Prayer For His Lady’s Life
FROM PROPERTIUS, ELEGIAE, LIB. III, 26
Here let thy clemency, Persephone, hold firm,
Do thou, Pluto, bring here no greater harshness.
So many thousand beauties are gone down to Avernus,
Ye might let one remain above with us.
With you is lope, with you the white-gleaming Tyro,
With you is Europa and the shameless Pasiphae,
And all the fair from Troy and all from Achaia,
From the sundered realms, of Thebes and of aged Priamus;
And all the maidens of Rome, as many as they were,
They died and the greed of your flame consumes them.
Here let thy clemency, Persephone, hold firm.
Do thou, Pluto, bring here no greater harshness.
So many thousandfair are gone down to Avernus,
Ye might let one remain above with us.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Related quotes
Homage To Sextus Propertius - IX
1
The twisted rhombs ceased their clamour of accompaniment;
The scorched laurel lay in the fire-dust;
The moon still declined to descend out of heaven,
But the black ominous owl hoot was audible.
And one raft bears our fates
on the veiled lake towards Avernus
Sails spread on Cerulean waters, I would shed tears for two;
I shall live, if she continue in life,
If she dies, I shall go with her.
Great Zeus, save the woman,
or she will sit before your feet in a veil, and tell
out the long list of her troubles.
2
Persephone and Dis, Dis, have mercy upon her,
There are enough women in hell,
quite enough beautiful women,
lope, and Tyro, and Pasiphae, and the formal girls of Achaia,
And out of Troad, and from the Campania,
Death has his tooth in the lot,
Avernus lusts for the lot of them,
Beauty is not eternal, no man has perennial fortune,
Slow foot, or swift foot, death delays but for a season.
My light, light of my eyes,
you are escaped from great peril,
Go back to Great Dian's dances bearing suitable gifts,
Pay up your vow of night watches
to Dian goddess of virgins,
And unto me also pay debt:
The ten nights of your company you have promised me.
poem by Ezra Pound
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A Villanelle
O singer of Persephone!
In the dim meadows desolate
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still through the ivy flits the bee
Where Amaryllis lies in state;
O Singer of Persephone!
Simaetha calls on Hecate
And hears the wild dogs at the gate;
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still by the light and laughing sea
Poor Polypheme bemoans his fate;
O Singer of Persephone!
And still in boyish rivalry
Young Daphnis challenges his mate;
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Slim Lacon keeps a goat for thee,
For thee the jocund shepherds wait;
O Singer of Persephone!
Dost thou remember Sicily?
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Theocritus
O SINGER of Persephone!
In the dim meadows desolate
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still through the ivy flits the bee
Where Amaryllis lies in state;
O Singer of Persephone!
Simætha calls on Hecate
And hears the wild dogs at the gate;
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still by the light and laughing sea
Poor Polypheme bemoans his fate:
O Singer of Persephone!
And still in boyish rivalry
Young Daphnis challenges his mate:
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Slim Lacon keeps a goat for thee,
For thee the jocund shepherds wait,
O Singer of Persephone!
Dost thou remember Sicily?
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Theocritus - A Villanelle
O singer of Persephone!
In the dim meadows desolate
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still through the ivy flits the bee
Where Amaryllis lies in state;
O Singer of Persephone!
Simaetha calls on Hecate
And hears the wild dogs at the gate;
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still by the light and laughing sea
Poor Polypheme bemoans his fate;
O Singer of Persephone!
And still in boyish rivalry
Young Daphnis challenges his mate;
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Slim Lacon keeps a goat for thee,
For thee the jocund shepherds wait;
O Singer of Persephone!
Dost thou remember Sicily?
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Bavarian Gentians
Not every man has gentians in his house
in Soft September, at slow, Sad Michaelmas.
Bavarian gentians, big and dark, only dark
darkening the daytime torchlike with the smoking blueness of Pluto's
gloom,
ribbed and torchlike, with their blaze of darkness spread blue
down flattening into points, flattened under the sweep of white day
torch-flower of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto's dark-blue daze,
black lamps from the halls of Dis, burning dark blue,
giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter's pale lamps give off
light,
lead me then, lead me the way.
Reach me a gentian, give me a torch!
Let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of a flower
down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness
down the way Persephone goes, just now, in first-frosted September
to the sightless realm where darkness is married to dark
and Persephone herself is but a voice, as a bride
a gloom invisible enfolded in the deeper dark
of the arms of Pluto as he ravishes her once again
and pierces her once more with his passion of the utter dark
among the splendour of black-blue torches, shedding
fathomless darkness on the nuptials.
