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In course of time the Brothers Cowper removed the manufacture of their printing machines from London, to Manchester. There they found skilled and energetic workmen, ready to carry their plans into effect.

quote by James Nasmyth
Added by Lucian Velea
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Brothers

Lets get to the point now
Just because weve got the same mum and dad
That dont mean im your keeper
That dont mean I owe anything to you
You dont care for me
And man I dont think that much of you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
You drove my car when we were young boys
And you tore it up too
You never paid to get it fixed
And you got me beat up a time or two
I know I should forgive and forget
But man I still hold a grudge against you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
It is as normal as it can be
This sibling rivalry
We should have dropped it at 22
But man I cant stand the things you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Youre always want something from me
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
It was so much fun having you in the family
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Now that were grown it aint helped nothin? at all
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
On my birthday, please dont bother to call
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, youre my brother brother brother
Brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, were brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, were brothers brothers brothers
Brothers brothers brothers

song performed by John Mellencamp
Added by Lucian Velea
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London Song

Theres a room in a house in a street in a manor in a borough
Thats part of a city that is generally referred to as london
Its a dark place, a mysterious place
And it is said that if youre born within the sound of bow-bells
You have the necessary qualifications to be christened a londoner
[its a cruel place, its a hard place]
But when you think back to all the great londoners
William blake, charles dickens, dick whittington,
Pearly kings, barrow boys, arthur daley, max wall
And dont forget the kray twins
But if youre ever up on highgate hill on a clear day
You can see right down to leicester square [london, london]
Crystal palace, clapham common, right down to streatham hill
North and south, I feel that Im a londoner still [london, london]
Chiswick bridge to newham and east ham
Churchbells ring out through the land
You were born in london, england
[london, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london]
And theres a tap by a reservoir, leading to a stream,
That turns into a river estuary that eventually opens to the sea
[london, london]
And theres a docker by a wharf, sending cargo overseas,
Unloading foreign trade from a large ocean vessel
In the mighty metropolitan port of london
[london, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london]
When I think of all the londoners still unsung
East-enders, west-enders, oriental-enders
Fu manchu, sherlock holmes, jack spock, henry cooper,
Thomas abecket, thomas moore, and dont forget the kray twins
Theres a part of me that says get out
Then one day Ill hear somebody shout
Sounds to me like you come from london town
But if youre ever up on highgate hill on a clear day,
Ill be there [Ill be there]
Yes I will be there [there]
Through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
London, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london
London, london, through the dark alley-ways and passages of london, london

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Barrel-Organ

There's a barrel-organ carolling across a golden street
In the City as the sun sinks low;
And the music's not immortal; but the world has made it sweet
And fulfilled it with the sunset glow;
And it pulses through the pleasures of the City and the pain
That surround the singing organ like a large eternal light;
And they've given it a glory and a part to play again
In the Symphony that rules the day and night.

And now it's marching onward through the realms of old romance,
And trolling out a fond familiar tune,
And now it's roaring cannon down to fight the King of France,
And now it's prattling softly to the moon.
And all around the organ there's a sea without a shore
Of human joys and wonders and regrets;
To remember and to recompense the music evermore
For what the cold machinery forgets...

Yes; as the music changes,
Like a prismatic glass,
It takes the light and ranges
Through all the moods that pass;
Dissects the common carnival
Of passions and regrets,
And gives the world a glimpse of all
The colours it forgets.

And there La Traviata sighs
Another sadder song;
And there Il Trovatore cries
A tale of deeper wrong;
And bolder knights to battle go
With sword and shield and lance,
Than ever here on earth below
Have whirled into--a dance!--

Go down to Kew in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time;
Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London!)
And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland;
Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London!)

The cherry-trees are seas of bloom and soft perfume and sweet perfume,
The cherry-trees are seas of bloom (and oh, so near to London!)
And there they say, when dawn is high and all the world's a blaze of sky
The cuckoo, though he's very shy, will sing a song for London.

The nightingale is rather rare and yet they say you'll hear him there
At Kew, at Kew in lilac-time (and oh, so near to London!)
The linnet and the throstle, too, and after dark the long halloo
And golden-eyed tu-whit, tu-whoo of owls that ogle London.

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Noyes
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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:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Brothers O' Mine

Brothers o' mine, brothers o' mine,
All the world over, from pole to pole
All of them brothers of mine and thine
Every wondering, blundering soul.
Banded together by grace divine,
Brothers o' mine, brothers o' mine.

