Now the master paid a number of visits to England and, as a Cambridge man, it is a source of pride that he taught there for a longer period than elsewhere in my country.
quote by John G. D. Clark
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
As Festivities Bring Cheer
Short nights get longer,
When an hour from them is turned back to save.
And during this time of the year,
As winter approaches near in New England.
And that daylight that stayed,
Appears to slowly drift away...
From those longer days when the Sun would come.
And everyone enjoyed the having of fun.
Then October brings Halloween.
And in November Thanks is given.
Who doesn't think of Christmas in December?
With a passing of it to bring a New Year that visits.
Short nights get longer,
When an hour from them is turned back to save.
And during this time of the year,
As winter approaches near in New England...
Few are heard complaining as festivities bring cheer.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What qualifies me to tell people how to act or what to think? I'm Charley Pride, country singer. Period.
quote by Charley Pride
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The love of their country is with them only a mode of flattering its master; as soon as they think that master can no longer hear, they speak of everything with a frankness which is the more startling because those who listen to it become responsible.
quote by Marquis De Custine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pro Rege Nostro
WHAT have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful Sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice again
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England: --
'Take and break us: we are yours,
England, my own!
Life is good, and joy runs high
Between English earth and sky:
Death is death; but we shall die
To the Song on your bugles blown, England --
To the stars on your bugles blown!'
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mailed hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies,
You could know nor dread nor ease,
Were the Song on your bugles blown, England --
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword,
There's the menace of the Word
In the Song of your bugles blown, England --
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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What Have I Done For You
What have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful Sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice agen
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England:-
'Take and break us: we are yours,
'England, my own!
'Life is good, and joy runs high
'Between English earth and sky:
'Death is death; but we shall die
'To the Song on your bugles blown,
'England -
'To the stars on your bugles blown!
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mailed hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies
You could know nor dread nor ease
Were the Song on your bugles blown,
England,
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient sword,
There's the menace of the Word
In the Song on your bugles blown,
England -
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Ripoff
I don't wanna be no traitor to the cause
But England is a luxury - not many can afford
There's people going under - it's getting out of hand
Whatever happened to our - our green and pleasant land?
It turned into a wilderness; it turned into a third world country
Most people ain't getting what they pay for
Some people gettin' more than they should be
I know, I know - I'm an alien - but what are you gonna do
I wanna live in England - but it gets to you
It gets to you, it gets to you, it gets to you
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
I really don't know why - England wants to rip off you
England wants to rip off you, England wants to rip off you
What do you do when you find out?
Where do you go if you leave?
There's no place like home - that's what they say
And that's what you always believed
Someday you might win the Lottery
Someday you might win the Pools
But that's all you've got - that's all you've got
- to live for, to live for
That's all you've got - that's all you've got -
to live for, to live for (yeah)
To be or not to be - that's the question
Oh what's it gonna be?
I'd love to live in England - but it gets to me
it gets to me, it gets to me, yeah it gets to me
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
I really don't know why - England wants to rip off you
England wants to rip off you, England wants to rip off you
I really don't know why - England's such a ripoff
It's crazy, but it's true
Oh I really don't know why - England wants to rip off
England wants to rip off , England wants to rip o
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sometimes, instead of purchasing a commodity out and out, people want to buy only the use of it, for a longer or shorter period. The price paid for such temporary use is commonly called hire.
quote by John Buchanan Robinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Country Lied
I lack the urge but have the skill.
My country taught me how to kill.
I had no choice could not refuse
nobody asked me for my views.
They said my country needed
to subjugate the enemy.
I was still young, green and naïve.
That I was sure I should believe
that what they told me must be true.
That it was something I should do.
But I discovered in due course
we were fighting to enforce
on those with just cause for dissent.
A very unjust settlement,
the promises my country made
and did not keep. We now forbade
their self determination.
The right of every nation,
it was battle we must lose.
The people have the right to choose.
