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He obliged Cinderella to sit down, and, putting the slipper to her little foot, he found it went on very easily, and fitted her as if it had been made of wax.

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Cinderella

Written by j. kimball and d. vidal, 1984
Found on perspective.
I was out last night having a ball
And comin home, I wasnt thinkin nothin at all
And there on the sidewalk what did I see
A little glass slipper starin back at me
Cinderella (cinderella)
Well Im not superstitious but Im smarter than I seem
And I knew it was love, if you know what I mean
When I saw that slipper it occurred to me
The shoe fit her and she fit me
Cinderella (cinderella)
Cinderella (cinderella)
When I find her it will be
A fairy tale for her and me
I will never let her go
Cinderella
Now the other girls hold no fascination for me
I just think of her wherever she may be
I will search my whole life through
cause no one else will ever do
Cinderella (cinderella)
Cinderella (cinderella)
When I find her it will be
A fairy tale for her and me
I will never let her go
She will give my heart a home
Until that day Ill be alone
With just a slipper and a dream
Cinderella (cinderella)
Cinderella (cinderella)
Oo (cinderella)
Cinderella (cinderella)

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Cinderella

You always read about it:
the plumber with the twelve children
who wins the Irish Sweepstakes.
From toilets to riches.
That story.

Or the nursemaid,
some luscious sweet from Denmark
who captures the oldest son's heart.
from diapers to Dior.
That story.

Or a milkman who serves the wealthy,
eggs, cream, butter, yogurt, milk,
the white truck like an ambulance
who goes into real estate
and makes a pile.
From homogenized to martinis at lunch.

Or the charwoman
who is on the bus when it cracks up
and collects enough from the insurance.
From mops to Bonwit Teller.
That story.

Once
the wife of a rich man was on her deathbed
and she said to her daughter Cinderella:
Be devout. Be good. Then I will smile
down from heaven in the seam of a cloud.
The man took another wife who had
two daughters, pretty enough
but with hearts like blackjacks.
Cinderella was their maid.
She slept on the sooty hearth each night
and walked around looking like Al Jolson.
Her father brought presents home from town,
jewels and gowns for the other women
but the twig of a tree for Cinderella.
She planted that twig on her mother's grave
and it grew to a tree where a white dove sat.
Whenever she wished for anything the dove
would dropp it like an egg upon the ground.
The bird is important, my dears, so heed him.

Next came the ball, as you all know.
It was a marriage market.
The prince was looking for a wife.
All but Cinderella were preparing
and gussying up for the event.

[...] Read more

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Cinderella's Shoes

The ugly sister, Alice,
glared at the mirror with reflected malice;
gave a grin
and blew a bubble;
stroked the stubble
on her chin
and simpered, in unbridled bliss,
'What a charmer I iss! '
adding, with a grimace,
'Who's the prettier, glass face? '

'Cinderella!
Cinderella. Cinderella. Cinderella.
Cinderella. Cinderella.'
The mirror twinkled a little wintry.
'Cinderella. Cinderella....'

The tiny fragments of splintery
glass were swept up by footman Fred.
'What a wolatile woman! ' Fred said.
'A weally, wolatile woman! '

An officer guarded the small glass slipper,
passport to a prince and palace.
(But not for Alice.)

She queezed and pressed and sqealed and swore
and gave a most almighty roar.

More fragments of splintering glass
were swept up by footman Fred.
'What a woracious woman! ' Fred said.
'A most woracious woman! '

Cinderella slipped easily into the other shoe,
was whisked off in a guilded carriage
to a brave new world where her goodness drew
her, to liveried servants and a royal marriage!

And Alice?
She stumbled her bloody way
to a fate far worse than death.
To a tiny cell with walls of mirrors.
Unbreakable, bullet proof, everlasting glass!

