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Better to aim at comfort' than at luxury.

African proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bloody Luxury

(coverdale)
Now when I first met you
I was rolling along,
Just a bar room crooner
Singing heartbreak songs,
An I supposed I could never get next to you
But, you seemed quite happy with my company
You kept my body heat steady at 103,
With your mouth full of gimme
An your body full of much obliged
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Youre a five star woman,
An you know what to give
To fill a part time loser
Full of reasons to live,
But, theres no doubt about it
Im taking a chance on you
Becos you get my heart beating heavy,
Make my knees go weak
You get me so damn nervous
I can hardly speak,
But, nothings gonna stop me
Hanging on my good luck charm
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
What you mean to me,

[...] Read more

song performed by Whitesnake
Added by Lucian Velea
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From Luxury To Heartache

Luxury and heartache
Oh yeah
Oh luxury and heartache
Oh yeah
I wont be coming home tomorrow
Nobody there to catch my tears
I wont be leaving tears of sorrow anymore
I played that game for so many years
If I cry, will you catch my fall
Do you want me to be the same
If I cry, will you catch my fall
Am I playing the losers game?
From luxury to heartache
Such a long way to find that you were mourning
From luxury to heartache
Such a long way you gave me little warning
She will be there to give you children, yes she will
She will be there to make you sing, sing, sing
I wont be standing in the shadows anymore
I learned to cover up my pain
If I cry will you catch my fall
Do you want me to be the same
If I cry will you catch my fall
Am I playing the losers game?
From luxury to heartache
Such a long way to find that you were mourning
From luxury to heartache
Such a long way you gave me little warning
Gave me love
You gave your love to me
You gave me love
But its not enough for me
Oh luxury
But all you give me is pain
Again and again
Luxury is sweet and so cool
If I cry will you catch my fall
Do you want me to be the same
If I cry will you catch my fall
Am I playing the losers game?
From luxury to heartache
Such a long way to find that you were mourning
From luxury to heartache
Such a long way you gave me little warning
From luxury to heartache
Such a long way to find that you were mourning
From luxury to heartache
Such a long way you gave me, gave me no warning

song performed by Culture Club
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Dream

My Aim is my Dream
I always Dream about my Aim

And Dream and Dream about my aim
My Aim is not to dream, which comes and goes
But still, I Dream and Dream about my Aim

I Dream about my Aim to reach the Fame
To Reach Fame, I Dream about my Aim
To reach Fame, I should not only Aim, but I should climb the Beam

I Should Climb the Beam to have my Dream
When I acquire my Dream, I will acquire my Aim
Because my Dream is about my Aim
I have an Aim which will bring me the Fame
To have the Fame, I have to climb the Beam
To have the Fame, I wanted to climb the Beam

The Beam of Dedication, the Beam of Hard-work,
The beam of Difficulty and the Beam of Obstacles
When I want to have the Fame I have to climb the Beam
When I Climb the Beam, I will have my Fame.

And I Dream and Dream about my Aim
My Aim will always bring me Fame.

You too Dream about your aim
But your Aim should not become a Dream.

poem by Narendra Kuppan
Added by Poetry Lover
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God Rest Ye Merry, Gentleman

God rest ye merry, gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember, Christ, our Saviour
Was born on Christmas day
To save us all from Satan's power
When we were gone astray
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy
In Bethlehem, in Israel,
This blessed Babe was born
And laid within a manger
Upon this blessed morn
The which His Mother Mary
Did nothing take in scorn
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy
From God our Heavenly Father
A blessed Angel came;
And unto certain Shepherds
Brought tidings of the same:
How that in Bethlehem was born
The Son of God by Name.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy
"Fear not then," said the Angel,
"Let nothing you affright,
This day is born a Saviour
Of a pure Virgin bright,
To free all those who trust in Him
From Satan's power and might."
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy
The shepherds at those tidings
Rejoiced much in mind,
And left their flocks a-feeding
In tempest, storm and wind:
And went to Bethlehem straightway
The Son of God to find.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy
And when they came to Bethlehem
Where our dear Saviour lay,
They found Him in a manger,
Where oxen feed on hay;
His Mother Mary kneeling down,

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song performed by Carly Simon
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Poetic Tribute to Shri. APJ Abdul Kalam

Aim for the moon, if not the Mars;
Aim for the stars but avoid wars;
Aim for frontiers, without a fence;
Aim for world-peace, co-existence.

