155
I sue, therefore I am-
is the motif of modern man.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Peggy Sue
If you knew a-peggy sue
Then youd know why I feel blue
My peggy a-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, yes I love you, peggy sue
Peggy sue, peggy sue
Oh how my heart yearns for you
Oh peggy--my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, yes I love you, peggy sue
Peggy sue, peggy sue
Pretty pretty pretty pretty peggy sue
Oh peggy a-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I need you, peggy sue
I love you, peggy sue
With a love so rare and true
Oh peggy--my-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I want you, peggy sue
Peggy sue, peggy sue
Pretty pretty pretty pretty peggy sue
My peggy a-my peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I want you, peggy sue
Well I love you, girl, and I want you, peggy sue
(pretty pretty pretty pretty peggy sue)
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Peggy Sue
(holly / petty / allison)
If you knew, peggy sue,
Then you know why I feel blue
Without peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Oh, how my heart yearns for you.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With a love so rare and true.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
I want you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue.
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty peggy sue.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl.
Yes, I need you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With a love so rare and true.
Oh, peggy, my peggy sue.
Well, I love you girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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Peggy Sue
If you knew peggy sue,
Then you know why I feel blue without peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, gal,
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty peggy sue.
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I need you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With that love so rare and true,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Look out!
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Oh, how my heart yearns for you,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh!
song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Peggy Sue
If you knew peggy sue,
Then you know why I feel blue without peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, gal,
Yes, I love you, peggy sue.
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty peggy sue.
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I need you, peggy sue.
I love you, peggy sue,
With that love so rare and true,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Look out!
Peggy sue, peggy sue,
Oh, how my heart yearns for you,
Oh ho, peggy,
My peggy sue-ue-ue-ue-ue.
Oh, well, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh, yes, I love you, girl,
And I want you, peggy sue.
Oh!
song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Modern Dancing
Modern, modern, modern, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern
I see you acting modernly with the boys and girls
Exposure breeds discovery in the modern world
The 60's hairdos 90's eyes are just flashing lights
A touch of neon hinting class for the modern night
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern
Mono vision tv face and determined eyes
The clothes are perfect the rips in place just the perfect size
Familiarity breeds contempt but it doesn't show
We've heard the music times before but it still makes you go
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, modern dancing
Modern dancing, dancing
....variations to fade....
song performed by Men Without Hats
Added by Lucian Velea
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Give The Po Man A Break
Give po man a break
Give po man a break
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
Give po man a
[...] Read more
song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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Modern Dance
Maybe I should go and live in amsterdam
In a side street near a big canal
Spend my evenings in the van gogh museum
What a dream, van gogh museum
Maybe its time to see tangiers
A different life-style, some different fears
And maybe I should be in edinburgh
In a kilt in edinburgh
Doin a modern dance
Doin a modern dance
Or maybe I should get a farm in southern france
Where the winds are wispy and the villagers dance
And you and I wed sleep beneath a moon
Moon in june and sleep till noon
And maybe you and I could fall in love
Regain the spirit that we once had
Youd let me hold you and touch the night
That shines so bright, so bright with fright
Doin a modern dance
Doin a modern dance
Shit, maybe I could go to yucatan
Where women are women, a mans a man
Ah, no one confused, ever loses place
With their place in the human race
Maybe Im not cut out for city life
The smell of exhaust, the smell of strife
And maybe you dont wanna be a wife
Its not a life being a wife
Doin a modern dance
Doin a modern dance
So maybe I should go to tanganyika
Where the rivers run, down mountains tall and steep
Or go to india to study chants
And lose romance to a mantras dance
I need a guru, I need some law
Explain to me the things we saw
Why it always comes to this
Its all downhill after the first kiss
Maybe I should move to rotterdam
Maybe move to amsterdam
I should move to ireland, italy, spain
Afghanistan where there is no rain
Or maybe I should just learn a modern dance
Where roles are shifting the modern dance
You never touch you dont know who youre with
This week, this month, this time of year
This week, this month, this time of year
Doin a modern dance
You dont know who youre with modern dance
I should move to pakistan, go to afghanistan
[...] Read more
song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Satan Absolved
(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.
