From the Medea of Euripides
The rites derived from ancient days
With thoughtless reverence we praise,
The rites that taught us to combine
The joys of music and of wine,
And bid the feast, and song and bowl
O'erfill the saturated soul:
But ne'er the flute or lyre applied
To cheer despair or soften pride;
Nor call them to the gloomy cells
Where Wants repines and Vengeance swells;
Where Hate sits musing to betray,
And murder meditates his prey!
To dens of guilt and shades of care,
Ye sons of melody, repair;
Nor deign the festive dome to cloy
With superfluity of joy,
Ah! little needs the minstrel's power
To speed the light convivial hour,
The board with varied plenty crown'd
May spare the luxuries of sound.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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Related quotes
Parody of a Translation from the Medea of Euripides
Ere shall they not, who resolute explore
Times gloomy backward with judicious eyes;
And scanning right the practice of yore,
Shall deem our hoar progenitors unwise.
They to the dome where smoke with curling play
Announced the dinner to the regions round,
Summon'd the singer blithe, and harper gay,
And aided wine with dulcet-streaming sound.
The better use of notes, or sweet or shrill,
By quivering string or modulated wind;
Trumpet or lyre - to their harsh bosoms chill
Admission ne'er had sought, or could not find.
Oh! send them to the sullen mansions dun,
Her baleful eyes where sorrow rolls around;
Where gloom-enamour'd mischief loves to dwell
And murder, all blood-bolter'd, schemes the wound.
When cates luxuriant pile the spacious dish,
And purple nectar glads the festive hour;
The guest, without a want, without a wish,
Can yield no room to music's soothing power.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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Seamen Three
Seamen three! What men be ye?
Gotham's three wise men we be.
Whither in your bowl so free?
To rake the moon from out the sea.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine;
And your ballast is old wine.
Who art thou, so fast adrift?
I am he they call Old Care.
Here on board we will thee lift.
No: I may not enter there.
Wherefore so? 'Tis Jove's decree,
In a bowl Care may not be;
In a bowl Care may not be.
Fear ye not the waves that roll?
No: in charmed bowl we swim.
What the charm that floats the bowl?
Water may not pass the brim.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine;
And your ballast is old wine.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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Three Men of Gotham
SEAMEN three! What men be ye?
Gotham's three wise men we be.
Whither in your bowl so free?
To rake the moon from out the sea.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine.--
And your ballast is old wine.
Who art thou, so fast adrift?
I am he they call Old Care.
Here on board we will thee lift.
No: I may not enter there.
Wherefore so? 'Tis Jove's decree,
In a bowl Care may not be.--
In a bowl Care may not be.
Fear ye not the waves that roll?
No: in charmed bowl we swim.
What the charm that floats the bowl?
Water may not pass the brim.
The bowl goes trim. The moon doth shine.
And our ballast is old wine.--
And your ballast is old wine.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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My Native Land!
WHERE is the minstrel's native land?
Where the flames of light and feeling glow;
Where the flowers are wreathed for beauty's brow;
Where the bounding heart swells strong and high,
With holy hopes which may not die--
There is my native land!
What is that bright land's music name?
Ere it bent its neck to a foreign yoke,
It was called the land of the broad strong oak--
The land of the free--the German land--
But her sons lie slain by the stranger's hand,
And she weeps sad tears of shame.
Why does the minstrel's country weep?
That the hurricane's rage hath bowed the pride
Of those who should stem the rising tide;
That her princes quail--and that none will hear
Her holy words of might and fear--
Therefore my land must weep!
To whom does the minstrel's country call?
It calls to the silent heavenly powers,
With despair, as the thunder darkly lowers,
For its freedom--for those who should break its chain--
For the hand that never strikes in vain--
To these doth my country call!
For what does the minstrel's country sigh?
That the bloodhound may hunt beyond the bound
Of the soil which brave hearts make holy ground;
That the serf may cease; and our sons be free,
Or those who have borne them, cease to be--
For this does my country sigh!
And still doth the minstrel's country hope?
