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Victor Hugo

Habit is the nursery of errors.

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The Convocation: A Poem

When Vertue's Standard Ecclesiasticks bear,
Their sacred Robe the noblest Minds revere.
All to its Guidance do their Thoughts submit,
But such who triumph in licentious Wit;
And nauseous Mirth as high Desert esteem,
When rais'd by Scorn upon Religion's Theme
As Kings by Right Divine o'er Nations sway,
As the most worthy, their high Pow'rs obey;
Homage by all is to the Priesthood born,
And none but Fools their Heav'nly Pastors scorn.


Yet censure not the Muse's Freedom here:
If urg'd by Errors, she must seem severe!
Tho' keen her Satyr, she no Envy bears;
Tho' Priests she lashes, she their Function spares.
Nor for ill Members such the Clergy calls,
But on their Shame, and not their Glory, falls.


Of all the Plagues with which the World is curst,
Time has still prov'd that Priestcraft is the worst.
By some, what Notions thro' the World are spread?
On Falshoods grounded, and from Int'rest bred;
Errour has still the giddy World perplext,
Whilst Scripture gilds it with some sacred Text.
This wild Opinions Strife and Faction brings,
The Bane of Nations, the Misrule of Kings.
Priests oft profane what they from Heav'n derive;
Some live by Legends, some by Murders thrive,
Some sell their Gods, and Altar-Rites deface,
With Doctrines some the Brain-sick People craze.


The Pagan prey on slaughter'd Wretches Fates,
The Romish fatten on the best Estates,
The British stain what Heav'n has right confest,
And Sectaries the Scriptures falsly wrest.


Amongst the Tribe, how few are, as they ought,
Clear in their Souls, instructive in their Thought!
The Good, like Prophets, shew their Precepts pure;
The Ill with Craft the Heav'nly Light obscure;
False to their Trust, they lead their Flocks astray,
And with their Errors cloud the sacred Way.


Tho' artless Numbers may my Verses throng,
Yet now Religion's Cause inspires my Song:

[...] Read more

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Errors

there will be always errors
my errors
not yours, even your errors
shall be mine
for there will always be errors
that is too normal
for our lifetime
too short to be erroneous
but always real
too real to be touched
too exciting
to be always noticed
and too numb to be affected
by their
hypocrisies

you too? oh my, why?
don't you like to be the most normal
bird with only two wings
to fly?
how can you use a third wing?
to see with the third eye
aren't you funny to see
on this third
excess?

come, let us feast on these errors
drink these glasses of errors
be filled and vomit with errors
defecate these errors
and be empty again
after having learned so much
to become the
newest genius in this town

of errors.

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Spasmolytic

Kicking the (kickin')...habit (2x)
K... K.. Kicking the...habit (3x)
Making time in a low rent high-rise
Downtown!
Downtown... (11x)
Kicking the...habit (4x)
Kicking the (kickin')...habit (4x)
Downtown (8x)
Swirling tastes phornicate rotted meat (2x)
Rotted meat... (8x)
She sits alone in the worry she's created (2x)
In the worry she's created...
Kicking the...habit (4x)
K...K..Kicking the...habit (2x)
Kicking the...habit (8x)
Kickin the habit (2x)
Kicking the (kickin')...habit
Kickin the habit (2x)
No!

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For Them It's Automatic

People lie and they like it...
Just that way.
People lie out of habit,
Like a sport...
To play!

It is in their eyes as if there's something to hide!
And there are those people lieing to defy with denying.
People lie and they like it...
Everyday.
People lie out of habit,
And it's here to stay!

It's in their eyes as if there's something to hide!
And there are those people lieing defying to deny,
They are lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and they like it...
Just that way.
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.

People lie and they like it...
Everyday.
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and they like it...
Just that way.
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.

It's in their eyes as if there's something to hide!
Lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
People lie and think,
They're in disguise.
And lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.

People lie and think,
They're in disguise.
And lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.
And lieing out of habit since for them it's automatic.

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The Printer's Error

Fellow compositors
and pressworkers!

I, Chief Printer
Frank Steinman,
having worked fifty-
seven years at my trade,
and served five years
as president
of the Holliston
Printer's Council,
being of sound mind
though near death,
leave this testimonial
concerning the nature
of printers' errors.

First: I hold that all books
and all printed
matter have
errors, obvious or no,
and that these are their
most significant moments,
not to be tampered with
by the vanity and folly
of ignorant, academic
textual editors.
Second: I hold that there are
three types of errors, in ascending
order of importance:
One: chance errors
of the printer's trembling hand
not to be corrected incautiously
by foolish professors
and other such rabble
because trembling is part
of divine creation itself.

