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Best Famous Dum Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Dum poems. This is a select list of the best famous Dum poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Dum poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of dum poems.

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Written by Emily Dickinson | Create an image from this poem

Sic transit gloria mundi

 "Sic transit gloria mundi,"
"How doth the busy bee,"
"Dum vivimus vivamus,"
I stay mine enemy!

Oh "veni, vidi, vici!"
Oh caput cap-a-pie!
And oh "memento mori"
When I am far from thee!

Hurrah for Peter Parley!
Hurrah for Daniel Boone!
Three cheers, sir, for the gentleman
Who first observed the moon!

Peter, put up the sunshine;
Patti, arrange the stars;
Tell Luna, tea is waiting,
And call your brother Mars!

Put down the apple, Adam,
And come away with me,
So shalt thou have a pippin
From off my father's tree!

I climb the "Hill of Science,"
I "view the landscape o'er;"
Such transcendental prospect,
I ne'er beheld before!

Unto the Legislature
My country bids me go;
I'll take my india rubbers,
In case the wind should blow!

During my education,
It was announced to me
That gravitation, stumbling,
Fell from an apple tree!

The earth upon an axis
Was once supposed to turn,
By way of a gymnastic
In honor of the sun!

It was the brave Columbus,
A sailing o'er the tide,
Who notified the nations
Of where I would reside!

Mortality is fatal --
Gentility is fine,
Rascality, heroic,
Insolvency, sublime!

Our Fathers being weary,
Laid down on Bunker Hill;
And tho' full many a morning,
Yet they are sleeping still, --

The trumpet, sir, shall wake them,
In dreams I see them rise,
Each with a solemn musket
A marching to the skies!

A coward will remain, Sir,
Until the fight is done;
But an immortal hero
Will take his hat, and run!

Good bye, Sir, I am going;
My country calleth me;
Allow me, Sir, at parting,
To wipe my weeping e'e.
In token of our friendship Accept this "Bonnie Doon," And when the hand that plucked it Hath passed beyond the moon, The memory of my ashes Will consolation be; Then, farewell, Tuscarora, And farewell, Sir, to thee!


Written by Emily Dickinson | Create an image from this poem

Sic transit gloria mundi

 "Sic transit gloria mundi,"
"How doth the busy bee,"
"Dum vivimus vivamus,"
I stay mine enemy!

Oh "veni, vidi, vici!"
Oh caput cap-a-pie!
And oh "memento mori"
When I am far from thee!

Hurrah for Peter Parley!
Hurrah for Daniel Boone!
Three cheers, sir, for the gentleman
Who first observed the moon!

Peter, put up the sunshine;
Patti, arrange the stars;
Tell Luna, tea is waiting,
And call your brother Mars!

Put down the apple, Adam,
And come away with me,
So shalt thou have a pippin
From off my father's tree!

I climb the "Hill of Science,"
I "view the landscape o'er;"
Such transcendental prospect,
I ne'er beheld before!

Unto the Legislature
My country bids me go;
I'll take my india rubbers,
In case the wind should blow!

During my education,
It was announced to me
That gravitation, stumbling,
Fell from an apple tree!

The earth upon an axis
Was once supposed to turn,
By way of a gymnastic
In honor of the sun!

It was the brave Columbus,
A sailing o'er the tide,
Who notified the nations
Of where I would reside!

Mortality is fatal --
Gentility is fine,
Rascality, heroic,
Insolvency, sublime!

Our Fathers being weary,
Laid down on Bunker Hill;
And tho' full many a morning,
Yet they are sleeping still, --

The trumpet, sir, shall wake them,
In dreams I see them rise,
Each with a solemn musket
A marching to the skies!

A coward will remain, Sir,
Until the fight is done;
But an immortal hero
Will take his hat, and run!

