"nereid" poems
How dull the wretch, whose philosophic mind
Disdains the pleasures of fantastic kind;
Whose prosy thoughts the joys of life exclude,
And wreck the solace of the poet's mood!
Young Zeno, practis'd in the Stoic's art,
Rejects the language of the glowing heart;
Dissolves sweet Nature to a mess of laws;
Condemns th' effect whilst looking for the cause;
Freezes poor Ovid in an iced review,
And sneers because his fables are untrue!
In search of hope the hopeful zealot goes,
But all the sadder tums, the more he knows!
Stay! Vandal sophist, whose deep lore would blast
The grateful legends of the storied past;
Whose tongue in censure flays th' embellish'd page,
And scorns the comforts of a dreary age:
Wouldst strip the foliage from the vital bough
Till all men grow as wisely dull as thou?
Happy the man whose fresh, untainted eye
Discerns a Pantheon in the spangled sky;
Finds sylphs and dryads in the waving trees,
And spies soft Notus in the southern breeze
For whom the stream a cheering carol sings,
While reedy music by the fountain rings;
To whom the waves a Nereid tale confide
Till friendly presence fills the rising tide.
Happy is he, who void of learning's woes,
Th' ethereal life of bodied Nature knows;
I scorn the sage that tells me it but seems,
And flout his gravity in sunlight dreams!
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’Twas on a lofty vase’s side,
Where China’s gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow,
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima, reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.
Her conscious tail her joy declared;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw; and purred applause.
Still had she gazed; but ’midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The genii of the stream:
Their scaly armour’s Tyrian hue
Through richest purple to the view
Betrayed a golden gleam.
The hapless nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first, and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,
She stretched, in vain, to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise?
What cat’s averse to fish?
Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again she stretched, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between:
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled)
The slippery verge her feet beguiled,
She tumbled headlong in.
Eight times emerging from the flood
She mewed to ev’ry wat’ry god
Some speedy aid to send.
No dolphin came, no nereid stirred;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.
A fav’rite has no friend!
From hence, ye beauties undeceived,
Know, one false step is ne’er retrieved,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wand’ring eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters, gold.
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Though thou did’st hear the tempest from afar,
And felt’st the horrors of the wat’ry war,
To me unknown, yet on this peaceful shore
Methinks I hear the storm tumultuous roar,
And how stern Boreas with impetuous hand
Compell’d the Nereids to usurp the land.
Reluctant rose the daughters of the main,
And slow ascending glided o’er the plain,
Till ****** in his rapid chariot drove
In gloomy grandeur from the vault above:
Furious he comes. His winged sons obey
Their frantic sire, and madden all the sea.
The billows rave, the wind’s fierce tyrant roars,
And with his thund’ring terrors shakes the shores:
Broken by waves the vessel’s frame is rent,
And strows with planks the wat’ry element.
But thee, Maria, a kind Nereid’s shield
Preserv’d from sinking, and thy form upheld:
And sure some heav’nly oracle design’d
At that dread crisis to instruct thy mind
Things of eternal consequence to weigh,
And to thine heart just feelings to convey
Of things above, and of the future doom,
And what the births of the dread world to come.
From tossing seas I welcome thee to land.
“Resign her, Nereid,” ’twas thy God’s command.
Thy spouse late buried, as thy fears conceiv’d,
Again returns, thy fears are all reliev’d:
Thy daughter blooming with superior grace
Again thou see’st, again thine arms embrace;
O come, and joyful show thy spouse his heir,
And what the blessings of maternal care!
2.1k
Dear World
I'm no Aphrodite
I have not the powers
of Zeus
I might be closer
to Hades
but I'm not so
obtuse
I can't handle separation
just like Persephone
or handle rejection
like Narcissus
I'm not built like that
you see?
I don't dance like Callisto
nor frolic like Nereid
I would like think
I'm not so frivolous
as that
I'm not one to look upon
a perfectly formed vista
and pronounce myself
Queen of all
but in a small voice
in the dark of night
I whisper
I'm not Atlas either
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 3:12 AM UTC
in stages i observe
arduous lifting
it is the place where
upon a time
the ancient lover chased a nereid
in the waters of clear stream
she got goddess's spell and was turn into waters
through the sea the lover, god of river reached her
and they mingled in bewildered ***********
untill wind had faned their moans
and embodied forever their love-celebration
in the minds of those who read this ancient myth..
Dec 29, 2013
Dec 29, 2013 at 9:41 AM UTC
down by the river where Seven Moons
carried Apollos' body to his grave
darkness lurked beneath the shadows
little Moon knew she should behave
as she bathed in golden sunlight
Nereid quested to see who bled,
who died by her hand that night
drowning in a glittering river of tears
~ un~shed~
softly broken lips, cracked with ice
kissed the Sun, to recoil at the heat
a stunted reminder that light burns
she recedes into darkness
~her retreat~
Feb 8, 2012
Feb 8, 2012 at 6:21 AM UTC
Like a nereid,
Acutely aware of how to cause a flow.
But I was mistaken,
Sprawled across the ground as
Dianthus grows.
She thought herself a hunter.
I wish I were prey.
May 18, 2024
May 18, 2024 at 6:58 AM UTC
Writhing sea of dancing faces
Roiled by electric currents
From a storm that I can’t see-
No high, no low, no ebbing
Just tumaltism from
One Sean cut to another.
In the middle is a wooden box
Painted big and black and square.
On it is a Nereid
Arms out flung, long red hair flying
Turning in the basting of the spotlights
So willow-thin above the starfish in the tide pools.
Powered by the lack of sun
She floats her rhythms
On the breakers
And becomes a beacon
For lost eyes and hopeless dreams.
How I wish I was her sister
Cousin or best friend.
How I’d love to fusion with her
Show her where she got her licks.
But I hold back- I don’t dare it
My time was yesterday
Today is hers alone
I must be jetsam on the shore
So sad that my tide’s moving out as
Hers is rolling in.
If I could only be her peer
Instead of Sea Waif’s mother.
ljm
Jan 30, 2023
Jan 30, 2023 at 9:03 AM UTC
Ione Plexaure Calypso
daughters of Poseidon
sisters three
temptress's of highest order
beckon me
onwards under blanket of darkness
evening star sole guiding light
nocturnes singing sweetly
deliver me through this night.
Nereid nymph's steer me
blind seafarers stolen sight
rarest fair silk drawn white
are your intimate delights,
best listen softly singing,
hearts can never leave,
but know allure,
that in those luscious seas,
bring calm waters, a gentle breeze,
my repose, my peace
J.C. 15/02/2019.
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 12:52 AM UTC