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It is always the adventurers who do great things, not the sovereigns of great empires.
quote by Charles de Montesquieu
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Stuart sovereigns of England steadily attempted to strengthen their power, and the resistance to that effort caused an immense growth of Parliamentary influence.
quote by Albert Bushnell Hart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Religion united its influence with those of loyalty and love, and the order of knighthood, endowed with all the sanctity and religious awe that attended the priesthood, became an object of ambition to the greatest sovereigns.
quote by Thomas Bulfinch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tribal Ways (Enemies of Match)
Every man with an opinion
Equal in valour and in strength equal
At the advent of the British
Who were carrying the flag
Of the queen with intentions
To conquer the lions and wolves
The British from India
Offered to make a few nabobs
The reply was that we are all nabobs
Can you make all nabobs
In retreat then a titular representation
In treaty like with sovereigns
With each tribe the British
Gave respect to the traditions
Commanded respect
Enemies of match
They laid arms
To each other
And the rest would follow
Between lovers of freedom
On the land they said theirs
And many more claimants
For the soil and souls
For the minds and ferocity
20/4/2009
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Dialogue Between a Sovereign and a One-Pound Note
Said a Sov'reign to a Note,
In the pocket of my coat,
Where they met in a neat purse of leather,
"How happens it, I prithee,
That though I'm wedded with thee,
Fair Pound, we can never live together?
Like your sex, fond of change,
With silver you can range,
And of lots of young sixpences be mother;
While with me -- upon my word
Not my Lady and my Lord
Of W--stm--th see so little of each other!"
The indignant Note replied
(Lying crumpled by his side),
"Shame, shame, it is yourself that roam, Sir --
One cannot look askance,
But, whip! you're off to France,
Leaving nothing but old rags at home, Sir.
Your scampering began from the moment Parson Van,
Poor man, made us one in Love's fetter;
"For better or for worse"
Is the usual marriage curse,
But ours is all "worse" and no "better."
In vain are laws pass'd,
There's nothing holds you fast
Tho' you know, sweet Sovereign, I adore you --
At the smallest hint in life,
Your forsake your lawful wife,
As other Sovereigns did before you.
I flirt with Silver, true --
But what can ladies do,
When disown'd by their natural protectors?
And as to falsehood, stuff!
I shall soon be false enough,
When I get among those wicked Bank Directors."
The Sovereign, smiling on her,
Now swore, upon his honour,
To be henceforth domestic and loyal;
But, within an hour or two,
Why -- I sold him to a Jew,
And he's now at No. 10, Palais Royal.
poem by Thomas Moore
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The Storming of the Bastille
In France on the 14th July people eat out, remembering a fact:
On the 14th July 1789 there was the invention of the restaurant.
That day there was the storming of the Bastille
However one has to eat every day.
The Bastille held seven prisoners: among them, four youngs.
That one was the revolution of the lawyers: Robespierre, Danton, Saint Just;
They became judges, cut the heads of dad king and mom queen.
Had those sovereigns their heads? People needed bread.
Marat was struggling with his eczema in a bathtub,
He fell on the battlefield. Citoyens, people are hungry.
Oh Jacobins your heads didn't survive, either.
Maybe it's expensive today but, Lesbia, can I invite you to dinner?
Aux armes, citoyens.
poem by Paolo Giuseppe Mazzarello
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What Best I See In Thee
WHAT best I see in thee,
Is not that where thou mov'st down history's great highways,
Ever undimm'd by time shoots warlike victory's dazzle,
Or that thou sat'st where Washington sat, ruling the land in peace,
Or thou the man whom feudal Europe feted, venerable Asia, swarm'd
upon,
Who walk'd with kings with even pace the round world's promenade;
But that in foreign lands, in all thy walks with kings,
Those prairie sovereigns of the West, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois,
Ohio's, Indiana's millions, comrades, farmers, soldiers, all to the
front,
Invisibly with thee walking with kings with even pace the round
world's promenade, 10
We all so justified.
poem by Walt Whitman
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I met a King this afternoon!
166
I met a King this afternoon!
He had not on a Crown indeed,
A little Palmleaf Hat was all,
And he was barefoot, I'm afraid!
But sure I am he Ermine wore
Beneath his faded Jacket's blue—
And sure I am, the crest he bore
Within that Jacket's pocket too!
For 'twas too stately for an Earl—
A Marquis would not go so grand!
'Twas possibly a Czar petite—
A Pope, or something of that kind!
If I must tell you, of a Horse
My freckled Monarch held the rein—
Doubtless an estimable Beast,
But not at all disposed to run!
And such a wagon! While I live
Dare I presume to see
Another such a vehicle
As then transported me!
Two other ragged Princes
His royal state partook!
Doubtless the first excursion
These sovereigns ever took!
