You May Also Like / View all maxioms
When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.
When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.
Creator Venus, genial power of love,
The bliss of men below, and gods above!
Beneath the sliding read more
Creator Venus, genial power of love,
The bliss of men below, and gods above!
Beneath the sliding sun thou runn'st thy race,
Dost fairest shine, and best become thy place;
For thee the winds their eastern blasts forbear,
Thy mouth reveals the spring, and opens all the year;
Thee, goddess, thee, the storms of winter fly,
Earth smiles with flowers renewing, laughs the sky.
Shakes his ambroisal curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.
Shakes his ambroisal curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town,
read more
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town,
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the yellow god forever gazes down.
The Graces, three erewhile, are three no more;
A fourth is come with perfume sprinkled o'er.
'Tis read more
The Graces, three erewhile, are three no more;
A fourth is come with perfume sprinkled o'er.
'Tis Berenice blest and fair; were she
Away the Graces would no Graces be.
I, Phoebus, sang those songs that gained so much renown
I, Phoebus, sang them; Homer only wrote them down.
I, Phoebus, sang those songs that gained so much renown
I, Phoebus, sang them; Homer only wrote them down.
The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted
from us the gracious favor of the read more
The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted
from us the gracious favor of the gods.
[Lat., Omnia fanda, nefanda, malo permista furore,
Justificam nobis mentem avertere deorum.]
And that dismal cry rose slowly
And sank slowly through the air,
Full of spirit's melancholy
read more
And that dismal cry rose slowly
And sank slowly through the air,
Full of spirit's melancholy
And eternity's despair!
And they heart the words it said--
Pan is dead! great Pan is dead!
Pan, Pan is dead!
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
read more
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.