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I think this journal will be disadvantageous for me, for I spend my time now like a spider spinning my own entrails.

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John Bunyan

The Sinner and The Spider

Sinner.

What black, what ugly crawling thing art thou?

Spider.

I am a spider——————-

Sinner.

A spider, ay, also a filthy creature.

Spider.

Not filthy as thyself in name or feature.
My name entailed is to my creation,
My features from the God of thy salvation.

Sinner.

I am a man, and in God's image made,
I have a soul shall neither die nor fade,
God has possessed me with human reason,
Speak not against me lest thou speakest treason.
For if I am the image of my Maker,
Of slanders laid on me He is partaker.

Spider.

I know thou art a creature far above me,
Therefore I shun, I fear, and also love thee.
But though thy God hath made thee such a creature,
Thou hast against him often played the traitor.
Thy sin has fetched thee down: leave off to boast;
Nature thou hast defiled, God's image lost.
Yea, thou thyself a very beast hast made,
And art become like grass, which soon doth fade.
Thy soul, thy reason, yea, thy spotless state,
Sin has subjected to th' most dreadful fate.
But I retain my primitive condition,
I've all but what I lost by thy ambition.

Sinner.

Thou venomed thing, I know not what to call thee,
The dregs of nature surely did befall thee,
Thou wast made of the dross and scum of all,
Man hates thee; doth, in scorn, thee spider call.

Spider.

[...] Read more

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My Head Is Spinning

(lowe/tennant)
----------------------
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning
My head is spinning

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Rubaiyat Of A Robin - After Edward Fitzgerald - Rubaiyat Of Omar Khayyam

Jest plays with rubaiyat and, four by four,
unseals for your amusement more and more
verses together thread in rosary
unreeled to bloom till tomb will curtains draw.

Repealed are value judgement and perspective
revealed through standpoint purely introspective,
darkside concealed of moon’s yin-yang shines clear
when we’re in orbit, - option more effective.

Rolled form performs rôle midwife to perception,
sprung tongue in cheek, tweaks sense of imperfection
or willingness to leach between the lines,
impeach entrenched ideas of self-[s]election.

This prose arose as stream deprived of section,
where ‘dip at willwill still sustain inspection,
the current’s sense, at odds with current views
ignores round holes, square pegs, top-down direction.

Here there’s no fear of critics’ peer rejection,
contention treated with due circumspection
intention is to mention for retention
an overview or clue to extrospection.

Life’s curtains are a veil through which few see,
as many haste taste-waste eternity,
mixed up, ignore life fixes finite sum
to/through infinite opportunity.

Can “Truth” exist? all ask, who seek its core,
we, modest, etch our words to sketch the score,
diverse the verses which converge to link
reflections mirrored many times before.

Vast content, style, a while, united are,
aim at soul stimulation, nothing bar,
to pleasure, treasure, or discard at will
as minds outreach to other minds on par.

Meditating, we shed light on what
tomorrow’s tot may factor into ‘bot’ -
the poet’s lot, forgot, to help all think
ahead of time, enhance life for a lot

Some seek Nirvana, Faith speaks more than “how”.
Others reject Salvation’s wraith, - w[h]ine “now”.
Verifying facts? Inventing dreams?
Each furrow-burrows with a different plough.

[...] Read more

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Spinning On An Axis

World spinning round
To the next revolution
Sun going down
Gonna rise up again
I watch the sun go down
With some sorrow
And now I know its gonna come back tomorrow
Aint no reason
It has to do that
Its the season of the culture bat
Spinning on an axis
Spinning on an axis
Staring in the face
Of time and space
Spinning on an axis
World spinning round
To the next revolution
Sun going down
Gonna rise up again
Hear me rising
Rise up and sing, rise up, rise up
Although Im curious
It isnt a crime
I want to know if ill
Find out in time
A lot of people busy doing their thing
Gonna wake up and sing
Spinning on an axis
Spinning on an axis
We ask the question
And the answers yes
Spinning on an axis
I watch the sun go down
With some sorrow
And now I know its gonna come back tomorrow
Aint no reason why
It has to do that
Its the season of the culture bat
I watch the sun go down
Wonder if its gonna come back
Certainly theres no guarantee
But I got a feeling it will be
Spinning on an axis
Spinning on an axis
Spinning on an axis
Spinning on, spinning on an axis
Spinning on an axis
World spinning round
To the next revolution
Sun going down

