The Leather Bottel
Now God alone that made all things,
Heaven and earth and all that's in,
The ships that in the seas do swim
To keep out foes from coming in,
Then every one does what he can,
All for the good and use of man:
And I wish in Heaven his soul may dwell
That first devis'd the leather bottel.
Now what d'ye say to cans of wood?
Faith, they're naught, they cannot be good;
For when a man for beer doth send,
To have them fill'd he doth intend;
The bearer stumbles by the way
And on the ground the beer doth lay;
Then doth the man begin to ban,
And swears 'twas long o' the wooden can;
But had it been in a leather bottel
It had not been so, for all had been well,
And safe therein it would remain
Until the man got up again:
And I wish in Heaven his soul may dwell,
That first devis'd the leather bottel.
What do you say to glasses fine?
Faith, they shall have no praise of mine;
For when a man's at table set
And by him several sorts of meat,
The one loves flesh, the other fish,
Then with your hand remove a dish,
Touch but the glass upon the brim,
The glass is broke, and naught left in,
The table-cloth though ne'er so fine
Is soil'd with beer, or ale, or wine,
And doubtless for so small abuse
A servant may his service lose:
But I wish in Heaven his soul may dwell,
That first devis'd the leather bottel.
What say you to the handled pot?
No praise of mine shall be its lot;
For when a man and wife's at strife,
As many have been in their life,
They lay their hands upon it both
And break the same although they're loth;
But woe to them shall bear the guilt,
Between them both the liquor's spilt,
For which they shall answer another day,
Casting so vainly their liquor away;
But if it had been leather-bottel'd,
One might have tugg'd, the other have held,
Both might have tugg'd till their hearts should break,
No harm the leather bottel could take:
Then I wish in Heaven his soul may dwell,
That first devis'd the leather bottel.
What say you to flagons of silver fine?
Why, faith, they shall have no praise of mine;
For when a lord for sack doth send,
To have them fill'd he doth intend,
The man with the flagon runs away
And never is seen after that day;
The lord then begins to swear and ban
For having lost both flagon and man;
But had it been either by page or groom
With a leather bottel it had come home:
And I wish in Heaven his soul may dwell,
That first devis'd the leather bottel.
And when this bottel is grown old
And that it will no longer hold,
Out o' the side you may cut a clout
To mend your shoes when they're worn out;
Then hang the rest up on a pin,
'Twill serve to put odd trifles in,
As rings, and awls, and candles' ends,
For young beginners have such things:
And I wish in Heaven his soul may dwell
That first devis'd the leather bottel.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Related quotes
Hell Bent For Leather
Seek him here, seek him on the highway
Never knowing when hell appear
All await, engines ticking over
Hear the roar as they sense the fear
Wheels! a glint of steel and a flash of light!
Screams! from a streak of fire as he strikes!
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Black as night, faster than a shadowcrimson flare from a raging sun
An exhibition, of sheer precision
Yet no one knows from where he comes
Fools! self destruct cannot take that crown
Dreams! crash one by one to the ground
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Theres many who tried to prove that theyre faster
But they didnt last and they died as they tried
Theres many who tried to prove that theyre faster
But they didnt last and they died as they tried
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
Hell bent, hell bent for leather
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My shoes
My shoes were brought to me on order
from Zimbabwe by a missionary,
a man who sell bibles
and sometimes give them away,
just before Robert Mugabe
did root out the manufacturers and sellers
and the rest of my order went to waste
with another pair of buffalo leather shoes
and a buffalo leather jacket as well.
The black handmade elephant leather shoes
do tread far roads with me,
they try to walk on the tracks
of my deceased father,
try to stand up with integrity
like my late grandmother wanted.
The other day I had them re-soled,
to lay down some more tracks
and the elephant leather
might last a life time
and I wonder how the future
folds open before them?
poem by Gert Strydom
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A girl in leather shoes
I am a girl in leather shoes
without socks, a girl who has
no need of socks, a girl
who has few friends-
but doesn't need any.
