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Especially with the signing of riders with climbing abilities and the new arrival of Tyler Hamilton, who has the strength and ability to become a great leader for the big tours. All in all, I feel this is a very complete team.

quote by Laurent Jalabert
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Soccer Under 20

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Wat Tyler - Act I

ACT I.

SCENE, A BLACKSMITH'S-SHOP

Wat Tyler at work within. A May-pole
before the Door.

ALICE, PIERS, &c.

SONG.

CHEERFUL on this holiday,
Welcome we the merry May.

On ev'ry sunny hillock spread,
The pale primrose rears her head;
Rich with sweets the western gale
Sweeps along the cowslip'd dale.
Every bank with violets gay,
Smiles to welcome in the May.

The linnet from the budding grove,
Chirps her vernal song of love.
The copse resounds the throstle's notes,
On each wild gale sweet music floats;
And melody from every spray,
Welcomes in the merry May.

Cheerful on this holiday,
Welcome we the merry May.

[Dance.

During the Dance, Tyler lays down his
Hammer, and sits mournfully down before
his Door.

[To him.

HOB CARTER.

Why so sad, neighbour?—do not these gay sports,
This revelry of youth, recall the days
When we too mingled in the revelry;
And lightly tripping in the morris dance
Welcomed the merry month?

TYLER.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Southey
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On the Way

(PHILADELPHIA, 1794)

NOTE.—The following imaginary dialogue between Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr, which is not based upon any specific incident in American history, may be supposed to have occurred a few months previous to Hamilton’s retirement from Washington’s Cabinet in 1795 and a few years before the political ingenuities of Burr—who has been characterized, without much exaggeration, as the inventor of American politics—began to be conspicuously formidable to the Federalists. These activities on the part of Burr resulted, as the reader will remember, in the Burr-Jefferson tie for the Presidency in 1800, and finally in the Burr-Hamilton duel at Weehawken in 1804.

BURR

Hamilton, if he rides you down, remember
That I was here to speak, and so to save
Your fabric from catastrophe. That’s good;
For I perceive that you observe him also.
A President, a-riding of his horse,
May dust a General and be forgiven;
But why be dusted—when we’re all alike,
All equal, and all happy? Here he comes—
And there he goes. And we, by your new patent,
Would seem to be two kings here by the wayside,
With our two hats off to his Excellency.
Why not his Majesty, and done with it?
Forgive me if I shook your meditation,
But you that weld our credit should have eyes
To see what’s coming. Bury me first if I do.

HAMILTON

There’s always in some pocket of your brain
A care for me; wherefore my gratitude
For your attention is commensurate
With your concern. Yes, Burr, we are two kings;
We are as royal as two ditch-diggers;
But owe me not your sceptre. These are the days
When first a few seem all; but if we live
We may again be seen to be the few
That we have always been. These are the days
When men forget the stars, and are forgotten.

BURR

But why forget them? They’re the same that winked
Upon the world when Alcibiades
Cut off his dog’s tail to induce distinction.
There are dogs yet, and Alcibiades
Is not forgotten.

HAMILTON

Yes, there are dogs enough,
God knows; and I can hear them in my dreams.

BURR

[...] Read more

poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson
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Wat Tyler - Act II

ACT II.

SCENE— BLACKHEATH.

TYLER, HOB, &c.

SONG.

' When Adam delv'd, and Eve span,
' Who was then the gentleman?'

Wretched is the infant's lot,
Born within the straw-roof'd cot!
Be he generous, wise, or brave,
He must only be a slave.
Long, long labour, little rest,
Still to toil to be oppress'd;
Drain'd by taxes of his store,
Punish'd next for being poor;
This is the poor wretch's lot,
Born within the straw-roof'd cot.

While the peasant works— to sleep;
What the peasant sows— to reap;
On the couch of ease to lie,
Rioting in revelry;
Be he villain, be he fool,
Still to hold despotic rule,
Trampling on his slaves with scorn;
This is to be nobly born.

' When Adam delv'd, and Eve span,
' Who was then the gentleman?'

JACK STRAW.

The mob are up in London— the proud courtiers
Begin to tremble.

TOM MILLER.

Aye, aye, 'tis time to tremble;
Who'll plow their fields, who'll do their drudgery now?
And work like horses, to give them the harvest?

JACK STRAW.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Southey
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Using Boot Camp

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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The Queen's Marie

Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane,
Wi ribbons in her hair;
The king thought mair o Marie Hamilton,
Than ony that were there.

Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane,
Wi ribbons on her breast;
The king thought mair o Marie Hamilton,
Than he listend to the priest.

Marie Hamilton's to the kirk gane,
Wi gloves upon her hands;
The king thought mair o Marie Hamilton,
Than the queen and a' her lands.

She hadna been about the king's court
A month, but barely one,
Till she was beloved by a' the king's court,
And the king the only man.

She hadna been about the king's court
A month, but barely three,
Till frae the king's court Marie Hamilton,
Marie Hamilton durst na be.

The king is to the Abbey gane,
To pu the Abbey tree,
To scale the babe frae Marie's heart;
But the thing it wadna be.

O she has rowd it in her apron,
And set it on the sea:
'Gae sink ye, or swim ye, bonny babe,
Ye's get na mair o me.'

Word is to the kitchen gane,
And word is to the ha,
And word is to the noble room,
Amang the ladyes a',
That Marie Hamilton's brought to bed,
And the bonny babe's mist and awa.

Scarcely had she lain down again,
And scarcely faen asleep,
When up then started our gude queen,
Just at her bed-feet,
Saying 'Marie Hamilton, where's your babe?
For I am sure I heard it greet.'

'O no, O no, my noble queen!

[...] Read more

poem by Andrew Lang
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The Queen's Marie

MARIE HAMILTON 's to the kirk gane,
   Wi' ribbons in her hair;
The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton
   Than ony that were there.

Marie Hamilton 's to the kirk gane
   Wi' ribbons on her breast;
The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton
   Than he listen'd to the priest.

Marie Hamilton 's to the kirk gane,
   Wi' gloves upon her hands;
The King thought mair o' Marie Hamilton
   Than the Queen and a' her lands.

She hadna been about the King's court
   A month, but barely one,
Till she was beloved by a' the King's court
   And the King the only man.

She hadna been about the King's court
   A month, but barely three,
Till frae the King's court Marie Hamilton,
   Marie Hamilton durstna be.

The King is to the Abbey gane,
   To pu' the Abbey tree,
To scale the babe frae Marie's heart;
   But the thing it wadna be.

O she has row'd it in her apron,
   And set it on the sea--
'Gae sink ye or swim ye, bonny babe,
   Ye'se get nae mair o' me.'

Word is to the kitchen gane,
   And word is to the ha',
And word is to the noble room
   Amang the ladies a',
That Marie Hamilton 's brought to bed,
   And the bonny babe 's miss'd and awa'.

Scarcely had she lain down again,
   And scarcely fa'en asleep,
When up and started our gude Queen
   Just at her bed-feet;
Saying--'Marie Hamilton, where 's your babe?
   For I am sure I heard it greet.'

'O no, O no, my noble Queen!

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous
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Custer

BOOK FIRST.

I.

ALL valor died not on the plains of Troy.
Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine the joy
To sing of deeds as dauntless and as brave
As e'er lent luster to a warrior's grave.
Sing of that noble soldier, nobler man,
Dear to the heart of each American.
Sound forth his praise from sea to listening sea-
Greece her Achilles claimed, immortal Custer, we.

II.

Intrepid are earth's heroes now as when
The gods came down to measure strength with men.
Let danger threaten or let duty call,
And self surrenders to the needs of all;
Incurs vast perils, or, to save those dear,
Embraces death without one sigh or tear.
Life's martyrs still the endless drama play
Though no great Homer lives to chant their worth to-day.

III.

And if he chanted, who would list his songs,
So hurried now the world's gold-seeking throngs?
And yet shall silence mantle mighty deeds?
Awake, dear Muse, and sing though no ear heeds!
Extol the triumphs, and bemoan the end
Of that true hero, lover, son and friend
Whose faithful heart in his last choice was shown-
Death with the comrades dear, refusing flight alone.

IV.

He who was born for battle and for strife
Like some caged eagle frets in peaceful life;
So Custer fretted when detained afar
From scenes of stirring action and of war.
And as the captive eagle in delight,
When freedom offers, plumes himself for flight
And soars away to thunder clouds on high,
With palpitating wings and wild exultant cry,

V.

So lion-hearted Custer sprang to arms,
And gloried in the conflict's loud alarms.

[...] Read more

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Booker Washington Trilogy

I. A NEGRO SERMON:—SIMON LEGREE

(To be read in your own variety of negro dialect.)

