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Best Famous Sinai Poems

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Written by Ezra Pound | Create an image from this poem

Hugh Selwyn Mauberly (Part I)

 "Vocat aestus in umbram" 
Nemesianus Es. IV. 

E. P. Ode pour l'élection de son sépulchre 

For three years, out of key with his time,
He strove to resuscitate the dead art
Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
In the old sense. Wrong from the start --

No, hardly, but, seeing he had been born
In a half savage country, out of date;
Bent resolutely on wringing lilies from the acorn;
Capaneus; trout for factitious bait:

"Idmen gar toi panth, os eni Troie
Caught in the unstopped ear;
Giving the rocks small lee-way
The chopped seas held him, therefore, that year.

His true Penelope was Flaubert,
He fished by obstinate isles;
Observed the elegance of Circe's hair
Rather than the mottoes on sun-dials.

Unaffected by "the march of events",
He passed from men's memory in l'an trentiesme
De son eage; the case presents
No adjunct to the Muses' diadem.

II.

The age demanded an image
Of its accelerated grimace,
Something for the modern stage,
Not, at any rate, an Attic grace;

Not, not certainly, the obscure reveries
Of the inward gaze;
Better mendacities
Than the classics in paraphrase!

The "age demanded" chiefly a mould in plaster,
Made with no loss of time,
A prose kinema, not, not assuredly, alabaster
Or the "sculpture" of rhyme.

III. 

The tea-rose, tea-gown, etc.
Supplants the mousseline of Cos,
The pianola "replaces"
Sappho's barbitos.

Christ follows Dionysus,
Phallic and ambrosial
Made way for macerations;
Caliban casts out Ariel.

All things are a flowing,
Sage Heracleitus says;
But a tawdry cheapness
Shall reign throughout our days.

Even the Christian beauty
Defects -- after Samothrace;
We see to kalon
Decreed in the market place.

Faun's flesh is not to us,
Nor the saint's vision.
We have the press for wafer;
Franchise for circumcision.

All men, in law, are equals.
Free of Peisistratus,
We choose a knave or an eunuch
To rule over us.

A bright Apollo,

tin andra, tin eroa, tina theon,
What god, man, or hero
Shall I place a tin wreath upon?

IV. 

These fought, in any case,
and some believing, pro domo, in any case ..

Some quick to arm,
some for adventure,
some from fear of weakness,
some from fear of censure,
some for love of slaughter, in imagination,
learning later ...

some in fear, learning love of slaughter;
Died some pro patria, non dulce non et decor" ..

walked eye-deep in hell
believing in old men's lies, then unbelieving
came home, home to a lie,
home to many deceits,
home to old lies and new infamy;

usury age-old and age-thick
and liars in public places.

Daring as never before, wastage as never before.
Young blood and high blood,
Fair cheeks, and fine bodies;

fortitude as never before 

frankness as never before,
disillusions as never told in the old days,
hysterias, trench confessions,
laughter out of dead bellies.


V. 

There died a myriad,
And of the best, among them,
For an old ***** gone in the teeth,
For a botched civilization.

Charm, smiling at the good mouth,
Quick eyes gone under earth's lid,

For two gross of broken statues,
For a few thousand battered books.

Yeux Glauques

Gladstone was still respected,
When John Ruskin produced
"Kings Treasuries"; Swinburne
And Rossetti still abused.

Fœtid Buchanan lifted up his voice
When that faun's head of hers
Became a pastime for
Painters and adulterers.

The Burne-Jones cartons
Have preserved her eyes;
Still, at the Tate, they teach
Cophetua to rhapsodize;

Thin like brook-water,
With a vacant gaze.
The English Rubaiyat was still-born
In those days.

The thin, clear gaze, the same
Still darts out faun-like from the half-ruin'd face,
Questing and passive ....
"Ah, poor Jenny's case" ...

Bewildered that a world
Shows no surprise
At her last maquero's 
Adulteries.

"Siena Mi Fe', Disfecemi Maremma" 

Among the pickled fœtuses and bottled bones,
Engaged in perfecting the catalogue,
I found the last scion of the
Senatorial families of Strasbourg, Monsieur Verog.

For two hours he talked of Gallifet;
Of Dowson; of the Rhymers' Club;
Told me how Johnson (Lionel) died
By falling from a high stool in a pub ...

But showed no trace of alcohol
At the autopsy, privately performed --
Tissue preserved -- the pure mind
Arose toward Newman as the whiskey warmed.

Dowson found harlots cheaper than hotels;
Headlam for uplift; Image impartially imbued
With raptures for Bacchus, Terpsichore and the Church.
So spoke the author of "The Dorian Mood",

M. Verog, out of step with the decade,
Detached from his contemporaries,
Neglected by the young,
Because of these reveries.

Brennbaum. 

The sky-like limpid eyes,
The circular infant's face,
The stiffness from spats to collar
Never relaxing into grace;

The heavy memories of Horeb, Sinai and the forty years,
Showed only when the daylight fell
Level across the face
Of Brennbaum "The Impeccable".

