Related quotes: Once 'mid group of native...

The Dispute

Once 'mid group of native mountains
Hot dispute arose,
Elbrus, angry, did with Kasbek
Argument propose.
'Now beware!' the hoary Elbrus,
Warning did exclaim--
'To enslave thee and enthrall thee
Is man's evil aim!
Smoking huts he will be building
On thy mountain side,
Loudly through thy clefts resounding
Ring his hatchet wide!
The swift swinging iron shovel
Breast of stone will part,
Of thy bronze and stone will rob thee--
Pierce thee to the heart.
Caravans, e'en now, are passing
Through thy rocks afar,
Where before the fogs were swimming--
And the Eagle Tsar.
Ah, mankind is bold and fearless!
Dreads no lifted hand,
Guard thee! populous and mighty
Is the morning land!'
'Threatens me the East?' then queried
Kasbek with disdain,
'There eight centuries already
Sleeping, man has lain.
See, in shadow the Grusine
Gloats in lustful greed,
On his many coloured raiment
Glints the winey bead!
Drugged with fumes of his nargileh,
Dreams the Mussulman--
By the fountains on his divan
Slumbers Teheran.
See! Jerusalem is lying
At his feet o'erthrown--
Deathly dumb and lifeless staring
As an earthly tomb.
And beyond the Nile is washing
O'er the burning steps
Of the Kingly mausoleums,
Yellow, shadowless.
In his tent, the hunt forgotten--
Now the Bedouin lies,
Sings the old ancestral legends,
Scans the starry skies.
See! far as the eye can venture,
All sleeps as before--
No, the threat of dreaming Orient
Frights me nevermore!'
'Laugh thou not too early, Kasbek,'
Elbrus did persist--
'Look! What vast mass is it turning
Northward, through the mist?'
Secretly the heart of Kasbek
Faltered,--as amazed,
Silent and with dark foreboding
To the North he gazed:
Full of woe stared in the distance;
What a thronging swarm!
Hark! there rings the clash of weapons!
Battle-cry alarm!
From the Don unto the Ural
What a human sea!
Regiments that wave and glitter
Past all counting be!
Feathers white like sedge of ocean,
Waving in a gust--
Many coloured Uhlans storming
Through the blowing dust.
The imperial battalions
Densely packed proceed,
Trumpets flaring, banners flying
In the victor's lead.
Batteries with brasses rattling
Conquering advance,
With their blood-red splendor flashing
Cannon matches glance.
And a battle-proved commander
Leads the army there--
From whose eyes the lightning flashes,
'Neath his snowy hair.
Swells the host until as Griesbach's
Billows roaring loud,
From the Eastward nears the army
As a thunder cloud.
Kasbek peered with sinister boding
Through the clouds,--would fain
Count his enemies approaching--
Found it was in vain:
Threw one glance unto the mountains--
Anguished, overcome,
O'er his brow drew close the vapours,
Was forever dumb.

poem by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Related quotes

To Kasbek

With winged footsteps now I hasten
Unto the far cold North away,
Kasbek,--thou watchman of the East,
To thee, my farewell greetings say!

Since all eternity, a turban
Snow white, thy glorious brow has veiled,
The peace sublime about thy glacier
The strife of man has ne'er assailed.

Accept my humble supplication,
Hear thy submissive faithful son,
To starry heights lift his entreaty
To Allah's everlasting throne.

I do implore--spice breathing coolness
Through sultry sun-glow in the vale,
A stone for rest unto the pilgrim
In whirling dust of desert gale.

Turn, I implore, the storm's hot hatred,
The deadly thunderous lightning's course--
In Dariel's wild pass protect me
And my distracted, trembling horse.

Yet one prayer more my heart audacious,
Weeping, lifts up in bodeful stress,
What if my native land forget me
In my sad exile's loneliness?

Will, greeting me by name familiar,
My friend then open wide his arms?
Will e'en my brothers recognise me,
So changed by many griefs and harms?

Perchance my foot will fall profaning
Dust of those loved in youth's far day,
The pure and noble, deeply trusted--
Withered as Autumn leaves in May.

O Kasbek, then with earth o'erwhelm me!
Snow o'er thy weary wanderer back,
And blow away my dust and scatter
Along thy rock-ridged clefts lone track!

poem by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Gift Of The Terek

Through the rocks in wildest courses
Seethes the Terek grim of mood,
Tempest howling its bewailing,
Pearled with foam its tearful flood.

