Misfortunes do not flourish on one path, they grow everywhere.
Pawnee proverbs
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Related quotes
[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]
POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR
POEMS
1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Grow
Grow.
Difficult it is.
And in the doing,
It is magical too.
If you,
Allow yourself to grow.
And not gloat upon your sensitivities.
With emotions on your sleeve to show.
Slow and determine,
To acquire knowledge.
And not upon it sit.
Become more inquisitive...
About life as it exists.
Don't permit,
Given criticisms to stop your quest.
The more that is learned,
The more of them...
May just manifest.
Grow.
It will become easy to be embittered,
By all that appears stagnant.
But a patience that develops,
Will within you begin to navigate...
Over obstacles and things that irritate.
You can and will,
Grow.
Show it with defined purpose.
Grow.
Don't fear ignorance.
Grow.
Overcome it like hopping a fence.
You can and will,
Grow.
Don't sit and bemoan your fate.
Grow.
Ignorance is not bliss.
Grow,
Ignorance can twist,
An unconscious mind into bits!
You can and will,
Grow.
Like a flower that blooms.
And reaches towards the sky.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Now That Youre Gone
(bernard edwards/nile rodgers)
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
Im living my life all alone
Or hit by a blow
To my pride
But Im doing ok
I wont let you see
What this has done to me
I guess Ill just take it in stride
Come what may
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
How can one do what should be done by two
I guess thats a crazy question to ask
I might seem happy
But dont be fooled by my appearance
Make no mistake
Im just wearing a mask
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
Now that youre gone
My nights grow long
My nights grow long
[...] Read more
song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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On A Path Of Least Resistance
I'm on a path of least resistance.
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance.
I'm on a path of least resistance,
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance.
Pain,
And its existence.
Felt,
And its existence.
Hurts,
In this existence...
And I need to get away.
Pain,
And its existence.
Felt,
And its existence.
Hurts,
In this existence...
And I need to get away.
I'm on a path of least resistance.
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance,
And I need to get away.
I'm on a path of least resistance.
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance,
And I need to get away.
Oh!
Pain,
And its existence.
Oh.
Felt,
And its existence.
Oh.
Hurts,
In this existence...
And I need to get away.
Oh pain,
And its existence.
Oh.
Felt,
And its existence.
Oh.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Karma Theory Of Islam
God has written down in brief
Our endless life story
That is being played
On the seven-storied stage of sky!
.
At the same time it’s also true:
We are the architects
Of our own future
Cause we get result of what we do!
However we’ll have the final result
Of our actions on the Day of Resurrection!
God acts according to plans
We should also plan our future
And try to make it happen.
Even God does not know everything
In absolute detail
And He doesn’t need to know it.
It is an endless story
Even God forgets some things
After zillions and zillions of years
That’s one of the reasons
Why God has written down every important matter
Be it big or small on Laohay Mahfuz.
Therefore we should also read and write
To preserve and spread our wisdom.
There are seventy thousand paths
That lead to paradise
For example
Path of Belief
Path of Truthfulness
Path of Remembrance of God
Path of Charity
Path of Salat
Path of Fasting
Path of Tax
Path of Hajj
And so on.
All the aforesaid paths are straight paths
That leads to respective gates of paradise!
In fact Pool Sirat has seventy thousand levels
All end at the respective gates of paradise!
The Gate of Faith of paradise is the biggest
And it is the must have access to paradise.
However
For a hassle-free journey to paradise
[...] Read more
poem by Asif Andalib
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Empire State Human
Since I was very young I realised
I never wanted to be human size
So I avoid the crowds and traffic jams
They just remind me of how small I am
Because of this longing in my heart
Im going to start the growing up
Im going to grow now and never stop
Think like a mountain, grow to the top
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
With concentration
My size increased
And now Im fourteen stories high
At least!!
Empire state human
Just a bored kid
Ill go to egypt to be
A pyramid
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Tall, tall, tall, I want to be tall, tall, tall
As big as a wall, wall, wall, as big as a wall, wall, wall
And if Im not tall, tall, tall, then I will grow, grow, grow
Because Im not tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall, tall
Brick by brick
Stone by stone
Growing till hes fully grown
Brick by brick
Stone by stone
Growing till hes fully grown
Fetch more water
Fetch more sand
Biggest person in the land
Fetch more water
Fetch more sand
Biggest person in the land
song performed by Human League
Added by Lucian Velea
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BE My Lifes Companion
Be my life's companion, and you'll never grow old
I'll love you so much that you'll never grow old
When there's joy in livin' you just never grow old
You've got to stay young 'cause you'll never grow old
People who are lonely can be old at thirty-three
Don't let it happen to you, it didn't happen to me
Be my life's companion and you'll never grow old
You'll never grow old, no, you'll never grow old
Love and youth and happiness are yours to have and hold
Be my life's companion, and you'll never grow old
I know a man who's lonely, and he's old at thirty-three
No one wants to be - old at thirty-three
Your disposition sours like a lemon on a tree
Don't let it happen to you, and I won't let it happen to me
Be my life's companion and you'll never grow old
I'll love you so much that you'll never grow old
Love and youth and happiness are yours to have and hold
Be my life's companion and you'll never grow old
Be my life's companion and you'll never grow old
Lucille, I'll love you so much that you'll never grow old
Love and youth and happiness are yours to have and hold
Be my life's companion and you'll never grow old
song performed by Louis Armstrong
Added by Lucian Velea
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English Bards and Scotch Reviewers: A Satire
'I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew!
