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The Princess Insulted

The beautificaeous Princess
dulling and uxorious
candorfed to mumpy ump
in rinnegain of his
daring drain

Still not appeased how
she bellosified intonatiously
borogoves scaldoffin
the head no less, rightly

Whence came the gribber
the winchamp swinging by
terrophized crowdzes hurling
epitaths of condored mustard

Nonetheless she blintstered
the offering, blinstered the scacrifice
scarfaced the giver's trouph
since knot appeased her haughtzes

Alzis doneis, the endof
with gnaut to shove in
on or out but for with whomsoever
standing - dead salute nor I

poem by Winston T. Gylles
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The Princess Betrothed To The King Of Garba

WHAT various ways in which a thing is told
Some truth abuse, while others fiction hold;
In stories we invention may admit;
But diff'rent 'tis with what historick writ;
Posterity demands that truth should then
Inspire relation, and direct the pen.

ALACIEL'S story's of another kind,
And I've a little altered it, you'll find;
Faults some may see, and others disbelieve;
'Tis all the same:--'twill never make me grieve;
Alaciel's mem'ry, it is very clear,
Can scarcely by it lose; there's naught to fear.
Two facts important I have kept in view,
In which the author fully I pursue;
The one--no less than eight the belle possessed,
Before a husband's sight her eyes had blessed;
The other is, the prince she was to wed
Ne'er seemed to heed this trespass on his bed,
But thought, perhaps, the beauty she had got
Would prove to any one a happy lot.

HOWE'ER this fair, amid adventures dire,
More sufferings shared than malice could desire;
Though eight times, doubtless, she exchanged her knight
No proof, that she her spouse was led to slight;
'Twas gratitude, compassion, or good will;
The dread of worse;--she'd truly had her fill;
Excuses just, to vindicate her fame,
Who, spite of troubles, fanned the monarch's flame:
Of eight the relict, still a maid received ;--
Apparently, the prince her pure believed;
For, though at times we may be duped in this,
Yet, after such a number--strange to miss!
And I submit to those who've passed the scene,
If they, to my opinion, do not lean.

THE king of Alexandria, Zarus named,
A daughter had, who all his fondness claimed,
A star divine Alaciel shone around,
The charms of beauty's queen were in her found;
With soul celestial, gracious, good, and kind,
And all-accomplished, all-complying mind.

THE, rumour of her worth spread far and wide,
The king of Garba asked her for his bride,
And Mamolin (the sov'reign of the spot,)
To other princes had a pref'rence got.

THE fair, howe'er, already felt the smart

[...] Read more

poem by La Fontaine
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Margo Wants The Mustard

I watch her move up and down the beach, well
The fellows drool, but shes out of their reach, and
These are not a part of the scheme, but
Let them hope, and let them dream
So many dreams in the mind of the men, well
Come to life through a good one love
Margo walks in another place, well
Its in their minds, and its on her face
Some like it cool
Some like it hot
Some give a little
Some give a lot
Some wanna give everything that theyve got
Margo wants the mustard
Yeh, she needs a little spice
Margo wants the mustard
Then shell spread it on real light
Margo wants the mustard
Yeh, shell never ever stop
Margo wants the mustard
It will take her to the top
Shes only got to smile that way when
It lifts your heart, throws your troubles away, and
When she moves, well Ive got to say
This rhythm method goes a long, long way
Its in the bones, and its in the head
This precious thing has got to be fed, well
I shouldnt say, but it must be said
Its even better when its in your bed
Some like it cool
Some like it hot
Some give a little
Some give a lot
Some wanna give everything that theyve got
Margo wants the mustard
Yeh, she needs a little spice
Margo wants the mustard
Then shell spread it on real light
Margo wants the mustard
Shell never ever stop
Margo wants the mustard
It will take her to the top
(a wop bop a loo mop, a lop bom bom)
[classic es solo]
I cant explain what she motivates, but
Its all around, but its hard to relate
It must be close to heavenly bliss though
How I wish I could follow this and
Splashing out all over the place
Pour it all over the human race, yeh

[...] Read more

song performed by 10 Cc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Daring Night

