The cure for writer's cramp is writer's block.
quote by Inigo DeLeon
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Road Block
Yeah!, all right!
Oh, ain't no problem
Carry no heavy load
Lord, no!
Why can't i love you, baby ?
You try to block my road.
You try to block my road. hey!
Oh, better off to hand you
Everything i own, ha ha ha ha!
Strange to see you waiting for me,
You try to block my road, yeah yeah,
Try to block my road
Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block daddy daddy daddy
Road block
Road block
Alright on the road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Yeah! road block
Road block, alright, alright, alright!
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Whoa road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Road block
Yeah!
Try to block my road, daddy daddy daddy
I said now every time i turn around
[...] Read more
song performed by Janis Joplin
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Ain't No Cure For Love (Crush Demo)
Aint no cure for love
Aint no cure for love
There aint no cure for love
Aint no cure
Cupid was a blind man
He must have missed his mark
Shot an arrow in the air and hit me in the heart
I went to see Saint Valentine
Said Whats come over me?
Daddy must have missed the chapter about the birds and bees
You can be the King of diamonds
You can cash in all your gold
You could hire Johnnie Cochran
Its too late to save your soul
Dont need no shot, no ambulance
Dont need prescription drugs
There aint no cure for love
They can find the cure for the common cold
When the pushing comes to shove
There aint no cure for love
Now someone call my lawyer
Im going to see my shrink
I found myself in the jewelry store buying a diamond ring
I went to see my doctor
Said Wont you help me please?
He said Son Im sorry, its a terminal disease
Cant get no love insurance
Cupid draws his bow
I aint waving boys, Im drowning
Its a damn good way to go
Dont need no shot, no ambulance
Dont need prescription drugs
There aint no cure for love
They can find the cure for the common cold
When the pushing comes to shove
There aint no cure for love
You can be the King of Diamonds
You can cash in all your gold
You can hire Johnnie Cochran
Its too late to save your soul
Dont need no shot, no ambulance
Dont need prescription drugs
There aint no cure for love
They can find the cure for the common cold
When the pushing comes to shove
There aint no cure for love
No aspirin
No ambulance
Or Voodoo you can think up
Aint no cure for love
[...] Read more
song performed by Bon Jovi
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Aint No Cure For Love
I loved you for a long, long time
I know this love is real
It dont matter how it all went wrong
That dont change the way I feel
And I cant believe that times
Gonna heal this wound Im speaking of
There aint no cure,
There aint no cure,
There aint no cure for love.
Im aching for you baby
I cant pretend Im not
I need to see you naked
In your body and your thought
Ive got you like a habit
And Ill never get enough
There aint no cure,
There aint no cure,
There aint no cure for love
There aint no cure for love
There aint no cure for love
All the rocket ships are climbing through the sky
The holy books are open wide
The doctors working day and night
But theyll never ever find that cure for love
There aint no drink no drug
(ah tell them, angels)
Theres nothing pure enough to be a cure for love
I see you in the subwayand I see you on the bus
I see you lying down with me, I see you waking up
I see your hand, I see your hair
Your bracelets and your brush
And I call to you, I call to you
But I dont call soft enough
There aint no cure,
There aint no cure,
There aint no cure for love
I walked into this empty church I had no place else to go
When the sweetest voice I ever heard, whispered to my soul
I dont need to be forgiven for loving you so much
Its written in the scriptures
Its written there in blood
I even heard the angels declare it from above
There aint no cure,
There aint no cure,
There aint no cure for love
There aint no cure for love
There aint no cure for love
All the rocket ships are climbing through the sky
The holy books are open wide
The doctors working day and night
[...] Read more
song performed by Leonard Cohen
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The Secret Whisky Cure
’Tis no tale of heroism, ’tis no tale of storm and strife,
But of ordinary boozing, and of dull domestic life—
Of the everlasting friction that most husbands must endure—
Tale of nagging and of drinking—and a secret whisky cure.
