My job is to score goals.
quote by Peter Bondra
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Eternal Creation
The Parent’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to the child; but to irrefutably ensure that the infant was nourished with their breath and blood till the time it could unflinchingly fend for its symbiotic survival; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created them for,
The Sun’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to light; but to irrefutably ensure that the rays optimistically enlightened even the most infinitesimally lugubrious cranny of remorsefully cloistered earth; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Rose’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to fragrance; but to irrefutably ensure that the majestic resplendence ebulliently blossomed into the lives of countless haplessly beleaguered and bereaved; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Peak’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to victory; but to irrefutably ensure that the royal triumph peerlessly massacred even the most ethereal iota of devilishness form this Universe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
Nature’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to newness; but to irrefutably ensure that the evolution metamorphosed every bit of egregiously stagnating ghoulishness into a sky of rhapsodic freshness; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Cloud’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to rain; but to irrefutably ensure that the water stupendously ignited vivaciously iridescent life in every ingredient of hopelessly dying soil; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Conscience’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to truth; but to irrefutably ensure that the righteousness insuperably conquered every trace of diabolical lies on earth and the atmosphere; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Ocean’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to salt; but to irrefutably ensure that the tanginess wonderfully illuminated every treacherously spiceles and deliriously lackadaisical moment of life; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Poet’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to fantasy; but to irrefutably ensure that the dream spellbindingly impregnates the winds of Omnipotent romance into monotonously monstrous robots; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created him for,
The Lip’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to smiles; but to irrefutably ensure that the happiness altruistically perpetually perpetuates into every dwelling incarcerated in chains of murderous gloom; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Rainbow’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to vividness; but to irrefutably ensure that the color timelessly enshrouded every gruesomely befriended orphan; miserably deteriorating on the globe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The Shadow’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to tranquility; but to irrefutably ensure that the peacefulness granted celestial reprieve to every bizarrely estranged soul squandering on this Universe; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created it for,
The philanthropist’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to unity; but to irrefutably ensure that the oneness miraculously coalesced every spuriously staggering and cold-bloodedly fighting caste; creed and tribe into the unassailable religion of humanity; was what the Almighty Creator had eternally created him for,
The wind’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to freedom; but to irrefutably ensure that the liberation unequivocally freed every element of torturously enslaved earth till times immemorial; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
The night’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to sensuality; but to irrefutably ensure that the passion brilliantly transformed every speck of infertility into the chapters of everlastingly Omniscient procreation; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
The eyelash’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to flirtation; but to irrefutably ensure that the mischief serenely catapulted every fretfully frenetic organism into realms of impeccable childhood; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
The soldiers job just doesn’t end at giving birth to martyrdom; but to irrefutably ensure that the valor to timelessly serve the mothersoil; throbbed fearlessly in every chest; even centuries after his veritable death; was what the Almighty Creator had created him for,
The breath’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to life; but to irrefutably ensure that the exultation inexhaustibly transcended over; even the most inane anecdote of baseless corruption and demeaning death; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for,
And the heart’s job just doesn’t end at giving birth to Love; but to irrefutably ensure that the compassionate togetherness tirelessly bonded the entire planet into a paradise of Omnipresently unshakable strength; was what the Almighty Creator had created it for…
©copyright-2004, by nikhil parekh. All rights reserved.
