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Bush promised a foreign policy of humility and a domestic policy of compassion. He has given us a foreign policy of arrogance and a domestic policy that is cynical, myopic and cruel.

quote by Joe Klein
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love & Compassion

I used to think love was a dying art
Compassion couldnt live within a crowded heart
I saw my freedom in a poor mans eyes
Hope like a light, will to survive
A sense of dignity to hold up high
These are the simple things
That keep us all alive
And though the rich buy power for a time
One thing that money cant buy
Chorus
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Thats what it takes
(give love...youre gonna feel love...
Ooo... feel love... youre gonna give love)
One night when I was feelin all alone
I saw a shadow walking in the danger zone
I knew that I would have to make a choice
Hunger in my heart, hunger in my spirit
We wont be free until we equalize
The price of power to the price of every life
And though I know its gonna take some time
Someday were all gonna find
Love and compassion
(onlv) love and compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Thats what it takes to relate
Love and compassion
(only) love and compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me
(oniy) love und compassion
Thats what it takes
(give love... ooo feel love... youre gonna
Feel love... if you give love)
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
Love und compassion
(only) love und compassion
Give it to you
Give it to me

[...] Read more

song performed by Hall & Oates
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cruel Summer

Dans la chaleur de la nuit qui s'enroule tout autour de moi
Je marche seule sans savoir pourquoi tu n'es plus l
Ca tourne dans ma tte
Et tout s'arrte
Ta voix me parle tout bas
Je ne sais plus o j'en suis, je ne vois plus que toi
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
The city is crowed
My friends are away
And I'm on my own
It's too handle
So I've got to get up and go
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer Cruel summer, it's a cruel summer
It's a cruel, cruel summer
C'est fini
Tu n'es qu'un rve qui s'enfuit
It's a cruel, cruel summer
Now you're gone
You're not the only one
It's a crue , cruel summer, c'est fini

song performed by Ace Of Base
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cynical Days

Another years gone by,
The worlds grown older,
Sometimes I heave a sigh,
People grow colder.
Every day I do my best to show,
I can make it in this world I know,
But all the bad thoughts that people bring,
My faith in human natures
Getting pretty thin.
Help me get through these cynical days.
Help me get through my cynical ways.
You say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through, these cynical days.
Another see through scheme,
People are shallow.
The dark nights closing in,
My dark thoughts follow.
I try and make my world a better place,
(my efforts seem in vain),
But Im competing in a human race,
(falling deeper down the drain),
That value things that just dont count,
Makes me wonder what its all about.
Help me get through these cynical days.
Help me get through my cynical ways.
You say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Yeah, you say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Yeah, you say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Yeah, you say its just a passing phase,
Youve got to help me get through these cynical days.
Cynical days.
Cynical days.

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Secretly Cruel

I saw my pictures hangin on her wall
She cut it out of that magazine
It was a hot day, she wore lingerie
And nothin else in between, ooh
She had long hair and thigh high snake skin boots
And she was all over me like a cheap suit
Then she bared herself, aha
And stripped my soul
Began to shake, rattle, and roll
Then I took control, yeah
But I know shes secretly cruel
I aint nobodys fool
Yeah, I know shes secretly cruel
Just when I though it was safe
She puts her lips to my face
Shes secretly, secretly cruel
Well she grabbed my hair
And I began to rise
I could tell what she wanted
By that look in her eyes, oh, ow
By that look in her eyes, yeah
I said come here babe and make it quick
She said not so fast
And had a drink
Well it aint just luck
But I better knock on wood
Shes gonna give me everything
Somehow I knew she would
Oh, but I know shes secretly cruel
I aint nobodys fool
Well, I know shes secretly cruel
I said baby youre the fire, but I am the fuel
Shes secretly, secretly cruel
Yeah, so cruel
Well it aint just luck (aint just luck)
But I better knock on wood, yeah
Shes gonna give me everything
Somehow I knew she would
Oh, but I know shes secretly cruel
I aint nobodys fool, nobodys fool
Secretly, shes so cruel (cruel)
Im in love, but I dont play the fool
Secretly, shes so cruel, secretly, so cruel
Cruel, yeah, cruel, yeah, cruel, yeah
I know shes secretly, shes so cruel, secretly, so cruel
Cruel, yeah, cruel, yeah, cruel, yeah
I know shes secretly, shes so cruel, secretly, shes so cruel
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, secretly, secretly cruel, cruel