To be an independent state
no longer seen as second rate.
Which they achieved eventually
they were not just a colony.
On looking back it seems to me
my country lied apparently.
An abuse of authority
I will not forget easily.
I lack the urge but have the skill.
My country taught me how to kill.
Though I can say with confidence
I’d only kill in self defence.
23-Jun-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Source Of Confort
God is a source of energy
God is a source of light
God is a source of love
God is a source of peace
God is a source of comfort
God is a source of hope
God is a source of freedom
God is a source of praise
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Knowing you might some day come
Knowing you might some day come
and how unprepared I’ve always
been
like Mr. Sloppy
in Charles Dickens’
our Mutual Friend
I made a list:
not meat, vegetables, beer and pudding
but number l, warmth.
number 2, warmth.
number 3, warmth.
number 4, a good snuggler.
number 5, someone who sings
while he/she works.
number 6, a dancer.
number 7, someone who grows & is
intrigued by
the mind. And
by the spirit too.
Number 7, someone who is loved
by animals; and loves
them back without
a thought.
number 8, someone who smells
delicious.
number 9, someone whose anger
lasts no longer than mine.
number 10, someone who
stands beside me. behind me. If necessary
in front of me.
number 11, someone who
is a passable cook.
number 12, Someone who laughs
a lot, thinks I have a fine
sense
of humor
& has friends.
number 13, someone who can be
original in dress:
stylish
warlock –In silver, lapis
& black – to my witch.
poem by Alice Walker
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England, My England
WHAT have I done for you,
England, my England?
What is there I would not do,
England, my own?
With your glorious eyes austere,
As the Lord were walking near,
Whispering terrible things and dear
As the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Round the world on your bugles blown!
Where shall the watchful sun,
England, my England,
Match the master-work you've done,
England, my own?
When shall he rejoice agen
Such a breed of mighty men
As come forward, one to ten,
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Down the years on your bugles blown?
Ever the faith endures,
England, my England:--
'Take and break us: we are yours,
England, my own!
Life is good, and joy runs high
Between English earth and sky:
Death is death; but we shall die
To the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
To the stars on your bugles blown!'
They call you proud and hard,
England, my England:
You with worlds to watch and ward,
England, my own!
You whose mail'd hand keeps the keys
Of such teeming destinies,
You could know nor dread nor ease
Were the Song on your bugles blown,
England,
Round the Pit on your bugles blown!
Mother of Ships whose might,
England, my England,
Is the fierce old Sea's delight,
England, my own,
Chosen daughter of the Lord,
Spouse-in-Chief of the ancient Sword,
There 's the menace of the Word
In the Song on your bugles blown,
England--
Out of heaven on your bugles blown!
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Alf’s Second Bit
THE NEO-COMMUNE
Manhood of England,
Dougth of the Shires,
Want Russia to save 'em
And answer their prayers.
Want Russia to save 'em,
Lenin to save 'em, Trotsky to save 'em
(And valets to shave 'em)
The youth of the Shires!
Down there in Cambridge
Between auction and plain bridge,
Romance, revolution 1918!
An idea between 'em
I says! 'ave you seen 'em?
The flower of Cambridge,
The youth of the Shires?
poem by Ezra Pound
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That's Why I Value Number One
For clarity purposes.
You are in no position to place demands on me.
Let's make that acknowledgement number one!
I've been in relationships and split from them,
Because it had been believed my needs would be neglected.
That's number two!
Never do that.
Not even if you wanted that done to you.
And I am not one who wallows in doubt.
If I know there is not an exchange of desires met,
I do not seek explanations from therapists or counselors.
Number three will never happen to me.
No third party will be giving me advice.
Period!
If it is not working out for me...
There is no research that could be done,
To awaken my heart feeling overjoyed with discovery.
That's why I value number one.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Am Not Proud Of My Country
I love my Homeland Country and of it's scenic sights I sing
But I don't say I am proud to be Irish as proud has a patriotic ring
And those who feel proud of their Country often go that step too far
As pride leads to patriotism and patriotism leads to war.
