De Scaevola.
DE SCAEVOLA.
Lictorem pro rege necans nunc mutius ultro
Sacrifico propriam concremat igne manum:
Miratur Porsenna virum, paenamque relaxans
Maxima cum obscessis faedera a victor init,
Plus flammis patriae confert quam fortibus armis,
Una domans bellum funere dextra sua.
ENGLISHED.
The hand, by which no king but serjeant dies,
Mutius in fire doth freely sacrifice;
The prince admires the Hero, quits his pains,
And Victor from the seige peace entertains;
Rome's more oblig'd to flames than arms or pow'r,
When one burnt hand shall the whole war devour.
poem by Richard Lovelace
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Sacrifice Of Victor
What is sacrifice?
(we s... we s... we s... we sacrifice)
Npg in mass attack, sonny, please.
(we sacrifice)
Church if u will, please turn 2 the book of victor (we s, we s)
We like 2 start at the top if u dont mind
(we sacrifice)
(dont say it, preacher)
I was born on a blood stained table
Cord wrapped around my neck
Epilectic til the age of 7
I was sure heaven marked the deck
(we sacrifice)
I know joy lives round the corner
{joy for sale down on the corner} (we sacrifice)
One day Ill visit her Im gonna
{out on my block Im just a loner} (we sacrifice)
When she tell me everything {tell me}
Thats when the angels sing {sacrifice}
Thats when the victory is sho nuff {sho nuff down with the sacrifice}
(we sacrifice)
(help me)
(dont say it, preacher)
Mama held up her baby 4 protection
From a man with a strap in his hand
Ask the victor bout pain and rejection
U think he dont when he do understand
(we sacrifice)
I know joy lives round the corner
{joy for sale down on the corner} (we sacrifice)
One day Ill visit her Im gonna
{out on my block Im just a loner} (we sacrifice)
When she tell me everything {tell me}
Thats when the angels sing {sacrifice}
Thats when the victory is sho nuff {sho nuff down with the sacrifice}
(we sacrifice)
(help me)
{s.a.c.r.i.f.i.c.e}
(we-we-we sacrifice)
(dont say it preacher)
(sac-sacrifice)
(we-we-we sacrifice)
(we-we-we sacrifice)
(sacrifice... if u turn the page)
(dont say it, preacher)
1967 in a bus marked public schools
Rode me and a group of unsuspecting political tools
Our parents wondered what it was like 2 have another color near
So they put their babies together 2 eliminate the fear
We sacrifice yes we did
Fighting one another, (we sacrifice) (dont say it preacher)
All because of color
The angel of hate - she taught me how 2 kick her
If she called me anything but victor (u mean like nigger? )
If the only thing that tells me is father time
Then sacrifice is the mutha sublime - we love it
Listen mutha - we sacrifice
(dont... dont... dont say it preacher)
(we sacrifice)
(well, well, well, well)
(what is sacrifice? )
Hold yo text, deacon
Never understood my old friends laughing
They got high when everything else got wrong (pass the booze up here)
Dr. king was killed and the streets
They started burnin
When the smoke was cleared, their high was gone
Education got important, so important 2 victor
A little more important than ripple and weed
Bernadettes a lady, and she told me (what she say? )
Whatever u do son, a little discipline is what u need,
Is what u need, u need to sacrifice
(we sacrifice)
I know joy lives round the corner
{joy for sale down on the corner} (we sacrifice)
One day Ill visit her Im gonna
{out on my block Im just a loner} (we sacrifice)
When she tell me everything {tell me}
Thats when the angels sing {sacrifice}
Thats when the victory is sho nuff {sho nuff down with the sacrifice}
(we sacrifice)
(what is sacrifice? )
(we sacrifice)
{s.a.c.r.i.f.i.c.e}
(we sacrifice) (joy around the corner)
Hey wendy, how come we... (we sacrifice)
scuse me yall (we sacrifice)
We dont dont mean 2 take up yo time (joy around the corner)
But we got something
Heavy on our minds (we sacrifice)
Yes, we do (we sacrifice)
Sometimes, u gotta leave the one u love
Somebody, anybody, everybody wave your hand
Around the corner, theres another sacrifice (joy around the corner)
But u got 2 do the best u can yall (we sacrifice)
Say u got 2 go through it (go through it)
U got 2 go through it all (go through it all)
High glory, yeah
