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Blood is thicker than water, but politics are thicker than blood.

Frank Herbert in Dune
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cool, Cool Water

Coolin so coolin coolin me
Coolin so coolin coolin me
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
(water coolin me)
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
(water coolin me)
Have some cool clear water
Have some cool clear water
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
Have some water
Coolin so coolin coolin me
Coolin so coolin coolin me
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
(water coolin me)
Have some cool clear water
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
Have some cool clear water
Have some cool clear water
(drink a little drip drip drip drip drink a little)
Have some water
Water water water water water water
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Now now-now-now-now
Ah ah ah ah
Wa ah ah wa ah oo oo oo oo ah ah
Coolin so cool coolin me
Coolin so cool coolin me
(drip drip drip drip drink a little drip drip drip drip)
Coolin so cool coolin me
(drip drip drip drip drink a little drip drip drip drip)
Coolin so cool coolin me
(drip drip drip drip drink a little drip drip drip drip)
Coolin so cool coolin me
(drip drip drip drip drink a little drip drip drip drip)
When the heats got you down
Heres what you oughta
Get yourself in that cool cool water
(coolin so cool coolin me)
Cool cool water
Get yourself in that cool cool water

[...] Read more

song performed by Beach Boys
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Water

The foreman over there hates the gang,
The foreman over there hates the gang,
The poor people on the farms get it so rough,
The poor people on the farms get it so rough,
Truck drivers drive like the devil,
Truck drivers drive like the devil,
The policemen theyre acting so tough.
The policemen theyre acting so tough.
They need water,
They need water,
Good water,
Good water,
They need water,
They need water,
And Im sure there isnt one of us here
And Im sure there isnt one of us here
Whod say no to somebodys daughter.
Whod say no to somebodys daughter.
No, no, no, no, no.
No, no, no, no, no.
The foreman over there hates the gang,
The foreman over there hates the gang,
The poor people on the farms get it so rough,
The poor people on the farms get it so rough,
Truck drivers drive like the devil,
Truck drivers drive like the devil,
The policemen theyre acting so tough.
The policemen theyre acting so tough.
They need water,
They need water,
Good water,
Good water,
They need water,
They need water,
And maybe somebodys daughter.
And maybe somebodys daughter.
Indian lake is burning,
Indian lake is burning,
The new york skyline is hazy,
The new york skyline is hazy,
The river thames is turning dry,
The river thames is turning dry,
The whole world is blazing.
The whole world is blazing.
We need water,
We need water,
Wow yeah good water,
Wow yeah good water,
Ooh we need water,
Ooh we need water,

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Thicker Than Blood

More info about this song in the song database
She was born in kansas city, raised in arkansas
Fell in love with an ex-marine
She already had three babies; he had one of his own
They came together for another and me
Our family never shared the same last name
But our family was a family, the same
(and they say) blood is thicker than water
Oh, but love is thicker than blood
Wreck out on the highway, rain falling down
Lord, he must have fell asleep at the wheel
Theres a number of people just standing around
Lord, I cant condemn the fear that they feel
For that river of red could be the death of me
God, give me strength and keep reminding me
That blood is thicker than water
Oh, but love is thicker than blood
Bridge:
And if blood is thicker than water
Then what are we fighting for
Were all sons and daughters
Of something that means so much more
I see it on my tv but I cant understand
Lord, its one big contradiction to me
How in gods name we love thy neighbor with fists
In our hands
And kill each other when we just dont agree
Why cant we see the walls we cant see through
And see what gods been telling me and you
(and that is) blood is thicker than water
Oh, but love, love is thicker than blood

song performed by Garth Brooks
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I Go Swimming

Ooh, I go swimming, swimming in the water
Swimming in the river, swimming in the sea
I go swimming
I go swimming, swimming in the water
Swimming in the pool, swimming is cool
I go swimming
The sun is burning, I am yearning
For the waterflow (waterflow)
Next to my skin i, like to begin a
Waterflow (waterflow)
Letting off steam I float in a dream,
I cant let go (cant let go)
Follow my wishes, follow the fishes
Down below (down below)
I go swimming
I need water, water to drink
Water on my brain, water sustain,
Water over me
I want water, water I need
Water to think, water to drink
Water over me
The sun is burning, I am yearning
For the waterflow (waterflow)
Next to my skin i, like to begin a
Waterflow (waterflow)
Letting off steam I float in a dream,
I cant let go (cant let go)
Follow my wishes, follow the fishes
Down below (down below)
I go swimming
I go swimming, I go swimming
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
I go swimming, I go swimming
I go swimming, I go swimming
Swimming, I go swimming
Oh I go swimming, I go swimming
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me
Swimming in water, swimming in water, swimming in water
Water all over me

song performed by Peter Gabriel
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tamar

I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.