song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Promise

How time will heal
Make me forget
You promised me
Time will heal
Make me forget
You promised me
Love will save us all
And time will heal
You promised me...
How love will save
Make me forget
You promised me
Love will save
Make me forget
You promised me
Time will heal us all
And love will save
You promised me...
I trusted you
I wanted your words
Believed in you
I needed your words
Time will heal
Make me forget
And love will save us all
You promised me another wish
Another way
You promised me another dream
Another day
You promised me another time
You promised me another life
You promised me...
So I swallowed the shame and I waited
I buried the blame and I waited
Choked back years of memories...
I pushed down the pain and I waited
Trying to forget...
You promised me another wish
Another way
You promised me another dream
Another day
You promised me another time
You promised me...
Another lie
Oh you promised me...
You promised me...you promised me
And I waited...and I waited...and I waited...
And I'm still waiting...

song performed by Cure
Added by Lucian Velea
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When the Bush Begins to Speak

They know us not in England yet, their pens are overbold;
We're seen in fancy pictures that are fifty years too old.
They think we are a careless race - a childish race, and weak;
They'll know us yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.

'The leaders that will be', the men of southern destiny,
Are not all found in cities that are builded by the sea;
They learn to love Australia by many a western creek,
They'll know them yet in England, when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.

All ready for the struggle, and waiting for the change,
The army of our future lies encamped beyond the range;
Australia, for her patriots, will not have far to seek;
They'll know her yet in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.

We'll find the peace and comfort that our fathers could not find,
Or some shall strike the good old blow that leaves a mark behind.
We'll find the Truth and Liberty our fathers came to seek,
Or let them know in England when the bush begins to speak;
When the bush begins to speak,
When the bush begins to speak,
When the west by Greed's invaded, and the bush begins to speak.

poem by Henry Lawson
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That Beating Of The Bush

I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.

That beating of the bush.

I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.

That beating of the bush.

I have this 'thing' about honest and truth.
And those who become offended,
By declaring them too harsh to accept!

There has not been an experience I received,
I regretted with a wish to forget!
And those attempting to live their lives,
In pretense to deceive believing this is not deception...
Will always escape with excuses and alibis to make.
Charading as if...
No one recognizes,
Who is in masquerade.
And who amongst them fakes!

I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.

That beating of the bush.

I'm not into,
The beating of the bush.

That beating of the bush.

An honesty and truth spoken,
From deceivers is rare.
Those who deceive perceive...
Those who are direct and honest,
Are insensitive and do not care!
With a sharing of this mentality...
To those empathetic,
In a keeping of delusions...
Spared from despair!

But I know I'm not the only one...
Who elects to see,
Dishonesty from all people get up and leave.
I can't be!

I'm not into,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Cynical Baby Downtown

'Soothing voices are announcing,
cynical baby downtown,
another suppression of hope,
a day of compulsory dancing,
cynical baby downtown,
and subliminal sex, guns and dope.

The mistress of rude assumptions,
cynical baby downtown,
is trying to give us a clue,
displaying the bodily functions,
cynical baby downtown,
of what I might mean to you.

Old men are showing photographs,
cynical baby downtown,
of some of the targets we hit;
I guess the animal that laughs,
cynical baby downtown,
has had a testosterone fit.