Aim for children who have a dream;
Aim for good youth, with smiles to beam;
Aim for a stronger India;
Aim for a world that’s terror-free.

Aim for dialogues, not sanctions;
Aim for amity of nations;
Aim for a better world for man;
Aim for achievements in life-span!

Abdul Kalam, he had a dream;
And labored hard within a team;
He gave the country missiles great;
And made Bharat, a nuclear state!

He served his tenure usefully;
He left his office peacefully;
He lives a life most hopefully;
‘Just love your brethren sincerely! ’

Fondly and most respectfully dedicated to
Shri APJ Abdul Kalam,
Our beloved Ex-President of INDIA

Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-24-2007

poem by John Celes
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The Growth of Love

1
They that in play can do the thing they would,
Having an instinct throned in reason's place,
--And every perfect action hath the grace
Of indolence or thoughtless hardihood--
These are the best: yet be there workmen good
Who lose in earnestness control of face,
Or reckon means, and rapt in effort base
Reach to their end by steps well understood.
Me whom thou sawest of late strive with the pains
Of one who spends his strength to rule his nerve,
--Even as a painter breathlessly who stains
His scarcely moving hand lest it should swerve--
Behold me, now that I have cast my chains,
Master of the art which for thy sake I serve.

2
For thou art mine: and now I am ashamed
To have uséd means to win so pure acquist,
And of my trembling fear that might have misst
Thro' very care the gold at which I aim'd;
And am as happy but to hear thee named,
As are those gentle souls by angels kisst
In pictures seen leaving their marble cist
To go before the throne of grace unblamed.
Nor surer am I water hath the skill
To quench my thirst, or that my strength is freed
In delicate ordination as I will,
Than that to be myself is all I need
For thee to be most mine: so I stand still,
And save to taste my joy no more take heed.

3
The whole world now is but the minister
Of thee to me: I see no other scheme
But universal love, from timeless dream
Waking to thee his joy's interpreter.
I walk around and in the fields confer
Of love at large with tree and flower and stream,
And list the lark descant upon my theme,
Heaven's musical accepted worshipper.
Thy smile outfaceth ill: and that old feud
'Twixt things and me is quash'd in our new truce;
And nature now dearly with thee endued
No more in shame ponders her old excuse,
But quite forgets her frowns and antics rude,
So kindly hath she grown to her new use.

4

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poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
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Comfort You

Lot of havoc in the sea
People rushing endlessly
Sometimes I think it's just their way
Of capturing a better day
You keep rushing home baby
For your dose of reality
I'll hold out my hands to you
You do what you need to
Ohh, whoa
I will comfort you (I will comfort you)
Ohh, whoa
I will comfort you (I will comfort you)
An ocean of humanity
Some wash up along the street
It's hard to keep in stepping round
It's hard to keep that frame of mind
Trying to move with the sun
Gives the illusion that we're one
I'll be running next to you
We do what we need to
Ohh, whoa
I will comfort you (I will comfort you)
Ohh, whoa
I will comfort you (I will comfort you)
But when the moonlight washes over our bed
and the road slows
A lonely siren screeching 'round the bend
The cool air blows
Raising the hair on my skin
We come face to face
Try to let each other in
Ohh, whoa
I will comfort you (I will comfort you)
Ohh, whoa
I will comfort you (I will comfort you)
I will I will I will I will
I will I will I will I will
I will comfort you

song performed by Cyndi Lauper
Added by Lucian Velea
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His Litany to the Holy Spirit

In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!

When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart, and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!

When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!

Whe the artless doctor sees
No one hope but of his fees,
And his skill runs on the lees,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!

