Cool
[Nate Dogg]
Just yesterday I had to turn a bitch away
I got to many on my side - I got to many in my face
Come ride with me
Take you where the gangstas play
Often heard but seldom seen
Thats the way that its supposed to be
When you do see me
Mobbin wit a gangsta lean
Got a piece by my side
You can ride baby close your eyes girl
[Chorus: Nate Dogg
song performed by Snoop Dogg from The Old Fashioned Way
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Doggfather
(snoop)
I know you gonna dig this
(timbaland)
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh
Snoop:
I'm the doggfatha
Dig this
(timbaland)
Uh huh, uh huh say what
Snoop:
I'm the doggfatha
And you know that
(timbaland)
Uh huh uh huh
Say what say what
Snoop:
I'm the doggfatha
And you know that
Snoop:
When i wizake up in the mornin (say what)
And i get up out my bizzed (say what)
I feel gizood, oh yes i dizoo (uh)
Cuz i still can give it up on yizoo (huh)
Cuz what is all i look fizzor (uh)
In the fizee where the papers lizzone (uh-huh)
But as for mizee, i own gizees (what)
When im bustin rizzocks and ya know that (ticky ticky ticky ticky ticky)
I put down more hits than mafioso niggaz (uh-huh)
And lucky luciano bout to sing soprano
And i know, i know the way it feels (uh-huh)
And baby bubba we gon keep it on the real (huh huh huh)
Just to getcha caught up in amazement (yeahhh, what)
We talkin to cubans, so it might get dangerous (yeah, uh)
Now when it izzoo, people said oh dizzamn (uh-huh)
And let the bizzow wizzow ride the trizail ha ha (uh-huh)
How you feelin, i'm on the ceilin,
Ridin like a villain makin the killins,
Thrillin the crowd (uh-huh)
With my new hairdo (hairdo)
Outbiddin you (fo sho)
Fifty dollar socks credit thousand dollar shoes (uh-huh)
Man i give the blues to the sucka m.c.'s, who you be?
You know who i be, young nigga
Chorus:
Snoop, (timbaland):
I'm the doggfatha
(dogg dogg dogg dogg dogg dogg dogg fatha fatha)
And ya know that, i'm the doggfatha
(dogg dogg dogg dogg dogg dogg dogg fatha)
And ya know that, i'm the doggfatha
[...] Read more
song performed by Snoop Dogg
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Say Keep It Gangsta (feat. Butch Cassidy And Sharissa)
[B] Wyclef, Butch Cassidy, Sharissa
[W] What up
[S] Unnnnnh!
[B] From the West Indies to the West Coast
[W] Callabo
[B] You say keep it gangsta
[Chorus: Wyclef] (Butch Cassidy)
But when the beef come, you're the first to run (YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
Yo, that ain't your gun, it belongs to... (YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
You roll with a hundred, but when the beef come don't nobody want it
(Gangster, la la la la, la la la la)
[Wyclef] (Butch Cassidy)
I want to dedicate this chant to my people locked down livin life in the yard
(KEEP IT GANGSTA)
Keep a shank boofed up in their tape just in case a thug wanna play hard
(KEEP IT GANGSTA)
All this ice-grillin talk bout you King of New York, now you wanna call a guard
(THAT AIN'T GANGSTA)
But it's too late when the guard show up cause your body's going straight to the morgue
(KEEP IT GANGSTA)
[Chorus: Wyclef] (Butch Cassidy)
But when the beef come, you're the first to run (YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
Yo, that ain't your gun, it belongs to... (YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
You roll with a hundred, but when the beef come don't nobody want it
(...GANGSTER)
[Butch Cassidy] (Wyclef & Sharissa)
I wanna dedicate this jam to the ladies holdin spots when they fellows lock down
(KEEP IT GANGSTA)
Keep a glock in they pocket blowin shots till they pray I'm in town
(KEEP IT GANGSTA)
And to the snitch that ratted on rich the streets got you 16 rounds
(THAT AIN'T GANGSTA)
But theres only one place for a gully rat, six feet under the ground
(YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
I'm gon keep it gangsta
(YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
La la la la, la la la la
(YOU SAY KEEP IT GANGSTA)
[Chorus: Wyclef] (Butch Cassidy)
You roll with a hundred, but when the beef come don't nobody want it
(...GANGSTER)
[Big Jack] (Butch Cassidy)
Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up
Yo, stop with the posin
Y'all ain't really holdin
I'm about to open, a chapter of the Omen
Casket, closin, bodies, frozen
I've, been chosen, y'all forsaken
Ante up, so the chains get taken
Flash backs of the rock season in the making
[...] Read more
song performed by Wyclef Jean
Added by Lucian Velea
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Diamond In The Back
Gangsta whitewalls, TV antennas in the back (the back, the back...)
