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Edvard Grieg

Artists like Bach and Beethoven erected churches and temples on the heights. I wanted, as Ibsen expresses it in once of his last dramas, to build dwellings for men in which they might feel at might feel happy and at home.

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Edvard Grieg

Artists like Bach and Beethoven erected churches and temples on the heights. I only wanted... to build dwellings for men in which they might feel happy and at home.

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Suppose We Should Feel Happy

Suppose we should feel happy for to live another day
When one more wealthy person by the reaper called away
Into the life hereafter if there be such a thing
Who can say of this paradise where happy angels sing.

Suppose we should feel happy though circumstance we curse
We may not have much money though things could be far worse
And we ought to count our blessings for our good gift of health
Though it would seem a bonus to add to that some wealth.

Suppose we should feel happy and we ought not complain
If we can't afford the roof repairs though it always leaks in rain
This is the Christian principle 'be happy with your lot'
But how can you feel happy if money you haven't got? .

Suppose you should feel happy though the rent is overdue
And the landlord for his payment is pressurizing you
And your fridge is almost empty and not much food left to eat
And you and your wife and two young children might soon be on the street.

Suppose we should feel happy though we are in the red
And we can't sleep for worrying we toss and turn in bed
And the refrigerator is empty and the child cry to be fed
And suppose we should feel happy 'those words are easily said'.

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I Feel Happy

Mammas got a feeling, shes up all night
Do we give in?
Do we let go of the fight?
Well I dont know
Dont wanna be down, dragged through, messed around
Everybodys got their little fights to fight
I say no
I feel happy
I feel happy
I feel happy
Nothing you can say or do
Is ever gonna make me feel blue
No, no
Monkey see and monkey do
Follow me, Ill follow you
Well not tonight
Not this time
So cool to be suicidal
Maybe I will get up and feel good today
Cause this is my life
I feel happy
I feel happy
I feel happy
Nothing you can say or do
Is ever gonna make me feel blue
No, no
Monkey see and monkey do
Follow me, Ill follow you
Well not tonight
Not this time
So cool to be suicidal
Maybe I will get up and feel good today
Cause this is my life
I feel happy
I feel happy
I feel happy
Nothing you can say or do
Is ever gonna make me feel blue
No, no

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Live And Die

I get up Friday morning and I'm late for school
Only 13, but I got a mad pull, it's cool
Who needs a job when I can steal and rob
Making all that money, but my mom don't think it's funnly
Call up the Homies cuz today's the day they gonna make a man of me
A gangsta, an O.G. They say I'm young, but I got much heart
Feel like a kid inside, I know how to play the part
Gotta get jumped in, but man it ain't no thang
5 minutes of pain for the love of a gang
Might not be right, but it's all I Know
Messed up and joined a gang, gave away my soul
[Chorus]
Nothing matters to me, except right now
Make it through till tomorrow, some way some how
You don't understand, but it makes sense to me
I won't stop until I rest in peace
[2x]
I got my first 9-lim, so brothers beware looking to get into some trouble
All it takes is a stare without a care, I see some fools that ain't from my set
Represent what I claim, then take my respect scared as heck,
But I'm down with how you figure, you might be big
But my trigga is bigga, Bust five shots as I fall to the floor
Within a single second, I become Hardcore
I knew this morning, it would be one of those days G'
I missed them suckas again, but hit a lady and her baby
[Chorus 2x]
Get that fool
Live by the sword, Die by the sword
Innocent life, what they dying for
Live by the Gat, die by the gun
Who suffers when it's all said and done
[2x

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John Dryden

Palamon And Arcite; Or, The Knight's Tale. From Chaucer. In Three Books. Book I.

In days of old there lived, of mighty fame,
A valiant Prince, and Theseus was his name;
A chief, who more in feats of arms excelled,
The rising nor the setting sun beheld.
Of Athens he was lord; much land he won,
And added foreign countries to his crown.
In Scythia with the warrior Queen he strove,
Whom first by force he conquered, then by love;
He brought in triumph back the beauteous dame,
With whom her sister, fair Emilia, came.
With honour to his home let Theseus ride,
With Love to friend, and Fortune for his guide,
And his victorious army at his side.
I pass their warlike pomp, their proud array,
Their shouts, their songs, their welcome on the way;
But, were it not too long, I would recite
The feats of Amazons, the fatal fight
Betwixt the hardy Queen and hero Knight;
The town besieged, and how much blood it cost
The female army, and the Athenian host;
The spousals of Hippolyta the Queen;
What tilts and turneys at the feast were seen;
The storm at their return, the ladies' fear:
But these and other things I must forbear.

