Cyder: Book I
-- -- Honos erit huic quoq; Pomo? Virg.
What Soil the Apple loves, what Care is due
To Orchats, timeliest when to press the Fruits,
Thy Gift, Pomona, in Miltonian Verse
Adventrous I presume to sing; of Verse
Nor skill'd, nor studious: But my Native Soil
Invites me, and the Theme as yet unsung.
Ye Ariconian Knights, and fairest Dames,
To whom propitious Heav'n these Blessings grants,
Attend my Layes; nor hence disdain to learn,
How Nature's Gifts may be improv'd by Art.
And thou, O Mostyn, whose Benevolence,
And Candor, oft experienc'd, Me vouchsaf'd
To knit in Friendship, growing still with Years,
Accept this Pledge of Gratitude and Love.
May it a lasting Monument remain
Of dear Respect; that, when this Body frail
Is moulder'd into Dust, and I become
As I had never been, late Times may know
I once was blest in such a matchless Friend.
Who-e'er expects his lab'ring Trees shou'd bend
With Fruitage, and a kindly Harvest yield,
Be this his first Concern; to find a Tract
Impervious to the Winds, begirt with Hills,
That intercept the Hyperborean Blasts
Tempestuous, and cold Eurus nipping Force,
Noxious to feeble Buds: But to the West
Let him free Entrance grant, let Zephyrs bland
Administer their tepid genial Airs;
Naught fear he from the West, whose gentle Warmth
Discloses well the Earth's all-teeming Womb,
Invigorating tender Seeds; whose Breath
Nurtures the Orange, and the Citron Groves,
Hesperian Fruits, and wafts their Odours sweet
Wide thro' the Air, and distant Shores perfumes.
Nor only do the Hills exclude the Winds:
But, when the blackning Clouds in sprinkling Show'rs
Distill, from the high Summits down the Rain
Runs trickling; with the fertile Moisture chear'd,
The Orchats smile; joyous the Farmers see
Their thriving Plants, and bless the heav'nly Dew.
Next, let the Planter, with Discretion meet,
The Force and Genius of each Soil explore;
To what adapted, what it shuns averse:
Without this necessary Care, in vain
He hopes an Apple-Vintage, and invokes
Pomona's Aid in vain. The miry Fields,
Rejoycing in rich Mold, most ample Fruit
Of beauteous Form produce; pleasing to Sight,
But to the Tongue inelegant and flat.
So Nature has decreed; so, oft we see
Men passing fair, in outward Lineaments
Elaborate; less, inwardly, exact.
Nor from the sable Ground expect Success,
Nor from cretaceous, stubborn and jejune:
The Must, of pallid Hue, declares the Soil
Devoid of Spirit; wretched He, that quaffs
Such wheyish Liquors; oft with Colic Pangs,
With pungent Colic Pangs distress'd, he'll roar,
And toss, and turn, and curse th' unwholsome Draught.
But, Farmer, look, where full-ear'd Sheaves of Rye
Grow wavy on the Tilth, that Soil select
For Apples; thence thy Industry shall gain
Ten-fold Reward; thy Garners, thence with Store
Surcharg'd, shall burst; thy Press with purest Juice
Shall flow, which, in revolving Years, may try
Thy feeble Feet, and bind thy fault'ring Tongue.
Such is the Kentchurch, such Dantzeyan Ground,
Such thine, O learned Brome, and Capel such,
Willisian Burlton, much-lov'd Geers his Marsh,
And Sutton-Acres, drench'd with Regal Blood
Of Ethelbert, when to th' unhallow'd Feast
Of Mercian Offa he invited came,
To treat of Spousals: Long connubial Joys
He promis'd to himself, allur'd by Fair
Elfrida's Beauty; but deluded dy'd
In height of Hopes -- Oh! hardest Fate, to fall
By Shew of Friendship, and pretended Love!
I nor advise, nor reprehend the Choice
Of Marcley-Hill; the Apple no where finds
A kinder Mold: Yet 'tis unsafe to trust
Deceitful Ground: Who knows but that, once more,
This Mount may journey, and, his present Site
Forsaking, to thy Neighbours Bounds transfer
The goodly Plants, affording Matter strange
For Law-Debates? If, therefore, thou incline
To deck this Rise with Fruits of various Tastes,
Fail not by frequent Vows t' implore Success;
Thus piteous Heav'n may fix the wand'ring Glebe.
But if (for Nature doth not share alike
Her Gifts) an happy Soil shou'd be with-held;
If a penurious Clay shou'd be thy Lot,
Or rough unweildy Earth, nor to the Plough,
Nor to the Cattle kind, with sandy Stones
And Gravel o'er-abounding, think it not
Beneath thy Toil; the sturdy Pear-tree here
Will rise luxuriant, and with toughest Root
Pierce the obstructing Grit, and restive Marle.
Thus naught is useless made; nor is there Land,
But what, or of it self, or else compell'd,
Affords Advantage. On the barren Heath
The Shepherd tends his Flock, that daily crop
Their verdant Dinner from the mossie Turf,
Sufficient; after them the Cackling Goose,
Close-grazer, finds wherewith to ease her Want.
What shou'd I more? Ev'n on the cliffy Height
Of Penmenmaur, and that Cloud-piercing Hill,
Plinlimmon, from afar the Traveller kens
Astonish'd, how the Goats their shrubby Brouze
Gnaw pendent; nor untrembling canst thou see,
How from a scraggy Rock, whose Prominence
Half overshades the Ocean, hardy Men,
Fearless of rending Winds, and dashing Waves,
Cut Sampire, to excite the squeamish Gust
Of pamper'd Luxury. Then, let thy Ground
Not lye unlabour'd; if the richest Stem
Refuse to thrive, yet who wou'd doubt to plant
Somewhat, that may to Human Use redound,
And Penury, the worst of Ills, remove?
There are, who, fondly studious of Increase,
Rich Foreign Mold on their ill-natur'd Land
Induce laborious, and with fatning Muck
Besmear the Roots; in vain! the nurseling Grove
Seems fair awhile, cherish'd with foster Earth:
But, when the alien Compost is exhaust,
It's native Poverty again prevails.
Tho' this Art fails, despond not; little Pains,
In a due Hour employ'd, great Profit yield.
Th' Industrious, when the Sun in Leo rides,
And darts his sultriest Beams, portending Drought,
Forgets not at the Foot of ev'ry Plant
To sink a circling Trench, and daily pour
A just Supply of alimental Streams,
Exhausted Sap recruiting; else, false Hopes
He cherishes, nor will his Fruit expect
Th' autumnal Season, but, in Summer's Pride,
When other Orchats smile, abortive fail.