The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Wade In The Water

(first release, live version minneapolis, december 22, 1961traditional, arranged by bob dylan)
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Well, who are these children all dressed in red?
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Must-a-be the children that moses lead
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Well out of the mountain come fire an smoke
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Jehovah nobody be he couldve spoke
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Well, Im walkin down the highway an the waters gettin low
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Walkin down the highway, nowhere to go
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
But its wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Roan Stallion

The dog barked; then the woman stood in the doorway, and hearing
iron strike stone down the steep road
Covered her head with a black shawl and entered the light rain;
she stood at the turn of the road.
A nobly formed woman; erect and strong as a new tower; the
features stolid and dark
But sculptured into a strong grace; straight nose with a high bridge,
firm and wide eyes, full chin,
Red lips; she was only a fourth part Indian; a Scottish sailor had
planted her in young native earth,
Spanish and Indian, twenty-one years before. He had named her
California when she was born;
That was her name; and had gone north.
She heard the hooves and
wheels come nearer, up the steep road.
The buckskin mare, leaning against the breastpiece, plodded into
sight round the wet bank.
The pale face of the driver followed; the burnt-out eyes; they had
fortune in them. He sat twisted
On the seat of the old buggy, leading a second horse by a long
halter, a roan, a big one,
That stepped daintily; by the swell of the neck, a stallion. 'What
have you got, Johnny?' 'Maskerel's stallion.
Mine now. I won him last night, I had very good luck.' He was
quite drunk, 'They bring their mares up here now.
I keep this fellow. I got money besides, but I'll not show you.'
'Did you buy something, Johnny,
For our Christine? Christmas comes in two days, Johnny.' 'By
God, forgot,' he answered laughing.
'Don't tell Christine it's Christmas; after while I get her something,
maybe.' But California:
'I shared your luck when you lost: you lost me once, Johnny, remember?
Tom Dell had me two nights
Here in the house: other times we've gone hungry: now that
you've won, Christine will have her Christmas.
We share your luck, Johnny. You give me money, I go down to
Monterey to-morrow,
Buy presents for Christine, come back in the evening. Next day
Christmas.' 'You have wet ride,' he answered
Giggling. 'Here money. Five dollar; ten; twelve dollar. You
buy two bottles of rye whiskey for Johnny.'
A11 right. I go to-morrow.'
He was an outcast Hollander; not
old, but shriveled with bad living.
The child Christine inherited from his race blue eyes, from his
life a wizened forehead; she watched
From the house-door her father lurch out of the buggy and lead
with due respect the stallion
To the new corral, the strong one; leaving the wearily breathing
buckskin mare to his wife to unharness.

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Once In A Lifetime

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful
Wife
And you may ask yourself-well...how did I get here?
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the moneys gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.
And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the moneys gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.
Same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...same as it ever was...same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...same as it ever was...
Water dissolving...and water removing
There is water at the bottom of the ocean
Carry the water at the bottom of the ocean
Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean!
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/in the silent water
Under the rocks and stones/there is water underground.
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the moneys gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.
And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right? ...am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
My god!...what have I done?
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/in the silent water
Under the rocks and stones/there is water underground.
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down

[...] Read more

song performed by Talking Heads
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Once In A Lifetime (Same As It Ever Was) (Liquid People Mix)

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful
wife
And you may ask yourself-Well...How did I get here?
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.
And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Water dissolving...and water removing
There is water at the bottom of the ocean
Remove the water carry the water
Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean!
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a life time water flowing underground.
Into the blue again/into the silent water.
under the rocks and stones/there is water underground
Letting the days go by/into the silent water
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground
And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right?...Am I wrong?
And you may say to yourself
MY GOD!...WHAT HAVE I DONE?
Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
once in a lifetime/water flowing undeground
into the blue again/into the silent water

[...] Read more

song performed by Talking Heads
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Streams Of Living Water Will Flow

water of life
water of love
life bubble
life on grass blade

what is death by thirst Lord?

if anyone thirsts
let him come
to me and drink John 7: 37.

without water
there would be
no life possible...

out of his inmost
part streams of living
water will flow John 7: 38.

water is liquid life
water is a large
percentage of cells

cells comprise life
cells make up
all living organisms

man cannot live by bread alone?

“It is written,
“Man must not live,
not on bread alone,

but on every utterance
coming forth through
Jehovah’s mouth.” ” Matthew 4.4.