Bavarian gentians, tall and dark, but dark
darkening the daytime torch-like with the smoking blueness of Pluto's gloom,
ribbed hellish flowers erect, with their blaze of darkness spread blue,
blown flat into points, by the heavy white draught of the day.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Bavarian Gentias
Not every man has gentians in his house
in soft September, at slow, sad Michaelmas.
Bavarian gentians, big and dark, only dark
darkening the daytime, torch-like, with the smoking blueness of Pluto's
gloom,
ribbed and torch-like, with their blaze of darkness spread blue
down flattening into points, flattened under the sweep of white day
torch-flower of the blue-smoking darkness, Pluto's dark-blue daze,
black lamps from the halls of Dis, burning dark blue,
giving off darkness, blue darkness, as Demeter's pale lamps give off blight, lead me then, lead the way.
Reach me a gentian, give me a torch!
let me guide myself with the blue, forked torch of this flower
down the darker and darker stairs, where blue is darkened on blueness even where Persephone goes, just now, from the frosted September
to the sightless realm where darkness is awake upon the dark
and Persephone herself is but a voice
or a darkness invisible enfolded in the deeper dark
of the arms Plutonic, and pierced with the passion of dense gloom, among the splendor of torches of darkness, shedding darkness on the lost bride and her groom.
poem by David McKee Wright
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Rome
O thou newcomer who seek’st Rome in Rome
And find’st in Rome no thing thou canst call Roman;
Arches worn old and palaces made common
Rome’s name alone within these walls keeps home.
Behold how pride and ruin can befall
One who hath set the whole world ’neath her laws,
All-conquering, now conquered, because
She is Time’s prey, and Time conquereth all.
Rome that art Rome’s one sole last monument,
Rome that alone hast conquered Rome the town,
Tiber alone, transient and seaward bent,
Remains of Rome. O world, thou unconstant mime!
That which stands firm in thee Time batters down,
And that which fleeteth doth outrun swift Time.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Be Thou As It May
Evil men come to conquer I and I
With fables from history book
Corrupt the mind of the innocent ones
Enslave and took I and I land
Took I and I aboard
Dropped I and I a yard
You claimed you save I from a mundane life
So Africans you have to fight the good fight
Be thou as it may
You cannot break I and I spirit
For he will help you on your way
So stand firm and fight the good fight
Be thou as it may
You cannot break I and I spirit
For he will help you on your way
Stand firm NYABINGHI, stand firm
Now you claim you are superior
And I and I inferior
You sailed the seven seas
Spread lies, sickness, disease
You want to handcuff I and I with your drug
With your lies of your god above
Rastafari has revealed himself to I and I
To go ahead with your evil lies
Be thou as it may
You cannot break I and I spirit
For he will help you on your way
So stand firm and fight the good fight
Be thou as it may
You cannot break I and I spirit
For he will help you on your way
Stand firm kings and empress, stand firm
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Saint Swithun's day, if thou be fair, for forty days it will remain; Saint Swithun's day, if thou bring rain, for forty days it will remain.
Rejection of clemency
Rejection of clemency is
Not against democracy.
Democracy now become
Assembled of a gang of thugs.
The fundament of democracy
Violated by bunch of thieves.
No free no fair not transparent
Looting of national wealth rampant.
Clemency lost value
Above all there is no values
No human rights.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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The old one is expert
I bring my sexy buttocks;
Them, boys don’t know to act on.
You, the aged, must be an expert.
Turn me around and ride.
I bring my two sexy breasts;
Them, boys don’t know how to handle.
You, the aged, must be an expert.
Hold me under and kneed.
I bring my hot rosy lips;
Them, boys don’t know how to lock.
You, the aged, must be an expert.
Lift me up close and bruise.
I bring my burning lobes;
Them, boys don’t know how to pound on.
You, the aged, must be an expert.
Lay me on bed and tear.
I want a long, hard foreplay;
That boys aren’t patient to employ.
You, the aged, won’t be in hurry.
Bring me to orgasm and have glory.
26.09.2006.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Anacreontics, The Swallow
FOOLISH prater, what dost thou
So early at my window do?
Cruel bird, thou'st ta'en away
A dream out of my arms to-day;
A dream that ne'er must equall'd be
By all that waking eyes may see.
