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Robin had always wanted to go solo, so when it happened I wasn't angry at all. I understood the situation. But Barry is so full of pride and couldn't understand why Robin had done it.

quote by Maurice Gibb
Added by Lucian Velea
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Going Solo

She left a message after the tone,
I hear it over and over on the answer phone.
No one can find her, address unknown.
She just decided to go out and make it alone.
Solo, solo,
My little child is going solo.
Solo, solo,
My little child is going solo.
I feel like crying, Im in a rage.
I cant understand why she just ran away.
What made it happen, guess well never know.
She just decided to go out and make it solo.
Solo, solo, solo, solo, solo.
We work like dogs all of our lives,
Like millions of other husbands and wives.
Sent her through college, didnt care what we spent.
Think of how we feel,
She didnt say, she didnt ask, she just went.
Solo, solo,
My little child, youre going solo.
Its like a pattern, its like a crime,
We see it happen time after time.
You raise your children, you watch them grow,
Then one day its good-bye, theyve decided theyre going solo.
Solo, solo, solo, solo, solo.
The toys are forgotten, now it appears,
Youve let them down after all of these years.
Sacrificed all, now theres nothing to show,
Ungrateful youth, decided youre going solo.
Solo, solo,
My little child, youre going solo.
Solo, solo,
Ungrateful youth, youre going solo.
The obligations, all of the ties,
Have got to be broken so you can survive.
Just because they gave you life, they cant stop if you grow,
Now they cant hold you back cause youre going solo

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sing It

SING IT
This is actually strictly dialogue between Barry and his grandfather, Joe, made circa 1951 or right around that time. They were at a "Record Your Own Voice" booth, and this is approximately how the conversation went.
JOE: All right! "A Happy Birthday", come on, go ahead, sing.
BARRY: What? What?
JOE: Sing. I have the words for you, sing it. Sing it. Sing to me! "A happy birthday to you"
BARRY: N-no, I can't! I have to go to the bathroom.
JOE: All right, go ahead, Barry, sing it, sing it! Sing it! Go ahead.
BARRY: When?
JOE: I said now. Go ahead, sing it. "Happy" Go ahead, come on. Come on, sing it! Come on, go ahead.
BARRY: How?
JOE: Like this, "Happy" Come on, go ahead. All right, my dear grandson, "A Happy Birthday". Barry's gonna sing to you a nice song. Go ahead, Barry, sing it! Go ahead, sing it! Come oncome on, Barry, sing it! Sing "A Happy Birthday". Barry, don't you want to sing it? Come on, Barry, sing itWell, I'm sorry, my dear grandson, Barry, don't want to sing for you. OK, what do you want to sing? Do you want to sing a rhumba? All right, sing the rhumba. Go ahead, Barry, sing it! Go ahead, Barry, sing it! Go ahead, Barry. Come on, sing it. Come on, Barry! You gotta talk to make a record. Don't you want to make a record? Don't you want to make a record? You want to make a record, Barry? Huh? Go ahead!

song performed by Barry Manilow
Added by Lucian Velea
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Robin Hood And Guy Of Gisborne

When shawes been sheene, and shradds full fayre,
And leeves both large and longe,
Itt is merry, walking in the fayre forrest,
To heare the small birds songe.

The woodweele sang, and wold not cease,
Amongst the leaves a lyne:
And it is by two wight yeomen,
By deare God, that I meane.

'Me thought they did mee beate and binde,
And tooke my bow mee froe;
If I bee Robin a-live in this lande,
I'le be wrocken on both them towe.'

Sweavens are swift, master,' quoth John,
'As the wind that blowes ore a hill;
For if itt be never soe lowde this night,
To-morrow it may be still.'

'Buske yee, bowne yee, my merry men all,
For John shall goe with mee:
For I'le goe seek yond wight yeomen
In greenwood where the bee.'
^ TOP

The cast on their gowne of greene,
A shooting gone are they,
Untill they came to the merry greenwood,
Where they had gladdest bee;

There were the ware of a wight yeoman,
His body leaned to a tree.

A sword and a dagger he wore by his side,
Had beene many a man bane,
And he was cladd in his capull-hyde,
Topp, and tayle, and mayne.

