En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Alma; or, The Progress of the Mind. In Three Cantos. - Canto II.

But shall we take the Muse abroad,
To drop her idly on the road,
And leave our subject in the middle,
As Butler did his Bear and Fiddle?
Yet he, consummate master, knew
When to recede and where pursue:
His noble negligence teach
What others' toils despair to reach.
He, perfect dancer, climbs the rope,
And balances your fear and hope.
If, after some distinguished leap,
He drops his pole, and seems to slip,
Straight gathering all his active strength,
He rises higher half his length:
With wonder you approve his sleight,
And owe your pleasure to your fright:
But like poor Andrew I advance,
False mimic of my master's dance;
Around the chord a while I sprawl,
And thence, though low, in earnest fall.

My preface tells you I digress'd;
He's half absolved who has confess'd.

I like, quoth Dick, your simile,
And in return take two from me.
As masters in the
clare-obscure

With various light your eyes allure,
A flaming yellow here they spread,
Draw off in blue, or change in red;
Yet from these colours oddly mix'd
Your sight upon the whole is fix'd:
Or as, again, your courtly dames
(Whose clothes returning birthday claims)
By arts improve the stuffs they vary,
And things are best as most contrary;
The gown with stiff embroidery shining,
Looks charming with a slighter lining;
Look out, if Indian figure stain,
The in-side must be rich and plain:
So you, great authors, have thought fit
To make digression temper wit:
You calm them with a milder air:
To break their points you turn their force,
And furbelow the plain discourse.

Richard, quoth Matt, these words of thine
Speak something sly and something fine;
But I shall e'en resume my theme,
However thou may'st praise or blame.

As people marry now and settle,
Fierce Love abates his usual mettle;
Worldly desires and household cares
Disturb the godhead's soft affairs:
So now, as health or temper changes,
In larger compass Alma ranges,
This day below, the next above,
As light or solid whimsies move.
So merchant has his house in Town,
And country seat near Bansted Down;
From one he dates his foreign letters,
Sends out his goods and duns his debtors:
In th' other, at his hours of leisure,
He smokes his pipe, and takes his pleasure.

And now your matrimonial Cupid,
Lash'd on by Time, grows tired and stupid:
For story and experience tell us
That man grows cold and woman jealous.
Both would their solid ends secure;
He sighs for freedom she for power:
His wishes tend abroad to roam,
And hers to domineer at home.
Thus passion flags by slow degrees,
And ruffled more delighted legs,
The busy mind does seldom go
To those once charming seats below;
For well-bred feints and future wars,
(When he last autumn lay a-dying)
Was but to gain him to appoint her
By codicil a larger jointure:
The woman finds it all a trick
That he could swoon when she was sick,
And knows that in that grief he reckon'd
One black-eyed Susan for his second.

Thus having strove some tedious years
With feign'd desires and real fears,
And tired with answers and replies
Of John affirms, and Martha lies,
Leaving this endless altercation,
The mind affects a higher station.

Poltis, that generous king of Thrace,
I think was in this very case.
All Asia now was by the ears,
And gods beat up for volunteers
To Greece and Troy, while Poltis sate
In quiet, governing his state.
And whence, said the pacific king,
Does all this noise and discord spring?
Why, Paris took Atrides' wife -
With ease I could compose this strife:
The injured hero should not lose,
Nor the young lover want, a spouse.
But Helen changed her first condition
Without her husband's just permission.
What from the dame can Paris hope?
She may as well from him elope.
Again, How can her old good man
With honour take her back again?
From hence I logically gather
The woman cannot live with either.
Now I have two right honest wives,
For whose possession no man strives:
One to Atrides I will send,
And t'other to my Trojan friend.
Each prince shall thus with honour have
What both so warmly seem to crave;
The wrath of gods and men shall cease,
And Poltis live and die in peace.

Dick, if this story pleaseth thee,
Pray thank Dan Pope, who told it me.