(From Blondin & Other Poems)

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Tarantella for Cinderella - Parody Hilaire BELLOC - Tarantella

Do you remember the Ball, Cinderella, do you recall the Ball?
And the prancing, glancing, dancing
of blissed eyes Do you remember the Ball, Cinderella, do you recall the Ball?
And the prancing, glancing, dancing
of blissed eyes Chance kissed romancing;
and the breeeze teasing sneeze when I fell to my knees with a bawl,
winter freezing causing wheezing, seizing me just when advancing,
causing you to forestall!
shining goblets fine wine full, lining guzzling gullets, free for all,
the vicious suspicious looks of ambitious
matrons with delicious daughters on call!
supercallifragilisticexpialidocious withal!

Do you remember the Ball, Cinderella, do you recall the free-for-all brawl?
Then the clock that twelve struck when luck ran amuck
when the slipper slipped ‘mid many
that it didn’t fit, - not any, neither Terri, Tonie, Jenny, -
And the hammering on the doors and the din?
And the hip! hop! hap! of the clap
of the reins on the rump on the pump-
kin’s horses clancing, prancing, fading hooves distancing.
Waiting not, with forceful trot they went, with wings lent,
and tlic! tloc! knock echoed far...

Do you remember the Ball, Cinderella, do you recall the Ball?
Never more, Cinderella, what a bore! Only the fairy foresaw
the slipper left standing at the door. No trace! – none at all,
in the walls of the Hall where falls the face
of the Prince rincing eyes, for the foot-falls
echo like the boom of doom in an empty room
while the footman horsing around with the kitchen maid
made merry with the sherry on the fly which wasn't very
prim and proper till p'lice copper came and played
on his whistle calling order be obeyed
with his siren shrilling, silver badge displayed.

In this New Year now I'm chasing shadows everywhere retracing
Cinderella's steps my heart can't bear replacing,
pacing here and there and up and down unlacing
treasured slipper pleasure's promise acts as casing,
spacing out without her footloose pulse a-racing,
only pain remains it seems, vain dreams embracing...

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Miss Cinderella's forgotten shoe

Miss Cinderella
O Miss Cinderella!

I reckoned my dreams would materialize true
When I stared into those beautiful eyes of you
Miss Cinderella
O Miss Cinderella
Thou forgot to cast behind thy only begotten shoe

I stand here in line in thy awaited queue
You enlighten from the limousine
I’m waiting for that heavenly sign
Miss Cinderella
O Miss Cinderella
What has become of you?
Thou forgot to cast behind thy only begotten shoe

So many miles I flew
Yet you have no clue
Of how much we can chew
Without your shoe, there is no preview
Of the fairy tale we could pursue
Miss Cinderella
O Miss Cinderella
Can’t you see this love tattoo?
Thou forgot to cast behind thy only begotten shoe

And now you have left the venue
Thoughts of your forgotten shoe
I will cherish and value
So close, so near, almost there
Miss Cinderella
O Miss Cinderella
If only you could undo
And cast behind thy forgotten shoe
But thou forgot to cast behind thy only begotten shoe

So the prince is gone
Life goes on
But my love for you is not withdrawn!

Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi

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Oliver Goldsmith

Vida's Game Of Chess

TRANSLATED

ARMIES of box that sportively engage
And mimic real battles in their rage,
Pleased I recount; how, smit with glory's charms,
Two mighty Monarchs met in adverse arms,
Sable and white; assist me to explore,
Ye Serian Nymphs, what ne'er was sung before.
No path appears: yet resolute I stray
Where youth undaunted bids me force my way.
O'er rocks and cliffs while I the task pursue,
Guide me, ye Nymphs, with your unerring clue.
For you the rise of this diversion know,
You first were pleased in Italy to show
This studious sport; from Scacchis was its name,
The pleasing record of your Sister's fame.