And the party went ballistic,
cynical baby downtown,
but no one was to blame;
it was your explosive lipstick,
cynical baby downtown,
that had just spoken my name.'

poem by Nancy Ames
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Cruel Young Lover

Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Just because you can
You treat me like a fool
But just because you can
Dont make it right
Can it be so hard
To be a little kind
And you could be here
With me tonight
Ive got feelings
Dont be unkind
Feelings
Dont be unkind
Feelings
Stay with me tonight
Youve been stealing
Thats so unkind
Stealing
A heart, a mind
Stealing
Stay with me tonight
Cruel young lover
Blow your mind out
Time will come when
You will find out
Time will take your cruel power away
Cruel young lover
Try to stand out
Will it always pay
To bland out?
Time will take your cruel power away
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Do you hear me?
Once again youre gone
Somewhere in the night
Disappearing
Leaving me alone
The lure of city streets
The pull of unknown souls
The overpowering draw

[...] Read more

song performed by Human League
Added by Lucian Velea
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No, No, No

No!!
Let me take my scarf off,
No, no, no, yes, yes, yes.
Dont help me, (help me)
I can do it and you know it.
Dont touch me, (touch me)
I dont like it.
Let me take my blouse off,
No, no, no, yes, yes, yes.
Dont help me, (help me)
I can do it and you know it.
Dont touch me, (touch me)
I dont like it.
You promised me, you promised me,
You promised me, you promised me.
I dont remember what you promised,
I know you didnt keep it.
Let me take my pants off,
No, no, no, yes, yes, yes.
Dont hold me, (hold me)
I dont want it.
Youre thinking of rock hudson when we do it. (lets do it!)
Let me take my ring off,
No, no, no, yes, yes, yes.
Dont do it, (do it!)
I cant do it,
Im seeing broken glass when we do it. (do it!)
You promised me, you promised me,
You promised me, you promised me.
I dont remember what we promised,
But I know we didnt keep it.
You promised me, you promised me,
You promised me, you promised me.
I dont remember what we promised,
But I miss you!

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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No, No, No/a Little Story

No!!
Let me take my scarf off,
No, no, no, yes, yes, yes.
Dont help me, (help me)
I can do it and you know it.
Dont touch me, (touch me)
I dont like it.
Let me take my blouse off,
No, no, no, yes, yes, yes.
Dont help me, (help me)
I can do it and you know it.
Dont touch me, (touch me)
I dont like it.
You promised me, you promised me,
You promised me, you promised me.
I dont remember what you promised,
I know you didnt keep it.
Let me take my pants off,
No, no, no, yes, yes, yes.
Dont hold me, (hold me)
I dont want it.
Youre thinking of rock hudson when we do it. (lets do it!)
Let me take my ring off,
No, no, no, yes, yes, yes.
Dont do it, (do it!)
I cant do it,
Im seeing broke glass when we do it. (do it!)
You promised me, you promised me,
You promised me, you promised me.
I dont remember what we promised,
But I know we didnt keep it.
You promised me, you promised me,
You promised me, you promised me.
I dont remember what we promised,
But I miss you!
- once there was this little boy who asked his father,
Would you tell me that old, old story?
Once there was this little boy who asked his father,
Would you tell me that old, old story?
Once there was this little boy and he went to...
- mummy...you should remember this more because dyou know why?
- why?
- I learnt it from my daddy, you know.
- umm-umm.
- hah-hah.
- once there was this little boy who asked his father
To tell him that old, old, old, old, old, old story.
Once upon a time there was this little boy who said,
Would you tell me that old, old story?
Once upon...

[...] Read more

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bush At Helm

Turkey’s Touristic Problem
Kurds coming over the hill!
Bush’s sovereign
non-interventionist, Foreign
Policy! Mountain
grave sides agore to fill!

Arise with Saddam’s Hitler admired
imitated stylised televised word!
Scapegoats falsely labelled executed
insurgents reduced rankle not dead!

In flight fled fear fed!
Refugee refuge
safe sanitary zones?

Symbolic symptom
(flat-lining) Bush’s!
International problem
ignored (New World Order) !

