Minnie And Mattie
Minnie and Mattie
And fat little May,
Out in the country,
Spending a day.
Such a bright day,
With the sun glowing,
And the trees half in leaf,
And the grass growing.
Pinky white pigling
Squeals through his snout,
Woolly white lambkin
Frisks all about.
Cluck! cluck! the nursing hen
Summons her folk, -
Ducklings all downy soft
Yellow as yolk.
Cluck! cluck! the mother hen
Summons her chickens
To peck the dainty bits
Found in her pickings.
Minnie and Mattie
And May carry posies,
Half of sweet violets,
Half of primroses.
Give the sun time enough,
Glowing and glowing,
He'll rouse the roses
And bring them blowing.
Don't wait for roses
Losing to-day,
O Minnie, Mattie,
And wise little May.
Violets and primroses
Blossom to-day
For Minnie and Mattie
And fat little May.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Related quotes
Fat
Your butt is wide, well mine is too
Just watch your mouth or Ill sit on you
The word is out, better treat me right
cause Im the king of cellulite
Ham on, ham on, ham on whole wheat, all right
My zippers bust, my buckles break
Im too much man for you to take
The pavement cracks when I fall down
Ive got more chins than chinatown
Well, Ive never used a phone booth
And Ive never seen my toes
When Im goin to the movies
I take up seven rows
Because Im fat, Im fat, come on
(fat, fat, really really fat)
You know Im fat, Im fat, you know it
(fat, fat, really really fat)
You know Im fat, Im fat, come on you know
(fat, fat, really really fat)
Dontcha call me pudgy, portly or stout
Just now tell me once again whos fat
When I walk out to get my mail
It measures on the richter scale
Down at the beach Im a lucky man
Im the only one who gets a tan
If I have one more pie a la mode
Im gonna need my own zip code
When youre only having seconds
Im having twenty-thirds
When I go to get my shoes shined
I gotta take their word
Because Im fat, Im fat, sha mone
(fat, fat, really really fat)
You know Im fat, Im fat, you know it
(fat, fat, really really fat)
You know Im fat, Im fat, you know it you know
(fat, fat, really really fat)
And my shadow weighs forty-two pounds
Lemme tell you once again whos fat
If you see me comin your way
Better give me plenty space
If I tell you that Im hungry
Then wont you feed my face
Because Im fat, Im fat, come on
(fat, fat, really really fat)
You know Im fat, Im fat, you know it
(fat, fat, really really fat)
You know Im fat, Im fat, you know it, you know
(fat, fat, really really fat)
Woo woo woo, when I sit around the house
[...] Read more
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Beowulf
LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
we have heard, and what honor the athelings won!
Oft Scyld the Scefing from squadroned foes,
from many a tribe, the mead-bench tore,
awing the earls. Since erst he lay
friendless, a foundling, fate repaid him:
for he waxed under welkin, in wealth he throve,
till before him the folk, both far and near,
who house by the whale-path, heard his mandate,
gave him gifts: a good king he!
To him an heir was afterward born,
a son in his halls, whom heaven sent
to favor the folk, feeling their woe
that erst they had lacked an earl for leader
so long a while; the Lord endowed him,
the Wielder of Wonder, with world's renown.
Famed was this Beowulf: far flew the boast of him,
son of Scyld, in the Scandian lands.
So becomes it a youth to quit him well
with his father's friends, by fee and gift,
that to aid him, aged, in after days,
come warriors willing, should war draw nigh,
liegemen loyal: by lauded deeds
shall an earl have honor in every clan.
Forth he fared at the fated moment,
sturdy Scyld to the shelter of God.
Then they bore him over to ocean's billow,
loving clansmen, as late he charged them,
while wielded words the winsome Scyld,
the leader beloved who long had ruled….
In the roadstead rocked a ring-dight vessel,
ice-flecked, outbound, atheling's barge:
there laid they down their darling lord
on the breast of the boat, the breaker-of-rings,
by the mast the mighty one. Many a treasure
fetched from far was freighted with him.
No ship have I known so nobly dight
with weapons of war and weeds of battle,
with breastplate and blade: on his bosom lay
a heaped hoard that hence should go
far o'er the flood with him floating away.
No less these loaded the lordly gifts,
thanes' huge treasure, than those had done
who in former time forth had sent him
sole on the seas, a suckling child.
High o'er his head they hoist the standard,
a gold-wove banner; let billows take him,
gave him to ocean. Grave were their spirits,
mournful their mood. No man is able
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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The Ballad of the White Horse
DEDICATION
Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night--
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?
