Quotes about encircle, page 7
* * *
I walk alone and cry out under the stars.
As one in a desert I hunger for refreshment.
I have need of the coolness of some azure pool.
O, I would anoint my bosom with the clear water!
O, I would immerse myself in the emulous depths!
O, I would drink of ineffable dreams.
You, Beloved, are the silvery lake shimmering in the desert of my youth.
You only can allay the fever of my spirit!
On your lips I should drain the fountain of life.
On your white breast I shall breath the perfume of numberless lilies.
Therein I shall die a thousand deaths and arise reborn in the awful splendor of your love….
* * * * *
Lay your hands,—softer than dove’s wings,—in my hands so I may feel your young life flowing into mine thro’ your finger-tips.
Lay your eyes upon my eyes that I may grow tremulous beneath the flutter of your eyelids.
Lay your heart against my heart that I may hear your love summoning me to forgetfulness.
Lay your tresses about me that I may feel their warm sun streaming thro’ my veins.
Lay your mouth on my mouth until all dissolves in mist about me….
(Is it life? Is it death?)
* * * * *
You are as a million birds that sing unto my heart, O, Beloved.
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poem by Blanche Shoemaker Wagstaff from The Book of Love (1917)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Torrent
OH torrent, roaring in thy giant fall,
And thund'ring grandly o'er th' opposing blocks,
Thy voice, far louder than the lion's call,
Through trackless forests shakes the heart of rocks,
Runs through the marrow of the earth with shocks,
Lashes the clouds with terror, for they fly
Along the high wide blue with streaming locks,
And round thee foam white dazzling flashes high
And with forked water-flames half licks the central sky.
Oh, what a storm of waters! Oh, what chasms
Of foam! what seething hills! what whirling rain!
Billows on billows press, though torn by spasms;
Wounded and bleeding, yet defying pain!
They grappled with the stones, that gnash in vain
Their cruel teeth, for smarting wounds they brave,
And toss in scorn their wildly flowing mane,
When with exulting cries big wave on wave
Rolls with a mighty sweep o'er a slain foeman's grave.
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poem by Mathilde Blind
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The Count Of Hapsburg
At Aix-la-Chapelle, in imperial array,
In its halls renowned in old story,
At the coronation banquet so gay
King Rudolf was sitting in glory.
The meats were served up by the Palsgrave of Rhine,
The Bohemian poured out the bright sparkling wine,
And all the Electors, the seven,
Stood waiting around the world-governing one,
As the chorus of stars encircle the sun,
That honor might duly be given.
And the people the lofty balcony round
In a throng exulting were filling;
While loudly were blending the trumpets' glad sound,
The multitude's voices so thrilling;
For the monarchless period, with horror rife,
Has ended now, after long baneful strife,
And the earth had a lord to possess her.
No longer ruled blindly the iron-bound spear,
And the weak and the peaceful no longer need fear
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poem by Friedrich Schiller
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A British PHILIPPIC
Occasion'd by the Insults of the
Spaniards
, and the present Preparations for War, 1738.
Whence this unwonted Transport in my Breast?
Why glow my Thoughts, and whither would the Muse
Aspire with rapid Wing? Her Country's Cause
Demands her Efforts; at that sacred Call
She summons all her Ardor, throws aside
The trembling Lyre, and with the Warrior Trump
She means to thunder in each
British
Ear.
And if one Spark of Courage, Sense of Fame,
Disdain of Insult, Dread of Infamy,
One Thought of public Virtue yet survive,
She means to wake it, rouze the gen'rous Flame,
With Patriot Zeal inspirit ev'ry Breast,
And fire each
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poem by Mark Akenside
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War Ensemble
Propaganda death ensemble
Burial to be
Corpses rotting through the night
In blood laced misery
Scorched earth the policy
The reason for the ?singe?
The pendulum it shaves the blade
The strafing air blood raid
Infiltration push reserves
Encircle the front lines
Supreme art of strategy
Playing on the minds
Bombard till submission
Take all to their graves
Indication of triumph
The number that are dead
Sport the war
song performed by Slayer from Seasons In The Abyss
Added by Lucian Velea
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Creature
A shadow glides above my plate
And all I see is birds migrate
Going south, remember me
When you fly above the sea
Autumn dies serene and slow
The lamp stands in a gentle glow
The silence rules, the evening grows
And the moon is far below
In me twist a sudden cramp
In my heart I hear it stamp
Marrow and blood encircle me
My blood stream chokes on gall and spleen
What will become of you
Since you have forsaken me
Not one tear I have in me
I am numb to my memory
Ill believe than that youre dead
First I felt bitter, I made amends
But I see you in a new light
You only have my contempt
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song performed by Xymox
Added by Lucian Velea
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Creature
A shadow glides above my plate
And all I see is birds migrate
Going south, remember me
When you fly above the sea
Autumn dies serene and slow
The lamp stands in a gentle glow
The silence rules, the evening grows
And the moon is far below
In me twist a sudden cramp
In my heart I hear it stamp
Marrow and blood encircle me
My blood stream chokes on gall and spleen
What will become of you
Since you have forsaken me
Not one tear I have in me
I am numb to my memory
Ill believe than that youre dead
First I felt bitter, I made amends
But I see you in a new light
You only have my contempt
[...] Read more
song performed by Xymox
Added by Lucian Velea
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Solid State
Live for the cause pain dies for
Deems real the shadows of the door
Set falls thru the halls of time
There dwells landfill's crime
You ask how ? Solid State !
Kill for the need sick lost time
Pidgeons falling to ground
Bury graves fill beyond lies
Deep bruise falling to die
You ask how ? Solid State !
Rot around pray their coming for you
The one to die predecessor
Taking the souls and trade what we want
The fabric of life we dont know deciding
Go to the place of sacrifice
With the jewels preventing access
Above with land kills battery
Encircle the weak preparing the souls of life
Rot around pray their coming for you
The one to die predecessor
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song performed by Obituary
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Man
My man
Muscles from hand to foot
Completely covered in uninteruppted skin
My man
Signals command the leg
To follow orders coming down from headquarters
Why then am I in bed?
I guess my mans fallen out with my head
May I direct your attention to the following simile
Youre like the coasts of an ocean
Buried beneath is a submarine cable
Connecting the opposite shores that surround it
My man
How can he stand?
Your fingers could encircle clear around the ankle
My man wont walk again
In conflict with express instructions given by the brain
Why cant the message be sent?
I guess my mans fallen out with my head
When something happens to drag on the floor of the ocean
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song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Evangeline: Part The Second. V.
IN that delightful land, which is washed by the Delaware's waters,
Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle.
Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded.
There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of beauty,
And the streets still re-echo the names of the trees of the forest,
As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they molested.
There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an exile,
Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country.
There old René Leblanc had died; and when he departed,
Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descendants.
Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the city,
Something that spake to her heart, and made her no longer a stranger;
And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of the Quakers,
For it recalled the past, the old Acadian country,
Where all men were equal, and all were brothers and sisters.
So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed endeavor,
Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, uncomplaining,
Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her thoughts and her footsteps.
As from a mountain's top the rainy mists of the morning
Roll away, and afar we behold the landscape below us,
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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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