Thou this damage to repair
Nothing half so sweet and fair,
Nothing half so good, canst bring,
Tho' men say thou bring'st the Spring.
poem by Abraham Cowley
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Tiber, Nile, And Thames
THE head and hands of murdered Cicero,
Above his seat high in the Forum hung,
Drew jeers and burning tears. When on the rung
Of a swift-mounted ladder, all aglow,
Fluvia, Mark Antony's shameless wife, with show
Of foot firm-poised and gleaming arm upflung,
Bade her sharp needle pierce that god-like tongue
Whose speech fed Rome even as the Tiber's flow.
And thou, Cleopatra's Needle, that hadst thrid
Great skirts of Time ere she and Antony hid
Dead hope!—hast thou too reached, surviving death,
A city of sweet speech scorned,—on whose chill stone
Keats withered, Coleridge pined, and Chatterton,
Breadless, with poison froze the God-fired breath?
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Song
OH! go to sleep, my baby dear,
And I will hold thee on my knee;
Thy mother's in her winding sheet,
And thou art all that's left to me.
My hairs are white with grief and age,
I've borne the weight of every ill,
And I would lay me with my child,
But thou art left to love me still.
Should thy false father see thy face,
The tears would fill his cruel e'e,
But he has scorned thy mother's wo,
And he shall never look on thee:
But I will rear thee up alone,
And with me thou shalt aye remain;
For thou wilt have thy mother's smile,
And I shall see my child again.
poem by Joseph Rodman Drake
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Song: Oh! Go to Sleep
Oh! go to sleep, my baby dear,
And I will hold thee on my knee;
Thy mother's in her winding sheet,
And thou art all that's left to me.
My hairs are white with grief and age,
I've borne the weight of every ill,
And I would lay me with my child,
But thou art left to love me still.
Should thy false father see thy face,
The tears would fill his cruel e'e,
But he has scorned thy mother's woe,
And he shall never look on thee:
But I will rear thee up alone,
And with me thou shalt aye remain;
For thou wilt have thy mother's smile,
And I shall see my child again.
poem by Joseph Rodman Drake
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Travesty of justice
Issue of clemency
Is travesty of justice
Issue of clemency
Is tragedy of democracy.
Victims are dead
They are not vote bank
Criminals and near dear
Would pay dividends
Election a head.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Sonnet XLII: When Winter Snows
When Winter snows upon thy golden hairs,
And frost of age hath nipt thy flowers near,
When dark shall seem thy day that never clears,
And all lies wither'd that was held so dear,
Then take this picture which I here present thee,
Limn'd with a pencil not all unworthy:
Here see the gifts that God and Nature lent thee;
Here read thy self, and what I suffer'd for thee.
This may remain thy lasting monument,
Which happily posterity may cherish;
These colors with thy fading are not spent;
These may remain, when thou and I shall perish.
If they remain, then thou shalt live thereby;
They will remain, and so thou canst not die.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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No Greater Love
The angels can sing, but they don't know it all.
Heaven may have, streets made of gold,
But they don't have you like I have you to hold.
And like a prayer, you're everywhere!
That's how I know there's
No greater love!
When it's just you and me
That's how it's meant to be, and I know
There's no greater love!
We'll always be together,
On both sides of forever, I know
There's no greater love!
Ohhh Oh Oh
The touch of your fingers, on my skin,
I want to lay down beside you again.
The taste of your lips, pressed against mine,
Lost in this moment, way beyond time.
And like a prayer, you're everywhere!
That's how I know there's
No greater love!
When it's just you and me,
That's how it's meant to be, and I know
There's no greater love!
We'll always be together,
On both sides of forever I know
There's no greater love!
I would lay down my life for you,
And you would do the same for me,
I know it's true.
With every breath I breathe,
Baby, I believe,
There's no greater love!
When it's just you and me,
That's how it's meant to be and I know
There's no greater love!
We'll always be together,
On both sides of forever, I know
There's no greater love!
No greater love.
song performed by by Lonestar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hold On To Your Dream
I have learnt
To plant a dream
To plant a dream
And watch it grow
To nurture it
With rays of joy
And nurture it
With rains of woe
Bring forth a dream
With perseverance
To bring it forth
With patience, slow
To hold a dream
Not let it slip
To hold it firm
But let it flow
See your dream
Breathe your dream
Live and talk, embrace your dream
Don't let it go
Don't let it go
© EEOgbeta
poem by Elayne Ogbeta
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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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