Sell it, dont tell it, dont tell me (joy around the corner)
[.....] nice at my feet
Lord I might get tired,
But i, Ive got 2 keep on (we sacrifice)
Walkin down this road, (we sacrifice)
Keep on walkin down this road (joy around the corner)
When I reach my destination (we sacrifice)
My name will be victor
Amen
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Victor Should Have Been A Jazz Musician
I went to a concert, to see nina, simone,
The concert was over, there was still a band playing, the rap up,
The booguh played with his hands, I close my eyes, and look at him,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
I said to myself, victor should have been a jazz musician,
I looked at his face, and I saw victor, looked at his smile, and I saw victor,
I looked at his hair, and thought,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
And the people dancing on the floor, dancing on the floor, were so high,
You should have seen victor smile, you should have seen victor smile,
As they danced all the while all around on the floor, and he laughed,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Oh, victor should have been a jazz musician,
He was playing so nice, the jazz musician,
Ah, ah,
Hes living in a fast beat, in a city thats hot,
Telling all the latinos and puerto ricans, victor seems happy, but he doesnt even know himself, hes gotta look inside to know his first love,
Victor was a jazz musician, he was playing so nice, victor was a jazz musician, (? ) victor was a jazz musician,
Victor loves his music, he loves his music, somewhere, he plays his music, somewhere,
Victor is a jazz musician,
Jazz.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let Me Be Your HERO
Let Me Be Your HERO
By: Jo E
My daughter, let me be your Hero.
Let me take you hand and lead you into a dance.
Let me look at you and take you in my arms.
Dance with me in the Rain.
But most of all my daughter 'Let me be you Hero'
Let me show you how much you are loved.
Let me show you how much I LOVE YOU.
Let me just protect you.
But most of all, will you Let me be YOUR HERO
Let me be YOUR HERO
Take my hand, and i will lead you.
I will lead you to the most beautiful, wonderful, magic place where its just you and me!
Let me be Your HERO
I will take you hand in mine and never let go
Let me be YOUR HERO
I will love you till eternity
Let me be YOU HERO
Let me hold you in my arms where u just want to cry
Let me be YOUR HERO
I wil protect you, when there is no one to protect you. Ill BE YOUR HERO!
WIll you just let me be you HERO?
My Daughter ILL be YOUR HERO if only you will LET ME BE YOUR HERO!
©2009
poem by Jo Hanna Erk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The guardian of the flames
Always there have been
something holy to me,
about flames
that comes alive suddenly.
It’s a great thing
to see flames spread
and to see yellow licking tongs,
consume wood
and to get heat, energy
and comfort from it.
At a time human existence
surely depended on
keeping the secret
of flames
and to make sure,
that the last glowing coals
do not die.
When I was a child,
my brother and me
almost burnt a hillock
and some residences down
by misadventure.
The more I tried to kill
the small fire,
that I started in the long brown winter grass,
the more the fire spread.
It’s a fact that my behind
also burnt on that occasion
from a hiding
with a old fan belt
and I learned quickly,
what the power of fire is
and how to act responsibly with matches.
Tonight I am the guardian of the flames
at the fireplace in the lounge
and I take care of the hot coals
and have to put wood on
before the fire dies.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Firebreather
As the wind blows and leaves rustle.
Fire spits through the air.
Smoke and ash fly everywhere.
The young and old cower in fear.
Young and handsome bursts out of the clouds.
Big and strong with a mighty sword.
Shield in one hand to fight off the flames.
Ashes fly everywhere but the hero shows no fear.
Triumphant roars ring through the skies.
Screams come from all directions.
I'll save you all the hero claims.
Flames shoot towards the sky.
The hero rises to the challenge.
