The Eagle of the Blue
ALOFT he guards the starry folds
Who is the brother of the star;
The bird whose joy is in the wind
Exulteth in the war.
No painted plume—a sober hue,
His beauty is his power;
That eager calm of gaze intent
Foresees the Sibyl’s hour.
Austere, he crowns the swaying perch,
Flapped by the angry flag;
The hurricane from the battery sings,
But his claw has known the crag.
Amid the scream of shells, his scream
Runs shrilling; and the glare
Of eyes that brave the blinding sun
The volleyed flame can bear.
The pride of quenchless strength is his—
Strength which, though chained, avails;
The very rebel looks and thrills—
The anchored Emblem hails.
Though scarred in many a furious fray,
No deadly hurt he knew;
Well may we think his years are charmed—
The Eagle of the Blue.
poem by Herman Melville
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Related quotes
The Eagle and The Bear
The eagle's strength to compare that
of the bear this is how they fair the bear
can rip apart anything standing there
yet the eagle can fly through the air
the mighty physical strength of the bear must
stay on the ground in a limited area
around yet the eagle's strength of us do share
it's in every heart and on something's we wear
it shows the strength of the eagle for all to share
the eagle and the bear.
poem by David J. Pipkin
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The Rainbow Of Promise
In the face of the sun are great thunderbolts hurled,
And the storm-clouds have shut out its light;
But a Rainbow of Promise now shines on the world,
And the universe thrills at the sight.
Tis the flag of our Union, the red, white, and blue,
Our Star-spangled Banner-our pride;
Fair symbol of all that is noble and true,
Flung out over continents wide.
Flung out in its glory o'er land and o'er sea,
With a message from God in each star;
And a glorious promise of peace yet to be
In the fluttering folds of each bar.
A Rainbow of Promise, bright emblem of hope,
Fair flag of each cause that is just;
No longer in doubt or in darkness we grope-
In the Star-spangled Banner we trust.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Banner Of Men Who Were Free
Flag of the great republic, banner of men who were free!
Carried aloft for freedom in many a bloody gorge;
Torn by the shot of tyrants in battle by land and sea,
The rallying hope of our fathers by Valley Forge.
But what is it but a rag, save it emblem the higher law?
Striped with the red of blood, flecked with the stars of war.
The ensign of might alone, to be held by the people in awe,
And cursed by savage chieftans in lands afar.
Little we owe to the England of this her lesser day,
But much to the field of Naseby, the spirit of Runnymede;
The bold adventurous Angles, who never shrank from the fray
When Liberty cried aloud in her hour of need.
Aloft on the dome of truth, in the city of brotherly love,
A sign to the world of hate, of Christ enthroned in the state,
Symbol of peace, like the olive leaf and the messenger dove,
Flew the flag of our fathers--the sign of a just debate!
But they dare to raise its standard on a field where the battle smoke,
Is rent with the groans of the slain, like the fallen of Lexington;
Where the eagles have traveled afar from the vultures of war which croak
O'er the bodies of those who died for the prize that it should have won?
Flag of a noble race, no longer our flag in truth,
Borne by a hostile hand in a cause of shame,
Give us the banner that flapped in the eyes of the nation's youth
And sent a thrill through the world of its faultless flame!
Yet, if its soul shall perish, take it for what it was --
For the shroud of those who worship the dead ideal;
Dead to lie with the dead beneath the recurrent grass,
No longer to grieve for the lost and no more to feel.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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Farewell My Rebel Latvian (For Erica)
Farewell my noble rebel so cold and deep the grave
But you were not afraid of death and you were always brave
You were my favourite brother the one I loved the best
The rebel heart from Latvia has gone to peaceful rest.
I remember back in Germany when you and your friend ran away
You planned to go to Latvia to join the rebel fray
But of course ye did not make it as ye were far too young
you were the lad of action who spoke with rebel tongue.
Farewell my brother Johnny you never lived to see
the greatest dream you ever had that Latvia might be free,
Free of the tyrant Soviets and their brutality
We had so much in common we loved our own Country.
