometheus the forgiven.
(II) THETIS2-
In her bright title poets dare
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What the wild eye of fancy sees --
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Similitude -- the clear, the fair
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Light mystery of images.
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Round the blue sea I love the best
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The argent foam played, slender, fleet ;
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I saw -- past Wordsworth and the rest --
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Her natural, Greek, and silver feet.
poem by Alice Meynell
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Related quotes
Prometheus
Prometheus stole from Heaven the sacred fire
And swept to earth with it o'er land and sea.
He lit the vestal flames of poesy,
Content, for this, to brave celestial ire.
Wroth were the gods, and with eternal hate
Pursued the fearless one who ravished Heaven
That earth might hold in fee the perfect leaven
To lift men's souls above their low estate.
But judge you now, when poets wield the pen,
Think you not well the wrong has been repaired?
'Twas all in vain that ill Prometheus fared:
The fire has been returned to Heaven again!
We have no singers like the ones whose note
Gave challenge to the noblest warbler's song.
We have no voice so mellow, sweet, and strong
As that which broke from Shelley's golden throat.
The measure of our songs is our desires:
We tinkle where old poets used to storm.
We lack their substance tho' we keep their form:
We strum our banjo-strings and call them lyres.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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A Gift From Prometheus To Mankind
In Greek Mythology there are many legends,
written about the cruelty, vindictiveness of the gods.
Zeus and the other gods in their petty jealousy,
rivalry often punished, sacrificed men like pawns.
Before the rule of Olympian Gods other Gods ruled.
These were the powerful Titans, the mighty elder gods.
Prometheus was the noblest of the sons of Uranus and Gaia.
Titans all three! Prometheus an arch-rebel and friend to man!
Prometheus belonged to the powerful race of Titans!
The powerful Titans, were cousins to the Olympian Gods,
whose constant hostility to man, Prometheus opposed!
Prometheus gave the wondrous gift of fire to man!
Hearing of this, in a rage Zeus, ordered Prometheus,
seized punished imprisoned; bound by steel chains!
Prometheus was bound to a rock!
On a mountain peak, in the Caucasus,
mountains at the edge of a stream!
Near an Ocean in a place where it snows perpetually!
Where the wind ever howls ceaselessly,
because he had given a gift, mighty fire to mortal man!
Prometheus was sentenced to spend eternity!
Suffering miserably chained to a rocky crag,
with two vultures hovering, near tormenting him!
These two vultures cruelly feasted upon man’s!
Titan friend Prometheus! Tearing at,
his meal exposed belly; eating his living liver!
The ancient Greeks had another version of this,
cruel torture, in which an eagle, the offspring of;
Echidan and Typhon, eats his flesh encased liver!
The great terror of this raw tragedy, is that immediately
after, the eagle eats, consumes Prometheus’
liver; his liver would continually renew itself overnight!
Zeus would always cruelty vindictively!
Send this eagle every day!
To gnaw at, poor prisoner Prometheus’
liver, which is eaten in agony!
But would grow whole again!
Every night because Prometheus!
Being a Titan was immortal!
This story is amazing but merely a myth!
A true story about a real
all powerful God a real immortal,
is a miracle, proving our
Creator’s, love for his humanity!
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sonnet XIV: If He From Heav'n
If he from Heav'n that filch'd that living fire
Condemn'd by Jove to endless torment be,
I greatly marvel how you still go free
That far beyond Prometheus did aspire.
The fire he stole, although of heav'nly kind,
Which from above he craftily did take,
Of lifeless clods us living men to make,
He did bestow in temper of the mind;
But you broke into Heav'n's immortal store,
Where Virtue, Honor, Wit, and Beauty lay,
Which taking thence you have escap'd away,
Yet stand as free as e'er you did before;
Yet old Prometheus punish'd for his rape.
Thus poor thieves suffer when the greater 'scape.
poem by Michael Drayton
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If Not For June
If not for June,
My memories of Winter in December...
With a wish to witness,
The freshness of Spring March would bring...
Would not still remain so vivid.
As if only yesterday visited.
If not for June.
If not for June,
My eyesight would not be teased...
By the freedom felt in Summer,
With hopes that linger of those things I could do,
Under clear skies showing bright Sun.