Two: silent, cool sabotage
by the printer,
the manual laborer
whose protests
have at times taken this
historical form,
covert interferences
not to be corrected
censoriously by the hand
of the second and far
more ignorant saboteur,
the textual editor.

[...] Read more

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The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

III.

Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.

IV.

Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.

V.

The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.

VI.

It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.

VII.

The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.

VIII.

Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.

IX.

The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.

X.

The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.

XI.

As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.

XII.

The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.

XIII.

[...] Read more

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Breaking The Habit

Memories concern
Like opening the wound
Im picking me apart again
You all assume
Im safer in my room
Unless I try to start again
I dont want to be the one
Who battles always choose
Cuz inside I realize
That Im the one confused
I dont know whats worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I dont know why I instigate
And say what I dont mean
I dont know how I got this way
I know its not alright
So Im breaking the habit
Im breaking the habit tonight
Cultured my cure
I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more
Than anytime before
I have no options left again
I dont want to be the one
Who battles always choose
Cuz inside I realize
That Im the one confused
I dont know whats worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
I dont know why I instigate
And say what I dont mean
I dont know how I got this way
Ill never be alright
So, Im breaking the habit
Im breaking the habit tonight
Ill paint it on the walls
Cuz Im the one that falls
Ill never fight again
And this is how it ends
I dont know whats worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
But now I have some clarity
To show you what I mean
I dont know how I got this way
Ill never be alright
So, Im breaking the habit
Im breaking the habit
Breaking the habit tonight

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Nursery Rhyme

Badly drawn boy :
Does it mean I never let you know
Each time I turn inside
When I fully grow Ill outsize you
But I wont let you fall in love
You know it flows over me
And you wont let me drown inside
Sing a nursery rhyme to keep me quiet
Sing a nursery rhyme to keep me quiet
Woman please stay close to me, close to me
Carried through your ecstasy
You cant stop me breathing
Even when youre on fire
Know that youre weaving
With my emotional wires
Flows through me, in through me, out through me
Over me, feeling me, feeding me electrically
Its electric ballroom love x7
Do do do do, do do do do
I have to breathe the air you breathe
Im inside you
In a room inside a room, Im inside you
The colour changes follow your emotion
I can see when youre feeling desire
I feel him close to you
While I just walk around inside you
Dont let him close to me
Not when you know its not the one
The one x6 that you love
Its electric ballroom love x7
Keep me quiet
Wont you sing me a nursery rhyme
To keep me quiet while youre on fire
X3
Please just sing me a nursery rhyme
To keep me quiet, while Im inside
X2
I wont let you fall in love
You know inside, the baby knows
X4
Your baby knows x4
Youre on fire, youre on fire
Keep me quiet, keep me angry

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Nursery Rhyme (UNKLEsounds Edit)

Badly Drawn Boy :
Does it mean I never let you know
Each time I turn inside
When I fully grow I'll outsize you
But I won't let you fall in love
You know it flows over me
And you won't let me drown inside
Sing a nursery rhyme to keep me quiet
Sing a nursery rhyme to keep me quiet
Woman please stay close to me, close to me
Carried through your ecstasy
You can't stop me breathing
Even when you're on fire
Know that you're weaving
With my emotional wires
Flows through me, in through me, out through me
Over me, feeling me, feeding me electrically
It's electric ballroom love X7
Do do do do, do do do do
I have to breathe the air you breathe
I'm inside you
In a room inside a room, I'm inside you
The colour changes follow your emotion
I can see when you're feeling desire
I feel him close to you
While I just walk around inside you
Don't let him close to me
Not when you know it's not the one
The one X6 that you love
It's electric ballroom love X7
Keep me quiet
Won't you sing me a nursery rhyme
To keep me quiet while you're on fire
X3
Please just sing me a nursery rhyme
To keep me quiet, while I'm inside
X2
I won't let you fall in love
You know inside, the baby knows
X4
Your baby knows X4
You're on fire, you're on fire
Keep me quiet, keep me angry

