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Jane Krakowski

I realised I should try harder to be an actress because I'd never make it as a waitress.

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I Don't Know Why I Should Try To Write A Poem Now

I don't know why
I should try to write
A poem now-
There will be other times
When the Metaphors
I ordinarily do not have
Flow not easily in me
Like water lava
Like blood- thinned by aspirin-

All I have to do is
Keep reading enough poetry of others
And exotic metaphors
Will come to me
As if I were another person's voice
And nothing in myself
Real as my own.

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Try Harder

What is normal in marriage
No one prepares a couple for this great endeavor
This first year has had its ups and downs
Lots of arguing
Loss of attraction
And even some disconnecting emotionally
It would be easy to see why so many people
End up in divorce
Marriage has not been that movie romance
I use to dream about
Oh, it has many good points
Like coming home to someone that cares
But that often quickly gets lost in
The shuffle of life
Example - “Honey, I’m home
Wife – “did you bring in the trash and get the mail”
See how that warm greeting could set the tone
The tone for the rest of the evening
My hope is that marriage (with a lot of work)
Will evolve into a story book romance
That arguing does not dominate my entire marriage
That we may find that closer attraction
Till then I will just have to try harder

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Dadde says

Dadde says I need to grow up,
Dadde says I need to be tuffer.

Momme says dadde is rong,
Momme says I shuld take my own pase.

Dadde says it is a meen wurld,
Dadde says beeng touff will help.

Momme says I am purfect the way I am,
Momme says that grooing is diffrent for evryone.

Daddy says that fiting will make you toughr,
Daddy says that educashun will not help.

Mommy says that educashun will help,
Mommy says that fiting will not make you anytheng.

Daddy says that its time I get in a fight.

Mommy says I should get smarter not tougher.

Dad says I should I should be normal,
Dad says I should watch t.v. all day.

Mom says I should play outside,
Mom says I should be whatever I want.

Dad says I should have fought harder.

Mom said nothing.

Dad says that I am stupid,
Dad says I should have paid attention in class.

Mom says I am not stupid,
Mom says I should try harder.

Mom says I am smart,
Mom says I am growing well.

Dad says I am growing weak,
Dad still says I am stupid.

Mom says, though I am leaving, I can always come back.

Dad said nothing.

Mommy said goodbye...

Daddy was never there to say hello...

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At the End of My Tether

I'd thought a lot about suicide,
Something was wrong with me inside
And something told me it was time I died.
I wondered if it would help to pray
So I knelt at my bed at the end of the day
But the voices in my head wouldn't go away.
It was obvious to me I'd run out of luck,
And reasons for living had started to s*ck,
I could even try harder but what the f*ck?
I'd never had a chance to prove my worth,
I'd been crippled and tortured since my birth,
I was feeling a stranger on planet Earth.
I was no longer ready to believe the lie
That someone could tell me the reason why
Lambs go to the slaughter and the innocent die!

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The Fountain of Tears

If you go over desert and mountain,
Far into the country of Sorrow,
To-day and to-night and to-morrow,
And maybe for months and for years;
You shall come with a heart that is bursting
For trouble and toiling and thirsting,
You shall certainly come to the fountain
At length,—to the Fountain of Tears.

Very peaceful the place is, and solely
For piteous lamenting and sighing,
And those who come living or dying
Alike from their hopes and their fears;
Full of cypress-like shadows the place is,
And statues that cover their faces:
But out of the gloom springs the holy
And beautiful Fountain of Tears.

And it flows and it flows with a motion
So gentle and lovely and listless,
And murmurs a tune so resistless
To him who hath suffer'd and hears—
You shall surely—without a word spoken,
Kneel down there and know your heart broken,
And yield to the long-curb'd emotion
That day by the Fountain of Tears.

For it grows and it grows, as though leaping
Up higher the more one is thinking;
And ever its tunes go on sinking
More poignantly into the ears:
Yea, so blessèd and good seems that fountain,
Reach'd after dry desert and mountain,
You shall fall down at length in your weeping
And bathe your sad face in the tears.

Then alas! while you lie there a season
And sob between living and dying,
And give up the land you were trying
To find 'mid your hopes and your fears;
—O the world shall come up and pass o'er you,
Strong men shall not stay to care for you,
Nor wonder indeed for what reason
Your way should seem harder than theirs.

But perhaps, while you lie, never lifting
Your cheek from the wet leaves it presses,
Nor caring to raise your wet tresses
And look how the cold world appears—
O perhaps the mere silences round you—
All things in that place Grief hath found you—
Yea, e'en to the clouds o'er you drifting,
May soothe you somewhat through your tears.

