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Graduation Song

It's the hour of the graduation,
hope soars beyond imagination,
The hard work and sleepless nights,
are only the memories of the bygone days.

Feel free, as we always wanted,
Aim for the rosy future, as we always dreamt of,
Be, as we were meant to be.

The time has come for the,
exciting new life to begin,
The fear and anxiety of an unknown future,
don't even creep in mind.

The sweet touch of hugs and kisses,
from family and friends,
would be everlasting in the indebted heart.
the joy and happiness on their faces,
would be engraved forever in thoughts.

Feel free, as we always wanted,
Aim for the rosy future, as we always dreamt of,
Be, as we were meant to be.

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Hard Work,

hard work,
hard work is all beneficial,
hope for the best,
Keep your heart with no limits,
Since that life hast a good definition,
Since that hard work will bring a reward,
Hope and pray for the best,
That I never get tired,
You got to strive on and on,
Never fail in your coming up,
Since that Iam bold,
Since that I got work to do on earth,
There is a glory that is awaiting me,
That the good will win forever,
Get a promise that the Lord is the higher guide.

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Hard Work

Hard work has no parallel
One has to try hard and excel
If nothing goes in favor or well
Try not to reveal it to others or tell

It may not remain for uncertain days
By the time you may sure find the ways
You may attain position to make the sway
See nothing is left out or given away

No doubt life can’t be equal for all
One has to quickly adjust and respond to call
If something is missing or not available
It must be got with whatever situation favorable

You can’t sit and think idle
Must think to come out from troubles
If that is done successfully
Life will be enjoyed fully

Life has to be lived
Its secret must be believed
You can’t be choosey or relaxed
Anytime you will be shown the way or taxed

Live the way you like and spend
But make room for slight amend
Love the life and friends as well
There may be mot more fragrance to smell

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Family, Friends and Fellowship

He gave you arms to hold me up when I am falling down
He gave you lips to cheer me up when storms are all around
He gave you songs to fill me up when words will never do
For this family, oh Father I thank you!

He gave you tears to cry with me when I am filled with grief
He gave you joy to laugh with me when I find relief
He gave you eyes to watch over me as I walk the narrow way
For this family, Father I thank you today!

Family Friends and Fellowship keep me going strong
There’s always someone by my side I know that I belong
To a family bound for glory land, I find myself at ease
’Cause this family who loves Jesus, has His peace!

He gave you tears to cry with me when I am filled with grief
He gave you joy to laugh with me when I find relief
And because you love Jesus, I can trust you to love me too!
For this family, oh, Father I thank you!
For this family, oh, Father I thank you!

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To Live Beyond The Edge Of Hope

To live beyond the edge of hope
Is to dangle daily from a rope
In a perpetual dance with death itself
Beyond this world and all its wealth

There is a world of blue and green
But to the dark eye its all unseen
A world of orange, red and yellow too
But from the rope its beyond all view

For from the rope there's shades of grey
And sleepless nights and endless days
And every now and then some light
But just enough to confirm the night

There was a time I dangled from this rope
At the edge of hell and beyond all hope
I lived my life, just hanging there
Crushed and broken, suspended in the air

Then Jesus came and cut me down
He raised me up to wear a crown
A pauper raised to walk with kings
A voicless man but now who sings

Of all the glories of the Lord
Who came with Word and deed and sword
And conquered hell and death and sin
Restoring joy and hope within

Now all the world is bright to me
No matter what my eyes can see
No longer dangling from the rope
I walk with Jesus, I walk with hope

And above the clouds I know its true
The sun shines bright and the sky is blue
And when a shaft of light appears
It warms my heart and quells my fears

Now if your dangling from that rope
And this lie cries out, 'there is no hope'
Cry out to the one who can cut you down
He will raise you up and you will wear a crown!

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There Is More To Life Than Hard Work

I can't say my life's been a great life that I've been there and I've done that
But I worked in pipe laying crew for Michael Kelleher in Buninyong near Ballarat
And I worked in the late eighties for a firm called C.D.L.
Jack hammering in the heat of Summer when the days were hot as hell.

101 Collins Street Melbourne I remember that address
Not that I enjoyed the work there I remember none the less
Up each morning at five thirty then to work on tram I'd go
And left that building site each evening covered in dust head to toe.