[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.
Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.
Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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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:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Regiment of Princes
Musynge upon the restlees bysynesse
Which that this troubly world hath ay on honde,
That othir thyng than fruyt of bittirnesse
Ne yildith naght, as I can undirstonde,
At Chestres In, right faste by the Stronde,
As I lay in my bed upon a nyght,
Thoght me byrefte of sleep the force and might. 1
And many a day and nyght that wikkid hyne
Hadde beforn vexed my poore goost
So grevously that of angwissh and pyne
No rycher man was nowhere in no coost.
This dar I seyn, may no wight make his boost
That he with thoght was bet than I aqweynted,
For to the deeth he wel ny hath me feynted.
Bysyly in my mynde I gan revolve
The welthe unseur of every creature,
How lightly that Fortune it can dissolve
Whan that hir list that it no lenger dure;
And of the brotilnesse of hir nature
My tremblynge herte so greet gastnesse hadde
That my spirites were of my lyf sadde.
Me fil to mynde how that nat longe agoo
Fortunes strook doun thraste estat rial
Into mescheef, and I took heede also
Of many anothir lord that hadde a fal.
In mene estat eek sikirnesse at al
Ne saw I noon, but I sy atte laste
Wher seuretee for to abyde hir caste.
In poore estat shee pighte hir pavyloun
To kevere hir fro the storm of descendynge 2
For shee kneew no lower descencion
Sauf oonly deeth, fro which no wight lyvynge
Deffende him may; and thus in my musynge
I destitut was of joie and good hope,
And to myn ese nothyng cowde I grope.
For right as blyve ran it in my thoght,
Thogh poore I be, yit sumwhat leese I may.
Than deemed I that seurtee wolde noght
With me abyde; it is nat to hir pay
Ther to sojourne as shee descende may.
And thus unsikir of my smal lyflode,
Thoght leide on me ful many an hevy lode.
I thoghte eek, if I into povert creepe,
Than am I entred into sikirnesse;
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Hoccleve
Added by Poetry Lover
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Sue Me, Sue You Blues
You serve me
And Ill serve you
Swing your partners, all get screwed
Bring your lawyer
And Ill bring mine
Get together, and we could have
A bad time
Its affidavit swearing time
Sign it on the dotted line
Hold your Bible in your hand
Now all thats left is to
Find yourself a new band . . .
Were gonna play the sue me, sue
You blues
Were gonna play the sue me, sue
You blues
Hold the block on money flow
Move it into joint escrow
Court receiver, laughs, and thrills
But in the end we just pay those
Lawyers theit bills
When you serve me
And I serve you
Swing your partners, all get screwed
Bring your lawyer
And Ill bring mine
Get together, and we could have
A bad time
Were gonna play the sue me, sue
You blues
Im tired of playing the
Sue me, sue you blues
song performed by George Harrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Modern Girl
Shes a modern girl
Out to rule the world
And nothing can stop her now
She knows what she wants
And shes out to get it
Shes a modern girl
Life is hard in a midlands town
For a girl with her head in the clouds
Everybody puts her down
Shes just one of the crowd
She finds it aint easy
To stand on her own two feet
It aint easy
She knows this time she wont be beat
Shes a modern girl
Out to rule the world
And nothing can stop her now
She knows what she wants
And shes out to get it
Shes a modern girl
Now its time for her to find
The way its always been
Love is just a word to her
Another broken dream
She finds it aint easy
To stand on her own two feet
It aint easy
She knows this time she wont be beat
Shes a modern girl
Out to rule the world
And nothing can stop her now
She knows what she wants
And shes out to get it
Shes a modern girl
[instrumental]
She finds it aint easy
To stand on her own two feet
It aint easy
She knows this time she wont be beat
Shes a modern girl
Out to rule the world
And nothing can stop her now
She knows what she wants
And shes out to get it
Shes a modern girl
Shes a modern girl
Out to rule the world
And nothing can stop her now
She knows what she wants
And shes out to get it
[...] Read more
song performed by Rick Astley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ode to the Modern Work-Man
O, wretched modern work-man
The years, they pass you by
Everything you believe
Is nothing but a lie.
