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After Testing In a Marketed Ghetto

Style to address.
Style to impress,
Style.

Style to originate.
Update and/or replace.
To modify what has been done.
Refreshing an existence for everyone.
Whether or not,
It may irritate some.

While others may imitate it.
Style is what it takes,
To shape and remake to satisfy...
The taste of those who claim they know what it is!
After testing in a marketed ghetto.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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It's Ghetto

[Intro - Fabolous]
From hood to hood they see what's hood
And know who I be! uh!
[Verse - Fabolous]
I got the Yankee leaning, just sittin over to browse
And the G4 is just getting over the clouds
You can't tell me that I ain't what's up right now
I got a bottle of Tequila upside down
There's some chicks wit boyfriends that are up tight now
Cause they know the big 'dog' had a 'pups' like wow
I'm stuck in my city ways
Heading over seas wit a zip of New York City's haze
You rats can keep running through your city's maze
Until you get sprayed with the pesticide
I know you in that hole, you best to hide
Like the rest who tried, who went and testified
Of course your girl wanna slide over and be rubbed
And don't mind taking rides over the G dubs
I ride Rovers on Spre-dubs
Please don't be another dude who died over a ski dub, chill
[Chorus - Fabolous & (Thara)]
From hood to hood they see what's hood and know who I be
From block to block they see it, not can't know who I be
From state to state they cannot hate, they know who I be
From the east to west, through the midwest and downsouth it's Ghetto!
(It's Ghetto-oh!) It's Ghetto! (It's Ghetto-oh!) It's Ghetto!
(It's Ghetto-oh!) It's Ghetto! (It's Ghetto-ohh!) It's Ghetto!
[Verse - Fabolous]
I get it jumping like a lo lo ' six fo'
And bet they hop on it like a pogo stick pro
I'm chilling wit these go go chicks though
That do the kind of things that belong in a porno flick yo
You know it's him and the gang
Wit the bling worked on, that remind you of lemon meringue
But remember the thangs, ain't too far
And y'all wanna hear em go bang bang bang
Like John Witherspoon, I'm watching em closely
I know the snakes gon' slither soon
The two toned Maybach's getting delivered soon
The back feels like sitting in the living room
I'm so hard bodied like the suit on Batman
It's that man that back to back plat' scan
I'm back for the third time, I make words rhyme for a living
You probably heard I'm still ghetto, nigga!
[Chorus - Fabolous & (Thara)]
From hood to hood they see what's hood and know who I be
From block to block they see it, not can't know who I be
From state to state they cannot hate, they know who I be
From the east to west, through the midwest and downsouth it's Ghetto!
(It's Ghetto-oh!) It's Ghetto! (It's Ghetto-oh!) It's Ghetto!

[...] Read more

song performed by Fabolous
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ghetto Prisioners

Nas]
Uhh.. regulate nigga
Bravehearts nigga
Live for this
Some of y'all don't live at all
Get yours nigga
Get yours baby
Uhh yo.. yo..
As the night close down on the Earth like gray dark rings
Light of cities in the nights destination for Kings
with big dreams like Castro overthrew Bautista
from Cuba and pointed nukes toward the U.S.
About to shoot us for revolution; that's how you gotta move
A lot of rules, some locked in solitude
Curse the day of they birth confused, who's to be praised?
The mighty dollar -- or almighty Allah
I'm like the farmer, plantin words, people are seeds
My truth is the soil; help you grow like trees
May the children come in all colors, change like leaves
but hold before you, one of those, prophetic MC's
with blunted flows, seven hundred souls in me
Each channelin, from past to present times, heaven shines
light on those, innocent to how the world grows
Some men become murderers, and some girls become hoes
And you accounted for, everything that you heard
Do not speak to fools; they scorn the wisdom of your words
My heart is wise, bloodshot eyes, the saga never dies
Ghetto prisoners rise rise rise
Ghetto prisoners rise rise rise
Ghetto prisoners rise rise rise
Ghetto prisoners rise rise rise
Ghetto prisoners..
Yo we gotta be God's children, habitats in tall buildings
Rats crawl in filthy hallways, incinerators
Sinners who faithless, still there's hope, pray it's answered
Dreams turned real - what's a wicked nation?
One with blind men - not takin charge of the situation
Empty arguments and real conversations needed
The world'll need it, to hear it
Evil tries to weaken my spirit - it's chronic herb
This hurt come from the honest word
I now try hardest to serve my maker, what I learned
find it's way on the paper, so I could dictate it
Articulate it, luckily - I was put on one of the ships that made it
through strong currents and winds that left the others stranded
to sink in the Atlantic
Satan jigs the planet, not to get too religious, but
who decides when and if your life is finished?
If Christ is in this, for the sake of your name, oh Lord
may we break away from the chains abroad