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Soccer Under 20
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[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Dead End Job
Words and music by The Police
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
The queue gets longer everyday
I just ain't no time to stay
I ain't gonna run away
All I want to do is play
Don't wanna be no teacher
I don't wanna be no slave
I don't wanna work no assembly line
A' like my uncle Dave
The queue gets longer everyday
I just ain't got time to stay
I ain't gonna run away
All I wanna do is play
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
The queue gets longer everyday
All I wanna do is play
I just ain't got time to stay
But I ain't gonna run away
Don't wanna be no millionaire
Don't wanna own no mint
I don't wanna be no tax exile
And I don't mind being skint
The queue gets longer every day
I just ain't got time to stay
I ain't gonna run away
All I wanna do is play
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
I don't want no dead end job
I don't wanna be no number
The queue gets longer everyday
I just ain't no time to stay
I ain't gonna run away
All I want to do is play
Don't wanna be no millionaire
[...] Read more
song performed by Police
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Soccer Rollback
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[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Mans Job
Well you can go out with him
Play with all of his toys
But takin care of you darlin
Aint for one of the boys
Oh theres somethin in your soul
That hes gonna rob
And lovin you baby lovin you darlin
Lovin you woman is a mans mans job
Lovin yous a mans job baby
Lovin yous a mans job
Lovin yous a mans job baby
Lovin yous a mans job
Well now his kisses may thrill
Those other girls that he likes
But when it comes to treatin
A real woman right
Well of all of his tricks
No they wont be enough
cause lovin you baby lovin you woman
Lovin you darlin is a mans mans job
Lovin yous a mans job baby
Lovin yous a mans job
Lovin yous a mans job baby
Lovin yous a mans job
Youre dancin with him hes holding you tight
Im standing here waitin to catch your eye
Your hands on his neck as the music sways
All my illusions slip away
Repeat riff from intro twice
Now if youre lookin for a hero
Someone to save the day
Well darlin my feet
Theyre made of clay
But Ive got something in my soul
And I wanna give it up
But gettin up the nerve
Gettin up the nerve
Gettin up the nerve is a mans mans job
Lovin yous a mans job baby
Lovin yous a mans job
Lovin yous a mans job woman
Lovin yous a mans job
song performed by Bruce Springsteen
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Dirty Job
Its a dirty job
But somebodys got to do it
Better get to it
Somebodys gotta do it
Whatever it takes, whatever it takes
Any work at all
Is better than none
Better buckle down to it
Gotta get the job done
Gotta earn my pay... I gotta earn my pay
I cant wait around on the lottery
And there aint no millionaires
Lookin for me
And somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebody
I can think of better things
Id rather do
I might get lucky
And Im hopin to
But until I do
I gotta compromise
The job aint much
But at least its mine
It beats standin
In the unemployment line
Put pride aside
And Ill improvise
Even if I do get a better job
Somebody else
Has gotta fill my spot
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebody
Somebody
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Somebodys gotta do it, do it
Its a dirty job
Its a low-down dirty job
Somebody
Even if the rules are too hard to follow
Even when pride is too hard to swallow
Its another day so its another dollar
Thats what its all about, oh
Its a dirty job
But somebodys got to do it
Better get to it
Somebodys gotta do it
[...] Read more
song performed by Dolly Parton
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Rich Man, Poor Man
When God looked down from Heaven's Throne to Job upon the Earth,
God saw Job's faith had fully grown and that this man had worth...
God told the Devil of this man, so righteous and so pure.
God said, 'He does the best he can, almost without a flaw...'
The Devil fumed and then replied, 'You made him rich, that's why!
How many times has that man sighed? He has no cause to cry! '
Then God let Satan smite Job's land and suffer for a while
And death was very near to hand... and poor Job lost his smile...
The Lord received Job's faithful praise, despite the tragic loss!
Job proved he loved the Lord always! That made the Devil cross!
'What say you now? ' the Lord remarked! But Satan argued still...
For he was livid, he was narked, 'What if I make him ill? '
So God agreed, 'But spare his life! ' So Satan went below
And Job fell ill, such that his wife saw skin boils start to grow...
'Why praise the Lord? Reject His love! ' But Job dismissed each word.
'I trust the Lord who dwells above! Rejection's quite absurd! '
Alas, poor Job conferred with friends, who said that he had sinned...
But Job had faith that never ends! Though he no longer grinned!
Through gritted teeth, he set them straight, 'Of what sin am I blamed?
Of every sin I've learned to hate! I sit here unashamed! '
Then God spoke loud and God spoke clear, of everything He'd made,
Both sun and moon, things far and near, so truth could be displayed.
A structured world to live upon, from valleys to snowflakes!
If rainbow-coloured lights are shone, then, oh, what joy, each makes!
Poor Job, he suffered all he could, yet now he'd seen God's face,
By faith, he'd done the things he should, yet Job was saved by grace!
By faith, not works, lest any boast, no matter, rich or poor...
In Christ, receive the Holy Ghost... You'll never want for more...
Denis Martindale, copyright, May 2011.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Virginia's Story
Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.
She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.
When she was old enough she got married.
First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.
Agnes was my mother.
Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.
Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.
Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.
Anna was a maid and cook.
She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth
They were both good cooks
They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.
My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.
She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.
[...] Read more
poem by Talile Ali
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter XXXXII)
I know You do just everything;
To You, no one can hindrance bring;
May be, I’ve dealt with some great things-
Things all unknown to e’en earth’s kings!
No one can block your purpose, Lord;
I came to know You by mouth’s word;
And now, my eyes both have seen God;
I’m sorry for whatev’r I said.
Of things I knew, I cannot know;
They are so wonderful Lord, O!
I disown things I said before;
In ashes, dust, I repent, Oh!