You may feel, when a falling leaf brushes
Your face, as though some one had kiss'd you,
Or think at least some one who miss'd you
Had sent you a thought,—if that cheers;
Or a bird's little song, faint and broken,
May pass for a tender word spoken:
—Enough, while around you there rushes
That life-drowning torrent of tears.

And the tears shall flow faster and faster,
Brim over and baffle resistance,
And roll down blear'd roads to each distance
Of past desolation and years;
Till they cover the place of each sorrow,
And leave you no past and no morrow:
For what man is able to master
And stem the great Fountain of Tears?

But the floods and the tears meet and gather;
The sound of them all grows like thunder:
—O into what bosom, I wonder,
Is pour'd the whole sorrow of years?
For Eternity only seems keeping
Account of the great human weeping:
May God, then, the Maker and Father—
May He find a place for the tears!

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Good Life

The good life, 1 day thats what Ill be livin
Fantasy never hurt nobody, whatever chills the illin
When the everyday gets on your last 1, give it up and go
2 the place in everyones future, the good life - 1 day well know
(good life)
Everyday after school, u know where 2 find this brother
Uptown at every movie show, outta my life 2 another
That was the only thing that I wanted 2 do, that was my drug of choice
Left all the funny smellin cigarettes 2 the american boys
La dolce vita was the knob that turned me on
Marcello mastroianni italian mac comin on strong
He had all the honies, the kind from the magazines
Small waist, big - right!... biggest ones uve ever seen
The good life (good life), 1 day thats what Ill be livin
Fantasy never hurt nobody, whatever chills the illin
When the everyday gets on your last 1, give it up and go
2 the place in everyones future, the good life - 1 day well know
1 day well know
(good life)
(good life)
Mama worked all night, went 2 school by day
Wanted 2 get her master degree so she could make a better way
Set examples 4 her babies that well never forget
Thats where I guess my spirit comes from, eternally never met
Oh, the good life (good life), 1 day thats what Ill be livin
Fantasy never hurt nobody, whatever chills the illin (ooh, good life)
When the everyday gets on your last 1, give it up and go
2 the place in everyones future, (the good life)
The good life - 1 day well know
(good life)
Good life
Good life
Good life (good life)
Hey, hey, hey!
Peace 2 the mother that knows
That the babies are the key 2 the world, key 2 the world
The battles of the future will be won
By those who teach those baby boys and girls
This is our plea 2 the brothers
Who are tired of the barely gettin by, instead u should try
2 see your future map out your steps
And make sure no 1 dies
The good life (good), 1 day thats what Ill be livin
Fantasy never hurt nobody, whatever chills the illin
(1 drop of blood aint worth forsaking your dreams)
When the everyday gets on your last 1, give it up and go
(music, sports, fashion, whatever)
2 the place in everyones future, the good life - 1 day well know
(consolidate, think ahead, and cream, cream)
The good life (good life), 1 day thats what Ill be livin
Fantasy never hurt nobody, whatever chills the illin (hey yeah, good life)
When the everyday gets on your last 1, give it up and go (good life, oh)
2 the place in everyones future, the good life - 1 day well know
New power generation (good life)
Tryin 2 lead the good life (1 day well know)
Oh yeah, oh lord
Good life (good life)
The good life
Good life (good life)
The good life (good life)
Good life (good life), 1 day thats what Ill be livin
Fantasy never hurt nobody, whatever chills the illin
When the everyday gets on your last 1, give it up and go
2 the place in everyones future, the good life - 1 day well know
(good life)
Good life {x4}
Good life (good life)
Good life (good life)
The good life (good life) {x3}
1 day well know!

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Racism is not a crime, but it should be

People from different places come to America
They have different backgrounds and have different skin
But they are in America
They should be accepted, even if their from Berlin

And yet we make fun of how they look
And call them names by their background
Because it’s a little harder for them to read a book
And we look down on them and frown

Racism is a weird thing
Sometimes we don’t even know what it is
Like Mr. King
And that dream of his

We shouldn’t judge people
At any cost
Because their still people
Just a little lost

So the next time you see someone
Being made fun of because of their color or background
Don’t keep walking and look down
Help and try to fix what has just been done

People are people
And they have feelings too
People are people
Just like you

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You should examine yourself daily. If you find faults, you should correct them. When you find none, you should try even harder.

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I Try...

