Quotes about wolf', page 10
From Perugia
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE'S Letters from Italy.
THE tall, sallow guardsmen their horsetails have spread,
Flaming out in their violet, yellow, and red;
And behind go the lackeys in crimson and buff,
And the chamberlains gorgeous in velvet and ruff;
Next, in red-legged pomp, come the cardinals forth,
Each a lord of the church and a prince of the earth.
What's this squeak of the fife, and this batter of drum?
Lo! the Swiss of the Church from Perugia come;
The militant angels, whose sabres drive home
To the hearts of the malcontents, cursed and abhorred,
The good Father's missives, and 'Thus saith the Lord!'
And lend to his logic the point of the sword!
O maids of Etruria, gazing forlorn
O'er dark Thrasymenus, dishevelled and torn!
O fathers, who pluck at your gray beards for shame!
O mothers, struck dumb by a woe without name!
Well ye know how the Holy Church hireling behaves,
And his tender compassion of prisons and graves!
There they stand, the hired stabbers, the bloodstains yet fresh,
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poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Hunted Down
Two years had the tiger, whose shape was that of a sinister man,
Been out since the night of escape - two years under horror and ban.
In a time full of thunder and rain, when hurricanes hackled the tree,
He slipt through the sludge of a drain, and swam a fierce fork of the sea.
Through the roar of the storm, and the ring
and the wild savage whistle of hail,
Did this naked, whipt, desperate thing
break loose from the guards of the gaol.
And breasting the foam of the bay, and facing the fangs of the bight,
With a great cruel cry on his way, he dashed through the darkness of night.
But foiled was the terror of fin, and baffled the strength of the tide,
For a devil supported his chin and a fiend kept a watch at his side.
And hands of iniquity drest the hellish hyena, and gave
Him food in the hills of the west - in cells of indefinite cave.
Then, strengthened and weaponed, this peer
of the brute, on the track of its prey,
Sprang out, and shed sorrow and fear through the beautiful fields of the day.
And pillage and murder, and worse, swept peace from the face of the land -
The black, bitter work of this curse with the blood on his infamous hand.
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poem by Henry Kendall
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The Wolf And Shepherds. A Fable
Laws, as we read in ancient sages,
Have been like cobwebs in all ages:
Cobwebs for little flies are spread,
And laws for little folks are made;
But if an insect of renown,
Hornet or beetle, wasp or drone,
Be caught in quest of sport or plunder,
The flimsy fetter flies in sunder.
Your simile perhaps may please one
With whom wit holds the place of reason:
But can you prove that this in fact is
Agreeable to life and practice?
Then hear, what in his simple way
Old Æsop told me t' other day.
In days of yore, but (which is very odd)
Our author mentions not the period,
We mortal men, less given to speeches,
Allow'd the beasts sometimes to teach us.
But now we all are prattlers grown,
And suffer no voice but our own;
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poem by James Beattie
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The Nostomaniac
On the ragged edge of the world I'll roam,
And the home of the wolf shall be my home,
And a bunch of bones on the boundless snows
The end of my trail . . . who knows, who knows!
I'm dreaming to-night in the fire-glow, alone in my study tower,
My books battalioned around me, my Kipling flat on my knee;
But I'm not in the mood for reading, I haven't moved for an hour;
Body and brain I'm weary, weary the heart of me;
Weary of crushing a longing it's little I understand,
For I thought that my trail was ended, I thought I had earned my rest;
But oh, it's stronger than life is, the call of the hearthless land!
And I turn to the North in my trouble, as a child to the mother-breast.
Here in my den it's quiet; the sea-wind taps on the pane;
There's comfort and ease and plenty, the smile of the South is sweet.
All that a man might long for, fight for and seek in vain,
Pictures and books and music, pleasure my last retreat.
Peace! I thought I had gained it, I swore that my tale was told;
By my hair that is grey I swore it, by my eyes that are slow to see;
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poem by Robert William Service
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J'aime le souvenir de ces époques nues (I Love The Naked Ages Long Ago)
J'aime le souvenir de ces époques nues,
Dont Phoebus se plaisait à dorer les statues.
Alors l'homme et la femme en leur agilité
Jouissaient sans mensonge et sans anxiété,
Et, le ciel amoureux leur caressant l'échine,
Exerçaient la santé de leur noble machine.
Cybèle alors, fertile en produits généreux,
Ne trouvait point ses fils un poids trop onéreux,
Mais, louve au coeur gonflé de tendresses communes
Abreuvait l'univers à ses tétines brunes.
L'homme, élégant, robuste et fort, avait le droit
D'être fier des beautés qui le nommaient leur roi;
Fruits purs de tout outrage et vierges de gerçures,
Dont la chair lisse et ferme appelait les morsures!
Le Poète aujourd'hui, quand il veut concevoir
Ces natives grandeurs, aux lieux où se font voir
La nudité de l'homme et celle de la femme,
Sent un froid ténébreux envelopper son âme
Devant ce noir tableau plein d'épouvantement.
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poem by Charles Baudelaire
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A Native American grandfather was talking to his grandson about how he felt. He said, "I feel as if I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is the vengeful, angry, violent one. The other wolf is the loving, compassionate one. The grandson asked him, Which wolf will win the fight in your heart? The grandfather answered, The one I feed.
Swedish Song
Sleep well, beautiful dolphin
Sleep well, white wolf
We have love for each other
For each other
Forever
Sleep well, beautiful dolphin
Sleep well, white wolf
Morning wakes/we awaken in the morning
Then we kiss, we kiss
We kiss, forever
Sleep well, sleep well white wolf
Morning wakes/we awaken in the morning
Then we kiss, we kiss
Forever we kiss
song performed by Jewel
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Wolf At The Door
Wake me, shake me from my sleepiness
Wide-eyed, every tale is taller than the one before
Inside out and upside down
Don't make a sound
The wolf's at the door
And all your streetfighting years
Won't help you anymore
Lead me, guide me home old scatterbrain
Blog it, every smile is wider than the one before
Inside out and upside down
Don't make a sound
The wolf's at the door
And all your streetfighting years
Won't help you anymore
Inside out and upside down
And don't make a sound
So I live and feel
Oh no, don't make a sound
The wolf's at the door
And all your streetfighting years
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song performed by Keane
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Witch Wolf
Written by james young, ray brandle
Lead vocals by james young
Reoccurring symptoms
Answer the baleful howl
Bringing me dreams of darkness
The doer of all thats foul
Raping the minds of infants
Sower of unplanted seeds
Full moon warrior
Doer of sordid deeds
Witch wolf
Night rider
Why do you call for me?
Thirteenth hour madman
Bringing my soul to fire
Visions of my sweet beulah
To torment soon retire
Witch wolf
Night rider
Why do you call for me?
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song performed by Styx
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Night Of The Wolf
Streets are full of rain
Lightning cracks the sky
Hear a lonely cry, eyes full of pain
Searchin in the darkness
Eyes pierce the night
Calling for her young one
As she walks towards the light
Its the night of the wolf
Hear the cry of the wolf
Streets paved with gold
Night gives out a warning
Theres thunder in her heart
And mother wolf is calling
Searchin in the shadows
For the one she must save
She cries out a prayer
Like a song from beyond the grave
The bells will toll
No one will sleep tonight
While she alone will
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song performed by Uriah Heep
Added by Lucian Velea
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