Fact! Many
have heard that humans
can live longer

without food
than they can live
without water.

It's true!

without
water all life
would die

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Looking for Water

Still the leaves are spinning 'round
Take my hand as we go down, and down, and down
Looking for water
Well, our light's gone in a New York minute
Don't know about you, but my heart's not in it
(Looking, looking, looking)
I'm looking for water
I'm looking for water
(Looking, looking, looking)
I can't breathe the air, can't raise a fact
'Cause all we've got left is a beat in the night, and I'm
(Looking for water)
Looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
Take my hand as we go down, and down
Leave it all behind, nothing could be found
(I'm, looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
(I, looking for water)
Looking everywhere
(Looking for water)
Looking here and there
(I'm looking for water)
I'm looking for water
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I can't live in this cage, I can't eat this candy
The edge of the earth to the spin in my head
The look in your eyes and never means never
The dawn's early light, baby, dark is forever
(Looking, looking)
(Looking, looking)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for water)
(Looking, looking)
I
(Looking for water)
(Looking for watter)
Looking, looking)
I

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie, music by David Bowie, lyrics by David Bowie from Reality
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 7

AND thou, O matron of immortal fame,
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name;
Cajeta still the place is call’d from thee,
The nurse of great Æneas’ infancy.
Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia’s plains; 5
Thy name (’t is all a ghost can have) remains.
Now, when the prince her fun’ral rites had paid,
He plow’d the Tyrrhene seas with sails display’d.
From land a gentle breeze arose by night,
Serenely shone the stars, the moon was bright, 10
And the sea trembled with her silver light.
Now near the shelves of Circe’s shores they run,
(Circe the rich, the daughter of the Sun,)
A dang’rous coast: the goddess wastes her days
In joyous songs; the rocks resound her lays: 15
In spinning, or the loom, she spends the night,
And cedar brands supply her father’s light.
From hence were heard, rebellowing to the main,
The roars of lions that refuse the chain,
The grunts of bristled boars, and groans of bears, 20
And herds of howling wolves that stun the sailors’ ears.
These from their caverns, at the close of night,
Fill the sad isle with horror and affright.
Darkling they mourn their fate, whom Circe’s pow’r,
(That watch’d the moon and planetary hour,) 25
With words and wicked herbs from humankind
Had alter’d, and in brutal shapes confin’d.
Which monsters lest the Trojans’ pious host
Should bear, or touch upon th’ inchanted coast,
Propitious Neptune steer’d their course by night 30
With rising gales that sped their happy flight.
Supplied with these, they skim the sounding shore,
And hear the swelling surges vainly roar.
Now, when the rosy morn began to rise,
And wav’d her saffron streamer thro’ the skies; 35
When Thetis blush’d in purple not her own,
And from her face the breathing winds were blown,
A sudden silence sate upon the sea,
And sweeping oars, with struggling, urge their way.
The Trojan, from the main, beheld a wood, 40
Which thick with shades and a brown horror stood:
Betwixt the trees the Tiber took his course,
With whirlpools dimpled; and with downward force,
That drove the sand along, he took his way,
And roll’d his yellow billows to the sea. 45
About him, and above, and round the wood,
The birds that haunt the borders of his flood,
That bath’d within, or basked upon his side,
To tuneful songs their narrow throats applied.
The captain gives command; the joyful train 50

[...] Read more

poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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Bread & Blood

(graham russell)
Im not afraid of losing you or saying good-bye
If someone needs you more than me, I will understand why
Id never stand between someone whos holding your heart
But I cant let a superstition tear us apart
Who has the right to speak fire from above
If heaven is away from you, that is the place I will give up
For falling in love cant be taking these lips from the cup
Dont fill her mind with bread and blood
Dont confuse strength with pride and mud
I have a faith in love thats thicker than all bread and blood
Im not afraid to face the truth of what I believe
If love was never meant to choose, it could never succeed
And we may always stand alone in everyones sight
And be the judge unto ourselves between wrong and right
Who puts a price on eternitys sin
Who throws the first stone shall search for perfection again
For you are the reason that pleasure was taken from the pain
Dont fill her mind with bread and blood
Dont confuse strength with pride and mud
I have a faith in love thats thicker than all bread and blood
I wont see you cry, should it make you cry
Dont fill her mind with bread and blood
Dont confuse strength with pride and mud
I have a faith in love thats thicker than all bread and blood
Dont fill her mind with bread and blood
Dont confuse strength with pride and mud
I have a faith in love thats thicker than all bread and blood

song performed by Air Supply
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hiawatha And The Pearl-Feather

