Cassandra
O Hymen king.
Hymen, O Hymen king,
what bitter thing is this?
what shaft, tearing my heart?
what scar, what light, what fire
searing my eye-balls and my eyes with flame?
nameless, O spoken name,
king, lord, speak blameless Hymen.
Why do you blind my eyes?
why do you dart and pulse
till all the dark is home,
then find my soul
and ruthless draw it back?
scaling the scaleless,
opening the dark?
speak, nameless, power and might;
when will you leave me quite?
when will you break my wings
or leave them utterly free
to scale heaven endlessly?
A bitter, broken thing,
my heart, O Hymen lord,
yet neither drought nor sword
baffles men quite,
why must they feign to fear
my virgin glance?
feigned utterly or real
why do they shrink?
my trance frightens them,
breaks the dance,
empties the market-place;
if I but pass they fall
back, frantically;
must always people mock?
unless they shrink and reel
as in the temple
at your uttered will.
O Hymen king,
lord, greatest, power, might,
look for my face is dark,
burnt with your light,
your fire, O Hymen lord;
is there none left
can equal me
in ecstasy, desire?
is there none left
can bear with me
the kiss of your white fire?
is there not one,
Phrygian or frenzied Greek,
poet, song-swept, or bard,
one meet to take from me
this bitter power of song,
one fit to speak, Hymen,
your praises, lord?
May I not wed
as you have wed?
may it not break, beauty,
from out my hands, my head, my feet?
may Love not lie beside me
till his heat
burn me to ash?
may he not comfort me, then,
spent of all that fire and heat,
still, ashen-white and cool
as the wet laurels,
white, before your feet
step on the mountain-slope,
before your fiery hand
lift up the mantle
covering flower and land,
as a man lifts,
O Hymen, from his bride,
(cowering with woman eyes,) the veil?
O Hymen lord, be kind.
poem by Hilda Doolittle
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Related quotes
Beauty Arise
Beauty arise, show forth thy glorious shining,
Thine eyes feed love, for them he standeth pining ;
Honor and youth attend to do their duty
To thee, their only sovereign, Beauty.
Beauty arise, whilst we, thy servants, sing
Io to Hymen, wedlock's jocund king.
Io to Hymen, Io, Io, sing ;
Of wedlock, love, and youth is Hymen king.
Beauty arise, Beauty arise, thy glorious lights display,
Whilst we sing Io, glad to see this day.
Io, Io, to Hymen, Io, Io, sing ;
Of wedlock, love, and youth is Hymen king.
poem by Thomas Dekker
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Poem 8
HArke how the Minstrels gin to shrill aloud,
Their merry Musick that resounds from far,
The pipe, the tabor, and the trembling Croud,
That well agree withouten breach or iar.
But most of all the Damzels doe delite,
When they their tymbrels smyte,
And thereunto doe daunce and carrol sweet,
That all the sences they doe rauish quite,
The whyles the boyes run vp and downe the street,
Crying aloud with strong confused noyce,
As if it were one voyce.
Hymen io Hymen, Hymen they do shout,
That euen to the heauens theyr shouting shrill
Doth reach, and all the firmament doth fill,
To which the people standing all about,
As in approuance doe thereto applaud
And loud aduance her laud,
And euermore they Hymen Hymen sing,
that al the woods them answer and theyr eccho ring.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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An Epithalamium
Fragments 91, 92, 99, 106, 104, 103, 100, 105, 101, 102, 96, 109, 93, 94, 97, 95, and 133 combined.
Raise high the beams of the raftered hall,
(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)
Ye builders, of the bridal-dwelling!
(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)
Lo, the bridegroom comes, as the War-god tall —
(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)
Now nay — yet our tallest in stature excelling;
(Sing the Hymen-refrain!)
For stately he towers above all the throng
As the Lesbian singer towers among
All alien poets, a prince of song.
O happy bridegroom! it cometh to-day,
The bridal thine heart hith longed for aye!
