From The Ladies Defence
Melissa: I've still rever'd your Order [she is responding to a Parson] as Divine;
And when I see unblemish'd Virtue shine,
When solid Learning, and substantial Sense,
Are joyn'd with unaffected Eloquence;
When Lives and Doctrices of a Piece are made,
And holy Truths with humble Zeal convey'd;
When free from Passion, Bigottry, and Pride,
Not sway'd by Int'rest, nor to Parties ty'd,
Contemning Riches, and abhorring strife,
And shunning all the noisy Pomps of Life,
You live the aweful Wonders of your time,
Without the least Suspicion of a Crime:
I shall with Joy the highest Deference pay,
and heedfully attend to all you say.
From such, Reproofs shall always welcome prove,
As being th' Effects of Piety and Love.
But those from me can challenge no Respect,
Who on us all without just Cause reflect:
Who without Mercy all the Sex decry,
And into open Defamations fly:
Who think us Creatures for Derision made,
And the Creator with his Works upbraid:
What he call'd good, they proudly think not so,
And with their Malice, their Prophaneness show.
'Tis hard we shou'd be by the Men despis'd,
Yet kept from knowing what wou'd make us priz'd:
Debarr'd from Knowledge, banish'd from the Schools,
And with the utmost Industry bred Fools.
Laugh'd out of Reason, jested out of Sense,
And nothing left but Native Innocence:
Then told we are incapable of Wit,
And only for the meanest Drudgeries fit:
Made Slaves to serve their Luxury and Pride,
And with innumerable Hardships try'd,
'Till Pitying Heav'n release us from our Pain,
Kind Heav'n to whom alone we dare complain.
Th' ill-natur'd World will no Compassion show;
Such as are wretched, it wou'd still have so:
It gratifies its Envy and its Spight;
The most in others Miseries take Delight.
While we are present they some Pity spare,
And feast us on a thin Repast of Air:
Look Grave and Sigh, when we our Wrongs relate,
An in a Compliment accuse our Fate:
Blame those to whom we our Misfortunes owe,
And all the Signs of real Friendship show.
But when we're absent, we their Sport are made,
They fan the Flame, and our Oppressors aid;
Joyn with the Stronger, the Victorious Side,
And all our Suff'ring, all our griefs deride.
Those gen'rous few, whom kinder Thoughts inspire,
And who the Happiness of all desire;
Who wish we were from barb'rous Usage free,
Exempt from Toils, and shameful Slavery,
Yet let us, unreprov'd, mis. spend our Hours,
And to mean Purposes employ our nobler Pow'rs.
They think, if we our Thoughts can but express,
And know but how to Work, to Dance and Dress,
It is enough, as much as we shou'd mind,
As if we were for nothing else design'd,
But made, like Puppets, to divert Mankind.
O that my Sex wou'd all such Toys despise;
And only study to be Good, and Wise;
Inspect themselves, and every Blemish find,
Search all the close Recesses of the Mind,
And leave no vice, no ruling Passion there,
Nothing to raise a Blush, or cause a Fear:
Their Memories with solid Notions fill,
And let their Reason dictate to their Will,
Instead of Novels, Histories peruse,
And for their Guides the wiser Ancients chuse,
Thro' all the Labyrinths of Learning go,
And grow more humble, as they more do know.
By doing this, they will Respect procure,
Silence the Men, and lasting Fame secure;
And to themselves the best Companions prove,
And neither fear their Malice, nor desire their Love.
poem by Lady Mary Chudleigh
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Related quotes
Unaffected
there never seems to be, because what i believe, a moment i'm not trying
to show them who i am, why can't they understand the things that
they're denying?
they're denying...
so what should i do, just lay next to you as though i'm unaffected?
and who should i be when they're judging me as though i'm unaffected?
a chance they'd never give to ever want to live the life that i am made of
theres nothing left to prove, my heart's forever true, what is it they're
afraid of?
afraid of....
so what should i do, just lay next to you as though i'm unaffected?
and who should i be when they're judging me as though i'm unaffected?
before they even saw my face they knew that i was not the same
and decided i was not the one for you, for you...
so what should i do? i'm not unaffected
and who should i be? i'm not unaffected
so what should i do, just lay next to you as though i'm unaffected?
and who should i be when they're judging me as though i'm unaffected?
unaffected.......
song performed by by Hoobastank
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The real learning
Learning is not just to read and write.
