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Because when you feel that you have arrived, you are dead.

classic quote by Yul Brynner
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Feel So Good

(willie broonzy)
All right, its your turn to give something back so lets hear a couple of chords. now where are ya ? come on!
I got a letter, it come to me by mail
My babys a-comin home, I hope that she wont fail
Because I feel so good, I feel so good
You know I feel so good, feel like ballin the jack
I drove into town to that old station, just to meet her old train
My baby said shes a-comin home I hope that she wont fail
Because I feel so good, I feel so good
You know I feel so good, feel like ballin the jack
Feel so good, I hope I always will
Feel just like I just got out of jail
Wherever Im ...
Because I feel so good, I feel so good.
You know I feel so good, feel like ballin the jack
All right, I can see you. lets have you. are you with me up there?
Are you with me? are you with me?
Feel so good, feel so good.
Oh I feel so good, ah yeah
I want you to uh, shout as loud as you can. cause were going to try and record this so youll know ...
I feel so good,
Feel so good
Feel so good
Feel so good
So nice, so nice
So nice, so nice
So nice, so nice
Hmm-mmm-mmm-mmm
Hmm-mmm-mmm-mmm
Hmm-mmm-mmm-mmm
Wo-wo-wo-wo
Wo-wo-wo-wo
Wo-wo-wo-wo
Woh I feel so good, oh yeah
Lets hear you.
Feel, feel, feel, feel, feel so good
Feel, feel, feel, feel, feel so good
Feel, feel, feel, feel, feel so good
Feel, feel, feel, feel so good
Feel, feel, feel, feel, feel so good
Feel, feel, feel, feel, feel so good
You know I feel so good
Feel like ballin the jack, hoo
You know I feel so good
Feel like ballin the jack
You know I feel so good
Ooh-hoo
Thanks for waking up for us ...

song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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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.

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
Added by Poetry Lover
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Shout & Shimmy

Do you feel alright? well do you feel alright children? do you feel alright?
Do you feel alright? well do you feel alright children? do you feel alright?
You know you make me want to shout shimmy, oh yeah you gonna shout shimmy,
You know you make me want to shout shimmy, oh yeah you gonna shout shimmy,
Oh yeah you gonna shout shimmy, oh yeah you gonna shout shimmy,
Oh yeah you gonna shout shimmy, oh yeah you gonna shout shimmy,
Oh yeah you know I walk up to the front, I try to do the flop,
Oh yeah you know I walk up to the front, I try to do the flop,
I walk up to the back, and I move on side to side,
I walk up to the back, and I move on side to side,
Then I stop, oh yeah and then I drop,
Then I stop, oh yeah and then I drop,
Oh yeah and then I drop, oh yeah and then I do a little thing ? ? ? ? ? ,
Oh yeah and then I drop, oh yeah and then I do a little thing ? ? ? ? ? ,
Do you feel alright? do you feel so good? do you feel so good?
Do you feel alright? do you feel so good? do you feel so good?
Do you feel alright? do you feel alright? tell me now, tell me now,
Do you feel alright? do you feel alright? tell me now, tell me now,
Do you feel alright? do you feel alright? everybody do you feel so good?
Do you feel alright? do you feel alright? everybody do you feel so good?
You know I feel alright, you know you make me want to shout shimmy,
You know I feel alright, you know you make me want to shout shimmy,
Oh yeah you gonna shout shimmy, oh yeah you gonna shout shimmy,
Oh yeah you gonna shout shimmy, oh yeah you gonna shout shimmy,
Oh yeah you gonna shout a little bit soft, shout a little bit quieter,
Oh yeah you gonna shout a little bit soft, shout a little bit quieter,
Shout a little bit soft, come on soft, shout a little bit soft,
Shout a little bit soft, come on soft, shout a little bit soft,
A little bit soft, cool down, cool down, come on, cool it down,
A little bit soft, cool down, cool down, come on, cool it down,
I feel so good, I feel alright, drum on, drum on, drum on drummer,
I feel so good, I feel alright, drum on, drum on, drum on drummer,
Everybody everybody everybody clap your hands, come on clap your hands,
Everybody everybody everybody clap your hands, come on clap your hands,
Clap your hands, a little bit harder, a little bit louder,
Clap your hands, a little bit harder, a little bit louder,
A little bit harder, a little bit louder, a little bit louder,
A little bit harder, a little bit louder, a little bit louder,
Come on and shout, everybody, come on and shout, come on and shout baby,
Come on and shout, everybody, come on and shout, come on and shout baby,
Come on and shout baby, do you feel alright? do I feel so good?
Come on and shout baby, do you feel alright? do I feel so good?
Do you feel alright? do I feel so good? call a doctor, call a doctor,
Do you feel alright? do I feel so good? call a doctor, call a doctor,
Do you feel alright? do you feel alright? do you feel alright?
Do you feel alright? do you feel alright? do you feel alright?
Do you feel alright? do you feel alright?
Do you feel alright? do you feel alright?
You know I feel so good Im gonna shout and shimmy all night,
You know I feel so good Im gonna shout and shimmy all night,