Thus the great Light of Heav'n, that in his Course
Surveys and quickens all things, often proves
Noxious to planted Fields, and often Men
Perceive his Influence dire: sweltring they run
To Grots, and Caves, and the cool Umbrage seek
Of woven Arborets, and oft the Rills
Still streaming fresh revisit, to allay
Thirst inextinguishable: But if the Spring
Preceding shou'd be destitute of Rain,
Or Blast Septentrional with brushing Wings
Sweep up the smoaky Mists, and Vapours damp,
Then wo to Mortals! Titan then exerts
His Heat intense, and on our Vitals preys;
Then Maladies of various Kinds, and Names
Unknown, malignant Fevers, and that Foe
To blooming Beauty, which imprints the Face
Of fairest Nymph, and checks our growing Love,
Reign far and near; grim Death, in different Shapes,
Depopulates the Nations, thousands fall
His Victims, Youths, and Virgins, in their Flower,
Reluctant die, and sighing leave their Loves
Unfinish'd, by infectious Heav'n destroy'd.
Such Heats prevail'd, when fair Eliza, last
Of Winchcomb's Name (next Thee in Blood, and Worth,
O fairest St. John!) left this toilsome World
In Beauty's Prime, and sadden'd all the Year:
Nor cou'd her Virtues, nor repeated Vows
Of thousand Lovers, the relentless Hand
Of Death arrest; She with the Vulgar fell,
Only distinguish'd by this humble Verse.
But if it please the Sun's intemp'rate Force
To know, attend; whilst I of ancient Fame
The Annals trace, and image to thy Mind,
How our Fore-fathers, (luckless Men!) ingulft
By the wide yawning Earth, to Stygian Shades
Went quick, in one sad Sepulchre enclos'd.
In elder Days, e'er yet the Roman Bands
Victorious, this our Other World subdu'd,
A spacious City stood, with firmest Walls
Sure mounded, and with numerous Turrets crown'd,
Aerial Spires, and Citadels, the Seat
Of Kings, and Heroes resolute in War,
Fam'd Ariconium; uncontroul'd, and free,
'Till all-subduing Latian Arms prevail'd.
Then also, tho' to foreign Yoke submiss,
She undemolish'd stood, and even 'till now
Perhaps had stood, of ancient British Art
A pleasing Monument, not less admir'd
Than what from Attic, or Etruscan Hands
Arose; had not the Heav'nly Pow'rs averse
Decreed her final Doom: For now the Fields
Labour'd with Thirst, Aquarius had not shed
His wonted Show'rs, and Sirius parch'd with Heat
Solstitial the green Herb: Hence 'gan relax
The Ground's Contexture, hence Tartarean Dregs,
Sulphur, and nitrous Spume, enkindling fierce,
Bellow'd within their darksom Caves, by far
More dismal than the loud disploded Roar
Of brazen Enginry, that ceaseless storm
The Bastion of a well-built City, deem'd
Impregnable: Th' infernal Winds, 'till now
Closely imprison'd, by Titanian Warmth,
Dilating, and with unctuous Vapours fed,
Disdain'd their narrow Cells; and, their full Strength
Collecting, from beneath the solid Mass
Upheav'd, and all her Castles rooted deep
Shook from their lowest Seat; old Vaga's Stream,
Forc'd by the sudden Shock, her wonted Track
Forsook, and drew her humid Train aslope,
Crankling her Banks: And now the low'ring Sky,
And baleful Lightning, and the Thunder, Voice
Of angry Gods, that rattled solemn, dismaid
The sinking Hearts of Men. Where shou'd they turn
Distress'd? Whence seek for Aid? when from below
Hell threatens, and ev'n Fate supreme gives Signs
Of Wrath and Desolation? Vain were Vows,
And Plaints, and suppliant Hands, to Heav'n erect!
Yet some to Fanes repair'd, and humble Rites
Perform'd to Thor, and Woden, fabled Gods,
Who with their Vot'ries in one Ruin shar'd,
Crush'd, and o'erwhelm'd. Others, in frantick Mood,
Run howling thro' the Streets, their hideous Yells
Rend the dark Welkin; Horror stalks around,
Wild-staring, and, his sad Concomitant,
Despair, of abject Look: At ev'ry Gate
The thronging Populace with hasty Strides
Press furious, and, too eager of Escape,
Obstruct the easie Way; the rocking Town
Supplants their Footsteps; to, and fro, they reel
Astonish'd, as o'er-charg'd with Wine; when lo!
The Ground adust her riven Mouth disparts,
Horrible Chasm, profound! with swift Descent
Old Ariconium sinks, and all her Tribes,
Heroes, and Senators, down to the Realms
Of endless Night. Mean while, the loosen'd Winds
Infuriate, molten Rocks and flaming Globes
Hurl'd high above the Clouds; 'till, all their Force
Consum'd, her rav'nous Jaws th' Earth satiate clos'd.
Thus this fair City fell, of which the Name
Survives alone; nor is there found a Mark,
Whereby the curious Passenger may learn
Her ample Site, save Coins, and mould'ring Urns,
And huge unweildy Bones, lasting Remains
Of that Gigantic Race; which, as he breaks
The clotted Glebe, the Plowman haply finds,
Appall'd. Upon that treacherous Tract of Land,
She whilome stood; now Ceres, in her Prime,
Smiles fertile, and, with ruddiest Freight bedeckt,
The Apple-Tree, by our Fore-fathers Blood
Improv'd, that now recalls the devious Muse,
Urging her destin'd Labours to persue.
The Prudent will observe, what Passions reign
In various Plants (for not to Man alone,
But all the wide Creation, Nature gave
Love, and Aversion): Everlasting Hate
The Vine to Ivy bears, nor less abhors
The Coleworts Rankness; but, with amorous Twine,
Clasps the tall Elm: the Pæstan Rose unfolds
Her Bud, more lovely, near the fetid Leek,
(Crest of stout Britons,) and inhances thence
The Price of her celestial Scent: The Gourd,
And thirsty Cucumer, when they perceive
Th' approaching Olive, with Resentment fly
Her fatty Fibres, and with Tendrils creep
Diverse, detesting Contact; whilst the Fig
Contemns not Rue, nor Sage's humble Leaf,
Close neighbouring: The Herefordian Plant
Caresses freely the contiguous Peach,
Hazel, and weight-resisting Palm, and likes
T' approach the Quince, and th' Elder's pithy Stem;
Uneasie, seated by funereal Yeugh,
Or Walnut, (whose malignant Touch impairs
All generous Fruits), or near the bitter Dews
Of Cherries. Therefore, weigh the Habits well
Of Plants, how they associate best, nor let
Ill Neighbourhood corrupt thy hopeful Graffs.
Wouldst thou, thy Vats with gen'rous Juice should froth?
Respect thy Orchats; think not, that the Trees
Spontaneous will produce an wholsom Draught.