[Chorus]
I wanna (diamond in the back)
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
And I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' the scene with a gangsta lean)
diamond in the, diamond in the, diamond in the...
[Verse 1]
It's hard growin' up lookin' at drug dealers wit' all this paper
Wonderin' how I can get me some
My family's strugglin', I'm buggin', sittin' on my porch
So confused, chewin' on some bubblegum
I was always taught to use my manners with the misses
But please, stay away from the hoes and snithes
And I was always reached for the sky, I dont know why
Ima little bitty kid wit' a whole buncha gangsta wishes
When I grow up, you just wait, Ima be so straight
And everything's gonna be so marvelous
No more borrowin' from the neighbors, no more haters
No more blowin' Nintendo cartridges
Ima have it made in the shade, Ima be so paid
And my fam, get 'em off that payin' them bills
Matta fact Im schemin' my way on up out this hood, I'll be good
When I ditch these trainin' wheels
[Chorus]
Diamond in the back
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' in the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' in the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
And I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' in the scene with a gangsta lean)
I wanna (diamond in the back)
I wanna (sunroof top)
I wanna (diggin' in the scene with a gangsta lean)
Diamond in the, diamond in the, diamond in the...
[Verse 2]
I'm sick and tired of ridin' public transportation
Been patient waitin' on my set of wheels
I'm willin' to do what it takes, whatever the stakes
[...] Read more
song performed by Ludacris
Added by Lucian Velea
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Snoops Upside Ya Head
[snoop talking]
Aiyyo soopafly, why don't you get work with one of them fly-ass remixes?
Dpg style...hahahaha...
[nate dogg]
Who's the man with the mic in haaand?
Who's the man with the masterlplaaan?
He goes by the name of snoop d-o-g
He play the mic and these bustas fleee
[verse 1, snoop]
It's a whole-nother day, i'm back up in ya
Snoop d-o double g, i representah
Been away for a while but y'all know
I'm still doggystylin on death row (you know!)
Got things locked down, sold up
So if you plan on comin out, fool hold up
This a stick up, get up
They got yo shiz on the shelf, oh mine's too
And guess who they gon pick up
Some fools think they know they hit, but they don't
Some m-a's escape, some won't
Bumpin' heads with bustas
Where you from? eastside, longbeach, represent 2-1
The homie just got paroled
And he got more stories than the highway patrol
Tellin me about the money suge knight stole
But don't let that leak cuz, fool i get swole
I see you're tryin to get in, to get out
Put me up on game tellin me who gon' jack me
But ever since i was a puppy til i was paroled
I never had no other dogg pullin on my phone
Chorus:
Say snoops upside ya head
Say snoops upside ya head (say what?)
Say snoops upside ya head
Say snoops upside ya head
Hold on, what's my name?
Snoop dogg! snoop dogg! (snoop...) x4
[verse 2, snoop]
I see these rappers in this game be doin way too much
Actin tough with this east-west coast stuff
See me, i'm all about my money man
I stay fly and dry
I don't get caught up in the rain
Cuz game (game) recognize game (game)
No matter where you from, we all can get dumb, insane
And turn the party out without a doubt
Unless you them fools who ain't got no clout
Lbc and beware of my crew
Cuz uh, we out there stuck on the crazy glue
Upside ya head like oops, snoop's the lick
[...] Read more
song performed by Snoop Dogg
Added by Lucian Velea
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Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin'
Gangsta Trippin
song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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Gangsta Lovin' (w/ Eve)
[Intro/Chorus: Alicia Keys]
I just wanna rock you, all night long, oh oh oh oh! (I wanna rock you)
I just wanna rock you, all night long, oh oh oh oh!
[Verse 1: Eve]
Yo! Need you to understand me daddy I ain't your average
Baby girl doin it all I'm well established
I ain't tryin to lead you on just wanna ask
If you might wanna give me your name explain your status
You know I seen youtime to time you seem available
Don't mean sh**, I know these b****** wanna settle you
Gotta say you on my short list of few
Them other dudes is ok but I'm feelin you
Want you in the best way what you 'gon do about it?
