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Of course I'd have loved to be Prime Minister. But I'm not nursing a grievance.

quote by Kenneth Clarke
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Loved

Loved
Written by Ricky Wilde & Terry Ronald
Take all your goodness and shiness away
I'll tell you the things I've been longing to say
I'll break it to you just so you understand
The force and control that you hold in your hands
Make me the beat of your heart
Then fall into mine
One step at a time
You have no reason for doubting your feelings
Love isn't always the same
You are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
You are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
(Ooh you are loved)
Live for the moment according to you
And so when the time comes you know what to do
Trust me, I'm giving no secret away
I'm drowning in you but I want it that way
Make me the beat of your heart
Then fall into mine
One step at a time
You have no reason for doubting your feelings
Love isn't always the same
You are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
You are loved
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
You are loved
(Ooh you are loved)
You are loved
You are loved
You I love
You
You are loved
(Ooh you are loved)
You are loved

[...] Read more

song performed by Kim Wilde
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Hold On Lynette The Horses Are Coming

Lynette was a beautiful baby
A true joy to her ma and pa
Free from oriningal sin she was
The whole family was in awe

She was loved loved loved
She was loved loved loved

One day she woke with fever
There was snow and wind and cold
The car was stuck at the end of the drive
To the doctor they could not go

She was loved loved loved
She was loved loved loved

Quick hook-up the team and the sleigh
By horse she'll surely make it
Hold on Lynette the horses are coming
Let's take some time to say how much we love you

She was loved loved loved
She was loved loved loved

Manes a flyin' tales a whippin'
The horse's plowed right through
Muscles a bulgin' and hides a sweating
Let's take some time to say how much we love you

She was loved loved loved
She was loved loved loved

Well by horse they surely made it
By horse they surely did
Just in time to tell them
There was nothing they could do for her

She was loved loved loved
She was loved loved loved
She was loved loved loved
She was loved loved loved

Well, for all those ma's and pa's out there
Who've lost their little ones
This songs not about a child dying
It's of a parent's love

One day on earth is just the same
as one year or fifty or a hundred
The only difference my friends

[...] Read more

poem by Atty Davis
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Recollection of the Arabian Nights

WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free
In the silken sail of infancy,
The tide of time flow'd back with me,
The forward-flowing tide of time;
And many a sheeny summer-morn,
Adown the Tigris I was borne,
By Bagdat's shrines of fretted gold,
High-walled gardens green and old;
True Mussulman was I and sworn,
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid.

Anight my shallop, rustling thro'
The low and bloomed foliage, drove
The fragrant, glistening deeps, and clove
The citron-shadows in the blue:
By garden porches on the brim,
The costly doors flung open wide,
Gold glittering thro' lamplight dim,
And broider'd sofas on each side:
In sooth it was a goodly time,
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid.

Often where clear-stemm'd platans guard
The outlet, did I turn away
The boat-head down a broad canal
From the main river sluiced, where all
The sloping of the moon-lit sward
Was damask-work, and deep inlay
Of braided blooms unmown, which crept
Adown to where the water slept.
A goodly place, a goodly time,
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid.

A motion from the river won
Ridged the smooth level, bearing on
My shallop thro' the star-strown calm,
Until another night in night
I enter'd, from the clearer light,
Imbower'd vaults of pillar'd palm,
Imprisoning sweets, which, as they clomb
Heavenward, were stay'd beneath the dome
Of hollow boughs.--A goodly time,
For it was in the golden prime
Of good Haroun Alraschid.

Still onward; and the clear canal
Is rounded to as clear a lake.

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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LYRIC-LUTE [3] / by Dr. Mahendra Bhatnagar

[1] SING

Sing; so that life a lyric may become!

Man is helpless at each step,
Each silvery love-dream is shattered,
Sunken in sea of tears
The sun of hope is far, far away,
Sing, so that each particle a friend may become!

Surrounded on all sides is darkness dense
Hurt is each heart, full of pain,
Shall mute cover of troubles life-long
For ever remain thus overhead?
Sing, that defeat victory may become!

Breath is overcast with helplessness-suffocation,
Smoldering is life smarting-burning fed,
Full of poisonous dense-dust particles
Is sky of man’s wishes,
Sing, so that suffering a music may become!

 

[2] A WISH

Let life flow freely,
Let it lead to victory!

Let each one find solace
Under the tree-shade of blessings!

Let there be songs played day and night
On the harp of the soul!

Let sweet dreams ever come
And bring pleasure and laughter!

Let no one be sad
Let laughter ring!

Let each man become gold
Made pure in the inner fire!

