Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no fibs.
quote by Oliver Goldsmith
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I'll Do My Best To Deliver
Ask me for what you want.
Just ask me,
Ask me.
And make it anything,
You need...
From me.
Ask me for what you want.
Ask me for what you need,
And I'll do my best to deliver.
Ask me.
Just ask me.
Ask me for what you want.
Just ask me.
Ask me.
Ask me for anything,
And I will fullfill...
That need.
Ask me for what you want.
Ask me for what you need,
And I'll do my best to deliver.
Ask me.
Just ask me.
And I'll do my best to deliver.
Ask me.
Just ask me.
Oh ask me for what you want.
Ask me for what you need,
And I'll do my best to deliver.
Ask me.
Just ask me.
And I will do my best to deliver.
Ask me.
Just ask me.
And I'll do my best to deliver.
Ask me.
Just ask me.
And I will do my best to deliver.
Just ask me for what you want.
Just ask me for what you need,
And I will do my best to deliver.
Come thunderstorms, rain or shine...
That pressure you have will be taken right off your mind.
I will do my best to deliver.
Just ask me...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Y
Don't ask us Y!
We do the things that we do
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
Life can be so damn cruel
Don't ask us Y!
It's all been decided for you
Pure soul first breath is filled with sin
A young child just born quit suffering
A mother's greed, get high, chasin' ghosts again
This will happen over and over again!
Don't ask us Y!
We do the things that we do
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
Life can be so damn cruel
Don't ask us Y!
It's all been decided for you
I look into your eyes, I feel your pain, life's insane
I'm gonna do my best to try again and live again
I know we're all the same, we live our lives it's like a game
And still we do it over and over again!
Don't ask us Y!
We do the things that we do
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
Life can be so damn cruel
Don't ask us Y!
It's all been decided for you
First communion done, now your life has just begun
Second plot the whole world is looking with a gun
Another child will do it when he's on the run
The vicious circle of life has just begun!
Don't ask us Y!
We do the things that we do!
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you!
Don't ask us Y!
Life can be sooo cruel!
Don't ask us Y!
It's all been decided for you!
Don't ask us Y!
We feel the same as you
Don't ask us Y!
Life can be so damn cruel
Don't ask us Y!
It's all been decided for you
[...] Read more
song performed by Zug Izland
Added by Lucian Velea
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Always Asking Questions
We all want peace we dont want misery
So many of us wont let us be these things
But we only are confused
We feel stronger as we grow older
But still we feel bemused
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
And the temptation is to just step back
Well we give what we lack
We will always be asking questions
Why rich?
Why poor?
Always asking questions
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Were always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking
Dont stop asking
Dont stop asking questions
Always asking questions
In answer to this question is just shut up
You dont know
I dont know
Nobody knows
This is an answer to every question
This is a place to begin
Always asking questions
Always asking questions
Why this?
Why that?
Why this?
Why that?
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Always asking questions
(why this why that? )
Words: william bryant
Music: howard jones
song performed by Howard Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Framed With Lies
Frame me with your lying lies,
in the end you’ll have to hide.
Hide your face and all its fibs,
fibs are the only thing you can give.
Fibs built on arrogance and false pride,
built on rubbery walls that start to collide.
Collide into total oblivion,
that is where you will be in the end.
With no real friends except your lies,
lies that frame you on both sides.
Written by Christina Sunrise on September 12,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.christinasunrise.com
www.suzaechevalier.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Ask
This is our new single ...
Ask !
Shyness is nice, and
Shyness can stop you
From doing all the things in life
That you'd like to
Shyness is nice, and
Shyness can stop you
From doing all the things in life
That you'd like to
So, if there's something you'd like to try
If there's something you'd like to try
Ask me - i won't say "no" - how could i ?
Coyness is nice, and
Coyness can stop you
From doing all the things in
Life that you want to
So, if there's something you'd like to try
If there's something you'd like to try
Ask me - i won't say "no" - how could i ?
