tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145150938922509338.post6177979730703178044..comments2023-08-03T08:08:27.776-07:00Comments on Karen's Poetry Spot: Dragonsongs by Anne McCaffreyKaren Ahlstromhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08494601453714239376noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145150938922509338.post-70627337290458838752007-04-25T10:11:00.001-07:002007-04-25T10:11:00.001-07:00So who wrote this wonderful piece? I found this l...So who wrote this wonderful piece? I found this line especially memorable: Or him who as the death spear entered into his vitals Made critical comments on its workmanship and aim<BR/>MomAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8145150938922509338.post-29591527726644214252007-04-25T10:09:00.001-07:002007-04-25T10:09:00.001-07:00On 4/24/07, Douglas Summers Stay wrote:I just came...On 4/24/07, Douglas Summers Stay wrote:<BR/><BR/>I just came across this poem. Someone was saying that the world was leaving Christianity and returning to paganism (exhibit A: Harry Potter) and this poem was used as a rebuttal. C.S. Lewis says "pagans? You aren't fit to be pagans..." <BR/> <BR/>A Cliche Came Out of Its Cage <BR/><BR/><BR/>You said 'The world is going back to paganism'. Oh bright <BR/>Vision! I saw our dynasty in the bar of the House <BR/>Spill from their tumblers a libation to the Erinyes, <BR/>And Levis with Lord Russell wreathed in flowers, heralded with <BR/> flutes, <BR/>Leading white bulls to the cathedral of the solemn Muses <BR/>To pay where due the glory of their latest theorem. <BR/>Hestia's fire in every flat, rekindled, before <BR/>The Lardergods. Unmarried daughters with obedient hands <BR/>Tended it. By the hearth the white-arm'd venerable mother <BR/>_Domum servabat, lanam faciebat._ Duly at the hour <BR/>Of sacrifice their brothers came, silent, corrected, grave <BR/>Before their elders; on their downy cheeks easily the blush <BR/>Arose (it is the mark of freemen's children) as they trooped, <BR/>Gleaming with oil, demurely home from the palaestra or the dance. <BR/>Walk carefully, do not wake the envy of the happy gods, <BR/>Shun Hubris. The middle of the road, the middle sort of men, <BR/>Are best. Aidos surpasses gold. Reverence for the aged <BR/>Is wholesome as seasonable rain, and for a man to die <BR/>Defending the city in battle is a harmonious thing. <BR/>Thus with magistral hand the Puritan Sophrosune <BR/>Cooled and schooled and tempered our uneasy motions; <BR/>Heathendom came again, the circumspection and the holy fears ... <BR/>You said it. Did you mean it? Oh inordinate liar, stop. <BR/><BR/><BR/>Or did you mean another kind of heathenry? <BR/>Think, then, that under heaven-roof the little disc of the earth, <BR/>Fortified Midgard, lies encircled by the ravening Worm. <BR/>Over its icy bastions faces of giant and troll <BR/>Look in, ready to invade it. The Wolf, admittedly, is bound; <BR/>But the bond will break, the Beast run free. The weary gods, <BR/>Scarred with old wounds, the one-eyed Odin, Tyr who has lost a <BR/> hand, <BR/>Will limp to their stations for the last defence. Make it your <BR/> hope <BR/>To be counted worthy on that day to stand beside them; <BR/>For the end of man is to partake of their defeat and die <BR/>His second, final death in good company. The stupid, strong <BR/>Unteachable monsters are certain to be victorious at last, <BR/>And every man of decent blood is on the losing side. <BR/>Take as your model the tall women with yellow hair in plaits <BR/>Who walked back into burning houses to die with men, <BR/>Or him who as the death spear entered into his vitals <BR/>Made critical comments on its workmanship and aim. <BR/>Are these the Pagans you spoke of? Know your betters and crouch, <BR/> dogs; <BR/>You that have Vichy-water in your veins and worship the event, <BR/>Your goddess History (whom your fathers called the strumpet <BR/> Fortune).Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com