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Yukio Mishima

At no time are we ever in such complete possession of a journey, down to its last nook and cranny, as when we are busy with preparations for it.

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Too Busy In a Loop

Too busy in a loop,
Leaving snoopers for a scoop.
To pour upon a separate root,
To then loosen and use!

Too busy in a loop,
Leaving snoopers for a scoop.
To pour upon a root,
To then loosen and use!

Many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
Many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
Many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
Many busy in this loop have also been...

Too busy in a loop,
Leaving snoopers for a scoop.
To pour upon a root,
To then loosen and use!

Although these loopers keep their cool,
No matter who could lose...
Positions in this loop,
To control...
And rule!

Ma-many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
Too many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
So many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
Many busy in this loop have also been...

Too busy in a loop,
Leaving snoopers for a scoop.
To pour upon a separate root,
To then loosen and use!

But many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
Ma-many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
Too many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
So many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.

Although these loopers keep their cool,
No matter who could lose...
Positions in this loop,
To control...
And rule!

Too many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
Too many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.
Too many busy in this loop have also been used as tools.

[...] Read more

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Down Down

Getting busy
Cannot stop from calling the groove
Getting busy
Cannot stop from calling the groove
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
Feeling sexy, dirty thing got his eyes on me
Walks up close, took a stroke, getting down dirty
This is what you want
I'll make it so it goes on the floor
I'll have him begging for more
What you see's, what you're getting
You for me, you will stick it
It's so hot, in this kitchen
So baby let go
Wind yourself around and grab ahold and ride down
You gotta get down down
You gotta get down down
Feel the rythem driving, everybody's thriving
You gotta get down down
You gotta get down down
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
You gotta get down down
(Getting busy)
(Cannot stop from calling the groove)
Would I like baggy jeans got the hip hop style
Come and slick my embrace take my number down
Well it's for fun I know it turns you on
Wanna bump and grind with me
Pull it out of the bag, yeah yeah
Wind yourself around and grab ahold and ride down
You gotta get down down (down down)

[...] Read more

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The Journey (feat. Lateef)

That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days.
I can't stay home, I gotta keep movin,
I gotta keep doin', I gotta get out,
I gotta roam, it's somethin' that moves me,
It's somethin' that uses me without a doubt,
'cause somewhere abstract coincidence happens,
see someone in passin' while out and about,
next thing I know I'm happily travelin',
puttin' in action ideas that I mouth,
cause I speak it and do it, talk it and walk it,
I'm so bad about it, I shout it out loud,
but try to stay open, the forces in motion,
They keep me on course, it's just clear that i've found (?),
Imprissoned in flesh and reality's blesses,
that made manifest every woman and child,
I'll keep on expressin' reality's lessons,
explorin' my prison until I'm let out.
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
an' have me wonderin' all my days
That journey-a call me quick,
That journey-a call my name,
That journey-a call have it's way,
have me wonderin' all my days.
Travelin' East and West, on every known highway,
South to North carryin' that torch until I'm old and grey.
Well in the mean time inbetween I'm pushin' through this,
I said in the main time inbetween I'm on my duty.
Sometimes I get beat up, sometimes I'm the beater,
Sometimes man my feet hurt from walkin' so long,
Sometimes I'm defeated, sometimes I get cheated,
Sometimes I just need it, 'cause sometimes I'm wrong,
So the question's repeated, why even try?
When there's rocks in the road, pot-holes in the lawn,
The victory's sweeter when obstacles either,
Are side-stepped or crushed on the way to the door,
So I go on my own, have faith in the road,
I can share that control cause I'm never alone.
I hear the creator speak to me through wispers,
On winds the voices of friends and of foes,
I listen to omens, the things that he shows me,
Shows that he knows me and helps me along,

[...] Read more

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Busy

I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the old woman needs help
to find her way home.

I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the dove is too slow
to fly out of the way.

I am busy
you are busy
we are busy
but the children crossing the street
are too many.

I am busy
you are busy
we are busy....

I am busy
you are busy
we are...
busy.

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I Don't Want to Go

You know I don't love you,
But you made up in your mind I can not go!
And, you won't let me go.

You know I don't love you,
But you made up in your mind I can not go!
And, you won't let me go.

Oh-ooooh-oh
oh...ooooOOHH!
And...
I don't wanna go!

And I know you don't believe this, but...
You know I don't love you,
But you made up in your mind I can not go!
And, you won't let me go.

You know I don't love you,
But you made up in your mind I can not go!
And, you won't let me go.

Oh-ooooh-oh
oh...ooooOOHH!
And...
I don't wanna go!