Try and Try
day & night
Try & Try
without respite

I try so hard
to be the One
I try so hard
to break this facade

All I want
is to be me
yet I yearn for
what you want me to be

What you want
may be right
But thats all it is
& without respite

I need happiness
& I need you
So try I must
without A fuss

Try & Try
night & day
Try & Try
in everyway

Though now I try harder
to be what is right
Now I try harder
with all my might

My future & happiness
is in you
My life & love
is yours too

Try & Try
all the time
Try & Try
till the end of time

20080203©

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An Apology Prayer

My Dear Lord above I’m sorry
that I haven’t been giving you the time I should
and it seems that the only time I speak to you
is when I have a crisis, or I don’t feel so good.

You often give me help and consolation,
and when you do I give thanks straight away,
but when my life is without ills and troubles
my conscience tells me I should still thank you everyday.

So Dear Lord I will try harder to find the time to pray to you
and give thanks for all the days that pass.
So thank you Lord God above for giving me this
and all my days, and I’ll pray as though it’s my last.

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You Will 'Never' Be A Good Liar

I admit...
I use to wish to have capabilities to lie,
And get away with it.
But I was told when much younger,
A liar I could never be.
Because in the telling of one,
I was not suppose to apologize.
Then while trembling with my eyes in tears,
Admit something I did...
BEFORE it was discovered,
I couldn't lie effectively.

'Boy?
What is the matter with you? '

I was going to lie.

'Lie?
About what? '

About taking out the garbage.

'Well...
Did you take it out? '

Yes.

'Then 'why' are you crying? '

I didn't want you to punish me.
If I lied about taking it out,
And I really didn't.
But...
I decided that I should.

'You will 'never' be a good liar.'

If I don't...
Will that make you mad at me?
Should I try harder?

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Try Me One More Time

I took away your reality
I took away all your memories
I gave up all the bliss that was made for you
And now I'm sad cause I missed the time
And now I'm sad cause my words were dying
Now that I'm grown and alone
I see my own silent crime
Tonight I drown in pain and beg you please
Just try me one more time
Chorus:
Try me one more time
It takes a mile or a miracle
It takes some tears just for me to tell
It takes a year and fear
To open up my soul for you
With you I'm blessed and you are divine
You turned my life from water to wine
You wame my sleep, are my sun to me
That I need to shine
So I regret, will not forget what I did
So try me one more time
Chorus:
Can't tell you why I could do it
Can't tell you why you should face it
Can't tell you why I could lose it
Can't tell you why you should try it
Why - why - why - just can't tell you why
But please, but please, but please, but please...
Chorus:

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Only Love Can Conquer All

(narada michael walden/s.j.dakota/p.glass)
They tell us its better
That people should stay with their own kind
Divided by colour, afraid to be hurt by the other (yeah)
What if we try talking
Well see were the same on the inside
Cant let it, cant let hatred rule
Let your love in
Only love can conquer all
Only love can break down the walls
Only love can conquer all
Only love (only love)
Only love (only love)
Oh yeah
The wheel keeps, keeps on turning
We pass all our fears to our children
Rule the playground
The lines are all drawn into colours (yes)
What if we, we try harder
What if we reach out to each other (to each other)
Cant let it, cant let hatred rule
Let your love in
Let your love in
Only love can conquer all
Only love can break down the walls
Only love can conquer all
Only love (only love)
Only love (only love)
Oh yeah
Only love can conquer all
Only love can break down these walls
Only love can conquer all
Only love (only love)
Only love (only love)
Only love
(only love)
Only love
(only love)
Only only only
Only love
(only love)
Only love
(only love)
Only love

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Your Majesty

Your majesty, if you will
I realize that I am not worthy
Of licking the slime from your shoes
But I would that I could

Your majesty, don't you see
You're worth nothing to me
Though the world may worship you
You're simply a chauvinistic pig

Your majesty, we can tell
That you hold yourself in high opinion
You find no self faults
And you are self-centered

Your majesty, we realize
That you are blind to your own faults
And you are blind to the trials of others
You believe yourself to be the center of the Universe

Your majesty, anyone is better
Than you, in your self-possessed vanity
And the world realizes that I
Am more beautiful than you

Your majesty, none would ever
Get in line to be your queen
Because you are ruthless, selfish, vain
And none could be uglier than you

Your majesty, we all hope
That you realize the err of your ways soon
Because if you don't, we will revolt against you
And I shall be placed upon the throne over you

Your majesty, start to change
For the people around you change
And increasingly learn to hate you
So try harder to make others happy

Your majesty, instead
Of revelling in your own "beauty"
You should be striving to make the world more beautiful
Instead of making it an even uglier mess that we are left to clean up
Thank you, your majesty

