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I got my degree in rhetoric.

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Life-An immortal Love poetry

Life is unconquerably; resplendent poetry of the most
highest degree; incredibly pacifying every
infinitesimal urge of the miserably unfinished soul,

Life is perpetually; majestic poetry of the most
highest degree; royally gifting countless impoverished
souls; with insatiably unending fantasy,

Life is ubiquitously; vibrant poetry of the most
highest degree; triumphantly metamorphosing each
ethereal trace of misery; into a fireball of
ingratiatingly untamed happiness,

Life is marvelously; bountiful poetry of the most
highest degree; beautifully placating every
hedonistically traumatized agony; with the exuberance
of untainted breath,

Life is indomitably; enchanting poetry of the most
highest degree; harmoniously coalescing every organism
irrespective of caste; creed; color or tribe; into the
religion of Omnipresent oneness,

Life is unceasingly; triumphant poetry of the most
highest degree; wholesomely massacring every speck of
the horrifically parasitic devil; with the scepter of
unshakable righteousness,

Life is tirelessly; fantastic poetry of the most
highest degree; iridescently glimmering like the
stream of ultimate unity; even in the heart of
insidiously macabre midnight,

Life is blessedly; exotic poetry of the most highest
degree; inevitably triggering an unprecedented
maelstrom of eclectic fantasy; in every brain on this
planet; enigmatically alike,

Life is irrefutably; sensuous poetry of the most
highest degree; miraculously rekindling every shade of
claustrophobically dwindling expression; with a wave
of undauntedly perennial heavenliness,

Life is astoundingly; impeccable poetry of the most
highest degree; forever erasing the wounds of
dastardly salaciousness; with its eternal mantra of
everlasting mankind,

Life is unrestrictedly; divinely poetry of the most
highest degree; spell bindingly mollifying every

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Life-An Immortal Poetry

Life is unconquerably; resplendent poetry of the most
highest degree; incredibly pacifying every
infinitesimal urge of the miserably unfinished soul,

Life is perpetually; majestic poetry of the most
highest degree; royally gifting countless impoverished
souls; with insatiably unending fantasy,

Life is ubiquitously; vibrant poetry of the most
highest degree; triumphantly metamorphosing each
ethereal trace of misery; into a fireball of
ingratiatingly untamed happiness,

Life is marvelously; bountiful poetry of the most
highest degree; beautifully placating every
hedonistically traumatized agony; with the exuberance
of untainted breath,

Life is indomitably; enchanting poetry of the most
highest degree; harmoniously coalescing every organism
irrespective of caste; creed; color or tribe; into the
religion of Omnipresent oneness,

Life is unceasingly; triumphant poetry of the most
highest degree; wholesomely massacring every speck of
the horrifically parasitic devil; with the scepter of
unshakable righteousness,

Life is tirelessly; fantastic poetry of the most
highest degree; iridescently glimmering like the
stream of ultimate unity; even in the heart of
insidiously macabre midnight,

Life is blessedly; exotic poetry of the most highest
degree; inevitably triggering an unprecedented
maelstrom of eclectic fantasy; in every brain on this
planet; enigmatically alike,

Life is irrefutably; sensuous poetry of the most
highest degree; miraculously rekindling every shade of
claustrophobically dwindling expression; with a wave
of undauntedly perennial heavenliness,

Life is astoundingly; impeccable poetry of the most
highest degree; forever erasing the wounds of
dastardly salaciousness; with its eternal mantra of
everlasting mankind,

Life is unrestrictedly; divinely poetry of the most
highest degree; spell bindingly mollifying every

[...] Read more

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A Degree

What value
a degree?

A degree is only
worth
what the market
can pay.

Paid from gross national product
a country produces.*
All education is down time... though
a necessary economic luxury.

There is also
credential inflation.**
Redundant technologies
new research techniques
undermining this value.

This is a degrees
financial value.


A degree
is a recognized
level of ignorance.

A measured graded
accounting of markers;
approved component knowledge,
research skills and diction.

Graduate, Honours, Masters, Ph.d.,
in a limited specialized area.

A degree may also
have an egotistical value
be necessary for a career
or needed self esteem.

This is a degrees
intrinsic value.***


If a degree is
necessary to you
it is worth something
essentially valuable

if not a degree

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The Beggar's Daughter of Bednall-Green

Part the First
Itt was a blind beggar, had long lost his sight,
He had a faire daughter of bewty most bright;
And many a gallant brave suiter had shee,
For none was soe comelye as pretty Bessee.