Good Brother Green at the service sat
Sat in the chapel and bowed his head;
Praying most fervently into his hat;
Bending his knee when The Word was read.
For good Brother Green was a godly man
A godly keristian; and what be more,
He loved all sinners, and carefully ran
A worldy and prosperous grocery store.

'Brothers o' mine, brothers o' mine,'
Quoted the preacher, with dolorous drone:
'The Lord He hath given thee all that is thine.
Love ye not gold for itself alone.
E'er to the fallen thy mercy incline,
Love thou thy neighbour! O, brothers o' mine.'

Good comrade Hal in the tavern sat
Sat in the tavern and tossed his head,
Tilting a glass to the brim of his hat;
Bending his arm when the toast was said.
But comrade Hal was a godless man
A godless sinner; and what be more,
He loved good liquor, and carelessly ran
A long, long bill at the grocery store.

'Brother o' mine, brother o' mine,'
Shouted the tippler in riotous tone,
'Toiled thou, and sweated for all that is thine;
But love not gold for itself alone.
Gold bringeth gladness and red, red wine.
Fill up another! O, brother o' mine.'

Every Sabbath, since childhood years,
Good Brother Green at the service sat
A traveller stern in this vale of tears
Breathing his piety into his hat;
Praying for guidance and praying for light;
Vowing unworthiness more and more;
With a nice warm feeling that all was right
With the business of Green's Cash Grocery Store.

'Brothers o' mine, brothers o' mine,'
Turn not away from thy brother in sin.

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Carry On

(eric beall)
Carry on
When the valleys deep
Ill be strong
With a mighty love to
Carry on
Never sleep til the new day dawns
Theres a new breeze blowin tonight
Clear away the past
Honey, free at last
Yes, Ive paid for the choices Ive made
No apologies from me
You know Ill never, no
Never lose my will
Never, never standin still
Ill carry on
When the valleys deep Ill be strong
With a mighty love to carry on
Never sleep til the new day dawns
I carry on
I stand alone in the eye of the storm
Pressures all around
Tryin to wear me down
But its all right
I wont give up the fight
I said, lord, lift me up!
Let me rise above
Ill never
Nobodys gonna take my pride
I wont stop
I will not be denied
Carry on
When the valleys deep Ill be strong
With a mighty love to carry on, carry on
Ill never sleep till the new day dawns
I carry on
I wont let, I wont let nothing hold me
No, no I wont let
Wont let nothing hold me back
I wont stop now
Carry on, Ill carry on
Yes, Ill carry
Ill carry on, yeah
Yes Ill carry
Carry on, Im gonna carry on
Yes, Ill carry
Carry on
Dont carry on without me
I said Ill never
Nobodys gonna take my pride

[...] Read more

song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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Carry On (remix)

(Eric Beall)
Carry on
When the valley's deep
I'll be strong
With a mighty love to
Carry on
Never sleep til' the new day dawns
There's a new breeze blowin' tonight
Clear away the past
Honey, free at last
Yes, I've paid for the choices I've made
No apologies from me
You know I'll never, no
Never lose my will
Never, never standin' still
I'll carry on
When the valley's deep I'll be strong
With a mighty love to carry on
Never sleep til' the new day dawns
I carry on
I stand alone in the eye of the storm
Pressures all around
Tryin' to wear me down
But it's all right
I won't give up the fight
I said, "Lord, lift me up!"
Let me rise above
I'll never
Nobody's gonna take my pride
I won't stop
I will not be denied
Carry on
When the valley's deep I'll be strong
With a mighty love to carry on, carry on
I'll never sleep till the new day dawns
I carry on
I won't let, I won't let nothing hold me
No, no I won't let
Won't let nothing hold me back
I won't stop now
Carry on, I'll carry on
Yes, I'll carry
I'll carry on, yeah
Yes I'll carry
Carry on, I'm gonna carry on
Yes, I'll carry
Carry on
Don't carry on without me
I said I'll never
Nobody's gonna take my pride

[...] Read more

song performed by Diana Ross
Added by Lucian Velea
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Margaret's Bridal Eve

I

The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.

II

O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.

Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.

O mother, but when I awake in the morn!