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Where the Sidewalk Ends

where the sidewalk ends
now a nursery school stands
it slowly quietly comes alive at morn
the gentleness of a breeze as
children with their bags on their backs
walk, run into their classrooms
after the first light of morn

where the sidewalk ends
now a nursery school stands
it quietens down at the last light of dusk
the gentleness of a breeze
as children leave and go happy that they
have fulfilled mom's and dad's wishes
and learnt a few rudimentary words and grammar
their laughters and cheers as they leave
echo those in the lane of my memory
- a few young boys and girls swarming round
a mango tree shaking for its last mango
it had missed my friends and dropped right on my left eye
before plopping onto the ground with a 'bruise' on its yellowish skin
i could still hear the cheers and the question 'who will take this? '

little mary always got the fruit of our play
guess what, she also got married to the best boy of the gang
yesteryears' cheers still shore up the camaraderie
in her reunion dos for all of us
come rain or shine we woud all try to attend
but sadly we would never see the faces of all
someone, somewhere had always ended up at the
sidewalk of another lane, road

where the sidewalk ends now a
nursery school stands evoking
the wondrous time we had spent here

where the sidewalk ends
the first lesson of life begins
where smiles, cheeers and tears
come straight from the hearts
how in every reunion we tried hard
to laugh in the same way, but always
resulted with a tinge of regret we would never
be able to do it the way when we were children
it hurt us like the bruised mango that
had fallen hardhazardly on the lane of our memory

where the sidewalk ends
now stands a nursery school
where joy and laughter abound

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Change Of Habit

(words & music by b. kaye - b. weisman)
If youre in old habits
Set in your old ways
Changes are a-comin
For these are changing days
And if your head is in the sand
While things are goin on
What you need, what you need,
What you need is a change of habit
Now if youre in the habit
To let your temper fly
When you talk with people
Who dont see eye to eye
And if you dont believe it
Theres a newer world ahead
What you need, what you need,
What you need is a change of habit
A change of habit, a change of outlook
A change of heart, youll be all right
The halls of darkness
Have doors that open
Its never too late
To see the light
So if youre in the habit
Of putting people down
Just because theyre different
From the wrong side of town
Well, dont count on any medals son
Theyre pinning none on you
What you need, what you need,
What you need is a change of habit

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Just Leave Them Like You've Had It

I've got to beat bad habits...
To leave them like I've had it!
Not to pick them up again...
If I do I'll never win.

Beat bad habits...
To leave them like I've had it!
Not to pick them up again...
It is as if I'll never win.

You remind me why I never come home.
Not yet a habit.
You remind me why I turn off my phone.
Not yet a habit.
You remind me why I love to live alone.
But from you it seems I've got to know what's going on!
And that's a habit.

I've got to beat bad habits...
To leave them like I've had it!
Not to pick them up again...
If I do I'll never win.

I've got to free from those bad habits.

Beat bad habits...
I've got to free from bad habits now.
Those habits...
Those ones I want to break but how?

You remind me why I never come home.
Not yet a habit.
You remind me why I turn off my phone.
Not yet a habit.
You remind me why I love to live alone.
But from you it seems I've got to know what's going on!
And that's a habit.

I've got to beat bad habits...
To leave them like I've had it!
Not to pick them up again...
If I do I'll never win.

Beat bad habits...
To leave them like I've had it!
Not to pick them up again...
It is as if I'll never win.

I've got to free from those bad habits.

[...] Read more

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Her Only Bad Habit Is Me

We walk hand in hand
through our world today.
We will walk that way forever,
if bad habits don’t get in the way.
Now she has only one bad habit,
and that habit is me.

If I do something wrong,
she does not see my failing there.
She would rather go on loving,
the man she chose to care.
Now my bad habit shine like a beckon,
but she does not really care.

So though we wander with love,
through to the sunset somewhere.
I think of how lucky I am,
with everything I see.
So glad she has only one bad habit,
and that habit is me.


14 June 2007

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Habit Inhibitor

You need to get up and change.
And stop that complaining,
About the same 'thang'.
Yes,
You need to get up and change!
And get rid of...
Or,
Arrange that pain.
Yes,
You need to get up and change!
You're a habit inhibitor a lip bitter giver!
Yes,
You need to get up and change!
You're a misfit fixed to unhappiness,
Looking for another trick...
To end that mix the same.

You need to get up and change.
And stop that complaining,
About the same 'thang'.
Yes,
You need to get up and change!
You're a habit inhibitor a lip bitter giver!
Yes,
You need to get up and change!
You're a misfit fixed to unhappiness,
Looking for another trick...
To end that mix the same.

You're a habit inhibitor a lip bitter giver!
A misfit fixed to unhappiness,
Looking for another trick...
To end that mix the same.

