Lanced Hearts of Lovers & Martyrs
I'm Eric, a young poet who seems to have been swept away in the Romantic Spirit of Beethoven's Symphonies, struck by the philosophies of Plato & the Poets' lyrics, burned for love like the martyrs of Rome, and can see an honest beauty in love & faith.This blog is dedicated to my passions in Poetry, Literature, History, Philosophy, and Music, along with exploring the beauty and truth in the Christian faith-- how it rebels and transcends the ways of the world and burns it ablaze; preaches it's the Heart that counts, sings how Love endures, and that Truth is a beautiful Bride & hypocrisy a sin. It reveals that love is self-less, death is no end, and that there's no greater love than to lay down your life for your friends.
• Faith & Philosophy
• History (esp. 19th cen.-WWI)
• Poetry & Literature
• Catholicism
• Christ
• St. Justin Martyr
• Socrates
• Victor Hugo
• J.R.R. Tolkien
• Richard Wagner
"Reason directs those who are truly pious and philosophical to honour and love only what is true, declining to follow traditional opinions, if these be worthless."
-St. Justin Martyr
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seattle theme by parker ehret
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A midnight drive with Beethoven’s 9th.
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Ludwig II | Teaser (2012) (by via)
If ever there was a reason to learn German. A movie on Bavaria’s ‘Mad Swan King.’ I can only imagine the gratuitous amounts of Wagner it’ll have…
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40 playsMaria CallasAndrea Chenier - La Mamma MortaPlatinum Collection
La Mamma Morta- ‘Mother Death’, aria from Giordano’s Andrea Chénier.
Within the tragic song, the life of the fallen countess Maddalena is told— how her mother perished saving her in the flames of her childhood house (‘the home that craddled me is burning!’) by the hands of the French Revolution; how her maid, the only faithful love she knew thenceforth, ‘sold her beauty’ into prostitution to care for her— But yet, when all light was gone, and any hope she found in life had died away, the Strings of a new theme break the old, and she sings,It was then, in my grief,
that love came to me.
A voice full of harmony says,
“You must live, I am life itself!
Your heaven is in my eyes!
You are not alone.
I shall collect all your tears
I will walk with you and support you!
Smile and hope! I am Love!
Are you surrounded by blood and mire?
I am Divine! I am Oblivion!
I am the God who saves the World
I descend from Heaven and make this Earth
A heaven! Ah!
I am love, love, love.”
And the angel approaches with a kiss,
and he kisses death -
A dying body is my body.
So take it.
I am already dead matter!—She sings all this of her new-found love in Andrea Chénier; a poet ever enthralled in Truth and Beauty— whom with she is to share in his death in the final scene, at the guillotines of St. Lazare Prison.
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Joan of Arc, Henryk Hector Siemiradzki. Polish (1843 - 1902)
(Source: poboh)
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"These two creatures were resplendent. They had reached that irrevocable and irrecoverable moment, at the dazzling intersection of all youth and all joy. They realized the verses of Jean Prouvaire; they were forty years old taken together. It was marriage sublimated; these two children were two lilies. They did not see each other, they did not contemplate each other. Cosette perceived Marius in the midst of a glory; Marius perceived Cosette on an altar. And on that altar, and in that glory, the two apotheoses mingling, in the background, one knows not how, behind a cloud for Cosette, in a flash for Marius, there was the ideal thing, the real thing, the meeting of the kiss and the dream, the nuptial pillow. All the torments through which they had passed came back to them in intoxication. It seemed to them that their sorrows, their sleepless nights, their tears, their anguish, their terrors, their despair, converted into caresses and rays of light, rendered still more charming the charming hour which was approaching; and that their griefs were but so many handmaidens who were preparing the toilet of joy. How good it is to have suffered! Their unhappiness formed a halo round their happiness. The long agony of their love was terminating in an ascension."
— Victor Hugo, Les Misérables . -
Napoleon I and the King of Rome at Saint-Cloud in 1811
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The moon lent her pale light to this funereal watching.
Gustave Doré, from Atala, by François-René de Chateaubriand, New York, 1889.
(Source: archive.org)
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"The bird seems to be the true emblem of the Christian here below. Like him, it prefers solitude to the world, heaven to earth, and its voice is ever occupied in celebrating the wonders of the Creator."
— Francois-Rene Chateaubriand