A strong girl, with real opinions
in her head; sockless in her leather shoes,
a girl whose stride is purposeful,
feet secure inside the leather,
a girl who wears nothing artificial,
who takes in nothing not genuine-
And if she should ever sweat,
this brave, sockless girl,
who knows exactly where she is going
safe in her leather
and her strong opinions-
she would never, never let it show.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Everything is broken nothing is right
Everything around me is broken.
Nothing remains a whole.
For anger overtakes my life.
Leaving me in hell of a rage.
I have a broken heart.
I have a broken body.
My head a mess.
My heart shatted in a millon peices.
Broken trust broken life.
Broken bottel broken glass.
Nice sharp razor blade.
Blood pouring down.
Blood running in a stream.
Flowing peacfully away.
Now the badness is free.
If only for a while.
Repeat the cycle.
Dont face to my emotions.
Just cut it all away.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Leather Rebel
Hero of the night.
Blood and thunder rushing through me
Till the dawn of light
The sky is turning red
Like a renegade
All alone I walk through fire
Till I crash and blaze
I'm living on the edge
Start a chain reaction
Sears the neon light
Stealing all the action
Always takes the fight
Leather Rebel
Lightning in the dark
Leather Rebel
With a burning heart
Master of the streets
Bullet proof and bound for glory
Cities at my feet
I'm turning on the power
Running wild and free
No-one dares to stand before me
That's my destiny
To rule the darkest hours
I can see my future:
Writings on the wall
Legend in my lifetime
Stories will recall
Leather Rebel
Lightning in the dark
Leather Rebel
With a burning heart
I can see my future:
Writings on the wall
Legend in my lifetime
Stories will recall
Leather Rebel
Lightning in the dark
Leather Rebel
With a burning heart
Leather Rebel
song performed by by Judas Priest from Painkiller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wear my heart in my shoes
Home is where the heart is,
I probably carry mine in my shoes,
Shoes of leather, sturdy, used & worn,
covered in mud.
The British countryside,
All Hills and bumps
and wide open fields,
Muddy & Wet,
Dotted with quaint little towns,
Rivers Runny Through.
Home is where the heart is,
My home is between my stinking socks,
and my leather sole.
If home is where my heart is,
I tread on it everyday,
I probably wear it in my shoes.
poem by Sam Seymour
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Cowboys And Angels
(Kent Blazy, Kim Williams, Garth Brooks)
On the eighth day God noticed a problem
For there below Him stood a cowboy alone
Stubborn and proud, reckless and loud
God knew he'd never make it on his own
So God looked out all over creation
And listened as that cowboy prayed
God took passion and thunder
Patience and wonder then He sent down
The best thing that God ever made
Cowboys and angels leather and lace
Salt of the earth meets heavenly grace
Cowboys and angels tested and tried
I'ts a long way to heaven
And one hell of a ride
Nothin's changed since the dawn of creation
For you will find them together today
And only heaven above them knows why
she loves him
But he must be the reason she don't fly away
Cowboys and angels leather and lace
Salt of the earth meets heavenly grace
Cowboys and angels tested and tried
It's a long way to heaven
And one hell of a ride
It's a long way to heaven
And one hell of a ride.
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is easier to put leather on the soles of one's feet than cover the world with leather.
The Progress of the Spark
XVIth Circuit -- Donne
This spark now set, retarded, yet forbears
To hold her light however so he swears
That turns a metalled crank, and leather cloked,
With some small hammers tappeth hither an yon;
Peering as when she showeth and when is gone;
For wait he must till the vext Power's evoked
That's one with the lightnings. Wait in the showers soaked;
Or by the road-side sunned. She'll not progress.
Poor soul, here taught how great things may by less
Be stayed, to file contacts doth himself address!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Psalm 84
How lovely are thy dwellings fair!
O Lord of Hoasts, how dear
The pleasant Tabernacles are!
Where thou do'st dwell so near.
My Soul doth long and almost die
Thy Courts O Lord to see,
My heart and flesh aloud do crie,
O living God, for thee.
