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All I want is the best of everything and there's very little of that left.

quote by Cecil Beaton
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March of Memories

Left, right - left, right . . .
We march today for memories (the grizzled Digger said)
Memories of lost dreams and comrades gone ahead
Comrades bloody war took, dreams that men have slain
(Left, right - left, right . . .) Not ours to dream again.
There was Shorty Hall and Len Pratt, Long Joe and Blue,
Skeet and Brolga Houlihan, and Fat and me and you:
Bright lads, the old bunch; eager lads and keen
That first day we marched down thro' this familiar scene.
Dreams were ours, and high hopes went with us overseas.
(Left, right - left, right . . . ) And now 'tis memories.

We march again for memories (the grizzled Digger sighed)
Memories of lost mates, of foolish hopes that died.
First, Shorty got his issue on the beach at Sari Bair.
(Left, right - left, right . . .) The vision of him there
Brought the dawn of disillusion. I needed little more
To blood me to the butchery, the filthiness called war.
Shorty, like a limp rag, slung there anyhow,
Sprawling on the warm sand like I can see him now.
Always was a merry mate, a rare lad for fun.
(Left, right - left, right . . .) And Shorty, that was one.

We march today for memories; and they come crowding fast
As each year adds another page to the story of the past.
Pratt went west at Mena Base; raved of home and peace.
(Left, right - left, right . . . ) His was a kind release.
For a Lone Pine shell-burst got him; and he was less than man.
'Twas a sniper's bullet bore the name of Brolga Houlihan.
We called him Happy Houlihan, the man who took a chance.
Then the Reaper paused and plotted for the rest of them in France -
Except Long Joe, the luckless, a youth ill-shaped for war.
(Left, right - left, right . . .) And Long Joe was four.

We march today for memories. Little else had we
When we marched home as veterans. Blue and you and me.
For Skeet went with a night raid, and none came back alive.
(Left, right - left, right . . .) So Skeet, he tallied five.
Five gone and four to fight; us and Blue and Fat,
Who vowed he was too big to hit; but a whizz-bang settled that.
Yet Fat was lucky to the end - an end that held no pain.
All hell erupted where he stood; and none saw him again.
And Blue marched, and you marched, and I, a war-torn three.
(Left. right - left, right . . . ) Marched with memory.

We march again with memories (the grizzled Digger spake)
One year? Ten years? How soon shall we awake
To glorious reality? For lately it would seem -
(Left, right - left, right . . .) - we march within a dream.
Where Shorty is, and Blue is, and Happy Houlihan,

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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All We Got Left Is The Beat

[Intro]
Ey, ey, check it out homie
man, you need to get up out of this spot man
and get a job man before you get smoked man
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah son...)
I know you don't wanna hear it man
but, ey, man, wait, hold up loc. you got company man
(where's my guns?)
[Gunshot]
[LL Cool J]
When I'm ridin' on the street I hear gunshots [rare shots]
(swear) crack niggas cause they moms missed flips
So black man really care about politics
In the ninety's, our governments so slick
I watch CNN sometimes and I realize
they're playin' tricks on my mind
They want a man to work with his hands
Too young to die, and they don't give a damn
Rare-momma got down on her knees
But not no more, god damn it, I make cheese
I'm on the move and I'ma show and prove
you might cry to my political groove
Rest in peace, Sauce Brothers underneath
I love you to death while my beats' like a reef
In the middle of the night on the city streets
The only thing we got left is the beat
[Chorus: LL Cool J]
All we got left is the beat, is the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, huh, give it to me
All we got left is the beat, the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, uh
[LL Cool J]
Who brings guns into the USA?
And then makes sure that they come around the way
Gain the points until the whole race traps
And teach up my woman that she should call up the cops
The projects are hell, wait a, minute
There's nothin' we do but ride on top of an elevator
Say the clubs, I can't get a job
Mouth to feed, somebody's gettin' robbed
I ain't worked, but I ain't workin' for crumbs
You ever seen a man-shelter?
Check out the bombs!!!
Brother of pain, their whole lives are over
They spent every dime tryin' not to be sober
And all the ladies got bags of clothes
They'll be your long lost momma, one never knows
The streets are like a nightmare
While the presidents secretary is chillin' in his leather chair
[Chorus: LL Cool J]

[...] Read more

song performed by LL Cool J
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Lara. A Tale

The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain,
And slavery half forgets her feudal chain;
He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord--
The long self-exiled chieftain is restored:
There be bright faces in the busy hall,
Bowls on the board, and banners on the wall;
Far chequering o'er the pictured window, plays
The unwonted fagots' hospitable blaze;
And gay retainers gather round the hearth,
With tongues all loudness, and with eyes all mirth.