Her hope is firm, for her cause is good--
That her brave will rise, and her true in blood;
And that God the avenger, our fathers' God,
Will mark the tears that bedew her sod--
Such is my country's hope!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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The Vine
The wine of Love is music,
And the feast of Love is song:
And when Love sits down to the banquet,
Love sits long:
Sits long and arises drunken,
But not with the feast and the wine;
He reeleth with his own heart,
That great, rich Vine.
poem by James Thomson
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A Literature Lesson. Sir Patrick Spens in the Eighteenth Century Manner
VERSE I
In a famed town of Caledonia's land,
A prosperous port contiguous to the strand,
A monarch feasted in right royal state;
But care still dogs the pleasures of the Great,
And well his faithful servants could surmise
From his distracted looks and broken sighs
That though the purple bowl was circling free,
His mind was prey to black perplexity.
At last, while others thoughtless joys invoke,
Fierce from his breast the laboured utterance broke;
"Alas!" he cried, "and what to me the gain
Though I am king of all this fair domain,
Though Ceres minister her plenteous hoard,
And Bacchus with his bounty crowns my board,
If Neptune still, reluctant to obey,
Neglects my sceptre and denies my sway?
On a far mission must my vessels urge
Their course impetuous o'er the boiling surge;
But who shall guide them with a dextrous hand,
And bring them safely to that distant land?
Whose skill shall dare the perils of the deep,
And beard the Sea-god in his stormy keep?
VERSE II
He spake: and straightway, rising from his side
An ancient senator, of reverend pride,
Unsealed his lips, and uttered from his soul
Great store of flatulence and rigmarole;
-- All fled the Court, which shades of night invest,
And Pope and Gay and Prior told the rest.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
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La Corona
Deign at my hands this crown of prayer and praise,
Weaved in my lone devout melancholy,
Thou which of good hast, yea, art treasury,
All changing unchanged Ancient of days.
But do not with a vile crown of frail bays
Reward my Muse's white sincerity ;
But what Thy thorny crown gain'd, that give me,
A crown of glory, which doth flower always.
The ends crown our works, but Thou crown'st our ends,
For at our ends begins our endless rest.
The first last end, now zealously possess'd,
With a strong sober thirst my soul attends.
'Tis time that heart and voice be lifted high ;
Salvation to all that will is nigh.
poem by John Donne
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Oh That I Were As In Months Past!
Sweet was the time when first I felt
The Saviour's pard'ning blood
Applied, to cleanse my soul from guilt,
And bring me home to God.
Soon as the morn the light revealed,
His praises tuned my tongue;
And when the evening shades prevailed,
His love was all my song.
In vain the tempter spread his wiles,
The world no more could charm;
I lived upon my Saviour's smiles,
And leaned upon his arm.
In prayer my soul drew near the Lord,
And saw his glory shine;
And when I read his holy word,
I called each promise mine.
Then to his saints I often spoke;
Of what his love had done;
But now my heart is almost broke,
For all my joys are gone.
Now when the evening shade prevails,
My soul in darkness mourns,
And when the morn the light reveals,
No light to me returns.
My prayers are now a chatt'ring noise,
For Jesus hides his face;
I read, the promise meets my eyes,
But will not reach my case.
Now Satan threatens to prevail,
And make my soul his prey;
Yet, Lord, thy mercies cannot fail,
O come without delay.
poem by John Newton
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Ode XIII: On Lyric Poetry
I. 1.
Once more I join the Thespian choir,
And taste the inspiring fount again:
O parent of the Grecian lyre,
Admit me to thy powerful strain—
And lo, with ease my step invades
The pathless vale and opening shades,
Till now I spy her verdant seat;
And now at large i drink the sound,
While these her offspring, listening round,
By turns her melody repeat.
I. 2.
I see Anacreon smile and sing,
His silver tresses breathe perfume;
His cheek displays a second spring
Of roses taught by wine to bloom.