The field is spacious I design to sow
With oxen far unfit to draw the plough:
The remnant of my tale is of a length
To tire your patience, and to waste my strength;
And trivial accidents shall be forborn,
That others may have time to take their turn,
As was at first enjoined us by mine host,
That he, whose tale is best and pleases most,
Should win his supper at our common cost.
And therefore where I left, I will pursue
This ancient story, whether false or true,
In hope it may be mended with a new.
The Prince I mentioned, full of high renown,
In this array drew near the Athenian town;
When, in his pomp and utmost of his pride
Marching, he chanced to cast his eye aside,
And saw a quire of mourning dames, who lay
By two and two across the common way:
At his approach they raised a rueful cry,
And beat their breasts, and held their hands on high,
Creeping and crying, till they seized at last
His courser's bridle and his feet embraced.
“Tell me,” said Theseus, “what and whence you are,
And why this funeral pageant you prepare?
Is this the welcome of my worthy deeds,
To meet my triumph in ill-omened weeds?
Or envy you my praise, and would destroy
With grief my pleasures, and pollute my joy?
Or are you injured, and demand relief?
Name your request, and I will ease your grief.”
The most in years of all the mourning train
Began; but swounded first away for pain;
Then scarce recovered spoke: “Nor envy we
“Thy great renown, nor grudge thy victory;
'Tis thine, O King, the afflicted to redress,
And fame has filled the world with thy success:
We wretched women sue for that alone,
Which of thy goodness is refused to none;
Let fall some drops of pity on our grief,
If what we beg be just, and we deserve relief;
For none of us, who now thy grace implore,
But held the rank of sovereign queen before;
Till, thanks to giddy Chance, which never bears
That mortal bliss should last for length of years,
She cast us headlong from our high estate,
And here in hope of thy return we wait,
And long have waited in the temple nigh,
Built to the gracious goddess Clemency.
But reverence thou the power whose name it bears,
Relieve the oppressed, and wipe the widows' tears.
I, wretched I, have other fortune seen,
The wife of Capaneus, and once a Queen;
At Thebes he fell; cursed be the fatal day!
And all the rest thou seest in this array
To make their moan their lords in battle lost,
Before that town besieged by our confederate host.
But Creon, old and impious, who commands
The Theban city, and usurps the lands,
Denies the rites of funeral fires to those
Whose breathless bodies yet he calls his foes.
Unburned, unburied, on a heap they lie;
Such is their fate, and such his tyranny;
No friend has leave to bear away the dead,
But with their lifeless limbs his hounds are fed.”
At this she shrieked aloud; the mournful train
Echoed her grief, and grovelling on the plain,
With groans, and hands upheld, to move his mind,
Besought his pity to their helpless kind.

The Prince was touched, his tears began to flow,
And, as his tender heart would break in two,
He sighed; and could not but their fate deplore,
So wretched now, so fortunate before.
Then lightly from his lofty steed he flew,
And raising one by one the suppliant crew,
To comfort each, full solemnly he swore,
That by the faith which knights to knighthood bore,
And whate'er else to chivalry belongs,
He would not cease, till he revenged their wrongs;
That Greece should see performed what he declared,
And cruel Creon find his just reward.
He said no more, but shunning all delay
Rode on, nor entered Athens on his way;
But left his sister and his queen behind,
And waved his royal banner in the wind,
Where in an argent field the God of War
Was drawn triumphant on his iron car.
Red was his sword, and shield, and whole attire,
And all the godhead seemed to glow with fire;
Even the ground glittered where the standard flew,
And the green grass was dyed to sanguine hue.
High on his pointed lance his pennon bore
His Cretan fight, the conquered Minotaur:
The soldiers shout around with generous rage,
And in that victory their own presage.
He praised their ardour, inly pleased to see
His host, the flower of Grecian chivalry.
All day he marched, and all the ensuing night,
And saw the city with returning light.
The process of the war I need not tell,
How Theseus conquered, and how Creon fell;
Or after, how by storm the walls were won,
Or how the victor sacked and burned the town;
How to the ladies he restored again
The bodies of their lords in battle slain;
And with what ancient rites they were interred;
All these to fitter time shall be deferred:
I spare the widows' tears, their woful cries,
And howling at their husbands' obsequies;
How Theseus at these funerals did assist,
And with what gifts the mourning dames dismissed.

Thus when the victor chief had Creon slain,
And conquered Thebes, he pitched upon the plain
His mighty camp, and when the day returned,
The country wasted and the hamlets burned,
And left the pillagers, to rapine bred,
Without control to strip and spoil the dead.

There, in a heap of slain, among the rest
Two youthful knights they found beneath a load oppressed
Of slaughtered foes, whom first to death they sent,
The trophies of their strength, a bloody monument.
Both fair, and both of royal blood they seemed,
Whom kinsmen to the crown the heralds deemed;
That day in equal arms they fought for fame;
Their swords, their shields, their surcoats were the same:
Close by each other laid they pressed the ground,
Their manly bosoms pierced with many a grisly wound;
Nor well alive nor wholly dead they were,
But some faint signs of feeble life appear;
The wandering breath was on the wing to part,
Weak was the pulse, and hardly heaved the heart.
These two were sisters' sons; and Arcite one,
Much famed in fields, with valiant Palamon.
From these their costly arms the spoilers rent,
And softly both conveyed to Theseus' tent:
Whom, known of Creon's line and cured with care,
He to his city sent as prisoners of the war;
Hopeless of ransom, and condemned to lie
In durance, doomed a lingering death to die.

This done, he marched away with warlike sound,
And to his Athens turned with laurels crowned,
Where happy long he lived, much loved, and more renowned.
But in a tower, and never to be loosed,
The woful captive kinsmen are enclosed.