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers'~Shakespeare
'Such shameless bards we have; and yet 'tis true,
There are as mad, abandon'd critics too,'~Pope.
Still must I hear? -- shall hoarse Fitzgerald bawl
His creaking couplets in a tavern hall,
And I not sing, lest, haply, Scotch reviews
Should dub me scribbler, and denounce my muse?
Prepare for rhyme -- I'll publish, right or wrong:
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
O nature's noblest gift -- my grey goose-quill!
Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will,
Torn from thy parent bird to form a pen,
That mighty instrument of little men!
The pen! foredoom'd to aid the mental throes
Of brains that labour, big with verse or prose,
Though nymphs forsake, and critics may deride,
The lover's solace, and the author's pride.
What wits, what poets dost thou daily raise!
How frequent is thy use, how small thy praise!
Condemn'd at length to be forgotten quite,
With all the pages which 'twas thine to write.
But thou, at least, mine own especial pen!
Once laid aside, but now assumed again,
Our task complete, like Hamet's shall be free;
Though spurn'd by others, yet beloved by me:
Then let us soar today, no common theme,
No eastern vision, no distemper'd dream
Inspires -- our path, though full of thorns, is plain;
Smooth be the verse, and easy be the strain.
When Vice triumphant holds her sov'reign sway,
Obey'd by all who nought beside obey;
When Folly, frequent harbinger of crime,
Bedecks her cap with bells of every clime;
When knaves and fools combined o'er all prevail,
And weigh their justice in a golden scale;
E'en then the boldest start from public sneers,
Afraid of shame, unknown to other fears,
More darkly sin, by satire kept in awe,
And shrink from ridicule, though not from law.
Such is the force of wit! but not belong
To me the arrows of satiric song;
The royal vices of our age demand
A keener weapon, and a mightier hand.
[...] Read more
I Will Nourish
I will nourish.
And will grow.
I wish to encourage,
Others uncertain to flourish.
And know they too can soar.
I will nourish.
And will grow.
I wish to encourage,
Others uncertain to flourish.
And know they too can soar.
OH
I
Will
Nourish!
And I will grow.
This is what I want,
And I will make it so!
Yes...
OH
I
Will
Nourish!
And I will grow.
This is what I want,
And I will make it so!
Yes...
This is what I want,
And I will make it so!
I will nourish.
And will grow.
I wish to encourage,
Others uncertain...
To flourish,
With courage.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Lifes path
There are so many paths in life
I guess I could say
I ve walked them all
The right path
The wrong path
The path of pain
The path of good
The path of bad
Which path do I now take
At this present time of life
The path I take is the path of pain.
The path of hurt
So many paths I have walked
But im lost in the path
The path of pain
Amy Kerswell
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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II. Half-Rome
What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)
Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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I Don't Wanna Grow Up
When I'm lyin' in my bed at night I don't wanna grow up
Nothing ever seems to turn out right I don't wanna grow up
How do you move in a world of fog that's always
Changing things Makes wish that I could be a dog
When I see the price that you pay I don't wanna grow up
I don't ever want to be that way I don't wanna grow up
Seems that folks turn into things that they
Never want The only thing to live for is today...
I'm gonna put a hole in my T.V. set I don't wanna grow up
Open up the medicine chest I don't wanna grow up
I don't wanna have to shout it out I don't want my hair to fall out
I don't wanna be filled with doubtI don't wanna be a good boy scout
I don't wanna have to learn to count I don't wanna have the biggest amount
I don't wanna grow up
Well when I see my parents fight I don't wanna grow up
They all go out and drinkin' all night I don't wanna grow up
I'd rather stay here in my room Nothin' out there but sad and gloom
I don't wanna live in a big old tomb on grand street
When I see the 5 o'clock news I don't wanna grow up
Comb their hair and shine their shoes I don't wanna grow up
Stay around in my old hometown I don't wanna put no money down
I don't wanna get a big old loan Work them fingers to the bone
I don't wanna float on a broom Fall in love, get married then boom
How the hell did it get here so soon I don't wanna grow up
song performed by Ramones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mc Champion
And now..