A few baby refugee corpses
small accountant price to pay!
(collateral damage civilian)
For history sought new world order!
Is this true political point scoring?
Sentiment stripped to bare bone?
Baboon floating his own balloon?

Democracy must accountable mean
no elected esteemed humane official?
Is above pan-morality credibility Check!
Democracy must not be policy tarnished!
Diverted treated acted easily white washed!
Non-accountable an expendable indifference!

An estimated? millions of Kurds!
Fled into neighbouring countries
during the Bush crisis in 1991!

An estimated four to five
million persecuted Iraqi Kurds!
Under Saddam’s dictatorship!
Were forbidden to celebrate
their ethnic culture! Or organize
representative political activities!

Oppressed Iraqi Kurds
were under constant invasive state
censure! Surveillance!

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Compassion

You want more, and still more,
Until you get more than you ever bargained for.
Now its plain, clear as rain,
Ive seen your symptoms many times before.
Lying on your bed of pain
What will you have now?
What are riches untold in a life without compassion?
For theres no winter as cold
As a life without compassion.
Theres no prescription thats sold
That can heal you like compassion.
Well you tried and you cried,
And let your disappointment make you hard inside.
You have doubt, you reach out,
Still youre the only one you care about.
Hiding in your sack of woe
What do you need now?
For there is nothing so sad
As a life without compassion.
And even love has turned bad,
It was love without compassion.
And you dont need what you had
cause you did not have compassion.
Dying on your bed of pain
What will you have now?
Youll get no judgment from me,
I can only feel compassion.
And if thats what you need,
I will give you my compassion.
Just dont forget about me
cause we all need some compassion.
Open up your heart
So you can start to feel compassion.
Get down on your knees,
Pray to heaven for compassion.
Everybody needs compassion.
If you want to be healed
Then you know you got to feel compassion.

song performed by Todd Rundgren
Added by Lucian Velea
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Today, I want to be cynical!

Today, I want to be cynical
I won’t listen those long lyrical
I don’t care people’s opinion
Today, I want to be cynical
I’ll be the sour vinegar
On the tip of your tongue
I’ll quench my cold blood
I’ll shut my crying heart

Today, I want to be cynical
I deny false sympathy
I believe world’s hypocrisy
Today, I want to be cynical
I’ll burn your comical face
With acid glance’s attack
I’ll breed my poisonous words
I’ll carve my sadistic smile

Today, I want to be cynical
I shame self pity
I laugh at naivety
Today, I want to be cynical
I’ll be the sound of thunder
Shake often your bright day
I’ll know your hidden mistake
I’ll close your chance to break

Today, I want to be cynical!

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Power. Book III.

The Argument

Solomon considers man through the several stages and conditions of life, and concludes, in general, that we are all miserable. He reflects more particularly upon the trouble and uncertainty of greatness and power; gives some instances thereof from Adam down to himself; and still concludes that All Is Vanity. He reasons again upon life, death, and a future being; finds human wisdom too imperfect to resolve his doubts; has recourse to religion; is informed by an angel what shall happen to himself, his family, and his kingdom, till the redemption of Israel; and, upon the whole, resolves to submit his inquiries and anxieties to the will of his Creator.

Come then, my soul: I call thee by that name,
Thou busy thing, from whence I know I am;
For, knowing that I am, I know thou art,
Since that must needs exist which can impart:
But how thou camest to be, or whence thy spring,
For various of thee priests and poets sing.

Hearest thou submissive, but a lowly birth,
Some secret particles of finer earth,
A plain effect which Nature must beget,
As motion orders, and as atoms meet,
Companion of the body's good or ill,
From force of instinct more than choice of will,
Conscious of fear or valour, joy or pain,
As the wild courses of the blood ordain;
Who, as degrees of heat and cold prevail,
In youth dost flourish, and with age shalt fail,
Till, mingled with thy partner's latest breath,
Thou fliest, dissolved in air and lost in death.

