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In reading, a lonely quiet concert is given to our minds; all our mental faculties will be present in this symphonic exaltation.

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Dear Miss Lonely Hearts

Dear miss lonely hearts
I had to write this letter
To tell you how i came to meet her
She was sweet but i dated her sister
That's how i made my mistake
And i can't forget her
I felt depressed
Till a friend of mine suggested
That i write to this address
So unless you can find a cure
For my loneliness
It will persist, it will persist
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear lonely boy
I doubt if my reply
Will bring much joy
It seems from your letter that you lied
Or strongly implied
That you were satisfied
To take her sister by your side
I became distressed
At your total lack of tactfulness
So at best
All i can suggest
Is that you resist
And you put an end
To such thoughts of silliness
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear miss lonely hearts
I've got problems
You're the only one i know that can solve them
I love a girl but i'm dating her sister
And if i persist in my pursuit i will kiss her
Dear lonely girl
I doubt if this reply will bring much joy
But you must not trust this boy

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Dear Miss Lonely Hearts- Lynott

Dear miss lonely hearts
I had to write this letter
To tell you how i came to meet her
She was sweet but i dated her sister
That's how i made my mistake
And i can't forget her
I felt depressed
Till a friend of mine suggested
That i write to this address
So unless you can find a cure
For my loneliness
It will persist, it will persist
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear lonely boy
I doubt if my reply
Will bring much joy
It seems from your letter that you lied
Or strongly implied
That you were satisfied
To take her sister by your side
I became distressed
At your total lack of tactfulness
So at best
All i can suggest
Is that you resist
And you put an end
To such thoughts of silliness
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear miss lonely hearts
I've got problems
You're the only one i know that can solve them
I love a girl but i'm dating her sister
And if i persist in my pursuit i will kiss her
Dear lonely girl
I doubt if this reply will bring much joy
But you must not trust this boy

[...] Read more

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Dear Miss Lonely Hearts

Dear miss lonely hearts
I had to write this letter
To tell you how i came to meet her
She was sweet but i dated her sister
That's how i made my mistake
And i can't forget her
I felt depressed
Till a friend of mine suggested
That i write to this address
So unless you can find a cure
For my loneliness
It will persist, it will persist
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear lonely boy
I doubt if my reply
Will bring much joy
It seems from your letter that you lied
Or strongly implied
That you were satisfied
To take her sister by your side
I became distressed
At your total lack of tactfulness
So at best
All i can suggest
Is that you resist
And you put an end
To such thoughts of silliness
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear miss lonely hearts
I've got problems
You're the only one i know that can solve them
I love a girl but i'm dating her sister
And if i persist in my pursuit i will kiss her
Dear lonely girl
I doubt if this reply will bring much joy
But you must not trust this boy

[...] Read more

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Dear Miss Lonely Hearts- Lynott

Dear miss lonely hearts
I had to write this letter
To tell you how i came to meet her
She was sweet but i dated her sister
That's how i made my mistake
And i can't forget her
I felt depressed
Till a friend of mine suggested
That i write to this address
So unless you can find a cure
For my loneliness
It will persist, it will persist
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear lonely boy
I doubt if my reply
Will bring much joy
It seems from your letter that you lied
Or strongly implied
That you were satisfied
To take her sister by your side
I became distressed
At your total lack of tactfulness
So at best
All i can suggest
Is that you resist
And you put an end
To such thoughts of silliness
Lonely boy
Looking for another
Lonely girl
To love one another
Lonely hearts
Turn to each other
Lonely souls
Lonely souls
Dear miss lonely hearts
I've got problems
You're the only one i know that can solve them
I love a girl but i'm dating her sister
And if i persist in my pursuit i will kiss her
Dear lonely girl
I doubt if this reply will bring much joy
But you must not trust this boy

[...] Read more

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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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A Digital Map Of Anatomical Body

moving compositions

anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
...
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
anatomy of mental formations
contemplated erosions below! ! !
The body detailes concepts!

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So Lonely

Well someone told me yesterday
That when you throw your love away
You act as if you just dont care
You look as if youre going somewhere
But I just cant convince myself
I couldnt live with no one else
And I can only play that part
And sit and nurse my broken heart
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
Know no ones knocked upon my door
For a thousand years or more
All made up and no where to go
Welcome to this one man show
Just take a seat theyre always free
No surprise no mystery
In this theatre that I call my soul
I always play the starring role
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
I feel so lonely...