Being here ain't easy.
And you won't let me go!
Your nose is just too busy.
And you won't let me go!
A busy body busy.
And you won't let me go!
I'd rather 'tip' and 'dizzy'
And, you won't let me go!

Oh-ooooh-oh
oh...ooooOOHH!
And...
I don't wanna go!

Oh-ooooh-oh
oh...ooooOOHH!
And...
I don't wanna go!

You know I don't love you,
But you made up in your mind I can not go!
And, you won't let me go.

[...] Read more

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Call The Law

Step, step 2 the mic, huh
Not yet
Step, step 2 the mic, huh
Step 2 the mic and taste the hype
Its manifested, this blessed gift, I had 2 bring it right
So let me dive right in
Where do I begin? hmm, well, let me...
Call the law (call the law), were gettin busy yall (were gettin busy yall)
Call the law (call the law), were gettin busy yall (were gettin busy yall)
Call the law (call the dogs), were gettin busy yall (were gettin busy yall)
Call the law (call the law), were gettin busy yall (were gettin busy yall)
(ho, ho, ho, ho!) (alright) {repeat}
(ooh) the law, they come around when everyones having a ball
And by the way, that reminds me of a party yall
North side minnie, twin cities, mid-summer on the scene
And my people get busy fryin up the bird (get the chicken, baby)
Word, whoever heard of a party bein ready without a money makin pot of spaghetti (ha ha ha)
Yeah, what u laughin at?
Im sellin liquor plus some plates at $7 a crack
Huh, and thats profitable
And 4 a sucker like u, thats a mouthful
Hmph, u better call the law cuz we gettin extreme
Pick it up p
Call the law (call the law), were gettin busy yall (were gettin busy yall) {x4}
(ho, ho, ho, ho!) (alright) {repeat}
Alright
Yeah
(man, I dont know what the hell yall sellin)
(fellas, yo, what u doin now? ) (what u doin tone? )
Boy, I aint turning down nothing, this is my place
U know what Im sayin?
Homeboy
Back 2 the scene, the basements packed
Buddy at the front door breakin backs
Thats security ensuring thee
The best possible time 4 u and me, yeah
The partys jumpin (ho, ho, ho)
Everybodys bumpin 2 rock creek park when (ho, ho, ho)
Bo and his girl got silly (whatd she do? )
Jumped up on my chandelier and got busy, yeah
He had 2 snatch the ho (what? )
We got geo in the background screamin, here we go, here we go!
Yeah, the tempos upbeat
Hollywood swingin at the end of the bar
He began singin, if I didnt care...
Yeah, u better call the law (call the law)
Were gettin busy yall (were gettin busy yall)
(ho, ho, ho, ho, here we go, here we go!) (alright) {repeat}
Yeah, thats alright
Give it 2 me, come on

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A Time To Feel Forlorn and Reconstruct What's Torn

There's a designated time in the universe for everything:

A time to limit, a time to expand.
A time to rise, time to lower and lend a hand.

A time to maintain, a time to abandon.
A time to develop, a time to rest at random.

A time to communicate, a time for silence.
A time to kiss your enemy, a time to concede wins.

A time to spite, a time to please.
A time for respite, a time to tease.

A time to process, a time to confess.
A time to do more. A time to do less.

A time to dominate. A time to captivate.
A time to plunge. A time to resurface straight.

A time to maximise. A time to minimise.
A time to diminish. A time to optimise.

A time to sacrifice. time to insist on rights.
A time to be selfish. A time to be concerned about plights.

A time to be big. A time to be small.
A time to care for a special one. A time to love all.

A time to add dimension. A time to simplify.
A time to advocate egalitarianism.
A time to exult.
A time to default.
A time to be accepting of imperfect humanism.

A time to enhance. A time to simplify.
A time to criticise. A time to dignify.

A time to produce. A time to use.
A time to relent. A time to refuse.

A time to demand. A time to give.
A time to die. a time to live.

A time to survive. A time to admit defeat.
A time to lie. A time to walk on your feet.

A time to compete. A time to not.
A time to remember. A time to concede you forgot.

[...] Read more

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Journey to Be

I think I'll journey out some day to wondrous lands afar,
Or even chart a journey to a distant blazing star.
But rest assured that when my journey begs to take its cue,
Always know that when I go, this journey takes you too.

We'll start our journey out from here by horse and cart of old,
The seaside docks - and journey pauses - where we shall behold
A noble schooner for the journey primed to launch as planned:
To sail with dolphins cross the seas then journey back on land.