Mr. Nixon 

In the cream gilded cabin of his steam yacht
Mr. Nixon advised me kindly, to advance with fewer
Dangers of delay. "Consider
Carefully the reviewer.

"I was as poor as you are;
"When I began I got, of course,
"Advance on royalties, fifty at first", said Mr. Nixon,
"Follow me, and take a column,
"Even if you have to work free.

"Butter reviewers. From fifty to three hundred
"I rose in eighteen months;
"The hardest nut I had to crack
"Was Dr. Dundas.

"I never mentioned a man but with the view
"Of selling my own works.
"The tip's a good one, as for literature
"It gives no man a sinecure."

And no one knows, at sight a masterpiece.
And give up verse, my boy,
There's nothing in it."

* * * 

Likewise a friend of Bloughram's once advised me:
Don't kick against the pricks,
Accept opinion. The "Nineties" tried your game
And died, there's nothing in it.

X. 

Beneath the sagging roof
The stylist has taken shelter,
Unpaid, uncelebrated,
At last from the world's welter

Nature receives him,
With a placid and uneducated mistress
He exercises his talents
And the soil meets his distress.

The haven from sophistications and contentions
Leaks through its thatch;
He offers succulent cooking;
The door has a creaking latch.

XI. 

"Conservatrix of Milésien"
Habits of mind and feeling,
Possibly. But in Ealing
With the most bank-clerkly of Englishmen?

No, "Milésian" is an exaggeration.
No instinct has survived in her
Older than those her grandmother
Told her would fit her station.

XII. 

"Daphne with her thighs in bark
Stretches toward me her leafy hands", --
Subjectively. In the stuffed-satin drawing-room
I await The Lady Valentine's commands,

Knowing my coat has never been
Of precisely the fashion
To stimulate, in her,
A durable passion;

Doubtful, somewhat, of the value
Of well-gowned approbation
Of literary effort,
But never of The Lady Valentine's vocation:

Poetry, her border of ideas,
The edge, uncertain, but a means of blending
With other strata
Where the lower and higher have ending;

A hook to catch the Lady Jane's attention,
A modulation toward the theatre,
Also, in the case of revolution,
A possible friend and comforter.

* * * 

Conduct, on the other hand, the soul
"Which the highest cultures have nourished"
To Fleet St. where
Dr. Johnson flourished;

Beside this thoroughfare
The sale of half-hose has
Long since superseded the cultivation
Of Pierian roses.


Written by Kahlil Gibran | Create an image from this poem

The Playground of Life XIX

 One hour devoted to the pursuit of Beauty 
And Love is worth a full century of glory 
Given by the frightened weak to the strong. 


From that hour comes man's Truth; and 
During that century Truth sleeps between 
The restless arms of disturbing dreams. 


In that hour the soul sees for herself 
The Natural Law, and for that century she 
Imprisons herself behind the law of man; 
And she is shackled with irons of oppression. 


That hour was the inspiration of the Songs 
Of Solomon, an that century was the blind 
Power which destroyed the temple of Baalbek. 


That hour was the birth of the Sermon on the 
Mount, and that century wrecked the castles of 
Palmyra and the Tower of Babylon. 


That hour was the Hegira of Mohammed and that 
Century forgot Allah, Golgotha, and Sinai. 


One hour devoted to mourning and lamenting the 
Stolen equality of the weak is nobler than a 
Century filled with greed and usurpation. 


It is at that hour when the heart is 
Purified by flaming sorrow and 
Illuminated by the torch of Love. 
And in that century, desires for Truth 
Are buried in the bosom of the earth. 
That hour is the root which must flourish. 
That hour of meditation, the hour of 
Prayer, and the hour of a new era of good. 


And that century is a life of Nero spent 
On self-investment taken solely from 
Earthly substance. 


This is life. 
Portrayed on the stage for ages; 
Recorded earthly for centuries; 
Lived in strangeness for years; 
Sung as a hymn for days; 
Exalted but for an hour, but the 
Hour is treasured by Eternity as a jewel.
Written by William Blake | Create an image from this poem

The Song of Los

 AFRICA 

I will sing you a song of Los. the Eternal Prophet: 
He sung it to four harps at the tables of Eternity. 
In heart-formed Africa. 
Urizen faded! Ariston shudderd! 
And thus the Song began 

Adam stood in the garden of Eden: 
And Noah on the mountains of Ararat; 
They saw Urizen give his Laws to the Nations 
By the hands of the children of Los. 

Adam shudderd! Noah faded! black grew the sunny African 
When Rintrah gave Abstract Philosophy to Brama in the East: 
(Night spoke to the Cloud! 
Lo these Human form'd spirits in smiling hipocrisy. War 
Against one another; so let them War on; slaves to the eternal Elements) 
Noah shrunk, beneath the waters; 
Abram fled in fires from Chaldea; 
Moses beheld upon Mount Sinai forms of dark delusion: 

To Trismegistus. Palamabron gave an abstract Law: 
To Pythagoras Socrates & Plato. 

