Troy Town
HEAVENBORN Helen, Sparta's queen,
(O Troy Town!)
Had two breasts of heavenly sheen,
The sun and moon of the heart's desire:
All Love's lordship lay between.
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Helen knelt at Venus' shrine,
(O Troy Town!)
Saying, “A little gift is mine,
A little gift for a heart's desire.
Hear me speak and make me a sign!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Look, I bring thee a carven cup;
(O Troy Town!)
See it here as I hold it up,—
Shaped it is to the heart's desire,
Fit to fill when the gods would sup.
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“It was moulded like my breast;
(O Troy Town!)
He that sees it may not rest,
Rest at all for his heart's desire.
O give ear to my heart's behest!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“See my breast, how like it is;
(O Troy Town!)
See it bare for the air to kiss!
Is the cup to thy heart's desire?
O for the breast, O make it his!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Yea, for my bosom here I sue;
(O Troy Town!)
Thou must give it where 'tis due,
Give it there to the heart's desire.
Whom do I give my bosom to?
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Each twin breast is an apple sweet.
(O Troy Town!)
Once an apple stirred the beat
Of thy heart with the heart's desire:—
Say, who brought it then to thy feet?
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“They that claimed it then were three:
(O Troy Town!)
For thy sake two hearts did he
Make forlorn of the heart's desire.
Do for him as he did for thee!
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
“Mine are apples grown to the south,
(O Troy Town!)
Grown to taste in the days of drouth,
Taste and waste to the heart's desire:
Mine are apples meet for his mouth.”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Venus looked on Helen's gift,
(O Troy Town!)
Looked and smiled with subtle drift,
Saw the work of her heart's desire:—
“There thou kneel'st for Love to lift!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Venus looked in Helen's face,
(O Troy Town!)
Knew far off an hour and place,
And fire lit from the heart's desire;
Laughed and said, “Thy gift hath grace!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Cupid looked on Helen's breast,
(O Troy Town!)
Saw the heart within its nest,
Saw the flame of the heart's desire,—
Marked his arrow's burning crest.
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Cupid took another dart,
(O Troy Town!)
Fledged it for another heart,
Winged the shaft with the heart's desire,
Drew the string and said, “Depart!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
Paris turned upon his bed,
(O Troy Town!)
Turned upon his bed and said,
Dead at heart with the heart's desire—
“Oh to clasp her golden head!”
(O Troy's down,
Tall Troy's on fire!)
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Related quotes
Helen of Troy - Clerihew
Helen of Troy
In Paris, found her blue-eyed boy.
Short lived was her joy,
Greeks destroyed Troy.
poem by Khadim Hussain
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Epitaph on King Priam of Troy
Priam, the Trojan king
Lies in a great peace.
Lies he there
The city of Troy,
Where no more is joy.
Caused by Paris’s ploy,
Thought the city was a toy.
So brought the coil
And Troy, received it, as a spoil,
As the Greeks took the coil, away
And Troy, in ruins, alas.
poem by Deepta Protik Osman
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There was an old person of Troy,
Whose drink was warm brandy and soy,
Which he took with a spoon,
By the light of the moon,
In sight of the city of Troy.
quote by by Edward Lear
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There was a Young Lady of Troy,
Whom several large flies did annoy;
Some she killed with a thump,
Some she drowned at the pump,
And some she took with her to Troy.
quote by by Edward Lear
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War Can Destroy
When all around me
There is war
Please do not destroy
Me - I am Keeng Royalness Troy
---------
Written By: Royalness Troy Turner,
Keeng Of England In Canada North America
poem by Royalness Troy Turner
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Love's Bower.
On the white bosom, 'tween the breasts
Of Helen Love has made his bower,
As in a sweet and secret tower
Where mid the world's decay he rests —
A bridegroom in his dream's desire
With the imperial bride whose brow
Is great with beauty now,
Whose eyes have the old fire
That in their passion's joy
Burnt to a cinder on the towers of Troy!
