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Jackals Gather Steal Prospect Spoils

jackals prowl through night hours
hungry opportunist sly night feeders
snigger snap at weak exposed heels

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Head Over Heels

Late at night in the park
I saw her slipping in the dark
For heaven's sake, what's going on?
It's like someone is here
Got to follow now
Like beeing in trance for me
The silence here
More than all the noise
Whispering in the dark head over heels
Overheated heart head over heels
Treating it so hard the spurting feels every day, every night
Whispering in the dark head over heels
Overheated heart head over heels
Treating it so hard the spurting feels, oh yeah!
Down on my knees, God help me please
Gotta know who's out in the dark
I've stopped my breath, can feel the hands
Could hear the sound of people making love
I surrender right now!
I've to be touched
I feel so much...
Whispering in the dark head over heels
Overheated heart head over heels
Treating it so hard the spurting feels every day, every night
Whispering in the dark head over heels
Overheated heart head over heels
Treating it so hard the spurting feels, oh yeah!
[Instrumental verse]
Whispering in the dark head over heels
Overheated heart head over heels
Treating it so hard the spurting feels every day, every night
Whispering in the dark head over heels
Overheated heart head over heels
Treating it so hard the spurting feels every day, every night!
Head over heels, head over heels
Head over heels every day, every night
Head over heels, head over heels
Head over heels every day, every night!
Head over heels!

song performed by Hammerfall
Added by Lucian Velea
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On The Prowl

Well night after lonely night
My head dont touch the bed
Im on a two-lane black-top
Cruisin in my rocket sled
Im on the prowl
Yeah Im on the prowl
Well Im looking for a gal, gal, gal
Hey, hey, hey, Im on the prowl
Theres only one thing that Im certain
Every mile, mile, mile
Keep a-searchin, serachin, serachin
For a wild, wild, child
Im on the prowl
Im on the prowl
Im looking for a gal, gal, gal
Hey, hey, hey, Im on the prowl
They got a name for dracula
And frankensteins son
They aint got no name now (mister)
For this monster (thing that) Ive become
Im on the prowl
Im on the prowl
Im looking for a gal, gal, gal
Hey, hey, hey, Im on the prowl
I keep lookin
I keep searchin
I keep searchin
I keep searchin
Only one thing that Im certain
Every mile, mile, mile
I keep searchin, searchin, searchin, searchin, searchin
In the morning I check my mirror
And I hang my head and cry
But at night I get a burning, burning, burning deep inside
Im on the prowl
Im on the prowl
Im looking for a gal, gal, gal
Hey, hey, hey, Im on the prowl
In the morning I check my mirror
And I hang my head and cry
But at night I get a burning, burning, burning, burning, burning. burning
Theres only one thing that Im certain
Every while, while, while
While my heart is hurtin, hurtin
Every mile, mile, mile
I gotta keep searchin, searchin, searchin, searchin, searchin

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Man On The Prowl

Im gonna take a little walk on the wild side
Im gonna loosen up and get me some gas
Im gonna get me some action
Go crazy, driving in the fast lane
My baby left me alone
She done me dirty and Im feeling so lonely
So come home, come home
If you dont youre gonna break my heart.
Man on the prowl
You better watch out
Im on the loose and Im looking for trouble
So look out - look out
Im a man on the prowl.
I dont wanna be a rock n roll steady
I just wanna be low down trash
I wanna go to the movies
All I wanna do is sit on my ass
So honey come home
Dont leave me when Im feeling so lonely
Come home - come home
If you dont youre gonna break my heart.
Man on the prowl
You better watch out
Im on the loose and Im looking for trouble
So look out - look out
Im a man on the prowl.
Well I keep dreaming about my baby
But it aint gonna get me nowhere
I wanna teach my baby dancin
But I aint no fred astaire.
So baby look out - Im a man on the prowl
Look out - man on the prowl - yeah
Baby, baby, baby look out - man on the prowl.
Baby come home
Im on the loose and Im looking for trouble
Baby come home - oh yeah
Cause Im a man on the prowl
So honey come home - come home
Cause Im a man on the prowl - yeah
Man on the prowl.

song performed by Queen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Man On The Prowel (12" Version)

