Turn of phrase.
Latin proverbs
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Related quotes
Percys Song
Bad news, bad news,
Come to me where I sleep,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Sayin one of your friends
Is in trouble deep,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Tell me the trouble,
Tell once to my ear,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Joliet prison
And ninety-nine years,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Oh whats the charge
Of how this came to be,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Manslaughter
In the highest of degree,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
I sat down and wrote
The best words I could write,
Turn, turn, turn again.
Explaining to the judge
Id be there on wednesday night,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Without a reply,
I left by the moon,
Turn, turn, turn again.
And was in his chambers
By the next afternoon,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
Could ya tell me the facts?
I said without fear,
Turn, turn, turn again.
That a friend of mine
Would get ninety-nine years,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
A crash on the highway
Flew the car to a field,
Turn, turn, turn again.
There was four persons killed
And he was at the wheel,
Turn, turn to the rain
And the wind.
But I knew him as good
[...] Read more
song performed by Bob Dylan
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Turn It Up
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
My signal's gettin' kinda weak
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
I know U got 2 be a freak, ooh
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
I'm still waiting by the knob
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
I'm ready 4 the heavy stuff, oh yeah
CHORUS:
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Come and play with my controls
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Work me like a radio (oh, oh)
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Work it 'til I start 2 groove, ooh
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
I know U know what 2 do (Girl, U know what 2 do)
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Work it 'til my clothes are wet
Turn it up, turn it up
I wanna drown in your body's sweat! (Oh yeah)
CHORUS
Now turn it up!
Come here
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Give me everything U got
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
U know I know U got a lot (Oh yeah)
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
I'll play what U want me 2 play
Turn it up, turn it up
It ain't no good unless U turn it up all the way - yeah, yeah!
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Come and play with my controls (oh, oh)
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Work me like a radio (Come on, baby, turn it up)
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Come and play with my controls (oh)
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Work me like a radio (Listen 2 me now)
Come on baby, what's it gonna be?
Are U gonna do it or are U gonna leave it up 2 me?
Are U gonna stop? Are U gonna drop?
Kiss me, kiss me! Yeah!
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Come and play with my controls (oh)
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Work me like a radio (Come on, gotta, gotta, gotta..) (Oh yeah)
Turn it up, turn it up, baby
Come and play with my controls (oh)
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator
Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!
It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!
Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Turn The Beat Around (Def Classic Mix)
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn the beat around
Love to hear the percussion
Turn it upside down
Love to hear the percussion
Love to hear it
Blow horns you sure sound pretty
Your violins keep movin' to the nitty gritty
When you hear the scratch of the guitars scratchin'
Then you'll know that rhythm carries all the action, so
Woah yeah
Turn the beat around
Love to hear the percussion
Turn it upside down
Love to hear the percussion
Love to hear it
Turn the beat around
Love to hear the percussion
Turn it upside down
Love to hear the percussion
Love to hear it
Flute player play your flute 'cause
I know that you want to get your thing off
But you see I've made up my mind about it
It's got to be the rhythm, no doubt about it, woah woah
'Cause when the guitar player start playing
With the syncopated rhythm, with the scratch, scratch, scratch
Makes me wanna move my body yeah, yeah, yeah
And when the drummer starts beating that beat
He nails that beat with the syncopated rhythm
With the rat, tat, tat, tat, tat, tat on the drums, hey
Turn the beat around
Love to hear the percussion
Turn it upside down
Love to hear the percussion
Love to hear it
Love to hear it
Love to hear it
Love to hear it
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it upside down
Turn the beat around
Love to hear the percussion
Turn it upside down
Love to hear the percussion
[...] Read more
song performed by Gloria Estefan
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Music Time
Written by dennis deyoung
Lead vocals by dennis deyoung
Hey everybody its music time
Now, you cant expect to figure out how to be cool looking in catalogs, so forget about it
Youve gotta do it the old-fashioned way...fake it!
Yeah!
Play your drum boy!
I like music
The rhythm really gets to me
I cant control it
My feet move automatically
And I like hot licks
The kind I wish that I could play
And when I hear them
I crank the volume all the way
Turn it on
Turn it up
Turn it loud
All the way
I like strangers
Their kindness means a lot to me
They dont ask questions
Dont care about my history
And I like fast girls
I dont know whats come over me
They make me do things
I would not ordinarily
Turn me on
Turn me up
Turn me loose
All the way
Hear it
Feel it
Like it
Do it do it do it do it
Want it
Need it
Love it
Cant get enough of it
Try it
Do it
Go ahead and go for it
All the way......
