Daddy Longlegs
You're in my urban world.
In the countryside.
Lame on the bottom of the bath.
Daddy Longlegs.
I look to see signs of life.
Unsteady, slight movements are observed.
Pick up precarious.
I am seriously
Worried.
You will not survive
My clay hands.
Daddy Longlegs.
With a wish and a prayer,
You are gone.
Out of my window for
A song.
Released to your world.
Do not come back here.
It is not safe!
poem by Peter Vealey
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Social Netowrking Of Robots
end of world war
end of world war 11
end of world scenarios
end of world thursday prophet
end of world wa rtwo
end of world war 2 france
end of world video
end of world war 1 effects
end of world vision
end of world songs
end of world war 2
end of world war 1
end of world wallpapers
end of world scenerio
end of world time clock
end of wortd
end of world wtf mate youtube
end of world west america
end of world war ii
end of world war iii
end of wrestling match signal
end of worlds
end of worldwar 2
end of world war i
end of world war two
end of wrestling match indicator
end of world war 2 wikipedia
end of world war 21945
end of world war one
end of world wite web
end of worled war 2
end of world wide ii
end of world war 2 info
end of world war two date
end of wow
end of ww 2
end of ww2
end of ww1 treaty of versailles
end of ww1 treaty
end of ww ii
end of ww2 in czechoslovakia
end of ww2 date
end of ww1 ghost photos
end of ww1 treaty of vers
end of ww 1
end of ww2 for japanese americans
end of ww-ii
end of ww2 battleship
end of wrold war 2
end of ww11
[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Prayer Changes
Somebody just look back over your life and
See where he brought you from
How many of you know?
Prayer changes (I heard that)
Prayer changes (I believe that)
Prayer changes (I know that)
Prayer changes things
Prayer changes (I heard that)
Prayer changes (I believe that)
Prayer changes (I know that)
Prayer changes things
Now I was in a real bad abusive relationship
Knowing that that was no way for me to live
A young girl like me, raised up in a good family
Way too young to endure such misery
And every night I cry myself to sleep from all the pain
And the more I prayed for sunny days it seemed to rain
(He'd hit me) at any given time
(He'd hit me) no reason at all
(He'd hit me) so, so hard
(He'd hit me) my God, sometimes I'd fall
Mama asked what happened to me
And I'd take up for him
She said the devil's a liar
And prayed God get rid of him
And now I'm going to school
Hitting those books I'm doing fine
He's out my life I'm not confused
Got peace of mind man I tell you
Prayer changes (it changes)
Prayer changes (oh it changes)
Prayer changes (I'm a witness)
Prayer changes things (said I know)
Prayer changes (it changes)
Prayer changes (it changes)
Prayer changes (I'm a living witness)
Prayer changes things
I was a freshman in college and uh...
I had just made it on the basketball team (yeah)
I had all the skills it took to make it
But on my grades I would get nothing but all D's (whoa-ah)
And the coach came to me
And had a talk with me about my career
Said if you don't get your grades up
I'm gonna have to sit you down this year
Man as tough as I was I'd break down and cried
'Cause everybody knows me
Knows that basketball is my life
(Algebra) I studied hard
(Chemistry) I gave my all
[...] Read more
song performed by R. Kelly
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
It Takes A Worried Man
Oh it takes a worried man, sing a worried song
Takes a worried man, come sing a little worried song
Well it takes a worried man to sing a worried song
Im worried now, wont be worried long
I went down to the riverside and I laid me down to sleep
Went down to the riverside, laid me down to sleep, lord
A-well I went down to the riverside, laid me down to sleep
When I woke up there were shackles on both-a my feet
Hit it!
(chorus)
It takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
It takes a worried man (come) to sing a worried song
Yeah, it takes a worried man, yeah, to sing a worried song
Im worried now but I wont be worried long
Worry for me!
(instrumental)
I said, judge (judge) judge, whats a-gonna be my fine?
I said, judge (judge) judge (judge) tell me whats gonna be my fine?
I said, judge (judge) judge (judge) tell me whats gonna be my fine?
He said, twenty-one years (oh) on that old rock island line
Oh well it takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
Takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
Yeah, it takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
Im worried now, but I wont be worried long
Sing it one more time!
It takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
It takes a worried man, to sing a worried song, my lord
It takes a worried man, to sing a worried song
Im worried now, but I wont be worried long
song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Urban Time vs. Rural Time
3 am:
Urban time: Alarm clocks, hoots and toots
Rural time: Cocks crow, cows moo and weavers beaker
4 am:
Urban time: Whoever snoozed the alarm? Dress up… very scarcely
Rural time: Dust the mat; grab yesterday’s very hard ugali and into overall
5 am:
Urban time: Marikiti and Gikomba beat traffic – rush hour
Rural time: Milking and feeding; early bird catches the worm
6 am:
Urban time: Office not open, tarts hover at Koinange zonked with sleep
Rural time: Coffee farm supervisor calls out names – mine missing
7 am:
Urban time: Offspring sings national anthem in academy playfully
Rural time: Sibling barefoot sings “Yesu anipenda” without blasphemy
8 am:
Urban time: Yaaaawn! Hate work before it even begins – so monotonous
Rural time: Tea baskets at back, yard stick in hand, water jar on head
9 am:
Urban time: What took company tea so long? Was tea boy fired or what?
Rural time: Sing Mary oh, sing Mary oh… Market women return with empty baskets
10 am:
Urban time: Finally the tea is here… (Chit chat) I love this job!
Rural time: The sun’s scorching – take a breath beneath shade
11 am:
Urban time: Silence and whispered gossip, functional smiles and fake hugs
Rural time: Shout greeting from ridge to ridge and insults from bush to bush
12 pm:
Urban time: Yaaaaaawn! Bad date - fear the approach of the next hour
Rural time: Any one with a watch? The sun has hid beneath the cloud
1 pm:
Urban time: Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures – am dieting…
Rural time: Carry produce to factory, take a nap in the wilderness, and water the livestock
2 pm:
Urban time: Oh how I hate this! Parliament session on, but ethics dictate TV without volume
Rural time: Women plot today’s chama as men discuss the local barmaid’s “possessions”
3 pm:
Urban time: Who tampered with the office clock? I can see some hawkers outside…
[...] Read more
poem by David Munene wa Kimberly
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy
Oh, its daddy, daddy, daddy, its daddy, daddy, all the time.
Lord, thats daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, all the time.
If Im awake or if Im dreamin lord, my daddy daddys on my mind.
Well, I brag bout my daddy to all the women that I see
Yeah, I brag bout my daddy to all the women that I see
Never say those damn women lord, theyre tryin to steal my daddy away from me.
Thats my daddy, daddy, daddy, lord, its daddy, daddy, all the time.
Thats my daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, all the time
If Im awake or just dreamin lord, daddy daddys on my mind.
Well, if your daddy likes walkin, honey, walks five miles a day.
Yeah, if your daddy likes walkin, walks five miles a day
No matter what he wants, child, he walks off far way.
Oh, its daddy, daddy, daddy, lord, its daddy, daddy, all the time.
Its my daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, all the time.
If Im awake or if Im dreamin lord, daddy daddys on my mind.
Well, I got a lovin daddy, treats me like a daddy should.
Yeah, I got a lovin daddy, treats me like a daddy should.
You know he kisses me at bed time, gives me candy when Im good.
Oh, its daddy, daddy, daddy, lord, its daddy, daddy, all the time.
Lord, its daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy, all the time.
If Im awake or if Im dreamin lord, my daddy daddys on my mind.
song performed by Janis Joplin
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Daddy Pop
Oh daddy
Oooh, sock it to me
See my brother talkin plently head
Steady wishin he could sleep in your bed
Steady wishin he was in your car
Just a steady wishin that he was who you are
Pop daddy - daddy pop
Brother steady talkin while
The girlies steady hop
Pop daddy - daddy pop
Punchin in the rock and roll clock (oh daddy)
See all the people wonder why
You set your goals high - high as the sky
See the people runnin from the truth
Livin in the past
When they need to be livin the new
Pop daddy (oh yeah) - daddy pop
Brother steady talkin while
The girlies steady hop
Pop daddy - daddy pop
Punchin in the rock and roll clock
Pop - daddy pop
Pop - punchin in the rock and roll clock
Talk, guitar, talk
(oh daddy)
Daddy pop is the writer and love is the book
U better look it over before you overlook
One - oh daddy
Two - oh yeah
Three - ooo, sock it to me
Four - oh (come on), your the best
See all my critics wastin time
Worryin about the daddy while he beat you blind
Get your life together - stop your cryin
Whenever you say that you cant -
Thats when you need to be tryin
Pop daddy - daddy pop (oh daddy)
Brother steady talkin while (steady, steady, steady)
The girlies steady hop
Pop daddy - daddy pop
Punchin in the rock and roll clock (punchin in... punchin in)
What kind of fool is this, that thinks daddy will miss
What kind of boy would dis, a list, as long as his-tory itself
I got grooves and grooves up on the shelf (oh daddy)
Deep purple concord jams (oh yeah)
This party I will slam (I dont think)
I dont think you understand (sock it to me)
Whatever you cant do - daddy can
The one and only daddy pop
(oh daddy) one and only - daddy pop
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Daddy Rolling Stone
Girl you think youve had loving,
Girl you think youve had loving,
Girl you think youve had fun,
Girl you think youve had fun,
Girl you aint a seen nothin til I come along.