All youths and virgins may go there,
And thence their hearts as torches light,
Fragrant and fresh as new-born air
In the old world's serenest might —
May learn from Love and his warm mate
The secret of the tender tune
Of that long honeymoon,
That like the fire of Fate
Still in their passion's joy
Burns to a cinder on the towers of Troy!
poem by Robert Crawford
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The Ships to Troy
1
I saw a ship,
Burning gold
And she is off
To the city of Troy.
2
I saw another ship,
Burning jewels
Off she goes
To the city of Troy.
3
The ship will all
Return soon
And the ship of gold
Was sold at Troy.
4
I saw a boat
Made of steels,
And last she goes
To the city I know.
poem by by unknown author
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No second Troy
How could I reproach her
that she brings destruction to me,
turns my whole life upside down
and aimless hate rather than love
radiates from her.
How was she able
to estrange me from work
and the people in the street
with slander,
that goes over whole continents,
with robbery, lies and curses
that rain down purposelessly.
Where could she find peace
with a spirit that devours
every thing around her
like a fire from hell,
while she thinks that she’s honourable
and her beauty greater
than that of the girls of today,
was enough to drive any man
to madness.
No second Troy would she burn,
no, the whole world would be aflame
if she could reach her hands to it.
[Reference: No second Troy by William Butler Yeats.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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About Troy
1
Troy O Troy
an archeologist
will sift your ashes through his fingers
yet a fire occurred greater than that of the Iliad
for seven strings--
too few strings
one needs a chorus
a sea of laments
and thunder of mountains
rain of stone
--how to lead
people away from the ruins
how to lead
the chorus from poems--
thinks the faultless poet
respectably mute
as a pillar of salt
--The song will escape unharmed
It escaped
with flaming wing
into a pure sky
The moon rises over the ruins
Troy O Troy
The city is silent
The poet struggles with his own shadow
The poet cries like a bird in the void
The moon repeats its landscape
gentle metal in smoldering ash
2
They walked along ravines of former streets
as if on a red sea of cinders
and wind lifted the red dust
faithfully painted the sunset of the city
They walked along ravines of former streets
they breathed on the frozen dawn in vain
they said: long years will pass
before the first house stands here
they walked along ravines of former streets
they thought they would find some traces
a cripple plays
on a harmonica
about the braids of a willow
about a girl
the poet is silent
rain falls
poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Cassandra
I
REND, rend thine hair, Cassandra: he will go.
Yea, rend thy garments, wring thine hands, and cry
From Troy still towered to the unreddened sky.
See, all but she that bore thee mock thy woe:—
He most whom that fair woman arms, with show
Of wrath on her bent brows; for in this place
This hour thou bad'st all men in Helen's face
The ravished ravishing prize of Death to know.
What eyes, what ears hath sweet Andromache,
Save for her Hector's form and step; as tear
On tear make salt the warm last kiss he gave?
He goes. Cassandra's words beat heavily
Like crows above his crest, and at his ear
Ring hollow in the shield that shall not save.
II
“O HECTOR, gone, gone, gone! O Hector, thee
Two chariots wait, in Troy long bless'd and curs'd;
And Grecian spear and Phrygian sand athirst
Crave from thy veins the blood of victory.
Lo! long upon our hearth the brand had we,
Lit for the roof-tree's ruin: and to-day
The ground-stone quits the wall,—the wind hath way,—
And higher and higher the wings of fire are free.
“O Paris, Paris! O thou burning brand,
Thou beacon of the sea whence Venus rose,
Lighting thy race to shipwreck! Even that hand
Wherewith she took thine apple let her close
Within thy curls at last, and while Troy glows
Lift thee her trophy to the sea and land.”
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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My Stories Of You (chapter eleven)
The whales are fishing our hearts, from the other side of the world
proof that the giants were missing something important
as we all do.
