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Ced-gee

hello!"
"ced gee, champion"
"hello! i'm back again"
"ced gee, champion"
[ced gee]
I'm a radar, sendin message to competitors
Eliminating, another predator
From the face, of the earth
Not the first to feel the wrath, of my curse
Competing, just like david and goliath
My rhyme's a slingshot, and yes they triumph
Over the weak, minds, who claim they giants
I'm more defiant, while you're relyin
On, your weak rhymin with connectors
But i'm ced gee, the rhymin inspector
Delta force, number one, omega supreme soundwave
Bringing your dreams to reality
And by the formality of thoughts
Yes, atomic of course
You steppin to me, you take a loss
Radical, the replication of a quasar
A pulsar, immense to suplicate
Crush a germ, then further eradicate
Destroy, which means to eliminate
Wipeout, remove, erase, and annhilate
Suckers, crews to soloists
You need a barricade, my rhyme's a hand grenade
Blowing up your brain, techniques astonishing
Just like endust, my rhymes are polishing
Rappers, cause to me you're like furniture
Dusty old and gray, and i'ma cleanse your soul
Rap to take control
I'm ced gee, and i'm on a roll
My name's the delta
"ced gee, a champion"
"ced gee, a champion"
Back to take control as i begin
To rip this mic apart, from end to end
Combine the rhyme that's mines to make em blend
Produce a beat that's dope
I hope you smoke the dope i wrote i quote
I made your brain choke - you need an antidote
Of, rhymes, just like funky potions
It killed your membranes, so now you're hopin
That you can become, another intellect
But you're a dummy, your rhymes can't connect
Metaphors, cause your style is very basic
You leave traces, you have no aces
Jacks, kings or queens, or even deuces
I'm like spades, you can't renege this

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Radar For Love

Passion fire runnin through my veins
Get a little bit of love and I go insane
I may talk big, baby, I dont lie
Ooh the guys dont know but the girls know why
Ooh girls know why, whoo oh
Get down and get to it
I know you can do it
Get down and get to it
I know you can do it, oh, oh, oh, oh
Radar for love, radar for love
Ive got radar for love
Radar for love, ooh yeah
When you feel so hot that you cant hold still
And you dont know how youre gonna get your fill
Send an s.o.s. baby, Im your man
If I dont make good baby no one can
Oh no one can, whoo oh
Get down and get to it
I know you can do it, come on
Get down and get to it
I know you can do it, oh, oh, oh, oh
Radar for love, radar for love
Ive got radar for love
Radar, oh, oh
Radar for love, radar for love
Radar, radar for love, oh
Yeah, ooh yeah, one more time
Get down, ooh get down, get down, oh, oh, oh
Radar for love, radar for love
Ive got radar for love
Radar, ooh baby, baby
Radar for love, radar for love
Radar for love, n-n-n-n-now, radar for love, come on
Radar, ooh, radar, ooh yeah
Radar, oh, radar, oh yeah, radar, oh yeah
Radar for love, radar, come on, radar, ha, radar, radar
S.o.s, radar, radar, get the message, sugar, radar, radar for love