I'm gonna take a little walk on the wild side
I'm gonna loosen up and get me some gas
I'm gonna get me some action
Go crazy, driving in the fast lane
My baby left me alone
She done me dirty and I'm feeling so lonely
So come home, come home
If you don't you're gonna break my heart.
Man on the prowl
You better watch out
I'm on the loose and I'm looking for trouble
So look out - look out
I'm a man on the prowl.
I don't wanna be a rock 'n' roll steady
I just wanna be low down trash
I wanna go to the movies
All I wanna do is sit on my ass
So honey come home
Don't leave me when I'm feeling so lonely
Come home - come home
If you don't you're gonna break my heart.
Man on the prowl
You better watch out
I'm on the loose and I'm looking for trouble
So look out - look out
I'm a man on the prowl.
Well I keep dreaming about my baby
But it ain't gonna get me nowhere
I wanna teach my baby dancin'
But I ain't no Fred Astaire.
So baby look out - I'm a man on the prowl
Look out - man on the prowl - yeah
Baby, baby, baby look out - man on the prowl.
Baby come home
I'm on the loose and I'm looking for trouble
Baby come home - oh yeah
Cause I'm a man on the prowl
So honey come home - come home
Cause I'm a man on the prowl - yeah
Man on the prowl.

song performed by Queen
Added by Lucian Velea
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I'd Like To Practice Harmony

I'd like to snap you back,
To a place,
We had!

I'd like to snap you back,
To a time before delusions.

I'd like to snap us back,
When we were happy and glad.

I'd like to snap us back!
And awaken from delusions.
I'd like to practice harmony...
And get more of that!

I'd like to snap us back!
And awaken from delusions.
I'd like to practice harmony...
And get more of that!

I'd like to snap you back,
To a place,
We had!
There was no substitution,
For the love we made.

I'd like to snap us back!
And awaken from delusions.
There was no substitution,
For the love we made.

I'd like to snap you back,
To a place,
We had!

I'd like to snap you back,
To a time before delusions.

I'd like to snap you back,
To a place,
We had!

I'd like to snap you back,
To a time before delusions.

I'd like to snap us back!
And awaken from delusions.
I'd like to practice harmony...
And get more of that!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Demons Eye

I dont mind just what you say.
I never heard you, baby, never heard you anyway.
I dont care what you do
Just so long as it aint me and you.
Sly, sly, sly like a demons eye.
Everythings good, I said, everythings fine.
You dont know, dont know its the end of your time.
How does it feel to be turned away?
Ive known it, baby, almost every day.
Sly, sly, sly like a demons eye.
I dont need you anymore,
I dont want you, baby, hanging round my door.
You slip and slide round my brain.
You think youre so clever, yeah, but you know youre insane.
Sly, sly, sly like a demons eye.
I d-d-dont mind just what you say.
I never heard you, baby, I never heard you anyway, no I didnt.
Everythings good, everythings fine.
You dont know its the end of your time.
Sly, sly, sly like the demons eye,
Like the demons eye.

song performed by Deep Purple
Added by Lucian Velea
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Oooo...Oooo-Oooo Wee Ow-ouch!

'I'm more dominant and not the weak one.
More dominant and not the weak one.
I'm more dominant and not the weak one.
More dominant and not the weak one.'

Oooo...
Oooo-Oooo wee ow-ouch!

'More dominant and not the weak one.
I'm more dominant and not the weak one.'

Oooo...
Oooo-Oooo wee ow-ouch!

She says I'm on a pacifier.
Unreliable with too many needs.
She says I'm heat under the sheets...
But she's the one who buys the food we eat.

She says I'm not dependable at all.
And by herself she does the best she can alone,
To make all ends meet!
When bill collectors call.
And,
She's more dominant and not the weak one.
More dominant and not the weak one.

Oooo...
Oooo-Oooo wee ow-ouch.
More dominant and not the weak one?
More dominant and not the weak one?

Submissive when she comes to the bed.
Prepared to get her needs met!
And I am ever ready.

I've lost my job and the kids are fed.
I do the best I can...
But I'm not making the bread.
And my ego's thinly spread.
When the work I've done is meager.
And the words I hear from her...
Are wrestling in my head.

'I'm more dominant and not the weak one.
More dominant and not the weak one.'
OW!
'...dominant and not the weak one.
More dominant and not the weak one.'
OW!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Strength in weakness

Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness

A typical Pauline sophism?
A typical Pauline syllogism?
A typical Pauline casuistry?
A typical Pauline homily.

Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness

Paul was disabled, you see
Was he blind? You ask
Was he lame? You ask
Was it a speech impediment?

Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness

Oh! He was strong in spirit
But weak in appearance
He can’t be our leader, they said
He’s an embarrassment

Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness

Paul said: “Yes, I am weak
But God’s strength is made perfect
In my weakness not in my strength
So up the weak and down the strong! (my words!)