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dead End Street

Theres a crack up in the ceiling,
And the kitchen sink is leaking.
Out of work and got no money,
A sunday joint of bread and honey.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No money coming in,
The rent collectors knocking, trying to get in.
We are strictly second class,
We dont understand,
(dead end!)
Why we should be on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are living on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
On a cold and frosty morning,
Wipe my eyes and stop me yawning.
And my feet are nearly frozen,
Boil the tea and put some toast on.
What are we living for?
Two-roomed apartment on the second floor.
No chance to emigrate,
Im deep in debt and now its much too late.
We both want to work so hard,
We cant get the chance,
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
(dead end!)
People live on dead end street.
(dead end!)
People are dying on dead end street.
(dead end!)
Gonna die on dead end street.
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Head to my feet (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Dead end street (yeah)
Hows it feel? (yeah)

[...] Read more

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
Added by Poetry Lover
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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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Feel U Up

{b-side of partyman}
Ive been diggin u 4 such a long time
U dont even know that Im alive
Something bout the way u walk just really blows my mind
Sorry but Im sick of all this jive
Ok?
Let me touch your body baby
Let me feel u up
Come on baby, come on
Let me feel u up
Let me touch your body baby
Let me feel u up
Come on baby, come on
Let me feel u up
Something bout your body baby really get me hot
Im sweating girl and its all because of u
I dont want your credit cards or anything u got
Feel u up is all I wanna do
What do u say?
Let me touch your body baby
Let me feel u up
Come on baby, come on
Let me feel u up
Let me touch your body baby
Let me feel u up
Come on baby, come on
Let me feel u up
I aint looking 4 a 1 night stand
I only wanna feel u up
I dont really wanna be your man
I only wanna feel u up
Physical attraction babe
Its what its all about
Hot and cold reaction
Feel u up
Turn u out
Come on baby, come on
Let me feel u up
Come on baby, come on
Let me feel u up
Whats the verdict? I dont like suspense
How can u resist my burning touch?
Something bout the way u walk just really blows my mind
I never wanted anything so much
Ok?
Let me touch your body baby
Let me feel u up
Come on baby, come on
Let me feel u up
Let me touch your body baby

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dead Guy Stickers

In the USA,
They want to put dead guy pictures on cigarette packs.
With that brilliant logic in mind, I say put dead guy stickers on:
car windshields(dead guys in wrecks)
pistol and rifle handles (dead guys shot)
marriage licenses (dead spouses)
hamburger and hot dog wrappers (dead fat guys)
pies, cakes (more dead fat guys)
bathroom doors (thousands of dead guys in bathrooms every year)
bicycles (road kill dead guys)
fire places (burnt dead guys)
swimming pools (drown dead guys)
every electrical outlet (fried dead guys)
air plane tickets (dead passenger guys)
the beach (shark bit dead guys)
cities (shot dead guys)
air (blue dead guys)
fish (poisoned dead guys)
motorcycles (more road kill dead guys)
scarfs (strangled dead guys)
football helmets (brain dead guys)
hot tubs (more drowned dead guys)
and so on.
Just about everything can kill you, such as:
Mothers (dead baby guys plus dead fathers)
Fathers (dead baby guys plus dead mothers)
Police(multiple dead guys and chicks)
Drugs (multiple dead guys and chicks)
and so on.
Once everything has a dead guy sticker on it,
You've been warned and the world will be safer, right?
It shows we care, right?

