The Portent
Horace, BK. V. Ode 20.
Oh, late withdrawn from human-kind
And following dreams we never knew!
Varus, what dream has Fate assigned
To trouble you?
Such virtue as commends of law
Of Virtue to the vulgar horde
Suffices not. You needs must draw
A righteous sword;
And, flagrant in well-doing, smite
The priests of Bacchus at their fane,
Lest any worshipper invite
The God again.
Whence public strife and naked crime
And-deadlier than the cup you shun--
A people schooled to mock, in time,
All law--not one.
Cease, then, to fashion State-made sin,
Nor give thy children cause to doubt
That Virtue springs from Iron within--
Not lead without.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Virtue Of Woman
Man of virtue has need;-into life with boldness he plunges,
Entering with fortune more sure into the hazardous strife;
But to woman one virtue suffices; it is ever shining
Lovingly forth to the heart; so let it shine to the eye!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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And what does reward virtue? You think the communist commissar rewards virtue? You think a Hitler rewards virtue? You think, excuse me, if you'll pardon me, American presidents reward virtue? Do they choose their appointees on the basis of the virtue of the people appointed or on the basis of their political clout?
quote by Milton Friedman
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The effect of the virtue
A man of virtue practises virtue
Against the myriads of odds, so true,
And wove around him a crust of virtue
But his core remained as same underneath.
His libido is much in compression,
Capable of giving more explosions.
A man of virtue is a potential danger
From whom might spurt evils at any scale.
28.08.2000, Palasa
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Supposing that I should have the courage
Supposing that I should have the courage
To let a red sword of virtue
Plunge into my heart,
Letting to the weeds of the ground
My sinful blood,
What can you offer me?
A gardened castle?
A flowery kingdom?
What? A hope?
Then hence with your red sword of virtue.
poem by Stephen Crane
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The virtue is compared with milk
Colors of the cows vary,
The variety of the breeds vary,
But the color of the milk
does never vary,
It is always pure and white!
Similarly,
The quality for a human being
is the virtue he gains in his life time
through good deeds;
('The virtue is compared with milk')
The paths for attaining virtue
may be many genuine ways!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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The determined scholar and the man of virtue will not seek to live at the expense of injuring their virtue. They will even sacrifice their lives to preserve their virtue complete.
The determined scholar and the man of virtue will not seek to live at the expense of injuring their virtue. They will even sacrifice their lives to preserve their virtue complete.
Virtue alone is for real; all else is sham. Talent and greatness depend on virtue, not on fortune. Only virtue is sufficient unto herself. She makes us love the living and remember the dead.
quote by Baltasar Gracian
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Sonnet 52: A Strife Is Grown
A strife is grown between Virtue and Love,
While each pretends that Stella must be his:
Her eyes, her lips, her all, saith Love, do this
Since they do wear his badge, most firmly prove.
But Virtue thus that title doth disprove:
That Stella (oh dear name) that Stella is
That virtuous soul, sure heir of heav'nly bliss,
Not this fair outside, which our hearts doth move;
And therefore, though her beauty and her grace
Be Love's indeed, in Stella's self he may
By no pretense claim any manner place.
Well, Love, since this demur our suit will stay,
Let Virtue have that Stella's self; yet thus
That Virtue but that body grant to us.
poem by Philip Sidney
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You cannot have Liberty in this world without what you call Moral Virtue, and you cannot have Moral Virtue without the slavery of that half of the human race who hate what you call Moral Virtue.
quote by William Blake
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Ode V: On Love Of Praise
I.
Of all the springs within the mind
Which prompt her steps in fortune's maze,
From none more pleasing aid we find
Than from the genuine love of praise.
II.
Nor any partial, private end
Such reverence to the public bears;
Nor any passion, virtue's friend,
So like to virtue's self appears.
III.
For who in glory can delight
Without delight in glorious deeds?
What man a charming voice can slight,
Who courts the echo that succeeds?
IV.
But not the echo on the voice
More, than on virtue praise, depends;
To which, of course, it's real price
The judgment of the praiser lends.
V.
If praise then with religious awe
From the sole perfect judge be sought,
A nobler aim, a purer law
Nor priest, nor bard, nor sage hath taught.
VI.
With which in character the same
Tho' in an humbler sphere it lies,
I count that soul of human fame,
The suffrage of the good and wise.
poem by Mark Akenside
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When we think of the ideal, we do not add virtue to virtue, but think of Jesus Christ, so that the standard of human life is no longer a code, but a character.
quote by E. Stanley Jones
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My purpose is to inspire people of all walks of life to discover the virtue inherent within them and to bring forth that virtue in their daily lives.
quote by William Shirley
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The Conflict
No! I this conflict longer will not wage,
The conflict duty claims--the giant task;--
Thy spells, O virtue, never can assuage
The heart's wild fire--this offering do not ask
True, I have sworn--a solemn vow have sworn,
That I myself will curb the self within;
Yet take thy wreath, no more it shall be worn--
Take back thy wreath, and leave me free to sin.