And I like daydreams
Ive had enough reality
My job is boring
Im overworked and underpaid
I like tv
It stirs up all my fantasies
Girls in tight jeans
[...] Read more
song performed by Styx
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Turn Around
Turn around and I will show you something
Turn around and you will see
Life is like a roundabout
A kind of lsd
Turn around and have faith in all the changes
Turn around and you will feel
No more age of loneliness
You are a part of me
Turn around and I will show you something
Turn around and I will show you something
Turn around and I will show you something
Turn around and you will see
Life is just a roundbout
A kind of lsd
Turn around have faith in all the changes
Turn around and you will feel
No more age of loneliness
You are a part of me
Turn around~turn around~turn around
~~~~sandra whispers~~~~
Beyond the invisible, the prism of life
Turn around~turn around~turn around
The child in us, gravity of love
Turn around~turn around~turn around
Morphing thru time
Turn around ~turn around~turn around
Turn around and I will show you something amazing
Turn around and you will see
Life is just a roundabout
A kind of lsd
Turn around have faith in all the changes
Turn around and you will feel
No more age of loneliness
You are part of me
~~~~sandra whispers~~~~
The screen behind the mirror
The voice and the snake
Principles of lust
The eyes of truth
Tnt for the brain
Turn around and I will show you something
Turn around and you will see
Life is just a roundabout, a kind of lsd
Turn around and I will show you something
Turn around and you will see
Life is like a roundabout
A kind of lsd
~~~repeat~~~
T..t..t.. turn around and I will show you something
song performed by Enigma
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Turn To Me
Turn to me, Burning me, Turn to me, Burning me
From all the taking down,
To the driving far away.
As if we're lost and found,
Removing us everyday yeah.
Pushing things too far,
Or never moving it along.
Forgiving and forget,
Only makes one person strong.
Hoping and finding, resisting, denying,
Hey, with your classic words of
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
There's no familiar face, or a hand to cling upon,
We've walked a short distance, but it took so very long.
Hoping and fighting, resisting, denying,
With your classic words of
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Knowing that we'll jump a little too high to live
Knowing that it's safe, but not safe enogh to give.
Your heart, your dream, no give, no recieve,
Respect, believe, turn to me.
Turn to me, burning me
Turn to me, time to turn you off,
Burning, me, turn to me, resisting, denying.
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do
When you turn to me, need more days
And the time to turn you off.
Oh why don't you, why don't you, why don't you, why don't you, why don't you
turn to me baby, time to turn you off,
Turning me not burning me, turning me not burning me, now turning me not
burning me, yeahhhhhh.
Turning me, oh burning me now na-ba-dupa-ba-dupa-ba-dupa yeahhhhhh
Turn me, oh burning me, why don't you burn me yeahhhhh
Turn to me, that's what you say
When you're burning me, that's what you do,
[...] Read more
song performed by Vanessa Amorosi
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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto II
THE ARGUMENT
The Saints engage in fierce Contests
About their Carnal interests;
To share their sacrilegious Preys,
According to their Rates of Grace;
Their various Frenzies to reform,
When Cromwel left them in a Storm
Till, in th' Effigy of Rumps, the Rabble
Burns all their Grandees of the Cabal.
THE learned write, an insect breeze
Is but a mungrel prince of bees,
That falls before a storm on cows,
And stings the founders of his house;
From whose corrupted flesh that breed
Of vermin did at first proceed.
So e're the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant Capricious sects,
The maggots of corrupted texts,
That first run all religion down,
And after ev'ry swarm its own.
For as the Persian Magi once
Upon their mothers got their sons,
That were incapable t' enjoy
That empire any other way;
So PRESBYTER begot the other
Upon the good old Cause, his mother,
Then bore then like the Devil's dam,
Whose son and husband are the same.
And yet no nat'ral tie of blood
Nor int'rest for the common good
Cou'd, when their profits interfer'd,
Get quarter for each other's beard.
For when they thriv'd, they never fadg'd,
But only by the ears engag'd:
Like dogs that snarl about a bone,
And play together when they've none,
As by their truest characters,
Their constant actions, plainly appears.
Rebellion now began, for lack
Of zeal and plunders to grow slack;
The Cause and covenant to lessen,
And Providence to b' out of season:
For now there was no more to purchase
O' th' King's Revenue, and the Churches,
But all divided, shar'd, and gone,
That us'd to urge the Brethren on;
Which forc'd the stubborn'st for the Cause,
[...] Read more
poem by Samuel Butler
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Turn Of The Screw
Do you feel the turn of the screw?