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John Dryden

Absalom and Achitophel

In pious times, e'er Priest-craft did begin,
Before Polygamy was made a sin;
When man, on many, multiply'd his kind,
E'r one to one was, cursedly, confind:
When Nature prompted, and no law deny'd
Promiscuous use of Concubine and Bride;
Then, Israel's monarch, after Heaven's own heart,
His vigorous warmth did, variously, impart
To Wives and Slaves; And, wide as his Command,
Scatter'd his Maker's Image through the Land.
Michal, of Royal blood, the Crown did wear,
A Soyl ungratefull to the Tiller's care;
Not so the rest; for several Mothers bore
To Godlike David, several Sons before.
But since like slaves his bed they did ascend,
No True Succession could their seed attend.
Of all this Numerous Progeny was none
So Beautifull, so brave as Absalon:
Whether, inspir'd by some diviner Lust,
His father got him with a greater Gust;
Or that his Conscious destiny made way
By manly beauty to Imperiall sway.
Early in Foreign fields he won Renown,
With Kings and States ally'd to Israel's Crown
In Peace the thoughts of War he could remove,
And seem'd as he were only born for love.
What e'er he did was done with so much ease,
In him alone, 'twas Natural to please.
His motions all accompanied with grace;
And Paradise was open'd in his face.
With secret Joy, indulgent David view'd
His Youthfull Image in his Son renew'd:
To all his wishes Nothing he deny'd,
And made the Charming Annabel his Bride.
What faults he had (for who from faults is free?)
His Father could not, or he would not see.
Some warm excesses, which the Law forbore,
Were constru'd Youth that purg'd by boyling o'r:
And Amnon's Murther, by a specious Name,
Was call'd a Just Revenge for injur'd Fame.
Thus Prais'd, and Lov'd, the Noble Youth remain'd,
While David, undisturb'd, in Sion raign'd.
But Life can never be sincerely blest:
Heaven punishes the bad, and proves the best.
The Jews, a Headstrong, Moody, Murmuring race,
As ever try'd th' extent and stretch of grace;
God's pamper'd people whom, debauch'd with ease,
No King could govern, nor no God could please;
(Gods they had tri'd of every shape and size
That Gods-smiths could produce, or Priests devise.)

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White Flag

I say black, you say white
I say day, you call it a night
Whats wrong with this scene
What does this mean
You set me up, shoot me down
Im wounded on this battleground
Its time, for sure, for ending this war
Cuz my heart cant take anymore
Sendin up, sendin up, sendin up a white flag
Love wont have a chance if all we do is just fight about it
Sendin up, sendin up, sendin up a white flag
Damn these circumstance
Love is headed for a fall
So before we lose it all, oh baby
Im sendin up a white flag
Place no blame, whats the use
Lay these weapons down and call a truce
Cant we (cant we) work it out (work it out)
Cuz I love you baby, aint no doubt
Isnt that what loves about
Sendin up, sendin up, sendin up a white flag
Love wont have a chance if all we do is fight about it
Sendin up, sendin up, sendin up a white flag
Damn these circumstance
Love is headed for a fall
So before we lose it all, oh baby
Im sendin up a white flag
(repeat)
Im sendin up a white flag

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Watch Me Now

watch me now"
"watch me now"
[k.keith] watch me..
"watch me now"
[ced gee] yo kool keith, why everybody gotta watch you?
[kool keith]
Well i'm the ultimate, the rhyme imperial
I'm better, but some don't believe me though
But i'm a pro in hot material
On your walkman, box or any stereo
Uno, dos not quatro
Spanish girls, they like to call me pancho
On the mic, innovating this pat-ter-en
You fell off, your brain is on sa-tur-en
Take steps, and climb my ladder-and
Climb... climb, climb
Pace the rhythm, and clock the time
That i leave, come back on beat
Different, telling and selling
Like a skyjet, plane propelling
But dwelling, deep in your skull
My rhyme shines, and yours is dull
Like dirt, it hurt to be wacker
But instead, i'll grab a big stack of
Wack mc's, lay em down like tile
Scrap and garbage, germs i'll pile
To keep clean, i'm in a movie scene
Ears turn, and needles lean
To cut scratches, in a part that matches
I'm leavin eyes, and brains with patches
Stuck, so push my luck
For any roach, or mc duck
Just watch me
"watch me now"
[ced gee] word up, watch me now, suckers!
"watch me now"
[tr love] yo ced gee, why everybody gotta watch you?
[ced gee]
Because..
I'm livin large, my record's on the radio
Everyday, you hear me, your stereo
Rappin hard, with lots of volume
You hear static, well use your fine tune
Knob, to tune me in better
Cause i'm ced gee, and i would never let a
Wack mc g off with style
Touch my mic, rip and smile
Like a duck, you know you are a soft punk
Livin pink, your material sucks
Liver and worse than you can imagine