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Someone You Should Know

Who do you think you are?
You're talking so loud
You bury the sound
Of your heart that's singing out

And where do you want to be?
On top of the world
But you're just a girl
Who forgot what it's like to dream

Leave everything behind
But you're so tired
One day you might open up your eyes and find

[Chorus]
What you've got isn't what you wanted
What you need just happens to be
What you've got isn't what you wanted
What you need just happens to be
Someone you should know

You try to hide between the lines
Of a story never told
But I've seen you run away
You're afraid of the fall
The weight of it all is too much

But you might change your mind
If you'd stand up one day
You might open up your eyes and find

[Chorus]

La da da da... [x5]

How do you keep it up?
It's all just a front
A dangerous stunt
You're gonna come down soon enough

Open up your eyes
Don't be scared
You might find you had it all the time

What you've got is what you wanted
What you need just happens to be
What you tried so hard to hide
It was there between the lines
Of the story never told
Of someone you should know

What you've got is what you wanted
What you need just happens to be
Someone you should know
What you've got is what you wanted
What you need just happens to be
Someone you should know

[repeat till fade]

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Try Me, I Know We Can Make It

Spoken:
I love everybody alright alright
You know it's a very very special day today
Because what a night tonight
Business is out
You're 'round
I'm here
Anything could happen
It's a magical mystical night
And you know you're also on a live recording
I want you to try me
'cause i know we can make it
Come on now yeah
Try me, try me, try me, try me
Just one time
Try me, try me, try me, try me
Just one time
Now baby don't you think you should
Try me, try me, try me, try me
Just one time
Try me, try me, try me, try me
Just one time
Now, baby don't you think you should
I just wanna feel your body close to mine
I just wanna share your love
And baby all the time
Try me, try me, try me, try me
Just one time
Try me, try me, try me, try me
Just one time
Try me, try me, try me, try me
Just one time
Try me, try me, try me, try me
Just one time
Try me...
Oh try me baby you try me...
I want you to try me...
I know, i know, i know, i know, i know
I know, i know, i know, i know, i know
I know, i know, i know, we can make it
I know, i know, i know, i know, i know
I know, i know, i know, i know, i know
I know, i know, i know, we can make it
You've got an easy way to make me cry
My love for you
And i can tell by the hungry way you look
That you know just what to do
We can make it
We can make it
We can make it
Try me i know we can make it
I know if we try
Try me i know we can make it
I know if we try...
I love you la you really are
You're the greatest!

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Auntie Emmaline for Friend Leslie

Auntie Emmaline.

My cousin Peter was a prig.
A precious little Mamas boy.
Who thought it rather infra dig
a little mischief to enjoy.

He combed his hair and shined his shoes
and was polite to every one
I was quite pleased to hear the news
that he had just up and gone.

To live with a girl, Elsie Ma.
Who was no better than a whore.
It made me glad I have to say.
He’s not my rival anymore.

Nobody says that should I should be
just like Peter. Dear me no.
The rotten apple on the tree.
But what the family do not know.

Is that I arranged for them to meet.
I knew she would lead him astray
He had no chance at all poor Pete.
I don’t regret it in any way.

I’m sure that Peter has more fun.
Than if he had stayed safe at home.
Today he’s just another one
Who felt that it was time to roam.

Far from his mothers eagle eye
escape from under mothers thumb.
They were some things he had to try
and realised their time had come.

He was disowned immediately.
His name is never mentioned now.
Sometimes I meet him on the sly
I like him better now somehow.

Now that he’s not held up to be
the Icon I should emulate
To tell the truth he’s just like me
Although he found out rather late.

Though I appear respectable.
I have a wild streak which I hide.
My aunt finds me acceptable.
I think she would horrified

to know that I both smoke and drink
and chase young ladies ardently.
But things are seldom as you think.
I find that fooling her pleases me.

A good God fearing lady who
still believes whole heartedly.
That there are things one does not do
Quite blind to life’s reality.

29/10/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

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Bad Poem Daze

Sleep walking towards

Another narcoleptic day

Given free change

For free coffee

To stay awake

On time for life

But out of step

On time for life

But out of step

The rhythm

Is not

A slow shoe shuffle

The rhythm is not

A saturday of amnesiac dreamers

I am sure this RTHYMN

looks better

Badly spelt

For we all have them

These 'bad poetry days

Of imagining in writing

There is rythnm

There is rythmn

There is rhythm

There is rhythm

In what we write?