poem by Richard Jarboe
Added by Poetry Lover
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Dead Or Alive

Well the new sheriff sent me a letter
Yes the new sheriff sent me a letter
He said, come up and see me dead or alive,
Come up and see me dead or alive.
Well its a hard road dead or alive
Its a hard road dead or alive
Well its a hard road dead or alive
Its a hard road dead or alive
Well I really dont like your hard rock hotel (yeah) sheriff
Well I really dont like your hard rock hotel, sheriff
Dead or alive, no sheriff
Dead or alive, no sheriff
Well its a hard road dead or alive
And its a hard road dead or alive
And its a hard road dead or alive
And its a hard road dead or alive
Well he even sent me my picture
(oh yeah, and hello)
He even sent me my picture
(yeah yeah)
Hey, how do I look boy (wonderful)
Dead or alive?
How do I look boy (sweet) dead or alive?
Its a hard road dead or alive
Its a hard road dead or alive
Well, its a hard road dead or alive
And its a hard road dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Turtle And Sparrow. An Elegiac Tale

Behind an unfrequented glade,
Where yew and myrtle mix their shade,
A widow Turtle pensive sat,
And wept her murder'd lover's fate.
The Sparrow chanced that way to walk,
(A bird that loves to chirp and talk)
Be sure he did the Turtle greet,
She answer'd him as she thought meet.
Sparrows and Turtles, by the bye,
Can think as well as you or I;
But how they did their thoughts express
The margin shows by T. and S.

T. My hopes are lost, my joys are fled,
Alas! I weep Columbo dead:
Come, all ye winged Lovers, come,
Drop pinks and daisies on his tomb;
Sing, Philomel, his funeral verse,
Ye pious Redbreasts deck his hearse;
Fair Swans, extend your dying throats,
Columbo's death requires your notes;
For him, my friend, for him I moan,
My dear Columbo, dead and gone.

Stretch'd on the bier Columbo lies,
Pale are his cheeks, and closed his eyes;
Those eyes, where beauty smiling lay,
Those eyes, where Love was used to play;
Ah! cruel Fate, alas how soon
That beauty and those joys are flown!

Columbo is no more: ye floods,
Bear the sad sound to distant woods;
The sound let echo's voice restore,
And say, Columbo is no more.
Ye floods, ye woods, ye echoes, moan
My dear Columbo, dead and gone.

The Dryads all forsook the wood,
And mournful Naiads round me stood,
The tripping Fawns and Fairies came,
All conscious of our mutual flame,
To sigh for him, with me to moan,
My dear Columbo, dead and gone.

Venus disdain'd not to appear,
To lend my grief a friendly ear;
But what avails her kindness now?
She ne'er shall hear my second vow:
The Loves that round their mother flow

[...] Read more

poem by Matthew Prior
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Stranger In West Lothian

As I walk alone in the Rain
Where I go, is a Lonely path
I feel alone, lost and cold
If you were me right now,
Ask yourself this...

How does it feel?
How do you feel?
Shivering alone in the rain
How does it feel?
Cos I'm Alone
And Cold Inside

Kids just won't leave be Be
they bully me day in and Out
They break Me, Belittle me
I Fell from grace, and into tears
Wish they'd leave me be

How does it feel?
How do you feel?
Shivering alone in the rain
How does it feel?
Cos I'm Alone
And Cold Inside

I feel like I am an No-One
I look to a song for solace
I feel at peace Listening
To 'Stranger In Moscow'
By Michael Jackson.

