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I have many regrets, and I'm sure everyone does. The stupid things you do, you regret... if you have any sense, and if you don't regret them, maybe you're stupid.

quote by Katharine Hepburn
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Believer's Principles : Chap. IV.

Faith and Sense Natural, compared and distinguished.

When Abram's body, Sarah's womb,
Were ripe for nothing but the tomb,
Exceeding old, and wholly dead,
Unlike to bear the promis'd seed:

Faith said, 'I shall an Isaac see;'
'No, no,' said Sense, 'it cannot be;'
Blind Reason, to augment the strife,
Adds, 'How can death engender life?'

My heart is like a rotten tomb,
More dead than ever Sarah's womb;
O! can the promis'd seed of grace
Spring forth from such a barren place?

Sense gazing but on flinty rocks,
My hope and expectation chokes:
But could I, skill'd in Abram's art,
O'erlook my dead and barren heart;

And build my hope on nothing less
That divine pow'r and faithfulness;
Soon would I find him raise up sons
To Abram, out of rocks and stones.

Faith acts as busy boatmen do,
Who backward look and forward row;
It looks intent to things unseen,
Thinks objects visible too mean.

Sense thinks it madness thus to steer,
And only trusts its eye and ear;
Into faith's boat dare thrust its oar,
And put it further from the shore.

Faith does alone the promise eye;
Sense won't believe unless it see;
Nor can it trust the divine guide,
Unless it have both wind and tide.

Faith thinks the promise sure and good;
Sense doth depend on likelihood;
Faith ev'n in storms believes the seers;
Sense calls all men, ev'n prophets, liars.

Faith uses means, but rests on none;
Sense sails when outward means are gone:

[...] Read more

poem by Ralph Erskine
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Dare To Be Stupid

Put down your chainsaw and listen to me
Its time for us to join in the fight
Its time to let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Its time to let the bedbugs bite
You better put all your eggs in one basket
You better count your chickens before they hatch
You better sell some wine before its/its time
You better find yourself an itch to scratch
You better squeeze all the charmin you can while mr. wimpoles not around
Stick your head in the microwave and get yourself a tan
Talk with your mouth full
Bite the hand that feeds you
Bite on more than you chew
What can you do
Dare to be stupid
Take some wooden nickles
Look for mr. goodbar
Get your mojo working now
Ill show you how
You can dare to be stupid
You can turn the other cheek
You can just give up the ship
You can eat a bunch of sushi and forget to leave a tip
Dare to be stupid
Come on and dare to be stupid
Its so easy to do
Dare to be stupid
Were all waiting for you
Lets go
Its time to make a mountain out of a molehill
So can I have a volunteer
Theres no more time for crying over spilled milk
Now its time for crying in your beer
Settle down, raise a family, join the pta
Buy some sensible shoes and a chevyrolet
And party till youre broke and they drive you away
Its ok, you can dare to be stupid
Its like spitting on a fish
Its like barking up a tree
Its like I said you gotta buy one if you wanna get one free
Dare to be stupid (yes)
Why dont you dare to be stupid
Its so easy to do
Dare to be stupid
Were all waiting for you
Dare to be stupid
Burn your candle at both ends
Look a gift horse in the mouth
Mashed potatoes can be your friends
You can be a coffee achiever

[...] Read more

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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It Makes More Sense

It makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.

It makes more sense,
To walk away than to be petty.
And it makes more sense,
To prevent a thumping headache.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Many fools love to do.

And it makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Fools love to do.

And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.

And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.

Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stupid

So sad to hear that you dont want to hang around with me
So lame to see you leave and to know that you believe that its over
Cause when your weak I feel the need to get underneith your skin
And when you start to tweak I find a way to get up beside you
Stupid, stupid, stupid
Stupid, stupid, stupid
In time youll learn to love me as much as you love yourself
Oh in time youll learn to hate me
Cause when I feel the need to have you back by my side
I am sweet it makes me sick to know that I can be so blind
Stupid, stupid, stupid
Stupid, stupid, stupid
Stupid, stupid, stupid
Stupid, stupid, stupid

song performed by Oleander
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jughead

