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In many ways, when you're young and sexy, it's very annoying to be whistled at and to have someone always trying to attract your attention, but now when it happens I find myself registering the fact almost warmly.

quote by Greta Scacchi
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Sexy Dancer

Sexy dancer
Sexy dancer
Sexy dancer, you got my body screamin
Sexy dancer, you got me just-a-creamin
Sexy dancer, when you rub my body
Sexy dancer, it gets me so hot...hot!
Sexy dancer, sexy dancer
Sexy dancer, sexy dancer
Sexy dancer, I want your body, want your body
Sexy dancer, dance
Sexy dancer, I want your body, want your body
Sexy dancer, dance
Sexy dancer, I want your body, want your body
Sexy dancer, dance
Sexy dancer, I want your body, want your body
Sexy dancer, dance
Sexy dancer, do that sexy dance
Sexy dancer
Sexy dancer, sexy dancer
Sexy dancer, sexy dancer
Hot!

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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I'm Too Sexy

I'm too sexy for my love, too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me
I'm too sexy for my shirt too sexy for my shirt
So sexy it hurts
And i'm too sexy for milan too sexy for milan
New york and japan
And i'm too sexy for your party
Too sexy for your party
No way i'm disco dancing
I'm a model you know what i mean
And i do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I do my little turn on the catwalk
I'm too sexy for my car too sexy for my car
Too sexy by far
And i'm too sexy for my hat
Too sexy for my hat what do you think about that
I'm a model you know what i mean
And i do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little touche on the catwalk
I'm too sexy for my too sexy for my too sexy for my
cos i'm a model you know what i mean
And i do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk yeah on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little touche on the catwalk
I'm too sexy for my cat too sexy for my cat
Poor pussy poor pussy cat
I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me
And i'm too sexy for this song

song performed by Right Said Fred
Added by Lucian Velea
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Change Clothes

[Intro: Jay-Z (Pharrell)]
Uh, uh, uh, yeah, uh, your boy is back
(Sexy sexy) I know y'all miss the bounce
Need to bounce for the sexy you know
[Verse 1: Jay-Z]
Yeah ma, your dude is back, made back roof is back
Tell the whole world the truth is back
You ain't got to argue about who could rap
Cause the proof is back just go through my rap
New York New York yeah where my troopers at
Where my hustlers where my boosters at
I don't care what you do for stacks
I know the world glued you back to the wall
You gotta brawl to that
I been through that, been shot at shoot back
Gotta keep it peace like a buddhist
I ain't a New Jack nobody 'gon Wesley Snipe me
It's less than likely, move back
Let I breathe Jedi knight
The more space I get the better I write
(Oh) Never I write, but, if, ever I write
I need the space to say whatever I like, now just
[Chorus: Jay-Z (Pharrell)]
(Change clothes and go)You know I stay fresh to death
I bought you from the projects
And I'm a take you to the top of the globe so let's go (Change numbers and go)
Uh huh yeah, uh (Now girl I promise you, no substitute) It's just me
[Verse 2: Jay-Z]
And I 'gon tell you again let's get ghost in the phantom
You could bring your friend we copuld make this a tandem
You could come by yourself and you could stand him
Best believe I sweat out weaves, give afropuffs like R.A.G.E.
Awww you get If you could move it
Back it on up like a U Haul truck
Then run and tell them thugs you heard Hovi knew
He and the boy for real make beautiful music
He is to the east coast what Snoop is, to the west coast what Face is to Houston
Young Hov in the house it's so necessary
No bra with the blouse it's so necessary
No panties and jeans that's so necessary
Now why you frontin on me is that necessary
Do I to you look like a lame
Who don't understand a bra with a mean shoe game
Whose up on Dot Dot Dot and Vera Wang
Ma are you insane, let's just
(Woman speaking: What you want me to do?)
[Chorus: Jay-Z (Pharrell)]
(Change clothes and go)You know I stay fresh to death
I bought you from the projects
And I'm a take you to the top of the globe so let's go (Change numbers and go)

[...] Read more

song performed by Jay-Z
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sexy Feline Machine

