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Stargirl

Cast: Giancarlo Esposito, Darby Stanchfield, Karan Brar, Shelby Simmons, Grace VanderWaal, Graham Verchere, Maximiliano Hernandez, Damian O'Hare

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The Victories Of Love. Book II

I
From Jane To Her Mother

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

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Lord Krishna

O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

You are the embodiment of love
you are the divine joy,
you are protector of the religion
all pain and sin, you destroy.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

Wicked and cruel king Kansa
put your parents in prison.
You released them from jail
appeared as Vishnu's incarnation.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

As child you led cow herds
had great love for your mother
Grown with magic of your flute
as hero loved by peers and others
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

Kansa sent sinful Putana to kill you
by feeding breast's poisoned milk.
She herself was met to her end
you sucked blood, failed her trick.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

He was desperate to kill my Lord
So he sent many other demons.
You defeated all of the demons
killed his wicked men one by one.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

Supported villagers and cattle,
lifted mountain to make shelter,
You killed poisonous snake in river
where cattle used to drink water.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

Always blessed, who followed your path
taught Arjuna lessons of truth and war.
You turned result of Mahabharat war
into the victory of righteous Pandwas.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!

You come on earth again and again
to save it; in various incarnations.
Without you my Lord! I am nothing
in this universe, nothing can happen.
O my Lord! O my Krishna!

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My Sweet Lord

My sweet lord
Hm, my lord
Hm, my lord
I really want to see you
Really want to be with you
Really want to see you lord
But it takes so long, my lord
My sweet lord
Hm, my lord
Hm, my lord
I really want to know you
Really want to go with you
Really want to show you lord
That it wont take long, my lord (hallelujah)
My sweet lord (hallelujah)
Hm, my lord (hallelujah)
My sweet lord (hallelujah)
I really want to see you
Really want to see you
Really want to see you, lord
Really want to see you, lord
But it takes so long, my lord (hallelujah)
My sweet lord (hallelujah)
Hm, my lord (hallelujah)
My, my, my lord (hallelujah)
I really want to know you (hallelujah)
Really want to go with you (hallelujah)
Really want to show you lord (aaah)
That it wont take long, my lord (hallelujah)
Hmm (hallelujah)
My sweet lord (hallelujah)
My, my, lord (hallelujah)
Hm, my lord (hare krishna)
My, my, my lord (hare krishna)
Oh hm, my sweet lord (krishna, krishna)
Oh-uuh-uh (hare hare)
Now, I really want to see you (hare rama)
Really want to be with you (hare rama)
Really want to see you lord (aaah)
But it takes so long, my lord (hallelujah)
Hm, my lord (hallelujah)
My, my, my lord (hare krishna)
My sweet lord (hare krishna)
My sweet lord (krishna krishna)
My lord (hare hare)
Hm, hm (gurur brahma)
Hm, hm (gurur vishnu)
Hm, hm (gurur devo)
Hm, hm (maheshwara)
My sweet lord (gurur sakshaat)

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The Victories Of Love. Book I

I
From Frederick Graham

Mother, I smile at your alarms!
I own, indeed, my Cousin's charms,
But, like all nursery maladies,
Love is not badly taken twice.
Have you forgotten Charlotte Hayes,
My playmate in the pleasant days
At Knatchley, and her sister, Anne,
The twins, so made on the same plan,
That one wore blue, the other white,
To mark them to their father's sight;
And how, at Knatchley harvesting,
You bade me kiss her in the ring,
Like Anne and all the others? You,
That never of my sickness knew,
Will laugh, yet had I the disease,
And gravely, if the signs are these:

As, ere the Spring has any power,
The almond branch all turns to flower,
Though not a leaf is out, so she
The bloom of life provoked in me;
And, hard till then and selfish, I
Was thenceforth nought but sanctity
And service: life was mere delight
In being wholly good and right,
As she was; just, without a slur;
Honouring myself no less than her;
Obeying, in the loneliest place,
Ev'n to the slightest gesture, grace
Assured that one so fair, so true,
He only served that was so too.
For me, hence weak towards the weak,
No more the unnested blackbird's shriek
Startled the light-leaved wood; on high
Wander'd the gadding butterfly,
Unscared by my flung cap; the bee,
Rifling the hollyhock in glee,
Was no more trapp'd with his own flower,
And for his honey slain. Her power,
From great things even to the grass
Through which the unfenced footways pass,
Was law, and that which keeps the law,
Cherubic gaiety and awe;
Day was her doing, and the lark
Had reason for his song; the dark
In anagram innumerous spelt
Her name with stars that throbb'd and felt;

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Brainwashed

Brainwashed in our childhood
Brainwashed by the school
Brainwashed by our teachers
and brainwashed by their rules
Brainwashed by our leaders
By our Kings and Queens
Brainwashed in the open and brainwashed
behind the scenes
God God God
A voice cried in the wilderness
God God God
it was on the longest night
God God God
An eternity of darkness
God God God
Someone turned out the spiritual light
Brainwashed by the Nikkei
Brainwashed by Dow Jones
Brainwashed by the FTSE
Nasdaq and secure loans
Brainwashed us from Brussels
Brainwashing us in Bonn
Brainwashing us in Washington
Westminster in London
God God God
You are the wisdom that we seek
God God God
The lover that we miss
God God God
Your nature is eternity
God God God
You are Existance, Knowlwedge, Bliss
The soul does not love, it is love itself
It does not exist, It is existence itself
It does not know, It is knowledge itself
"How to Know God" Page 130
They brainwashed my great uncle
Brainwashed my cousin Bob
They even got my grandma when she was
working for the mob
Brainwash you while you're sleeping
While you're in a traffic jam
Brainwash you while you're weeping
While still a baby in your pram
Brainwashed by the Military
Brainwashed under duress
Brainwashed by the media
You're brainwashed by the press
Brainwashed by computer
Brainwashed by mobile phones

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The Story Of The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles

This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.
Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching. sitting on a
Fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close
By.
Now this may not seem strange, but when owl overheard kangaroo whisper
To no one in particular, ''the hare has lost his spectacles, well, he
Began to wonder.
Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on
The grass was hare. in the stream that flowed by the grass -- a
Newt. and sitting astride a twig of a bush -- a bee.
Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement, for
Without his spectacles he was completely helpless. where were his
Spectacles? could someone have stolen them? had he mislaid them? what
Was he to do?
Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began: ''you
Probably ate them thinking they were a carrot.
''no! interrupted owl, who was wise. ''i have good eye-sight, insight,
And foresight. how could an intelligent hare make such a silly
Mistake? but all this time, owl had been sitting on the fence,
Scowling!
Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk. she thought herself
Far superior in intelligence to the others. she was their leader;
Their guru. she had the answer: ''hare, you must go in search of the
Optician.
But then she realized that hare was completely helpless without his
Spectacles. and so, kangaroo loudly proclaimed, ''i cant send hare in
Search of anything!
''you can guru, you can! shouted newt. ''you can send him with owl.
But owl had gone to sleep. newt knew too much to be stopped by so
Small a problem -- ''you can take him in your pouch. but alas, hare
Was much too big to fit into kangaroos pouch.
All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew
Nothing about spectacles.
As for all their tempting ideas, well hare didnt care.
The lost spectacles were his own affair.
And after all, hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.

