Two Sonnets. To Haydon, With A Sonnet Written On Seeing The Elgin Marbles
I.
Haydon! forgive me that I cannot speak
Definitively of these mighty things;
Forgive me, that I have not eagle's wings,
That what I want I know not where to seek,
And think that I would not be over-meek,
In rolling out upfollowed thunderings,
Even to the steep of Heliconian springs,
Were I of ample strength for such a freak.
Think, too, that all these numbers should be thine;
Whose else? In this who touch thy vesture's hem?
For, when men stared at what was most divine
With brainless idiotism and o'erwise phlegm,
Thou hadst beheld the full Hesperian shine
Of their star in the east, and gone to worship them.
II. On Seeing The Elgin Marbles.
My spirit is too weak - mortality
Weighs heavily upon me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagined pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship tells me I must die
Like a sick eagle looking at the sky.
Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep,
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-conceived glories of the brain
Bring round the heart an undescribable feud;
So do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old Time -- with a billowy main --
A sun -- a shadow of a magnitude.
poem by John Keats
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To Haydon
Haydon! forgive me that I cannot speak
Definitively of these mighty things;
Forgive me, that I have not eagle's wings,
That what I want I know not where to seek,
And think that I would not be over-meek,
In rolling out upfollowed thunderings,
Even to the steep of Heliconian springs,
Were I of ample strength for such a freak.
Think, too, that all these numbers should be thine;
Whose else? In this who touch thy vesture's hem?
For, when men stared at what was most divine
With brainless idiotism and o'erwise phlegm,
Thou hadst beheld the full Hesperian shine
Of their star in the east, and gone to worship them!
poem by John Keats
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On Seeing the Elgin Marbles for the First Time
My spirit is too weak; mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagined pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship tells me I must die
Like a sick eagle looking at the sky.
Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep,
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-conceived glories of the brain
Bring round the heart an indescribable feud;
So do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old Time -with a billowy main,
A sun, a shadow of a magnitude.
poem by John Keats
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Late summer evening
Late summer evening, the sun went down in gore and stream
At orange dusk hue, the hot and feverish night succeeded
There was a windless calm, a dismal pause the succumb world greeted
The moon showed, the splendor of clearance, and deadlier gleam
Sitting on a porch under the night dark stark pall
Life weaken like the flame in a waning torch, a gripping stall
The moon climbed in sloth through the dilated orbit
Her ridged face scared, her surface uneven and morbid
My spirit grew fragile, weak and withdrawn; the ever mortality
Of all creatures of this amazing world, and adversity
Weighed heavily on me like unwilling, unwelcome sleep
Hovering like an ominous shadow; breathless feeling engraved inside me so deep
And each imagined spiritual pinnacle and steep
Of godlike hardship and religion tell me I must perish and die
Like a sick wounded sinking eagle plunging from the sky.
Yet this is a gentle luxury in me to sadden and to weep,
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep insane
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-conceived glories of the mortal brain
Bring round the heart an indescribable feud and inner cry
So do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles human grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old time -with a surging main,
A sun, a shadow of an awesome reverence and magnitude.
Glory and loveliness have passed from my life away
For if I wander out in early morning towards the glorious East
The blemished splendor, the incomplete happiness encounter my way
A feeling of estranged departure; being taken; un belonging deprived of rest
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Forgive me Love
Forgive me love that I cannot speak
On these mighty, between the two of us things
Forgive me that I have not the lion courage nor the eagle's wing
That what I want to be, I know not where and how to seek
And to think that I was not over meek
In rolling out rants and raves up followed thundering's
Even to the steep of haughty in vanity of springs
Were I so of ample strength to bestow on you such freak
If I could only see what in me had not created gentler observation
For the presents and your divine presence that I was blest from you
And our walks along bright golden sands of the vast ocean
Which the emerald wavelets at your feet gladly threw
Who can bring back the nights we loved on a fair summer eve
Just before streams of waning dusk poured down from the vermilion West
And on the balmy wind tranquil rest
The silver clouds, like old clan were far away to leave
All in meaner young careless thoughts, and take sweet reprieve
From your laughs and your wantonness and find with easy quest
This moment of eternal fragrant wild wrapped with nature's beauty driest
Such a pure and holy precious delight with its mortality my soul deceive
Forgive me love if you can
Now in gray autumn leaning on my wooden cane
I saw and I failed in existence for you and me
What I wanted and yearned for you to be
(2010)
Stay Away Foul Death!
