Cicero
The Roman orator spoke out
'midst civil war and strife:
'Too long I slumbered, and Rome's night
Has overtaken me upon my journey!'
True! But in parting with Rom's glory
From the Capitoline heights
You watched in all its grandeur
The setting of her bloody sun! . . .
Blessed are they who sojourned here
In this world's fateful hours-
For they were summoned by the angels
As guests to a great feast;
They witnessed spectacles majestic,
Were brought into the inner circle,
And, while there, drank immortal life
From heav'n's own chalice!
poem by Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
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Related quotes
What Think You I Take My Pen In Hand?
WHAT think you I take my pen in hand to record?
The battle-ship, perfect-model'd, majestic, that I saw pass the
offing to-day under full sail?
The splendors of the past day? Or the splendor of the night that
envelopes me?
Or the vaunted glory and growth of the great city spread around me?--
No;
But I record of two simple men I saw to-day, on the pier, in the
midst of the crowd, parting the parting of dear friends;
The one to remain hung on the other's neck, and passionately kiss'd
him,
While the one to depart, tightly prest the one to remain in his arms.
poem by Walt Whitman
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One Fateful Friday Night
The night was young, the energy high.
The weekend was in sight.
For four lads from Vancouver.
On one fateful Friday night.
They suited up, put on their best.
And filed into the car.
Not knowing for them what lay ahead.
Off they went to a local bar.
The bar was packed, the drinks went down,
Everything seemed just right.
They were having the time of their lives.
That fateful Friday night.
They drank and drank and drank some more.
Until it was last call.
They ordered up a round of shots.
All for one and one for all.
They staggered back to their ride.
It seemed like so much fun.
But on that fateful Friday night.
The nightmare had just begun.
The car sped off the boys all laughed.
Not a problem in the world.
They laughed so hard, they didn't see,
The tiny little girl.
And then the sound they won't forget.
It cut them like a knife.
The four lads that went out for fun.
Had taken a young child's life.
They stopped the car and all got out.
They didn't make a sound.
They huddled around the little girl,
That lay bleeding on the ground.
Her hair done up in pigtails.
A pretty pink flowered dress.
Her mommy was coming home from work
So she wanted to look her best.
A mother's little baby girl.
And four futures that looked so bright.
Were all lost in a drunken haze.
On one fateful Friday night.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Tasso Dying
What festival is ancient Rome preparing?
Where flow the crowds in noisy waves?
Why these aromas, myrrh's sweet smoke
And censers all around abrim with fragrant herbs?
From Capitoline Hill to Tiber's waves,
Above universal city's streets,
Why are the priceless rugs and purple stuffs
Spread among garlands, laurels?
Why all this noise? The crash and thump of timpani?
Are these heralds of joy or triumph?
Why wearing the miter hastes the holy father
With gonfalon to the prayer house?
For whom doth thankful Rome's most valued gift,
The crown, in his hands shimmer?
For whom this triumph? - 'tis for you, o blessed bard!
For you this gift... Jerusalem's bard!
And now the joyful noise has reached the cell,
Where Death joins battle with Torquatto,
Where death's winged spirit swoops
Above the sufferer's blessed head.
Not weeping friends, nor praying monks,
Nor honor's late rewards
Can tame the iron hand of fate,
Which knows no mercy for the great.
Half-dead, he sees the horrid hour,
And blesses it with joy,
And parting with life, one final time,
The wondrous swan exclaims:
"My friends, O let me catch a glimpse of splendid Rome,
Where a too early grave awaits the bard!
Allow my glance to meet your hills and smoke,
O, ancient sepulcher of citizens!
O blessed land of heroes and of wonders!
Dust eloquent and ruins!
Azure and purple of cloudless skies,
You, poplars; and you, ancient olives.
Eternal Tiber, you, who slake the thirst of every tribe,
Sown with a universe of bones.
Doomed to an early end.
I greet you from within these dreary walls!
It's done! I stand before the fatal borne
To wild applause I won't step on Capitoline,
And glory's laurels on my feeble head
Won't sweeten the bard's frightful lot.
From youth I have been everybody's puppet.
I was an exile as a child,
I wandered, a poor traveler
Under the sweet Italian sky,
What turns of fate did I not suffer?
Where did the waves not toss my bark?