Spending warm summer days indoors
Writing frightening verse
To a buck-toothed girl in luxembourg
Ask me, ask me, ask me
Ask me, ask me, ask me
Because if it's not love
Then it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb
That will bring us together
Nature is a language - can't you read ?
Nature is a language - can anybody read ?
So ... ask me, ask me, ask me
Ask me, ask me, ask me
Because if it's not love
Then it's the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb, the bomb
That will bring us together
If it's not love
Then it's the bomb
Then it's the bomb
That will bring us together
So ... ask me, ask me, ask me
Ask me, ask me, ask me
Oh, la ...
song performed by Smiths
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ancestral Woman
I was never child
My maternal granny called me an old, old soul
I seen time come and go
I gave birth to giving birth
Ain’t nothin I don’t know
The sun is my shade I pull it down to allow darkness and light
To give birth to the same day, the eternal now
Then, you ask me, as woman
Then, you ask me, as a colored woman
Then, you ask me, as a female
Then, you ask me, as a black female
Then, you ask me, as a Mother
Then, you ask me, as the epitome of androgeny
What is my contribution, evolution ain’t as old
I been in the grave, beyond the grave
I been the grave, I had to brave the newness of oldness
I remember when silence was communication
Being blind the revelation
Not knowing the greatest education
Nothingness the only information
I am the past, my innateness the futre
My being the immediate now
I am the ancient androgenous embryo
I render gender apropos
I survived domestice violence and sexual abuse
Being told I am of no use
Cause I won’t accept yo validation
As my self-reaization
Then, you ask me, as a woman
Then, you ask me, as a colored woman
Then, you ask me, as a female
Then, you ask me, as a black female
Then, you ask me, as a Mother
Then, you ask me, as the epitome of androgeny
What is my contribution, evolution ain’t as old
I been the grave, beyond the grave
I been the grave, I had to brave the newness of oldness
How does it feel being a Woman
It feels like
I Am all, in all, sustain all, absolutely independent of all
My power never diminishes
[...] Read more
poem by Josephine DixonBanks
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Don't Ask God
Don’t ask God for wisdom lest he give you folly to teach your heart.
Don’t ask God for wealth lest he give you poverty to make you depend on him.
Don’t ask God for vision lest he give you blindness to guide your way.
Don’t ask God for strength lest he give you weakness to sustain you.
Don’t ask God for protection lest he give you adversity, so he can fight for you.
Don’t ask God for progress lest he give you stillness so you can know him.
Don’t ask God for water lest he give you thirst, so you can seek the living water.
Don’t ask God for food lest he give you hunger for righteousness.
Don’t ask God for joy, lest he give you mourning to put your heart on eternity.
Don’t ask God for beauty lest he give you ashes to teach you how to look inward.
Don’t ask God for friends lest he give you enemies so he can be your friend.
Don’t ask God for life lest he give you death to mortify your flesh.
Don’t ask God for crown lest he give you a cross to save your soul.
In pride,
In selfishness,
In haughtiness,
In foolishness
In arrogance,
In self righteousness,
Don’t ask God for anything
Don’t ask God for something
Don’t ask God for everything
Just ask God for God.
Isaac 'Slimx'
November 2008
poem by Isaac 'slimx'
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The Boatman's Crossing!
The boatman is out, crossing the swollen river,
Dips the bamboo staff, churns the frowning waters,
Calling for strength from the still depths, he moves on,
Like children running behind a cart, waves giggle along.
The river asks no questions.
Dark for lies shrouded in curtains of inky black,
Moon just a strained smile, is seized by the clouds crack,
Lovelorn silver edges aglow, puff in pride on the conquest,
Homesick, signaling to each other, stars join in the jest.
The night asks no questions.
Yet to startle darkness, the weakest hour of morn,
Pushing this log of wood, is yet to be born,
Thick as honey, wind flutters leaves in bouts of rage,
Dripping with the scent of hill balsams and lush foliage.