In the daring night when all the
Stars are shining bright
Squeeze me dont leave me
In the daring night
Galactic swirl in the firmament tonight
Oh with the lord of the dance
With the lord of the dance
In the daring night
I see orion and the hunters
Standing by the light of the moon
In the daring night
In the daring night
And the heart and the soul
As we look up in awe and wonder at the heavens
Oh and we go with the lord of the dance
With the lord of the dance, the lord of the dance
In the daring night
In the daring night when all the stars are
Shining bright
Oh baby squeeze me dont leave me in the daring night
In the firmament we move, we move and we live
And we have our being
Squeeze me dont leave, leave me in the daring night
In the firmament we move and galactic swirl
And we live and we breathe and have our being
Baby in the daring light
Darling squeeze me squeeze me
Dont ever leave me in the daring night
When all the stars are shining bright
And dont let go, and dont let go
Dont let go dont let go in the daring night
And we move and we move, and we move and we move
Baby dont let go in the daring night
In the daring night when all the stars are
Shining bright
Baby squeeze me dont leave me in the daring night
Capture it all oh with the lord of the dance
Oh with the lord of the dance in the daring night
With the lord of the dance in the daring night
With the lord of the dance and the great goddess
Of the eternal wisdom
Standing by the light of the moon in the daring night
And the bodies move and we sweat
And have our being
Dont leave me in the daring night
In the daring night when all the stars are
Shining bright
Squeeze me dont leave me
Baby in the daring night
Squeeze me dont leave me etc.

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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On The Cork Hurlers Strike

The best hurlers will not be playing for the Rebel County this year
At least not under coach Gerald McCarthy for Cork fans such sad news to hear
The Liam McCarthy Cup this year won't be coming to the hurling City by the Lee
Without Cork's best hurling only half dressed as hurling fans all would agree
Cork hurling fans not very happy to them hurling more than a game
Some blame the hurlers and others blame Gerald and others the County Board blame
Gerald has no notion of resigning and Cork's best under him will not play
And the loser is the game of hurling and that does seem a sad thing to say
Cork will have a hurling team in the League and All Ireland Championship but their best the red jersey will not wear
And for any hope of sporting success as we do know a team would need every top player
And in 2009 Cork will only make up the numbers though the game of hurling will go on
For hurling does live on in Ireland though great players to and from the game have come and gone
In 2009 Cork will not have their best team at least now it's looking that way
In a sad time for Cork and for hurling in Ireland and that seems a sad thing to say.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Cap And Bells; Or, The Jealousies: A Faery Tale -- Unfinished

I.
In midmost Ind, beside Hydaspes cool,
There stood, or hover'd, tremulous in the air,
A faery city 'neath the potent rule
Of Emperor Elfinan; fam'd ev'rywhere
For love of mortal women, maidens fair,
Whose lips were solid, whose soft hands were made
Of a fit mould and beauty, ripe and rare,
To tamper his slight wooing, warm yet staid:
He lov'd girls smooth as shades, but hated a mere shade.

II.
This was a crime forbidden by the law;
And all the priesthood of his city wept,
For ruin and dismay they well foresaw,
If impious prince no bound or limit kept,
And faery Zendervester overstept;
They wept, he sin'd, and still he would sin on,
They dreamt of sin, and he sin'd while they slept;
In vain the pulpit thunder'd at the throne,
Caricature was vain, and vain the tart lampoon.

III.
Which seeing, his high court of parliament
Laid a remonstrance at his Highness' feet,
Praying his royal senses to content
Themselves with what in faery land was sweet,
Befitting best that shade with shade should meet:
Whereat, to calm their fears, he promis'd soon
From mortal tempters all to make retreat,--
Aye, even on the first of the new moon,
An immaterial wife to espouse as heaven's boon.

IV.
Meantime he sent a fluttering embassy
To Pigmio, of Imaus sovereign,
To half beg, and half demand, respectfully,
The hand of his fair daughter Bellanaine;
An audience had, and speeching done, they gain
Their point, and bring the weeping bride away;
Whom, with but one attendant, safely lain
Upon their wings, they bore in bright array,
While little harps were touch'd by many a lyric fay.

V.
As in old pictures tender cherubim
A child's soul thro' the sapphir'd canvas bear,
So, thro' a real heaven, on they swim
With the sweet princess on her plumag'd lair,
Speed giving to the winds her lustrous hair;

[...] Read more

poem by John Keats
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The Bakchesarian Fountain

A TALE OF THE TAURIDE.
Mute sat Giray, with downcast eye,
As though some spell in sorrow bound him,
His slavish courtiers thronging nigh,
In sad expectance stood around him.
The lips of all had silence sealed,
Whilst, bent on him, each look observant,
Saw grief's deep trace and passion fervent
Upon his gloomy brow revealed.
But the proud Khan his dark eye raising,
And on the courtiers fiercely gazing,
Gave signal to them to begone!
The chief, unwitnessed and alone,
Now yields him to his bosom's smart,
Deeper upon his brow severe
Is traced the anguish of his heart;
As full fraught clouds on mirrors clear
Reflected terrible appear!