Why don't you just test me you won't want to do without it
Yo I'm comin at you hard bein a thug
And I ain't givin up till I get that gangsta love, uh huh
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Eve]
I know you seen me this night that night, always my sh** tight
Hair done, outfit crazy, skirts fit just right
White beater with a bangin tan
Walk in demandin all eyes baby here I am
Ain't a shame of my frame and I know you watchin
Puttin on a show for you pop and I ain't stoppin
Lot of action in your corner yeah you gonna do
Only thing to make it better though is me with you
And I know you feelin that regardless of your frontin
And I heard through the streets it was me you wantin
Let me find out you shy or somethin
But I know your not, so stop the games and approach is you real or not?
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Eve]
Yo! Uh! Ok! Numbers exchange, now it's in play
Shouldn't have took you so long in the first place
Nah just playin cutie, yeah give me a call
No it's cool you ain't got to see me to my car
See I'm a big girl, but you'll find out
Stuck on me while I drop top and ride out
Wheels spinnin wanna know what shorty all about
But it's cool I'm proven in these words that's comin out my mouth
[Alicia Keys]
It's that gangsta lovin (Gangsta) that's just got me buggin (Buggin)
It's that gangsta lovin (Gangsta gangsta) that just got me buggin
(Oh Oh!)
[Chorus]
[Outro: Alicia Keys]
I wanna rock you baby, I wanna hold you baby
Won't you be my baby? I wanna be your lady
I wanna rock you baby, I wanna hold you baby
Won't you be my baby? I wanna be your lady
[...] Read more
song performed by Alicia Keys
Added by Lucian Velea
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An Essay on Criticism
Part I
INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to the public. That a true Taste is as rare to be found as a true Genius. That most men are born with some Taste, but spoiled by false education. The multitude of Critics, and causes of them. That we are to study our own Taste, and know the limits of it. Nature the best guide of judgment. Improved by Art and rules, which are but methodized Nature. Rules derived from the practice of the ancient poets. That therefore the ancients are necessary to be studied by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil. Of licenses, and the use of them by the ancients. Reverence due to the ancients, and praise of them.
'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But of the two less dangerous is th'offence
To tire our patience than mislead our sense:
Some few in that, but numbers err in this;
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss;
A fool might once himself alone expose;
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.
'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
In Poets as true Genius is but rare,
True Taste as seldom is the Critic's share;
Both must alike from Heav'n derive their light,
These born to judge, as well as those to write.
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well;
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,
But are not Critics to their judgment too?
Yet if we look more closely, we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind:
Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right:
But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced,
Is by ill col'ring but the more disgraced,
So by false learning is good sense defaced:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools:
In search of wit these lose their common sense,
And then turn Critics in their own defence:
Each burns alike, who can or cannot write,
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite.
All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.
If Mævius scribble in Apollo's spite,
There are who judge still worse than he can write.
Some have at first for Wits, then Poets pass'd;
Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain Fools at last.
Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass,
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,
[...] Read more
poem by Alexander Pope
Added by Poetry Lover
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Can I Get A...
[jay-z]
Bounce wit me, bounce wit me
Can ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me
Ya-yah-yah, ya-ya-yah-yeah bounce wit me, bounce wit me
Ge-gi, ge-gi-gi-gi-geyeah bounce wit me, bounce wit me
Get it!
Verse one: jay-z
Can i hit in the morning
Without giving you half of my dough
And even worse if i was broke would you want me?
If i couldn't get you finer things
Like all of them diamond rings [niggaz] kill for
Would you still roll?
If we couldn't see the sun risin off the shore of thailand
Would you ride then, if it wasn't droppin?
If wasn't ah, eight figure [nigga] by the name of jigga
Would you come around naked, would you clown me?
If i couldn't flow futuristic would ya
Put your two lips on my [dick], kiss it - could ya
See yourself with a [nigga] workin harder than 9 to 5
Contend with six, two jobs to survive, or
Do you need a balla? so you can shop and tear the mall up?
Brag, tell your friends what i bought ya
If you couldn't see yourself with a [nigga] when his dough is low
Baby girl, if this is so, yo..
Chorus: repeat 2x
[jay-z] can i get a what what
To these chickens from all of my doves
Who don't love those, they get no dough
[amil] can i get a woop woop
To these fellas from all of my ladies
Who don't got love for players without dubs?