Another four years as tree clearer up by powerlines clearing trees
Operating a cherry picker for such you don't need degrees
For a Travel tower company a growing concern managed by a greedy lot
They still owe me two weeks wages something I have not forgot.

Up working mornings at five thirty between work and travel a twelve hour day
Whilst my so called bosses made their millions I took home bare living pay
Now I take it nice and easy and I'm well off now as I was then
If your bosses make their millions for you there can't be a win

I worked as tree feller in Ireland far away and long ago
In the high woods by the mountains where the peaks wear hats of snow
Most Winter days were wet and chilly up to April not much sunshine
Only sound the cold wind soughing in the larch and spruce and pine.

'Hard work never did anybody harm' to coin that phrase it took a fool
Hard work your life's bound to shorten you can overwork a mule
Hard working Joe is dead at fifty, Pete on welfare living on
Pete five years older and quite healthy he's still here and Joe is gone.

Maybe I've drudged for a few years but I'm not proud of that at all
And if my life has got one highlight such as now I can't recall
And if one tell me how hard he work I tell him my watch is slow
And I'm late for an appointment 'see you later got to go'.

'Ned the basher' at his local like to sing his praises loud
And boast of the hard work he's done to an uninterested crowd,
He's proud to show his work callouses he must have an empty life
But he never once did mention how he often beats his wife

There is more to life than hard work, work to live but not to die
And if you labour hard poor fellow life you never can enjoy
If your boss is making millions and you take home bare living pay
Maybe you should have a re-think and perhaps give the job away.

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Byron

Parisina

1

It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale’s high note is heard;
It is the hour when lovers’ vows
Seem sweet in every whisper’d word;
And gentle winds, and waters near,
Make music to the lonely ear.
Each flower the dews have lightly wet,
And in the sky the stars are met,
And on the wave is deeper blue,
And on the leaf a browner hue,
And in the heaven that clear obscure,
So softly dark, and darkly pure,
Which follows the decline of day,
As twilight melts beneath the moon away.

2

But it is not to list to the waterfall
That Parisina leaves her hall,
And it is not to gaze on the heavenly light
That the lady walks in the shadow of night;
And if she sits in Este’s bower,
’Tis not for the sake of its full-blown flower—
She listens—but not for the nightingale—
Though her ear expects as soft a tale.
There glides a step through the foliage thick,
And her cheek grows pale—and her heart beats quick.
There whispers a voice through the rustling leaves,
And her blush returns, and her bosom heaves:
A moment more—and they shall meet—
’Tis past—her lover’s at her feet.

3

And what unto them is the world beside
With all its change of time and tide?
Its living things—its earth and sky—
Are nothing to their mind and eye.
And heedless as the dead are they
Of aught around, above, beneath;
As if all else had passed away,
They only for each other breathe;
Their very sighs are full of joy
So deep, that did it not decay,
That happy madness would destroy
The hearts which feel its fiery sway:
Of guilt, of peril, do they deem
In that tumultuous tender dream?
Who that have felt that passion’s power,
Or paused, or feared in such an hour?
Or thought how brief such moments last:
But yet—they are already past!
Alas! we must awake before
We know such vision comes no more.

4

With many a lingering look they leave
The spot of guilty gladness past;
And though they hope, and vow, they grieve,
As if that parting were the last.
The frequent sigh—the long embrace—
The lip that there would cling for ever,
While gleams on Parisina’s face
The Heaven she fears will not forgive her,
As if each calmly conscious star
Beheld her frailty from afar—
The frequent sigh, the long embrace,
Yet binds them to their trysting-place.
But it must come, and they must part
In fearful heaviness of heart,
With all the deep and shuddering chill
Which follows fast the deeds of ill.

5

And Hugo is gone to his lonely bed,
To covet there another’s bride;
But she must lay her conscious head
A husband’s trusting heart beside.
But fevered in her sleep she seems,
And red her cheek with troubled dreams,
And mutters she in her unrest
A name she dare not breathe by day,
And clasps her lord unto the breast
Which pants for one away:
And he to that embrace awakes,
And, happy in the thought, mistakes
That dreaming sigh, and warm caress,
For such as he was wont to bless;
And could in very fondness weep
O’er her who loves him even in sleep.