[...] Read more

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Spidey, Spider

Spidey, Spider


Spidey, spider spinning fast,
I will trap my fly at last,
eight eyes witness final swings
and roundabouts of online wings.
What brow[n] beaten beatle stagged
in cocoon so neatly tagged,
what wet silk that sets dew scene
for caught-on-hop grasshopper green?
Silk’s redigested once prey’s bagged
for protein’s precious, times are lean.

Spidey, spider, biding time,
reinforces reeling rhyme,
scuttling hither, thither, waits
sliding stealthily relates
patience monumental which
line by line shall seamless stitch.
Architect arachnidae
delicately weave, stay sly
attuned to clue vibrations rich
of honey bee or dragonfly.

Spiders stretched white web world wide
digesting juices from inside
before man's ancestors evolved,
and after they'll be buried cold
will still persist as climate change
restricts, extends, contains free range.
My countless kin waged battle royal
against ants, termites, trouble, toil,
my brood will win, grow wings though strange
this may seem now, span tree and soil.

Spidey’s kin spin, far outnumber
lazy men on planet earth
whose tasteless haste and waste encumber
ecosystems, stifle birth.
Prudent spider seeks solution
ingests pest guests. Man spreads pollution.
See impatience, profligate,
seed destruction at his gate,

[...] Read more

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Out Of Control

I have done everything that you say.
I followed your rules without question.
I thought it would help me see things clearly.
But insted of helping me see,
I look around and it is like I am running,
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Im spinning outa control, outa control.
Where should I go, what should I do.
I dont understand what you want from me.
Cauz I dont know, if I can trust you,
I dont understand what you want from me.
I feel like I am spinning out of control
Try to focus but everything is twisted,
And all alone I thought you were be there.
To let me know, Im not alone,
But in fact that is exactly what I want.
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Where should I go, what should I do,
I dont understand what you want from me.
Cauz I dont know, if I can trust you,
Or all of the things you said to me.
And I may never know,
the answer to this sadlis mystery.
Where should I go, what should I do,
I dont understand what you want from me.
It is still a mystery, it is still a mystery.
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Where should I go, what should I do,
I dont understand what you want from me.
Cauz I dont know, if I can trust you,
Or all of the things you said to me.
And I may never know,
the answer to this sadlis mystery.
Where should I go, what should I do,
I dont understand what you want from me.
Im spinning outa control, outa control
Im spinning outa control, outa control!!

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Sing on, Spinning Wheel

(PaaDavE RaaTnamaa)

(With the clarion call given by Gandhiji many intellectuals and poets plunged into Indian freedom struggle. As part of strategy to discourage the use of foreign goods, Gandhiji encouraged Indians to wear the home spun cotton (Khadi) . This song was a popular song written by Kavikokila Duvvuri Rami Reddy, glorifying the khadi and spinning wheel)

Telugu original: KavikOkila Duvvuri Raami Reddy(1895-1947)
Telugu translation: Ch J Satyananda Kumar

poddu poDupoo chukka poDichindi raaTnamaa
gooLLalO pakshulu koosEnu raaTnamaa
aruNakiraNaalatO aaTalaaDEnoolu
tammikaaDalalOni tantulanTEnoolu
manciniiLLallOna maRagipoyyEnoolu
saaliiDupOgutO sarasamaaDEnoolu
gaalitaragalalOna tElipoyyEnoolu
vaDakavE raaTnamaa vajraaladoodi
naDapavE raaTnamaa nakshatraviidhi,

poddu poDupoo cukka poDicindi raaTnamaa
gooLLalO pakshulu koosEnu raaTnamaa

muddulolkE paaTa mutyaalapaaTa
paruvunilpEpaaTa bangaarupaaTa
mattumaapEpaaTa madhurampupaaTa
nidralEpE paaTa niddampu paaTa
kaDupu nimpEpaaTa kanikarapupaaTa
paaDavE raaTnamaa Baavi Baaratamu
aaDavEraaTnamaa aandhra naaTakamu

poddu poDupoo cukka poDicindi raaTnamaa
gooLLalO pakshulu koosEnu raaTnamaa

kaTTa guDDaalEka kaTakaTaa paDucu
kuDuva kooDoo lEka gODu gODanunu
daasya vaaraaSilO darigaana lEka
bedari bedarii coocu pirikipandalanu
aatmanindala tODa naDalu bElalanu
purikolpa SanKambu poorinci lEpi
tippavE raaTnamaa dESa cakrambu
vippavE raaTnamaa vijaya kEtanamu-

