Horace to Leuconoë
I pray you not, Leuconoë, to pore
With unpermitted eyes on what may be
Appointed by the gods for you and me,
Nor on Chaldean figures any more.
’T were infinitely better to implore
The present only:—whether Jove decree
More winters yet to come, or whether he
Make even this, whose hard, wave-eaten shore
Shatters the Tuscan seas to-day, the last—
Be wise withal, and rack your wine, nor fill
Your bosom with large hopes; for while I sing,
The envious close of time is narrowing;—
So seize the day, or ever it be past,
And let the morrow come for what it will.
poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Echoes from the Sabine Farm
TO THE FOUNTAIN OF BANDUSIA
O FOUNTAIN of Bandusia!
Whence crystal waters flow,
With garlands gay and wine I ’ll pay
The sacrifice I owe;
A sportive kid with budding horns
I have, whose crimson blood
Anon shall dye and sanctify
Thy cool and babbling flood.
O fountain of Bandusia!
The Dog-star’s hateful spell
No evil brings into the springs
That from thy bosom well;
Here oxen, wearied by the plow,
The roving cattle here
Hasten in quest of certain rest,
And quaff thy gracious cheer.
O fountain of Bandusia!
Ennobled shalt thou be,
For I shall sing the joys that spring
Beneath yon ilex-tree.
Yes, fountain of Bandusia,
Posterity shall know
The cooling brooks that from thy nooks
Singing and dancing go.
TO LEUCONÖE
I
WHAT end the gods may have ordained for me,
And what for thee,
Seek not to learn, Leuconöe,—we may not know.
Chaldean tables cannot bring us rest.
’T is for the best
To bear in patience what may come, or weal or woe.
If for more winters our poor lot is cast,
Or this the last,
Which on the crumbling rocks has dashed Etruscan seas,
Strain clear the wine; this life is short, at best.
Take hope with zest,
And, trusting not To-morrow, snatch To-day for ease!
TO LEUCONÖE
II
SEEK not, Leuconöe, to know how long you ’re going to live yet,
What boons the gods will yet withhold, or what they ’re going to give yet;
For Jupiter will have his way, despite how much we worry:—
Some will hang on for many a day, and some die in a hurry.
The wisest thing for you to do is to embark this diem
Upon a merry escapade with some such bard as I am.
And while we sport I ’ll reel you off such odes as shall surprise ye;
To-morrow, when the headache comes,—well, then I ’ll satirize ye!
poem by Eugene Field
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Horatian Lyrics Odes I, 11.
What end the gods may have ordained for me,
And what for thee,
Seek not to learn, Leuconoe; we may not know;
Chaldean tables cannot bring us rest--
'Tis for the best
To bear in patience what may come, or weal or woe.
If for more winters our poor lot is cast,
Or this the last,
Which on the crumbling rocks has dashed Etruscan seas;
Strain clear the wine--this life is short, at best;
Take hope with zest,
And, trusting not To-Morrow, snatch To-Day for ease!
poem by Eugene Field
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BkI:XI Carpe Diem
Leuconoë, don’t ask, we never know, what fate the gods grant us,
whether your fate or mine, don’t waste your time on Babylonian,
futile, calculations. How much better to suffer what happens,
whether Jupiter gives us more winters or this is the last one,
one debilitating the Tyrrhenian Sea on opposing cliffs.
Be wise, and mix the wine, since time is short: limit that far-reaching hope.
The envious moment is flying now, now, while we’re speaking:
Seize the day, place in the hours that come as little faith as you can.
On the Flight of Time
Horace: Book I, Ode 2
"Tu ne quæsieris, scire nefas, quem, mihi, quem tibi"
AD LEUCONOEN
Look not, Leuconoë, into the future;
Seek not to find what the answer may be;
Let no Chaldean clairvoyant compute your
Time of existence. . . . It irritates me!
Better to bear whatever may happen soever
Patiently, playing it through like a sport,
Whether the end of your breathing is Never,
Or, as is likely, your time will be short.
This is the angle, the true situation;
Get me, I pray, for I'm putting you hep:
While I've been fooling with versification
Time has been flying. . . . Both gates!
Watch your step!
poem by Franklin P. Adams
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To One Who Would Make A Confession
Oh! leave the past to buy its own dead.
The past is naught to us, the present all.
What need of last year's leaves to strew Love's bed?
What need of ghosts to grace a festival?
I would not, if I could, those days recall,
Those days not ours. For us the feast is spread.
The lamps are lit, and music plays withal.
Then let us love and leave the rest unsaid.
This island is our home. Around it roar
Great gulfs and oceans, channels, straits and seas.
What matter in what wreck we reached the shore,
So we both reached it? We can mock at these.
