Quotes about satire, page 3
Written At Bath To A Young Lady
You us'd me ill, and I withdrew,
Intent on satirizing you.
The Muses to my Aid I call;
They came; and told me, one and all,
That I mistook their Province quite,
They never sully'd what was bright;
And said, If Satire was my Aim,
I ought to chuse another Theme.
I heard with Anger, and Surprize;
Begg'd they'd inspire, and not advise.
In vain I begg'd--they all withdrew;
When to my Aid a Phantom flew,
And vow'd she'd give my Satire Stings,
And whisper'd some resentful Things--
Said, You delighted, all your Days,
To torture her a thousand Ways:
Bid me revenge her Cause, and mine,
And blacken you in ev'ry Line.
[...] Read more
poem by Mary Barber
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Scourge of Villainy
In serious jest, and jesting seriousness,
I strive to scourge polluting beastliness;
I invocate no Delian deity,
No sacred offspring of Mnemosyne;
I pray in aid of no Castalian Muse,
No nymph, no female angel, to infuse
A sprightly wit to raise my flagging wings,
And teach me tune these harsh discordant strings.
I crave no sirens of our halcyon times,
To grace the accents of my rough-hew'd rhymes;
But grim Reproof, stern Hate of Villainy,
Inspire and guide a Satire's poesy.
Fair Detestation of foul odious sin,
In which our swinish times lie wallowing,
Be thou my conduct and my Genius,
My wits-inciting sweet-breath'd Zephyrus.
O that a Satire's hand had force to pluck
Some floodgate up, to purge the world from muck!
Would God I could turn Alpheus river in,
To purge this Augean oxstall from foul sin!
[...] Read more
poem by John Marston
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Oh! Natural Beauties!
Earth laughs in flowers, flowers laugh in showers,
Sea laughs in fishes, fishes laugh in waters ……
Sky laughs in clouds, clouds laugh in rain, oh sire!
But man laughs in BSNL Towers and what a satire!
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
In the garden with heaven’s flowers
Oh nature’s gifts! You are funny little fellows!
Oh natural beauties, you are dainty little dears!
Come! Come near me, Do you hear me, my little fellows!
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
The woods are full of faeries!
As The trees are the lovers........
The garden is full of angels without worries!
As the flowers are the lovers.........
Nature is a wonderland; it is heaven's abode with elixir,
Thus, I wonder at this nature’s splendor!
[...] Read more
poem by Harindhar Reddy
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
On The Day Of Gogol's Death
How blessed's the good-natured poet,
With little bile and much emotion:
All lovers of the gentle arts
Send him sincerest greetings;
The admiration of the crowd
Sounds in his ear like rippling waves;
He is a stranger to self-doubt-
That torture of creative souls;
Lover of comfort and tranquility,
Shunning audacious satire,
He firmly dominates the crowd
With his peace-loving lyre.
He is not cursed nor driven out
But worshipped for his splendid mind,
While all his countrymen prepare
A monument to him in life.
[...] Read more
poem by Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Famous Moive Poem - Phantom of the Opera
do you cry
the night away
when laughters turn
into a bottle of sobs
of an alcoholic?
your warm heart
finding itself floating
on a lake of ice?
is the fabled tale
in the warmth
of your hands
slipping away
from your grip?
an opera singing
a dissonant tune to
your fantasy?
the director you seek
leaving you in a valley of wants?
[...] Read more
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
I Don't Think
I didn’t think at that time what was is in store,
Life seemed very hard and bore,
No doubt and sure of reaching shore,
Easy going and no ground to explore,
Surrounded by many with everything on hand,
Luxurious and easy going life with vast fertile land,
Parent too busy to crave for future and collecting only wealth,
Their only concern was keeping in me in good health,
I was to inherit very huge empire,
All relatives used words with satire,
I too was happy with entire business
Parent may go off the scene and live with easiness
I didn’t think at that time what was is in store,
Life seemed very hard and bore,
No doubt and sure of reaching shore,
Easy going and no ground to explore,
[...] Read more
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Blunt And Instructive
Words can be blunt and instructive,
but frequently they are destructive.