[...] Read more

poem by George Meredith
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London

New York winter
Traffic squeals
The city feels...so old
Late December
Taxi ride
Then run inside
It's cold
Got your letter Monday
I think
Or Tuesday
I lose track
Since then I've been thinking of you
And I've been
Looking back to
London
Can you believe it's
So many years since
London
Hitching a ride and
Carrying knapsacks
London
In the park
By the Thames
Drinking tea
London
Sitting in pubs and
Living in walk-ups
London
Learning the accent
Learnin' to love you
London
We were young
We we sure
We were...free
Was it really ages
Ago
The memories
Never fade
Can you hear Big Ben where
You are
And are you
Glad you stayed in
London
Dodging the rain with
Broken umbrellas
London
Reading the times
On Saturday picnics
London
Counting the stars,

[...] Read more

song performed by Barry Manilow
Added by Lucian Velea
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Get Ready

You think you know but you have no clue
No idea
You dont know g
I mean you really really dont know g
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
Hell yeah ya better get ready
Whats cracka lackin
Its the big dog
Im in the hizzle with my nizzle gin u izzle
And I mean from playa to playa
Its only right if I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass it to my nephew g
Hes bonafide, qualified, and the ladies would definitely testify
Matter fact g
Holla at them nephew
Fa sho
Pass the hennessey
Im about to get bent
Toss the box of blunts
Let me roll the upper lip
Dont make me pop thangs
Cause I gets off the chain
You dont know me
But youre bout to
Its the real me
And I thought you knew
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready (he coming at you full speed baby, but with a slow motion twist)
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready
I mean I mean ginuwine is so official
Like a referee with a whistle
Better yet like a gangsta with a pistol
So you n****s bettter get ready
Yeah I know
Matter fact g
Give it em doggy style
I know they aint ready but they got to get ready
You do you I do me
And we keep it like a g
Pass me that hennessey

[...] Read more

song performed by Ginuwine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Get Ready (feat. Snoop Dogg & The Rock)

Album: Senior
(feat. Snoop Dogg & The Rook)
You think you know but you have no clue
No idea
You don't know G
I mean you really really don't Know G
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
Hell Yeah ya better get ready
What's cracka lackin
It's the big dog
I'm in the hizzle with my nizzle Gin U izzle
And I mean from playa to playa
It's only right if I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass it to my nephew G
He's bonafide, Qualified, and the ladies would definitely testify
Matter fact G
Holla at them Nephew
Fa Sho
Pass the Hennessey
I'm about to get bent
Toss the box of blunts
Let me roll the upper lip
Don't make me pop thangs
Cause I gets off the chain
You don't know me
But you're bout to
It's the real me
And I thought you knew
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready (he coming at you full speed baby, but with a slow motion twist)
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready
I mean I mean Ginuwine is so official
Like a referee with a whistle
Better yet like a gangsta with a pistol
So you n****s bettter get ready
Yeah I know
Matter fact G
Give it 'em doggy style
I know they ain't ready but they got to get ready
You do you I do me

[...] Read more

song performed by Ginuwine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Skeletons

Skeletons in your closet
Itchin to come outside
Messin with your conscience
In a way your face cant hide
Oh things are gettin real funky
Down at the old corral
And its not the skunks that are stinkin
Its the stinkin lies you tell
What did your mama tell you about lies
She said it wasnt polite to tell a white one
What did your daddy tell you about lies
He said one white one turns into a black one
So, its gettin ready to blow
Its gettin ready to show
Somebody shot off at the mouth and
Were gettin ready to know
Its gettin ready to drop
Its gettin ready to shock
Somebody done turned up the heater
Ana its gettin ready to pop
Crevices in your pantry
Now what do we have in here
Havin a daytime nightmare
Has always been your biggest fear
Oh things are gettin real crucial
Up the old wazoo
Yet you cry, why am I the victim?
When the culprits y-o-u
What did your mama tell you about lies
She said it wasnt polite to tell a white one
What did your daddy tell you about lies
He said one white one turns into a black one
So, its gettin ready to blow
Its gettin ready to show
Somebody shot off at the mouth and
Were gettin ready to know
Its gettin ready to drop
Its gettin ready to shock
Somebody done turned up the heater
Ana its gettin ready to pop
Its gettin ready to seep
Youre gettin ready to freak
Somebody done picked up the talk box
Were gettin ready to speak
Its gettin ready to jive
Youre gettin ready to gel
Somebody done gone let the lid off
Were gettin ready to smell
Theyre gettin ready to deal
Youre gettin ready to ill

[...] Read more

song performed by Stevie Wonder
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Magnetic

Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic...
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful

song performed by Yello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Magnetic

Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic...
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful
Magnetic, energetic
and beautiful

song performed by Yello
Added by Lucian Velea
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London