Shes a funky feline machine
Crazy cat inside a dream
shes a hunny she stings like a bee
your the punk and shes the queen
shes an angel shes a dove
with a taste for a villans blood
packing heat strutting on the street
chew you up and make you meat
sexy feline machine
sexy feline machine
(shes a sexy feline machine)
sexy feline machine
sexy feline machine
(shes a sexy feline machine)
Shes a sexy feline machine
Shes a sexy feline machine
Shes a sexy feline machine
Shes a sexy feline machine
you cant stop her
ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya........
Shes a funky feline machine
Crazy cat inside a dream
shes a hunny she stings like a bee
your the punk and shes the queen
sexy feline machine
sexy feline machine
(shes a sexy feline machine)
sexy feline machine
sexy feline machine
(every thing is not as it seems)
sexy feline machine
sexy feline machine
(shes a sexy feline machine)
Shes a sexy feline machine
you cant stop her
ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya...........
(bow bow bow)

song performed by Fat Joe
Added by Lucian Velea
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Poetry Is Sexy

Poetry is sexy
Its lyrics aim to please

Poetry is sexy
Engaging in its tease

Poetry is sexy
It radiates with verb

Poetry is sexy
Every idyllic word

Poetry is sexy
Refined for purity

Poetry is sexy
Stripped of subtlety

Poetry is sexy
When read between the lines

Poetry is sexy
Laced with frilly rhymes

Poetry is sexy
Both singular and plural

Poetry is sexy
Every exclamatory swirl

Poetry is sexy
Grammatically raw

Poetry is sexy
Even typos and all

Poetry is sexy
Consummated publicly

Poetry is sexy
When performed properly

Poetry is sexy
Irrespective of its font

Poetry is sexy
Fashioned any way you want

poem by Brian Dorn
Added by Poetry Lover
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Must --ness

only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.
only happens this.

poem by Nyein Way
Added by Poetry Lover
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Sexy Single

All my life I've tried to find
A love to give me piece of mind
And I, I looked into your eyes
Captivated by your wicked smile
I was mesmerized there
for a while or two
But what's a girl gonna do?
Oh I lay in my bed
with your stupid face in my head
Just another piece in my life
Now I'm a sexy single
Sexy single that's OK
I'm living on my own
And I'm feeling the way I do
Like a sexy single
Sexy single
Birds of a feather
We flock together
Like leaves on a tree
We were meant to be in love
I guess it was just a dream
Oh I lay in my bed
with your stupid face in my head
Just another piece in my life
Sexy single
Sexy single that's OK
I'm living on my own in my special way
Like a sexy single
Sexy single
I'm sexy single
Sexy single
Sexy single
I said I'm living on my own
And feeling the way I do
When I'm not with you
I said I'm sexy single
That's OK
Living on my own
And feeling the way I do
I said when I'm not with you
Sexy single that's OK
I'm living on my own in my special way
Like a sexy single
Sexy single

song performed by Anastacia
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

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

Do you see this Ring?
'T is Rome-work, made to match
(By Castellani's imitative craft)
Etrurian circlets found, some happy morn,
After a dropping April; found alive
Spark-like 'mid unearthed slope-side figtree-roots
That roof old tombs at Chiusi: soft, you see,
Yet crisp as jewel-cutting. There's one trick,
(Craftsmen instruct me) one approved device
And but one, fits such slivers of pure gold
As this was,—such mere oozings from the mine,
Virgin as oval tawny pendent tear
At beehive-edge when ripened combs o'erflow,—
To bear the file's tooth and the hammer's tap:
Since hammer needs must widen out the round,
And file emboss it fine with lily-flowers,
Ere the stuff grow a ring-thing right to wear.
That trick is, the artificer melts up wax
With honey, so to speak; he mingles gold
With gold's alloy, and, duly tempering both,
Effects a manageable mass, then works:
But his work ended, once the thing a ring,
Oh, there's repristination! Just a spirt
O' the proper fiery acid o'er its face,
And forth the alloy unfastened flies in fume;
While, self-sufficient now, the shape remains,
The rondure brave, the lilied loveliness,
Gold as it was, is, shall be evermore:
Prime nature with an added artistry—
No carat lost, and you have gained a ring.
What of it? 'T is a figure, a symbol, say;
A thing's sign: now for the thing signified.

Do you see this square old yellow Book, I toss
I' the air, and catch again, and twirl about
By the crumpled vellum covers,—pure crude fact
Secreted from man's life when hearts beat hard,
And brains, high-blooded, ticked two centuries since?
Examine it yourselves! I found this book,
Gave a lira for it, eightpence English just,
(Mark the predestination!) when a Hand,
Always above my shoulder, pushed me once,
One day still fierce 'mid many a day struck calm,
Across a Square in Florence, crammed with booths,
Buzzing and blaze, noontide and market-time,
Toward Baccio's marble,—ay, the basement-ledge
O' the pedestal where sits and menaces
John of the Black Bands with the upright spear,
'Twixt palace and church,—Riccardi where they lived,
His race, and San Lorenzo where they lie.