And seeing the fun shared by nearly everyone,
If not for June.
And if not for June I would not be able to reminisce,
From so many experiences I could pick.
June seems to be the month I can do this.
With a thankfulness I am still in the midst,
Of a year that appears to have just begun.
With so much left to offer before it is done.
And for me this happens only when June comes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bask Your Soul
Bask your soul
with the fire
which Prometheus
brought for the mankind.....
Your soul is tattered,
worn out and filthy.
Can't you smell it?
No, I won't blame you,
it's your cruel lot,
taking you by your
hand to the darkest
region of hell...
The Blue light is
around you, but
you are not scorched,
because, once one is taken
by hell, his spiritual
sense becomes numb!
Yet, if you want to
comeback, and walk
on the same track,
we are awaiting
in the turning of
the way to Heaven.
Amen!
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Dipawali, The Fest Of Light.
Kindle light in every dark-corner,
ignite the eternal fire which Prometheus
stole from heaven for all of us.
Burn the evil by that perpetual fire.
Since time immemorial there are,
fire, water earth, the sky and air.
Nothing could destroy those power,
in midst of all calamities, and war.
Dipawali, or the fest of light,
was to welcome Sri Ram, the savior,
in Ayodhya, after His long fight,
with Ravana, as He became the winner.
Our mythological story says, so,
Light is to dispel, to welcome truth,
as the stories tell, we that know.
We just follow the religious root.
The bereaved hearts, the shadowed minds,
will be flashed with the lamps,
keeping dark sides behind.
Light will here to night tramp.
poem by Nilakshi Das
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I Stole Your Love
I remember the day that we met
I needed someone, you needed someone too, yeah
Spend time takin all you could get
Givin yourself was one thing you never could do
You played with my heart, played with my head
I got to laugh when I think of the things you said
cause I stole your love, stole your love
Aint never gonna let you go
I, oh yeah, stole your love, I stole your love
Stole your love, I stole your love
You never stop runnin around
You pick me up, then you could still put me down
You were the girl that nobody could own
Stay for a while, then you would leave me alone
Im somethin different, aint like the rest
How does it feel to find out youre failin your test
cause I stole your love, stole your love
Aint never gonna let you go
I, i, stole your love, I stole your love
Stole your love, I stole your love
Guitar
Listen, I stole your love, stole your love
Aint never gonna let you go
I, i, stole your love, I stole your love
Stole your love, I stole your love
I stole your love, stole your love
I stole your love, stole your love
I stole your love, oh
I, oh yeah, stole your love, I stole your love
Stole your love, I stole your love
I, oh yeah, stole your love, oh yeah, stole your love, alright
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Stole Your Love
(m&l - stailey)
Alright
I remember the day that we met
I needed someone you needed someone too
Spent time taking all you could get
Even yourself was one thing you never could do
You played with my heart
You played with my head
Ive got to laugh when I think all things you said
Cause I stole your love
Stole your love
Aint never going to let you go
I stole your love
Stole your love
You never stop running around
You pick me up and say you want some of me
Down
You were the girl that nobody could own
You stay for a while and then you would leave me alone
But Im something different - aint like the rest
How does it feel to find out your failing your test
Cause I stole your love
Stole your love
Aint never going to let you go
I stole your love
Stole your love
Guitar!
Listen!
Cause I stole your love
Stole your love
Aint never going to let you go
I stole your love
Stole your love
I stole your love
Stole your love
Stole your love
Come on
I stole your love
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Day Gone By
The clouds floating,
Like a lazy summer day.
The silver reflections,
Glitter and light my eyes.
The blue clear and bright,
The colour rich with promise.
The clouds gentle now,
As the summer storm has passed.
The day done.
The hours and minutes gone.
I feel the green of the leaves,
In this balmy summer's eve.
(Bolton, UK. Tuesday 26 June 2007)
poem by Champaben Mistry
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Memory Pictures
I
A wide-spring meadow in a rosy dawn
Bedropt with virgin buds; an orient sky
Fleeced with a dappled cloud but half withdrawn;
A mad wind blowing by,
O'er slopes of rippling grass and glens apart;
A brackened path to a wild-woodland place
A limpid pool with a fair, laughing face
Mirrored within its heart.