Or, if thy great existence would aspire
To causes more sublime, of heavenly fire
Wert thou a spark struck off, a separate ray,
Ordain'd to mingle with terrestrial clay,
With it condemn'd for certain years to dwell,
To grieve its frailties, and its pains to feel,
To teach it good and ill, disgrace or fame,
Pale it with rage, or redden it with shame,
To guide its actions with informing care,
In peace to judge, to conquer in the war;
Render it agile, witty, valiant, sage,
As fits the various course of human age,
Till, as the earthly part decays and falls,
The captive breaks her prison's mouldering walls,
Hovers awhile upon the sad remains,
Which now the pile or sepulchre contains,
And thence, with liberty unbounded, flies,
Impatient to regain her native skies?

Whate'er thou art, where'er ordain'd to go,
(Points which we rather may dispute than know)
Come on, thou little inmate of this breast,
Which for thy sake from passions'l divest
For these, thou say'st, raise all the stormy strife,

[...] Read more

poem by Matthew Prior
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Met Pet Goat While Twin Towers Burn

"9/11 justified
invasion Afghanistan?
really Taliban

zero hijackers
zero links
to al-Qaeda?

at the time
hijackers were Arab?
not Afghani?

President George W. Bush
failed nation America
ordered total no shot down"

9: 03 a.m. Bush no action partakes
in a meaningless primary publicity
photo-op ignoring responsibility

continental US is already under attack

at Emma E. Booker Elementary
School in Sarasota, Florida
Mr President beat around the Bush

is reading 'Met Pet Goat'
to school children
for five critical minutes

after he had been told
second World Trade
Center tower had been hit

that America was under attack

wait rewind "What's the time? "

approximately 8: 48 a.m.
morning September 11 2001
first pictures of burning

World Trade Center

are broadcast on live television
reporters news anchors viewers
have had no advance warning

"What has happened in lower Manhattan?

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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The King of the Vasse

A LEGEND OF THE BUSH.

MY tale which I have brought is of a time
Ere that fair Southern land was stained with crime,
Brought thitherward in reeking ships and cast
Like blight upon the coast, or like a blast
From angry levin on a fair young tree,
That stands thenceforth a piteous sight to see.
So lives this land to-day beneath the sun,—
A weltering plague-spot, where the hot tears run,
And hearts to ashes turn, and souls are dried
Like empty kilns where hopes have parched and died.
Woe's cloak is round her,—she the fairest shore
In all the Southern Ocean o'er and o'er.
Poor Cinderella! she must bide her woe,
Because an elder sister wills it so.
Ah! could that sister see the future day
When her own wealth and strength are shorn away,
A.nd she, lone mother then, puts forth her hand
To rest on kindred blood in that far land;
Could she but see that kin deny her claim
Because of nothing owing her but shame,—
Then might she learn 'tis building but to fall,
If carted rubble be the basement-wall.

But this my tale, if tale it be, begins
Before the young land saw the old land's sins
Sail up the orient ocean, like a cloud
Far-blown, and widening as it neared,—a shroud
Fate-sent to wrap the bier of all things pure,
And mark the leper-land while stains endure.
In the far days, the few who sought the West
Were men all guileless, in adventurous quest
Of lands to feed their flocks and raise their grain,
And help them live their lives with less of pain
Than crowded Europe lets her children know.
From their old homesteads did they seaward go,
As if in Nature's order men must flee
As flow the streams,—from inlands to the sea.

In that far time, from out a Northern land,
With home-ties severed, went a numerous band
Of men and wives and children, white-haired folk:
Whose humble hope of rest at home had broke,
As year was piled on year, and still their toil
Had wrung poor fee from -Sweden's rugged soil.
One day there gathered from the neighboring steads,
In Jacob Eibsen's, five strong household heads,—
Five men large-limbed and sinewed, Jacob's sons,

[...] Read more

poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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The Pillage Hangman - Parody LONGFELLOW - The Village Blacksmith

Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The Smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can
And looks the whole world in the face
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming furge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church
and sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach.
He hears his daughter's voice
singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling, -rejoicing, -sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Foreign Lands

