Latest quotes | Random quotes | Vote! | Latest comments | Add quote

The Father

Cast: Olivia Colman, Anthony Hopkins, Mark Gatiss, Olivia Williams, Imogen Poots, Rufus Sewell, Ayesha Dharker

trailer for The Father, directed by Florian Zeller, screenplay, inspired by Florian Zeller (2020)Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Related quotes

Allegany Camp

amazing grace circus camp
amazing grace day camp
amazing grace hallelujah jeremy camp
amazing grace jeremy camp
amazing love jeremy camp
amazing place chalet pigeon forge
amazing race church camp
amazing race games for camps
amazing race girl scout camp
amazon camp dutch lodge oven
amazon camp in sweetwater missouri
amazon cast iron dutch lodge camp
amazon dutch oven camp
amazon lodge dutch oven camp
ambassador camp at lake waccamaw nc
ambassador camp inc
ambassador chalet
ambassador chalet at doral
ambassador chalet wgc
amber bowers
amber camp lazlo
amber pow camp
amberg germany dp camp
ambition camp hockey pro
ambler baseball camp
ambleside scotland school camp
ambon pow camp
ambor island pow camp
ambor pow camp
ambulance bower
amc camp dodge
amc camp movie summer
amc camp summer theater
amc little lyford camps
amc movie camp
amc movie camps
amc north west camp bear mountain
amc pinkham notch camp
amc summer camp for s
amc summer camp for s 2007
amc summer camp movies
amc summer movie camp
amc summer movie camp 2007
amc summer movie camp 2008
amc summer movie camp arlington
amc summer movie camp ontario california
amc theater camp hill
amc theatres summer camp
amcmovie camps
amelia earhart in japanese war camp

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Where Is Rufus and What did Rufus Do?

Where is Rufus?
Was he walking down Fifth Avenue?
Was he carrying his 'light'...
To shine upon the masses leaning
On the slime slicked walls,
Of the caverns he enjoys?

Where is that boy?
'Rufus? '

I'm surprised he's not behind you now,
Minting his breath with peppermint shield...
As If to conceal his devotion to rock bottom!
Trying to hide the current 'opportunities' taken!
Everyone knows Rufus when he's 'fakin'!
There is no mistaking that!
A 'fakin' crook will hold you back!

Where is Rufus?
I thought you two met on Trumbull and Pratt?
Remember I was 'told' to stay where I was at?
You've got to remember how I balled my fist?
You don't remember this?
How about my ready to fight tight lips?

When you do see Rufus...
Tell him I want my wallet back!
I'm not a grinning politician,
I will kick his ass for that!
If he wants to see me evil...
Evil will be his in attack!
I'm not on that kind of mission,
I've reconditioned my position!

I hate to see him strung out like this,
He needs to end my suspicions,
By facing his condition!

'RUFUS? '

Where is Rufus?
Don't hide his lieing ways,
Or try to keep him from his grave!
Unless you're here to get your pay!
Where is Rufus?
And what did he say?
And why are you looking,
Like you laid Rufus away?

Did he take you like he took me too?

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Aunt Imogen

Aunt Imogen was coming, and therefore
The children—Jane, Sylvester, and Young George—
Were eyes and ears; for there was only one
Aunt Imogen to them in the whole world,
And she was in it only for four weeks
In fifty-two. But those great bites of time
Made all September a Queen’s Festival;
And they would strive, informally, to make
The most of them.—The mother understood,
And wisely stepped away. Aunt Imogen
Was there for only one month in the year,
While she, the mother,—she was always there;
And that was what made all the difference.
She knew it must be so, for Jane had once
Expounded it to her so learnedly
That she had looked away from the child’s eyes
And thought; and she had thought of many things.