Keep it nice and quiet, keep it nice and quiet
What the hell was that?
(hey yall, I thought we bust this new hype before)
All across the land
(new dance commercial take 2)
Rio, marbella - we gettin stupid
Ha, germany, paris france - we gettin stupid
Yeah, stockholm sweden, we love ya
Let me shed, its easier said code red
Bust the new groove just hyped 4 the jughead
Bass thumpin everybodys doin the bumpin
Oops, I slipped on a move
I think its time 2 bust somethin
Sleazy, but cool and easy
(is this the right one? )
Yeah - this is 4 the hood
Better keep it greasy
Better yet on a smooth tip
I dont wanna sweat
I want my slimmie 2 get with this
Move your head and shoulders from side 2 side
Take your back foot, and then u let it slide
Yo, in a fade motion, lots of attitude, coast 2 coast
Then ure floatin homeboys boastin -
U made his skeeze freeze
Uve been chosen, p
Ladies and gentlemen, npg introduces the...
Jughead (jughead)
Yeah, we gettin funky in the house tonite
Kickin the jughead (doin the jughead)
Come on, get stupid, get stupid
Kickin the jughead (jughead)
Oh yeah, we gettin funky in the house tonite
Kickin the jughead, yeah (doin the jughead)
Wait a minute, whats he doin? (get stupid, get stupid)
Well, mack daddy in the house over there
What u doin dawg?
(gettin busy g, kickin the jughead)
Yeah, babys gettin busy in my face
Cold housin a future
Everything has been well placed
This daddys 2 fly
He bust the jughead as he floats to the other side
U watch the rotation, theres a bit of hesitation
This is some new hype stuff ure facin
U gotta come with a new git
The j-u-g-h-e-a-d, and Im flowin with it
U could say Im on a roll
Npg and yall, and were gettin bold, oh
Yes - bold steps must be taken

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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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,

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Pope
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No Cabin Fever Here

Many can get restless,
When a cabin fever comes to test.
And...
They must be living in a debt.
And pressured by regret.

Many can get restless,
When a cabin fever comes to test.
And...
Wishing to escape,
Through a door that has a blocked exit.

But nothing's going to keep me...
Locked up and away,
From Mama Nature.

I don't have those regrets!

Nothing's going to keep me...
Locked up and away,
From Mama Nature.

I don't have those regrets!

Many can get restless,
When a cabin fever comes to test.
And...
They must be living in a debt.
And pressured by regret.

Many can get restless,
When a cabin fever comes to test.
And...
Wishing to escape,
Through a door that has a blocked exit.

But nothing's going to keep me...
Locked up and away,
From Mama Nature.

I don't have those regrets!

No cabin fever!

I don't have those regrets!

No cabin fever here!

I don't have those regrets!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stupid Cupid

stupid cupid
on that stupid day
hits my stupid heart
with his stupid arrow

stupid blood flows
from my stupid heart
and you are there
stupid enough to
just watch me

on that stupid day
i fall in love with you
and so stupid enough
i never tell you

and you are there
on that stupid day
watching me
and stupid enough
you love me too
but never tell me

stupid day stupid love
stupid cupid stupid us

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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STUPID PEOPLE...by Talile Ali

STUPID PEOPLE EVERYWHERE
STUPID PEOPLE WITHOUT A CARE
STUPID PEOPLE WANNA SHARE
STUPID PEOPLE IN MY HAIR

IM IN THE UNITED STATES OF STUPID PEOPLE

STUPID PEOPLE ALL THEY WROTE
STUPID PEOPLE WHO THEY QUOTE
STUPID PEOPLE GET AROUND
STUPID PEOPLE THAT I FOUND

I'M IN THE SQUALLER AND THE WIT OF STUPID PEOPLE

STUPID PEOPLE SO I SWEAR
STUPID PEOPLE I DON'T DARE
STUPID PEOPLE ALL AROUND
STUPID PEOPLE LOST AND FOUND

CAN I GET A BREAK FROM BEING AROUND YOU
STUPID PEOPLE

poem by Talile Ali
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Stupido Stupido