Name of Jones—perhaps you know him—small house-agent here in town—
(Friend of Smith, you know him also—likewise Robinson and Brown),
Just a hopeless little husband, whose deep sorrows were obscure,
And a bitter nagging Missis—and death seemed the only cure.
’Twas a common sordid marriage, and there’s little new to tell—
Save the pub to him was Heaven and his own home was a hell:
With the office in between them—purgatory to be sure—
And, as far as Jones could make out—well, there wasn’t any cure.
’Twas drink and nag—or nag and drink—whichever you prefer—
Till at last she couldn’t stand him any more than he could her.
Friends and relatives assisted, telling her (with motives pure)
That a legal separation was the only earthly cure.
So she went and saw a lawyer, who, in accents soft and low,
Asked her firstly if her husband had a bank account or no;
But he hadn’t and she hadn’t, they in fact were very poor,
So he bowed her out suggesting she should try some liquor cure.
She saw a drink cure advertised in the Sydney Bulletin—
Cure for brandy, cure for whisky, cure for rum and beer and gin,
And it could be given secret, it was tasteless, swift and sure—
So she purchased half a gallon of that Secret Whisky Cure.
And she put some in his coffee, smiling sweetly all the while,
And he started for the office rather puzzled by the smile—
Smile or frown he’d have a whisky, and you’ll say he was a boor—
But perhaps his wife had given him an overdose of Cure.
And he met a friend he hadn’t seen for seven years or more—
It was just upon the threshold of a private bar-room door—
And they coalised and entered straight away, you may be sure—
But of course they hadn’t reckoned with a Secret Whisky Cure.
Jones, he drank, turned pale, and, gasping, hurried out the back way quick,
Where, to his old chum’s amazement, he was violently sick;
Then they interviewed the landlord, but he swore the drink was pure—
It was only the beginning of the Secret Whisky Cure.
For Jones couldn’t stand the smell of even special whisky blends,
And shunned bar-rooms to the sorrow of his trusty drinking friends:
And they wondered, too, what evil genius had chanced to lure
Him from paths of booze and friendship—never dreaming of a Cure.
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Lawson
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Paperback Writer
(LennonMcCartney)
Paperback writer
Dear Sir or Madam, will you read my book?
It took me years to write, will you take a look?
It's based on a novel by a man named Lear
And I need a job, so I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's the dirty story of a dirty man
And his clinging wife doesn't understand
His son is working for the Daily Mail
It's a steady job but he wants to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
It's a thousand pages, give or take a few
I'll be writing more in a week or two
I can make it longer if you like the style
I can change it round and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
If you really like it you can have the rights
It could make a million for you overnight
If you must return it, you can send it here
But I need a break and I want to be a paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer
Paperback writer, paperback writer (fade out)
song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Cure Of Calumette
Dere's no voyageur on de reever never
run hees canoe d'ecorce
T'roo de roar an' de rush of de rapide, w'ere it
jump lak a beeg w'ite horse,
Dere's no hunter man on de prairie, never
wear w'at you call racquette
Can beat leetle Fader O'Hara, de Curé of
Calumette.
Hees fader is full-blooded Irish, an' hees moder
is pure Canayenne,
Not offen dat stock go tegedder, but she's
fine combination ma frien'
For de Irish he's full of de devil, an' de French
dey got savoir faire,
Dat's mak'it de very good balance an' tak'
you mos' ev'ry w' ere.
But dere' wan t'ing de Curé wont stan' it;
mak' fun of de Irlandais
An' of course de French we say not'ing,
'cos de parish she's all Canayen,
Den you see on account of de moder, he can't
spik hese'f very moche,
So de ole joke she's all out of fashion, an' wan
of dem t'ing we don't touch.
Wall! wan of dat kin' is de Curé, but w'en he
be comin' our place
De peop' on de parish all w'isper, 'How
young he was look on hees face;
Too bad if de wedder she keel heem de firse
tam he got leetle wet,
An' de Bishop might sen' beeger Curé, for it's
purty tough place, Calumette!'