[amil] now can you bounce wit me, uhh
[jay-z] bounce wit me, bounce wit me
Can ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me
[amil] uh uh.. major coins
[jay-z] bounce wit me, bounce wit me
[amil] yeah, not done
[jay-z] can ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me
[amil] uh-uh uh uh
Verse two: amil
You ain't gotta be rich but funk dat
How a [bitch] gonna get around your bus pass
? put this [ass] on your mustache
Can you afford me, my ? ? this, never corny
Ambition makes me, so horny, i come fussin in the
Front end, if you got nuttin, baby boy, you betta
"git up, git out and get somethin" [shit!]
I like a, lot of pravada, alize and baca
Late nights, candlelight, can i tear the [cock] up
[...] Read more
song performed by Jay-Z
Added by Lucian Velea
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Regulate
G:
Regulators
We regulate any stealing of his property
And we damn good too
But you cant be any geek off the street,
Gotta be handy with the steel if you know what I mean, earn your keep!
Regulators!!! mount up!
G:
It was a clear black night, a clear white moon
Warren g was on the streets, trying to consume
Some skirts for the eve, so I can get some funk
Just rollin in my ride, chillin all alone
Nate:
Just hit the eastside of the lbc
On a mission trying to find mr. warren g.
Seen a car full of girls aint no need to tweak
All you skirts know whats up with 213
G:
So I hooks a left on the 21 and lewis
Some brothas shootin dice so I said lets do this
I jumped out the ride, and said whats up?
Some brothas pulled some gats so I said Im stuck.
Nate:
Since these girls peepin me ima glide and swerve
These hookers lookin so hard they straight hit the curb
Wontcha think of better things than some horny tricks
I see my homey and some suckers all in his mix
G:
Im gettin jacked, Im breakin myself
I cant believe they taking warrens wealth
They took my rings, they took my rolex
I looked at the brotha said damn, whats next?
Nate:
They got my homey hemmed up and they all around
Aint none of them seeing if they going straight pound for pound
I gotta come up real quick before they start to clown
I best pull out my strap and lay them busters down
G:
They got guns to my head
I think Im going down
I cant believe this happenin in my own town
If I had wings I could fly
Let me contemplate
I glanced in the cut and I see my homey nate
Nate:
Sixteen in the clip and one in the hole
Nate dogg is about to make some bodies turn cold
Now they droppin and yellin
Its a tad bit late
Nate dogg and warren g had to regulate
[...] Read more
song performed by Warren G
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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Soul Survivor
(Intro)
Come on, yo come on (survivor, survivor)
Come on, come on, come on, come on (survivor, survivor)
Come on, come on (soul survivor)
Come on, come on, come on, come on
(LL Cool J)
They said I wasn't rough, too much dough, he got an old flow
Everytime you open your mouth you feel your elbow
I'll catch a felony on top of a melody
brought a family, and dough woulda been so happily
I'll beat the Laker off of a clown and chop him down to size
Sick of all these wanna-be bad guys
Made loot, many g's, bought a crib where I live
told my kids - "yo, damn, that I'm a fugitive"
Runnin' from the streets and our beats - the sad sheets, uh
A sunny beach, video hoes within reach
Farmers Boulevard - liberty and forty is gone
And E ain't put nobody on
When I came back to smack and give 'em a welt
like belts makin' them strip and all of that
Punks better run for they guns
I'm not the one and can't nobody rule until L's done
(Chorus)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
(LL Cool J)
I worked the Murphy on the mix
What's wrong with these stupid lunatics playin' "Joint" for a drag-bit?
I'm harder than-?find in a jar?
People wasn't rippin' these records, all of y'all would get robbed
I'm comin' straight out the barrel with your name on my arm
blowin' the hoody of your head like a home-made bomb (BOOM!!)
I'm big and so you figured I would relax (nah!)
Don't ever sleep I'll wake ya up with an axe
The Boulevard ain't safe for my beats - drop the herb
Twenty times harder without a curse
Makin' rats flee, hardcore - and that's me!!
The baddest soloist in hip-hop history
L-L-C-to-the-O-to-the-O-L-J, so what'cha wanna know?
Throw ya in the MVP on your knees G
A crowbar in your mouth - now ask me...