II.
The chief of Lara is return'd again:
And why had Lara cross'd the bounding main?
Left by his sire, too young such loss to know,
Lord of himself;--that heritage of woe,
That fearful empire which the human breast
But holds to rob the heart within of rest!--
With none to check, and few to point in time
The thousand paths that slope the way to crime;
Then, when he most required commandment, then
Had Lara's daring boyhood govern'd men.
It skills not, boots not, step by step to trace
His youth through all the mazes of its race;
Short was the course his restlessness had run,
But long enough to leave him half undone.

III.
And Lara left in youth his fatherland;
But from the hour he waved his parting hand
Each trace wax'd fainter of his course, till all
Had nearly ceased his memory to recall.
His sire was dust, his vassals could declare,
'Twas all they knew, that Lara was not there;
Nor sent, nor came he, till conjecture grew
Cold in the many, anxious in the few.
His hall scarce echoes with his wonted name,
His portrait darkens in its fading frame,
Another chief consoled his destined bride,
The young forgot him, and the old had died;
'Yet doth he live!' exclaims the impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.
A hundred scutcheons deck with gloomy grace
The Laras' last and longest dwelling-place;
But one is absent from the mouldering file,
That now were welcome to that Gothic pile.

IV.
He comes at last in sudden loneliness,
And whence they know not, why they need not guess;

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Pharsalia - Book III: Massilia

With canvas yielding to the western wind
The navy sailed the deep, and every eye
Gazed on Ionian billows. But the chief
Turned not his vision from his native shore
Now left for ever, while the morning mists
Drew down upon the mountains, and the cliffs
Faded in distance till his aching sight
No longer knew them. Then his wearied frame
Sank in the arms of sleep. But Julia's shape,
In mournful guise, dread horror on her brow,
Rose through the gaping earth, and from her tomb
Erect, in form as of a Fury spake:
'Driven from Elysian fields and from the plains
The blest inhabit, when the war began,
I dwell in Stygian darkness where abide
The souls of all the guilty. There I saw
Th' Eumenides with torches in their hands
Prepared against thy battles; and the fleets
Which by the ferryman of the flaming stream
Were made to bear thy dead: while Hell itself
Relaxed its punishments; the sisters three
With busy fingers all their needful task
Could scarce accomplish, and the threads of fate
Dropped from their weary hands. With me thy wife,
Thou, Magnus, leddest happy triumphs home:
New wedlock brings new luck. Thy concubine,
Whose star brings all her mighty husbands ill,
Cornelia, weds in thee a breathing tomb.
Through wars and oceans let her cling to thee
So long as I may break thy nightly rest:
No moment left thee for her love, but all
By night to me, by day to Caesar given.
Me not the oblivious banks of Lethe's stream
Have made forgetful; and the kings of death
Have suffered me to join thee; in mid fight
I will be with thee, and my haunting ghost
Remind thee Caesar's daughter was thy spouse.
Thy sword kills not our pledges; civil war
Shall make thee wholly mine.' She spake and fled.
But he, though heaven and hell thus bode defeat,
More bent on war, with mind assured of ill,
'Why dread vain phantoms of a dreaming brain?
Or nought of sense and feeling to the soul
Is left by death; or death itself is nought.'

Now fiery Titan in declining path
Dipped to the waves, his bright circumference
So much diminished as a growing moon
Not yet full circled, or when past the full;
When to the fleet a hospitable coast

[...] Read more

poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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Lara

LARA. [1]

CANTO THE FIRST.

I.

The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, [2]
And slavery half forgets her feudal chain;
He, their unhoped, but unforgotten lord —
The long self-exiled chieftain is restored:
There be bright faces in the busy hall,
Bowls on the board, and banners on the wall;
Far chequering o'er the pictured window, plays
The unwonted fagots' hospitable blaze;
And gay retainers gather round the hearth,
With tongues all loudness, and with eyes all mirth.

