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Night Creeps

Night creeps
Slowly by
Haunting those
On the streets
When the day comes
Flee
And scatter
Like leaves
Fears and
Night creeps
My Dad
A
Night creep

poem by Missy Lynn
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

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poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Cursed (story)

I am Bill.I live with my brother, my dad, mom and my lil sis.There's always this thing that bothers my mind..it's because i believe that my mom and sis already died.It was almost a yearago yet not that old to be forgotten.our house was burnt for unknown reason.They we're found dead on the room i was staying.Burned, yet there's still mystery upon their death.

I can barely remember that i see mere smoke and huge fire.i was just 7 yet my mind works as if i was not.After the tragic happenings the ocean made noise and i saw a huge wave comming towards our direction.Crowds of neigbors, the police, the rescuers and even i, my lil bro and dad run away.

our house was swallowed by that huge wave.After that i don't know what else happened.I hear my dad yell and my lil bro crying.I see blurry lights and hear the sirens.I was asleep! am i? i see the lights striking in my eyelids yet i can not see any image.i hear the sound of waves smashing unto rocks then i'm

shocked to reality i'm just sitting on the deck before the emergency room in the city hospital.I was wonderin' what i'm doin' there but 'twas just a couple'o seconds when i saw my lil bro and dad walked out the emergency room, smiling and waved on me.My dad shouted com'mon bill let's go home.okey, well my dad's calling me.Gotta go!

i really don't know what happened but as we go back to where our house was build it was still there standing steady and strong.I looked around i saw our neighbor's house burnt.and i said' oh, bla bla i really don't know what's happening! ' and asked dad 'dad i thought it was our house burned? '

and as i always hear from him dad answered in a huge voice 'what? are you out of your mind? '

then i heared a soft voice saying 'John, let him rest.Maybe he's hallucinating.he's from kelly's house beside the shore.we all knew it's almost impossible for him to survive that huge fire.'

my pores closed, my spines shivered..and my heart pumped fast...

i shouted' who's that'? ... MOM?

and the voice answered 'yes dear.'

my dad then said' LEt's took him to the doctor, maybe the accident affected his mind too.'

'but DAD! ! , Mom and tricia died already! '

he answered: 'That's not funny bill! if yu're thinking this is the right time to crack pranks.well ITS NOT! ! ..Go to your room! ! '

'but DAD? '!

'NO buts, go to your room.NOW! '

okey, it seems like i really am hallucinating..maybe i came over kelly's house and caused fire and cause of the pressure and i was so scared that i would be charged for the accident i run out of my consciousness..yeah..maybe that's what happened..

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poem by Ellirie Aviles
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The Dream

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

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

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

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

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poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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Life Of A Salesman

What's a dad for dad?
Tell me why I'm here dad
Whisper in my ear that I'm growing up to be a better man, dad
Everything is fine dad
Proud that you are mine dad
Cause I know I'm growing up to be a better man
Father I will always be
That same boy that stood by the sea
And watched you tower over me
Now I'm older I wanna be the same as you
What's a dad for dad?
Taught me how to stand, dad
Took me by the hand and you showed me how to be a bigger man, dad
Listen when you talk, dad
Follow where you walk, dad
And you know that I will always do the best I can
I can
Father I will always be (always be)
That same boy that stood by the sea
And watched you tower over me (over me)
Now I'm older I wanna be the same as you
The same as you
Father I will always be
That same boy that stood by the sea
And watched you tower over me
Now I'm older I wanna be the same as you
When I am a dad, dad x2
I'm gonna be a good dad x2
Do the best you could, dad x2
Always understood, dad x2
Tell me I was right, dad x2
Opened up my eyes, dad x2
Glad to call you my, dad x2
Thank you for my dad x2

song performed by Yellowcard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Life Of A Salesman