But somedays

Our feet are out of time

There is a bright incompletion

A hope at failure

A 'version of getting it right'

And sleep walkers

Always wake up in the end

In another room

Another place

Without a map

Colliding with reason

Free from behaving as 'they should! '

Blame it on the dream

The hypnogagic dispair

Of being somewhere

Of being somebody else

This time is not

a 'designated bad poetry day'

Bad poetry is in a strange way

The bad medicine

making us better

Telling us...........it's okay NOT to try harder

The verbs fallen off the end of the sentence

The noun is 'open to suggestion re-invention

The adjective is cliched out of all possible exstinction

Who can know the trees better, than Wordsworth?

The lark more melodious than Keats?

A canon is not just for firing lose ammunition

Off a tongue, into the back of beyond

It is 'a storehouse for lovely things'

But bad poetry

Is the bled heart

The tramped out

Trumped up hollow of a broken dance

A chord fallen

From a perfect descant

It is the word that unwittingly breaks free

Bruises ugly from the beautiful

It is the unrelenting pattern

Beneath the rain

Always falling down

Beating its own rythmn

Out of time

Stepless

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Tale XX

THE BROTHERS.

Than old George Fletcher, on the British coast
Dwelt not a seaman who had more to boast:
Kind, simple and sincere--he seldom spoke,
But sometimes sang and chorus'd--'Hearts of Oak:'
In dangers steady, with his lot content,
His days in labour and in love were spent.
He left a Son so like him, that the old
With joy exclaim'd, ''Tis Fletcher we behold;'
But to his Brother, when the kinsmen came
And view'd his form, they grudged the father's

name.
George was a bold, intrepid, careless lad,
With just the failings that his father had;
Isaac was weak, attentive, slow, exact,
With just the virtues that his father lack'd.
George lived at sea: upon the land a guest -
He sought for recreation, not for rest;
While, far unlike, his brother's feebler form
Shrank from the cold, and shudder'd at the storm;
Still with the Seaman's to connect his trade,
The boy was bound where blocks and ropes were made.
George, strong and sturdy, had a tender mind,
And was to Isaac pitiful and kind;
A very father, till his art was gain'd,
And then a friend unwearied he remain'd;
He saw his brother was of spirit low,
His temper peevish, and his motions slow;
Not fit to bustle in a world, or make
Friends to his fortune for his merit's sake;
But the kind sailor could not boast the art
Of looking deeply in the human heart;
Else had he seen that this weak brother knew
What men to court--what objects to pursue;
That he to distant gain the way discern'd,
And none so crooked but his genius learn'd.
Isaac was poor, and this the brother felt;
He hired a house, and there the Landman dwelt,
Wrought at his trade, and had an easy home,
For there would George with cash and comforts come;
And when they parted, Isaac look'd around
Where other friends and helpers might be found.
He wish'd for some port-place, and one might

fall,
He wisely thought, if he should try for all;
He had a vote--and were it well applied,
Might have its worth--and he had views beside;
Old Burgess Steel was able to promote
An humble man who served him with a vote;
For Isaac felt not what some tempers feel,
But bow'd and bent the neck to Burgess Steel;
And great attention to a lady gave,
His ancient friend, a maiden spare and grave;
One whom the visage long and look demure
Of Isaac pleased--he seem'd sedate and pure;
And his soft heart conceived a gentle flame
For her who waited on this virtuous dame.
Not an outrageous love, a scorching fire,
But friendly liking and chastised desire;
And thus he waited, patient in delay,
In present favour and in fortune's way.
George then was coasting--war was yet delay'd,
And what he gain'd was to his brother paid;
Nor ask'd the Seaman what he saved or spent,
But took his grog, wrought hard, and was content;
Till war awaked the land, and George began
To think what part became a useful man:
'Press'd, I must go: why, then, 'tis better far
At once to enter like a British tar,
Than a brave captain and the foe to shun,
As if I fear'd the music of a gun.'
'Go not!' said Isaac--'you shall wear disguise.'
'What!' said the Seaman, 'clothe myself with lies!'
'Oh! but there's danger.'--'Danger in the fleet?
You cannot mean, good brother, of defeat;
And other dangers I at land must share -
So now adieu! and trust a brother's care.'
Isaac awhile demurr'd--but, in his heart,
So might he share, he was disposed to part:
The better mind will sometimes feel the pain
Of benefactions--favour is a chain;
But they the feeling scorn, and what they wish,