When his potion and his pill,
Has or none or little skill,
Meet for nothing, but to kill,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!

When the passing-bell doth toll,
And the Furies in a shoal
Come to fright a parting soul,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!

When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!

When the priest his last hath prayed,
And I nod to what is said,
'Cause my speech is now decayed,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!

When (God knows) I'm toss'd about,
Either with despair or doubt,
Yet before the glass be out,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!

When the Tempter me pursu'th
With the sins of all my youth,
And half damns me with untruth,
Sweet Spirit comfort me!

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poem by Robert Herrick
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His Litany, To The Holy Spirit

In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart, and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the artless doctor sees
No one hope, but of his fees,
And his skill runs on the lees,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When his potion and his pill,
Has, or none, or little skill,
Meet for nothing but to kill,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the passing-bell doth toll,
And the furies in a shoal
Come to fright a parting soul,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the priest his last hath pray'd,
And I nod to what is said,
'Cause my speech is now decay'd,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When, God knows, I'm tost about
Either with despair, or doubt;
Yet, before the glass be out,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the tempter me pursu'th
With the sins of all my youth,
And half damns me with untruth,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

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poem by Robert Herrick
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Shoot High Aim Low

We hit the blue fields
In the blue sedan we didnt get much further
Just as the sun was rising in the mist
We were all alone we didnt need much more
So fast this expidition
So vast this heavy load
With a touch of luck and a sense of need
Seeing the guns and their faces
We look around the open shore
Waiting for something
Shoot high break low
Aim high shoot low
Break high let go
Shoot high aim low
This was to be our last ride
With the steel guitar and the love you give me
Underneath the skin a feeling, a breakdown
Well we sat for hours on the crimson sand
Exchanges in the currency of humans bought and sold
And the leaders seem to lose control
Shall we lose ourselves for a reason
Shall we burn ourselves for the answer
Have we found the place that were looking for
Someone shouted open the door
Lookout
Shoot high break low
Aim high shoot low
Feeling of imagination
Break high let go
Shoot high aim low
Shoot high aim low
Nothing you can say
Shoot high let go
Takes me by surprise
Shoot high aim low
Who sayss theres got to be a reason
Shoot high let go
Who says theres got to be an answer
We were all alone, we didnt need much more
Shoot high aim low
The suns so hard on this endless highway
Shoot high let go
Shoot high aim low
Ive heard the singers, who sing of love
Shoot high let go
In the blue sedan we never got much further
Shoot high aim low

song performed by Yes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shoot High Aim Low

We hit the blue fields
In the blue sedan we didnt get much further
Just as the sun was rising in the mist
We were all alone we didnt need much more
So fast this expidition
So vast this heavy load
With a touch of luck and a sense of need
Seeing the guns and their faces
We look around the open shore
Waiting for something
Shoot high break low
Aim high shoot low
Break high let go
Shoot high aim low
This was to be our last ride
With the steel guitar and the love you give me
Underneath the skin a feeling, a breakdown
Well we sat for hours on the crimson sand
Exchanges in the currency of humans bought and sold
And the leaders seem to lose control
Shall we lose ourselves for a reason
Shall we burn ourselves for the answer
Have we found the place that were looking for
Someone shouted open the door
Lookout
Shoot high break low
Aim high shoot low
Feeling of imagination
Break high let go
Shoot high aim low
Shoot high aim low
Nothing you can say
Shoot high let go
Takes me by surprise
Shoot high aim low
Who sayss theres got to be a reason
Shoot high let go
Who says theres got to be an answer
We were all alone, we didnt need much more
Shoot high aim low
The suns so hard on this endless highway
Shoot high let go
Shoot high aim low
Ive heard the singers, who sing of love
Shoot high let go
In the blue sedan we never got much further
Shoot high aim low

song performed by Yes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Southern Comfort

