Chorus Of Women
They're always abusing the women,
As a terrible plague to men:
They say we're the root of all evil,
And repeat it again and again;
Of war, and quarrels, and bloodshed,
All mischief, be what it may!
And pray, then, why do you marry us,
If we're all the plagues you say?
And why do you take such care of us,
And keep us so safe at home,
And are never easy a moment
If ever we chance to roam?
When you ought to be thanking heaven
That your Plague is out of the way,
You all keep fussing and fretting--
'Where is _my_ Plague to-day?'
If a Plague peeps out of the window,
Up go the eyes of men;
If she hides, then they all keep staring
Until she looks out again.
poem by Aristophanes
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Related quotes
Plague Plague Plague
Dead dog dead dog
Guts all down the freeway
in a dirty red streak
fur all mangled lookin
like Bob Dylan's hair
Plague plague plague
My dog's name was Missi
after this cousin I kinda
didn't like
but I never hated either
one to where I wanted
a dead cousin or dead dog dead dog
Plague Plague Plague
My cousin never writes
so I don't know what's up with her
but I know I got a dead dog dead dog
hit by a semi and pasted on the freeway
like gaudy modern art
Plague Plague Plague
Missi was a boy and he was a good dog
now he's a dead dog dead dog
let's go get drunk and
sing songs about Missi
his favorite one was that rambling
one about
Plague Plague Plague
poem by Smack Thompson
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If a Daughter You Have
If a daughter you have, she's the plague of your life,
No peace shall you know, tho' you've buried your wife,
At twenty she mocks at the duty you taught her,
O, what a plague is an obstinate daughter.
Sighing and whining,
Dying and pining,
O, what a plague is an obstinate daughter.
When scarce in their teens, they have wit to perplex us,
With letters and lovers for ever they vex us,
While each still rejects the fair suitor you've brought her,
O, what a plague is an obstinate daughter.
Wrangling and jangling,
Flouting and pouting,
O, what a plague is an obstinate daughter.
poem by Richard Brinsley Sheridan
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Berkeley in Time of Plague
Plague took us and the land from under us,
Rose like a boil, enclosing us within.
We waited and the blue skies writhed awhile
Becoming black with death.
Plague took us and the chairs from under us,
Stepped cautiously while entering the room
(We were discussing Yeats): it paused awhile
Then smiled and made us die.
Plague took us, laughed, and reproportioned us,
Swelled us to dizzy, unaccustomed size.
We died prodigiously; it hurt awhile
But left a certain quiet in our eyes.
poem by Jack Spicer
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A revolution is interesting insofar as it avoids like the plague the plague it promised to heal.
quote by Daniel Berrigan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tell me why
TELL me why, behind thee,
I see always the shadow of another lover?
Is it real
Or is this the thrice-damned memory of a better happiness?
Plague on him if he be dead
Plague on him if he be alive
A swinish numbskull
To intrude his shade
Always between me and my peace.
poem by Stephen Crane
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Nothing is ever well done in a hurry, except flying from the plague or from quarrels, and catching fleas.
Infectious Grooves
Insane-the mother funksters tear it up
The beat-that makes you wanna stomp it up
Rhythm-you just can't get enough of the Infectious Grooves
Hardcore-and then they switch it to the smooth
Got vibe-mix it in with the groove
The plague-that's gonna make you booty move it's the Infectious Grooves
Gave it-the network of ability
Threw in-all kind of insanity
Add it up-and now you got the recipe of The Infectious Grooves
Chorus:
Talk to me baby you should of been good-you think you're on it
but you ain't got nothing on me
It aon't as if I hadn't told you so
So now you sit and then you go and when you hear it
Damn-that's what you say when you hear us
Jam-'cause the boys know how to make it all
Slam-now you wanna get with the program of the Infectious Grooves
Pack'n-a loc'd kinda zak that's
Attack'n-with the bass that's pump'n and
Smack'n-leave you breathless coughing and hack'n with Infectious Grooves
We found- the hippest, hardest, heaviest sound
Took it straight from the underground
Now you got the plague that's going around, known as Infectious Grooves
Talk to me baby it's me again
I love to tell you 'cause it ain't the way that you wanna hear
You try to stop it, but I seen you move your booty
Move that booty, mmm that's a booty, she has a very nice booty Infectious
Now you know it's Infectious
It's Infectious-the rhythm that'll tear it up
Infectious-the beat that makes you get on up
Infectious-the mother funksters tear it up-with the Infectious Grooves
Infectious-A loc'd kinda zak that's
Infectious-with the bass that's pumpin and
Infectious-leave you breathless coughing and the Infectious Grooves
Infectious-switch to the smooth and it's
Infectious-miz it in the groove and it's
Infectous-the plague that makes your booty move it's the Infectious Grooves
Infectous-the plague that makes your
Infectous-the plague that makes your
Infectous-the plague that makes your booty move it's the Infectious Grooves
song performed by by Infectious Grooves
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Do You See In Him ?