Away, deceitful cares, away,
And let me listen to his lay;
Let me the wanton pomp injoy,
While in smooth dance the light-wing'd Hours
Lead round his lyre it's patron powers,
Kind laughter and convivial joy.
I. 3.
Broke from the fetters of his native land,
Devoting shame and vengeance to her lords,
With louder impulse and a threatening hand
The Lesbian patriot smites the sounding chords:
Ye wretches, ye perfidious train,
Ye curs'd of gods and freeborn men,
Ye murderers of the laws,
Though now ye glory in your lust,
Though now ye tread the feeble neck in dust,
Yet Time and righteous Jove will judge your dreadful cause.
II. 1.
But lo, to Sappho's melting airs
Descends the radiant queen of love:
She smiles, and asks what fonder cares
Her suppliant's plaintive measures move:
Why is my faithful maid distress'd?
Who, Sappho, wounds thy tender breast?
Say, flies he?—Soon he shall pursue:
Shuns he thy gifts—He soon shall give:
Slights he thy sorrows?—He shall grieve,
And soon to all thy wishes bow.
II. 2.
But, o Melpomene, for whom
Awakes thy golden shell again?
What mortal breath shall e'er presume
To echo that unbounded strain?
Majestic in the frown of years,
Behold, the man of Thebes appears:
For some there are, whose mighty frame
The hand of Jove at birth indow'd
With hopes that mock the gazing crowd;
As eagles drink the noontide flame,
II. 3.
While the dim raven beats her weary wings,
And clamours far below.—Propitious Muse,
While I so late unlock thy purer springs,
And breathe whate'er thy ancient airs infuse,
Wilt thou for Albion's sons around
(Ne'er had'st thou audience more renown'd)
Thy charming arts imploy,
As when the winds from shore to shore
Through Greece thy lyre's persuasive language bore,
Till towns and isles and seas return'd the vocal joy?
III. 1.
Yet then did pleasure's lawless throng,
Oft rushing forth in loose attire,
Thy virgin dance, thy graceful song
Pollute with impious revels dire.
O fair, o chaste, thy echoing shade
May no soul discord here invade:
Nor let thy strings one accent move,
Except what earth's untroubled ear
'Mid all her social tribes may hear,
And heaven's unerring throne approve.
III. 2.
Queen of the lyre, in thy retreat
The fairest flowers of Pindus glow;
The vine aspires to crown thy seat,
And myrtles round thy laurel grow.
Thy strings adapt their varied strain
To every pleasure, every pain,
Which mortal tribes were born to prove;
And strait our passions rise or fall,
As at the wind's imperious call
The ocean swells, the billows move.
III. 3.
When midnight listens o'er the slumbering earth,
Let me, o Muse, thy solemn whispers hear:
When morning sends her fragrant breezes forth,
With airy murmurs touch my opening ear.
And ever watchful at thy side,
Let wisdom's awful suffrage guide
The tenor of thy lay:
To her of old by Jove was given
To judge the various deeds of earth and heaven;
'Twas thine by gentle arts to win us to her sway.
IV. 1.
Oft as, to well-earn'd ease resign'd,
I quit the maze where science toils,
Do thou refresh my yielding mind
With all thy gay, delusive spoils.
But, o indulgent, come not nigh
The busy steps, the jealous eye
Of wealthy care or gainful age;
Whose barren souls thy joys disdain,
And hold as foes to reason's reign
Whome'er thy lovely works engage.
IV. 2.
When friendship and when letter'd mirth
Haply partake my simple board,
Then let thy blameless hand call forth
The music of the Teian chord.
Or if invok'd at softer hours,
O! seek with me the happy bowers
That hear Olympia's gentle tongue;
To beauty link'd with virtue's train,
To love devoid of jealous pain,
There let the Sapphic lute be strung.