6

He clasped her sleeping to his heart,
And listened to each broken word:
He hears—Why doth Prince Azo start,
As if the Archangel’s voice he heard?
And well he may—a deeper doom
Could scarcely thunder o’er his tomb,
When he shall wake to sleep no more,
And stand the eternal throne before.
And well he may—his earthly peace
Upon that sound is doomed to cease.
That sleeping whisper of a name
Bespeaks her guilt and Azo’s shame.
And whose that name? that o’er his pillow
Sounds fearful as the breaking billow,
Which rolls the plank upon the shore,
And dashes on the pointed rock
The wretch who sinks to rise no more,—
So came upon his soul the shock.
And whose that name? ’tis Hugo’s,—his—
In sooth he had not deem’d of this!—
’Tis Hugo’s,—he, the child of one
He loved—his own all-evil son—
The offspring of his wayward youth,
When he betrayed Bianca’s truth,
The maid whose folly could confide
In him who made her not his bride.

7

He plucked his poignard in its sheath,
But sheathed it ere the point was bare—
Howe’er unworthy now to breathe,
He could not slay a thing so fair—
At least, not smiling—sleeping—there—
Nay more:—he did not wake her then,
But gazed upon her with a glance
Which, had she roused her from her trance,
Had frozen her sense to sleep again—
And o’er his brow the burning lamp
Gleamed on the dew-drops big and damp.
She spake no more—but still she slumberd—
While, in his thought, her days are numbered.

8

And with the morn he sought, and found,
In many a tale from those around,
The proof of all he feared to know,
Their present guilt, his future woe;
The long-conniving damsels seek
To save themselves, and would transfer
The guilt—the shame—the doom—to her:
Concealment is no more—they speak
All circumstance which may compel
Full credence to the tale they tell:
And Azo’s tortured heart and ear
Have nothing more to feel or hear.

9

He was not one who brooked delay:
Within the chamber of his state,
The chief of Este’s ancient sway
Upon his throne of judgment sate;
His nobles and his guards are there,—
Before him is the sinful pair;
Both young,—and one how passing fair!
With swordless belt, and fettered hand,
Oh, Christ! that thus a son should stand
Before a father’s face!
Yet thus must Hugo meet his sire,
And hear the sentence of his ire,
The tale of his disgrace!
And yet he seems not overcome,
Although, as yet, his voice be dumb.

10

And still, and pale, and silently
Did Parisina wait her doom;
How changed since last her speaking eye
Glanced gladness round the glittering room,
Where high-born men were proud to wait—
Where Beauty watched to imitate
Her gentle voice—her lovely mien—
And gather from her air and gait
The graces of its queen:
Then,—had her eye in sorrow wept,
A thousand warriors forth had leapt,
A thousand swords had sheathless shone,
And made her quarrel all their own.
Now,—what is she? And what are they?
Can she command, or these obey?
All silent and unheeding now,
With downcast eyes and knitting brow,
And folded arms, and freezing air,
And lips that scarce their scorn forbear,
Her knights and dames, her court—is there:
And he, the chosen one, whose lance
Had yet been couched before her glance,
Who—were his arms a moment free
Had died or gained her liberty;
The minion of his father’s bride,—
He, too, is fettered by her side;
Nor sees her swoln and full eye swim
Less for her own despair than him:
Those lids o’er which the violet vein—
Wandering, leaves a tender stain,
Shining through the smoothest white
That e’er did softest kiss invite—
Now seemed with hot and livid glow
To press, not shade, the orbs below;
Which glance so heavily, and fill,
As tear on tear grows gathering still.

11

And he for had also wept,
But for the eyes that on him gazed:
His sorrow, if he felt it, slept;
Stern and erect his brow was raised.
What’er the grief his soul avowed,
He would not shrink before the crowd;
But yet he dared not look on her:
Remembrance of the hours that were
His guilt—his love—his present state—
His father’s wrath—all good men’s hate—
His earthly, his eternal fate—
And hers,—oh, hers!—he dared not throw
One look upon that death-like brow!
Else had his rising heart betrayed
Remorse for all the wreck it made.

12

And Azo spake:—“But yesterday
I gloried in a wife and son;
That dream this morning pass’d away;
Ere day declines, I shall have none.
My life must linger on alone;
Well,—let that pass,—there breathes not one
Who would not do as I have done:
Those ties are broken—not by me;
Let that too pass;—the doom’s prepared!
Hugo, the priest awaits on thee,
And then—thy crime’s reward!
Away! address thy prayers to Heaven,
Before its evening stars are met—
Learn if thou there canst be forgiven;
Its mercy may absolve thee yet.
But here, upon the earth beneath,
There is no spot where thou and I
Together, for an hour, could breathe:
Farewell! I will not see thee die—
But thou, frail thing! shall view his head—
Away! I cannot speak the rest:
Go! woman of the wanton breast;
Not I, but thou his blood dost shed:
Go! if that sight thou canst outlive,
And joy thee in the life I give.”