Thus year by year they pass, and day by day,
Till once ('twas on the morn of cheerful May)
The young Emilia, fairer to be seen
Than the fair lily on the flowery green,
More fresh than May herself in blossoms new,
(For with the rosy colour strove her hue,)
Waked, as her custom was, before the day,
To do the observance due to sprightly May;
For sprightly May commands our youth to keep
The vigils of her night, and breaks their sluggard sleep;
Each gentle breast with kindly warmth she moves;
Inspires new flames, revives extinguished loves.
In this remembrance Emily ere day
Arose, and dressed herself in rich array;
Fresh as the month, and as the morning fair,
Adown her shoulders fell her length of hair:
A ribband did the braided tresses bind,
The rest was loose, and wantoned in the wind:
Aurora had but newly chased the night,
And purpled o'er the sky with blushing light,
When to the garden-walk she took her way,
To sport and trip along in cool of day,
And offer maiden vows in honour of the May. 190

At every turn she made a little stand,
And thrust among the thorns her lily hand
To draw the rose; and every rose she drew,
She shook the stalk, and brushed away the dew;

Then party-coloured flowers of white and red
She wove, to make a garland for her head:
This done, she sung and carolled out so clear,
That men and angels might rejoice to hear;
Even wondering Philomel forgot to sing,
And learned from her to welcome in the spring.
The tower, of which before was mention made,
Within whose keep the captive knights were laid,
Built of a large extent, and strong withal,
Was one partition of the palace wall;
The garden was enclosed within the square,
Where young Emilia took the morning air.

It happened Palamon, the prisoner knight,
Restless for woe, arose before the light,
And with his jailor's leave desired to breathe
An air more wholesome than the damps beneath.
This granted, to the tower he took his way,
Cheered with the promise of a glorious day;
Then cast a languishing regard around,
And saw with hateful eyes the temples crowned
With golden spires, and all the hostile ground.
He sighed, and turned his eyes, because he knew
'Twas but a larger jail he had in view;
Then looked below, and from the castle's height
Beheld a nearer and more pleasing sight;
The garden, which before he had not seen,
In spring's new livery clad of white and green,
Fresh flowers in wide parterres, and shady walks between.
This viewed, but not enjoyed, with arms across
He stood, reflecting on his country's loss;
Himself an object of the public scorn,
And often wished he never had been born.
At last (for so his destiny required),
With walking giddy, and with thinking tired,

He through a little window cast his sight,
Though thick of bars, that gave a scanty light;
But even that glimmering served him to descry
The inevitable charms of Emily.

Scarce had he seen, but, seized with sudden smart,
Stung to the quick, he felt it at his heart;
Struck blind with overpowering light he stood,
Then started back amazed, and cried aloud.

Young Arcite heard; and up he ran with haste,
To help his friend, and in his arms embraced;
And asked him why he looked so deadly wan,
And whence, and how, his change of cheer began?
Or who had done the offence? “But if,” said he,
“Your grief alone is hard captivity,
For love of Heaven with patience undergo
A cureless ill, since Fate will have it so:
So stood our horoscope in chains to lie,
And Saturn in the dungeon of the sky,
Or other baleful aspect, ruled our birth,
When all the friendly stars were under earth;
Whate'er betides, by Destiny 'tis done;
And better bear like men than vainly seek to shun.”
Nor of my bonds,” said Palamon again,
Nor of unhappy planets I complain;
But when my mortal anguish caused my cry,
The moment I was hurt through either eye;
Pierced with a random shaft, I faint away,
And perish with insensible decay:
A glance of some new goddess gave the wound,
Whom, like Actaeon, unaware I found.
Look how she walks along yon shady space;
Not Juno moves with more majestic grace,
And all the Cyprian queen is in her face.
If thou art Venus (for thy charms confess
That face was formed in heaven), nor art thou less,
Disguised in habit, undisguised in shape,
O help us captives from our chains to scape!
But if our doom be past in bonds to lie
For life, and in a loathsome dungeon die,
Then be thy wrath appeased with our disgrace,
And show compassion to the Theban race,
Oppressed by tyrant power!”—While yet he spoke,
Arcite on Emily had fixed his look;
The fatal dart a ready passage found
And deep within his heart infixed the wound:
So that if Palamon were wounded sore,
Arcite was hurt as much as he or more:
Then from his inmost soul he sighed, and said,
The beauty I behold has struck me dead:
Unknowingly she strikes, and kills by chance;
Poison is in her eyes, and death in every glance.
Oh, I must ask; nor ask alone, but move
Her mind to mercy, or must die for love.”

Thus Arcite: and thus Palamon replies
(Eager his tone, and ardent were his eyes,)
“Speakest thou in earnest, or in jesting vein?”
“Jesting,” said Arcite, “suits but ill with pain.”
It suits far worse,” (said Palamon again,
And bent his brows,) “with men who honour weigh,
Their faith to break, their friendship to betray;
But worst with thee, of noble lineage born,
My kinsman, and in arms my brother sworn.
Have we not plighted each our holy oath,
That one should be the common good of both;
One soul should both inspire, and neither prove
His fellow's hindrance in pursuit of love?
To this before the Gods we gave our hands,
And nothing but our death can break the bands.

This binds thee, then, to farther my design,
As I am bound by vow to farther thine:
Nor canst, nor darest thou, traitor, on the plain
Appeach my honour, or thy own maintain,
Since thou art of my council, and the friend
Whose faith I trust, and on whose care depend.
And wouldst thou court my lady's love, which I
Much rather than release, would choose to die?
But thou, false Arcite, never shalt obtain,
Thy bad pretence; I told thee first my pain:
For first my love began ere thine was born;
Thou as my council, and my brother sworn,
Art bound to assist my eldership of right,
Or justly to be deemed a perjured knight.”