What's a dad for dad?
Tell me why I'm here dad
Whisper in my ear that I'm growing up to be a better man, dad
Everything is fine dad
Proud that you are mine dad
Cause I know I'm growing up to be a better man
Father I will always be
That same boy that stood by the sea
And watched you tower over me
Now I'm older I wanna be the same as you
What's a dad for dad?
Taught me how to stand, dad
Took me by the hand and you showed me how to be a bigger man, dad
Listen when you talk, dad
Follow where you walk, dad
And you know that I will always do the best I can
I can
Father I will always be (always be)
That same boy that stood by the sea
And watched you tower over me (over me)
Now I'm older I wanna be the same as you
The same as you
Father I will always be
That same boy that stood by the sea
And watched you tower over me
Now I'm older I wanna be the same as you
When I am a dad, dad x2
I'm gonna be a good dad x2
Do the best you could, dad x2
Always understood, dad x2
Tell me I was right, dad x2
Opened up my eyes, dad x2
Glad to call you my, dad x2
Thank you for my dad x2

song performed by Yellowcard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shadow Hawk episode 3

[Angela’s House] Tuesday Nov 25 9: 23 am
[Angela and her mom are conversating in living room with Sam lying on couch unconscience]
Angela: He’s been out for about four days now
Mom: Who is he?
Angela: I think his name is Sam
Mom: (Places hands on hips) You think! ?
Angela: Mom I found him in the street, he was hurt.
Mom: (outraged) In the street! Angela you don’t know this boy.
Angela: I had to bring him here he was badly wounded. Plus I’m a CN.
Mom: Angela you know your father would be upset. He’s been gone to a business trip in Tokyo for two weeks and He’ll want to sit on his new leather couch.
Angela: I returned the favor.
Mom: What favor? Did you have se……..
Angela: No, he saved my life!
Mom: What?
Angela: (begins to cry) Three men chased me down the street into an alley they were going to mug me or worse. He came to my aide, and even gave me dinner.
Mom: (Embraces Angela and starts crying) I’m glad your alright.
Angela: He saved me mom.
Mom: Well I couldn’t have chosen a better boy to stay in my house. (smiles warmly)
Angela: Thanks for understanding.
Mom: He looks so cute when he’s sleeping.
Angela: I know mom, he looks like a little teddy bear. (they both giggle)
(door bell rings)
Mom: That’s your dad, let me do the talking.
(Opens door)
Dad: Hey honey I’m home.
Mom: I’ve missed you so much. (they kiss)
Dad: So how’s my little angel doing?
Angela: Fine dad. (smiles)
Dad: Well I guess I’ll go watch tv on my new leather couch.
Mom: You know it’s been two weeks Roger mabey we should go up stairs and “talk”.
Dad: Not right now Sarah, I’m tired. (advances towards living room)
Mom: Roger let me give you a back message up stairs.
Dad: No, Sarah.
Angela: You look tired dad why don’t you take a nap.
Dad: I will once I watch a little……. Who the heck is that on my $2,000 couch! ! !
Mom: Calm down Roger.
Dad: There’s blood on my new couch! ! ! !
Angela: Let me explain.
Dad: Yes Angela explain to me why there is some random boy in my house lying on my couch which is blood stained at that!
Mom: The boy was hurt Roger she had to bring him her.
Dad: And you knew about it Sarah?
Mom: Yes.
Dad: I thought we discussed this already!
Angela: He’s hurt dad.
Dad: Hurt! You want hurt I’ll give you hurt! (grabs baseball bat)
Mom: Don’t Roger put it d…….
Dad: Stay out of this Sarah! (goes to hit Sam)
Angela: (Throws herself on Sam) If you hit him you have to hit me too!
Dad: Move Angela.
Angela: No.

[...] Read more

poem by Jesse Overton
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Rosalind and Helen: a Modern Eclogue

ROSALIND, HELEN, and her Child.

SCENE. The Shore of the Lake of Como.