Girl you aint a seen nothin til I come along.
Im a daddy, Im a daddy, Im a daddy,
Im a daddy, Im a daddy, Im a daddy,
Yeah Im a daddy daddy Im daddy rolling stone.
Yeah Im a daddy daddy Im daddy rolling stone.
I got a friend named cody,
I got a friend named cody,
Hes got a girl named chris,
Hes got a girl named chris,
Im gonna steal that girl though hes twice my size,
Im gonna steal that girl though hes twice my size,
cause I know how to do it like this.
cause I know how to do it like this.
Im a daddy, Im a daddy, Im a daddy,
Im a daddy, Im a daddy, Im a daddy,
Yeah Im a daddy daddy Im daddy rolling stone,
Yeah Im a daddy daddy Im daddy rolling stone,
Im daddy rolling stone, Im daddy rolling stone,
Im daddy rolling stone, Im daddy rolling stone,
Daddy rolling stone, call me daddy rolling stone.
Daddy rolling stone, call me daddy rolling stone.
I said I got a friend named cody,
I said I got a friend named cody,
Hes got a girl named chris,
Hes got a girl named chris,
Im gonna steal that girl though hes twice my size,
Im gonna steal that girl though hes twice my size,
cause I know how to do it like this.
cause I know how to do it like this.
Im a daddy, Im a daddy, Im a daddy, daddy,
Im a daddy, Im a daddy, Im a daddy, daddy,
Im daddy rolling stone, Im daddy rolling stone,
Im daddy rolling stone, Im daddy rolling stone,
Just call me daddy rolling stone dear,
Just call me daddy rolling stone dear,
Long hair long nose, daddy rolling stone.
Long hair long nose, daddy rolling stone.
song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
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,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
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
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
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
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Three Women
My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.
Young is her cheek and her throat;
Her eyes have the smile o' May.
And love is the word for each note
In the song of my life to-day.
Her eyes have the smile o' May;
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
And the song of my life to-day
Is love, beautiful love.
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
Ah, would it but fly to my breast
Where love, beautiful love,
Has made it a downy nest.
Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
My love who is young, so young;
I have made her a downy nest
And life is a song to be sung.
1
I.
A dull little station, a man with the eye
Of a dreamer; a bevy of girls moving by;
A swift moving train and a hot Summer sun,
The curtain goes up, and our play is begun.
The drama of passion, of sorrow, of strife,
Which always is billed for the theatre Life.
It runs on forever, from year unto year,
With scarcely a change when new actors appear.
It is old as the world is-far older in truth,
For the world is a crude little planet of youth.
And back in the eras before it was formed,
The passions of hearts through the Universe stormed.
Maurice Somerville passed the cluster of girls
Who twisted their ribbons and fluttered their curls
In vain to attract him; his mind it was plain
Was wholly intent on the incoming train.
That great one eyed monster puffed out its black breath,
Shrieked, snorted and hissed, like a thing bent on death,
[...] Read more
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]
POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR
POEMS
1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)
Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.
Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou:
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.
Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,
But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.
Forgive what seem’d my sin in me;
What seem’d my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.
Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.
Forgive these wild and wandering cries,
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Canterbury Tales; the Seconde Nonnes Tale
The Prologe of the Seconde Nonnes Tale.
The ministre and the norice unto vices,
Which that men clepe in Englissh ydelnesse,
That porter of the gate is of delices,
To eschue, and by hir contrarie hir oppresse,
(That is to seyn by leveful bisynesse),
Wel oghten we to doon al oure entente,
Lest that the feend thurgh ydelnesse us shente.
