Emperors And Kings, How Oft Have Temples Rung
EMPERORS and Kings, how oft have temples rung
With impious thanksgiving, the Almighty's scorn!
How oft above their altars have been hung
Trophies that led the good and wise to mourn
Triumphant wrong, battle of battle born,
And sorrow that to fruitless sorrow clung!
Now, from Heaven-sanctioned victory, Peace is sprung;
In this firm hour Salvation lifts her horn.
Glory to arms! But, conscious that the nerve
Of popular reason, long mistrusted, freed
Your thrones, ye Powers, from duty fear to swerve!
Be just, be grateful; nor, the oppressor's creed
Reviving, heavier chastisement deserve
Than ever forced unpitied hearts to bleed.
poem by William Wordsworth
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Related quotes
Hung Up On You
Orbison/melson
Hooked on the touch of your hand, high on how you understand
Lost when you whispered hello ,something in your eyes said dont go
I just had to stay, couldnt go away from you, you knew what to do to get me
Hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you
You knew, the first time we met that I could never forget
You held me so close to you, I could never get over you
You were so aware how to make me care and keep me
Hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you
Yeah, you got me where you wanted me, I am where I really want to be
Hung up,hung up,hung up on you
Im so hung up on you that I dont know what I would do without you
Oh it will take me forever to get enough of you and I cant help it if im
Hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you baby,hung up on you
Hung up on you,hung up on you...
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Even Kings and emperors with heaps of wealth and vast dominion cannot compare with an ant filled with the love of God.
quote by Guru Nanak
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Holiday poem-Give thanks
Thanksgiving, think about this oustanding holiday
give thanks in a very special way
you should be thankful for everything you have
dance, sing, be jolly, and laugh
Thanksgiving isnt like the christmas season,
but it is a goood reason
to give thanks
HAPPY THANKSGIVING! !
poem by Maria Herron
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Yesterday we obeyed kings and bent our necks before emperors. But today we kneel only to truth, follow only beauty, and obey only love.
quote by Kahlil Gibran
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The people have a right supremeTo make their kings, for Kings are made for them.All Empire is no more than Pow'r in Trust,Which when resum'd, can be no longer just.Successionm for the general good design'd,In its own wrong a Nation cannot bind.
quote by John Dryden
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As a boy I used to go to the Chamber of Horrors at the annual fair, to look at the wax figures of Emperors and Kings, of heroes and murderers of the day. The dead now had that same unreality, which shocks without arousing pity.
quote by Ernst Toller
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Thanksgiving
Time to put our problems aside and get along for
Thanksgiving
With family, friends, and relatives
We all have something to be thankful for
I'm thankful for my family, friends, and God
Without them I won't be here today
I feel so lucky and grateful for what I have
Some of us are less fortunate and don't get to celebrate
Thanksgiving
It time to give back
You will feel great about yourself
It make you think about life
Some of us don't care about this holiday and we should stop and think and care
That we all are so forunate and grateful for what we have
Some of our tradition we do are watch football, family dinner or party
Thanksgiving
It time when we all get together, laugh, eat, smile, and have a great time
Thanksgiving
Gobble, gobble
I wish you all Happy
Thanksgiving
I hope you all have wonderful time because I'm going to have fun, and be thankful for what I got now
Thanksgiving
poem by Christina Phan
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Will you permit the sacred fire of liberty, brought by your fathers from the venerable temples of Britain, to be quenched and trodden out on the simple altars they have raised?
quote by Joseph Howe
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Wise kings generally have wise counselors; and he must be a wise man himself who is capable of distinguishing one.
Horace: Book II. Ode 9
Clouds do not always veil the skies,
Nor showers immerse the verdant plain;
Nor do the billows always rise,
Or storms afflict the ruffled main.
Nor, Valgius, on the Armenian shores
Do the chain'd waters always freeze;
Not always furious Boreas roars,
Or bends with violent force the trees.
But you are ever drown'd in tears,
For Mystes dead you ever mourn;
No setting Sol can ease your cares,
But find you sad at his return.