Thus Palamon: but Arcite with disdain
In haughty language thus replied again:
“Forsworn thyself: the traitor's odious name
I first return, and then disprove thy claim.
If love be passion, and that passion nurst
With strong desires, I loved the lady first.
Canst thou pretend desire, whom zeal inflamed
To worship, and a power celestial named?
Thine was devotion to the blest above,
I saw the woman, and desired her love;
First owned my passion, and to thee commend
The important secret, as my chosen friend.
Suppose (which yet I grant not) thy desire
A moment elder than my rival fire;
Can chance of seeing first thy title prove?
And knowst thou not, no law is made for love?
Law is to things which to free choice relate;
Love is not in our choice, but in our fate;
Laws are not positive; love's power we see
Is Nature's sanction, and her first decree,
Each day we break the bond of human laws
For love, and vindicate the common cause.
Laws for defence of civil rights are placed,
Love throws the fences down, and makes a general waste.
Maids, widows, wives without distinction fall;
The sweeping deluge, love, comes on and covers all.
If then the laws of friendship I transgress,
I keep the greater, while I break the less;
And both are mad alike, since neither can possess.
Both hopeless to be ransomed, never more
To see the sun, but as he passes o'er.
Like Asop's hounds contending for the bone,
Each pleaded right, and would be lord alone;
The fruitless fight continued all the day,
A cur came by and snatched the prize away.
As courtiers therefore justle for a grant,
And when they break their friendship, plead their want,
So thou, if Fortune will thy suit advance,
Love on, nor envy me my equal chance:
For I must love, and am resolved to try
My fate, or failing in the adventure die.”

Great was their strife, which hourly was renewed,
Till each with mortal hate his rival viewed:
Now friends no more, nor walking hand in hand;
But when they met they made a surly stand,
And glared like Angry lions as they passed,
And wished that every look might be their last.

It chanced at length, Pirithous came to attend
This worthy Theseus, his familiar friend:
Their love in early infancy began,
And rose as childhood ripened into man,
Companions of the war; and loved so well,
That when one died, as ancient stories tell,
His fellow to redeem him went to hell.

But to pursue my tale: to welcome home
His warlike brother is Pirithous come:
Arcite of Thebes was known in arms long since,
And honoured by this young Thessalian prince.
Theseus, to gratify his friend and guest,
Who made our Arcite's freedom his request,
Restored to liberty the captive knight,
But on these hard conditions I recite:
That if hereafter Arcite should be found
Within the compass of Athenian ground,
By day or night, or on whate'er pretence,
His head should pay the forfeit of the offence.
To this Pirithous for his friend agreed,
And on his promise was the prisoner freed.

Unpleased and pensive hence he takes his way,
At his own peril; for his life must pay.
Who now but Arcite mourns his bitter fate,
Finds his dear purchase, and repents too late?
“What have I gained,” he said, “in prison pent,
If I but change my bonds for banishment?
And banished from her sight, I suffer more
In freedom than I felt in bonds before;
Forced from her presence and condemned to live,
Unwelcome freedom and unthanked reprieve:
Heaven is not but where Emily abides,
And where she's absent, all is hell besides.
Next to my day of birth, was that accurst
Which bound my friendship to Pirithous first:
Had I not known that prince, I still had been
In bondage and had still Emilia seen:
For though I never can her grace deserve,
'Tis recompense enough to see and serve.
O Palamon, my kinsman and my friend,
How much more happy fates thy love attend I

Thine is the adventure, thine the victory,
Well has thy fortune turned the dice for thee:
Thou on that angel's face mayest feed thy eyes,
In prison, no; but blissful paradise!
Thou daily seest that sun of beauty shine,
And lovest at least in love's extremest line.
I mourn in absence, love's eternal night;
And who can tell but since thou hast her sight,
And art a comely, young, and valiant knight,
Fortune (a various power) may cease to frown,
And by some ways unknown thy wishes crown?
But I, the most forlorn of human kind,
Nor help can hope nor remedy can find;
But doomed to drag my loathsome life in care,
For my reward, must end it in despair.
Fire, water, air, and earth, and force of fates
That governs all, and Heaven that all creates,
Nor art, nor Nature's hand can ease my grief;
Nothing but death, the wretch's last relief:
Then farewell youth, and all the joys that dwell
With youth and life, and life itself, farewell!
But why, alas! do mortal men in vain
Of Fortune, Fate, or Providence complain?
God gives us what he knows our wants require,
And better things than those which we desire:
Some pray for riches; riches they obtain;
But, watched by robbers, for their wealth are slain;
Some pray from prison to be freed; and come,
When guilty of their vows, to fall at home;
Murdered by those they trusted with their life,
A favoured servant or a bosom wife.
Such dear-bought blessings happen every day,
Because we know not for what things to pray.
Like drunken sots about the streets we roam:

“Well knows the sot he has a certain home,
Yet knows not how to find the uncertain place,
And blunders on and staggers every pace.
Thus all seek happiness; but few can find,
For far the greater part of men are blind.
This is my case, who thought our utmost good
Was in one word of freedom understood:
The fatal blessing came: from prison free,
I starve abroad, and lose the sight of Emily.”

Thus Arcite: but if Arcite thus deplore
His sufferings, Palamon yet suffers more.
For when he knew his rival freed and gone,
He swells with wrath; he makes outrageous moan;
He frets, he fumes, he stares, he stamps the ground;
The hollow tower with clamours rings around:
With briny tears he bathed his fettered feet,
And dropped all o'er with agony of sweat.
“Alas!” he cried, “I, wretch, in prison pine,
Too happy rival, while the fruit is thine:
Thou livest at large, thou drawest thy native air,
Pleased with thy freedom, proud of my despair:
Thou mayest, since thou hast youth and courage joined,
A sweet behaviour and a solid mind,
Assemble ours, and all the Theban race,
To vindicate on Athens thy disgrace;
And after (by some treaty made) possess
Fair Emily, the pledge of lasting peace.
So thine shall be the beauteous prize, while I
Must languish in despair, in prison die.
Thus all the advantage of the strife is thine,
Thy portion double joys, and double sorrows mine.”