IV. 3.
But when from envy and from death to claim
A hero bleeding for his native land;
When to throw incense on the vestal flame
Of liberty my genius gives command,
Nor Theban voice nor Lesbian lyre
From thee, o Muse, do I require;
While my presaging mind,
Conscious of powers she never knew,
Astonish'd grasps at things beyond her view,
Nor by another's fate submits to be confin'd.
poem by Mark Akenside
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The Vine
THE wine of Love is music,
And the feast of Love is song:
And when Love sits down to the banquet,
Love sits long:
Sits long and arises drunken,
But not with the feast and the wine;
He reeleth with his own heart,
That great, rich Vine.
poem by James Thomson
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Melody
Melody
By: Adam M. Snow
O' Melody, names like the angel's song;
music swaying around thine love
but of thy love my days be long;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
I long to hear thy voice, thy angelic voice
soothes away my hearts desire.
But it be that of love's choice
echoing upon thy voice.
Can thee forever love a lonely man such as I,
or do thee live on knowing not that of love,
or do thee walk passed and curse myself to die?
This feeling, this love O' Melody I cannot deny.
Let me hear thy choir of thy song;
a voice so deep calming the soul.
Let thy voice and passion be strong;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
Sing; let thy voice be heard across the Earth.
Let it pierce thy shadows.
Let the world see a new found birth
and the wonders its worth.
O' Melody, a song I longed after
to cleanse my immortal soul,
to feel the joy and laughter
and be with you hereafter.
O' Melody, names like the angel's song;
music swaying around thine love
but of thy love my days be long;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
O' Melody, play thy music for I love thee.
Thy lyrics be true thy heart,
Thy song be thy key
to set all souls free.
Let me hear thy choir of thy song;
a voice so deep calming the soul.
Let thy voice and passion be strong;
O' my Melody, sang my song.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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A Robin's Song
Throat attuned to noblest key,
That rejuvenates unnoted after each call note
Within the robin's inner flute's nostrils,
Without rush or rapture of wings,
Flew up unearthly, untaught music's airy voice,
Making the green dome re-echo
That gives space an expansion
Of the melting tone till sky came down
In breaths as lost cosmic chord
From the song's soul to me
With the sound of a great AMEN-
Above the thunder of hidden guns.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
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More Than A Melody
Verse One:
In the still of a moment; my voice can be heard
So listen carefully, there music inside each word
I am the Composer, of the melody of life
So, take upon my yoke learn of me, I'll be your guiding light
I am the Director, Be part of My symphony
I speak peace unto the storms; even the winds obey Me
Let me be your song, you'll never have to walk alone
I will help carry on, carry on
Verse 2:
I am the music within the inner ear
Hearken unto my voice, I'll declare, I'll draw near
I am the rythym to every beat of your heart
And, If you'll place your trust in me I'll never ever part
So, let Me be your song, you'll never have to walk alone
I will help you carry on, onnn
Pre-chorus:
When the notes are formed(They make)
They make a special sound(the music inside the music)
The music inside the music;(It lifts me when i'm down, i'm more than)
More than the beat of time(so much more)more than the lyric more than
More than just a melody(More than just a ryhme)
More than just a rhyme; more than just a melody;come unto me
Chorus:
Ohh,ohhhhh,ohhh,ohh
ohh,ohh,ohh,oh,ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
More than just a melody(i'm your closet friend i'll be there to the end)
More than just a rhyme(Shelter in the time of the storm;you'll never
have to be alone,now)
More than just a melody(trouble won't last always when you realize
that iam)
More than just a rhyme(you won't to live each day alone because I am
more)
More than just a melody(more than just a song to sing more than the
beat moree,morree)
More than just a melody(More than anything that you can spend me on, spend me on
i am)
More than just a melody(Morrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)
More than just a melody(Yes,Yes i'm more)
More than just a melody
More than just a melody
More than just a melody
This more than a melody is off the cd entitled "More Than A Melody(Not
"Best of Yolanda Adams)
song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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More Than A Melody
