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There is measure in all things.

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Ill Take Love

(words & music by fuller / barkon)
Some people think that pot of gold
Is all they ever want to hold
But theres a treasure, I think more of
Measure for measure .. Ill take love
Some people think that their success
Is all they need for happiness
But theres a pleasure, I think more of
Measure for measure .. Ill take love
Pound for pound oh yeah and
Ounce for ounce love is all that really counts
So let them have their wealth and fame
Eat caviar and drink champagne
Youre all the treasure Im dreaming of
Measure for measure .. Ill take love
Pound for pound oh yeah and
Ounce for ounce love is all that really counts
So let them have their wealth and fame
Eat caviar and drink champagne
Youre all the treasure Im dreaming of
Measure for measure .. Ill take love
Ill take love, Ill take love
Ill take love, Ill take love

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The Measure Of Love

The measure of love, in truth, is this:
To treasure each sigh, close by, then kiss!
I've revelled each girl I yearn,
Just to discern the measure of love!
Soft embraces, gazes... In search for one true friend...
Let go... then watching love grow...
Then lips pressed tight, just right,
As if our two hearts said, 'Hello! '
Love prays this is so...
The measure is true in gentlemen...
Right out of the blue! So who knows when?
It's meant to astound you, too...
So you can view the measure of love!

The measure of love, in truth, is this:
To treasure each sigh, close by, then kiss!
I've revelled each girl I yearn,
Just to discern the measure of love!
Soft embraces, gazes... In search for one true friend...
Let go... then watching love grow...
Then lips pressed tight, just right,
As if our two hearts said, 'Hello! '
Love prays this is so...
The measure is true in gentlemen...
Right out of the blue! So who knows when?
It's meant to astound you, too...
So you can view the measure of love!

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How Do You Measure Up?

If you measure yourself by ambition,
There will always be someone more ambitious than you.
If you measure yourself by money,
There is always someone wealthier than you.
If you measure yourself by power,
There is always someone more powerful than you.
If you measure yourself with material things,
There is always someone with more stuff than you.
If you measure yourself by where you are in life,
There is always someone farther down the path than you.
If you measure yourself by appearance,
There is always someone that appears than you.
If you measure yourself by God,
Then we are all the same.
We are all wonderfully and beautifully made.
God is love.
And love has no end.
So in God's heart,
You will always measure up!

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The Measure Of Men

what is the measure of one man
is it the measure of one's strength
I think not
is it the measure of one's stature such as height
I don't think so
is it how wealthy one is
not even close
or is it how much power one possesses over another
not impressive
can a measure of a man be measured with a yardstick
well it can but that park doesn't show he's a man

the tolerance of a man for another man hitting him
can be measured with a ruler
the tolerance of a man for another man attacking his country
can be measured with a grain of salt
the tolerance of a man for another man hitting the one's he loves
now that can only be measured within a whisper

you can only measure a individual man or woman
with how big their heart is and
what qualities lie within that heart
such as dignity for what he works for
such as a stable household for his famly
compassion for people in need
the understanding of what's right and what's wrong
the pride of not what he has done but what
his wife and child has done
the sweat
the blood
and the tears he spars
to keep his marriage from falling apart

once you find a way to measure those things then
and only then will you be able to say
that is
because that is certainly
the real measure of all men

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If you never stand in glory

If you never stand in glory
If you never find 15 minutes of fame
I will tell your story
I’ll stand up and chant your name

If you measure yourself
With your own hands
If you don’t make excuses
If you do the best you can

You’ll be my hero
The heart, young one
Is the measure of the man.

If you don’t break the record
But yet you run the race
If you give it all your effort
And come in second place

If you do the best you can
You’ll be my hero
The heart young one,
Is the measure of the man.

If don’t sing in the spotlight
But refrained into the chorus
If you don’t climb MT Everest
But spend time in the forest

You’ll be my hero
The heart young one
Is the measure of the man.

If you don’t’ get elected
But you shake every hand
If the cause is effected
If clearly mark out where you stand

If you do the best you can
You’ll be my hero
The heart young one
Is the measure of the man.