Times rolled on o'er all the sons of Har, time after time 
Orc on Mount Atlas howld, chain'd down with the Chain of Jealousy 
Then Oothoon hoverd over Judah & Jerusalem 
And Jesus heard her voice (a man of sorrows) he recievd 
A Gospel from wretched Theotormon. 

The human race began to wither, for the healthy built 
Secluded places, fearing the joys of Love 
And the disease'd only propagated: 
So Antamon call'd up Leutha from her valleys of delight: 
And to Mahomet a loose Bible gave. 
But in the North, to Odin, Sotha gave a Code of War, 
Because of Diralada thinking to reclaim his joy. 

These were the Churches: Hospitals: Castles: Palaces: 
Like nets & gins & traps to catch the joys of Eternity 
And all the rest a desart; 
Till like a dream Eternity was obliterated & erased. 

Since that dread day when Har and Heva fled. 
Because their brethren & sisters liv'd in War & Lust; 
And as they fled they shrunk 
Into two narrow doleful forms: 
Creeping in reptile flesh upon 
The bosom of the ground: 
And all the vast of Nature shrunk 
Before their shrunken eyes. 

Thus the terrible race of Los & Enitharmon gave 
Laws & Religions to the sons of Har binding them more 
And more to Earth: closing and restraining: 
Till a Philosophy of Five Senses was complete 
Urizen wept & gave it into the hands of Newton & Locke 

Clouds roll heavy upon the Alps round Rousseau & Voltaire: 
And on the mountains of Lebanon round the deceased Gods 
Of Asia; & on the deserts of Africa round the Fallen Angels 
The Guardian Prince of Albion burns in his nightly tent 


ASIA 

The Kings of Asia heard 
The howl rise up from Europe! 
And each ran out from his Web; 
From his ancient woven Den; 
For the darkness of Asia was startled 
At the thick-flaming, thought-creating fires of Orc. 

And the Kings of Asia stood 
And cried in bitterness of soul. 

Shall not the King call for Famine from the heath? 
Nor the Priest, for Pestilence from the fen? 
To restrain! to dismay! to thin! 
The inhabitants of mountain and plain; 
In the day, of full-feeding prosperity; 
And the night of delicious songs. 

Shall not the Councellor throw his curb 
Of Poverty on the laborious? 
To fix the price of labour; 
To invent allegoric riches: 

And the privy admonishers of men 
Call for fires in the City 
For heaps of smoking ruins, 
In the night of prosperity & wantonness 

To turn man from his path, 
To restrain the child from the womb, 

To cut off the bread from the city, 
That the remnant may learn to obey. 
That the pride of the heart may fail; 
That the lust of the eyes may be quench'd: 
That the delicate ear in its infancy 

May be dull'd; and the nostrils clos'd up; 
To teach mortal worms the path 
That leads from the gates of the Grave. 

Urizen heard them cry! 
And his shudd'ring waving wings 
Went enormous above the red flames 
Drawing clouds of despair thro' the heavens 
Of Europe as he went: 
And his Books of brass iron & gold 
Melted over the land as he flew, 

Heavy-waving, howling, weeping. 

And he stood over Judea: 
And stay'd in his ancient place: 
And stretch'd his clouds over Jerusalem; 

For Adam, a mouldering skeleton 
Lay bleach'd on the garden of Eden; 
And Noah as white as snow 
On the mountains of Ararat. 

Then the thunders of Urizen bellow'd aloud 
From his woven darkness above. 

Orc raging in European darkness 
Arose like a pillar of fire above the Alps 
Like a serpent of fiery flame! 
The sullen Earth 
Shrunk! 

Forth from the dead dust rattling bones to bones 
Join: shaking convuls'd the shivring clay breathes 
And all flesh naked stands: Fathers and Friends; 
Mothers & Infants; Kings & Warriors: 

The Grave shrieks with delight, & shakes 
Her hollow womb, & clasps the solid stem: 
Her bosom swells with wild desire: 
And milk & blood & glandous wine.
Written by Victor Hugo | Create an image from this poem

Early Poems

 MOSES ON THE NILE. 
 
 ("Mes soeurs, l'onde est plus fraiche.") 
 
 {TO THE FLORAL GAMES, Toulouse, Feb. 10, 1820.} 


 "Sisters! the wave is freshest in the ray 
 Of the young morning; the reapers are asleep; 
 The river bank is lonely: come away! 
 The early murmurs of old Memphis creep 
 Faint on my ear; and here unseen we stray,— 
 Deep in the covert of the grove withdrawn, 
 Save by the dewy eye-glance of the dawn. 
 
 "Within my father's palace, fair to see, 
 Shine all the Arts, but oh! this river side, 
 Pranked with gay flowers, is dearer far to me 
 Than gold and porphyry vases bright and wide; 
 How glad in heaven the song-bird carols free! 
 Sweeter these zephyrs float than all the showers 
 Of costly odors in our royal bowers. 
 
 "The sky is pure, the sparkling stream is clear: 
 Unloose your zones, my maidens! and fling down 
 To float awhile upon these bushes near 
 Your blue transparent robes: take off my crown, 
 And take away my jealous veil; for here 
 To-day we shall be joyous while we lave 
 Our limbs amid the murmur of the wave. 
 
