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Interpretation

Somewhere within your loving look I sense,
Without the least intention to deceive,
Without suspicion, without evidence,
Somewhere within your heart the heart to leave.

poem by Vikram Seth
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Under Suspicion

(d linde/ a rush)
Well, Ive been mistreated
Been lied to and cheated
Misused and abused
Like something that you throw away
First you fill me with thunder
Then you let me go under
You can run, you can hide
But you aint gonna get away
Coz youre under suspicion
Of leaving the scene of a broken heart
Under suspicion
Of a hit and run love affair
You aint got a conscience
And you made me the victim
Of a cruel and unusual crime
Now youre under suspicion
Under suspicion
Under suspicion
Under suspicion of a hit and run love affair
Hey yeah yeah
Whoo etc
No matter where you be going
I got ways of knowing
And somewhere down the line
Youre gonna have to pay
Hey
Coz youre under suspicion
Of leaving the scene of a broken heart yeah
Under suspicion
Of a hit and run love affair
You aint got a conscience
And you made me the victim
Of a cruel and unusual crime
Now youre under suspicion
Under suspicion
Under suspicion
Yeah under suspicion of a hit and run love affair
Yeah yeah yeah
Under suspicion
Under suspicion
Aint got no where to run coz youre under suspicion
Under suspicion
Under suspicion
Under suspicion
Of leavin the scene of a broken heart
Under suspicion
Yeah under suspicion of a hit and run love affair

song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Believer's Principles : Chap. IV.

Faith and Sense Natural, compared and distinguished.

When Abram's body, Sarah's womb,
Were ripe for nothing but the tomb,
Exceeding old, and wholly dead,
Unlike to bear the promis'd seed:

Faith said, 'I shall an Isaac see;'
'No, no,' said Sense, 'it cannot be;'
Blind Reason, to augment the strife,
Adds, 'How can death engender life?'

My heart is like a rotten tomb,
More dead than ever Sarah's womb;
O! can the promis'd seed of grace
Spring forth from such a barren place?

Sense gazing but on flinty rocks,
My hope and expectation chokes:
But could I, skill'd in Abram's art,
O'erlook my dead and barren heart;

And build my hope on nothing less
That divine pow'r and faithfulness;
Soon would I find him raise up sons
To Abram, out of rocks and stones.

Faith acts as busy boatmen do,
Who backward look and forward row;
It looks intent to things unseen,
Thinks objects visible too mean.

Sense thinks it madness thus to steer,
And only trusts its eye and ear;
Into faith's boat dare thrust its oar,
And put it further from the shore.

Faith does alone the promise eye;
Sense won't believe unless it see;
Nor can it trust the divine guide,
Unless it have both wind and tide.

Faith thinks the promise sure and good;
Sense doth depend on likelihood;
Faith ev'n in storms believes the seers;
Sense calls all men, ev'n prophets, liars.

Faith uses means, but rests on none;
Sense sails when outward means are gone:

[...] Read more

poem by Ralph Erskine
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They Themselves Deceive

When people sell with a doing,
To those who become sold...
They themselves deceive.
With a doing done they say they do,
They themselves deceive.
They themselves deceive.
Since many possess college degrees....
In the hopes to receive achievement to get,
Competence with a common sense...
But they themselves deceive...
With minds feeding on 'bling' and greed.!

People like this are not taught how to feel,
A difference between what is fake and what's real.
They themselves deceive.
With a thinking they do this to other people,
They themselves deceive.
People like this are not taught to assess,
Correct ways to live and with honesty best.
People who cheat find it weak to confess.
They themselves deceive,
Unknowing it with doing!
They themselves deceive.

They themselves deceive!
With a making of lies to tell and sell.
They themselves deceive!
And a manifesting of this done too well.
They themselves deceive!
They themselves deceive!
They themselves deceive!
With a making of lies to tell and sell.
They themselves deceive.
With a manifesting of this done too well.