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They Might Be Giants

Hang on
Hang on tight
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be rain
They might be heat
They might be frying up a stalk of wheat
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be brain
They might be washed
They might be dr. spocks back-up band
To make the merry-go-round go faster
So that everyone needs to hang on tighter
Just to keep from being thrown to the wolves
Tabloid footprints in your hair
Tabloid footprints everywhere
We cant be silent
cause they might be giants
And what are we going to do unless they are
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be bald
They might be snow
They might be something else in the snow
Hang on tight
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants
They might be fake
They might be lies
They might be big, big, fake, fake lies
Tabloid footprints in your hair
Tabloid footprints everywhere
We cant be silent
cause they might be giants
And what are we going to do unless they are
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)
They might be giants (boy)

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Ego Trippin' 2000

[c.gee] spaceman on the bass..
Classic..
Party peoples, in the place to be
Just for you, it's the ultra-magnetic, mc's!
[c.gee] yeah...
[keith] say what, peter piper?
[c.gee] to hell with childish rhymes!
[keith] cause this jam is just movin
[c.gee] the crowd is steady groovin
[keith] to a supersonic pace
[c.gee] with highs and stupid bass
[keith] with some pep
[c.gee] and the step
[ultra] cause the beat is so funky the pace is well kept
Cause we're..
"ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo
"mc's ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo
"mc's ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo "mc's"
[c.gee] so what's his name? uhh
[keith] i'm kool keith
[kool keith]
They use the simple back and forth, the same, old rhythm
That a baby can pick up, and join, right with them
But their rhymes are pathetic, they think they copacetic
Youse a nerds that returns, at least, not poetic
On a educated base, intelligent wise
As the record just turn, you learn, plus burn
By the flame of the lyrics which cooks the human brain
Providing overheating knowledge, by means causing pain
Make a migraine, hated yourself, start to melt
While the technics spin, the wax is on the belt
Motivating clockwise the more you realize
Moe love's moving steady, by most, with everready
Like a battery, charged, i'm worth the alkaline
Yes the mystery to solve, so seek and define
These words i've given, extremely now driven
With a datsun, a maxima to glide
Yes the wizard kool keith and i'm sportin my ride
Cause we're
"ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo
"mc's ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo
"mc's ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo "mc's"
[c.gee] yeah, what's my name?
Uhh, ced gee
[ced gee]
Usin frequencies and data, i am approximate
Leaving revolutions turning, emerging chemistry
With the precise implications, acheived, ??
Explorating demonstrating, ruling, dominating
Igniting causing friction with nu-clear alarms

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Goliath Of Gath

SAMUEL, Chap. xvii.

YE martial pow'rs, and all ye tuneful nine,
Inspire my song, and aid my high design.
The dreadful scenes and toils of war I write,
The ardent warriors, and the fields of fight:
You best remember, and you best can sing
The acts of heroes to the vocal string:
Resume the lays with which your sacred lyre,
Did then the poet and the sage inspire.
Now front to front the armies were display'd,
Here Israel rang'd, and there the foes array'd;
The hosts on two opposing mountains stood,
Thick as the foliage of the waving wood;
Between them an extensive valley lay,
O'er which the gleaming armour pour'd the day,
When from the camp of the Philistine foes,
Dreadful to view, a mighty warrior rose;
In the dire deeds of bleeding battle skill'd,
The monster stalks the terror of the field.
From Gath he sprung, Goliath was his name,
Of fierce deportment, and gigantic frame:
A brazen helmet on his head was plac'd,
A coat of mail his form terrific grac'd,
The greaves his legs, the targe his shoulders prest:
Dreadful in arms high-tow'ring o'er the rest
A spear he proudly wav'd, whose iron head,
Strange to relate, six hundred shekels weigh'd;
He strode along, and shook the ample field,
While Phoebus blaz'd refulgent on his shield:
Through Jacob's race a chilling horror ran,
When thus the huge, enormous chief began:
"Say, what the cause that in this proud array
"You set your battle in the face of day?
"One hero find in all your vaunting train,
"Then see who loses, and who wins the plain;
"For he who wins, in triumph may demand
"Perpetual service from the vanquish'd land:
"Your armies I defy, your force despise,
"By far inferior in Philistia's eyes:
"Produce a man, and let us try the fight,
"Decide the contest, and the victor's right."
Thus challeng'd he: all Israel stood amaz'd,
And ev'ry chief in consternation gaz'd;
But Jesse's son in youthful bloom appears,
And warlike courage far beyond his years:
He left the folds, he left the flow'ry meads,
And soft recesses of the sylvan shades.
Now Israel's monarch, and his troops arise,
With peals of shouts ascending to the skies;