It's almost like the battle of Troy,
heroes killing one another on the Plains of Love,
for the chance that maybe
maybe
you love them too.
And you are white and freckled, as the creatures on the moon,
that dance with the sun in his great eclipses.
You're a miracle of a girl,
beyond the beauty of Cleopatra or Helen of the Troy.
Even the great Babylon lost, in it's bet to reach you, so
how can you expect me
to remain untouched
by this impossible love of yours.
Grilling my heart in hell, at the cost of your love,
I break all the bottles,
and let the sins come out once again.
Mouth full of love, I take all I can get
before you'll refuse my kisses forever.
This land of brave words,
and eleventh part of a love,
is not even close to a masterpiece,
but it is the way I love you.
INSANELY
poem by Serban Raducu Bogdan
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Fall of Troy
Learnt from Chapman's Homer*
A story full of grace and glamour
Killings of Royals, warriors and multitude
Fall of Troy is
A melodrama of ancient attitude
Sans Merci, sans certitude
War that was waged in heaven
Amongst deities of love wedding and wisdom**
To be crowned as fairest of heavenly kingdom,
Poor Prince from Trojan race
Chose to settle that celestial FACE
Ah! This sin of Paris was un-forgiven
***Brought thousands ships towards Trojan haven.
The wall of Troy
Besieged by savage and sages
For term of ten years ages
Prince Hector the decent, daredevil
Embraced Achilles` wrath and kissed the peril.
Days and nights, round the clock
Trojans, Achaeans clashed like a giant rocks
Hector, Aeneas, Paris, Agenor and Sarpedon****
Achilles, Odysseus, Ajax, Patroclus and Agamemnon*****
For worthless love and fairy******
Troy lost her grace and glory
poem by Gulsher john
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Troy
I’ve been counting down the days to
see the shoeing of my beautiful horse
bandit
he has bad feet because
he was run hard in barrel racing
and put away wet
by the people who owned him before I did
I was taking my last ride on him
for the week
or that’s what I thought
at 3pm troy drove up
I told him all the angles he needed to shoe
my baby
I let him be and do his thing
I came back a hour latter see how he was doing
and to offer some water
cause of
the kind hearted person I am
he said I may have to stay off bandit for a while
I didn’t think that meant
A WHOLE YEAR
that man messed bandit’s feet up so bad that now
I couldn’t ride him for a year
it wasn’t fair to bandit he didn’t do anything
to deserve a whole year of pain
It wasn’t fair to me either cause
that is one of the strongest way to build your confidence up
and bond with your horse
I love riding horses
I have 11 other horses
I have to ride on a normal day
but bandit is my baby
and my best friend
and when you mess with my friends
you’ve crossed the line
but when you’ve messed with my horse
if I could I’ll screw over your life
cause when you do that you’ve gone way to far
y’all
my horse is my best friend
my companion
my bond for life
my everything
why my horse troy
why bandit
why troy
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Penelope To Ulysses.
Return my dearest Lord, at length return,
Let me no longer your sad absence mourn,
Ilium in Dust, does no more Work afford,
No more Employment for your Wit or Sword.
Why did not the fore-seeing Gods destroy,
Helin the Fire-brand both of Greece and Troy,
E're yet the Fatal Youth her Face had seen,
E're lov'd and born away the wanton Queen?
Then had been stopt the mighty Floud of Woe,
Which now both Greece and Phrygia over-flow:
Then I, these many Teares, should not have shed,
Nor thou, the source of them, to War been led:
I should not then have trembled at the Fame
Of Hectors warlike and victorious Name.
Why did I wish the Noble Hector Slain?
Why Ilium ruin'd? Rise, O rise again!
Again great City flourish from thine Urne:
For though thou'rt burn'd, my Lord does not return.