At last shall she be thine own, the maid
For whom thou hast sighed, for whom thou hast prayed.
For none other maiden beneath the skies,
O bridegroom, was like unto her in thine eyes.
Whereunto may I liken thee, bridegroom dear?
To a green vine-shoot in the spring of the year.
Now, now let the bridegroom rejoice, for the bride
Into the hall cometh joyful-eyed.
Ethereal-pale is her lovely face.
Hail, bridegroom! Hail, bride, queenly in grace!
How goodly to see thy lord stands there!
And his goodness will keep him for thee ever fair.
Ah, doth she, ah doth she regretfully brood? —
Does her heart still yearn after maidenhood?
Nay, not in this hour she cries:
'Maidenhood, maidenhood, whither away
Forsaking me?'
While maidenhood replies:
'Not again unto thee shall I come for aye,
Not again unto thee!'
No more, no more doth she chant
Proud young virginity's vaunt:
'As the sweet-apple flames on the tip of a spray against the sky,
At its uttermost point, which the gleaners forgat, and passed it by —
O nay, they forgat it not, but they could not attain so high.'
But she thinks of the fate, an evil thing,
That the years fast-fleeting to fair maids bring.
When the roses are faded, the gold turns grey.
And the smoothness is furrowed, as singeth the lay —
'As the hyacinth-flower on the mountain-side that the shepherds tread
Underfoot, and low on the earth its bloom dark-splendid is shed.'
Lo, her hand into thine hath her father given.
And thou leadest her home 'neath the Star of Even;
To thy portal the bridal-train draws near.
And the Chant Processional rings out clear:
'Hail, Hesper, who bringest home all
That radiant Dawn scattered wide,
Bringest back unto fold and stall
The sheep and the goat, and thy call
Brings the child to the mother's side.
Let the rose-ringed Star of the Evenfall
Usher thee on, love's willing thrall,
Bride, garden of loves like roses blowing.
Bride, loveliest image of Paphos' Queen!
So pass to the bride-bower, pass within
To the nuptial couch, for the sweet bestowing
On the bridegroom, whose measure is overflowing.
Of the bliss, wherein honoured is Hera: 'tis owned
Of the Marriage-goddess, the silver-throned.'
A Cypress-Bough, and A Rose-Wreath Sweet ( song )
Act IV, scene iii
A cypress-bough and a rose-wreath sweet,
A wedding robe, and a winding-sheet,
A bridal bed and a bier.
Thine be the kisses, maid,
And smiling Love's alarms;
And thou, pale youth, be laid
In the grave's cold arms.
Each in his own charms,
Death and Hymen both are here;
So up with scythe and torch,
And to the old church porch,
While all the bells ring clear:
And rosy, rosy the bed shall bloom,
And earthy, earthy heap up the tomb.
Now tremble dimples on your cheek,
Sweet be your lips to taste and speak,
For he who kisses is near:
For her the bride-groom fair,
In youthful power and force;
For him the grizard bare,
Pale knight on a pale horse,
To woo him to a corpse.
Death and Hymen both are here,
So up with scythe and torch,
And to the old church porch,
While all the bells ring clear:
And rosy, rosy the bed shall bloom,
And earthy, earthy heap up the tomb.
poem by Thomas Lovell Beddoes
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Child Syria
235 today
you will not stop
I hold something
you cannot take
child Syria runs through me
greed can take my arms, hymen, joy
shoot and rape me
terror lord you may try to tame me
I will live and leave you behind
Syria will score your anger
into history
you dare and tear me
my tears run in the river
of blood, spilling shame on
your family, your child will cry
rivers for the dry earth
hold my severed hand up
the victory is mine
now seen by all
my child soul rises
above this infant war
a white butterfly
poem by Sonja Broderick
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Once More Into the Fire
Once more into the fire, my Lord, once more into the fire
Another one calling to be saved, Lord, what shall I do?
Therefore to offer help I go once more into the fire
Once more into the fire, my Lord, once more into the fire
I can't save her with my own two hands, Lord, what shall I do?