How does it feel?
How do you feel?
Shivering alone in the rain
How does it feel?
Cos I'm Alone
And Cold Inside

Like I'm A Stranger
In West Lothian
Cos I am Autistic
It goes on and On And on
It makes me feel down

How does it feel?
How do you feel?
Shivering alone in the rain
How does it feel?
Cos I'm Alone

[...] Read more

poem by Ashleigh Leona Mellon
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Somebody Knows

Out of my head and delighted, somebody knows how I feel
If you ask me to play it, you wont have to say it twice
cause Im goin to the head of the line, Im takin my life away
Im so glad you made it, and now that youre ready
Ill begin to tell you what you want, but I know
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel, I feel) somebody knows
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel, I feel)
Somebody knows what you want and what youre tryin to do
cause the same thing can happen to you
A little smoke, a little drink, can make somebody start to think
That he knows
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows (I feel, I feel)
Somebody knows what you want, when you want it
(somebody knows) when youre doin it right
Somebody sees with their feelings, and feels what theyre being tonight
And were doin it together, I know
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel, I feel) somebody knows
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel, I feel) God I know
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel) I feel somebody knows
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel, I feel)
Got what you want on the run now, keep it on in sight
Make me crazy, and you wont need me to tell you that youre doin it right
cause I know
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows, (I feel) I feel somebody knows
(I feel, I feel) somebody knows (I feel, I feel)

song performed by Kenny Loggins
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Eve Of Revolution

The trumpets of the four winds of the world
From the ends of the earth blow battle; the night heaves,
With breasts palpitating and wings refurled,
With passion of couched limbs, as one who grieves
Sleeping, and in her sleep she sees uncurled
Dreams serpent-shapen, such as sickness weaves,
Down the wild wind of vision caught and whirled,
Dead leaves of sleep, thicker than autumn leaves,
Shadows of storm-shaped things,
Flights of dim tribes of kings,
The reaping men that reap men for their sheaves,
And, without grain to yield,
Their scythe-swept harvest-field
Thronged thick with men pursuing and fugitives,
Dead foliage of the tree of sleep,
Leaves blood-coloured and golden, blown from deep to deep.

I hear the midnight on the mountains cry
With many tongues of thunders, and I hear
Sound and resound the hollow shield of sky
With trumpet-throated winds that charge and cheer,
And through the roar of the hours that fighting fly,
Through flight and fight and all the fluctuant fear,
A sound sublimer than the heavens are high,
A voice more instant than the winds are clear,
Say to my spirit, "Take
Thy trumpet too, and make
A rallying music in the void night's ear,
Till the storm lose its track,
And all the night go back;
Till, as through sleep false life knows true life near,
Thou know the morning through the night,
And through the thunder silence, and through darkness light."

I set the trumpet to my lips and blow.
The height of night is shaken, the skies break,
The winds and stars and waters come and go
By fits of breath and light and sound, that wake
As out of sleep, and perish as the show
Built up of sleep, when all her strengths forsake
The sense-compelling spirit; the depths glow,
The heights flash, and the roots and summits shake
Of earth in all her mountains,
And the inner foamless fountains
And wellsprings of her fast-bound forces quake;
Yea, the whole air of life

[...] Read more

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Stop Dead

Stop!
Stop!
Stop dead,
Stop stop stop stop stop stop
I pulled up at a west end junction (seeker of attention)
A full body kit and bass bins pumping (size up competition)
Come on red light, get into green,
I hit the brake, I must be dreaming..
Im stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Got to fix on you.
Dont wanna loose you, from my sight
Where ya going to?
Gotta know now..
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Got to fix on you.
Dont wanna loose, you from my sight
Where ya going to?
Oh-oh-oh
Ive got my eyes on the action (killer reputation)
Heat crazed in full satisfaction (become a phaser? )
Do what you do and do it to me,
Body in motion, now you see me
(chorus)
Gotta know know.. stop!
Come on now, come on now
Come on now, come on now
Wise up to remain young victim (come on, ways of attraction)
A full scale attack on the system (come on, no one visor? )
Do what you do and do it to me,
Im into red line territory
And im..
(chorus)
Stop!, dead in my tracks again,
Im stop dead in my tracks
Stop!, in my tracks (yeah)
Im stop dead in my tracks
(oh-oh) gotta know know..
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)
Stop! (stop), dead! (dead), in my tracks (in my tracks)

song performed by Duran Duran
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Golden Legend: III. A Street In Strasburg

Night.
PRINCE HENRY _wandering alone, wrapped in a cloak._

_Prince Henry._ Still is the night. The sound of feet
Has died away from the empty street,
And like an artisan, bending down
His head on his anvil, the dark town
Sleeps, with a slumber deep and sweet.
Sleepless and restless, I alone,
In the dusk and damp of these wails of stone,
Wander and weep in my remorse!