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So Lonely

Well someone told me yesterday
That when you throw your love away
You act as if you just dont care
You look as if youre going somewhere
But I just cant convince myself
I couldnt live with no one else
And I can only play that part
And sit and nurse my broken heart
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
Know no ones knocked upon my door
For a thousand years or more
All made up and no where to go
Welcome to this one man show
Just take a seat theyre always free
No surprise no mystery
In this theatre that I call my soul
I always play the starring role
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely, so lonely
So lonely, so lonely, so lonely
I feel so lonely...

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Tamar

I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.

The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,

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Go Mental

Out of the hospital out against my will
Life is so beautiful Ive gone mental
Mental mental
Ive killed my family they thought I was an oddity
Life is so beautiful I am a vegetable
Mental mental
Ive gone mental Ive gone mental
Staring at my goldfish bowl popping phenobarbitol
Life is so beautiful Ive gone mental mental mental
Sitting on my window sill life is so beautiful
Ive become irrational Ive gone mental
Mental mental Ive gone mental

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Book Second [School-Time Continued]

THUS far, O Friend! have we, though leaving much
Unvisited, endeavoured to retrace
The simple ways in which my childhood walked;
Those chiefly that first led me to the love
Of rivers, woods, and fields. The passion yet
Was in its birth, sustained as might befall
By nourishment that came unsought; for still
From week to week, from month to month, we lived
A round of tumult. Duly were our games
Prolonged in summer till the daylight failed:
No chair remained before the doors; the bench
And threshold steps were empty; fast asleep
The labourer, and the old man who had sate
A later lingerer; yet the revelry
Continued and the loud uproar: at last,
When all the ground was dark, and twinkling stars
Edged the black clouds, home and to bed we went,
Feverish with weary joints and beating minds.
Ah! is there one who ever has been young,
Nor needs a warning voice to tame the pride
Of intellect and virtue's self-esteem?
One is there, though the wisest and the best
Of all mankind, who covets not at times
Union that cannot be;--who would not give
If so he might, to duty and to truth
The eagerness of infantine desire?
A tranquillising spirit presses now
On my corporeal frame, so wide appears
The vacancy between me and those days
Which yet have such self-presence in my mind,
That, musing on them, often do I seem
Two consciousnesses, conscious of myself
And of some other Being. A rude mass
Of native rock, left midway in the square
Of our small market village, was the goal
Or centre of these sports; and when, returned
After long absence, thither I repaired,
Gone was the old grey stone, and in its place
A smart Assembly-room usurped the ground
That had been ours. There let the fiddle scream,
And be ye happy! Yet, my Friends! I know
That more than one of you will think with me
Of those soft starry nights, and that old Dame
From whom the stone was named, who there had sate,
And watched her table with its huckster's wares
Assiduous, through the length of sixty years.

We ran a boisterous course; the year span round
With giddy motion. But the time approached
That brought with it a regular desire

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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.


II.

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Amy Lowell

The Cremona Violin

Part First

Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door.
A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind
Swirled through the trees, and scattered leaves before
Her on the clean, flagged path. The sky behind
The distant town was black, and sharp defined
Against it shone the lines of roofs and towers,
Superimposed and flat like cardboard flowers.

A pasted city on a purple ground,
Picked out with luminous paint, it seemed. The cloud
Split on an edge of lightning, and a sound
Of rivers full and rushing boomed through bowed,
Tossed, hissing branches. Thunder rumbled loud
Beyond the town fast swallowing into gloom.
Frau Altgelt closed the windows of each room.

She bustled round to shake by constant moving
The strange, weird atmosphere. She stirred the fire,
She twitched the supper-cloth as though improving
Its careful setting, then her own attire
Came in for notice, tiptoeing higher and higher
She peered into the wall-glass, now adjusting
A straying lock, or else a ribbon thrusting

This way or that to suit her. At last sitting,
Or rather plumping down upon a chair,
She took her work, the stocking she was knitting,
And watched the rain upon the window glare
In white, bright drops. Through the black glass a flare
Of lightning squirmed about her needles. 'Oh!'
She cried. 'What can be keeping Theodore so!'

A roll of thunder set the casements clapping.
Frau Altgelt flung her work aside and ran,
Pulled open the house door, with kerchief flapping
She stood and gazed along the street. A man
Flung back the garden-gate and nearly ran
Her down as she stood in the door. 'Why, Dear,
What in the name of patience brings you here?

Quick, Lotta, shut the door, my violin
I fear is wetted. Now, Dear, bring a light.
This clasp is very much too worn and thin.
I'll take the other fiddle out to-night
If it still rains. Tut! Tut! my child, you're quite
Clumsy. Here, help me, hold the case while I -
Give me the candle. No, the inside's dry.

