Poet and Saint! to thee alone are given
The two most sacred names of earth and heaven,
The hard and rarest union which can be
Next that of godhead with humanity.
Long did the Muses banish’d slaves abide,
And built vain pyramids to mortal pride;
Like Moses thou (though spells and charms withstand)
Hast brought them nobly home back to their Holy Land.
Ah wretched we, poets of earth! but thou
Wert living the same poet which thou’rt now.
Whilst angels sing to thee their airs divine,
And joy in an applause so great as thine,
Equal society with them to hold,
Thou need’st not make new songs, but say the old.
And they (kind spirits!) shall all rejoice to see
How little less than they exalted man may be.
Still the old heathen gods in numbers dwell,
The heavenliest thing on earth still keeps up Hell.
Nor have we yet quite purg’d the Christian land;
Still idols here like calves at Bethel stand.
And though Pan’s death long since all oracles broke,
Yet still in rhyme the fiend Apollo spoke:
Nay with the worst of heathen dotage we
(Vain men!) the monster Woman deify;
Find stars, and tie our fates there in a face,
And Paradise in them by whom we lost it, place.
What different faults corrupt our Muses thus
Wanton as girls, as old wives fabulous!
Thy spotless Muse, like Mary, did contain
The boundless Godhead; she did well disdain
That her eternal verse employ’d should be
On a less subject than eternity;
And for a sacred mistress scorn’d to take
But her whom God himself scorn’d not his spouse to make.
It (in a kind) her miracle did do;
A fruitful mother was, and virgin too.
How well, blest swan, did fate contrive thy death;
And make thee render up thy tuneful breath
In thy great mistress’ arms! thou most divine
And richest offering of Loretto’s shrine!
Where like some holy sacrifice t’ expire
A fever burns thee, and Love lights the fire.
Angels (they say) brought the fam’d chapel there,
And bore the sacred load in triumph through the air.
‘Tis surer much they brought thee there, and they,
And thou, their charge, went singing all the way.
Pardon, my Mother Church, if I consent
That angels led him when from thee he went,
For even in error sure no danger is
When join’d with so much piety as his.
Ah, mighty God, with shame I speak’t, and grief,
Ah that our greatest faults were in belief!
And our weak reason were even weaker yet,
Rather than thus our wills too strong for it.
His faith perhaps in some nice tenents might
Be wrong; his life, I’m sure, was in the right.
And I myself a Catholic will be,
So far at least, great saint, to pray to thee.
Hail, bard triumphant! and some care bestow
On us, the poets militant below!
Oppos’d by our old enemy, adverse chance,
Attack’d by envy, and by ignorance,
Enchain’d by beauty, tortured by desires,
Expos’d by tyrant Love to savage beasts and fires.
Thou from low earth in nobler flames didst rise,
And like Elijah, mount alive the skies.
Elisha-like (but with a wish much less,
More fit thy greatness, and my littleness)
Lo here I beg (I whom thou once didst prove
So humble to esteem, so good to love)
Not that thy spirit might on me doubled be,
I ask but half thy mighty spirit for me;
And when my Muse soars with so strong a wing,
‘Twill learn of things divine, and first of thee to sing.
A few random poems:
- Caledonia: A Ballad by Robert Burns
- Константин Бальмонт – Черные вороны
- Last Words poem – Amy Levy poems | Poems and Poetry
- Middlesex poem – John Betjeman poems
- Why do ye torture me? by Patrick Pearse
- Стефан Малларме – В идоложертвенном ликующем костре
- The Last Leap
- Paradise Lost: Book 04 poem – John Milton poems
- Олег Бундур – Если вы придёте в лес
- The Devon Maid: Stanzas Sent In A Letter To B. R. Haydon poem – John Keats poems
- Hey, the Dusty Miller (Song) by Robert Burns
- REFLECTING THE PRAISES by Satish Verma
- Appeal by Ndue Ukaj
- Алексей Николаевич Толстой – Дафнис подслушивает сов
- Владимир Костров – У них в делах анархия и жуть
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Юрий Верховский – Месяцу, заре, звезде, лазури
- Юрий Верховский – Как раненый олень кидается в поток
- Юрий Верховский – Есть имена, таинственны и стары
- Юрий Верховский – Ах, душечка моя, как нынче мне светло
- Жан де Лафонтен – Язычник и деревянный Идол
- Жан де Лафонтен – Врачи
- Жан де Лафонтен – Воля и Неволя
- Жан де Лафонтен – Волк, Мать и Ребенок
- Жан де Лафонтен – Волк и Лисица на суде перед Обезьяной
- Жан де Лафонтен – Волк и Конь
- Жан де Лафонтен – Война Крыс и Ласок
- Жан де Лафонтен – Виноградник и Олень
- Жан де Лафонтен – Утопленница
- Жан де Лафонтен – Третейский Судья, Брат милосердия и Пустынник
- Жан де Лафонтен – Старый Кот и Мышонок
- Жан де Лафонтен – Ссора Собак с Кошками и Кошек с Мышами
- Жан де Лафонтен – Совет Мышей
- Жан де Лафонтен – Смерть и Несчастный
- Жан де Лафонтен – Скупой, потерявший свое богатство
- Жан де Лафонтен – Шершни и Пчелы
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Abraham Cowley (1618 – 1667), the Royalist Poet.Poet and essayist Abraham Cowley was born in London, England, in 1618. He displayed early talent as a poet, publishing his first collection of poetry, Poetical Blossoms (1633), at the age of 15. Cowley studied at Cambridge University but was stripped of his Cambridge fellowship during the English Civil War and expelled for refusing to sign the Solemn League and Covenant of 1644. In turn, he accompanied Queen Henrietta Maria to France, where he spent 12 years in exile, serving as her secretary. During this time, Cowley completed The Mistress (1647). Arguably his most famous work, the collection exemplifies Cowley’s metaphysical style of love poetry. After the Restoration, Cowley returned to England, where he was reinstated as a Cambridge fellow and earned his MD before finally retiring to the English countryside. He is buried at Westminster Abbey alongside Geoffrey Chaucer and Edmund Spenser. Cowley is a wonderful poet and an outstanding representative of the English baroque.