 "Hasten; but through the fleecy mists of morn, 
 What do I see? Look ye along the stream! 
 Nay, timid maidens—we must not return! 
 Coursing along the current, it would seem 
 An ancient palm-tree to the deep sea borne, 
 That from the distant wilderness proceeds, 
 Downwards, to view our wondrous Pyramids. 
 
 "But stay! if I may surely trust mine eye,— 
 It is the bark of Hermes, or the shell 
 Of Iris, wafted gently to the sighs 
 Of the light breeze along the rippling swell; 
 But no: it is a skiff where sweetly lies 
 An infant slumbering, and his peaceful rest 
 Looks as if pillowed on his mother's breast. 
 
 "He sleeps—oh, see! his little floating bed 
 Swims on the mighty river's fickle flow, 
 A white dove's nest; and there at hazard led 
 By the faint winds, and wandering to and fro, 
 The cot comes down; beneath his quiet head 
 The gulfs are moving, and each threatening wave 
 Appears to rock the child upon a grave. 
 
 "He wakes—ah, maids of Memphis! haste, oh, haste! 
 He cries! alas!—What mother could confide 
 Her offspring to the wild and watery waste? 
 He stretches out his arms, the rippling tide 
 Murmurs around him, where all rudely placed, 
 He rests but with a few frail reeds beneath, 
 Between such helpless innocence and death. 
 
 "Oh! take him up! Perchance he is of those 
 Dark sons of Israel whom my sire proscribes; 
 Ah! cruel was the mandate that arose 
 Against most guiltless of the stranger tribes! 
 Poor child! my heart is yearning for his woes, 
 I would I were his mother; but I'll give 
 If not his birth, at least the claim to live." 
 
 Thus Iphis spoke; the royal hope and pride 
 Of a great monarch; while her damsels nigh, 
 Wandered along the Nile's meandering side; 
 And these diminished beauties, standing by 
 The trembling mother; watching with eyes wide 
 Their graceful mistress, admired her as stood, 
 More lovely than the genius of the flood! 
 
 The waters broken by her delicate feet 
 Receive the eager wader, as alone 
 By gentlest pity led, she strives to meet 
 The wakened babe; and, see, the prize is won! 
 She holds the weeping burden with a sweet 
 And virgin glow of pride upon her brow, 
 That knew no flush save modesty's till now. 
 
 Opening with cautious hands the reedy couch, 
 She brought the rescued infant slowly out 
 Beyond the humid sands; at her approach 
 Her curious maidens hurried round about 
 To kiss the new-born brow with gentlest touch; 
 Greeting the child with smiles, and bending nigh 
 Their faces o'er his large, astonished eye! 
 
 Haste thou who, from afar, in doubt and fear, 
 Dost watch, with straining eyes, the fated boy— 
 The loved of heaven! come like a stranger near, 
 And clasp young Moses with maternal joy; 
 Nor fear the speechless transport and the tear 
 Will e'er betray thy fond and hidden claim, 
 For Iphis knows not yet a mother's name! 
 
 With a glad heart, and a triumphal face, 
 The princess to the haughty Pharaoh led 
 The humble infant of a hated race, 
 Bathed with the bitter tears a parent shed; 
 While loudly pealing round the holy place 
 Of Heaven's white Throne, the voice of angel choirs 
 Intoned the theme of their undying lyres! 
 
 "No longer mourn thy pilgrimage below— 
 O Jacob! let thy tears no longer swell 
 The torrent of the Egyptian river: Lo! 
 Soon on the Jordan's banks thy tents shall dwell; 
 And Goshen shall behold thy people go 
 Despite the power of Egypt's law and brand, 
 From their sad thrall to Canaan's promised land. 
 
 "The King of Plagues, the Chosen of Sinai, 
 Is he that, o'er the rushing waters driven, 
 A vigorous hand hath rescued for the sky; 
 Ye whose proud hearts disown the ways of heaven! 
 Attend, be humble! for its power is nigh 
 Israel! a cradle shall redeem thy worth— 
 A Cradle yet shall save the widespread earth!" 
 
 Dublin University Magazine, 1839 


 




Written by John Milton | Create an image from this poem

The Hymn

 I

It was the Winter wilde,
While the Heav'n-born-childe, 
All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;
Nature in aw to him
Had doff't her gawdy trim,
With her great Master so to sympathize:
It was no season then for her
To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour.

II

Only with speeches fair
She woo'd the gentle Air
To hide her guilty front with innocent Snow,
And on her naked shame, 
Pollute with sinfull blame,
The Saintly Vail of Maiden white to throw,
Confounded, that her Makers eyes
Should look so near upon her foul deformities.

III

But he her fears to cease,
Sent down the meek-eyd Peace,
She crown'd with Olive green, came softly sliding
Down through the turning sphear
His ready Harbinger,
With Turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, 
And waving wide her mirtle wand,
She strikes a universall Peace through Sea and Land.