[...] Read more

song performed by Nas
Added by Lucian Velea
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Style

(style) style, uh!
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Style, dig it
(style) style, come on
Uh, style
Style is not something that comes in a bottle
Style is more like jackie o. when she was doin aristotle
Style is not a logo that sticks 2 the roof of ones ass
Style is like a second cousin 2 class
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, say what?
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, check it
Style aint sittin court side with the owner of the team
Style is owning the court and charging em all a fee
Style is not lusting after someone because theyre cool
Style is loving yourself til everyone else does 2
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, maybe
U got it! - style, well well
U got it! - style
Bridge:
Style dont get drunk on a saturday night
Try 2 dress up every sunday mornin bright
Style dont get married then break the vow in a year
Style is keepin a promise
Raise your hand yall if u hear me
(style) {x2}
Style is not biting style when u cant find the funk
Style is the face u make on a michael jordon dunk
Style aint the jeep u bought when u know your broke ass got bills
Style is lettin your lover drive while u talk on the phone and chill
U got it! - style
U got it! - style, maybe
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style
Bridge:
Style is a gold-tooth smile with an attitude
Style is a peaceful wild postin the rude
Style is growing your own food
Style is a non-violent march
Style is an accurate account of whats inside every heart (style)
Style is not a lie
Style is a man that cries
Style is the glow in a pregnant womans eyes
(style) {x4}
U got it! - style, come on
U got it! - style, do that, do that
U got it! - style, got it?
U got it! - style, mad, come on

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Good Ol Ghetto

Yeah let me holla at you real quick
Imma bring yal back to the good ol good ol days
Ya feel me?
Some of that...
Good ol, good ol, good old ghetto, good ol
Good ol, good ol ghetto
Good ol, good ol ghetto, ghetto, ghetto
Good ol...heh
I told my man Im having a barbecue
So grab some folks and wont you slide right through
He brought this shorty that I used to know
It brought me back to when I was in school
She said usher where have you been?
We used to kick it every now and then
Remember when I used to call your phone
Tell you come on cause my mothers gone
How about them times I had to throw
A rock at your window
To let you know to come downstairs
And open the door
And after that baby it was on fasure
Honey got my head spinnin around for real
Cause Im thinking bout how good you used to feel
And I got a girl now and I dont get down like this, huh
But I must admit Im tempted and startin to reminisce, cause
Ay yo, ay yo, ay yo
Aint nothing like some good ol ghetto
Ay yo, ay yo, ay yo
Aint nothing like some good ol ghetto
Ay yo, ay yo, ay yo
Aint nothing like some good ol ghetto
Ay yo, ay yo, ay yo
Aint nothing like some good ol ghetto
Now shes asking me to take her
On a tour of my house so we can catch up
For all the time lost since I blew up
And became the man that drops his pants
And every girl around the world is dying to love
Break the beat down
Let me tell you what Im talking about
If youre not carefull itll turn you out
Its that way she used to go
When you want it nice and slow
Even though you cant
The memory will make you want some mo
She used to understand me
Touch me, hold me, taught me how to be a man
She used to kiss me all them things she used to show me
Damn I wish that I could do it again
Honey got my head spinnin around for real

[...] Read more

song performed by Usher
Added by Lucian Velea
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On A Path Of Least Resistance

I'm on a path of least resistance.
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance.