When Jove through Ethiopia's parch'd extent
To grace the nuptials of old Ocean went,
Each god was there; and mirth and joy around
To shores remote diffused their happy sound.
Then when their hunger and their thirst no more
Claim'd their attention, and the feast was o'er;
Ocean with pastime to divert the thought,
Commands a painted table to be brought.
Sixty-four spaces fill the chequer'd square;
Eight in each rank eight equal limits share.
Alike their form, but different are their dyes,
They fade alternate, and alternate rise,
White after black; such various stains as those
The shelving backs of tortoises disclose.
Then to the gods that mute and wondering sate,
You see (says he) the field prepared for fate.
Here will the little armies please your sight,
With adverse colours hurrying to the fight:
On which so oft, with silent sweet surprise,
The Nymphs and Nereids used to feast their eyes,
And all the neighbours of the hoary deep,
When calm the sea, and winds were lull'd asleep
But see, the mimic heroes tread the board;
He said, and straightway from an urn he pour'd
The sculptured box, that neatly seem'd to ape
The graceful figure of a human shape:--
Equal the strength and number of each foe,
Sixteen appear'd like jet, sixteen like snow.
As their shape varies various is the name,
Different their posts, nor is their strength the same.
There might you see two Kings with equal pride
Gird on their arms, their Consorts by their side;
Here the Foot-warriors glowing after fame,

[...] Read more

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Microphone Fiend

Yo, I was a fiend before I became a teen
I melted microphone instead of cones of ice cream
Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated
Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated
Shot grabbed the mic and try to say, yes yall!
They tried to take it, and say that Im too small
Cool, cause I dont get upset
I kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, then I jet
Back to the lab ...without a mic to grab
So then I add all the rhymes I had
One after the another one, then I make another one
To dis the opposite then ask if the brothers done
I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine
But I dont need a cigarette, know what I mean?
Im raging, ripping up the stage and
Dont it sound amazing cause every rhyme is made and
Thought of, cuz its sort of...an addiction,
Magnatized by the mixing
E-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
E-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
But back to the problem, I gotta habit,
You cant solve it, you silly rabbit
The prescription is a hypertone thats thorough when
I fiend for a microphone like heroin
Soon as the bass kicks, I need a fix
Gimme a stage and a mic and a mix
And Ill put you in a mood or is it a state of
Unawareness? beware, its the reanamator!
A menace to a microphone, a lethal weapon
An assasinator, if the people aint stepping
You see a part of me that you never seen
When Im fiending for a microphone.
Cause I take it to the maximum, I cant relax see, im
Hype as a hyperchrondriac cause the rap be one
Hell of a antidote, something you cant smoke
More than dope, youre trying to move away but you cant, youre broke
More than cracked up, you should have backed up
For those who act up need to be more than smacked up
E-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.

[...] Read more

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Abused Cinderella

Cinderella was a nice gal
Always did what she was told
Put others before herself
Cinderella had lots of hopes and dreams
One day in the town she heard of the ball
CInderella wanted to go
Really really bad
Her step mom gave her touble
Her sisters were ok
But she never went
Beucase no one cared
Poor cinderella cried
Dreams really don't come true
Fairytales are fake
Cinderella never found her prince
She never really went to any ball
She lost all her hopes and dreams in life
Cinderella never got a granted wish
Poor cinderella
True love never found her
When she was old
Cinderella died an old maid
When Cinderella went to heaven
She was treated like a real princess
Angels planed a ball for her
And made her a pretty white gown
Jesus danced with her
Then he took her by the hand
And led her to her handsome chosen prince
It was all worth the shattered hopes
And dreams in life
To have a fairytale ending in heaven

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Seventh Book

'THE woman's motive? shall we daub ourselves
With finding roots for nettles? 'tis soft clay
And easily explored. She had the means,
The moneys, by the lady's liberal grace,
In trust for that Australian scheme and me,
Which so, that she might clutch with both her hands,
And chink to her naughty uses undisturbed,
She served me (after all it was not strange,;
'Twas only what my mother would have done)
A motherly, unmerciful, good turn.