Ha! ha! how I wish I was dere, me, w'en he
go on de mission call
On de shaintee camp way up de reever, drivin'
hees own cariole,
An' he meet blagger' feller been drinkin', jus'
enough mak' heem ack lak fou,
Joe Vadeboncoeur, dey was call heem, an' he's
purty beeg feller too!
Mebbe Joe he don't know it's de Curé, so he's
hollerin', 'Get out de way,
If you don't geev me whole of de roadside,
sapree! you go off on de sleigh.'
But de Curé he never say not'ing, jus' poule
[...] Read more
poem by William Henry Drummond
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Prettiest Cop On The Block
I'm 6 foot 3 with a fist like a hammer
And I work with the Vice Squad when I can
And when I pull out my badge they forget all my glamor
Little guys all surprised
Take a seat
Peek at me
It's a bust
I'm a man
I'm the prettiest cop on the block I set your souls on fire
Yes, I'm the prettiest cop on the block
I'm cool and I'm so mean
Oh, I'm the prettiest cop on the block
I've handcuffed your desire
I've got a stiff reputation with a stick like a rock
My kids are confused and my wife is in shock
I'm a full blooded man not a weak immitation
I like to flex my arms in the neon lights
I'm a queen on the street and a king at the station
It's a secret of mine, not a sign I'm gonna make that right
Because..
I'm the prettiest cop on the block I set your souls on fire
Yes, I'm the prettiest cop on the block
I'm cool and I'm so mean
Oh, I'm the prettiest cop on the block
I've handcuffed your desire
I've got a stiff reputation with a stick like a rock
My kids are confused and my wife is in shock
I must look pretty shocking
In my bullet proof vest
With my black lace stockings
All this hair on my chest
When the boys see me coming
All the boys start to run
They all got their empty holsters
And I got the only gun
Because..
Because, I'm the prettiest cop on the block
I set your souls on fire
Yes, I'm the prettiest cop on the block
I'm cool and I'm so mean
Yes, I'm the prettiest cop on the block
I handcuff your desires
I got a stiff reputation with a stick like a rock
My kids are confused and my wife is in shock
I'm the prettiest cop on the block
I set your souls on fire
Yes, I'm the prettiest cop on the block
And I'm cool -- so mean
I'm the prettiest cop on the block
I handcuff your desires
[...] Read more
song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
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Block Burner
Verse 1: (lil wayne)
Ha ha ha ha check it
Its me thats creepin through the back
And the black on black
Lil soldier with a mac
I bust back till it crack
You see I ride tonight
Bullets fly at night
Lain tonight
Wayne and get high at night
And a high tonight when Im duckin round the mirrors
I run over niggas like eighteen wheelers
Hungry gorilla
Ah what cha what cha got wootay
Gettin beef thinks its cool I hit cha hit cha block wootay
Hit cha get cha gurl
Choppa choppa neighborhood
Let his poppa understood
Nigga burn like wood
And I swang
Through yo house wit that thang
Fo-five range
Can you catch me where I reign
Now look hang to below the sealevel
I be hotter than a devil
Lil daddy Im on fire
17 rider
Mac-mac his supplier
Lil boy my chopper make mo noise than a choir
One of these niggas gone leave here brainless
Some of these niggas aint gone even be remainin
Look now you keep thinkin Im to be played with
My gage spray quick
I aint ta be played with
I ride like a rollercoaster
When I ride with uptown soldiers
Im comin up the back my grill start to spark
Opp Im coming up the front (breathing hard) ya caught
Now where you gone run and where you gone turn
Oohh I got my gun
Oohh chopper bullets burn
To whom it may concern
Chopper bullets burn
Get through your block like a perm
Look weak like sperm
(chorus) 2x
Now check the whole block the whole block catch a fire
I be the I be the block block on the rider
Verse 2
I spin yo corner with my size 16 sankin
[...] Read more
song performed by Hot Boys
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Danger
[Intro]
The brotha's got this complex occupation
The brotha's got this complex occupation
The brotha's got this complex occupation
[Verse 1]
Me and this baby
Gon' be up all night long
Walkin this wood flo'
'Till my man gets home
I'm at the front do'
I'm listening by the phone
But I'm gon' be here
With my make-up on
I'ts been a long time
Since my man been gone
But when he get here
You know I won't be gone
Because I love him
Love him strong (N'Dambi)
Me and this baby
Gon' be up all night long
[Chorus 2x]
Because they got the block on lock
The trunk stay locked
Glock on cock
The block stay hot
Block on lock
The trunk stay locked
Glock on cock
The block stay hot
Talking
What she say?