I'm on a path of least resistance,
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance.

Pain,
And its existence.
Felt,
And its existence.
Hurts,
In this existence...
And I need to get away.

Pain,
And its existence.
Felt,
And its existence.
Hurts,
In this existence...
And I need to get away.

I'm on a path of least resistance.
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance,
And I need to get away.

I'm on a path of least resistance.
And its existence.
On a path of least resistance,
And I need to get away.
Oh!
Pain,
And its existence.
Oh.
Felt,
And its existence.
Oh.
Hurts,
In this existence...
And I need to get away.

Oh pain,
And its existence.
Oh.
Felt,
And its existence.
Oh.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Taste So Good

[intro]
Please play at low volume
Preferably, while having sex
Can I taste you, can I taste you
(yes, you can)
Can I taste your body, girl
(of course you can)
Can I taste you, can I taste you
I just cant wait to
Can I taste you, can I taste you
(of course you can)
Can I taste your body, girl
(yes, you can)
Can I taste you, can I taste you
(oh, dont stop, until I tell you to)
Oh, baby whatcha doing
Got me feining like this
I wanna go to your valley
I wanna taste your lips, oh yeah
Never understood it
All my homies say dont do it
But baby when I tried it
Girl I couldnt help but like it
You taste so good
Baby you taste so good
You know you do girl
You taste so good
Baby do you like it when I taste your love, yeah
You taste so good
Baby, you taste so good
You know that it tastes so good
You taste so good
So good to me, my baby
So good to me, yeah
Sweeter than candy
Making my tongue so happy, oh
Loving down your backside
Girl, wont you take me on a thigh ride
Well go home
We;ll go around when we bounce
Youre giving me so much
Just swing and make you bounce
Your love is so delicious
Baby, I can tell by the smile on your face
Ya dont mind
If I have another taste
You taste so good
Baby, you taste so good
You taste so good
I cant get over this taste I found

[...] Read more

song performed by Next
Added by Lucian Velea
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Tastes So Good

Please play at low volume
Preferably while havin sex
can i taste you can i taste you
(yes you can)
Can i taste your body girl
(of course you can)
Can i taste you can i taste you
I just cant wait to
Can i taste you can i taste you
( of course you can)
Can i taste your body Girl
(yes you can)
can i taste you can i taste you
( oh dont stop until i tell you to)
Oh baby whatcha doin
got me feining like this
I wanna go to your valley
I wanna taste your lips oh yeah
Never understood it
All my homies say dont do it
But baby when i tried it
Girl i couldnt help but like it
You taste so good
baby you tase so good
you know you do girl
you taste so good
Baby do you like it when i taste your love yeah
you taste so good
Baby you taste so good
you know that it tastes so good
you taste so good
so good to me my baby
so good to me yeah
Sweeter than candy
makin my tongue so happy oh
Lovin down your backside
Girl wont you take me on a thigh ride
we'll go home
we'll go areound when we bounce
your givin me so much
just swing and make you bounce
your love is so delicious
baby i can tell by the smile on your face
ya dont mind
if i have another taste
You taste so good
baby you taste so good
you taste so good
I cant get over this taste i found
when i go downtown down

[...] Read more

song performed by Next
Added by Lucian Velea
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Steal Away

Is just that ghetto ghetto
Ghetto ghetto
Is just that ghetto ghetto
Ghetto ghetto
We still ghetto ghetto
Ghetto ghetto

I've been thinkin lately baby
Maybe we should layin tonight
I would ?? paper was crazy
Music if is wrong I feel this right
Maybe we can make sweet love
Cause I know we feel so good
And more of two we escape this pressure
You know what? We should