You need to get up and change.
And stop that complaining,
About the same 'thang'.
Yes,
You need to get up and change!
And stop looking for another trick...
To end that same 'thang' claimed!

You need to get up and change.
You're a habit inhibitor a lip bitter giver!
Yes,
You need to get up and change!
You're a misfit fixed to unhappiness.

You need to get up and change.
You're a habit inhibitor a lip bitter giver!

[...] Read more

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trying to break my Habit

Memories consume
Like opening the wound
I'm picking me apart again
You all assume
I'm safe here in my room
Unless I try to start againI don't want to be the one
The battles always choose
'Cause inside I realize
That I'm the one confused

I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream.
I don't know why I instigate
And say what I don't mean.
I don't know how I got this way
I know it's not alright.
So I'm breaking the habit,
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight
Clutching my cure
I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more
Than anytime before
I had no options left again
I'll paint it on the walls
'Cause I'm the one that falls
I'll never fight again
And this is how it ends
I don't know what's worth fighting for
Or why I have to scream
But now I have some clarity
to show you what I mean
I don't know how I got this way
I'll never be alright
So, I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
I'm breaking the habit
Tonight

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The Child Of The Islands - Winter

I.

ERE the Night cometh! On how many graves
Rests, at this hour, their first cold winter's snow!
Wild o'er the earth the sleety tempest raves;
Silent, our Lost Ones slumber on below;
Never to share again the genial glow
Of Christmas gladness round the circled hearth;
Never returning festivals to know,
Or holidays that mark some loved one's birth,
Or children's joyous songs, and loud delighted mirth.
II.

The frozen tombs are sheeted with one pall,--
One shroud for every churchyard, crisp and bright,--
One foldless mantle, softly covering all
With its unwrinkled width of spotless white.
There, through the grey dim day and starlit night,
It rests, on rich and poor, and young and old,--
Veiling dear eyes,--whose warm homne-cheering light
Our pining hearts can never more behold,--
With an unlifting veil,--that falleth blank and cold.
III.

The Spring shall melt that snow,--but kindly eyes
Return not with the Sun's returning powers,--
Nor to the clay-cold cheek, that buried lies,
The living blooms that flush perennial flowers,--
Nor, with the song-birds, vocal in the bowers,
The sweet familiar tones! In silence drear
We pass our days,--and oft in midnight hours
Call madly on their names who cannot hear,--
Names graven on the tombs of the departed year!
IV.

There lies the tender Mother, in whose heart
So many claimed an interest and a share!
Humbly and piously she did her part
In every task of love and household care:
And mournfully, with sad abstracted air,
The Father-Widower, on his Christmas Eve,
Strokes down his youngest child's long silken hair,
And, as the gathering sobs his bosom heave,
Goes from that orphaned group, unseen to weep and grieve.
V.

Feeling his loneliness the more this day
Because SHE kept it with such gentle joy,
Scarce can he brook to see his children play,
Remembering how her love it did employ

[...] Read more

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John Dryden

The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part II.

“Dame,” said the Panther, “times are mended well,
Since late among the Philistines you fell.
The toils were pitched, a spacious tract of ground
With expert huntsmen was encompassed round;
The inclosure narrowed; the sagacious power
Of hounds and death drew nearer every hour.
'Tis true, the younger lion 'scaped the snare,
But all your priestly calves lay struggling there,
As sacrifices on their altars laid;
While you, their careful mother, wisely fled,
Not trusting destiny to save your head.
For, whate'er promises you have applied
To your unfailing Church, the surer side
Is four fair legs in danger to provide;
And whate'er tales of Peter's chair you tell,
Yet, saving reverence of the miracle,
The better luck was yours to 'scape so well.”
“As I remember,” said the sober Hind,
“Those toils were for your own dear self designed,
As well as me; and with the selfsame throw,
To catch the quarry and the vermin too,—
Forgive the slanderous tongues that called you so.
Howe'er you take it now, the common cry
Then ran you down for your rank loyalty.
Besides, in Popery they thought you nurst,
As evil tongues will ever speak the worst,
Because some forms, and ceremonies some
You kept, and stood in the main question dumb.
Dumb you were born indeed; but, thinking long,
The test, it seems, at last has loosed your tongue:
And to explain what your forefathers meant,
By real presence in the sacrament,
After long fencing pushed against a wall,
Your salvo comes, that he's not there at all:
There changed your faith, and what may change may fall.
Who can believe what varies every day,
Nor ever was, nor will be at a stay?”
“Tortures may force the tongue untruths to tell,
And I ne'er owned myself infallible,”
Replied the Panther: “grant such presence were,
Yet in your sense I never owned it there.
A real virtue we by faith receive,
And that we in the sacrament believe.”
“Then,” said the Hind, “as you the matter state,
Not only Jesuits can equivocate;
For real, as you now the word expound,
From solid substance dwindles to a sound.
Methinks, an Æsop's fable you repeat;
You know who took the shadow for the meat:
Your Church's substance thus you change at will,