I said,
Block on lock
The trunk stay locked
Glock on cock
The block stay hot
[Verse 2]
Got a box of money
That I keep under my bed
But we don't spend it though
Might need it for more Yeyo
We need this money
Just in case we need to
Make a run
Gotta keep the clip in mama's gun
Or run...
We like to keep the car runnin'
We try to keep the bitch humin'
In case the sweeper boyz are comin'
[...] Read more
song performed by Erykah Badu
Added by Lucian Velea
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Would You Stop It? !
Would you let that love that's happening...
Be for you that fills a need?
Or would you stop it,
From not happening.
Would you stop it from not happening?
Would you let that love that's happening,
Be for you that fills a need?
Or would you block it,
From not happening.
Could you block it from not happening?
Conflicting feelings...
Bring on its own pain.
When one turns down what's needed
And they can't admit the needing.
Conflict of feelings,
Is...
What no one needs.
Not a conflict that has meaning,
With some feelings felt unseen.
When one turns down what is needed
And they can't admit the need.
Would you let that love that's happening...
Be for you that fills a need?
Or...
Would you block it,
From not happening?
Would you stop it from not happening,
If we both admit the need...
And let it happen.
Would you let that love that's happening...
Be for us what we need.
Or would you let that love that's happening...
Not to be seen.
Would you let that love that's happening...
Be for you that fills a need?
Or would you block it...
From not happening.
Or would you stop it from not happening.
Not to be ever seen.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Calling Dr. Love
You need my love baby, oh so bad
You're not the only one i've ever had
And if i say i wanna set you free
Don't you know you'll be in misery
They call me (dr. love)
They call me dr. love (calling dr. love)
I've got the cure you're thinkin' of (calling dr. love)
And even though i'm full of sin
In the end you'll let me in
You'll let me through, there's nothin' you can do
You need my lovin', don't you know it's true
So if you please get on your knees
There are no bills, there are no fees
Baby, i know what your problem is
The first step of the cure is a kiss
So call me (dr. love)
They call me dr. love (calling dr. love)
I am your doctor of love (calling dr. love), ha
They call me (dr. love), they call me dr. love (calling dr. love)
I've got the cure you're thinkin' of (calling dr. love)
Ooh, they call me (dr. love)
I am the doctor of love (calling dr. love)
I've got the cure you're thinkin' of (calling dr. love)
Ooh, they call me (dr. love)
I am your doctor of love (calling dr. love)
I've got the cure you're thinking of (calling dr. love), yeah
Yeah, they call me (dr. love)
They call me dr. love (calling dr. love)
I've got the cure you're thinkin' of (calling dr. love)
Love, love, love, (dr. love)
Love, love, love, love, (calling dr. love) love dr. love
(calling dr. love)
I've got the cure you're thinkin' (dr. love)
I've got the cure you're thinkin' (calling dr. love)
I've got the cure you're thinkin' of (calling dr. love)
They call me dr. love (dr. love)
They call me dr. love (calling dr. love)
I've got the cure
song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Remedy of Love
When Cupid read this title, straight he said,
'Wars, I perceive, against me will be made.'
But spare, oh Love! to tax thy poet so,
Who oft bath borne thy ensign 'gainst thy foe;
I am not he by whom thy mother bled,
When she to heaven on Mars his horses fled.