HELEN
Come hither, my sweet Rosalind.
'T is long since thou and I have met;
And yet methinks it were unkind
Those moments to forget.
Come, sit by me. I see thee stand
By this lone lake, in this far land,
Thy loose hair in the light wind flying,
Thy sweet voice to each tone of even
United, and thine eyes replying
To the hues of yon fair heaven.
Come, gentle friend! wilt sit by me?
And be as thou wert wont to be
Ere we were disunited?
None doth behold us now; the power
That led us forth at this lone hour
Will be but ill requited
If thou depart in scorn. Oh, come,
And talk of our abandoned home!
Remember, this is Italy,
And we are exiles. Talk with me
Of that our land, whose wilds and floods,
Barren and dark although they be,
Were dearer than these chestnut woods;
Those heathy paths, that inland stream,
And the blue mountains, shapes which seem
Like wrecks of childhood's sunny dream;
Which that we have abandoned now,
Weighs on the heart like that remorse
Which altered friendship leaves. I seek
No more our youthful intercourse.
That cannot be! Rosalind, speak,
Speak to me! Leave me not! When morn did come,
When evening fell upon our common home,
When for one hour we parted,--do not frown;
I would not chide thee, though thy faith is broken;
But turn to me. Oh! by this cherished token
Of woven hair, which thou wilt not disown,
Turn, as 't were but the memory of me,
And not my scornèd self who prayed to thee!

ROSALIND
Is it a dream, or do I see
And hear frail Helen? I would flee
Thy tainting touch; but former years
Arise, and bring forbidden tears;

[...] Read more

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Beat Down Those Creeps Found

Beat down,
The creeps found.
Sleazing in discreet,
With misdeeds they release.

Beat down,
The creeps found...
Sneaking as they 'peep' who to feed defeat.
Ripping up the streets with their brand of deceit.

Beat down,
The creeps found.
Sleazing in discreet,
With misdeeds they release.

Beat down,
The creeps found...
Sneaking as they 'peep' who to feed defeat.
Ripping up the streets with their brand of deceit.

Get to caring.
And sharing.
With those you held close.
And love the most.
With forgiving that can come...
And forgetting what was done!
When they weren't the only ones...
Lieing on the run!

Get to caring.
And sharing.
Don't wait to repay...
A 'shade' somebody gave to you,
That you should let fade away!

Beat down,
The creeps found.
Sleazing in discreet,
With misdeeds they release.

Beat down,
The creeps found...
Sneaking as they 'peep' who to feed defeat.
Ripping up the streets with their brand of deceit.

Forgive and forget what was done,
When they weren't the only ones lieing on the run!
Or sleazing in discreet with misdeeds they release!
You don't have to be like that to whoever you meet.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dancing In The Streets

Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Dancing in the streets
With any one you got to meet
Moving to the rhythm
Let your body feel the beat
Dancing in the streets
Let your feelings hanging out
Give it all youve got
Keep on dancing, sing and shout!
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Dancing in the streets
With any one you got to meet
Moving to the rhythm
Let your body feel the beat
Dancing in the streets
Let your feelings hanging out
Give it all youve got
Keep on dancing, sing and shout!
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on, keep on, keep on dancing
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on dancing in the streets
Keep on...

song performed by Boney M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto IV.

I.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand:
I saw from out the wave her structures rise
As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand:
A thousand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying Glory smiles
O'er the far times, when many a subject land
Look'd to the winged Lion's marble piles,
Where Venice sate in state, thron'd on her hundred isles!

II.
She looks a sea Cybele, fresh from ocean,
Rising with her tiara of proud towers
At airy distance, with majestic motion,
A ruler of the waters and their powers:
And such she was; her daughters had their dowers
From spoils of nations, and the exhaustless East
Pour'd in her lap all gems in sparkling showers.
In purple was she rob'd, and of her feast
Monarchs partook, and deem'd their dignity increas'd.

III.
In Venice Tasso's echoes are no more,
And silent rows the songless gondolier;
Her palaces are crumbling to the shore,
And music meets not always now the ear:
Those days are gone -- but Beauty still is here.
States fall, arts fade -- but Nature doth not die,
Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy!

IV.
But unto us she hath a spell beyond
Her name in story, and her long array
Of mighty shadows, whose dim forms despond
Above the dogeless city's vanish'd sway;
Ours is a trophy which will not decay
With the Rialto; Shylock and the Moor,
And Pierre, cannot be swept or worn away --
The keystones of the arch! though all were o'er,
For us repeopl'd were the solitary shore.