Translation:

morning star appeared, Oh spinning wheel
birds in nests chirped, Oh spinning wheel
the cotton thread that plays with the rays of dawn
the cotton thread which looks like the fiber of floral stem
the cotton thread that gets boiled in water
the cotton thread that caresses the spider’s web strand

[...] Read more

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Rock Me, Roll Me

Have you ever been in love before
With a beautiful woman?
Does she have insecurities?
And have you ever been in love before
With a needy woman?
Is she too controlling?
She only wants you to
Rock me (she only wants you to)
Roll me (she only needs you to)
Spend a little more time
Spend a little more time
Rock me (she only wants you to)
Roll me (she only needs you to)
Spend a little more time
Spend a little more time with me
I need ya babe
I need ya babe
Have you ever been in love before with a cheatin woman?
Is she always lying?
Now, you ever been in love before with a crazy woman?
Does she make you crazy?
She only wants you to
Rock me (she only wants you to)
Roll me (she only needs you to)
Spend a little more time
Spend a little more time
Rock me (she only wants you to)
Roll me (she only needs you to)
Spend a little more time
Spend a little more time with me
Thats all I wanrt you to do with me, baby
Love me
Spend a little more time
Spend a little more time
Oh yeah, yeah
Spend a little more time
Spend a little more time
And I only wanna know
I only want to know your loves for real
Be your only girl in this whole wide world, yeah
All of these things are just a part of me
So that you can see what women really need
And I need to be loved
Rock me (she only wants you to)
Roll me (she only needs you to)
Spend a little more time
Spend a little more time
Rock me (she only wants you to)
Roll me (she only needs you to)
Spend a little more time

[...] Read more

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Spinning Top

(d. pickerill/p. odonoughue)
You let me go
til Im weared out
And when Im ready you say youre not
You start a flame, Im not to blame
For what I do
You heat me up, Im all aglow
I move too fast to take it slow
If you could see what you do to me
Youd feel so low
Chorus:
You keep me moving, dont let me stop
You got the whip, Im your spinning top
You keep me moving, dont let me stop
You love keeps spinning me round
You take me up to get me high
And yet you know I cant fly
If I take a chance on this romance
I know Ill fall
Chorus
You turn me round so I dont know
My left from right or where to go
You just dont care and thats not fair
Youre hurting me
Chorus (x2)
Your love keeps spinning me round
Im just your spinning top
Im just your spinning top
Your spinning top
Im just your spinning top
Oh, your spinning top
Spin me, spin me
Im your spinning top
Im just your spinning top
Spinning, spinning top.

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Spiderman

Spider man, spider man
Does whatever a spider can
Spins a web any size
Catches thieves just like flies
Look out!
There comes the spider man
Is he strong?
Listen, bud
Hes got radioactive blood
Can he swing from a thread?
Take a look overhead
Hey, there!
There goes the spider man
In the chill of the night
At the scene of a crime
Like a streak of light
He arrives just in time
Spider man, spider man
Friendly neighborhood spider man
Wealth and fame
Hes ignorant
Action is his reward
Look out!
Here comes the spider man
To him, lifes a big bang up
Whenever theres a hang up
Youll find the spider man.