The Lord then spoke to Eliphaz,
‘I’m angry with you three, because
How you spoke to Job of me was
Never aright and made Job worse.’
‘My servant Job had spoken right;
Take bullocks, rams all seven each
To job who’ll pray with all his might,
To make up for your blunders, breach.’
‘Concerning me, you didn’t talk well,
As well as my servant Job’s spell!
I’ll accept his prayer to not
To punish severely, I thought.’
Eliphaz, Zohar, Bildad did
According to what God had bid.
God accepted Job’s prayer soon
For all, life turned from bane to boon!
God then restored Job’s sad a plight,
After Job prayed for friends aright;
He blessed him two-fold as before,
And Job was happy, all the more.
His relatives came back to him,
Enquiring how life had turned grim;
They condoled, comforted him also,
And shared their wealth with him therefore.
The latter days of Job were blessed,
More than the earlier ones, God dressed;
God gave him immense cattle-wealth;
He lived one-forty years in health.
[...] Read more
poem by John Celes
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Those with Goals Know
If one's only ambition,
Is to go to college...
Just to say one goes to a school,
May not be for one as advantageous...
As that goal focused upon,
By one who is determined...
With a sticking to it as is pursued?
Perhaps!
If this direction...
Has been thoughtfully mapped,
One undecided...
Can escape from extracurricular traps.
Perhaps!
If one has an agenda,
To a dream that has been attached.
One can party throughout college life,
Without worrying how or to whom...
To pay this expense back.
Those people,
With a 'Cry Me a River' approach to life...
And believe that a catching up on time,
Will extend their daylight...
May have waited a few minutes too late,
To open the gate.
With a belayed working towards that high paying job,
That has as of today...
Been erased from the landscapes from wherever,
These visions and dreams have been portrayed.
Since those with goals know,
A sacrificing is what it takes.
Since those with goals know,
A prerequisite to obtain an image...
A lecturing done,
Will not produce those lucky breaks.
Those with goals know,
Staying devoted requires discipline.
Since those with goals know,
A motivation isn't teachable.
Nor will a feeding of an unending feast,
Degreed by an education...
Guarantees anyone,
They can choose and select...
Exactly what to eat.
Those with goals know,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bible Stories: Job (Chapter II)
When angels came before Yahweh,
Satan too joined them again.
The Lord asked him, “Whence do you come? ”
And Satan told, “By roaming earth,
And going on lands, back and forth.”
God asked, “Did you notice my servant Job?
There’s none like him upon the earth! ”
“You ruined Job without a cause! ”
And Satan answered Lord and said,
“Man gives all things to save his life;
Just touch his body, he’ll curse God.”
So, God placed Job in Satan’s hands;
‘Just spare his life, ’ God warned Satan.
So, Satan went from Lord’s presence,
And caused Job boils from head to foot;
Job took a potsherd to scrape with
And sat amongst the ashes sad.
His wife advised, “Curse God and die! ”
Job told her not to be foolish.
“When good things come, we praise the Lord.”
“Why shouldn’t some evil come? ” asked Job.
In all this, Job didn’t sin by word!
Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar-
Good friends of Job, heard the sad news,
And rushed to mourn and console him!
From far, they couldn’t recognize Job;
They wept aloud and tore their cloaks;
They sprinkled dust upon their heads;
And sat with him upon the ground,
For seven days and nights, speechless.
They saw his grief was very great!
poem by John Celes
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You're Like a Child
You're an idiot, that's for sure
You'll never learn
You're a dumbass
That won't ever change
And through you have a grown man's body
Through you claim to be so very macho
You're like a child
You sit and waste away
You don't know what a job is
You don't ever wanna leave your mama's home
And crybaby all I want for you to know is
You're like a child
You don't know what a job is
You don't wanna ever leave your mama's home
All I want for you to know is
Your constant clinging to my purse strings brings me to tears
Even after all these years
And it pains me to have to put up with you
I know you too damn well
And through you look like a grown man
Through you claim to be so very macho
You're like a child
You sit and waste away
You don't know what a job is
You don't ever wanna leave your mama's home
And crybaby all I want you to know is
You're like a child
You sit and waste away
You don't know what a job is
You don't ever wanna leave your mama's home
All I want for you to know is
It's not that I wanna say goodbye
It's just time that you try to grow up
Stand on your own
Each and every single day you know
You're going to have to eventually move away
And through you look like a grown man
And through you claim to be ever so very macho
I know deep down
You're just scared
That through life you won't make it on your own
You're like a child
You sit and waste away
You don't know what a job is
You don't ever wanna leave your mama's home
[...] Read more
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Molded Goals
Give me my right to have a life of variety.