(eric carmen)
Recorded by the quick
Epic 10516 / 1969
Northern lovins mean, so cold and weary
You know, I got to go down south to get love right
And the way they love down south
You know it makes my blood run hot
I need some southern comfort, hey, hey, hey
Gimme some of your southern comfort, hey, hey, hey
Well Ive had my fill of gold I trade for women
Now I need some southern hospitality
And the way they love down south,
You know it makes my blood run hot
I need some southern comfort, hey, hey, hey
Gimme some of your southern comfort, hey, hey, hey
So if you wanna keep me satisfied
You gotta give me some southern comfort tonight
Well Ive had my fill of gold I trade for women
No, I need some southern hospitality
And the way they love down south,
You know it makes my blood run hot
I need some southern comfort, hey, hey, hey
Gimme some of your southern comfort, hey, hey, hey
And the way they love down south,
You know it makes my blood run hot
Gimme some of your southern comfort, hey, hey, hey
Gimme some of your southern comfort, hey, hey, hey
Some southern comfort, hey, hey, hey
(oh, you know I want it baby)
Gimme some of your southern comfort, hey, hey, hey

song performed by Eric Carmen
Added by Lucian Velea
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With A Sticking Comfort

It's not easy to leap and grow up.
Not easy to leave behind stuff,
That keeps one cemented and stuck...
With a sticking comfort.

People choose the things they do,
With a sticking comfort.
And it's hard to remove old shoes,
Fitting with a comfort.
But a yesterday has gone away,
Yet they...
Stick with such a comfort.
And in some minds they can't let go,
Even though their aging shows.

It's not easy to leap and grow up.
Not easy to leave behind stuff,
That keeps one cemented and stuck...
With a sticking comfort.

It's not easy to leap and grow up.
Not easy to leave behind stuff,
That keeps one cemented and stuck...
With a sticking comfort.

People choose the things they do,
With a sticking comfort.
And it's hard to remove old shoes,
Fitting with a comfort.
But a yesterday has gone away,
Yet they...
Stick with such a comfort.
And in some minds they can't let go,
Even though their aging shows.

In some minds they can't let go,
Even though their aging shows.
It's not easy to leap and grow up.
Not easy to leave behind stuff,
That keeps one cemented and stuck...
With a sticking comfort.

It's not easy to leap and grow up.
Not easy to leave behind stuff,
That keeps one cemented and stuck...
With a sticking comfort.
One should just let go.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dipping Low

I went around the world till I found the right spot.
It was ultra sweet and just a little bit hot.
Dippin' low in the lap of luxury.
Dippin' low in the lap of luxury.
Now if you get down there you'll be doin' it right.
Yeah, once you got it you better hold on tight.
Dippin' low in the lap of luxury.
Dippin' low in the lap of luxury.
Now if you wanna break down I'll hold my head up high.
I'm a good mechanic, I'll go over you in style.
Dippin low in the lap of luxury.
Dippin low in the lap of luxury.

song performed by ZZ Top
Added by Lucian Velea
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Such luxury is not for me. for friend Thad

A marble floor that’s silken smooth
and walls of carven cedar wood.
What does such ostentation prove?
I do not know but feel I should.

Such luxury is not for me
I am contented with my lot.

I make no effort to impress
I have sufficient for my needs.
It matters not that I have less
than those who feel they must succeed

Such luxury is not for me.
I am contented with my lot

I see no reason to display
I much prefer my privacy.
I live my life in my own way
Accepting life’s reality

Such luxury is not for me.
I am contented with my lot

Though I indulge in fantasy
from time to time like everyone
I know it’s not reality
only a dream that’s quickly gone.

Such luxury is not for me.
I am contented with my lot.

I earn my living honestly
although I’m just an artisan
Better to live quietly
as befits a simple man.

Such luxury is not for me.
I am contented with my lot

A marble floor that’s silken smooth
and walls of carven cedar wood.
What does such ostentation prove?
Something I’ve never understood.

Such luxury is not for me.
I am contented with my lot.