Farewell my rebel Latvian with dignity you died
You bore your suffering bravely and and faced the end with pride
God thought you'd suffered too much and on your life quenched the light
And now you're in a freer World where you won't have to fight
Farewell my rebel brother my heart is flood with tears
You were my king and hero in hard and bitter years
But god he loved you better he took you from your pain
And we will meet in heaven I know we'll meet again.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Death Of The Fly
WITH eagerness he drinks the treach'rous potion,
Nor stops to rest, by the first taste misled;
Sweet is the draught, but soon all power of motion
He finds has from his tender members fled;
No longer has he strength to plume his wing,
No longer strength to raise his head, poor thing!
E'en in enjoyment's hour his life he loses,
His little foot to bear his weight refuses;
So on he sips, and ere his draught is o'er,
Death veils his thousand eyes for evermore.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Scream
Scream
Scream at the world
For all your pain
For all your worries
For all that you lost
For all that you gained
Scream
Scream at the world
Wipe your tears away
Listen to it echo
Feel the stress
Melt away
Scream
Scream at the world
For loves found
And loves lost
For every feeling
That gets jumbled up
Scream
Scream at the world
For your horrible day
For the things that they say
For everything that
Drags you down
Scream
Scream at the world
Then let it fade away
Tomorrow's a new day
Today is a memory
No one knows what' ll happen
Scream
Scream at the world
Then look ahead
Never back
Life moves
One day at a time
poem by Autumn Winds
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Wind makes me just as Fire
The wind makes me feel-
finally free
The stronger it hits my skin-
the more vividly I see
The fire is inside of me
I go outside-
and touch the wind
Hearing cracks and licks-
as if being whipped
I raise my hands-
yearning so much freedom
My eyes shut
Not knowing what it is I've done-
I realize
Watching this fire in black darkness
And behind closed eyes-
I hear the whips-
and see the rage
Fire is angry
It wants just as much freedom as I
And there-
I understand
In a trance-
I watch this as if it were my child
This fire is my strength
Having all the courage and the power to break free
-yet-
My body refuses to let go
To let this 'thing' called strength take over
And this wind-
it shows me
It shows me what I keep
I keep my fire-
I keep my power
Wind makes me realize-
The strength that I keep is as strong as fire
poem by Monique Hillebrecht
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Blue Depths Of Your Eyes
Some blue eyes trap me in their depths,
Some blue eyes shine as crystals in darkness,
As i gaze at them fascinated and charmed,
I am melting in the blue depths of your eyes.
And when your eyes burst into tears,
I am seeing the ocean in them,
I am feeling like a boat that sails without veils,
As if i have lost my compass and spinning into the abyss.
I stare at those gorgeous blue eyes and cannot stop,
I fall to their power like i am hypnotized,
Radiating beauty and wisdom from their depths,
I feel trapped and happy in the blue depth of your eyes.
poem by Cristina Teodor
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My strenth
My Strength
Oh Brother! you are my strength!
Your smile gives me the power to survive
And your love gives me the right to live.
The truth is that I wouldn't be existing
Without you, and if I would be,
There would be no identity.
Oh Brother, your words move me towards my destiny,
And your spirit helps me to keep rocking
Every morning the sunshine reminds me of your bravery
And hence, asks me if i am your sister.
Oh Brother, you are my strength!
Your courage shakes me up and blows me out of my fear.
The struggle in your journey,
And the success of your mission
Says me that nothing is impossible, but is a strong will
Oh Brother, you are my strength!
In the days when I am falling, you persuade me.
You are the sunshine and you are the moon.
No dreams would be fulfilled without you
And so my dignity.
poem by Pratisha Karki
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By The Seaside : The Lighthouse
The rocky ledge runs far into the sea,
And on its outer point, some miles away,
The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry,
A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day.
Even at this distance I can see the tides,
Upheaving, break unheard along its base,
A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides
In the white lip and tremor of the face.
And as the evening darkens, lo! how bright,
Through the deep purple of the twilight air,
Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light
With strange, unearthly splendor in the glare!