Where was I safe? Where was my daily bread
Not spattered with the tears of sorrow?
Sorrento! Cradle of my woe-filled days,
Where once at night, like a trembling Askania
Fate tore me from my mother's breast,
From her embraces sweet and kisses, -
Do you recall what tears I spilled in childhood
Alas! Since then, a plaything of cruel fate,
I've known great suffering, the poverty of life.
The depths by Fortune quarried.out
Beneath me, and the thunder never ceased!
Driven from place to place, from land to land,
In vain I sought a harbor on the earth:
I felt her hand relentless everywhere!
Her lightning everywhere harassed the bard!
Not in a peasant's meager hut,
Nor e'en protected by Alphonso's palace,
Nor under an obscure and silent roof,
Nor in the wilds, nor in the hills was my head safe.
Embittered by glory and ignominy alike,
An exile's head, from cradle consigned
Into the hands of an avenging goddess...
But friends! what clutches terribly my breast?
Why does my heart lament and tremble?
Whence do I come? What awful path have I been following,
And what behind me in the darkness gleams?
Ferrara...Furies...envy's serpent!..
Whither? O, whither, murderers of my gift!
I am in harbor. Here is Rome. My brothers and my kin!
Here are their tears and sweet embrace...
And Virgil's wreath upon the Capitoline hill.
Thus, I fulfilled Appollo's task.
From my first youth, his dedicated priest,
Through lightning, under raging skies,
I sang the grandeur glorious of bygone days,
In bondage I did not betray my soul,
It harbors still the muses' sweet delight,
And torments only reinforced my gift.
It lived in wonderland, by Zion's walls,
On Jordan's flowering shores;
It questioned you, impatient Cedron,
And you serene asylum of Lebanon!
It raised you from the dead, o heroes hoary,
To awesome glory's dazzle and grandeur:
It gazed upon you, Gottfried, ruler, king of kings,
Magnificent and calm 'midst whistling arrows;
On you, o young Rinaldo, ardent as Achilles,
In love and battle a blessed victor.
It watched you fly above the corpses of your foes,
Like fire, like death, like an avenging angel...
And Tartarus is vanquished by a shining cross!
O models of extraordinary valor!
O holy triumph of our ancestors,
Long laid to rest! Pure faith victorious!
Torquato has invoked you from the depths of time:
He sings - and you will never be forgot, -
He sings, and gains the wreath of immortality,
By glory woven and the muses' hands.
But it's too late! I stand before the fatal borne.
To wild applause I won't step on Capitoline,
And glory's laurels on my feeble head
Won't sweeten the bard's frightful lot.
He then fell mute, eyes burning with a doleful flame,
A final ray of talent 'ere the end;
Even in dying, it seemed he wished
To wrest a day of triumph from the Fates,
His gaze sought out the Capitoline walls,
He strained to raise himself,
But, spent by struggles terrible with death,
Remained immobile on his bed.
The golden orb was sliding to the west,
And sinking in a scarlet glow;
The hour of death approached...the sufferer's somber brow
Brightened a final time.
He gazed with quiet smile toward the west...
And then, refreshed by evening chill,
He raised his right hand to the listening heavens,
Like a full righteous man, with hope and joy:.
"See," to his weeping friends he quoth,
"The king of stars burns in the west!
'Tis he who summons me to cloudless lands,
Where the eternal star will shine...
I see the angel to that realm my guide;
He has enfolded me in azure wings...
Bring close the sign of love - the cross mysterious...
And pray with hope and tears...
All earthly things must die...both glory and the crown...
Art and the muses' great creations,
But there all's neverending like our God
Who vouchsafes us eternal glory's crown!
The greatness of that place has filled my soul,
I've breathed it since my cradle days.
O brothers! Friends! Don't weep for me:
Your friend's attained his long-sought goal.
He will depart in peace and, strong of faith,
He will not heed the agonizing end:
There, there...O joy!..among the righteous wives,
Among the angels, Elenora waits!"
And, uttering the name of love, the heav'nly poet died;
In silence friends wept over him,
The day died quietly... the voice of bells
Bore the unhappy news through city streets.
"Torquatto's gone!" Rome cried in grief,
"Our bard is dead, so worthy of a better life!..
The morning witnessed somber smoke.