Verse One:
In the still of a moment; my voice can be heard
So listen carefully, there music inside each word
I am the Composer, of the melody of life
So, take upon my yoke learn of me, I'll be your guiding light
I am the Director, Be part of My symphony
I speak peace unto the storms; even the winds obey Me
Let me be your song, you'll never have to walk alone
I will help carry on, carry on
Verse 2:
I am the music within the inner ear
Hearken unto my voice, I'll declare, I'll draw near
I am the rythym to every beat of your heart
And, If you'll place your trust in me I'll never ever part
So, let Me be your song, you'll never have to walk alone
I will help you carry on, onnn
Pre-chorus:
When the notes are formed(They make)
They make a special sound(the music inside the music)
The music inside the music;(It lifts me when i'm down, i'm more than)
More than the beat of time(so much more)more than the lyric more than
More than just a melody(More than just a ryhme)
More than just a rhyme; more than just a melody;come unto me
Chorus:
Ohh,ohhhhh,ohhh,ohh
ohh,ohh,ohh,oh,ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
More than just a melody(i'm your closet friend i'll be there to the end)
More than just a rhyme(Shelter in the time of the storm;you'll never
have to be alone,now)
More than just a melody(trouble won't last always when you realize
that iam)
More than just a rhyme(you won't to live each day alone because I am
more)
More than just a melody(more than just a song to sing more than the
beat moree,morree)
More than just a melody(More than anything that you can spend me on, spend me on
i am)
More than just a melody(Morrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)
More than just a melody(Yes,Yes i'm more)
More than just a melody
More than just a melody
More than just a melody
This more than a melody is off the cd entitled "More Than A Melody(Not
"Best of Yolanda Adams)
song performed by by Yolanda Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Melody Cool
Lead voice by mavis staples
Ive seen a many bridges in my time and crossed every one of em
With no trouble at all (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
I had trials and tribulations, heartaches and pains (well thats alright)
Survived em all baby (uh huh, say it, say it!)
Hmph, Im still melody, and Im still cool
Melody cool...
They call me melody cool (melody, melody)
I was here long before u (melody, melody)
If ure good I will love ya, (melody) but Im nobodys fool (melody)
Im melody cool
When I was born there were tidal waves (melody, melody)
Whole town went under nobody saved (melody, melody)
At every funeral it rained every time I sang
Melody cool
I have been here much longer, (melody) longer than u (melody)
Im melody cool
Well now, everybody runnin round talkin bout saving souls
When they know good and plenty well they got enough trouble
Trying to save their own
(alright, say it, say it girl)
(melody...melody...melody)
Go on, go on.
Every woman and every man (melody)
One day they just got to understand (melody)
That if we play in the same key everything will be
Melody cool
(melody, melody, melody, melody)
Whats your name? (melody, melody)
New power wave your hand, everybody sing out across the land
Say hey hey hey (hey hey hey)
Say hey hey hey (hey hey hey)
Everybody say hey hey hey (hey hey hey)
They call me melody cool (melody, melody, melody)
Looka here young un
Let me give u a piece of good advice, (melody)
And I do get paid for counseling
It aint no big is and little us in my life
So thats why u see they call me melody cool (melody, melody cool, melody)
I was here long before u (melody, long before u)
If ure good (melody) I will love u but Im nobodys fool (melody)
Im melody cool
(melody, melody cool, melody... long before u)
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Melody
The youth in the woods spent the whole day long,
The whole day long;
For there he had heard such a wonderful song,
Wonderful song.
Willow-wood gave him a flute so fair,
A flute so fair,--
To try, if within were the melody rare,
Melody rare.
Melody whispered and said: "I am here!"
Said: "I am here!"
But while he was listening, it fled from his ear,
Fled from his ear.
Oft when he slept, it to him crept,
It to him crept;
And over his forehead in love it swept,
In love it swept.
When he would seize it, his sleep took flight,
His sleep took flight;
The melody hung in the pallid night,
In the pallid night.
"Lord, O my God, take me therein,
Take me therein!
The melody rare all my soul doth win,
My soul doth win."
Answered the Lord: "'T is your friend alone,
Your friend alone;
Though never an hour you it shall own,
You it shall own."
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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The sound of music.......