V.
The beings of the mind are not of clay;
Essentially immortal, they create
And multiply in us a brighter ray
And more belov'd existence: that which Fate
Prohibits to dull life, in this our state

[...] Read more

poem by Byron
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My Needs Not Met

I'm manifesting something brittle.
Something needing special company.
I fiddle-faddled in the middle.
And weakened both batteries.

I'm manifesting something brittle.
And I'm seeking from you empathy...
Cause my baby has had it with me.
And now I find myself...
Walking up and down the streets.

I'm manifesting something brittle.
Something needing special company.
I fiddle-faddled in the middle.
And weakened both batteries.

I'm manifesting something brittle.
And I'm seeking from you empathy...
Cause my baby has had it with me.
And now I find myself...
Walking up and down the streets.

Never thought I'd be the one.
Living on the streets.
Disbelieving...
And living on the streets.
And seeing...
Living on the streets,
My needs not met!
Living on the streets.
And regretting.
Living on the streets.

Never thought I'd be the one.
Living on the streets.
Disbelieving...
And living on the streets.
And seeing...
Living on the streets,
My needs not met!
Living on the streets.
And regretting.
Living on the streets.

Never thought I'd be the one.
Living on the streets.
And seeing...
Living on the streets,
My needs...
Living on the streets,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Inertia Creeps

3d
Recollect me darling raise me to your lips
2 undernourished egos 4 rotating hips
Hold on to me tightly Im a sliding scale
Cant endure then you can inhale
Clearly out of body experience
Interferes and dreams of flying I fit nearly
Surrounds me though I get lonely
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps
Shes moving up slowly
Slowly
Moving up slowly
Interia creeps
Moving up slowly
She comes moving up slowly
She comes moving up slowly
Inertia creeps
Moving up slowly
She comes
Moving up slowly (x2)
In my home no chrome as clear as
See me now with my nearest dearest
Been there when Im over-careering
Room shifting is endearing
Between us is our kitchen
Where she finds my irritants itching
Been here before been here forever
Moving up slowly
Inertia keeps moving up slowly
Inertia creeps moving up slowly
Inertia keeps moving up slowly
She comes
Moving up slowly (x2)
She comes moving up slowly
Inertia creeps moving up slowly
She comes
There be no sound in my eiderdown
Awake I lie in the morning blue
Room is still my antenna in you
Nylon burns the bedspread with 2
Gravity zero see me stall
I bounce off the walls lose my footing and fall
It can be sweet though incomplete though
And the frames will freeze see me on all 4s
Its been a long time
She comes (x2)
Comes
I want to x you, she comes

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song performed by Massive Attack
Added by Lucian Velea
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Annus Mirabilis, The Year Of Wonders, 1666

1
In thriving arts long time had Holland grown,
Crouching at home and cruel when abroad:
Scarce leaving us the means to claim our own;
Our King they courted, and our merchants awed.

2
Trade, which, like blood, should circularly flow,
Stopp'd in their channels, found its freedom lost:
Thither the wealth of all the world did go,
And seem'd but shipwreck'd on so base a coast.

3
For them alone the heavens had kindly heat;
In eastern quarries ripening precious dew:
For them the Idumaean balm did sweat,
And in hot Ceylon spicy forests grew.

4
The sun but seem'd the labourer of the year;
Each waxing moon supplied her watery store,
To swell those tides, which from the line did bear
Their brimful vessels to the Belgian shore.

5
Thus mighty in her ships, stood Carthage long,
And swept the riches of the world from far;
Yet stoop'd to Rome, less wealthy, but more strong:
And this may prove our second Punic war.

6
What peace can be, where both to one pretend?
(But they more diligent, and we more strong)
Or if a peace, it soon must have an end;
For they would grow too powerful, were it long.

7
Behold two nations, then, engaged so far
That each seven years the fit must shake each land:
Where France will side to weaken us by war,
Who only can his vast designs withstand.

8
See how he feeds the Iberian with delays,
To render us his timely friendship vain:
And while his secret soul on Flanders preys,
He rocks the cradle of the babe of Spain.

9
Such deep designs of empire does he lay

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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One Day I'll Make You Proud, Dad......! ! ! ! !

