Sonnet 10
X
Daughter to that good Earl, once President
Of Englands Counsel, and her Treasury,
Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till the sad breaking of that Parlament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty
Kil'd with report that Old man eloquent,
Though later born, then to have known the dayes
Wherin your Father flourisht, yet by you
Madam, me thinks I see him living yet;
So well your words his noble vertues praise,
That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to possess them, Honour'd Margaret.
Note: Camb. autograph supplies title, To the Lady Margaret
Ley.
poem by John Milton
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Related quotes
Sonnet X: Daughter to that good Earl
To the Lady Margaret Ley
Daughter to that good Earl, once President
Of England's Council, and her Treasury,
Who lived in both, unstained with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till sad the breaking of that Parliament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty,
Killed with report that old man eloquent.
Though later born than to have known the days
Wherein your father flourished, yet by you,
Madam, methinks I see him living yet;
So well your words his noble virtues praise,
That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to possess them, honoured Margaret.
poem by John Milton
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To the Lady Margaret Ley
Daughter to that good Earl, one President
Of England’s Council and her Treasury,
Who lived in both unstained with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till the sad breaking of that Parliament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chæronea, fatal to liberty,
Killed with report that old man eloquent,
Though later born than to have known the days
Wherein your father flourished, yet by you,
Madam, methinks I see him living yet:
So well your words his noble virtues praise
That all both judge you to relate them true
And to possess them, honoured Margaret.
poem by John Milton
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Sonnet 11
XI
A Book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon;
And wov'n close, both matter, form and stile;
The Subject new: it walk'd the Town a while,
Numbring good intellects; now seldom por'd on.
Cries the stall-reader, bless us! what a word on
A title page is this! and some in file
Stand spelling fals, while one might walk to Mile-
End Green. Why is it harder Sirs then Gordon,
Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?
Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek
That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.
Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,
Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Asp;
When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward Greek.
Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Detraction which
followed my writing certain Treatises.
poem by John Milton
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Sonnet 14
XIV
When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load
Of Death, call'd Life; which us from Life doth sever
Thy Works and Alms and all thy good Endeavour
Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod;
But as Faith pointed with her golden rod,
Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.
Love led them on, and Faith who knew them best
Thy hand-maids, clad them o're with purple beams
And azure wings, that up they flew so drest,
And speak the truth of thee on glorious Theams
Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.
Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Religious
Memory of Catherine Thomson, my Christian Friend, deceased
16 Decemb., 1646.
poem by John Milton
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Amy Margaret's Five Year Old
Amy Margaret's five years old,
Amy Margaret's hair is gold,
Dearer twenty-thousand-fold
Than gold, is Amy Margaret.
"Amy" is friend, is "Margaret"
The pearl for crown or carkanet?
Or peeping daisy, summer's pet?
Which are you, Amy Margaret?
A friend, a daisy, and a pearl,
A kindly, simple, precious girl, --
Such, howsoe'er the world may twirl,
Be ever, -- Amy Margaret!
poem by William Allingham
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Sonnet 08
VIII
Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms,
Whose chance on these defenceless dores may sease,
If ever deed of honour did thee please,
Guard them, and him within protect from harms,
He can requite thee, for he knows the charms
That call Fame on such gentle acts as these,
And he can spred thy Name o're Lands and Seas,
What ever clime the Suns bright circle warms.
Lift not thy spear against the Muses Bowre,
The great Emathian Conqueror bid spare
The house of Pindarus, when Temple and Towre
Went to the ground: And the repeated air
Of sad Electra's Poet had the power
To save th' Athenian Walls from ruine bare.
Notes:
Camb. autograph supplies title, When the assault was intended
to the city.