Legree's big house was white and green.
His cotton-fields were the best to be seen.
He had strong horses and opulent cattle,
And bloodhounds bold, with chains that would rattle.
His garret was full of curious things:
Books of magic, bags of gold,
And rabbits' feet on long twine strings.
But he went down to the Devil.

Legree he sported a brass-buttoned coat,
A snake-skin necktie, a blood-red shirt.
Legree he had a beard like a goat,
And a thick hairy neck, and eyes like dirt.
His puffed-out cheeks were fish-belly white,
He had great long teeth, and an appetite.
He ate raw meat, 'most every meal,
And rolled his eyes till the cat would squeal.

His fist was an enormous size
To mash poor niggers that told him lies:
He was surely a witch-man in disguise.
But he went down to the Devil.

He wore hip-boots, and would wade all day
To capture his slaves that had fled away.
But he went down to the Devil.

He beat poor Uncle Tom to death
Who prayed for Legree with his last breath.
Then Uncle Tom to Eva flew,
To the high sanctoriums bright and new;
And Simon Legree stared up beneath,
And cracked his heels, and ground his teeth:
And went down to the Devil.

He crossed the yard in the storm and gloom;
He went into his grand front room.
He said, "I killed him, and I don't care."
He kicked a hound, he gave a swear;
He tightened his belt, he took a lamp,
Went down cellar to the webs and damp.
There in the middle of the mouldy floor
He heaved up a slab, he found a door —
And went down to the Devil.

[...] Read more

poem by Vachel Lindsay
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Les tours au bord de la mer

Veuves debout au long des mers,
Les tours de Lisweghe et de Furnes
Pleurent, aux vents des vieux hivers
Et des automnes taciturnes.

Elles règnent sur le pays,
Depuis quels jours, depuis quels âges,
Depuis quels temps évanouis
Avec les brumes de leurs plages ?

Jadis, on allumait des feux
Sur leur sommet, dans le soir sombre ;
Et le marin fixait ses yeux
Vers ce flambeau tendu par l'ombre.

Quand la guerre battait l'Escaut
De son tumulte militaire,
Les tours semblaient darder là-haut,
La rage en flamme de la terre.

Quand on tuait de ferme en bouge,
Pêle-mêle vieux et petits,
Les tours jetaient leurs gestes rouges
En suppliques, vers l'infini.

Depuis,
La guerre,
Au bruit roulant de ses tonnerres,
Crispe, sous d'autres cieux, son poing ensanglanté ;
Et d'autres blocs et d'autres phares,
Armés de grands yeux d'or et de cristaux bizarres,
Jettent, vers d'autres flots, de plus nettes clartés.

Mais vous êtes, quand même
Debout encor, au long des mers,
Debout, dans l'ombre et dans l'hiver,
Sans couronne, sans diadème,
Sans feux épars sur vos fronts lourds;
Et vous demeurez là, seules au vent nocturne,
Oh ! vous, les tours, les tours gigantesques, les tours
De Nieuport, de Lisweghe et de Furnes.

Sur les villes et les hameaux flamands,
Au-dessus des maisons vieilles et basses,
Vous carrez votre masse,
Tragiquement ;
Et ceux qui vont, au soir tombant, le long des grèves,
A voir votre grandeur et votre deuil,
Sentent toujours, comme un afflux d'orgueil,
Battre leur rêve :

[...] Read more

poem by Emile Verhaeren
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Riders To The Stars

MUSIC BY BARRY MANILOW
LYRICS BY ADRIENNE ANDERSON
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Christy wants a millionaire, a miracle in the rain
Everybody's lookin' to find their heaven, never come back again
People keep searchin' up and down
Joinin' in the latest thing
And I run around lookin' for love
Waitin' for bells to ring
Riders to the stars
We are flyin', we are fallin'
And I can see the clouds rollin' by
Riders to the stars
We are sailin', we are soarin'
And all we can do is try
We are riders to the stars
We are riders to the stars
Billy wants a fancy car, says it's just what he needs
Folks into showin', just what they're blowin'
Followin' foolish leads
And Christy wants to find her millionaire, her miracle in the rain
And I lift my head right up to the sun
Never look down again
Riders to the stars
We are flyin', we are fallin'
And I can see the clouds rollin' by
Riders to the stars
We are sailin', we are soarin'
And all we can do is try
We are riders to the stars
We are riders to the stars
Some folks have money, and others survive
God knows, it's not easy just bein' alive
The dreamer dreams on, and dreams never die
Long as we try, long as we try
Riders to the stars
We are flyin', we are fallin'
And I can see the clouds rollin' by
Riders to the stars
We are sailin', we are soarin'
And all we can do is try
We are riders to the stars
We are riders to the stars

song performed by Barry Manilow
Added by Lucian Velea
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Samson Agonistes (excerpts)