'Stand you still, master,' quoth Litle John,
'Under this trusty tree,
And I will goe to yong wight yeomen,
To know his meaning trulye.'

'A, John, by me thou setts noe store,
And that's a farley thinge;
How offt send I my men beffore,
And tarry my-selfe behinde?

It is noe cunning a knave to ken,

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Robin Hood And The Butcher

Come, all you brave gallants, and listen awhile,
With hey down, down, an a down,
That are in the bowers within;
For of Robin Hood, that archer good,
A song I intend for to sing.

Upon a time it chanced so,
Bold Robin in forrest did 'spy
A jolly butcher, with a bonny fine mare,
With his flesh to the market did hye.

'Good morrow, good fellow,' said jolly Robin,
'What food hast [thou]? tell unto me;
Thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell,
For I like well thy company.'

The butcher he answer'd jolly Robin,
'No matter where I dwell;
For a butcher I am, and to Nottingham
I am going, my flesh to sell.'

'What's [the] price of thy flesh?' said jolly Robin,
'Come, tell it soon unto me;
And the price of thy mare, be she never so dear,
For a butcher fain would I be.'

'The price of my flesh,' the butcher repli'd,
'I soon will tell unto thee;
With my bonny mare, and they are not too dear,
Four mark thou must give unto me.'

'Four mark I will give thee,' saith jolly Robin,
'Four mark it shall be thy fee;
The mony come count, and let me mount,
For a butcher I fain would be.'

Now Robin he is to Nottingham gone,
His butchers trade to begin;
With good intent to the sheriff he went,
And there he took up his inn.

When other butchers did open their meat,
Bold Robin he then begun;
But how for to sell he knew not well,
For a butcher he was but young.

When other butchers no meat could sell,
Robin got both gold and fee;
For he sold more meat for one peny
Then others could do for three.

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Lang
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Robin Hood's Flight

Robin Hood's mother, these twelve years now,
Has been gone from her earthly home;
And Robin has paid, he scarce knew how,
A sum for a noble tomb.

The church-yard lies on a woody hill,
But open to sun and air:
It seems as if the heaven still
Were looking and smiling there.

Often when Robin looked that way,
He looked through a sweet thin tear;
But he looked in a different manner, they say,
Towards the Abbey of Vere.

He cared not for its ill-got wealth,
He felt not for his pride;
He had youth, and strength, and health,
And enough for one beside.

But he thought of his gentle mother's cheek
How it sunk away,
And how she used to grow more weak
And weary every day;

And how, when trying a hymn, her voice
At evening would expire,
How unlike it was the arrogant noise
Of the hard throats in the quire:

And Robin thought too of the poor,
How they toiled without their share,
And how the alms at the abbey-door
But kept them as they were:

And he thought him then of the friars again,
Who rode jingling up and down
With their trappings and things as fine as the king's,
Though they wore but a shaven crown.

And then bold Robin he thought of the king,
How he got all his forests and deer,
And how he made the hungry swing
If they killed but one in a year.

And thinking thus, as Robin stood,
Digging his bow in the ground,
He was aware in Gamelyn Wood,
Of one who looked around.

[...] Read more

poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
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Something Happened

Something happened
I just don't understand
Something happened
It's making me feel mad
Something happened, you don't hear about
Oh, please that never did before
Something happened
I just don't understand
Something happened
I just don't understand
Something happened
It's making me feel mad, oh
I never saw this on TV
I never read it in no book
ahh
Something happened
I just don't understand
hey, baby, something happened
I just don't understand
something happened
I just don't understand
something happened
I just don't understand
something happened
I just don't understand
something happened
Something happened
I just don't understand
Something happened
It's making me feel mad
I thought I knew a lot of things
but I don't know a thing, oh, oh, oh
Something happened
I just don't understand
The things I hear and see
don't seem the same
The things I touch and feel
are forever changed
I've never felt this way before
and I hope I never do again
Something happened
I don't know why or when
oh, something happened
I just don't understand
something happened
I just don't understand
Doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo
something happened
Doo, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo
something happened

[...] Read more

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Robin Hood and the Prince of Aragon

NOW Robin Hood, Will Scadlock and Little John
Are walking over the plain,
With a good fat buck which Will Scadlock
With his strong bow had slain.