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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

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Bait

[ced] now we're the ultramagnetic
[kool] strung out on a mission
[ced] did twenty-four tracks
[kool] our rhymes to serve as bait
[ced] on the red alert show
[kool] fresh and on the go
[ced] dominating other cats
[kool] with the brains to please
[ced] playin it
[kool] saturday's, yes and always
[ced] in control
[kool] of the beat, to make you move your feet
And give you bait
[red alert] yesssssss...
Kool keith!
[kool keith]
With a gemini fade, technic 1200's
Are combined to rotate, swiftly left to right
On the mix, red alert, controlled by gamma light
Ninety-eight point seven, kiss upon the label
Of the record that he's holding beside a wooden table
I am able to mc, by testing musically
Through a caliber of rhymes arranged and wrote by me
As an artist and composer, the style i have supposed to be
Made for soft ducks and pushed by bulldozers
Step to the side words glide, for me and then collide
Like a demolition derby, punks i will be smashin
With a sign to amuse, words will keep on crashin
Very hazardous vocab, impeachin kool keith
Givin bait!
Greg nice!
[red alert] yesssssss...
Ced gee..
[ced gee]
Now with the temperature rising, the beat, is just driving
The wizard on the mic, is fully emphasizing
Red alert, goes bezerk, make you jump and jerk
Hydroplayin relayin decayin, and it work
Every second captivating, your mind, body and soul
As the chairman of the board, hip-hop, and just totally
Set to protect, send right, or do reset
Every sucker in the way, no stoppin east and west
Best gradius remains, with more, i have a fade
That'll stay to amaze, for weeks, and many days
On the mic i'm always ready, my job, is set to stay
For the ultramagnetic, ced gee, i devestate
With moe love and kool keith, we stop, annihilate
And give you bait!
Ah greg nice!
[red alert] yesssssss...

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William Blake

Tiriel

1

And Aged Tiriel. stood before the Gates of his beautiful palace
With Myratana. once the Queen of all the western plains
But now his eyes were darkned. & his wife fading in death
They stood before their once delightful palace. & thus the Voice
Of aged Tiriel. arose. that his sons might hear in their gates
Accursed race of Tiriel. behold your father
Come forth & look on her that bore you. come you accursed sons.
In my weak arms. I here have borne your dying mother
Come forth sons of the Curse come forth. see the death of Myratana
His sons ran from their gates. & saw their aged parents stand
And thus the eldest son of Tiriel raisd his mighty voice
Old man unworthy to be calld. the father of Tiriels race
For evry one of those thy wrinkles. each of those grey hairs
Are cruel as death. & as obdurate as the devouring pit
Why should thy sons care for thy curses thou accursed man
Were we not slaves till we rebeld. Who cares for Tiriels curse
His blessing was a cruel curse. His curse may be a blessing
He ceast the aged man raisd up his right hand to the heavens
His left supported Myratana shrinking in pangs of death
The orbs of his large eyes he opend. & thus his voice went forth
Serpents not sons. wreathing around the bones of Tiriel
Ye worms of death feasting upon your aged parents flesh
Listen & hear your mothers groans. No more accursed Sons
She bears. she groans not at the birth of Heuxos or Yuva
These are the groans of death ye serpents These are the groans of death
Nourishd with milk ye serpents. nourishd with mothers tears & cares
Look at my eyes blind as the orbless scull among the stones
Look at my bald head. Hark listen ye serpents listen
What Myratana. What my wife. O Soul O Spirit O fire
What Myratana. art thou dead. Look here ye serpents look
The serpents sprung from her own bowels have draind her dry as this[.]
Curse on your ruthless heads. for I will bury her even here
So saying he began to dig a grave with his aged hands
But Heuxos calld a son of Zazel. to dig their mother a grave
Old cruelty desist & let us dig a grave for thee
Thou hast refusd our charity thou hast refusd our food
Thou hast refusd our clothes our beds our houses for thy dwelling
Chusing to wander like a Son of Zazel in the rocks
Why dost thou curse. is not the curse now come upon your head
Was it not you enslavd the sons of Zazel. & they have cursd
And now you feel it. Dig a grave & let us bury our mother
There take the body. cursed sons. & may the heavens rain wrath
As thick as northern fogs. around your gates. to choke you up
That you may lie as now your mother lies. like dogs. cast out
The stink. of your dead carcases. annoying man & beast
Till your white bones are bleachd with age for a memorial.
No your remembrance shall perish. for when your carcases
Lie stinking on the earth. the buriers shall arise from the east