IF you lose your direction
And meander for awhile
But seek out the correction
With each foot of every mile

You’ll be my hero

[...] Read more

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356

measure my love
i will love you without measure
there you shall fail
this love has no number
unquantifiable

your measure cannot measure
this love immeasurable
this love so
unbearable

you measure me again
this love like a flame on your oil lamp
shall then die

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Without Measure

measure my love
i will love you without measure
there you shall fail
this love has no number
unquantifiable

your measure cannot measure
this love immeasurable
this love so
unbearable

you measure me again
this love like a flame on your oil lamp
shall then die

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One Little Victory

A certain measure of innocence
willing to appears naive
a certain degree of imagination
a measure of make-beleive
a certain degree of surrender
to the forces of light and heat
a shot of satisfaction
Celebrate the moment
as it turns into one more
another chance at victory
another chance to score
the measure of the moment
is a difference of degree
just one little victory
a spirite breaking free
one little victory
the greatest act can be one little victory
a certain measure of righteousness
a certain amout of force
a certain degree of determination
daring on a different course
acertain amout of resistance
to the force of life and love
a certain measure of tolerence
a willingness to rise above

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George Meredith

The Empty Purse--A Sermon To Our Later Prodigal Son

Thou, run to the dry on this wayside bank,
Too plainly of all the propellers bereft!
Quenched youth, and is that thy purse?
Even such limp slough as the snake has left
Slack to the gale upon spikes of whin,
For cast-off coat of a life gone blank,
In its frame of a grin at the seeker, is thine;
And thine to crave and to curse
The sweet thing once within.
Accuse him: some devil committed the theft,
Which leaves of the portly a skin,
No more; of the weighty a whine.

Pursue him: and first, to be sure of his track,
Over devious ways that have led to this,
In the stream's consecutive line,
Let memory lead thee back
To where waves Morning her fleur-de-lys,
Unflushed at the front of the roseate door
Unopened yet: never shadow there
Of a Tartarus lighted by Dis
For souls whose cry is, alack!
An ivory cradle rocks, apeep
Through his eyelashes' laugh, a breathing pearl.
There the young chief of the animals wore
A likeness to heavenly hosts, unaware
Of his love of himself; with the hours at leap.
In a dingle away from a rutted highroad,
Around him the earliest throstle and merle,
Our human smile between milk and sleep,
Effervescent of Nature he crowed.
Fair was that season; furl over furl
The banners of blossom; a dancing floor
This earth; very angels the clouds; and fair
Thou on the tablets of forehead and breast:
Careless, a centre of vigilant care.
Thy mother kisses an infant curl.
The room of the toys was a boundless nest,
A kingdom the field of the games,
Till entered the craving for more,
And the worshipped small body had aims.
A good little idol, as records attest,
When they tell of him lightly appeased in a scream
By sweets and caresses: he gave but sign
That the heir of a purse-plumped dominant race,
Accustomed to plenty, not dumb would pine.
Almost magician, his earliest dream
Was lord of the unpossessed
For a look; himself and his chase,
As on puffs of a wind at whirl,

[...] Read more

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In the spirit of Rumi - 25

I said to My Beloved
Tell me the measure of truth
My Beloved said
Tell me first what you know of truth

‘One and one make two,
- as You and I’
My Beloved said
Tell me more of truth

‘Love draws me to You
as the white moth to the candle’s flame’
My Beloved said
Tell me more of truth

‘Love makes You and me
into one single perfect love’
My Beloved said
This is the measure of truth
which is immeasurable:

the greater the truth
the less it can be measured;
the greater the truth
the deeper it may be experienced;

this is its measure: its experience.
Truth has no other measure,
for only love can measure truth.

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William Cowper

The Task: Book VI. -- The Winter Walk at Noon

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds;
And as the mind is pitch’d the ear is pleased
With melting airs, or martial, brisk, or grave:
Some chord in unison with what we hear
Is touch’d within us, and the heart replies.
How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at intervals upon the ear
In cadence sweet, now dying all away,
Now pealing loud again, and louder still,
Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on!
With easy force it opens all the cells
Where Memory slept. Wherever I have heard
A kindred melody, the scene recurs,
And with it all its pleasures and its pains.
Such comprehensive views the spirit takes,
That in a few short moments I retrace
(As in a map the voyager his course)
The windings of my way through many years.
Short as in retrospect the journey seems,
It seem’d not always short; the rugged path,
And prospect oft so dreary and forlorn,
Moved many a sigh at its disheartening length.
Yet, feeling present evils, while the past
Faintly impress the mind, or not at all,
How readily we wish time spent revoked,
That we might try the ground again, where once
(Through inexperience, as we now perceive)
We miss’d that happiness we might have found!
Some friend is gone, perhaps his son’s best friend,
A father, whose authority, in show
When most severe, and mustering all its force,
Was but the graver countenance of love:
Whose favour, like the clouds of spring, might lower,
And utter now and then an awful voice,
But had a blessing in its darkest frown,
Threatening at once and nourishing the plant.
We loved, but not enough, the gentle hand
That rear’d us. At a thoughtless age, allured
By every gilded folly, we renounced
His sheltering side, and wilfully forewent
That converse, which we now in vain regret.
How gladly would the man recall to life
The boy’s neglected sire! a mother too,
That softer friend, perhaps more gladly still,
Might he demand them at the gates of death.
Sorrow has, since they went, subdued and tamed
The playful humour; he could now endure
(Himself grown sober in the vale of tears)
And feel a parent’s presence no restraint.
But not to understand a treasure’s worth