Not one alone; from each projecting cape
And perilous reef along the ocean's verge,
Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape,
Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge.
Like the great giant Christopher it stands
Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave,
Wading far out among the rocks and sands,
The night-o'ertaken mariner to save.
And the great ships sail outward and return,
Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells,
And ever joyful, as they see it burn,
They wave their silent welcomes and farewells.
They come forth from the darkness, and their sails
Gleam for a moment only in the blaze,
And eager faces, as the light unveils,
Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze.
The mariner remembers when a child,
On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink;
And when, returning from adventures wild,
He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink.
Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same
Year after year, through all the silent night
Burns on forevermore that quenchless flame,
Shines on that inextinguishable light!
It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp
The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace;
It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp,
And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece.
The startled waves leap over it; the storm
Smites it with all the scourges of the rain,
And steadily against its solid form
Press the great shoulders of the hurricane.
The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din
Of wings and winds and solitary cries,
Blinded and maddened by the light within,
Dashes himself against the glare, and dies.
A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock,
Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove,
It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock,
But hails the mariner with words of love.
'Sail on!' it says, 'sail on, ye stately ships!
And with your floating bridge the ocean span;
Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse,
Be yours to bring man nearer unto man!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter CXIX: In Their Eyes
You don't intent to be modest
You don't mean to say those white lies
You just don't want to be judged bad in their eyes
You don't intent to be friendly
You don't mean to chat a long
You just don't want to look ugly in their eyes
You don't intent to be strong
You don't mean to show power
You just don't want to lose control in their eyes
You don't intent to be brave
You don't mean to take the role of hero
You just don't want to appear weak in their eyes
You don't intent to be obedient
You don't mean to do all the orders
You just don't want to be considered a threat in their eyes
You don't intent to be professional
You don't mean to follow the rules
You just don't want to be seen indifferent in their eyes
You don't intent to be kind
You don't mean to give a help
You just don't want to raise suspiciousness in their eyes
You don't intent to be generous
You don't mean to be involved in any relation
You just don't want to be outsider in their eyes
You don't intent to be honest
You don't mean to tell the truth
You just don't want to be the one who should be responsible in their eyes
You don't intent to be forgiving
You don't mean to forget every mistake
You just don't want to be called cruel in their eyes
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Blue Days
Blue Days
Blue days race
to starry nights.
Candles plunge
to panting dreams.
Power is brief.
The mounting sun
with youthful strength
lusts for noon’s brightest heights,
but ennui runs deep and gently receives
the sun’s fading fire,
night’s growing pyre.
poem by Steven Federle
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The Warrior's Prayer
Long since, in sore distress, I heard one pray,
'Lord, who prevailest with resistless might,
Ever from war and strife keep me away,
My battles fight!'
I know not if I play the Pharisee,
And if my brother after all be right;
But mine shall be the warrior's plea to thee--
Strength for the fight.
I do not ask that thou shalt front the fray,
And drive the warring foeman from my sight;
I only ask, O Lord, by night, by day,
Strength for the fight!
When foes upon me press, let me not quail
Nor think to turn me into coward flight.
I only ask, to make mine arms prevail,
Strength for the fight!
Still let mine eyes look ever on the foe,
Still let mine armor case me strong and bright;
And grant me, as I deal each righteous blow,
Strength for the fight!
And when, at eventide, the fray is done,
My soul to Death's bedchamber do thou light,
And give me, be the field or lost or won,
Rest from the fight!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Freedom (1960's)
To stand forth in strength;
The strength of wisdom,
The strength of knowledge,
The strength of power,
The strength to stand tall,
The strength to say nay,
The strength to be proud,
To be strong, able and wise,
Down this road true freedom lies...
poem by Karl Stuart Kline
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Wet Dream
My lips start shakin' when I see him walkin' down the street
Of all the boys in school, he's the only one I wanna meet
If he combs his hair, all my girlfriends start 2 scream
He's so clean, he's the number one star of my wet dream
I get so angry if I see him with another dame
I start 2 tremble and I don't even know his name
If he takes her 2 the soda shop, guess who's gonna buy the ice cream?