And so our journey goes by foot to conquer mountains tall:
A chapter hence the journey reached, with scenes that should enthral.
But when we tire, let's rest our journey, stretched in fields of flowers,
And bathe atop the mountain from the journey - autumn showers!

Refreshed, our journey takes a turn - we'll venture back for home,
But first we'll let the journey take a tangent just to roam.
And in the winding route, this journey's bound to bide content,
But most of all take heed - let's make our journey life's event.

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009

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Book Seventh [Residence in London]

SIX changeful years have vanished since I first
Poured out (saluted by that quickening breeze
Which met me issuing from the City's walls)
A glad preamble to this Verse: I sang
Aloud, with fervour irresistible
Of short-lived transport, like a torrent bursting,
From a black thunder-cloud, down Scafell's side
To rush and disappear. But soon broke forth
(So willed the Muse) a less impetuous stream,
That flowed awhile with unabating strength,
Then stopped for years; not audible again
Before last primrose-time. Beloved Friend!
The assurance which then cheered some heavy thoughts
On thy departure to a foreign land
Has failed; too slowly moves the promised work.
Through the whole summer have I been at rest,
Partly from voluntary holiday,
And part through outward hindrance. But I heard,
After the hour of sunset yester-even,
Sitting within doors between light and dark,
A choir of redbreasts gathered somewhere near
My threshold,--minstrels from the distant woods
Sent in on Winter's service, to announce,
With preparation artful and benign,
That the rough lord had left the surly North
On his accustomed journey. The delight,
Due to this timely notice, unawares
Smote me, and, listening, I in whispers said,
'Ye heartsome Choristers, ye and I will be
Associates, and, unscared by blustering winds,
Will chant together.' Thereafter, as the shades
Of twilight deepened, going forth, I spied
A glow-worm underneath a dusky plume
Or canopy of yet unwithered fern,
Clear-shining, like a hermit's taper seen
Through a thick forest. Silence touched me here
No less than sound had done before; the child
Of Summer, lingering, shining, by herself,
The voiceless worm on the unfrequented hills,
Seemed sent on the same errand with the choir
Of Winter that had warbled at my door,
And the whole year breathed tenderness and love.

The last night's genial feeling overflowed
Upon this morning, and my favourite grove,
Tossing in sunshine its dark boughs aloft,
As if to make the strong wind visible,
Wakes in me agitations like its own,
A spirit friendly to the Poet's task,
Which we will now resume with lively hope,

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Hairdresser On Fire

Here is london, giddy of london
Is it home of the free -
Or what ?
Can you squeeze me
Into an empty page of your diary
And psychologically save me
Ive got faith in you
I sense the power
Within the fingers
Within an hour the power
Could totally destroy me
(or, it could save my life)
Oh, here is london
Home of the brash, outrageous and free
You are repressed
But youre remarkably dressed
Is it real ?
And youre always busy
Really busy
Busy, busy
Oh, hairdresser on fire
All around sloane square
And youre just so busy
Busy, busy
Busy scissors
Oh, hairdresser on fire
(only the other day)
Was a client, over-cautious
He made you nervous
And when he said
Im gonna sue you
Oh, I really felt for you ...mmm...
So can you squeeze me
Into an empty page of your diary;
And supernaturally change me ?
Change me, change
Oh, here in london
Home of the brash, outrageous and free
You are repressed
But youre remarkably dressed
Is it real ?
And youre always busy
Really busy
Busy clippers
Oh, hairdresser on fire
All around sloane square
And youre just too busy
To see me
Busy clippers
Oh, hairdresser on fire

[...] Read more

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Lifes A Journey

I say life’s a journey, because life’s something we have once and everything we do and say is something we can’t go back and change. So I look at life as a journey. That I have to live full out, with no regrets. I don’t have time to live in the past or think about all the bad things. Almost all human being takes life for granted, and I don’t want to be one of those people. So I promised my self to never ever live with regrets, so I try to do whatever my heart tells me. And I try to stand up for all my believes, and I can’t do that if I live in the past or with regrets. It’s a waist of time,
Because life’s a journey.

I usually say if you got a dream go for it, because giving up on a dream is like giving up on life and giving up on life is like sitting and asking god to die. I know it’s hard to go for your dream when people tell you, that you won’t make it. So I just tell my self, whenever I fall I get back up, because I won’t give up without a fight.
Because life’s a journey.

What you’ve got if you don’t have faith, I know it’s hard to hold on to, when we live in a world like this. But I always hold on to my faith and my hopes.
My believes is what often keeps me going,
Because life’s a journey.