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No Thugs In Our House

Cast of characters
Graham, a teenager
Mother, a busy housewife
Father, a conservative husband
Policeman, a young constable
Scene: a kitchen in suburbia, one bright saturday morning
Act one
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. her husband burns his paper, sucks his pipe while studying
Their cushion-floor, his viscous poly-paste breath comes out. their
Wall-paper world is shattered by his shout. a boy in blue is busy
Banging out a headache on the kitchen door. all the while graham
Slept on, dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted
To.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Act two
Narrator: the young policeman who just can't grow a moustache will
Open up his book, and spoil their breakfast with reports of asians who
Have been so badly kicked.
Policeman: is this your son's wallet i've got here? he must have
Dropped it after too much beer!
Mother: oh, officer, we can't believe our little angel is the one
You've picked.
Narrator: and all the while graham slept on, dreaming of a world
Where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Narrator: they never read those pamphlets in his bottom drawer.
Policeman: they never read that tattoo on his arm.
Narrator: they thought that was just a boys club badge he wore.
Policeman: they never thought he'd do folks any harm.
Act three
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. she's singing something stale and simple now this business has
Fizzled out. her little tune is such a happy song. her son is
Innocent, he can't do wrong, 'cos dad's a judge and knows exactly what
The job of judging's all about. and all the while graham slept on,
Dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Mother: no thugs in our house!
Father: no thugs in our house!
Complete cast (in unison): no thugs in our house, dear!

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No Thugs In Our House

Cast of characters
Graham, a teenager
Mother, a busy housewife
Father, a conservative husband
Policeman, a young constable
Scene: a kitchen in suburbia, one bright saturday morning
Act one
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. her husband burns his paper, sucks his pipe while studying
Their cushion-floor, his viscous poly-paste breath comes out. their
Wall-paper world is shattered by his shout. a boy in blue is busy
Banging out a headache on the kitchen door. all the while graham
Slept on, dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted
To.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Act two
Narrator: the young policeman who just can't grow a moustache will
Open up his book, and spoil their breakfast with reports of asians who
Have been so badly kicked.
Policeman: is this your son's wallet i've got here? he must have
Dropped it after too much beer!
Mother: oh, officer, we can't believe our little angel is the one
You've picked.
Narrator: and all the while graham slept on, dreaming of a world
Where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Narrator: they never read those pamphlets in his bottom drawer.
Policeman: they never read that tattoo on his arm.
Narrator: they thought that was just a boys club badge he wore.
Policeman: they never thought he'd do folks any harm.
Act three
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. she's singing something stale and simple now this business has
Fizzled out. her little tune is such a happy song. her son is
Innocent, he can't do wrong, 'cos dad's a judge and knows exactly what
The job of judging's all about. and all the while graham slept on,
Dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Mother: no thugs in our house!
Father: no thugs in our house!
Complete cast (in unison): no thugs in our house, dear!

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The Court Of Love

With timerous hert and trembling hand of drede,
Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,
Unto the flour of port in womanhede
I write, as he that non intelligence
Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence;
Sauf that me list my writing to convey,
In that I can to please her hygh nobley.


The blosmes fresshe of Tullius garden soote
Present thaim not, my mater for to borne:
Poemes of Virgil taken here no rote,
Ne crafte of Galfrid may not here sojorne:
Why nam I cunning? O well may I morne,
For lak of science that I can-not write
Unto the princes of my life a-right


No termes digne unto her excellence,
So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:
A world of honour and of reverence
There is in her, this wil I testifie.
Calliope, thou sister wise and sly,
And thou, Minerva, guyde me with thy grace,
That langage rude my mater not deface.


Thy suger-dropes swete of Elicon
Distill in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;
And thee, Melpomene, I calle anon,
Of ignoraunce the mist to chace away;
And give me grace so for to write and sey,
That she, my lady, of her worthinesse,
Accepte in gree this litel short tretesse,


That is entitled thus, 'The Court of Love.'
And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,
I you besech, for Venus sake above;
For what I mene in this ye need not muse:
And if so be my lady it refuse
For lak of ornat speche, I wold be wo,
That I presume to her to writen so.