The Capitoline in mourning cloaked..
poem by Konstantin Nikolaevich Batiushkov
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Blessed Be Thy Name Forever
Blessed be thy name for ever,
Thou of life the guard and giver!
Thou canst guard thy creatures sleeping,
Heal the heart long broke with weeping.
Thou who slumbered not, nor sleepest!
Blest are they Thou kindly keepest:
Thine the flaming sphere of light!
Thine the darkness of the night!
Thine the morning and the even,
God of angels, God of heaven!
God of life that fadeth never!
Glory to thy name for ever!
poem by James Hogg
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Shakespeare and Milton
THE TONGUE of England, that which myriads
Have spoken and will speak, were paralyz’d
Hereafter, but two mighty men stand forth
Above the flight of ages, two alone;
One crying out,
All nations spoke through me.
The other:
True; and through this trumpet burst God’s word; the fall of Angels, and the doom
First of immortal, then of mortal, Man.
Glory! be glory! not to me, to God.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Love Has Come
Hurry now wake up your eyes,
Time for little ones to see.
Daddys got a big surprise
Hiding there beneath the christmas tree.
How they are like the child in me!
See the wonder in their eyes,
Like a fairytale come true.
One more time I realize
All the love our lives found in you.
Love has come
For the world to know,
As the wisemen knew
Such a long time ago.
And I believe that angels sang
That hope had begun,
When the God of glory,
Who is full of mercy,
Sent his son.
If I could have a special dream
Coming true on christmas morn,
I would want the world to see
How his father smiled when christ was born.
The greatest gift the world has known!
So come on kids, look high and low
For all the toys youve dreamed to find,
But I believe youll never know
A greater joy than jesus love inside.
(you gotta know!)
(know!)
Love has come
For the world to know,
As the wisemen knew
Such a long time ago.
And I believe that angels sang
That hope had begun,
When the God of glory,
Who is full of mercy,
Yes, the God of glory,
Sent his son.
(dont you know that)
Love has come
For the world to know, (know)
As the wisemen knew
Such a long time ago.
And I believe that angels sang
That hope had begun,
When the God of glory,
Who is full of mercy,
Yes, the God of glory,
Sent his son.
Love has come
For the world to know,
As the wisemen knew
Such a long time ago.
And I believe that angels sang
That hope had begun,
When the God of glory,
Who is full of mercy,
Yes, the God of glory,
Sent his son.
(dont you know)
Love has come
For the world to know,
As the wisemen knew
Such a long time ago.
And I believe that angels sang
That hope had begun,
When the God of glory,
Who is full of mercy,
Yes, the God of glory,
Sent his son.
(I can see that)
Love has come
For the world to know,
As the wisemen knew
Such a long time ago.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I look at Rome; She has nearly three thousand years of civilization, but she flows as if she were new, looking as young and carefree as water when she makes water. A city where art and culture predominate more than anything else.
Overall, Rome is a mysterious city. The ancient ruins on the one hand suggest the glory of the Roman Empire, on the other they strike the opulence and grandeur of the Baroque buildings. And last but not least, be captivated by the speed and crazy rhythms of today's civilization translated into the huge number of tourists in the city, flooded with people, cameras and souvenirs. Everyone chooses his Rome, be it imperial, baroque or modern. But for everyone the city, once the center of the world, is a real historical symbol.
Camelia Oprița in book Wall of thoughts (We look for the past to invent the future) (2000)
Submitted by Livius Ciocarlie
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Ideals
Better than land or gold or trade
Are a high ideal and a purpose true;
Better than all of the wealth we've made
Is the work for others that now we do.
For Rome grew rich and she turned to song
And danced to music and drank her wine,
But she sapped the strength of her fibres strong
And a gilded shroud was her splendor fine.
The Rome of old with its wealth and wine
Was the handiwork of a sturdy race;
They builded well and they made it fine
And they dreamed of it as their children's place.
They thought the joys they had won to give,
And which seemed so certain and fixed and sure,
To the end of time in the world would live
And the Rome they'd fashioned would long endure.
They passed to their children the hoarded gold,
Their marble halls and their fertile fields!
But not the spirit of Rome of old,
Nor the Roman courage that never yields.
They left them the wealth that their hands had won,
But they failed to leave them a purpose true.
They left them thinking life's work all done,
And Rome went down and was lost to view.