The wind asks no questions.
Heaving branches of blossoms and figs, offer themselves,
In homage to the river, on either banks banyan trees swagger,
Dipping their flowing roots, like an old woman’s tress,
Bait fish; like one throws pebbles in water seeking answers,
The trees ask no questions.
This, a strange journey he makes in the quiet of the morn,
Questions arise in his head, like on the banks- the wayside corn,
To lull them sings, a wailing tune, like in wilderness richotteing nails,
His mother sang, to stall his questions after
her bed-timetales.
The boatman asks no questions.
As they sail by, birds sent aflutter, snigger, trees jeer,
A startled stork from the far-off horizon hollers-All clear,
Drawn by his song, in his trailing nets fishes ensnare,
Like a maiden in panic, the river hastens, after a night’s dare.
The birds ask no questions.
Dawn breaks its garland of flushing colors galore,
A veiled maiden sits at the boat’s far-end, shadows devour
Head bowed, eyes downcast, break not her silence of the night,
Lest she should dropp off like an unopened bud at first light.
poem by Seema joglekar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Ask Me
Amy grant/tom hemby
Copyright 1991 age to age music, inc./edward grant, inc./puxico music (ascap), adm. by reunion music group, inc.
This song is about a girlfriend of mine. if you or someone you love has been a victim of sexual abuse, please dont be afraid to seek help. the sexual abuse helpline is open 24 hours a day, and
Ne who cares is waiting for your call...(800)4a-child
I see her as a little girl hiding in her room
She takes another bath and she sprays her mommas perfume
To try to wipe away the scent he left behind
But it haunts her mind.
You see shes his little rag, nothing more than just a waif
And hes mopping up his need, she is tired and afraid
Maybe shell find a way through these awful years to disappear.
Ask me if I think theres a God up in the heaven
Where did he go in the middle of her shame?
Ask me if I think theres a God up in the heavens
I see no mercy and no one down heres naming names
Nobodys naming names.
Now shes looking in the mirror at a lovely woman face
No more frightened little girl, like shes gone without a trace
Still she leaves the light burning in the hall
Its hard to sleep at all.
Still she crawls up in her bed acting quiet as a mouse
Deep inside shes listening for a creaking in the house
But noones left to harm her, shes finally safe and sound
Theres a peace shes found.
Ask her how she knows theres a God up in the heaven
Where did he go in the middle of her shame?
Ask her how she knows theres a God up in the heavens
She said his mercy is bringing her life again.
Ask me how I know theres a God up in the heaven
(how do you know? )
Where did he go in the middle of her shame
(where did he go? )
Ask me how I know theres a God up in the heavens
(how do you know? )
She said his mercy is bringing her life again
Shes coming to life again.
Hes in the middle of her pain
In the middle of her shame
Mercy brings life
Hes in the middle
Mercy in the middle.
So ask me how I know
Ask me how I know, yeah
Ask me how I know theres a God up in the heaven
(how do you know? )
Ask me how I know theres a God up in the heavens
(how do you know? )
Yeah, ask me how I know
(how do you know? )
Ask me
[...] Read more
song performed by Amy Grant
Added by Lucian Velea
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Instead Of Being A Pessimist
You want answers to your questions?
Ask yourself this...
What began the origin of those questions.
And...
How did they begin for you to exist.
You want a life you like?
Oppose to the one you don't?
Why have you chosen to dislike what you do?
And who enforced this dislike upon you.
Do you live with wishes to fulfill your dreams?
Or are you focused on others,
Who seem to have 'your' things.
Are you focused upon others,
Who seem to be living your life?
Doing those things,
You wish for you also to like?
Perhaps those questions you ask,
Are not yours afterall.
And perhaps those answers,
That have come to you answered...
You ignored them to disbelieve,
Those answers received...
Were not yours.
Because you spend your time,
In the minding of other people's business!
And your business,
You haven't given your time to see...
Succeed.
But your time is spent,
Lamenting others you despise and criticize.
You want answers to your questions?
Wait for therm patiently to come.
Before you impatiently decide,
To get up and leave.
Believing they can be found,
With you not around.
You want answers to your questions?
Ask yourself this...
What began the origin of those questions.
And...
How did they begin for you to exist?
Ask yourself that.
Instead of being a pessimist!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Questions Answered On Need To Know Basis
questions are easy
ask any question
ask questions freely
ask as you wish wisely
ask without hesitation
ask as heart moves each plead
ask as aroused curiosity leads
ask in hope ask in love or need
ask with value until heart bleeds
questions are easy answers hard
poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
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No One Questioned the Reek
When behavior they 'then' expressed,
Was not addressed...
But to some questionable?
Those of responsibility could have stood up,
To the plate.
No one did this.
But many bit down to chew!
And...
Instead,
An appreciation for that was shown.
With a bowing to lower eyes and heads.
Mixed signals were sent.
And deceit and devilment...
Were given carte blanche signals,
Not to slow down with caution...
But to move like blinded bulls,
Charging through halls...
Where precious crystal and china were used.
And no one confused a 'no' with a 'go'!
In fact...
Honors were given.
And some medals bestowed.
Some folks were given carte blanche signals.
For more of this to be exposed.
And it showed.
And they did...go!
Taking 'everything' with them,
To an humongous cellpool!
A deepened hole...
Where rooms were added.
And pretensions glowed!
With a renovation to extend the existing stench.
Guests were invited and asked to adorn masks.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
No one questioned the reek.
It was as if an acceptance grew.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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House Of The Gods
Finally found a place they could never reach
Sipping singha beer on pattaya beach
Singha beer dont ask no questions
Singha beer dont tell no lies
Singha beer dont ask no questions
Singha beer dont tell no lies
Theres a guy next to me wont tell me his name
Buys me mekong whiskey just the same
Singha beer dont ask no questions
Singha beer dont tell no lies
Singha beer dont ask no questions
Singha beer dont tell no lies
Im just a wally
Hanging out on pattaya beach
Im just a wally
Hanging out on pattaya beach
Met a girl said shes really going to blow my mind
She says she dont mean sex and I say alright
Turns out shes a bloke, tries to give me head
I have to run out screaming to the street instead
Shes just a wally
Hanging out on pattaya beach
Im just a wally
Hanging out on pattaya beach
Singha beer dont ask no questions
Singha beer dont tell no lies...
In the house of the gods
Where no mongrels preach
I watched the sun going down
On pattaya beach
Im just a wally
Hanging out on pattaya beach
Im just a wall
Hanging out on pattaya beach
song performed by Pogues
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ask Me How I Feel
Oh Im waiting in the storm ask me how I feel
When things are going wrong why dont you ask me how I feel
The night is awful cold ask me how I feel
Youre much too loose to hold why dont you ask me how I feel
I close my eyes to follow you
To my surprise youre so untrue
And Im crying Im dying
Oh Im waiting in the storm ask me how I feel
When you keep me hanging on why dont you ask me how I feel
The waters run so deep ask me how I feel
When I dont get any sleep why dont you ask me how I feel
And when youre down you lean on me
Youre a fool too blind to see
That Im crying Im dying
Oh Im waiting in the storm why dont you ask me how I feel
What the hell is going on why dont you ask me how I feel
When you stay out late at night ask me how I feel
When you think that Im uptight why dont you ask me how I feel oh
You dont treat me tender no matter what I do
But Im the great pretender woah ho ho ho
Im waiting in the storm ask me how I feel
What the hell is going on
When you stay out late at night you never ask me how I feel
You just say that Im uptight
When youre down I do for you
And now I find that youre untrue
song performed by Tina Turner
Added by Lucian Velea
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Virginia's Story
Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.
She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.
When she was old enough she got married.
First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.
Agnes was my mother.
Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.
Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.
Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.
Anna was a maid and cook.
She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth
They were both good cooks
They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.
My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.
She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.
[...] Read more
poem by Talile Ali
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Second Book
TIMES followed one another. Came a morn
I stood upon the brink of twenty years,
And looked before and after, as I stood
Woman and artist,–either incomplete,
Both credulous of completion. There I held
The whole creation in my little cup,
And smiled with thirsty lips before I drank,
'Good health to you and me, sweet neighbour mine
And all these peoples.'
I was glad, that day;
The June was in me, with its multitudes
Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
And rosebuds reddening where the calyx split.
I felt so young, so strong, so sure of God!
So glad, I could not choose be very wise!
And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull
My childhood backward in a childish jest
To see the face of't once more, and farewell!
In which fantastic mood I bounded forth
At early morning,–would not wait so long
As even to snatch my bonnet by the strings,
But, brushing a green trail across the lawn
With my gown in the dew, took will and way
Among the acacias of the shrubberies,
To fly my fancies in the open air
And keep my birthday, till my aunt awoke
To stop good dreams. Meanwhile I murmured on,
As honeyed bees keep humming to themselves;
'The worthiest poets have remained uncrowned
Till death has bleached their foreheads to the bone,
And so with me it must be, unless I prove
Unworthy of the grand adversity,–
And certainly I would not fail so much.
What, therefore, if I crown myself to-day
In sport, not pride, to learn the feel of it,
Before my brows be numb as Dante's own
To all the tender pricking of such leaves?
Such leaves? what leaves?'
I pulled the branches down,
To choose from.
'Not the bay! I choose no bay;
The fates deny us if we are overbold:
Nor myrtle–which means chiefly love; and love
Is something awful which one dare not touch
So early o' mornings. This verbena strains
The point of passionate fragrance; and hard by,
This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.
Ah–there's my choice,–that ivy on the wall,
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Questions Above
Many questions, seventy times seven, may be asked once in Heaven,
Our thoughts about the patriarchs, one or more questions this sparks,
Or maybe questions about this life, just why so much pain and strife?
Or the things we can't comprehend; may prompt questions in the end.
But with a pure mind and heart, many of those questions shall depart,
This when we enter into Eternal Life, now, with the pure mind of Christ,
Former things remembered no more, as we step on that eternal shore,
With an eternal mindset instead, as past is behind with Eternity ahead.
The things we could not comprehend, shall come to light at that bend,
The final turn at the end of our life, as we see the face of Jesus Christ,
With our glorified body and mind, those former things are well behind,
Many questions we may have asked, may be faded things of our past.
Most things from the former time, shall pale in the light of the sublime,
As the Crystal Sea and streets of gold, with our Lord our eyes behold,
Mindful now, of the things to come, as we enter, His Eternal Kingdom,
A Kingdom that shall not pass away, one, where we'll be there to stay,
Many things that we now ponder, may fade away as we get up yonder,
Earthly things will lose their allure, as we begin a new life for evermore,
Many questions now thought of, will likely fade in His presence above,
As Christ answers more than we ask, when we begin, that Eternal Task.
poem by Bob Gotti
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Odyssey: Book 19
Ulysses was left in the cloister, pondering on the means whereby
with Minerva's help he might be able to kill the suitors. Presently he
said to Telemachus, "Telemachus, we must get the armour together and
take it down inside. Make some excuse when the suitors ask you why you
have removed it. Say that you have taken it to be out of the way of
the smoke, inasmuch as it is no longer what it was when Ulysses went
away, but has become soiled and begrimed with soot. Add to this more
particularly that you are afraid Jove may set them on to quarrel
over their wine, and that they may do each other some harm which may
disgrace both banquet and wooing, for the sight of arms sometimes
tempts people to use them."
Telemachus approved of what his father had said, so he called
nurse Euryclea and said, "Nurse, shut the women up in their room,
while I take the armour that my father left behind him down into the
store room. No one looks after it now my father is gone, and it has
got all smirched with soot during my own boyhood. I want to take it
down where the smoke cannot reach it."
"I wish, child," answered Euryclea, "that you would take the
management of the house into your own hands altogether, and look after
all the property yourself. But who is to go with you and light you
to the store room? The maids would have so, but you would not let
them.
"The stranger," said Telemachus, "shall show me a light; when people
eat my bread they must earn it, no matter where they come from."
Euryclea did as she was told, and bolted the women inside their
room. Then Ulysses and his son made all haste to take the helmets,
shields, and spears inside; and Minerva went before them with a gold
lamp in her hand that shed a soft and brilliant radiance, whereon
Telemachus said, "Father, my eyes behold a great marvel: the walls,
with the rafters, crossbeams, and the supports on which they rest
are all aglow as with a flaming fire. Surely there is some god here
who has come down from heaven."
"Hush," answered Ulysses, "hold your peace and ask no questions, for
this is the manner of the gods. Get you to your bed, and leave me here
to talk with your mother and the maids. Your mother in her grief
will ask me all sorts of questions."
On this Telemachus went by torch-light to the other side of the
inner court, to the room in which he always slept. There he lay in his
bed till morning, while Ulysses was left in the cloister pondering
on the means whereby with Minerva's help he might be able to kill
the suitors.
Then Penelope came down from her room looking like Venus or Diana,
and they set her a seat inlaid with scrolls of silver and ivory near
the fire in her accustomed place. It had been made by Icmalius and had
a footstool all in one piece with the seat itself; and it was
covered with a thick fleece: on this she now sat, and the maids came
from the women's room to join her. They set about removing the
tables at which the wicked suitors had been dining, and took away
the bread that was left, with the cups from which they had drunk. They
emptied the embers out of the braziers, and heaped much wood upon them
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Ask Me Who Is The Most Loving
Ask Me Who Is The Most Loving
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is The Most Caring
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is The Sweetest
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is The Most Sober
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is The Most Simple
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is The Biggest Hearted
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is The Most Lovable
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is The Most Trustworthy
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is The Most Sensible
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is The Cutest
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is The Coolest
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is Better Than All Friends
Its My Best Friend
Ask Me Who Is My Best Friend
poem by Muhammad Raza Master
Added by Poetry Lover
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Canto the Third
I
Hail, Muse! et cetera.—We left Juan sleeping,
Pillow'd upon a fair and happy breast,
And watch'd by eyes that never yet knew weeping,
And loved by a young heart, too deeply blest
To feel the poison through her spirit creeping,
Or know who rested there, a foe to rest,
Had soil'd the current of her sinless years,
And turn'd her pure heart's purest blood to tears!
II
Oh, Love! what is it in this world of ours
Which makes it fatal to be loved? Ah, why
With cypress branches hast thou wreathed thy bowers,
And made thy best interpreter a sigh?
As those who dote on odours pluck the flowers,
And place them on their breast—but place to die—
Thus the frail beings we would fondly cherish
Are laid within our bosoms but to perish.
III
In her first passion woman loves her lover,
In all the others all she loves is love,
Which grows a habit she can ne'er get over,
And fits her loosely—like an easy glove,
As you may find, whene'er you like to prove her:
One man alone at first her heart can move;
She then prefers him in the plural number,
Not finding that the additions much encumber.
IV
I know not if the fault be men's or theirs;
But one thing's pretty sure; a woman planted
(Unless at once she plunge for life in prayers)
After a decent time must be gallanted;
Although, no doubt, her first of love affairs
Is that to which her heart is wholly granted;
Yet there are some, they say, who have had none,
But those who have ne'er end with only one.
V
'T is melancholy, and a fearful sign
Of human frailty, folly, also crime,
That love and marriage rarely can combine,
Although they both are born in the same clime;
Marriage from love, like vinegar from wine—
A sad, sour, sober beverage—by time
Is sharpen'd from its high celestial flavour
Down to a very homely household savour.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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