disdain;
While beings form'd in coarser mould will hate
The helping hand they ought to venerate:
No wonder George should in this cause prevail,
With one contending who was glad to fail:
'Isaac, farewell! do wipe that doleful eye;
Crying we came, and groaning we may die;
Let us do something 'twixt the groan and cry:
And hear me, brother, whether pay or prize,
One half to thee I give and I devise;
Por thou hast oft occasion for the aid
Of learn'd physicians, and they will be paid;
Their wives and children men support at sea,
And thou, my lad, art wife and child to me:
Farewell! I go where hope and honour call,
Nor does it follow that who fights must fall,'
Isaac here made a poor attempt to speak,
And a huge tear moved slowly down his cheek;
Like Pluto's iron drop, hard sign of grace,
It slowly roll'd upon the rueful face,
Forced by the striving will alone its way to trace.
Years fled--war lasted--George at sea remain'd,
While the slow Landman still his profits gain'd:
An humble place was vacant--he besought
His patron's interest, and the office caught;
For still the Virgin was his faithful friend,
And one so sober could with truth commend,
Who of his own defects most humbly thought,
And their advice with zeal and reverence sought:
Whom thus the Mistress praised, the Maid approved,
And her he wedded whom he wisely loved.
No more he needs assistance--but, alas!
He fears the money will for liquor pass;
Or that the Seaman might to flatterers lend,
Or give support to some pretended friend:
Still he must write--he wrote, and he confess'd
That, till absolved, he should be sore distress'd;
But one so friendly would, he thought, forgive
The hasty deed--Heav'n knew how he should live;
'But you,' he added, 'as a man of sense,
Have well consider'd danger and expense:
I ran, alas! into the fatal snare,
And now for trouble must my mind prepare;
And how, with children, I shall pick my way
Through a hard world, is more than I can say:
Then change not, Brother, your more happy state,
Or on the hazard long deliberate.'
George answered gravely, 'It is right and fit,
In all our crosses, humbly to submit:
Your apprehensions are unwise, unjust;
Forbear repining, and expel distrust.'
He added, 'Marriage was the joy of life,'
And gave his service to his brother's wife;
Then vow'd to bear in all expense a part,
And thus concluded, 'Have a cheerful heart.'
Had the glad Isaac been his brother's guide,
In the same terms the Seaman had replied;
At such reproofs the crafty Landman smiled,
And softly said, 'This creature is a child.'
Twice had the gallant ship a capture made -
And when in port the happy crew were paid,
Home went the Sailor, with his pockets stored,
Ease to enjoy, and pleasure to afford;
His time was short, joy shone in every face,
Isaac half fainted in the fond embrace:
The wife resolved her honour'd guest to please,
The children clung upon their uncle's knees;
The grog went round, the neighbours drank his

health,
And George exclaimed, 'Ah! what to this is wealth?
Better,' said he, 'to bear a loving heart,
Than roll in riches--but we now must part!'
All yet is still--but hark! the winds o'ersweep
The rising waves, and howl upon the deep;
Ships late becalm'd on mountain-billows ride -
So life is threaten'd and so man is tried.
Ill were the tidings that arrived from sea,
The worthy George must now a cripple be:
His leg was lopp'd; and though his heart was sound,
Though his brave captain was with glory crown'd,
Yet much it vex'd him to repose on shore,
An idle log, and be of use no more:
True, he was sure that Isaac would receive
All of his Brother that the foe might leave;
To whom the Seaman his design had sent,
Ere from the port the wounded hero went:
His wealth and expectations told, he 'knew
Wherein they fail'd, what Isaac's love would do;
That he the grog and cabin would supply,
Where George at anchor during life would lie.'
The Landman read--and, reading, grew distress'd:

-
'Could he resolve t'admit so poor a guest?
Better at Greenwich might the Sailor stay,
Unless his purse could for his comforts pay.'
So Isaac judged, and to his wife appealed,
But yet acknowledged it was best to yield:
'Perhaps his pension, with what sums remain
Due or unsquander'd, may the man maintain;
Refuse we must not.'--With a heavy sigh
The lady heard, and made her kind reply: -
'Nor would I wish it, Isaac, were we sure
How long this crazy building will endure;
Like an old house, that every day appears
About to fall, he may be propp'd for years;
For a few months, indeed, we might comply,
But these old batter'd fellows never die.'
The hand of Isaac, George on entering took,
With love and resignation in his look;
Declared his comfort in the fortune past,
And joy to find his anchor safely cast:
'Call then my nephews, let the grog be brought,
And I will tell them how the ship was fought.'
Alas! our simple Seaman should have known
That all the care, the kindness, he had shown,
Were from his Brother's heart, if not his memory,

flown:
All swept away, to be perceived no more,
Like idle structures on the sandy shore,
The chance amusement of the playful boy,
That the rude billows in their rage destroy.
Poor George confess'd, though loth the truth to