O, wretched modern work-man
From your neckties to your socks
You’re nothing but a slave
To pictures in a box.
O, wretched modern work-man
You live for the Public Eye
Your life is but a parody
Whose foundation is a lie.
O, wretched modern work-man
You strive, and save, and yearn
To keep up with the Kamaus
Spending more than you earn.
O, wretched modern work-man
You’re nothing but a slave
Your dreams are dead and buried
Lying in a shallow grave.
O, wretched modern work-man
You strangled your own dreams
You smothered your own happiness
Your hand stifled its screams.
O, wretched modern work-man
For the camera so aesthetic
Beneath the plastic smile
You’re pitiful and pathetic.
O, wretched modern work-man
You work yourself half to death
Chasing pounds and shillings
To swell another’s wealth.
O, wretched modern work-man
You lived your whole life as a show
Yet the only Watcher who mattered
Didn’t like what He saw.
O, wretched modern work-man
When you finally died
Your surname, and hospital bill
Were all you left behind…
Father Of A Boy Named Sue
(Okay now years ago I wrote a song called A Boy Named Sue and that was okay
And everything except then I started to think about it and I thought
It is unfair I am looking at the whole thing from the poor kid's point of view
And as I get more older and more fatherly
I begin to look at things from an old man's point of view
So I decided to give the old man equal time okay here we go)
Yeah I lef' home when the kid was three and it sure felt good to be fancy free
Tho I knew it wasn't quite the fatherly thing to do
But that kid kept screamin' and throwin' up and pissin' in his pants til I had enough
So just for revenge I went and named him Sue
Yeah it was Gatlinberg in mid July I was gettin' drunk but gettin' by
Gettin' old and goin' from bad to worse
When thru the door with an awful scream comes the ugliest queen I've ever seen
He says my name is Sue how do you do then he hits me with his purse
Now this ain't the way he tells the tale but he scratched my face with his fingernails
And then he bit my thumb and kicked me with his high-heeled shoe
So I hit him in the nose and he started to cry and he threw some perfume in my eye
And it sure ain't easy fightin' with a boy named Sue
So I hit him in the head with a caned-back chair
And he screamed hey dad you mussed my hair
And he hit me in the navel and knocked out a piece of my lint
He was spittin' blood I was spittin' teeth
And we crashed through the wall and out into the street
A kickin and gougin' in the mud and the blood and the creme de menth
Then out of his garter he pulls a gun I'm about to get shot by my very own son
He's screamin' bout Sigmond Freud and lookin' grim uh
So I thought fast and I told him some stuff
How I named him Sue just to make him tough
And I guess he bought it cuz now I'm livin' with him
Yeah he cooks and sews and cleans up the place he cuts my hair and shaves my face
And irons my shirts better than a daughter could do
And on the nights that I can't score well I can't tell you anymore
Sure is a joy to have a boy named Sue yeah a son is fun
But it's a joy to have a boy named Sue
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Fyftene Loyes Of Maryage
Somer passed/and wynter well begone
The dayes shorte/the darke nyghtes longe
Haue taken season/and brynghtnes of the sonne
Is lytell sene/and small byrdes songe
Seldon is herde/in feldes or wodes ronge
All strength and ventue/of trees and herbes sote
Dyscendynge be/from croppe in to the rote
And euery creature by course of kynde
For socoure draweth to that countre and place
Where for a tyme/they may purchace and fynde
Conforte and rest/abydynge after grace
That clere Appolo with bryghtnes of his face
Wyll sende/whan lusty ver shall come to towne
And gyue the grounde/of grene a goodly gowne
And Flora goddesse bothe of whyte and grene
Her mantell large/ouer all the erthe shall sprede
Shewynge her selfe/apparayled lyke a quene
As well in feldes/wodes/as in mede
Hauynge so ryche a croune vpon her hede
The whiche of floures/shall be so fayre and bryght
That all the worlde/shall take therof a lyght
So now it is/of late I was desyred
Out of the trenche to drawe a lytell boke
Of .xv. Ioyes/of whiche though I were hyred
I can not tell/and yet I vndertoke
This entrepryse/with a full pyteous loke
Remembrynge well/the case that stode in
Lyuynge in hope/this wynter to begyn
Some Ioyes to fynde that be in maryage
For in my youth/yet neuer acquayntaunce
Had of them but now in myn olde aege
I trust my selfe/to forther and auaunce
If that in me/there lacke no suffysaunce