Sometimes I think, (but O most Cruel Thought,)
That, for thy Absence, th' art thy self in fault:
That thou art captiv'd by some captive Dame,
Who, when thou fired'st Troy, did thee inflame
And now with her thou lead'st thy am'rous Life,
Forgetful, and despising of thy Wife.
poem by Anne Killigrew
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Prologue To The Argive Women
(Odysseus before the House of Paris.)
OD. About this wicked house ten years
The strife 'twixt Troy and Greece has surged
Since rifling Paris, thief and traitor,
Drew all men to the hue and cry
Menelaus made after him ;
And me, Laertes' son, my lands
And wife and child forsook, he drew
Into the weary insatiable years
Of slaughter, man to man, and Doom
Long-gathered, palsying heart and heart,
And Valour pent in little room—
Ten years abrim, but in this tenth,
Now at the last, within this hour,
To drown the city and the sin
In one great well of blood, hence flooding
Where Paris keeps her his delight,
Soon to prove bane of Troy—and his.
His, for her heart is changed ; she now
Longs for her husband, for her child,
For Lacedaemon, where she was born
And wooed, and learned her shameful lore,
The which now loathing, him her teacher,
Him her sleek thief she scorns, being all
Virgin for him who loved her first,
Nor ever swerved through years denied ;
And he, at last in sight
Of his reward, kneels for the crown,
He for the crown, a crowned king,
Of his high heart and purpose.
Yet
Not he alone, nor Greece alone
Made war in this high quarrel. Nay,
The gods themselves flung into it
Their pomp and panoply of storm,
Terrors of sky and sea, great winds,
Thunder and blown fire, and flood tides
And irresistible surge of the main,
Some to uphold the Dardan house,
And some the wile of Kypris even
Whose sweet poison made Helen sinner ;
And some, as raving Ares, thus
Fulfill'd their natures, to whom men
Are as a tilth to weed, with spear
In visible hand, and battle shout
In terrible mouth ; and met in shock
Other celestial forms, and them
Highest of all and most to us—
Nearer to us for our more need—
Who cried upon the sin : faith broke,
Troth-plight made mockery, oath in vain,
Shameful things shameless done—and them
I serve, and with them plot the end
Of Troy and of the war.
So here
Enwombed in wood, we wait the yeaning
Of that great Horse, the which by wit
Athene-given Epeios made
And I conceived, hid up in arms,
The greatest of us and the best
Hidden here within the walls,
Within the heart of obdurate Troy,
Ready to issue forth,
Seize gates and open, that the tide
Even now girding at the walls
Surge in and cleanse the iniquity
Which to high Heaven has bared so long
A braggart blasphemous head.
But first
There is a deed for her to do,
Who by one wrong inuring wrong
Must now requite it, she alone
Before she can anoint the knees
Of her offended with her tears,
Before he dare to lift her up
To his fair bed and board ; for Zeus
Who set our world, set it in law
Which not himself can break. Ye men
Who live by labour, what ye sow
That ye shall eat, and what ye eat
That ye shall win again by sowing.
Therefore let Helen sow in tears
And reap her joy, and eat with rue
That which she shameful sowed. Thus she
I serve, the gray-eyed Goddess, bids,
And thus her messenger I await
Helen within the wicked house
In this last throw of Troy with Doom.
(He hides himself. The curtains part and
disclose the women's house in the House of
Paris. The play begins.)
poem by Maurice Hewlett
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No Second Troy
Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Pomona
I am the ancient apple-queen,
As once I was so am I now.
For evermore a hope unseen,
Betwixt the blossom and the bough.
Ah, where's the river's hidden Gold!
And where the windy grave of Troy?
Yet come I as I came of old,
From out the heart of Summer's joy.
poem by William Morris
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Helen of Greece - Clerihew
Helen of Greece
Felt like a trophy on a mantle piece
With lover Paris, set sail
For Troy, her land of fairytale.
poem by Khadim Hussain
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Together we knew that we could have success.
quote by Troy Vincent
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Win it, or it's start all over around here.
quote by Troy Vincent
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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