Where seven sunken Englands
Lie buried one by one,
Why should one idle spade, I wonder,
Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder
To smoke and choke the sun?
In cloud of clay so cast to heaven
What shape shall man discern?
These lords may light the mystery
Of mastery or victory,
And these ride high in history,
But these shall not return.
Gored on the Norman gonfalon
The Golden Dragon died:
We shall not wake with ballad strings
The good time of the smaller things,
We shall not see the holy kings
Ride down by Severn side.
Stiff, strange, and quaintly coloured
As the broidery of Bayeux
The England of that dawn remains,
And this of Alfred and the Danes
Seems like the tales a whole tribe feigns
Too English to be true.
Of a good king on an island
That ruled once on a time;
And as he walked by an apple tree
There came green devils out of the sea
With sea-plants trailing heavily
And tracks of opal slime.
Yet Alfred is no fairy tale;
His days as our days ran,
He also looked forth for an hour
On peopled plains and skies that lower,
From those few windows in the tower
That is the head of a man.
But who shall look from Alfred's hood
[...] Read more
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Minnie The Moocher
(2pac)
I know this girl and her name is Minnie
Livin' in the projects didn't own a penny
Met her at a school dance so I took a chance
Walked her to the parkin' lot for a little romance
Got to my car, put the key in the ignition
turned on the slow jams, I was on a mission
I was catchin' wild things like the chicken pox
I was "J" and knockin' boots right down the socks
She was freaky and wild, oh man could I call it?
But when I dropped her off, she had stole my wallet
I couldn't quite believe that why a hoocher-coocher?
But that was my first experience with MINNIE THE MOOCHER!!
(2pac)
Minnie the Moocher was a legend on the block I'm from
A dream girl to many brothers, but true to none
Her reputation was enormous - a real go getter
And once a brother met her, he wanted to get with her
Maybe it was her smile, her personality or
the way she shook her shimmy or the clothes she wore
But whatever it was, Minnie the Moocher was an expert
Real heart-breaker, but never get hurt
She had this boyfriend, his name was Diamond
helpin' Minnie out with the little social climbin'
Met with Politicians, peace to many others
Suddenly and instantly, they became her lovers
She took the power that they possessed
And Minnie did it all without gettin' undressed
Minnie dissed Diamond sayin' that he could not live with her
But he wanted payment for the things he did for her
He grabbed the gun sittin' on the nightstand
Minnie held the bullets, put the pistol in her right hand
She was a legend to everyone who knew her
That's is my memory of Minnie the Moocher
(Ray Tyson)
Minnie had a boyfriend, a gambler
Addicted to poker, an alcoholic, a basshead, crack smoker
He took her to Harlem, and all around Chinatown
He bought some bass, a pipe a tape of hard-rap sounds
She was an addict, tired of the static and poverty
Sick of the same ghetto misery
See, Minnie was a young kid lookin' for excitement
Smokey was a hoodlum, headin' for inditement
Then one day their relationship stopped
when Smokey was killed by the M-I-C-Cops
Minnie was hurt, lost without a clue
To her, there was no chance of gettin' somebody new
So she walked home sadly, as bad as it seems
She cried herself to sleep to find the man of her dreams
(Ray Tyson)
[...] Read more
song performed by 2 Pac
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fat Lenny
Fat lennys gonna walk right into myself
Fat lennys gonna see myself (reflect it back on myself)
Fat lennys gonna lick the shellack off the window sill
And I say fat lennys gonna lick my head off
Stop by my friend fat lenny, I like him a lot (tell him about my buddy)
Hes fat lenny - what
Fat lennys gonna lick the shellack off the window sill
And I said now fat lennys gonna jump up and down (run back down the hill)
And I said now fat lenny knows what he is (to be fat lenny) cause he is fat lenny (hes my buddy)
Hes fat lenny (I know what he is to be fat lenny) cause hes my friend fat lenny
I like fat lenny, I like cause hes my friend fat lenny - fat lenny
What - you know - hes fat lenny - you know
You know hes fat lenny
Fat lennys gonna lick my brain today
Fat lenny doesnt like me anyway
Fat lenny said (my friend) today
Fat lenny
Fat lenny, fat lenny,
Fat lenny, fat lenny, fat fat fat lenny
Fat lenny, fat lenny
Fat lenny, fat lenny, fat fat fat lenny
song performed by Ween
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete
I.