The rage of jealousy then fired his soul,
And his face kindled like a burning coal
Now cold despair, succeeding in her stead,
To livid paleness turns the glowing red.
His blood, scarce liquid, creeps within his veins,
Like water which the freezing wind constrains.
Then thus he said: “Eternal Deities,
“Who rule the world with absolute decrees,
And write whatever time shall bring to pass
With pens of adamant on plates of brass;
What is the race of human kind your care
Beyond what all his fellow-creatures are?
He with the rest is liable to pain,
And like the sheep, his brother-beast, is slain.
Cold, hunger, prisons, ills without a cure,
All these he must, and guiltless oft, endure;
Or does your justice, power, or prescience fail,
When the good suffer and the bad prevail?
What worse to wretched virtue could befal,
If Fate or giddy Fortune governed all?
Nay, worse than other beasts is our estate:
Them, to pursue their pleasures, you create;
We, bound by harder laws, must curb our will,
And your commands, not our desires, fulfil:
Then, when the creature is unjustly slain,
Yet, after death at least, he feels no pain;
But man in life surcharged with woe before,
Not freed when dead, is doomed to suffer more.
A serpent shoots his sting at unaware;
An ambushed thief forelays a traveller;
The man lies murdered, while the thief and snake,
One gains the thickets, and one thrids the brake.
This let divines decide; but well I know,
Just or unjust, I have my share of woe,
Through Saturn seated in a luckless place,
And Juno's wrath that persecutes my race;
Or Mars and Venus in a quartil, move
My pangs of jealousy for Arcite's love,”

Let Palamon oppressed in bondage mourn,
While to his exited rival we return.
By this the sun, declining from his height,
The day had shortened to prolong the night:
The lengthened night gave length of misery,
Both to the captive lover and the free:
For Palamon in endless prison mourns,
And Arcite forfeits life if he returns;
The banished never hopes his love to see,
Nor hopes the captive lord his liberty.
'Tis hard to say who suffers greater pains;
One sees his love, but cannot break his chains;
One free, and all his motions uncontrolled,
Beholds whate'er he would but what he would behold.
Judge as you please, for I will haste to tell
What fortune to the banished knight befel.
When Arcite was to Thebes returned again,
The loss of her he loved renewed his pain;
What could be worse than never more to see
His life, his soul, his charming Emily?
He raved with all the madness of despair,
He roared, he beat his breast, he tore his hair.
Dry sorrow in his stupid eyes appears,
For wanting nourishment, he wanted tears;
His eyeballs in their hollow sockets sink,
Bereft of sleep; he loathes his meat and drink;
He withers at his heart, and looks as wan
As the pale spectre of a murdered man:
That pale turns yellow, and his face receives
The faded hue of sapless boxen leaves;
In solitary groves he makes his moan,
Walks early out, and ever is alone;
Nor, mixed in mirth, in youthful pleasure shares,
But sighs when songs and instruments he hears.

His spirits are so low, his voice is drowned,
He hears as from afar, or in a swound,
Like the deaf murmurs of a distant sound:
Uncombed his locks, and squalid his attire,
Unlike the trim of love and gay desire;
But full of museful mopings, which presage
The loss of reason and conclude in rage.

This when he had endured a year and more,
Now wholly changed from what he was before,
It happened once, that, slumbering as he lay,
He dreamt (his dream began at break of day)
That Hermes o'er his head in air appeared,
And with soft words his drooping spirits cheered;
His hat adorned with wings disclosed the god,
And in his hand he bore the sleep-compelling rod;
Such as he seemed, when, at his sire's command,
On Argus' head he laid the snaky wand.
“Arise,” he said, “to conquering Athens go;
There Fate appoints an end of all thy woe.”
The fright awakened Arcite with a start,
Against his bosom bounced his heaving heart;
But soon he said, with scarce recovered breath,
And thither will I go to meet my death,
Sure to be slain; but death is my desire,
Since in Emilia's sight I shall expire.”
By chance he spied a mirror while he spoke,
And gazing there beheld his altered look;
Wondering, he saw his features and his hue
So much were changed, that scarce himself he knew.
A sudden thought then starting in his mind,
“Since I in Arcite cannot Arcite find,
The world may search in vain with all their eyes,
But never penetrate through this disguise.
Thanks to the change which grief and sickness give,
In low estate I may securely live,
And see, unknown, my mistress day by day.”
He said, and clothed himself in coarse array,
A labouring hind in show; then forth he went,
And to the Athenian towers his journey bent:
One squire attended in the same disguise,
Made conscious of his master's enterprise.
Arrived at Athens, soon he came to court,
Unknown, unquestioned in that thick resort:
Proffering for hire his service at the gate,
To drudge, draw water, and to run or wait.