We must guard ourselves lest we follow Rome.
We must leave our children the finer things.
We must teach them love of the spot called home
And the lasting joy that a purpose brings.
For vain are our Flag and our battles won,
And vain are our lands and our stores of gold,
If our children feel that life's work is done.
We must give them a high ideal to hold.
poem by Edgar Albert Guest
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It Came Upon Midnight Clear (Babys In Black)
===============================
It Came Upon a Midnight Clear
===============================
It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, good will to men,
From heaven's all-gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.
Still through the cloven skies they come
With peaceful wings unfurled,
And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o'er its Babel-sounds
The blessed angels sing.
Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the heavenly strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The tidings which they bring;
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!
O ye, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,
Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
O rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing!
For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophets seen of old,
When with the ever-circling years
Shall come the time foretold,
When peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thirty Eight Years...time really got wings!
Braving through the ocean of emotions...
Life's journey....38 years whizzed by..
Time has wings and it really did fly..
Twas a long journey, life's emotional battle and managed to survive
When from heaven came in two angels to my dreams to revive...
So much love, joy, laughter, tears that each dawning day met.
Made the uncertainty the confusion so easy rapidly to forget..
Unmoved by the passing expected storms with many a weep..
Helped shape my life to daringly climb the mountains so steep..
then came another sweet angelic two with the blessing from above..
It filled my heart with the sweetest fragrance of eternal love..
Sharing individually, collectively days, a many that were not a song
It so true.. almost a half a century and we manage to trudge along..
through the years a journey that keeps still a sailing in the same majestic fleet
till the angels call and hopefully in the land of no return more happiness we meet!
Were you that 19 year old in dark glasses, the drummer that came so long long ago
I was ust seventeen and half that photo of you in my heart lives on forever more....tnx
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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The Maundy Thursday
In a feast the host must receive the guests
With humility. Else he is the beast
That relegates his guests as mere beggars.
Jesus washed guests' feet on Maundy Thursday.[before the feast]
25.03.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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When In Rome
Well, you must be from the city
'Cause you sure ain't from round here
There ain't no smoke free section
We don't sell no import beer.
You been throwin' round that attitude
Since you walked in that door
I don't know where you come from
But you ain't there anymore
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But, when your down home
You better do like us.
You been lookin' down your nose
At our water tower town
Ain't no one getting rich
But, there's enough to go around.
If ya don't like tracy's cookin'
Well, ya best still leave a tip
She's back there in that kitchen
With a baby on her hip.
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But, when your down home
You better do like us.
You put your best foot forward
When you go to meet a man
Look him in the eye
And put a good grip on his hand.
Don't cuss around the ladies
Tell us how to raise our kids
We like doing business
Like our daddys, daddys did.
When you drive off in your beamer
If ya don't do 35
Don't give no lip to Beuford
Or he might just dot your eye.
And when your at the courthouse
Before Ole judge McCall
You best not say a word
About them comandments on his wall.
Naw!
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But when your down home
You better do like us.
Yeah, Yeah Yeah
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's
But when your down home
You better do like us.
Mmmm Hmmmm
Better do like us boy
Don't you come in here talking all that trash
Ya just might get your nose smashed.
When in Rome,
You can do like the Roman's...
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Little Long Time
At breakfast tea & some toast are nice
the TV's on I'm lying in bed
My feed are cold and my cheeks are red
I pat my real fat cat
Nobody knows my secret dreams,
Nobody knows why I can't sleep
But if you ever felt before
like I feel now you know much more.
A little long time I watched TV
A little long time I drank my tea
A little long time I tapped my feet
But all the time I thought of you
The spinach tastes like raspberry jelly
The snow sounds like the buzzards bees
The rain is like the childrens laughter
And everything is like a dream.
A little long time I watched TV
A little long time I drank my tea
A little long time I tapped my feet
But all the time I thought of you
A little long time I watched TV
A little long time I drank my tea
A little long time I tapped my feet
But all the time I thought of you
song performed by by Wonderwall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Hymn To The Evening
SOON as the sun forsook the eastern main
The pealing thunder shook the heav'nly plain;
Majestic grandeur! From the zephyr's wing,
Exhales the incense of the blooming spring.
Soft purl the streams, the birds renew their notes,
And through the air their mingled music floats.