To offer her your strong arms, Lord, once more into the fire
Once more into the fire, my Lord, once more into the fire
What of the others who won't call out, Lord, what shall I do?
Pray for them and call to them, Lord, once more into the fire
One last time into the fire, Lord, once more into the fire
I see You reaching now out to me, Lord, what shall I do?
Take your hand to climb out, Lord, nevermore into the fire
((April 6th,2005))
poem by Danny Speicher
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Morning Has Broken
like your well taken cared of
hymen.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Walking Through Fields Of Fire
I walk through fields of fire
With coals of fire beneath my feet
I sail through stormy waters
Guided by the mercy seat
The brimstones shortly coming
You must flee now from the wrath
For fire falls down from heaven
Yet I am guided by His staff
The narrow path through valleys dark
Leads onward to the hill
And all around the mountains fall
But our Lord says ' be still.'
Come higher now ascend the hill
My God atop He stands
And looks to see the pure in heart
To see those with clean hands
Who is this King lift up your head
And sing with all your might
The King of Glory is His name
His light defeats the night
He is God's Son, the Holy One
He puts and end to death and sin
Fall to your knees, lift up your hands
And the King of Glory shall come in!
poem by Frank McEleny
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Chorus of Youths and Virgins
Semichorus.
Oh Tyrant Love! hast thou possest
The prudent, learn'd, and virtuous breast?
Wisdom and wit in vain reclaim,
And Arts but soften us to feel thy flame.
Love, soft intruder, enters here,
But ent'ring learns to be sincere.
Marcus with blushes owns he loves,
And Brutus tenderly reproves.
Why, Virtue, dost thou blame desire,
Which Nature has imprest?
Why, Nature, dost thou soonest fire
The mild and gen'rous breast?
Chorus.
Love's purer flames the Gods approve;
The Gods and Brutus bent to love:
Brutus for absent Portia sighs,
And sterner Cassius melts at Junia's eyes.
What is loose love? a transient gust,
Spent in a sudden storm of lust,
A vapour fed from wild desire,
A wand'ring, self-consuming fire,
But Hymen's kinder flames unite;
And burn for ever one;
Chaste as cold Cynthia's virgin light,
Productive as the Sun.
Semichorus.
Oh source of ev'ry social tie,
United wish, and mutual joy!
What various joys on one attend,
As son, as father, brother husband, friend?
Whether his hoary sire he spies,
While thousand grateful thoughts arise;
Or meets his spouse's fonder eye;
Or views his smiling progeny;
What tender passions take their turns,
What home-felt raptures move?
His heart now melts, now leaps, now burns,
With rev'rence, hope, and love.
Chorus.
Hence guilty joys, distastes, surmises,
Hence false tears, deceits, disguises,
Dangers, doubts, delays, surprises;
Fires that scorch, yet dare not shine
Purest love's unwasting treasure,
Constant faith, fair hope, long leisure,
Days of ease, and nights of pleasure;
Sacred Hymen! these are thine.
poem by Alexander Pope
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L'Ancien Regime
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king,
Our king all kings above?
A young girl brought him love;
And he dowered her with shame,
With a sort of infamous fame,
And then with lonely years
Of penance and bitter tears --
Love is scarcely the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A statesman brought him planned
Justice for all the land;
And he in recompense got
Fierce struggle with brigue and plot,
Then a fall from lofty place
Into exile and disgrace --
Justice is never the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A writer brought him truth;
And first he imprisoned the youth,
And then he bestowed a free pyre
That the works might have plenty of fire,
And also to cure the pain
Of the headache called thought in the brain --
Truth is a very bad thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
The people brought their sure
Loyalty fervid and pure;
And he gave them bountiful spoil
Of taxes and hunger and toil,
Ignorance, brutish plight,
And wholesale slaughter in fight --
Loyalty's quite the worst thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A courtier brought to his feet
Servility graceful and sweet,
With an ever ready smile
And an ever supple guile;
And he got in reward the place
Of the statesman in disgrace --
Servility's always a thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A soldier brought him war,
La gloire, la victoire,
Ravage and carnage and groans,
For the pious Te Deum tones;
And he got in return for himself
Rank and honors and pelf --
War is a very fine thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A harlot brought him her flesh,
Her lusts, and the manifold mesh
Of her wiles intervolved with caprice;
And he gave her his realm to fleece,
To corrupt, to ruin, and gave
Himself for her toy and her slave
Harlotry's just the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king,
Our king who fears to die?