[...] Read more

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Shoot & Ladders

Ring-a-round-the-rosies.
Pocket full of posies.
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
Nursery rhymes are said, verses in my head.
Into my childhood, theyre spoon fed.
Hidden violence revealed, darkness that seems real.
Look at the pages that cause all this evil.
One, two - buckle my shoe.
Three, four - shut the door.
Five, six - pick up sticks.
Seven, eight - lay them straight
London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down.
London bridge is falling down my fair lady.
Nursery rhymes are said, verses in my head.
Into my childhood, theyre spoon fed.
Hidden violence revealed, darkness that seems real.
Look at the pages that cause all this evil.
Knick-knack paddywhack, give a dog a bone.
This old man came rolling home.
Mary had a little lamb, its fleece was white as snow.
Baa baa black have you any wool? yes sir, yes sir, three bags full.
Ring-a-round-the-rosies.
Pocket full of posies.
Ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
Nursery rhymes are said, verses in my head.
Into my childhood, theyre spoon fed.
Hidden violence revealed, darkness that seems real.
Look at the pages that cause all this evil.
Knick-knack paddywhack, give a dog a bone!

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Forgotten

Lords of the Nursery
Wait in a row,
Five on the high wall,
And four on the low;
Big Kings and Little Kings,
Brown Bears and Black,
All of them waiting
Till John comes back.

Some think that John boy
Is lost in the wood,
Some say he couldn’t be,
Some say he could.
Some think that John boy
Hides on the hill;
Some say he won’t come back,
Some say he will.

High was the sun, when
John went away . . .
Here they’ve been waiting
All through the day;
Big Bears and Little Bears,
White Kings and Black,
All of them waiting
Till John comes back.

Lords of the Nursery
Looked down the hill,
Some saw the sheep-fold,
Some say the mill;
Some saw the roofs
Of the little grey town . . .
And their shadows grew long
As the sun slipt down.

Gold between the poplars
An old moon shows;
Silver up the star-way
The full moon rose;
Silver down the star-way
The old moon crept . . .
And, one by another,
The grey fields slept.

Lords of the Nursery
Their still watch keep . . .
They hear from the sheep-fold
The rustle of sheep.
A young bird twitters

[...] Read more

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A Castaway

Poor little diary, with its simple thoughts,
its good resolves, its "Studied French an hour,"
"Read Modern History," "Trimmed up my grey hat,"
"Darned stockings," "Tatted," "Practised my new song,"
"Went to the daily service," "Took Bess soup,"
"Went out to tea." Poor simple diary!
and did I write it? Was I this good girl,
this budding colourless young rose of home?
did I so live content in such a life,
seeing no larger scope, nor asking it,
than this small constant round -- old clothes to mend,
new clothes to make, then go and say my prayers,
or carry soup, or take a little walk
and pick the ragged-robins in the hedge?
Then for ambition, (was there ever life
that could forego that?) to improve my mind
and know French better and sing harder songs;
for gaiety, to go, in my best white
well washed and starched and freshened with new bows,
and take tea out to meet the clergyman.
No wishes and no cares, almost no hopes,
only the young girl's hazed and golden dreams
that veil the Future from her.

So long since:
and now it seems a jest to talk of me
as if I could be one with her, of me
who am ...... me.

And what is that? My looking-glass
answers it passably; a woman sure,
no fiend, no slimy thing out of the pools,
a woman with a ripe and smiling lip
that has no venom in its touch I think,
with a white brow on which there is no brand;
a woman none dare call not beautiful,
not womanly in every woman's grace.

Aye let me feed upon my beauty thus,
be glad in it like painters when they see
at last the face they dreamed but could not find
look from their canvass on them, triumph in it,
the dearest thing I have. Why, 'tis my all,
let me make much of it: is it not this,
this beauty, my own curse at once and tool
to snare men's souls -- (I know what the good say
of beauty in such creatures) -- is it not this
that makes me feel myself a woman still,
some little pride, some little --

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