Oh! leave the past, if past indeed there be;
I would not know it; I would know but thee.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Pray
I just can't sleep tonight
Knowing that things ain't right
It's in the papers, it's on the TV, it's
everywhere that I go
Children are crying, soldiers are dying,
some people don't have a home
But I know there's sunshine behind that
rain
I know there's good times behind that
pain
Hey, can you tell me how I can make a
change?
I close my eyes and I can see a brighter
day
I close my eyes and pray
I close my eyes and I can see a better
day
I close my eyes and pray
I lose my appetite knowing kids starve
tonight
Am I a sinner, 'cause my dinner is still
on my plate?
Ooh I got a vision to make a difference
And it's starting today'Cause I know there's sunshine behind
that rain
I know there's good times behind that
pain
Can you tell me how I can make a
change?
I close my eyes and I can see a brighter
day
I close my eyes and pray
I close my eyes and I can see a better
day
I close my eyes and pray for the
brokenhearted
I pray for the life not started
I pray for all the ones not breathing
I pray for all the souls in need
I pray, can you give 'em one today?
poem by Pawan Kumar 'Meonlafesta'
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Constant Time
Time past and the future give way to this present picture,
But can somebody tell me how to recognize that gate that leads to the bed of roses,
We speak about the future like the past is a grain of sand on the shore,
Washed away by the ocean tide,
Giving way to new grains to make a portrait of the present,
These past memories stay deep in our heart like the depths of the ocean,
Though it gets washed back to shore ones in a blue moon,
Reminding us that our past is a standard measurement of our strength,
Time moves so fast making the past to fade away,
this makes us seem so secured about the present,
Forgetting the fact that our present becomes our past that was once a present from nature as a new day,
Some take the future to be a dream and a wish,
But I take my future to be what I see when I stand from the bottom of the mountain to look at the top,
And my past to be the depth of the ocean that can always be washed ashore …
The only thing I can control is my present,
Yes cos my mind controls my hands to give you a flash of what goes on in my head
Like this words i write to you was once my future and will become my past, making my future my past and my past my future..So ironical isn’t it?
Standing here I sure know 1 thing,
I will reach the top by that foot path,
Yes of course it’s not to mean that I wouldn’t fall,
But I have to break myself off my present past and walk with grace to stand where I belong,
There where I am the king of my destiny,
The past is just going to be a page of memories,
And my future will become my present making time constant in my head,
Because I stand on my past which was once my present and my present which was once my future, making time equal and constant
As I flip thru this page of life,
By: ade
poem by Adeniran Oluokun
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Pray
Turn the night into a glory day
Stand up for the rules and pray
Refrain:
We can make it a better place
When we pray for freedom
It doesnt matter what kind of race
When we pray for freedom
So lets live for the promised land
Living in harmony
So lets live with a helping hand
Dreams of a new generation
And we pray
1.
What has happened to paradise
In motion or paralysed
Isolation, immigration
Frustration all over the nation
Weve been waisting most of our time
just talking about things and thats no sign
Recognize - the advice
It is more than only an exercise
Remember of the world so far away
Where people stay and pray every day
They have their hopes they have their chance
They pray for peace and tolerance
Remember of past time paradise
A system without any compromise
Let me say, we can find a way
Stand up for the rules and pray
2.
What has happened to paradise
Is it turned into a world of sorrow and lies
So many people dont care about rules
Honest people seem to be the fools
Time to wise up, time to rise up
Open your eyes up,- to the top
Hold a dream against the wind
Close your eyes and let it in
Ive heard of a world so far away
Where people stay and pray every day
They have no god, no sovereign
They pray for their rules and so they win
Remember of pastime paradise
Weve been living in, no compromise
Let me say, we can find a way
Stand up for the rules and pray
song performed by by DJ Bobo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Madrigal: Song For Nectaria
O sweet Nectaria, keep a song to sing.
And fill your mind with thoughts that make you sigh,
while in your heart are hopes that rise sky high.
Should August's stormy days, their strong winds bring,
or darkest clouds would hide the sun and sky,
love finds you, if you keep a song to sing,
and fill your mind with thoughts that make you sigh.
Then, when Autumn left no more leaves to cling.
And songbirds search for nests where else to fly,
Never think this will be your time to cry.
But mark, to always keep a song to sing.
And fill your mind with thoughts that make you sigh,
while in your heart are hopes that rise sky high.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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(Heart Still) Shatters
Lie about feeling small
Low about standing up ever tall
For there's nothing like a brawl
Guess heart still shatters to crawl
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to crawl
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to crawl
For I'm not feeling whole
Only now I don't know wish to crawl
Denial of the love being ever minimal
Guess heart still shatters to crawl
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to crawl
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to crawl
Never wanted you to ignore this plea
Even no golden marquee
Every day passes not feeling free
Guess heart still shatters to see
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to see
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to see
Letting me forget priority
A memory passes over recently
So hurt now but so easily
Guess heart still shatters to see
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to see
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to see
But now I struggle to even adore
A hope goes out open doors
Left feeling like that of sore
Guess heart still shatters to ignore
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to ignore
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to ignore
For unsure what's in store
May leave me feeling unsure
Here life isn't yet pure
Guess heart still shatters to ignore
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to ignore
Heart still shatters
Heart still shatters to ignore
poem by Rich Downes
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Ask Me No More
Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
Ask me no more whither do stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale when May is past;
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters and keeps warm her note.