There was a demonstration every time
Aunt Imogen appeared, and there was more
Than one this time. And she was at a loss
Just how to name the meaning of it all:
It puzzled her to think that she could be
So much to any crazy thing alive—
Even to her sister’s little savages
Who knew no better than to be themselves;
But in the midst of her glad wonderment
She found herself besieged and overcome
By two tight arms and one tumultuous head,
And therewith half bewildered and half pained
By the joy she felt and by the sudden love
That proved itself in childhood’s honest noise.
Jane, by the wings of sex, had reached her first;
And while she strangled her, approvingly,
Sylvester thumped his drum and Young George howled.
But finally, when all was rectified,
And she had stilled the clamor of Young George
By giving him a long ride on her shoulders,
They went together into the old room
That looked across the fields; and Imogen
Gazed out with a girl’s gladness in her eyes,
Happy to know that she was back once more
Where there were those who knew her, and at last
Had gloriously got away again
From cabs and clattered asphalt for a while;
And there she sat and talked and looked and laughed
And made the mother and the children laugh.
Aunt Imogen made everybody laugh.

There was the feminine paradox—that she

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Brent River Bride

Flow proudly fair river,
For one who fell under
Your spell was the liver
Doc, Gershon - asunder
Found all his plans, muddled
By nymphs of the water -
He greatly befuddled
Then married the daughter
Of Count Joe of Wandle
Far south of the city
And went on to fondle
Her milk flowing titty.
I send this wet letter
To Brentische planners;
Such amour is better
Than yekkishe manners.

LRH
6.5.06 In reply to GWH's Bride of Brent of 6.5.06

Bride of Brent

Unlike Lucia from far Lammermoor,
fair Linda, hailing from far Chaumonix,
excels when she’s preparing salmon or
deep-frying spuds and spinach that aren’t gammony.

She tried to keep the frog which wooing went
outside the net she guarded as a goalie
till she became the Bride of River Brent
and played the role of Princess Rowley-Powley.

The frog, he always used to say “Heigh-ho, '
because he knew that he could never find a
more lovely princess once she’d kissed him so
he was more charmed than Chaumonix by Linda.

Inspired by Linda, who married me at the Brent Bridge Hotel in August 1996, and by “A frog he would a-wooing go”: [Old folk song].

A Frog he would a-wooing go,
Heigho! says Rowley,
Whether his mother would let him or no.
With a rowley, powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho! says Anthony Rowley.

So off he set with his opera hat,
Heigho! says Rowley,
And on the way he met with a Rat.
With a rowley, powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigho! says Anthony Rowley.

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Thurso’s Landing

I
The coast-road was being straightened and repaired again,
A group of men labored at the steep curve
Where it falls from the north to Mill Creek. They scattered and hid
Behind cut banks, except one blond young man
Who stooped over the rock and strolled away smiling
As if he shared a secret joke with the dynamite;
It waited until he had passed back of a boulder,
Then split its rock cage; a yellowish torrent
Of fragments rose up the air and the echoes bumped
From mountain to mountain. The men returned slowly
And took up their dropped tools, while a banner of dust
Waved over the gorge on the northwest wind, very high
Above the heads of the forest.
Some distance west of the road,
On the promontory above the triangle
Of glittering ocean that fills the gorge-mouth,
A woman and a lame man from the farm below
Had been watching, and turned to go down the hill. The young
woman looked back,
Widening her violet eyes under the shade of her hand. 'I think
they'll blast again in a minute.'
And the man: 'I wish they'd let the poor old road be. I don't
like improvements.' 'Why not?' 'They bring in the world;
We're well without it.' His lameness gave him some look of age
but he was young too; tall and thin-faced,
With a high wavering nose. 'Isn't he amusing,' she said, 'that
boy Rick Armstrong, the dynamite man,
How slowly he walks away after he lights the fuse. He loves to
show off. Reave likes him, too,'
She added; and they clambered down the path in the rock-face,
little dark specks
Between the great headland rock and the bright blue sea.

II
The road-workers had made their camp
North of this headland, where the sea-cliff was broken down and
sloped to a cove. The violet-eyed woman's husband,
Reave Thurso, rode down the slope to the camp in the gorgeous
autumn sundown, his hired man Johnny Luna
Riding behind him. The road-men had just quit work and four
or five were bathing in the purple surf-edge,
The others talked by the tents; blue smoke fragrant with food
and oak-wood drifted from the cabin stove-pipe
And slowly went fainting up the vast hill.
Thurso drew rein by
a group of men at a tent door
And frowned at them without speaking, square-shouldered and
heavy-jawed, too heavy with strength for so young a man,
He chose one of the men with his eyes. 'You're Danny Woodruff,

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Epitaph on an Unread Verse after William Carlos Williams' Red Wheelbarrow

This is just to play on plum phrases
hibernating in your brainbox,
which your neurones were probably waiting for
to break free fast.