[Samson's Opening Speech]
A little onward lend thy guiding hand
To these dark steps, a little further on;
For yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade,
There I am wont to sit, when any chance
Relieves me from my task of servile toil,
Daily in the common prison else enjoin'd me,
Where I a prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw
The air imprison'd also, close and damp,
Unwholesome draught: but here I feel amends,
The breath of Heav'n fresh-blowing, pure and sweet,
With day-spring born; here leave me to respire.
This day a solemn feast the people hold
To Dagon, their sea-idol, and forbid
Laborious works; unwillingly this rest
Their superstition yields me; hence with leave
Retiring from the popular noise, I seek
This unfrequented place to find some ease;
Ease to the body some, none to the mind
From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm
Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone,
But rush upon me thronging, and present
Times past, what once I was, and what am now.
O wherefore was my birth from Heaven foretold
Twice by an angel, who at last in sight
Of both my parents all in flames ascended
From off the altar, where an off'ring burn'd,
As in a fiery column charioting
His godlike presence, and from some great act
Of benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race?
Why was my breeding order'd and prescrib'd
As of a person separate to God,
Design'd for great exploits; if I must die
Betray'd, captiv'd, and both my eyes put out,
Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze;
To grind in brazen fetters under task
With this Heav'n-gifted strength? O glorious strength
Put to the labour of a beast, debas'd
Lower than bondslave! Promise was that I
Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver;
Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him
Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves,
Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke.
Yet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt
Divine prediction; what if all foretold
Had been fulfill'd but through mine own default,
Whom have I to complain of but myself?
Who this high gift of strength committed to me,
In what part lodg'd, how easily bereft me,
Under the seal of silence could not keep,

[...] Read more

poem by John Milton
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Big Night

Oh, it's gonna be a big night
We're gonna have a good time
It's gonna be a big, big, big, big, big, big night

1,2,3, all my boys and girls
We gonna party like it's the end of the world
Let's get it started, started, started, whoa, oh

Waitin' on weekends it's Friday night
We gonna get dressed up
For the time of our lives
Let's get it started, started, started

'Cause I've been feelin' down, down, down
I need a pick me up, round, round, round
I wanna spin it up loud, loud, loud
DJ take me away

Oh
It's gonna be a big night
We're gonna have a good time
It's gonna be a big, big, big, big, big, big night

Oh
It's gonna be a big night
We gonna have a good time
It's gonna be a big, big, big, big, big, big night

It's been a long week
Been workin' overtime
I need a heartbeat
To get this party right

I'm on another level
Turn up the bass and treble
Turn it up, turn it up, turn it up

'Cause I've been feelin' down, down, down
I need a pick me up, round, round, round
I wanna spin it up loud, loud, loud
DJ take me away

Oh
It's gonna be a big night
We gonna have a good time
It's gonna be a big, big, big, big, big, big night

Oh
It's gonna be a big night
We gonna have a good time

[...] Read more

poem by Jojo Jonna
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Signing Off

Signing off
Signing off
Does it surprize you
I wont need your lips anymore
Signing off
Cant idolize you
My heart crossed your name off the door
Signing off
Now that Ive told you
That this is just where I came in
Signing off
Why should I hold you
Youve already said I cant win
Its strange how the rest of the world knows
The things you should see at a glance
And I want what all of the world knows
A person to person romance
Signing off
I cant pretend dear
My trip to the stars took a spill
Were all through
This is the ending
Because you only wanted a thrill
Im signing off
Ill always remember the pleasure
Of friendship and all that its worth
I know that its something to treasure
>from here to the ends of the earth
Signing off
Happy I met you
So please make me happy again
And be sure I wont forget you
The best of everything until then
Im signing off
Signing off
Transcribed by amber

song performed by Ella Fitzgerald
Added by Lucian Velea
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Http: //www.vietnamdeluxetravel.com/vietnam/tours

In this Vietnam Tours session, you can find out full information about all package tours in Vietnam. Vietnam Deluxe Travel operates a wide range of tour types as: Classic tours, Golfing packages, Honeymoon tours, stopover tours, Vietnam Adventure Tours, Cruises in Halong bay, Travel to Sapa by train, Vietnam Beach Vacationsand Culinary tours (tours with cooking learning) as well. You can compare many itineraries to all places of Vietnam to get your most prefered needs for traveling. Apart from that, we give a chance to design your ownVietnam tours in our tailor-made tours session. Join us and make your jurney now!

