Some blind themselves, ’cause possibly they may
Be led by others a right way;
They build on sands, which if unmov’d they find,
‘T is but because there was no wind.
Less hard ‘t is, not to err ourselves, than know
If our forefathers err’d or no.
When we trust men concerning God, we then
Trust not God concerning men.
Visions and inspirations some expect
Their course here to direct;
Like senseless chemists their own wealth destroy,
Imaginary gold t’ enjoy.
So stars appear to drop to us from sky,
And gild the passage as they fly:
But when they fall, and meet th’opposing ground,
What but a sordid slime is found?
Sometimes their fancies they ‘bove reason set,
And fast, that they may dream of meat;
Sometimes ill spirits their sickly souls delude,
And bastard forms obtrude:
So Endor’s wretched sorceress, although
She Saul through his disguise did know,
Yet, when the devil comes up disguis’d, she cries,
” Behold! the Gods arise.”
In vain, alas! these outward hopes are try’d;
Reason within’s our only guide;
Reason, which (God be prais’d!) still walks, for all
Its old original fall:
And, since itself the boundless Godhead join’d
With a reasonable mind,
It plainly shows that mysteries divine
May with our reason join.
The holy book, like the eighth sphere, does shine
With thousand lights of truth divine:
So numberless the stars, that to the eye
It makes but all one galaxy.
Yet Reason must assist too; for, in seas
So vast and dangerous as these,
Our course by stars above we cannot know,
Without the compass too below.
Though Reason cannot through Faith’s mysteries see,
It sees that there and such they be;
Leads to heaven’s door, and there does humbly keep,
And there through chinks and key-holes peep;
Though it, like Moses, by a sad command,
Must not come in to th’ Holy Land,
Yet thither it infallibly does guide,
And from afar ‘t is all descry’d.
A few random poems:
- My Song by Rabindranath Tagore
- Where Be Ye Going, You Devon Maid? poem – John Keats poems
- All through eternity by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- A Teenage Pregnancy
- Woman Work by Maya Angelou
- Sonnet 105: Let not my love be called idolatry by William Shakespeare
- Ode to the Bat , a Sonnet
- Under The Round Tower by William Butler Yeats
- Women’s Song Of The Corn poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- We embraced and talked about rains by Vinko Kalinic
- The Helmet by Philip Levine
- Not Heat Flames up and Consumes. by Walt Whitman
- Paying The Captain by Russell Edson
- Владимир Высоцкий – Охота на кабанов
- Вера Павлова – Покамест я всем детям тётя
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
- To A Little Girl That Has Told A Lie
- Guillaume de Lorris Belated: A Vision of Italy by Ezra Pound
- An Ode to the Democratic Rat
- Sonnet, an encyclopedic definition
- To A Feminist
- 对于女权主义者
- To the Rat’s Pencil
- 致老鼠的铅笔
- Toward Salvation
- My rat
- I Love My Rat
- 我爱我的老鼠
- Афанасий Фет – Сад весь в цвету
- Impostor’s Coronation
- Monster’s Cave
- 白色四月
- White April
- 我被包围了
- Surrounded
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.