So fair befel him, that for little gain
He served at first Emilia's chamberlain;
And, watchful all advantages to spy,
Was still at hand, and in his master's eye;
And as his bones were big, and sinews strong,
Refused no toil that could to slaves belong;
But from deep wells with engines water drew,
And used his noble hands the wood to hew.
He passed a year at least attending thus
On Emily, and called Philostratus.
But never was there man of his degree
So much esteemed, so well beloved as he.
So gentle of condition was he known,
That through the court his courtesy was blown:
All think him worthy of a greater place,
And recommend him to the royal grace;
That exercised within a higher sphere,
His virtues more conspicuous might appear.
Thus by the general voice was Arcite praised,
And by great Theseus to high favour raised;
Among his menial servants first enrolled,
And largely entertained with sums of gold:
Besides what secretly from Thebes was sent,

Of his own income and his annual rent.
This well employed, he purchased friends and fame,
But cautiously concealed from whence it came.
Thus for three years he lived with large increase
In arms of honour, and esteem in peace;
To Theseus' person he was ever near,
And Theseus for his virtues held him dear.

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Like birds and beasts

Like birds and beasts
I being a man enjoying
Sense pleasures.
More and more I am desiring
Objects and money and I
Indulge in hoarding money
And adopting foul means
Falsehood fraud thefts robberies
And I am proud of myself
I am totally damned.

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Like Obama and America

My dear Naomi
Have you been loving me?
Like President Obama
And America
Have you been faithful to me?
.
My dear Naomi,
What would you have me say?
I have been loving you my
whole life.
Like America and its president,
I have been faithful to you.

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I Wanna Love Like Jhonney and June:

I wanna love like Jhonney and June,
And only with you,
I wanna burn with you,
In passion,
Like Jhonney and June did.

I want you to get drunk one my kiss,
As I do on yours,
Your such a sweet man,
All I want is have a love like Johnney and June had.

Theres somethin' 'bout you,
That drives me crazy,
I wanna walk the line with you,
And only you.

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Give And Take

All that i e'er wanted

Was to feel the gentle
Of your rain

To touch the velvet
Of Rose Petals

To sing Loves, sweet refrain

All that i e'er needed

Was to breathe, your name

To hear the melody
Of Your Voice

In life's, unending game


All that i e'er desired

Was for a fire to burn
To feel your warm embers
And their sweet glow

Just to have your love, in return

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Like Cats And Dogs

like cats and dogs shall we
be in the morning till nighttime
that is how they want to see us,
in a brawl, a fight, an argument
a wrestle, a push and pull,
but whew, time gets so tired
too, and well, we got to talk
and settle the inevitable,
tonight we shall give them
rain, and again, as they
expected, we shall be
like, sort of, raining
cats and dogs, but this
time, we shall be inside
a dark room, we shall
try how is it just to listen.

you know what i mean,
unrobe me.

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I Like You And I Love You

I LIKE YOU Met I LOVE You, face to face;
The path was narrow, and they could not pass.
I LIKE YOU smiled; I LOVE YOU cried, Alas!
And so they halted for a little space.

'Turn thou and go before,' I LOVE YOU said,
'Down the green pathway, bright with many a flower;
Deep in the valley, lo! my bridal bower
Awaits thee.' But I LIKE YOU shook his head.

Then while they lingered on the span-wide shelf
That shaped a pathway round the rocky ledge,
I LIKE You bared his icy dagger's edge,
And first he slew I LOVE You,--then himself.

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like This And Like That

i say:
'how do i do,
this algebra homework? '
daddy says:
'like this and like that'
but i nerver understand,
the home work given by mrs gray,

i say:
'how do i do,
this science homework? '
sister says:
'like this and like that'
but i swear i never understand,
the home work given by mr carlson.

i say:
'how do i do,
this english assignment? '
little brother says:
'like this and like that'
but it is awonder,
i never understand,
the english work,
given by dr moscovitz

the thing is,
i only want to,
get a pencil and apiece of paper,
and start writing a,
POEM.................

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I Guess I'll Get The Papers And Go Home

Yes, I guess I'll get the papers and go home
Like I've been doin' ever since we've been apart
I get some consolation when I read
Of someone elses lonely heart, yes
I wonder if you get the papers too
And if you feel as melancholy as I do
Until you're in my arms again, never more to roam
I guess I'll get the papers and go home, yes
I guess I'll get the papers and go home
Like I've been doin' ever since we've been apart
Yes, I get some consolation when I read
Of someone elses lonely heart
Mmm, I wonder if you get the papers too
And if you feel as melancholy as I do
Baby, till you're in my arms again, never more to roam
I guess I'll get the papers and go home
Yes, I guess I'll get the papers and go home

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They only feel real when...

they only feel real when
pretending to be themselves…’

sometimes, psychology and poetry and philosophy
come close together; and like a dog
meeting another dog for the first time,
we’re cautious – that statement has legs
and claws and teeth … do we want to meet it,
might it be more fierce than it looks,
is it that ‘too much truth’ which mankind - says poor Tom -
cannot bear?

our tails quarter-wag, wag and stop,
our weight’s on our back legs,
caution is advised..

we’ll back away right now,
wait for the next meeting;
meanwhile, there’s always the tree to sniff,
a sharp reminder of the bone we’ll gnaw,
hide, dig up yet again, and gnaw…
gnawing on our own blood not the bone,
living a dog’s life, a dogged life,
mongrel, thoroughbred, alike:
.

only feeling real, when
pretending to be ourselves.

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Like You And I Were In A Marriage?

You say I have been harsh and critical,
Aloof and seem to be unreasonably embittered.
You also make claims I have been unapproachable,
And that my actions are more like a quitter.

You say,
Whenever you come to visit my home...
I sit with very little to exchange in conversation.
And my hospitality has begun to get 'edgy'...
As if I don't want to communicate in the sharing of,
Those topics you pick.