A priest brought him a lie,
The blackness of hell uprolled
In heaven's shining gold;
And he got as guerdon for that
A see and a cardinal's hat --
A lie is an excellent thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Has any one yet a thing
For a gift to our lord the king?
The country gave him a tomb,
A magnificent sleeping-room;
And for this it obtained some rest,
Clear riddance of many a pest,
And a hope which it much enjoyed
That the throne would continue void --
A tomb is the very best thing
For a gift to our lord the king.
poem by James Thomson
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Lord, You have my heart
Lord, you have my heart
Wash it clean
Lord, you have my heart
In Me
Lord, you have my heart
Let walk together
Lord, you have my heart
It your forever
You are my friend
Who died for me
You are my king
A king who set me free
Lord, I give You my heart
I am with you above the storm
You know my name
Even before I was born
Lord, you have my heart
Let the world know Your grace
Lord, you have my heart
Let everything fell into place
poem by Ryan Richards
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Psalm 150
Praise the Lord of the morning
When the sun rises from its sleep
Praise the Lord for His excellent greatness
For His beauty makes me weep
Praise the Lord when the darkness falls
And the moon rises high above
Praise the Lord for His majestic glory
And His everlasting love
Praise the Lord in the winter
When the snow falls on the ground
Praise the Lord for His glorious presence
When we stand upon holy ground
Praise the Lord of the summer
When the days are warm and long
Praise the Lord for His magnificent splendor
And the saints shall sing a new song
Praise the Lord of the springtime
When the blossoms on the tree
Praise the Lord for His holiness
And for the Blood that set us free
Praise the Lord of the Autumn
When the leaves fall to the ground
Praise the Lord for His faithfulness
And that His grace abounds
Praise the Lord when your happy
And there's a smile upon your face
Praise the Lord for His mercy
And for His saving grace
Praise the Lord when you're in despair
And your pierced by a fiery dart
Praise the Lord for HIs loving kindness
That restores your broken heart
Praise the Lord with your last breath
As you lie upon your bed
Praise the Lord for His promises
To raise you from the dead
Praise the Lord for all eternity
As you gather around His throne
Praise the Lord for His incredible beauty
As you worship Him alone
Let trumpet, harp and timbrel praise
And dance before the King
Let all with breath praise the Lord
And with their voices sing
Hallelujah to the King of Kings
We worship and bow down
We sing to you forever more
And we will crown Him with many crowns
poem by Frank McEleny
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Lovers Prayer
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Just wanna be with my love tonight
I dont want no jive artists calling me on the telephone
Dont wanna watch the carson show all alone
I just wanna lay back, take my rest
With the one I loves head resting on my chest
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Just wanna be with my love tonight
And I dont want my best friends even coming round
cos if they do I might put em down
Carsons over and the lights way down low
And all I got, I got a heart full of soul
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
I said, lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
I said, lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Just wanna be with my love tonight
And its a lovers prayer, oh yes it is
Takes a little time, takes a little care, yeah, yeah, yeah
And when it gets way on in the midnight hour
I just wanna play my guitar
I just wanna see you smile, touch your face
Be with you in my own place
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
I said, lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Just wanna be with my love tonight
Just wanna be with my love tonight
Just wanna be with my love tonight
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marriage Morn.
Fades the moonlight on the sea,
And the dawn is coming in —
What will this day bring for me,
This of all days, Evelyn?