3 If deed of honour did thee ever please, 1673.
poem by John Milton
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A Flashback Reaction
When father and daughter had words
contracting muscles in my face
felt like worms crawling
under my skin
Daughter conceded, father was right,
muscles relaxed, back to normal,
a flashback reaction
to early youth
When I held my fingers in my ears
as mother and father conversed
in angry words, grating
on my nerves…
poem by Margaret Alice
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Dear Margaret
Dear margaret I beg of you
Dear margaret gonna tell on you
Dont want to be patronized
By those lying eyes
Dear margaret I wanted you
Youre warming me up
So you can leave me cold
Kissin up to the rich
Intending to control
All the money money money
Is that all you live for
Youre a model and example
Of a greed that will destroy
Dear margaret I beg of you
Dont you like rock n roll
Dear margaret gonna tell on you
I like your wiggle when you walk
Dear margaret I trusted you
Dont you let me down
Dear margaret I wanted you
You had me living the illusion
To be a millionaire
Investing in stocks
Look at you now stringin other guys along
Youre into swinging
Now the money is all gone
Dear margaret I beg of you
Dont you like rock n roll
Dear margaret I trusted you
Your economic growth
And your cool suntan
But what have you done to your fellow man
Youve betrated us all with just a
Wave of your hand
What good is prosperity
When it starves the soul in man
Dear margaret I beg of you
Dont you like rock n roll
Dear margaret gonna tell on you
I like your wiggle when you walk
Dont want to be patronized
By those lying eyes
Dear margaret I trusted you
Dont you let me down
Dear margaret I wanted you
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not because they were servants were we so reserved, for many noble persons are forced to serve through necessity, but by reason the vulgar sort of servants are as ill bred as meanly born, giving children ill examples and worse counsel.
quote by Margaret Cavendish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When Margaret Comes To Town
When you were a kid you recieved no good instruction
And your mother was never nowhere to be found
This lies were yelled and the truth was seldom spoken
Thats what you get when margaret comes to town
She likes to keep things upside down
When margaret comes to town
When your thoughts are twisted and distorted
And your children are forced to choose sides and lie down
And the kepper is screaming drunk running around naked
Its for your pleasure when margaret comes to town
She likes to keep things upside down
When margaret comes to town
Oh, but those who believe in her
They cut off their noses to spite their faces
Leaving you the little one scared and lonely
Who really cares about you now
So if you see her coming man youd bettertake cover
She stays down at the dark end of a frown
And just like the sirens that are so sweet singing
Its better just to leave when margaret comes to town
When margaret comes to town
She likes to keep things upside down
When margaret comes to town
She likes to keep things upside down
When margaret comes to town
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jephthah Judge of Israel
Have you not heard these many years ago,
Jeptha was judge of Israel?
He had one only daughter and no mo,
The which he loved passing well.
And as by lott,
God wot,
It so came to pass,
As Gods will was,
That great wars there should be,
And none should be chosen chief but he.
And when he was appointed judge,
And chieftain of the company,
A solemn vow to God he made,
If he returned with victory,
At his return,
To burn
The first live thing,
****
That should meet with him then,
Off his house when he should return agen.
It came to pass, the wars was o'er,
And he returned with victory;
His dear and only daughter first of all
Came to meet her father foremostly:
And all the way
She did play
On tabret and pipe,
Full many a stripe,
With note so high,
For joy that her father is come so nigh.
But when he saw his daughter dear
Coming on most foremostly,
He wrung his hands, and tore his hair,
And cryed out most piteously:
'Oh! it's thou,' said he,
'That have brought me Low,
And troubled me so,
That I know not what to do.
'For I have made a vow,' he sed,
'The which must be replenished;'
****
'What thou hast spoke
Do not revoke,
What thou hast said;
Be not afraid;
Altho' it be I,
Keep promises to God on high.
'But, dear father, grant me one request,
That I may go to the wilderness,
Three months there with my friends to stay;
There to bewail my virginity;
And let there be,'
Said he,
'Some two or three
Young maids with me.'
So he sent her away,
For to mourn, for to mourn, till her dying day.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Tribute To Our Fathers
Black sheep son's father
What a grief to be!
Fool's teacher doth but
Potsherds glues apiece.
Father's heroism ring out
And blessing rain upon yourself;
At noble father cock a snook
And basket-full sorrows harvest.
The flo'er of youth maximize
But not 'gainst noble father.