13

And here stern Azo hid his face—
For on his brow the swelling vein
Throbbed as if back upon his brain
The hot blood ebbed and flowed again;
And therefore bowed he for a space,
And passed his shaking hand along
His eye, to veil it from the throng;
While Hugo raise his chained hands,
And for a brief delay demands
His father’s ear: the silent sire
Forbids not what his words require.
It is not that I dread the death—
For thou hast seen me by thy side
All redly through the battle ride,
And that not once a useless brand
Thy slaves have wrested from my hand,
Hath shed more blood in cause of thine,
Than e’er can stain the axe of mine:
Thou gav’st, and may’st resume my breath,
A gift for which I thank thee not;
Nor are my mother’s wrongs forgot,
Her slighted love and ruined name,
Her offspring’s heritage of shame;
But she is in the grave, where he,
Her son, thy rival, soon shall be.
Her broken heart—my severed head—
Shall witness for thee from the dead
How trusty and how tender were
Thy youthful love—paternal care.
’Tis true that I have done thee wrong—
But wrong for wrong—this deemed thy bride,
The other victim of thy pride,
Thou know’st for me was destined long.
Thou saw’st, and coveted’st her charms—
And with thy very crime—my birth,
Thou taunted’st me—as little worth;
A match ignoble for her arms,
Because, forsooth, I could not claim
The lawful heirship of thy name,
Nor sit on Este’s lineal throne;
Yet, were a few short summers mine,
My name should more than Este’s shine
With honours all my own.
I had a sword—and have a breast
That should have won as haught a crest
As ever waved along the line
Of all these sovereign sires of thine.
Not always knightly spurs are worn
The brightest by the better born;
And mine have lanced my courser’s flank
Before proud chiefs of princely rank,
When charging to the cheering cry
Of ’Este and of Victory!’”
“I will not plead the cause of crime,
Nor sue thee to redeem from time
A few brief hours or days that must
At length roll o’er my reckless dust;—
Such maddening moments as my past,
They could not, and they did not, last—
Albeit, my birth and name be base,
And thy nobility of race
Disdained to deck a thing like me—
Yet in my lineaments they trace
Some features of my father’s face,
And in my spirit—all of thee.
From thee this tamelessness of heart
From thee—nay, wherefore dost thou start?—
From thee in all their vigour came
My arm of strength, my soul of flame—
Thou didst not give me life alone,
But all that made me more thine own.
See what thy guilty love hath done!
Repaid thee with too like a son!
I am no bastard in my soul,
For that, like thine, abhorred controul:
And for by breath, that hasty boon
Thou gav’st and wilt resume so soon,
I valued it no more than thou,
When rose thy casque above thy brow,
And we, all side by side, have striven,
And o’er the dead our coursers driven:
The past is nothing—and at last
The future can but be the past;
Yet would I that I then had died;
For though thou work’dst my mother’s ill,
And made thy own my destined bride,
I feel thou art may father still:
And harsh, as sounds thy hard decree,
’Tis not unjust, although from thee.
Begot in sin, to die in shame,
My life begun and ends the same:
As erred the sire, so erred the son,
And thou must punish both in one.
My crime seems worst to human view,
But God must judge between us too!”