Dad, I'm flunked,
said me.....
Son, never worry,
I'm happy you tried.....
ONE DAY I'LL MAKE YOU PROUD, DAD.....! ! ! ! ! ! !
YOU'LL SON, I RECKON.....

Dad, I'm ditched,
said me, wailing.....
Son, never weep,
I'm happy someone made you realise the pain.....
ONE DAY I'LL MAKE YOU PROUD, DAD.....! ! ! ! ! ! !
YOU'LL SON, I RECKON.....

Dad, I'm expeled,
said me, embarrassed of copying in finals......
son, never shame of mistakes,
I'm happy you admit the wrongdoing......
ONE DAY I'LL MAKE YOU PROUD, DAD.....! ! ! ! ! ! !
YOU'LL SON, I RECKON.....

Dad, I'm sloshed,
said me, apologizing for being like that.....
Son, I'll help you to bed,
I'm happy you learned to apologize.....
ONE DAY I'LL MAKE YOU PROUD, DAD.....! ! ! ! ! ! !
YOU'LL SON, I RECKON.....

Dad, I'm paid,
said me, surrendering first salary....
Son, It's yours, keep it safe,
I'm happy you earned them legitimately.....
ONE DAY I'LL MAKE YOU PROUD, DAD.....! ! ! ! ! ! !
YOU'LL SON, I RECKON.....

Dad, I'm in love,
said me, shivering in fear.....
Son, choose the best, you deserve best,
I'm happy you don't miss mommy's love anymore......
ONE DAY I'LL MAKE YOU PROUD, DAD.....! ! ! ! ! ! !
YOU'LL SON, I RECKON.....

Dad, I'm married,
said me, Kneeling for his blessings....
Son, blessings always on you since your birth,
I'm happy I dont have to sleep with you anymore......
ONE DAY I'LL MAKE YOU PROUD, DAD.....! ! ! ! ! ! !
YOU'LL SON, I RECKON.....

Dad, eventually I'm a dad,

[...] Read more

poem by shinej K.P
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Very Slowly

Tick tock
The moonlights hummin
My fingers on the button and my hob-nobs drummin
Slow down were moving too fast
Better wait a minute make the good times last
Ive learned something bout livin
You dont get nothing if you dont stop givin
We both know that we got so much but there aint no rush
Wanna love you slowly
When you slide on down
Wanna love you slowly turn that body round
You wont be able to control me
When your love slow down
Wanna love you slowly slowly slowly slowly
Slowly..
Hold tight
Love is all I need I guess its sweeter when its more than just a tease
Let me hold you close enough to stick
Love is an illusion lets play that trick
Slow hand moving down my back
If you get a chance u feel my heart attack
Real love has never been a crime
Wanna take my time
Wanna love you slowly
When you slide on down
Wanna love you slowly
And turn that body round
You wont be able to control me
When your love slow down
Wanna love you slowly slowly slowly slowly slowly...
Aah...oah...uah...
Slowly...aah...oah...uah...
Slowly... yeah...aah...oah...uah...
If you get a chance you feel my heart attack
Aah...oah...uah...
Real love has never been a crime
Wanna take my time
Wanna love you slowly
When you slide on down
Wanna love you slowly
And turn that body round
You wont be able to control me
When your love slow down
Wanna love you slowly slowly slowly slowly slowly...
Slowly...aah...oah...uah...slowly...aah...oah...uah...
Slowly... yeah...aah...oah...uah...aah...oah...uah...

song performed by Geri Halliwell
Added by Lucian Velea
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Metamorphoses: Book The Eleventh