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Byron

Canto the Fourth

I.

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O’er the far times when many a subject land
Looked to the wingèd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!

II.

She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.

III.

In Venice, Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone - but beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade - but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

IV.

But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city’s vanished sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away -
The keystones of the arch! though all were o’er,
For us repeopled were the solitary shore.

V.

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When I Burn

[ced gee]
Aiyyo kool keith
Man i hooked this beat up just for you in the ultra lab man
So yo i want you to dog it, man youknahmsayin?
[kool keith]
Yeahhh
[ced gee]
Aight man, so ease back, y'know kick the lyrics man
[kool keith]
Word up
[ced gee]
Go for yours, aight do it man, right now
[kool keith]
Aight..
Yo i'm on, with the freaky style
When you wait debate and rate my
Rhythm expansion, dimension lyric extension
Rise above, amazing days
Crashin your brain, changin ways, sore for days
Figurin out
Many channels, triggerin out forth
I'm sendin, brains are bendin
Like metal, crust to rust corrode
And low stacks, pick up the was while you ask
How you do it, show me through it
I never knew it, could be done, no way my son
Cause i'm the one, smackin em up, stackin em up
Boxin you ducks
Packin em up, cause i burn
[ced gee]
Aiyyo keith man, that was kinda of dope man
But you know what man?
I want you to increase your metaphor, you know uh
Make it better for, somethin like that man, aight?
[kool keith]
Yeah i know what you mean, like this right?
[ced gee]
Yeah man
[kool keith]
Aight watch..
Droppin the word to make you think
You're buggin and illin out on, vocab
Connect the ?, then switch it
Changin range easily, steadily
Slow it down, ride the beat, throw em down
And sweepin em down
Mc's, all dirt on the floor
Stand back in fact you're wack to prove to me
That you're ready to be and willin to see, rhymes flow
Match and go, deep in your brain so

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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

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The Dream

'TWAS summer eve; the changeful beams still play'd
On the fir-bark and through the beechen shade;
Still with soft crimson glow'd each floating cloud;
Still the stream glitter'd where the willow bow'd;
Still the pale moon sate silent and alone,
Nor yet the stars had rallied round her throne;
Those diamond courtiers, who, while yet the West
Wears the red shield above his dying breast,
Dare not assume the loss they all desire,
Nor pay their homage to the fainter fire,
But wait in trembling till the Sun's fair light
Fading, shall leave them free to welcome Night!

So when some Chief, whose name through realms afar
Was still the watchword of succesful war,
Met by the fatal hour which waits for all,
Is, on the field he rallied, forced to fall,
The conquerors pause to watch his parting breath,
Awed by the terrors of that mighty death;
Nor dare the meed of victory to claim,
Nor lift the standard to a meaner name,
Till every spark of soul hath ebb'd away,
And leaves what was a hero, common clay.