Good bye, Sir, I am going;
My country calleth me;
Allow me, Sir, at parting,
To wipe my weeping e'e.
In token of our friendship Accept this "Bonnie Doon," And when the hand that plucked it Hath passed beyond the moon, The memory of my ashes Will consolation be; Then, farewell, Tuscarora, And farewell, Sir, to thee!
Written by Andrew Marvell | Create an image from this poem

A Letter To Doctor Ingelo then With My Lord Whitlock Amba

 Quid facis Arctoi charissime transfuga coeli,
Ingele, proh sero cognite, rapte cito?
Num satis Hybernum defendis pellibus Astrum,
Qui modo tam mollis nec bene firmus eras?
Quae Gentes Hominum, quae sit Natura Locorum,
Sint Homines, potius dic ibi sintre Loca?
Num gravis horrisono Polus obruit omnia lapsu,
Jungitur & praeceps Mundas utraque nive?
An melius canis horrescit Campus Aristis,
Amuius Agricolis & redit Orbe labor?
Incolit, ut fertur, saevam Gens mitior Oram,
Pace vigil, Bello strenua, justa Foro.
Quin ibi sunt Urbes, atque alta Palatia Regum, Musarumque domus, & sua Templa Deo.
Nam regit Imperio populum Christina ferocem, Et dare jura potest regia Virgo viris.
Utque trahit rigidum Magnes Aquilone Metallum, Gandet eam Soboles ferrea sponte sequii.
Dic quantum liceat fallaci credere Famae, Invida num taceat plura, sonet ve loquax.
At, si vera fides, Mundi melioris ab ortu, Saecula Christinae nulla tulere parem.
Ipsa licet redeat (nostri decus orbis) Eliza, Qualis nostra tamen quantaque Eliza fuit.
Vidimus Effigiem, mistasque Coloribus Umbras: Sic quoque Sceptripotens, sic quoque visa Dea.
Augustam decorant (raro concordia) frontem Majestas & Amor, Forma Pudorque simul.
Ingens Virgineo spirat Gustavus in ore: Agnoscas animos, fulmineumque Patrem.
Nulla suo nituit tam lucida Stella sub Axe; Non Ea quae meruit Crimine Nympha Polum.
Ah quoties pavidum demisit conscia Lumen, Utque suae timuit Parrhasis Ora Deae! Et, simulet falsa ni Pictor imagine Vultus, Delia tam similis nec fuit ipsa sibi.
Ni quod inornati Triviae sint forte Capilli, Sollicita sed buic distribuantur Acu.
Scilicet ut nemo est illa reverentior aequi; Haud ipsas igitur fert sine Lege Comas.
Gloria sylvarum pariter communis utrique Est, & perpetuae Virginitatis Honos.
Sic quoque Nympharum supereminet Agmina collo, Fertque Choros Cynthi per Juga, per Nives.
Haud aliter pariles Ciliorum contrahit Arcus Acribus ast Oculis tela subesse putes.
Luminibus dubites an straverit illa Sagittis Quae foret exuviis ardua colla Feram.
Alcides humeros coopertus pelle Nemaea Haud ita labentis sustulit Orbis Onus.
Heu quae Cervices subnectunt Pectora tales.
Frigidiora Gelu, candidiora Nive.
Caetera non licuit, sed vix ea tota, videre; Nam chau fi rigido stant Adamante Sinus.
Seu chlamys Artifici nimium succurrerit auso, Sicque imperfectum fugerit impar Opus: Sive tribus spernat Victrix certare Deabus, Et pretium formae nec spoliata ferat.
Junonis properans & clara Trophaea Minervae; Mollia nam Veneris praemia nosse piget.
Hinc neque consuluit fugitivae prodiga Formae, Nectimuit seris invigilasse Libris.
Insommem quoties Nymphae monuere sequaces Decedet roseis heu color ille Genis.
Jamque vigil leni cessit Philomela sopori, Omnibus & Sylvis conticuere Ferae.
Acrior illa tamen pergit, Curasque fatigat: Tanti est doctorum volvere scripta Virum.
Et liciti quae sint moderamina discere Regni, Quid fuerit, quid sit, noscere quicquid erit.
Sic quod in ingenuas Gothus peccaverit Artes Vindicat, & studiis expiat Una suis.
Exemplum dociles imitantur nobile Gentes, Et geminis Infans imbuit Ora sonis.
Transpositos Suecis credas migrasse Latinos, Carmine Romuleo sic strepit omne Nemus.
Upsala nec priscis impar memoratur Athenis, Aegidaque & Currus hic sua Pallas habet.
Illinc O quales liceat sperasse Liquores, Quum Dea praesideat fontibus ipsa sacris! Illic Lacte ruant illic & flumina Melle, Fulvaque inauratam tingat Arena Salam.
Upsalides Musae nunc & majora conemus, Quaeque mihi Famae non levis Aura tulit.
Creditur haud ulli Christus signasse suorum Occultam gemina de meliore Notam.
Quemque tenet charo descriptum Nomine semper, Non minus exculptum Pectore fida refert.
Sola haec virgineas depascit Flamma Medullas, Et licito pergit solvere corda foco.
Tu quoque Sanctorum fastos Christina sacrabis, Unica nec Virgo Volsiniensis erit.
Discite nunc Reges (Majestas proxima coelo) Discite proh magnos hinc coluisse Deos.
Ah pudeat Tanitos puerilia fingere coepta, Nugas nescio quas, & male quaerere Opes.
Acer Equo cunctos dum praeterit illa Britanno, Et pecoris spolium nescit inerme sequi.
Ast Aquilam poscit Germano pellere Nido, Deque Palatino Monte fugare Lupam.
Vos etiam latos in praedam jungite Campos, Impiaque arctatis cingite Lustra Plagis.
Victor Oliverus nudum Caput exerit Armis, Ducere sive sequi nobile laetus Iter.
Qualis jam Senior Solymae Godfredus ad Arces, Spina cui canis floruit alba comis.
Et lappos Christina potest & solvere Finnos, Ultima quos Boreae carcere Claustra premunt.
Aeoliis quales Venti fremuere sub antris, Et tentant Montis corripuisse moras.
Hanc Dea si summa demiserit Arce procellam Quam gravis Austriacis Hesperiisque cadat! Omnia sed rediens olim narraveris Ipse; Nec reditus spero tempora longa petit.
Non ibi lenta pigro stringuntur frigore Verba, Solibus, & tandem Vere liquanda novo.
Sed radiis hyemem Regina potentior urit; Haecque magis solvit, quam ligat illa Polum.
Dicitur & nostros moerens andisse Labores, Fortis & ingenuam Gentis amasse Fidem.
Oblatae Batavam nec paci commodat Aurem; Nec versat Danos insidiosa dolos.
Sed pia festinat mutatis Foedera rebus, Et Libertatem quae dominatur amat.
Digna cui Salomon meritos retulisset honores, Et Saba concretum Thure cremasset Iter.
Hanc tua, sed melius, celebraverit, Ingele, Musa; Et labor est vestrae debitus ille Lyrae.
Nos sine te frustra Thamisis saliceta subimus, Sparsaque per steriles Turba vagamur Agros.
Et male tentanti querulum respondet Avena: Quin & Rogerio dissiluere fides.
Haec tamen absenti memores dictamus Amico, Grataque speramus qualiacumque fore.
Written by J R R Tolkien | Create an image from this poem