IV

No War, or Battails sound
Was heard the World around,
The idle spear and shield were high up hung;
The hooked Chariot stood
Unstain'd with hostile blood,
The Trumpet spake not to the armed throng,
And Kings sate still with awfull eye,
As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. 

V

But peacefull was the night
Wherin the Prince of light
His raign of peace upon the earth began:
The Windes with wonder whist,
Smoothly the waters kist,
Whispering new joyes to the milde Ocean,
Who now hath quite forgot to rave,
While Birds of Calm sit brooding on the charmed wave.

VI

The Stars with deep amaze
Stand fit in steadfast gaze, 
Bending one way their pretious influence,
And will not take their flight,
For all the morning light,
Or Lucifer that often warned them thence;
But in their glimmering Orbs did glow,
Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go.

VII

And though the shady gloom
Had given day her room,
The Sun himself with-held his wonted speed,
And hid his head for shame, 
As his inferior flame,
The new enlightened world no more should need;
He saw a greater Sun appear
Then his bright Throne, or burning Axletree could bear.

VIII

The Shepherds on the Lawn,
Or ere the point of dawn,
Sate simply chatting in a rustic row;
Full little thought they than,
That the mighty Pan
Was kindly com to live with them below; 
Perhaps their loves, or els their sheep,
Was all that did their silly thoughts so busie keep.

IX

When such Musick sweet
Their hearts and ears did greet,
As never was by mortal finger strook,
Divinely-warbled voice
Answering the stringed noise,
As all their souls in blisfull rapture took:
The Air such pleasure loth to lose,
With thousand echo's still prolongs each heav'nly close. 

X

Nature that heard such sound
Beneath the hollow round
of Cynthia's seat the Airy region thrilling,
Now was almost won
To think her part was don
And that her raign had here its last fulfilling;
She knew such harmony alone
Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union.

XI

At last surrounds their sight
A globe of circular light, 
That with long beams the shame faced night arrayed
The helmed Cherubim
And sworded Seraphim,
Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displaid,
Harping in loud and solemn quire,
With unexpressive notes to Heav'ns new-born Heir.

XII

Such Musick (as 'tis said)
Before was never made,
But when of old the sons of morning sung,
While the Creator Great
His constellations set, 
And the well-ballanc't world on hinges hung,
And cast the dark foundations deep,
And bid the weltring waves their oozy channel keep.

XIII

Ring out ye Crystall sphears,
Once bless our human ears,
(If ye have power to touch our senses so)
And let your silver chime
Move in melodious time;
And let the Base of Heav'ns deep Organ blow, 
And with your ninefold harmony
Make up full consort to th'Angelike symphony.

XIV

For if such holy Song
Enwrap our fancy long,
Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold,
And speckl'd vanity
Will sicken soon and die,
And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould,
And Hell it self will pass away
And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. 

XV

Yea Truth, and Justice then
Will down return to men,
Th'enameld Arras of the Rain-bow wearing,
And Mercy set between
Thron'd in Celestiall sheen,
With radiant feet the tissued clouds down stearing,
And Heav'n as at som festivall,
Will open wide the gates of her high Palace Hall.

XVI

But wisest Fate sayes no,
This must not yet be so, 
The Babe lies yet in smiling Infancy,
That on the bitter cross
Must redeem our loss;
So both himself and us to glorifie:
Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep,
The Wakeful trump of doom must thunder through the deep,

XVII

With such a horrid clang
As on Mount Sinai rang
While the red fire, and smouldring clouds out brake:
The aged Earth agast 
With terrour of that blast,
Shall from the surface to the center shake;
When at the worlds last session,
The dreadfull Judge in middle Air shall spread his throne.

XVIII

And then at last our bliss
Full and perfect is,
But now begins; for from this happy day
Th'old Dragon under ground
In straiter limits bound,
Not half so far casts his usurped sway, 
And wrath to see his Kingdom fail,
Swindges the scaly Horrour of his foulded tail.

XIX

The Oracles are dumm,
No voice or hideous humm
Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.
Apollo from his shrine
Can no more divine,
With hollow shreik the steep of Delphos leaving.
No nightly trance, or breathed spell,
Inspire's the pale-ey'd Priest from the prophetic cell. 

XX

The lonely mountains o're,
And the resounding shore,
A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament;
From haunted spring, and dale
Edg'd with poplar pale
The parting Genius is with sighing sent,
With flowre-inwov'n tresses torn
The Nimphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn.

XXI

In consecrated Earth,
And on the holy Hearth, 
The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight plaint,
In Urns, and Altars round,
A drear, and dying sound
Affrights the Flamins at their service quaint;
And the chill Marble seems to sweat,
While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat.

XXII

Peor, and Baalim,
Forsake their Temples dim,
With that twise-batter'd god of Palestine,
And mooned Ashtaroth, 
Heav'ns Queen and Mother both,
Now sits not girt with Tapers holy shine,
The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn,
In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz mourn.

XXIII

And sullen Moloch fled,
Hath left in shadows dred,
His burning Idol all of blackest hue,
In vain with Cymbals ring,
They call the grisly king,
In dismall dance about the furnace Blue; 
And Brutish gods of Nile as fast,
lsis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis hast.


