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If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you.

quote by A.A. Milne
Added by Lucian Velea
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All Day Sucker

Come on up you say
Cause you can feel your love comin down
I find myself rushin over to
Do something for your love
I knock on the door
You answer askin what am I there for
I say I thought you wanted me to
Do something for your love
Im an all day sucker
Coming to give something to get nothin
Im an all day sucker
Coming to give something but to get none of your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
You call me up to say
Youre sorry for what went down the other day
And could I come over today
Do something for your love
One knuck gets me in
But then you say how very nice its been
That lets me know that I will once again
Get nothin fom your love
Im an all day sucker
Coming to give something to get nothin
Im an all day sucker
Coming to give something but to get none of your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
All day sucker for your love
All day sucker cup for your love
You drop by to say
Youre sorry for what went down the other day

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song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Domino Dancing

(tennant/lowe)
-----------------
(all day, all day)
I dont know why, I dont know how
I thought I loved you, but Im not sure now
Ive seen you look at strangers too many times
A love-you-once is of a, a different kind
Remember when we felt the sun
A love like paradise, how hot it burned
A threat of distant thunder, the sky was red
And when you walked, you always - turned every head
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day) domino dancing
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day) domino dancing
I thought that when we fought I was to blame
But now I know you play a different game
Ive watched you dance with danger, still wanting more
Add another number to the score
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day) domino dancing
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day) domino dancing
When you look around you wonder
Do you play to win?
Or are you just a bad loser?
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day, domino dancing)
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day)
I dont know why, I dont know how
Id thought I loved you, but Im not sure now
I hear the thunder crashing, the sky is dark
And now a storm is breaking within my heart
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day) domino dancing
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day, domino dancing)
(all day, all daeheheheheheheh)
(all day, all daeheheheheheheh)
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day)
(domino dancing)
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day)
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down
(all day, all day, domino dancing)
(all day, all day) watch them all fall down

[...] Read more

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Course Of Time. Book X.

God of my fathers! holy, just, and good!
My God! my Father! my unfailing Hope!
Jehovah! let the incense of my praise,
Accepted, burn before thy mercy seat,
And in thy presence burn both day and night.
Maker! Preserver! my Redeemer! God!
Whom have I in the heavens but Thee alone?
On earth, but Thee, whom should I praise, whom love?
For Thou hast brought me hitherto, upheld
By thy omnipotence; and from thy grace,
Unbought, unmerited, though not unsought—
The wells of thy salvation, hast refreshed
My spirit, watering it, at morn and even!
And by thy Spirit, which thou freely givest
To whom thou wilt, hast led my venturous song,
Over the vale, and mountain tract, the light
And shade of man; into the burning deep
Descending now, and now circling the mount,
Where highest sits Divinity enthroned;
Rolling along the tide of fluent thought,
The tide of moral, natural, divine;
Gazing on past, and present, and again,
On rapid pinion borne, outstripping Time,
In long excursion, wandering through the groves
Unfading, and the endless avenues,
That shade the landscape of eternity;
And talking there with holy angels met,
And future men, in glorious vision seen!
Nor unrewarded have I watched at night,
And heard the drowsy sound of neighbouring sleep;
New thought, new imagery, new scenes of bliss
And glory, unrehearsed by mortal tongue,
Which, unrevealed, I trembling, turned and left,
Bursting at once upon my ravished eye,
With joy unspeakable, have filled my soul,
And made my cup run over with delight;
Though in my face, the blasts of adverse winds,
While boldly circumnavigating man,
Winds seeming adverse, though perhaps not so,
Have beat severely; disregarded beat,
When I behind me heard the voice of God,
And his propitious Spirit say,—Fear not.
God of my fathers! ever present God!
This offering more inspire, sustain, accept;
Highest, if numbers answer to the theme;
Best answering if thy Spirit dictate most.
Jehovah! breathe upon my soul; my heart
Enlarge; my faith increase; increase my hope;
My thoughts exalt; my fancy sanctify,
And all my passions, that I near thy throne

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poem by Robert Pollok
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Seven Day Weekend