[...] Read more

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As I Am A Man

as i am a man
measure me not with that
divine stick

i do not wish
to be more than God
nor do i intend to be
lower than
that beast.

measure me
with the love that i can give you
the sorrows i have
the pains i have endured
the successes that i have
hidden from your eyes

measure me with the purity
of my intentions
the care with which i do my
actions
do not measure me
with your expectations
let me stand strong
on the pavement of
your cares.

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A Rainy Night In Soho

Here is one of the songs from the request list.
--- cut here ---
-------------------------------------------------------
Posted by Marshall Levin -- af705@cleveland.freenet.edu
-------------------------------------------------------
Artist -> The Pogues
Title -> A Rainy Night In Soho
Album -> Poguetry In Motion
Release -> Warner YZ603CD 9031-75474-2
I've been loving you a long time
Down all the years, down all the days
And I've cried for all your troubles
Smiled at your funny little ways
We watched our friends grow up together
And we saw them as they fell
Some of them fell into Heaven
Some of them fell into Hell
I took shelter from a shower
And I stepped into your arms
On a rainy night in Soho
The wind was whistling all its charms
I sang you all my sorrows
You told me all your joys
Whatever happened to that old song
To all those little girls and boys
Now the song is nearly over
We may never find out what it means
But there's a light I hold before me
And you're the measure of my dreams
The measure of my dreams
Sometimes I wake up in the morning
The gingerlady by my bed
Covered in a cloak of silence
I hear you talking in my head
I'm not singing for the future
I'm not dreaming of the past
I'm not talking of the fist time
I never think about the last
Now the song is nearly over
We may never find out what it means
Still there's a light I hold before me
You're the measure of my dreams
The measure of my dreams
--- cut here ---
--

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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,

[...] Read more

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The Measure Of Love sung to From Russia With Love

The measure of love, in truth, is this:
To treasure each sigh, close by, then kiss!
I've revelled each girl I yearn,
Just to discern
The measure of love!
Soft embraces, gazes...
In search for one true friend...
Let go... then watching love grow...
Then lips pressed tight, just right,
As if our two hearts said, 'Hello! '
Love prays this is so...
The measure is true in gentlemen...
Right out of the blue! So who knows when?
It's meant to astound you, too...
So you can view
The measure of love!

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Henry Van Dyke

Music

I

PRELUDE

Daughter of Psyche, pledge of that last night
When, pierced with pain and bitter-sweet delight,
She knew her Love and saw her Lord depart,
Then breathed her wonder and her woe forlorn
Into a single cry, and thou wast born?
Thou flower of rapture and thou fruit of grief;
Invisible enchantress of the heart;
Mistress of charms that bring relief
To sorrow, and to joy impart
A heavenly tone that keeps it undefiled,--
Thou art the child
Of Amor, and by right divine
A throne of love is thine,
Thou flower-folded, golden-girdled, star-crowned Queen,
Whose bridal beauty mortal eyes have never seen!


II

Thou art the Angel of the pool that sleeps,
While peace and joy lie hidden in its deeps,
Waiting thy touch to make the waters roll
In healing murmurs round the weary soul.
Ah, when wilt thou draw near,
Thou messenger of mercy robed in song?
My lonely heart has listened for thee long;
And now I seem to hear
Across the crowded market-place of life,
Thy measured foot-fall, ringing light and clear
Above the unmeaning noises and the unruly strife;
In quiet cadence, sweet and slow,
Serenely pacing to and fro,
Thy far-off steps are magical and dear.
Ah, turn this way, come close and speak to me!
>From this dull bed of languor set my spirit free,
And bid me rise, and let me walk awhile with thee


III

Where wilt thou lead me first?
In what still region
Of thy domain,
Whose provinces are legion,
Wilt thou restore me to myself again,
And quench my heart's long thirst?

[...] Read more

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The winning move.

Life is not a Tempest
Nor a Mid Summer Night's Dream.
It is not A Winter's Tale
Nor a drama to play As You Like It.