Better "No" when 'live and strong
Than spite at his solemn sleep.
Cock your ear and be under his wings
For o'er you The Supreme honours him.
Father's blessing the son's hand strengthens
But father's curse a fatal road paves.
Yourself never praise
On your father's snub;
His disdain yours is,
His praise yours too is.
poem by Christian Tobechukwu Okafor
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Princess Margaret
The sister of Queen Elizabeth,
The daughter of King George VI,
Princess Margaret was dead
In her seventy first year,
On Tenth February,2002,
Her mother a centurion,
Having attended her funeral.
She was not born to be the queen
But ruled as a beauty queen.
Group Captain Peter Townsend
Was fortunate to be her lover.
Princess Margaret was unfortunate
To forgo her love for the royalty.
She was more so to fit herself
With her unfit match;
She ended her life on a sad note.
Assets and beauty are not guarantees
For the success of a woman’s life.
A most covetable commodity
Had rusted, long unattended.
05.03.2002, Pakd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Requiem for Margaret
Something happened today
Today it was I heard a neighbour
died
And I saw the loved ones cry
Today it was today,
We saw the end of her
Today it was saw the toil of her
Go down the drain
Together with the the rain
And it broke my heart
I lost my manhood and cried
For Margaret
My good neghbour.
What a regret to see her labours
Over the years
Go down in just one day.
Margaret is gone forever,
It is no lie
But with Christ she lies.
poem by Efe Benjamin
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Johannesburg!
Johannesburg (Lyric)
Johannesburg
Johannesburg
I’m here and starting to shine
Like a chandelier
You spark the atmosphere
Come on! Let our talents combine.
Pink satin tights
Bright city lights
Oh wow! But I’m doing fine
I feel so lyrical
And it’s a miracle
To see these gumboot feet of mine just fly.
Chorus:
There is this big band sound
That’s playing all around
A carousel of hope
for both the lost and the found.
I want the whole big world to know
you’re my home town…
You’re good as gold – Johannesburg.
You’re good as gold - Johannesburg.
© Margaret Kollmer
poem by Margaret Kollmer
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Titles And Respect
I am told often
(all that,
presumably, to nurture some sophistication in me)
that one must address people with an apt title
or salutation:
Sir, Miss, Mr, Mrs, Lady, Guru,
Your Majesty, Most Revered Sir;
Most Holy Representative of God;
Mr President I Kiss Your Feet;
God Almighty,
Dr, Professor, Most Reverend, Your Highness …
and the likes;
this, I am advised (or warned as the case may be) ,
shows one’s respect
but what I cannot fathom in my simplicity is
if it is the case that I have no respect for a kangaroo
if I simply call it joey
which simply anyway crawls back to its mum’s teats;
and if a child laughs and speaks to me with no titles
but simply with a: Hi, my ball is in your yard;
could you throw it over the fence, please? -
and likewise I do not throw a title at the child,
are the two of us - child and neighbor - guilty of disrespect?
and what if my wife and I do not greet each other:
Good morning, Sir or Good morning, Madam;
or Good Night, Sir or Good Night, Madam…
are we two guilty of a lack of finesse and not having respect?
in all these
I truly and simply, and respectfully, cannot see
if we have, or do not have any respect for one another…
But still I am chided by the respect-obsessed world;
ah, the ways of the clever world are indeed mysterious
and beyond a common man’s understanding…
poem by Raj Arumugam
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What'll We Do For Christmas?
What'll we do for Christmas? A child said to her Mother,
Shall we have a christmas party, cake and ice cream too;
With lots of balloons and streamers, and a star as well,
But; the mother said, give to an orphan, a Christmas bell,
Then tell them to come for tea, tell them the Christmas story;
This is what God wants us to do, to share with our family
What'll we do for Christmas, said a boy to His father,
Can we have a holiday, and take our things I'd rather;
Buy some good things to eat, and help my grandmother,
But the father said lets invite, a poor man or lady to tea,
Shower them with kindness, as we have plenty;
This is what God wants us to do, show love from you and me.