Let Art correct thy Breed; from Parent Bough
A Cyon meetly sever; after, force
A way into the Crabstock's close-wrought Grain
By Wedges, and within the living Wound
Enclose the Foster Twig; nor over-nice
Refuse with thy own Hands around to spread
The binding Clay: Ee'r-long their differing Veins
Unite, and kindly Nourishment convey
To the new Pupil; now he shoots his Arms
With quickest Growth; now shake the teeming Trunc,
Down rain th' impurpl'd Balls, ambrosial Fruit.
Whether the Wilding's Fibres are contriv'd
To draw th' Earth's purest Spirit, and resist
It's Feculence, which in more porous Stocks
Of Cyder-Plants finds Passage free, or else
The native Verjuice of the Crab, deriv'd
Thro' th' infix'd Graff, a grateful Mixture forms
Of tart and sweet; whatever be the Cause,
This doubtful Progeny by nicest Tastes
Expected best Acceptance finds, and pays
Largest Revenues to the Orchat-Lord.
Some think, the Quince and Apple wou'd combine
In happy Union; Others fitter deem
The Sloe-Stem bearing Sylvan Plums austere.
Who knows but Both may thrive? Howe'er, what loss
To try the Pow'rs of Both, and search how far
Two different Natures may concur to mix
In close Embraces, and strange Off-spring bear?
Thoul't find that Plants will frequent Changes try,
Undamag'd, and their marriageable Arms
Conjoin with others. So Silurian Plants
Admit the Peache's odoriferous Globe,
And Pears of sundry Forms; at diff'rent times
Adopted Plums will aliene Branches grace;
And Men have gather'd from the Hawthorn's Branch
Large Medlars, imitating regal Crowns.
Nor is it hard to beautifie each Month
With Files of particolour'd Fruits, that please
The Tongue, and View, at once. So Maro's Muse,
Thrice sacred Muse! commodious Precepts gives
Instructive to the Swains, not wholly bent
On what is gainful: Sometimes she diverts
From solid Counsels, shews the Force of Love
In savage Beasts; how Virgin Face divine
Attracts the hapless Youth thro' Storms, and Waves,
Alone, in deep of Night: Then she describes
The Scythian Winter, nor disdains to sing,
How under Ground the rude Riphæan Race
Mimic brisk Cyder with the Brakes Product wild;
Sloes pounded, Hips, and Servis' harshest Juice.
Let sage Experience teach thee all the Arts
Of Grafting, and In-Eyeing; when to lop
The flowing Branches; what Trees answer best
From Root, or Kernel: She will best the Hours
Of Harvest, and Seed-time declare; by Her
The diff'rent Qualities of things were found,
And secret Motions; how with heavy Bulk
Volatile Hermes, fluid and unmoist,
Mounts on the Wings of Air; to Her we owe
The Indian Weed, unknown to ancient Times,
Nature's choice Gift, whose acrimonious Fume
Extracts superfluous Juices, and refines
The Blood distemper'd from its noxious Salts;
Friend to the Spirits, which with Vapours bland
It gently mitigates, Companion fit
Of Pleasantry, and Wine; nor to the Bards
Unfriendly, when they to the vocal Shell
Warble melodious their well-labour'd Songs.
She found the polish'd Glass, whose small Convex
Enlarges to ten Millions of Degrees
The Mite, invisible else, of Nature's Hand
Least Animal; and shews, what Laws of Life
The Cheese-Inhabitants observe, and how
Fabrick their Mansions in the harden'd Milk,
Wonderful Artists! But the hidden Ways
Of Nature wouldst thou know? how first she frames
All things in Miniature? thy Specular Orb
Apply to well-dissected Kernels; lo!
Strange Forms arise, in each a little Plant
Unfolds its Boughs: observe the slender Threads
Of first-beginning Trees, their Roots, their Leaves,
In narrow Seeds describ'd; Thou'lt wond'ring say,
An inmate Orchat ev'ry Apple boasts.
Thus All things by Experience are display'd,
And Most improv'd. Then sedulously think
To meliorate thy Stock; no Way, or Rule
Be unassay'd; prevent the Morning Star
Assiduous, nor with the Western Sun
Surcease to work; lo! thoughtful of Thy Gain,
Not of my Own, I all the live-long Day
Consume in Meditation deep, recluse
From human Converse, nor, at shut of Eve,
Enjoy Repose; but oft at Midnight Lamp
Ply my brain-racking Studies, if by chance
Thee I may counsel right; and oft this Care
Disturbs me slumbring. Wilt thou then repine
To labour for thy Self? and rather chuse
To lye supinely, hoping, Heav'n will bless
Thy slighted Fruits, and give thee Bread unearn'd?
'Twill profit, when the Stork, sworn-Foe of Snakes,
Returns, to shew Compassion to thy Plants,
Fatigu'd with Breeding. Let the arched Knife
Well sharpen'd now assail the spreading Shades
Of Vegetables, and their thirsty Limbs
Dissever: for the genial Moisture, due
To Apples, otherwise mispends it self
In barren Twigs, and, for th' expected Crop,
Naught but vain Shoots, and empty Leaves abound.
When swelling Buds their od'rous Foliage shed,
And gently harden into Fruit, the Wise
Spare not the little Off-springs, if they grow
Redundant; but the thronging Clusters thin
By kind Avulsion: else, the starv'ling Brood,
Void of sufficient Sustenance, will yield
A slender Autumn; which the niggard Soul
Too late shall weep, and curse his thrifty Hand,
That would not timely ease the pond'rous Boughs.
It much conduces, all the Cares to know
Of Gard'ning, how to scare nocturnal Thieves,
And how the little Race of Birds, that hop
From Spray to Spray, scooping the costliest Fruit
Insatiate, undisturb'd. Priapus' Form
Avails but little; rather guard each Row
With the false Terrors of a breathless Kite.
This done, the timorous Flock with swiftest Wing
Scud thro' the Air; their Fancy represents
His mortal Talons, and his rav'nous Beak
Destructive; glad to shun his hostile Gripe,
They quit their Thefts, and unfrequent the Fields.
Besides, the filthy Swine will oft invade
Thy firm Inclosure, and with delving Snout
The rooted Forest undermine: forthwith
Alloo thy furious Mastiff, bid him vex
The noxious Herd, and print upon their Ears
A sad Memorial of their past Offence.
The flagrant Procyon will not fail to bring
Large Shoals of slow House-bearing Snails, that creep
O'er the ripe Fruitage, paring slimy Tracts
In the sleek Rinds, and unprest Cyder drink.
No Art averts this Pest; on Thee it lyes,
With Morning and with Evening Hand to rid
The preying Reptiles; nor, if wise, wilt thou
Decline this Labour, which it self rewards
With pleasing Gain, whilst the warm Limbec draws
Salubrious Waters from the nocent Brood.