Howe'er swift Alma's flight may vary,
(Take this by way of corollary)
Some limbs she finds the very same
In place, and dignity, and name:
These dwell at such convenient distance,
That each may give his friend assistance.
Thus he who runs or dances, begs
The equal vigour of two legs;
So much to both does Alma trust
She ne'er regards which goes the first.
Teague could make neither of them stay,
For whilst one hand exalts the blow,
And on the earth extends the foe,
Th' other would take it wondrous ill
If in your pocket he lay still.
And when you shoot and shut one eye,
To lend the other friendly aid,
Or wink as coward, and afraid.
No, Sir; whilst he withdraws his flame,
His comrade takes the surer aim.
One moment if his beams recede,
As soon as e'er the bird is dead,
Opening again, he lays his claim
To half the profit, half the fame,
And helps to pocket up the game.
'Tis thus one tradesman slips away
To give his partner fairer play.

Some limbs again, in bulk or stature
Unlike, and not a-kin by Nature,
In concert act, like modern friends,
Because one serves the other's ends.
The arm thus waits upon the heart,
So quick to take the bully's part,
That one, though warm, decides more slow
Than th' other executes the blow:
A stander-by may chance to have it
Ere Hack himself perceives he gave it.

The amorous eyes thus always go
A strolling for their friends below;
For long before the squire and dame
Have
tete a tete
relieved their flame,
Ere visits yet are brought about,
They eye by sympathy looks out,
Knows Florimel, and longs to meet her,
And if he sees is sure to greet her,
Though at sash-window, on the stairs,
At court, nay, (authors say) at prayers -

The funeral of some valiant knight
May give this thing its proper light.
View his two gauntlets; these declare
That both his hands were used to war;
And from his two gilt spurs 'tis learn'd
His feet were equally concern'd:
But have you not with thought beheld
The sword hang dangling o'er his shield?
Which shows the breast that plate was used to
Had an ally right arm to trust to;
And by the peep holes in his crest,
Is it not virtually confess'd
That there his eye took distant aim,
And glances respect to that bright dame,
In whose delight his hope was center'd,
And for whose glove his life he ventured?

Objections to my general system
May rise, perhaps, and I have miss'd them;
But I can call to my assistance
Proximity (mark that!) and distance;
Can prove that all things, on occasion,
Love union, and desire adhesion!
That Alma merely is a scale,
And motives, like the weights prevail.
If neither side turn down or up,
With loss or gain, with fear or hope,
The balance always would hang even,
Like Mahomet's tomb, 'twixt earth and heaven.

This, Richard, is a curious case:
Suppose your eyes sent equal rays
Upon two distant pots of ale,
Not knowing which was mild or stale;
In this sad state your doubtful choice
Would never have the casting voice;
Which best nor worst you could not think,
And die you must for want of drink,
Unless some chance inclines your sight,
Setting one pot in fairer light;
Then you prefer or A or B,
As lines and angles best agree;
Your sense resolved impels your will;
She guides your hand - So drink your fill.

Have you not seen a baker's maid
Between two equal panniers sway'd?
Her tallies useless lie and idle
If placed exactly in the middle;
But forced from this unactive state
By virtue of some casual weight,
On either side you hear them clatter,
And judge of right and left hand matter.

Now, Richard, this coercive force
Without your choice must take its course.
Great kings to wars are pointed forth
Like loaded needles to the North,
And thou and I, by power unseen,
Are barely passive and suck'd in
To Henault's vaults or Celia's chamber,
As straw and paper are by amber.
If we sit down to play or set,
(Suppose at Ombre or Basset)
Let people call us cheats or fools,
Our cards and we are equal tools,
We sure in vain the cards condemn;
Ourselves both cut and shuffled them:
In vain on Fortune's aid rely;
She only is a stander-by.
Poor men! poor papers! we and they
Do some impulsive force obey,
Are but play'd with - do not play.
But space and matter we should blame;
They palm'd the trick that lost the game.

Thus to save further contradiction
Against what you may think but fiction,
I for attraction, Dick, declare,
Deny it those bold men that dare.
As well your mention as your thought
Is all by hidden impulse wrought:
Even saying that you think or walk,
How like a country squire you talk?