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.
And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.
'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.
We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .
Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.
Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.
Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.
II.
[...] Read more
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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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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Seasonable Retour-Knell
SEASONABLE RETOUR KNELL
Variations on a theme...
SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
Author notes
A mirrored Retourne may not only be read either from first line to last or from last to first as seen in the mirrors, but also by inverting the first and second phrase of each line, either rhyming AAAA or ABAB for each verse. thus the number of variations could be multiplied several times.- two variations on the theme have been included here but could have been extended as in SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS robi03_0069_robi03_0000
In respect of SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
This composition has sought to explore linguistic potential. Notes and the initial version are placed before rather than after the poem.
Six variations on a theme have been selected out of a significant number of mathematical possibilities using THE SAME TEXT and a reverse mirror for each version. Mirrors repeat the seasons with the lines in reverse order.
For the second roll the first four syllables of each line are reversed, and sense is retained both in the normal order of seasons and the reversed order as well... The 3rd and 4th variations offer ABAB rhyme schemes retaining the original text. The 5th and 6th variations modify the text into rhyming couplets.
Given the linguistical structure of this symphonic composition the score could be read in inversing each and every line and each and every hemistitch. There are minor punctuation differences between versions.
One could probably attain sonnet status for each of the four seasons and through partioning in 3 groups of 4 syllables extend the possibilites ad vitam.
Seasonable Round Robin Roll Reversals
robi03_0069_robi03_0000 QXX_DNZ
Seasonable Retour-Knell
robi03_0070_robi03_0069 QXX_NXX
26 March 1975 rewritten 20070123
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllllllllllll
For previous version see below
_______________________________________
SPRING SUMMER
Life is at ease Young lovers long
Land under plough; To hold their dear;
Whispering trees, Dewdrops among,
Answering cow. Bold, know no fear.
Blossom, the bees, Life full of song,
Burgeoning bough; Cloudless and clear;
Soft-scented breeze, Days fair and long,
Spring warms life now. Summer sends cheer.
AUTUMN WINTER
Each leaf decays, Harvested sheaves
Each life must bow; And honeyed hives;
Our salad days Trees stripped of leaves,
Are ending now. Jack Frost has knives.
Fruit heavy lays Time, Prince of thieves,
Bending the bough, - Onward he drives,
[...] Read more
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Old Macdonald
(words & music by randy starr)
Old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some chicks, ee-i-ee-i-o
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
Loud as they could be
And when those chicks got out of line
Chicken fricasse
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
Loud as they could be
And when those chicks got out of line
Chicken fricasse
Well, old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some cows, ee-i-ee-i-o
With a moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
Cattle everywhere
And when those cows got out of line
Hamburger, medium rare
With a moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
Cattle everywhere
And when those cows got out of line
Hamburger, medium rare
Ohh, well, old macdonald had a farm, ee-i-ee-i-o
And on that farm he had some pigs, ee-i-ee-i-o
With an oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
Pigs everywhere in sight
And when those pigs got out of line
Pork and beans at night
With an oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
Pigs everywhere in sight
And when those pigs got out of line
Pork and beans at night
Well Im goona have a farm one day, ee-i-e-i-o
And Ill do things mcdonalds way, ee-i-e-i-o
With a cluck, cluck here, a cluck, cluck there
A moo, moo here, a moo, moo there
An oink, oink here, an oink, oink there
And I can promise you
If those animals ever get out of line
Well have a mulligan stew
How about you?
song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Minnie And Santa
(Cyndi Lauper, Jan Pulsford)
Worked with a woman named Minnie
One Christmas eve long ago
When I asked "What you doing this evening ?"
Minnie took on a seasonal glow
She said she'd be waiting for Santa
She'd be wearing a bright red bow
Chorus:
Minnie And Santa
Minnie And Santa
What they're up to only
Heaven knows she wrote on a card
"Don't take it so hard we're headed for the North Pole"
Now Minnie could not be persuaded
That Santa just did not exist
She swore if she put up some mistletoe
Santa'd come give her a kiss
And there where she'd hung up her stockings
All in their silky, soft, sheen
She'd be laying in wait on a bear skin rug
Where the cookies and milk could be seen
Chorus:
Minnie And Santa
Minnie And Santa
What they're up to only
Heaven knows she wrote on a card
"Don't take it so hard we're headed for the North Pole"
(musical interlude)
Now Minnie was older and wiser
Like a dear old Auntie to me
But the night that she ran off with Santa
Was a real epiphany
Chorus:
Minnie And Santa
Minnie And Santa
What they're up to only
Heaven knows she wrote on a card
"Don't take it so hard we're headed for the North Pole"
Next Xmas I passed by the bakery
Staring out from on top of a cake
Was jolly old Santa with a big silly grin
And a gal in silk stockings and lace
Oh, Minnie and Santa...