Written by Alec Derwent (A D) Hope | Create an image from this poem

Morning Coffee

 Reading the menu at the morning service: 
- Iced Venusberg perhaps, or buttered bum - 
Orders the usual sex-ersatz, and, nervous, 
Glances around - Will she or won't she come? 

The congregation dissected into pews 
Gulping their strip teas in the luminous cavern 
Agape's sacamental berry stews; 
The nickel-plated light and clatter of heaven 

Receive him, temporary Tantalus 
Into the Lookingglassland's firescape. 
Suckled on Jungfraumilch his eyes discuss, 
The werwolf twins, their mock Sabellian rape. 

This is their time to reap the standing scorn, 
Blonde Rumina's crop. Beneath her leafless tree 
Ripe-rumped she lolls and clasps the plenteous horn. 
Cool customers who defy his Trinity 

Feel none the less, and thrill, ur-vater Fear 
Caged in the son. For, though this ghost behave 
Experienced daughters recognize King Leer: 
Lot also had his daughters in a cave. 

Full sail the proud three-decker sandwiches 
With the eye-fumbled priestesses repass; 
On their swan lake the enchanted icecreams freeze, 
The amorous fountain prickles in the glass 

And at the introit of this mass emotion 
She comes, she comes, a balanced pillar of blood, 
Guides through the desert, divides the sterile ocean, 
Brings sceptic Didymus his berserk food, 

Sits deftly, folding elegant thighs, and takes 
Her time. She skins her little leather hands, 
Conscious that wavering towards her like tame snakes 
The polyp eyes converge.... The prophet stands 

Dreading the answer from her burning bush: 
This unconsuming flame, the outlaw's blow, 
Plague, exodus, Sinai, ruptured stones that gush, 
God's telegram: Dare Now! Let this people go!
Written by Kahlil Gibran | Create an image from this poem

Song of Man XXV

 I was here from the moment of the 
Beginning, and here I am still. And 
I shall remain here until the end 
Of the world, for there is no 
Ending to my grief-stricken being. 


I roamed the infinite sky, and 
Soared in the ideal world, and 
Floated through the firmament. But 
Here I am, prisoner of measurement. 


I heard the teachings of Confucius; 
I listened to Brahma's wisdom; 
I sat by Buddha under the Tree of Knowledge. 
Yet here I am, existing with ignorance 
And heresy. 


I was on Sinai when Jehovah approached Moses; 
I saw the Nazarene's miracles at the Jordan; 
I was in Medina when Mohammed visited. 
Yet I here I am, prisoner of bewilderment. 


Then I witnessed the might of Babylon; 
I learned of the glory of Egypt; 
I viewed the warring greatness of Rome. 
Yet my earlier teachings showed the 
Weakness and sorrow of those achievements. 


I conversed with the magicians of Ain Dour; 
I debated with the priests of Assyria; 
I gleaned depth from the prophets of Palestine. 
Yet, I am still seeking truth. 


I gathered wisdom from quiet India; 
I probed the antiquity of Arabia; 
I heard all that can be heard. 
Yet, my heart is deaf and blind. 


I suffered at the hands of despotic rulers; 
I suffered slavery under insane invaders; 
I suffered hunger imposed by tyranny; 
Yet, I still possess some inner power 
With which I struggle to great each day. 


My mind is filled, but my heart is empty; 
My body is old, but my heart is an infant. 
Perhaps in youth my heart will grow, but I 
Pray to grow old and reach the moment of 
My return to God. Only then will my heart fill! 


I was here from the moment of the 
Beginning, and here I am still. And 
I shall remain here until the end 
Of of world, for there is no 
Ending to my grief-stricken being.
Written by John Milton | Create an image from this poem

Hymn on the Morning of Christs Nativity

 IT was the Winter wilde, 
While the Heav'n-born-childe, 
 All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies; 
Nature in aw to him 
Had doff't her gawdy trim, 
 With her great Master so to sympathize: 
It was no season then for her 
To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour. 

Only with speeches fair 
She woo's the gentle Air 
 To hide her guilty front with innocent Snow, 
And on her naked shame, 
Pollute with sinfull blame, 
 The Saintly Vail of Maiden white to throw, 
Confounded, that her Makers eyes 
Should look so neer upon her foul deformities. 

But he her fears to cease, 
Sent down the meek-eyd Peace, 
 She crown'd with Olive green, came softly sliding 
Down through the turning sphear 
His ready Harbinger, 
 With Turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing, 
And waving wide her mirtle wand, 
She strikes a universall Peace through Sea and Land. 

No War, or Battails sound 
Was heard the World around, 
 The idle spear and shield were high up hung; 
The hooked Chariot stood 
Unstain'd with hostile blood, 
 The Trumpet spake not to the armed throng, 
And Kings sate still with awfull eye, 
As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. 

But peacefull was the night 
Wherin the Prince of light 
 His raign of peace upon the earth began: 
The Windes with wonder whist, 
Smoothly the waters kist, 
 Whispering new joyes to the milde Ocean, 
Who now hath quite forgot to rave, 
While Birds of Calm sit brooding on the charmeed wave. 