The Man in the Moon Came Down Too Soon

 There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill.
The ostler has a tipsy cat that plays a five-stringed fiddle; And up and down he saws his bow Now squeaking high, now purring low, now sawing in the middle.
The landlord keeps a little dog that is mighty fond of jokes; When there's good cheer among the guests, He cocks an ear at all the jests and laughs until he chokes.
They also keep a hornéd cow as proud as any queen; But music turns her head like ale, And makes her wave her tufted tail and dance upon the green.
And O! the rows of silver dishes and the store of silver spoons! For Sunday there's a special pair, And these they polish up with care on Saturday afternoons.
The Man in the Moon was drinking deep, and the cat began to wail; A dish and a spoon on the table danced, The cow in the garden madly pranced and the little dog chased his tail.
The Man in the Moon took another mug, and then rolled beneath his chair; And there he dozed and dreamed of ale, Till in the sky the stars were pale, and dawn was in the air.
Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat: 'The white horses of the Moon, They neigh and champ their silver bits; But their master's been and drowned his wits, and the Sun'll be rising soon!' So the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle, a jig that would wake the dead: He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune, While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon: 'It's after three!' he said.
They rolled the Man slowly up the hill and bundled him into the Moon, While his horses galloped up in rear, And the cow came capering like a deer, and a dish ran up with the spoon.
Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle; the dog began to roar, The cow and the horses stood on their heads; The guests all bounded from their beds and danced upon the floor.
With a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke! the cow jumped over the Moon, And the little dog laughed to see such fun, And the Saturday dish went off at a run with the silver Sunday spoon.
The round Moon rolled behind the hill, as the Sun raised up her head.
She* hardly believed her fiery eyes; For though it was day, to her surprise they all went back to bed!
Written by J R R Tolkien | Create an image from this poem