II
An ancient garden brimmed with summer sun
Upon a still and slumberous afternoon;
Old walks and pleasances with shadows spun
Where honeyed odors swoon;
A velvet turf with blossoms garlanded;
A hedge of Mary-lilies white and tall;
And, shining out against a lichened wall,
A stately-golden head.
III
An autumn hilltop in the sunset hue,
Pine boughs uptossed against the crystal west,
And, girdled with the twilight dim and blue,
A valley peace-possessed;
A high-sprung heaven stained with colors rare,
A sheen of moonrise on the sea afar,
And, bright and soft as any glimmering star,
Eyes holy as a prayer.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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Fire Of Spring
Spring: What do you see like this?
Fire: To you
Spring: Please I entreat you
Fire: What to do? I can’t bear darkness
Spring: Naughty, not to utter thus. Come here.
Fire: May I set fire to wax candle?
Spring: Put on spectacles, other wise
No surplus will remain.
Fire: Oh! You are very miserly.
Spring: OK Think- you are lying under a tree in hard sun light-in this moment what will be your temperament?
Fire: You are upon a hand; our child is upon another, crystal blue sky in front.
Spring: I see! Have you ever seen that fair of children darken the blue sky?
Fire: Yes, I saw that in your eye, on your lip, inside the rib bone.
Spring: OK
Fire: Oh! No, do not talk; close your eyes, why so sweat scent in your hair?
Spring: At your chest too...
Fire: Surging fire on my body
Always, couldn’t you see that?
Spring: How could I see? The thunder-the flood reside on my body too.
Fire: You are carrying so much thunder and flood why did not you tell me before?
Spring: How could I say? Did I know that so much?
Fire at your heart!
Fire: Leave it. Now you have come to know.
Spring: Hey-I entreat you, do not touch my hub. Earth quake sleeps there.
Fire: Oh! Really you are very beautiful and natural, A very exciting eminent on your thigh looks.
Spring: Entreat, I entreat you, do not touch there. Earth Quake sleeps there also.
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Nightmares in the Dream Realm
I'm doing well with tales to tell
From not so distant lands
I've a soul to sell but don’t fancy hell
So I'll keep it in my hands.
Maybe I'll share a little but
Never with the devil that stirs
Nightmares in the dream realm,
Yet to keep you warm I would
Run the fires of hell, as Prometheus
Stealing fire from the Gods I would
Run, carrying the flames of the sun
To keep you warm from the cold.
But would you allow it or would
You strive into fire by your own accord?
poem by David Lacey
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Winter And Summer
Come Winter, merry Winter,
Rejoice while yet you may,
For nearer, ever nearer,
Fair Summer draws each day,
And soon the tiny snowdrops
Shall waken from their sleep,
And, mossy banks from under,
The modest violets peep.
The apple trees shall scatter
Their buds at Summer's feet,
And with their fragrant odors
Make every zephyr sweet;
While Nature, of wild roses,
And lilies frail and white,
Shall make a wreath for Summer,
And crown her with delight.
Forth from the smiling heavens
Shall fall the gentle rain,
The earth shall feel her presence
And welcome her with grain;
The birds shall come and twitter,
And build amid the boughs,
So Winter, merry Winter,
While yet you may, carouse.
We love you, merry Winter,
You and the joys you bring,
And loud and long your praises
Throughout the world we sing;
But Summer, gentle Summer,
Comes shyly through the glade,
And draws all hearts to love her,
So fair is she arrayed.
We love the merry sleighing,
The swinging snowshoe tramp,
While in the clear, cold heavens
The calm moon holds her lamp,
We love the breathless coasting.
The skating and the games
Played amid shouts of laughter,
Around the hearth-fire flames.
But Summer, winsome Summer,
Holds greater stores of bliss,
When all the land awakens,
And blossoms at her kiss;
We soon shall feel her presence,
And breathe her perfumed breath,
Then, Winter, dear old Winter,
We will not mourn your death.
poem by Arthur Weir
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A December Day
Blue, blue is the sea to-day,
Warmly the light
Sleeps on St. Andrews Bay --
Blue, fringed with white.
That's no December sky!