`Jog on, jog on,' cries Robin Hood,
`The day it runs full fast;
For though my nephew me a breakfast gave,
I have not yet broke my fast.

`Then to yonder lodge let us take our way,
I think it wondrous good,
Where my nephew by my bold yeomen
Shall be welcomd unto the green wood.'

With that he took the bugle-horn,
Full well he could it blow;
Streight from the woods came marching down
One hundred tall fellows and mo.

`Stand, stand to your arms!' crys Will Scadlock,
`Lo! the enemies are within ken:'
With that Robin Hood he laughd aloud,
Crys, They are my bold yeomen.

Who, when they arriv'd and Robin espy'd,
Cry'd, Master, what is your will?
We thought you had in danger been,
Your horn did sound so shrill.

`Now nay, now nay,' quoth Robin Hood,
`The danger is past and gone;
I would have you to welcome my nephew here,
That hath paid me two for one.'

In feasting and sporting they passed the day,
Till Phoebus sunk into the deep;
Then each one to his quarters hy'd,
His guard there for to keep.

Long had they not walked within the green wood,
But Robin he was espy'd
Of a beautiful damsel all alone,
That on a black palfrey did ride.

Her riding-suit was of sable hew black,
Sypress over her face,
Through which her rose-like cheeks did blush,
All with a comely grace.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Go Solo

Music and lyrics: hall
You need to make it on your own
You wanna shake it go it alone
Whatever happened?
I did alright by you
I can feel the passion girl
Its still as strong
Though the places have turned around
Oh I can be the one to wait
You take the easy way out
Im no one to doubt
(if that aint enough)
Aint enough for you
Go solo
(you can take the lead)
Play a brand new part
Go solo, solo
You say theres trouble in paradise
Im only joking but you better be right
Oh, whatever happens, there aint no turnin round
I can understand you need to find yourself
Make a way without any help
Oh I can be the one who waits
To take the only way out
Im no one to doubt
(if that aint enough)
Aint enough for you
Go solo
(you can take the lead)
Play a brand new part
Go solo, solo
I dont mind your flying blind
Just shake it up and take it to the break this time
Shake it up and take it to the break this time
This time, oh
Shake it up and take it, shake it up and take it girl
(if that aint enough)
Aint enough for you
Go solo, go solo
(you can take the lead)
Play a brand new part
Go solo
I could do good somehow
(if it aint enough)
Aint enough for you
Go solo, oh girl
(you can take the lead)
Play a brand new part
Go solo
Oh, shake it up and take it, shake it up and take it

[...] Read more

song performed by Hall & Oates
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Parish Register - Part III: Burials

THERE was, 'tis said, and I believe, a time
When humble Christians died with views sublime;
When all were ready for their faith to bleed,
But few to write or wrangle for their creed;
When lively Faith upheld the sinking heart,
And friends, assured to meet, prepared to part;
When Love felt hope, when Sorrow grew serene,
And all was comfort in the death-bed scene.
Alas! when now the gloomy king they wait,
'Tis weakness yielding to resistless fate;
Like wretched men upon the ocean cast,
They labour hard and struggle to the last;
'Hope against hope,' and wildly gaze around
In search of help that never shall be found:
Nor, till the last strong billow stops the breath,
Will they believe them in the jaws of Death!
When these my Records I reflecting read,
And find what ills these numerous births succeed;
What powerful griefs these nuptial ties attend;
With what regret these painful journeys end;
When from the cradle to the grave I look,
Mine I conceive a melancholy book.
Where now is perfect resignation seen?
Alas! it is not on the village-green: -
I've seldom known, though I have often read,
Of happy peasants on their dying-bed;
Whose looks proclaimed that sunshine of the breast,
That more than hope, that Heaven itself express'd.
What I behold are feverish fits of strife,
'Twixt fears of dying and desire of life:
Those earthly hopes, that to the last endure;
Those fears, that hopes superior fail to cure;
At best a sad submission to the doom,
Which, turning from the danger, lets it come.
Sick lies the man, bewilder'd, lost, afraid,
His spirits vanquish'd, and his strength decay'd;
No hope the friend, the nurse, the doctor lend -
'Call then a priest, and fit him for his end.'
A priest is call'd; 'tis now, alas! too late,
Death enters with him at the cottage-gate;
Or time allow'd--he goes, assured to find
The self-commending, all-confiding mind;
And sighs to hear, what we may justly call
Death's common-place, the train of thought in all.
'True I'm a sinner,' feebly he begins,
'But trust in Mercy to forgive my sins:'
(Such cool confession no past crimes excite!
Such claim on Mercy seems the sinner's right!)
'I know mankind are frail, that God is just,
And pardons those who in his Mercy trust;