(Chorus)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
[...] Read more
song performed by LL Cool J
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Keepin It Gangsta
[fabolous talking]
Fabolous, yeah, uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah
Yo, I dont care what yall do, how yall do
Where yall do it, just keep it gangsta
Look at them gangstas
[verse 1]
Fabs livin la vida loca
Only n**** in the hood you can come see for either weed or coca
Narks wanna see me and my team in a chair
They heard about the kid with the high beams in his ear
D.e.a been lookin for proof since 9-3
When I came through in the benz with the roof behind me
Tell them jakes through on bullet proofs and find me
You need extingwishers to go in the booth behind me
Who the f*** wanna beef
My fendi knits be 3x so you cant see whats tucked underneath
And I might not even drop
Just take my advance and make a small town in cleveland pop
Vivrant thing on my hip, that will make you breathe and stop
Rock ya chain in ya shirt, your roll(rollie) with the sleeve on top
You n***** know where my heat stay at
I leave n***** m I a and I aint talkin where the heat play at
Cmon
[chorus]
Yall know who
Keepin it gangsta
We come through
Keepin it gangsta
Yall know how we do
Keepin it gangsta
My whole crew
Keepin it gangsta
[verse 2]
N***** dont think Im still shavin crack
Cause I pull up in a truck with a system that make the pavement crack
Baugettes have my face and beard covered
And I keep a leathal weapon like mel gidson and dan glover
Now I lose v money and c lo
And the cops think me and muggs is g money and nino
I dont hit these honeys with c-notes
Rather put them on greyhound, strap these honeys with kilos
Type of gangsta every chick wants
I get nikes from aster you wont see hit the store for 6 months
Something bout the beamer x5
When I come through it be increaseing a skeos sex drive
Half the click look like they struck genisis up
The other half is tryin to wrap they sentances up
Tn never gone hate, half these artists never slum weight
When they call ny, its the only time they touch the 7-1-8
[chorus]1x
[...] Read more
song performed by Fabolous
Added by Lucian Velea
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Hudibras: Part 3 - Canto II
THE ARGUMENT
The Saints engage in fierce Contests
About their Carnal interests;
To share their sacrilegious Preys,
According to their Rates of Grace;
Their various Frenzies to reform,
When Cromwel left them in a Storm
Till, in th' Effigy of Rumps, the Rabble
Burns all their Grandees of the Cabal.
THE learned write, an insect breeze
Is but a mungrel prince of bees,
That falls before a storm on cows,
And stings the founders of his house;
From whose corrupted flesh that breed
Of vermin did at first proceed.
So e're the storm of war broke out,
Religion spawn'd a various rout
Of petulant Capricious sects,
The maggots of corrupted texts,
That first run all religion down,
And after ev'ry swarm its own.
For as the Persian Magi once
Upon their mothers got their sons,
That were incapable t' enjoy
That empire any other way;
So PRESBYTER begot the other
Upon the good old Cause, his mother,
Then bore then like the Devil's dam,
Whose son and husband are the same.
And yet no nat'ral tie of blood
Nor int'rest for the common good
Cou'd, when their profits interfer'd,
Get quarter for each other's beard.
For when they thriv'd, they never fadg'd,
But only by the ears engag'd:
Like dogs that snarl about a bone,
And play together when they've none,
As by their truest characters,
Their constant actions, plainly appears.
Rebellion now began, for lack
Of zeal and plunders to grow slack;
The Cause and covenant to lessen,
And Providence to b' out of season:
For now there was no more to purchase
O' th' King's Revenue, and the Churches,
But all divided, shar'd, and gone,
That us'd to urge the Brethren on;
Which forc'd the stubborn'st for the Cause,
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poem by Samuel Butler
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The Ghost - Book IV
Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;
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poem by Charles Churchill
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V. Count Guido Franceschini
Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Love's A Bitch
Oh!...oh!
Loves got me by the ass again
I've been in love since I don't know when
I keep a-runnin' and I don't know why
Love's givin' me a crock of lies
Out of breath and I'm out of time
Misery is a ruff fight
Love's a bitch, baby
Love's a bitch, yes it's crazy
Love's a bitch, baby
Love's a bitch, yeah it's crazy
Love's a bitch!
Like a cat with diamond eyes
Love's power it can hypnotize
Done me in (ha)
More than twice
She'll make you think that it's over night
Your all alone in a room that's wrong
Your body shakes
Your feet are cold
Love's a bitch, baby
Love's a bitch, yeah it's crazy
Love's a bitch, baby
Love's a bitch, yes it's crazy
Love's a bitch! (whoa, ooh ooh, yes it is)
(Oh, oh, oh)
Such a bitch (oh)
Don't you wait, don't stand still
Gotta keepa movin' or you'll pay the bill
Go by car, go by train
You gotta keepa runnin' or you'll feel the pain
Keepa runnin', keepa runnin'
Love's a bitch, baby
Love's a bitch, yes it's crazy
Love's a bitch, bitch, bitch, baby
Love's a bitch, it's crazy
Love's a bitch! (NO!)