What'll we do for Christmas said children to their teacher,
Shall we have a Christmas concert, and ask the preacher;
And invite our family, and all our friends as well too,
The teacher said 'twas a great idea, the Christmas story true;
About Mary and Joseph, and Jesus born in a stable,
But remember the story is so true, it isn't just a fable.
poem by Margaret Haig
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Who I Am! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
I am My Father's Daughter
I am Torn Between Being Your Perfect Daughter or Letting You Go Forever
I am Finally Seeing Why I made All My Countless Mistakes They Were All Because Of You
I Am Turning Into The Person Who I never wanted To Be But Its In My Blood& Can't Change Who We really are
I Am Touching My Cold Heartless Heart That You Finally Broke & Destroyed That Not Even I can Fix
I Am Hoping & Praying My Future Never Ever Turns Into My Past Again
I Am Trying To See The Good Bout You & Yet None Come To My Mind
I Am Seeing The Monster I've Become, Yet I Won't Cry nor Scream
I Am Understanding Why I Won't or Can't Get Rid Of all This Bad Horrible Blood
I Am A Daddy's Girl till The End OF Time Whether I Accept IT Or Not
I Am Always & Forever Gonna Be My Father's Daughter Like Father Like Daughter.......................
poem by Hadyn Rodriguez
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The Ballad of the Red Earl
It is not for them to criticize too minutely the methods the Irish followed, though they might deplore some of their results. During the past few years Ireland had been going through what was tantamount to a revolution. -- EARL SPENCER
Red Earl, and will ye take for guide
The silly camel-birds,
That ye bury your head in an Irish thorn,
On a desert of drifting words?
Ye have followed a man for a God, Red Earl,
As the Lord o' Wrong and Right;
But the day is done with the setting sun
Will ye follow into the night?
He gave you your own old words, Red Earl,
For food on the wastrel way;
Will ye rise and eat in the night, Red Earl,
That fed so full in the day?
Ye have followed fast, ye have followed far,
And where did the wandering lead?
From the day that ye praised the spoken word
To the day ye must gloss the deed.
And as ye have given your hand for gain,
So must ye give in loss;
And as ye ha' come to the brink of the pit,
So must ye loup across.
For some be rogues in grain, Red Earl,
And some be rogues in fact,
And rogues direct and rogues elect;
But all be rogues in pact.
Ye have cast your lot with these, Red Earl;
Take heed to where ye stand.
Ye have tied a knot with your tongue, Red Earl,
That ye cannot loose with your hand.
Ye have travelled fast, ye have travelled far,
In the grip of a tightening tether,
Till ye find at the end ye must take for friend
The quick and their dead together.
Ye have played with the Law between your lips,
And mouthed it daintilee;
But the gist o' the speech is ill to teach,
For ye say: "Let wrong go free."
Red Earl, ye wear the Garter fair,
And gat your place from a King:
Do ye make Rebellion of no account,
And Treason a little thing?
And have ye weighed your words, Red Earl,
That stand and speak so high?
And is it good that the guilt o' blood,
Be cleared at the cost of a sigh?
And is it well for the sake of peace,
Our tattered Honour to sell,
And higgle anew with a tainted crew --
Red Earl, and is it well?
Ye have followed fast, ye have followed far,
On a dark and doubtful way,
And the road is hard, is hard, Red Earl,
And the price is yet to pay.
Ye shall pay that price as ye reap reward
For the toil of your tongue and pen --
In the praise of the blamed and the thanks of the shamed,
And the honour o' knavish men.
They scarce shall veil their scorn, Red Earl,
And the worst at the last shall be,
When you tell your heart that it does not know
And your eye that it does not see.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Father And Daughter
Father and daughter spend some quiet time together in the living room
Shining through the curtain is the sun
And outside is the glorious afternoon
Father reads to his daughter the poetry she loves
Father and daughter enjoy each other's company
Father takes his daughter by the hand
As they take a walk outside
Father cares for his daughter
And always wishes the very best to happen for her
poem by Justin Gildow
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