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Nag

Waltzing down street Mulberry
Barry and his noble steed saw Cherry
A pretty butterfly with blueberry
He took out his heartberry
And saved her face as sweet cherry
Cheery Barry danced in Mulberry
Love had come to maul Barry
Sweep him off his feet, his eyes stary
His hers, will you marry me?
Cherry married Barry in festivity
And made him merry in longevity
Time had come with activity
And left love lame in passivity
Less witty, less sweety, just Cherry
In poverty, lack of love and serenity
The time had come to maul Barry
Barreling him down with quarreling
And worrying and murmuring
Barry had in time learned to drown her voice with:
A crumbling rumble in a tumbling world
Round and round it rolls without a sound
A troubling trouble in a mumbling heart
A flickering flicker of a trembling light
An increasing bicker in a bickering fight
A murmuring murmur of a frightened heart
A flickering light in a tunnelling dark
A dimming light of my only love...
Barry, Barry, she bagged and tagged
Each flaw brought under her microscope
Always right, ask her horoscope
Chasing him out with a fumbling thud
Bringing him back with sorrying
And lash batting and warm hugging
And telling him change had come
To set her free and waking him up
To pineapple upside down cake
And kissing him but in the wake
Of reality, Barry had strolled to Mulberry
And saw cherry, not Cherry, just a butterfly
That did not make him cry
But made him fly and made him smile
And brought to him the peace he missed
The love he kissed when at first he met Cherry
Memory played just the way she hissed
When he pissed her off the cliff
The cliff oh the cliff, their love
It had jumped down the cliff and down below
Whatever made them stay
Was blown away the day that Barry
Made a way, looked her way

[...] Read more

poem by Jenim Dibie
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Siamo Solo Noi

Siamo solo noi
che andiamo a letto la mattina presto
e ci svegliamo con il mal di testa
siamo solo noi
che non abbiamo vita regolare
che non ci sappiamo limitare
siamo solo noi
che non abbiamo pi rispetto per niente
neanche per la mente
siamo solo noi
quelli che poi muoiono presto
quelli che per lo stesso.
Siamo solo noi
che non abbiamo pi niente da dire
dobbiamo solo vomitare
siamo solo noi
che non vi stiamo neanche pi ad
ascoltare.
Siamo solo noi
quelli che non han pi rispetto per niente
neanche per la gente
siamo solo noi
quelli che ormai non credono pi a niente
e vi fregano sempre.
Siamo solo noi
che tra demonio e santit lo stesso
basta che ci sia posto
siamo solo noi
che facciamo colazione anche con un toast del resto.
Siamo solo noi
quelli che non han voglia di far niente
rubano solamente
siamo solo noi
generazione di sconvolti
che non han pi santi n eroi
siamo solo noi
siamo solo noi
siamo solo noi...

song performed by Vasco Rossi
Added by Lucian Velea
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Robin Hood, A Child.

It was the pleasant season yet,
When the stones at cottage doors
Dry quickly, while the roads are wet,
After the silver showers.

The green leaves they looked greener still,
And the thrush, renewing his tune,
Shook a loud note from his gladsome bill
Into the bright blue noon.

Robin Hood's mother looked out, and said
"It were a shame and a sin
For fear of getting a wet head
To keep such a day within,
Nor welcome up from his sick bed
Your uncle Gamelyn."

And Robin leaped, and thought so too;
And so he has grasped her gown,
And now looking back, they have lost the view
Of merry sweet Locksley town.

Robin was a gentle boy,
And therewithal as bold;
To say he was his mother's joy,
It were a phrase too cold.

His hair upon his thoughtful brow
Came smoothly clipped, and sleek,
But ran into a curl somehow
Beside his merrier cheek.

Great love to him his uncle too
The noble Gamelyn bare,
And often said, as his mother knew,
That he should be his heir.