She gives him all her money cuz he's the star of her wet dream
Can't help it, can't help it, can't help it
Ooh honey, honey, boy he's so fine
I can't help it, can't help it, can't help it
Ooh honey, honey, gotta, gotta make him mine
My body starts 2 quiver when I think of his next 2 mine
I know he could deliver the dam 2 the river anytime
He's so good lookin', he's the cutest dude I ever seen
He's my little lover, number one star of my wet dream
Can't help it, can't help it, can't help it
Ooh honey, honey, boy he's so fine
I can't help it, can't help it, can't help it
Ooh honey, honey, gotta, gotta make him mine
Oh yeah
Make my body scream
U're the star of my wet dream
Somebody, somebody, somebody help me sing
U're my little lover, make my body scream
U're my little lover, number one star of my wet dream
(Everybody sing 2gether)
U're my little lover, U make my body scream (Make my body scream)
U're my little lover, number one star of my wet dream {repeat phrase}
Yes U is
(Everybody sing 2gether)
Yeah, yeah
(U're my star)
Oh honey, honey, honey, honey, uh
My wet dream, my wet dream, my wet dream
I can't help it, can't help it, can't help it
(U're my little lover, number one star of my wet dream)
Yeah, ooh ooh ooh
I can't help it, no, I can't (Make my body scream, yes U)
Honey, honey, honey, honey, honey, honey, honey
U're my little lover, U make my body scream
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Frithiof's Temptation. (From The Swedish)
Spring is coming, birds are twittering, forests leaf, and smiles the sun,
And the loosened torrents downward, singing, to the ocean run;
Glowing like the cheek of Freya, peeping rosebuds 'gin to ope,
And in human hearts awaken love of life, and joy, and hope.
Now will hunt the ancient monarch, and the queen shall join the sport:
Swarming in its gorgeous splendor, is assembled all the Court;
Bows ring loud, and quivers rattle, stallions paw the ground alway,
And, with hoods upon their eyelids, scream the falcons for their prey.
See, the Queen of the Chase advances! Frithiof, gaze not at the sight!
Like a star upon a spring-cloud sits she on her palfrey white.
Half of Freya, half of Rota, yet more beauteous than these two,
And from her light hat of purple wave aloft the feathers blue.
Gaze not at her eyes' blue heaven, gaze not at her golden hair!
Oh beware! her waist is slender, full her bosom is, beware!
Look not at the rose and lily on her cheek that shifting play,
List not to the voice beloved, whispering like the wind of May.
Now the huntsman's band is ready. Hurrah! over hill and dale!
Horns ring, and the hawks right upward to the hall of Odin sail.
All the dwellers in the forest seek in fear their cavern homes,
But, with spear outstretched before her, after them the Valkyr comes.
. . . . . . . . . .
Then threw Frithiof down his mantle, and upon the greensward spread,
And the ancient king so trustful laid on Frithiof's knee his head,
Slept as calmly as the hero sleepeth, after war's alarm,
On his shield, or as an infant sleeps upon its mother's arm.
As he slumbers, hark! there sings a coal-black bird upon the bough;
'Hasten, Frithiof, slay the old man, end your quarrel at a blow:
Take his queen, for she is thine, and once the bridal kiss she gave,
Now no human eye beholds thee, deep and silent is the grave,'
Frithiof listens; hark! there sings a snow-white bird upon the bough:
'Though no human eye beholds thee, Odin's eye beholds thee now.
Coward! wilt thou murder sleep, and a defenceless old man slay!
Whatsoe'er thou winn'st, thou canst not win a hero's fame this way.'
Thus the two wood-birds did warble: Frithiof took his war-sword good,
With a shudder hurled it from him, far into the gloomy wood.
Coal-black bird flies down to Nastrand, but on light, unfolded wings,
Like the tone of harps, the other, sounding towards the sun, upsprings.