14

He ceased—and stood with folded arms,
On which the circling fetters sounded;
And not an ear but felt as wounded,
Of all the chiefs that there were ranked
When those dull chains in meeting clanked:
Till Parisina’s fatal charms
Again attracted every eye—
Would she thus hear him doomed to die!
She stood, I said, all pale and still,
The living cause of Hugo’s ill:
Her eyes unmoved, but full and wide,
Not once had turned to either side—
Nor once did those sweet eyelids close,
Or shade the glance o’er which they rose,
But round their orbs of deepest blue
The circling white dilated grew—
And there with glassy gaze she stood
As ice were in her curdled blood;
But every now and then a tear
So large and slowly gathered slid
From the long dark fringe of that fair lid,
It was a thing to see, not hear!
And those who saw, it did surprise,
Such drops could fall from human eyes.
To speak she thought—the imperfect note
Was choked within her swelling throat,
Yet seemed in that low hollow groan
Her whole heart gushing in the tone.
It ceased—again she thought to speak,
Then burst her voice in one long shriek,
And to the earth she fell like stone
Or statue from its base o’erthrown,
More like a thing that ne’er had life,—
A monument of Azo’s wife,—
Than her, that living guilty thing,
Whose every passion was a sting,
Which urged to guilt, but could not bear
That guilt’s detection and despair.
But yet she lived—and all too soon
Recovered from that death-like swoon—
But scarce to reason—every sense
Had been o’erstrung by pangs intense;
And each frail fibre of her brain
(As bow-strings, when relaxed by rain,
The erring arrow launch aside)
Sent forth her thoughts all wild and wide—
The past a blank, the future black,
With glimpses of a dreary track,
Like lightning on the desert path,
When midnight storms are mustering wrath.
She feared—she felt that something ill
Lay on her soul, so deep and chill—
That there was sin and shame she knew;
That some one was to die—but who?
She had forgotten:—did she breathe?
Could this be still the earth beneath?
The sky above, and men around;
Or were they fiends who now so frowned
On one, before whose eyes each eye
Till then and smiled in sympathy?
All was confused and undefined
To her all-jarred and wandering mind;
A chaos of wild hopes and fears:
And now in laughter, now in tears,
But madly still in each extreme,
She strove with that convulsive dream;
For so it seemed on her to break:
Oh! vainly must she strive to wake!

15

The Convent bells are ringing,
But mournfully and slow;
In the grey square turret swinging,
With a deep sound, to and fro,
Heavily to the heart they go!
Hark! the hymn is singing—
The song for the dead below,
Or the living who shortly shall be so!
For a departing being’s soul
The death-hymn peals and the hollow bells knoll:
He is near his mortal goal;
Kneeling at the Friar’s knee;
Sad to hear—and piteous to see—
Kneeling on the bare, cold ground,
With the block before and the guards around—
And the headsman with his bare arm ready,
That the blow may be both swift and steady,
Feels if the axe be sharp and true—
Since he set its edge anew:
While the crowd in a speechless circle gather
To see the Son fall by the doom of the Father.

16

It is a lovely hour as yet
Before the summer sun shall set,
Which rose upon that heavy day,
And mocked it with his steadiest ray;
And his evening beams are shed
Full on Hugo’s fated head,
As his last confession pouring
To the monk, his doom deploring
In penitential holiness,
He bends to hear his accents bless
With absolution such as may
Wipe our mortal stains away.
That high sun on his head did glisten
As he there did bow and listen—
And the rings of chestnut hair
Curled half down his neck so bare;
But brighter still the beam was thrown
Upon the axe which near him shone
With a clear and ghastly glitter—
Oh! that parting hour was bitter!
Even the stern stood chilled with awe:
Dark the crime, and just the law—
Yet they shuddered as they saw.

17

The parting prayers are said and over
Of that false son—and daring lover!
His beads and sins are all recounted,
His hours to their last minute mounted—
His mantling cloak before was stripped,
His bright brown locks must now be clipped
’Tis done—all closely are they shorn—
The vest which till this moment worn—
The scarf which Parisina gave—
Must not adorn him to the grave.
Even that must now be thrown aside,
And o’er his eyes the kerchief tied;
But no—that last indignity
Shall ne’er approach his haughty eye.
All feelings seemingly subdued,
In deep disdain were half renewed,
When headsman’s hands prepared to bind
Those eyes which would not brook such blind;
As if they dared not look on death.
“No—yours my forfeit blood and breath—
These hands are chained—but let me die
At least with an unshackled eye—
Strike”:--- and as the word he said,
Upon the block he bowed his head;
These the last accents Hugo spoke:
“Strike”—and flashing fell the stroke—
Rolled the head—and gushing, sunk
Back the stained and heaving trunk,
In the dust, which each deep vein
Slaked with its ensanguined rain;
His eyes and lips a moment quiver,
Convulsed and quick—then fix for ever.
He died, as erring man should die,
Without display, without parade;
Meekly had he bowed and prayed,
As not disdaining priestly aid,
Nor desperate of all hope on high.
And while before the Prior kneeling,
His heart was weaned from earthly feeling;
His wrathful sire—his paramour—
What were they in such an hour?
No more reproach—no more despair
No thought but heaven—no word but prayer—
Save the few which from him broke,
When, bared to meet the headsman’s stroke,
He claimed to die with eyes unbound,
His sole adieu to those around.

