Revenge: it's a dream of flames fueled by scorched remains that are lit to a torch and brought back upon the one who burned you.
Stand like a beaten anvil, when thy dreamIs laid upon thee, golden from the fire.Flinch not, though heavily through that furnace-gleamThe black forge-hammers fall on thy desire.Demoniac giants round thee seem to loom.'Tis but the world-smiths heaving to and fro.Stand like a beaten anvil. Take the doomTheir ponderous weapons deal thee, blow on blow.Needful to truth as dew-fall to the flowerIs this wild wrath and this implacable scorn.For every pang, new beauty, and new power,Burning blood-red shall on thy heart be born.Stand like a beaten anvil. Let earth's wrongBeat on that iron and ring back in song.
Collected Poems Complete
Quote Detail
Stand like a beaten anvil, when thy dreamIs laid upon thee, golden from the fire.Flinch not, though heavily through that furnace-gleamThe black forge-hammers fall on thy desire.Demoniac giants round thee seem to loom.'Tis but the world-smiths heaving to and fro.Stand like a beaten anvil. Take the doomTheir ponderous weapons deal thee, blow on blow.Needful to truth as dew-fall to the flowerIs this wild wrath and this implacable scorn.For every pang, new beauty, and new power,Burning blood-red shall on thy heart be born.Stand like a beaten anvil. Let earth's wrongBeat on that iron and ring back in song.
Quick Answer
What this quote page tells you
This canonical quote page keeps the full saying, the attributed author, any linked work, and the topic tags together so the quote can be cited from one stable URL.
Related Quotes
More quote cards from the same area
A moment of silence settled over all of them. Then Velva broke it. __e are the hunter and the haunter, the haunted and hunted.___ut for what purpose?_ asked Sir Sun.__t is all for the same purpose, Timothy._ The empty that wish to be full.
Love is always worth the risks, even when, especially when, it scares you.
Be dangerous, darling, for the whole world rises and falls at your feet.
Despite the horror, we survivors were endowed with a will to survive. Or instinct. Or maybe it was faith.
Bill suited the action to the word, getting up and leaning over the handlebars and pumping the pedals at a lunatic rate. Looking at Bill's back, which was amazingly broad for a boy of eleven-going-on-twelve, watching it work under the duffel coat, the shoulders slanting first one way and then the other as he shifted his weight from one pedal to the other, Richie suddenly became sure that they were invulnerable...they would live forever and ever.