I question if the Royal Coach
Round which the Footmen wait
Has the significance, on high,
Of this Barefoot Estate!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The Fitzroy Blacksmith
Under the spreading deficit,
The Fitzroy Smithy stands;
The smith, a spendthrift man is he,
With too much on his hands;
But the muscles of his brawny jaw
Are strong as iron bands.
Pay out, pay put, from morn till night,
You can hear the sovereigns go;
Or you'll hear him singing "Old Folks at Home",
In a deep bass voice and slow,
Like a bullfrog down in the village well
When the evening sun is low.
The Australian going "home" for loans
Looks in at the open door;
He loves to see the imported plant,
And to hear the furnace roar,
And to watch the private firms smash up
Like chaff on the threshing-floor.
Toiling, rejoicing, borrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some scheme begun
That never sees its close.
Something unpaid for, someone done,
Has earned a night's repose.
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Find Me A Butterfly...
Find Me A Butterfly,
On A Sweet, Summer Day
Find Me A Butterfly
So, I Can Play
Floating Here And There
Caressing Every Breeze
Flitting Near, Then Far Beyond
To Brightly Tease
Hovering For Awhile
Curiously O’er Crowds
Sitting On Our Windowsills
Then Dancing Up To Clouds
Find Me A Butterfly
In The Dead Of Winter
So, It Can Breach My Cocoon
In Metamorphosis Glimmer
And Give Me, Iridescent Wings
Silken Sight, So Fragile
What They Lack In Strength
They Make Up For, Being Agile
Falcons, Soar Like Sovereigns
And Honey Bees, Have Royal Queens
Man’s Airplanes Take The Lead
But Can’t Gust On Gossamer Crown-Wings
Proud Eagles, Are Sky Kings
Owls, Are Rulers Of The Dark
But None Can Lay Claim To Elegance
Like The Stately Air-Monarch
Find Me A Butterfly
When I’m Feeling Low
And If I Cannot Rise Above
I’ll Just Sit Back And Enjoy The Show
Written & ©: 2/20/10
By: The MoonBee
poem by MoonBee Canady
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The Inner Voice - Conscience
Laws on earth can be made, unmade;
Laws can be bettered or worsened by change;
Laws may be just or unjust and never perfect;
Laws can be changed for comfort and convenience.
Laws may change from time to time;
Laws cannot reflect truth always;
Laws depend on the constituent makers;
Laws can never be ideal for all times!
But the inner Voice -the Conscience is static;
It always speaks the truth irrevocably;
It is not transmutable anytime;
It can never lie ever even by chance.
The Inner Voice scores over laws always;
One's conscience always tells what is right;
Freedom of man's conscience is paramount;
Laws to stifle the Inner Voice are simply futile!
Laws are needed but must be just and fair;
Laws aren't needed to fetter the conscience;
Laws are man-made and transmutable;
Conscience is God-given, remaining the same in everyone!
Obey the laws when they are fair and just;
Heed to your Conscience, God's law-maker within!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 14-02-12
poem by John Celes
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Nefarious War
Last year we fought by the head-stream of the Sang-kan,
This year we are fighting on the Tsung-ho road.
We have washed our armor in the waves of the Chiao-chi lake,
We have pastured our horses on Tien-shan's snowy slopes.
The long, long war goes on ten thousand miles from home,
Our three armies are worn and grown old.
The barbarian does man-slaughter for plowing;
On this yellow sand-plains nothing has been seen but
blanched skulls and bones.
Where the Chin emperor built the walls against the Tartars,
There the defenders of Han are burning beacon fires.
The beacon fires burn and never go out,
There is no end to war!—
In the battlefield men grapple each other and die;
The horses of the vanquished utter lamentable cries to heaven,
While ravens and kites peck at human entrails,
Carry them up in their flight, and hang them on the branches of dead trees.
So, men are scattered and smeared over the desert grass,
And the generals have accomplished nothing.
Oh, nefarious war! I see why arms
Were so seldom used by the benign sovereigns.
To 'Colonel' Dan. Burns
They say, my lord, that you're a Warwick. Well,
The title's an absurd one, I believe:
You make no kings, you have no kings to sell,
Though really 'twere easy to conceive
You stuffing half-a-dozen up your sleeve.
No, you're no Warwick, skillful from the shell
To hatch out sovereigns. On a mare's nest, maybe,
You'd incubate a little jackass baby.
I fancy, too, that it is naught but stuff,
This 'power' that you're said to be 'behind
The throne.' I'm sure 'twere accurate enough
To represent you simply as inclined
To push poor Markham (ailing in his mind
And body, which were never very tough)
Round in an invalid's wheeled chair. Such menial
Employment to low natures is congenial.