Through the satellites, I fight with you
That loca l brew is spillin
I know just how you spend your time
I want to get my hands on him
Somebodys party in a london flat
Youre where its at and I know
You want to see me lose my mind
Im tired of chasing after you
The residue is jealous
See me on the d ark side of your mind
I want to get my hands on him
To a club thats pounding in the london rain
The world could end we wouldnt hear it
I know just whats on your mind
I see the way your face has changed
Were no good for each other
You tricked me into coming here
So let go, I dont want to go to london
I told you I dont care
I dont want to go to london
To live there
I dont want to go to london
All your friends afflicted
I dont want to go to london
Shes addicted
I saw you with h im
I know where youve been
That nose is broken wide open
Your way has got me out of line
I want to get my hands on him
You so... to make me
Prove it takes a fight to move you
I know just whats on your mind
Its been this way a thousand years
We torture each other
So why the helld you call me here
When you know
I dont want to go to london
I told you I dont care
I dont want to go to london
Live there
I dont want to go to london
All your friends afflicted
I dont want to go to london
Shes addicted
I dont want to go to london
I told you I dont care
I dont want to go to london
Cause youre not there
I dont want to go to london

[...] Read more

song performed by Third Eye Blind
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Calm

Brothers, have you observed the calm?
Even the leaves of that symbolic palm
That denotes peace, political and otherwise, are scarcely stirred
By the faintest breath of controversy. Not a word
Is heard,
Excepting, here and there, the belated spouting
Of some overcharged politician giving his vocabulary an outing.
Brothers, what does this denote?
Is there no longer any competition for your precious vote?
Nay, have you ever heard that alleged political axiom over which the
wily old campaigners oft make goodly sport:
'The memory of the sap-headed elector is short.'
Do you believe the allegation, brothers, or do you doubt it?
And, anyhow, what are you going to do about it?

Brothers, if ever you hope to know enough to come in out of the wet,
Mark this: They are giving you time to forget!
What of those great National Questions,
Those fine, broad, far-seeing and statesman-like suggestions,
Those urgent matters of life and death,
About which the politicians were so busy talking a while ago that they
had hardly time to draw breath?
Are they dead?
Have they been fatally bashed on the head?
Have they been decently interred attended by those solemn obsequies
usually afforded the remains of respectable and right-thinking
persons who impressed us in this life with their top-hats?
Rats!
What of the settlement of the Northern Territory?
Is this an abandoned story?
What of our sea defence?
Has this question been cast hence
Into the outer darkness and the gloom
Of the tomb?
What of efficient Protection?
Is this now merely a matter for maundering retrospection.
Amongst senile and toothless old parties whose minds ever dwell amongst
the dead and mouldy things of the past?
Oh, Blast, brothers! BLAST!
Blast those rocks of apathy that bind your sense of true citizenship!
Get a fresh grip.
Spring off your tall!
Give your political perspicaciousness a ball,
Revive it with a long, cool, refreshing drink,
And sit down and THINK....

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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IV. Tertium Quid

True, Excellency—as his Highness says,
Though she's not dead yet, she's as good as stretched
Symmetrical beside the other two;
Though he's not judged yet, he's the same as judged,
So do the facts abound and superabound:
And nothing hinders that we lift the case
Out of the shade into the shine, allow
Qualified persons to pronounce at last,
Nay, edge in an authoritative word
Between this rabble's-brabble of dolts and fools
Who make up reasonless unreasoning Rome.
"Now for the Trial!" they roar: "the Trial to test
"The truth, weigh husband and weigh wife alike
"I' the scales of law, make one scale kick the beam!"
Law's a machine from which, to please the mob,
Truth the divinity must needs descend
And clear things at the play's fifth act—aha!
Hammer into their noddles who was who
And what was what. I tell the simpletons
"Could law be competent to such a feat
"'T were done already: what begins next week
"Is end o' the Trial, last link of a chain
"Whereof the first was forged three years ago
"When law addressed herself to set wrong right,
"And proved so slow in taking the first step
"That ever some new grievance,—tort, retort,
"On one or the other side,—o'ertook i' the game,
"Retarded sentence, till this deed of death
"Is thrown in, as it were, last bale to boat
"Crammed to the edge with cargo—or passengers?
"'Trecentos inseris: ohe, jam satis est!
"'Huc appelle!'—passengers, the word must be."
Long since, the boat was loaded to my eyes.
To hear the rabble and brabble, you'd call the case
Fused and confused past human finding out.
One calls the square round, t' other the round square—
And pardonably in that first surprise
O' the blood that fell and splashed the diagram:
But now we've used our eyes to the violent hue
Can't we look through the crimson and trace lines?
It makes a man despair of history,
Eusebius and the established fact—fig's end!
Oh, give the fools their Trial, rattle away
With the leash of lawyers, two on either side—
One barks, one bites,—Masters Arcangeli
And Spreti,—that's the husband's ultimate hope
Against the Fisc and the other kind of Fisc,
Bound to do barking for the wife: bow—wow!
Why, Excellency, we and his Highness here
Would settle the matter as sufficiently