'Well, after. There are nettles everywhere,
But smooth green grasses are more common still;
The blue of heaven is larger than the cloud;
A miller's wife at Clichy took me in
And spent her pity on me,–made me calm
And merely very reasonably sad.
She found me a servant's place in Paris where
I tried to take the cast-off life again,
And stood as quiet as a beaten ass
Who, having fallen through overloads, stands up
To let them charge him with another pack.

'A few months, so. My mistress, young and light,
Was easy with me, less for kindness than
Because she led, herself, an easy time
Betwixt her lover and her looking-glass,
Scarce knowing which way she was praised the most.
She felt so pretty and so pleased all day
She could not take the trouble to be cross,
But sometimes, as I stooped to tie her shoe,
Would tap me softly with her slender foot
Still restless with the last night's dancing in't,
And say 'Fie, pale-face! are you English girls
'All grave and silent? mass-book still, and Lent?
'And first-communion colours on your cheeks,
'Worn past the time for't? little fool, be gay!'
At which she vanished, like a fairy, through
A gap of silver laughter.
'Came an hour
When all went otherwise. She did not speak,
But clenched her brows, and clipped me with her eyes
As if a viper with a pair of tongs,
Too far for any touch, yet near enough
To view the writhing creature,–then at last,
'Stand still there, in the holy Virgin's name,
'Thou Marian; thou'rt no reputable girl,
'Although sufficient dull for twenty saints!
'I think thou mock'st me and my house,' she said;
'Confess thou'lt be a mother in a month,

[...] Read more

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Cat People

See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Colder than the moon
Feel my blood enraged
It's just the fear of losing you
Don't you know my name
Well, you been so long
And i've been putting out fire
With gasoline
See these eyes so red
Red like jungle burning bright
Those who feel me near
Pull the blinds and change their minds
It's been so long
Still this pulsing night
A plague i call a heartbeat
Just be still with me
But it wouldn't believe what i've been thru
You've been so long
Well it's been so long
And i've been putting out the fire with gasoline
Putting out the fire
With gasoline
See these tears so blue
An ageless heart that can never mend
Tears can never dry
A judgement made can never bend
See these eyes so green
I can stare for a thousand years
Just be still with me
You wouldn't believe what i've been thru
Well you've been so long
It's been so long
And i've been putting out fire with gasoline
Putting out fire with gasoline
Putting out fire
We've been putting out fire
Well it's been so long so long so long
Yes it's been so long so long so long
I've been putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
And putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Yeah yeah putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Been putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Yeah putting out fire
Been so long so long so long
Putting out fire

[...] Read more

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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,

[...] Read more

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Modern Cinderella

I'm a modern Cinderella.
I wish I was more like Twighlight's Bella.
But i'm locked away.
It's like that everyday.

I'm the modern Cinderella.
I wish I was the Enchanted Ella.
My family wants to get rid of me.
This no one really sees.

I'm the Modern Cinderella.
Never mind Bella.
I'm meeting you for the very first time.
This the day I challenge my self to sing 'The Climb.'

I'm the modern Cinderella
Never mind Ella.
We feel in love at first sight.
Now the clock strikes midnight.

I'm the modern Cinderella.
Never the orginal.
Never mind Bella.
Never mind Ella.
I don't run in flight.
I'm prepared to fight.

I'm the modern Cinderella.
See me as I am.
See the real me.
Not the person I pretened to be.

I'm the modern Cinderella.
Nothing like the original.
Not like Bella.
Not like Ella.
Now i've found my modern Prince.

I am me.
I'm the Modern Cinderella....

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Cinderella

I guess you think you know this story.
You don't. The real one's much more gory.
The phoney one, the one you know,
Was cooked up years and years ago,
And made to sound all soft and sappy
just to keep the children happy.
Mind you, they got the first bit right,
The bit where, in the dead of night,
The Ugly Sisters, jewels and all,
Departed for the Palace Ball,
While darling little Cinderella
Was locked up in a slimy cellar,
Where rats who wanted things to eat,
Began to nibble at her feet.