Surely 'tis June
Holds now her state on high,
Queen of the noon.
Only the tree-tops bare
Crowning the hill,
Clear-cut in perfect air,
Warn us that still
Winter, the aged chief,
Mighty in power,
Exiles the tender leaf,
Exiles the flower.
Is there a heart to-day,
A heart that grieves
For flowers that fade away,
For fallen leaves?
Oh, not in leaves or flowers
Endures the charm
That clothes those naked towers
With love-light warm.
O dear St. Andrews Bay,
Winter or Spring
Gives not nor takes away
Memories that cling
All round thy girdling reefs,
That walk thy shore,
Memories of joys and griefs
Ours evermore.
poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Silver Birds
Silver birds
getting ready to fly
red, white and blue
it's our pride in the sky
Silver birds
above the clouds
making waves
making us proud
Silver birds
shining bright
into the evening
into the night
Silver birds
amongst the rest
flying strong
to be the best
Silver birds
coming round the bend
getting ready to land
out of their descend
Silver birds
representing the states
with the colors of freedom
at all their gates.
Charlie Vergara
11.21.2007
2576
poem by White Tiger
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Itylus
Swallow, my sister, O sister swallow,
How can thine heart be full of the spring?
A thousand summers are over and dead.
What hast thou found in the spring to follow?
What hast thou found in thine heart to sing?
What wilt thou do when the summer is shed?
O swallow, sister, O fair swift swallow,
Why wilt thou fly after spring to the south,
The soft south whither thine heart is set?
Shall not the grief of the old time follow?
Shall not the song thereof cleave to thy mouth?
Hast thou forgotten ere I forget?
Sister, my sister, O fleet sweet swallow,
Thy way is long to the sun and the south;
But I, fulfilled of my heart's desire,
Shedding my song upon height, upon hollow,
From tawny body and sweet small mouth
Feed the heart of the night with fire.
I the nightingale all spring through,
O swallow, sister, O changing swallow,
All spring through till the spring be done,
Clothed with the light of the night on the dew,
Sing, while the hours and the wild birds follow,
Take flight and follow and find the sun.
Sister, my sister, O soft light swallow,
Though all things feast in the spring's guest-chamber,
How hast thou heart to be glad thereof yet?
For where thou fliest I shall not follow,
Till life forget and death remember,
Till thou remember and I forget.
Swallow, my sister, O singing swallow,
I know not how thou hast heart to sing.
Hast thou the heart? is it all past over?
Thy lord the summer is good to follow,
And fair the feet of thy lover the spring:
But what wilt thou say to the spring thy lover?
O swallow, sister, O fleeting swallow,
My heart in me is a molten ember
And over my head the waves have met.
But thou wouldst tarry or I would follow
Could I forget or thou remember,
Couldst thou remember and I forget.
O sweet stray sister, O shifting swallow,
The heart's division divideth us.
Thy heart is light as a leaf of a tree;
But mine goes forth among sea-gulfs hollow
To the place of the slaying of Itylus,
The feast of Daulis, the Thracian sea.
O swallow, sister, O rapid swallow,
I pray thee sing not a little space.
Are not the roofs and the lintels wet?
The woven web that was plain to follow,
The small slain body, the flower-like face,
Can I remember if thou forget?
O sister, sister, thy first-begotten!
The hands that cling and the feet that follow,
The voice of the child's blood crying yet
Who hath remembered me? who hath forgotten?
Thou hast forgotten, O summer swallow,
But the world shall end when I forget.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Secret Love
I hid my love when young till I
Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly;
I hid my love to my despite
Till I could not bear to look at light:
I dare not gaze upon her face
But left her memory in each place;
Where eer I saw a wild flower lie
I kissed and bade my love good bye.
I met her in the greenest dells
Where dewdrops pearl the wood blue bells
The lost breeze kissed her bright blue eye,
The bee kissed and went singing by,
A sunbeam found a passage there,
A gold chain round her neck so fair;
As secret as the wild bee's song
She lay there all the summer long.