Let each one bear bravely
The knocks of the unknown fate!
 
[3] WHO ARE YOU

Who are you long-lost in waiting,

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Lilis Address

Puff we now ourselves with pride
Swelling outward far and wide
For God herself is on our side
With heavens plan for the motherland
All right, all right ladies,
Settle down now, settle down
Now, the usual formalities
Everyone, hold all your questions please
Youll all have your opportunities to
Shoot the breeze or cut the cheese
But upon this juncture I must state
How immensely you appreciate
The illusion of grandeur I create
When every trait I overrate
And every word gesticulate
In praise of the motherland
Puff we now ourselves with pride
Swelling outward far and wide
For God herself is on our side
With heavens plan for the motherland
Quiet please, quiet, Im still speaking
Irregardless of to what we pledge
The electorate gives me the edge
And the boost to my ego that cant be measured
Ruling you is such a pleasure
Speaking of good taste in dames
I submit to you my list of names
Maybe some of them come up short on brains
But good at diplomatic games
And sycophantic without shame
I give you the cabinet
The privilege is strictly ours
To have you watch while we devour
The crumbs of presidential power
That we can grub from lilly
Shes got the wardrobe we adore
Her teeth are perfect, what is more
She knows what having friends is for
Were silly over lilly,
Silly over lilly
til were ill, well sing it shrilly
Lilly is the nations pride
And we love her like a mother
You like me, you like me
You dont know what this means to me
To be the one you run to see when
You need a mother
All right, I feel good
Im a [partridge? ]
Im ready to take you all on

[...] Read more

song performed by Utopia
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Nursing Home

The moat in my eyes never bring me no sleep
They just strap me inside with the demons I keep
Gotta leave me alone gotta let it be lone
Tired of living, too tired to die
Makes the sharks keep swimming when he dont know why
Gotta get the lean fin
Only thin that he wears
Nursing me to the movie that he shows
Nursing me to the bureau and the ?
Nursing me cant you leave me alone?
Nursing me in a nursing home
Sleeping and working and an old man
Come just to profit my feet with a broken old hose
Stop riding those rails
Stop setting those sails
He likes (boom boogie ? ? )
Hes got an old trombone
While hes laughing at the fires with a broken beat phone
Got a troubled soul
But hes not that cold
(chorus)
Ive been nursed ten years in a nursing home!
Stinking on water I could use me food
He needed big fat gravy on the wake of pot roast
Got a fire inside
Its gonna burn him alive
Talking and struggle till the roof is blown
Got a bed and three squares in a nursing home
Gonna say bye-bye
Hes gonna walk on by

song performed by Ministry
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Prime Time

Cavalier roses, but the thorns got in my soul
Chocolate box intention, but a bitter taste left me cold
Take a little something, a present clouds the past
Traded our emotions, it couldnt last, wouldnt last at all
And though you didnt say
I knew youd swim away
Fine time for hook and line
And though whats done is done, yeah
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down!
Bitter suite decision, sofa so good the day we met
Eye for eye collision, pillow talking, only pillow talking
Matinee romancing, the bait is set, the net is cast
Cheated our emotions, it couldnt last
Wouldnt last at all
Although you didnt say
I knew youd swim away
Prime time for hook and line
And though whats done is done
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down!
And words are words thats all
Im going to stand or fall
Prime time for hook and line
Dont you swim away...
Prime time for the hook and line
Prime time for the hook and line
For the hook, the hook and line
Although you didnt say, yeah
I knew youd swim away
Prime time for hook and line
And though whats done is done, yeah
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down
Line by line adventure
A prime time for the hook and line
Castaway in pleasure
A prime time
Curtain razor tension
A prime time for the hook and line
Wasted our emotions
A prime time

song performed by Haircut 100
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Three Women

My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.

Young is her cheek and her throat;
Her eyes have the smile o' May.
And love is the word for each note
In the song of my life to-day.

Her eyes have the smile o' May;
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
And the song of my life to-day
Is love, beautiful love.

Her heart is the heart of a dove,
Ah, would it but fly to my breast
Where love, beautiful love,
Has made it a downy nest.

Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
My love who is young, so young;
I have made her a downy nest
And life is a song to be sung.

1
I.
A dull little station, a man with the eye
Of a dreamer; a bevy of girls moving by;
A swift moving train and a hot Summer sun,
The curtain goes up, and our play is begun.
The drama of passion, of sorrow, of strife,
Which always is billed for the theatre Life.
It runs on forever, from year unto year,
With scarcely a change when new actors appear.
It is old as the world is-far older in truth,
For the world is a crude little planet of youth.
And back in the eras before it was formed,
The passions of hearts through the Universe stormed.