Far better perhaps to be Trappist
than savagely, hip-hoppy rappist,
but silence is no vow I’m able
to take, so I put up with Babel,
and hope you, also, dear reader,
accept like a Lebanon cedar
that destruction of forests cannot
be avoided when you have a lot
set aside for a temple. The same
applies to the words that we maim
when writing a poem, but silence
is, passive-aggressively, violence.
You have to destroy when instructive;
if not, you will be counterproductive.
Michael Kuczynski in Bryn Mawr Review reviews Sandy Bardsley’s “Venomous Tongues: Speech and Gender in Late Medieval England, “ Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press,2006:
Speech, Chaucer explains in the House of Fame is only broken air. The definition is intended (however scientifically accurate) as
[...] Read more
poem by Gershon Hepner
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Ami, Chez Nos Francois
Ami, chez nos Français ma muse voudrait plaire;
Mais j'ai fui la satire à leurs regards si chère.
Le superbe lecteur, toujours content de lui,
Et toujours plus content s'il peut rire d'autrui,
Veut qu'un nom imprévu, dont l'aspect le déride,
Égayé au bout du vers une rime perfide;
Il s'endort si quelqu'un ne pleure quand il rit.
Mais qu'Horace et sa troupe irascible d'esprit
Daignent me pardonner, si jamais ils pardonnent:
J'estime peu cet art, ces leçons qu'ils nous donnent
D'immoler bien un sot qui jure en son chagrin,
Au rire âcre et perçant d'un caprice malin.
Le malheureux déjà me semble assez à plaindre
D'avoir, même avant lui, vu sa gloire s'éteindre
Et son livre au tombeau lui montrer le chemin,
Sans aller, sous la terre au trop fertile sein,
Semant sa renommée et ses tristes merveilles,
Faire à tous les roseaux chanter quelles oreilles
Sur sa tête ont dressé leurs sommets et leurs poids.
[...] Read more
poem by Andre Marie de Chenier
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
An Account Of The Greatest English Poets
Since, dearest Harry, you will needs request
A short account of all the Muse possest,
That, down from Chaucer's days to Dryden's Times,
Have spent their Noble Rage in British Rhimes;
Without more Preface, wrote in Formal length,
To speak the Undertakers want of strength,
I'll try to make they're sev'ral Beauties known,
And show their Verses worth, tho' not my Own.
Long had our dull Fore-Fathers slept Supine,
Nor felt the Raptures of the Tuneful Nine;
Till Chaucer first, the merry Bard, arose;
And many a Story told in Rhime and Prose.
But Age has Rusted what the Poet writ,
Worn out his Language, and obscur'd his Wit:
In vain he jests in his unpolish'd strain,
And tries to make his Readers laugh in vain.
Old Spencer next, warm'd with Poetick Rage,
In Antick Tales amus'd a Barb'rous Age;
[...] Read more
poem by Joseph Addison
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
To The Right Hon. Mr. Dodington
Long, Dodington, in debt, I long have sought
To ease the burden of my graceful thought:
And now a poet's gratitude you see:
Grant him two favours, and he'll ask for three:
For whose the present glory, or the gain?
You give protection, I a worthless strain.
You love and feel the poet's sacred flame,
And know the basis of a solid fame;
Though prone to like, yet cautious to commend,
You read with all the malice of a friend;
Nor favour my attempts that way alone,
But, more to raise my verse, conceal your own.
An ill-tim'd modesty! turn ages o'er,
When wanted Britain bright examples more?
Her learning, and her genius too, decays;
And dark and cold are her declining days;
As if men now were of another cast,
They meanly live on alms of ages past,
Men still are men; and they who boldly dare,
Shall triumph o'er the sons of cold despair;
[...] Read more
poem by Edward Young
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!