Durin

 The world was young, the mountains green,
No stain yet on the Moon was seen,
No words were laid on stream or stone,
When Durin woke and walked along.
He named the nameless hills and delles; He drank from yet untasted wells; He stopped and looked in Mirrormere, And saw a crown of stars appear, As gems upon a silver thread, Above the shadow of his head.
The world was fair, the mountains tall, In Elder Days before the fall Of mighty kings in Nargothrond And Gondolin, who now beyond The Western Seas have passed away.
The world was fair in Durin's Day.
A king he was on carven throne In many-pillared halls of stone With golden roof and silver floor, And runes of power upon the door.
The light of sun and star and moon In shining lamps of crystal hewn Undimmed by cloud or shade of night There shown for ever fair and bright.
There hammer on the anvil smote, There chisel clove, and graver wrote; There forged was blade, and bound was hilt; The delver mined, the mason built.
There beryl, pearl, and opal pale, And metal wrought like fishes' mail, Buckler and corslet, axe and sword, And shining spears were laid in hoard.
Unwearied then were Durin's folk; Beneath the mountain music woke: The harpers harped, the minstrels sang, And at the gates the trumpets rang.
The world is grey, the mountains old, The forge's fire is ashen-cold; No harp is wrung, no hammer falls: The darkness dwells in Durin's halls; The shadow lies upon his tomb In Moria, in Khazad-dum.
But still the sunken stars appear In dark and windless Mirrormere; There lies his crown in water deep.
Till Durin wakes again from sleep.


Written by Andrew Marvell | Create an image from this poem

Hortus

 Quisnam adeo, mortale genus, praecordia versat:
Heu Palmae, Laurique furor, vel simplicis Herbae!
Arbor ut indomitos ornet vix una labores;
Tempora nec foliis praecingat tota maglignis.
Dum simud implexi, tranquillae ad ferta Quiaetis, Omnigeni coeunt Flores, integraque Sylva.
Alma Quies, teneo te! & te Germana Quietis Simplicitas! Vos ergo diu per Templa, per urbes, Quaesivi, Regum perque alta Palatia frustra.
Sed vos Hotrorum per opaca siluentia longe Celarant Plantae virides, & concolor Umbra.
O! mibi si vestros liceat violasse recessus.
Erranti, lasso, & vitae melioris anhelo, Municipem servate novum, votoque potitum, Frondosae Cives optate in florea Regna.
Me quoque, vos Musae, &, te conscie testor Apollo, Non Armenta juvant hominum, Circique boatus, Mugitusve Fori; sed me Penetralia veris, Horroresque trahunt muti, & Consortia sola.
Virgineae quem non suspendit Gratia formae? Quam candore Nives vincentum, Ostrumque rubore, Vestra tamen viridis superet (me judice) Virtus.
Nec foliis certare Comae, nec Brachia ramis, Nec possint tremulos voces aequare susurros.
Ah quoties saevos vidi (quis credat?) Amantes Sculpentes Dominae potiori in cortice nomen? Nec puduit truncis inscribere vulnera sacris.
Ast Ego, si vestras unquam temeravero stirpes, Nulla Neaera, Chloe, Faustina, Corynna, legetur: In proprio sed quaeque libro signabitur Arbos.
O charae Platanus, Cyparissus, Populus, Ulnus! Hic Amor, exutis crepidatus inambulat alis, Enerves arcus & stridula tela reponens, Invertitque faces, nec se cupit usque timeri; Aut experrectus jacet, indormitque pharetrae; Non auditurus quanquam Cytherea vocarit; Nequitias referuut nec somnia vana priores.
Laetantur Superi, defervescente Tyranno, Et licet experti toties Nymphasque Deasque, Arbore nunc melius potiuntur quisque cupita.
Jupiter annosam, neglecta conjuge, Quercum Deperit; baud alia doluit sic pellice.
Juno.
Lemniacum temerant vestigia nulla Cubile, Nic Veneris Mavors meminit si Fraxinus adsit.
Formosae pressit Daphnes vestigia Phaebus Ut fieret Laurus; sed nil quaesiverat ultra.
Capripes & peteret quod Pan Syringa fugacem, Hoc erat ut Calamum posset reperire Sonorum.
Note: Desunt multa.
Nec tu, Opisex horti, grato sine carmine abibis: Qui brevibus plantis, & laeto flore, notasti Crescentes horas, atque intervalla diei.
Sol ibi candidior fragrantia Signa pererrat; Proque truci Tauro, stricto pro forcipe Cancri, Securis violaeque rosaeque allabitur umbris.
Sedula quin & Apis, mellito intenta labori, Horologo sua pensa thymo Signare videtur.
Temporis O suaves lapsus! O Otia sana! O Herbis dignae numerari & Floribus Horae!
Written by John Milton | Create an image from this poem