'I see...
When was the last time you invited me,
To come to your home?
Or invited me out anywhere? '

Well...
I...uh...live in a...uh,
Neighborhood I don't particularly like.
And besides...
I like your music.
The meals you cook are delicious.
And...
Where else can I go,
To use a computer, watch anything I want on TV...
And not be disturbed by noisy neighbors.

'I see.
Like you and I were in a marriage? '

No. No...
Nothing like that.
Just good friends.

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Just Like You And Me

How many lovers counted all the stars in the sky?
Thanking each and every one for their one and only one
How many saw the heavens there in each other's eyes?
Knowing they were meant to be
Just like you and me
It's so hard to imagine anyone loved like this before
Through the ages all the poets said it's true
That a heart could surely die without the love its living for
I know every part of my heart is living for you
How many loves never see the world going by?
All the days seem to float, the seasons come and go
How many grow together never really needing to try?
It's something they already know
As if it happened long ago
It's so hard to imagine anyone loved like this before
Once in a lifetime's here and now
If they ever find what we have the whole world will be sure
If they ever get it perfect, it's you and I that showed em how
There's no denying no one ever loved like this before
It's something surely anyone can see
Though there may have been the perfect love so many times before
Who knew they'd always be together
Just like you and me
How many saw the heavens there in each other's eyes?
Knowing they were meant to be
Just like you and me

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What Is It They Should Feel

I never 'thought' to be me.
I always knew 'me'.
And I was...
Me.
Clearly defined.
And did not mind in my own mind...
That was mine,
The acceptance.
I've been cool with it.
It's a relationship I'm glad I did not miss.
However...
I never knew some pretended,
To be a 'them' they were not.
I was shocked!
Until I saw them in and out of pretensions.
They introduced with familiar shallowness.
And that with not knowing 'who' they are...
Has left what it is they should have been,
Unknown.
And that is why they have no identity.
None that goes recognized or used,
To provide them comfort.
They seem so unrelaxed and 'staged'.
They are simply non-entities.
Seeking to be unified,
By a commonness they see...
But no one feels or can relate,
What it is they should feel.
It is a desperation to save themselves.
From themselves.
But from what?
And to what depths 'that' is kept real?
Depends on 'who' and what they determine,
Is impressed by a falsity imposed.
And how severe the conditioning process,
Has been.
But then again...
I do suppose,
They have somewhere to go...
To induce 'some' kind of reality,
That frees them of their masks!

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Long Live Anna and Indian Democracy!

The passing of the bill
will prove that people’s will
Can make the nation ill
To climb corruption’s hill! ’

Anna has won through his marathon fast
A spectacular victory for all;
His Lokpal Bill has finally been passed;
Fast will be off; He set rolling the ball!

All MP’s also performed well their part;
They showed the world that Parliament’s supreme;
The people’s needs were paramount in heart;
They worked to realise the people’s dream!

The Anna Team had done too fine a job;
They helped Hazare all ways through his fast;
They were well encouraged by huge a mob;
They worked in harmony until the last!

The Resolution Anna asked had come;
The Anti-corruption bill will make it;
The happy end’’s more than hearty welcome;
The fast had become terrific a hit!

The war on Corruption is just begun;
’Tis the beginning of a struggle long;
The struggle long ought to always go on;
The country men can sing a happy song!

Long live the sacrifice of Hazare!
The aged man is hero without doubt;
The Anna Team has become bright thare;
On day twelve, they managed to win the bout!

The support ends the battle just for now;
A lot of things are to be done henceforth;
All showed their unity and country’s love;
The Bill will change the future giving mirth!

Long live Anna Hazare! Long live Indian Democracy!
Copyright By Dr John Celes 27-08-11

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Happy

I am extremely happy
Writing a poem about happy
Cheerful and joyous
What a great day
Tremendous
That’s the word I got to say

Whenever we received good news
We will jump into ecstasy
Like a Captain telling his crew
Let’s have a party
We’ve landed
In a city of beer and brew
Bring along our money
And have fun but don’t get stranded

I am so happy
I just got my PhD
It’s time to be somebody
Become a Dean of Faculty
That’s what I would always want to be

Sarah and James were so happy
Looking at their newborn baby
And singing ‘we will love you tenderly
You can lean on us surely’

Who would not be happy
To live in a villa or mansion
To have it as your own is lucky
The luxury is always attracting an attention

For a husband and wife
A good relationship is a cause for happiness
For some they would not survive
Till they learn the right art of togetherness

For me
I am always delighted and happy
I got a good job certainly
That surplus me with loads of money
Sharing it with family
Yes I am gladly
Singing happily
While driving my Lamborghini

Those children were very happy
Having fun with mommy and daddy
Crushing popcorns while watching the movie
Coming home with toys and Barbie’s

Oh my Gosh
I have won the Olympic gold
This is the happiest moment
The excitement
Is two fold

Look who’s here
My long lost pal
The time is getting near
To celebrate once again with you gal

Some people who are about to die
Will sometimes feel happy too
They can leave without saying goodbye
Occasionally or impromptu

To die for religion
As a martyr
Without condition
And fear
Bravely
Happily
Ever after
The end of a chapter

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The Gods and the People

What have you done, O skies,
That the millions should kneel to you?
Why should they lift wet eyes,
Grateful with human dew?
Why should they clasp their hands,
And bow at thy shrines, O heaven,
Thanking thy high commands
For the mercies that thou hast given?
What have those mercies been,
O thou who art called the Good?
Who trod through a world of sin,
And stood where the felon stood
What is that wondrous peace
Vouchsafed to the child of dust
For whom all doubt shall cease
In the light of thy perfect trust?
How hast Thou heard their prayers
Smoking up from the bleeding sod,
Who, crushed by their weight of cares,
Cried up to thee, Most High God