They themselves deceive.
With a growing of this to be known and shown.
They themselves deceive.
With a growing of this to be known and shown.
They themselves deceive.
They themselves deceive.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Under Suspicion

Rush/linde
Well Ive been mistreated
Lied to and cheated
Misled and abused
Like an old rag you threw away
First you fill me with thunder
Then you let me go under
You can run, you can hide
But you aint gonna get away
Cos youre under suspicion
Of leavin the scene of a broken heart
Under suspicion of a hit and run love affair
Well you aint got a conscience
And youve made me the victim
Of a cruel and unusual crime
Now youre under suspicion, under suspicion
Under suspicion of a hit and run love affair
No matter where youll be going
I got ways of knowing
Somewhere down the line
Youre gonna pay
Cos youre under suspicion
Of leavin the scene of a broken heart
Under suspicion of a hit and run love affair
Well you aint got a conscience
And youve made me the victim
Of a cruel and unusual crime
Now youre under suspicion, under suspicion
Under suspicion of a hit and run love affair
Under suspicion,under suspicion
Under suspicion,under suspicion....

song performed by Roy Orbison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Through It All Theres You

(robert palmer)
You know the future will soon be past
Climb on first, get off last
Im trying to push my stake to my hips
Where Ill feel the benefit
Through it all theres you
Loving me baby
Through it all theres you
Loving me girl
Through it all theres you
Loving me baby
Through it all theres you
Loving me girl
Grinning like a break
Focusing my way
Im trying to push my stake to my hips
Where Ill feel the benefit
Through it all theres you
Loving me baby
Through it all theres you
Loving me girl
Through it all theres you
Loving me baby
Through it all theres you
Loving me girl
Grinning like a break
Focusing my way
Theres a place I know we can take
Make you want, make you want the rest of it
Through it all theres you
Loving me baby
Through it all theres you
Loving me girl
Through it all theres you
Loving me baby
Through it all theres you
Loving me girl
Future will soon be past
Climb on first, get off last
Theres a place I where we can take
Make you want the rest of it
Through it all theres you
Loving me baby
Through it all theres you
Loving me girl
Through it all theres you
Loving me baby
Through it all theres you
Loving me girl
Makes you want to

[...] Read more

song performed by Robert Palmer
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Suspicion

Ain't it like the sun to never shine
And leave you in the dark
Ain't it like the ones we left behind
Or were they moving on
Getting used to all alone
Just pretending you was here
Voices tearing through the halls
Get used to it kid
Suspicion, shame on the things we did
Suspicion, stealing and lying to prove
Suspicion, it's cold and dark as a well
But it's just suspicion
Ain't it like the gals who want to kiss
To be a friend to you
Ain't it like the string of consequence
To put the faith in you
All I want to do is buy some time
For the sake of memory
All I want to do is to try
To hold on to these things
Suspicion, haunting the streets of time
Suspicion, boys they really got us this time
Suspicion, it's cold and dark as a well
Suspicion
For all the things we need
We only want the ones
We couldn't seem to keep
We hurt the ones we love
We hurt the ones we love
We hurt the ones we love
Get used to it kid
Suspicion, haunting the streets of time
Suspicion, boy they really got us this time
Suspicion, shame on the things we did
Suspicion, get used to kid

song performed by Ryan Adams
Added by Lucian Velea
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Puzzling Evidence

You got the cbs...!
And the abc...!
You got time and newsweek!
Well, theyre the same to me!
Now dont you wanna get right with me?
(puzzling evidence)
I hope you get evrything you need
(puzzling evidence)
Puzzling evidence
Puzzling evidence
Puzzling evidence
Done hardened in your heart
Hardened in your heart.
...alright!u
Now I am the gun
And you are the bullet
I got the power and glory!
(puzzling)
And the money to buy it!
(puzzling)
Got your gulf and western and your mastercard
(puzzling evidence)
Got what you wanted, lost what you had
(puzzling evidence)
Im seeing
Puzzling evidence
Puzzling evidence
Puzzling evidence
Done hardened in your heart
Its hardened up your heart.
...alright!
Huh...huh...huh...huh...huh...huh...huh...u
Well, Im puzzling (huh!)
Im puzzling (huh!)
Im puzzling (huh!)
Puzzling (huh!)
Im puzzling (huh!)
Woo...Im puzzling (huh!)
Sometimes Im puzzling! (huh!)
See the little children! (puzzlin)
And the family! (puzzlin)
Gonna live together! (puzzlin)
Take them home with me! (puzzlin)
Well I hope youre happy with what youve made
(puzzling evidence)
In the land of the free and the home of the brave
(puzzling evidence)
Im seeing
Puzzling evidence
Puzzling evidence