For he, that with hise thousand cordes slye
Continuelly us waiteth to biclappe,
Whan he may man in ydelnesse espye,
He kan so lightly cacche hym in his trappe,
Til that a man be hent right by the lappe,
He nys nat war the feend hath hym in honde.
Wel oghte us werche, and ydelnesse withstonde.
And though men dradden nevere for to dye,
Yet seen men wel by resoun, doutelees,
That ydelnesse is roten slogardye,
Of which ther nevere comth no good encrees;
And seen that slouthe hir holdeth in a lees,
Oonly to slepe, and for to ete and drynke,
And to devouren al that othere swynke.
And for to putte us fro swich ydelnesse,
That cause is of so greet confusioun,
I have heer doon my feithful bisynesse,
After the legende, in translacioun
Right of thy glorious lyf and passioun,
Thou with thy gerland wroght with rose and lilie,
Thee meene I, mayde and martir, seint Cecilie.
Invocacio ad Mariam.
And thow that flour of virgines art alle,
Of whom that Bernard list so wel to write,
To thee at my bigynnyng first I calle,
Thou confort of us wrecches, do me endite
Thy maydens deeth, that wan thurgh hir merite
The eterneel lyf, and of the feend victorie,
As man may after reden in hir storie.
Thow mayde and mooder, doghter of thy sone,
Thow welle of mercy, synful soules cure,
In whom that God for bountee chees to wone,
Thow humble and heigh, over every creature
Thow nobledest so ferforth oure nature,
[...] Read more
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
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!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Undying One- Canto III
'THERE is a sound the autumn wind doth make
Howling and moaning, listlessly and low:
Methinks that to a heart that ought to break
All the earth's voices seem to murmur so.
The visions that crost
Our path in light--
The things that we lost
In the dim dark night--
The faces for which we vainly yearn--
The voices whose tones will not return--
That low sad wailing breeze doth bring
Borne on its swift and rushing wing.
Have ye sat alone when that wind was loud,
And the moon shone dim from the wintry cloud?
When the fire was quench'd on your lonely hearth,
And the voices were still which spoke of mirth?
If such an evening, tho' but one,
It hath been yours to spend alone--
Never,--though years may roll along
Cheer'd by the merry dance and song;
Though you mark'd not that bleak wind's sound before,
When louder perchance it used to roar--
Never shall sound of that wintry gale
Be aught to you but a voice of wail!
So o'er the careless heart and eye
The storms of the world go sweeping by;
But oh! when once we have learn'd to weep,
Well doth sorrow his stern watch keep.
Let one of our airy joys decay--
Let one of our blossoms fade away--
And all the griefs that others share
Seem ours, as well as theirs, to bear:
And the sound of wail, like that rushing wind
Shall bring all our own deep woe to mind!
'I went through the world, but I paused not now
At the gladsome heart and the joyous brow:
I went through the world, and I stay'd to mark
Where the heart was sore, and the spirit dark:
And the grief of others, though sad to see,
Was fraught with a demon's joy to me!
'I saw the inconstant lover come to take
Farewell of her he loved in better days,
And, coldly careless, watch the heart-strings break--
Which beat so fondly at his words of praise.
She was a faded, painted, guilt-bow'd thing,
Seeking to mock the hues of early spring,
When misery and years had done their worst
[...] Read more
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
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
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Daddy Cool
Shes crazy like a fool
What about it daddy cool
Shes crazy like a fool
What about it daddy cool
Im crazy like a fool
What about it daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
Shes crazy like a fool
What about it daddy cool
Im crazy like a fool
What about it daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
(spoken) shes crazy about her daddy
Oh she believes in him
She loves her daddy
Shes crazy like a fool
What about it daddy cool
Im crazy like a fool
What about it daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
Daddy, daddy cool
song performed by Boney M.
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Daddy Cool
( Boney M Cover )
She's crazy like a fool
What about it Daddy Cool
I'm crazy like a fool
What about it Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
She's crazy like a fool
What about it Daddy Cool
I'm crazy like a fool
What about it Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
She's crazy about her daddy
Oh she believes in him
She loves her daddy
She's crazy like a fool
What about it Daddy Cool
I'm crazy like a fool
What about it Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
Daddy, Daddy Cool
song performed by Placebo
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!