Forgive me their taste is delicious,
so neat and so bold.

An agèd poet with hollow laughter
swiftly sprayed her incisive syllables
in consonant activity and, yearning,
paid [s]lip service:

so much depends
upon lifelong learning's expectations,
an unread verse [s]pokes for comments,
reigns above lily-livered chicken-hearted critics
before a blank screen.

so much more depends
upon monochromatic ash clouds
glazed with silicates
beside Icelandic
eruptions.

Life is verse role-reversing uninclined ignorance
shadowing dis...inclined ink lined page.

(Revised 3 October 2009 and19 Aptil 2010)

This is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
William Carlos Williams 1883_1963

Variation on a Theme by William Carlos Williams
1 I chopped down the house that you had been saving to live in next summer. I am sorry, but it was morning, and I had nothing to do and its wooden beams were so inviting.

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Miss Reid's Speed Seeds Misread Red Weed Barrow Greed Screed

Miss Reid's Speed Seeds Misread Red Weed Barrow Greed Screed


So much depends upon callow Monsanto’s
arrow minded rein reign
glazed with gain and, again, phrased with pain,

wheedling sallow farmers who see red
forced to furrow b[l]ushels of transgenic sterile crop seeds
on narrow plain
lots which soon lie fallow
rather than wide marrow
raised with rain
and fertile appetizers

Need greed's speed weed reeds
beside white ants’
terror might nest?


Fazed again, who chickens out of errors?

12 October 2009 robi3_1928_will5_0006 PVW_JNX
Parody William Carlos Williams 1883_1963 The Red Wheelbarrow


The Red Wheelbarrow

so much depends
upon
a red
wheelbarrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens


William Carlos WILLIAMS 1883_1963

WILLIAMS William Carlos 1883_1963 will5_0001_will5_0000 PXX_NXX The Red Wheelbarrow_So Much Depends
__________________

The Yellow Goldfish

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament (excerpt)

Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a wither'd leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday,
Came Tristram, saying, "Why skip ye so, Sir Fool?"

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail. A stump of oak half-dead.
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes,
Clutch'd at the crag, and started thro' mid air
Bearing an eagle's nest: and thro' the tree
Rush'd ever a rainy wind, and thro' the wind
Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree
Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest,
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck,
And all unscarr'd from beak or talon, brought
A maiden babe; which Arthur pitying took,
Then gave it to his Queen to rear: the Queen
But coldly acquiescing, in her white arms
Received, and after loved it tenderly,
And named it Nestling; so forgot herself
A moment, and her cares; till that young life
Being smitten in mid heaven with mortal cold
Past from her; and in time the carcanet
Vext her with plaintive memories of the child:
So she, delivering it to Arthur, said,
"Take thou the jewels of this dead innocence,
And make them, an thou wilt, a tourney-prize."

To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."

"Would rather you had let them fall," she cried,
"Plunge and be lost--ill-fated as they were,
A bitterness to me!--ye look amazed,
Not knowing they were lost as soon as given--
Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out
Above the river--that unhappy child
Past in her barge: but rosier luck will go
With these rich jewels, seeing that they came
Not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer,

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

The Last Tournament

Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a withered leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday,
Came Tristram, saying, `Why skip ye so, Sir Fool?'

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail. A stump of oak half-dead,
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes,
Clutched at the crag, and started through mid air
Bearing an eagle's nest: and through the tree
Rushed ever a rainy wind, and through the wind
Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree
Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest,
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck,
And all unscarred from beak or talon, brought
A maiden babe; which Arthur pitying took,
Then gave it to his Queen to rear: the Queen
But coldly acquiescing, in her white arms
Received, and after loved it tenderly,
And named it Nestling; so forgot herself
A moment, and her cares; till that young life
Being smitten in mid heaven with mortal cold
Past from her; and in time the carcanet
Vext her with plaintive memories of the child:
So she, delivering it to Arthur, said,
`Take thou the jewels of this dead innocence,
And make them, an thou wilt, a tourney-prize.'