Oh! Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting Heaven with Earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and rumning streams
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams;
Thy hour to all is welcome! Faint and sweet
Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward feet,
Who, slow returning from his task of toil,
Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil,
And, tho' such radliance round him brightly glows,
Marks the small spark his cottage window throws.
Still as his heart forestals his weary pace,
Fondly he dreams of each familiar face,
Recalls the treasures of his narrow life,
His rosy children, and his sunburnt wife,

To whom his coming is the chief event
Of simple days in cheerful labour spent.
The rich man's chariot hath gone whirling past,
And those poor cottagers have only cast
One careless glance on all that show of pride,
Then to their tasks turn'd quietly aside;
But him they wait for, him they welcome home,
Fond sentinels look forth to see him come;
The fagot sent for when the fire grew dim,
The frugal meal prepared, are all for him;
For him the watching of that sturdy boy,

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David

My thought, on views of admiration hung,
Intently ravish'd and depriv'd of tongue,
Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,
Here mov'd with praise and mov'd with glory there;
The joys entrancing and the mute surprize
Half fix the blood, and dim the moist'ning eyes;
Pleasure and praise on one another break,
And Exclamation longs at heart to speak;
When thus my Genius, on the work design'd
Awaiting closely, guides the wand'ring mind.

If while thy thanks wou'd in thy lays be wrought,
A bright astonishment involve the thought,
If yet thy temper wou'd attempt to sing,
Another's quill shall imp thy feebler wing;
Behold the name of royal David near,
Behold his musick and his measures here,
Whose harp Devotion in a rapture strung,
And left no state of pious souls unsung.

Him to the wond'ring world but newly shewn,
Celestial poetry pronounc'd her own;
A thousand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair-blooming Innocence with tender years,
And native Sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to smile within his early song,
And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along;
Majestick Honour at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the scepter of her royal state,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great;
Undaunted Courage deck'd with manly charms,
With waving-azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Displaid the glories, and the toils of fight,
Demanded fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect these the sacred spirit came,
By mild infusion of celestial flame,
And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men aspire
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they strive to make proud Babel rise,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies.
While I the glitt'ring page resolve to view,
That will the subject of my lines renew;
The Laurel wreath, my fames imagin'd shade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help or else I sink.

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Byron

English Bards and Scotch Reviewers: A Satire

'I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew!
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers'~Shakespeare

'Such shameless bards we have; and yet 'tis true,
There are as mad, abandon'd critics too,'~Pope.


Still must I hear? -- shall hoarse Fitzgerald bawl
His creaking couplets in a tavern hall,
And I not sing, lest, haply, Scotch reviews
Should dub me scribbler, and denounce my muse?
Prepare for rhyme -- I'll publish, right or wrong:
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.

O nature's noblest gift -- my grey goose-quill!
Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will,
Torn from thy parent bird to form a pen,
That mighty instrument of little men!
The pen! foredoom'd to aid the mental throes
Of brains that labour, big with verse or prose,
Though nymphs forsake, and critics may deride,
The lover's solace, and the author's pride.
What wits, what poets dost thou daily raise!
How frequent is thy use, how small thy praise!
Condemn'd at length to be forgotten quite,
With all the pages which 'twas thine to write.
But thou, at least, mine own especial pen!
Once laid aside, but now assumed again,
Our task complete, like Hamet's shall be free;
Though spurn'd by others, yet beloved by me:
Then let us soar today, no common theme,
No eastern vision, no distemper'd dream
Inspires -- our path, though full of thorns, is plain;
Smooth be the verse, and easy be the strain.

When Vice triumphant holds her sov'reign sway,
Obey'd by all who nought beside obey;
When Folly, frequent harbinger of crime,
Bedecks her cap with bells of every clime;
When knaves and fools combined o'er all prevail,
And weigh their justice in a golden scale;
E'en then the boldest start from public sneers,
Afraid of shame, unknown to other fears,
More darkly sin, by satire kept in awe,
And shrink from ridicule, though not from law.