What fills that haughty soul with pain?
What thoughts such madd'ning tumults cause?
With Russia plots he war again?
Would he to Poland dictate laws?
Say, is the sword of vengeance glancing?
Does bold revolt claim nature's right?
Do realms oppressed alarm excite?
Or sabres of fierce foes advancing?
Ah no! no more his proud steed prancing
Beneath him guides the Khan to war,-
Such thoughts his mind has banished far.

Has treason scaled the harem's wall,
Whose height might treason's self appal,
And slavery's daughter fled his power,
To yield her to the daring Giaour?

No! pining in his harem sadly,
No wife of his would act so madly;
To wish or think they scarcely dare;
By wretches, cold and heartless, guarded,
Hope from each breast so long discarded;
Treason could never enter there.
Their beauties unto none revealed,
They bloom within the harem's towers,
As in a hot-house bloom the flowers
Which erst perfumed Arabia's field.
To them the days in sameness dreary,

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
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The Tale of Custard The Dragon

Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.

Now the name of the little black kitten was Ink,
And the little gray mouse, she called her Blink,
And the little yellow dog was sharp as Mustard,
But the dragon was a coward, and she called him Custard.

Custard the dragon had big sharp teeth,
And spikes on top of him and scales underneath,
Mouth like a fireplace, chimney for a nose,
And realio, trulio, daggers on his toes.

Belinda was as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chased lions down the stairs,
Mustard was as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard cried for a nice safe cage.

Belinda tickled him, she tickled him unmerciful,
Ink, Blink and Mustard, they rudely called him Percival,
They all sat laughing in the little red wagon
At the realio, trulio, cowardly dragon.

Belinda giggled till she shook the house,
And Blink said Week!, which is giggling for a mouse,
Ink and Mustard rudely asked his age,
When Custard cried for a nice safe cage.

Suddenly, suddenly they heard a nasty sound,
And Mustard growled, and they all looked around.
Meowch! cried Ink, and Ooh! cried Belinda,
For there was a pirate, climbing in the winda.

Pistol in his left hand, pistol in his right,
And he held in his teeth a cutlass bright,
His beard was black, one leg was wood;
It was clear that the pirate meant no good.

Belinda paled, and she cried, Help! Help!
But Mustard fled with a terrified yelp,
Ink trickled down to the bottom of the household,
And little mouse Blink strategically mouseholed.

But up jumped Custard, snorting like an engine,
Clashed his tail like irons in a dungeon,
With a clatter and a clank and a jangling squirm
He went at the pirate like a robin at a worm.

[...] Read more

poem by Ogden Nash
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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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Hey Now Princess (demo Version)

by Jack Bruce and Pete Brown
Look here Princess
I'm not just here for you
So take off in your new Rolls Royce
I've got things to do
Look here Princess
I gave you everything
But now I want it all back
So I can start some living
Look here Princess
I want to be famous and rich
So I can be empty and bitter like you
Sitting home with nothing to do
Princess look now
I've got 15 women called Sue
20 women called Jane
And I'm sad
Look here Princess
Now I'm singin' this sad song
About a man in a kennel
Who cries all day long
Look here Princess
Don't shut me out for good
But keep me in mind for later
Like I always knew you would
Look here Princess
I'm in a desert now
I don't see no way out
You've got to show me how
Look here now Princess
I've got 15 women called Sue
20 women called Jane
And I'm sad
Look here Princess
I'm not just here for you
So take off in your new Rolls Royce
I've got things to do
Look here Princess
I gave you everything
But now I want it all back
So I can start some living
Look here Princess
I want to be famous and rich
So I can be empty and bitter like you
Sitting home with nothing to do
Princess look now
I've got 15 women called Sue
20 women called Jane
And I'm sad

song performed by Cream
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Princess (part 4)

'There sinks the nebulous star we call the Sun,
If that hypothesis of theirs be sound'
Said Ida; 'let us down and rest;' and we
Down from the lean and wrinkled precipices,
By every coppice-feathered chasm and cleft,
Dropt through the ambrosial gloom to where below
No bigger than a glow-worm shone the tent
Lamp-lit from the inner. Once she leaned on me,
Descending; once or twice she lent her hand,
And blissful palpitations in the blood,
Stirring a sudden transport rose and fell.