II.

The chief of Lara is return'd again:
And why had Lara cross'd the bounding main?
Left by his sire, too young such loss to know,
Lord of himself; — that heritage of woe,
That fearful empire which the human breast
But holds to rob the heart within of rest! —
With none to check, and few to point in time
The thousand paths that slope the way to crime;
Then, when he most required commandment, then
Had Lara's daring boyhood govern'd men.
It skills not, boots not, step by step to trace
His youth through all the mazes of its race;
Short was the course his restlessness had run,
But long enough to leave him half undone.

III.

And Lara left in youth his fatherland;
But from the hour he waved his parting hand
Each trace wax'd fainter of his course, till all
Had nearly ceased his memory to recall.
His sire was dust, his vassals could declare,
'Twas all they knew, that Lara was not there;
Nor sent, nor came he, till conjecture grew
Cold in the many, anxious in the few.
His hall scarce echoes with his wonted name,
His portrait darkens in its fading frame,
Another chief consoled his destined bride,
The young forgot him, and the old had died;
"Yet doth he live!" exclaims the impatient heir,
And sighs for sables which he must not wear.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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Through the eyes of a Field Coronet (Epic)

Introduction

In the kaki coloured tent in Umbilo he writes
his life’s story while women, children and babies are dying,
slowly but surely are obliterated, he see how his nation is suffering
while the events are notched into his mind.

Lying even heavier on him is the treason
of some other Afrikaners who for own gain
have delivered him, to imprisonment in this place of hatred
and thoughts go through him to write a book.

Prologue

The Afrikaner nation sprouted
from Dutchmen,
who fought decades without defeat
against the super power Spain

mixed with French Huguenots
who left their homes and belongings,
with the revocation of the Edict of Nantes.
Associate this then with the fact

that these people fought formidable
for seven generations
against every onslaught that they got
from savages en wild animals

becoming marksmen, riding
and taming wild horses
with one bullet per day
to hunt a wild antelope,

who migrated right across the country
over hills in mass protest
and then you have
the most formidable adversary
and then let them fight

in a natural wilderness
where the hunter,
the sniper and horseman excels
and any enemy is at a lost.

Let them then also be patriotic
into their souls,
believe in and read
out of the word of God

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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Then You Left Me

I never ask for any time from you baby.
I never ask for any lies.
You only hurt the one you love the most baby.
You only had to make me cry.

'Cause you left me (you left me) all alone (you left me)
You left me(you left me) to stand alone.

And ev'ry night I sit beside my bed baby.
And I keep thinking of your love.
The things we dreamed about.
How much I love you baby.
We had the world and the stars above.

But then you left me (you left me) all alone.(you left me)
You left me . You left me (you left me) to stand alone.
You left me to stand alone.
You left me to stand alone.
You left me. You left me. You left me. You left me.

song performed by Bee Gees from Cucumber Castle
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Since My Baby Left Me

Okay! okay! this is it, children!
Hey, hey, hey, hey - hey!
Thats nice!
The story bout all of us,
Not one missing.
She leaves you,
Aint got no sweet, no, no, no.
Yeah!
Since my baby left me, (since my baby left me)
Never said a word. (never said a word)
Was it something I done, (was it something I done)
Something that she heard? (something that she heard? )
You know, she left me, (yes, she left me)
Yes, she left me, (yes, she left me)
My baby even left me, never said a word.
Tra la la, (tra la la)
Tra la la. (tra la la)
Now I stand at my window, (now I stand at my window)
Wring my hand and cry. (wring my hand and cry)
I hate to lose that woman, (I hate to lose that woman)
Hate to say goodbye. (hate to say goodbye)
You know, she left me, (yes, she left me)
Yes, she left me, (yes, she left me)
My baby even left me, never said goodbye.
Never said goodbye!
Da da da, (da da da)
Da da da, (da da da)
Da da da, (da da da)
Da da da, (da da da)
One of these mornings, (one of these mornings)
Lord, it wont be long, (lord, it wont belong)
You look for me and, baby, (you look for me, baby)
And daddy will be gone. (daddy will be gone)
You know, she left me, (yes, she left me)
Yes, she left me, (yes, she left me)
My baby even left me, never said a word.
Not a word!
Da da da, (da da da)
Da da da, (da da da)
Da da da, (da da da)
Da da da, (da da da)
Oh, so sad,
So sad,
So, so sad,
So, so, so sad.