There ev'n the Sparrow freed from wrong
Hath found a house of rest,
The Swallow there, to lay her young
Hath built her brooding nest,
Ev'n by thy Altars Lord of Hoasts
They find their safe abode,
And home they fly from round the Coasts
Toward thee, My King, my God
Happy, who in thy house reside
Where thee they ever praise,
Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide,
And in their hearts thy waies.
They pass through Baca's thirstie Vale,
That dry and barren ground
As through a fruitfull watry Dale
Where Springs and Showrs abound.
They journey on from strength to strength
With joy and gladsom cheer
Till all before our God at length
In Sion do appear.
Lord God of Hoasts hear now my praier
O Jacobs God give ear,
Thou God our shield look on the face
Of thy anointed dear.
For one day in thy Courts to be
Is better, and mere blest
Then in the joyes of Vanity,
A thousand daies at best.
I in the temple of my God
Had rather keep a dore,
Then dwell in Tents, and rich abode
With Sin for evermore
For God the Lord both Sun and Shield
Gives grace and glory bright,
No good from him shall be with-held
Whose waies are just and right.
Lord God of Hoasts that raign 'st on high,
That man is truly blest
Who only on thee doth relie.
And in thee only rest.
poem by John Milton
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To a Pair of Blucher Boots
OLD acquaintance unforgotten,
Though you may be “ugly brutes”—
Though your leather’s cracked and rotten,
Worn-out pair of Blucher boots.
’Tis the richer man before you,
Dearer leathers grace his feet;
’Twas the better man that wore you
In the tramps through dust and heat!
Oft rebuffed by “super’s” snarling,
When I asked him for a “show”,
On that long tramp to the Darling
In the days of long ago;
Tell me, if you know it, whether,
As I sadly tramped away,
Bore I heavy on your leather,
Worn-out pair of Bluchers, say?
Though your leather’s cracked and rotten,
Though you may be ugly brutes,
I’ll preserve you unforgotten,
Worn-out pair of Blucher boots!
poem by Henry Lawson
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Heaven Is My Dream Home
Heaven is my home, home home home
Heaven Is my traditional home
Heaven is a place of peace and joy
Heaven I look to you
Heaven keep remembering me to keep my ways
Heaven where I will see choir's sing in Glory of my lord
Heaven is the Land of gold, sliver, and diamond
Heaven is my dream home.
Heaven when will I see you again
Heaven where old became young
Heaven where you shall strength no more
Heaven rejoice with righteous people
Heaven is a place where all soul are longing for
Heaven where I shall be reward
Heaven where there will be holiness among all soul
Heaven I need you.
poem by Abidemi Aniyeloye
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Sixteen
Pop
Sweet 16 in leather boots
Body and soul, I go crazy
Baby, baby Im a hungry, sweet 16
Funky bar all full of faces
Pretty faces, beautiful faces
Body and soul, body and soul
I give to you
I am an easy mark with my broken heart
Sweet 16
Show you my explosion, sweet 16
Go out to the funky bar
I get hurt, crying inside
cause everybodys so fine
And they dont need me.
Tell me what can I do, sweet 16
I give you my body and soul sweet 16
I must be hungry cause I go crazy
Over your leather boots
Now baby I know...
Thats not normal
But I love you, I love you
I love you, sweet 16
(everywhere I go, I love it!!)
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Epitaph For Joseph Blackett, Late Poet And Shoemaker
Stranger! behold, interr'd together,
The souls of learning and of leather.
Poor Joe is gone, but left his all:
You'll find his relics in a stall.
His works were neat, and often found
Well stitch'd, and with morocco bound.
Tread lightly -- where the bard is laid
He cannot mend the shoe he made;
Yet is he happy in his hole,
With verse immortal as his sole.
But still to business he held fast,
And stuck to Phobus to the last.
Then who shall say so good a fellow
Was only 'leather and prunella?'
For character - he did not lack it
And if he did, 'twere shame to 'Black it.
Malta, May 16, 1811.
Young American
They pulled in just behind the fridge
He lays her down, he frowns
"Gee my life's a funny thing, am I still too young?"