Oh, the nights are too long
When the questions are long
I tried, but I will never understand
What do you see in him ?
What do you see in him ?
Oh ...
Shes the lifeblood of me
As you walk hand in hand
And I try, and I try, and I try
But I will never understand
Oh, what do you see in him ?
I ask myself :-
What do you see in him ?
Oh ...
But she will plague you and I will be glad
Yes, she will plague you and I will be glad
Oh ...
Oh ...
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As for AIDS, it's a plague. We are human, we get plagues. They come along every so often, kill off two thirds of the population; in the next generation it's a quarter; after that it's a childhood disease.
quote by Larry Niven
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tears Of The fatherland
So, now we are destroyed; utterly; more than utterly!
The gang of shameless peoples, the maddening music of war,
The sword fat with blood, the thundering of the guns
Have consumed our sweat and toil, exhausted our reserves.
Towers are on fire, churches turned upside down;
The town hall is in ruins, the strong cut down, destroyed.
Young girls are raped; wherever we turn our gaze,
Fire, plague, and death pierce heart and spirit through.
Here, town and ramparts run with ever-fresh streams of blood.
It's three times six years now, since our mighty river's flow
Was blocked almost by corpses, just barely trickling through.
Yet, I pass over in silence something more terrible than death,
More desperate even than plague, fire and famine;
That so many were bereaved of their soul's treasure too.
poem by Andreas Gryphius
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Stanzas Subjoined To The Yearly Bill Of Mortality Of The Parish Of All-Saints, Northampton. Anno Domini 1787
While thirteen moons saw smoothly run
The Nen's barge-laden wave,
All these, life's rambling journey done,
Have found their home, the grave.
Was man (frail always) made more frail
Than in foregoing years?
Did famine or did plague prevail,
That so much death appears?
No; these were vigorous as their sires,
Nor plague nor famine came;
This annual tribute Death requires,
And never waives his claim.
Like crowded forest-trees we stand,
And some are marked to fall;
The axe will smite at God's command,
And soon shall smite us all.
Green as the bay tree, ever green,
WIth its new foliage on,
The gay, the thoughtless, have I seen,
I passed, -- and they were gone.
Read, ye that run, the awful truth
With which I charge my page!
A worm is in the bud of youth,
And at the root of age.
No present health can health insure
For yet an hour to come;
No meicine, though it oft can cure
Can always balk the tomb.
And oh! that humble as my lot,
And scorned as is my strain,
These truths, though known, too much forgot,
I may not teach in vain.
So prays your Clerk with all his heart,
And, ere he quits the pen,
Begs you for once to take his part,
And answer all -- Amen!
poem by William Cowper
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That Which Plagues the History Bandits
The History Bandits swinging...
Swinging in History roll.
Up comes one leader,
Ousted or assassinated by another.
The complaints of many
Feeding the avarice of one,
Makes the humdrum into history.
An idealist Wilson, a vengeful Clemenceau or
A prudent Lloyd George...who wishes to know?
The inspiring evil Hitler or politically capitalistic Americans
Or the fearless bloody Communists...
Mould the mounds of history.
A guilty country pleading innocence,
A Rasputinian government brought down by Rasputin
Or a prince who fashioned the legends of the creatures that
Plague the human existence.
What makes History?
Of what use is History?
The questions that plague the History Bandits.
Take up the sword of ink,
Oil the wheels that turn in your head,
And ponder anew on the questions that
Makes you wonder.
Go forth the History Bandits...