find,
Slight was his knowledge of a Brother's mind:
The vulgar pipe was to the wife offence,
The frequent grog to Isaac an expense;
Would friends like hers, she question'd, 'choose to

come
Where clouds of poison'd fume defiled a room?
This could their Lady-friend, and Burgess Steel
(Teased with his worship's asthma), bear to feel?
Could they associate or converse with him -
A loud rough sailor with a timber limb?'
Cold as he grew, still Isaac strove to show,
By well-feign'd care, that cold he could not grow;
And when he saw his brother look distress'd,
He strove some petty comforts to suggest;
On his wife solely their neglect to lay,
And then t'excuse it, as a woman's way;
He too was chidden when her rules he broke,
And when she sicken'd at the scent of smoke.
George, though in doubt, was still consoled to

find
His Brother wishing to be reckoned kind:
That Isaac seem'd concern'd by his distress,
Gave to his injured feelings some redress;
But none he found disposed to lend an ear
To stories, all were once intent to hear:
Except his nephew, seated on his knee,
He found no creature cared about the sea;
But George indeed--for George they call'd the boy,
When his good uncle was their boast and joy -
Would listen long, and would contend with sleep,
To hear the woes and wonders of the deep;
Till the fond mother cried--'That man will teach
The foolish boy his rude and boisterous speech.'
So judged the father--and the boy was taught
To shun the uncle, whom his love had sought.
The mask of kindness now but seldom worn,
George felt each evil harder to be borne;
And cried (vexation growing day by day),
'Ah! brother Isaac! What! I'm in the way!'
'No! on my credit, look ye, No! but I
Am fond of peace, and my repose would buy
On any terms--in short, we must comply:
My spouse had money--she must have her will -
Ah! brother, marriage is a bitter pill.'
George tried the lady--'Sister, I offend.'
'Me?' she replied--'Oh no! you may depend
On my regard--but watch your brother's way,
Whom I, like you, must study and obey.'
'Ah!' thought the Seaman, 'what a head was mine,
That easy berth at Greenwich to resign!
I'll to the parish'--but a little pride,
And some affection, put the thought aside.
Now gross neglect and open scorn he bore
In silent sorrow--but he felt the more:
The odious pipe he to the kitchen took,
Or strove to profit by some pious book.
When the mind stoops to this degraded state,
New griefs will darken the dependant's fate;
'Brother!' said Isaac, 'you will sure excuse
The little freedom I'm compell'd to use:
My wife's relations--(curse the haughty crew!) -
Affect such niceness, and such dread of you:
You speak so loud--and they have natures soft -
Brother--I wish--do go upon the loft!'
Poor George obey'd, and to the garret fled,
Where not a being saw the tears he shed:
But more was yet required, for guests were come,
Who could not dine if he disgraced the room.
It shock'd his spirit to be esteem'd unfit
With an own brother and his wife to sit;
He grew rebellious--at the vestry spoke
For weekly aid--they heard it as a joke:
'So kind a brother, and so wealthy--you
Apply to us?--No! this will never do:
Good neighbour Fletcher,' said the Overseer,
'We are engaged--you can have nothing here!'
George mutter'd something in despairing tone,
Then sought his loft, to think and grieve alone;
Neglected, slighted, restless on his bed,
With heart half broken, and with scraps ill fed;
Yet was he pleased that hours for play design'd
Were given to ease his ever-troubled mind;
The child still listen'd with increasing joy,
And he was sooth'd by the attentive boy.
At length he sicken'd, and this duteous child
Watch'd o'er his sickness, and his pains beguiled;
The mother bade him from the loft refrain,
But, though with caution, yet he went again;
And now his tales the Sailor feebly told,
His heart was heavy, and his limbs were cold:
The tender boy came often to entreat
His good kind friend would of his presents eat;
Purloin'd or purchased, for he saw, with shame,
The food untouch'd that to his uncle came;
Who, sick in body and in mind, received
The boy's indulgence, gratified and grieved.
'Uncle will die!' said George: --the piteous