On the shores of Gitche Gumee,
Of the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood Nokomis, the old woman,
Pointing with her finger westward,
O'er the water pointing westward,
To the purple clouds of sunset.
Fiercely the red sun descending
Burned his way along the heavens,
Set the sky on fire behind him,
As war-parties, when retreating,
Burn the prairies on their war-trail;
And the moon, the Night-sun, eastward,
Suddenly starting from his ambush,
Followed fast those bloody footprints,
Followed in that fiery war-trail,
With its glare upon his features.
And Nokomis, the old woman,
Pointing with her finger westward,
Spake these words to Hiawatha:
"Yonder dwells the great Pearl-Feather,
Megissogwon, the Magician,
Manito of Wealth and Wampum,
Guarded by his fiery serpents,
Guarded by the black pitch-water.
You can see his fiery serpents,
The Kenabeek, the great serpents,
Coiling, playing in the water;
You can see the black pitch-water
Stretching far away beyond them,
To the purple clouds of sunset!
"He it was who slew my father,
By his wicked wiles and cunning,
When he from the moon descended,
When he came on earth to seek me.
He, the mightiest of Magicians,
Sends the fever from the marshes,
Sends the pestilential vapors,
Sends the poisonous exhalations,
Sends the white fog from the fen-lands,
Sends disease and death among us!
"Take your bow, O Hiawatha,
Take your arrows, jasper-headed,
Take your war-club, Puggawaugun,
And your mittens, Minjekahwun,
And your birch-canoe for sailing,
And the oil of Mishe-Nahma,
So to smear its sides, that swiftly
You may pass the black pitch-water;
Slay this merciless magician,
Save the people from the fever

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Song Of Hiawatha IX: Hiawatha And The Pearl-Feather

On the shores of Gitche Gumee,
Of the shining Big-Sea-Water,
Stood Nokomis, the old woman,
Pointing with her finger westward,
O'er the water pointing westward,
To the purple clouds of sunset.
Fiercely the red sun descending
Burned his way along the heavens,
Set the sky on fire behind him,
As war-parties, when retreating,
Burn the prairies on their war-trail;
And the moon, the Night-sun, eastward,
Suddenly starting from his ambush,
Followed fast those bloody footprints,
Followed in that fiery war-trail,
With its glare upon his features.
And Nokomis, the old woman,
Pointing with her finger westward,
Spake these words to Hiawatha:
'Yonder dwells the great Pearl-Feather,
Megissogwon, the Magician,
Manito of Wealth and Wampum,
Guarded by his fiery serpents,
Guarded by the black pitch-water.
You can see his fiery serpents,
The Kenabeek, the great serpents,
Coiling, playing in the water;
You can see the black pitch-water
Stretching far away beyond them,
To the purple clouds of sunset!
'He it was who slew my father,
By his wicked wiles and cunning,
When he from the moon descended,
When he came on earth to seek me.
He, the mightiest of Magicians,
Sends the fever from the marshes,
Sends the pestilential vapors,
Sends the poisonous exhalations,
Sends the white fog from the fen-lands,
Sends disease and death among us!
'Take your bow, O Hiawatha,
Take your arrows, jasper-headed,
Take your war-club, Puggawaugun,
And your mittens, Minjekahwun,
And your birch-canoe for sailing,
And the oil of Mishe-Nahma,
So to smear its sides, that swiftly
You may pass the black pitch-water;
Slay this merciless magician,
Save the people from the fever

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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Water is precious

If there was water on the surface of dry leaves; they would look
superbly
mesmerizing; glistening profoundly under the sun,
If there was water on mud coated wall; there would be a ravishing
scent that
permeated the adulterated air,
If there was water on vegetables lying sprawled in a forlorn heap; they
would
bounce back to boisterous life; retrieving the plethora of minerals
they had
lost in the blistering heat,
If there was water on fossils languidly scattered in obsolete
territories of
the dormant volcano; they would perspicuously depict the mysteries of
the
past; besides shimmering magnificently under the moon,
If there was water on wild buds of jungle mushroom; the unruly shoots
would
sparkle tenaciously; drawing millions of mouths towards them to satiate
their
famished taste buds,
If there was water on a battalion of acrimonious thorns; their tips
would get
dramatically softened; making them flounder in their conquest of
mercilessly
puncturing soft skin,
If there was water on scalp hair; their bedraggled texture would
miraculously
transform into immaculately polished,
If there was water on the obdurate foam of bed; there would be an
unprecedented cool that besieging the ambience; and I would find it
astoundingly easy to fall into a invincible siesta,
If there was water on pairs of chapped lips; they would look
irrefutably
voluptuous and longing to be kissed,
If there was water on the scorched soil of arid desert; the surrounding
wildlife would get substantial reprieve from sweltering storms of heat,
If there was water on rampant flames of fire ominously rising up by the
zipping second; the occupants inside would be saved from the tyranny of
being
burnt alive,
If there was water on the elevation of dusty window panes; they would
suddenly
glitter in animation; explicitly exposing the panoramic view outside,
If there was water on the river bed; scores of children would gleefully
toss
in it; splashing it frivolously on passing pedestrians,
If there was water on clusters of scarlet rose; they would diffuse a
blissful
fragrance penetrating the claustrophobic environment with a