18

Still as the lips that closed in death,
Each gazer’s bosom held his breath:
But yet, afar, from man to man,
A cold electric shiver ran,
As down the deadly blow descended
On him whose life and love thus ended;
And with a hushing sound comprest,
A sigh shrunk back on every breast;
But no more thrilling noise rose there,
Beyond the blow that to the block
Pierced through with forced and sullen shock,
Save one:—what cleaves the silent air
So madly shrill—so passing wild?
That, as a mother’s o’er her child,
Done to death by sudden blow,
To the sky these accents go,
Like a soul’s in endless woe.
Through Azo’s palace-lattice driven,
That horrid voice ascends to heaven,
And every eye is turned thereon;
But sound and sight alike are gone!
It was a woman’s shriek—and ne’er
In madlier accents rose despair;
And those who heard it, as it past,
In mercy wished it were the last.

19

Hugo is fallen; and, from that hour,
No more in palace, hall, or bower,
Was Parisina heard or seen:
Her name—as if she ne’er had been—
Was banish’d from each lip and ear,
Like words of wantoness or fear;
And from Prince Azo’s voice, by none
Was mention heard of wife or son;
No tomb—no memory had they;
Theirs was unconsecrated clay;
At least the knight’s who died that day.
But Parisina’s fate lies hid:
Like dust beneath the coffin lid:
Whether in convent she abode,
And won to heaven her dreary road,
By blighted and remorseful years
Of scourge, and fast, and sleepless tears:
Or if she fell by bowl or steel,
For that dark love she dared to feel;
Or if, upon the moment smote,
She died by tortures less remote;
Like him she saw upon the block,
With heart that shared the headsman’s shock,
In quickened brokenness that came,
In pity, o’er her shattered frame,
None knew—and none can ever know:
But whatso’er its end below,
Her life began and closed in woe!

20

And Azo found another bride,
And goodly sons grew by his side;
But none so lovely and so brave
As him who withered in the grave;
Or if they wereon his cold eye
Their growth but glanced unheeded by,
Or noticed with a smothered sigh.
But never tear his cheek descended,
And never smile his brow unbended;
And o’er that fair broad brow were wrought
The intersected lines of thought;
Those furrows which the burning share
Of Sorrow ploughs untimely there;
Scars of the lacerating mind
Which the Soul’s war doth leave behind,
He was past all mirth or woe:
Nothing more remained below
But sleepless nights and heavy days,
A mind all dead to scorn or praise,
A heart which shunned itself—and yet
That would not yield—nor could forget,
Which when it least appeared to melt,
Intently thought—intensely felt:
The deepest ice which ever froze
Can only o’er the surface close—
The living stream lies quick below,
And flows—and cannot cease to flow.
Still was his sealed-up bosom haunted
By thoughts which Nature hath implanted;
Too deeply rooted thence to vanish,
Howe’er our stifled tears we banish;
When, struggling as they rise to start,
We check those waters of the heart,
They are not dried—those tears unshed
But flow back to the fountain head,
And resting in their spring more pure,
For ever in its depth endure,
Unseen, unwept, but uncongealed,
And cherished most where least revealed.
With inward starts of feeling left,
To throb o’er those of life bereft,
Without the power to fill again
The desart gap which made his pain;
Without the hope to meet them where
United souls shall gladness share,
With all the consciousness that he
Had only passed a just decree;
That they had wrought their doom of ill,
Yet Azo’s age was wretched still.
The tainted branches of the tree,
If lopped with care, a strength may give,
By which the rest shall bloom and live
All greenly fresh and wildly free,
But if the lightning, in its wrath,
The waving boughs with fury scathe,
The massy trunk the ruin feels,
And never more a leaf reveals.

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Hard work

Work work and hard work and there is
Nothing that substitute hard work.

Dedication and determination
Are the primary concern.

Do you want to drink the ocean?
Do you want to crumble the mountain?

Go on go on and on on
Go on doing your duty doing and doing
That are worth doing.

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Love in my heart & joy in my sole.