(bacharach / david / cassia)
Italian language song set to the music of wishin and hopin
Stupido, stupido perch? fai cos? tutte le volte che io dico no
Non voglio venire a bailar
Mi piace un altro che non fa
Come lo stupido, stupido, stupido cos? come te
Stupid, stupid why do you behave like that
Every time I say no?
I dont want to come and dance
I like another boy who doesnt act
Stupid, stupid, stupid like you
Bello no non ? ma lamor
Sai perch? mi sa capir
E sa parlar damore
Come tu non sei, no non saprai mai
Perch? tu non sei che stupido, stupido sempre di pi? quello che dici non voglio ascoltar
Lui solo pu? farmi sognar
Tra le sue braccia sento che
Lui non ? stupido stupido, stupido perch?
Perch? mi fa tremar, tremar damor
Hes not goodlooking but I love him
Do you know why? he understands me
And he knows how to talk about love
But you dont, no, youll never know
Because youre just stupid, more and more stupid
I dont want to listen to what you say
Only he can make me dream
In his arms I feel that
Hes not stupid, stupid, stupid because
Because he makes me tremble, tremble with love
Bello no non ? ma lamor
Sai perch? mi sa capir
E sa parlar damore
Come tu non sei, no non saprai mai
Perch? tu non sei che stupido, stupido sempre di pi? quello che dici non voglio ascoltar
Lui solo pu? farmi sognar
Tra le sue braccia sento che
Lui non ? stupido, stupido, stupido perch?
Perch? mi fa tremar, tremar damor
Tremar damor
Tremar damor
Hes not goodlooking but I love him
Do you know why? he understands me
And he knows how to talk about love
But you dont, no, youll never know
Because youre just stupid, more and more stupid
I dont want to listen to what you say
Only he can make me dream
In his arms I feel that
Hes not stupid, stupid, stupid because

[...] Read more

song performed by Dusty Springfield
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The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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The Victories Of Love. Book II

I
From Jane To Her Mother

Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
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No Regrets

BOUNCE B-side
Thunder cracks, the sky is crying
On her back she's pushing, trying
He holds her hand and kneels beside her bed
Break the silence, baby's screaming
In slow motion she ain't dreaming
She closed her eyes, looked up to God and says
Should I cry a little more?
Should I try a little more?
I pay the cost and laugh it off
And do it all a thousand times again
No regrets
Living's hard and dying's easy
My mistakes, they won't defeat me
I like to burn a candle at both ends
I broke some hearts, been broken hearted
Run away from fires I've started
I didn't break but tried my best to bend
Should I cry a little more?
Should I try a little more?
I pay the cost and laugh it off
And do it all a thousand times again
No regrets for things I've done
No regrets for wars I've won
No regrets for fires I've started
No regrets for faith departed
Hey, Hey
Thunder cracks, the sky is crying
On her back she's pushing, trying
Holds her hand and kneels beside her
Only faith left there to guide her
Should I cry a little more?
Should I try a little more?
Should I lie a little more?
Or get high a little more?
I pay the cost and laugh it off
And do it all a thousand times
Should I ...
Should I ...
Should I ...
No regrets
No regrets
No regrets
No regrets

song performed by Bon Jovi
Added by Lucian Velea
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Miss Piggy regrets..

Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today, madam..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today:
That tastelessly named flu’s got her
(She forgot to wash her front trotter…) so
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today..

Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today, madam..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today:
It’s a swine of a stroke of bad luck:
Her eyelashes, she sneezed them unstuck… so
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today…

Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today, madam..
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today:
She’s all pink from her snout to her face;
Her mascara’s all over the place… so
Miss Piggy regrets she’s unable to lunch today..

Why not try the lamb today, madam…?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Rosciad

Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.

Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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Im So Stupid

cause I used to live
In a fuzzy dream
And I wanted to be
Like all the pretty people
Im so stupid
cause I used to live
In a fuzzy dream
And I used to believe
In a pretty pictures
That were all around me
But now I know for sure
That I was stupid
Chorus:
Please dont try to tempt me
It was just greed
And it wont protect me
Dont want my dreams
Adding up to nothing
I was just looking for
Everybodys looking for something
Im so stupid
cause I used to live
In a tiny bubble
And I wanted to be
Like all the pretty people
That were all around me
But now I know for sure
That I was stupid
Stupider than stupid
Stupider than stupid
Stupider than stupid
(chorus)
Everybodys looking for something
Everybodys stupid stupid
Everybodys looking for something
Everybodys stupid stupid
Everybodys looking for something
Everybodys stupid stupid
Everybodys looking for something
Everybody, everybody
(chorus)

song performed by Madonna
Added by Lucian Velea
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No Regrets