Maurice Somerville passed the cluster of girls
Who twisted their ribbons and fluttered their curls
In vain to attract him; his mind it was plain
Was wholly intent on the incoming train.
That great one eyed monster puffed out its black breath,
Shrieked, snorted and hissed, like a thing bent on death,

[...] Read more

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Canto the Fourth

I.

I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter’s wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O’er the far times when many a subject land
Looked to the wingèd Lion’s marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, throned on her hundred isles!

II.

She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Poured in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she robed, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deemed their dignity increased.

III.

In Venice, Tasso’s echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone - but beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade - but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

IV.

But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city’s vanished sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away -
The keystones of the arch! though all were o’er,
For us repeopled were the solitary shore.

V.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Childe Harold's Pilgrimage (1818)
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Better Off Dead

(rod stewart / chen, savigar, cregan, grainger, appice)
Call the girls and dress up fine
Tonight I felt like suicide
Roll them dice and pour the wine
Shuffle them cards and deal them fine
Got nobody to kiss tonight
Nothing to lose but my appetite
Wanna be silly and sing and shout
Gotta get legless and fall about
Turn the music up nice and loud
Cheer me up dont bring me down
Gonna lose my job next week
Getting replaced by a silicone chip
I might have been a hero
But I chose to stay in bed
I might have been prime minister
But right now honey Im better off dead
I might have been a hero
But I chose to stay in bed
I might have been prime minister
But right now honey Im better off dead
Dont like the scenery dont like the set
Tear it all down and start again
Man keeps talking on the radio
Telling me what I dont wanna know
Radiation wars and layatril
If tax dont get ya then cancer will
I might have been a hero
But I chose to stay in bed
I might have been prime minister
But right now honey Im better off dead
I might have been a hero
But I chose to stay in bed
I might have been prime minister
But right now honey Im better off dead
Better off dead, better off dead
Better off dead, better off dead

song performed by Rod Stewart
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The Victories Of Love. Book I

I
From Frederick Graham

Mother, I smile at your alarms!
I own, indeed, my Cousin's charms,
But, like all nursery maladies,
Love is not badly taken twice.
Have you forgotten Charlotte Hayes,
My playmate in the pleasant days
At Knatchley, and her sister, Anne,
The twins, so made on the same plan,
That one wore blue, the other white,
To mark them to their father's sight;
And how, at Knatchley harvesting,
You bade me kiss her in the ring,
Like Anne and all the others? You,
That never of my sickness knew,
Will laugh, yet had I the disease,
And gravely, if the signs are these:

As, ere the Spring has any power,
The almond branch all turns to flower,
Though not a leaf is out, so she
The bloom of life provoked in me;
And, hard till then and selfish, I
Was thenceforth nought but sanctity
And service: life was mere delight
In being wholly good and right,
As she was; just, without a slur;
Honouring myself no less than her;
Obeying, in the loneliest place,
Ev'n to the slightest gesture, grace
Assured that one so fair, so true,
He only served that was so too.
For me, hence weak towards the weak,
No more the unnested blackbird's shriek
Startled the light-leaved wood; on high
Wander'd the gadding butterfly,
Unscared by my flung cap; the bee,
Rifling the hollyhock in glee,
Was no more trapp'd with his own flower,
And for his honey slain. Her power,
From great things even to the grass
Through which the unfenced footways pass,
Was law, and that which keeps the law,
Cherubic gaiety and awe;
Day was her doing, and the lark
Had reason for his song; the dark
In anagram innumerous spelt
Her name with stars that throbb'd and felt;

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
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Ode 300: Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!

From: Book of Ode
Period: Spring and Autumn
Dynasty: Eastern Zhou
Section: Songs of Wei State
(Collected by Confucius)
Translated by Laijon Liu (2007.08.14)

Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
Your great lights shining upon earth.
But I have never seen such man,
Who forgot his home and course.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
And why he refuses to come into my room?

Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
Your great lights shining upon earth.
But I have never seen such man,
Who forgot my love and grace.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
Why he leaves me alone in my empty room?

Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
Your great lights shining upon earth.
But I have never seen such man,
Who lost his honor and Heaven’s bliss.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
And I should forget him, away with sorrow.

Sun and moon, listen to my grievance!
You rise from east with shining rays.
Ah- my daddy and my mommy,
My husband loves me no more.
He keeps not vow of husband and wife,
And I will not suffer in sorrow any more!