song performed by Cyndi Lauper
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Loves of the Angels
'Twas when the world was in its prime,
When the fresh stars had just begun
Their race of glory and young Time
Told his first birth-days by the sun;
When in the light of Nature's dawn
Rejoicing, men and angels met
On the high hill and sunny lawn,-
Ere sorrow came or Sin had drawn
'Twixt man and heaven her curtain yet!
When earth lay nearer to the skies
Than in these days of crime and woe,
And mortals saw without surprise
In the mid-air angelic eyes
Gazing upon this world below.
Alas! that Passion should profane
Even then the morning of the earth!
That, sadder still, the fatal stain
Should fall on hearts of heavenly birth-
And that from Woman's love should fall
So dark a stain, most sad of all!
One evening, in that primal hour,
On a hill's side where hung the ray
Of sunset brightening rill and bower,
Three noble youths conversing lay;
And, as they lookt from time to time
To the far sky where Daylight furled
His radiant wing, their brows sublime
Bespoke them of that distant world-
Spirits who once in brotherhood
Of faith and bliss near ALLA stood,
And o'er whose cheeks full oft had blown
The wind that breathes from ALLA'S throne,
Creatures of light such as still play,
Like motes in sunshine, round the Lord,
And thro' their infinite array
Transmit each moment, night and day,
The echo of His luminous word!
Of Heaven they spoke and, still more oft,
Of the bright eyes that charmed them thence;
Till yielding gradual to the soft
And balmy evening's influence-
The silent breathing of the flowers-
The melting light that beamed above,
As on their first, fond, erring hours,-
Each told the story of his love,
The history of that hour unblest,
When like a bird from its high nest
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Moore
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Aunt Mattie's Quilt
Aunt Mattie bent a thousand times down the long black rows
Then battled with the angry weeds so little seeds could grow
Come summer Mattie pulled the snow from cruel and cutting bolls
She was patient pale and slender and was only eight years old
Round 'n round the spinning wheel beneath Aunt Mattie's boot
She recalled the soil and cotton seeds and summer's hopeful shoots
Two winters spun out summer's threads in rich and creamy folds
And she had a bolt of cotton cloth when she turned ten years old
If we bend and plant the seeds and tame the wicked weeds
If we let the sun and rain assist and simplify our needs
If we follow in the barefoot path of one persistent girl
We'll throw a healing quilt across an ever ailing world
Indigo and lavender made up Aunt Mattie's sky
Remembering her childhood days she made the rustic dye
The hour before the day would end it fed young Mattie's dream
She made indigo and lavender when she turned just fourteen
If we bend and plant the seeds and tame the wicked weeds
If we let the sun and rain assist and simplify our needs
If we follow in the barefoot path of one persistent girl
We'll throw a healing quilt across an ever ailing world
Aunt Mattie bends a thousand times down each patchwork row
Piece by piece and stitch by stitch in fading candle glow
The valley of the shadow cannot call her from her seams
Until finishing her lifetime's work she dies at seventeen
If we bend and plant the seeds and tame the wicked weeds
If we let the sun and rain assist and simplify our needs
If we follow in the barefoot path of one persistent girl
We'll throw a healing quilt across an ever ailing world
song performed by Dixie Chicks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
[...] Read more
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Used to be Hero
Patricia,
Do you know? Do you remember? Things from long ago? Do you know that you used to be my hero? The person I thought I could always talk to? Do you remember when I called you mom?
I wish this letter was addressed to her; the woman I called mom; my hero. I used to think about asking dad where did you go; then I realized he was never there. So instead I realized the appropriate question for him is 'where have you been'. It was my hero who left me. It is you I must ask 'where did you go'. You used to be my hero.