To learn to live with, to stand by truth,
To uphold virtue, to get aesthetic sense,
To trim the skill and to heal the earth
Are the true learning one must have.
10.07.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Epistle to Mrs. Tyler
It ever was allow'd, dear Madam,
Ev'n from the days of father Adam,
Of all perfection flesh is heir to,
Fair patience is the gentlest virtue;
This is a truth our grandames teach,
Our poets sing, and parsons preach;
Yet after all, dear Moll, the fact is
We seldom put it into practice;
I'll warrant (if one knew the truth)
You've call'd me many an idle youth,
And styl'd me rude ungrateful bear,
Enough to make a parson swear.
I shall not make a long oration
in order for my vindication,
For what the plague can I say more
Than lazy dogs have done before;
Such stuff is naught but mere tautology,
And so take that for my apology.
First then for custards, my dear Mary,
The produce of your dainty dairy,
For stew'd, for bak'd, for boil'd, for roast,
And all the teas and all the toast;
With thankful tongue and bowing attitude,
I here present you with my gratitude:
Next for you apples, pears, and plums
Acknowledgment in order comes;
For wine, for ale, for fowl, for fish--for
Ev'n all one's appetite can wish for:
But O ye pens and O ye pencils,
And all ye scribbling utensils,
Say in what words and in what meter,
Shall unfeign'd admiration greet her,
For that rich banquet so refin'd
Her conversation gave the mind;
The solid meal of sense and worth,
Set off by the desert of mirth;
Wit's fruit and pleasure's genial bowl,
And all the joyous flow of soul;
For these, and every kind ingredient
That form'd your love--your most obedient.
poem by Christopher Smart
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Shine On
The greatest gift, the gift of life
The gift of love divine
God gave us all a special gift
He meant for it to shine
He meant for it to shine
The darkest night can be made light
By one bright word or smile
If wed put on our neighbors shoes
And choose to walk a mile
God gave us all our own free will
To choose the paths we take
No greater deed could eer be done
Than for anothers sake
The greatest gift, the gift of life
The gift of love divine
God gave us all a special gift
He meant for it to shine
He meant for it to shine
Shine on, shine on, for all to see
Gods light inside your soul
Shine on, shine on, let love flow free
Warm others in its glow
Shine on, shine on, shine on
So hide it not or it will fade
Shine on, shine on, shine on
Shine on, shine on, shine on
The greatest gift, the gift of life
The gift of love divine
God gave us all a special gift
He meant for it to shine
Shine on, shine on, shine on
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet XVIII: To This Our World
To the Celestial Numbers
To this our world, to Learning, and to Heav'n,
Three Nines there are, to every one a Nine,
One number of the Earth, the other both divine;
One woman now makes three odd numbers ev'n.
Nine Orders first of Angels be in Heav'n,
Nine Muses do with Learning still frequent:
These with the Gods are ever resident;
Nine Worthy Women to the world were giv'n.
My Worthy One to these Nine Worthies addeth,
And my fair Muse one Muse unto the Nine,
And my good Angel, in my soul divine,
With one more Order these Nine Orders gladdeth;
My Muse, my Worthy, and my Angel then
Makes every One of these three Nines a Ten.
poem by Michael Drayton
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Learning
I'm learning to say thank you.
And I'm learning to say please.
And I'm learning to use Kleenex,
Not my sweater, when I sneeze.
And I'm learning not to dribble.
And I'm learning not to slurp.
And I'm learning (though it sometimes really hurts me)
Not to burp.
And I'm learning to chew softer
When I eat corn on the cob.
And I'm learning that it's much
Much easier to be a slob.
poem by Judith Viorst
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Communication Skills
Your conversation...
It's all over the place.
'I'm glad you noticed that.
Because I am responding to you.
I pride myself on listening.
And delivering immediate feedback.
So...
If you have noticed 'my' conversation,
Has been all over the place...
Not making sense OR contact?
Listen to yourself sometimes.
You will find your communication skills,
Way off track.'
So what are you saying?
I don't pay attention?
'Well,
It's like this...
If you think my conversation is scattered,
And it is just the two of us 'in' one conversation...
