The Scourge of Villainy
In serious jest, and jesting seriousness,
I strive to scourge polluting beastliness;
I invocate no Delian deity,
No sacred offspring of Mnemosyne;
I pray in aid of no Castalian Muse,
No nymph, no female angel, to infuse
A sprightly wit to raise my flagging wings,
And teach me tune these harsh discordant strings.
I crave no sirens of our halcyon times,
To grace the accents of my rough-hew'd rhymes;
But grim Reproof, stern Hate of Villainy,
Inspire and guide a Satire's poesy.
Fair Detestation of foul odious sin,
In which our swinish times lie wallowing,
Be thou my conduct and my Genius,
My wits-inciting sweet-breath'd Zephyrus.
O that a Satire's hand had force to pluck
Some floodgate up, to purge the world from muck!
Would God I could turn Alpheus river in,
To purge this Augean oxstall from foul sin!
Well, I will try; awake, Impurity,
And view the veil drawn from thy villainy!
poem by John Marston
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Related quotes
Deity
You want a deity?
Come
Pickup a stone or wood log
Have some sindur
Have some flowers
Have some agarbati
Light wick
Deity formed.
Worship it.
Your deity is
Ready to give you
What you want.
Pray before the deity
With heart and soul.
The deity never
Try to and never
Done anything
That would put loss.
It is you to decide
How far you believe
On your deity
How far you have
Trust on Him.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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A Prayer unto Christ
The Judge Of The World
O Dearest Dread, most glorious King,
I'le of thy justest Judgements sing:
So thou my head and heart inspire,
To Sing aright, as I desire.
Thee, thee alone I'le invocate,
For I do much abominate
To call the Muses to mine aid:
Which is th' Unchristian use, and trade
Of some that Christians would be thought,
And yet they worship worse then nought.
Oh! what a deal of Blasphemy,
And Heathenish Impiety,
In Christian Poets may be found,
Where Heathen gods with praise are Crown'd,
They make Jehovah to stand by,
Till Juno, Venus, Mercury,
With frowning Mars, and thundering Jove
Rule Earth below, and Heaven above.
But I have learnt to pray to none,
Save unto God in Christ alone.
Nor will I laud, no, not in jest,
That which I know God doth detest.
I reckon it a damning evil
To give Gods Praises to the Devil.
Thou, Christ, art he to whom I pray,
Thy Glory fain I would display.
Oh! guide me by thy sacred Sprite
So to indite, and so to write,
That I thine holy Name may praise,
And teach the Sons of men thy wayes.
poem by Michael Wigglesworth
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Deity
Eyes open
Empty as halos
He comes for me
Deity
Help- whats the matter?
Looking for someone?
He comforts me
Deity
Resurrection
Coming in stereo
If you say so
He comes for me
Lets pray
To tv divinity
He covets me
Deity
Resurrection
Coming in stereo
If you say so
Deity
Resurrection
Coming in stereo
If you say so
song performed by by Ministry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 38:
How can my muse want subject to invent,
While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
O! give thy self the thanks, if aught in me
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight;
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thy self dost give invention light?
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
Than those old nine which rhymers invocate;
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
If my slight muse do please these curious days,
The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
poem by William Shakespeare
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The Nine Muses So Rapturous
The Lady Muses, nine thou be
Comely, wise, I see such beauty, thine
Daughters of Mnemosyne`s Shrine
Titaness of Memory, Daughters of Gaea
I, aspiring lyrist, thence
See erudite doxies, to accost
Inquire I, without them lost
They requite my homage with their prescience
Calliope, poetess of eloquence and epic
Clio, Muse of history
Erato, composer of lyric poetry
Euterpe, dearest Muse of lyre and music
Melpomene, writes of tragedy
Polyhymnia, sings Her songs so sacred
Terpsichore, of song and dance, well led
Thalia, playwright of the comedy, Urania of Astronomy
Oblations of Flowers, I besprent
To dear Muses, at Pieria born
In revery, Moonlight fades in morn
Yet ne`er The Wisdom, they hath sent
poem by Steve Trimmer
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Upon The Altar Of My Lord
I offer my words up freely,
upon the altar of my God.
I come to this sacred place freely,
of my own free will to serve to pray.
This ancient sacred place this land,
this holy sacred God given ground;
is where in my humble veneration,
in worship I lay my offering down.
I have nothing more; to humbly offer pray.
I have while materially poor nothing more,
than time of value worth to humbly offer pray;
this is all I have I here in true worship bore,
I offer before my most high my sacred Lord.