You're mc champions, ultra-magnetic
"i am sealing off the dimensional window
Closing the hole in the fabric of the cosmos like a scar"
[ced gee]
Ahh yeah
One two, one two
This is agent ble-ced gee
Ultramagnetic's in full effect
We in here droppin freestyle rhymes like mc champions
So keith, take it away
[kool keith]
Power compactor, brain distractor
Droppin a bomb, right in your anal connector
Sector, vector, the lyric inspector
X-ray vision, powerful spector
Lexor, mechtor, egor
Ah yes yes y'all, and you don't stop
The rhythm i drop to hit the top to make your swing go pop
As i flow, pick up the micro'
Poem get hypo, tension as original
Lyrical miracle, back to attack one
Black one, white one, green one or blue one
Colorful sweet rhymes, i'm back to do one
Or two of you, three of you, or four of you
Five or six or seven, eleven of you
Wack mc's get back in the last line
And wait on the mic, you think i'm ready to pass mine
Up in the brougham, with clever ability
I know when to sting a brain, just like i'm a killer bee
Hittin em hard with the rhyme as the flame throw
Hardcore, softcore, and even the rainbow
Polka-dot mc's, african, indians
Spanish-american, mixed with panamanian
Arabian nubian, speak in siberian
Japanese chinese, and regular mc's
Preachers, teachers, and negative creatures
I roll and kick a rhyme, you grab your mic back
Sidewind and rattle like a snake i strike back
I chew your brain and, the monkey behind you
Your company management, the dummy who signed you
To pick up the slack but the hype ain't sellin many
Records and tapes cause your rap ain't tellin any
Metaphor phrases, things that amazes
Me the next man, no biter or innovator
With lyrical instinct, you look like a duplicator
Bitin my style, nibblin on the big jock
With rhymes so tight, they keep your brain in the headlock
Count the one two three four five
I'm like like pushwagons, tag-teamin your dome
[...] Read more
song performed by Ultramagnetic Mc's
Added by Lucian Velea
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Green Grow the Rashes
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
There's nought but care on ev'ry han',
In every hour that passes, O
What signifies the life o' man,
An' 'twere na for the lasses, O.
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
The warl'y race may riches chase,
An' riches still may fly them, O
An' tho' at last they catch them fast,
Their hearts can ne'er enjoy them, O.
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
But gie me a cannie hour at e'en,
My arms about my dearie, O,
An' warl'y cares an' war'ly men
May a' gae tapsalteerie, O!
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
For you sae douce, ye sneer at this
Ye're nought but senseless asses, O
The wisest man the warl' e'er saw,
He dearly lov'd the lasses, O.
Green grow the rashes, O
Green grow the rashes, O
The sweetest hours that e'er I spend,
Are spent among the lasses, O
Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears
Her noblest work she classes, O
Her prentice han' she try'd on man,
An' then she made the lasses, O.
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Burns
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Grow Old
i grow old, i grow old
i shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled
and steal from TS Eliot
thinking no-one knows
i grow old, i grow old
i shall cease to do what i am told
and stay in bed till sunset
when the weather gets too cold
i grow old, i grow old
i shall only wear my crumpled clothes
and look disdainfully at others
when they roll up their nose
i grow old, i grow old
i shall watch events unfold
and take a greater pleasure
in an elder statesman role.
i grow old, i grow old
i shall never play lawn bowls
and never will watch cricket
that's too boring for the soul.
i grow old, i grow old
but i shall never be so bold
as to admonish others
when my views they do not hold.
poem by David Keig
Added by Poetry Lover
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Divergent Faith
A path; continued In time
For self interest
Not of mine, other
This path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
The path in between
Two segments of brain.
Thin, enkindled with light of own.
Difference! The path in between two segments
Knows how to meet with.
And, this path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
Drenched late autumn with
Glamorous night & quiet mist
Likely go in for convergence.
Dew laps faith
This dropp of faith
Seems to dark
Dazzling spark.
The path of late autumn
Encircle the wreath of faith
And, this path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
Eternal path
An elisium of solemn soul
Who burn with passion.
Time; a narrow passing mate
Although the path live
In the course time.
And, this path is not of meet with
Rather divergent faith.
poem by Onon Sarker
Added by Poetry Lover
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Amazon Jungle After Alfred Tennyson The Brook
By mangrove swamps I idle round,
my canopy's world wonder,
leafcutter ants beneath the ground
where three toed sloths would wander.
Tall forest Tarzan never knew
from ground grows great, colossal.
My ecosystem filters through
sward broadleaf basin fossil.
I wind about, and in and out,
with here a silted delta,
an anaconda round about
observes the helter-skelter.
Pass here and there a native hut
pirogues moored to lianas,
with cataracts which canyons cut
mid mangroves and bananas.
I link all life all along my route,
but scoff at lilly-liver,
some men pollute both tree and root -
for them who cares a stiver.
I'd slide by lazing jaguars
admired by nature lovers,
lush greens, blush browns flushed far from bars,
barred are crass concrete covers.
I turn, return, upstream and down,
here deep, there sleep in shallows,
wild orchid winning wonder's crown:
soon jungle man's trace swallows.
Six thousand kilometers long
from Andes to Atlantic
my tributaries maze among
an area gigantic.
I'd flourish under moon and stars
an Eden no machetes
can cut down, with no motor cars,
few churches, no confettis.
My birds and monkeys most hirsute
cry by the flowing river,
though men pollute both tree and root,
Time is the best forgiver.
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poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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IV. Tertium Quid
True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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