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poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Canto the Eighth

I
Oh blood and thunder! and oh blood and wounds!
These are but vulgar oaths, as you may deem,
Too gentle reader! and most shocking sounds:
And so they are; yet thus is Glory's dream
Unriddled, and as my true Muse expounds
At present such things, since they are her theme,
So be they her inspirers! Call them Mars,
Bellona, what you will -- they mean but wars.

II
All was prepared -- the fire, the sword, the men
To wield them in their terrible array.
The army, like a lion from his den,
March'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay, --
A human Hydra, issuing from its fen
To breathe destruction on its winding way,
Whose heads were heroes, which cut off in vain
Immediately in others grew again.

III
History can only take things in the gross;
But could we know them in detail, perchance
In balancing the profit and the loss,
War's merit it by no means might enhance,
To waste so much gold for a little dross,
As hath been done, mere conquest to advance.
The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.

IV
And why? -- because it brings self-approbation;
Whereas the other, after all its glare,
Shouts, bridges, arches, pensions from a nation,
Which (it may be) has not much left to spare,
A higher title, or a loftier station,
Though they may make Corruption gape or stare,
Yet, in the end, except in Freedom's battles,
Are nothing but a child of Murder's rattles.

V
And such they are -- and such they will be found:
Not so Leonidas and Washington,
Whose every battle-field is holy ground,
Which breathes of nations saved, not worlds undone.
How sweetly on the ear such echoes sound!
While the mere victor's may appal or stun
The servile and the vain, such names will be
A watchword till the future shall be free.

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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Christmas-Eve

I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.

II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,

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poem by Robert Browning
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The Tower Beyond Tragedy

I
You'd never have thought the Queen was Helen's sister- Troy's
burning-flower from Sparta, the beautiful sea-flower
Cut in clear stone, crowned with the fragrant golden mane, she
the ageless, the uncontaminable-
This Clytemnestra was her sister, low-statured, fierce-lipped, not
dark nor blonde, greenish-gray-eyed,
Sinewed with strength, you saw, under the purple folds of the
queen-cloak, but craftier than queenly,
Standing between the gilded wooden porch-pillars, great steps of
stone above the steep street,
Awaiting the King.
Most of his men were quartered on the town;
he, clanking bronze, with fifty
And certain captives, came to the stair. The Queen's men were
a hundred in the street and a hundred
Lining the ramp, eighty on the great flags of the porch; she
raising her white arms the spear-butts
Thundered on the stone, and the shields clashed; eight shining
clarions
Let fly from the wide window over the entrance the wildbirds of
their metal throats, air-cleaving
Over the King come home. He raised his thick burnt-colored
beard and smiled; then Clytemnestra,
Gathering the robe, setting the golden-sandaled feet carefully,
stone by stone, descended
One half the stair. But one of the captives marred the comeliness
of that embrace with a cry
Gull-shrill, blade-sharp, cutting between the purple cloak and
the bronze plates, then Clytemnestra:
Who was it? The King answered: A piece of our goods out of
the snatch of Asia, a daughter of the king,
So treat her kindly and she may come into her wits again. Eh,
you keep state here my queen.
You've not been the poorer for me.- In heart, in the widowed
chamber, dear, she pale replied, though the slaves
Toiled, the spearmen were faithful. What's her name, the slavegirl's?
AGAMEMNON Come up the stair. They tell me my kinsman's
Lodged himself on you.
CLYTEMNESTRA Your cousin Aegisthus? He was out of refuge,
flits between here and Tiryns.
Dear: the girl's name?
AGAMEMNON Cassandra. We've a hundred or so other
captives; besides two hundred
Rotted in the hulls, they tell odd stories about you and your
guest: eh? no matter: the ships
Ooze pitch and the August road smokes dirt, I smell like an
old shepherd's goatskin, you'll have bath-water?
CLYTEMNESTRA
They're making it hot. Come, my lord. My hands will pour it.

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poem by Robinson Jeffers
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