The wise experienced Grecian sage
Mourn'd not Antilochus so long;
Nor did King Priam's hoary age
So much lament his slaughter'd son.
Leave off, at length, these woman's sighs,
Augustus' number'd trophies sing,
To whom all nations tribute bring.
Niphates rolls an humbler wave,
At length th' undaunted Scythian yields,
Content to live the Roman slave,
And scarce forsakes his native fields.
poem by Samuel Johnson
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The Liberty Bell
The Liberty Bell which is a symbol of freedom
cracked as it was being rung.
Maybe its founders thought it would last
as it was being hung.
But the bell itself, did it know
that someday our liberty would crack?
Because it's inanimate doesn't mean it couldn't feel
that our nation would come under attack.
And so the bell that should have stayed solid
and be rung every day,
quietly cries and feels for its nation
as it sits on display.
Many file by it and never ask why
our liberties are tearing apart like the bell?
Maybe it's because we've never learned
what it's like in a living hell?
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Not All The Angels Of The Lord Are On The Highest Rung
Not all the angels of the Lord are on the highest rung-
I ascended on the ladder
But have not touched the top rung
And will not -
An angel of the middle and the bottom rows
I nonetheless sing out my praises to God -
While trying to climb higher,
Yet somewhere always
no matter how high I think I come
never touching the top rung.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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You Dont Have To Be Old To Be Wise
Ive had enough of being programmed
And told what I ought to do
Lets get one thing straight
Ill choose my fate
And its got nothing to do with you
The years are flying by and its time I got high
Took a sample of the good things in life
This is a chance
Im gonna take
Gonna kick out trouble and strife
I grow sick and tired of the same old lies
Might look a little young
So whats wrong
You dont have to be old to be wise
No I dont care that the people stare
Accuse me of going mad
Just get a long hard look into the mirror
Then, tell me now whos been had
The way things are going I wont get to show em
Go single all the times up to me
So its off with the ties
No compromise
Wanna taste what its like to be free
I grow sick and tired of the same old lies
Might look a little young
So whats wrong
You dont have to be old to be wise
I grow sick and tired of the same old lies
Might look a little young
So whats wrong
You dont have to be old to be wise
Alright, Im gonna gather my things
Go through the door
Live and let live from now on
At last a free hand, no longer pre-planned
I got a will of my own
I go as I please
Fend for myself
Pull all the stops, throw the dice
Out on my own, gonna go it alone
When I need it
Then Ill ask for advice
You dont have to be old to be wise
You dont have to be old to be wise
You dont have to be old to be wise
You dont have to be old to be wise
You dont have to be old to be wise
You dont have to be old to be wise
You dont have to be old to be wise
(fade)
song performed by by Judas Priest
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Fragment: Milton's Spirit
I dreamed that Milton's spirit rose, and took
From life's green tree his Uranian lute;
And from his touch sweet thunder flowed, and shook
All human things built in contempt of man,--
And sanguine thrones and impious altars quaked,
Prisons and citadels...
poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Living Out Thanksgiving
One's thanksgiving that's truly rife, comes from a Spirit filled life,
It is not about what we deserve, but, all about The God we serve;
It's not about things on this sod, but, a relationship with our God,
All good things come from above, from God, in unchanging love.
We can display real thanksgiving, through the choice of our living,
That choice between Spirit or flesh, knowing the two do not mesh,
For one causes unrighteousness, while one fuels our thankfulness,
So to live for God is our choice, so that in our God we can rejoice.
We can walk in The Wisdom of, The Lord God, Who reigns above,
While we walk in The Spirit of Christ, as The Savior guides our life,
Walking in the light of His Word, applying all the Truth we've heard,
As more to God, of life, we give, in true Thankfulness we can live.
Fear is the beginning of Wisdom, as we seek first God's Kingdom,
While in God's Spirit we abide, His Word then becomes our guide,
With His Word as our guiding light, in a world where wrong is right.
While yielding to God, not to sin, He fills us with songs and hymns.