A failed attempt at stabbing the heart.
Followed by many many more.
This hero will never give up.
He will not rest till mirth fills the atmosphere.
Jab, jab and jab again.
He must try with all his might.
One last stab, will the fire breather go down?
The hero hopes and prays for success.
The ground shakes.
Oh no a possible earthquake.
The hero celebrates with joy.
The monster is dead and now has no head.
The young hero mounts the head with pride.
All fear is gone but no hope is lost.
The hero may rest at last.
poem by Katie Diaz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Victor Galbraith. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
Under the walls of Monterey
At daybreak the bugles began to play,
Victor Galbraith!
In the mist of the morning damp and gray,
These were the words they seemed to say:
'Come forth to thy death,
Victor Galbraith!'
Forth he came, with a martial tread;
Firm was his step, erect his head;
Victor Galbraith,
He who so well the bugle played,
Could not mistake the words it said:
'Come forth to thy death,
Victor Galbraith!'
He looked at the earth, he looked at the sky,
He looked at the files of musketry,
Victor Galbraith!
And he said, with a steady voice and eye,
'Take good aim; I am ready to die!'
Thus challenges death
Victor Galbraith.
Twelve fiery tongues flashed straight and red,
Six leaden balls on their errand sped;
Victor Galbraith
Falls to the ground, but he is not dead;
His name was not stamped on those balls of lead,
And they only scath
Victor Galbraith.
Three balls are in his breast and brain,
But he rises out of the dust again,
Victor Galbraith!
The water he drinks has a bloody stain;
'O kill me, and put me out of my pain!'
In his agony prayeth
Victor Galbraith.
Forth dart once more those tongues of flame,
And the bugler has died a death of shame,
Victor Galbraith!
His soul has gone back to whence it came,
And no one answers to the name,
When the Sergeant saith,
'Victor Galbraith!'
Under the walls of Monterey
By night a bugle is heard to play,
Victor Galbraith!
Through the mist of the valley damp and gray
The sentinels hear the sound, and say,
'That is the wraith
Of Victor Galbraith!'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hand-Me-Down!
got my hand-me-down boots,
and my hand-me-down jeans.
my broke down hand-me-down hat,
doing hand-me-down things.
my hand-me-down fire,
and my hand-me-down pot.
take a hand-me-down chair,
i'll share what i've got.
got some hand-me-down thoughts,
a couple of hand-me-down songs.
i've got a hand-me-down heart
that wont leave you alone.
we'll talk about hand-me-down freedom,
and hand-me-down truth....
in this hand-me-down world,
it's just me and you!
in this hand-me-down world....
paying hand-me-down dues!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Because The Love Of Life There
how I can love
If I can not love
I can understand how
if I can not understand
how could I survive
if I do not have a dream
though I always hear
then ignore
though I always see
then ignore
though I always remember
and forget
yes that's me the wanderer
born and grow even without love
in the presence
there is a fire that is ready to devour me
sometimes I found dew happy but was unable to extinguish the flames
I'm the wanderer
who are looking for love
although tired I will always survive
because I do not want to burnt
I say that this sacrifice
to a belief that 'because the love of life there'
Copyright © 2012
My Other Hand...
the black man's hand,
the poor man's hand.
the Muslim hand, the Jewish hand...
the gay man's hand,
the working man's hand,
the ex-convict's hand,
the farmer's hand, the garbage man's hand...
the Christian's hand, the atheist's hand,
the father's hand, the soldier's hand,
the peacemaker's hand,
the healer's hand, the teacher's hand,
the prodigal's hand, even the murderer's hand...
the victim's hand, the broken hand,
the praying hand, the touching hand...
all, when extended,
feel like my other hand!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hand I Offer
the hand i offer,
the hand of peace.
the caring hand,
the giving hand,
the get dirty hand,
the pull you up hand,
the work with you hand,
walk beside you hand,
the companion hand,
the communion hand....