At the mountain's feet soft streaming,
Gentler grown its murmurs be,
And with greeting full of fawning
Speaks to the Caspian Sea:

'Hospitable part thy billows,
Give me room, oh Ocean grave!
From a distance drawing thither--
Scarce my weary currents wave.

Born upon the edge of Kasbek,
By the breast of clouds renewed,
Hatred have I sworn to mankind,
Who with us, the free, make feud.

See, by rage of my own fury
Lies despoiled my Darjal home,
And as playthings for thy children,
Pebbles bearing now I come.'

Yet upon her strands a'dreaming,
Mute the grey Sea did remain,
And the Terek, silver foaming,
Spoke caressingly again.

'Grey Sea I would serve thee only,
Have a present borne to-day--
See, 'tis a young Carabineer
Who has fallen in the fray.

How his coat of mail is gleaming
Silver on the billows' span!
Golden on his trappings shining
Blessing of the Alcoran!

Menacing the one who slew him
Scowls the brow's relentless feud,
By his noble life blood crimsoned
O'er his lips his hair is glued.

Through the half-closed eyelids glancing
Still the lust of quarrel mocks,
From his head deep underneath him
Flow the matted raven locks.'

Motionless upon her beaches
Did the grey Sea still remain,
And the Terek foaming yellow
In displeasure spoke again.

'So then, take him as a present,
As I nothing fairer know
On this round earth,--for thee only
This rare prize I've guarded so!

'Tis a mountain Cossack's body
Wafted 'mid my billows' dance,
See his hair,--no silk is softer--
See his shoulder's gold expanse!

See how o'er his red lips speechless
Now the seated eyes find rest;
Trickling yet the purple life blood
From the small wound on his breast.

For a young and holy maiden,
Weeps lamenting, every heart!
One sole Cossack in the village,
In this mourning takes no part.

From the confines of his country
Rode he forth with boding grey,
'Neath the dagger of the Tscherkes
He has breathed his soul away.'

And the Terek paused; behold now
In the gleaming foam flood drowned,
Silvered in the spraying billows
Dips a head with rushes crowned.

And the hoary one's lips whisper
Haughty words of youthful fire,
And the eyes lit with love lustre
Flame with passionate desire.

Foaming, rushing on swift longing,
Seethed he up in youthful zest--
And the Terek flood was wedded
With him in embraces blest.

poem by Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Deniehy’s Lament

SPIRIT of Loveliness! Heart of my heart!
Flying so far from me, Heart of my heart!
Above the eastern hill, I know the red leaves thrill,
But thou art distant still, Heart of my heart!

Sinning, I’ve searched for thee, Heart of my heart!
Sinning, I’ve dreamed of thee, Heart of my heart!
I know no end nor gain; amongst the paths of pain
I follow thee in vain, Heart of my heart!

Much have I lost for thee, Heart of my heart!
Not counting the cost for thee, Heart of my heart!
Through all this year of years thy form as mist appears,
So blind am I with tears, Heart of my heart!

Mighty and mournful now, Heart of my heart!
Cometh the Shadow-Face, Heart of my heart!
The friends I’ve left for thee, their sad eyes trouble me—
I cannot bear to be, Heart of my heart!

poem by Henry Kendall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Curse of Kehama

I charm thy life,
From the weapons of strife,
From stone and from wood,
From fire and from flood,
From the serpent’s tooth,
And the beast of blood.
From sickness I charm thee,
And time shall not harm thee;
But earth, which is mine,
Its fruits shall deny thee;
And water shall hear me,
And know thee and flee thee:
And the winds shall not touch thee
When they pass by thee,
And the dews shall not wet thee
When they fall nigh thee.
And thou shalt seek death,
To release thee, in vain;
Thou shalt live in thy pain,
While Kehama shall reign,
With a fire in thy heart,
And a fire in thy brain.
And sleep shall obey me,
And visit thee never,
And the curse shall be on thee
Forever and ever.

poem by Robert Southey
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Eviction

Unruly tenant of my heart,
Full fain would I be quit of thee.
I've played too long a losing part.
Thou bringest me neither gold nor fee.

'Tis time thou shouldst thy holding yield,
Thy will and mine no longer meet.
With cockle hast thou sowed my field,
With squanderings all the public street.