He kissed her then and there
She took his ring, took his babies
It took him minutes, took her nowhere
Heaven knows, she'd have taken anything, but
All night
She wants the young American
Young American, young American, she wants the young American
All right
She wants the young American
Scanning life through the picture windows
She finds the slinky vagabond
He coughs as he passes her Ford Mustang, but
Heaven forbid, she'll take anything
But the freak, and his type, all for nothing
He misses a step and cuts his hand, but
Showing nothing, he swoops like a song
She cries "Where have all Papa's heroes gone?"
All night
She wants the young American
Young American, young American, she wants the young American
All right
She wants the young American
All the way from Washington
Her bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor
"We live for just these twenty years
Do we have to die for the fifty more?"
All night
He wants the young American
Young American, young American, he wants the young American
All right
He wants the young American
Do you remember, your President Nixon?
Do you remember, the bills you have to pay
Or even yesterday
Have you been an un-American?
Just you and your idol singing falsetto 'bout
Leather, leather everywhere, and
Not a myth left from the ghetto
Well, well, well, would you carry a razor
In case, just in case of depression
Sit on your hands on a bus of survivors
Blushing at all the afro-Sheilas
Ain't that close to love?
Well, ain't that poster love?
Well, it ain't that Barbie doll
Her heart's been broken just like you have
And
All night
You want the young American
Young American, young American, you want the young American
All right
You want the young American
You ain't a pimp and you ain't a hustler
A pimp's got a Cadi and a lady got a Chrysler
Black's got respect, and white's got his soul train
Mama's got cramps, and look at your hands ache
I heard the news today, oh boy
I got a suite and you got defeat
Ain't there a man you can say no more?
And, ain't there a woman I can sock on the jaw?
And, ain't there a child I can hold without judging?
Ain't there a pen that will write before they die?
Ain't you proud that you've still got faces?
Ain't there one damn song that can make me
break down and cry?
All night
I want the young American
Young American, young American, I want the young American
All right
I want the young American
Young American
Young American, young American, I want the young American
(I want with you, I want with you want)
All right
(You want it, I want you you, you want I, I want you want)
Young American, young American, I want the young American (I want to want, to want, to want , to want I, I want you)
All right
(Lord I wanted the young american)
(young american)
Young American, Young American
I want the young American
Mmmmmm mmm
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I deliberately decided to write a kind of guide to leather bars for straight people, for people not into leather, so that people could see what it was all about.
Young Americans
They pulled in just behind the fridge
He lays her down, he frowns
Gee my lifes a funny thing, am I still too young?
He kissed her then and there
She took his ring, took his babies
It took him minutes, took her nowhere
Heaven knows, shed have taken anything, but
All night
She wants the young american
Young american, young american, she wants the young american
All right
She wants the young american
Scanning life through the picture windows
She finds the slinky vagabond
He coughs as he passes her ford mustang, but
Heaven forbid, shell take anything
But the freak, and his type, all for nothing
He misses a step and cuts his hand, but
Showing nothing, he swoops like a song
She cries where have all papas heroes gone?
All night
She wants the young american
Young american, young american, she wants the young american
All right
She wants the young american
All the way from washington
Her bread-winner begs off the bathroom floor
We live for just these twenty years
Do we have to die for the fifty more?
All night
He wants the young american
Young american, young american, he wants the young american
All right
He wants the young american
Do you remember, your president nixon?
Do you remember, the bills you have to pay
Or even yesterday
Have you been an un-american?
Just you and your idol singing falsetto bout
Leather, leather everywhere, and
Not a myth left from the ghetto
Well, well, well, would you carry a razor
In case, just in case of depression
Sit on your hands on a bus of survivors
Blushing at all the afro-sheilas
Aint that close to love?
Well, aint that poster love?
Well, it aint that barbie doll
Her hearts been broken just like you have
And
All night
You want the young american
Young american, young american, you want the young american
All right
You want the young american
You aint a pimp and you aint a hustler
A pimps got a cadi and a lady got a chrysler
Blacks got respect, and whites got his soul train
Mamas got cramps, and look at your hands ache
I heard the news today, oh boy
I got a suite and you got defeat
Aint there a man you can say no more?