Such is the force of wit! but not belong
To me the arrows of satiric song;
The royal vices of our age demand
A keener weapon, and a mightier hand.

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Mc Champion

And now..
You're mc champions, ultra-magnetic
"i am sealing off the dimensional window
Closing the hole in the fabric of the cosmos like a scar"
[ced gee]
Ahh yeah
One two, one two
This is agent ble-ced gee
Ultramagnetic's in full effect
We in here droppin freestyle rhymes like mc champions
So keith, take it away
[kool keith]
Power compactor, brain distractor
Droppin a bomb, right in your anal connector
Sector, vector, the lyric inspector
X-ray vision, powerful spector
Lexor, mechtor, egor
Ah yes yes y'all, and you don't stop
The rhythm i drop to hit the top to make your swing go pop
As i flow, pick up the micro'
Poem get hypo, tension as original
Lyrical miracle, back to attack one
Black one, white one, green one or blue one
Colorful sweet rhymes, i'm back to do one
Or two of you, three of you, or four of you
Five or six or seven, eleven of you
Wack mc's get back in the last line
And wait on the mic, you think i'm ready to pass mine
Up in the brougham, with clever ability
I know when to sting a brain, just like i'm a killer bee
Hittin em hard with the rhyme as the flame throw
Hardcore, softcore, and even the rainbow
Polka-dot mc's, african, indians
Spanish-american, mixed with panamanian
Arabian nubian, speak in siberian
Japanese chinese, and regular mc's
Preachers, teachers, and negative creatures
I roll and kick a rhyme, you grab your mic back
Sidewind and rattle like a snake i strike back
I chew your brain and, the monkey behind you
Your company management, the dummy who signed you
To pick up the slack but the hype ain't sellin many
Records and tapes cause your rap ain't tellin any
Metaphor phrases, things that amazes
Me the next man, no biter or innovator
With lyrical instinct, you look like a duplicator
Bitin my style, nibblin on the big jock
With rhymes so tight, they keep your brain in the headlock
Count the one two three four five
I'm like like pushwagons, tag-teamin your dome

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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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Byron

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto IV.

I.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles
O'er the far times, when many a subject land
Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, thron'd on her hundred isles!

II.
She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Pour'd in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she rob'd, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deem'd their dignity increas'd.

III.
In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone -- but Beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade -- but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

IV.
But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city's vanish'd sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away --
The keystones of the arch! though all were o'er,
For us repeopl'd were the solitary shore.

V.
The beings of the mind are not of clay;
Essentially immortal, they create
And multiply in us a brighter ray
And more belov'd existence: that which Fate
Prohibits to dull life, in this our state

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Charles Lamb

David

It is not always to the strong
Victorious battle shall belong.
This found Goliath huge and tall:
Mightiest giant of them all,
Who in the proud Philistian host
Defiëd Israel with boast.


With loud voice Goliath said:
'Hear, armed Israel, gatherëd,
And in array against us set:
Ye shall alone by me be met.
For am not I a Philistine?
What strength may be compared to mine?


'Choose ye a man of greatest might:
And if he conquer me in fight,
Then we will all servants be,
King of Israel, unto thee.
But if I prove the victor, then
Shall Saul and all his armëd men
Bend low beneath Philistian yoke.'
Day by day these words he spoke,
Singly traversing the ground.
But not an Israelite was found
To combat man to man with him,
Who such prodigious force of limb
Displayed. Like to a weaver's beam
The ponderous spear he held did seem.
In height six cubits he did pass,
And he was armed all o'er in brass.


Him we will leave awhile, and speak
Of one, the soft down on whose cheek
Of tender youth the tokens bare.
Ruddy he was and very fair.
David, the son of Jesse he,
Small sized, yet beautiful to see.
Three brothers had he in the band
Of warriors under Saul's command;
Himself at home did private keep
In Bethlem's plains his father's sheep.


Jesse said to this his son:
'David, to thy brothers run,
Where in the camp they now abide,
And learn what of them may betide.

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