Whiche may dyspleasyr/clerely set a parte
I wante but all/that longeth to that arte
yet wyll I speke/though I may do no more
Fully purposynge/in all these Ioyes to trete
Accordynge to my purpose made to fore
All be it so/I can not well forgete
The payne/trauayle/besynes and hete
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
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Modern Girl
Once a beautiful miss america married mr. right
Had a little baby girl, born on a stormy night
But that was once upon a time, now its a brand new world
Gimme the future, gimme the future, gimme the future with a modern girl
Gimme the future, gimme the future, gimme the future with a modern girl
Somewhere just between the past and somethin dawnin new
Theres a break in the chain, theres a skip in the clock
Girl thats where Im gonna find you
Between the boy I was before and what Im gonna be
Theres a clash on the border, a flame in the sky
Girl thats where youre gonna find me
Cant you hear the planet groanin like a broken down machine
Rusted with the guilty tears of fallen kings and queens
But you and I stand innocent, baby its a brand new world
Gimme the future, gimme the future, gimme the future with a modern girl
Gimme the future, gimme the future, gimme the future with a modern girl
(gimme the future, gimme the future, gimme the future with a modern girl)
Bridge:
Were the son and the daughter on a new freeway
(gimme the future, gimme the future)
Laughin while the road maps blow away
(gimme the future with a modern girl)
Were the son and the daughter and we aint afraid
(gimme the future, gimme the future)
Wont be makin the mistakes our fathers made
(gimme the future with a modern girl)
(gimme the future, gimme the future) oh, gimme the future with a modern girl
(gimme the future, gimme the future) oh, gimme the future with a modern girl
Once a beautiful miss america married mr. right
Had a little baby boy, born on a stormy night
But that was once upon a time, now its a brand new world
Gimme the future, gimme the future - gimme the future with a modern girl...
(repeats out)
(bridge)
song performed by Meat Loaf
Added by Lucian Velea
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Modern Love
I'm here to keep your lonely nights away
cheek to cheek I dance with you today
And the closer I get, the more I'm obsessed by you
And the further I go, the more I'm obsessed by you
You know that I meant what I said
I wanna see you from above
I wanna be left on the dancefloor
I wanna be the modern love
I'm here to keep your loneliness away
I'll be your drained lover if I may
And the further I go, the more I'm possessed by you
And the closer I get, the more I'm possessed by you
You know that I meant what I said
I wanna see you from above
I wanna be left on the dancefloor
I wanna be the modern love
The modern love
Drag me through the masses by the stage
erotic temptations within range
And the closer we get, the more you're obsessed by me
And the further we go, the more you're obsessed by me
You know that I meant what I said
I wanna see you from above
I wanna be left in the dancehall
I wanna be the modern love
The modern love
The modern love
I wanna be your modern love
The modern love
I wanna be your modern love
I'm the modern love
song performed by Yvonne
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Boy Named Sue
Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
but the meanest thing that he ever did was
before he left he went and named me Sue.
Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke,
and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks,
it seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
and some guy would laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell you, life ain't easy for a boy named Sue.
Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean.
My fist got hard and my wits got keen.
Roamed from town to town to hide my shame,
but I made me a vow to the moon and the stars,
I'd search the honky tonks and bars and kill
that man that gave me that awful name.
But it was Gatlinburg in mid July and I had
just hit town and my throat was dry.
I'd thought i'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon in a street of mud
and at a table dealing stud sat the dirty,
mangy dog that named me Sue.
Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
from a worn-out picture that my mother had
and I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old
and I looked at him and my blood ran cold,
and I said, 'My name is Sue. How do you do?
Now you're gonna die.' Yeah, that's what I told him.