[...] Read more

song performed by Talking Heads
Added by Lucian Velea
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Puzzlin' Evidence

You got the CBS...!
And the ABC...!
You got Time and Newsweek!
Well, they're the same to me!
Now don't you wanna get right with me?
(Puzzling Evidence)
I hope you get ev'rything you need
(Puzzling Evidence)
Puzzling Evidence
Puzzling Evidence
Puzzling Evidence
Done hardened in your heart
Hardened in your heart.
...Alright!
Now I am the gun
And you are the bullet
I got the power and glory!
(Puzzling)
And the money to buy it!
(Puzzling)
Got your Gulf and Western and your MasterCard
(Puzzling Evidence)
Got what you wanted, lost what you had
(Puzzling Evidence)
I'm seeing
Puzzling Evidence
Puzzling Evidence
Puzzling Evidence
Done hardened in your heart
It's hardened up your heart.
...alright!
Huh...huh...huh...huh...huh...huh...huh...
Well, I'm puzzling (Huh!)
I'm puzzling (Huh!)
I'm puzzling (Huh!)
Puzzling (Huh!)
I'm puzzling (Huh!)
Woo...I'm puzzling (Huh!)
Sometimes I'm puzzling! (Huh!)
See the little children! (Puzzlin')
And the family! (Puzzlin')
Gonna live together! (Puzzlin')
Take them home with me! (Puzzlin')
Well I hope you're happy with what you've made
(Puzzling Evidence)
In the land of the free and the home of the brave
(Puzzling Evidence)
I'm seeing
Puzzling Evidence
Puzzling Evidence

[...] Read more

song performed by Talking Heads
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Victories Of Love. Book II

I
From Jane To Her Mother

Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
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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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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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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
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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)
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[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
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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
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It Makes More Sense

It makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.

It makes more sense,
To walk away than to be petty.
And it makes more sense,
To prevent a thumping headache.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Many fools love to do.

And it makes more sense,
Stopping something not to start.
Yes it makes more sense,
Not to tear things all apart.
Or bring up filthy garbage,
Knowing it is just a farce.
And it makes more sense,
Not to argue with a fool.
Knowing this is something done,
Fools love to do.

And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.

And it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To chase all bitterness away.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.

Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.
And it makes more sense,
To say, 'You're right' than build a hate.
Knowing that tomorrow promises another day.
Yes it makes more sense,
To keep the peace with every neighbor.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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An Essay on Criticism

Part I

INTRODUCTION. That it is as great a fault to judge ill as to write ill, and a more dangerous one to the public. That a true Taste is as rare to be found as a true Genius. That most men are born with some Taste, but spoiled by false education. The multitude of Critics, and causes of them. That we are to study our own Taste, and know the limits of it. Nature the best guide of judgment. Improved by Art and rules, which are but methodized Nature. Rules derived from the practice of the ancient poets. That therefore the ancients are necessary to be studied by a Critic, particularly Homer and Virgil. Of licenses, and the use of them by the ancients. Reverence due to the ancients, and praise of them.

'Tis hard to say if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But of the two less dangerous is th'offence
To tire our patience than mislead our sense:
Some few in that, but numbers err in this;
Ten censure wrong for one who writes amiss;
A fool might once himself alone expose;
Now one in verse makes many more in prose.