Myriads of Wasps now also clustering hang,
And drain a spurious Honey from thy Groves,
Their Winter Food; tho' oft repulst, again
They rally, undismay'd: but Fraud with ease
Ensnares the noisom Swarms; let ev'ry Bough
Bear frequent Vials, pregnant with the Dregs
Of Moyle, or Mum, or Treacle's viscous Juice;
They, by th' alluring Odor drawn, in haste
Fly to the dulcet Cates, and crouding sip
Their palatable Bane; joyful thou'lt see
The clammy Surface all o'er-strown with Tribes
Of greedy Insects, that with fruitless Toil
Flap filmy Pennons oft, to extricate
Their Feet, in liquid Shackles bound, 'till Death
Bereave them of their worthless Souls: Such doom
Waits Luxury, and lawless Love of Gain!
Howe'er thou maist forbid external Force,
Intestine Evils will prevail; damp Airs,
And rainy Winters, to the Centre pierce
Of firmest Fruits, and by unseen Decay
The proper Relish vitiate: then the Grub
Oft unobserv'd invades the vital Core,
Pernicious Tenant, and her secret Cave
Enlarges hourly, preying on the Pulp
Ceaseless; mean while the Apple's outward Form
Delectable the witless Swain beguiles,
'Till, with a writhen Mouth, and spattering Noise,
He tastes the bitter Morsel, and rejects
Disrelisht; not with less Surprize, then when
Embattled Troops with flowing Banners pass
Thro' flow'ry Meads delighted, nor distrust
The smiling Surface; whilst the cavern'd Ground,
With Grain incentive stor'd, by suddain Blaze
Bursts fatal, and involves the Hopes of War
In firy Whirles; full of victorious Thoughts,
Torn and dismembred, they aloft expire.
Now turn thine Eye to view Alcinous' Groves,
The Pride of the Phæacian Isle, from whence,
Sailing the Spaces of the boundless Deep,
To Ariconium pretious Fruits arriv'd:
The Pippin burnisht o'er with Gold, the Moile
Of sweetest hony'd Taste, the fair Permain,
Temper'd, like comliest Nymph, with red and white.
Salopian Acres flourish with a Growth
Peculiar, styl'd the Ottley: Be thou first
This Apple to transplant; if to the Name
It's Merit answers, no where shalt thou find
A Wine more priz'd, or laudable of Taste.
Nor does the Eliot least deserve thy Care,
Nor John-Apple, whose wither'd Rind, entrencht
With many a Furrow, aptly represents
Decrepid Age; nor that from Harvey nam'd,
Quick-relishing: Why should we sing the Thrift,
Codling, or Pomroy, or of pimpled Coat
The Russet, or the Cats-Head's weighty Orb,
Enormous in its Growth; for various Use
Tho' these are meet, tho' after full repast
Are oft requir'd, and crown the rich Desert?
What, tho' the Pear-Tree rival not the Worth,
Of Ariconian Products? yet her Freight
Is not contemn'd, yet her wide-branching Arms
Best screen thy Mansion from the fervent Dog
Adverse to Life; the wintry Hurricanes
In vain imploy their Roar, her Trunc unmov'd
Breaks the strong Onset, and controls their Rage.
Chiefly the Bosbury, whose large Increase,
Annual, in sumptuous Banquets claims Applause.
Thrice acceptable Bev'rage! could but Art
Subdue the floating Lee, Pomona's self
Would dread thy Praise, and shun the dubious Strife.
Be it thy Choice, when Summer-Heats annoy,
To sit beneath her leafy Canopy,
Quaffing rich Liquids: Oh! how sweet t' enjoy,
At once her Fruits, and hospitable Shade!
But how with equal Numbers shall we match
The Musk's surpassing Worth! that earliest gives
Sure hopes of racy Wine, and in its Youth,
Its tender Nonage, loads the spreading Boughs
With large and juicy Off-spring, that defies
The Vernal Nippings, and cold Syderal Blasts!
Yet let her to the Read-streak yield, that once
Was of the Sylvan Kind, unciviliz'd,
Of no Regard, 'till Scudamore's skilful Hand
Improv'd her, and by courtly Discipline
Taught her the savage Nature to forget:
Hence styl'd the Scudamorean Plant; whose Wine
Who-ever tastes, let him with grateful Heart
Respect that ancient loyal House, and wish
The noble Peer, that now transcends our Hopes
In early Worth, his Country's justest Pride,
Uninterrupted Joy, and Health entire.
Let every Tree in every Garden own
The Red-streak as supream; whose pulpous Fruit
With Gold irradiate, and Vermilian shines
Tempting, not fatal, as the Birth of that
Primæval interdicted Plant, that won
Fond Eve in hapless Hour to taste, and die.
This, of more bounteous Influence, inspires
Poetic Raptures, and the lowly Muse
Kindles to loftier Strains; even I perceive
Her sacred Virtue. See! the Numbers flow
Easie, whilst, chear'd with her nectareous Juice,
Hers, and my Country's Praises I exalt.
Hail Herefordian Plant, that dost disdain
All other Fields! Heav'n's sweetest Blessing, hail!
Be thou the copious Matter of my Song,
And Thy choice Nectar; on which always waits
Laughter, and Sport, and care-beguiling Wit,
And Friendship, chief Delight of Human Life.
What shou'd we wish for more? or why, in quest
Of Foreign Vintage, insincere, and mixt,
Traverse th' extreamest World? Why tempt the Rage
Of the rough Ocean? when our native Glebe
Imparts, from bounteous Womb, annual Recruits
Of Wine delectable, that far surmounts
Gallic, or Latin Grapes, or those that see
The setting Sun near Calpe's tow'ring Height.
Nor let the Rhodian, nor the Lesbian Vines
Vaunt their rich Must, nor let Tokay contend
For Sov'ranty; Phanæus self must bow
To th' Ariconian Vales: And shall we doubt
T' improve our vegetable Wealth, or let
The Soil lye idle, which, with fit Manure,
Will largest Usury repay, alone
Impower'd to supply what Nature asks
Frugal, or what nice Appetite requires?
The Meadows here, with bat'ning Ooze enrich'd,
Give Spirit to the Grass; three Cubits high
The jointed Herbage shoots; th' unfallow'd Glebe
Yearly o'ercomes the Granaries with Store
Of Golden Wheat, the Strength of Human Life.
Lo, on auxiliary Poles, the Hops
Ascending spiral, rang'd in meet Array!
Lo, how the Arable with Barley-Grain
Stands thick, o'er-shadow'd, to the thirsty Hind
Transporting Prospect! These, as modern Use
Ordains, infus'd, an Auburn Drink compose,
Wholesome, of deathless Fame. Here, to the Sight,
Apples of Price, and plenteous Sheaves of Corn,
Oft interlac'd occurr, and both imbibe
Fitting congenial Juice; so rich the Soil,
So much does fructuous Moisture o'er-abound!