And though shee was of favor most faire,
Yett seing shee was but a poor beggars heyre,
Of ancyent housekeepers despised was shee,
Whose sonnes came as suitors to prettye Bessee.

Wherefore in great sorrow faire Bessy did say,
'Good father, and mother, let me goe away
To seeke out my fortune, whatever itt bee.'
This suite then they granted to prettye Bessee.

Then Bessy, that was of bewtye soe bright,
All cladd in gray russett, and late in the night
From father and mother alone parted shee,
Who sighed and sobbed for prettye Bessee.

Shee went till shee came to Stratford-le-Bow,
Then knew shee not whither, nor which way to goe;
With teares shee lamented her hard destinie,
So sadd and soe heavy was pretty Bessee.

Shee kept on her journey untill it was day,
And went unto Rumford along the hye way;
Where at the Queenes Armes entertained was shee,
Soe faire and wel favoured was pretty Bessee.

Shee had not beene there a month to an end,
But master and mistres and all was her friend;
And every brave gallant that once did her see
Was straight-way enamoured of pretty Bessee.

Great gifts they did send her of silver and gold,
And in their songs daylye her love was extold;
Her beawtye was blazed in every degree,
Soe faire and soe comelye was pretty Bessee.

The young men of Rumford in her had their joy;
Shee shewed herself courteous, and modestlye coye,
And at her commandment still wold they bee,
Soe fayre and so comelye was pretty Bessee.

Foure suitors att once unto her did goe,
They craved her favor, but still she sayd noe;
'I wild not wish gentles to marry with mee,-'
Yett ever they honored pretty Bessee.

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The Court Of Love

With timerous hert and trembling hand of drede,
Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,
Unto the flour of port in womanhede
I write, as he that non intelligence
Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence;
Sauf that me list my writing to convey,
In that I can to please her hygh nobley.


The blosmes fresshe of Tullius garden soote
Present thaim not, my mater for to borne:
Poemes of Virgil taken here no rote,
Ne crafte of Galfrid may not here sojorne:
Why nam I cunning? O well may I morne,
For lak of science that I can-not write
Unto the princes of my life a-right


No termes digne unto her excellence,
So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:
A world of honour and of reverence
There is in her, this wil I testifie.
Calliope, thou sister wise and sly,
And thou, Minerva, guyde me with thy grace,
That langage rude my mater not deface.


Thy suger-dropes swete of Elicon
Distill in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;
And thee, Melpomene, I calle anon,
Of ignoraunce the mist to chace away;
And give me grace so for to write and sey,
That she, my lady, of her worthinesse,
Accepte in gree this litel short tretesse,


That is entitled thus, 'The Court of Love.'
And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,
I you besech, for Venus sake above;
For what I mene in this ye need not muse:
And if so be my lady it refuse
For lak of ornat speche, I wold be wo,
That I presume to her to writen so.


But myn entent and all my besy cure
Is for to write this tretesse, as I can,
Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,
Feithfull and kind, sith first that she began
Me to accept in service as her man:

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A Matter Of Degree

B. SMITH would most undoubtedly be very, very cross
If some rude person called him Jap, and yet, I'm at a loss
To see how he could argue otherwise in that respect:
A Jap is human - or a rumour's rife to that effect.
And he talks and argues much the same as B.
So, if SMITH is not a twin
To his cherished Yellow-skin,
Why it's only just a matter of degree,
Just a trifling little matter of degree.


Now, a Jap is not a monkey. though he's oft compared with such,
And he doesn't look unlike one, so it hardly matters much.
A monkey has a fearsome phiz, and hands that grab at things,
And he imitates his betters - all of which the matter brings
To a very clear conclusion, seems to me,
Which you cannot fairly funk:
If a Jap is not a monk
Ey, it's patently a matter of degree.
And we needn't mind a matter of degree.


Of native monkeys hereabout, of course, you haven't heard;
And a monkey's not a native bear, which, clearly, is absurd,
And yet, a bear clings to a tree with young bears on its back
(My word! we're getting on a rather interesting tack)
Yes, it clings there like the cheerful chimpanzee.
So, if monkeys are not bears
So, overlooking certain petty matters of degree,
We are forced to these conclusions with undoubted certaintee:
B. SMITH'S a Jap, a Jap's an ape (according unto SMITH),
An ape's a bear, a bear's a bunyip, and the last's a myth!
It's as clear as any argument can be
That if our dear friend SMITH
Is not a simple myth
It's an unimportant matter of degree,
Quite a microscopic matter of degree.