Note:
The poet may be a young and just married wife lived in State of Wei. She complained about her husband that stopped loving her. And she eventually thinks wisely that “Anyway he does not keep his vow, so she gives up her sorrow, or maybe seeks a new beginning.”

From:
http: //laijonliu.blogspot.com/

poem by Laijon Liu
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Ninth Book

EVEN thus. I pause to write it out at length,
The letter of the Lady Waldemar.–

'I prayed your cousin Leigh to take you this,
He says he'll do it. After years of love,
Or what is called so,–when a woman frets
And fools upon one string of a man's name,
And fingers it for ever till it breaks,–
He may perhaps do for her such thing,
And she accept it without detriment
Although she should not love him any more
And I, who do not love him, nor love you,
Nor you, Aurora,–choose you shall repent
Your most ungracious letter, and confess,
Constrained by his convictions, (he's convinced)
You've wronged me foully. Are you made so ill,
You woman–to impute such ill to me?
We both had mothers,–lay in their bosom once.
Why, after all, I thank you, Aurora Leigh,
For proving to myself that there are things
I would not do, . . not for my life . . nor him . .
Though something I have somewhat overdone,–
For instance, when I went to see the gods
One morning, on Olympus, with a step
That shook the thunder in a certain cloud,
Committing myself vilely. Could I think,
The Muse I pulled my heart out from my breast
To soften, had herself a sort of heart,
And loved my mortal? He, at least, loved her;
I heard him say so; 'twas my recompence,
When, watching at his bedside fourteen days,
He broke out ever like a flame at whiles
Between the heats of fever . . . 'Is it thou?
'Breathe closer, sweetest mouth!' and when at last
The fever gone, the wasted face extinct
As if it irked him much to know me there,
He said, Twas kind, 'twas good, 'twas womanly,'
(And fifty praises to excuse one love)
'But was the picture safe he had ventured for?'
And then, half wandering . . 'I have loved her well,
Although she could not love me.'–'Say instead,'
I answered, 'that she loves you.'–'Twas my turn
To rave: (I would have married him so changed,
Although the world had jeered me properly
For taking up with Cupid at his worst,
The silver quiver worn off on his hair.)
'No, no,' he murmured, 'no, she loves me not;
'Aurora Leigh does better: bring her book
'And read it softly, Lady Waldemar,
'Until I thank your friendship more for that,

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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I Wanna Be Loved By You

I wanna be loved by you
I wanna be loved by you
Hi, Im danny, and Im a taurus,
And I wanna be loved by you.
Do you wanna be loved by me?
If you do, check this out.
Aaaaah....
Sounds good to you, dont it?
Oh baby, I just got to let you know
I wanna be loved by you
I wanna be loved by you
Im jon, and Im a sagittarius
And I really, really wanna be loved by only you
And I want you to only love me too.
And if this is the way its gonna be, girl, then check me out
I wanna be loved by you, baby
I wanna be loved by you
I wanna be loved by you
Yeah, I know, I know, Im young....
I might be young, but Im not too young to let you know how I feel.
Im joe, and Im a capricorn.
And if you can relate to that, then check this out.
Oh, girl, I wanna be loved, loved by you baby
I wanna be loved by you
I wanna be loved by you
Im donnie, a loveable leo
And rather than tell you how I feel, Im gonna sing it for you, baby
I wanna be loved by you girl
I wanna take you by the hand and make you understand
I wanna be loved by you
I wanna be loved by you
Well, I guess they saved the best for last
Im jordan, and Im a taurus
And if you think you know everything about me, then check this out
I wanna be loved by you baby, by you baby
I wanna be loved by you
I wanna be loved by you

song performed by New Kids On The Block
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Epistle to an Orphan after William Mackworth Praed A Letter of Advice

They tell me you're promised a mother,
to cuddle, to cosset, to care.
Take care for she may try to smother,
to cover her inner despair.
The experts agree that another
could just as well clinch the affair, -
and beware that you never discover
the father who's no longer there.

(Parody William Mackworth PRAED - A Letter 31 October 1990)

A Letter to PH from a Disappointed Writer

Dear PH, I leave you this letter
after writing from ten until nine
for a site I'd delight to know better,
for a smile that my heart can't decline.
Yet one finds after wearily pacing,
for replies in the cold, for some sign,
that that heart which with hope had been racing
to darkest despair must incline.

Dear PH from twelve to eleven
each night I would knock at your door
in hope that an angel from heaven
could show me the light, - but no more
will I screed in my need if no answer
effective can echo joy's store -
I can't act as a puppet-stringed dancer,
not even for one I adore!