Steal away

song performed by Mary J Blige from No More Drama
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lil' Ghetto Boy

The ghetto x8
Snoop doggy dogg:
Wake up, jumped out my bed
I'm in a two man cell with my homie lil' 1/2 dead
Murder was the case that they gave me
Dear god, i wonder can you save me?
I'm only eighteen, so i'm a young buck
It's a ride, if i don't scrap, i'm gettin' stuck
But that's the life of g, i guess
Ese's way deep, shanked two in the chest
Best run cause brothers is droppin' quicker
Ugn, too late, damn, down goes another nigga
Bouncin' off the walls, throwin' them dogs
Gettin' that rep as a young hog
It ain't nothin' like the street life
You better be strapped with your shank
Cause ain't no fist fight
So i guess i gots to handle mine
Since i did the crime, i gots to do my time
Chorus:
We run game in the ghetto
We gets high in the ghetto
We gets shot in the ghetto
You might get stuck in the ghetto
Lil' ghetto boy
Dr. dre:
Now i'm holdin' the dub, sittin' on swoll
Twenty-seven years old, up for parole, stroll
I'm back up on my feet with my mind on the money
That i be makin' soon as i touch them streets
Things done changed on this side
Remember they used to thump, but now they blast, right?
But it ain't no thang to me
Cause now i'm what they call a loced ass o.g.
The little homies from the hood with grip
Are the ones i get with cause i'm down to set trip
Nigga, i'm bigger than you, so whatcha wanna do?
Didn't know he had a twenty-two
Straight sittin' behind his back
I grabbed his pockets and then i heard six caps
I fell to the ground with blood on my hands
I didn't understand
How a nigga so young could bust a cap
I used to be the same way back
I guess that's what i get (for what?)
For tryin' to jack the little homies for they grip
Chorus
Snoop doggy dogg:
Somethin' for the real o.g.'s to get with
Some facts made our made

[...] Read more

song performed by Snoop Dogg
Added by Lucian Velea
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Kid Fears

Pain from pearls -hey little girl
How much have you grown
Pain from pearls - hey little girl
Flower for the ones youve known
Are you on fire
From the years
What would you give
For your kid fears
Secret staircase, running high
You had a hiding place
Secret staircase, running low
But they all know, now youre inside
Are you on fire
From the years
What would you give
For your kid fears
Your kid fears
Skipping stones, we know the price now
And any sin will do
How much further, if you can spin
How much further, if you are smooth
Are you on fire
[are you on fire]
From the years
[from the years? ]
What would you give
For your kid fears
[what would you give]
[what would replace the rent with the stars above]
(replace the rent with the stars above)
[replace the need with love]
(replace the need with love)
[replace the anger with the tide]
(replace the anger with the tide)
[replace the ones, the ones, the ones, that you love]
(replace the ones, the ones, the ones, that you love)
Ah the ones that you love
Are you on fire
(replace the rent with the stars above)
[are you on fire]
From all the years
(replace the need with love)
[from the years]
What would you give
(replace the anger with the tide)
[what would you give]
For your kid fears
(for the ones that you love)
(the ones that you love)
Hold on now

[...] Read more

song performed by Indigo Girls
Added by Lucian Velea
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The mother and the artist

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of wonderfully emollient freshness; every
unfurling instant of impregnably magnificent existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of spellbindingly undefeated innocence; every
unfurling instant of symbiotically pristine existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of timelessly unconquerable truth; every unfurling
instant of bounteously magnanimous existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unfathomably unfettered creativity; every
unfurling instant of timelessly burgeoning existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of royally triumphant resplendence; every
unfurling instant of unconquerably majestic existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of eternally exhilarating vivaciousness; every
unfurling instant of redolently insuperable existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbelievably ameliorating optimism; every
unfurling instant of marvelously benign existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of brilliantly liberated camaraderie; every
unfurling instant of iridescently inscrutable existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unshakably virgin righteousness; every
unfurling instant of beautifully untainted existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of uninhibitedly heavenly frolic; every unfurling
instant of tantalizingly sensuous existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of compassionately humanitarian friendship; every
unfurling instant of magically mitigating existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of miraculously everlasting freshness; every
unfurling instant of invincibly coalescing existence,