Gamelyn's eyes, now getting dim,
Would twinkle at his sight,
And his ruddy wrinkles laugh at him
Between his locks so white:

For Robin already let him see
He should beat his playmates all
At wrestling, running, and archery,
Yet he cared not for a fall.

Merriest he was of merry boys,
And would set the old helmets bobbing;
If his uncle asked about the noise,

[...] Read more

poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
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No Me Dejes De Querer

Nunca quiero ni pensar
que tus ojos me dejen de ver
no encontraras amor
que como yo te sea siempre fiel
(jrame) que me ver siempre en tus ojos
(bsame) con tus labios dulces
(sabor a miel) que a tu lado solo queiro estar
(y no hay quien) me llene de tanta ternura
(con tu amor) puedo llegar hasta la luna
(escchame) no me dejes de quereeeeeeeer
coro:
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
Que solo solo solo yo vivo por tu querer
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
que triste triste me pongo cuando no estas a mi lado en la noche
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
solo vivo por tu amor, me hace falta tu querer
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
que no no me dejes de querer, no me dejes de querer
(jrame) que me ver siempre en tus ojos
(bsame) con tus labios dulces
(sabor a miel) que a tu lado solo queiro estar
(y no hay quien) me llene de tanta ternura
(con tu amor) yo puedo llegar hasta la luna
(escchame) no me dejes de querer
coro:
solo te pido
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
que no me dejes, no me dejes, no me dejes de querer
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
que tu sabes que yo vivo por tu piel
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
que cuando toy pensando enti mira me siento muy feliz
solo te pido no me dejes de querer
ay no me dejes (de querer)

song performed by Gloria Estefan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Robin and Makyne

ROBIN sat on gude green hill,
   Kepand a flock of fe:
Mirry Makyne said him till
   'Robin, thou rew on me:
I haif thee luvit, loud and still,
   Thir yeiris twa or thre;
My dule in dern bot gif thou dill,
   Doutless but dreid I de.'

Robin answerit 'By the Rude
   Na thing of luve I knaw,
But keipis my scheip undir yon wud:
   Lo, quhair they raik on raw.
Quhat has marrit thee in thy mude,
   Makyne, to me thou shaw;
Or quhat is luve, or to be lude?
   Fain wad I leir that law.'

'At luvis lair gif thou will leir
   Tak thair ane A B C;
Be heynd, courtass, and fair of feir,
   Wyse, hardy, and free:
So that no danger do thee deir
   Quhat dule in dern thou dre;
Preiss thee with pain at all poweir
   Be patient and previe.'

Robin answerit hir agane,
   'I wat nocht quhat is lufe;
But I haif mervel in certaine
   Quhat makis thee this wanrufe:
The weddir is fair, and I am fain;
   My scheip gois haill aboif;
And we wald prey us in this plane,
   They wald us baith reproif.'

'Robin, tak tent unto my tale,
   And wirk all as I reid,
And thou sall haif my heart all haill,
   Eik and my maiden-heid:
Sen God sendis bute for baill,
   And for murnyng remeid,
In dern with thee bot gif I daill
   Dowtles I am bot deid.'

'Makyne, to-morn this ilka tyde
   And ye will meit me heir,
Peraventure my scheip may gang besyde,
   Quhyle we haif liggit full neir;
But mawgre haif I, and I byde,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Henryson
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Whose Country Is This?

Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !

[...] Read more

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Robin Hood

Now here’s the tale of a Derbyshire boy by the name of Robin Dean
who was born near to Buxton where the hills are so green.
His parents struggled to find enough food to feed their family,
so Robin and his brothers stole food regularly.

The gaunt looking Robin was caught stealing at the age of ten
and was sentenced to a life of servitude in the Hall at Elvasten.
He scrubbed floors, washed pots and pans, and cleaned cutlery,
but he dreamed of becoming the Earl’s Master of Archery.

At the age of twelve years he had to learn the ways of the land
and the gamekeeper made sure he was a reliable hand.
Before long he became a maker of longbows and arrows
he then as an archer won prizes at county shows.

King Richard asked his noblemen for men to fight the crusades,
he wanted the best archers and those who could swing blades.
Robin Dean was equipped and sent to fight the Lion Heart’s cause
he became honoured in battle, and won the King’s applause.