Today is the day
A brand new day
With love in my heart
Joy in my sole
I wake, I dance I sing with joy
Alhumdolillah I'm a muslim
Life go's on
For yesterday has died
Tomorow brings new beginings
May the love grow & the joy continue
As I grow to be who I want & need to be
A mom, A sister, A freind to all.

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Hard Work Never Killed Anyone Lies

good honest hard work
never killed anyone is a lie
no one in the historical

graveyard skeleton history
etched on exhausted bones of sixteen
hours work a day slavery

worked six days a week
in bound crucible lifestyles ghost gone
in eras civilization passed

will rise up in memory grave testimony
will roll over in the grave to moan at lid coffin
closed denying lie hard work never killed anyone


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Hard Work

Doing back breaking work
Puts a new light on life
Makes you see
How to appreciate life

Getting hands dirty
And mucking in dirt
Makes you realize
That life is hard work

Dusting the cobwebs
And scrubbing the floors
Makes you just love
The hard work
You've just done

It's a labour of love
At a job well done

Now its time to sit back
And relax in the sun

You feel happy content
At all that you've done

So pat your own back
At a job well done

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In My Hard Work

the goddess of poetry
by reason of my hard work
as a poet
writing poems and more poems
did not give me wings
as reward
neither did she give me
laurel leaves as
incentives or a vacation to
China or cash not even a trophy
or plaque of appreciation
to time allotted
to emotions devoted

she is cruel to me
she gave me a pair of black eye-bags
swollen eyeballs
back pains, tormented mind
stuttering mouth

and a very nice sleep
on the other hand

with a bonus
i am now more focused
on what i really want
i am self-reliant.

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Hard work pays

Wow, how payful is hardworking
Trust me you will always gain something
But only if you work hard
You can look stupid in faces of people
But trust me looking stupid doesn't describe a person

Always be sure on what you are doing
Because you might end up doing nothing
If you know what you are doing
All embarrassment you had, will be washed way
Happy and glory will be all yours

Your sad face will be charming
Smile will be on your face
Even thought you are poor and skinny
You can still do it
And always remember that hard work pays

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You Didnt Feel My Heart With Happiness

stars of the night
sun of the day
im gonna shine
night or day
rain or shine

you didnt make me happy
you didnt make me smile
you have no heart
your cold hearted

you will never feel this heart with happiness
you will never make this girl yours or even shine

im gonna go live with my life filled with happiness without you
so go on and think of me but u will feel the same without me

someone has already made me smile
somone has already made my heart filled with happiness
because

you didnt make me happy
you didnt make me smile
have no heart
your cold hearted

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Sleepless Nights

(boudeleaux bryant/felice bryant)
Thru the sleepless nights I cry for you
And wonder who is kissing you
Oh these sleepless nights will break my heart again
Somehow thru the day I dont give in
I hide the tears that wait until
Oh these sleepless nights will break my heart again
Why did you go why did you go
Dont you know dont you know I need you

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Sleepless Nights

Through the sleepless nights
I cry for you
And wonder who
Is kissing you
Oh, these sleepless nights
Will brake my heart in two
Somehow, through the day
I dont give in
I hide the tears
That wait within
Oh, these sleepless nights
Will break my heart again
Why did you go?
Oh, why did you go?
Dont you know, dont you know
I need you?
Through the sleepless nights
I cry for you
And wonder who
Is kissing you
Oh, these sleepless nights
Will break my heart in two
Oh, oh, oh, oh, these sleepless nights
Will break my heart in two
Oh, oh, oh, oh, these sleepless nights
Will break my heart in two

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Sleepless Nights

Through these sleepless nights
i cry for you
And wonder who
is kissing you
Oh these sleepless nights
Will break my heart in two
Somehow through the days
I don't give in
I hide my tears
That wait within
Oh but then through sleepless nights
I cry again
Why did you go ?
Why did you go ?
Don't you know ?
Don't you know ?
I need you
I keep hoping you'll come back to me
Oh let it be
Please let it be
Oh, my love, please end
These sleepless nights for me
Why did you go ?
Why did you go ?
Don't you know ?
Don't you know ?
I need you
I keep hoping you'll come back to me
Oh let it be
Please let it be
Oh, my love, please end
These sleepless nights for me
My love, please end these sleepless nights for me

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High School Days Of Haze

High school days of haze

Awakened in a twilight zone
Of a mindset of self-doubt
And indulgence.
Where each day fathoms
a pretentious existence
Of what is real doesn't matter
And what matter isn't real