Stay away most foul and vile death
My heart and soul still beat in vigor of breath
Stop flipping so rapidly in my pages of years
My time is still far from mourning and tears
Yet my spirit becomes too fragile and weak
Your imposing mortality worse than the sharpest beak
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling, unwelcome sleep
And each imagined thing of pinnacle and steep
Of Godlike hardship or hell conclude my final bed
Must I like all creatures of this world be ultimately dead!
And how can I ever bid these joys of the world farewell?
Never, I must take them with me to a nobler life,
Where I may find great agonies and heroic strife
Of the human hearts, sages of all past ages with glorious rebel
And how do you imagine my final voyage to land so far?
Over sailing the blue cragginess, a car
And sinew steeds with stream manes, and a charioteer
Guiding out upon the winds with glorious fear
And then the chariot numerous trampling quiver lightly
Along a huge white cloud's ridge; and then with sprightly
Wheel downward we come into fresher skies
Tipped round with silver haze from the sun bright eyes
I have seen many scenes of hill side grave yard
And none I found fit for my final depart
The town around the streets and the setting sun
The clouds, the trees, the rounded hills all seem
Though beautiful, cold, strange macabre as in a dire dream
The haunted clustered spirits of the dead in their nightly dance begun
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Eagle night
Eagle night and seen by sea
A distant call, in sonnet key
In any moment, place or time
A distant call is sent from high
Eagle night, i swear I’ve sawn
Eagle flight with salty winds
By the pinnacle of water and land
Where sea winds crash and struggle the sand
Call again, from a place that’s near
Always close, so one can hear
Or so can be thought the truth of such things
Resonate from eagle wings
Never foreboding the loss of a call
Never shorn for a sighting once more
The discontent of the mind is evaded
And all the wanting of life unladen
The call, one call, one sight, any wind
Reminds the heart of the sweetest thing
Deep remnants of a time unkempt
And narrowing from this lively nest
Illusioned by dreams of taste and touch
But grasped in song by night eagle clutch
poem by Julia Grandi
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The Wounded Eagle
Eagle! this is not thy sphere!
Warrior-bird, what seek'st thou here?
Wherefore by the fountain's brink
Doth thy royal pinion sink?
Wherefore on the violet's bed
Lay'st thou thus thy drooping head?
Thou that hold'st the blast in scorn,
Thou that wear'st the wings of mourn.
Eagle! wilt thou not arise?
Look upon thine own bright skies!
Lift thy glance! the fiery sun
There his pride pf place has won,
And the mountain lark is there,
And sweet sound hath fill'd the air:
Hast thou left that realm on high?
-Oh, it can be but to die!
Eagle! Eagle! thou hast bowed
From thine empire o'er the cloud!
Thou that hadst ethereal birth,
Thou hast stoop'd too near the earth,
And the hunter's shaft hath found thee,
And the toils of death have bound thee,
Wherefore didst thou leave thy place,
Creature of a kingly race?
Wert thou weary of thy throne?
Was the sky's dominion lone?
Chill and lone it well might be,
Yet that mighty wing was free!
Now the chain is o'er thee cast:
From thy heart the blood flows fast,
Woe for gifted souls and high!
Is not such their destiny?
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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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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Forgive me
Forgive me
As I forgive thee
I know you are heart broken
But still you can forgive
I made you look smart
Without knowing you are full of hate
As the phrase says forgive and forget
If you don't do so, one day you'll regret
What goes round comes round
Remember this life is irrelevant
And you already know that
The blessings are those you receive
But still can't forgive
I know that I was wrong
Even though am very strong
But I can't show you my strength
But only to tell you the truth
poem by Gomez Banda
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Psalm 89 part 2
v.7ff
C. M.
The power and majesty of God; or, Reverential worship.
With rev'rence let the saints appear,
And bow before the Lord;
His high commands with rev'rence hear,
And tremble at his word.
How terrible thy glories be!
How bright thine armies shine!
Where is the power that vies with thee,
Or truth compared to thine?
The northern pole and southern rest
On thy supporting hand;
Darkness and day, from east to west,
Move round at thy command.
Thy words the raging winds control,
And rule the boist'rous deep;
Thou mak'st the sleeping billows roll,
The rolling billows sleep.
Heav'n, earth, and air, and sea, are thine,
And the dark world of hell;
How did thine arm in vengeance shine
When Egypt durst rebel!