But myn entent and all my besy cure
Is for to write this tretesse, as I can,
Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,
Feithfull and kind, sith first that she began
Me to accept in service as her man:

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Cyberraga

Ohm sri guru bjor namaha
Hare Ohm
Svastika jabyaha
Pari va layanta
Meeahyayna margayna

Ma he ma he saha gobra nebyaha
Soomastu leetum
Nocah samasta
Sukino lavantoo
Cay yeahna bacha mana sen greeyarva
Boodyajmah nava brakri tes bavalvat
Cahrohn viel eyat
Saka lamparasmai
Naray anai aytee samarpayavee

Hare Ohm gotsade
Hare Ohm gotsade
Hare Ohm gotsade
Hare Ohm

Svastika jabyaha
Pari va layantah
Meeahyaynah margayna
Ma he ma he saha gobra nebyaha
Soomastu leetum
Nocah samasta
Sukino lavantoo
Cay yeahna bacha mana sen greeyarva
Boodyajmah nava brakri tes bavalvat
Cahrohn viel eyat
Saka lamparasmai
Naray anai aytee samarpayavee

Hare Ohm gotsade
Hare Ohm gotsade
Hare Ohm gotsade
Hare Ohm

Translation:

May all be well with mankind
May the leaders of the earth in every way
Protect the earth by keeping to the right path

May there always be goodness
For those who know the earth to be sacred
May all the world be happy

Whatever I do

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Hare Krishna, prayer

O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Krishna! Krishna!


You are the embodiment of love
you are the divine joy,
you are protector of the religion
all pain and sin, you destroy.
O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!


Wicked and cruel king Kansa
put your parents in prison.
You released them from jail
appeared as Vishnu's incarnation.

O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare....


As child you led cow herds
had great love for your mother
Grown with magic of your flute
as hero loved by peers and others

O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare...


Kansa sent sinful Putana to kill you
by feeding breast's poisoned milk.
She herself was met to her end
you sucked blood, failed her trick.

O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare...


He was desperate to kill my Lord
So he sent many other demons.
You defeated all of the demons
killed his wicked men one by one.

O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare...


Supported villagers and the cattle,
lifted mountain to make it shelter,
You killed poisonous snake in river
where cattle used to drink the water.

O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare...

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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 19

Thus I awaked and wroot what I hadde ydremed,
And dighte me derely, and dide me to chirche,
To here holly the masse and to be housled after.
In myddes of the masse, tho men yede to offryng,
I fel eftsoones aslepe - and sodeynly me mette
That Piers the Plowman was peynted al blody,
And com in with a cros bifore the comune peple,
And right lik in alle lymes to Oure Lord Jesu.
And thanne called I Conscience to kenne me the sothe
'Is this Jesus the justere,' quod I, 'that Jewes dide to dethe?
Or it is Piers the Plowman! Who peynted hym so rede?'
Quod Conscience, and kneled tho, ' Thise arn Piers armes -
Hise colours and his cote armure; ac he that cometh so blody
Is Crist with his cros, conquerour of Cristene.'
'Why calle ye hym Crist?' quod I, 'sithen Jewes called hym Jesus?
Patriarkes and prophetes prophecied bifore
That alle kynne creatures sholden knelen and bowen
Anoon as men nempned the name of God Jesu.
Ergo is no name to the name of Jesus,
Ne noon so nedeful to nempne by nyghte ne by daye.
For alle derke develes arn adrad to heren it,
And synfulle aren solaced and saved by that name;
And ye callen hym Crist; for what cause, telleth me?
Is Crist moore of myght and moore worthi name
Than Jesu or Jesus, that al oure joye com of?'
'Thow knowest wel,' quod Conscience, 'and thow konne reson,
That knyght, kyng, conquerour may be o persone.
To be called a knyght is fair, for men shul knele to hym;
To be called a kyng is fairer, for he may knyghtes make;
Ac to be conquerour called, that cometh of special grace,
And of hardynesse of herte and of hendemesse -
To make lordes of laddes, of lond that he wynneth,
And fre men foule thralles, that folwen noght hise lawes.

'The Jewes, that were gentil men, Jesu thei despised -
Bothe his loore and his lawe; now are thei lowe cherles.
As wide as the world is, wonyeth ther noon
But under tribut and taillage as tikes and cherles;
And tho that bicome Cristene bi counseil of the Baptiste
Aren frankeleyns, free men thorugh fullynge that thei toke
And gentil men with Jesu - for Jesus was yfulled
And upon Calvarie on cros ycrouned kyng of Jewes.
' It bicometh to a kyng to kepe and to defende,
And conqueror of his conquest hise lawes and his large.
And so dide Jesus the Jewes - he justified and taughte hem
The lawe of lif that laste shal evere,
And fended from foule yveles, feveres and fiuxes,
And from fendes that in hem was, and false bileve.
Tho was he Jesus of Jewes called, gentile prophete,
And kyng of hir kyngdom, and croune bar of thornes.

