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Best Famous Satis Poems

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

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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 Horace | Create an image from this poem

Enough of snow (JAM SATIS TERRIS)

Enough of snow and hail at last
       The Sire has sent in vengeance down:
     His bolts, at His own temple cast,
         Appall'd the town,
     Appall'd the lands, lest Pyrrha's time
       Return, with all its monstrous sights,
     When Proteus led his flocks to climb
               The flatten'd heights,
     When fish were in the elm-tops caught,
       Where once the stock-dove wont to bide,
     And does were floating, all distraught,
               Adown the tide.
     Old Tiber, hurl'd in tumult back
       From mingling with the Etruscan main,
     Has threaten'd Numa's court with wrack
               And Vesta's fane.
     Roused by his Ilia's plaintive woes,
       He vows revenge for guiltless blood,
     And, spite of Jove, his banks o'erflows,
               Uxorious flood.
     Yes, Fame shall tell of civic steel
       That better Persian lives had spilt,
     To youths, whose minish'd numbers feel
               Their parents' guilt.
     What god shall Rome invoke to stay
       Her fall? Can suppliance overbear
     The ear of Vesta, turn'd away
               From chant and prayer?
     Who comes, commission'd to atone
       For crime like ours? at length appear,
     A cloud round thy bright shoulders thrown,
               Apollo seer!
     Or Venus, laughter-loving dame,
       Round whom gay Loves and Pleasures fly;
     Or thou, if slighted sons may claim
               A parent's eye,
     O weary—with thy long, long game,
       Who lov'st fierce shouts and helmets bright,
     And Moorish warrior's glance of flame
               Or e'er he smite!
     Or Maia's son, if now awhile
       In youthful guise we see thee here,
     Caesar's avenger—such the style
               Thou deign'st to bear;
     Late be thy journey home, and long
       Thy sojourn with Rome's family;
     Nor let thy wrath at our great wrong
               Lend wings to fly.
     Here take our homage, Chief and Sire;
       Here wreathe with bay thy conquering brow,
     And bid the prancing Mede retire,
               Our Caesar thou!

Book: Reflection on the Important Things