A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of pricelessly ubiquitous oneness; every unfurling

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
Added by Poetry Lover
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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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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My Mind Is Not Design To Only Address The Best

My mind is not design to only address the best.
Although I try to hide it...
My thoughts sometimes are dirty!
My mind is not design to only address the best.
Just like the rest,
I do enjoy raw recipes!

I select what's on my mind all the time I do.
With a purpose and a meaning,
And how it's done too!
I select what's on my mind all the time I do.
With a purpose and a meaning,
And how it's done too!

My mind is not design to only address the best.
Although I try to hide it...
My thoughts sometimes are dirty!
My mind is not design to only address the best.
Just like the rest,
I do enjoy raw recipes!

Some choose to be their own enemy.
Not me!
With wishes to impress.
Just to leave some people guessing.

With me what you see is what you get that's it!
I'm not the one to sit around because I do not fit.
Or be chosen by debate.
To prove myself worthy!

My mind is not design to only address the best.
Although I try to hide it...
My thoughts sometimes are dirty!
My mind is not design to only address the best.
Just like the rest,
I do enjoy raw recipes!

I select what's on my mind all the time I do.
With a purpose and a meaning,
And how it's done too!
I select what's on my mind all the time I do.
With a purpose and a meaning,
And how it's done too!

And when it's good to me I get numb.
Sometimes dumb...
If I'm running from a gun!
And when it's good to me I get numb.
Sometimes dumb...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Nasty Ghetto

I was looking for love
In all the right places
He was flirting with me
And Lord I had to flirt back
And I fell in love
Right there on the dance floor, yeah
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He turned my frown right upside down yeah
He was looking so fine I had to say 'baby get in line' yeah
The beat was jumping and his hands were moving along me yeah
But baby don't you know that I know you ain't got it like that
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
Come on pretty baby can't you hear what I say
You gotta like it like that, liking my way
Come on pretty baby can't you hear what I say
You gotta like it like that, liking my way
I was searching for love, ooh
In all the right places
He was staring at me
I found myself staring right back yeah
And I fell in love
Right there on the dance floor, yeah
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that
(That you like it like that, that, that, that...)
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
He got caught in a nasty ghetto
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that
But baby don't you know that I know that you like it like that

song performed by Sugababes
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ghetto Bass

Mr. Mixx:
Ghetto Style Dee-Jays!
{Don't touch that stereo!}
{Ghetto} {Bass}
Verse 1: Fresh Kid Ice
What's up, party people, we're back again
Bringin' you the message from some of our friends
They're the funkiest crew from the heart of the city
When the amps are on, they'll take no pity
'Cause Ghetto has the style that has the girls jockin'
When you talk about the system, all you say is "Rockin'!"
Others hear the name, then scream out loud
'Cause they are known to move the crowd
When you hear the sound, they'll stop and wonder
Then gaze upon the speaker, the wall of thunder
Standin' on the ground, 3 stories high
The deepest bass and the real fresh high
So step off your throne; they're on the loose
The DJ's from Miami with all the juice
So consider yourself warned; they're back on the case:
It's Luke Skyywalker and the Ghetto Style Bass!
{Ghetto} {Get up}
Verse 2: Brother Marquis
To some, "Ghetto" is a name; to others a tradition
In the city of boom, ther can never be an addition
Of any of the DJ's to rock the land
Like the ones from the city and the boys from Pac-Jam
Handsome Harry, you know the brother was strong
He ain't dared any man to get him wrong
L.A. Jay, this young brother doesn't play
He'll strong-arm any sucker who gets in his way
Baby Ced, Liberty City born and bred
Always known for the knowledge and sense of the head
Disco Gene, he's reunited with the team
He was gone for a while, but back in the swing of things
Amazing Chico, a king to his trade
Known as Bernie B. on 9-1-7 Bass
And G.I. Joe, who has the girls by the row
He always gets cased 'cause his game is gettin' slow
And last but not least, marvelous J.P.,
And we can't forget Cisco - we're glad you are free
So one day to your kids you will tell the story
Of how the Ghetto Style DJ's achieved their glory!
{Ghetto} {Bass}
{Look out everybody, 'cause they're in the place,
It's Luke Skyywalker and the Ghetto Bass