See the girl in the cabriolet
Im gonna make her mine someday
The traffic stops and she steps out
Every man starts to scream and shout
Theres a space in the week
Its a date I can keep, oh yeah
Seven day, seven day, seven day
Its a seven day weekend
Seven day, seven day, seven day
Its a seven day weekend
See the girl in the pale peach dress
Shes got a body build to caress
Like a one-eyed cat
Outside a seafood store
Shes got me begging
More, more, more
Ive been saving and saving
And saving my money
To spend it on her
* seven day, seven day, seven day
Its a seven day weekend
Seven day (seven day)
Seven day (seven day) seven day
Its a seven day weekend
Seven day (seven day)
Seven day (seven day) seven day
Its a seven day weekend
(* repeat)
Seven day (saturday)
Seven day (every day) seven day
Its a seven day weekend
Seven day (seven day)
Seven day (seven day) seven day
Its a seven day weekend
Seven day (seven day)
Seven day (seven day) seven day
Its a seven day weekend

song performed by Abc
Added by Lucian Velea
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Live 4 Love

{last words from the cockpit}
Lauch procedure commence
Countdown start
10,9,8,7,6,5,4
Keep goin
Acceleration into temporal space continuum now begins...
30,000 feet and still-a-counting (live 4 love)
The attack on my plane is steadily mounting (live 4 love)
They killed my buddy, but Im supposed to feel nothing (live 4 love)
How can I live 4 love? Im calling...
Live 4 love
Live 4 love - Im calling...
Live 4 love - Im calling...
Live 4 love
Kicked out of my home at 17 (live 4 love) ((get outta here))
A real family,
Now what does that mean (what does that mean) (live 4 love)
Dont nobody know the trouble Ive seen (live 4 love)
How can I live 4 love? Im calling...
Live 4 love
Live 4 love
Live 4 love - calling, Im calling
Live 4 love
My mission, so they said, was just 2 drop the bombs
Acceleration into temporal space continuum now begins...
Just like I got no conscience, just like I got no qualms
Alpha 7, acknowledge
Now what does that mean?
Go tommy go, go tommy go
Go tommy go, go tommy go
Go tommy go, go tommy go
Go tommy go, go tommy go
So here, my target is approaching
The angel on my shoulder starts coaching
Live 4 love, without love u dont live
Boom - I take a deep breath
Is it boom - life?
Is it boom - death?
(live 4 love)
Maybe I was better off staying in school (live 4 love)
But everybody said flying planes was cool (live 4 love)
Its so easy 4 them 2 say
Cuz they never have to go through
How can I live 4 love? (live 4 love) Im calling
Live 4 love - Im calling
Live 4 love - Im calling
Live 4 love
Live 4 love (live 4 love)
Live 4 love
Live 4 love

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song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Pharsalia - Book VII: The Battle

Ne'er to the summons of the Eternal laws
More slowly Titan rose, nor drave his steeds,
Forced by the sky revolving, up the heaven,
With gloomier presage; wishing to endure
The pangs of ravished light, and dark eclipse;
And drew the mists up, not to feed his flames,
But lest his light upon Thessalian earth
Might fall undimmed.

Pompeius on that morn,
To him the latest day of happy life,
In troubled sleep an empty dream conceived.
For in the watches of the night he heard
Innumerable Romans shout his name
Within his theatre; the benches vied
To raise his fame and place him with the gods;
As once in youth, when victory was won
O'er conquered tribes where swift Iberus flows,
And where Sertorius' armies fought and fled,
The west subdued, with no less majesty
Than if the purple toga graced the car,
He sat triumphant in his pure white gown
A Roman knight, and heard the Senate's cheer.
Perhaps, as ills drew near, his anxious soul,
Shunning the future wooed the happy past;
Or, as is wont, prophetic slumber showed
That which was not to be, by doubtful forms
Misleading; or as envious Fate forbade
Return to Italy, this glimpse of Rome
Kind Fortune gave. Break not his latest sleep,
Ye sentinels; let not the trumpet call
Strike on his ear: for on the morrow's night
Shapes of the battle lost, of death and war
Shall crowd his rest with terrors. Whence shalt thou
The poor man's happiness of sleep regain?
Happy if even in dreams thy Rome could see
Once more her captain! Would the gods had given
To thee and to thy country one day yet
To reap the latest fruit of such a love:
Though sure of fate to come! Thou marchest on
As though by heaven ordained in Rome to die;
She, conscious ever of her prayers for thee
Heard by the gods, deemed not the fates decreed
Such evil destiny, that she should lose
The last sad solace of her Magnus' tomb.
Then young and old had blent their tears for thee,
And child unbidden; women torn their hair
And struck their bosoms as for Brutus dead.
But now no public woe shall greet thy death
As erst thy praise was heard: but men shall grieve

[...] Read more

poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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This Valentines Day Revised

This Valentines Day,
I promise to love you more than I have in the past.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to make you feel more special than I ever have before.
This Valentines Day,
I promise that I will never make promise I can’t keep.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to make you smile bigger than you ever have before,
This Valentines Day,
I promise to give you the biggest hug I ever gave you before.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to kiss you so softly, you get butterflies in your stomach.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to never tell you I love you and not mean it.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to remain forever yours.
This Valentines Day,
I promise to write you at least one poem every month.
This Valentines Day,
I promise that I will be here next year and the year after that as long as I can help it.

