Gloria
I try to sing this song
I, I try to stand up
But I can't find my feet
I try, I try to speak up
But only in you I'm complete
Gloria, in te domine
Gloria, exultate
Gloria, gloria
Oh Lord, loosen my lips
I try to sing this song
I, I try to get in
But I can't find the door
The door is open
You're standing there
You let me in
Gloria, in te domine
Gloria, exultate
Oh Lord, if I had anything
Anything at all
I'd give it to you…
Comments
Plato, "Theaetetus"
Theaetetus: I have often set my myself to study that problem [about the nature of knowledge]...but I cannot persuade myself that I can give any satisfactory solution or that anyone has ever stated in my hearing the sort of answer you require. And yet I cannot get the question out of my mind.
Socrates: That is because your mind is not empty or barren. You are suffering the pains of childbirth...Have you never heard that I am the son of a midwife...and that I practice the same trade? It is not known that I possess this skill, so the ignorant world describes me in other terms: As an eccentric person who reduces people to hopeless perplexity...
The only difference [between my trade and that of midwives] is that my patients are men, not women, and my concern is not with the body but with the soul that is experiencing birth pangs. And the highest achievement of my art is the power to try by every test to decide whether the offspring of a young man's thought is a false phantom or is something imbued with life and truth.
I am like the midwife, in that I cannot myself give birth to wisdom. The common reproach is true, that, though I question others, I can myself bring nothing to light because there is no wisdom in me...Of myself I have no sort of wisdom, nor has any discovery ever been born to me as the child of my soul. Those who frequent my company at first appear, some of them, quite unintelligent, but, as we go further with our discussions, [some] make progress at a rate that seems surprising to others as well as to themselves, although it is clear that they have never learned anything from me. The many admirable truths which they bring to birth have been discovered by themselves from within...
The proof of this is that many who have not been conscious of my assistance but have made light of me, thinking it was all their own doing, have left me sooner than they should...and then suffered miscarriage of their thoughts through falling into bad company. They lost the children of whom I had delivered them by bringing them up badly, caring more for false phantoms than for the true...
Those who seek my company have the same experience as a woman giving birth. They suffer labor pains and by night and day are full of distress. My art has power to bring on these pains or alleviate them.
Just call me as they do in the "Paradise", Swan...
Philip Freneau - 1752-1832
The Indian chief who, famed of yore,
Saw Europe's sons adventuring here,
Looked, sorrowing, to the crowded shore,
And sighing dropt a tear!
He saw them half his world explore,
He saw them draw the shining blade,
He saw their hostile ranks displayed,
And cannons blazing through that shade
Where only peace was known before.
“Ah, what unequal arms!” he cried,
“How art thou fallen, my country's pride,
“The rural, sylvan reign!
“Far from our pleasing shores to go
“To western rivers, winding slow,
“Is this the boon the gods bestow!
“What have we done, great patrons, say,
“That strangers seize our woods away,
“And drive us naked from our native plain?
“Rage and revenge inspire my soul,
“And passion burns without controul;
“Hence, strangers, to your native shore!
“Far from our Indian shades retire,
“Remove these gods that vomit fire,
“And stain with blood these ravaged glades no more;
“In vain I weep, in vain I sigh,
“These strangers all our arms defy,
“As they advance our chieftains die!—
“What can their hosts oppose!
“The bow has lost its wonted spring,
“The arrow faulters on the wing,
“Nor carries ruin from the string
“To end their being and our woes.
“Yes, yes,—I see our nation bends;
“The gods no longer are our friends;—
“But why these weak complaints and sighs?
“Are there not gardens in the west,
“Where all our far-famed Sachems rest?—
“I'll go, an unexpected guest,
“And the dark horrors of the way despise.
“Even now the thundering peals draw nigh,
“’Tis theirs to triumph, ours to die!
“But mark me, Christian, ere I go—
“Thou, too, shalt have thy share of woe;
“The time rolls on, not moving slow,
“When hostile squadrons for your blood shall come,
“And ravage all your shore!
“Your warriors and your children slay,
“And some in dismal dungeons lay,
“Or lead them captive far away
“To climes unknown, through seas untried before.
“When struggling long, at last with pain
“You break a cruel tyrant's chain,
“That never shall be joined again,
“When half your foes are homeward fled,
“And hosts on hosts in triumph led,
“And hundreds maimed and thousands dead,
“A sordid race will then succeed,
“To slight the virtues of the firmer race,
“That brought your tyrant to disgrace,
“Shall give your honours to an odious train,
“Who shunned all conflicts on the main
“And dared no battles on the bloody plain,
“Whose little souls sunk in the gloomy day
“When virtue only could support the fray
“And sunshine friends kept off—or ran away.”
So spoke the chief, and raised his funeral pyre—
Around him soon the crackling flames ascend;
He smiled amid the fervours of the fire
To think his troubles were so near their end,
’Till the freed soul, her debt to nature paid,
Rose from the ashes that her prison made,
And sought the world unknown, and dark oblivion's shade.
Kawanio che Keeteru!
....NOW LEWIS, when it was too late,
Saw plainly his approaching Fate;
Yet, dauntless, bravely play'd his Part,
'Till GEORGE's Sword had pierc'd his Heart
At which he fell; and falling, cry'd,
MY PUNISHMENT IS JUST; and dy'd.
NOW from the Multitude around,
Loud Acclamations shake the Ground;
Crying, Now all our Fears are fled,
For, lo! the lawless Tyrant's dead;
May Heaven its choicest Gifts bestow,
Upon the Man that gave the Blow.
GEORGE, now all Tenderness appears;
Nor could he stop the flowing Tears
Page 9
But stood▪ revolving in his Mind,
The various Follies of Mankind,
Then on the Dead he cast his Eye,
And thus addressed the Standers by:
"I'm griev'd, said he, that one so brave,
"Should thus untimely fill the Grave:
"But when at Truth Men shut their Eyes,
"And Reason's sacred Laws despise,
"Will make their vicious Wills their Law,
"And keep by Force the World in awe,
"Rob us of Freedom, Life and Treasure,
"And tell us, 'tis their Will and Pleasure;
"Then the Oppress'd should have Recourse
"To Arms, and right themselves by Force:
"And he that will his Freedom lose,
"Rather than Force with Force oppose,
"Let crazy Heads say all they can,
"Does not deserve the Name of Man.