At A Vacation Exercise In The Colledge Part Latin Part English. The Latin Speeches Ended The English Thus Began

 Hail native Language, that by sinews weak
Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak,
And mad'st imperfect words with childish tripps,
Half unpronounc't, slide through my infant-lipps,
Driving dum silence from the portal dore,
Where he had mutely sate two years before:
Here I salute thee and thy pardon ask,
That now I use thee in my latter task:
Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee,
I know my tongue but little Grace can do thee: 
Thou needst not be ambitious to be first,
Believe me I have thither packt the worst:
And, if it happen as I did forecast,
The daintest dishes shall be serv'd up last.
I pray thee then deny me not thy aide For this same small neglect that I have made: But haste thee strait to do me once a Pleasure, And from thy wardrope bring thy chiefest treasure; Not those new fangled toys, and triming slight Which takes our late fantasticks with delight, But cull those richest Robes, and gay'st attire Which deepest Spirits, and choicest Wits desire: I have some naked thoughts that rove about And loudly knock to have their passage out; And wearie of their place do only stay Till thou hast deck't them in thy best aray; That so they may without suspect or fears Fly swiftly to this fair Assembly's ears; Yet I had rather if I were to chuse, Thy service in some graver subject use, Such as may make thee search thy coffers round Before thou cloath my fancy in fit sound: Such where the deep transported mind may scare Above the wheeling poles, and at Heav'ns dore Look in, and see each blissful Deitie How he before the thunderous throne doth lie, Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings To th'touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings Immortal Nectar to her Kingly Sire: Then passing through the Spherse of watchful fire, And mistie Regions of wide air next under, And hills of Snow and lofts of piled Thunder, May tell at length how green-ey'd Neptune raves, In Heav'ns defiance mustering all his waves; Then sing of secret things that came to pass When Beldam Nature in her cradle was; And last of Kings and Queens and Hero's old, Such as the wise Demodocus once told In solemn Songs at King Alcinous feast, While sad Ulisses soul and all the rest Are held with his melodious harmonie In willing chains and sweet captivitie.
But fie my wandring Muse how thou dost stray! Expectance calls thee now another way, Thou know'st it must he now thy only bent To keep in compass of thy Predicament: Then quick about thy purpos'd business come, That to the next I may resign my Roome Then Ens is represented as Father of the Predicaments his ten Sons, whereof the Eldest stood for Substance with his Canons, which Ens thus speaking, explains.
Good luck befriend thee Son; for at thy birth The Faiery Ladies daunc't upon the hearth; Thy drowsie Nurse hath sworn she did them spie Come tripping to the Room where thou didst lie; And sweetly singing round about thy Bed Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping Head.
She heard them give thee this, that thou should'st still From eyes of mortals walk invisible, Yet there is something that doth force my fear, For once it was my dismal hap to hear A Sybil old, bow-bent with crooked age, That far events full wisely could presage, And in Times long and dark Prospective Glass Fore-saw what future dayes should bring to pass, Your Son, said she, (nor can you it prevent) Shall subject be to many an Accident.
O're all his Brethren he shall Reign as King, Yet every one shall make him underling, And those that cannot live from him asunder Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under, In worth and excellence he shall out-go them, Yet being above them, he shall be below them; From others he shall stand in need of nothing, Yet on his Brothers shall depend for Cloathing.
To find a Foe it shall not be his hap, And peace shall lull him in her flowry lap; Yet shall he live in strife, and at his dore Devouring war shall never cease to roare; Yea it shall be his natural property To harbour those that are at enmity.
What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot? The next Quantity and Quality, spake in Prose, then Relation was call'd by his Name.
Rivers arise; whether thou be the Son, Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphie Dun, Or Trent, who like some earth-born Giant spreads His thirty Armes along the indented Meads, Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath, Or Severn swift, guilty of Maidens death, Or Rockie Avon, or of Sedgie Lee, Or Coaly Tine, or antient hallowed Dee, Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythians Name, Or Medway smooth, or Royal Towred Thame.
Written by Andrew Marvell | Create an image from this poem

