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Quotes about nill

Nill

Nill is
Not in...
Human life...
Every thing fill...

Your happy...
Your work...
Your Think...
Do do...

Any thing...
Nill is
Not in life...

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Edmund Spenser

The Shepheardes Calender: May

May: AEgloga Quinta. Palinode & Piers.

Palinode.
IS not thilke the mery moneth of May,
When loue lads masken in fresh aray?
How falles it then, we no merrier bene,
Ylike as others, girt in gawdy greene?
Our bloncket liueryes bene all to sadde,
For thilke same season, when all is ycladd
With pleasaunce: the grownd with grasse, the Wods
With greene leaues, the bushes with bloosming Buds.
Yougthes folke now flocken in euery where,
To gather may bus-kets and smelling brere:
And home they hasten the postes to dight,
And all the Kirke pillours eare day light,
With Hawthorne buds, and swete Eglantine,
And girlonds of roses and Sopps in wine.
Such merimake holy Saints doth queme,
But we here sytten as drownd in a dreme.

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Unfill The Vessel To Again Fill

Tiny tale for a sale.
People from sands to vale.
Joy of praise to cheers.
A way from cut to sheers.
Jack beside Jill, to the hill.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.

Shiny white snow and blue sky.
Clouds over the hill they fly.
Sounds of roar still we dare.
Prize of present got to share.
Counted already million still its nill.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.

Warm of sun, Shades of the dark.
Rest on woods, Expectant on the park.
Worlds got lot of adversary and misery.
Rest of peace is core and treasury.
Still travel till you find it until.
Unfill the vessel to again fill.

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To Phillis the Faire Sheeperdesse

My Phillis hath the morninge Sunne,
at first to looke upon her:
And Phillis hath morne-waking birds,
her risinge still to honour.
My Phillis hath prime-featherd flowres,
that smile when she treads on them:
And Phillis hath a gallant flocke,
that leapes since she dooth owne them.
But Phillis hath too hard a hart,
alas, that she should have it:
It yeelds no mercie to desert,
nor grace to those that crave it.
Sweete Sunne, when thou look'st on,
pray her regard my moane!
Sweete birds, when you sing to her,
to yeeld some pitty, woo her!
Sweet flowers that she treads on,
tell her, her beauty deads one.
And if in life her love she nill agree me,
Pray her before I die, she will come see me.

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Little Girl

Little girl slings words so cruel and cheap.
To a critical degree they cut so deep.
I loved once all that we had shared.
Now all I feel is deep dispair.
Your words cut like a seraded knife.
A cut that harms and hurts times twice.
Little girl I love you still,
but your petulance and grating grind to nill.
I resent you for giving me all the blame.
When little girl came bounding out with vicious rein.
I tryed to stop,
I tryed to reason.
In the end we both commited treason.
You view me now as filth and scum.
Even though I make amends for what I've done.
Little girl you're dead to me,
though I love you still I hate this song.
It's gone too long the pains immense.
I hope one day it will all make sense.
So little girl I say goodbye,

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Another Day

Another day has passed.
Perhaps tommorow I can relax.
Lifes pressures build.
To the point I want to kill.
I cannot stand this daily bilge.
All I want is to get my fill of peace and quiet, and people nill.
Another day, another dissapointment.
I'm sick of waiting like I need an appointment.
This existence is so dull.
On my pud all day I pull.
Dealing with the jerks who run the world.

Another day, another dime.
Christ when will I ever have the time?
To sit and think and have a drink.
To kiss my love on the cheek.
Another day I'm madder still.
I hate them for the ways they kill.
My self respect and dignity.
With no remorse they stay their course.

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Will he nill he, the ass must go the fair.

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Me Olemme Y

Kas kas keits onkaan tll on
onkos tm herra kiltti
Vai tunnottomiako taas
nill tuonen teill
kohtaa oi joi
On loppumaton lista tekosistaan
petoksellisista
Satimeenme suden siis saimme
ja ketks sutten laumaa johtaa
Pikku-Veikka skalppisi leikkaa
tekee tarkistuksiaan
hiusrajoissa
Heitt kuuman ptsiin keskeen
on vajoissa pahojen ikuinen
kadotusty
Me olemme y
Vaikka lempe sanelisi salo
suloisuutta kuiskii kotitalo
Unohtuipa elmsi valo
kuljit vihan valtakuntaan

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Edmund Spenser

The Shepheardes Calender: September

September: Ægloga Nona. Hobbinol & Diggon Dauie.

Hobbinol.
Diggon Dauie, I bidde her god day:
Or Diggon her is, or I missaye.

Diggon.
Her was her, while it was daye light,
But nowe her is a most wretched wight.
For day, that was, is wightly past,
And now at earst the dirke night doth hast.

Hobbinoll.
Diggon areede, who has thee so dight?
Neuer I wist thee in so poor a plight.
Where is the fayre flocke, thou was wont to leade?
Or bene they chaffred? or at mischiefe dead?

Diggon.
Ah for loue of that, is to thee moste leefe,

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New-Englands Crisis

IN seventy five the Critick of our years
Commenc'd our war with Phillip and his peers.
Whither the sun in Leo had inspir'd
A feav'rish heat, and Pagan spirits fir'd?
Whither some Romish Agent hatcht the plot?
Or whither they themselves? appeareth not.
Whither our infant thrivings did invite?
Or whither to our lands pretended right?
Is hard to say; but Indian spirits need
No grounds but lust to make a Christian bleed.


And here methinks I see this greazy Lout
With all his pagan slaves coil'd round about,
Assuming all the majesty his throne
Of rotten stump, or of the rugged stone
Could yield; casting some bacon-rine-like looks,
Enough to fright a Student from his books,
Thus treat his peers, and next to them his Commons,
Kennel'd together all without a summons.

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