And I am responding to 'you'?
You figure that one out by yourself.
Because it is obvious to me,
You don't need me here...
To enjoy your own thoughts! '
True!
Maybe I should be a writer...
Huh?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet XXV: The Wisest Scholar
The wisest scholar of the wight most wise
By Phoebus' doom, with sugar'd sentence says,
That Virtue, if it once met with our eyes,
Strange flames of love it in our souls would raise;
But for that man with pain his truth descries,
Whiles he each thing in sense's balance weighs,
And so nor will, nor can behold those skies
Which inward sun to heroic mind displays,
Virtue of late with virtuous care to stir
Love of herself, took Stella's shape, that she
To mortal eyes might sweetly shine in her.
It is most true, for since I her did see,
Virtue's great beauty in that face I prove,
And find th'effect, for I do burn in love.
poem by Philip Sidney
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Melissa (live)
Melissa" is an Allman Brothers Band song from 1972. A live IG
version appears on "Shades of Indigo."
Melissa.
Crossroads seem to come and go
The gypsy flies from coast to coast
Knowing many, loving none
Bearing sorrow, having fun
But back home he'll always run
To sweet Melissa.
Freight train, each car looks the same - all the same
No one knows the gypsy's name
No one hears his lonely sighs
There are no blankets where he lies
In all his deepest dreams the gypsy flies
With sweet Melissa.
Again the morning's come
Again he's on the run
Sunbeams shining through his hair
Appearing not to have a care
Pick up your gear, and, gypsy, roll on, roll on
Crossroads, will you ever let him go?
Will you hide the dead man's ghost?
Will he lie beneath the clay?
Will his spirit float away?
But I know that he won't stay
Without Melissa
Yes, I know that he won't stay
Without Melissa
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have six sisters, so I assumed I'd have a girl. Learning I was having a boy was really weird.
quote by Melissa Joan Hart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The idea that we can actually have an impact on places more or less instantly, too, by responding in some way or not responding, I think, also makes it true.
quote by Peter Singer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Rock Garden
in my present garden
i put rocks and pebbles
some sands
added dusts
they ask what do i grow
in there?
i put a chair and sit there
alone
barefoot i put my hands
in the open
i gaze
feeling like the sun
to some
planets
the stones as i walk
for a while
grate
as though they have
teeth
then back to where i sit
they begin
to grow silence
silence is a lotus
it is a pond too where
a dragonfly is
hovering
there is this stillness of a
little universe
the space is emptiness
of imaginary
stars
there is no moon here
no one is lost
there are no leaves
no pretensions of stems and calyx
the stones are faceless
like everyone that i meet in the mall
the rocks stand like gods
unchanged unaffected by the chaos of
my thoughts
i gaze
transfer my eyes to those that remain
intact
immutable hardness
fixed situations
they only sound when you take a walk
they do not rearrange things here
for they are heavy
and always
unchanged, unaffected
steady, firm
lifeless, unfeeling
stubborn, solid,
tonight darkness sleeps with them
its coldness seeps in every stone
lifelessly
always unaffected, unfeeling
and much as i wanted to stay
i can't
i have life out there
a door to open again and again...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Philosophy Of Beauty And The Beautiful
Simplicity is beauty,
Purity, divinity;
The virtue of quality
Excels that of quantity.
Beauty that pleases the sense is good,
Beauty and vitue are good,
Seek for things simple but noble,
Virtue alone can ennoble.
True beauty is simply graceful,
The graceful are beautiful,
There's beauty that's deceitful,
Nature itself is beautiful,
Beauty is perfection of form,
Virtue and good sense conforms,
Beautiful things may deform,
But virtue act in good form.
poem by Merlin Archivilla
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A Short Hymn Upon The Birth Of Prince Charles
You that on Stars do look,
Arrest not there your sight,
Though Natures fairest Book,
And signed with propitious light;
Our Blessing now is more Divine,
Then Planets that at Noon did shine.
To thee alone be praise,
From whom our Joy descends,
Thou Chearer of our Days,
Of Causes first, and last of Ends;
To thee this May we sing, by whom
Our Roses from the Lilies bloom.
Upon this Royal Flower,
Sprung from the chastest Bed,
Thy glorious sweetness shower,
And first let Myrtles Crown his Head;
Then Palms and Lawrels wreath'd between;
But let the Cypress late be seen.