Near on thirty years ago, I made this sacred vow,
with my soul heart head, bowed in breath low;
though my flesh remains, be still struggle weak,
this vow before God in worship I honour keep.
I thank my wondrous Lord, who let me humbly come here pray.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sonnet 38: How can my Muse want subject to invent
How can my Muse want subject to invent
While thou dost breathe, that pour'st into my verse
Thine own sweet argument, too excellent
For every vulgar paper to rehearse?
O, give thyself the thanks, if aught in me
Worthy perusal stand against thy sight,
For who's so dumb that cannot write to thee,
When thou thyself dost give invention light?
Be thou the tenth Muse, ten times more in worth
Than those old nine which rhymers invocate;
And he that calls on thee, let him bring forth
Eternal numbers to outlive long date.
If my slight Muse do please these curious days,
The pain be mine, but thine shall be the praise.
poem by William Shakespeare
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A poets dream
Hippocrene (hĭ p'ə -kren‘) is a fountain on Mount Helicon, Greece, sacred to the Muses and regarded as a source of poetic inspiration.
Mnemosyne (nemoz'ini) is a titan who is the personification of remembrance. She is the mother of the nine muses: “All nine muses have a science or an art to protect. Cleo protects the stories of heroes, Urania astronomy, Calliope elegies, Melpomene the tragedies, Euterpe flute playing, Erato love poems, Tepsicore choir lyrics, Thalia the comedies and Polyhymnia dance and music.”
“The Muses love to sing and dance. They are superior in musical competitions and any one who dares to challenge them will always fall short, just as those who question their importance.”
In a dream I drink from fount Hippocrene.
The daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne
Encompass me while I quench. Nine muses
Guarding their arts from human abuses.
'I'm not here to challenge or to question;
Nor I seek material possessions.
My presence among you in this dreamy
State is caused by my love of poetry.
And you, Erato, muse of all love poems
I'm a sleepy poet asleep at home.
It's known by some you sing beautifully.
Would all you muses’ sing a song for me?
My thirst is quenched from draft of drinking cup.
Please! Please sing for me before I wake up.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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How Can I Give That
Thank you for helping me,
Protect my steps.
Happy I am that my seriousness,
Has convinced you...
My footprints made,
Were placed in a direction...
To be respected as I thought,
You too wanted kept.
And now that I know,
My best efforts...
You prove you wish not to neglect,
I am happy you now see...
It is about maintaining one's integrity.
And IF you express a giving of this to me...
I have nothing but that,
From me to you to show I can and will do.
You deserve the best.
But how can I give that,
If you take for granted my seriousness?
And my seriousness to deliver...
You should always expect.
In fact...
I would not mind if you demanded it.
Since this will tell me our feelings are mutual.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Mother and Earth By Vavroovahana Patra
Earth exists with mother;
She is entire universe's operator.
Is all creatures' life;
Chanting hymns evaporate grief.
Mother shows the light's path;
In our hearts provides mirth.
Mother is everywhere;
Is the Deity of Nature.
Mother provides us duty;
Through duty provides delight.
I like mother gaily;
Pray devotionally.
I behold mother everywhere;
She is the Deity of Nature.
Pray daily;
Derive peace gaily.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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To Austin Dobson
Yes! urban is your Muse, and owns
An empire based on London stones;
Yet flow'rs, as mountain violets sweet,
Spring from the pavement 'neath her feet.
Of wilder birth this Muse of mine,
Hill-cradled, and baptized with brine;
And 'tis for her a sweet despair
To watch that courtly step and air!
Yet surely she, without reproof,
Greeting may send from realms aloof,
And even claim a tie in blood,
And dare to deem it sisterhood.
For well we know, those Maidens be
All daughters of Mnemosyne;
And 'neath the unifying sun,
Many the songs-but Song is one.
poem by William Watson
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Each one somehow thrives.
Each deity has some devotees,
Some of whom might be well off,
and ascribe their getting fortunes
To the grace of that deity and feed it.
So every deity is fed; so is the priest
18.01.2003, Ariakkudi.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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How Do I Pray?
Pray, pray
How do I pray?
Usually at the
end of my day.
Pray, pray
For what do I pray?
I pray for peace
in everyone's day.
Pray, pray
To whom do I pray?
To my soul giver
that's not far away.
Pray, pray
Why do I pray?
For if there's a heaven
maybe someday
The praying was worth it
and then I'll know
where those that don't pray
will have to stay.
And pray and pray
and pray all day.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Prelude
I have eaten your bread and salt.
I have drunk your water and wine.
In deaths ye died I have watched beside,
And the lives ye led were mine.
Was there aught that I did not share
In vigil or toil or ease, --
One joy or woe that I did not know,
Dear hearts across the seas?