But when we planted level feet, and dipt
Beneath the satin dome and entered in,
There leaning deep in broidered down we sank
Our elbows: on a tripod in the midst
A fragrant flame rose, and before us glowed
Fruit, blossom, viand, amber wine, and gold.

Then she, 'Let some one sing to us: lightlier move
The minutes fledged with music:' and a maid,
Of those beside her, smote her harp, and sang.

'Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.

'Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.

'Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.

'Dear as remembered kisses after death,
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned
On lips that are for others; deep as love,
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;
O Death in Life, the days that are no more.'

She ended with such passion that the tear,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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A princess' ordeal

In a backward forgotten land,
Where magic was yielded by man,
Lived a princess who wasn't bland,
Yet she was ignored by her clan,
She often craved to hear a rant,
She tried everything that one can,
But soon learned she'd no confidant,
With which to talk and gallivant,
Had she had someone she'd have been,
Less adventurous and caprice,
And ready for dangers unseen,
So she could live her life in peace,
A wizard that'd been made a flea,
By a foe that he tried to fleece,
Craved to reclaim what used to be,
So that he could quell his envy,

He hijacked the princess's life,
By filling her head up with advice,
With the intent of causing strife,
But his sway could not quite suffice,
So he took control of her mind,
And used the girl like a device,
Then proved himself a mastermind,
By changing how some were inclined,
But before he could pose a threat,
His deed had an adverse effect,
Which rightfully caused him to fret,
As it could be seen as suspect,
Changes which were hard to accept,
Soon made the princess imperfect,
All wished her beauty could be kept,
And as a result many wept,

The king wanted a cure found quick,
So he sought a witch to enlist,
Who claimed that she could heal the sick,
And knew all spells that did exist,
The cause of the blight stayed secret,
As the witch had been dishonest,
Such failure was hard to permit,
So she was put in a casket,
The course of action seemed quite rash,
But it made the problem vanish,
Which then caused the king to act brash,
And plan something yet more fiendish,
Within a nearby dragon's crèche,
The princess was left to perish,
The king was sure she'd lose her flesh,
As the beasts craved meat that was fresh,

[...] Read more

poem by Christian Lacdael
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

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

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

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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Princess Of The Posse

Basslines affect me when my rhymes direct me
Forgive the crowds, o lord, they know not why they sweat me
Bitings against the law in the place that I live
So I lock up the door with the keys to my crib
The call me the high priestess of this hasta
Although Im not a dread and not a rasta
Theres never been a word I cant master
Ive always been, a piddly pastor
I reign, the lesson of today
You have to listen to each and every single word I have to say
Because the ruler lord ramsey is on my side
And Im the princess of the posse, so yo, take it light
The princess of the posse, me say she a cool one
She rhyme on my record and she ram jam me gun
The princess of the posse, me say she a cool girl
She rhyme brooklyn, the bronx, usa, the world
You try to dissect my rhymes to see if theres a pattern
I bounced it all around you like the rings around saturn
Let me know now if youd like to protest
And proceeding a greeting, or would you rather progress
Onto a higher plateau, to the peak and Im taking it slow
Enough for you to see the knowledge and to know
Im the q-u-e-e-n, l-a-t-i-f-a-h
Queen of the army posse, the dla which is
Get live alright, you standing there chewing on your fingernails
Nervous, watching me doing the live thing
Singing like a bird sing, ringing like the phone ring
Im the queen and youre the underling
Im never following, I follow nothing
The princess of the posse is a cool one
The princess of the posse, me say she a cool one
She rhyme on my record and she ram jam me gun
The princess of the posse, me say she a cool girl
She rhyme brooklyn, the bronx, usa, the world
Im the queen of the clan, with a mic in my hand
I step over suckers to position myself to rule this land
Its a concoction, for my ability
To show the skeezers the meaning of humility
Cause they dont know Im the one to fly one or two
Im snatching hearts cause Im latifah and I want to
I find it necessary to tell you to get off my tip
Im kicking gold, so grab a hoe and get a good grip
Stop the lying, the trying
The time buying, youve been denying
Youre dependent on me, the princess of the posse
I got the cards, so Im dealing a death blow
Youre taking no crowns, put that on cease
My djs name is mark the 45 king to the posse
Peace, got to let you know where I come from
The princess of the posse is a cool one

[...] Read more

song performed by Queen Latifah
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Rose of England

'Twas a most solemn day
Of that most the world would say.
The Rose of England would pass
Her still form in a gun carriage alas.