This Valentines Day,
I'm glad I'm yours.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad I meet you.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad you know how to forgive.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad you love me.
This Valentines Day,
I’m glad I love you.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad I didn't leave.
This Valentines Day,
I'm glad to say you're mine.
This Valentines Day,
I’m glad I get to see your beautiful face light up when I see you.
This Valentines Day,
I’m glad I stopped hating you for no reason.
This Valentines Day,
I’m glad I held your hand that one day at the carnival.

This Valentines Day,
Is more than just flowers and candy.
This Valentines Day,
Is more than little red hearts.
This Valentines Day,
Is more than a hallmark holiday.
This Valentines Day,

[...] Read more

poem by Brandi Young
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As

As around the sun the earth knows shes revolving
And the rosebuds know to bloom in early may
Just as hate knows loves the cure
You can rest your mind assure
That Ill be loving you always
As now cant reveal the mistery of tomorrow
But in passing will grow older every day
Just as all is born is new
Do you know what I say is true
That Ill be loving you always
Until the rainbow burns the stars out in the sky
Always
Until the ocean covers every mountain high
Always
Until the dolphin flies and parrots live at sea
Always
Until we dream of life and life becomes a dream
Did you know that true love asks for nothing
Her acceptance is the way we pay
Did you know that life has given love a guarantee
To last through forever and another day
Just as time knew to move on since the beginning
And the seasons know exactly when to change
Just as kindness knows no shame
Know through all your joy and pain
That Ill be loving you always
As today I know Im living but tomorrow
Could make me the past but that I mustnt fear
For Ill know deep in my mind
The love of me Ive left behind
Cause Ill be loving you always
Until the day is night and night becomes the day
Always
Until the trees and sea just up and fly away
Always
Until the day that 8x8x8 is 4
Always
Until the day that is the day that are no more
Did you know youre loved by somebody?
Until the day the earth starts turning right to left
Always
Until the earth just for the sun denies itself
Ill loving you forever
Until dear mother nature says her work is through
Always
Until the day that you are me and I am you
Al~~~~~wa~~~~~~~~~aa~~~~~~~~~aa~~~
Until the rainbow burns the stars out in the sky
~~~~~~~~~~aa~~~~~~~~~aa~~~~~~~~~aa~~~
Until the ocean covers every mountain high

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song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Moat House

PART I

I

UNDER the shade of convent towers,
Where fast and vigil mark the hours,
From childhood into youth there grew
A maid as fresh as April dew,
And sweet as May's ideal flowers,

Brighter than dawn in wind-swept skies,
Like children's dreams most pure, unwise,
Yet with a slumbering soul-fire too,
That sometimes shone a moment through
Her wondrous unawakened eyes.

The nuns, who loved her coldly, meant
The twig should grow as it was bent;
That she, like them, should watch youth's bier,
Should watch her day-dreams disappear,
And go the loveless way they went.

The convent walls were high and grey;
How could Love hope to find a way
Into that citadel forlorn,
Where his dear name was put to scorn,
Or called a sinful thing to say?

Yet Love did come; what need to tell
Of flowers downcast, that sometimes fell
Across her feet when dreamily
She paced, with unused breviary,
Down paths made still with August's spell--

Of looks cast through the chapel grate,
Of letters helped by Love and Fate,
That to cold fingers did not come
But lay within a warmer home,
Upon her heart inviolate?

Somehow he loved her--she loved him:
Then filled her soul's cup to the brim,
And all her daily life grew bright
With such a flood of rosy light
As turned the altar candles dim.

[...] Read more

poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Bride's Prelude

“Sister,” said busy Amelotte
To listless Aloÿse;
“Along your wedding-road the wheat
Bends as to hear your horse's feet,
And the noonday stands still for heat.”
Amelotte laughed into the air
With eyes that sought the sun:
But where the walls in long brocade
Were screened, as one who is afraid
Sat Aloÿse within the shade.
And even in shade was gleam enough
To shut out full repose
From the bride's 'tiring-chamber, which
Was like the inner altar-niche
Whose dimness worship has made rich.
Within the window's heaped recess
The light was counterchanged
In blent reflexes manifold
From perfume-caskets of wrought gold
And gems the bride's hair could not hold,
All thrust together: and with these
A slim-curved lute, which now,
At Amelotte's sudden passing there,
Was swept in somewise unaware,
And shook to music the close air.
Against the haloed lattice-panes
The bridesmaid sunned her breast;
Then to the glass turned tall and free,
And braced and shifted daintily
Her loin-belt through her côte-hardie.
