Quotes about grasp, page 8
Lines on his Twenty-Third Birthday
LAST evening's huge lax clouds of turbid white
Grew dark and louring, burthened with the rain
Which that long wind monotonous all night
Swept clashing loud through Dreamland's still domain,
Until my spirit in fatigue's despite
Was driven to weary wakefulness again:
With such wild dirge and ceaseless streaming tears
Died out the last of all my ill-used years.
The morn his risen pure and fresh and keen;
Its perfect vault of bright blue heaven spreads bare
Above the earth's wide laughter twinkling green.
The sun, long climbing up with lurid glare
Athwart the storm-rack's rent and hurrying screen,
Leapt forth at dawn to breathe this stainless air;
The strong west wind still streams on full and high,
Inspiring fresher life through earth and sky.
Yon hazeless river flashes silver signs
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poem by James Thomson
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Reullura
Star of the morn and eve,
Reullura shone like thee,
And well for her might Aodh grieve,
The dark-attired Culdee.
Peace to their shades! the pure Culdees
Were Albyn's earliest priests of God,
Ere yet an island of her seas
By foot of Saxon monk was trod,
Long ere her churchmen by bigotry
Were barr'd from wedlock's holy tie.
'Twas then that Aodh, famed afar,
In Iona preach'd the word with power,
And Reullura, beauty's star,
Was the partner of his bower.
But, Aodh, the roof lies low,
And the thistle-down waves bleaching,
And the bat flits to and fro
Where the Gaël once heard thy preaching;
And fall'n is each column'd aisle
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poem by Thomas Campbell (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hieroglyphic Beguile Meant
HIEROGLYPHIC BEGUILE...MEANT
I sought inspiring way to play “beguile”
blood's flood rush-blushing flush, then hibernate,
lush, hid ‘mid hieroglyphics of soft smile.
It dawned that very few can reconcile
emotions' brakes while breaking conscious state,
to draw more definitions for “beguile”.
Most, blind behind closed minds, can’t conjugate
dimensions manifold, unfold, translate,
decypher hieroglyphics of soft smile.
It takes so many lifetimes to compile
right signals light, bright eyes communicate
decoding definitions for “beguile”
into word worlds both varied, versatile,
deep, difficult to truly contemplate -
expanding hieroglyphics of soft smile.
Content observing content, context, style,
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Battle of Cuito Cuanavale
I. Outnumbered by armour (A reply to William Shakespeare)
Outnumbered by armour
and by men we met the enemy,
FAPLA and Cubans under Russian leadership
and the men accompanying me
was very worried
and wished for the whole
of the seventh armoured division
to have been deployed.
I said to the men
in the armoured car with me
that if we must die here in vain,
the fewer men it be
but if we grasp the victory
the world will know
that we are brave and honourable men
capable of destroying whatever faces us.
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poem by Gert Strydom
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Part of an Irregular Fragment
I.
Rise, winds of night! relentless tempests, rise!
Rush from the troubled clouds, and o'er me roll!
In this chill pause a deeper horror lies,
A wilder fear appals my shudd'ring soul!--
'Twas on this day,* this hour accurst,
That Nature, starting from repose,
Heard the dire shrieks of murder burst--
From infant innocence they rose,--
And shook these solemn towers!
I shudd'ring pass that fatal room,
For ages wrapt in central gloom!--
I shudd'ring pass that iron door,
Which fate perchance unlocks no more;
Death, smear'd with blood, o'er the dark portal lowers!
II.
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poem by Helen Maria Williams
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Hymn To Death
Oh! could I hope the wise and pure in heart
Might hear my song without a frown, nor deem
My voice unworthy of the theme it tries,--
I would take up the hymn to Death, and say
To the grim power, The world hath slandered thee
And mocked thee. On thy dim and shadowy brow
They place an iron crown, and call thee king
Of terrors, and the spoiler of the world,
Deadly assassin, that strik'st down the fair,
The loved, the good--that breath'st upon the lights
Of virtue set along the vale of life,
And they go out in darkness. I am come,
Not with reproaches, not with cries and prayers,
Such as have stormed thy stern insensible ear
From the beginning. I am come to speak
Thy praises. True it is, that I have wept
Thy conquests, and may weep them yet again:
And thou from some I love wilt take a life
Dear to me as my own. Yet while the spell
Is on my spirit, and I talk with thee
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poem by William Cullen Bryant
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Laodamia
. "With sacrifice before the rising morn
Vows have I made by fruitless hope inspired;
And from the infernal Gods, 'mid shades forlorn
Of night, my slaughtered Lord have I required:
Celestial pity I again implore;--
Restore him to my sight--great Jove, restore!"
So speaking, and by fervent love endowed
With faith, the Suppliant heavenward lifts her hands;
While, like the sun emerging from a cloud,
Her countenance brightens--and her eye expands;
Her bosom heaves and spreads, her stature grows;
As she expects the issue in repose.
O terror! what hath she perceived?--O joy!
What doth she look on?--whom doth she behold?
Her Hero slain upon the beach of Troy?
His vital presence? his corporeal mould?
It is--if sense deceive her not--'tis He!
And a God leads him, wingèd Mercury!
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poem by William Wordsworth
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Peruvian Tales: Zilia, Tale III
PIZARRO takes possession of Cuzco--The fanaticism of VALVERDA , a
Spanish priest--Its dreadful effects--A Peruvian priest put to the tor-
ture--His Daughter's distress--He is rescued by LAS CASAS , a Spa-
nish ecclesiastic--And led to a place of safety, where he dies--His
Daughter's narration of her sufferings--Her death.
Now stern PIZARRO seeks the distant plains,
Where beauteous Cuzco lifts her golden fanes.
The meek Peruvians gaz'd in wild dismay,
Nor barr'd the dark Oppressor's sanguine way;
And soon on Cuzco, where the dawning light
Of glory shone, foretelling day more bright,
Where the young arts had shed unfolding flowers,
A scene of spreading desolation lowers!
While buried deep in everlasting shade,
That lustre sickens, and those blossoms fade.
And yet, devoted land, not gold alone,
Or dire ambition wak'd thy rising groan;
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poem by Helen Maria Williams
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Theme From Middle Of The Night
(1959) george bassman, chayefsky
Only the lonely love, only the sad of soul,
Wake and begin their day in the middle of the night,
To breakfast on their pride, burnt joys and tears just dried
To breakfast with the moon in the middle of the night.
Then to count once more my miserly store of your kisses
In this darkness restored,
To grasp your absent grace in desperate embrace,
To make your false heart true, in the middle of the night oh oh oh
Then to count once more my miserly store of your kisses
In this darkness restored,
To grasp your absent grace in desperate embrace,
To make your false heart true, in the middle of the night .
song performed by Nina Simone
Added by Lucian Velea
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Power Metal
You say you want it loud
Ill never turn it down
You wanta feel my power
Pound you in the ground
I wanta give you fury
Blow your head apart
Ill leave you comatose
From the very start
You say you want some metal
Ill give you all Ive got
My deadly grasp is lethal
This force will never stop
Power metal
Rock forever
Power metal
On forever
I am the metal beast
The battle dog I deal
My soul was spawned in hell
My body coiled steel
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song performed by Pantera
Added by Lucian Velea
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