_Crier of the dead (ringing a bell)._ Wake! wake!
All ye that sleep!
Pray for the Dead!
Pray for the Dead!

_Prince Henry._ Hark! with what accents loud and hoarse
This warder on the walls of death
Sends forth the challenge of his breath!
I see the dead that sleep in the grave!
They rise up and their garments wave,
Dimly and spectral, as they rise,
With the light of another world in their eyes!

_Crier of the dead._ Wake! wake!
All ye that sleep!
Pray for the Dead!
Pray for the Dead!

_Prince Henry._ Why for the dead, who are at rest?
Pray for the living, in whose breast
The struggle between right and wrong
Is raging terrible and strong,
As when good angels war with devils!
This is the Master of the Revels,
Who, at Life's flowing feast, proposes
The health of absent friends, and pledges,
Not in bright goblets crowned with roses,
And tinkling as we touch their edges,
But with his dismal, tinkling bell,
That mocks and mimics their funeral knell!

_Crier of the dead._ Wake! wake!
All ye that sleep!
Pray for the Dead!
Pray for the Dead!

_Prince Henry._ Wake not, beloved! be thy sleep
Silent as night is, and as deep!

[...] Read more

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Jumpin'

Jumpin'
Feel like jumpin'
I feel like shouting out
I feel like movin'
And I feel like groovin' out
La la la la la
(la la la la la)
La la la la la
(la la la la la)
La la la la la
(la la la la la)
You make me feel, so good that
I just have to let you know
That I wanna stay with you all night
You make a girl feel, like she should
Every time you look my way
I get shivers up my spine
La la la la la
(la la la la la)
La la la la la
(la la la la la)
La la la la la
(la la la la la)
And I feel like jumpin' all night long with you
I feel like laughin'
Lord I feel like cryin' out
I feel like sighin'
And I feel like flyin' out
La la la la la
(la la la la la)
La la la la la
(la la la la la)
La la la la la
(la la la la la)
And I feel like jumpin' all night long with you
You really got me, so hot now
It's the way you do me baby
It's the way we dream it's alright
You make a girl feel so real that I
I wanna give it all to you
I wanna stay all night
Ooh hoo hoo
Ooh hoo hoo
Ooh hoo hoo
Ooh hoo hoo
Feel like jumpin'
I feel like shouting out
I feel like movin'
And I feel like groovin' out
La la la la la

[...] Read more

song performed by 411
Added by Lucian Velea
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Where the Dead Men Lie

Out on the wastes of the Never Never -
That's where the dead men lie!
There where the heat-waves dance forever -
That's where the dead men lie!
That's where the Earth's loved sons are keeping
Endless tryst: not the west wind sweeping
Feverish pinions can wake their sleeping -
Out where the dead men lie!

Where brown Summer and Death have mated -
That's where the dead men lie!
Loving with fiery lust unsated -
That's where the dead men lie!
Out where the grinning skulls bleach whitely
Under the saltbush sparkling brightly;
Out where the wild dogs chorus nightly -
That's where the dead men lie!

Deep in the yellow, flowing river -
That's where the dead men lie!
Under the banks where the shadows quiver -
That's where the dead men he!
Where the platypus twists and doubles,
Leaving a train of tiny bubbles.
Rid at last of their earthly troubles -
That's where the dead men lie!

East and backward pale faces turning -
That's how the dead men lie!
Gaunt arms stretched with a voiceless yearning -
That's how the dead men lie!
Oft in the fragrant hush of nooning
Hearing again their mother's crooning,
Wrapt for aye in a dreamful swooning -
That's how the dead men lie!