The belt was silver, and the clasp
Of lozenged arm-bearings;
A world of mirrored tints minute
The rippling sunshine wrought into 't,
That flushed her hand and warmed her foot.
At least an hour had Aloÿse—
Her jewels in her hair—
Her white gown, as became a bride,
Quartered in silver at each side—
Sat thus aloof, as if to hide.
Over her bosom, that lay still,
The vest was rich in grain,
With close pearls wholly overset:
Around her throat the fastenings met
Of chevesayle and mantelet.
Her arms were laid along her lap
With the hands open: life
Itself did seem at fault in her:
Beneath the drooping brows, the stir
Of thought made noonday heavier.

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poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Fun Day

This is fun day
Yours and my day
This is fun day, dee ooh, wee ooh
This is fun day
On a fine day
When the air is filled with tweeting birds that sing
Together in the sun
This is your day
Yours and my day
When you feel the joy of children playing,
Laughing from dust till dawn
On a day like this you share your joy
With everyone
Share your peace, and share your joy,
And share your love
This is fun day
On a fine day
When you feel the urge of getting up to start-up
With the break of dawn
This is your day
Yours and my day
When you turn on your radio and hear the dj
Playing your favorite song
On a day like this not even bad can rub
You wrong
Cause you say its okay cause its your day
Im gonna go out to the park
Where you feel the joy in every heart
Thats what I need to start each day off right
Oh, Ill find a place for you and me
Underneath the shade of a lovers tree
Fun day should be each day in all our lives
This is fun day
Yours and my day
This is fun day, dee ooh, wee ooh
This is love day
A celebration
A day on every calendar thats set aside
For everyone to give
This is your day
Such a fun day
I cannot believe a day like this has come
Thats if this really is
Im so very proud to say that for this day Ive lived
To see your peace, to see your joy, and to
See your love
Im gonna go out to the park
Where you feel the joy in every heart
Thats what I need to start this day off right
Oh, Ill find a place for you and me

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song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Amazing Grace

'Live, live with me, and thou shalt see
The pleasures I'll prepare for thee:
What sweets the country can afford
Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board.'
So Robert Herrick's poetry
has written yet his words may be
as nought compared to all that's poured
in soul-song here for my adored.

'Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
Or woods or steepy mountain yield.' -
Though Marlowe's maid as hand and glove
swain fain would fit her heart to move,
his verse is but an empty shield
compared to all I'd have revealed.

'But Time drives flocks from field to fold;
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.'
Thus Walter Raleigh mocks, shortsold,
the love whose span cannot be told
no empty write I'd write, hymn's hum -
no strings save mandolin to strum.

'For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself art thine own bait,
That fish, that is not catched thereby,
Alas, is wiser far than I.'
John Donne declaimed - admire his feat -
as none could e'er exaggerate
your angel wings, your beauty's eye,
your heart whose depth none chart, your sigh!

'Care on thy maiden brow shall put
A wreath of wrinkles, and thy foot
Be shod with pain: not silken dress
But toil shall tire thy loveliness.'
Day-Lewis says, - bride's white turns soot
with high ideals crushed underfoot -
yet my heart feel the years' duress
must only add to happiness.

'Come, live with us and be our cook,
And we will all the whimsies brook
That German, Irish, Swede, and Slav
And all the dear domestics have.'
Says F.P.A. - beyond my book

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Canto the Second

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

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

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

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

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

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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Good Day

The sky is blue but there are clouds in my head,
With big decisions looming ahead.
The sun is out but the room is so grey,
So much confusion headed my way.
Get positive, try to be gay.
News of the world, tea and biscuits in bed.
The headlines said that diana is dead.
She couldnt act much but she put on a show.
She always smiled even when she felt low.
I used to fancy her a long time ago.
So today has got to be a good day,
Today is gonna be a good day,
Today is gonna be a good day,
Good day, good day, good day.
Holes in my socks and I cant find my shoes.
Its no surprise that Im singing the blues.
So many holes in my life still to mend,
And someone just said that the worlds gonna end.
So today better be a good day,
Today is gonna be a good day,
Today has got to be a good day,
Good day, good day, good day, good day.