Pushing harder, breaking through
It's better than you ever knew
Now it gets to take care of you
I won't go and tell it
Don't bet you're due
It swings enough to know the truth
It even left you black and blue
Never stop when there's nothing left to do
The turn of the screw, the turn of the screw
The thing you said you'd never do
The turn of the screw, the turn of the screw
There's no backing out once you've turned the screw
You never thought what they say could be
One night alone and you would see
I think you'll take back all those doubts
Now you know what the talk was all about
The turn of the screw, the turn of the screw
The thing you said you'd never do
The turn of the screw, the turn of the screw
There's no backing out once you've turned the screw
Turn, Turn, Turn it around
Turn, Turn, Turn it here on the ground
Turn, Turn, Turn it around
Turn, Turn, Turn it here on the ground
The turn of the screw, the turn of the screw
The thing you said you'd never do
The turn of the screw, the turn of the screw
There's no backing out once you've turned the screw
The Turn of the Screw
The Turn of the Screw
The Turn of the Screw
The Turn of the Screw1
song performed by 1208
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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Turn To Me
If you gave up major vices
Youre between a hard place and a wall
And your car breaks down in traffic
On the street
Remember, Im the one who loves you
You can always give me a call
Turn to me, turn to me
Baby, turn to me
If your father is free basing
And your mother turning tricks
Thats still no reason
You should have a rip
Remember, Im the one who loves you
You can always give me a call
Turn to me, turn to me
Turn to me
When your teeth are ground down to the bone
And theres nothing between your legs
And some friend died of something
That you cant pronounce, ah
Remember, Im the one who loves you
Hey baby, you can always give me a call
Turn to me, turn to me
Turn to me
You cant pay your rent, your boss is an idiot
And your apartment has no heat
And your wife says, maybe
Its time to have a child
Remember, Im the one who loves you
And you can always give me a call
Turn to me, turn to me
Turn to me
When its all too much you turn the tv set on
And light a cigarette
And then a public service announcement
Comes creeping on
And you see a lung corroding
Or a fatal heart attack
Turn to me, turn to me
Baby, turn to me, Im just a phone call away
Turn to me, turn to me
Hey, turn to me, one .... a dollar
Turn to me, baby
Turn to me
(turn to me, turn to me
Turn to me)
(turn to me, turn to me
Turn to me)
song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Let's Turn It On
Let's turn it on, and get everybody thinking, thinking, thinking,
Let's turn it on, everybody song and dancing, dancing, dancing,
Let's turn it on, let's turn it on,
All the people got to get the right impression
Turn it on, turn it on, turn it on,
Why don't we turn it on and let's stop everybody fighting.
Let's get it on, let's get everybody jumping,
Let's get it on and get everybody stamping,
Let's get it on, let's get it on,
All the people got to get the right impression,
Let's get it on, turn it on, and let's get everybody dancing.
Let's turn it on, yeah
Nobody is giving it up, yeah, yeah,
Everybody is living it up, yeah,
Everybody is living it up, living it up, let's turn it on,
Yeah, nobody is giving it up, everybody is living it up, yeah,
Everybody is living it up
Let's turn it on, turn it on, yeah,
Dancing, dancing, dancing, dancing
Let's turn it on, and get everybody swinging,
Let's turn it on, get right into that lovely feeling,
Let's turn it on, yeah, come on all you people get together,
Turn it on, turn it on, turn it on,
And let's get everybody dancing.
Turn it on and get everybody happy,
Let's turn it on, let's make everybody happy,
Let's turn it on, let's turn it on,
come on all you, all you happy people together,
Turn it on, yeah, turn it on, turn it on,
Let's make everybody crazy!
song performed by Queen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Introit : VIII. The Golden Joy
What has the poet but a glorious phrase
And the heart's wisdom? -- Oh, a Joy of gold!
A Joy to mint and squander on the Kind,--
Pure gold coined current for eternity,
Giving dear wealth to men for a long age,
And after, lost to sight and touch of hands,
Leaving a memory that will bud and bloom
And blossom all into a lyric phrase--
The glorious phrase again on other lips,
The heritage of Joy, the heart again,
Wisdom anew that ages not but lives
To Sappho-sing the Poet else forgot.
O Joy! O secret transport of mystic vision,
Who hold'st the keys of Ivory and Horn,
Who join'st the hands of Earth and Faerie!