Nor are the Hills unamiable, whose Tops
To Heav'n aspire, affording Prospect sweet
To Human Ken; nor at their Feet the Vales
Descending gently, where the lowing Herd
Chews verd'rous Pasture; nor the yellow Fields
Gaily' enterchang'd, with rich Variety
Pleasing, as when an Emerald green, enchas'd
In flamy Gold, from the bright Mass acquires
A nobler Hue, more delicate to Sight.
Next add the Sylvan Shades, and silent Groves,
(Haunt of the Druids) whence the Hearth is fed
With copious Fuel; whence the sturdy Oak,
A Prince's Refuge once, th' æternal Guard
Of England's Throne, by sweating Peasants fell'd,
Stems the vast Main, and bears tremendous War
To distant Nations, or with Sov'ran Sway
Aws the divided World to Peace and Love.
Why shou'd the Chalybes, or Bilboa boast
Their harden'd Iron; when our Mines produce
As perfect Martial Ore? Can Tmolus' Head
Vie with our Safron Odours? Or the Fleece
Bætic, or finest Tarentine, compare
With Lemster's silken Wool? Where shall we find
Men more undaunted, for their Country's Weal
More prodigal of Life? In ancient Days,
The Roman Legions, and great Cæsar found
Our Fathers no mean Foes: And Cressy Plains,
And Agincourt, deep-ting'd with Blood, confess
What the Silures Vigour unwithstood
Cou'd do in rigid Fight; and chiefly what
Brydges' wide-wasting Hand, first Garter'd Knight,
Puissant Author of great Chandois' Stemm,
High Chandois, that transmits Paternal Worth,
Prudence, and ancient Prowess, and Renown,
T' his Noble Off-spring. O thrice happy Peer!
That, blest with hoary Vigour, view'st Thy self
Fresh blooming in Thy Generous Son; whose Lips,
Flowing with nervous Eloquence exact,
Charm the wise Senate, and Attention win
In deepest Councils: Ariconium pleas'd,
Him, as her chosen Worthy, first salutes.
Him on th' Iberian, on the Gallic Shore,
Him hardy Britons bless; His faithful Hand
Conveys new Courage from afar, nor more
The General's Conduct, than His Care avails.
Thee also, Glorious Branch of Cecil's Line,
This Country claims; with Pride and Joy to Thee
Thy Alterennis calls: yet she endures
Patient Thy Absence, since Thy prudent Choice
Has fix'd Thee in the Muse's fairest Seat,
Where Aldrich reigns, and from his endless Store
Of universal Knowledge still supplies
His noble Care; He generous Thoughts instills
Of true Nobility, their Country's Love,
(Chief End of Life) and forms their ductile Minds
To Human Virtues: By His Genius led,
Thou soon in every Art preeminent
Shalt grace this Isle, and rise to Burleigh's Fame.
Hail high-born Peer! And Thou, great Nurse of Arts,
And Men, from whence conspicuous Patriots spring,
Hanmer, and Bromley; Thou, to whom with due
Respect Wintonia bows, and joyful owns
Thy mitred Off-spring; be for ever blest
With like Examples, and to future Times
Proficuous, such a Race of Men produce,
As, in the Cause of Virtue firm, may fix
Her Throne inviolate. Hear, ye Gods, this Vow
From One, the meanest in her numerous Train;
Tho' meanest, not least studious of her Praise.
Muse, raise thy Voice to Beaufort's spotless Fame,
To Beaufort, in a long Descent deriv'd
From Royal Ancestry, of Kingly Rights
Faithful Asserters: In Him centring meet
Their glorious Virtues, high Desert from Pride
Disjoin'd, unshaken Honour, and Contempt
Of strong Allurements. O Illustrious Prince!
O Thou of ancient Faith! Exulting, Thee,
In her fair List this happy Land inrolls.
Who can refuse a Tributary Verse
To Weymouth, firmest Friend of slighted Worth
In evil Days? whose hospitable Gate,
Unbarr'd to All, invites a numerous Train
Of daily Guests; whose Board, with Plenty crown'd,
Revives the Feast-rites old: Mean while His Care
Forgets not the afflicted, but content
In Acts of secret Goodness, shuns the Praise,
That sure attends. Permit me, bounteous Lord,
To blazon what tho' hid will beauteous shine;
And with Thy Name to dignifie my Song.
But who is He, that on the winding Stream
Of Vaga first drew vital Breath, and now
Approv'd in Anna's secret Councils sits,
Weighing the Sum of Things, with wise Forecast
Sollicitous of public Good? How large
His Mind, that comprehends what-e'er was known
To Old, or Present Time; yet not elate,
Not conscious of its Skill? What Praise deserves
His liberal Hand, that gathers but to give,
Preventing Suit? O not unthankful Muse,
Him lowly reverence, that first deign'd to hear
Thy Pipe, and skreen'd thee from opprobrious Tongues.
Acknowledge thy Own Harley, and his Name
Inscribe on ev'ry Bark; the wounded Plants
Will fast increase, faster thy just Respect.
Such are our Heroes, by their Virtues known,
Or Skill in Peace, and War: Of softer Mold
The Female Sex, with sweet attractive Airs
Subdue obdurate Hearts. The Travellers oft,
That view their matchless Forms with transient Glance,
Catch suddain Love, and sigh for Nymphs unknown,
Smit with the Magic of their Eyes: nor hath
The Dædal Hand of Nature only pour'd
Her Gifts of outward Grace; their Innocence
Unfeign'd, and Virtue most engaging, free
From Pride, or Artifice, long Joys afford
To th' honest Nuptial Bed, and in the Wane
Of Life, rebate the Miseries of Age.
And is there found a Wretch, so base of Mind,
That Woman's pow'rful Beauty dares condemn,
Exactest Work of Heav'n? He ill deserves
Or Love, or Pity; friendless let him see
Uneasie, tedious Days, despis'd, forlorn,
As Stain of Human Race: But may the Man,
That chearfully recounts the Females Praise
Find equal Love, and Love's untainted Sweets
Enjoy with Honour. O, ye Gods! might I
Elect my Fate, my happiest Choice should be
A fair, and modest Virgin, that invites
With Aspect chast, forbidding loose Desire,
Tenderly smiling; in whose Heav'nly Eye
Sits purest Love enthron'd: But if the Stars
Malignant, these my better Hopes oppose,
May I, at least, the sacred Pleasures know
Of strictest Amity; nor ever want
A Friend, with whom I mutually may share
Gladness, and Anguish, by kind Intercourse
Of Speech, and Offices. May in my Mind,
Indelible a grateful Sense remain
Of Favours undeserv'd! -- O Thou! from whom
Gladly both Rich, and Low seek Aid; most Wise
Interpreter of Right, whose gracious Voice
Breaths Equity, and curbs too rigid Law
With mild, impartial Reason; what Returns
Of Thanks are due to Thy Beneficence
Freely vouchsaft, when to the Gates of Death
I tended prone? If Thy indulgent Care
Had not preven'd, among unbody'd Shades
I now had wander'd; and these empty Thoughts
Of Apples perish'd: But, uprais'd by Thee,
I tune my Pipe afresh, each Night, and Day
Thy unexampled Goodness to extoll
Desirous; but nor Night, nor Day suffice
For that great Task; the highly Honour'd Name
Of Trevor must employ my willing Thoughts
Incessant, dwell for ever on my Tongue.