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Third Book

'TO-DAY thou girdest up thy loins thyself,
And goest where thou wouldest: presently
Others shall gird thee,' said the Lord, 'to go
Where thou would'st not.' He spoke to Peter thus,
To signify the death which he should die
When crucified head downwards.
If He spoke
To Peter then, He speaks to us the same;
The word suits many different martyrdoms,
And signifies a multiform of death,
Although we scarcely die apostles, we,
And have mislaid the keys of heaven and earth.

For tis not in mere death that men die most;
And, after our first girding of the loins
In youth's fine linen and fair broidery,
To run up hill and meet the rising sun,
We are apt to sit tired, patient as a fool,
While others gird us with the violent bands
Of social figments, feints, and formalisms,
Reversing our straight nature, lifting up
Our base needs, keeping down our lofty thoughts,
Head downward on the cross-sticks of the world.
Yet He can pluck us from the shameful cross.
God, set our feet low and our forehead high,
And show us how a man was made to walk!

Leave the lamp, Susan, and go up to bed.
The room does very well; I have to write
Beyond the stroke of midnight. Get away;
Your steps, for ever buzzing in the room,
Tease me like gnats. Ah, letters! throw them down
At once, as I must have them, to be sure,
Whether I bid you never bring me such
At such an hour, or bid you. No excuse.
You choose to bring them, as I choose perhaps
To throw them in the fire. Now, get to bed,
And dream, if possible, I am not cross.

Why what a pettish, petty thing I grow,–
A mere, mere woman,–a mere flaccid nerve,-
A kerchief left out all night in the rain,
Turned soft so,–overtasked and overstrained
And overlived in this close London life!
And yet I should be stronger.
Never burn
Your letters, poor Aurora! for they stare
With red seals from the table, saying each,
'Here's something that you know not.' Out alas,
'Tis scarcely that the world's more good and wise

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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Fable For Critics

Phoebus, sitting one day in a laurel-tree's shade,
Was reminded of Daphne, of whom it was made,
For the god being one day too warm in his wooing,
She took to the tree to escape his pursuing;
Be the cause what it might, from his offers she shrunk,
And, Ginevra-like, shut herself up in a trunk;
And, though 'twas a step into which he had driven her,
He somehow or other had never forgiven her;
Her memory he nursed as a kind of a tonic,
Something bitter to chew when he'd play the Byronic,
And I can't count the obstinate nymphs that he brought over
By a strange kind of smile he put on when he thought of her.
'My case is like Dido's,' he sometimes remarked;
'When I last saw my love, she was fairly embarked
In a laurel, as _she_ thought-but (ah, how Fate mocks!)
She has found it by this time a very bad box;
Let hunters from me take this saw when they need it,-
You're not always sure of your game when you've treed it.
Just conceive such a change taking place in one's mistress!
What romance would be left?-who can flatter or kiss trees?
And, for mercy's sake, how could one keep up a dialogue
With a dull wooden thing that will live and will die a log,-
Not to say that the thought would forever intrude
That you've less chance to win her the more she is wood?
Ah! it went to my heart, and the memory still grieves,
To see those loved graces all taking their leaves;
Those charms beyond speech, so enchanting but now,
As they left me forever, each making its bough!
If her tongue _had_ a tang sometimes more than was right,
Her new bark is worse than ten times her old bite.'

Now, Daphne-before she was happily treeified-
Over all other blossoms the lily had deified,
And when she expected the god on a visit
('Twas before he had made his intentions explicit),
Some buds she arranged with a vast deal of care,
To look as if artlessly twined in her hair,
Where they seemed, as he said, when he paid his addresses,
Like the day breaking through, the long night of her tresses;
So whenever he wished to be quite irresistible,
Like a man with eight trumps in his hand at a whist-table
(I feared me at first that the rhyme was untwistable,
Though I might have lugged in an allusion to Cristabel),-
He would take up a lily, and gloomily look in it,
As I shall at the--, when they cut up my book in it.

Well, here, after all the bad rhyme I've been spinning,
I've got back at last to my story's beginning:
Sitting there, as I say, in the shade of his mistress,
As dull as a volume of old Chester mysteries,

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poem by James Russell Lowell
Added by Poetry Lover
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