Ros

 Cernis ut Eio descendat Gemmula Roris,
Inque Rosas roseo transfluat orta sinu.
Sollicita Flores stant ambitione supini, Et certant foliis pellicuisse suis.
Illa tamen patriae lustrans fastigia Sphaerae, Negligit hospitii limina picta novi.
Inque sui nitido conclusa voluminis orbe, Exprimit aetherei qua licet Orbis aquas.
En ut odoratum spernat generosior Ostrum, Vixque premat casto mollia strata pede.
Suspicit at longis distantem obtutibus Axem, Inde & languenti lumine pendet amans, Tristis, & in liquidum mutata dolore dolorem, Marcet, uti roseis Lachryma fusa Genis.
Ut pavet, & motum tremit irrequieta Cubile, Et quoties Zephyro fluctuat Aura, fugit .
Qualis inexpertam subeat formido Puellam, Sicubi nocte redit incomitata domum.
Sic & in horridulas agitatur Gutta procellas, Dum prae virgineo cuncta pudore timet.
Donec oberrantem Radio clemente vaporet, Inq; jubar reducem Sol genitale trahat.
Talis, in humano si possit flore videri, Exul ubi longas Mens agit usq; moras; Haec quoque natalis meditans convivia Coeli, Evertit Calices, purpureosque Thoros.
Fontis stilla sacri, Lucis scintilla perennis, Non capitur Tyria veste, vapore Sabae.
Tota sed in proprii secedens luminis Arcem, Colligit in Gyros se sinuosa breves.
Magnorumque sequens animo convexa Deorum, Sydereum parvo fingit in Orbe Globum.
Quam bene in aversae modulum contracta figurae Oppositum Mundo claudit ubiq; latus.
Sed bibit in speculum radios ornata rotundum; Et circumfuso splendet aperta Die.
Qua Superos spectat rutilans, obscurior infra; Caetera dedignans, ardet amore Poli.
Subsilit, hinc agili Poscens discedere motu, Undique coelesti cincta soluta Viae.
Totaque in aereos extenditur orbita cursus; Hinc punctim carpens, mobile stringit iter.
Haud aliter Mensis exundans Manna beatis Deserto jacuit Stilla gelata Solo: Stilla gelata Solo, sed Solibus hausta benignis, Ad sua qua cecidit purior Aftra redit.
Written by Andrew Marvell | Create an image from this poem

Epigramma in Duos montes Amosclivum Et Bilboreum

 Farfacio.
Cernis ut ingenti distinguant limite campum Montis Amos clivi Bilboreique juga! Ille stat indomitus turritis undisque saxis: Cingit huic laetum Fraximus alta Caput.
Illi petra minax rigidis cervicibus horret: Huic quatiunt viridis lenia colla jubas.
Fulcit Atlanteo Rupes ea vertice coelos: Collis at hic humeros subjicit Herculeos.
Hic ceu carceribus visum sylvaque coercet: Ille Oculos alter dum quasi meta trahit.
Ille Giganteum surgit ceu Pelion Ossa: Hic agit ut Pindi culmine Nympha choros.
Erectus, praeceps, salebrosus, & arduus ille: Aeclivis, placidus, mollis, amoenus hic est.
Dissimilis Domino coiit Natura sub uno; Farfaciaque tremunt sub ditione pares.
Dumque triumphanti terras perlabitur Axe, Praeteriens aequa stringit utrumque Rota.
Asper in adversos, facilis cedentibus idem; Ut credas Montes extimulasse suos.
Hi sunt Alcidae Borealis nempe Columnae, Quos medio scindit vallis opaca freto.
An potius longe sic prona cacumina nutant, Parnassus cupiant esse Maria tuus.
Written by Andrew Marvell | Create an image from this poem

In Effigiem Oliveri Cromwell

 Haec est quae toties Inimicos Umbra fugavit,
At sub qua Cives Otia lenta terunt.
In eandem Reginae Sueciae transmissam Bellipotens Virgo, septem Regina Trionum.
Christina, Arctoi lucida stella Poli; Cernis quas merui dura sub Casside Rugas; Sicque Senex Armis impiger Ora fero; Invia Fatorum dum per Vestigia nitor, Exequor & Populi fortia Jussa Manu.
At tibi submittit frontem reverentior Umbra, Nec sunt hi Vultus Regibus usque truces.

Book: Shattered Sighs