Let me be grateful, but let far from me
Be fawning Cringe, and false dissembling Look,
And servile Flattery, that harbours oft
In Courts, and gilded Roofs. Some loose the Bands
Of ancient Friendship, cancell Nature's Laws
For Pageantry, and tawdy Gugaws. Some
Renounce their Sires, oppose paternal Right
For Rule, and Power; and other's Realms invade,
With specious Shews of Love. This traiterous Wretch
Betrays his Sov'ran. Others, destitute
Of real Zeal, to ev'ry Altar bend,
By Lucre sway'd, and act the basest Things
To be styl'd Honourable: Th' Honest Man,
Simple of Heart, prefers inglorious Want
To ill-got Wealth; rather from Door to Door
A jocund Pilgrim, tho' distress'd, he' ll rove,
Than break his plighted Faith; nor Fear, nor Hope,
Will shock his stedfast Soul; rather debar'd
Each common Privilege, cut off from Hopes
Of meanest Gain, of present Goods despoil'd,
He'll bear the Marks of Infamy, contemn'd,
Unpity'd; yet his Mind, of Evil pure,
Supports him, and Intention free from Fraud.
If no Retinue with observant Eyes
Attend him, if he can't with Purple stain
Of cumbrous Vestments, labour'd o'er with Gold,
Dazle the Croud, and set them all agape;
Yet clad in homely Weeds, from Envy's Darts
Remote he lives, nor knows the nightly Pangs
Of Conscience, nor with Spectre's grisly Forms,
Dæmons, and injur'd Souls, at Close of Day
Annoy'd, sad interrupted Slumbers finds.
But (as a Child, whose inexperienc'd Age
Nor evil Purpose fears, nor knows,) enjoys
Night's sweet Refreshment, humid Sleep, sincere.
When Chaunticleer, with Clarion shrill, recalls
The tardy Day, he to his Labours hies
Gladsome, intent on somewhat that may ease
Unhealthy Mortals, and with curious Search
Examines all the Properties of Herbs,
Fossils, and Minerals, that th' embowell'd Earth
Displays, if by his Industry he can
Benefit Human Race: Or else his Thoughts
Are exercis'd with Speculations deep
Of Good, and Just, and Meet, and th' wholsome Rules
Of Temperance, and aught that may improve
The moral Life; not sedulous to rail,
Nor with envenom'd Tongue to blast the Fame
Of harmless Men, or secret Whispers spread,
'Mong faithful Friends, to breed Distrust, and Hate.
Studious of Virtue, he no Life observes
Except his own, his own employs his Cares,
Large Subject! that he labours to refine
Daily, nor of his little Stock denies
Fit Alms to Lazars, merciful, and meek.
Thus sacred Virgil liv'd, from courtly Vice,
And Baits of pompous Rome secure; at Court
Still thoughtful of the rural honest Life,
And how t' improve his Grounds, and how himself:
Best Poet! fit Exemplar for the Tribe
Of Phœbus, nor less fit Mæonides,
Poor eyeless Pilgrim! and if after these,
If after these another I may name,
Thus tender Spencer liv'd, with mean Repast
Content, depress'd by Penury, and Pine
In foreign Realm: Yet not debas'd his Verse
By Fortune's Frowns. And had that Other Bard,
Oh, had but He that first ennobled Song
With holy Raptures, like his Abdiel been,
'Mong many faithless, strictly faithful found;
Unpity'd, he should not have wail'd his Orbs,
That roll'd in vain to find the piercing Ray,
And found no Dawn, by dim Suffusion veil'd!
But He -- However, let the Muse abstain,
Nor blast his Fame, from whom she learnt to sing
In much inferior Strains, grov'ling beneath
Th' Olympian Hill, on Plains, and Vales intent,
Mean Follower. There let her rest a-while,
Pleas'd with the fragrant Walks, and cool Retreat.
poem by John Arthur Phillips
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Finest Gift
Verse one
She can shop all over town, turn the gift
Shops upside down
Finding something for her man with everything
But its right behind her eyes and no matter what she buys
Shell always be the finest gift she brings
Chorus
Every year its never missed, should be at
The top of every list
It can never be outdone,its the perfect
Gift for everyone
Verse two
Its in everything youll see scattered
Underneath our tree
You can hear it in the carols that we sing
Its the heart of loves design and it
Appreciates with time
And shell always be the finest gift she brings
(repeat chorus)
Verse three
Now its not in any store and she could
Never give me more
Then her promise of the finest gift she brings
I know her loves the finest gift she brings
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pomona I Remember You.
Pomona,
Your persona
Lost
In the orchards of time.
Kisses of lemon and lime
Fizz in summertime.
Your sun
Beams
Strawberrys and creams.
My Desdimona
Steams
In jealousy.
I know Pomona,
She will leave me
With love
From the vine.
Pomona
That forbidden apple
Of mine.
Goddess true.
Sings through the trees.
Clings to the breeze.
With citrus hue.
Sweeter than
Morning dew.
Kevin East.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Narcisissma
Narcisissma, Narcisissma is the pride of Pomona,
Pomona, Pomona says she looks like me.
But she will look like you when I'm set free.
Narcisissma, Narcisissma is the belle of Biloxi,
Biloxi, Biloxi says she's not your kind
But Narcisissma gives me peace of mind.
She's got no braids in the inkwell, no money on the prize.
Ain't got no boyfriend behind her that she can't hypnotize.
And if you wanna see yourself without delusions or delies.
All you do is just look into her eyes.
Narcisissma, Narcisissma has no pride or delusions,
Delusions, delusions make me turn my face
But Narcisissma let's me find my place.
She's got no grudges, no crutches, no pigment and no peeves.
No cryers, no pliers, no liars and no sleeves.
And she will always tell you every thing that she believes.
She's got no belly button too, no high heeled shoe.
Narcisissma, Narcisissma is the pride of Pomona,
Pomona, Pomona says she looks like me.
But she will look like you when I'm set free.