I oft, like other youths, thy flame did prove,
And if thou ask, what I do still? I love.
Nay, I have taught by art to keep Love's course,
And made that reason which before was force.
I seek not to betray thee, pretty boy,
Nor what I once have written to destroy.
If any love, and find his mistress kind,
Let him go on, and sail with his own wind;
But he that by his love is discontented,
To save his life my verses were invented.
Why should a lover kill himself? or why
Should any, with his own grief wounded, die?
Thou art a boy, to play becomes thee still,
Thy reign is soft; play then, and do not kill;
Or if thou'lt needs be vexing, then do this,
Make lovers meet by stealth, and steal a kiss
Make them to fear lest any overwatch them,
And tremble when they think some come to catch them;
And with those tears that lovers shed all night,
Be thou content, but do not kill outright.—
Love heard, and up his silver wings did heave,
And said, 'Write on; I freely give thee leave.'
Come then, all ye despised, that love endure,
I, that have felt the wounds, your love will cure;
But come at first, for if you make delay,
Your sickness will grow mortal by your stay:
The tree, which by delay is grown so big,
In the beginning was a tender twig;
That which at first was but a span in length,
Will, by delay, be rooted past men's strength.
Resist beginnings, medicines bring no curing
Where sickness is grown strong by long enduring.
When first thou seest a lass that likes thine eye,
Bend all thy present powers to descry
Whether her eye or carriage first would shew
If she be fit for love's delights or no:
Some will be easy, such an one elect;
But she that bears too grave and stern aspect,
Take heed of her, and make her not thy jewel,
Either she cannot love, or will be cruel.
If love assail thee there, betime take heed,
Those wounds are dangerous that inward bleed;
He that to-day cannot shake off love's sorrow,
Will certainly be more unapt to-morrow.
[...] Read more
poem by Francis Beaumont
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Metal Beat
Nobody knew me so I bought some time.
An hour or two with a friend of mine.
Somebody lied so I burned their soul.
Somebody screamed and the fire burned cold.
I cure things, sweet young things.
I take the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
I soothe the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
I take the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
Like someone walks on their grave.
I booked a small room in a cheap motel.
Somewhere to hide and a cure to sell.
I call it fashion, Ill make them bleed.
No one to love but a ghost to feed.
I was a puppet pulling my own strings.
I cant believe that I did such things.
I was a shadow but God forgives.
Now Im a priest and jesus lives.
- adlib -
I cure things, sweet young things.
I take the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
I take the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
I take the pain away.
I cure things, sweet young things.
Like someone walks on their grave.
How can I save you if you dont confess?
Kneel down bitch be truly blessed.
song performed by Gary Numan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cocteau Twins
I see them walking
You know theyre walking at night
Ohh in the dark you know
Theyre shining out so bright
Your sarky voices are gonna come on so near
As every picture becomes so clear
You
You come on so sharp
Yet be so nice
Tell me that youre so hot
But youre as cold as ice
There is no cure
Youre so blind cant you see?
There is no cure
Cant buy no immunity
There is no cure
So keep your evil from me
There is no cure.
They like to stay
Ooh come on
Come on and stay up so late
You gonna talk of all the things you just wanna hate
You wanna come on
Come on
And make me so mad
Inside your heart
I know it feels so bad
You
You come on so sharp
Yet be so nice
Tell me that youre so hot
But youre as cold as ice
There is no cure
Youre so blind cant you see?
There is no cure
Cant buy immunity
There is no cure
So keep your evil from me
There is no cure
Come on and do it
Just what to do it
Theyre going to do it
Just want to do it
There is no cure...
Lyrics : j kerr music : burchill/kerr (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by Simple Minds
Added by Lucian Velea
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No Cure
(originally called the cocteau twins)
I see them walking
You know theyre walking at night
Ohh in the dark you know
Theyre shining out so bright
Your sarky voices are gonna come on so near
As every picture becomes so clear
You
You come on so sharp
Yet be so nice
Tell me that youre so hot
But youre as cold as ice
There is no cure
Youre so blind cant you see?