With a choice I decide in my mind,
Who and what I will be as I define.
People live to breathe in sequels.
And leeching to squeeze,
From an opportunistic vision.
But too afraid to plant their own footsteps,
If others are not pleased.
People are not free,
Or encouraged to be themselves.
And directed from their births,
To seek acceptance...
From others who have molded goals,
And know what is perfectness.
Give me my right to have a life of variety.
With a choice I decide in my mind,
Who and what I will be as I define.
People are not free,
Or encouraged to be themselves.
And directed from their births,
To seek acceptance...
From others who have molded goals,
And know what is perfectness.
Molded goals grow old to corrode.
And find a staleness solid...
Rusted with rot and dropped forgotten.
People live and breathe in sequels.
Too afraid to make fresh steps.
People live to please other people,
And get upset when nothing is correct!
Molded goals.
Molded goals.
Rusted with rot,
And soon dropped forgotten.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Promise to Keep This Secret
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
Why would somebody have an elicit affair?
With a promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
And do it while sneaking around,
In the clear open air?
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A friend can be a friend to another,
Until the end.
But a friend can not be trusted,
When a cheating begins.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
And a friend can't be expected to defend a friend.
When that friend is also 'friend',
To those who swap and cheat on spouses...
Of,
Other friends!
Oh.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
A promise to keep this secret,
Is a hard job.
A promise to keep discreet,
Is just so hard.
When those swapping spouses sneak from houses,
Living just next door???
Keeping this a secret is a hard job.
When those swapping spouses sneak from houses...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Jobism-According to Uncle Bob
'Jobism'
he said
'the real disease of the 2Oth century'
Bob was warming up to the topic.
'Now you take my grandfather,
what he wanted was his own piece of land
the ability to run his own life
he didn't work all his life for a job.
He worked for land and the independence
that land meant.
It has been that way for all of history of the human race.
From the cave man marking up the cave walls
to the rancher, the farmer
and the homesteader,
all we have ever wanted was a piece of land
to call our own.
My people came here to America not for a job
but for freedom.
Now we are settling for cubicles.
Mere one-hundred years ago
they taxed us off the land
gave to the corporations;
the farmers left the land,
got herded
into the dirty cities
plopped down into factories
becoming wage-slaves.
My Grandad is still bitter about that.
Now our kids are taught be good,
get a good education
and try to get a good wage-slave job.
One hundred years ago
it was get your own piece of land,
be independent,
don't be beholden to any man,
don't let the authorities run your life.
What a change huh?
This has had for more impact
than we think.
Hitler's minions asked why did they gas the Jews
[...] Read more
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Even The Score
I stayed up all night long
Drinkin and thinkin bout you
Is there anything left at all
Is there anything that I can do
cause I dont know what to say anymore
I dont know how to even the score with you, with you
Starin hard at that big front door
Is it time now to find my shoes
It aint the loss of love no more
Im just tryin hard to live with you
cause I dont know what to say anymore
And I dont know how to even the score with you, with you
With you, with you
cause I dont know what to say anymore
And I dont know how to even the score with you, oh, with you
Is love a question, whos weak, whos strong
I cant see it, wheres a compromise
Its so confusin where this thing has gone
Its gotta stop, youve gotta realize
cause I dont know what to say anymore
And I dont know how to even the score with you, oh, with you
Yes, with you, oh, with you
cause I dont know what to say anymore
And I dont know how to even the score with you, oh, with you
Yes, with you, oh, with you
I dont know what to say anymore
And I dont know how to even the score with you, oh, with you
Yes, with you, oh, with you
song performed by America
Added by Lucian Velea
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London River
Half a score o' sailormen that want to sail once more,
Cruising round the waterside with the Peter at the fore!
Half a score o' sailormen the sea will never drown -
Seven days in open boats a-drifting up and down! -
Out to find another ship and sail from London Town!
Half a score o' sailormen broke and on the rocks,
Linking down Commercial Road, tramping round the Docks,
Half a score o' sailormen, torpedoed twice before,
Once was in the Channel chops, once was off the Nore,
Last was in the open sea five hundred mile from shore!
Half a score o' sailormen that want to sail again -
And her cargo's all aboard her, and it's blowing up for rain!