Well, I hit him right between the eyes and he went down
but to my surprise he came up with a knife
and cut off a piece of my ear. But I busted a chair
right across his teeth. And we crashed through
the wall and into the street kicking and a-gouging
in the mud and the blood and the beer.
I tell you I've fought tougher men but I really can't remember when.
He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laughin' and then I heard him cussin',
he went for his gun and I pulled mine first.
He stood there looking at me and I saw him smile.
And he said, 'Son, this world is rough and if
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poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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The Mother's Lesson
Come hither an' sit on my knee, Willie,
Come hither an' sit on my knee,
An' list while I tell how your brave brither fell,
Fechtin' for you an' for me:
Fechtin' for you an' for me, Willie,
Wi' his guid sword in his han'.
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man!
Ye min' o' your ain brither dear, Willie,
Ye min' o' your ain brither dear,
How he pettled ye aye wi' his pliskies an' play,
An' was aye sae cantie o' cheer:
Aye sae cantie o' cheer, Willie,
As he steppit sae tall an' sae gran',
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man.
D'ye min' when the bull had ye doun, Willie,
D'ye min' when the bull had ye doun?
D'ye min' wha grippit ye fra the big bull,
D'ye min' o' his muckle red woun'?
D'ye min' o' his muckle red woun', Willie,
D'ye min' how the bluid doun ran?
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man.
D'ye min' when we a' wanted bread, Willie,
the year when we a' wanted bread?
How he smiled when he saw the het parritch an' a',
An' gaed cauld an' toom to his bed:
Gaed awa' toom to his bed, Willie,
For the love o' wee Willie an' Nan?
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man, Willie,
Hech, but ye'll be a brave man!
Next simmer was bright but an' ben, Willie,
Next simmer was bright but an' ben,
When there cam a gran' cry like a win' strang an' high
By loch, an' mountain, an' glen:
By loch, an' mountain, an' glen, Willie,
The cry o' a far forrin lan',
An' up loupit ilka brave man, Willie,
Up loupit ilka brave man.
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poem by Sydney Thompson Dobell
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Endymion: Book III
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men
With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen
Their baaing vanities, to browse away
The comfortable green and juicy hay
From human pastures; or, O torturing fact!
Who, through an idiot blink, will see unpack'd
Fire-branded foxes to sear up and singe
Our gold and ripe-ear'd hopes. With not one tinge
Of sanctuary splendour, not a sight
Able to face an owl's, they still are dight
By the blear-eyed nations in empurpled vests,
And crowns, and turbans. With unladen breasts,
Save of blown self-applause, they proudly mount
To their spirit's perch, their being's high account,
Their tiptop nothings, their dull skies, their thrones--
Amid the fierce intoxicating tones
Of trumpets, shoutings, and belabour'd drums,
And sudden cannon. Ah! how all this hums,
In wakeful ears, like uproar past and gone--
Like thunder clouds that spake to Babylon,
And set those old Chaldeans to their tasks.--
Are then regalities all gilded masks?
No, there are throned seats unscalable
But by a patient wing, a constant spell,
Or by ethereal things that, unconfin'd,
Can make a ladder of the eternal wind,
And poise about in cloudy thunder-tents
To watch the abysm-birth of elements.
Aye, 'bove the withering of old-lipp'd Fate
A thousand Powers keep religious state,
In water, fiery realm, and airy bourne;
And, silent as a consecrated urn,
Hold sphery sessions for a season due.
Yet few of these far majesties, ah, few!
Have bared their operations to this globe--
Few, who with gorgeous pageantry enrobe
Our piece of heaven--whose benevolence
Shakes hand with our own Ceres; every sense
Filling with spiritual sweets to plenitude,
As bees gorge full their cells. And, by the feud
'Twixt Nothing and Creation, I here swear,
Eterne Apollo! that thy Sister fair
Is of all these the gentlier-mightiest.
When thy gold breath is misting in the west,
She unobserved steals unto her throne,
And there she sits most meek and most alone;
As if she had not pomp subservient;
As if thine eye, high Poet! was not bent
Towards her with the Muses in thine heart;
As if the ministring stars kept not apart,
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poem by John Keats
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