Paul’s thorn in the flesh
When I am weak,
Then I am strong
Strength in weakness

We are all weak in some way
Weak in our words
Weak in our walk
Weak in our talk

[...] Read more

poem by James Hart
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The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part III.

Much malice, mingled with a little wit,
Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ;
Because the muse has peopled Caledon
With panthers, bears, and wolves, and beasts unknown,
As if we were not stocked with monsters of our own.
Let Æsop answer, who has set to view
Such kinds as Greece and Phrygia never knew;
And Mother Hubbard, in her homely dress,
Has sharply blamed a British lioness;
That queen, whose feast the factious rabble keep,
Exposed obscenely naked, and asleep.
Led by those great examples, may not I
The wonted organs of their words supply?
If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then
For brutes to claim the privilege of men.
Others our Hind of folly will indite,
To entertain a dangerous guest by night.
Let those remember, that she cannot die,
Till rolling time is lost in round eternity;
Nor need she fear the Panther, though untamed,
Because the Lion's peace was now proclaimed;
The wary savage would not give offence,
To forfeit the protection of her prince;
But watched the time her vengeance to complete,
When all her furry sons in frequent senate met;
Meanwhile she quenched her fury at the flood,
And with a lenten salad cooled her blood.
Their commons, though but coarse, were nothing scant,
Nor did their minds an equal banquet want.
For now the Hind, whose noble nature strove
To express her plain simplicity of love,
Did all the honours of her house so well,
No sharp debates disturbed the friendly meal.
She turned the talk, avoiding that extreme,
To common dangers past, a sadly-pleasing theme;
Remembering every storm which tossed the state,
When both were objects of the public hate,
And dropt a tear betwixt for her own children's fate.
Nor failed she then a full review to make
Of what the Panther suffered for her sake;
Her lost esteem, her truth, her loyal care,
Her faith unshaken to an exiled heir,
Her strength to endure, her courage to defy,
Her choice of honourable infamy.
On these, prolixly thankful, she enlarged;
Then with acknowledgments herself she charged;
For friendship, of itself an holy tie,
Is made more sacred by adversity.
Now should they part, malicious tongues would say,
They met like chance companions on the way,

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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Quatrains Of Life

What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?

What did it bring me that I loved it, even
With joy before it and that dream of Heaven,
Boyhood's first rapture of requited bliss,
What did it give? What ever has it given?

'Let me recount the value of my days,
Call up each witness, mete out blame and praise,
Set life itself before me as it was,
And--for I love it--list to what it says.

Oh, I will judge it fairly. Each old pleasure
Shared with dead lips shall stand a separate treasure.
Each untold grief, which now seems lesser pain,
Shall here be weighed and argued of at leisure.

I will not mark mere follies. These would make
The count too large and in the telling take
More tears than I can spare from seemlier themes
To cure its laughter when my heart should ache.

Only the griefs which are essential things,
The bitter fruit which all experience brings;
Nor only of crossed pleasures, but the creed
Men learn who deal with nations and with kings.

All shall be counted fairly, griefs and joys,
Solely distinguishing 'twixt mirth and noise,
The thing which was and that which falsely seemed,
Pleasure and vanity, man's bliss and boy's.

So I shall learn the reason of my trust
In this poor life, these particles of dust
Made sentient for a little while with tears,
Till the great ``may--be'' ends for me in ``must.''

My childhood? Ah, my childhood! What of it
Stripped of all fancy, bare of all conceit?
Where is the infancy the poets sang?
Which was the true and which the counterfeit?

I see it now, alas, with eyes unsealed,
That age of innocence too well revealed.
The flowers I gathered--for I gathered flowers--
Were not more vain than I in that far field.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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I Get Weak

When Im with you
I shake inside
My hearts all tangled up
My tongue is tied its crazy
Cant walk, cant talk, cant eat, cant sleep
Oh, Im in love, oh Im in deep cuz baby
With a kiss you can strip me defenseless
With a touch I completely lose control
til all thats left of my strength is a memory, wo...
I get weak when I look at you
Weak when we touch
I cant speak when I look in your eyes
I get weak when youre next to me
Weak from this love
I cant speak when I look in your eyes
I get weak
Convincing eyes, persuasive lips
The helpless heart just cant resist their power
You know youve got a hold over me
You know youve got me where I want to be cuz lover
Like a wave you keep pulling me under
How Ill ever get out of this I dont know
I just know theres just no way to fight it, wo...
I get weak when I look at you
Weak when we touch
I cant speak when I look in your eyes
I get weak when youre next to me
Weak from this love
Im in deep when I look in your eyes
I get weak I get weak I get weak
Just a kiss you can strip me defenseless
Just a touch I completely lose control
til all thats left of my strength is a memory, wo...
I get weak when I look at you
Weak when we touch
I cant speak when I look in your eyes
I get weak when youre next to me
Weak from this love
I cant speak when I look in your eyes
I get weak I get weak I get weak

song performed by Belinda Carlisle
Added by Lucian Velea
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Weak