To whom the King, `Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear.'

`Would rather you had let them fall,' she cried,
`Plunge and be lost-ill-fated as they were,
A bitterness to me!-ye look amazed,
Not knowing they were lost as soon as given-
Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out
Above the river-that unhappy child
Past in her barge: but rosier luck will go
With these rich jewels, seeing that they came
Not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer,

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Two in the Head

Zenobia Jackson told Officer Murphy
that her husband, Rufus,73 years old,
was 'a wonderful man when he was awake'
but he had been jerking 'something terrible'
during his sleep and kept waking her up.

He'd swing his arms, she said,
like all those martial arts men on television.
But when the bouts were over, he'd kiss her
on the forehead and go to bed.
'He was just a doll, ' she said,
'when he was awake.'

In the last month, however,
Rufus had fallen out of bed three times
'fighting' in his dreams.
In the morning he'd explain
he had been dreaming
that he was in a fight at work.
Sometimes he dreamt
he was shooting at burglars
breaking into their house
in the old neighborhood.
That's why they had to move

and that's why he bought a gun,
a little pistol he kept under his pillow.
He even taught her how to shoot one night
when no one else was on the tennis courts
in Sherman Park. She was pretty good, he said,
because most women can't aim.

But last night, she said, Rufus was dreaming again
and he swung his arms like he was chopping
sugar cane in Louisiana before they moved North.
He caught her with an elbow to the eye
and another to the nose just as she was ducking.

Long ago, she'd stopped trying to wake him
because of the pistol under his pillow.
He had reached for it once after she had shaken him.
She screamed and that woke him up
and he wasn't too happy about it.
He said he couldn't sleep the rest of the night.
And he wasn't lying because she was awake all night, too,
listening to him grumble and curse.

A week ago she had taken Rufus to a sleep clinic
where he had stayed overnight and the doctor said
he was suffering from sleep apnea. But she had never heard

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Murder in 1654 - Broadsheet

Title: A true relation of a horrid MURDER committed upon the person of Thomas Kidderminster at the White Horse Inn in Chelmsford in the County of Essex in the month of April 1654

It was in the year of '54
Foul murder did occur
A traveller came to a Chelmsford inn
Then died in blood and gore
He only meant to rest one night
As to London he made his way
But he remained for many years more
While his ghost refused to lay

Tom Kidd had been to Huntingdon
Where family lands he'd sold
Weary he came to the White Horse Inn
With his cloak-bag full of gold
Travel-tired though Tom might be
His face it surely smiled
For the very next day he'd be at home
With his loving wife and child

The keeper, Sewell, who ran the inn
Tom knew from earlier time
Could not resist his scheming wife
Who'd hatched an awful crime
By sad mischance the landlord's wife
Saw gold bright in the light
And so it quickly came to pass
there was red blood in the night

The flash of golden sovereigns
had fired her evil greed
'Husband I will be the brains
And you will do the deed'
As Tom retired to bed that night
For the last time in his life
Between the sheets he dreamed sweet dreams
Of his children and his wife

His wife she waited patiently
But then she had great fears
For Tom never came as he said he would
There was silence for 13 years
All her enquiries drew a blank
Of Tom there was never a trace
Except unknown to those searching for him
Strange happenings in the place

The rooms upstairs were seldom quiet
A ghost prowled night and day
So the landlord and his wife took fright

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Mad Issues

[Angie] Uh huh
[Rufus] Hey baby
[Angie] I think I wanna just rap to ya for just a second
[Rufus] 'Bout what
[Angie] Cuz there's some things we got to change
In order to move forward
[Rufus] Whatchu talking about?
[Angie] Because I believe in you
[Rufus] You believe in me?
[Angie] All things are possible
[Rufus] Uh huh
[Angie] You just chill

song performed by Angie Stone from Mahogany SoulReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Twist It Feat. Lloyd Banks