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Rhetoric (Acrostic)

: Rhetoric (Acrostic) 090a

Rhetoric is the art of polish and refinement.
Harlot verbiage moving from context to context.
Every now and then causing simple mis-judgement.
Tenses abound within rhetorical speeches.
Orator! When will you, if ever, learn?
Rhetoric shows up many words to be sinful.
Independent, discreet as a testified secret.
Cant saturation, dismiss rhetoric to Limbo.

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George Meredith

The Empty Purse--A Sermon To Our Later Prodigal Son

Thou, run to the dry on this wayside bank,
Too plainly of all the propellers bereft!
Quenched youth, and is that thy purse?
Even such limp slough as the snake has left
Slack to the gale upon spikes of whin,
For cast-off coat of a life gone blank,
In its frame of a grin at the seeker, is thine;
And thine to crave and to curse
The sweet thing once within.
Accuse him: some devil committed the theft,
Which leaves of the portly a skin,
No more; of the weighty a whine.

Pursue him: and first, to be sure of his track,
Over devious ways that have led to this,
In the stream's consecutive line,
Let memory lead thee back
To where waves Morning her fleur-de-lys,
Unflushed at the front of the roseate door
Unopened yet: never shadow there
Of a Tartarus lighted by Dis
For souls whose cry is, alack!
An ivory cradle rocks, apeep
Through his eyelashes' laugh, a breathing pearl.
There the young chief of the animals wore
A likeness to heavenly hosts, unaware
Of his love of himself; with the hours at leap.
In a dingle away from a rutted highroad,
Around him the earliest throstle and merle,
Our human smile between milk and sleep,
Effervescent of Nature he crowed.
Fair was that season; furl over furl
The banners of blossom; a dancing floor
This earth; very angels the clouds; and fair
Thou on the tablets of forehead and breast:
Careless, a centre of vigilant care.
Thy mother kisses an infant curl.
The room of the toys was a boundless nest,
A kingdom the field of the games,
Till entered the craving for more,
And the worshipped small body had aims.
A good little idol, as records attest,
When they tell of him lightly appeased in a scream
By sweets and caresses: he gave but sign
That the heir of a purse-plumped dominant race,
Accustomed to plenty, not dumb would pine.
Almost magician, his earliest dream
Was lord of the unpossessed
For a look; himself and his chase,
As on puffs of a wind at whirl,

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Down On Your Knees

Alright, ooh yeah
Are you ready to rock, Im talking about satisfaction
So lets cut the talk, yeah, and get on with the action
Better make up your mind, girl, cause its now or never
Its getting down to the night, yeah, and I aint waiting forever
Shes alright, cause shes all I got tonight
Shes alright, and shes eager to please
Down on your knees, this is love in the first degree
Down on your knees, and tonight the lovins on me
Are you ready to rock, babe, she saw me coming for miles
So let me see what you got
cause darling, youll be driving me wild
Better make up your mind, girl, cause its now or never
Its getting down to the night, girl, and I aint waiting forever
I aint waiting, girl
Shes alright, cause shes all I got tonight
Shes alright, and shes eager to please
Down on your knees, this is love in the first degree
Down on your knees, and tonight the lovins on me
Get down
Now that you got me real worked up
What you gonna do with me
Now that you got me really hot
Im easy to please
Down on your knees, its this love in the first degree
Down on your knees, yeah tonight the lovins on me
Down on your knees, this is love in the first degree
Down on your knees, yeah tonight the lovins on me
Im down on my knees, this is love in the first degree
Im down on my knees, yeah tonight the lovins on me
Down on my knees, this is love in the first degree
Down on my knees

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Guilty Of Love

(coverdale)
I believe my love for you
Is a love that will last forever,
An Im here to testify
Im a prisoner of your heart
Baby dont you believe
When I tell you I love you
That I really mean it,
Dont you walk away,
Dont you turn your back on me
Im guilty of love,
Its a crime of passion
Guilty of love,
An theres no doubt about it,
No doubt about it
Im guilty of love,
Im guilty of love,
Im guilty,
In the first degree
Guilty of love,
Im guilty of love,
Im guilty,
In the first degree
I can never forget the times
When I took what you gave me for granted
So I stand accused
An I plead guilty to the crime
You can lock me away if you want
Just as long as your arms are around me,
An I wont mind
If you just throw away the key
Im guilty of love,
Its a crime of passion
Guilty of love,
An theres no doubt about it,
No doubt about it
Guilty of love,
Im guilty of love,
Im guilty,
In the first degree
Guilty of love,
Im guilty of love,
Im guilty,
In the first degree
Guilty of love...
Im guilty of love,
Its a crime of passion
Guilty of love,
An theres no doubt about it,
No doubt about it

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Qualified to Make Productive Contributions

Do you have a degree?