Straight the ancient king awakens. 'Sweet has been my sleep,' he said;
'Pleasantly sleeps one in the shadow, guarded by a brave man's blade.
But where is thy sword, O stranger? Lightning's brother, where is he?
Who thus parts you, who should never from each other parted be?'
'It avails not,' Frithiof answered; 'in the North are other swords:
Sharp, O monarch! is the sword's tongue, and it speaks not peaceful words;
Murky spirits dwell in steel blades, spirits from the Niffelhem;
Slumber is not safe before them, silver locks but anger them.'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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An Image From A Past Life
He. Never until this night have I been stirred.
The elaborate starlight throws a reflection
On the dark stream,
Till all the eddies gleam;
And thereupon there comes that scream
From terrified, invisible beast or bird:
Image of poignant recollection.
She. An image of my heart that is smitten through
Out of all likelihood, or reason,
And when at last,
Youth's bitterness being past,
I had thought that all my days were cast
Amid most lovely places; smitten as though
It had not learned its lesson.
He. Why have you laid your hands upon my eyes?
What can have suddenly alarmed you
Whereon 'twere best
My eyes should never rest?
What is there but the slowly fading west,
The river imaging the flashing skies,
All that to this moment charmed you?
She. A Sweetheart from another life floats there
As though she had been forced to linger
From vague distress
Or arrogant loveliness,
Merely to loosen out a tress
Among the starry eddies of her hair
Upon the paleness of a finger.
He. But why should you grow suddenly afraid
And start -- I at your shoulder --
Imagining
That any night could bring
An image up, or anything
Even to eyes that beauty had driven mad,
But images to make me fonder?
She. Now She has thrown her arms above her head;
Whether she threw them up to flout me,
Or but to find,
Now that no fingers bind,
That her hair streams upon the wind,
I do not know, that know I am afraid
Of the hovering thing night brought me.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Harry Wilmans
I was just turned twenty-one,
And Henry Phipps, the Sunday-school superintendent,
Made a speech in Bindle’s Opera House.
“The honor of the flag must be upheld,” he said,
“Whether it be assailed by a barbarous tribe of Tagalogs
Or the greatest power in Europe.”
And we cheered and cheered the speech and the flag he waved
As he spoke.
And I went to the war in spite of my father,
And followed the flag till I saw it raised
By our camp in a rice field near Manila,
And all of us cheered and cheered it.
But there were flies and poisonous things;
And there was the deadly water,
And the cruel heat,
And the sickening, putrid food;
And the smell of the trench just back of the tents
Where the soldiers went to empty themselves;
And there were the whores who followed us, full of syphilis;
And beastly acts between ourselves or alone,
With bullying, hatred, degradation among us,
And days of loathing and nights of fear
To the hour of the charge through the steaming swamp,
Following the flag,
Till I fell with a scream, shot through the guts.
Now there’s a flag over me in Spoon River!
A flag! A flag!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters from Spoon River Anthology
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Bald Eagle
Over the river and soaring high,
Wings spread wide, with confidence assured,
The strength, that mighty strength,
Soaring above, high in the sky,
Seeking prey to feed its young,
The courage of a warrior,
With eyes so keen,
Just as a hero, yet so unsung,
Wings so black, yet head so white,
The Bald Eagle Soars,
In the heavens so blue,
It stands for all, willing to fight,
Freedom it stands for,
A beauty in flight,
A character of strength,
With its beauty it soars
Over the water and then the trees,
With wings spread, as it peers to the ground
Owning the sky, as it soars above
Protecting its country, in the early spring breeze.
poem by B.J. Ayers
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A Bright Red Scream
A bright red scream
I have bright red angry screams.
Not within the voice of me.
But in the markss on my arms.
I cut and cut.
Now my scream is out and free.
My screams are nasty red cuts.
Angrier by the day.
Each cut is my
My bright red scream.
Every cut a new scream.
Screaming louder and louder.
The bright red scream.
Sets me free
If not for long
Just for a while.
My anger comes and goes
Like the ocean.
My anger is loud and red
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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