Justice and judgment are thy throne,
Yet wondrous is thy grace;
While truth and mercy, joined in one,
Invite us near thy face.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Forgive My Heart
Nat king cole
Capitol record
Forgive my heart
My foolish heart it wont believe were through
Forgive my heart
Youre still a part of everything I do
Forgive my lips
If now and then
They speak your name
If you are still
My only thrill
Am I to blame
Forgive my dreams
In all my dreams it seems your face appears
Forgive my eyes
I realize Im only wasting tears
Dont know why you haunt me
But you do
Forgive my heart
Im still in love with you
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bloody Luxury
(coverdale)
Now when I first met you
I was rolling along,
Just a bar room crooner
Singing heartbreak songs,
An I supposed I could never get next to you
But, you seemed quite happy with my company
You kept my body heat steady at 103,
With your mouth full of gimme
An your body full of much obliged
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Youre a five star woman,
An you know what to give
To fill a part time loser
Full of reasons to live,
But, theres no doubt about it
Im taking a chance on you
Becos you get my heart beating heavy,
Make my knees go weak
You get me so damn nervous
I can hardly speak,
But, nothings gonna stop me
Hanging on my good luck charm
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To J. D. H.
(Killed at Surrey C. H., October, 1866.)
. . . . .
Dear friend, forgive a wild lament
Insanely following thy flight.
I would not cumber thine ascent
Nor drag thee back into the night;
But the great sea-winds sigh with me,
The fair-faced stars seem wrinkled, old,
And I would that I might lie with thee
There in the grave so cold, so cold!
Grave walls are thick, I cannot see thee,
And the round skies are far and steep;
A-wild to quaff some cup of Lethe,
Pain is proud and scorns to weep.
My heart breaks if it cling about thee,
And still breaks, if far from thine.
O drear, drear death, to live without thee,
O sad life -- to keep thee mine.
. . . . .
poem by Sidney Lanier
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And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low?
And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so--
I would not give that bosom pain.
My heart is sad, my hopes are gone,
My blood runs coldly through my breast;
And when I perish, thou alone
Wilt sigh above my place of rest.
And yet, methinks, a gleam of peace
Doth through my cloud of anguish shine:
And for a while my sorrows cease,
To know thy heart hath felt for mine.
Oh lady! blessd be that tear--
It falls for one who cannot weep;
Such precious drops are doubly dear
To those whose eyes no tear may steep.
Sweet lady! once my heart was warm
With every feeling soft as thine;
But Beauty's self hath ceased to charm
A wretch created to repine.
Yet wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so--
I would not give that bosom pain.
And Wilt Thou Weep When I Am Low
And wilt thou weep when I am low?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so---
I would not give that bosom pain.
My heart is sad, my hopes are gone,
My blood runs coldly through my breast;
And when I perish, thou alone
Wilt sigh above my place of rest.
And yet, methinks, a gleam of peace
Doth through my cloud of anguish shine:
And for a while my sorrows cease,
To know thy heart hath felt for mine.
Oh lady! blessd be that tear---
It falls for one who cannot weep;
Such precious drops are doubly dear
To those whose eyes no tear may steep.
Sweet lady! once my heart was warm
With every feeling soft as thine;
But Beauty's self hath ceased to charm
A wretch created to repine.
Yet wilt thou weep when I am low ?
Sweet lady! speak those words again:
Yet if they grieve thee, say not so---
I would not give that bosom pain.
poem by Byron (1808)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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After Looking into Carlyles Reminiscences
I.
THREE MEN lived yet when this dead man was young
Whose names and words endure for ever one:
Whose eyes grew dim with straining toward the sun,
And his wings weakened, and his angel’s tongue
Lost half the sweetest song was ever sung,
But like the strain half uttered earth hears none,
Nor shall man hear till all men’s songs are done:
One whose clear spirit like an eagle hung
Between the mountains hallowed by his love
And the sky stainless as his soul above:
And one the sweetest heart that ever spake
The brightest words wherein sweet wisdom smiled.
These deathless names by this dead snake denied
Bid memory spit upon him for their sake.
II.
Sweet heart, forgive me for thine own sweet sake,
Whose kind blithe soul such seas of sorrow swam,
And for my love’s sake, powerless as I am
For love to praise thee, or like thee to make
Music of mirth where hearts less pure would break,
Less pure than thine, our life-unspotted Lamb.
Things hatefullest thou hadst not heart to damn,
Nor wouldst have set thine heel on this dead snake.
Let worms consume its memory with its tongue,
The fang that stabbed fair Truth, the lip that stung
Men’s memories uncorroded with its breath.