'A degree in what? '

You know?
Something that validates your intelligence!

'Oh...
Something that documents my discipline,
And education?
Something that verifies my verity,
To conform to the wholesomeness of humanity.
And I am now qualified to make productive contributions?
My life lived,
Has already provided the requirements.'

Uh...yeah...I guess.
Whatever that was you said.

'And...
I imagine you have at least 'one' degree? '

Of course!
I got me two.
And I'm gon' get me a job that pays.

'Hopefully not to teach English!
And...
Suppose I did not have that 'degree'.
Would that make my efforts less credible?
Would that make a fame or notoriety less worthy?

IF...
I should pursue that route.
I know this is difficult for you to believe...
But a degree doesn't measure my success felt.
And I feel pretty damn successful! '

So...
You 'do' have a degree?

'You've missed my point entirely.
And you...
Have been depicted as a scholar?
God...
Thank you for opening my mind,
And doors! '

OH!
So you've studied to be a minister?

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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

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Tupelo Honey

You can take all the tea in china
Put it in a big brown bag for me
Sail right around the seven oceans
Drop it straight into the deep blue sea
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee
You cant stop us on the road to freedom
You cant keep us cause our eyes can see
Men with insight, men in granite
Knights in armor bent on chivalry
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee
You cant stop us on the road to freedom
You cant stop us cause our eyes can see
Men with insight, men in granite
Knights in armor intent on chivalry
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee
You know shes alright
You know shes alright with me
Shes alright, shes alright (shes an angel)
You can take all the tea in china
Put it in a big brown bag for me
Sail it right around the seven oceans
Drop it smack dab in the middle of the deep blue sea
Because shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like the honey, baby, from the bee
Shes my baby, you know shes alright.....
A posting to the van mailing list may/96 notes the existence of a lost verse to this song, here transcribed from a performance on the van morrison in ireland concert video:
Theres a rose pressed inside a bible
That she reads on the balcony
Shes sweet in slumber and Ive got her number
For the beginning of the century.
Van list member art siegel comments in nov/97 that I dont think the rose in the Bible is a true lost verse, but rather one that van added to his live performances years after the origin
Here is, though, a true lost verse which is in the original sheet music:
Ill tell a tale of old manhattan
Adirondack bus to go
Standing waiting on my number

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Degree In Life

There are some people
both old and young.
They’ve done something once
and the next minute they know all about it.
They say they have degrees in this and that.
In the biggest degree of them all
they have all fallen flat.
With the degree of life,
you first have to live it,
before you can get awarded that.
You have to suffer all
the indignations and pains
that there are there,
all the joys and the happiness,
triumphs can share.
You have to look into
the darkest soul
and know what goes on in there.
As for those who say they know it all,
those are the ones who have just stopped wetting the bed.
You’ll never have that degree
until you start living
and stop saying the world loves me.
Some say I’ve taken drugs.
What the hell has that got to do with it.
It only goes to show one thing,
how weak minded you are.
It isn’t a mark on the degree of life.
A degree of life measures
how strong you are in mind
and not how many
hallucinations you’ve had in your head.

14 December 2007

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John Dryden

Palamon And Arcite; Or, The Knight's Tale. From Chaucer. In Three Books. Book III.

The day approached when Fortune should decide
The important enterprise, and give the bride;
For now the rivals round the world had sought,
And each his number, well appointed, brought.
The nations far and near contend in choice,
And send the flower of war by public voice;
That after or before were never known
Such chiefs, as each an army seemed alone:
Beside the champions, all of high degree,
Who knighthood loved, and deeds of chivalry,
Thronged to the lists, and envied to behold
The names of others, not their own, enrolled.
Nor seems it strange; for every noble knight
Who loves the fair, and is endued with might,
In such a quarrel would be proud to fight.
There breathes not scarce a man on British ground
(An isle for love and arms of old renowned)
But would have sold his life to purchase fame,
To Palamon or Arcite sent his name;
And had the land selected of the best,
Half had come hence, and let the world provide the rest.
A hundred knights with Palamon there came,
Approved in fight, and men of mighty name;
Their arms were several, as their nations were,
But furnished all alike with sword and spear.