the hand i offer,
....without conditions!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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King Of Dreams
It doesnt matter if Im right or wrong
It really doesnt mean a thing
It doesnt matter if you like my song
As long as you can hear me sing
cause Im the thorn in every little girls rose
You know I cut but never bleed
A shadow in the night, pure delight
I can satisfy your every need
Im a real smooth dancer, Im fantasy man
Master of illusion, magic touch in my hand
All the stages are empty when I steal the scenes
A beggar of love, second hand hero...king of dreams
Dont make a difference what you got
It doesnt matter what you lose
Dont make a difference if you like it or not
Baby Im gonna change your attitude
cause all around me there is mystery and wonder
Now cant you see it in my eyes
Ill crack the sky, make you feel the thunder
Youll never see through my disguise
Im a real smooth dancer, Im fantasy man
Master of illusion, with my sleight of hand
All the stages are empty when I steal the scenes
A beggar for love, second hand hero... king of dreams
All around, all around
Emotional squeeze through again and again
I know how to please you, your mind is on the bend
Cant you feel the power, surrender in my arms
Beyond the witching hour were travelling on and on
Im a real smooth dancer, Im fantasy man
Master of illusion, magic touch in my hand
The stages are empty when I steal the scenes
A beggar of love, second hand hero... king of dreams
Im a real smooth dancer, fantasy man
Master of illusion, sleight of hand
The stages are empty when I steal the scenes
A beggar for love... king of dreams
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The peasants of the Asturias believe that in every litter of wolves there is one pup that is killed by the mother for fear that on growing up it would devour the other little ones.
Victor Hugo in Les Miserables
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Welcome to the Prince of Wales
Lines written when the Prince of Wales
was about embarking for Canada, May, 1860.
In his long voyage o'er the sea,
To where doth grow the maple tree,
May he be blest with pleasant gales-
The coming man, the Prince of Wales.
The Maple grows but in good soil,
Where nature doth reward for toil.
The farmer, splitting his fence rails,
He welcome bids the Prince of Wales.
In the woods the axe is ringing,
And the yeoman merry singing ;
The song resounds o'er hills and dales -
Our future king, the Prince of Wales.
'Round the brow of our future chief
We'll weave a wreath of maple leaf,
For o'er broad Canada prevails
Kind feelings to the Prince of Wales.
When in this land the Prince arrives
May he have many pleasant drives,
And on our lakes have merry sails-
Great king of princes, Prince of Wales.
poem by James McIntyre
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hallmarks Of The Hero
From ancient times, each hero stood
Against each evil foe
And for the good did what he should,
Heroic deeds to show...
The humble hero knew his place,
To sacrifice his all,
Perhaps to save the human race
Or teach God's truth like Paul...
From time-to-time, their tales are told,
Like stories, nothing more,
Like parables, though good as gold,
We might choose to ignore...
We were not there, not witness to
Their strength and bravery,
Yet credit where credit is due,
Meant for posterity...
Initiative is borne of faith,
Directing every thought,
Is there someone I'm meant to save?
Some battle to be fought?
Is there a maiden in distress?
Some Princess I'm to love?
Some King that I must yet impress?
Or challenge rise above?
Perseverance has helped them, too,
How else could they endure?
To keep in mind that point of view
That helps them suffer more...
For sacrifice is everywhere,
As every parent learns...
But what are heroes without prayer,
If God above each spurns?
Thus heroes have a right to choose,
Freewill determines fate,
Another fight to win or lose,
The victor thought as great...
Consider every hero known
And all they sacrificed...
Of all of these, one stands alone...
Our Saviour, Jesus Christ...
Denis Martindale, copyright, February 2012.