Thou art the inmate of the hermit soul
That shuns the touch of every street-worn wind
Sweet to all else, the shuns doctrine and doubt,
To wait in trembling quietness for thee.
Thou art the spouse of the busy human mind
That bravely, sanely, bears his worldly part
And claims no favour for the gift of thee:
But, Nature's child, lives true in Nature's right,
Filling the duties of the Tribe of Man,
Keeping the heart, O Joy! untarnished still
And pinion-strong to soar the exalted way.
The Poet guards the philosophic soul
In contemplation that no importunate thought
May mar his ecstasy or change his song;
And though he see the gloom and sing of sorrow,
He is the world's Herald of Joy at last:
His song is Joy, the music that needs sorrow
To fill its closes, as Death fulfils Life,
As Life fills Time, and Time Eternity:
Joy that sees Death, yet in Death sees not woe.
O Joy! the Spring is green -- on many a wall
The roses straggle, on many a tree dew-laden;
And now the waters murmur 'neath their banks
And all the flocks are loud with firstling cries,
And in the heart of life Joy wakes anew
To live a long day ere the winter falls;
And now the song of an invisible lark,
And now a child's voice makes the morning glad;
The kindling sky and the mist-wreathed earth
Have broken from the drowsihood of night,--
Dawn widened grey, but now the orient blush
Is over all the roses on the wall,
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas MacDonagh
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Sp00l
Turn another turn...
Turn another turn, sp00l...
I think therefore I am, familiar to most?
How long did we eat the seed planted by our host?
4 billion years between our ears
Still hatred brings us many tears
Still we judge each other...
Why when were only looking for the same high?
Grind time for old misconceptions.
Roll out new scenery as per suggestion.
Wont salute you. wont desert you.
Wont be a prisoner of assumption anymore.
Does language define us? is reality... words?
How far do we appear to be...
Is the measure of... scope. but...
With our junkie soul, we face the need,
Of natures planned dependency.
Dont hold contempt for ecstasy
Just... mourn the dead... on the (national) screen,
Mourn the dead... on the screen, mourn the dead...
On the screen, mourn the dead... while they scream!!!
Grind time for old misconceptions.
Roll out new scenery as per suggestion.
Wont salute you. wont desert you.
Sp00l
Turn another turn!
Turn another turn!
Sp00l
Turn another turn!
Dont need persuading by the status quo.
We can make changes.
If we open up well see... the history they sell us
Holds the structure firm, reinforce the mold.
We need to strip it all away....
And let the sp00l turn, turn,
Another turn,
Another turn.
Watch it turn, watch it turn. what well learn.
Grind time for old misconceptions.
Roll out new scenery as per suggestion.
Wont salute you. wont desert you.
Sp00l
Turn another turn!
Turn another turn!
Sp00l
Turn another turn!
Push away what theyre selling me,
Realize what we need to be.
Focus on a strategy to
Open up our minds and then,
[...] Read more
song performed by Queensryche
Added by Lucian Velea
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Thermostat
When the hands that operate the motor lose control of the lever
When the mind of its own in the wheel puts two and two together
When the indicator says youre out of oil should you continue driving anyway?
Theres a thermostat that regulates the temperature
That might not be reliable
That should be disconnected
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
As I was just saying
As I was just saying
As I was just telling you a minute ago
I was just talking and someone interrupted
Or was it a loud explosion?
Or is the thermostat engulfed in flames
Or is it just me?
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
As I was just saying
As I was just saying
As I was just saying
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
Turn it up when the cold brings you down
When the heat bothers you turn it down
Turn it up, turn it down
song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Turn Around
I was working all night in my office
When a man I had recently killed
Called me up from a phone near my building
So I looked out the window at him
He had the same obsequious manner
That was the reason I had him killed
So to calm my nerves I sang this song
To him, over the phone
Turn around, turn around
Theres a thing there that can be found
Turn around, turn around
Its a human skull on the ground
Human skull on the ground
Turn around
I was out by myself in the graveyard
I was doing an interpretive dance
When I felt something heavy and pointed
Strike me in the back of the neck
And then the ghost of my dance instructor
Pushed me down into an open grave
And as dirt rained down she played a xylophone
And sang me this song
Turn around, turn around
Theres a thing there that can be found
Turn around, turn around
Its a human skull on the ground
Human skull on the ground
Turn around
We were waving our arms out the window
Of a fast moving passenger train
Acting in an irresponsible fashion
Until the engineer whose back had been turned
And who we thought would find us highly amusing
Quickly swiveled his head around
And his face which was a paper-white mask of evil
Sang us this song
Turn around, (round) turn around (round)
Theres a thing there that can be found (theres a thing there that can be)
Turn around, (found) turn around (round)
Its a human skull on the ground (its a human skull on the)
Human skull (ground) on the ground (round)
Turn around (turn around, turn around)
Turn around, (round) turn around (round)
Theres a thing there that can be found (theres a thing there that can be)
Turn around, (found) turn around (round)
Its a human skull on the ground (its a human skull on the)
Human skull (ground) on the ground (round)
Turn around (turn around, turn around)
song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Turn Turn Turn
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracings
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
song performed by Wilson Phillips
Added by Lucian Velea
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Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is A Season)
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracings
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under Heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late
To everything
Turn, turn, turn
There is a season
Turn, turn, turn
song performed by Wilson Phillips
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Canto the Ninth
I
Oh, Wellington! (or "Villainton" -- for Fame
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways;
France could not even conquer your great name,
But punn'd it down to this facetious phrase --
Beating or beaten she will laugh the same),
You have obtain'd great pensions and much praise:
Glory like yours should any dare gainsay,
Humanity would rise, and thunder "Nay!"