The sound of music gives us so much emotions
and that plays a melody deep in our heart greatly
All the sound on the earth are like music
and the music brings love and enjoyment to our life
Music expresses universal language of the world
and brings people together where ever they live
The music is the best gift of God to all of us
where its fills our soul with peace and mind with creativity
Every music has its own rhythm
and it's creates a great sound of music
Music in the mountain brings peace in our heart
and music in the ocean fills our soul with love
When I hear the sound of music
then I begin to write a song as a soul of music
If you don't love the sound of music
then your soul will be unsung
Because music can put life in to a dead man
Ravi Sathasivam / Sri Lanka
Copyright @2006 Ravi Sathasivam
poem by Ravi Sathasivam
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Autumnal Nightfall
Round Autumn's mouldering urn
Loud mourns the chill and cheerless gale,
When nightfall shades the quiet vale
And stars in beauty burn.
'Tis the year's eventide.
The wind, like one that sighs in pain
O?er joys that ne'er will bloom again
Mourns on the far hillside.
And yet my pensive eye
Rests on the faint blue mountain long;
And for the fairy-land of song,
That lies beyond, I sigh.
The moon unveils her brow;
In the mid-sky her urn glows bright,
And in her sad and mellowing light
The valley sleeps below.
Upon the hazel gray
The lyre of Autumn hangs unstrung
And o?er its tremulous chords are flung
The fringes of decay.
I stand deep musing here,
Beneath the dark and motionless beech,
Whilst wandering winds of nightfall reach
My melancholy ear.
The air breathes chill and free:
A spirit in soft music calls
From Autumn's gray and moss-grown halls,
And round her withered tree.
The hoar and mantled oak,
With moss and twisted ivy brown,
Bends in its lifeless beauty down
Where weeds the fountain choke.
That fountain's hollow voice
Echoes the sound of precious things;
Of early feeling's tuneful springs
Choked with our blighted joys.
Leaves, that the night-wind bears
To earth's cold bosom with a sign,
Are types of our mortality,
And of our fading years.
The tree that shades the plain,
Wasting and hoar as time decays,
Spring shall renew with cheerful days,--
But not my joys again.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The harp the Monarch Minstrel swept
I
The harp the Monarch Minstrel swept,
The King of men, the lov'd of Heav'n,
Which Music hallowed while she wept
O'er tones her heart of hearts had giv'n,
Redoubled be her tears, its chords are riv'n!
It soften'd men of iron mould,
It gave them virtues not their own;
No ear so dull, no soul so cold,
That felt not—fired not to the tone,
Till David's lyre grew mightier than his throne!
II
It told the triumphs of our King—
It wafted glory to our God—
It made our gladdened vallies ring—
The cedars bow—the mountains nod—
Its sound aspired to Heaven and there abode!
Since then—though heard on earth no more—
Devotion and her daughter Love
Still bid the bursting spirit soar
To sounds that seem as from above
In dreams that day's broad light can not remove.
poem by Byron from The Hebrew Melodies (1815)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sons Of The Silent Age
Sons of the silent age
Stand on platforms blank looks and note books
Sit in back rows of city limits
Lay in bed coming and going on easy terms
Sons of the silent age
Pace their rooms like a cells dimensions
Rise for a year or two then make war
Search through their one inch thoughts
Then decide it couldnt be done
Baby, Ill never let you go
All I see is all I know
Lets take another way down (sons of sound and sons of sound)
Baby, baby, Ill never let you down
I cant stand another sound
Lets find another way (sons of sound and sons of sound)
Sons of the silent age
Listen to tracks by sam therapy and king dice
Sons of the silent age
Pick up in bars and cry only once
Sons of the silent age
Make love only once but dream and dream
Dont walk, they just glide in and out of life
They never die, they just go to sleep one day
Baby, I wont ever let you go
All I see is all I know
Lets take another way down (sons of sound and sons of sound)
Oh baby, baby, baby, I wont ever let you down
I cant stand another sound
Lets take another way in (sons of sound and sons of sound)
(sons of sound and sons of sound)
Baby, baby, baby, fire away!
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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