[Olivia:] I make it hot...
[Lloyd Banks:] G-Unit
[Olivia:] I make it hot
[Lloyd Banks:]
Olivia, let's go
What's up ladies, I'm back baby
The boy wonder got the club goin' crazy
I'm two-steppin' in my armor in my 80
But I ain't in the VIP unless they pay me
It's like I practice stuntin', ma I have ya matress jumpin'
And I know it sounds like I'm frontin', but I ain't
Jerk jerk ya body, and work work 'em proudly, go and hurt somebody if I don't hit that
If you don't see 'em wit me don't ask bout 50
Cuz if he was here he'd be standin' right here
And if you don't care so much about my fame
Then why you keep starin' at my chain? I'm doin' my thing
From the club to the telly on a late night
Box of Magnums sippin' hen, finna get right
Checkout time ain't til daylight
From the club to the telly on a late night
[Olivia:]
Ooh babe you know I like it when you feel on me
Pullin on my waist I'm feelin energy
Gettin' kinda hard to keep ya hands off me (yeah right there)
So slide a little lower put ya hands on my thigh
Maybe I know you like it if that right
I'ma show you how to make it last all night
Now let me see you shake it
[Hook-Olivia]:
Twist it, shake it, bend but don't break it
Work that body gettin' so crazy
Don't hurt nobody up in this party
Twist it, shake it, bend but don't break it
Twist it, shake it, bend but don't break it
Work that body gettin' butt naked
Don't hurt nobody up in this party
Twist it, shake it, bend but don't break it
[Olivia:]
Mix a little hypno with some hennessey
Like the way this jig goes when it goes through me
Think I need to stop because I'm feelin' tipsy (one more drink)
Baby now I can't stop cuz I'm in the zone
Shorty keep it comin' boy I'm grown
I don't wanna finish this dance alone
Ooh I wanna see ya
[Hook-Olivia]:
Twist it, shake it, bend but don't break it
Work that body gettin' so crazy
Don't hurt nobody up in this party
Twist it, shake it, bend but don't break it

[...] Read more

song performed by OliviaReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Look Around (feat. Jimmy Cozier)

feat. Jimmy Cozier)
[Verse1: Olivia]
I feel so lost
This emptiness deep inside me
u might as well just stay with her
Did you lay with her?
'Cause whereever you were
You sure ain't thinking 'bout me
I've been spining around
Thinking about our love
And so far you helped me babe oooh
You've been messin' around
And lettin' me down
Simple lies and alibies
If you walk out the door you should..
[Chorus:]
[Chorus1: Olivia]
Just look around
And see that she ain't me
And she'll never be
[Chorus2: Jimmy]
Take a look around
And know that you're lettin' go
The best love you'll ever know
[Verse2: Jimmy]
It's just those simple things
Like Jealosy, houndin' me
Accusing me of things
I never did yea
And Thursday you're so in love
Then Friday comes you flip again
Tell me does the drama ever end?
I've been spinnin' around
Thinking about our love
And so far it's crazy
And you keep on talking about
I'm messing around
I cheated you, mistreated you
There's nothing in the world for you I won't do
[Chorus2: Jimmy]
Take a look around
And know that you're lettin' go
The best love you'll ever know
[Chorus1: Olivia]
Just look around
And see that she ain't me
And she'll never be
[Verse3: Olivia]
Look around
[Jimmy:]

[...] Read more

song performed by OliviaReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

Look Around Ft. Jimmy Cozier

[Verse1: Olivia]
I feel so lost
This emptiness deep inside me
u might as well just stay with her
Did you lay with her?
'Cause whereever you were
You sure ain't thinking 'bout me
I've been spining around
Thinking about our love
And so far you helped me babe oooh
You've been messin' around
And lettin' me down
Simple lies and alibies
If you walk out the door you should..
[Chorus:]
[Chorus1: Olivia]
Just look around
And see that she ain't me
And she'll never be
[Chorus2: Jimmy]
Take a look around
And know that you're lettin' go
The best love you'll ever know
[Verse2: Jimmy]
It's just those simple things
Like Jealosy, houndin' me
Accusing me of things
I never did yea
And Thursday you're so in love
Then Friday comes you flip again
Tell me does the drama ever end?
I've been spinnin' around
Thinking about our love
And so far it's crazy
And you keep on talking about
I'm messing around
I cheated you, mistreated you
There's nothing in the world for you I won't do
[Chorus2: Jimmy]
Take a look around
And know that you're lettin' go
The best love you'll ever know
[Chorus1: Olivia]
Just look around
And see that she ain't me
And she'll never be
[Verse3: Olivia]
Look around
[Jimmy:]
Look around and realize

[...] Read more

song performed by OliviaReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

The Hopkins River

Centuries before the black people to this Land came
An unknown Country that did not have a name
The river now known as the Hopkins through the scrublands did flow
And that is going back many centuries ago.