Many called it the event of the years
As the cortege the Royal Standard bears.
The clip clop of the horses thru Hyde Park
As on history the Princess leaves her mark.

John Bull's joie de vivre now diminished
It seemed to many that an era had finished.
The clip clop of the horses thru Hyde Park
As on history the Princess leaves her mark.

Yet, even in dying she still lives on
In the heart of many, a love already born.
The clip clop of the horses thru Hyde Park
As on History the Princess leaves her mark.

They'd come from near and far
This massive crowd there'd been no par.
Bless you.Bless you.They cried
For the Queen of their hearts had died.

Many a funeral there had been
But nothing like this the world had seen.
The multitude weepingly lined the way
There was hardly anything you can say.

Two young princes with solemn look
Their precious mother the angels took.
The clip clop of the horses thru Hyde Park
As on History the Princess leaves her mark.

A day one could almost feel wintry's cold
Merry ole England had lost her gold.
Now the winsome princess to be seen no more
Her loving fans no more could adore!

The Queen, Her Majesty, stood at her Palace gate
Had her compassion and caring come too late?
The clip clop of the horses thru Hyde Park
As on History the Princess leaves her mark!

And the bell at the abbey tolls
As the cortege bearing the fallen Rose rolls.
The clip clop of the horses thru Hyde Park
As on History the Princess leaves her mark!

[...] Read more

poem by Enoch John
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Collision

Collision, my mission,
When the dawn breaks
With a handshake
Relaxed and feelin great
Screeching head on, head on, head on
Im needing a head on, head on, head on
Screeching, head on, head on, head on
Im needing a head on, head on, head on
All the days plans
All the shaken hands
Beepers and suntans
Screeching, head on, head on, head on
Im needing a head on, head on, head on
Screeching, head on, head on, head on
Im needing a head on, head on, head on
Collision, my mission
Head on, head on, head on, head on
(sample of people talking)
When the dawn breaks
With a handshake
Relaxed and feelin great
Collision, my mission
Head on, head on, head on,
Head on, head on, head on,
Head on,
Head on,
Head on

song performed by Faith No More
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Robin Hood and the Prince of Aragon

NOW Robin Hood, Will Scadlock and Little John
Are walking over the plain,
With a good fat buck which Will Scadlock
With his strong bow had slain.

`Jog on, jog on,' cries Robin Hood,
`The day it runs full fast;
For though my nephew me a breakfast gave,
I have not yet broke my fast.

`Then to yonder lodge let us take our way,
I think it wondrous good,
Where my nephew by my bold yeomen
Shall be welcomd unto the green wood.'

With that he took the bugle-horn,
Full well he could it blow;
Streight from the woods came marching down
One hundred tall fellows and mo.

`Stand, stand to your arms!' crys Will Scadlock,
`Lo! the enemies are within ken:'
With that Robin Hood he laughd aloud,
Crys, They are my bold yeomen.

Who, when they arriv'd and Robin espy'd,
Cry'd, Master, what is your will?
We thought you had in danger been,
Your horn did sound so shrill.

`Now nay, now nay,' quoth Robin Hood,
`The danger is past and gone;
I would have you to welcome my nephew here,
That hath paid me two for one.'

In feasting and sporting they passed the day,
Till Phoebus sunk into the deep;
Then each one to his quarters hy'd,
His guard there for to keep.

Long had they not walked within the green wood,
But Robin he was espy'd
Of a beautiful damsel all alone,
That on a black palfrey did ride.

Her riding-suit was of sable hew black,
Sypress over her face,
Through which her rose-like cheeks did blush,
All with a comely grace.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
Added by Poetry Lover
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My beautiful diamond princess