And, aint there a woman I can sock on the jaw?
And, aint there a child I can hold without judging?
Aint there a pen that will write before they die?
Aint you proud that youve still got faces?
Aint there one damn song that can make me
Break down and cry?
All night
I want the young american
Young american, young american, I want the young american
All right
I want the young american
Young american
Young american, young american, I want the young american
(I want with you, I want with you want)
All right
(you want it, I want you you, you want i, I want you want)
Young american, young american, I want the young american (I want to want, to want, to want , to want i, I want you)
All right
(lord I wanted the young american)
(young american)
Young american, young american
I want the young american
Mmmmmm mmm
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slap Leather
Take all the money that we need for school
And to keep the street people in out of the cold
Spend it on a weapon you can never use
Make the world an offer that they cant refuse
Open up the door and let the shark-men feed
Hoover of the future in the land of greed
Sell the ponderosa to the japanese
Slap leather, head for that line of trees, yeah
Slap leather
Go on ron
Just about to go myself
Turn the whole wide world into a tv show
So its just the same game wherever you go
You never meet a soul that you dont already know
One big advertisement for the status quo
As if these celebrities were your close friends
As if you knew how the story ends
As if you werent sitting in a room alone
And there was somebody real at the other end of the phone, yeah
Squibnocket
Phone sex
Just about to dial your number
Get all worked up so we can go to war
We find something worth killing for
Tie a yellow ribbon around your eyes
Big mcfalafel and a side of fries
Yeah, big mcfalafel
Stormin norman
I just love a parade
Slap leather
Phone love
Big mcfalafel
Just about to dial myself
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 21: So is it not with me as with that muse
So is it not with me as with that muse,
Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse,
Who heaven it self for ornament doth use
And every fair with his fair doth rehearse,
Making a couplement of proud compare
With sun and moon, with earth and sea's rich gems,
With April's first-born flowers, and all things rare
That heaven's air in this huge rondure hems.
O, let me, true in love, but truly write,
And then, believe me, my love is as fair
As any mother's child, though not so bright
As those gold candles fixed in heaven's air.
Let them say more that like of hearsay well;
I will not praise that purpose not to sell.
poem by William Shakespeare
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I Am The Living Bread: Meditation Eight: John 6:51
I kening through Astronomy Divine
The Worlds bright Battlement, wherein I spy
A Golden Path my Pensill cannot line,
From that bright Throne unto my Threshold ly.
And while my puzzled thoughts about it pore
I finde the Bread of Life in’t at my doore.
When that this Bird of Paradise put in
This Wicker Cage (my Corps) to tweedle praise
Had peckt the Fruite forbad: and so did fling
Away its Food; and lost its golden dayes;
It fell into Celestiall Famine sore:
And never could attain a morsell more.
Alas! alas! Poore Bird, what wilt thou doe?
The Creatures field no food for Souls e’re gave.
And if thou knock at Angells dores they show
An Empty Barrell: they no soul bread have.
Alas! Poore Bird, the Worlds White Loafe is done
And cannot yield thee here the smallest Crumb.
In this sad state, Gods Tender Bowells run
Out streams of Grace: And he to end all strife
The Purest Wheate in Heaven, his deare-dear Son
Grinds, and kneads up into this Bread of Life.
Which Bread of Life from Heaven down came and stands
Disht on thy Table up by Angells Hands.
Did God mould up this Bread in Heaven, and bake,
Which from his Table came, and to thine goeth?
Doth he bespeake thee thus, This Soule Bread take.
Come Eate thy fill of this thy Gods White Loafe?
Its Food too fine for Angells, yet come, take
And Eate thy fill. Its Heavens Sugar Cake.
What Grace is this knead in this Loafe? This thing
Souls are but petty things it to admire.
Yee Angells, help: This fill would to the brim
Heav’ns whelm’d-down Chrystall meele Bowle, yea and higher.
This Bread of Life dropt in thy mouth, doth Cry.
Eate, Eate me, Soul, and thou shalt never dy.
poem by Edward Taylor
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