When thanksgiving fills our heart, God's Love to others we impart,
When it's God we choose to serve, we get more than we deserve,
When thanking God along the way, true joy and peace fills the day,
When filled with joy and singing, our life displays real Thanksgiving.
(Copyright ©11/2012)
Happy Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving is one Holiday
where your taste buds get the gift
There is lots of cooking
the smell of pie is adrift
There will be turkey and dressing,
cranberries and other side dishes you adore
Dinner rolls will top your plate
And in pain, you go back for more
Some will try to save room
for that special pumpkin pie
And have a slice, room or not
with each bite just say, my oh my
Most will loosen their belt
or maybe undo a button or snap
Then head for the couch
and a Thanksgiving Day nap
There will be leftovers
we will enjoy and share
For on Thanksgiving
no cupboard should be bare
With these simple words
I wish you and yours the best
And I hope in this time of uncertainty
Thanksgiving, passes the test
Terry M
Thebais - Book One - part III
Oh race confed’rate into crimes, that prove
Triumphant o’er th’ eluded rage of Jove!
This wearied arm can scarce the bolt sustain,
And unregarded thunder rolls in vain:
Th’ o’erlaboured Cyclops from his task retires,
Th’ Æolian forge exhausted of its fires.
For this, I suffered Phœbus’ steeds to stray,
And the mad ruler to misguide the day;
When the wide earth to heaps of ashes turned,
And heaven itself the wand’ring chariot burned.
For this, my brother of the wat’ry reign
Released th’ impetuous sluices of the main:
But flames consumed, and billows raged in vain.
Two races now, allied to Jove, offend;
To punish these, see Jove himself descend.
The Theban kings their line from Cadmus trace,
From godlike Perseus those of Argive race.
Unhappy Cadmus’ fate who does not know,
And the long series of succeeding woe?
How oft the furies, from the deeps of night,
Arose, and mixed with men in mortal fight:
Th’ exulting mother, stained with filial blood;
The savage hunter and the haunted wood;
The direful banquet why should I proclaim,
And crimes that grieve the trembling gods to name?
Ere I recount the sins of these profane,
The sun would sink into the western main,
And rising, gild the radiant east again.
Have we not seen (the blood of Laius shed)
The murd’ring son ascend his parent’s bed,
Through violated nature force his way,
And stain the sacred womb where once lie lay?
Yet now in darkness and despair he groans,
And for the crimes of guilty fate atones.
His sons with scorn their eyeless father view,
Insult his wounds, and make them bleed anew.
Thy curse, oh Œdipus, just heav’n alarms,
And sets th’ avenging thunderer in arms.
I from the root thy guilty race will tear,
And give the nations to the waste of war.
Adrastus soon, with gods averse, shall join
In dire alliance with the Theban line
Hence strife shall rise, and mortal war succeed;
The guilty realms of Tantalus shall bleed;
Fixed is their doom; this all-rememb’ring breast
Yet harbours vengeance for the tyrant’s feast.”
He said; and thus the queen of heav’n returned;
(With sudden grief her lab’ring bosom burned)
“Must I, whose cares Phoroneus’ tow’rs defend,
Must I, oh Jove, in bloody wars contend?
Thou know’st those regions my protection claim,
Glorious in arms, in riches, and in fame:
Though there the fair Egyptian heifer fed,
And there deluded Argus slept, and bled;
Though there the brazen tower was stormed of old,
When Jove descended in almighty gold:
Yet I can pardon those obscurer rapes,
Those bashful crimes disguised in borrowed shapes;
But Thebes, witero shining in colostial charms
Thou cam’st triumphant to a mortal’s arms,
When all my glories o’er her limbs were spread,
And blazing light’nings danced around her bed;
Cursed Thebes the vengeance it deserves, may prove:
Ah why should Argos feel the rage of Jove?