[...] Read more

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

Sexy sadie what have you done
You made a fool of everyone
You made a fool of everyone
Sexy sadie ooh what have you done.
Sexy sadie you broke the rules
You layed it down for all to see
You layed it down for all to see
Sexy sadie oooh you broke the rules.
One sunny day the world was waiting for a lover
She came along to turn on everyone
Sexy sadie the greatest of them all.
Sexy sadie how did you know
The world was waiting just for you
The world was waiting just for you
Sexy sadie oooh how did you know.
Sexy sadie you'll get yours yet
However big you think you are
However big you think you are
Sexy sadie oooh you'll get yours yet.
We gave her everything we owned just to sit at her table
Just a smile would lighten everything
Sexy sadie she's the latest and the greatest of them all.
She made a fool of everyone
Sexy sadie.
However big you think you are
Sexy sadie.

song performed by Beatles
Added by Lucian Velea
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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,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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We Love To Moan!

As a nation, us British really do love to have a good old moan.
We complain about anything and everything in a really grumpy tone.

We hate it when shop assistants couldn’t care less and are really rude,
Or when, in a restaurant, we have to wait far too long for our food.
Many people complain about their neighbours making too much noise.
They also hate their own homes are constantly littered with the kids toys.

It’s so frustrating when your internet connection is way too slow,
And when automated phone systems, almost make your temper blow.
People really hate to be caught up in lengthy, slow moving traffic queues
And when they have an almighty hangover, as a result of too much booze.

We hate it when our bus, to get to work, is, yet again, running late,
And, when charity workers in the High Street, for money, lie in wait.
It’s annoying when we have to work when the weather is fair,
And when it rains all day, when we’re on holiday and not there.

One of our favourite things to moan about is the state of our health,
And, since we’re in the middle of a recession, the state of our wealth.
We complain when we are feeling bogged down by a heavy workload,
And, when, at the end of the day, our body goes into tiredness mode.

We moan that there’s never anything decent on TV at night,
And when our headache reaches its very highest height.
It’s annoying if you hear a knock at the door and you run downstairs,
In your dressing gown, only to find a uninvited cold caller stood there.

We really hate it when another driver parks in our space,
And, when we’re going on a date and we get spots on our face.
We moan when someone leaves the loo seat up,
And when someone else uses our favourite cup.

We moan when prices in the shops seem way too high,
And we have to cut down on the treats we usually buy.
It’s annoying when someone leaves the towel hanging askew,
And when someone keeps leaving the top off the toothpaste too.

It’s annoying when you’ve just washed muddy footprints off the floor,
And when some walks across it in their boots, leaving you loads more.
It’s horrible when your computer crashes and you lose three hours work,
And when people cough and don’t cover their mouths, so in the air germs lurk.

It’s frustrating when you’re trying to find the end of the Sellotape,
And when people eat their food noisily, and with their mouth agape.
We get tons of pointless junk mail dropping through our doors,
And endless spam email on computers is also a really big bore.

We get angry when, at the airport, there are delays to our flights,
And when on the roads, we encounter ‘road rage’ and people fight.

[...] Read more

poem by Angela Wybrow
Added by Poetry Lover
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Young Americans

They pulled in just behind the fridge
He lays her down, he frowns
Gee my lifes a funny thing, am I still too young?
He kissed her then and there
She took his ring, took his babies
It took him minutes, took her nowhere
Heaven knows, shed have taken anything, but
All night
She wants the young american
Young american, young american, she wants the young american
All right
She wants the young american
Scanning life through the picture windows
She finds the slinky vagabond
He coughs as he passes her ford mustang, but
Heaven forbid, shell take anything
But the freak, and his type, all for nothing
He misses a step and cuts his hand, but
Showing nothing, he swoops like a song
She cries where have all papas heroes gone?
All night
She wants the young american
Young american, young american, she wants the young american
All right
She wants the young american
All the way from washington
Her bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor
We live for just these twenty years
Do we have to die for the fifty more?
All night
He wants the young american
Young american, young american, he wants the young american
All right
He wants the young american
Do you remember, your president nixon?
Do you remember, the bills you have to pay
Or even yesterday
Have you been an un-american?
Just you and your idol singing falsetto bout
Leather, leather everywhere, and
Not a myth left from the ghetto
Well, well, well, would you carry a razor
In case, just in case of depression
Sit on your hands on a bus of survivors
Blushing at all the afro-sheilas
Aint that close to love?
Well, aint that poster love?
Well, it aint that barbie doll
Her hearts been broken just like you have
And