• • •

Where the swamps of Humanity sicken
Read the answer in dumb, white scars!
You, Skies, gave the sore and the stricken
The light of your far- off stars!
The children who plead are driven,
Shelterless, through the street,
Receiving the Mercy of heaven
Hard-frozen in glittering Sleet!
The women who prayed for pity,
Who called on the saving Name,
Through the walks of your merciless city,
Are crying the rent, of shame!
The starving, who gazed till the plenty
In which they might not share
Have died in their hunger, rent by
The anguish of unheard prayer !
The weary who plead for remission,
For a moment only release,
Have sunk, with unheeded petition--
This the Christ-pledged Peace.
These are the mercies of heaven,
These are the answer of God
To the prayers of the agony-shriven,
From the paths where the millions plod!
The Silent scorn of the sightless!
The callous ear of the deaf!
The wrath of Might to the mightless!
The shroud and the mourning sheaf!
Light--to behold their squalor!
Breath --to draw in life's pain!
Voices to plead and call for
Heaven's help--hearts tip bleed--in vain!

• • •

What have you done, O Church,
That the weary should bless your name?
Should come with faith's holy torch
To light up your altered fane?
Why should they kiss the folds
Of The garment of your High Priest?
Or bow to the chalice that holds
The wine of your Sacred Feast?
Have you blown out the breath of their sighs?
Have you strengthened the weak, the ill?
Have you wiped the dark tears from their eyes,
And bade their sobbing be still?
Have you touched, have you known, have you felt,
Have you bent and softly smiled
In the face of the woman who dealt
In lewdness--to feed her child?
Have you heard the cry in the night
Going up from the outraged heart,
Masked from the social sight
By the cloak that but angered the smart?
Have you heard the children's moan,
By the light of the skies denied?--
Answer, O Walls of Stone,
In the name of your Crucified!

Out of the clay of their heart-break,
From the red dew of its sod,
You have mortared your bricks for Christ's sake
And reared a palace to God
Your painters have dipped their brushes
In the tears and the blood of the race
Whom, living, your dark frown crushes
And limned--a dead Saviour's face!
Ye have seized, in the name of God, the
Child's crust from famine's dole;
You have taken the price of its body
And sung a mass for its soul!
You have smiled on the man, who, deceiving,
Paid exemption to ease your wrath !
You have cursed the pour fool who believed him,
Though her body lay prone in your path !
You have laid the seal on the lip !
You have bade us to be content !
To bow 'neath our master's whip,
And give thanks for the scourge--"heaven sent."
These, O Church are your thanks :
These are the fruits without flaw,
That flow from the chosen ranks
Who keep in your perfect law !
Doors hard locked on the homeless,
Stained glass windows for bread !
On the living, the law of dumbness,
And the law of need, for-the dead!
Better the dead, who, not needing,
Go down to the vaults of the earth,
Than the living whose hearts lie bleeding,
Crushed by you at their very birth!

What have you done, O State,
That the toilers should shout your ways?
Should light up the fires of their hate
If a "traitor" should dare dispraise?
How do you guard the trust
That the people repose in you?
Do you keep to the law of the just,
And hold to the changeless true?
What do you mean when you say
"The home of the free and brave?"
How free are your people, pray?
Have you no such thing as a slave?
What are the lauded "rights,"
Broad-sealed by your Sovereign Grace?
What are the love-feeding sights
You yield to your subject race?

The rights?-Ah ! the right to toil,
That another, idle, may reap ;
The right to make fruitful the soil,
And a meagre pittance to keep.
The right of a woman to own
Her body spotlessly pure,
And starve in the street--alone!
The right of the wronged--to endure !
The right of the slave--to its yoke,
The right of the hungry--to pray,
The right, of the toiler--to vote
For the master who buys his day !
You have sold the sun and the air,
You have dealt in the price of blood,
You have taken the lion's share
While the lion is fierce for food!
You have laid the load of the strong
On the helpless, the young, the weak!
You have trod out the purple of wrong;--
Beware where its wrath shall wreak!
"Let the voice of the People be heard!
O-- " You strangled it with your rope,
Denied the last dying word
While your Trap and your Gallows spoke!
But a thousand voices rise
Where the words of the martyr fell ;
The seed springs fast to the Skies
Watered deep from that bloody well !

• • •

Hark! Low down you will hear
The storm in the underground!
Listen, tyrants, and fear!
Quake at that muffled sound
"Heavens that mocked our dust,
Smile on, in your pitiless blue!
Silent as you are to us,
So silent are we to you!
"Churches that scourged our brains,
Priests that locked fast our hands!-
We planted the torch in Your chains:
Now gather the burning brands!
"States, that have given us law,
When we asked for the right to earn bread--
The Sword that Damocles saw
By a hair swings over your head!
What ye have sown ye shall reap :
Teardrops, and Blood, and Hate,
Gaunt gather before your Seat
And knock at your palace gate!
"There are murderers on your thrones,
There are thieves in your Justice halls!
White Leprosy cancers their stones,
And gnaws at their worm-eaten walls!
"And the Hand of Belshazzar's Feast
Writes over, in flaming light,
'Thought's kingdom no more to the Priest;
Nor the law of Right to the Might.'"

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