Yet since thou wilt thy sister-queen control,
Since still the lust of discord fires thy soul,
Go, raze my Samos, let Mycene fall,
And level with the dust the Spartan wall;
No more let mortals Juno’s pow’r invoke,
Her fanes no more with eastern incense smoke,
Nor victims sink beneath the sacred stroke;
But to your Isis all my rites transfer,
Let altars blaze and temples smoke for her;
For her, through Egypt’s fruitful clime renowned
Let weeping Nilus hear the timbrel sound.
But if thou must reform the stubborn times,
Avenging on the sons the father’s crimes,
And from the long records of distant age
Derive incitements to renew thy rage;
Say, from what period then has Jove designed
To date his vengeance; to what bounds confined?
Begin from thence, where first Alpheus hides
His wand’ring stream, and through the briny tides
Unmixed to his Sicilian river glides.
Thy own Arcadians there the thunder claim,
Whose impious rites disgrace thy mighty name;
Who raise thy temples where the chariot stood
Of fierce Œnomaus, defiled with blood:
Where once his steeds their savage banquet found,
And human bones yet whiten all the ground.
Say, can those honours please; and canst thou love
Presumptuous Crete that boasts the tomb of Jove?
And shall not Tantalus’s kingdoms share
Thy wife and sister’s tutelary care?
Reverse, O Jove, thy too severe decree,
Nor doom to war a race derived from thee;
On impious realms and barb’rous kings impose
Thy plagues, and curse ‘em with such sons as those.”
Thus, in reproach and pray’r, the queen expressed
The rage and grief contending in her breast;
Unmoved remained the ruler of the sky,
And from his throne returned this stern reply:
“‘Twas thus I deemed thy haughty soul would bear
The dire, though just, revenge which I prepare
Against a nation thy peculiar care:
No less Dione might for Thebes contend,
Nor Ilacehus less his native town defend;
Yet these in silence see the fates fulfil
Their work, and rev’rence our superior will.
poem by Pablius Papinius Statius
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The governments of the present day have to deal not merely with other governments, with emperors, kings and ministers, but also with the secret societies which have everywhere their unscrupulous agents, and can at the last moment upset all the governments' plans.
quote by Benjamin Disraeli
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Somethins Wrong With The Beaver
(kinky friedman & panama red)
She climbed the stairs that mornin
Found him rather pale
His eyes they were the color
Of half-drunk ginger ale.
Faithful as a magnavox
Hung-up on a song
She cried down to the breakfast nook,
ward, theres something wrong.
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Somethins wrong with the beaver
The beaver I believe-uh is gone.
Beaver was a dreamer,
Never got it right.
Died in livin color,
Lived in black an white.
Faithful as a magnavox
Hung-up on a song
She cries down to the breakfast nook,
ward, theres something wrong.
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ward!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
The beaver I believe-uh is gone.
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ward!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Lord!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ooh!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Ha!
Somethins wrong with the beaver
Beaver, huh!
Somethins wrong with the beaver.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
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Unholy Philosophy or Unholy Mind!
Most often pages of history,
Fight between mighty,
Ended in bloodshed,
Emperors sat not on throne,
But they sat on heap of corpse,
Their coronation day or
mourning day
of Humanity!
With the blood stained hands
wore crown with immoral minds!
Who dared to oppose power of swords!
A few like Ashoka or Alexander,
tortured by own Conscience,
Moved by horror of blood shed,
Put their swords down, bowed before words!
Most often it's fight between egos,
or fight between right and wrong,
Nay both are wrong,
A fight between wrong and wrong!
What is the use in fighting here, power hungers should learn,
Men with corrupt mind can't be right,
And when their hands gain might,
They will always start fight!
Frustrations and fury, love and hate,
All has source indeterminate,
Unholy politics they say,
Unholy philosophy they cry,
Why can't they say,
Human mind is sporadic and stray?
Socrates made to drink Hemlock,
Always differences when ended in deadlock,
One wise should giveup and save life,
Someday will come, clouds disperse,
And earthshines with light of Truth,
Wise head should know, the creator,
Wants to create models here,
Each model is made to teach something,
And teach to evolving mind of humanity,
May be an emperor or a philosopher,
All has to end their story here,
Will have to go back bear handed there!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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