I have never waved my Country's flag at parade or football game
And I am not Proud of my country though I love it just the same
For pride and love are different as different as can be
And pride that leads to patriotism has never appealed to me.
Some people on flag post in their front yard fly their Country's flag
And I am proud of my Country you hear them proudly brag
But others worthiness and cultures they never could embrace
And without saying so they are telling you that ours is a superior race.
I am proud of my Country you will never hear me say
Though many feel that pride and patriotism are good and quite okay
But how many young men have died in wars due to patriotic pride
Love brings people together whilst pride and patriotism divide.
I have never been a soldier or had honours to my name
And I am not Proud of my Country though I love it just the same
And those who feel proud of their Country can take that step too far
For pride leads to patriotism and patriotism can lead to war.
poem by Francis Duggan
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When goods are exchanged between countries, they must be paid for by commodities or gold. They cannot be paid for by the notes, certificates, and checks of the purchaser's country, since these are of value only in the country of issue.
quote by Carroll Quigley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All American Country Boy
(keith stegall/charlie craig)
I work a forty hour week and I earn my keep
And I try to walk proud and tall
I keep my nose to the ground, I dont get behind
And I dont back up at all
Well my necks a little red, my collars blue
I sip a little coffee, and I drink a little booze
cause Im an all american country boy
Im my daddys spittin image and my mamas pride and joy
There aint nothing down home that I really dont enjoy
cause Im an all american country boy
I drive a pickup truck and I dont pass the buck
And I always speak my mind
Im hooked on t.v., rolaids, and b.c.s
And I know how to have a good time
Im a little bit rowdy and a little bit tame
Aint no way Im ever gonna change
cause Im an all american country boy
Im my daddys spittin image and my mamas pride and joy
There aint nothing down home that I really dont enjoy
cause Im an all american country boy
Well I must admit that Ive mellowed a bit
Father time can slow you down
Im still doin all I used to do
It just takes a little longer now
cause Im an all american country boy
Im my daddys spittin image and my mamas pride and joy
There aint nothing down home that I really dont enjoy
cause Im an all american country boy
Im just a country boy
A good ol country boy
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I grew up in Cambridge in England, and my love of mathematics dates from those early childhood days.
quote by Andrew Wiles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rescued!
Seas...rough, the sky…lightening and thunder
Charts...unclear, choices made led to blunder
The sailing ship My Life was going under
Scow number one wouldn't stay on course
She drifted away from me, back to her source
Away, away she blew, fast as a wild horse
Next, I climbed aboard dinghy number two
Maintaining her, more than I could attend to
No favorable wind, the voyage went askew
Safe and secure in lifeboat number three
No longer foundering amongst the debris
Fleeing the devil and the deep blue sea
Her trajectory was true and it did not falter
Rescued! Safe on my Rock of Gibraltar
Scuttlebutt is; I'm taking her to the altar
poem by Charles Hancock
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Jesus Is A Highly Evolved Being
Jesus new that all Beings where from the same Source,
he help enlightened people, he didn’t show remorse.
He knew of other dimensions and he could work with spirit world,
he could heal animal, humans; boy or girl.
He was too far ahead of his time,
he was a Master and One with the Divine.
He taught us that heaven is within,
not in the sky where we see birds with wings.
He wanted others to follow his way,
not to make him a God and use his name in vain.
Other Highly Evolved Beings among us,
some others came and went,
they were teachers like Jesus that the Source sent.
Written By Christina Sunrise On December 19,2011
www.christinasunrise.com www.suechevalier.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Mubarak Pride?
Mubarak pride purchase price paid
in costly country millions not cheap.
Mubarak pride is worth more than
economy of an entire nation of Egypt.
Mubarak face saving speech worth
more than potential Nile River run blood.
Mubarak pride is worth more than
all tourism all trade all people terror bled.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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