If we blow away the past with a bloody great blast,
Make it fast, make it fast.
So have a good day today because it could be your last,
Make it last, make it last.
Will it light up the sky?
Will it blot out the sun?
Well weve waited this long,
So it better be a good one.
Good day, good day, good day.
Yeah, its gonna be a good day.
Hey baby, if you come back home itll be a good day today.
They could drop a small atom bomb on the city today,
But if you walk through that door honey, you know itll be a good day.
And now survival is my only aim.
I call friends and see if any remain.
Who was that girl who used to be my flame?
Id call her if I could remember her name.
So today is gonna be a good day,
Today has got to be a good day,
Today is gonna be a good day,
Good day, good day, good day, good day.
Hey diana, Ive really got to learn to take a tip from you,
Put on my makeup and try to make the world take notice of you.
Yeah, its gonna be good day today.
Good day, gonna be a good day.
(repeat)

song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Repetition

You get up in the morning
And every single day
Is just a repetition
Its always been that way
You live alone inside your head
Incommunicado, in the land of living dead
Each days a repetition
Of the one that went before
Like watching an old movie
You cant sit through anymore
Why dont you kick the habit
And walk right out that door?
From all the repetition
Day after day
All the repetition
Its always been that way
Its in your head, its in your eyes
Youre boring and its no surprise
With all the repetition
Day after day
All the repetition
They say its time to start all over
And call it a day
But you go right back where you started
Day after day
You go right back to where you started
Day after day, after day, after day, after day
You look in the mirror
Is anybody there?
Its only a reflection
That doesnt really care
Youre a product of your time
Looking hard for something, but you never saw the sign
Lock inside a prison
But thats where you wanna be
Stuck in solitary
And youve thrown away the key
You say you want your freedom
But you dont wanna get away
Then you wake up, its time for you
To start another day
With all the repetition, day after day, all the repetition
All the repetition day after day
Another chance, another day
You know its time to get away from all the repetition
Day after day
How long you gonna sit and wait
Youre getting on its getting late
They say its time to start all over
And call it a day

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song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Dream

'TWAS summer eve; the changeful beams still play'd
On the fir-bark and through the beechen shade;
Still with soft crimson glow'd each floating cloud;
Still the stream glitter'd where the willow bow'd;
Still the pale moon sate silent and alone,
Nor yet the stars had rallied round her throne;
Those diamond courtiers, who, while yet the West
Wears the red shield above his dying breast,
Dare not assume the loss they all desire,
Nor pay their homage to the fainter fire,
But wait in trembling till the Sun's fair light
Fading, shall leave them free to welcome Night!

So when some Chief, whose name through realms afar
Was still the watchword of succesful war,
Met by the fatal hour which waits for all,
Is, on the field he rallied, forced to fall,
The conquerors pause to watch his parting breath,
Awed by the terrors of that mighty death;
Nor dare the meed of victory to claim,
Nor lift the standard to a meaner name,
Till every spark of soul hath ebb'd away,
And leaves what was a hero, common clay.

Oh! Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting Heaven with Earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and rumning streams
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams;
Thy hour to all is welcome! Faint and sweet
Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward feet,
Who, slow returning from his task of toil,
Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil,
And, tho' such radliance round him brightly glows,
Marks the small spark his cottage window throws.
Still as his heart forestals his weary pace,
Fondly he dreams of each familiar face,
Recalls the treasures of his narrow life,
His rosy children, and his sunburnt wife,

To whom his coming is the chief event
Of simple days in cheerful labour spent.
The rich man's chariot hath gone whirling past,
And those poor cottagers have only cast
One careless glance on all that show of pride,
Then to their tasks turn'd quietly aside;
But him they wait for, him they welcome home,
Fond sentinels look forth to see him come;
The fagot sent for when the fire grew dim,
The frugal meal prepared, are all for him;
For him the watching of that sturdy boy,

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poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Added by Poetry Lover
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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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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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