The Stars with deep amaze 
Stand fixt in stedfast gaze, 
 Bending one way their pretious influence, 
And will not take their flight, 
For all the morning light, 
 Or Lucifer that often warn'd them thence; 
But in their glimmering Orbs did glow, 
Untill their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. 

And though the shady gloom 
Had given day her room, 
 The Sun himself with-held his wonted speed, 
And hid his head for shame, 
As his inferiour flame, 
 The new enlightn'd world no more should need; 
He saw a greater Sun appear 
Then his bright Throne, or burning Axletree could bear. 

The Shepherds on the Lawn, 
Or ere the point of dawn, 
 Sate simply chatting in a rustick row; 
Full little thought they than, 
That the mighty Pan 
 Was kindly com to live with them below; 
Perhaps their loves, or els their sheep, 
Was all that did their silly thoughts so busie keep. 

When such musick sweet 
Their hearts and ears did greet, 
 As never was by mortall finger strook, 
Divinely-warbled voice 
Answering the stringed noise, 
 As all their souls in blisfull rapture took 
The Air such pleasure loth to lose, 
With thousand echo's still prolongs each heav'nly close. 

Nature that heard such sound 
Beneath the hollow round 
 Of Cynthia's seat, the Airy region thrilling, 
Now was almost won 
To think her part was don, 
 And that her raign had here its last fulfilling; 
She knew such harmony alone 
Could hold all Heav'n and Earth in happier union. 

At last surrounds their sight 
A Globe of circular light, 
 That with long beams the shame-fac't night array'd, 
The helmed Cherubim 
And sworded Seraphim, 
 Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displaid, 
Harping in loud and solemn quire, 
With unexpressive notes to Heav'ns new-born Heir. 

Such musick (as 'tis said) 
Before was never made, 
 But when of old the sons of morning sung, 
While the Creator Great 
His constellations set, 
 And the well-ballanc't world on hinges hung, 
And cast the dark foundations deep, 
And bid the weltring waves their oozy channel keep. 

Ring out ye Crystall sphears, 
Once bless our human ears, 
 (If ye have power to touch our senses so) 
And let your silver chime 
Move in melodious time; 
 And let the Base of Heav'ns deep Organ blow 
And with your ninefold harmony 
Make up full consort to th'Angelike symphony. 

For if such holy Song 
Enwrap our fancy long, 
 Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold, 
And speckl'd vanity 
Will sicken soon and die, 
 And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould, 
And Hell it self will pass away, 
And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. 

Yea Truth, and Justice then 
Will down return to men, 
 Th'enameld Arras of the Rain-bow wearing, 
And Mercy set between, 
Thron'd in Celestiall sheen, 
 With radiant feet the tissued clouds down stearing, 
And Heav'n as at som festivall, 
Will open wide the Gates of her high Palace Hall. 

But wisest Fate sayes no, 
This must not yet be so, 
 The Babe lies yet in smiling Infancy, 
That on the bitter cross 
Must redeem our loss; 
 So both himself and us to glorifie: 
Yet first to those ychain'd in sleep, 
The wakefull trump of doom must thunder through the deep, 

With such a horrid clang 
As on mount Sinai rang 
 While the red fire, and smouldring clouds out brake: 
The aged Earth agast 
With terrour of that blast, 
 Shall from the surface to the center shake; 
When at the worlds last session, 
The dreadfull Judge in middle Air shall spread his throne. 

And then at last our bliss 
Full and perfect is, 
 But now begins; for from this happy day 
Th'old Dragon under ground 
In straiter limits bound, 
 Not half so far casts his usurped sway, 
And wrath to see his Kingdom fail, 
Swindges the scaly Horrour of his foulded tail. 

The Oracles are dumm, 
No voice or hideous humm 
 Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. 
Apollo from his shrine 
Can no more divine, 
 With hollow shreik the steep of Delphos leaving. 
No nightly trance, or breathed spell, 
Inspire's the pale-ey'd Priest from the prophetic cell. 

The lonely mountains o're, 
And the resounding shore, 
 A voice of weeping heard, and loud lament; 
From haunted spring, and dale 
Edg'd with poplar pale, 
 The parting Genius is with sighing sent, 
With flowre-inwov'n tresses torn 
The Nimphs in twilight shade of tangled thickets mourn. 

In consecrated Earth, 
And on the holy Hearth, 
 The Lars, and Lemures moan with midnight plaint, 
In Urns, and Altars round, 
A drear, and dying sound 
 Affrights the Flamins at their service quaint; 
And the chill Marble seems to sweat, 
While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat 

Peor, and Baalim, 
Forsake their Temples dim, 
 With that twise-batter'd god of Palestine, 
And mooned Ashtaroth, 
Heav'ns Queen and Mother both, 
 Now sits not girt with Tapers holy shine, 
The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn, 
In vain the Tyrian Maids their wounded Thamuz mourn. 