Well everybody's lookin' like they're s'posed to
But nobody's lookin' very good.
So when you find somebody to get close to
Well don't you think you should?
Narcisissma, Narcisissma loves to thrill and delight me,
Delight me, delight me and I'll never quit
'Cause Narcisissma knows just where I fit.
She's got no tight draws, locked doors, nothin' on the side.
Ain't got no skin flaws, in-laws, nothin' left to hide.
And if you need a new location where you'll best be satisfied
You might prefer, to fall in love with her
Narcisissma, Narcisissma is the pride of Pomona,
Pomona, says she looks like me.
But she will look like you when I'm set free.-a
song performed by by Don McLean
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our seed of love
If like an apple, ours is meant to be
That a little bite more, a little us less
Then let us as gentle as we can be
Take each bite even as we regress
Till we eat deep into our love's flesh
And nothing more in us to bless
For apple season must come and go
Such path all things must flow
But an apple has many seeds
A little soil and a little moist it needs
Sunshine and a little kiss of life
To give green to its tiny leaf
Pray as we swallow that final part
Ours will grow again in the fertile soil of our heart! !
poem by Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Finest Gift
verse one
She can shop all over town, turn the gift
Shops upside down
Finding something for her man with everything
But it's right behind her eyes and no matter what she buys
She'll always be the finest gift she brings
Chorus
Every year it's never missed, should be at
The top of every list
It can never be outdone,it's the perfect
Gift for everyone
Verse two
It's in everything you'll see scattered
Underneath our tree
You can hear it in the carols that we sing
It's the heart of love's design and it
Appreciates with time
And she'll always be the finest gift she brings
(repeat chorus)
Verse three
Now it's not in any store and she could
Never give me more
Then her promise of the finest gift she brings
I know her love's the finest gift she brings
song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Red Apple, Red Apple
Red apple
Red apple
sitting on the ledge
savouring its nutrients
for a few moments longer
Red apple
Red apple
Savouring its time
That is has left
As a whole
Red apple
Red apple
Traveled such a
Long way, from the store?
Farm? another country?
Red apple
Red apple
Haunting me by
The curiosity of
How juicy you taste
Red apple
Red apple
Shine on,
Red apple
poem by John McAdam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Gift Freely Given
Verse 1:
Our Lord in His mercy gave up His own Son.
He gave us the promise that heaven is won.
Of what did He ask; for Christ resurrection?
Except we follow His word without question.
Refrain:
The gift freely given was paid at a price.
The cost was God’s innocent Son’s perfect life.
E’en though it is over; the death of God’s Son,
The gift has been given, the victory won.
Verse 2:
The sin of this world came through Adam and Eve,
And left through our Savior in whom we believe.
Our sins are on him; through his life’s perfection,
And ever shall be through his resurrection.
Refrain:
The gift freely given was paid at a price.
The cost was God’s innocent Son’s perfect life.
E’en though it is over; the death of God’s Son,
The gift has been given, the victory won.
Verse 3:
The Lord in his glory looks down from above,
And sees His church filled with the people He loves,
We still live in sin; our lives are in pieces,
Yet His perfect love for us ne’er decreases.
Refrain:
The gift freely given was paid at a price.
The cost was God’s innocent Son’s perfect life.
E’en though it is over; the death of God’s Son,
The gift has been given, the victory won.
Love That Dog
Love that dog
like a flower loves the soil
i said i love that dog
like a fower loves the soil
and i love to call my dog
'Hey there max'
while he wags his tail.
I SAID I LOVE THAT DOG,
LIKE A FLOWER LOVES SOIL!
(inspired by Mr myres in the book 'lov that dog')
poem by Laura Venter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why still I love you!
A very mysterious, a very miraculous
A Very high and very deep
A Very wide and very charming
A Very holy and very hidden
Pulling my dream my hope
My desires my courage
My likes, my eyes, my mind
My lungs, my blood
My hands and my feet
My soul and my heart
The every part
The whole universe
And attracted towards
You the curious
The fantabulous
The gift
The bliss
The secret essence of life
The sweet
The delicious
The delicate
The means
The meaning
The driving force
The revolving center
The wonder
The surprise
Do you feel the same?
If yes,
Then we are in love
As the moon loves the sun
As the sky loves the ground
As the winds loves the cloud
As the river loves the ocean
If you not, I don't care
As I love the butterflies
The trees
The leaves
The flowers
The fruits
The air
The water
The nature
The whole universe
And they do feel the same
So I am alive
You are the part of
And the bees
Of all these
If they sting
I don't care
As I love myself
More wide than the sky
More deep than the ocean
More high than the hills
The life is very baffling
I feel uneasy
I am in jittery
I cant eat
I cant sleep
I am very angry
Not because
You don't love me
Because why still I love you!
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Diving Into The Lovers Mind
To the one who loves in every way
As a gift from the one above
Good tidings turn into a perfection
After so many rejections
The heart still beats
The lungs still breaths
The body still moves
And the mind hunger for answers
Sometimes the simplest will do
A golden apple hangs from the gaia tree in all its fairness
It complexion draws all but only one can be the right to pluck it
The question isn't does the apple exist, but when will you find it
Can you wait till the end of time?
Or will second best do?
Diving into the lovers mind
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Kingship
I am a king and i have no servants,
I rule alone and i have no anger;
But my land is full of aromantic apple trees.
I go round daily around the apple trees and,
I say hello to the beauty around them;
I taste the ripen apple fruits like,
A sweet romance in a lovely garden.
Attractive as they are,
They are my only companoions!
For my Kingship is for these sweet apples.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Eatting Fruits
Eat fruits
Eat...
Every day...
Each
Break fast...
Lunch...
Dinner...
Eat...
Fruits...
Fruits is
Good for health...
Fruits is
Good for Taste
Fruits is
Good for mind...
Fruits is
Good for god...
So...
Fruits is
Good for hole and
Hoe body...
Any fruits...
Any time...
Eat eat eat...
Avoide all all
Disease...
Thats all...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God cares for all Creatures
The guava sapling planted has grown big;
The tree is laden with ripe fruits many;
How many can I pluck or eat each day?
Lie fruits unseen at heights, I cannot reach.
I see the parrots enjoy tasty fruits;
I see the squirrels gnaw the fine ripe ones;
I see bats with voracious appetites;
And many more fall down by force of winds.
God fills the tree with fruits for each season;
Man cannot eat all fruits the tree can bear;
God feeds each bird of the air with care;
He made them all and that’s the chief reason.
When God can feed His other creatures well,
So many human beings starve to death;
Oh, what a man-made tragedy, we see,
As tons of food goes rotten every day!
God loves all human beings even more
Than all His other creatures whom He made;
Both food and drink turn scarce by acts of men;
Why blame God for our misdemeanor, then?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-3-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There are some people that the press like to pick on and not just the gay press, but the press in general. And some people, the press just doesn't care about at all.
quote by Nathan Lane
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Loves Ya Baby?