Ask me no more where those stars 'light
That downwards fall in dead of night;
For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixed become as in their sphere.
Ask me no more if east or west
The Phoenix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.
poem by Thomas Carew
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Song
ASK me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
Ask me no more whither do stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale when May is past;
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters and keeps warm her note.
Ask me no more where those stars 'light
That downwards fall in dead of night;
For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixed become as in their sphere.
Ask me no more if east or west
The Phoenix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.
poem by Thomas Carew
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Song Of Youth
Sing, youth, the loveliest song you know!
Sing the song that seethes within your breast,
Let your joy burst forth in passion...
Don't hold back your song! Let it soar.
Sing your song, youth. I beg you sing...
Let it seize you, kiss you, inspire you to love
With youthful ardour... Let the foaming wave of feelings
Which your song arouses surge over us.
Sing your song, youth, and laugh like children!
Let the sound of your voice rise to the heavens
And echo back to us again, from the envious stars.
For we adore you, as we adore the sun.
Sing, youth! Sing your joyful song!
Laugh, youth, laugh! The world is yours.
The Voyagers
HOW was it with the Genoese,
What feeling filled his heaving breast,
When far across the morning seas
He saw the island of his quest?
Perchance beyond the forest crown
And shining sands of that new clime
He saw a light of long renown
That blazed across the Seas of Time.
Or maybe, in that hour grown wise,
He would have bartered there and then
His life for some sweet life that lies
In utter peace unnamed of men.
For what is Fame, however brave,
Beside the charms of endless peace —
The cool, sweet quiet of the grave,
To be, and having been, to cease?
We quest not like the Genoese;
But, after sailing under skies
That bend and brood o'er lonely seas,
We light at last on some surprise.
Our eyes grow large, we stand amazed,
The past is past, our youth is gone,
The fronting hope that boldly blazed
Before our eyes grows pale and wan.
For every man must come to this,
With aching heart and eyes unsealed
That he shall know the thing he is,
And wonder at himself revealed.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Song of Youth
Sing, youth, the loveliest song you know!
Sing the song that seethes within your breast,
Let your joy burst forth in passion...
Don't hold back your song! Let it soar.
Sing your song, youth. I beg you sing...
Let it seize you, kiss you, inspire you to love
With youthful ardour... Let the foaming wave of feelings
Which your song arouses surge over us.
Sing your song, youth, and laugh like children!
Let the sound of your voice rise to the heavens
And echo back to us again, from the envious stars.
For we adore you, as we adore the sun.
Sing, youth! Sing your joyful song!
Laugh, youth, laugh! The world is yours.
poem by Millosh Gjergj Nikolla
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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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Aske me no more where Jove bestowes
ASK me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
Ask me no more whither doth stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale, when May is past;
For in your sweet, dividing throat
She winters, and keeps warm her note.
Ask me no more where those stars light,
That downwards fall in dead of night;
For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixed become, as in their sphere.
Ask me no more if east or west
The phoenix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.
poem by Thomas Carew
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Song
Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers, as in their causes, sleep.
Ask me no more whither doth stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale, when May is past;
For in your sweet, dividing throat
She winters, and keeps warm her note.
Ask me no more where those stars light,
That downwards fall in dead of night;
For in your eyes they sit, and there
Fixed become, as in their sphere.
Ask me no more if east or west
The phoenix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.
poem by Thomas Carew
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A Song: When June is Past, the Fading Rose
Ask me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauty's orient deep
These flowers as in their causes, sleep.
Ask me no more whither doth stray
The golden atoms of the day;
For in pure love heaven did prepare
Those powders to enrich your hair.
Ask me no more whither doth haste
The nightingale when May is past;
For in your sweet dividing throat
She winters and keeps warm her note.
Ask me no more where those stars light
That downwards fall in dead of night;
For in your eyes they sit, and there,
Fixed become as in their sphere.
Ask me no more if east or west
The phœnix builds her spicy nest;
For unto you at last she flies,
And in your fragrant bosom dies.
poem by Thomas Carew
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For Him I Sing
FOR him I sing,
I raise the Present on the Past,
(As some perennial tree, out of its roots, the present on the past:)
With time and space I him dilate--and fuse the immortal laws,
To make himself, by them, the law unto himself.
poem by Walt Whitman
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