You may roam the wide seas over, follow, meet, and cross the sun,
Sail as far as ships can sail, and travel far as trains can run;
You may ride and tramp wherever range or plain or sea expands,
But the crowd has been before you, and you’ll not find ‘Foreign Lands;’
For the Early Days are over,
And no more the white-winged rover
Sinks the gale-worn coast of England bound for bays in Foreign Lands.
Foreign Lands are in the distance dim and dreamlike, faint and far,
Long ago, and over yonder, where our boyhood fancies are,
For the land is by the railway cramped as though with iron bands,
And the steamship and the cable did away with Foreign Lands.
Ah! the days of blue and gold!
When the news was six months old—
But the news was worth the telling in the days of Foreign Lands.

Here we slave the dull years hopeless for the sake of Wool and Wheat
Here the homes of ugly Commerce—niggard farm and haggard street;
Yet our mothers and our fathers won the life the heart demands—
Less than fifty years gone over, we were born in Foreign Lands.

When the gipsies stole the children still, in village tale and song,
And the world was wide to travel, and the roving spirit strong;
When they dreamed of South Sea Islands, summer seas and coral strands—
Then the bravest hearts of England sailed away to Foreign Lands,
‘Fitting foreign’—flood and field—
Half the world and orders sealed—
And the first and best of Europe went to fight in Foreign Lands.

Canvas towers on the ocean—homeward bound and outward bound—
Glint of topsails over islands—splash of anchors in the sound;
Then they landed in the forests, took their strong lives in their hands,
And they fought and toiled and conquered—making homes in Foreign Lands,
Through the cold and through the drought—
Further on and further out—
Winning half the world for England in the wilds of Foreign Lands.

Love and pride of life inspired them when the simple village hearts
Followed Master Will and Harry—gone abroad to ‘furrin parts’
By our townships and our cities, and across the desert sands
Are the graves of those who fought and died for us in Foreign Lands—
Gave their young lives for our sake
(Was it all a grand mistake?)
Sons of Master Will and Harry born abroad in Foreign Lands!

Ah, my girl, our lives are narrow, and in sordid days like these,
I can hate the things that banished ‘Foreign Lands across the seas,’
But with all the world before us, God above us—hearts and hands,
I can sail the seas in fancy far away to Foreign Lands.

poem by Henry Lawson
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Orlando Furioso Canto 20

ARGUMENT
Guido and his from that foul haunt retire,
While all Astolpho chases with his horn,
Who to all quarters of the town sets fire,
Then roving singly round the world is borne.
Marphisa, for Gabrina's cause, in ire
Puts upon young Zerbino scathe and scorn,
And makes him guardian of Gabrina fell,
From whom he first learns news of Isabel.

I
Great fears the women of antiquity
In arms and hallowed arts as well have done,
And of their worthy works the memory
And lustre through this ample world has shone.
Praised is Camilla, with Harpalice,
For the fair course which they in battle run.
Corinna and Sappho, famous for their lore,
Shine two illustrious light, to set no more.

II
Women have reached the pinnacle of glory,
In every art by them professed, well seen;
And whosoever turns the leaf of story,
Finds record of them, neither dim nor mean.
The evil influence will be transitory,
If long deprived of such the world had been;
And envious men, and those that never knew
Their worth, have haply hid their honours due.

III
To me it plainly seems, in this our age
Of women such is the celebrity,
That it may furnish matter to the page,
Whence this dispersed to future years shall be;
And you, ye evil tongues which foully rage,
Be tied to your eternal infamy,
And women's praises so resplendent show,
They shall, by much, Marphisa's worth outgo.

IV
To her returning yet again; the dame
To him who showed to her such courteous lore,
Refused not to disclose her martial name,
Since he agreed to tell the style be bore.
She quickly satisfied the warrior's claim;
To learn his title she desired so sore.
'I am Marphisa,' the virago cried:
All else was known, as bruited far and wide.

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poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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