I have written the tale of our life
For a sheltered people's mirth,
In jesting guise -- but ye are wise,
And ye know what the jest is worth.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Water Nymph (Fantasy Poem)
Water Nymph come swim with me,
in the deepest valleys of the sea.
Swim through the eddies,
flirt with the sea ladies.
Many treasures here for you and me.
sirens of the sea waving happily.
Water nymph, water nymph,
did you see, they waved at me.
Come water nymph come swim with me.
Enjoy the vastness of the deep blue sea.
There are sea monkeys, sirens, mermaids and more.
Maybe we can take some treasures back to shore.
Oh cmon water nymph, don’t be shy.
Come swim with me, watch the boats sail by.
(July 1,2007)
poem by Melvina Germain
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Epilogue To Tancred And Sigismunda
Cramm'd to the throat with wholesome moral stuff,
Alas! poor audience! you have had enough.
Was ever hapless heroine of a play
In such a piteous plight as ours to-day?
Was ever woman so by love betray'd?
Match'd with two husbands, and yet—die a maid.
But bless me!—hold—What sounds are these I hear!—
I see the Tragic Muse herself appear.
[The back scene opens, and discovers a romantic sylvan landscape; from which Mrs. Cibber, in the character of the Tragic Muse, advances slowly to music, and speaks the following lines]:
Hence with your flippant epilogue, that tries
To wipe the virtuous tear from British eyes;
That dares my moral, tragic scene profane,
With strains—at best, unsuiting, light and vain.
Hence from the pure unsullied beams that play
In yon fair eyes where virtue shines—Away!
Britons, to you from chaste Castalian groves,
Where dwell the tender, oft unhappy loves!
Where shades of heroes roam, each mighty name,
And court my aid to rise again to fame;
To you I come, to Freedom's noblest seat,
And in Britannia fix my last retreat.
In Greece and Rome, I watch'd the public weal,
The purple tyrant trembled at my steel:
Nor did I less o'er private sorrows reign,
And mend the melting heart with softer pain.
On France and you then rose my brightening star,
With social ray—The arts are ne'er at war.
O, as your fire and genius stronger blaze,
As yours are generous Freedom's bolder lays,
Let not the Gallic taste leave yours behind,
In decent manners and in life refined;
Banish the motley mode to tag low verse,
The laughing ballad to the mournful hearse.
When through five acts your hearts have learnt to glow,
Touch'd with the sacred force of honest woe;
O keep the dear impression on your breast,
Nor idly loose it for a wretched jest.
poem by James Thomson
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Nothing We Say Or Do Goes Unheard
Pray to ask for clarity to come.
Be thankful in your doing of this,
Since nothing that we say or do...
Goes unheard to be dismissed.
Humanity is not an accident,
That has occurred upon this planet Earth.
With a purpose that has meaning...
We are here to accomplish tasks.
Some have not asked to define,
The taste of their assigned flavors.
And often have found that following,
The scent of what has been presented...
Has resulted in their resentment.
Pray to ask for clarity to come.
Be thankful in your doing of this,
Since nothing that we say or do...
Goes unheard to be dismissed.
And ignoring the seriousness of a mission,
Increases the self infliction of conflict.
Pray...
And all will be revealed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sometimes I Pray
Sometimes I pray before I sleep;
Sometimes I pray, the lord; my soul to keep,
Sometimes I pray.....
Sometimes I pray in the morning;
Sometimes I pray for those in mourning,
Sometimes I pray.....
Sometimes I pray for rain;
Sometimes I pray for nomore pain,
Sometimes I pray.....
Sometimes I pray before i eat;
Sometimes I pray for good bread and meat,
Sometimes I pray.....
Sometimes I pray, my baby; that you'll stay;
But only sometimes for these things do I pray,
For I talk to my Lord everyday...
poem by Nkululeko Mdudu
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A Petition
To spring belongs the violet, and the blown
Spice of the roses let the summer own.
Grant me this favor, Muse--all else withhold--
That I may not write verse when I am old.
And yet I pray you, Muse, delay the time!
Be not too ready to deny me rhyme;
And when the hour strikes, as it must, dear Muse,
I beg you very gently break the news.
poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
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Chapter 27
Smaller and softer,
And like a trip to the sky;
But the flood waters came onto the earth! !
However, strive to make the best out of yourself.
Family matters,
And like a trip to the moon;
But stay away from the windows because of the gunfire! !
And, strive to be a responsible person in life.
Chapter 27,
And like a trip to the stars! !
But iam one among you people,
And i was boen of a man and a woman in the land of your muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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