There is no cure
Cant buy no immunity
There is no cure
So keep your evil from me
There is no cure.
They like to stay
Ooh come on
Come on and stay up so late
You gonna talk of all the things you just wanna hate
You wanna come on
Come on
And make me so mad
Inside your heart
I know it feels so bad
You
You come on so sharp
Yet be so nice
Tell me that youre so hot
But youre as cold as ice
There is no cure
Youre so blind cant you see?
There is no cure
Cant buy immunity
There is no cure
So keep your evil from me
There is no cure
Come on and do it
Just what to do it
Theyre going to do it
Just want to do it
There is no cure...
Lyrics : j kerr music : burchill/kerr (c) emi publishing ltd reproduced without permission
song performed by Simple Minds
Added by Lucian Velea
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Christmas In Tha Hood
[verse 1:]
Guess who rolled up? big s with the d rolled up
Girls jockin so the gs loc up, know what, santa aint playin that stuff
See, santa steady ridin on them scrubs for xmas
Sleigh stay flyin on them dubbs and switches
Hes vicious, gear on point and iced out
When santa hit the floor ya know its lights out
From the west to the east up north and down south it
Ghetto santa claus is bout it
3l dub so throw ya hands up for me
You know wassup, get yo dance on home cuz
[chorus:]
We bout to get the shhhhh started
We given you just what you wanted
From yo block to my block, we gonna keep it hot
Its xmas in the hood
Ghetto xmas lights flickin
Police aint even round trippin
From yo block to my block, we gonna make it hot
Its xmas in the hood
[break:]
Its going down fa sho
Ghetto santa claus is at the door
Ima get mine, you get yours
Xmas in the ghetto yo
[verse 2:]
Yo today, I gotta fat knot, in my stash box
And from this block to that block, they be like thats hot
Santa hit the jackpot, seen him in the rag-top
Flossin, tossin toys at us have-nots
3l dub and tell it best to from dirty jerz to l.e.s.
Youd never guess who I seen on the dance floor up in the mix
Santa claus for the cause with a thousand chicks
Im like nick, tell me what you gots for me, we in the hood where its good
Like it oughts to be, havin the time of my life too
I gots to be back home with my peeps thats the spot for me cuz
[repeat chorus]
[verse 3:]
Celebrating from the west to east coastin
I stay posted, this is for my people on the block with toastaz
My down home hotties hold it down you know this
The goody goodies got no time to notice
How we get down from my town to your town
L.a. to the bricks, v.a. and back down
We clownin while we downin egg nog by the case
50 aint trippin today about your case
Aint nobody stressin turkey and dressing
At the table with the fam thankin God for the blessings
Its all good from the grimey to the meadow
It aint nothing like xmas in the ghetto, holla back
song performed by 3LW
Added by Lucian Velea
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In The Middle
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Use your eyes to look up
Use your ears to hear
Walk up to the corner when the coast is clear
And wait
And wait
Until you see the light turn green
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Use your eyes to look up
Use your ears to hear
Walk up to the corner when the coast is clear
And wait
And wait
Until you see the light turn green
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
Don't cross the street in the middle in the middle
In the middle in the middle in the middle of the block
song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rokeby: Canto VI.
I.
The summer sun, whose early power
Was wont to gild Matilda's bower,
And rouse her with his matin ray
Her duteous orisons to pay,
That morning sun has three times seen
The flowers unfold on Rokeby green,
But sees no more the slumbers fly
From fair Matilda's hazel eye;
That morning sun has three times broke
On Rokeby's glades of elm and oak,
But, rising from their sylvan screen,
Marks no grey turrets' glance between.
A shapeless mass lie keep and tower,
That, hissing to the morning shower,
Can but with smouldering vapour pay
The early smile of summer day.
The peasant, to his labour bound,
Pauses to view the blacken'd mound,
Striving, amid the ruin'd space,
Each well-remember'd spot to trace.
