A rich man's wooing need seldom be a long one.
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Rich men's sons are seldom rich men's fathers.
quote by Herbert Kaufman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once a sea-nymph loved a boy
ONCE a sea-nymph loved a boy:
He and she they loved so well.
'Oh the foamy billow's joy!
Oh the rippling in the sun!
Oh the round waves, one by one, Swaying, swaying, swaying, To and fro.
Oh my pearl and coral cell, And the long weeds playing,
While the surges come and go, Come and go!'
Boy and nymph were hand in hand:
He and she they had much love.
'Oh the green and ripening land!
Oh the lime-scent in the trees!
Oh the langour of the breeze,
Wooing, wooing, wooing, Light and low!
Oh the twilight in my grove, And the cushats cooing;
While the brook steals soft and slow, Soft and slow.'
Love, that heard them, laughed aloud, Took them to the side of him.
Was it land or leafy cloud?
Was it billowy cloud or sea? 'Twas the home that eyes, kissed dim,
Look on as they'd have it be.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Sonnet 52: So am I as the rich whose blessèd key
So am I as the rich whose blessèd key
Can bring him to his sweet up-lockèd treasure,
The which he will not every hour survey,
For blunting the fine point of seldom pleasure.
Therefore are feasts so solemn and so rare,
Since, seldom coming, in that long year set,
Like stones of worth they thinly placèd are,
Or captain jewels in the carcanet.
So is the time that keeps you as my chest,
Or as the wardrobe which the robe doth hide,
To make some special instant special-blest
By new unfolding his imprisoned pride.
Blessèd are you whose worthiness gives scope,
Being had to triumph, being lacked to hope.
poem by William Shakespeare
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Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken.
Jane Austen in Emma
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Are you rich?
Because parents are rich
I am not rich.
Because brothers or sisters
Or in-laws are rich,
Because own children are rich
I am no richer.
Unless I myself am rich
I cannot be rich.
Too late to understand
And hence poor I went.
Agartala
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Damage suffered makes you knowing, but seldom rich.
He who despises small things seldom grows rich.
Seldom ever was any knowledge given to keep, but to impart; the grace of this rich jewel is lost in concealment.
quote by Wendell Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Simple, Seldom and Sad
Simple, seldom and sad
We are;
Alone on the Halibut Hills
Afar,
With sweet mad Expressions
Of old
Strangely beautiful
So we're told
By the Creatures that Move
In the sky
And Die
On the night when the Dead Trees
Prance and Cry.
Sensitive, seldom and sad -
Sensitive, seldom and sad -
Simple, seldom and sad
Are we
When we take our path
To the purple sea -
With mad, sweet Expressions
Of Yore,
Strangely beautiful,
Yea, and More
On the Night of all Nights
When the sky
Streams by
In rags, while the Dead Trees
Prance and Cry,
sensitive, seldom and sad -
sensitive, seldom and sad.
poem by Mervyn Peake
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The Perpetual Wooing
The dull world clamors at my feet
And asks my hand and helping sweet;
And wonders when the time shall be
I'll leave off dreaming dreams of thee.
It blames me coining soul and time
And sending minted bits of rhyme--
A-wooing of thee still.
Shall I make answer? This it is:
I camp beneath thy galaxies
Of starry thoughts and shining deeds;
And, seeing new ones, I must needs
Arouse my speech to tell thee, dear,
Though thou art nearer, I am near--
A-wooing of thee still.
I feel thy heart-beat next mine own;
Its music hath a richer tone.
I rediscover in thine eyes
A balmier, dewier paradise.
I'm sure thou art a rarer girl--
And so I seek thee, finest pearl,
A-wooing of thee still.
With blood of roses on thy lips--
Canst doubt my trembling?--something slips
Between thy loveliness and me--
So commonplace, so fond of thee.
Ah, sweet, a kiss is waiting where
That last one stopped thy lover's prayer--
A-wooing of thee still.
When new light falls upon thy face
My gladdened soul discerns some trace
Of God, or angel, never seen
In other days of shade and sheen.
Ne'er may such rapture die, or less
Than joy like this my heart confess--
A-wooing of thee still.
Go thou, O soul of beauty, go
Fleet-footed toward the heavens aglow.
Mayhap, in following, thou shalt see
Me worthier of thy love and thee.
Thou wouldst not have me satisfied
Until thou lov'st me--none beside--
A-wooing of thee still.
This was a song of years ago--
Of spring! Now drifting flowers of snow
Bloom on the window-sills as white
As gray-beard looking through love's light
And holding blue-veined hands the while.