Once upon a time,
You lived in Newell; Dad lived in Nisland. Matt and I we were at your house for the night. Mattie slept in our bunk in the back room. I slept on the floor in the livingroom. To raised voices I awoke. Daddy was drunk and you were fighting. You told him to leave and he grabbed Mattie. He took him out to his truck and you locked him out. To the door I ran screaming for Mattie, scared for my little brother. Not caring for my safety. You locked the door and pulled me back. Daddy soon was at the door screaming and pounding at the door for you to let him get his stuff. You ignored his rants and raves and called the police. I watched from the door as they arrived and Daddy, he put up a fight. The cops asked once, they asked twice, soon he was on the ground and put in vice. On his wrists they slapped the cuffs and dear little mattie was brought back to us. In the back of the police car Daddy went.
The End
That night you were my hero. You kept Mattie and me safe from Daddy when he was drunk. I only have one question for you now. Where did that Mommy go? My hero.....the person who was supposed to teach me everything in life. Your life seemed to fall apart in front of my eyes, but I did not see your pain. Only the pain inflicted on Mattie and me. I wish you could still be my hero, but that was lost a long time ago.
.
poem by Cathy VanDorn
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The Georgics
GEORGIC I
What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;
What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof
Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-
Such are my themes.
O universal lights
Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year
Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild,
If by your bounty holpen earth once changed
Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear,
And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift,
The draughts of Achelous; and ye Fauns
To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Fauns
And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing.
And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first
Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke,
Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom
Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes,
The fertile brakes of Ceos; and clothed in power,
Thy native forest and Lycean lawns,
Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love
Of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear
And help, O lord of Tegea! And thou, too,
Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung;
And boy-discoverer of the curved plough;
And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn,
Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses,
Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse
The tender unsown increase, and from heaven
Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain:
And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet
What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon,
Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will,
Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge,
That so the mighty world may welcome thee
Lord of her increase, master of her times,
Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow,
Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come,
Sole dread of seamen, till far Thule bow
Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son
With all her waves for dower; or as a star
Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer,
Where 'twixt the Maid and those pursuing Claws
A space is opening; see! red Scorpio's self
His arms draws in, yea, and hath left thee more
Than thy full meed of heaven: be what thou wilt-
For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king,
[...] Read more
Tannhauser
The Landgrave Hermann held a gathering
Of minstrels, minnesingers, troubadours,
At Wartburg in his palace, and the knight,
Sir Tannhauser of France, the greatest bard,
Inspired with heavenly visions, and endowed
With apprehension and rare utterance
Of noble music, fared in thoughtful wise
Across the Horsel meadows. Full of light,
And large repose, the peaceful valley lay,
In the late splendor of the afternoon,
And level sunbeams lit the serious face
Of the young knight, who journeyed to the west,
Towards the precipitous and rugged cliffs,
Scarred, grim, and torn with savage rifts and chasms,
That in the distance loomed as soft and fair
And purple as their shadows on the grass.
The tinkling chimes ran out athwart the air,
Proclaiming sunset, ushering evening in,
Although the sky yet glowed with yellow light.
The ploughboy, ere he led his cattle home,
In the near meadow, reverently knelt,
And doffed his cap, and duly crossed his breast,
Whispering his 'Ave Mary,' as he heard
The pealing vesper-bell. But still the knight,
Unmindful of the sacred hour announced,
Disdainful or unconscious, held his course.
'Would that I also, like yon stupid wight,
Could kneel and hail the Virgin and believe!'
He murmured bitterly beneath his breath.
'Were I a pagan, riding to contend
For the Olympic wreath, O with what zeal,
What fire of inspiration, would I sing
The praises of the gods! How may my lyre
Glorify these whose very life I doubt?
The world is governed by one cruel God,
Who brings a sword, not peace. A pallid Christ,
Unnatural, perfect, and a virgin cold,
They give us for a heaven of living gods,
Beautiful, loving, whose mere names were song;
A creed of suffering and despair, walled in
On every side by brazen boundaries,
That limit the soul's vision and her hope
To a red hell or and unpeopled heaven.
Yea, I am lost already,-even now
Am doomed to flaming torture for my thoughts.
O gods! O gods! where shall my soul find peace?'
He raised his wan face to the faded skies,
Now shadowing into twilight; no response
Came from their sunless heights; no miracle,
As in the ancient days of answering gods.
[...] Read more
poem by Emma Lazarus
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Narrative And Dramatic The Wanderings Of Oisin
BOOK I
S. Patrick. You who are bent, and bald, and blind,
With a heavy heart and a wandering mind,
Have known three centuries, poets sing,
Of dalliance with a demon thing.
Oisin. Sad to remember, sick with years,
The swift innumerable spears,
The horsemen with their floating hair,
And bowls of barley, honey, and wine,
Those merry couples dancing in tune,
And the white body that lay by mine;
But the tale, though words be lighter than air.