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Sexy Ida (Part I)

Don't give your love to sexy Ida
'Cause she's the sister of a black widow spider
Don't try your love on sexy Ida
You might as well try it with some spider
She's got this long black hair, it's a hangin' on down her back
Long black pretty legs and she walks just like a cat
Hypnotic eyes and a stacked up love sack
She not only wants your love
She wants your life after that...don't do it
Don't give your love to sexy Ida
'Cause she's the sister of a black widow spider
Said you better not try it
Don't try your love on sexy Ida
You might as well try it with some spider
She's got a king sized bed with satin sheets of love
And you'll never wanna leave, no
The web of love she weaves...but I'll tell you
Don't give your love to sexy Ida
'Cause she's the sister of a black widow spider
You better not try it
Don't try your love on sexy Ida
You might as well try it with some spider
You gotta beware of sexy Ida
'Cause she tries to look so sweet and kind
But her looks can be deceivin'
'Cause her love is like strychnine
So don't give your love now
So don't give your love to sexy Ida
'Cause she's the sister of a black widow spider
Better not give your love to Ida
Don't try your love on sex Ida
You might as well try it with some spider
No, don't you give your love
Don't give your love to sexy Ida
'Cause she's the sister of a black widow spider...

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A Time To Feel Forlorn and Reconstruct What's Torn

There's a designated time in the universe for everything:

A time to limit, a time to expand.
A time to rise, time to lower and lend a hand.

A time to maintain, a time to abandon.
A time to develop, a time to rest at random.

A time to communicate, a time for silence.
A time to kiss your enemy, a time to concede wins.

A time to spite, a time to please.
A time for respite, a time to tease.

A time to process, a time to confess.
A time to do more. A time to do less.

A time to dominate. A time to captivate.
A time to plunge. A time to resurface straight.

A time to maximise. A time to minimise.
A time to diminish. A time to optimise.

A time to sacrifice. time to insist on rights.
A time to be selfish. A time to be concerned about plights.

A time to be big. A time to be small.
A time to care for a special one. A time to love all.

A time to add dimension. A time to simplify.
A time to advocate egalitarianism.
A time to exult.
A time to default.
A time to be accepting of imperfect humanism.

A time to enhance. A time to simplify.
A time to criticise. A time to dignify.

A time to produce. A time to use.
A time to relent. A time to refuse.

A time to demand. A time to give.
A time to die. a time to live.

A time to survive. A time to admit defeat.
A time to lie. A time to walk on your feet.

A time to compete. A time to not.
A time to remember. A time to concede you forgot.

[...] Read more

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Ballad Of Spider John

Ballad of spider john
By: willis a. ramsey
1974
Spider john is my name friend
Im in between freights and I sure would be obliged
If youd share your company
I know this may sound strange to you
But if you wait till the song is sung and the story is told
You might come to understand
Oh, Im old and bent and devil sent, runnin out of time
When I long ago held a royal flush in my hand
Chorus:
Oh, I was a supermarket fool
I was a motor bank stool-pidgeon, robbin my hometown
I thought I lost my blues, yes I thought I paid my dues
I thought Id found a life to suit my style
But here I sit old spider john the robber-man
Long, tall, and handsome
Yes, old spider john with a loaded hand, takin ransom
Then one day I met diamond lill
She was the sweetest thing, I declare
That the summer breeze had ever blown my way
But lilly she had no idea, of my illustrious occupation
She thought I was a saint, not a sinner, gone astray
But you see that the word got around and lilly left town
Never saw her again
Tossin and turnin, causin my heart to grieve
Chorus:
Oh, I was a supermarket fool
I was a motor bank stool-pidgeon, robbin my hometown
I thought I lost my blues, yes I thought I paid my dues
I thought Id found a life to suit my style
But here I sit old spider john the robber-man
Long, tall, and handsome
Yes, old spider john with a loaded hand, takin ransom
That is all my story
Its been these thirty years since I took to the road
To find my precious jewel one
And if you see my lilly, wont you give her my regards
Tell her ole spider got tangled in the black web that he spun
You can tell her ole spider got tangled the black web that he spun

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Boris The Spider

Look, hes crawling up my wall
Black and hairy, very small
Now hes up above my head
Hanging by a little thread
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Now hes dropped on to the floor
Heading for the bedroom door
Maybe hes as scared as me
Wheres he gone now, I cant see
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
There he is wrapped in a ball
Doesnt seem to move at all
Perhaps hes dead, Ill just make sure
Pick this book up off the floor
Boris the spider
Boris the spider
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Creepy, creepy, crawly, crawly
Hes come to a sticky end
Dont think he will ever mend
Never more will he crawl round
Hes embedded in the ground
Boris the spider
Boris the spider

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Foiled by beauty for M'lady Sally plumb

A spider web bedecked with dew.
The early morning sun shines through.
Creates a tapestry of light.
A work of art in its own right.