Ah! to-day our hands we plight;
Life or death is in the vow;
All that earth knows of delight
Or of grief is round me now —
While the dawn-light limns the shore,
And thou in thy lonely sleep
Dream'st thy maiden dreams before
Hymen's mystery shall steep
Thy heart's fancies in mine own,
And the pulse of passion stir
With the esctasy that's known
Only to Love's worshipper.
poem by Robert Crawford
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The Interpreter
Mother of Light, and the Gods! Mother of Music, awake!
Silence and speech are at odds; Heaven and Hell are at
stake.
By the Rose and the Cross I conjure; I constrain by the
Snake and the Sword;
I am he that is sworn to endure -Bring us the word of the
Lord!
By the brood of the Bysses of Brightening, whose God was
my sire;
By the Lord of the Flame and Lightning, the King of
the Spirits of Fire;
By the Lord of the Waves and the Waters, the King of the
Hosts of the Sea,
The fairest of all of whose daughters was mother to me;
By the Lord of the Winds and the Breezes, the king of the
Spirits of Air,
In whose bosom the infinite ease is that cradled me there;
By the Lord of the Fields and the Mountains, the King of
the Spirits of Earth
That nurtured my life at his fountains from the hour of my
birth;
By the Wand and the Cup I conjure; by the Dagger and
Disk I constrain;
I am he that is sworn to endure; make thy music again!
I am Lord of the Star and the Seal; I am Lord of the Snake
and the Sword;
Reveal us the riddle, reveal! Bring us the word of the Lord!
As the flame of the sun, as the roar of the sea, as the storm
of the air,
As the quake of the earth -let it soar for a boon, for a bane,
for a snare,
For a lure, for a light, for a kiss, for a rod, for a scourge, for
a sword -
Bring us thy burden of bliss -Bring us the word of the
Lord!
PERDURABO.
poem by Aleister Crowley
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Oh Horny Night
Erotic parody of the Christmas classic, O Holy Night
Oh horny night
My lover's glow in the dark condom is brightly shining
It is the night of my first sweet orgasm's birth
Long do we plan to lay panting and lustfully moaning
Till the dawn appears
We will make the most of what this night's worth
A thrill of desire
Our sweaty bodies rejoice
For yonder breaks thru my hymen a new and glorious moaning
Oh how he adores
When before my man
I fall to my knees
Oh hear the rising of erotic voices
Oh on this night so divine
Oh on this night when a virgin's first orgasm is born
Oh with a man so very sexy and divine
Oh on this night, this night so very delicious and divine
Pantie lines my man shall break
So gentle and caring will be my lover
And in shouting out his name shall my fears shall cease
Sweet groans of joy together we'll share in greatful chorus as we
Explore intimate secrets inside and out
Moaning one another's names
Oh my lord!
Don't ever let him
Don't ever let him stop
Oh no oh no
All the sweet and tender things he is doing
On this night, oh on this night so delicious and divine
Oh no oh no
On this night, on this night so delicious and divine
Oh no oh no
On this night, on this night so delicious and divine
2008 Ramona Thompson
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Poetics 5....
'DEEP IN MY heart
i love you' this is the first song of the morning radio
the patio smells urine
the covering of the chamber pot is left open
the old man saves his urine
for ten days
you imagine nothing
i can see the blank wall again
nothing red like a rose
then you laugh so hard
the glass falls off from the sink
breaks its mouth on the
marble floor
you have a canvass of manila paper
and a black crayon and then
you draw a man with twenty tongues
and a very big mouth like
manila bay
you put their the name of the man
who broke your heart
fifty times
tore your being apart like a broken
hymen of your first love
you must have remembered your first scream
of that pain
and then you finally come to the conclusion
about that regret
not having feasted upon that pain again
that crazy man
he never asked you again for a date in that
fungal hotel
nosy bellboys
broken locks of the door
and greasy floors
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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~ Rupturing Hymen [A.K.A. Defloration] ~
Candle light oscillating
Luxing like amoeba
Silenced to actuate
Jus Primae Noctis
Poor just married Dona
Lying like log to
Endure engulf forced
Somatic n' psychic
Defloration harpooning
It's bonking by law. [Shame]
>>==========)) - ((^))
Mod day's scoundrels'
Anti-social virile DNA
Actively augmented by
Vile androgenic vaccine
As it's still necessary
For lustful male flocks
Law books read
Its rape unlawful [Odium]
>>==========)) - ((^))
Psychic and somatic
Hymen stay traumatized
Galvanized stigma
Guaranteed to Dona to
Bear blaster blister rest of life.