Must live to be old like the wandering moon.
Caoilte, and Conan, and Finn were there,
When we followed a deer with our baying hounds.
With Bran, Sceolan, and Lomair,
And passing the Firbolgs' burial-motmds,
Came to the cairn-heaped grassy hill
Where passionate Maeve is stony-still;
And found On the dove-grey edge of the sea
A pearl-pale, high-born lady, who rode
On a horse with bridle of findrinny;
And like a sunset were her lips,
A stormy sunset on doomed ships;
A citron colour gloomed in her hair,
But down to her feet white vesture flowed,
And with the glimmering crimson glowed
Of many a figured embroidery;
And it was bound with a pearl-pale shell
That wavered like the summer streams,
As her soft bosom rose and fell.
S. Patrick. You are still wrecked among heathen dreams.
Oisin. 'Why do you wind no horn?' she said
'And every hero droop his head?
The hornless deer is not more sad
That many a peaceful moment had,
More sleek than any granary mouse,
In his own leafy forest house
Among the waving fields of fern:
The hunting of heroes should be glad.'
'O pleasant woman,' answered Finn,
'We think on Oscar's pencilled urn,
And on the heroes lying slain
[...] Read more
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Tamar
I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.
The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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MINNIE & WILLIE (A Tale of Two Lovers)
Gather-round folks, hear this grand tale
Of how two unlikely lovers did meet
Of Minnie Minnow and Willie Whale
A great love that knew no defeat
She swam in a school, him in a pod
They met one fine day by a reef
Willie’s pod readied to migrate abroad
His great eye caught a glimpse ever brief
Minnie was a vision of grace and style
She smiled, splayed her delicate fins
It was young Willie she’d soon beguile
This is where our love story begins;
Love struck Willie come a courtin one day
Seaweed bouquet tucked under a fluke
Asked, Schoolmarm if Minnie could play
Willie hoped he’d not get rebuked
“Suppose its alright” said Schoolmarm
“Please get her back here by noon”
Minnie was taken by Willie’s naive charm
Clearly this mammal was no one’s buffoon
Fin-in-fluke they swam to a nearby lagoon
Began then a most beautiful romance
A sweet kiss they shared that forenoon
Destined were they to a lifelong dance
In time Minnie and Willie came of age
On bended tail Willie proposed
Lo! Both sets of parents flew into a rage
Knew not of the marriage presupposed
Panicked...Minnie burst into tears
Had no idea her parents would mind
Or that they might interfere
Insisting she only marry her kind
Pod asked Elder Whale who promptly said no
Losing hope young lovers went into despair
Till Willie grabbed Minnie, said “We’ll elope! ”
“Losing you Minnie I just could not bear”
Their journey began with a swim North to South
Migrating to warm waters of Captain Cook Bay
When Minnie tired she’d ride in Willie’s mouth
Willie assured, ”Hawaii’s not that far away”
[...] Read more
poem by Ray Lucero
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Hen laid eggs
Hen laid an eggs, between legs two,
No small, no big but not in zoo,
Ran after those who made slight dig,
Dog, cat and crow planned very big,
Hen laid eggs……
Hen becomes heroin when find egg,
With big noise run after with one leg,
Even scare pig and allow near no body,
How to protect eggs that is only worry?
Hen laid eggs……
Make no fun when she may have kitten,
Beautiful scene seen when run in garden,
Children love to see and catch with fun,
Prefer little kitten and make gentle run,
Hen laid eggs……
Small kids ask, what will be her task?
How to protect them, by putting a mask?
Often they look at them and draw on page,
night take them all to stay in simple cage,
hen laid eggs……
Papa and mummy, where from kittens came?
Who laid an eggs and how she played game?
Simply they observe and ask funny questions
Why kitten become cock and not small hen?
Hen laid eggs....
What a lovely fun? I couldn’t answer one?
It was more confusing than work undone?
Answered few more questions but not in full,
Avoided by telling you may get it from school
Hen laid eggs.....
How to answer questions? When faced many?
Simple they may look but nature seems funny,
better not answer question any more,
It may not be ending but more and feel bore,
Hen laid eggs......
It is not the hen but cock steals show,
People get irritation when shouts crow,
Kittens and children happy and steadily grow,
Cock serve as alarm when mighty voice blow
Hen laid eggs......
Cocks find preference and first depart,
When runs after hen even looks smart,
[...] Read more
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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