HERE, while the Thracian bard's enchanting strain
Sooths beasts, and woods, and all the listn'ing
plain,
The female Bacchanals, devoutly mad,
In shaggy skins, like savage creatures, clad,
Warbling in air perceiv'd his lovely lay,
And from a rising ground beheld him play.
When one, the wildest, with dishevel'd hair,
That loosely stream'd, and ruffled in the air;
Soon as her frantick eye the lyrist spy'd,
See, see! the hater of our sex, she cry'd.
Then at his face her missive javelin sent,
Which whiz'd along, and brusht him as it went;
But the soft wreathes of ivy twisted round,
Prevent a deep impression of the wound.
Another, for a weapon, hurls a stone,
Which, by the sound subdu'd as soon as thrown,
Falls at his feet, and with a seeming sense
Implores his pardon for its late offence.
The Death of But now their frantick rage unbounded grows,
Orpheus Turns all to madness, and no measure knows:
Yet this the charms of musick might subdue,
But that, with all its charms, is conquer'd too;
In louder strains their hideous yellings rise,
And squeaking horn-pipes eccho thro' the skies,
Which, in hoarse consort with the drum, confound
The moving lyre, and ev'ry gentle sound:
Then 'twas the deafen'd stones flew on with speed,
And saw, unsooth'd, their tuneful poet bleed.
The birds, the beasts, and all the savage crew
Which the sweet lyrist to attention drew,
Now, by the female mob's more furious rage,
Are driv'n, and forc'd to quit the shady stage.
Next their fierce hands the bard himself assail,
Nor can his song against their wrath prevail:
They flock, like birds, when in a clustring flight,
By day they chase the boding fowl of night.
So crowded amphitheatres survey
The stag, to greedy dogs a future prey.
Their steely javelins, which soft curls entwine
Of budding tendrils from the leafy vine,
For sacred rites of mild religion made,
Are flung promiscuous at the poet's head.
Those clods of earth or flints discharge, and these
Hurl prickly branches sliver'd from the trees.
And, lest their passion shou'd be unsupply'd,
The rabble crew, by chance, at distance spy'd
Where oxen, straining at the heavy yoke,
The fallow'd field with slow advances broke;
Nigh which the brawny peasants dug the soil,

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poem by Ovid
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The Island Hawk

Hushed are the whimpering winds on the hill,
Dumb is the shrinking plain,
And the songs that enchanted the woods are still
As I shoot to the skies again!
Does the blood grow black on my fierce bent beak,
Does the down still cling to my claw?
Who brightened these eyes for the prey they seek?
Life, I follow thy law!
For I am the hawk, the hawk, the hawk!
Who knoweth my pitiless breast?
Who watcheth me sway in the wild wind's way?
Flee – flee – for I quest, I quest.

As I glide and glide with my peering head,
Or swerve at a puff of smoke,
Who watcheth my wings on the wind outspread,
Here – gone – with an instant stroke?
Who toucheth the glory of life I feel
As I buffet this great glad gale,
Spire and spire to the cloud-world, wheel,
Loosen my wings and sail?
For I am the hawk, the island hawk,
Who knoweth my pitiless breast?
Who watcheth me sway in the sun's bright way?
Flee – flee – for I quest, I quest.

My mate in the nest on the high bright tree
Blazing with dawn and dew,
She knoweth the gleam of the world and the glee
As I drop like a bolt from the blue.
She knoweth the fire of the level flight
As I skim, close, close to the ground,
With the long grass lashing my breast and the bright
Dew-drops flashing around.
She watcheth the hawk, the hawk, the hawk
(Oh, the red-blotched eggs in the nest!)
Watcheth him sway in the sun's bright way.
Flee – flee – for I quest, I quest.

She builded her nest on the high bright wold,
She was taught in a world afar
The lore that is only an April old
Yet old as the evening star.
Life of a far off ancient day
In an hour unhooded her eyes.
In the time of the budding of one green spray
She was wise as the stars are wise.
An eyas in eyry, a yellow-eyed hawk,
On the old elm's burgeoning breast,
She watcheth me sway in the wild wind's way.

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poem by Alfred Noyes
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Haunting

(carly simon)
Theres always someone haunting someone - haunting someone
Like an echo in the wind leaves, unreconciled -
Waiting to be picked up and bounced down again on
Listeners ears
Theres always someone haunting someone - haunting someone
And you know who I am
Though I never leave my name or number
Im locked inside of you so it doesnt matter
Theres always someone haunting someone - haunting someone
And you know who I am
Though I never leave my name or number
Im locked inside of you so it doesnt matter
Theres always someone haunting someone - haunting someone
And I cant sleep easy
cause Im afraid of dreaming
And then the memory of the dream
Theres always someone haunting someone
Haunting someone
Haunting someone

song performed by Carly Simon
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Georgics