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The Undying One- Canto III

'THERE is a sound the autumn wind doth make
Howling and moaning, listlessly and low:
Methinks that to a heart that ought to break
All the earth's voices seem to murmur so.
The visions that crost
Our path in light--
The things that we lost
In the dim dark night--
The faces for which we vainly yearn--
The voices whose tones will not return--
That low sad wailing breeze doth bring
Borne on its swift and rushing wing.
Have ye sat alone when that wind was loud,
And the moon shone dim from the wintry cloud?
When the fire was quench'd on your lonely hearth,
And the voices were still which spoke of mirth?

If such an evening, tho' but one,
It hath been yours to spend alone--
Never,--though years may roll along
Cheer'd by the merry dance and song;
Though you mark'd not that bleak wind's sound before,
When louder perchance it used to roar--
Never shall sound of that wintry gale
Be aught to you but a voice of wail!
So o'er the careless heart and eye
The storms of the world go sweeping by;
But oh! when once we have learn'd to weep,
Well doth sorrow his stern watch keep.
Let one of our airy joys decay--
Let one of our blossoms fade away--
And all the griefs that others share
Seem ours, as well as theirs, to bear:
And the sound of wail, like that rushing wind
Shall bring all our own deep woe to mind!

'I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!

'I saw the inconstant lover come to take
Farewell of her he loved in better days,
And, coldly careless, watch the heart-strings break--
Which beat so fondly at his words of praise.
She was a faded, painted, guilt-bow'd thing,
Seeking to mock the hues of early spring,
When misery and years had done their worst

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Too Lonely

Too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love
Too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love.
I got a key chain
Good luck charm
I drive a fast car
Got a strong arm.
Too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love
Too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love.
Shes got the big lips
Shes got the tight dress
Working for a big tip
She dont go for less.
Shes too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love
Too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love.
She wears a fur coat
Shes got a gold ring
Comes from a good home
Lookin for a new thing.
Shes too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love
Too lonely, too lonely
Too lonely to fall in love.

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Byron

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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Prejudice

IN yonder red-brick mansion, tight and square,
Just at the town's commencement, lives the mayor.
Some yards of shining gravel, fenced with box,
Lead to the painted portal--where one knocks :
There, in the left-hand parlour, all in state,
Sit he and she, on either side the grate.
But though their goods and chattels, sound and new,
Bespeak the owners very well to do,
His worship's wig and morning suit betray
Slight indications of an humbler day

That long, low shop, where still the name appears,
Some doors below, they kept for forty years :
And there, with various fortunes, smooth and rough,
They sold tobacco, coffee, tea, and snuff.
There labelled drawers display their spicy row--
Clove, mace, and nutmeg : from the ceiling low
Dangle long twelves and eights , and slender rush,
Mix'd with the varied forms of genus brush ;
Cask, firkin, bag, and barrel, crowd the floor,
And piles of country cheeses guard the door.
The frugal dames came in from far and near,
To buy their ounces and their quarterns here.
Hard was the toil, the profits slow to count,
And yet the mole-hill was at last a mount.
Those petty gains were hoarded day by day,
With little cost, for not a child had they ;
Till, long proceeding on the saving plan,
He found himself a warm, fore-handed man :
And being now arrived at life's decline,
Both he and she, they formed the bold design,
(Although it touched their prudence to the quick)
To turn their savings into stone and brick.
How many an ounce of tea and ounce of snuff,
There must have been consumed to make enough !

At length, with paint and paper, bright and gay,
The box was finished, and they went away.
But when their faces were no longer seen
Amongst the canisters of black and green ,
--Those well-known faces, all the country round--
'Twas said that had they levelled to the ground
The two old walnut trees before the door,
The customers would not have missed them more.
Now, like a pair of parrots in a cage,
They live, and civic honours crown their age :
Thrice, since the Whitsuntide they settled there,
Seven years ago, has he been chosen mayor ;
And now you'd scarcely know they were the same ;
Conscious he struts, of power, and wealth, and fame ;

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The Prelude, Book 2: School-time (Continued)