Some wore coat armour, imitating scale,
And next their skins were stubborn shirts of mail;
Some wore a breastplate and a light juppon,
Their horses clothed with rich caparison;
Some for defence would leathern bucklers use
Of folded hides, and others shields of Pruce.
One hung a pole-axe at his saddle-bow,
And one a heavy mace to stun the foe;
One for his legs and knees provided well,
With jambeux armed, and double plates of steel;
This on his helmet wore a lady's glove,
And that a sleeve embroidered by his love.

With Palamon above the rest in place,
Lycurgus came, the surly king of Thrace;
Black was his beard, and manly was his face
The balls of his broad eyes rolled in his head,
And glared betwixt a yellow and a red;
He looked a lion with a gloomy stare,
And o'er his eyebrows hung his matted hair;
Big-boned and large of limbs, with sinews strong,
Broad-shouldered, and his arms were round and long.
Four milk-white bulls (the Thracian use of old)
Were yoked to draw his car of burnished gold.

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Observe the Quality of Your Way of Life

A degree?
I think I have a couple,
Of those worthless things myself.
A man with a mind,
And a mission he can produce.
Needs to network his talents.
And not become seduced,
By pledging to fraternities.
To become induced by materialism.
Pursued by greed.
Like those in such selective groups do.
Those who now say,
They can do what they choose!

A degree only shows a conformity to rules.
By an approval stamped on a piece of paper.
Proving the one receiving it...
Is fit to be shown,
How to screw over others too!

Observe the quality of your way of life.
Who with a degree has made it right?
Who with a BA, MA and/or PHD...
Has shown they had sense enough,
To avoid mistakes made...
That has brought today's economy,
To the brink of a catastrophe!

Who with a degree,
Can insist they have common sense?
And if this debate leads into an argument...
Be prepared to defend yourself.
Since talking BS politics...
Those educated,
Do their best at it!

A degree?
I think I have a couple,
Of those worthless things myself.
A man with a mind,
And a mission he can produce.
Needs to network his talents.
And not become seduced...
By the wickedness of luxuries.
That has increased more crime.
With homelessness and hunger!
Hosted by a society...
Dieting on addictions of all kinds!

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Love In The First Degree

Words and music by jim hurt and tim dubois
I once thopught of love as a prison a place I didnt want to be.
So long ago I made a decision to be footloose and fancy free.
But you cam I was so tempted to gamble on love just one time.
I never thought I would get caught.
It seemed liek the perfect crime.
Chorus:
Baby, you left me defneseless.
Ive only got one plea.
Lock me away inside of your love and throw away the key.
Im guilty of love in the first degree.
I thought it would be so simple, like a thousand times before.
Id take what I wanted and just walk away, but I never made it to the door.
Now babe, Im not beggin for mercy.
Go ahead and throw the book at me.
If lovin yous a crime, I know that Im as guilty as a man can be.
Chorus
Oh yeah. oh yeah.
Chorus
Oh yeah. love in the first degree.
Love in the first degree.
Love in the first degree.

song performed by AlabamaReport problemRelated quotes
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Tupelo Honey

(van morrison)
You can take all the tea in china
Put it in a big brown bag for me
Sail right round the seven oceans
Drop it straight into the deep blue sea
Hes as sweet as tupelo honey
Hes an angel of the first degree
Hes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey, baby, from the bee
Now you cant stop us on the road to freedom
You cant keep us cause our eyes can see
Men with insight, men in granite
Knights in armour bent on chivalry
Hes as sweet as tupelo honey
Hes an angel of the first degree
Hes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey, baby, from the bee
I heard a tale of old manhattan
Ive never been there, but I want, wanna go
Standing waiting on my number
And my number, its gonna show
Hes as sweet as tupelo, tupelo honey
Hes an angel of the first degree
Hes as sweet, hes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey, baby, from the bee
Hes as sweet, hes as sweet as tupelo honey
Hes an angel of the first degree
Hes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey, baby, from the bee
Hes as sweet, hes as sweet

song performed by Dusty SpringfieldReport problemRelated quotes
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One Little Victory

A certain measure of innocence
willing to appears naive
a certain degree of imagination
a measure of make-beleive
a certain degree of surrender
to the forces of light and heat
a shot of satisfaction
Celebrate the moment
as it turns into one more
another chance at victory
another chance to score
the measure of the moment
is a difference of degree
just one little victory
a spirite breaking free
one little victory
the greatest act can be one little victory
a certain measure of righteousness
a certain amout of force
a certain degree of determination
daring on a different course
acertain amout of resistance
to the force of life and love
a certain measure of tolerence
a willingness to rise above

song performed by RushReport problemRelated quotes
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The Victories Of Love. Book I

I
From Frederick Graham

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

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

[...] Read more

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