He finds her last--the sweetest smile--
A-wooing of her still.
poem by Eugene Field
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Prelude
The mighty poets from their flowing store
Dispense like casual alms the careless ore;
Through throngs of men their lonely way they go,
Let fall their costly thoughts, nor seem to know.-
Not mine the rich and showering hand, that strews
The facile largess of a stintless Muse.
A fitful presence, seldom tarrying long,
Capriciously she touches me to song-
Then leaves me to lament her flight in vain,
And wonder will she ever come again.
poem by William Watson
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The Poor Can Feed the Birds
Ragged, unheeded, stooping, meanly shod,
The poor pass to the pond: not far away
The spires go up to God.
Shyly they come from the unpainted lane;
Coats have they made of old unhappiness
That keeps in every pain.
The rich have fear, perchance their God is dim;
’Tis with the hope of stored-up happiness
They build the spires to Him.
The rich go out in clattering pomp and dare
In the most holy places to insult
The deep Benevolence there.
But ’tis the poor who make the loving words.
Slowly they stoop; it is a Sacrament:
The poor can feed the birds.
Old, it is old, this scattering of the bread,
Deep as forgiveness, or the tears that go
Out somewhere to the dead.
The feast of love, the love that is the cure
For all indignities—it reigns, it calls,
It chains us to the pure.
Seldom they speak of God, He is too dim;
So without thought of after happiness
They feed the birds for Him.
The rich men walk not here on the green sod,
But they have builded towers, the timorous
That still go up to God.
Still will the poor go out with loving words;
In the long need, the need for happiness
The poor can feed the birds.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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Make Me Rich
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy.
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
'Horns and tambourines'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
'Congas'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
' And to the bridge'
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy.
'Lead/background singers and violins,
With bass! And give it...'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
'YES...'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Justice
Justice is seldom found on earth
Although we want it most!
If the victim is poor
And the accused is rich
There should be a handsome compensation.
If the victim is rich
And the accused is poor
There should be less compensation.
I prefer death sentence
To lifetime imprisonment
And any other penalty to fine
Since the criminal may repent
And become a very good person!
Therefore the lawmakers should rethink
In order to establish true justice
In all spheres of judgment.
poem by Asif Andalib
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The rich are always advising the poor, but the poor seldom return the compliment.
quote by Lord Chesterfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rich men's houses are seldom beautiful, rarely comfortable, and never original. It is a constant source of surprise to people of moderate means to observe how little a big fortune contributes to Beauty.
quote by Margot Asquith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silly; Religion: Rich Man Vs. Ghost
honest 'scrooge':
The rich man said 'I care not to breed; time's too valuable to sow my ‘seed'.
Money's my own evil, like cotton has its weevil.
All I really care about is greed.'
rich man is warned:
To rich man one eve came a tall ghost. Said the foretelling ghost to his host:
'All money you can save you can take to your grave,
but in Hell you'll still be scorched toast.'
ooh! scary ghost (not) ! :
Rich man to ghost: 'You're not so clever. You'll find I have no panic lever.
L. R. Hubbard did say 'rich men, live for today;
Scientologists live forever'.'
ghost retorts:
Ghost to rich man: 'I have discovered what became of your L. R. Hubbard.
He told a mighty tale, but his beliefs did fail….
to keep him out of the Devil's cupboard.'
rich man retorts back:
Rich man to ghost: 'I believe you're a liar. I think your tail will be on fire.
I would not hire you …to fix the sole of my shoe, …
let alone 'my soul '. You conspire! ! '
ghost gives up! (almost) :
At that the poor ghost his head did scratch, thinking, perhaps, he'd met his match.
Then he saw the TV. He put on channel three,
and Hubbard's broadcast (from Hell) they did catch.
thankful (formerly-rich) man to ghost:
Rich man said: 'Ghost, I believe you indeed! ! You can leave now on your steed.
but first take my money and bring me a ‘honey',
for I've been long overdue to breed! ! '
poem by Bri Edwards
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Afraid To Love
So seldom does she think of love
and seldom does she want to.
It isn't that she's cold or bad,
it's that she cannot hold you.
If she were to allow herself
to hunger for your kiss,
her heart would be like jelly
and many beats would miss.
So seldom she allows herself
this pleasure and this pain
for she would surely die for love
and cannot take the strain.
If you would promise faithfully
to be her true, true friend.
To comfort her and cherish her
and be there at her end.
But life is such a fickle beast
and even though she cares.
She cannot, no she dare not
offer love and be ensnared.
poem by Ruth Walters
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