poem by Nhung Dinh Thi Hong
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Riders In The Storm

Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out of role
Riders on the storm
There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin' like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If ya give this man a ride
Sweet memory will die
Killer on the road, yeah
Girl ya gotta love your man
Girl ya gotta love your man
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The world on you depends
Our life will never end
Gotta love your man, yeah
Wow!
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out of role
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm

song performed by Doors
Added by Lucian Velea
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Riders On The Storm

Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house were born
Into this world were thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out on loan
Riders on the storm
Theres a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If ya give this man a ride
Sweet memory will die
Killer on the road, yeah
Girl ya gotta love your man
Girl ya gotta love your man
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The world on you depends
Our life will never end
Gotta love your man, yeah
Wow!
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house were born
Into this world were thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm

song performed by Doors
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tyler

Appeal to the governor of louisiana
You may get an answer the process is slow
Federal government too much to help him
It's been nearly five years
And they won't let him go
(chorus)
Tyler is guilty the white judge has said so
What right do we have to say it's not so
Tyler is guilty the white judge has said so
What right do we have to say it's not so
Testify under pressure, a racist jury
Government lawyers its all for show
With rows of white faces
False accusations
He's framed up for murder
They won't let him go
(chorus)
Tyler is guilty the white judge has said so
What right do we have to say it's not so
Tyler ..... etc
Police gun was planted
No matching bullets
No prints on the handle, no proof to show
But tyler is guilty the white judge has said so
They show him no mercy
They won't let him go
(chorus)
Tyler is guilty the white judge has said so
What right do we have to say it's not so
Tyler...... etc
Appeal to the governor of louisiana
You may get an answer the process is slow
Federal government too much to help him
It's been nearly five years
And they won't let him go
(chorus)
Tyler is guilty the white judge has said so
What right do we have to say it's not so
Tyler .... etc

song performed by Ub40
Added by Lucian Velea
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King Solomon And The Queen Of Sheba

(A Poem Game.)

“And when the Queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon, . . .
she came to prove him with hard questions.”

[The men’s leader rises as he sees the Queen unveiling
and approaching a position that gives her half of the stage.]

Men’s Leader: The Queen of Sheba came to see King Solomon.
[He bows three times.]
I was King Solomon,
I was King Solomon,
I was King Solomon.

[She bows three times.]
Women’s Leader: I was the Queen,
I was the Queen,
I was the Queen.

Both Leaders: We will be king and queen,
[They stand together stretching their hands over the land.]
Reigning on mountains green,
Happy and free
For ten thousand years.

[They stagger forward as though carrying a yoke together.]
Both Leaders: King Solomon he had four hundred oxen.

Congregation: We were the oxen.

[Here King and Queen pause at the footlights.]
Both Leaders: You shall feel goads no more.
[They walk backward, throwing off the yoke and rejoicing.]
Walk dreadful roads no more,
Free from your loads
For ten thousand years.

[The men’s leader goes forward, the women’s leader dances round him.]
Both Leaders: King Solomon he had four hundred sweethearts.

[Here he pauses at the footlights.]
Congregation: We were the sweethearts.

[He walks backward. Both clap their hands to the measure.]
Both Leaders: You shall dance round again,
You shall dance round again,
Cymbals shall sound again,
Cymbals shall sound again,
[The Queen appears to gather wildflowers.]

[...] Read more

poem by Vachel Lindsay
Added by Poetry Lover
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Picking Teachers For Their Leader

Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.

My steps cease to seek a quickened pace.
There is no wish for leaving.
I am told in my mind I should stay.
Soft voices dance within rainbowed light!
Sparkling to convince...
I should pray with faith.
And they would make my life right!

Picking teachers for their Leader.
For the One never shown.
The One who through scriptures...
Repeated to make appear,
But left still for them to go unknown.

Picking teachers for their Leader.
How they do it like it's done...
When they come,
Nobody knows.

Their picking teachers for their Leader.
They say He's number One.
Like none other like He,
Upon me with gifts bestowed!

Strangers!
Come before the darkness of night,
Crawls.
As twilight escorts the rising moon!
Strangers...
Known in dreams.
Whisper of their presence unseen.
But felt...
By a familiar comfort embraced.

Their picking teachers for their Leader.
As God demands.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
As God Commands.
Their picking teachers for their Leader.
And I understand...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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