I hid my love in field and town
Till een the breeze would knock me down,
The bees seemed singing ballads oer,
The fly's bass turned a lion's roar;
And even silence found a tongue,
To haunt me all the summer long;
The riddle nature could not prove
Was nothing else but secret love.
poem by John Clare
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Chorus
from Atalanta in Calydon
When the hounds of spring are on winter's traces,
The mother of months in meadow or plain
Fills the shadows and windy places
With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain;
And the brown bright nigthingale amorous
Is half assuaged for Itylus,
For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces,
The tongueless vigil, and all the pain.
Come with bows bent and emptying of quivers,
Maiden most perfect, lady of light,
With a noise of winds and many rivers,
With a clamour of waters, and with might;
Bind on thy sandals, O thou most fleet,
Over the splendour and speed of thy feet;
For the faint east quickens, the wan west shivers,
Round the feet of the day and the feet of the night.
Where shall we find her, how shall we sing to her,
Fold our hands round her knees, and cling?
O that man's heart were as fire and could spring to her,
Fire, or the strength of the streams that spring!
For the stars and the winds are unto her
As raiment, as songs of the harp-player;
For the risen stars and the fallen cling to her,
And the southwest-wind and the west-wind sing.
For winter's rains and ruins are over,
And all the season of snows and sins;
The days dividing lover and lover,
The light that loses, the night that wins;
And time remembered is grief forgotten,
And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,
And in green underwood and cover
Blossom by blossom the spring begins.
The full streams feed on flower of rushes,
Ripe grasses trammel a travelling foot,
The faint fresh flame of the young year flushes
From leaf to flower and flower to fruit;
And fruit and leaf are as gold and fire,
And the oat is heard above the lyre,
And the hoofed heel of a satyr crushes
The chestnut-husk at the chestnut-root.
And Pan by noon and Bacchus by night,
Fleeter of foot than the fleet-foot kid,
Follows with dancing and fills with delight
The Maenad and the Bassarid;
And soft as lips that laugh and hide
The laughing leaves of the trees divide,
And screen from seeing and leave in sight
The god pursuing, the maiden hid.
The ivy falls with the Bacchanal's hair
Over her eyebrows hiding her eyes;
The wild vine slipping down leaves bare
Her bright breast shortening with sighs;
The wild vine slips with the weight of its leaves,
But the berried ivy catches and cleaves
To the limbs that glitter, the feet that scare
The wolf that follows, the fawn that flies.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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River And Sea
Under the light of the silver moon
We two sat, when our hearts were young;
The night was warm with the breath of June,
And loud from the meadow the cricket sung,
And darker and deeper, oh, love, than the sea,
Were your dear eyes, as they beamed to me.
The moon hung clear, and the night was still:
The waters reflected the glittering skies;
The nightingale sang on the distant hill;
But sweeter than all was the light in your eyes -
Your dear, dark eyes, your eyes like the sea -
And up from the depths shone love for me.
My heart, like a river, was mad and wild -
And a river is not deep, like the sea;
But I said yout love was the love of a child,
Compared with the love that was felt by me;
A river leaps noisily, kissing the land,
But the sea is fathomless, deep and grand.
I vowed to love you, for ever and ever!
I called you cold, on that night in June,
But my fierce love, like a reckless river,
Dashed on, and away, and was spent too soon;
While yours - ah, yours was deep like the sea;
I cheated you, love, but you died for me!
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Robe of Grass
HERE lies the woven garb he wore
Of grass he gathered by the shore
Whereon the phantom waves still fret and foam
And sigh along the visionary sand.
‘Where is he now?’ you cry; ‘What desolate land
Gleams round him in dull mockery of home?’
You knew him by the robe he cast
About him, grey and worn at last.
‘It fades,’ you murmur, ‘changes, lives and dies.
Why has he vanished? Whither is he fled?
And is there any light among the dead?
Can any dream come singing where he lies?’
Ah peace! lift up your clouded eyes,
Nor where this curious relic lies
Grope in the blown dust for the print of feet.
Dim, tottering, ghastly sounds are these; but he
Laughs now as ever, still aloof and free,
Eager and wild and passionate and fleet.
Because he has dropped the part he played,
Shall love be baffled and dismayed?
Let the frail earth and all its visions melt,
And let the heart that loves, the eye that sees,
Seek him amid immortal mysteries,
For lo, he dwells where he has ever dwelt.
poem by John Le Gay Brereton
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