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From The Banks Of Ganga: V

I open my eyes
Non-light on the Ganga
Breaking into dawn
A la Kubja stood as if waiting
For me to open my eyes
Kabhie Krishna ko dekha?
Chalo meri saath!

Like a mute animal
I follow her into a chamber
Where a marble Krishna welcomed me
How long did I sit in His presence?
Hare Rama hare rama
Rama Rama Hare hare
Hare Krishna Hare Krishna
Krishna Krishna Hare Hare
My own chanting
Reverberating in my ears

There flowed Ganga
In bright sunlight…

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Hari Chrishna

People with light orange cloaks
comes pass in a jolly procession.
There are two hitting drums
and one sings over a loudspeaker horn
and I see a few
getting rattling noises out of cymbals
that makes the people
on the sidewalk stand still
while the small group of people
draws attention and pass.

It’s a shrill “hare krishna hare krishna
krishna krishna hare hare
hare rama hare rama
rama rama hare hare
that goes right through you
and I wonder
what the strange words
are exactly saying
and I hear how the drums
keeps the earthly rhythm
and it’s like a street circus
that disappears in the distance
while they disappear behind buildings.

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Pearl

Pearl of delight that a prince doth please
To grace in gold enclosed so clear,
I vow that from over orient seas
Never proved I any in price her peer.
So round, so radiant ranged by these,
So fine, so smooth did her sides appear
That ever in judging gems that please
Her only alone I deemed as dear.
Alas! I lost her in garden near:
Through grass to the ground from me it shot;
I pine now oppressed by love-wound drear
For that pearl, mine own, without a spot.

2
Since in that spot it sped from me,
I have looked and longed for that precious thing
That me once was wont from woe to free,
To uplift my lot and healing bring,
But my heart doth hurt now cruelly,
My breast with burning torment sting.
Yet in secret hour came soft to me
The sweetest song I e'er heard sing;
Yea, many a thought in mind did spring
To think that her radiance in clay should rot.
O mould! Thou marrest a lovely thing,
My pearl, mine own, without a spot.

3
In that spot must needs be spices spread
Where away such wealth to waste hath run;
Blossoms pale and blue and red
There shimmer shining in the sun;
No flower nor fruit their hue may shed
Where it down into darkling earth was done,
For all grass must grow from grains that are dead,
No wheat would else to barn be won.
From good all good is ever begun,
And fail so fair a seed could not,
So that sprang and sprouted spices none
From that precious pearl without a spot.

4
That spot whereof I speak I found
When I entered in that garden green,
As August's season high came round
When corn is cut with sickles keen.
There, where that pearl rolled down, a mound
With herbs was shadowed fair and sheen,
With gillyflower, ginger, and gromwell crowned,
And peonies powdered all between.

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Our God is a God of mercy and of grace. (Gerald Albright's Kicking it up #6)

God, I just do not understand why
You treat me so good everyday.
In spite of all of my sins and all of my mistakes,
You are still good to me.
Yes, you are; my God really is.

My God is so wonderful.
He has provided for all of my needs.
He created the sun to shine brightly everyday.
God has supplied the very air that I breathe.
Yes, He does.

My God is so good to me each day.
He has provided for all of my needs.
God sends out the cooling invisible breeze.
He produced all of the food that I eat.
Yes he does; now help me say it.

Our God is a God of mercy.
He truly deserves all of our praise.
Our God is a God of mercy and of grace.
O’ Yes, I know that our God is.

Our God is a God of mercy.
He wakes us up every single day.
Our God is a God of mercy and of grace.
O’ Yes, I know that our God is.