No, Dan, you're an impostor every way:
A human bubble, for 'the earth,' you know,
'Hath bubbles, as the water hath.' Some day
Some careless hand will prick your film, and O,
How utterly you'll vanish! Daniel, throw
(As fallen Woolsey might to Cromwell say)
Your curst ambition to the pigs-though truly
'Twould make them greater pigs, and more unruly.
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Love Is Its Own Reward
Like kisses from ices
And tiffany tokens
Lifes full of surprises
So many emotions
Why try to fix
What isnt broken
Life comes in sovereigns
Love comes in gold
A cargo of moments
Youd swear you could hold
But it slips away somehow
(where) nobody knows
* love is its own reward
Love is its own reward
Take it or leave it
Fake it or feel it
Love is its own reward
Hoist the mainsail
To perilous waters
Step below deck
Youll find elegant quarters
Whos gonna save you
If you should falter
Watch the main phase
Sail through the century
Rise like a starman
And blaze on re-entry
Whats there to life
Running on empty
(* repeat)
Walking down main street
With cupid and psyche
Whom should we meet
But sweet aphrodite
I fall to my knees
And praise the almighty
We never go hungry
We never get bored
We are the future
That cant be ignored
Love can rob you of your thunder
And thats more than you can afford
(* repeat)
Love is its own reward
Love is its own reward
Take it or leave it
Let me reveal it
Love is its own reward
song performed by by Abc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Laws of God, The Laws of Man
The laws of God, the laws of man,
He may keep that will and can;
Not I: let God and man decree
Laws for themselves and not for me;
And if my ways are not as theirs
Let them mind their own affairs.
Their deeds I judge and much condemn,
Yet when did I make laws for them?
Please yourselves, say I, and they
Need only look the other way.
But no, they will not; they must still
Wrest their neighbor to their will,
And make me dance as they desire
With jail and gallows and hell-fire.
And how am I to face the odds
Of man's bedevilment and God's?
I, a stranger and afraid
In a world I never made.
They will be master, right or wrong;
Though both are foolish, both are strong.
And since, my soul, we cannot fly
To Saturn nor to Mercury,
Keep we must, if keep we can,
These foreign laws of God and man.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
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Laws
Laws created to curb the rise of domestic violence.
Laws created to curb the rise of racial tensions.
Laws created to curb interpretations,
Of what is and what is not politically correct.
But those who are corrupted and create the laws...
Can not see their own flaws,
That initiate the mess.
Laws created to curb a racial profiling on the rise.
Laws created to curb a greed that has affected lives.
Laws that limit freedoms to blatantly discriminate...
Those who do this anyway,
No matter what the laws are to perpetuate a hate.
Laws created to curb the rise of domestic violence.
Laws created to curb the rise of racial tensions.
Laws created to curb interpretations,
Of what is and what is not politically correct.
But those who are corrupted and create the laws...
Can not see their own flaws,
That initiate the mess.
And those upset by these laws,
Want more of them and yet neglect!
Like 'Commandments' given no respect.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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But black people fall for that same argument, and they go around talking about law breakers. We did not make the laws in this country. We are neither morally nor legally confined to those laws. Those laws that keep them up, keep us down.
quote by H. Rap Brown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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nature’s laws are encoded God’s laws
interlocking interrelated creation laws
time space big bang conception secrets
haiku by Terence George Craddock
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Simple Sister Goes To Sydney
When Flo resolved to go to town from brothers three a yell went up,
Predicting ruin and distress. Bill in his horror dropped a cup.
“Gorstruth!” he said, “in Sydney there what is a simple girl to do?
They took me down. I lost me watch and seven quid. What ‘ope for you?”
Ben turned on her in pale dismay. “Look here, me girl, ain’t you bin told
How one iv them there spieler blokes done me for twenty pound in gold?
He was as nice a gentleman as any in the blessed shops:
He got away with all I had, and took a luner at the cops.”
“Me, too,” said Dave, “that time I went to Sydney town to see the Show
One trimmed me for me bran’ new suit. You stay where we can watch you, Flo.”
Flo packed. “If spieler comes at me his finish will be sharp,” she said;
And when the boys next heard of her she’d got a bloke, and then was wed.
She wrote: “He’s rather nice, I think, and I am putting him to work.
Next Chrissmiss we are comin’ up to see yous people back o’ Bourke.”
And when he came he brought for Bill a silver watch and seven quid,
For Dave a bran’ new suit of check, a ruby tie-pin and a lid.
To Ben he handed twenty pounds, in nice new minted sovereigns, too.
And still the brothers gaped at him, and still their great amazement grew.
He was a natty kind of chap, with gentle manners, small and slim.
And when they spoke ‘twas as one man. “So ‘elp me cat,” they said, “it’s ‘im!”
poem by Edward George Dyson
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At the heart of these challenges lies the question of how the institutions of the European Union make laws, the types of laws they pass and the effectiveness with which those laws are implemented on civil society and the economy.
quote by John Hutton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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