GEORGIC I

What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
Or marry elm with vine; how tend the steer;
What pains for cattle-keeping, or what proof
Of patient trial serves for thrifty bees;-
Such are my themes.
O universal lights
Most glorious! ye that lead the gliding year
Along the sky, Liber and Ceres mild,
If by your bounty holpen earth once changed
Chaonian acorn for the plump wheat-ear,
And mingled with the grape, your new-found gift,
The draughts of Achelous; and ye Fauns
To rustics ever kind, come foot it, Fauns
And Dryad-maids together; your gifts I sing.
And thou, for whose delight the war-horse first
Sprang from earth's womb at thy great trident's stroke,
Neptune; and haunter of the groves, for whom
Three hundred snow-white heifers browse the brakes,
The fertile brakes of Ceos; and clothed in power,
Thy native forest and Lycean lawns,
Pan, shepherd-god, forsaking, as the love
Of thine own Maenalus constrains thee, hear
And help, O lord of Tegea! And thou, too,
Minerva, from whose hand the olive sprung;
And boy-discoverer of the curved plough;
And, bearing a young cypress root-uptorn,
Silvanus, and Gods all and Goddesses,
Who make the fields your care, both ye who nurse
The tender unsown increase, and from heaven
Shed on man's sowing the riches of your rain:
And thou, even thou, of whom we know not yet
What mansion of the skies shall hold thee soon,
Whether to watch o'er cities be thy will,
Great Caesar, and to take the earth in charge,
That so the mighty world may welcome thee
Lord of her increase, master of her times,
Binding thy mother's myrtle round thy brow,
Or as the boundless ocean's God thou come,
Sole dread of seamen, till far Thule bow
Before thee, and Tethys win thee to her son
With all her waves for dower; or as a star
Lend thy fresh beams our lagging months to cheer,
Where 'twixt the Maid and those pursuing Claws
A space is opening; see! red Scorpio's self
His arms draws in, yea, and hath left thee more
Than thy full meed of heaven: be what thou wilt-
For neither Tartarus hopes to call thee king,

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poem by Virgil
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Gebir

FIRST BOOK.

I sing the fates of Gebir. He had dwelt
Among those mountain-caverns which retain
His labours yet, vast halls and flowing wells,
Nor have forgotten their old master's name
Though severed from his people here, incensed
By meditating on primeval wrongs,
He blew his battle-horn, at which uprose
Whole nations; here, ten thousand of most might
He called aloud, and soon Charoba saw
His dark helm hover o'er the land of Nile,
What should the virgin do? should royal knees
Bend suppliant, or defenceless hands engage
Men of gigantic force, gigantic arms?
For 'twas reported that nor sword sufficed,
Nor shield immense nor coat of massive mail,
But that upon their towering heads they bore
Each a huge stone, refulgent as the stars.
This told she Dalica, then cried aloud:
'If on your bosom laying down my head
I sobbed away the sorrows of a child,
If I have always, and Heaven knows I have,
Next to a mother's held a nurse's name,
Succour this one distress, recall those days,
Love me, though 'twere because you loved me then.'
But whether confident in magic rites
Or touched with sexual pride to stand implored,
Dalica smiled, then spake: 'Away those fears.
Though stronger than the strongest of his kind,
He falls-on me devolve that charge; he falls.
Rather than fly him, stoop thou to allure;
Nay, journey to his tents: a city stood
Upon that coast, they say, by Sidad built,
Whose father Gad built Gadir; on this ground
Perhaps he sees an ample room for war.
Persuade him to restore the walls himself
In honour of his ancestors, persuade -
But wherefore this advice? young, unespoused,
Charoba want persuasions! and a queen!'
'O Dalica!' the shuddering maid exclaimed,
'Could I encounter that fierce, frightful man?
Could I speak? no, nor sigh!'
'And canst thou reign?'
Cried Dalica; 'yield empire or comply.'
Unfixed though seeming fixed, her eyes downcast,
The wonted buzz and bustle of the court
From far through sculptured galleries met her ear;
Then lifting up her head, the evening sun
Poured a fresh splendour on her burnished throne-

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poem by Walter Savage Landor
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