General Chat

No Deanna lol...I googled it ...my memory is good for poetry ...but not THAT good!

Rose xxx

Mine own favourite, from Dr. Johnson:

SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709–84)
London: A Poem in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal (1738)

.. blah blah ...

For who would leave, unbribed, Hibernia’s land,
Or change the rocks of Scotland for the Strand
There none are swept by sudden fate away,
But all whom hunger spares, with age decay:
Here malice, rapine, accident, conspire,
And now a rabble rages, now a fire;
Their ambush here relentless ruffians lay
And here the fell attorney prowls for prey;
Here falling houses thunder on your head,
And here a female atheist talks you dead.
...

Hahahaha.

Wow Rose.... did you REMEMBER all that??

I did it at school, but I couldn't remeber it.

Deanna X

this one Jean?....

The Destruction of Sennacherib

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.

For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

And there lay the rider distorted and pale,
With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,
The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!

-- George Gordon, Lord Byron

How about--- The assyrian came down like a wolf from the fold. Could never remember anymore. Jean

From Omar Khayyam

"The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line"

xxx