She bellowed 'Help!' and 'Let me out!
The Magic Fairy heard her shout.
Appearing in a blaze of light,
She said: 'My dear, are you all right?'
'All right?' cried Cindy .'Can't you see
'I feel as rotten as can be!'
She beat her fist against the wall,
And shouted, 'Get me to the Ball!
'There is a Disco at the Palace!
'The rest have gone and I am jealous!
'I want a dress! I want a coach!
'And earrings and a diamond brooch!
'And silver slippers, two of those!
'And lovely nylon panty hose!
'Done up like that I'll guarantee
'The handsome Prince will fall for me!'
The Fairy said, 'Hang on a tick.'
She gave her wand a mighty flick
And quickly, in no time at all,
Cindy was at the Palace Ball!

It made the Ugly Sisters wince
To see her dancing with the Prince.
She held him very tight and pressed
herself against his manly chest.
The Prince himself was turned to pulp,
All he could do was gasp and gulp.
Then midnight struck. She shouted,'Heck!
I've got to run to save my neck!'
The Prince cried, 'No! Alas! Alack!'
He grabbed her dress to hold her back.
As Cindy shouted, 'Let me go!'
The dress was ripped from head to toe.

She ran out in her underwear,

[...] Read more

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Straw Foot

I guess you didnt hear me
When I told you for the first time
Well dont you worry
It wont be the last
All I need a floorboard
An a wooden shoe
Step aside an let my lady through
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Up an back around
See the high priest
He took my place
When the judge looks to me
He saw his sons face
Not gonna join you in
Your tower of babble, boy
Tired o that talkin
Im sick o that noise
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Im not alone
An looks can be deceivin
When we get down to it
Youre talkin when you
Should be leavin
Ive been to nebraska
It reminded me of spain
All the questions loaded
All my answers same
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hay foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Let us not mince our words
Lets say it true this time
I need your forgiveness
Just like you need mine
Tell me how it is that
You dont want what hes given
It aint no sin son
To be forgiven
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
All over town

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Cinderella Search

(derek dick, mark kelly, steve rothery, peter trewavas, ian mosley)
On the rebound, fumbling all the lines
The light at the end of the bottle - alcoholicalphabet
Through the looking glass
The proof in my own reflection
Five senses down and reeling on the cinderella search
On the rebound, fumbling all the lines
Decay on the vertical hold with a horizontal aim
Conversation needs translation
Three dimensions down dissolving on the cinderella search
Cinderella search
On the rebound, fumbling all the lines
Dreaming bartenders, bourbon and saxophone
Out of luck, out of charm, out the game of rejections in a cigarette city
Only courting the homing of direction on the cinderella search
Cinderella search
But the samaritan of the heartbroken, heartbroken
Swam through the nicotine seize, and we exchanged the kiss of life
Resurrection in a trance, the model, the grail, in a marquee of promises I touched the dream
I hold the dream, I have the dream
To end the cinderella search
Cinderella search, oh no more, no more!
Exposing bedside manners on a work extension
Awaiting development with paranoid polaroid eyes
Polaroid eyes
The footman memorised the number
But the prince still holds both the slippers
And would you leave a palace for a bedsit
And canterbury tales
Canterbury tales?
Maybe it was infatuation or the thrill of the chase
Maybe you were always beyond my reach and my heart was playing safe
But was that love in your eye I saw or the reflection of mine?
Give me time, wont you give me that time!
Welcome back to the circus
Welcome back to the circus
Welcome back to the circus
I always use the cue sheets but never the nets
Always the cue sheets but never the nets
Never the nets, never the nets, nevertheless, nevertheless, nevertheless, nevertheless, nevertheless
Welcome back to the circus!