Tuesday,10 November 2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Litany to the Holy Spirit

IN the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
   Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
   Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
   Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the passing bell doth toll,
And the Furies in a shoal
Come to fright a parting soul,
   Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
   Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the priest his last hath pray'd,
And I nod to what is said,
'Cause my speech is now decay'd,
   Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When, God knows, I'm toss'd about
Either with despair or doubt;
Yet before the glass be out,
   Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the tempter me pursu'th
With the sins of all my youth,
And half damns me with untruth,
   Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the flames and hellish cries
Fright mine ears and fright mine eyes,
And all terrors me surprise,
   Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the Judgment is reveal'd,
And that open'd which was seal'd,
When to Thee I have appeal'd,
   Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

poem by Robert Herrick
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The Example of Vertu : Cantos I.-VII.

Here begynneth the boke called the example of vertu.

The prologe.

Whan I aduert in my remembraunce
The famous draughtes of poetes eloquent
Whiche theyr myndes dyd well enhaunce
Bokes to contryue that were expedyent
To be remembred without Impedyment
For the profyte of humanyte
This was the custume of antyquyte.
I now symple and moost rude
And naked in depured eloquence
For dulnes rethoryke doth exclude
Wherfore in makynge I lake intellygence
Also consyderynge my grete neglygence
It fereth me sore for to endyte
But at auenture I wyll now wryte.
As very blynde in the poetys art
For I therof can no thynge skyll
Wherfore I lay it all a part
But somwhat accordynge to my wyll
I wyll now wryte for to fulfyll
Saynt Powles wordes and true sentement
All that is wryten is to oure document
O prudent Gower in langage pure
Without corrupcyon moost facundyous
O noble Chauser euer moost sure
Of frutfull sentence ryght delycyous
O vertuous Lydgat moche sentencyous
Unto you all I do me excuse
Though I your connynge do now vse
Explicit prologus.

Capitulum Primsi.
In Septembre in fallynge of the lefe
Whan phebus made his declynacyon
And all the whete gadred was in the shefe
By radyaunt hete and operacyon
Whan the vyrgyn had full domynacyon
And Dyane entred was one degre
Into the sygne of Gemyne
Whan the golden sterres clere were splendent
In the firmament puryfyed clere as crystall
By imperyall course without incombrement
As Iuppyter and Mars that be celestyall
With Saturne and Mercury that wer supernall
Myxt with venus that was not retrograte
That caused me to be well fortunate
In a slombrynge slepe with slouth opprest

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poem by Stephen Hawes
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The Four Seasons : Autumn

Crown'd with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf,
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Comes jovial on; the Doric reed once more,
Well pleased, I tune. Whate'er the wintry frost
Nitrous prepared; the various blossom'd Spring
Put in white promise forth; and Summer-suns
Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view,
Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme.
Onslow! the Muse, ambitious of thy name,
To grace, inspire, and dignify her song,
Would from the public voice thy gentle ear
A while engage. Thy noble cares she knows,
The patriot virtues that distend thy thought,
Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow;
While listening senates hang upon thy tongue,
Devolving through the maze of eloquence
A roll of periods, sweeter than her song.
But she too pants for public virtue, she,
Though weak of power, yet strong in ardent will,
Whene'er her country rushes on her heart,
Assumes a bolder note, and fondly tries
To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame.
When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days,
And Libra weighs in equal scales the year;
From Heaven's high cope the fierce effulgence shook
Of parting Summer, a serener blue,
With golden light enliven'd, wide invests
The happy world. Attemper'd suns arise,
Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft through lucid clouds
A pleasing calm; while broad, and brown, below
Extensive harvests hang the heavy head.
Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a gale
Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain:
A calm of plenty! till the ruffled air
Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow.
Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky;
The clouds fly different; and the sudden sun
By fits effulgent gilds the illumined field,
And black by fits the shadows sweep along.
A gaily chequer'd heart-expanding view,
Far as the circling eye can shoot around,
Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn.
These are thy blessings, Industry! rough power!
Whom labour still attends, and sweat, and pain;
Yet the kind source of every gentle art,
And all the soft civility of life:
Raiser of human kind! by Nature cast,
Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods
And wilds, to rude inclement elements;
With various seeds of art deep in the mind