song performed by 2 Live Crew
Added by Lucian Velea
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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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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Paradise Lost: Book 05

Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl,
When Adam waked, so customed; for his sleep
Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred,
And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound
Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan,
Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song
Of birds on every bough; so much the more
His wonder was to find unwakened Eve
With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek,
As through unquiet rest: He, on his side
Leaning half raised, with looks of cordial love
Hung over her enamoured, and beheld
Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep,
Shot forth peculiar graces; then with voice
Mild, as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes,
Her hand soft touching, whispered thus. Awake,
My fairest, my espoused, my latest found,
Heaven's last best gift, my ever new delight!
Awake: The morning shines, and the fresh field
Calls us; we lose the prime, to mark how spring
Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove,
What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed,
How nature paints her colours, how the bee
Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.
Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye
On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake.
O sole in whom my thoughts find all repose,
My glory, my perfection! glad I see
Thy face, and morn returned; for I this night
(Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed,
If dreamed, not, as I oft am wont, of thee,
Works of day past, or morrow's next design,
But of offence and trouble, which my mind
Knew never till this irksome night: Methought,
Close at mine ear one called me forth to walk
With gentle voice; I thought it thine: It said,
'Why sleepest thou, Eve? now is the pleasant time,
'The cool, the silent, save where silence yields
'To the night-warbling bird, that now awake
'Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song; now reigns
'Full-orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light
'Shadowy sets off the face of things; in vain,
'If none regard; Heaven wakes with all his eyes,
'Whom to behold but thee, Nature's desire?
'In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment
'Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze.'
I rose as at thy call, but found thee not;
To find thee I directed then my walk;
And on, methought, alone I passed through ways

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poem by John Milton
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Paradise Lost: Book 04

O, for that warning voice, which he, who saw
The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud,
Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,
Came furious down to be revenged on men,
Woe to the inhabitants on earth! that now,
While time was, our first parents had been warned
The coming of their secret foe, and 'scaped,
Haply so 'scaped his mortal snare: For now
Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down,
The tempter ere the accuser of mankind,
To wreak on innocent frail Man his loss
Of that first battle, and his flight to Hell:
Yet, not rejoicing in his speed, though bold
Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast,
Begins his dire attempt; which nigh the birth
Now rolling boils in his tumultuous breast,
And like a devilish engine back recoils
Upon himself; horrour and doubt distract
His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir
The Hell within him; for within him Hell
He brings, and round about him, nor from Hell
One step, no more than from himself, can fly
By change of place: Now conscience wakes despair,
That slumbered; wakes the bitter memory
Of what he was, what is, and what must be
Worse; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue.
Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view
Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixes sad;
Sometimes towards Heaven, and the full-blazing sun,
Which now sat high in his meridian tower:
Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began.
O thou, that, with surpassing glory crowned,
Lookest from thy sole dominion like the God
Of this new world; at whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminished heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
Of Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,
That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere;
Till pride and worse ambition threw me down
Warring in Heaven against Heaven's matchless King:
Ah, wherefore! he deserved no such return
From me, whom he created what I was
In that bright eminence, and with his good
Upbraided none; nor was his service hard.
What could be less than to afford him praise,
The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks,
How due! yet all his good proved ill in me,
And wrought but malice; lifted up so high
I sdeined subjection, and thought one step higher

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poem by John Milton
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