Life is hard, we all know it isn’t fair but I say stop worrying about what you/we don’t have and appreciate what you/we have. Because whenever you/we have a bad day someone else has a worse day and in worse case someone might be dying,
Because life’s a journey.


This world need some love, I know it’s easier to hate than love but at least could we try to respect each other. We would get so much more out of this journey then, I really believe that. Maybe sometimes we should just start to think about our self’s than everybody else. Because if we keep hate on each other, we will soon see world war 3, and I don’t think any one wants that to happen. I wish we could all respect each other, black and white, blue and yellow, bigger and smaller. Because at the end of the day we all human being on a journey that can end any time. It’s sad but it’s true,
Because life’s a journey.

Life’s a journey till the day it ends and when it ends there is no looking back or taking back. We had our changes only doomsday will show us if we wasted our time on our journey or if we enjoyed the journey and appreciated what we had. When we are at the end of our journey that’s when we have to face death. Many people forget we have to die because they might be afraid, but I’m not because it’s a part of life.
Life’s a journey till it ends.

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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

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Busy Bodies

So you think that you have seen her
When youre lying in between her
And you tell me that you dont care
Busy bodies getting nowhere
Evrybodys getting meaner
Busy bodies
Caught in the concertina
You check her outline
Break her regulations
You watch her legs through several
Service stations
Busy bodies
Very busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere
Now youre ready for the merger
With the company youre part of
And you do the dirty business
With your latest sleeping partner
Youre becoming
Automatic
Busy bodies
Out playing with the traffic
You want attention
You try my patience
With the best intentions you are nothing but a nuisance
Busy bodies
Busy busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere, nowhere, nowhere
Now youve given your performance
Though the matinee was idle
And you find that a wave of her right hand
Could seem so tidal
Just a second
Satisfaction
Busy bodies
Temporarily out of action
You wash and brush up
You want to dress up
You want to kiss her
But shes busy with her makeup
Busy bodies
Very busy
Getting nowhere
Nowhere (x6)

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The Journey without shortcuts

The Journey traveled without shortcuts,
is a journey worth taking.
For there are no shortcuts,
to any place worth going.

The destination does not matter,
but the Journey to it does.
For at the destination,
you will not learn anything.

You will not accomplish much either.
On the Journey to it, however,
you learn many things,
and accomplish much.

On the Journey,
you learn. You learn that,
'We are not human beings on a spiritual journey,
but spiritual beings on a human journey.' (-my good friend Joe)

So travel hard,
and travel well.
Choose your companions wisely,
and leave everything behind.

Never look back,
always move forward.
For 'Yesterday is history,
and history is miles away.' (-Matthew West)

But never forget anything either,
learn all that you can,
and treasure the good times.
Then this Journey will be like no other.

This is the Journey,
of life.
Our life here on Earth,
so don't take shortcuts.

This Journey won't be easy,
but you have a guide.
The guide will never leave your side,
and he will carry you through the rough terrain.

He loves you more than you will ever know,
and he gave you this Journey,
so travel it while holding his hand.
You are not alone.

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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:

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The Four Seasons : Spring

Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! come,
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
O Hertford, fitted or to shine in courts
With unaffected grace, or walk the plain
With innocence and meditation join'd
In soft assemblage, listen to my song,
Which thy own Season paints; when Nature all
Is blooming and benevolent, like thee.
And see where surly Winter passes off,
Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts:
His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill,
The shatter'd forest, and the ravaged vale;
While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch,
Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost,
The mountains lift their green heads to the sky.
As yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd,
And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze,
Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets
Deform the day delightless: so that scarce
The bittern knows his time, with bill ingulf'd,
To shake the sounding marsh; or from the shore
The plovers when to scatter o'er the heath,
And sing their wild notes to the listening waste
At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun,
And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more
The expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold
But, full of life and vivifying soul,
Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads then thin,
Fleecy, and white, o'er all-surrounding heaven.
Forth fly the tepid airs: and unconfined,
Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays.
Joyous, the impatient husbandman perceives
Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers
Drives from their stalls, to where the well used plough
Lies in the furrow, loosen'd from the frost.
There, unrefusing, to the harness'd yoke
They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil,
Cheer'd by the simple song and soaring lark.
Meanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share
The master leans, removes the obstructing clay,
Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays the glebe
While through the neighbouring fields the sowe stalks,
With measured step, and liberal throws the grain
Into the faithful bosom of the ground;
The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene.
Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious Man
Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow!
Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend!