(1) Lost in time
I can't count the words
I said when I thought
They went unheard
All of these harsh thought
So unkind
"Cause I wanted you
I wanted you
And now I sit here
I'm all alone
So here sits a bloody mess
Tears fly home
A circle of angels
Deep in war
'Cause I wanted you
I wanted you
Weak as I am
No tears for you
Weak as I am
No tears for you
Deep as I am
I'm no one's fool
Weak as I am
So what am I now
But love's last home
I'm all of the soft words
I once owned
If I opened my heart
There'd be no space for air
'cause I wanted you
I wanted you
Weak as I am
No tears for you
Weak as I am
I'm too much for you
Deep as I am
I'm no one's fool
Weak as I am
With this changing soul
In this weak old heart
Oh baby, ain't I too much for you
With this changing soul
In this weak old heart
Oh baby, ain't I too much for you
[Repeat (1)]
Weak as I am
No tears for you
Weak as 'I'm nobody's fool
Deep as I am
No tears for you

[...] Read more

song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
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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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Hell On High Heels

Bashful betty, such a bondage brat
Dressed in latex and coated in sewer rat
A serpents tongue calculating mind
Gets top billing for her hip shake divine
Look to the sky
No rain in sight
Better wear your rubber boys
If betty is your date tonight
Honey, its how ya makin money
Boys call ya
Hell on high heels
Baby, the way ya walk it talk it
Town calls ya
Hell on high heels
Sexy suki, little geisha girl
Given every samurai a twirl
An hiv v.i.p.
Backseat panties down around her knees
Shes got no money
Cant pay the rent
Its a sunny day now baby
Every night on her back thats spent
Honey, its how ya makin money
Boys call ya
Hell on high heels
Baby, the way ya walk it talk it
Town calls ya
Hell on high heels
Honey, its how ya makin money
Boys call ya
Hell on high heels
Baby, the way ya walk it talk it
Town calls ya
Hell on high heels
Honey, its how ya makin money
Boys call ya
Hell on high heels
Baby, the way ya walk it talk it
Town calls ya
Hell on high heels
Honey, its how ya makin money
Boys call ya
Hell on high heels
Baby, the way ya walk it talk it
Town calls ya
Hell on high heels

song performed by Motley Crue
Added by Lucian Velea
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Draggin My Heels

(clarke / sylvester / hicks)
First at the gate post but the last one through
I hung around far too long for you
Left out the game left out the deal
Stupid of me to be draggin my heels
Oh oh oh draggin my heels
Oh oh oh draggin my heels, heels
Time waits for no one and I wasted my time
Got to the crossroads but took the wrong sign
Id go too far didnt know how shed feel
Stupid of me to be draggin my heels
Oh oh oh draggin my heels
Oh oh oh draggin my heels, heels
If I had the chance to go back again,
I wouldnt do the same
I learned by mistakes
Id be on my knees Id be there to please
Id be anything you want me to be
You want to be
Verse 1
Heels, heels

song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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Song of Wink Star

The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages
story and text © Raj Arumugam, June 2008

☼ ☼

☼ Preamble

Come…children all, children of all ages…sit close and listen…
Come and listen to this happy story of the stars and of life…
Come children of the universe, children of all nations and of all races, and of all climates and of all kinds of space and dimensions and universes…
Come, dearest children of all beings of the living universe, come and listen to The Song of Wink Star…

Come and listen to this story, this happy story…listen, as the story itself sings to you…

Sit close then, and listen to the story that was not made by any, or written by a poet, or fashioned by grandfathers and grandmothers warming themselves at the fire of burning stars…

O dearest children all, come and listen to the story that lives
of itself, and that glows bright and happy….

Come…children all, children of all ages, come and listen to this happy story, the story so natural and smooth as life, as it sings itself to you….

☼ The Song of Wink Star
a happy story for children of all ages

☼ 1

Night Child, always so light and gentle, slept on a flower.
And every night, before he went to sleep, he would look up at the sky.
He would look at the eastern corner, five o’clock.

And there he would see all the stars in near and distant galaxies that were only visible to the People of Star Eyes.