High school days of haze

Strapped in a wrist
Is scared secrecy
Of a friendship bracelet
Plastered in the mimicry
Of Smiley faces
That will cut you,
In words and rumors

High school days of haze

Will birth a bully
Out of tombstone
And give rise to young dolts
Of cowardly endeavors;
that collects a heterogeneous mix
as in a fine filter of friends
From foes

High school days of haze

Where originality is a desire
Sough, but rarely obtained
the indifferent have
Found their difference
In a society of poise
The awkwardly corky
Grim in their authenticity
cultivates success
With hard work and creativity

High school days of haze

Where half dreaming
Become half wakefulness
So better smell the roses
For the throne have spikes
and the dartboard is you.

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Girls & Boys

Girls and boys!
He only knew her 4 a little while,
But he had grown accustomed 2 her style
She had the cutest ass hed ever seen
He did 2, they were meant 2 be
They loved 2 kiss on the steps of versailles
It looked like rain, mama, birds do fly
I love u baby, I love u so much,
Maybe we can stay in touch
Meet me in another world, space and joy,
Vous etes tres belle, mama, girls and boys
He gave her all the love that anyone can,
But she was promised 2 another man
He tried so hard not 2 go insane
Birds do fly, looks like rain
I love u baby, I love u so much,
Maybe we can stay in touch
Meet me in another world, space and joy,
Vous etes tres belle, mama, girls and boys
Life is precious baby, love is so rare
I can take the breakup if u say that u care
He had 2 run away, his pride was 2 strong
It started raining, baby, the birds were gone
(I love u baby, I love u so much)
Maybe (maybe we can stay in touch)
Meet me in another world (meet me in another world, space and joy)
Vous etes tres belle (vous etes tres belle, mama)
Girls and boys (girls and boys)
(I love u baby, I love u so much)
I want u, babe (maybe we can stay in touch)
Maybe we can play today (meet me in another world, space and joy)
Vous etes tres belle (vous etes tres belle, mama)
Girls and boys (girls and boys)
{translation in brackets}
Vous etiez de lautre cote de la salle
{u were on the other end of the room/hall}
Vous dansiez si fort
{u were dancing so hard/strong}
Je sentais votre parfum
{i could smell your perfume}
Votre sourire me dit que nous devrions nous parler
{your smile told me we should talk}
Sexe et repos
{sex and rest}
Baby
Je sais que vous aimerez ca
{i know ull like that}
Vous ny resisterez pas
{u wont resist it/to it}
Baby
Je vous enlacerai avec mes jambes
{Ill wrap my legs around u}
Baby
Pendant des heures je vais vous etonner
{during hours Ill astound u (? )}
Baby
Faire lamour faire lamour
{make love make love}
Nous nous rencontrerons
{well meet}
I love u baby, I love u so much
Maybe we can stay in touch
Meet me in another world, space and joy,
Vous etes tres belle, mama, girls and boys
(I love u baby)
I want u baby (I love u so much)
I want u so much (maybe we can stay in touch)
Maybe, maybe we can stay in touch (meet me in another world, space and joy)
Another world, space (vous etes tres belle)
Lips... (mama, girls and boys)
Face...
Happiness in its uncut form
Is the feeling that I get, youre warm, warm
Happys what I get when we do what we do
Happiness, mama, is being with u
Good lord
Meet me somewhere after dawn
Lord (I love u baby)
(I love u so much)
(maybe we can stay in touch)
(I love u baby)
(I love u so much)
Vous etes belle
So like I saw u from across the room, and (maybe we can stay in touch)
Honey, u danced so hard I smelled your perfume, (maybe we can stay in touch)
And the look on your lips said that a,
We could talk some more, (maybe we can stay in touch)
Some more on the dance floor baby (I love u baby)
Hear the words Im saying, (I love u so much)
Feel the sex Im laying (maybe we can stay in touch)
Naughtys what I wanna be with u tonight
Tonight
(meet me in another world, space and joy)
Vous etes tres belle, mama, girls and boys
Vous etes tres belle, mama, girls and boys
Vous etes tres belle, mama, girls and boys
Vous etes tres belle, mama, girls and boys
Girls and boys

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Sleepless nights

A cute wife- it tickles your pride.
It gives you some sleepless nights too.
05.04.2007

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Lil' Kim

I am blessed to have so many great things in my life - family, friends and God. All will be in my thoughts daily.

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