My God is so wonderful.
He provides me with His grace each day.
All I need to do is confess my sins to Him,
He has promised to forgive every one.
Yes, He does.
All that God has ask me to do
Is give to Him all of my praise every day.
By the life that I have chosen to live
I must show the world that my God is.
Now open your mouth and help me praise Him.

Our God is a God of mercy.
He truly deserves all of our praise.
Our God is a God of mercy and of grace.
O’ Yes, I know that our God is.

Our God is a God of mercy.
He wakes us up every single day.
Our God is a God of mercy and of grace.
O’ Yes, I know that our God is.

Our God is a God of mercy and of grace.

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The Death Of A Hare

He ran across in front of his car confused in the headlight's glare
He heard a bump he could not stop he knew he had killed the hare
Another car followed close behind so he had to drive on
'Twas not his fault though that in itself of no consolation to Ron.

And though the hare he could not avoid about it he feels bad
For the creature his car killed last night today he does feel sad
Though the hare he did have a quick end and did not suffer any pain
That his car should have caused it's death the regret with him does remain.

When he tells his friends about last night they tell him it's okay
The poor hare you could not avoid such things happen every day
That was how the hare was meant to die it was it's destiny
At least it did not suffer pain and death came suddenly.

A wildborn creature dead on the roadway is not an uncommon sight
But he does feel quite sad today that he killed a hare last night
He is compassionate of heart his type of person rare
It saddens him to think last night he caused the death of a hare.

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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

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The Believer's Jointure : Chapter II.

Containing the Marks and Characters of the Believer in Christ; together with some further privileges and grounds of comfort to the Saints.

Sect. I.


Doubting Believers called to examine, by marks drawn from their love to Him and his presence, their view of his glory, and their being emptied of Self-Righteousness, &c.


Good news! but, says the drooping bride,
Ah! what's all this to me?
Thou doubt'st thy right, when shadows hide
Thy Husband's face from thee.

Though sin and guilt thy spirit faints,
And trembling fears thy fate;
But harbour not thy groundless plaints,
Thy Husband's advent wait.

Thou sobb'st, 'O were I sure he's mine,
This would give glad'ning ease;'
And say'st, Though wants and woes combine,
Thy Husband would thee please.

But up and down, and seldom clear,
Inclos'd with hellish routs;
Yet yield thou not, nor foster fear:
Thy Husband hates thy doubts.

Thy cries and tears may slighted seem,
And barr'd from present ease;
Yet blame thyself, but never dream
Thy Husband's ill to please.

Thy jealous unbelieving heart
Still droops, and knows not why;
Then prove thyself to ease thy smart,
Thy Husband bids the try.

The following questions put to the
As scripture-marks, may tell
And shew, what'er thy failings be,
Thy Husband loves thee well.


MARKS.

Art thou content when he's away?
Can earth allay thy pants?
If conscience witness, won't it say,
Thy Husband's all thou wants?

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Sixty Seconds

Damian dame, qt (left eye), & boz (t-boz)
(appears on damian dame's self-entitled album)
Yo what up
Hit a q.u.e.s.t.i.o.n.
Oh about the war?
The war?
But i'm sayin' yo
D-damian dame
What is goin' on
Because the squabblin' is just insane
What's goin' on as a brother used to say
Kinda makes you think about back in that day
Peace was the word or haven't you heard
All this hype about war is absurd
What's goin' around comes around
Vietnam relived (yeah)
It's the same old sound
Missiles gliding families dividing
The american dream
Is quickly declining
Depression opression i thought we learned a lesson
From the last time
Nobody wants to stand in the cheese and bread line
Not me see (nah ah)
Recycled generations of love and war
And the question of what!
What we fighting for?
Killin' for oil 'cause we're spoiled with luxury
They gotta have it
So saddam got rushed g
It got crazy and civilians were hit you see (damn)
A thud a scud all for what
It's time to begin the end
Somebody give it up
Sixty seconds turn off the news
'cause every channel
Who shot who
Ain't no glory
'cause in the end it will be his-story
So we might as well stop!

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