Thy presence doth disturb my pride.
Let me be owner of my own.
I fling thee with thy goods outside
And bar re--entry with a stone.

Begone and hide thee from my face.
I will not see thee chiding there.
Away, to live in my disgrace!
Away, to die in thy despair!

O impotence of human wit!
The law is mine, the fault in thee,
And yet in vain I serve the writ,
In vain I scourge thee with decree.

For lo, in stillness of the night,
O'erturning stone and guard and door,
Thou art come with thy lost tenant--right
And hast possession as before.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Nearer my God to Thee

Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee
E'en though it be a cross
That raiseth me,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.

Tho' like a wanderer,
The sun gone down,
Darkness be over me,
My rest a stone,
Yet in my dreams I'll be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.

There let the way appear,
Steps unto heaven;
All that Thou sendest me
In mercy be given,
Angels to beckon me
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.

Then with my waking thoughts
Bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs
Bethel I'll raise;
So by my woes to be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.

Or if, on joyful wing
Cleavihg the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot,
Upward I fly,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.

poem by Sarah Flower Adams
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!

Dance Figure

Dark-eyed,
O woman of my dreams,
Ivory sandalled,
There is none like thee among the dancers,
None with swift feet.
I have not found thee in the tents,
In the broken darkness.
I have not found thee at the well-head
Among the women with pitchers.
Thine arms are as a young sapling under the bark;
Thy face as a river with lights.

White as an almond are thy shoulders;
As new almonds stripped from the husk.
They guard thee not with eunuchs;
Not with bars of copper.

Gilt turquoise and silver are in the place of thy rest.
A brown robe, with threads of gold woven in
patterns, hast thou gathered about thee,
O Nathat-Ikanaie, 'Tree-at-the-river'.

As a rillet among the sedge are thy hands upon me;
Thy fingers a frosted stream.

Thy maidens are white like pebbles;
Their music about thee!

There is none like thee among the dancers;
None with swift feet.

poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian

North Wind

LOUD wind, strong wind, sweeping o'er the mountains,
Fresh wind, free wind, blowing from the sea,
Pour forth thy vials like streams from airy fountains,
Draughts of life to me.

Clear wind, cold wind, like a Northern giant,
Stars brightly threading thy cloud-driven hair,
Thrilling the blank night with thy voice defiant,
Lo! I meet thee there.

Wild wind, bold wind, like a strong-armed angel,
Clasp me and kiss me with thy kisses divine;
Breathe in this dulled ear thy secret sweet evangel--
Mine--and only mine.

Fierce wind, mad wind, howling o'er the nations,
Knew'st thou how leapeth my heart as thou goest by:
Ah, thou wouldst pause awhile in a sudden patience
Like a human sigh.

Sharp wind, keen wind, cutting as word-arrows,
Empty thy quiverful! pass by! What is't to thee,
That in some mortal eyes life's whole bright circle narrows,
To one misery?

Loud wind, strong wind, stay thou in the mountains,
Fresh wind, free wind, trouble not the sea.
Or lay thy deathly hand upon my heart's warm fountains,
That I hear not thee.

poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I Love Thee

I love thee—I love thee!
'Tis all that I can say;—
It is my vision in the night,
My dreaming in the day;
The very echo of my heart,
The blessing when I pray:
I love thee—I love thee!
Is all that I can say.
I love thee—I love thee!
Is ever on my tongue;
In all my proudest poesy
That chorus still is sung;
It is the verdict of my eyes,
Amidst the gay and young:
I love thee—I love thee!
A thousand maids among.
I love thee—I love thee!
Thy bright hazel glance,
The mellow lute upon those lips,
Whose tender tones entrance;
But most, dear heart of hearts, thy proofs
That still these words enhance,
I love thee—I love thee!
Whatever be thy chance.

poem by Thomas Hood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Beware! (From The German)

I know a maiden fair to see,
Take care!
She can both false and friendly be,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!

She has two eyes, so soft and brown,
Take care!
She gives a side-glance and looks down,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!

And she has hair of a golden hue,
Take care!
And what she says, it is not true,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!

She has a bosom as white as snow,
Take care!
She knows how much it is best to show,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!

She gives thee a garland woven fair,
Take care!
It is a fool's-cap for thee to wear,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Union and Liberty

FLAG of the heroes who left us their glory,
Borne through their battle-fields' thunder and flame,
Blazoned in song and illumined in story,
Wave o'er us all who inherit their fame!