We can hear the word of the Lord on
Revelation TV on UK Sky Digital 581
as well as the WATCH NOW link on
the revelationtv-dot-com website...
poem by Denis Martindale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Midnight Sun
They say you know your way around
They say you are a man of the world
You say she is a new kid in town
You think shes just another girl
You get suspicious that something is wrong
No explanation why it lasts so long
And by the look on your face, everybody knows
You cant deny that you feel exposed
You can feel the heat when the night is gone
You been burnt by the midnight sun
When you look for relief but you cant find none
You been burnt by the midnight sun
Like a train running down the track
Its too late, things are out of control
Theres no way she can take you back
Theres no release for the brand on your soul
You never noticed the touch of her hand
You messed around with things
You dont understand
Now you sit in darkness while a new day dies
Her face is shining when you close your eyes
When you feel the heat when the light is gone
You been burnt by the midnight sun
When you look for relief but you cant find none
You been burnt by the midnight sun
I know the feeling, you wish youd been warned
Now you and I are brothers in arms
cause I know the pain cause I know her kind
One left a feeling burning in my mind
And you feel the heat when the night is gone
I been burnt by the midnight sun
And I look for relief but I cant find none
I been burnt by the midnight sun
I can feel the heat when the light is gone
I been burnt by the midnight sun
And I look for relief but I cant find none
I been burnt by the midnight sun
song performed by by Todd Rundgren
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dies Irae
Dies irae! dies ilia!
Solvet saeclum in favilla
Teste David cum Sibylla.
Quantus tremor est futurus,
Quando Judex est venturus.
Cuncta stricte discussurus.
Tuba mirum spargens sonum
Per sepulchra regionem,
Coget omnes ante thronum.
Mors stupebit, et Natura,
Quum resurget creatura
Judicanti responsura.
Liber scriptus proferetur,
In quo totum continetur,
Unde mundus judicetur.
Judex ergo quum sedebit,
Quicquid latet apparebit,
Nil inultum remanebit.
Quid sum miser tunc dicturus,
Quem patronem rogaturus,
Quum vix justus sit securus?
Rex tremendae majestatis,
Qui salvandos salvas gratis;
Salva me, Fons pietatis
Recordare, Jesu pie
Quod sum causa tuae viae;
Ne me perdas illa die.
Quarens me sedisti lassus
Redimisti crucem passus,
Tantus labor non sit cassus.
Juste Judex ultionis,
Donum fac remissionis
Ante diem rationis.
Ingemisco tanquam reus,
Culpa rubet vultus meus;
Supplicanti parce, Deus.
Qui Mariam absolvisti
Et latronem exaudisti,
Mihi quoque spem dedisti.
Preces meae non sunt dignae,
Sed tu bonus fac benigne
Ne perenni cremer igne.
Inter oves locum praesta.
Et ab haedis me sequestra,
Statuens in parte dextra.
Confutatis maledictis,
Flammis acribus addictis,
Voca me cum benedictis.
Oro supplex et acclinis,
Cor contritum quasi cinis;
Gere curam mei finis.
Lacrymosa dies illa
Qua resurgent et favilla,
Judicandus homo reus
Huic ergo parce, Deus!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Burnt
I have burnt my hand enough so,
I don't want to put my hand into this fire!
For your love is in the air and,
It is too dangerous to me like a bird shot dead.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love is a fire whose flame doth burn unseen
Love is a fire whose flame doth burn unseen
A wound whose aching smart we do not feel;
Contentment discontent with its own weal;
A teasing pain, though neither deep nor keen:
It is not liking more than liking e'en;
Wandering alone 'midst crowds that seem unreal;
Not to content one's self with Heaven's own seal;
A care that only gain by loss doth mean:
'Tis to be captured with one's own consent;
The victor to the vanquished here must serve;
Keep faith with one who on our death is bent:
How can its fickle favour e'er preserve
In human hearts consistence of intent,
Since to itself contrarious Love doth swerve?
poem by Luís de Camões from Sonnets (1595), translated by Collard J. Stock
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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We have peace with God as soon as we believe, but not always with ourselves. The pardon may be past the prince's hand and seal, and yet not put into the prisoner's hand.
quote by William Gurnall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Armistice
cease-fires on fingertips everything you want for everything you need trade the future in for history unconditional surrendering im not going to tell you why no im not going to you why armistice in broken hands parades to honor you a marshall plan for me to the victor go the spoils of war the victor owns the pen that writes the past even if you ask
song performed by by Quitter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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