Go forth, and claim your rightful path.
poem by Cheryl Jacob
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Endangered Species
I try to simplify, these thoughts that plague our minds
What is this mood we're in, we live like saints with sin
How much to dignify, the facts that come to light
We've lost the will to fight
At the top of the food chain we arrive (we arrive)
Are we destined to grow old
Are we really the right strain to survive (to survive)
We've got to redeem our souls, souls
Unable to comply, so eager to defy
The risk when you apply, it hurts when loved ones die
Where is the moment when, existence will depend
The test of now and then
[Chorus x1]
(constant ending, no real mending)
If we keep on living like we are
There isn't a chance that we'll get very far
So much waster, so much lost
Its out job to alter the terrible cost
[Chorus x1]
W are the endangered species
We're running out of time....[repeat]
song performed by by Flaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Man
Deserted now: The village stands.
The plague has taken everyone
But still the work of human hands
preserved in every stick and stone.
The bodies long returned to dust.
No living soul now dare come near
Their fear still holds in check their lust
though there is nothing left to fear.
The plague died when the people died.
There was no one to pass it on
Natures laws cannot be denied.
The pestilence is long since gone
In time they will re occupy
the empty village and renew
its heart and soul.They will supply
the busy life that once it knew.
But until then the houses wait
for men to overcome their fear.
In time men will appreciate
that they will be most welcome here.
All that it takes is one brave man
to move in and claim for his own.
A house to share with his woman.
Others will follow when they’re shown.
That it is safe to settle here.
Although the houses need repair
and that there is nothing left to fear.
It only needs one man to dare.
21-Aug-07
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Metaphor
You stole my pure intention
You are the sickness in between
Let me in, I'll bury the pain
You taught me to be sad as you
You almost made me take it all
Let me in I'll bury the pain
You bend me and you shake me
You beg me then you break me
Let me in, I'll bury the pain
You made me feel like a sinner
Now you fear you'll die alone
Let me in, I'll bury the pain
The sickness that you are
A plague that made me starve
Do you think you can show me, how I got this far?
(x2)
I feel it's takin over
And everything falls dark
Break me open,
The desperate cry
The sickness that you are
A plague that made me starve
Do you think you can show me, how I got this far?
(x2)
song performed by by In Flames
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Care
Come on, don't do well
where I feed the living hearts
I got a torch to light
Feel these smelter fires burn
Chorus:
I don't care what they say !
I don't care ! I'll do what I want !
I am by your side
tell me you think what to do
No way, I don't fear
Slow down, follow in my grave
Repeat Chorus
Your ways, I despise
Go forth and get with your own kind
We've got fumes to behold
Setting, one size of fortune
Farewell to great friends
these will face the burning sun
tattoed shadows lifted
Fear not, like the burning plague !
Repeat chorus
Bright light the sear his face
Pitfalls twisted
Call me far from now
I survived through all this hell
I DON'T CARE !!!
DON'T CARE !!!!!
I really don't care
song performed by by Obituary
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Please your eye and plague your heart.
quote by William Cobbett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Southern Scourge
The yellow fever was raging,
Down in the sunny south;
And in many of the cities,
There was a death at every house.
This plague a war was raging,
With the lives of people there;
The young and old were stricken down,
And lay in sad despair.
No comfort, all was misery
In many a southern home.
Where once was peace and quietness,
Now in distress are thrown;
For death the house has visited,
And caused the inmates to mourn
The loss of some dear loving friend,
That on earth no more shall roam.
Some people in delirium,
Have wandered from their home;
Have wandered to a vacant house,
And there have died alone,
With no kind friend to care for them,
Or close their dying eyes.
Oh God! in horrid misery
Hundreds of people died.
There were many whole families
Taken down sick in a day;
With no one to care for them,
In death they passed away.
Their spirits arose to God above,
Where sickness is no more;
Where peace and comfort ever reign,
On Heaven's blissful shore.
There is many a southern city
To-day is filled with woe,
And many of the inhabitants
Have wandered to and fro
To nurse the sick and dying --
The dead for the grave prepare.
They tried to do their duty,
With hearts filled with despair.
The Howard Association
Have been doing all they can,
To keep the "plague" from raging
Throughout the southern land;
They nursed the sick, they fed the poor,
They work both night and day,
This brave band in the southern scourge
Heroic courage display.
This noble band of charity
Have went from house to house,
To ease the sad misery of
The sufferers at the south;
Sad scenes of death and suffering
Each day they must endure,
As in the daily rounds they went
Among the afflicted poor.
The noble northern people
Have helped them all they can,
In money, food and clothing
Which they had at their command;
There is many a southern person
That will bless this Howard band,
For their noble deeds of charity
To the sufferers of their land.
poem by Julia A Moore
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