Because the sparkling dew negates.
The spider webs efficiency.
Until the sun evaporates
the morning dew sufficiently

The spider must wait patiently
until at last she breaks her fast
Flies tangled inextricably
in the sticky threads she cast.

The spider builds instinctively.
A trap we aren’t supposed to see.
As long as it is visible
It’s totally impossible.

For the silken trap to do
(It is designed to be unseen)
The task it is intended to.
But for the dew it would have been.

Although it’s pleasing to our eyes
We know it isn’t meant to be
It’s obvious to passing flies
who can avoid it easily.

The hungry spider would prefer
to do without the morning dew.
Which seems intent to deprive her
of fat flies which are her due.

The spider’s loss is our gain
We see the transient beauty.
Which we may never see again.
If only temporarily.

The spider web bedecked with dew
To us a source of great delight
Created each morning anew
by dew drops reflecting sun light.

Although the spider breakfasts late.
There’s little doubt she will survive.
I’m sure she will appreciate
her breakfast when it does arrive.

[...] Read more

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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!

[...] Read more

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Courtship of Miles Standish, The

I
MILES STANDISH

In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.

Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Courtship of Miles Standish

I
MILES STANDISH

In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.

Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted

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A Spider and A Fly

One day a spider said to a fly
'Though you pass this way daily

My hut has never been honored by you
By making a chance visit inside by you

Though depriving strangers of a visit does not matter
Evading the near and dear ones does not look good

My house will be honored by a visit by you
A ladder is before you if you decide to step in

Hearing this the fly said to the spider,
'Sire, you should entice some simpleton thus

This fly would never be pulled into your net
Whoever climbed your net could never step down'

The spider said, 'How strange, you consider me a cheat
I have never seen a simpleton like you in the world

I only wanted to entertain you
I had no personal gain in view

You have come flying from some unknown distant place
Resting for a while in my house would not harm you

Many things in this house are worth your seeing
Though apparently a humble hut you are seeing

Dainty drapes are hanging from the doors
And I have decorated the walls with mirrors

Beddings are available for guests' comforts
Not to everyone's lot do fall these comforts'.

The fly said, 'All this may very well be
But do not expect me to enter your house

'May God protect me from these soft beds
Once asleep in them getting up again is impossible'


The spider spoke to itself on hearing this talk
'How to trap it? This wretched fellow is clever

Many desires are fulfilled with flattery in the world
All in the world are enslaved with flattery'

Thinking this the spider spoke to the fly thus!

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The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies

I

'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,—and with a broader sphere
The Moon looks down on Ceres and her sheaves;
When more abundantly the spider weaves,
And the cold wind breathes from a chillier clime;—
That forth I fared, on one of those still eves,
Touch'd with the dewy sadness of the time,
To think how the bright months had spent their prime,


II

So that, wherever I address'd my way,
I seem'd to track the melancholy feet
Of him that is the Father of Decay,
And spoils at once the sour weed and the sweet;—
Wherefore regretfully I made retreat
To some unwasted regions of my brain,
Charm'd with the light of summer and the heat,
And bade that bounteous season bloom again,
And sprout fresh flowers in mine own domain.


III

It was a shady and sequester'd scene,
Like those famed gardens of Boccaccio,
Planted with his own laurels evergreen,
And roses that for endless summer blow;
And there were fountain springs to overflow
Their marble basins,—and cool green arcades
Of tall o'erarching sycamores, to throw
Athwart the dappled path their dancing shades,—
With timid coneys cropping the green blades.


IV

And there were crystal pools, peopled with fish,
Argent and gold; and some of Tyrian skin,
Some crimson-barr'd;—and ever at a wish
They rose obsequious till the wave grew thin
As glass upon their backs, and then dived in,
Quenching their ardent scales in watery gloom;
Whilst others with fresh hues row'd forth to win
My changeable regard,—for so we doom
Things born of thought to vanish or to bloom.

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