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Journey To The Centre Of Your Heart

Take me on a journey
On a journey to the centre of you heart
Let me make the journey
Wanna journey to the centre of your heart
I wanna go, I wanna go
Oh let me go, I wanna go
Baby wanna travel
Wanna travel cross the borders of your mind
Baby wanna travel
Wanna travel cross the borders of your mind
I wanna go, please let me go
I wanna go, please let me go
Take me on a journey
On a journey to the bottom of your soul
Take me on a journey
On a journey to the bottom of your soul
I wanna go, oh let me go
I wanna go, oh let me go
Baby wanna travel
Wanna travel cross the borders of your mind
Baby wanna travel
Wanna travel cross the borders of your mind
I wanna go, oh let me go
I wanna go, oh let me go
Take me on a journey
On a journey to the centre of your heart
Let me make the journey
Wanna journey to the centre of your heart
I wanna go, I wanna go
Oh let me go , I wanna go

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And then there were none

There were ten
Waiting by the road
Ready for a journey
Of an entire lifetime

The ten crossed the lake,
But the tenth was too scared
He left the others to their fates
And departed with some joy.

And then there were nine
Walking by the road,
Engrossed in the journey
Of an entire lifetime

The nine walked over a bridge
But the ninth saw a beauty
Pursued her, leaving the rest
And sealed his own fate

And then there were eight
Walking by the road,
Engrossed in the journey
Of an entire lifetime.

As they walked by the gorge,
The eighth saw a tree
Laden with fruits. Hunger
Consumed his life away

And then there were seven
Walking by the road,
Engrossed in the journey
Of an entire lifetime.

As they walked by the mountain
Cold consumed their hearts.
The seventh saw a route
To escape from the way.

And then there were six
Walking by the road,
Engrossed in the journey
Of an entire lifetime.

The trail went on and on
Never showed a sign of ending
The sixth lost all hope
And left the party, disgruntled.

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Life And Time

if life is a book, then time is pen--writing pages of life journey;
if life is a piece of white paper, then time is color--painting more colorful life journey;
if life is a long river, then time is surging waves--pushing forward of life journey;
if life is a tree, then time is pieces of green leaves--enriching life journey;
if life is a door, then time is just the key--opening new start of life journey;
if life is a cup of coffee, then time is a bag of condiments--flavoring into life journey;
if life is a scene of tv play, then time is nameless leading role in it--performing its own speical and unique life journey;
if life is a oil painting, then time is its palette--rendering life journey;
if life is a fast horse, then time is its running greenland--carrying load of life journey;
if life is a greenland, then time is spring rain--moisturing nutrition of life journey
...........

this is ur own life, a life which only belong to ur own, ur sepcial and unique one.......

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In an Almshouse

Oh the dear summer evening! How the air
is mellow with the delicate breath of flowers
and wafts of hay scent from the sunburnt swathes:
how the glad song of life comes everywhence,
from thousand harmless voices, from blithe birds
that twitter on incessant sweet good-nights,
from homeward bees that, through the clover tufts,
stray booming, pilfering treasures to the last,
from sleepless crickets clamouring in the grass.
to tell the world they're happy day and night,
from the persistent rooks in their high town,
from sheep in far off meadows: life, life, life,
it is the song they sing, and to my mind
the song is very happy, very good.
My God, I thank thee I have known this life,
although, I doubt not, dying I shall learn
how greater and how happier is death.

Oh beautiful and various earth of ours,
how good God made thee. Ah, I have lost much,
mine is a very grey and dim earth now,
but I can feel and hear and take in so
the joy of present beauty to my soul,
and then I see it there. O strange blurred mists,
that mean the sky to me, my twilight eyes
discern no more than you, but I see more;
I see this gold and glowing sunset spread,
and break the pale blue sky with flashing clouds,
I see the shadows soften on the hills,
and the green summits brighten one by one
and purple in the nightfall one by one.
Oh, seeing can be done without the eyes.

Are those St Mary's church-bells in the town?
How far sound spreads to-night! St Mary's bells,
chiming for evensong. I would the way
were not so over long for feeble limbs,
and that the pathway and the still canal
had not so like a glimmer in the dusk;
for I could gladly feel the peace of prayer
among the others in the quiet church,
with silent graves seen through the open door,
and rustling heard of slowly stirring leaves.
And then 'tis pleasant too to hear the rhythm
of scholars' English and of words in books:
'tis like the voice of some rare foreign tongue
familiar once and loved, that, howso heard,
takes the glad ear with sweetness of old wont.
Oh, there's no sermon now so trite and crude
but makes for me a sort of literature:

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