Rent be the contract I with thee once made;--
She loves me, loves me--forfeit be the crown!
Blessed he who, lulled in rapture's dreamy shade,
Glides, as I glide, the deep fall gladly down.
She sees the worm that my youth's bloom decays,
She sees my spring-time wasted as it flees;
And, marvelling at the rigor that gainsays
The heart's sweet impulse, my reward decrees.
Distrust this angel purity, fair soul!
It is to guilt thy pity armeth me;
Could being lavish its unmeasured whole,
It ne'er could give a gift to rival thee!
Thee--the dear guilt I ever seek to shun,
O tyranny of fate, O wild desires!
My virtue's only crown can but be won
In that last breath--when virtue's self expires!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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The Nature Of Love. (From The Italian)
To noble heart Love doth for shelter fly,
As seeks the bird the forest's leafy shade;
Love was not felt till noble heart beat high,
Nor before love the noble heart was made.
Soon as the sun's broad flame
Was formed, so soon the clear light filled the air;
Yet was not till he came:
So love springs up in noble breasts, and there
Has its appointed space,
As heat in the bright flames finds its allotted place.
Kindles in noble heart the fire of love,
As hidden virtue in the precious stone:
This virtue comes not from the stars above,
Till round it the ennobling sun has shone;
But when his powerful blaze
Has drawn forth what was vile, the stars impart
Strange virtue in their rays;
And thus when Nature doth create the heart
Noble and pure and high,
Like virtue from the star, love comes from woman's eye.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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My Antipathy
I have a heartfelt aversion for crime,--a twofold aversion,
Since 'tis the reason why man prates about virtue so much.
"What! thou hatest, then, virtue?"--I would that by all it were practised,
So that, God willing, no man ever need speak of it more.
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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I do nothing but go about persuading you all, old and young alike, not to take thought for your persons or your properties, but and chiefly to care about the greatest improvement of the soul. I tell you that virtue is not given by money, but that from virtue comes money and every other good of man, public as well as private. This is my teaching, and if this is the doctrine which corrupts the youth, I am a mischievous person.
You who live
You who live now in this world
And which live sovereign in virtue,
It is to you death remembered?
Your fathers are in the deep pit
Eaten worms, without lance and ecu,
You who live now in this world
And which reign sovereign in virtue.
Warn there and carry out round life,
Because while living will be cold and chanu,
Because in the end will die pare and naked.
You who live now in this world
And which reign sovereign in virtue
It is to you death remembered?
poem by Eustache Deschamps
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To a Lady
WELL you Sincerity display,
A virtue wond'rous rare !
Nor value, tho' the world should say,
You're rude, so you're sincere.
To be sincere, then, give me leave ;
And I will frankly own,
Since you but this one virtue have,
'Twere better you had none.
poem by Mary Barber
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A Praise of his Lady
GIVE place, you ladies, and begone!
Boast not yourselves at all!
For here at hand approacheth one
Whose face will stain you all.
The virtue of her lively looks
Excels the precious stone;
I wish to have none other books
To read or look upon.
In each of her two crystal eyes
Smileth a naked boy;
It would you all in heart suffice
To see that lamp of joy.
I think Nature hath lost the mould
Where she her shape did take;
Or else I doubt if Nature could
So fair a creature make.
She may be well compared
Unto the Phoenix kind,
Whose like was never seen or heard,
That any man can find.
In life she is Diana chaste,
In troth Penelopey;
In word and eke in deed steadfast.
--What will you more we say?
If all the world were sought so far,
Who could find such a wight?
Her beauty twinkleth like a star
Within the frosty night.
Her rosial colour comes and goes
With such a comely grace,
More ruddier, too, than doth the rose,
Within her lively face.
At Bacchus' feast none shall her meet,
Ne at no wanton play,
Nor gazing in an open street,
Nor gadding as a stray.
The modest mirth that she doth use
Is mix'd with shamefastness;
All vice she doth wholly refuse,
And hateth idleness.
O Lord! it is a world to see
How virtue can repair,
And deck in her such honesty,
Whom Nature made so fair.
Truly she doth so far exceed
Our women nowadays,
As doth the jeliflower a weed;
And more a thousand ways.
How might I do to get a graff
Of this unspotted tree?
--For all the rest are plain but chaff,
Which seem good corn to be.
This gift alone I shall her give;
When death doth what he can,
Her honest fame shall ever live
Within the mouth of man.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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