Quotes about oath, page 2
A Legend Reborn
Youve been fighting for much to long
You saw the future and what to come
Restless spirits out on the run,
Among the shadows of the sun
You are the rising resistance now
Weve come to show you a way somehow
Beyond the past and in secrecy,
We found it all, but we want more
We come from the age of chivalry
Metal machines, unchained and free
We are hear for you to see
Flying on wings of steel, thundering, we are breaking the seal
Fighting for the oath we sworn, to spread the word of a legend reborn
Moving silent like a gentle breeze
Were the troops of metal and we do as we please
We are the restless, we are the wild,
Burning hearts that never die
We are going against the tide
The hammer has fallen, a thorn in your side
Break the silence or take the fall
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song performed by Hammerfall
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Monk
I
In Nino's chamber not a sound intrudes
Upon the midnight's tingling silentness,
Where Nino sits before his book and broods,
Thin and brow-burdened with some fine distress,
Some gloom that hangs about his mournful moods
His weary bearing and neglected dress:
So sad he sits, nor ever turns a leaf-
Sorrow's pale miser o'er his hoard of grief.
II
Young Nino and Leonora, they had met
Once at a revel by some lover's chance,
And they were young with hearts already set
To tender thoughts, attuned to romance;
Wherefore it seemed they never could forget
That winning touch, that one bewildering glance:
But found at last a shelter safe and sweet,
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poem by Archibald Lampman
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Goldilocks And Goldilocks
It was Goldilocks woke up in the morn
At the first of the shearing of the corn.
There stood his mother on the hearth
And of new-leased wheat was little dearth.
There stood his sisters by the quern,
For the high-noon cakes they needs must earn.
“O tell me Goldilocks my son,
Why hast thou coloured raiment on?”
“Why should I wear the hodden grey
When I am light of heart to-day?”
“O tell us, brother, why ye wear
In reaping-tide the scarlet gear?
Why hangeth the sharp sword at thy side
When through the land ’tis the hook goes wide?”
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poem by William Morris
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Snake; an oracle of oath
The godless men worship the snake
The godless men take oath in name of snake
And the curse comes upon wrongdoer
The godless men take oath in the name of snake
And blessing rains upon the innocent
The godless men take oath in the name of snake
And snake bitten dead the lair
And snake spare life of the truer
Despite snake answers to godless men
No votive or thank given to snake, the god
So the stopped the men to swear
By it name, snake said men used
Thunder and fire for swearing instead of it name
As snake disowned the godless men
Hex fallen upon
poem by David Aoloch Bion
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The Empty Glass
THERE ARE three lank bards in a borrowed room—
Ah! The number is one too few—
They have deemed their home and the bars unfit
For the thing that they have to do.
Three glasses they fill with the Land’s own wine,
And the bread of life they pass.
Their glasses they take, which they slowly raise—
And they drink to an empty glass.
(There’s a greater glare in the street to-night,
And a louder rush and roar,
There’s a mad crowd yelling the winner’s name,
And howling the cricket score:
Oh! The bright moonlight on the angels white,
And the tombs and the monuments grand—
And down by the water at Waverley
There’s a little lone mound of sand.)
Oh, the drinkers would deem them drunk or mad,
And the barmaid stare and frown—
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poem by Henry Lawson
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Saturday, the Small-Pox
FLAVIA.
The wretched FLAVIA on her couch reclin'd,
Thus breath'd the anguish of a wounded mind ;
A glass revers'd in her right hand she bore,
For now she shun'd the face she sought before.
'How am I chang'd ! alas ! how am I grown
'A frightful spectre, to myself unknown !
'Where's my Complexion ? where the radiant Bloom,
'That promis'd happiness for Years to come ?
'Then with what pleasure I this face survey'd !
'To look once more, my visits oft delay'd !
'Charm'd with the view, a fresher red would rise,
'And a new life shot sparkling from my eyes !
'Ah ! faithless glass, my wonted bloom restore;
'Alas ! I rave, that bloom is now no more !
'The greatest good the GODS on men bestow,
'Ev'n youth itself, to me is useless now.
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poem by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
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Town Eclogues: Saturday; The Small-Pox
FLAVIA.
THE wretched FLAVIA on her couch reclin'd,
Thus breath'd the anguish of a wounded mind ;
A glass revers'd in her right hand she bore,
For now she shun'd the face she sought before.
' How am I chang'd ! alas ! how am I grown
' A frightful spectre, to myself unknown !
' Where's my Complexion ? where the radiant Bloom,
' That promis'd happiness for Years to come ?
' Then with what pleasure I this face survey'd !
' To look once more, my visits oft delay'd !
' Charm'd with the view, a fresher red would rise,
' And a new life shot sparkling from my eyes !
' Ah ! faithless glass, my wonted bloom restore;
' Alas ! I rave, that bloom is now no more !
' The greatest good the GODS on men bestow,
' Ev'n youth itself, to me is useless now.
' There was a time, (oh ! that I could forget !)
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poem by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
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The Bride Of Corinth
ONCE a stranger youth to Corinth came,
Who in Athens lived, but hoped that he
From a certain townsman there might claim,
As his father's friend, kind courtesy.
Son and daughter, they
Had been wont to say
Should thereafter bride and bridegroom be.
But can he that boon so highly prized,
Save tis dearly bought, now hope to get?
They are Christians and have been baptized,
He and all of his are heathens yet.
For a newborn creed,
Like some loathsome weed,
Love and truth to root out oft will threat.
Father, daughter, all had gone to rest,
And the mother only watches late;
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poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Kill In The Spirit World
Theres something wrong theres a chill in the air
And the blood in my veins running colder
The eastern sky is beginning to silver
And the words that you speak start to falter
The seal is broken, the oath has been crossed
In the house of the dead theres a taker
Some say that this is the ultimate sin
When the spirit world turns to the alter
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Behold the dead clutching at fading hands, out of reach forever
In glory die calls the voice of the void
Your assassin has cursed every spectre
The seal is broken, the oath has been crossed
And the house of the dead seeks a master
Stretching every muscle, I wait for the end
And a kiss on the wind whispers murder, murder
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
When heaven is closer, its pleasure and pain
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song performed by Black Sabbath
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The Borough. Letter XXII: Peter Grimes
Old Peter Grimes made fishing his employ,
His wife he cabin'd with him and his boy,
And seem'd that life laborious to enjoy:
To town came quiet Peter with his fish,
And had of all a civil word and wish.
He left his trade upon the sabbath-day,
And took young Peter in his hand to pray:
But soon the stubborn boy from care broke loose,
At first refused, then added his abuse:
His father's love he scorn'd, his power defied,
But being drunk, wept sorely when he died.
Yes! then he wept, and to his mind there came
Much of his conduct, and he felt the shame,--
How he had oft the good old man reviled,
And never paid the duty of a child;
How, when the father in his Bible read,
He in contempt and anger left the shed:
"It is the word of life," the parent cried;
--"This is the life itself," the boy replied;
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poem by George Crabbe
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