Time and time again he produced his archery long-range skills
and was knighted Sir Robin Dean of the Derbyshire Hills.
The King gave him land on the Derbyshire and Nottingham border
to provide a suitable income for a knight of the highest order.

After seven hard years of fighting, the crusades were not going well
King Richard had been captured and imprisoned in a cell.
He was put up for ransom and the cost was highest ever asked,
so the soldiers returned to England to raise gold by the cask.

A storm in the English Channel forced the ship Robin Dean was on
to sail up the coast and dock in the port of Lincoln’s Boston.
He travelled across the county to the land which belonged to him,
but in Nottingham he entered and gained an Archery Tournament win.

This caused eyebrows to be raised throughout the tournament day,
the Nobles didn’t like a stranger taking their prize money away.
Sir Robin Dean the archer, became well known from there on
and he was offered a place to stay at the Castle in Donington.

At supper the Baron asked many questions about the life of his guest,
but Robin said little, which left the Baron to guess.
They eventually said goodnight and went to their bedrooms to retire
and before the sun rose, Robin had left for his estate in Derbyshire.

Sir Robin’s estate bordered into a part of the huge Sherwood Forest
where he was held by robbers demanding the purse from his vest.
Though outnumbered he drew his sword and put up a courageous fight,
but they over powered him, and took him to their forest camp site.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
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Every Christian Lion Hearted Man Will Show You

Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique

Take this in hand
Said he who stands
Behind the chair
A broken table there

Every Christian lion hearted man will show you
Every Christian lion hearted man will show you

Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique

Don't walk so tall
Before you crawl
For every child
Is thinking of something wild

Every Christian lion hearted man will show you
Every Christian lion hearted man will show you

Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique

Every Christian lion hearted man will show you
Every Christian lion hearted man will show you (will show you)

Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique
Oh solo Dominique

song performed by Bee Gees from Bee Gees 1st
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Rosciad

Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.

Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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Madge: Ye Hoyden

At Madge, ye hoyden, gossips scofft,
Ffor that a romping wench was shee--
"Now marke this rede," they bade her oft,
"Forsooken sholde your folly bee!"
But Madge, ye hoyden, laught & cried,
"Oho, oho," in girlish glee,
And noe thing mo replied.

II

No griffe she had nor knew no care,
But gayly rompit all daies long,
And, like ye brooke that everywhere
Goes jinking with a gladsome song,
Shee danct and songe from morn till night,--
Her gentil harte did know no wrong,
Nor did she none despight.

III

Sir Tomas from his noblesse halle
Did trend his path a somer's daye,
And to ye hoyden he did call
And these ffull evill words did say:
"O wolde you weare a silken gown
And binde your haire with ribands gay?
Then come with me to town!"

IV

But Madge, ye hoyden, shoke her head,--
"I'le be no lemman unto thee
For all your golde and gownes," shee said,
"ffor Robin hath bespoken mee."
Then ben Sir Tomas sore despight,
And back unto his hall went hee
With face as ashen white.

V

"O Robin, wilt thou wed this girl,
Whenas she is so vaine a sprite?"
So spak ffull many an envious churle
Unto that curteyse countrie wight.
But Robin did not pay no heede;
And they ben wed a somer night
& danct upon ye meade.

VI

[...] Read more

poem by Eugene Field
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To You

Well if the same thing happened to you
Would you still put me through what you put me through?
If it happened to you. what if it happened to you?
What if it happened a man kept shaking you down
But you cant get a ride to his side of town?
If it happened to you. what if it happened to you?
What if happened to you? keep it out of my shoes.
And if youre stepping on toes, keep it outta my nose.
cos if the same thing happened to me
Well, it wont be as bad as it used to be.
If it happened toyou. what if it happened to you?
What if it happened to you?
What if it happened to you?
What if it happened to you, too?
What if it happens to you?
What if it happens to you?
What if happens to you? keep it out of my shoes.
And if youre stepping on toes, keep it outta my nose.
cos if the same thing happened to me
Well, it wont be as bad as it used to be.
If it happened to you. what if it happened to you?
What if it happened to you?
What am I going to do?
What if it happened to you?
Well, what if happened to you?
* repeat until fade: what if happened to you?

song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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