song performed by Yoko Ono
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Nothing

Shot down your instincts, turned into a freak
You said this was your first time
How fast changes come for you to finally see
Shallow plains for you to find what you...
There's nothing left!
For me on this ride
There's something left!
With you by my side
There's nothing left!
Noooo nothing left...
Stuck in with no way out a gift for your grief
Shattered your thoughts of a good thing that you never had
Hopelessly knowing whats right or wrong
Can't stop the feeling, it comes so strong
There's nothing left!
For me on this ride
There's something left!
With you by my side
There's nothing left!
Noooo...
Observe nature from a black top view
Left you defenseless hoping for defeat
Built on my fears
Confession of obsession
One day happy place for you to hide
There's nothing left!
For me on this ride
There's something left!
With you by my side
There's nothing left!
There's nothing left!
For me on this ride
There's something left for me!
With you by my side
There's nothing left!
With this ghost on my side!
There's something left
With you in my life!
There's nothing left!
Nothing left, nooo...

song performed by Zug Izland
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Damien

Things are done that I just don't understand
There's hardly no time left for the average young man
Works his arse off 'til his blue in the face
Drugged with hope so he can keep up the pace

And soon he joins the unemployed
Where all hope and ambition are destroyed
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world

A situation that I don't understand
A desperation that just got out of hand
He didn't realize what steps he should take
He didn't realize that his life was at stake

He left us thinking yet again
Another passing of a friend

Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
For you and me
Damien.

A contemplation left much to late
A deliberation we all left to fate
We didn’t understand the role we should play
We ignored the facts hoping they would simply fade away

He left us thinking yet again
Another passing of a friend

Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
Is there any justice left in this world
For you and me
Damien.

Copyright Colin Coplin 1984/2010

poem by Colin Coplin
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You Cant Put Your Arms Around Whats Already Gone

I saw red, stayed at home
Placed a big pillow over the phone
In this town where Im from
Ive learned two is so much better than one
But you left me alone
You cant put your arms around whats already gone
Watch you sink like a stone
You cant put your arms around whats already gone
Well, you hurt to the core
You used to kiss like no one had done before
And your taste turned me on
Now you drive me real crazy just by being born
Cos you left (left left left) me alone (left me alone)
And you cant put your arms around whats already gone
Watch you sink like a stone
You cant put your arms around whats already gone
Baba b-baba b-baba ba
Baba b-baba b-baba ba
Took the tram round the bay
Where everyone tells you to have a nice day
And my pride almost broke
When the tears dont fit you, you look like a joke
And you left (left left left) me alone (left me alone)
You cant put your arms around whats already gone
Cryin eyes gettin worn
You cant put your arms around whats already gone
Hey, you left (left left left) me alone (left me alone)
You cant put your arms around whats already gone
Watch you sink like a stone
You cant put your arms around whats already gone
Baba b-baba b-baba ba
Baba b-baba b-baba ba

song performed by Roxette
Added by Lucian Velea
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II. Half-Rome

What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)

Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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King Step

To all the entertainers in the world I man show nuff respect
Nuff respect, cause every entertainer is select
And right ya now me a go show you how to do the king step
(chorus)
Me a go show you how to do the king step left right,
Me a go show you how to do the king step left right,
As soon as me operator puts the music on the deck
Is pure exciting, educating, fascinating, pirate chanting
Culture preaching, perfect timing lyrics you a go get
The whistlers blow their whistle, big women say kiss me neck
Some bark forward, some barl rewind and some shout out eject
While the pirates press record pon fe dem pocket size cassettes
The mcs that chat slack fret till dem armpit wet with sweat
Because they know that slackness is a thing I man do not respect
That's why me have to show dem how fe do the king step left right.
(chorus)
Well before me start to go down in a dais yak subject
Me have to praise you jab cause you never fail I yet
Even when satan captured me and bring me close to death
You offered me the truth and right and I had to accept
But now me find you jab me na go keep it secret
That's why the conscious lyrics are my favourite subject
Me chat dem in the blues party, pub, club and discotheque
Me chat dem in the bookie shop while man a put on bet
And also in the gambling house when man ready fe set
And even to bad man who a walk wid dem ratchet
Me chat dem a ub40 studio in digbeth
And when dem want more culture dem a barl out dep, dep, dep
But me tell them, hold on lads you ain't heard nothing yet
Cause now i'm gonna show ya how to do the king step left right
(chorus)
Left right its time to walk in the light of jab not darkness
Left right who jab bless no man curse, who jab curse no man bless
Left right eternal life for the man that tries his very best
Left right do bad and you'll go down in the pit that's bottomless
Left right pato banton has now come to preach the right
Left right left right me no partial if your black or if your white
Left right well now me know how fe do the king step
Me just can not keep it a secret
So right ya now you a get
The king step the king step the king step
Step 1, we all should know that there's one God and only one
Step 2, is give him praises for this whole creation
Step 3, is love your brother man cause you and him is one
Step 4, is not to make the same mistake as soloman
Step 5, is to repent and beg forgiveness for your wrongs
Cause the wroth of jab is clear to see in revelation
So make up mind if you want to go to heaven or hell
Step 6, oh yes there's more the king step carries on
It carries on and on, and on, and on, and on, and on