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Young American

They pulled in just behind the fridge
He lays her down, he frowns
"Gee my life's a funny thing, am I still too young?"
He kissed her then and there
She took his ring, took his babies
It took him minutes, took her nowhere
Heaven knows, she'd have taken anything, but
All night
She wants the young American
Young American, young American, she wants the young American
All right
She wants the young American
Scanning life through the picture windows
She finds the slinky vagabond
He coughs as he passes her Ford Mustang, but
Heaven forbid, she'll take anything
But the freak, and his type, all for nothing
He misses a step and cuts his hand, but
Showing nothing, he swoops like a song
She cries "Where have all Papa's heroes gone?"
All night
She wants the young American
Young American, young American, she wants the young American
All right
She wants the young American
All the way from Washington
Her bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor
"We live for just these twenty years
Do we have to die for the fifty more?"
All night
He wants the young American
Young American, young American, he wants the young American
All right
He wants the young American
Do you remember, your President Nixon?
Do you remember, the bills you have to pay
Or even yesterday
Have you been an un-American?
Just you and your idol singing falsetto 'bout
Leather, leather everywhere, and
Not a myth left from the ghetto
Well, well, well, would you carry a razor
In case, just in case of depression
Sit on your hands on a bus of survivors
Blushing at all the afro-Sheilas
Ain't that close to love?
Well, ain't that poster love?
Well, it ain't that Barbie doll
Her heart's been broken just like you have
And

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Affirming That...

Attract good health,
To me and my home.
Attract wealth of understanding,
And an abundance condoned...
To me and my home.
Attract goodwill and love,
To me and my home.
Attract a forgiveness shared,
To me and my home.
Attract an increased love of God,
To me and my home.
Attract those of faith and encouragement,
To me and my home.
Attract a giving that receives graciously,
To me and my home.
Attract a growth that knows its worth,
To me and my home.
Attract a success
That leaves a mind at peace and rest.
With friends and family,
All feeling a 'givingness'.

And let it be known...
That in my home dwells a heart,
Affirming that which it needs...
To deliver what God expects!
As I journey upon this path,
He enlightens...
Whenever I come to pray to Him and ask,
For guidance to assist me
With all He gives and my tasks...
With Him I know I will pass!

And in the doing,
I am hopeful...
To attract to my life the best God has,
For me and those affirming that!
Affirming 'that' to ourselves at last!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Intermission-lude

(jermaine dupri)
Published by so so def, emi april music inc. (ascap)
Crazy sexy cool
Crazy (crazy) sexy (sexy) cool (cool)
Crazy (crazy) sexy (sexy) cool (cool)
Crazy (crazy) sexy (sexy) cool (cool)
Crazy (crazy) sexy (sexy) cool (cool)
Crazy (crazy) sexy (sexy) cool (cool).......

song performed by TLC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the First

I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.

II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.

IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.

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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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As A Matter Of Fact

Written by s. garrett & d. boyette
Blow daddy, aww, yeah
Here we are, standing at the hard line
We made it last this long
The two of us, together since the first time
And I believe our love is still strong
Seems love has a funny way
Well, it can come or go or it can choose to stay
But love says what it has to say
(chorus)
Matter of fact (ooh, as a matter of fact)
I love you (oh, as a matter of fact)
And I love that you love me back
As a matter of fact (ooh, as a matter, a matter)
Some said we wouldnt make it this far
But they dont talk no more (no more)
The love we share is precious as a big star
And what we haves what others hope for
Seems love has a funny way
Well, it can come or go or it can choose to stay
But love says what it has to say
(chorus)
Matter of fact (ooh, as a matter of fact)
I need you (oh, as a matter of fact)
And Im glad that you need me back
As a matter of fact (ooh, as a matter, a matter)
Mm, matter of fact, yeah (ooh as a matter of fact)
I want you (yeah, as a matter of fact)
And I cant tell you more than that
As a matter of fact, (ooh, as a matter) yeah (matter)
Aww, blow, daddy
Musical interlude
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Seems love has a funny way
Well, it can come and go or it can choose to stay
But love says what it has to say
(repeat chorus)
Matter of fact (ooh, as a matter of fact)
I love you (oh, as a matter of fact)
Yeah and I love that you love me back
As a matter of fact (ooh, as a matter of fact)
Ooh, ooh, baby
Matter of fact (ooh, as a matter of fact)
I need you (yeah, as a matter of fact)
And Im glad that you need me right back
As a matter of fact
(ooh, as a matter) yeah (a matter)

song performed by Natalie Cole
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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