The dinosaurs came at the twilight of the day
For to slake their thirst at the quiet water-way
And though the dinosaurs from the World are forever gone
The old Hopkins river keeps babbling on.

Through the flat brown Countryside to Warrnambool to the sea
The Hopkins has flowed for century on century
Through places dry and stony and places remote
The river has inspired the artist and poet.

For to sketch and sing of it in decades gone by
The river that has never stopped flowing through Summer's warm and dry
And though the artist and poet now with the deceased lay
The Hopkins keeps babbling on night after day.

Through places dry and stony and places remote and brown
On down to the ocean near Warrnambool Town
And the Seasons may come and the Seasons may go
But the old Hopkins river forever will flow.

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

On the Death of the Rev. Dr. Sewell, 1769

Ere yet the morn its lovely blushes spread,
See Sewell number'd with the happy dead.
Hail, holy man, arriv'd th' immortal shore,
Though we shall hear thy warning voice no more.
Come, let us all behold with wishful eyes
The saint ascending to his native skies;
From hence the prophet wing'd his rapt'rous way
To the blest mansions in eternal day.
Then begging for the Spirit of our God,

And panting eager for the same abode,
Come, let us all with the same vigour rise,
And take a prospect of the blissful skies;
While on our minds Christ's image is imprest,
And the dear Saviour glows in ev'ry breast.
Thrice happy faint! to find thy heav'n at last,
What compensation for the evils past!
Great God, incomprehensible, unknown
By sense, we bow at thine exalted throne.
O, while we beg thine excellence to feel,

Thy sacred Spirit to our hearts reveal,
And give us of that mercy to partake,
Which thou hast promis'd for the Saviour's sake!
"Sewell is dead." Swift-pinion'd Fame thus cry'd.
"Is Sewell dead," my trembling tongue reply'd,
O what a blessing in his flight deny'd!
How oft for us the holy prophet pray'd!
How oft to us the Word of Life convey'd!
By duty urg'd my mournful verse to close,
I for his tomb this epitaph compose.

"Lo, here a man, redeem'd by Jesus's blood,
"A sinner once, but now a saint with God;
"Behold ye rich, ye poor, ye fools, ye wise,
"Not let his monument your heart surprise;
"Twill tell you what this holy man has done,
"Which gives him brighter lustre than the sun.
"Listen, ye happy, from your seats above.
"I speak sincerely, while I speak and love,
"He sought the paths of piety and truth,
"By these made happy from his early youth;

"In blooming years that grace divine he felt,
"Which rescues sinners from the chains of guilt.
"Mourn him, ye indigent, whom he has fed,
"And henceforth seek, like him, for living bread;
"Ev'n Christ, the bread descending from above,
"And ask an int'rest in his saving love.
"Mourn him, ye youth, to whom he oft has told

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

The Bagman's Dog, : Mr. Peters's Story

Stant littore Puppies!-- Virgil.

It was a litter, a litter of five,
Four are drown'd and one left alive,
He was thought worthy alone to survive;
And the Bagman resolved upon bringing him up,
To eat of his bread, and to drink of his cup,
He was such a dear little cock-tail'd pup.

The Bagman taught him many a trick;
He would carry and fetch, and run after a stick,
Could well understand
The word of command,
And appear to doze
With a crust on his nose,
Till the Bagman permissively waved his hand:
Then to throw up and catch it he never would fail,
As he sat up on end, on his little cock-tail.
Never was puppy so bien instruit,
Or possess'd of such natural talent as he;
And as he grew older,
Every beholder
Agreed he grew handsomer, sleeker, and bolder.--

Time, however, his wheels we may clog,
Wends steadily still with onward jog,
And the cock-tail'd puppy's a curly-tail'd dog!
When just at the time,
He was reaching his prime,
And all thought he'd be turning out something sublime,
One unlucky day,
How, no one could say,
Whether some soft liaison induced him to stray,
Or some kidnapping vagabond coax'd him away,
He was lost to the view
Like the morning dew;
He had been, and was not -- that's all that they knew;
And the Bagman storm'd, and the Bagman swore,
As never a Bagman had sworn before;
But storming or swearing but little avails,
To recover lost dogs with great curly tails.--

In a large paved court, close by Billiter Square,
Stands a mansion old, but in thorough repair,
The only strange thing, from the general air
Of its size and appearance, is, how it got there;
In front is a short semicircular stair
Of stone steps,-- some half score,--
Then you reach the ground floor,
With a shell-pattern'd architrave over the door.