[...] Read more

song performed by Ub40
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The Troubadour. Canto 3

LAND of the olive and the vine,
The saint and soldier, sword and shrine!
How glorious to young RAYMOND'S eye
Swell'd thy bold heights, spread thy clear sky,
When first he paused upon the height
Where, gather'd, lay the Christian might.
Amid a chesnut wood were raised
Their white tents, and the red cross blazed
Meteor-like, with its crimson shine,
O'er many a standard's scutcheon'd line.

On the hill opposite there stood
The warriors of the Moorish blood,--
With their silver crescents gleaming,
And their horse-tail pennons streaming;
With cymbals and the clanging gong,
The muezzin's unchanging song,
The turbans that like rainbows shone,
The coursers' gay caparison,
As if another world had been
Where that small rivulet ran between.

And there was desperate strife next day:
The little vale below that lay
Was like a slaughter-pit, of green
Could not one single trace be seen;
The Moslem warrior stretch'd beside
The Christian chief by whom he died;
And by the broken falchion blade
The crooked scymeter was laid.

And gallantly had RAYMOND borne
The red cross through the field that morn,
When suddenly he saw a knight
Oppress'd by numbers in the fight:
Instant his ready spear was flung,
Instant amid the band he sprung;--
They fight, fly, fall,--and from the fray
He leads the wounded knight away!
Gently he gain'd his tent, and there
He left him to the leech's care;
Then sought the field of death anew,--
Little was there for knight to do.

That field was strewn with dead and dying;
And mark'd he there DE VALENCE lying
Upon the turbann'd heap, which told
How dearly had his life been sold.
And yet on his curl'd lip was worn
The impress of a soldier's scorn;

[...] Read more

poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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The King Step (Pato Banton)

To all the entertainers in the world I man show nuff respect
Nuff respect, cause every entertainer is select
And right ya now me a go show you how to do the king step
(Chorus)
Me a go show you how to do the king step left right,
Me a go show you how to do the king step left right,
As soon as me operator puts the music on the deck
Is pure exciting, educating, fascinating, pirate chanting
Culture preaching, perfect timing lyrics you a go get
The whistlers blow their whistle, big women say "Kiss me neck"
Some bark "Forward", some barl "Rewind" and some shout out "eject"
While the pirates press record pon fe dem pocket size cassettes
The MCs that chat slack fret till dem armpit wet with sweat
Because they know that slackness is a thing I man do not respect
That's why me have to show dem how fe do the King Step Left Right.
(Chorus)
Well before me start to go down in a dais yak subject
Me have to praise you Jab cause you never fail I yet
Even when satan captured me and bring me close to death
You offered me the truth and right and I had to accept
But now me find you Jab me na go keep it secret
That's why the conscious lyrics are my favourite subject
Me chat dem in the blues party, pub, club and discotheque
Me chat dem in the bookie shop while man a put on bet
And also in the gambling house when man ready fe set
And even to bad man who a walk wid dem ratchet
Me chat dem a UB40 Studio in digbeth
And when dem want more culture dem a barl out "Dep, Dep, Dep"
But me tell them, hold on lads you ain't heard nothing yet
"Cause now I'm gonna show ya how to do the King Step" Left Right
(Chorus)
Left right its time to walk in the light of Jab not darkness
Left right who Jab bless no man curse, who jab curse no man bless
Left right eternal life for the man that tries his very best
Left right do bad and you'll go down in the pit that's bottomless
Left right Pato Banton has now come to preach the right
Left right left right me no partial if your black or if your white
Left right well now me know how fe do the king step
Me just can not keep it a secret
So right ya now you a get
THE KING STEP THE KING STEP THE KING STEP
Step 1, we all should know that there's one god and only one
Step 2, Is give him praises for this whole creation
Step 3, Is love your brother man cause you and him is one
Step 4, Is not to make the same mistake as Soloman
Step 5, Is to repent and beg forgiveness for your wrongs
Cause the wroth of Jab is clear to see in Revelation
So make up mind if you want to go to Heaven or Hell
Step 6, Oh yes there's more the King Step carries on
It carries on and on, and on, and on, and on, and on