And so succeeding men,
When they the fulness see
Of this our Joy, shall then
In consort joyn as well as we,
To celebrate his Praise above,
That spreads our Land with fruits of Love.
poem by Henry Wotton
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Shine
Put on your blindfold
And a dress that's tight
And come with me
On a mystery night
Open your eyes
Follow our stars under a painted sky
We'll leave the world behind
We're learning to fly
We used to get by
Forget the pictures on your TV screen
We'll steal the visions
That you keep for your dreams
You can turn me on
I was blind and I saw the light
My angel coming
In a brilliant white
Shine for me
You've been hanging from a rope of mediocrity
Strung up by your insecurities
You can shine for me
Somebody has to
Shine for me
It's difficult not to
Shine for me
Follow our stars under a painted sky
We'll leave the world behind
We're learning to fly
We used to get by
Forget the pictures on your TV screen
We'll steal the visions
That you keep for your dreams
You can turn me on
You've been hanging from a rope of mediocrity
Strung up by your insecurities
You can shine for me
Somebody has to
Shine for me
It's difficult not to
Shine for me
Somebody has to
Shine for me
It's difficult not to
Shine for me
song performed by by Depeche Mode from Exciter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Captain H------D, Of The 65th Regiment
SAY, muse divine, can hostile scenes delight
The warrior's bosom in the fields of fight?
Lo! here the christian and the hero join
With mutual grace to form the man divine.
In H-----D see with pleasure and surprise,
Where valour kindles, and where virtue lies:
Go, hero brave, still grace the post of fame,
And add new glories to thine honour'd name,
Still to the field, and still to virtue true:
Britannia glories in no son like you.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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The Virtue Of Woman
Man of virtue has need;-into life with boldness he plunges,
Entering with fortune more sure into the hazardous strife;
But to woman one virtue suffices; it is ever shining
Lovingly forth to the heart; so let it shine to the eye!
poem by Friedrich Schiller
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Intermix
Intermix the polishing of a forgotten summer,
The parson cools me after the furthest colour.
Furtive numerals are held in the mind when furthest,
Novelties of an oaf nurse on nothing.
Numerous designs matter on the shelf,
Gory oaths are honourable and gouging strength.
Let colours intermix and let the parson mix with us,
The length of numbers are called equations for us.
Gormandize the food once you steal,
The parson refuses to renovate your reality.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Epilogue to The Husband His Own Cuckold
Like some raw sophister that mounts the pulpit,
So trembles a young poet at a full pit.
Unused to crowds, the parson quakes for fear,
And wonders how the devil he durst come there;
Wanting three talents needful for the place,
Some beard, some learning, and some little grace.
Nor is the puny poet void of care;
For authors, such as our new authors are,
Have not much learning, nor much wit to spare;
And as for grace, to tell the truth, there's scarce one,
But has as little as the very parson:
Both say, they preach and write for your instruction;
But 'tis for a third day, and for induction.
The difference is, that though you like the play,
The poet's gain is ne'er beyond his day;
But with the parson 'tis another case,
He, without holiness, may rise to grace;
The poet has one disadvantage more,
That if his play be dull, he's damned all o'er,
Not only a damn'd blockhead, but damn'd poor.
But dulness well becomes the sable garment;
I warrant that ne'er spoiled a priest's preferment;
Wit's not his business, and as wit now goes,
Sirs, 'tis not so much yours as you suppose,
For you like nothing now but nauseous beaux.
You laugh not, gallants, as by proof appears,
At what his beauship says, but what he wears;
So 'tis your eyes are tickled, not your ears.
The tailor and the furrier find the stuff,
The wit lies in the dress, and monstrous muff.
The truth on 't is, the payment of the pit
Is like for like, clipt money for clipt wit.
You cannot from our absent author hope,
He should equip the stage with such a fop.
Fools change in England, and new fools arise;
For, though the immortal species never dies,
Yet every year new maggots make new flies.
But where he lives abroad, he scarce can find
One fool, for million that he left behind.
poem by John Dryden
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And it's a question of how far we're willing to go in order to let the ego shine, in order to let that beacon penetrate not only the local scene but the world.
quote by Taylor Hackford
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