. Thus far, O Friend! have we, though leaving much
Unvisited, endeavour'd to retrace
My life through its first years, and measured back
The way I travell'd when I first began
To love the woods and fields; the passion yet
Was in its birth, sustain'd, as might befal,
By nourishment that came unsought, for still,
From week to week, from month to month, we liv'd
A round of tumult: duly were our games
Prolong'd in summer till the day-light fail'd;
No chair remain'd before the doors, the bench
And threshold steps were empty; fast asleep
The Labourer, and the old Man who had sate,
A later lingerer, yet the revelry
Continued, and the loud uproar: at last,
When all the ground was dark, and the huge clouds
Were edged with twinkling stars, to bed we went,
With weary joints, and with a beating mind.
Ah! is there one who ever has been young,
Nor needs a monitory voice to tame
The pride of virtue, and of intellect?
And is there one, the wisest and the best
Of all mankind, who does not sometimes wish
For things which cannot be, who would not give,
If so he might, to duty and to truth
The eagerness of infantine desire?
A tranquillizing spirit presses now
On my corporeal frame: so wide appears
The vacancy between me and those days,
Which yet have such self-presence in my mind
That, sometimes, when I think of them, I seem
Two consciousnesses, conscious of myself
And of some other Being. A grey Stone
Of native rock, left midway in the Square
Of our small market Village, was the home
And centre of these joys, and when, return'd
After long absence, thither I repair'd,
I found that it was split, and gone to build
A smart Assembly-room that perk'd and flar'd
With wash and rough-cast elbowing the ground
Which had been ours. But let the fiddle scream,
And be ye happy! yet, my Friends! I know
That more than one of you will think with me
Of those soft starry nights, and that old Dame
From whom the stone was nam'd who there had sate
And watch'd her Table with its huckster's wares
Assiduous, thro' the length of sixty years.

We ran a boisterous race; the year span round
With giddy motion. But the time approach'd

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The Recluse - Book First

HOME AT GRASMERE

ONCE to the verge of yon steep barrier came
A roving school-boy; what the adventurer's age
Hath now escaped his memory--but the hour,
One of a golden summer holiday,
He well remembers, though the year be gone--
Alone and devious from afar he came;
And, with a sudden influx overpowered
At sight of this seclusion, he forgot
His haste, for hasty had his footsteps been
As boyish his pursuits; and sighing said,
'What happy fortune were it here to live!
And, if a thought of dying, if a thought
Of mortal separation, could intrude
With paradise before him, here to die!'
No Prophet was he, had not even a hope,
Scarcely a wish, but one bright pleasing thought,
A fancy in the heart of what might be
The lot of others, never could be his.
The station whence he looked was soft and green,
Not giddy yet aerial, with a depth
Of vale below, a height of hills above.
For rest of body perfect was the spot,
All that luxurious nature could desire;
But stirring to the spirit; who could gaze
And not feel motions there? He thought of clouds
That sail on winds: of breezes that delight
To play on water, or in endless chase
Pursue each other through the yielding plain
Of grass or corn, over and through and through,
In billow after billow, evermore
Disporting--nor unmindful was the boy
Of sunbeams, shadows, butterflies and birds;
Of fluttering sylphs and softly-gliding Fays,
Genii, and winged angels that are Lords
Without restraint of all which they behold.
The illusion strengthening as he gazed, he felt
That such unfettered liberty was his,
Such power and joy; but only for this end,
To flit from field to rock, from rock to field,
From shore to island, and from isle to shore,
From open ground to covert, from a bed
Of meadow-flowers into a tuft of wood;
From high to low, from low to high, yet still
Within the bound of this huge concave; here
Must be his home, this valley be his world.
Since that day forth the Place to him--'to me'
(For I who live to register the truth
Was that same young and happy Being) became

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I Love A Lonely Day

Tvs off at 1am,
One more day alone again.
The work gets longer every day,
Whyd I have to get away?
But I have found a comfort here....
Solitude can be so dear.
Loneliness is not so blue,
When it puts my mind on you.
I love a lonely day, (I love a lonely day,)
It makes me think of you, (I love a lonely day,)
All alone, I can easily find your love,
I love,
I love a lonely day, (I love a lonely day,)
It chases me to you, (I love a lonely day,)
It clears my heart,
Lets my very best part shine through;
Its you.
Lonely people everywhere,
Lucky, lonely, ones who care.
Youve got all you need and more,
Someone to be lonely for,
Someone cries for you to hear,
Take your heart and wipe that tear,
Give them someone they can miss,
Give them love and sing them this.
I love a lonely day, (I love a lonely day)
It makes me think of you, (I love a lonely day)
All alone, I can easily find your love,
I love,
I love a lonely day, (I love a lonely day)
It chases me to you, (I love a lonely day)
It clears my heart,
Lets my very best part shine through;
Oh, its you.
I love a lonely day, (I love a lonely day)
It makes me think of you, (I love a lonely day)
All alone, I can easily find your love,
I love,
I love a lonely day, (I love a lonely day)
It chases me to you.... (I love a lonely day)

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