That length of frail and fire-scorch'd wall
Once screen'd the hospitable hall;
When yonder broken arch was whole,
‘Twas there was dealt the weekly dole;
And where yon tottering columns nod,
The chapel sent the hymn to God.
So flits the world's uncertain span
Nor zeal for God, nor love for man,
Gives mortal monuments a date
Beyond the power of Time and Fate.
The towers must share the builder's doom;
Ruin is theirs, and his a tomb:
But better boon benignant Heaven
To Faith and Charity has given,
And bids the Christian hope sublime
Transcend the bounds of Fate and Time.
II.
Now the third night of summer came,
Since that which witness'd Rokeby's flame.
On Brignall cliffs and Scargill brake
The owlet's homilies awake,
The bittern scream'd from rush and flag,
The raven slumber'd on his crag,
Forth from his den the otter drew,
Grayling and trout their tyrant knew,
As between reed and sedge he peers,
With fierce round snout and sharpen'd ears
Or, prowling by the moonbeam cool,
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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The Writer's Dream
A writer wrote of the hearts of men, and he followed their tracks afar;
For his was a spirit that forced his pen to write of the things that are.
His heart grew tired of the truths he told, for his life was hard and grim;
His land seemed barren, its people cold—yet the world was dear to him;—
So he sailed away from the Streets of Strife, he travelled by land and sea,
In search of a people who lived a life as life in the world should be.
And he reached a spot where the scene was fair, with forest and field and wood,
And all things came with the seasons there, and each of its kind was good;
There were mountain-rivers and peaks of snow, there were lights of green and gold,
And echoing caves in the cliffs below, where a world-wide ocean rolled.
The lives of men from the wear of Change and the strife of the world were free—
For Steam was barred by the mountain-range and the rocks of the Open Sea.
And the last that were born of a noble race—when the page of the South was fair—
The last of the conquered dwelt in peace with the last of the victors there.
He saw their hearts with the author’s eyes who had written their ancient lore,
And he saw their lives as he’d dreamed of such—ah! many a year before.
And ‘I’ll write a book of these simple folk ere I to the world return,
‘And the cold who read shall be kind for these—and the wise who read shall learn.
‘Never again in a song of mine shall a jarring note be heard:
‘Never again shall a page or line be marred by a bitter word;
‘But love and laughter and kindly hours will the book I’ll write recall,
‘With chastening tears for the loss of one, and sighs for their sorrows all.
‘Old eyes will light with a kindly smile, and the young eyes dance with glee—
‘And the heart of the cynic will rest awhile for my simple folk and me.’
The lines ran on as he dipped his pen—ran true to his heart and ear—
Like the brighter pages of memory when every line is clear.
The pictures came and the pictures passed, like days of love and light—
He saw his chapters from first to last, and he thought it grand to write.
And the writer kissed his girlish wife, and he kissed her twice for pride:
‘’Tis a book of love, though a book of life! and a book you’ll read!’ he cried.
He was blind at first to each senseless slight (for shabby and poor he came)
From local ‘Fashion’ and mortgaged pride that scarce could sign its name.
What dreamer would dream of such paltry pride in a scene so fresh and fair?
But the local spirit intensified—with its pitiful shams—was there;
There were cliques wherever two houses stood (no rest for a family ghost!)
They hated each other as women could—but they hated the stranger most.
The writer wrote by day and night and he cried in the face of Fate—
‘I’ll cleave to my dream of life in spite of the cynical ghosts that wait.
‘’Tis the shyness born of their simple lives,’ he said to the paltry pride—
(The homely tongues of the simple wives ne’er erred on the generous side)—
‘They’ll prove me true and they’ll prove me kind ere the year of grace be passed,’
But the ignorant whisper of ‘axe to grind!’ went home to his heart at last.
The writer sat by his drift-wood fire three nights of the South-east gale,
His pen lay idle on pages vain, for his book was a fairy tale.
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Lawson
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III. The Other Half-Rome
Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!
There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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