II
I don't think that you used Kinnaird quite well
In Marinet's affair -- in fact, 't was shabby,
And like some other things won't do to tell
Upon your tomb in Westminster's old abbey.
Upon the rest 't is not worth while to dwell,
Such tales being for the tea-hours of some tabby;
But though your years as man tend fast to zero,
In fact your grace is still but a young hero.
III
Though Britain owes (and pays you too) so much,
Yet Europe doubtless owes you greatly more:
You have repair'd Legitimacy's crutch,
A prop not quite so certain as before:
The Spanish, and the French, as well as Dutch,
Have seen, and felt, how strongly you restore;
And Waterloo has made the world your debtor
(I wish your bards would sing it rather better).
IV
You are "the best of cut-throats:" -- do not start;
The phrase is Shakspeare's, and not misapplied:
War's a brain-spattering, windpipe-slitting art,
Unless her cause by right be sanctified.
If you have acted once a generous part,
The world, not the world's masters, will decide,
And I shall be delighted to learn who,
Save you and yours, have gain'd by Waterloo?
V
I am no flatterer -- you've supp'd full of flattery:
They say you like it too -- 't is no great wonder.
He whose whole life has been assault and battery,
At last may get a little tired of thunder;
And swallowing eulogy much more than satire, he
May like being praised for every lucky blunder,
Call'd "Saviour of the Nations" -- not yet saved,
And "Europe's Liberator" -- still enslaved.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Don Juan: Canto The Ninth
Oh, Wellington! (or 'Villainton'--for Fame
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways;
France could not even conquer your great name,
But punn'd it down to this facetious phrase-
Beating or beaten she will laugh the same),
You have obtain'd great pensions and much praise:
Glory like yours should any dare gainsay,
Humanity would rise, and thunder 'Nay!'
I don't think that you used Kinnaird quite well
In Marinet's affair--in fact, 'twas shabby,
And like some other things won't do to tell
Upon your tomb in Westminster's old abbey.
Upon the rest 'tis not worth while to dwell,
Such tales being for the tea-hours of some tabby;
But though your years as man tend fast to zero,
In fact your grace is still but a young hero.
Though Britain owes (and pays you too) so much,
Yet Europe doubtless owes you greatly more:
You have repair'd Legitimacy's crutch,
A prop not quite so certain as before:
The Spanish, and the French, as well as Dutch,
Have seen, and felt, how strongly you restore;
And Waterloo has made the world your debtor
(I wish your bards would sing it rather better).
You are 'the best of cut-throats:'--do not start;
The phrase is Shakspeare's, and not misapplied:
War's a brain-spattering, windpipe-slitting art,
Unless her cause by right be sanctified.
If you have acted once a generous part,
The world, not the world's masters, will decide,
And I shall be delighted to learn who,
Save you and yours, have gain'd by Waterloo?
I am no flatterer- you 've supp'd full of flattery:
They say you like it too- 't is no great wonder.
He whose whole life has been assault and battery,
At last may get a little tired of thunder;
And swallowing eulogy much more than satire, he
May like being praised for every lucky blunder,
Call'd 'Saviour of the Nations'--not yet saved,
And 'Europe's Liberator'--still enslaved.
I've done. Now go and dine from off the plate
Presented by the Prince of the Brazils,
And send the sentinel before your gate
A slice or two from your luxurious meals:
He fought, but has not fed so well of late.
[...] Read more