Half a score o' sailormen that won't come home to tea -
For she's dropping down the river with the Duster flying free -
Down the London River on the road to the open sea!
poem by Cicely Fox Smith
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I'm Not Feelin It Anymore
Have to get back, have to get back the base
I need to talk to somebody, I can trust
Too many cooks, are tryin' to spoil the broth
I can't feel it in my throat, that's all she wrote
I'm not feeling it no more, I'm not feeling it anymore
Not feelin' it no more, not feelin' it anymore
When I was high at the party, everything looked good
I was seein' through rose coloured glasses
Not seein' the wood for the trees
I started out in normal operation
But I just ended up in doubt
All my drinking buddies, they locked me out
I'm not feelin' it no more, I'm not feelin' it anymore
No feelin' it no more, I'm tryin' to give you the score
You see me up there baby, I'm on the screen
But I know better now, it's so unreal
If this is success, then something's awful wrong
'Cause I bought the dream and I had to play along
I'm not feelin' it no more, I'm not feelin' it anymore
I'm tryin' to give you the score, I'm not feelin' it no more
We all know that money, don't buy you love
You just get a job and somewhere to live
You have to look for happiness, within yourself
And don't go chasin' thinkin' that it is somewhere else
I'm not feelin' it no more, I'm not feelin' it anymore
Baby I'm tryin' to give you the score,
I'm not feelin' it no more
I was pretending all the time
I was givin' everybody what they wanted
And I lost my peace of mind
And all I ever wanted was simply just to be me
All you ever need is the truth
And the truth will set you free
I'm not feelin' it no more, I'm not feelin' it anymore
I'm tryin' to give you the score, just like I did before
I'm not feelin' it no more, I'm not feelin' it anymore
I'm not feelin' it no more, baby I'm just trying to give you the score
I'm not feelin' it no more, not feelin' it anymore
Not feelin' it no more
Not feelin' it no more baby
song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Im Not Feeling It Anymore
Have to get back, have to get back the base
I need to talk to somebody, I can trust
Too many cooks, are tryin to spoil the broth
I cant feel it in my throat, thats all she wrote
Im not feeling it no more, Im not feeling it anymore
Not feelin it no more, not feelin it anymore
When I was high at the party, everything looked good
I was seein through rose coloured glasses
Not seein the wood for the trees
I started out in normal operation
But I just ended up in doubt
All my drinking buddies, they locked me out
Im not feelin it no more, Im not feelin it anymore
No feelin it no more, Im tryin to give you the score
You see me up there baby, Im on the screen
But I know better now, its so unreal
If this is success, then somethings awful wrong
'cause I bought the dream and I had to play along
Im not feelin it no more, Im not feelin it anymore
Im tryin to give you the score, Im not feelin it no more
We all know that money, dont buy you love
You just get a job and somewhere to live
You have to look for happiness, within yourself
And dont go chasin thinkin that it is somewhere else
Im not feelin it no more, Im not feelin it anymore
Baby Im tryin to give you the score,
Im not feelin it no more
I was pretending all the time
I was givin everybody what they wanted
And I lost my peace of mind
And all I ever wanted was simply just to be me
All you ever need is the truth
And the truth will set you free
Im not feelin it no more, Im not feelin it anymore
Im tryin to give you the score, just like I did before
Im not feelin it no more, Im not feelin it anymore
Im not feelin it no more, baby Im just trying to give you the score
Im not feelin it no more, not feelin it anymore
Not feelin it no more
Not feelin it no more baby.
song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Trial by Jury
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
THE LEARNED JUDGE
THE PLAINTIFF
THE DEFENDANT
COUNSEL FOR THE PLAINTIFF
USHER
FOREMAN OF THE JURY
ASSOCIATE
FIRST BRIDESMAID
SCENE - A Court of Justice, Barristers, Attorney, and Jurymen
discovered.
CHORUS
Hark, the hour of ten is sounding:
Hearts with anxious fears are bounding,
Hall of Justice, crowds surrounding,
Breathing hope and fear--
For to-day in this arena,
Summoned by a stern subpoena,
Edwin, sued by Angelina,
Shortly will appear.
Enter Usher
SOLO - USHER
Now, Jurymen, hear my advice--
All kinds of vulgar prejudice
I pray you set aside:
With stern, judicial frame of mind
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.
CHORUS
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried.
[During Chorus, Usher sings fortissimo, "Silence in Court!"]
USHER Oh, listen to the plaintiff's case:
Observe the features of her face--
The broken-hearted bride.
Condole with her distress of mind:
From bias free of every kind,
This trial must be tried!
[...] Read more
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Added by Poetry Lover
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