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share

The Old Leaven

Mark:
So, Maurice, you sail to-morrow, you say?
And you may or may not return?
Be sociable, man! for once in a way,
Unless you're too old to learn.
The shadows are cool by the water side
Where the willows grow by the pond,
And the yellow laburnum's drooping pride
Sheds a golden gleam beyond.
For the blended tints of the summer flowers,
For the scents of the summer air,
For all nature's charms in this world of ours,
'Tis little or naught you care.
Yet I know for certain you haven't stirred
Since noon from your chosen spot;
And you've hardly spoken a single word-
Are you tired, or cross, or what?
You're fretting about those shares you bought,
They were to have gone up fast;
But I heard how they fell to nothing-in short,
They were given away at last.

Maurice:
No, Mark, I'm not so easily cross'd;
'Tis true that I've had a run
Of bad luck lately; indeed, I've lost;
Well! somebody else has won.

Mark:
The glass has fallen, perhaps you fear
A return of your ancient stitch-
That souvenir of the Lady's Mere,
Park palings and double ditch.

Maurice:
You're wrong. I'm not in the least afraid
Of that. If the truth be told,
When the stiffness visits my shoulder-blade,
I think on the days of old;
It recalls the rush of the freshening wind,
The strain of the chestnut springing,
And the rolling thunder of hoofs behind,
Like the Rataplan chorus ringing.

Mark:
Are you bound to borrow, or loth to lend?
Have you purchased another screw?
Or backed a bill for another friend?
Or had a bad night at loo?

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share
John Gay

The Shepherd's Week : Thursday; or, The Spell

Hobnelia.
Hobnelia, seated in a dreary vale,
In pensive mood rehears'd her piteous tale,
Her piteous tale the wind in sighs bemoan,
And pining echo answers groan for groan.
I rue the day, a rueful day I trow,
The woful day, a day indeed of wo!
When Lubberkin to town his cattle drove,
A maiden fine bedight he hap'd to love;
The maiden fine bedight his love retains,
And for the village he forsakes the plains.
Return, my Lubberkin, these ditties hear;
Spells will I try, and spells shall ease my care.
'With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, around, around.'
When first the year, I heard the cuckoo sing,
And call with welcome note the budding spring,
I straightway set a running with such haste,
Deborah that won the smock scarce ran so fast.
'Till spent for lack of breath quite weary grown,
Upon a rising bank I sat adown,
Then doff'd my shoe, and by my troth I swear,
Therein I spy'd this yellow frizzled hair,
As like to Lubberkin's in curl and hue,
As if upon his comely pate it grew.
'With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, around, around.'
At eve last midsummer no sleep I sought,
But to the field a bag of hemp-seed brought,
I scatter'd round the seed on every side,
And three times in a trembling accent cried,
'This hemp-seed with my virgin hand I sow,
Who shall my true-love be, the crop shall mow.'
I straight look'd back, and if my eyes speak truth,
With his keen scythe behind me came the youth.
'With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, around, around.'
Last Valentine, the day when birds of kind
Their paramours with mutual chirpings find;
I rearly rose, just at the break of day,
Before the sun had chas'd the stars away,
A-field I went, amid the morning dew,
To milk my kine (for so should huswifes do)
Thee first I spy'd, and the first swain we see,
In spite of fortune shall our true-love be;
See, Lubberkin, each bird his partner take,
And canst thou then thy sweet-hear dear forsake?
'With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground,
And turn me thrice around, around, around.'
Last May-day fair I search'd to find a snail

[...] Read more

poem by Report problemRelated quotes
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Share
 

Search


Recent searches | Top searches