wife
Exclaim'd, 'she saw no value in his life;
But, sick or well, to my commands attend,
And go no more to your complaining friend.'
The boy was vex'd, he felt his heart reprove
The stern decree.--What! punish'd for his love!
No! he would go, but softly, to the room,
Stealing in silence--for he knew his doom.
Once in a week the father came to say,
'George, are you ill?' and hurried him away;
Yet to his wife would on their duties dwell,
And often cry, 'Do use my brother well:'
And something kind, no question, Isaac meant,
Who took vast credit for the vague intent.
But, truly kind, the gentle boy essay'd
To cheer his uncle, firm, although afraid;
But now the father caught him at the door,
And, swearing--yes, the man in office swore,
And cried, 'Away! How! Brother, I'm surprised
That one so old can be so ill advised:
Let him not dare to visit you again,
Your cursed stories will disturb his brain;
Is it not vile to court a foolish boy,
Your own absurd narrations to enjoy?
What! sullen!--ha, George Fletcher! you shall see,
Proud as you are, your bread depends on me!'
He spoke, and, frowning, to his dinner went,
Then cool'd and felt some qualms of discontent:
And thought on times when he compell'd his son
To hear these stories, nay, to beg for one;
But the wife's wrath o'ercame the brother's pain,
And shame was felt, and conscience rose, in vain.
George yet stole up; he saw his Uncle lie
Sick on the bed, and heard his heavy sigh;
So he resolved, before he went to rest,
To comfort one so dear and so distressed;
Then watch'd his time, but, with a child-like art,
Betray'd a something treasured at his heart:
Th' observant wife remark'd, 'The boy is grown
So like your brother, that he seems his own:
So close and sullen! and I still suspect
They often meet: --do watch them and detect.'
George now remark'd that all was still as night,
And hasten'd up with terror and delight;
'Uncle!' he cried, and softly tapp'd the door,
Do let me in'--but he could add no more;
The careful father caught him in the fact,
And cried,--'You serpent! is it thus you act?
'Back to your mother!'--and, with hasty blow,
He sent th' indignant boy to grieve below;
Then at the door an angry speech began -
'Is this your conduct?--Is it thus you plan?
Seduce my child, and make my house a scene
Of vile dispute--What is it that you mean?
George, are you dumb? do learn to know your

friends,
And think a while on whom your bread depends.
What! not a word? be thankful I am cool -
But, sir, beware, nor longer play the fool.
Come! brother, come! what is it that you seek
By this rebellion?--Speak, you villain, speak!
Weeping! I warrant--sorrow makes you dumb:
I'll ope your mouth, impostor! if I come:
Let me approach--I'll shake you from the bed,
You stubborn dog--Oh God! my Brother's dead!'
Timid was Isaac, and in all the past
He felt a purpose to be kind at last:
Nor did he mean his brother to depart,
Till he had shown this kindness of his heart;
But day by day he put the cause aside,
Induced by av'rice, peevishness, or pride.
But now awaken'd, from this fatal time
His conscience Isaac felt, and found his crime:
He raised to George a monumental stone,
And there retired to sigh and think alone;
An ague seized him, he grew pale, and shook -
'So,' said his son, 'would my poor Uncle look.'
'And so, my child, shall I like him expire.'
'No! you have physic and a cheerful fire.'
'Unhappy sinner! yes, I'm well supplied
With every comfort my cold heart denied.'
He view'd his Brother now, but not as one
Who vex'd his wife by fondness for her son;
Not as with wooden limb, and seaman's tale,
The odious pipe, vile grog, or humbler ale:
He now the worth and grief alone can view
Of one so mild, so generous, and so true;
'The frank, kind Brother, with such open heart, -
And I to break it--'twas a demon's part!'
So Isaac now, as led by conscience, feels,
Nor his unkindness palliates or conceals;
'This is your folly,' said his heartless wife:
'Alas! my folly cost my Brother's life;
It suffer'd him to languish and decay -
My gentle Brother, whom I could not pay,
And therefore left to pine, and fret his life away

!'
He takes his Son, and bids the boy unfold
All the good Uncle of his feelings told,
All he lamented--and the ready tear
Falls as he listens, soothed, and grieved to hear.
'Did he not curse me, child?'--'He never cursed,
But could not breathe, and said his heart would

burst.'
'And so will mine:'--'Then, father, you must pray:
My uncle said it took his pains away.'
Repeating thus his sorrows, Isaac shows
That he, repenting, feels the debt he owes,
And from this source alone his every comfort flows.
He takes no joy in office, honours, gain;
They make him humble, nay, they give him pain:
'These from my heart,' he cries, 'all feeling

drove;
They made me cold to nature, dead to love.'
He takes no joy in home, but sighing, sees
A son in sorrow, and a wife at ease;
He takes no joy in office--see him now,
And Burgess Steel has but a passing bow;
Of one sad train of gloomy thoughts possess'd,
He takes no joy in friends, in food, in rest -
Dark are the evil days, and void of peace the best.
And thus he lives, if living be to sigh,
And from all comforts of the world to fly,
Without a hope in life--without a wish to die.

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