Forgive me, that with bitter words like his
I mix the gentlest English name that is,
The tenderest held of all that know not death.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Forgive Me
Every day I give you a reason to cry
'cause I see the hurt in your eyes
but stronger yet
I see the love that shines
help me learn to take on the nature of you
and love more than I accuse
and pardon others like you taught me to
Something happens inside my heart
Lord when I obey
something happens inside my heart
every time I pray
Forgive me
as I learned how to forgive
and reach out through the pain
and touch with hands of grace
forgive me
as I learn how to forgive
and reach out through my own pain
and touch with hands of grace
As you prayed for those who crucified you
"forgive they don't know what they do"
compassion reached out to a world confused
help me learn to bless those who persecute me
and pray for my enemies
and show them mercy like you've shown to me
'Cause something happens inside my heart
Lord when I obey
something happens inside my heart
every time I pray
Forgive me
as I learn how to forgive
the ones that broke my heart
the way I've broken yours
forgive me
as I learn how to forgive
and reach out through my own pain
and touch with hands of grace
Forgive me
song performed by by Donna Summer from Cats Without Claws
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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January The Eagle
January the Eagle
Waits up top a hill
It gazes down onto the snowy ground
Without making any sound,
People watch silent and still
As the months march round with clattering sound
Outside their window sills
The eagle tests its wings
Waiting for the song to ring,
Tired of testing, tired of resting,
It screams far and loud
It’s heard all around
Echoing around
The world fast,
As it waits to be freed from the past
It listens until the words are sung
Which are nice and crisp from the slip of a tongue,
January is one again
And new times are ready to begin
The sound will hear loud and clear
As round and beautiful as a sphere,
The sound of future, a light
As magic and wondrous as love at first sight,
Don’t be impatient to hear it
As the songs of future
Can be heard quite near it,
As life is replenished
The sound is heard
With triumphant words
As harsh weather meets nice nature,
A new era has begun,
The Eagle drops
Without a stop,
To soon recover with a turn
The eagle says I shall return,
Just like the month of January
Through rain and sleet
The eagle flies
Its' wings beat
In the cotton blotched sky,
Higher and higher it must fly
To see the sun shine proud
In the bright free sky
The Eagle’s heart of love
January’s white dove,
The Eagle’s talons of strength
January’s unforgiving length,
The Eagle’s wings that soar
Are January’s winds of roar,
The Eagle’s balding white
Reveals January’s loving light,
The Eagle’s eyes are quick and sharp
As January’s musical winter harp,
A bird of prey
A month of new way
January like an Eagle,
Both represent a time when hopes renewed
And long before reviewed,
An Eagle can fly stunningly high
Like spirit of America in tragic time,
As war comes to end a new hate will begin,
Why do we still fly?
Because there’s always the sky.
To dream a dream of peace
Brotherhood united to release
Even through wars of nature or man
The Eagle and the American people
Have something lethal
Freedom and spirit is the weapon of choice
For when bad wind blows
We’ll always fight back with a voice
Beware when the nest is stirred
Out flies the bird
When the eagles fly
Evil will die
For beware not to bother
Our god our father
Our way of living
And your hell-full sinning.
No god would ask for such hate
For it’s the beginning, it’s not too late
A nation torn by others aggression
Looks to support her people with passion
A new birth a waits,
A new lesson others hate,
Freedom and spirit united we stand
No unwanted force shall invade our land,
Sheltering wings of protection to provide
For a nation full of honor and pride,
January is the beginning
And the Eagle is the spirit of the living.
poem by Will David
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Confidence
Oppressed with sin and woe,
A burdened heart I bear,
Opposed by many a mighty foe:
But I will not despair.
With this polluted heart
I dare to come to Thee,
Holy and mighty as Thou art;
For Thou wilt pardon me.
I feel that I am weak,
And prone to every sin:
But Thou who giv'st to those who seek,
Wilt give me strength within.
Far as this earth may be
From yonder starry skies;
Remoter still am I from Thee:
Yet Thou wilt not despise.
I need not fear my foes,
I need not yield to care,
I need not sink beneath my woes:
For Thou wilt answer prayer.
In my Redeemer's name,
I give myself to Thee;
And all unworthy as I am
My God will cherish me.
O make me wholly Thine!
Thy love to me impart,
And let Thy holy spirit shine
For ever on my heart!
poem by Anne Brontë from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sonnet 40: Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all
Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all;
What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call;
All mine was thine, before thou hadst this more.
Then if for my love, thou my love receivest,
I cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest;
But yet be blamed, if thou thy self deceivest
By wilful taste of what thy self refusest.
I do forgive thy robbery, gentle thief,
Although thou steal thee all my poverty;
And yet love knows it is a greater grief
To bear love's wrong, than hate's known injury.
Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
Kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.
poem by William Shakespeare
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