Only the hand of Night can free them -
That's when the dead men fly!
Only the frightened cattle see them -
See the dead men go by!
Cloven hoofs beating out one measure,
Bidding the stockmen know no leisure -
That's when the dead men take their pleasure!
That's when the dead men fly!

Ask, too, the never-sleeping drover:
He sees the dead pass by;
Hearing them call to their friends - the plover,
Hearing the dead men cry;
Seeing their faces stealing, stealing,

[...] Read more

poem by Barcroft Henry Thomas Boake
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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.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1818)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Orlando Furioso Canto 17

ARGUMENT
Charles goes, with his, against King Rodomont.
Gryphon in Norandino's tournament
Does mighty deeds; Martano turns his front,
Showing how recreant is his natural bent;
And next, on Gryphon to bring down affront,
Stole from the knight the arms in which he went;
Hence by the kindly monarch much esteemed,
And Gryphon scorned, whom he Martano deemed.

I
God, outraged by our rank iniquity,
Whenever crimes have past remission's bound,
That mercy may with justice mingled be,
Has monstrous and destructive tyrants crowned;
And gifted them with force and subtlety,
A sinful world to punish and confound.
Marius and Sylla to this end were nursed,
Rome with two Neros and a Caius cursed;

II
Domitian and the latter Antonine;
And, lifted from the lowest rabble's lees,
To imperial place and puissance, Maximine:
Hence Thebes to cruel Creon bent her knees,
Mezentius ruled the subject Agiline,
Fattening his fields with blood. To pests like these
Our Italy was given in later day,
To Lombard, Goth, and Hun a bleeding prey.

III
What shall I of fierce Attila, what say
Of wicked Ezzeline, and hundreds more?
Whom, because men still trod the crooked way,
God sent them for their pain and torment sore.
Of this ourselves have made a clear assay,
As well as those who lived in days of yore;
Consigned to ravening wolves, ordained to keep
Us, his ill-nurturing and unuseful sheep;

IV
Who, as if having more than served to fill
Their hungry maw, invite from foreign wood
Beyond the mountain, wolves of greedier will,
With them to be partakers of their food.
The bones which Thrasymene and Trebbia fill,
And Cannae, seem but few to what are strewed
On fattened field and bank, where on their way
Adda and Mella, Ronco and Tarro stray.

[...] Read more

poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Rosalind and Helen: a Modern Eclogue

ROSALIND, HELEN, and her Child.

SCENE. The Shore of the Lake of Como.

HELEN
Come hither, my sweet Rosalind.
'T is long since thou and I have met;
And yet methinks it were unkind
Those moments to forget.
Come, sit by me. I see thee stand
By this lone lake, in this far land,
Thy loose hair in the light wind flying,
Thy sweet voice to each tone of even
United, and thine eyes replying
To the hues of yon fair heaven.
Come, gentle friend! wilt sit by me?
And be as thou wert wont to be
Ere we were disunited?
None doth behold us now; the power
That led us forth at this lone hour
Will be but ill requited
If thou depart in scorn. Oh, come,
And talk of our abandoned home!
Remember, this is Italy,
And we are exiles. Talk with me
Of that our land, whose wilds and floods,
Barren and dark although they be,
Were dearer than these chestnut woods;
Those heathy paths, that inland stream,
And the blue mountains, shapes which seem
Like wrecks of childhood's sunny dream;
Which that we have abandoned now,
Weighs on the heart like that remorse
Which altered friendship leaves. I seek
No more our youthful intercourse.
That cannot be! Rosalind, speak,
Speak to me! Leave me not! When morn did come,
When evening fell upon our common home,
When for one hour we parted,--do not frown;
I would not chide thee, though thy faith is broken;
But turn to me. Oh! by this cherished token
Of woven hair, which thou wilt not disown,
Turn, as 't were but the memory of me,
And not my scornèd self who prayed to thee!

ROSALIND
Is it a dream, or do I see
And hear frail Helen? I would flee
Thy tainting touch; but former years
Arise, and bring forbidden tears;

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poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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