>>==========))) - ((^))
Has 21st century civilization
Progressed a pico centimeter
From maleficent medieval
Septicemic scenario?
>>==========)) - ((^))
What next __niv guesses
For sure atavistic retrograde
Evolution [read civilization] to
Medieval malevolency.
>>==========))) - ((^))
Hi men for hymen assault
niv spits on cruddy civilization
Hey all join in mass spitting
Kicking whapping bashing on
Twin balls [OO] of live carnal cadaver
As Poet Taslima Nasrin* did
On this de-civilized society
>>==========))) - ((^))
===
Glossary: Humbly given for what I tried to express: ~
[1] Jus Primae Noctis [Latin]: Right of first night [It refers to the medieval belief that the Lord of the manor had the right to have sex].
[2] Bonking: [Brit] Have sexual intercourse
[3] Odium: Hate coupled with disgust.
[4] Pico: One trillionth.
[5] Atavistic: Characteristic of an atavist [An organism that has the characteristics of a more primitive type of that organism].
[6] Cruddy: Characterized by obscenity.
[7] Whapping: Hit hard
[8] Carnal: Marked by the appetites and passions of the body.
~~~~~~~~
*Poet Taslima Nasrin: Exiled Female Poet from Bangladesh
+++
Copyright reserved by author.
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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The Furnace To The Flood
From the fiery furnace of life, we’re delivered by Jesus Christ.
When those fiery flames appear, our Lord God is always near,
There to lift us above that flame, all in the Power of His Name,
Protecting all of us from each fire, is our Lord’s heart’s desire.
As The Lord so desires to purify, in life’s fires, both you and I,
From a life of unrighteousness, fires allow iniquities to surface,
As we’re cleansed of old dross, In Christ’s power of The Cross,
To live for God and Jesus Christ, in our life as a living sacrifice.
When overwhelmed by a flood, we’re reminded of God’s Blood,
The Lord’s power at Calvary, continues in the life of you and me,
From the flood’s billowing waves, God reaches down and saves,
Saving us from the floods of life, is The Shepherd, Jesus Christ.
It is The Lord’s sustaining power, through any flood, any shower,
When the rains of life begin to pour, our Lord helps us to endure,
Holding us above the water’s flow, Christ desires to help us grow,
Through His Spirit dwelling inside, He’s with us in the highest tide.
Fires and floods, when they come, wherever in life, they are from,
Are used by God in this life, to conform believers to Jesus Christ,
Within the fire and the flood, we are molded by our Lord and God,
Being refined in the Image of Christ, to display The Lord in our life.
Love Is A Window Starlit Bright
Love is a window starlit bright
And you are the moon
That encompasses its light
Thriving like a winters flower
Visited in the mystical—night?
You are a forest of melting snow
And all that's pure and white
'You are that lover's song in echo'
Of what God made truly right.
Lord, oh lord
She kisses me still...
Prolonging each cold
-winters chill...
The thaw of passing...
Lord, oh lord
Its then she whispers!
Asks for the winds desires
In mine, burning...
Crackling... Ilex ears
Touch me not—just
In the next world:
And I'll like a feather rise
Like an attending angel
I'll kiss away all your tears
All your cries...
Lord, oh lord
Its then she whispers!
As and when the winter raps
Its winter cloak
Around your heart
I will be there to warm
And shelter you!
From the cold and the dark
As sure as the fire
That burns eternal in your heart.
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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