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song performed by Ub40
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lancelot And Elaine

Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,
High in her chamber up a tower to the east
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot;
Which first she placed where the morning's earliest ray
Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam;
Then fearing rust or soilure fashioned for it
A case of silk, and braided thereupon
All the devices blazoned on the shield
In their own tinct, and added, of her wit,
A border fantasy of branch and flower,
And yellow-throated nestling in the nest.
Nor rested thus content, but day by day,
Leaving her household and good father, climbed
That eastern tower, and entering barred her door,
Stript off the case, and read the naked shield,
Now guessed a hidden meaning in his arms,
Now made a pretty history to herself
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it,
And every scratch a lance had made upon it,
Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh;
That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle;
That at Caerleon; this at Camelot:
And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there!
And here a thrust that might have killed, but God
Broke the strong lance, and rolled his enemy down,
And saved him: so she lived in fantasy.

How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot, she that knew not even his name?
He left it with her, when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts,
Which Arthur had ordained, and by that name
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize.

For Arthur, long before they crowned him King,
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse,
Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn.
A horror lived about the tarn, and clave
Like its own mists to all the mountain side:
For here two brothers, one a king, had met
And fought together; but their names were lost;
And each had slain his brother at a blow;
And down they fell and made the glen abhorred:
And there they lay till all their bones were bleached,
And lichened into colour with the crags:
And he, that once was king, had on a crown
Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside.
And Arthur came, and labouring up the pass,
All in a misty moonshine, unawares

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poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Added by Poetry Lover
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Christmas-Eve

I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.

II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,

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poem by Robert Browning
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My Baby Left Me

Yes, my baby left me, never said a word.
Was it something I done, something that she heard?
You know she left me, my baby left me.
My baby even left me, never said a word.
But, I stand at my window, wring my hands and cry.
I hate to lose that woman, hate to say goodbye.
You know she left me, I say, she left me.
My baby even left me, never said goodbye.
Help me, boy!
And now, one of these mornings, lord, it wont be long,
Youll look for me and, baby, daddy hell be gone.
You know she left me, I say she left me.
My baby even left me, never said a word.
Now, I stand at my window, wring my hands and moan.
All I know is that the one I love is gone.
My baby left me, I say she left me.
My baby even left me, never said goodbye.
My baby even left me, never said goodbye.

song performed by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Added by Lucian Velea
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Youve Broken My Heart

La la la la la
La la la la la
La la la la la
Youve broken my heart
You left me
And now Im tearing apart
You hurt my feelings
Youve broken my heart
You left me
Now Im tearing apart
Broken my heart
You left me
And now Im tearing apart
You hurt my feelings
Youve broken my heart
You left me
Now Im tearing apart
If you go away then take
With you my heart
Know there is a part of me
That just wont let you go
I need for you to know
My love for you was real
Know sometimes I feel the love
I felt for you
And the things we used to do
Broken my heart
You left me
Now Im tearing apart
Hurt my feelings
Youve broken my heart
You left me
Now Im tearing apart
Now that you have gone
I feel the lonelyness
I try to live the rest among my life
The best I can without your love
But still the feeling isnt gone
Now that you have gone
And left me crying here each day
And let me say
Youve broken my heart
You left me here
Now Im tearing apart
You hurt my feelings
Youve broken my heart
You left me
Now Im tearing apart
Now that youve gone
I feel the lonelyness

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song performed by Gloria Estefan
Added by Lucian Velea
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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!

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