Ho my beautiful diamond princess! Ho my beautiful diamond princess! ! Ho my beautiful diamond princess! ! ! calling you three times make my head swell A princess should come from a royal family A princess should have a royal blood flowing through her vain A princess is recognized in the mist of great multitude as a royal person A princess should have wealth and influence rubbed on her by her father A princess is noticed afar as a royal personality worthy of honor in which i have given to you personally as somebody of great value in my life A title i have given to you from the dept of my heart When i look into your eyes what i see is a diamond of special value calling for attention Who else will i give my attention if not you, you are the only sugar in my tea The only honey in my life You are the reason why i am alive You are the reason for my survival You gave hope to the hopeless while others have lost hope in me, you kept my hope burning while other peoples dream were truncated along the way, you kept my dreams flying higher and higher You gave my dreams an accelerated step to victory, victory is sure, victory at last While darkness comes like a scary monster frighten me at night, you made a light in that scary path for my dreams to come true If i have a wings i will fly, If i have a wings i will fly, long long way far away over the blue sea, over the hilltop, over the mountain where i will be waiting for you Ho my beautiful diamond princess here i bow for you to show my heart felt appreciation Thank you for standing by me through tick and thin Thank you very much

poem by Olayemi Ayo
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Princess (part 3)

Morn in the wake of the morning star
Came furrowing all the orient into gold.
We rose, and each by other drest with care
Descended to the court that lay three parts
In shadow, but the Muses' heads were touched
Above the darkness from their native East.

There while we stood beside the fount, and watched
Or seemed to watch the dancing bubble, approached
Melissa, tinged with wan from lack of sleep,
Or grief, and glowing round her dewy eyes
The circled Iris of a night of tears;
'And fly,' she cried, 'O fly, while yet you may!
My mother knows:' and when I asked her 'how,'
'My fault' she wept 'my fault! and yet not mine;
Yet mine in part. O hear me, pardon me.
My mother, 'tis her wont from night to night
To rail at Lady Psyche and her side.
She says the Princess should have been the Head,
Herself and Lady Psyche the two arms;
And so it was agreed when first they came;
But Lady Psyche was the right hand now,
And the left, or not, or seldom used;
Hers more than half the students, all the love.
And so last night she fell to canvass you:
~Her~ countrywomen! she did not envy her.
"Who ever saw such wild barbarians?
Girls?--more like men!" and at these words the snake,
My secret, seemed to stir within my breast;
And oh, Sirs, could I help it, but my cheek
Began to burn and burn, and her lynx eye
To fix and make me hotter, till she laughed:
"O marvellously modest maiden, you!
Men! girls, like men! why, if they had been men
You need not set your thoughts in rubric thus
For wholesale comment." Pardon, I am shamed
That I must needs repeat for my excuse
What looks so little graceful: "men" (for still
My mother went revolving on the word)
"And so they are,--very like men indeed--
And with that woman closeted for hours!"
Then came these dreadful words out one by one,
"Why--these--~are~--men:" I shuddered: "and you know it."
"O ask me nothing," I said: "And she knows too,
And she conceals it." So my mother clutched
The truth at once, but with no word from me;
And now thus early risen she goes to inform
The Princess: Lady Psyche will be crushed;
But you may yet be saved, and therefore fly;
But heal me with your pardon ere you go.'

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Added by Poetry Lover
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Journey To The Kingdom Of Dark Prince(Sun Princess-VI)

The Princess awe-stuck asked the Dark-prince at once
'But how could you reach our kingdom as my horse? '
'In Wizi-quizy -witchy fair, your court sorceress,
bought me though, I couldn't tell her as days were worse!
Told the Prince and pleaded princess to touch him then,
with her magic wand, to turn him to, the large-winged bird.
Princess, felt very ashamed, how could she ride on his back?
The Prince laughed, and said -'Princess, I'm your guard.
But I need you to dispel the dark-spell of evil wizard.
My parents are captivated in his prison, under his spell.
We have to get before night falls, with all black-art.
Touch, touch me with your magic stick without any fail.'
Reluctantly, Princess did so, and rode on the mythical bird.
They whispered all the way and the prince told how did he,
fall in love with the princess since he saw her in her realm!
Then the princess said, 'O, O my prince! 'ashamed was she!
As they were going near Dark-realm, the light of the sun was
Fading out, fading out and fading out, the vista thus changed.
The woods, rivers, seas and hills lost their color natural...
Only black, and black and black, also darkness there reigned.
The prince in form of bird, could not keep his wings opened.
Rewinding wings meant, going down, down, to earth's surface.
Princess, told to land him soon, in any place which may be safe.
They darted down near a den, occupied by a primordial lioness.
She rushed roaring but the princess then sprinkled the love ray
calling her-'Dear, lioness, we are the guest of Dark-realm,
come and greet him with honor, and show us king's palace's way.'
The lioness said with tearful eyes, 'My husband is no more king
of kingdom, the Black Magician has made us animal'she did say.

poem by Nilakshi Das
Added by Poetry Lover
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