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poem by James Thomson
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The Library

When the sad soul, by care and grief oppress'd,
Looks round the world, but looks in vain for rest;
When every object that appears in view
Partakes her gloom and seems dejected too;
Where shall affliction from itself retire?
Where fade away and placidly expire?
Alas! we fly to silent scenes in vain;
Care blasts the honours of the flow'ry plain:
Care veils in clouds the sun's meridian beam,
Sighs through the grove, and murmurs in the stream;
For when the soul is labouring in despair,
In vain the body breathes a purer air:
No storm-tost sailor sighs for slumbering seas,-
He dreads the tempest, but invokes the breeze;
On the smooth mirror of the deep resides
Reflected woe, and o'er unruffled tides
The ghost of every former danger glides.
Thus, in the calms of life, we only see
A steadier image of our misery;
But lively gales and gently clouded skies
Disperse the sad reflections as they rise;
And busy thoughts and little cares avail
To ease the mind, when rest and reason fail.
When the dull thought, by no designs employ'd,
Dwells on the past, or suffer'd or enjoy'd,
We bleed anew in every former grief,
And joys departed furnish no relief.
Not Hope herself, with all her flattering art,
Can cure this stubborn sickness of the heart:
The soul disdains each comfort she prepares,
And anxious searches for congenial cares;
Those lenient cares, which with our own combined,
By mix'd sensations ease th' afflicted mind,
And steal our grief away, and leave their own

behind;
A lighter grief! which feeling hearts endure
Without regret, nor e'en demand a cure.
But what strange art, what magic can dispose
The troubled mind to change its native woes?
Or lead us willing from ourselves, to see
Others more wretched, more undone than we?
This BOOKS can do;--nor this alone; they give
New views to life, and teach us how to live;
They soothe the grieved, the stubborn they

chastise,
Fools they admonish, and confirm the wise:
Their aid they yield to all: they never shun
The man of sorrow, nor the wretch undone:

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poem by George Crabbe
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Vida's Game Of Chess

TRANSLATED

ARMIES of box that sportively engage
And mimic real battles in their rage,
Pleased I recount; how, smit with glory's charms,
Two mighty Monarchs met in adverse arms,
Sable and white; assist me to explore,
Ye Serian Nymphs, what ne'er was sung before.
No path appears: yet resolute I stray
Where youth undaunted bids me force my way.
O'er rocks and cliffs while I the task pursue,
Guide me, ye Nymphs, with your unerring clue.
For you the rise of this diversion know,
You first were pleased in Italy to show
This studious sport; from Scacchis was its name,
The pleasing record of your Sister's fame.

When Jove through Ethiopia's parch'd extent
To grace the nuptials of old Ocean went,
Each god was there; and mirth and joy around
To shores remote diffused their happy sound.
Then when their hunger and their thirst no more
Claim'd their attention, and the feast was o'er;
Ocean with pastime to divert the thought,
Commands a painted table to be brought.
Sixty-four spaces fill the chequer'd square;
Eight in each rank eight equal limits share.
Alike their form, but different are their dyes,
They fade alternate, and alternate rise,
White after black; such various stains as those
The shelving backs of tortoises disclose.
Then to the gods that mute and wondering sate,
You see (says he) the field prepared for fate.
Here will the little armies please your sight,
With adverse colours hurrying to the fight:
On which so oft, with silent sweet surprise,
The Nymphs and Nereids used to feast their eyes,
And all the neighbours of the hoary deep,
When calm the sea, and winds were lull'd asleep
But see, the mimic heroes tread the board;
He said, and straightway from an urn he pour'd
The sculptured box, that neatly seem'd to ape
The graceful figure of a human shape:--
Equal the strength and number of each foe,
Sixteen appear'd like jet, sixteen like snow.
As their shape varies various is the name,
Different their posts, nor is their strength the same.
There might you see two Kings with equal pride
Gird on their arms, their Consorts by their side;
Here the Foot-warriors glowing after fame,

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poem by Oliver Goldsmith
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