It's a bitch!!!!
song performed by Quiet Riot
Added by Lucian Velea
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II. Half-Rome
What, you, Sir, come too? (Just the man I'd meet.)
Be ruled by me and have a care o' the crowd:
This way, while fresh folk go and get their gaze:
I'll tell you like a book and save your shins.
Fie, what a roaring day we've had! Whose fault?
Lorenzo in Lucina,—here's a church
To hold a crowd at need, accommodate
All comers from the Corso! If this crush
Make not its priests ashamed of what they show
For temple-room, don't prick them to draw purse
And down with bricks and mortar, eke us out
The beggarly transept with its bit of apse
Into a decent space for Christian ease,
Why, to-day's lucky pearl is cast to swine.
Listen and estimate the luck they've had!
(The right man, and I hold him.)
Sir, do you see,
They laid both bodies in the church, this morn
The first thing, on the chancel two steps up,
Behind the little marble balustrade;
Disposed them, Pietro the old murdered fool
To the right of the altar, and his wretched wife
On the other side. In trying to count stabs,
People supposed Violante showed the most,
Till somebody explained us that mistake;
His wounds had been dealt out indifferent where,
But she took all her stabbings in the face,
Since punished thus solely for honour's sake,
Honoris causâ, that's the proper term.
A delicacy there is, our gallants hold,
When you avenge your honour and only then,
That you disfigure the subject, fray the face,
Not just take life and end, in clownish guise.
It was Violante gave the first offence,
Got therefore the conspicuous punishment:
While Pietro, who helped merely, his mere death
Answered the purpose, so his face went free.
We fancied even, free as you please, that face
Showed itself still intolerably wronged;
Was wrinkled over with resentment yet,
Nor calm at all, as murdered faces use,
Once the worst ended: an indignant air
O' the head there was—'t is said the body turned
Round and away, rolled from Violante's side
Where they had laid it loving-husband-like.
If so, if corpses can be sensitive,
Why did not he roll right down altar-step,
Roll on through nave, roll fairly out of church,
Deprive Lorenzo of the spectacle,
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Fourth Book
THEY met still sooner. 'Twas a year from thence
When Lucy Gresham, the sick semptress girl,
Who sewed by Marian's chair so still and quick,
And leant her head upon the back to cough
More freely when, the mistress turning round,
The others took occasion to laugh out,–
Gave up a last. Among the workers, spoke
A bold girl with black eyebrows and red lips,–
'You know the news? Who's dying, do you think?
Our Lucy Gresham. I expected it
As little as Nell Hart's wedding. Blush not, Nell,
Thy curls be red enough without thy cheeks;
And, some day, there'll be found a man to dote
On red curls.–Lucy Gresham swooned last night,
Dropped sudden in the street while going home;
And now the baker says, who took her up
And laid her by her grandmother in bed,
He'll give her a week to die in. Pass the silk.
Let's hope he gave her a loaf too, within reach,
For otherwise they'll starve before they die,
That funny pair of bedfellows! Miss Bell,
I'll thank you for the scissors. The old crone
Is paralytic–that's the reason why
Our Lucy's thread went faster than her breath,
Which went too quick, we all know. Marian Erle!
Why, Marian Erle, you're not the fool to cry?
Your tears spoil Lady Waldemar's new dress,
You piece of pity!'
Marian rose up straight,
And, breaking through the talk and through the work,
Went outward, in the face of their surprise,
To Lucy's home, to nurse her back to life
Or down to death. She knew by such an act,
All place and grace were forfeit in the house,
Whose mistress would supply the missing hand
With necessary, not inhuman haste,
And take no blame. But pity, too, had dues:
She could not leave a solitary soul
To founder in the dark, while she sate still
And lavished stitches on a lady's hem
As if no other work were paramount.
'Why, God,' thought Marian, 'has a missing hand
This moment; Lucy wants a drink, perhaps.
Let others miss me! never miss me, God!'
So Marian sat by Lucy's bed, content
With duty, and was strong, for recompense,
To hold the lamp of human love arm-high
To catch the death-strained eyes and comfort them,
Until the angels, on the luminous side
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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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