'Tis with our judgments as our watches, none
Go just alike, yet each believes his own.
In Poets as true Genius is but rare,
True Taste as seldom is the Critic's share;
Both must alike from Heav'n derive their light,
These born to judge, as well as those to write.
Let such teach others who themselves excel,
And censure freely who have written well;
Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true,
But are not Critics to their judgment too?

Yet if we look more closely, we shall find
Most have the seeds of judgment in their mind:
Nature affords at least a glimm'ring light;
The lines, tho' touch'd but faintly, are drawn right:
But as the slightest sketch, if justly traced,
Is by ill col'ring but the more disgraced,
So by false learning is good sense defaced:
Some are bewilder'd in the maze of schools,
And some made coxcombs Nature meant but fools:
In search of wit these lose their common sense,
And then turn Critics in their own defence:
Each burns alike, who can or cannot write,
Or with a rival's or an eunuch's spite.
All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.
If Mævius scribble in Apollo's spite,
There are who judge still worse than he can write.

Some have at first for Wits, then Poets pass'd;
Turn'd Critics next, and prov'd plain Fools at last.
Some neither can for Wits nor Critics pass,
As heavy mules are neither horse nor ass.
Those half-learn'd witlings, numerous in our isle,
As half-form'd insects on the banks of Nile;
Unfinish'd things, one knows not what to call,

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Pope
Added by Poetry Lover
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Under Suspicion

(b. tyler/p. hopkins/p. oxendale)
Producer for bonnie: jim steinman
I put my trust in you cos Im not the suspicious kind
But it seems to me that theres someone on your mind
And maybe Im wrong and maybe theres some mistake
But I wont take any chances, Im watching every move you make
I never felt so scared and helpless before
I wish I could believe in you but I just gotta be sure
Youre under suspicion all of the time
Youre under suspicion all of the time
When we talk I can see you cant look me straight in the eye
Whats all the secrecy, you got me wondering why
Is it someone you met that could make you regret your decision
How could you forget all our plans and all our ambitions
Dont try to pull the wool right over my eyes
You think youre pretty smart but I can see right through your disguise
Youre under suspicion all of the time
Youre under suspicion all of the time
Instrumental
Youre under suspicion all of the time
Youre under suspicion all of the time
Youre under suspicion all of the time
Youre under suspicion
Instrumental
Youre under suspicion all of the time
Youre under suspicion all of the time

song performed by Bonnie Tyler
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ooh Baby

Oohbaby
Oohbaby
Oohoohooh
Since the day I saw you, baby, I knew you were for me
Always all by myself, I sought your company
All the fellas told me that you played me for a fool
Said I wouldnt hang out, id go home right after school
What did I do to you
To make you feel this way
You said youd be my baby
Never go away, go away
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohoohooh) how could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
Spent all my time, baby, just working on my form
Trying to improve myself so I could give you more
You told me I was turning out the way that I should be
How could I know that you would turn your back on me
What did I do to you
To make you feel this way
You said youd be my baby
Never go away, go away
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohoohooh) how could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohoohooh) how could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
Ooh, baby, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
How could you leave
Ooh, baby, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
How could you leave
How could you leave
How could you leave
How could you leave
Ooh, baby, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, baby, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
How could you leave
How could you leave

[...] Read more

song performed by New Edition
Added by Lucian Velea
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Leave Me Alone

Everybodys gonna try to tell you what to do, uhh-haa
And never, never, never, never, let it be said that its true
Oh-oh, hey, give it to my baby
Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me alone
Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me alone
Theyre the kind of people thatll always let you down
I know you, too, you dont ever give it a frown
Oh, do it, do it, now, do it, do it
Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me alone
Get down, baby
Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me alone
Oh, come now, leave me alone, mam, okay, baby
Oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha
Dont you know some people, they just dont know when to stop
Give it to me, now
They cant tell the floor from the ceiling or the top
And therere other types, they always make you wait
And theyre always the first to say, the state you come from
Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me alone
Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me alone
Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me forever
Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me forever
Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me alone, oh
Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me alone
Leave me alone
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha, oh, oh, yeah
Ah-ha-ha

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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