And sullen Moloch fled, 
Hath left in shadows dred, 
 His burning Idol all of blackest hue, 
In vain with Cymbals ring, 
They call the grisly king, 
 In dismall dance about the furnace blue; 
The brutish gods of Nile as fast, 
Isis and Orus, and the Dog Anubis hast. 

Nor is Osiris seen 
In Memphian Grove, or Green, 
 Trampling the unshowr'd Grasse with lowings loud: 
Nor can he be at rest 
Within his sacred chest, 
 Naught but profoundest Hell can be his shroud, 
In vain with Timbrel'd Anthems dark 
The sable-stoled Sorcerers bear his worshipt Ark. 

He feels from Juda's Land 
The dredded Infants hand, 
 The rayes of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn; 
Nor all the gods beside, 
Longer dare abide, 
 Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twine: 
Our Babe to shew his Godhead true, 
Can in his swadling bands controul the damned crew. 

So when the Sun in bed, 
Curtain'd with cloudy red, 
 Pillows his chin upon an Orient wave, 
The flocking shadows pale, 
Troop to th'infernall jail, 
 Each fetter'd Ghost slips to his severall grave, 
And the yellow-skirted Fayes, 
Fly after the Night-steeds, leaving their Moon-lov'd maze. 

But see the Virgin blest, 
Hath laid her Babe to rest. 
 Time is our tedious Song should here have ending, 
Heav'ns youngest teemed Star, 
Hath fixt her polisht Car, 
 Her sleeping Lord with Handmaid Lamp attending: 
And all about the Courtly Stable, 
Bright-harnest Angels sit in order serviceable.
Written by Francis Thompson | Create an image from this poem

To A Poet Breaking Silence

 Too wearily had we and song
Been left to look and left to long,
Yea, song and we to long and look,
Since thine acquainted feet forsook
The mountain where the Muses hymn
For Sinai and the Seraphim.
Now in both the mountains' shine
Dress thy countenance, twice divine!
From Moses and the Muses draw
The Tables of thy double Law!
His rod-born fount and Castaly
Let the one rock bring forth for thee,
Renewing so from either spring
The songs which both thy countries sing:
Or we shall fear lest, heavened thus long,
Thou should'st forget thy native song,
And mar thy mortal melodies
With broken stammer of the skies.

Ah! let the sweet birds of the Lord
With earth's waters make accord;
Teach how the crucifix may be
Carven from the laurel-tree,
Fruit of the Hesperides
Burnish take on Eden-trees,
The Muses' sacred grove be wet
With the red dew of Olivet,
And Sappho lay her burning brows
In white Cecilia's lap of snows!

Thy childhood must have felt the stings
Of too divine o'ershadowings;
Its odorous heart have been a blossom
That in darkness did unbosom,
Those fire-flies of God to invite,
Burning spirits, which by night
Bear upon their laden wing
To such hearts impregnating.
For flowers that night-wings fertilize
Mock down the stars' unsteady eyes,
And with a happy, sleepless glance
Gaze the moon out of countenance.
I think thy girlhood's watchers must
Have took thy folded songs on trust,
And felt them, as one feels the stir
Of still lightnings in the hair,
When conscious hush expects the cloud
To speak the golden secret loud
Which tacit air is privy to;
Flasked in the grape the wine they knew,
Ere thy poet-mouth was able
For its first young starry babble.
Keep'st thou not yet that subtle grace?
Yea, in this silent interspace,
God sets His poems in thy face!

The loom which mortal verse affords,
Out of weak and mortal words,
Wovest thou thy singing-weed in,
To a rune of thy far Eden.
Vain are all disguises! Ah,
Heavenly incognita!
Thy mien bewrayeth through that wrong
The great Uranian House of Song!
As the vintages of earth
Taste of the sun that riped their birth,
We know what never cadent Sun
Thy lamped clusters throbbed upon,
What plumed feet the winepress trod;
Thy wine is flavorous of God.
Whatever singing-robe thou wear
Has the Paradisal air;
And some gold feather it has kept
Shows what Floor it lately swept!
Written by William Cowper | Create an image from this poem

Old Testament Gospel

 (Hebrews, iv.2)

Israel in ancient days
Not only had a view
Of Sinai in a blaze,
But learn'd the Gospel too;
The types and figures were a glass,
In which thy saw a Saviour's face.

The paschal sacrifice
And blood-besprinkled door,
Seen with enlighten'd eyes,
And once applied with power,
Would teach the need of other blood,
To reconcile an angry God.

The Lamb, the Dove, set forth
His perfect innocence,
Whose blood of matchless worth
Whould be the soul's defence;
For he who can for sin atone,
Must have no failings of His own.

The scape-goat on his head
The people's trespass bore,
And to the desert led,
Was to be seen no more:
In him our surety seem'd to say,
"Behold, I bear your sins away."

Dipt in his fellow's blood,
The living bird went free;
The type, well understood,
Express'd the sinner's plea;
Described a guilty soul enlarged,
And by a Saviour's death discharged.

Jesus, I love to trace,
Throughout the sacred page,
The footsteps of Thy grace,
The same in every age!
Oh, grant that I may faithful be
To clearer light vouchsafed to me!

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry