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Rules are not necessarily sacred, principles are.

quote by Franklin D. Roosevelt
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An Essay on Criticism

Part I

INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to the public. That a true Taste is as rare to be found as a true Genius. That most men are born with some Taste, but spoiled by false education. The multitude of Critics, and causes of them. That we are to study our own Taste, and know the limits of it. Nature the best guide of judgment. Improved by Art and rules, which are but methodized Nature. Rules derived from the practice of the ancient poets. That therefore the ancients are necessary to be studied by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil. Of licenses, and the use of them by the ancients. Reverence due to the ancients, and praise of them.

'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But of the two less dangerous is th'offence
To tire our patience than mislead our sense:
Some few in that, but numbers err in this;
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss;
A fool might once himself alone expose;
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.

'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
In Poets as true Genius is but rare,
True Taste as seldom is the Critic's share;
Both must alike from Heav'n derive their light,
These born to judge, as well as those to write.
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well;
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,
But are not Critics to their judgment too?

Yet if we look more closely, we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind:
Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right:
But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced,
Is by ill col'ring but the more disgraced,
So by false learning is good sense defaced:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools:
In search of wit these lose their common sense,
And then turn Critics in their own defence:
Each burns alike, who can or cannot write,
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite.
All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.
If Mævius scribble in Apollo's spite,
There are who judge still worse than he can write.

Some have at first for Wits, then Poets pass'd;
Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain Fools at last.
Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass,
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,

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poem by Alexander Pope
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Aint Necessarily So

(slow)
It aint necessarily so
No, it aint necessarily so
These things that youre liable,
To read in the bible.
No it aint necessarily so
(jammin)
You bet that you cant be wrong.
No place where you dont belong.
Theres nothin you dont know.
But it aint necessarily so
To you theres never no doubt.
Its either in or its out.
You sure put up quite a show.
But it aint necessarily so
I said hold, let your bad self go.
Hold on, caus you already know.
Its never maybe or might.
To you its black or its white.
If I say yes you say no.
But it anns necessarily so
Hold on, let your bad self go.
Hold on, cause you already know.
You think that you cant be wrong.
No place where you dont belong.
Theres nothing you dont know.
But it aint necessarily so
Aint necessarily so
Aint necessarily so
No no no no
No it aint necessarily so
No no no no
No no no no
No no no no
No it aint necessarily so.
No no no no
No it aint necessarily so.

song performed by Electric Light Orchestra
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The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

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


II.

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

III.

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

IV.

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

V.

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

VI.

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

VII.

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

VIII.

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

IX.

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

X.

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

XI.

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

XII.

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

XIII.

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poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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Love Rules

Evry day you pass her in the hall
You just pretend that you dont see her at all
You wanna tell her how much you care
You wanna call her but you just dont dare
Love rules, ooo love rules
Out in the parking lot with all the guys
Dont ever let em see the tears in your eyes
Shes got a date tonight and it aint you
So you go out there and you get one too
Love rules, ooo love rules
Love rules, yeah love rules
You wish you didnt have so much to feel
Its much too scary and its all too real
All your friends are out havin fun
Sometimes you think that youre the only one
That love rules, ooo love rules
While everybodys out makin time
You cant help thinkin youre the last in line
Shes the finest thing youve ever seen
You wrap your arms around her in your dreams
When she smiles it brings you to your knees
You wanna tell her but you always freeze
Shes in the back seat but youre much too shy
Youd give the world to be an older guy
Love rules, ooo love rules
Love rules, yeah love still rules
Love rules, ooo love rules
Love rules, love rules love rules
Love rules

song performed by Don Henley
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Kinja Rules

Lorna
Mista paper, senator pullman he just call.
He ask how come ya don need no watah
Norman
Dont need water!
Lorna
Well, you let the barge go by
He comin to talk to you
Norman
Who is senator pullman anyway?
Why do I have to signal the barge?
Iris
Welcome to the caribbean, put on a shirt at least.
The big enchilada is on his way
Senator pullman
Mr. norman paperman, I presume?
Joinin us in kinja for de tourist boom?
Norman
Norman paperman at your service.
Meeting the kingpin, Im slightly nervous
Pullman
Mr. paperman, I here to be your friend
But theres just certain rules here we can not bend
Paperman how about the water? my cisterns flat.
Pullman
Why sure, I come to take care of dat
Chorus
But you gotta play by kinja rules
Forget about da tings you learned in school
We use a different box of tools
And you gotta play by kinja rules
Pullman
Now dis alien aint bonded for no gondolier
Hes bonded for gardener-dat why he here
De chief of immigration a power in dis town
Chief find out-your hotel close down
Paperman
Hereafter gardenings all hell do I didnt know, I swear to you
Pullman
Doan hoross yourself, its okay mister
De chief of immigration-shes my sister
Chorus
But you gotta play by kinja rules
Forget about that civics course you learned in school
We aint city folks, but we aint fools
And you gotta play by kinja rules
Pullman
Stop!
Paperman
How about my water?

[...] Read more

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
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David

My thought, on views of admiration hung,
Intently ravish'd and depriv'd of tongue,
Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,
Here mov'd with praise and mov'd with glory there;
The joys entrancing and the mute surprize
Half fix the blood, and dim the moist'ning eyes;
Pleasure and praise on one another break,
And Exclamation longs at heart to speak;
When thus my Genius, on the work design'd
Awaiting closely, guides the wand'ring mind.

If while thy thanks wou'd in thy lays be wrought,
A bright astonishment involve the thought,
If yet thy temper wou'd attempt to sing,
Another's quill shall imp thy feebler wing;
Behold the name of royal David near,
Behold his musick and his measures here,
Whose harp Devotion in a rapture strung,
And left no state of pious souls unsung.

Him to the wond'ring world but newly shewn,
Celestial poetry pronounc'd her own;
A thousand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair-blooming Innocence with tender years,
And native Sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to smile within his early song,
And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along;
Majestick Honour at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the scepter of her royal state,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great;
Undaunted Courage deck'd with manly charms,
With waving-azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Displaid the glories, and the toils of fight,
Demanded fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect these the sacred spirit came,
By mild infusion of celestial flame,
And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men aspire
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they strive to make proud Babel rise,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies.
While I the glitt'ring page resolve to view,
That will the subject of my lines renew;
The Laurel wreath, my fames imagin'd shade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help or else I sink.

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poem by Thomas Parnell
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Solomon

As thro' the Psalms from theme to theme I chang'd,
Methinks like Eve in Paradice I rang'd;
And ev'ry grace of song I seem'd to see,
As the gay pride of ev'ry season, she.
She gently treading all the walks around,
Admir'd the springing beauties of the ground,
The lilly glist'ring with the morning dew,
The rose in red, the violet in blew,
The pink in pale, the bells in purple rows,
And tulips colour'd in a thousand shows:
Then here and there perhaps she pull'd a flow'r
To strew with moss, and paint her leafy bow'r;
And here and there, like her I went along,
Chose a bright strain, and bid it deck my song.

But now the sacred Singer leaves mine eye,
Crown'd as he was, I think he mounts on high;
Ere this Devotion bore his heav'nly psalms,
And now himself bears up his harp and palms.
Go, saint triumphant, leave the changing sight,
So fitted out, you suit the realms of light;
But let thy glorious robe at parting go,
Those realms have robes of more effulgent show;
It flies, it falls, the flutt'ring silk I see,
Thy son has caught it and he sings like thee,
With such election of a theme divine,
And such sweet grace, as conquers all but thine.

Hence, ev'ry writer o'er the fabled streams,
Where frolick fancies sport with idle dreams,
Or round the sight enchanted clouds dispose,
Whence wanton cupids shoot with gilded bows;
A nobler writer, strains more brightly wrought,
Themes more exulted, fill my wond'ring thought:
The parted skies are track'd with flames above,
As love descends to meet ascending love;
The seasons flourish where the spouses meet,
And earth in gardens spreads beneath their feet.
This fresh-bloom prospect in the bosom throngs,
When Solomon begins his song of songs,
Bids the rap'd soul to Lebanon repair,
And lays the scenes of all his action there,
Where as he wrote, and from the bow'r survey'd
The scenting groves, or answ'ring knots he made,
His sacred art the sights of nature brings,
Beyond their use, to figure heav'nly things.

Great son of God! whose gospel pleas'd to throw
Round thy rich glory, veils of earthly show,
Who made the vineyard oft thy church design,

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Parnell
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It Ain't Necessarily So

Ain't necessarily so.
Ain't necessarily so.
Things you're liable
To read in a bible
Ain't necessarily so.
Little David he was small, alright,
Yeah, now David he was small alright,
Just like Goliath
Lay dying then he dieth,
Oh he was small, alright.
Little Moses he was found in a stream.
Yeah Moses now he was found in a stream
When that pharoah's sweet daughter
She came by and fished that boy out from the water,
Fished him, she said, from a stream.
Now Jonah now he lived in a whale.
Yeah Jonah he lived in a whale
Yet he made his home in that
Fish's abdomen.
Jonah he lived in a whale.
I said, ain't necessarily so.
No, ain't necessarily so.
The things you're liable
To read in a bible
Ain't necessarily so.
Ain't necessarily so.
No, it ain't necessarily so.

song performed by Moody Blues
Added by Lucian Velea
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Now Im A Farmer

Ive got a spade and a pick-axe
Ive got a spade and a pick-axe
And a hundred miles square of land to churn about
And a hundred miles square of land to churn about
My old horse is weary but sincerely
My old horse is weary but sincerely
I believe that he can pull a plough
I believe that he can pull a plough
Well Ive moved into the jungle of the agriculture rumble,
Well Ive moved into the jungle of the agriculture rumble,
To grow my own food
To grow my own food
And Ill dig and plough and scrape the weeds
And Ill dig and plough and scrape the weeds
Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through
Till I succeed in seeing cabbage growing through
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn
Well, I farmed for a year and grew a crop of corn
That stretched as far as the eye can see
That stretched as far as the eye can see
Thats a whole lot of cornflakes,
Thats a whole lot of cornflakes,
Near enough to feed new york till 1973
Near enough to feed new york till 1973
Cultivation is my station and the nation
Cultivation is my station and the nation
Buys my corn from me immediately
Buys my corn from me immediately
And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks
And holding sixty thousand bucks, I watch as dumper trucks
Tip new yorks corn flakes in the sea
Tip new yorks corn flakes in the sea
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Now Im a farmer, and Im digging, digging, digging, digging, digging
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
Its alarming how charming it is to be a-farming
How calming and balming the effect of the air
How calming and balming the effect of the air
Now look here son
Now look here son

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song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Convocation: A Poem

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Savage
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No Rules

Say its alright
If you really love me
Its my life
And I really wanted you that night
Was about to break
So we had to just take a chance
Time is not to waste
We couldnt let it slide through our hands
When my heart called
You answered me
Baby, when I was falling
You were there for me
Theres no rules in love
Cant you see?
No rules in love
For you and me
No rules in love
Walking through the streets
The echo of our footsteps in time
In between the beats
Tell me that youll always be mine
So baby can I trust you
Like Im ready to?
Ive waited so long
And I never refused
Theres no rules in love
Cant you see?
No rules in love
For you and me
Theres no rules in love
Our hearts are free
No rules in love
For you and me
No rules in love
All my life, been living on the same dreams
Sometimes they seemed so real
All my love I held deep inside me
I wanted to feel
I wanted to feel
Baby, now I wonder
What youre doing tonight
I can see you laughing, boy
As I closed my eyes
Theres no rules in love
Cant you see?
No rules in love
For you and me
Theres no rules in love
Cant you see?
No rules in love

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song performed by Tiffany
Added by Lucian Velea
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God Rules Alway

Into the world's most high and holy places
Men carry selfishness, and graft and greed.
The air is rent with warring of the races;
Loud Dogmas drown a brother's cry of need.
The Fleet-of-Creeds, upon Time's ocean lurches;
And there is mutiny upon her decks;
And in the light of temples, and of churches,
Against life's shores drift wrecks and derelicts.
(God rules, God rules alway.)

Right in the shadow of the lofty steeple,
Which crowns some costly edifice of faith,
Behold the throngs of hungry, unhoused people;
The 'Bread Line,' flanked by charity and death.
See yonder Churchman, opulently doing
Unnumbered deeds, which gladden and resound;
The while his thrifty tenant is pursuing
The white slave trade on sacred, untaxed ground.
(God rules, God rules alway.)

For these are but the outward signs of fever;
Those flaunting signs, which through delirium burn;
And the clear-seeing eye of each Believer
Can note the coming crisis. It will turn,
For it has reached its summit. Convalescing,
The sick world shall arise to strength and peace,
And earth shall bloom, with each and every blessing
Life waits to give, when wars and conflicts cease.
(God rules, God rules alway.)

This is a mighty hour. No sounds of drumming,
No flying flags, no heralds do appear;
No Wise Men of the East proclaim His coming;
Yet He is coming-nay, our Christ is here!
And man shall leave his fever dreams behind him;
Those dreams of avarice, and lust, and sin,
And seek his Lord; yea, he shall seek and find Him,
In his own soul, where He has always been.
(God rules, God rules alway.)

Man longs for God. Before the Christ we wot of,
With His brief mighty message, came to earth,
Before His life, or creed, or cross were thought of,
The love of love within man's breast had birth.
But blindly, through his carnal senses reaching,
He plucked dead fruit, and nothing has sufficed;

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poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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It Aint Necessarily So

Sportin life:
It aint necessarily so,
All:
It aint necessarily so.
Sportin life:
De tings dat yo lible
To read in de Bible -
It aint necessarily so.
Lil david was small, but oh my!
All:
Lil david was small, but oh my!
Sportin life:
He fought big goliath
Who lay down and dieth -
Lil david was small, but oh my!
Wadoo!
Ensemble:
Wadoo!
Sportin life:
Zim bam boddle-oo!
Ensemble:
Zim bam boddle-oo!
Sportin life:
Hoodle ah da waah da!
Ensemble:
Hoodle ah da waah da!
Sportin life:
Scatty way!
Ensemble:
Scatty wah!
Sportin life:
Yeah!
Oh jonah, he lived in de whale
All:
Oh jonah, he lived in de whale.
Sportin life:
Fo he made his home in
Dat fishs abdomen -
Oh jonah, he lived in de whale.
Lil moses was found in a stream
All:
Lil moses was found in a stream
Sportin life:
He floated on water
till ole pharaohs daughter
She fished him, she says from dat stream.
Wadoo!
Ensemble:
Wadoo!
Sportin life:

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song performed by Ella Fitzgerald
Added by Lucian Velea
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Is Nothing Sacred

If a love as strong as ours
Couldnt make it all the way,
Can anything make sense at all?
If a love so deep and true
Couldnt stand the test of time,
Then mount everest could slide,
And jeruselem could fall.
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth fighting for?
If we can say good-bye,
If we can say good-bye,
Is nothing sacred anymore?
If we can say good-bye
Is nothing sacred anymore?
I can hear the final words
Every sentence that was said
Dont know what turned our lives around.
It doesnt matter who was right,
Theres no justice in a dream.
Never thought a heart could break
Without making any sound.
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth fighting for?
If we can say good-bye,
If we can say good-bye,
Is nothing sacred anymore?
If we can say good-bye
If we can say good-bye
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Our love was as certain as the dawn,
As solid and save as any love could be.
Our love was the star you wished upon,
And you thought that I saved you,
Couldve sworn that you saved me.
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth fighting for?
If we can say good-bye,
If we can say good-bye,
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth fighting for?
If we can say good-bye,

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song performed by Meat Loaf
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Columbiad: Book III

The Argument

Actions of the Inca Capac. A general invasion of his dominions threatened by the mountain savages. Rocha, the Inca's son, sent with a few companions to offer terms of peace. His embassy. His adventure with the worshippers of the volcano. With those of the storm, on the Andes. Falls in with the savage armies. Character and speech of Zamor, their chief. Capture of Rocha and his companions. Sacrifice of the latter. Death song of Azonto. War dance. March of the savage armies down the mountains to Peru. Incan army meets them. Battle joins. Peruvians terrified by an eclipse of the sun, and routed. They fly to Cusco. Grief of Oella, supposing the darkness to be occasioned by the death of Rocha. Sun appears. Peruvians from the city wall discover Roch an altar in the savage camp. They march in haste out of the city and engage the savages. Exploits of Capac. Death of Zamor. Recovery of Rocha, and submission of the enemy.

Now twenty years these children of the skies
Beheld their gradual growing empire rise.
They ruled with rigid but with generous care,
Diffused their arts and sooth'd the rage of war,
Bade yon tall temple grace their favorite isle,
The mines unfold, the cultured valleys smile,
Those broad foundations bend their arches high,
And rear imperial Cusco to the sky;
Wealth, wisdom, force consolidate the reign
From the rude Andes to the western main.

But frequent inroads from the savage bands
Lead fire and slaughter o'er the labor'd lands;
They sack the temples, the gay fields deface,
And vow destruction to the Incan race.
The king, undaunted in defensive war,
Repels their hordes, and speeds their flight afar;
Stung with defeat, they range a wider wood,
And rouse fresh tribes for future fields of blood.

Where yon blue ridges hang their cliffs on high,
And suns infulminate the stormful sky,
The nations, temper'd to the turbid air,
Breathe deadly strife, and sigh for battle's blare;
Tis here they meditate, with one vast blow,
To crush the race that rules the plains below.
Capac with caution views the dark design,
Learns from all points what hostile myriads join.
And seeks in time by proffer'd leagues to gain
A bloodless victory, and enlarge his reign.

His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,

In early youth, ere yet the ripening sun
Had three short lustres o'er his childhood run,
The prince had learnt, beneath his father's hand,
The well-framed code that sway'd the sacred land;
With rites mysterious served the Power divine,
Prepared the altar and adorn'd the shrine,
Responsive hail'd, with still returning praise,
Each circling season that the God displays,

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poem by Joel Barlow
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Sacred Trust

(b, r & m gibb)
I meant to fight it to the finish but you made me forget
And though its possible Im dreaming, dont wake me yet
You know I love you
I cant see the day for night
You know I twist around and turn around and then I give in
You end up in control of me its really a sin
I dont know what youre doing to me
But I know its a crime
And baby I cant last another night
And every moment is eternity
And from the depth of my soul
Cant let another day go by
I follow my heart right up to the end
As far as the eye can see
Im faithful and true and living up to
Your sacred trust in me
Ill never give out to somebody else
I know where my arms should be
Im faithful and true and making it through
Your sacred trust in me
Your sacred trust in me
You take me and you break me and you do what you please
I stumble and I tremble and Im weak at the knees
The vision that lies before me is not reality
I tell you I cant wait another night
For every secret that your soul reveals
And you and I may get to know
That its real, that its real
I follow my heart that leads me to you
And all that my love should be (you know Im talking to you)
And you can be sure Im doing it for
Your sacred trust in me
Ill never give out to somebody else
Theres nowhere my heart should be (you know Im calling to you)
Im faithful and true and living up to
Your sacred trust in me
Your sacred trust in me
I follow my heart right up to the end
As far as the eye can see
Im faithful and true and living up to
Your sacred trust in me
Ill never give out to somebody else
I know where my arms should be
Im faithful and true and making it through
Your sacred trust in me
Your sacred trust
I follow my heart that leads me to you
And all that my love should be (you know Im calling to you)
And you can be sure Im doing it for

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song performed by Bee Gees
Added by Lucian Velea
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A poem on divine revelation

This is a day of happiness, sweet peace,
And heavenly sunshine; upon which conven'd
In full assembly fair, once more we view,
And hail with voice expressive of the heart,
Patrons and sons of this illustrious hall.
This hall more worthy of its rising fame
Than hall on mountain or romantic hill,
Where Druid bards sang to the hero's praise,
While round their woods and barren heaths was heard
The shrill calm echo of th' enchanting shell.
Than all those halls and lordly palaces
Where in the days of chivalry, each knight,
And baron brave in military pride
Shone in the brass and burning steel of war;
For in this hall more worthy of a strain
No envious sound forbidding peace is heard,
Fierce song of battle kindling martial rage
And desp'rate purpose in heroic minds:
But sacred truth fair science and each grace
Of virtue born; health, elegance and ease
And temp'rate mirth in social intercourse
Convey rich pleasure to the mind; and oft
The sacred muse in heaven-breathing song
Doth wrap the soul in extasy divine,
Inspiring joy and sentiment which not
The tale of war or song of Druids gave.
The song of Druids or the tale of war
With martial vigour every breast inspir'd,
With valour fierce and love of deathless fame;
But here a rich and splendid throng conven'd
From many a distant city and fair town,
Or rural seat by shore or mountain-stream,
Breathe joy and blessing to the human race,
Give countenance to arts themselves have known,
Inspire the love of heights themselves have reach'd,
Of noble science to enlarge the mind,
Of truth and virtue to adorn the soul,
And make the human nature grow divine.

Oh could the muse on this auspicious day
Begin a song of more majestic sound,
Or touch the lyre on some sublimer key,
Meet entertainment for the noble mind.
How shall the muse from this poetic bow'r
So long remov'd, and from this happy hill,
Where ev'ry grace and ev'ry virtue dwells,
And where the springs of knowledge and of thought
In riv'lets clear and gushing streams flow down
Attempt a strain? How sing in rapture high

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poem by Hugh Henry Brackenridge
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Gotham - Book III

Can the fond mother from herself depart?
Can she forget the darling of her heart,
The little darling whom she bore and bred,
Nursed on her knees, and at her bosom fed;
To whom she seem'd her every thought to give,
And in whose life alone she seem'd to live?
Yes, from herself the mother may depart,
She may forget the darling of her heart,
The little darling whom she bore and bred,
Nursed on her knees, and at her bosom fed,
To whom she seem'd her every thought to give,
And in whose life alone she seem'd to live;
But I cannot forget, whilst life remains,
And pours her current through these swelling veins,
Whilst Memory offers up at Reason's shrine;
But I cannot forget that Gotham's mine.
Can the stern mother, than the brutes more wild,
From her disnatured breast tear her young child,
Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone,
And dash the smiling babe against a stone?
Yes, the stern mother, than the brutes more wild,
From her disnatured breast may tear her child,
Flesh of her flesh, and of her bone the bone,
And dash the smiling babe against a stone;
But I, (forbid it, Heaven!) but I can ne'er
The love of Gotham from this bosom tear;
Can ne'er so far true royalty pervert
From its fair course, to do my people hurt.
With how much ease, with how much confidence--
As if, superior to each grosser sense,
Reason had only, in full power array'd,
To manifest her will, and be obey'd--
Men make resolves, and pass into decrees
The motions of the mind! with how much ease,
In such resolves, doth passion make a flaw,
And bring to nothing what was raised to law!
In empire young, scarce warm on Gotham's throne,
The dangers and the sweets of power unknown,
Pleased, though I scarce know why, like some young child,
Whose little senses each new toy turns wild,
How do I hold sweet dalliance with my crown,
And wanton with dominion, how lay down,
Without the sanction of a precedent,
Rules of most large and absolute extent;
Rules, which from sense of public virtue spring,
And all at once commence a Patriot King!
But, for the day of trial is at hand,
And the whole fortunes of a mighty land
Are staked on me, and all their weal or woe
Must from my good or evil conduct flow,

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poem by Charles Churchill
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I Dont Love Here Anymore

Words and music by rick nielsen
We had a special way of talkin
Oh, a language all our own
We always knew the latest dances
But we liked old-fashioned love
Now something seems the matter
You dont want to play by the rules
(you dont want to play by the rules)
I dont want to love here anymore
(I dont want to love here anymore)
You dont want to play by the rules
(you dont want to play by the rules)
I dont have a lot of patience
When someones lit my fuse
So dont you try to reason
Me, I dont want no excuse, no!
You dont want to play by the rules
(you dont want to play by the rules)
I dont want to love here anymore
(I dont want to love here anymore)
You dont want to play by the rules
(you dont want to play by the rules)
You (you)
Dont (dont)
Play (play)
By the rules
I (I)
Wont (dont)
Love here anymore
You dont want to play by the rules
(you dont want to play by the rules)
cause I dont want to love here anymore
(I dont want to love here anymore)

song performed by Cheap Trick
Added by Lucian Velea
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Breaking All The Rules

Well I know
I could be just another stranger
But to you
I guess Im just another fool
And you swear
You like to live your life in danger
Then you hide
Behind a wall of silly lies
Nobody thinks the way I do
I guess that nobody cares
Your heads so full of things, so set your mind free of them
Im breaking the rules
Did you know
That in the truth, theres nothing stranger
I suppose
You think I think I know it all
Chorus:
Nobody hears the things I say
I guess that nobody cares
My heads so full of things I set my mind free of them Im breaking the rules
Breaking all the rules
Cant you see theyre nothing without you
Empty heads full of fools
Now you see
Im breaking all the rules, breakin all the rules
Well I know
That you would love to go to heaven
But you know
That youre just too afraid to die
And I know
That you would love to know the answers
But to you
The truth is just another lie
Chorus
Breaking all the rules
Why dont you tell them
Breaking all the rules, a come on, a come on
Breaking all the rules, why dont you get it on,
Breaking all the rules, a come on, a come on
Breaking all the rules, aaaallll right
Breaking all the rules, a come on, a come on...

song performed by Ozzy Osbourne
Added by Lucian Velea
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