Dear PH the time have I waited
day in and day out by grief torn,
all write up down written, ill-fated
as my consonants vowed my vowels scorn.
The wonder my dunderhead brought you
tonight may steal thunder at morn,
but the blossoms whose beauty besought you
fade as fast as last season's drenched corn.

As on Thursday applauseless, defeated,
so on Friday all clauseless I'm spurned,
is the cycle of love thus completed,
is this all the thanks that I've earned?
It is hard for a fool to be taken -
its a sign that one's soft in the head, -
but the reason that slept must awaken,
and the spirit, restored, won't be lead!

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Movement Vi - Work

(mary dees office)
Womens chorus (office staff)
Working women at the top,
Will it ever stop?
Papers piling up and up.
Days go by like monday, tuesday:
Work until we drop!
All the time looking great,
Running late,
In a state, losing weight,
Running late again
And again.
Mary dee
Let me have the letter that you typed up yesterday.
Did mr. fisher send the fax to la?
Make sure the flowers dont arrive too late
And cancel my appointment at the squash club.
Womens chorus
What club?
Mary dee
Squash club.
Womens chorus
Working women on the go,
Will they ever know
What it takes to run the show?
Days go by like lightning,
Will it ever slow?
Half the time feeling dead,
Over-fed,
Aching head,
Miss my bed.
Over-fed again and again.
Mary dee
Did they ever pick up the accountants resume?
Make sure the car arrives in time for the plane.
Get me the details of the takeover bid
And write another letter to the minister.
Womens chorus
Minister?
Mary dee
The minister of love.
Womens chorus
Love.
(la)
Mary dee
Wheres the time for standing still?
Womens chorus
Holding hands and walking free.
Mary dee
Wheres the time for you...

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song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Columbiad: Book I

The Argument

Natives of America appear in vision. Their manners and characters. Columbus demands the cause of the dissimilarity of men in different countries, Hesper replies, That the human body is composed of a due proportion of the elements suited to the place of its first formation; that these elements, differently proportioned, produce all the changes of health, sickness, growth and decay; and may likewise produce any other changes which occasion the diversity of men; that these elemental proportions are varied, not more by climate than temperature and other local circumstances; that the mind is likewise in a state of change, and will take its physical character from the body and from external objects: examples. Inquiry concerning the first peopling of America. View of Mexico. Its destruction by Cortez. View of Cusco and Quito, cities of Peru. Tradition of Capac and Oella, founders of the Peruvian empire. Columbus inquires into their real history. Hesper gives an account of their origin, and relates the stratagems they used in establishing that empire.

I sing the Mariner who first unfurl'd
An eastern banner o'er the western world,
And taught mankind where future empires lay
In these fair confines of descending day;
Who sway'd a moment, with vicarious power,
Iberia's sceptre on the new found shore,
Then saw the paths his virtuous steps had trod
Pursued by avarice and defiled with blood,
The tribes he foster'd with paternal toil
Snatch'd from his hand, and slaughter'd for their spoil.

Slaves, kings, adventurers, envious of his name,
Enjoy'd his labours and purloin'd his fame,
And gave the Viceroy, from his high seat hurl'd.
Chains for a crown, a prison for a world
Long overwhelm'd in woes, and sickening there,
He met the slow still march of black despair,
Sought the last refuge from his hopeless doom,
And wish'd from thankless men a peaceful tomb:
Till vision'd ages, opening on his eyes,
Cheer'd his sad soul, and bade new nations rise;
He saw the Atlantic heaven with light o'ercast,
And Freedom crown his glorious work at last.

Almighty Freedom! give my venturous song
The force, the charm that to thy voice belong;
Tis thine to shape my course, to light my way,
To nerve my country with the patriot lay,
To teach all men where all their interest lies,
How rulers may be just and nations wise:
Strong in thy strength I bend no suppliant knee,
Invoke no miracle, no Muse but thee.

Night held on old Castile her silent reign,
Her half orb'd moon declining to the main;
O'er Valladolid's regal turrets hazed
The drizzly fogs from dull Pisuerga raised;
Whose hovering sheets, along the welkin driven,
Thinn'd the pale stars, and shut the eye from heaven.
Cold-hearted Ferdinand his pillow prest,
Nor dream'd of those his mandates robb'd of rest,
Of him who gemm'd his crown, who stretch'd his reign
To realms that weigh'd the tenfold poise of Spain;
Who now beneath his tower indungeon'd lies,
Sweats the chill sod and breathes inclement skies.

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poem by Joel Barlow
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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,

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