Night Child was one of the People of Star Eyes. And so he could see the stars. And of all the stars he could see, he loved to watch Wink Star.

Wink Star twinkled and winked and laughed.
Every night Wink Star did that. Winked and laughed.

[...] Read more

poem by Raj Arumugam
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Gettin Hungry

I wake up in the mornin just to work all through the day
That sun can get so hot that you can sweat your strength away
And ooooohhhhhhhh come the night time
Gettin hungry
Hungry for my kind o woman
Im gettin hungry
Soon I gotta find me a woman
Im gettin hungry
Searchin for a pretty girl
But I still get up in the mornin
Though its so hard all day long
If it werent for the love of a woman
I dont think Id continue on
And oooohhhhh come the night time
Gettin hungry
Hungry for my kind o woman
Im gettin hungry
Soon I gotta find me a woman
Im gettin hungry
Searchin for a pretty girl
Im gettin hungry
Hungry for my kind of woman
Hungry
Hungry for my kind o woman
Im gettin hungry
Soon I gotta find me a woman
Im gettin hungry
Searchin for a pretty girl

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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I have been Hungry - after Emily Dickinson - I had been hungry all the years

I have been hungry through the years –
undernourished, incomplete -
awaiting in this vale of tears
for welcome symbiosis sweet.

I have been hungry! - vision clears
when appetite the verb to eat
reformulates as eyes and ears
attune to one heart's precious beat.

I have been hungry, it appears,
too much let slip where lip might meet
stained lip which, vain, in other spheres,
mistook itself for heart replete.

I have been hungry, - atmospheres
apart from others. Games repeat
the search to feel through vain veneers,
protecting self at cost of self-deceit.

I have been hungry, love's arrears
now heartbeat love pursue - retreat
impossible. Although change nears
the piper pays for past conceit.

I have been hungry, - hope now nears
puts trust in touch with touch whose heat
dissolves restraints when heart heart hears.
Twinned echo intimate may greet
an understanding which endears
self to self through paraclete
who hunger heals as fade false fears,
who braids heart, head, to spirit's seat...

I have been hungry, - change of gears -
intimacy, warmth, defeat
sends packing! Lacking naught, WE greet
long looked for happiness complete.

© Jonathan Robin – robi3_0655 parody written 9 December 2001 after Emily Dickinson I Have Been Hungry

I HAD BEEN HUNGRY ALL THE YEARS

I had been hungry, all the Years—
My Noon had Come—to dine—
I trembling drew the Table near—
And touched the Curious Wine—

'Twas this on Tables I had seen—
When turning, hungry, Home

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Dream

'TWAS summer eve; the changeful beams still play'd
On the fir-bark and through the beechen shade;
Still with soft crimson glow'd each floating cloud;
Still the stream glitter'd where the willow bow'd;
Still the pale moon sate silent and alone,
Nor yet the stars had rallied round her throne;
Those diamond courtiers, who, while yet the West
Wears the red shield above his dying breast,
Dare not assume the loss they all desire,
Nor pay their homage to the fainter fire,
But wait in trembling till the Sun's fair light
Fading, shall leave them free to welcome Night!

So when some Chief, whose name through realms afar
Was still the watchword of succesful war,
Met by the fatal hour which waits for all,
Is, on the field he rallied, forced to fall,
The conquerors pause to watch his parting breath,
Awed by the terrors of that mighty death;
Nor dare the meed of victory to claim,
Nor lift the standard to a meaner name,
Till every spark of soul hath ebb'd away,
And leaves what was a hero, common clay.

Oh! Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth
To dim enchantments; melting Heaven with Earth,
Leaving on craggy hills and rumning streams
A softness like the atmosphere of dreams;
Thy hour to all is welcome! Faint and sweet
Thy light falls round the peasant's homeward feet,
Who, slow returning from his task of toil,
Sees the low sunset gild the cultured soil,
And, tho' such radliance round him brightly glows,
Marks the small spark his cottage window throws.
Still as his heart forestals his weary pace,
Fondly he dreams of each familiar face,
Recalls the treasures of his narrow life,
His rosy children, and his sunburnt wife,

To whom his coming is the chief event
Of simple days in cheerful labour spent.
The rich man's chariot hath gone whirling past,
And those poor cottagers have only cast
One careless glance on all that show of pride,
Then to their tasks turn'd quietly aside;
But him they wait for, him they welcome home,
Fond sentinels look forth to see him come;
The fagot sent for when the fire grew dim,
The frugal meal prepared, are all for him;
For him the watching of that sturdy boy,

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poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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