Through all the heav'ns what beauteous dies are
spread!
But the west glories in the deepest red:
So may our breasts with ev'ry virtue glow,
The living temples of our God below!
Fill'd with the praise of him who gives the light,
And draws the sable curtains of the night,
Let placid slumbers sooth each weary mind,
At morn to wake more heav'nly, more refin'd;
So shall the labours of the day begin
More pure, more guarded from the snares of sin.
Night's leaden sceptre seals my drowsy eyes,
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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Son-Days
1
Bright shadows of true Rest! some shoots of bliss,
Heaven once a week;
The next world's gladness prepossest in this;
A day to seek;
Eternity in time; the steps by which
We Climb above all ages; Lamps that light
Man through his heap of dark days; and the rich,
And full redemption of the whole week's flight.
2
The Pulleys unto headlong man; time's bower;
The narrow way;
Transplanted Paradise; God's walking hour;
The Cool o'th' day;
The Creatures' _Jubilee_; God's parle with dust;
Heaven here; Man on the hills of Myrrh, and flowers;
Angels descending; the Returns of Trust;
A Gleam of glory, after six-days'-showers.
3
The Church's love-feasts; Time's Prerogative,
And Interest
Deducted from the whole; The Combs, and hive,
And home of rest.
The milky way chalked out with suns; a clue
That guides through erring hours; and in full story
A taste of Heav'n on earth; the pledge, and cue
Of a full feast: And the Out Courts of glory.
poem by Henry Vaughan
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Lailathul Qadr
Lailathul Qadr
The undisclosed holy night
In ramzan, Muslim’s holy month
Better than a thousand nights
A night of peace and piety
Of Quran revealed to Prophet
Dispelling darkness of ignorance
The night of supreme peace
The Night of Power
Converts the night of darkness
Into a night of spiritual glory
Dissipates the spiritual darkness
By the glory of God
A new spiritual world dawns
Bless the nook and corner of human heart
Blessed are those who toiled for god
In god’s ways, not their own
The mortal night opens a door
To immortal glory of men!
poem by Abdul Hakeem Parannur
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Today... 'Glory In Midst Of Her
Radiant and splendid in the midst of her
a wall of holy fire so full of grandeur
is the Lord our God the Majestic One
Whose Glory eclipses the bright noonday sun.
Magnificently seated upon the throne.
Such radiance and beauty is His alone.
Brilliantly resplendent enthroned in light.
Jehovah the Lord is a magnificent sight.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Unto You This Night
On a night so long ago
By the light of one bright star
Two weary travelers far from galilee
Took refuge in a stable
Where a little child was born
To bring the gift of love to you and me
When the angels told the shepherds of his birth
There came a great rejoicing on the earth
Chorus:
And they sang glory to God in the highest
Dawning that first christmas morn
Peace on earth and ridings of great joy
For unto you this night a child is born
And, lo, these many years since then
That ancient star still guides us
And now again our christmas voices ring
Blessed we are and safe at home
With loved ones her beside us
And in the still and silent night we sing
How the angels told the shepherds of his birth
And there came a great rejoicing on the earth
Repeat chorus:
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Christmas Revisited
Two thousand years ago
In Bethlehem town, Oh,
A baby boy was born
In manger-shed forlorn!
He lay upon the hay,
Swaddled in cloths that day,
As watched Mary mother,
And Joseph, his father.
It was a cold, dark night;
There was just oil-lamp’s light;
But angels-choir sang song,
As bells near tolled ding-dong!
’Emmanuel’, his name;
The near-by shepherds came;
They worshipped babe boy-king,
As angels turned to sing.
Oh, what a heavenly sight!
The baby slept so tight;
He had brought joy to all,
Peace to men of good-will!
The boy was ‘King of kings’
For heaven, all earthlings!
The redeemer foretold,
For sinners of this world.
Bethlehem’s star stood there;
A phenomenon rare,
And brought the Magi three,
By camel-back to see!
It was a dream come true
Born was a Savior new,
Who shunned all pomp and show;
Rejoiced earth, heaven, Oh!
‘Hosanna in the high,
Sang angels in the sky! ’
Glory and thanks to God
For his love, mercy odd!
Spread Christmas cheer around
Spread peace, joy across world;
God’s kingdom is now nigh
If repentant, we die!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-16-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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