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Cinderella Stay Awhile

[verse 1]
Cinderella, stay awhile
Youre the one
That Ive been lookin for
Cinderella, when you smile
All around me sunbeams
Start to fall
Midnight is so near
Please dont disappear
Now that you are here
Stay awhile
[verse 2]
Cinderella, I just know
That the magic slippers
Gonna to fit
Cinderella, do not go
Youre my princess
I am sure of it
This is love for sure
Love thats sweet and pure
Love that will endure
Stay awhile
[bridge]
When you speak the angels all sing
This is the kind of magic you bring, oh
[verse 3]
Cinderella, stay awhile
This is like a fairytale with you
Cinderella, when you smile
All my fairytales are coming true
Well my only fear
Is midnight is so near
Please dont disappear
Stay awhile, oh
(fairytales, make-believe and you)
(fairytales, make-believe and you)
Cinderella, stay awhile
Dont you go
Oh
to fade>

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Cinderella Renewed

there was once a girl I knew
Her name was Cinderella
But Cinderella is way too long
We'll call her just Ella

Ella was a spoilt kid
Oh yes, she was
She rather barks than talks
not someone to cross

Then Gloomy air Spread everywhere
As her mother died with heart attack
All relatives cried at the news
Ella also did, but it was fake

His father married again
The lady had daughters of her own
Beautiful they were, oh yes
Names: Isabella and Sharon

Our Cinderella was very jealous
girls had taken her place, not one but two
Ella wanted to take revenge
From the girls, and their mother too!

But before she could do anything
The handsome prince called a ball
All the maidens were invited
It was to take place in the castle's hall

Excitement arose everywhere
Beautiful looked our Cinderella
But her stepsisters were their too
And their was no match for Isabella

The prince walked in the room
His eyes fell on Isabella
He asked her for a dance
And not our Cinderella

Soon the news spread through the kingdom
Prince and Isabella were to marry, no pretend
But then something happened
The prince chose Cinderella instead!

on the marriage day, bells rang
Ella and prince were coupled
But prince looked so forlorn and sad
As though he had just been crumpled

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IX. Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius, Fisci et Rev. Cam. Apostol. Advocatus

Had I God's leave, how I would alter things!
If I might read instead of print my speech,—
Ay, and enliven speech with many a flower
Refuses obstinate to blow in print,
As wildings planted in a prim parterre,—
This scurvy room were turned an immense hall;
Opposite, fifty judges in a row;
This side and that of me, for audience—Rome:
And, where yon window is, the Pope should hide—
Watch, curtained, but peep visibly enough.
A buzz of expectation! Through the crowd,
Jingling his chain and stumping with his staff,
Up comes an usher, louts him low, "The Court
"Requires the allocution of the Fisc!"
I rise, I bend, I look about me, pause
O'er the hushed multitude: I count—One, two—

Have ye seen, Judges, have ye, lights of law,—
When it may hap some painter, much in vogue
Throughout our city nutritive of arts,
Ye summon to a task shall test his worth,
And manufacture, as he knows and can,
A work may decorate a palace-wall,
Afford my lords their Holy Family,—
Hath it escaped the acumen of the Court
How such a painter sets himself to paint?
Suppose that Joseph, Mary and her Babe
A-journeying to Egypt, prove the piece:
Why, first he sedulously practiseth,
This painter,—girding loin and lighting lamp,—
On what may nourish eye, make facile hand;
Getteth him studies (styled by draughtsmen so)
From some assistant corpse of Jew or Turk
Or, haply, Molinist, he cuts and carves,—
This Luca or this Carlo or the like.
To him the bones their inmost secret yield,
Each notch and nodule signify their use:
On him the muscles turn, in triple tier,
And pleasantly entreat the entrusted man
"Familiarize thee with our play that lifts
"Thus, and thus lowers again, leg, arm and foot!"
—Ensuring due correctness in the nude.
Which done, is all done? Not a whit, ye know!
He,—to art's surface rising from her depth,—
If some flax-polled soft-bearded sire be found,
May simulate a Joseph, (happy chance!)—
Limneth exact each wrinkle of the brow,
Loseth no involution, cheek or chap,
Till lo, in black and white, the senior lives!
Is it a young and comely peasant-nurse

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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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III. The Other Half-Rome

Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!

There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk

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