Verse 1:
Busy life, not enough time
To look in the mirror
Life in the fast lane...
Look around and take note
Who really loves you?
Dont get caught up in the clouds
Or youll go insane
When it seems everyone is needing something
Remember whos always been there for you
Chorus:
Who loves ya baby?
Who really loves ya baby?
Whos always been on your side morning and night?
Who loves ya baby?
Who really loves ya baby?
Whos gonna see to it that
Youre treated right?
Verse 2:
Just a smile is alright
Dont owe me anything
Come escape with me...[laugh]
You have got the world at your feet
Thats not always easy
All those people caring,
Yet youre still alone
I understand whats behind the feelings
I think I know you better than anyone (anyone)
Chorus
Bridge:
I believe in you...yes!
You believe in me too
Dont ever get swept away by something not real
cause the way I feel...
Oh I will always feel that way
Chorus
Who loves ya baby?
Chorus
Oh, who loves ya baby?
Who really loves you, loves you baby?
Oo yeah! (morning and night)
I say, who, who, who (who loves ya baby? )
Who loves ya baby? (who really loves you baby? )
Who, who, who (youre treated right)
Who loves ya baby? yeah! (who loves ya baby? )
Oo yeah! (who really loves you baby? )
Whos always been on your side morning and night?
Who loves ya baby?
Who really loves you baby?
Whos gonna see to it that youre treated right?
Oh, who loves ya baby?
Who has loved you baby?
Ive always been on your side (morning and night)
Say, who loves ya baby?
Who really loves you, loves you baby?
(youre treated right)
Who loves ya baby?
(who really loves you baby? ) who loves ya baby?
Who loves ya baby?
Yeah, yeah, yeah...(morning and night)
Who...
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jackass
To know you is to hate you
So loving you must be like suicide
Well I don't mind if you don't mind
I'm not the one that's going to die
I guess I just can't listen
To this one sided conversation again
Cause I don't care if I don't care
Well no one ever said that life is fair
Well everybody loves a joke
But no one likes a fool
And you're always cracking the same old lines again
You're well rehearsed on every verse
And that was stated clear
But no one understands your verity
The center of attention
Got an honorable mention once again
Congratulations and salutations
You're figment of your own imagination
Well everybody loves a joke
But no one likes a fool
And you're always cracking the same old lines again
You're well rehearsed on every verse
And that was stated clear
But no one understands your verity
Hey
To know you is to bait you
And you fell victim to your own denial
Well I don't mind if you don't mind
You're wasting all your time
song performed by by Green Day from Warning
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Joyce
The poesy inspiration to her comes easily
The poetess from Sunderland by the Atlantic sea
Sharing with the universe her great gift of joy
She will live forever her sort never die.
In February in England the morning fields are gray
But her poems fresh and lovely as the first flowers of May
And though the flowers of Summer will be long gone by Fall
Joyce's poems will live on and verse lovers will recall
How she make many happy with her gift of song
Her verses light and breezy they just float along
Like a windblown feather in the Summer air
Floating in the heaven's free of any care.
She's one in a billion people like her rare
Joyce Hemsley from Sunderland her great gift of poetry share
With all lovers of poetry, she's known far and wide
Greatness of the lady cannot be denied.
She has written so much verse and all of her verse is good
Quite uncomplicated and easily understood
And to her inspiration comes quite easily
The poetess from Sunderland by the Atlantic sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How Does It Feel
I know that youre out there
Knowing that theres someone out here thinkin of you
In your heart and in your mind
I know there is no doubt that someone loves you
And I know that you know
That Ill be waiting here when you have need of me
And when the world has chained you down
I know you know my love will set you free
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
How does it feel to know that someones always thinkin of you
Oh and how does it feel to know that someone puts no one above you
How does it feel to know that someone loves you, someone loves you
I have come to know and love you
Like Ive never known or loved another
Words have not been made
That could describe these feelings we have for each other
And I would go to any length
To let you know at all times that I care
cause I want you to know
That any time you reach for me youll find me there
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
How does it feel to know that someones always thinkin of you
Oh and how does it feel to know that someone puts no one above you
How does it feel to know that someone loves you, someone loves you
Someone loves you, how does it feel to know it
Someone loves you, how does it feel to know that someone
Loves you, someone loves you, how does it feel, how does it feel
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
Somebody loves you, how does it feel, how does it feel
How does it feel to know that someone loves you
Someone loves you, somebody loves you
Somebody loves you, how does it feel to know it
Somebody loves you
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Araby
(the reivers)
It is worth the admission
Oh my love fogs up the glass
I look on, in a window
Oh my love fogs up the glass.
On rainy days I wonder whats behind the veil
And I feel your breath upon my mouth,
And I press my heart into your hand,
Its my gift from araby.
We can move and be trusted,
But what is it that you want?
It is not what they think,
Yeah what is it that you want?
They look down on me and they smile forever,
But I know that love will kill that pride
And I press my heart into your hand
Its my gift from araby.
Listen to what youre saying,
You know nothing of my love,
And if it all comes down to what you say
You know nothing of my love.
And looking up into the dark I find it there,
And I feel my breath upon my mouth,
And I press my heart into your hand
Its my gift from araby.
song performed by by Hootie & The Blowfish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Salute You Gallant Sons And Daughters Of The Soil
Gallant sons and daughters of the soil, hail heros, we salute you
for the tremendous and outrageous job you did in restoration of the lost glory and hope, FREEDOM...
We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil for putting
your lives at risk and the sacrifise
you made in restoring our legacy,
from our fore fathers.
We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soils, today we
are enjoying the fruits of your sacrifise and dedication of your
lives just to restore the legacy
heritage and freedom which we
enjoy today....
Freedom was born out of bloodshed of the gallant sons and daughters of the soil, freedom was
born out of the armed struggle, we
salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil..
We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil, thank you
for restoring the glory, heritage
and legacy which had been robbed from us! !
Hail gallant sons and daughters
of the soil, they exchanged freedom with the blood which
the spilt in the process of restoring the lost prestige and glory, heritage..
We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil for breaking
down the iron york from our necks granting us solace, you did
all this out of love and loyalty.
We salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil for the enduarance, dedication you made
in bringing freedom and the lost
heritage, through the wire and many challenges you met, but you
risked your lives to bring freedom..
Today we enjoy the fruits of the
armed struggle which brought freedom, revolution completed
its course we are enjoying the fruits of the armed struggle
we salute you gallant sons and daughters of the soil may your
soul rest in peace
dedication to the gallant sons and
daughters of the soil of zimbabwe who lost their lives in the process of fighting for freedom..
poem by Donald Kuutsi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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