Harry tobias / ingraham
No regrets
Although our love affair has gone astray
No regrets
I know Ill always care though youre away
So now our happy romance ended suddenly
Still in my heart youll be forever mine
No regrets
Because somebody new looks good to you
No regrets
Sweetheart no matter what you say or do
I know our love will linger
When the other love forgets
So I say goodbye with no regrets
No regrets
Because somebody new looks good to you
No regrets
Sweetheart no matter what you say or do
I know our love will linger
When the other love forgets
So I say goodbye with no regrets

song performed by Billie Holiday
Added by Lucian Velea
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Stupid Girl

You pretend you're high
Pretend you're bored
Pretend you're anything
Just to be adored
And what you need
Is what you get

Don't believe in fear
Don't believe in faith
Don't believe in anything
That you can't break

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
All you had you wasted
All you had you wasted

What drives you on
Can drive you mad
A million lies to sell yourself
Is all you ever had

Don't believe in love
Don't believe in hate
Don't believe in anything
That you can't waste

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
Can't believe you fake it
Can't believe you fake it

Don't believe in fear
Don't believe in pain
Don't believe in anyone
That you can't tame

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
All you had you wasted
All you had you wasted

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
Can't believe you fake it
Can't believe you fake it

You stupid girl
You stupid girl
Can't believe you fake it

[...] Read more

song performed by Garbage
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lucky

Thunder cracks, the sky is crying
On her back shes pushing trying
He holds her hand and kneels beside her bed
Break the silence baby screaming
In slow motion she aint dreaming she closed her eyes looked
Up to God and says
Should I cry a little more
Should I try a little more
Id pay the cost and laugh it off
Id do it all a thousand times again
No Regrets
Livings hard and dyings easy
My mistakes they wont defeat me
I like to burn the candle at both ends
Ive broke some hearts been broken hearted
Ive run away from fires Ive started
I didnt break but tried my best to bend
Should I cry a little more
Should I try a little more
Id pay the cost and laugh it off
Id do it all a thousand times again
No Regrets
No regrets-for things Ive done
No regrets-for wars Ive won
No regrets-for fires Ive started
No regrets-for faith departed
Should I cry a little more
Should I die a little more
Should I lie a little more
Should I get high a little more
Should I cry a little more
Should I try a little more
Id pay the cost and laugh it off
Id do it all a thousand times again
No Regrets

song performed by Bon Jovi
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Gotham - Book II

How much mistaken are the men who think
That all who will, without restraint may drink,
May largely drink, e'en till their bowels burst,
Pleading no right but merely that of thirst,
At the pure waters of the living well,
Beside whose streams the Muses love to dwell!
Verse is with them a knack, an idle toy,
A rattle gilded o'er, on which a boy
May play untaught, whilst, without art or force,
Make it but jingle, music comes of course.
Little do such men know the toil, the pains,
The daily, nightly racking of the brains,
To range the thoughts, the matter to digest,
To cull fit phrases, and reject the rest;
To know the times when Humour on the cheek
Of Mirth may hold her sports; when Wit should speak,
And when be silent; when to use the powers
Of ornament, and how to place the flowers,
So that they neither give a tawdry glare,
'Nor waste their sweetness in the desert air;'
To form, (which few can do, and scarcely one,
One critic in an age, can find when done)
To form a plan, to strike a grand outline,
To fill it up, and make the picture shine
A full and perfect piece; to make coy Rhyme
Renounce her follies, and with Sense keep time;
To make proud Sense against her nature bend,
And wear the chains of Rhyme, yet call her friend.
Some fops there are, amongst the scribbling tribe,
Who make it all their business to describe,
No matter whether in or out of place;
Studious of finery, and fond of lace,
Alike they trim, as coxcomb Fancy brings,
The rags of beggars, and the robes of kings.
Let dull Propriety in state preside
O'er her dull children, Nature is their guide;
Wild Nature, who at random breaks the fence
Of those tame drudges, Judgment, Taste, and Sense,
Nor would forgive herself the mighty crime
Of keeping terms with Person, Place, and Time.
Let liquid gold emblaze the sun at noon,
With borrow'd beams let silver pale the moon;
Let surges hoarse lash the resounding shore,
Let streams meander, and let torrents roar;
Let them breed up the melancholy breeze,
To sigh with sighing, sob with sobbing trees;
Let vales embroidery wear; let flowers be tinged
With various tints; let clouds be laced or fringed,
They have their wish; like idle monarch boys,
Neglecting things of weight, they sigh for toys;

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poem by Charles Churchill
Added by Poetry Lover
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