All's Well that Ends Well,
Life is a Comedy of Errors.
We have Great Expectations
We do dream of Paradise Regained.

We move our pieces Measure for Measure.
Alas! In the process Love's Labour's Lost.
We eat the Grapes of Wrath
And life seems to be War and Peace.

Sitting Under the Greenwood Tree
It is all An Enchanted Kiss
It is all A Tempered Wind,
And we forget The Elegy Written in a country church-yard.

Life is an Old Curiosity Shop,
Our past is our shadow.
Again, it is the same old story-
The Old man and the Sea,
The Higher Pragmatism,
The Lonesome Road,

And who finally wins? -
Oliver Twists or the Merchant of the Venice?

***************************************** *****************
Shakespeare -Tempest, Mid-summer Night’s dream, A winter’s Tale, As you like it, All’s well that ends well, Comedy of errors, Measure for measure, Love’s labour’s lost, Merchant of Venice-

Dickens- Great Expectations, Oliver Twist, Old curiosity shop.

Milton- Paradise Regained.

Tolstoy- War and Peace.

Steinbeck- The grapes of wrath.

Hardy- Under the greenwood tree.

Thomas Gray – Elegy written in a country church-yard.

O Henry- An enchanted kiss, A tempered wind, The higher pragmatism, The lonesome road.

Hemingway- The old man and the sea.

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Ode To Georgiana, Duchess Of Devonshire, On The Twenty-Fourth Stanza In Her 'Passage Over Mount Gothard'

'And hail the chapel! hail the platform wild
Where Tell directed the avenging dart,
With well-strung arm, that first preserved his child,
Then aimed the arrow at the tyrant's heart.'

Splendor's fondly fostered child!
And did you hail the platform wild,
Where once the Austrian fell
Beneath the shaft of Tell!
O Lady, nursed in pomp and pleasure!
Whence learn'd you that heroic measure?

Light as a dream your days their circlets ran.
From all that teaches brotherhood to Man
Far, far removed! from want, from hope, from fear!
Enchanting music lulled your infant ear,
Obeisance, praises sotohed your infant heart:
Emblazonments and old ancestral crests,
With many a bright obtrusive form of art,
Detained your eye from nature: stately vests,
That veiling strove to deck your charms divine,
Rich viands and the pleasurable wine,
Were yours unearned by toil; nor could you see
The unenjoying toiler's misery.
And yet, free Nature's uncorrupted child,
You hailed the chapel and the platform wild,
Where once the Austrian fell
Beneath the shaft of Tell!
O Lady, nursed in pomp and pleasure!
Whence learn'd you that heroic measure?

There crowd your finely-fibred frame,
All living faculties of bliss;
And Genius to your cradle came,
His forehead wreathed with lambent flame,
And bending low, with godlike kiss
Breathed in a more celestial life;
But boasts not many a fair compeer,
A heart as sensitive to joy and fear
And some, perchance, might wage an equal strife.
Some few, to nobler being wrought,
Corrivals in the nobler gift of thought.
Yet these delight to celebrate
Laurelled war and plumy state;
Or in verse and music dress
Tales of rustic happiness --
Pernicious tales! insidious strains!
That steel the rich man's breast,
And mock the lot unblest,
The sordid vices and the abject pains,

[...] Read more

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On Living Life

It’s not near enough
To have lived in full…
the length of one’s life

No… tis not nearly enough
The measure of length only…
Pray tell…

For length is far too narrow
A measure
of one’s life

The true measure is to have lived
The full width
As well

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Ries Wagon

Gonna take that medicine, a cold, cold medicine, make me what I am
Gonna go down steady, gonna get my measure, I got credit with the medicine man
*said Im on fire, Im on fire
Well, he mix the medicine and he take credit when he puts it in my hand
Gonna go down steady, gonna get my measure, I got credit with the medicine man
*said Im on fire, Im on fire
Ries car runnin me over but I dont mind
Ries car drivin me homeward cos I dont drive
Ries car runnin me over, runnin me over but I dont mind
Ries car drivin me homeward cos I dont drive
Well, Im smokin in bed again, I didnt get the sign that said I should be up by ten
Gonna go down steady, gonna get my measure, I got credit with the medicine man
*said Im on fire, Im on fire
*said Im on fire, Im on fire
*said Im on fire, Im on fire
*said Im on fire, Im on fire
Ries car runnin me over but I dont mind
Ries car drivin me homeward cos I dont drive
Ries car takin me over but I dont mind
But I dont mind
But I dont mind
But I dont mind

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