Mark then; - Where fancy or desire
Collects the beams of vital fire,
Into that limb fair Alma slides
And there
pro tempore
resides:
She dwells in Nicholini's tongue,
When Pyrrhus chants the heavenly song;
When Pedro does the lute command,
She guides the cunning artist's hand;
Through Macer's gullet she runs down,
When the vile glutton dines alone;
And, void of modesty and thought,
She follows Bibo's endless draught,
Through the soft sex again she ranges,
As youth, caprice, or fashion, changes:
Fair Alma, careless and serene,
In Fanny's sprightly eyes is seen.
While they diffuse their infant beams,
Themselves not conscious of their flames.
Again, fair Alma sits confess'd
On Florimel's experter breast,
When she the rising sigh constrains,
And by concealing speaks her pains.
In Cynthia's neck fair Alma glows,
When the vain thing her jewels shows;
When Jenny's stays are newly laced
Fair Alma plays about her waist;
And when the swelling hoop sustains
The rich brocade, fair Alma deigns
Into that lower space to enter,
Of the large round herself the center.

Again; that single limb or feature
(Such is the cogent force of Nature)
Which most did Alma's passion move,
In the first object of her love,
For ever will be found confess'd,
And printed on the amorous breast.

O Abelard! ill-fated youth,
Thy tale will justify this truth;
But well I weet thy cruel wrong
Adorns a nobler poet's song,
Dan Pope, for thy misfortune grieve!,
With kind concern and skill has weaved
A silken web, and ne'er shall fade
Its colours gently: as he laid
The mantle o'er thy sad distress,
And Venus shall the texture bless.
He o'er the weeping nun has drawn
Such artful folds of sacred lawn,
That Love, with equal grief and pride,
Shall see the crime he strives to hide,
And softly drawing back the veil,
The god shall to his votaries tell
Each conscious tear, each blushing grace,
That deck'd dear Eloisa's face.

Happy the poet, bless'd the lays,
Which Buckingham has deign'd to praise.

Next, Dick, as youth and habit sways,
A hundred gambols Alma plays.
If, whilst a boy, Jack run from school,
Fond of his hunting-horn and pole,
Though gout and age his speed detain,
Old John halloos his hounds again:
By his fireside he starts the hare,
And turns her in his wicker chair.
His feet, however lame, you find,
Have got the better of his mind.

If, while the Mind was in her leg,
The dance affected nimble Peg,
Old Madge bewitch'd, at sixty-one
Calls for Green Sleeves and Jumping Joan.
In public mask or private ball,
From Lincoln's-inn to Goldsmith's-Hall,
All Christmas long away she trudges,
Trips it was 'prentices and judges;
In vain her children urge her stay,
And age or palsy bar the way:
But if those images prevail,
Which whilom did affect the tail,
She still reviews the ancient scene,
Forgets the forty years between;
Awkwardly gay, and oddly merry,
Her scarf pale pink, her headknot cherry,
O'erheated with ideal rage,
She cheats her son to wed her page.

If Alma, whilst the man was young,
Slipp'd up too soon into his tongue,
Pleased with his own fantastic skill,
He lets that weapon ne'er lie still;
On any point if you dispute,
Depend upon it he'll confute:
Change sides, and you increase your pain,
For he'll confute you back again:
For one may speak with Tully's tongue,
Yet all the while be in the wrong;
And 'tis remarkable that they
talk most who have the least to say.
Your dainty speakers have the curse
To plead bad causes down to worse;
As dames who native beauty want,
Still uglier look the more they paint.

Again: if in the female sex
Alma should on this member fix,
(A cruel and a desperate case,
From which Heaven shield my lovely lass!)
For ever more all care is vain
That would bring Alma down again.
As in habitual gout or stone,
The only thing that can be done
Is to correct your drink and diet,
And keep the inward foe in quiet;
So if, for any sins of ours,
Or our forefathers, higher powers,
Severe, though just, afflict our life,
With that prime ill, a talking wife,
Till death shall bring the kind relief,
We must be patient or be deaf.

You know a certain lady, Dick,
Who saw me when I last was sick;
She kindly talk'd, at least three hours,
Of plastic forms and mental powers;
Described our pre-existing station,
Before this vile terrene creation;
And, lest I should be wearied, Madam,
To cut things short, came down to Adam;
From whence, as fast as she was able,
She drowns the world, and builds up Babel:
Through Syria, Persia, Greece, she goes,
And takes the Romans in the close.

But we'll descant on general Nature;
This is a system, not a satire.

Turn we this globe, and let us see
How different nations disagree,
In what we wear, or eat, and drink;
Nay, Dick, perhaps in what we think.
In water as you smell and taste
The soils through which it rose and past,
In Alma's manners you may read
The place where she was born and bred.

One people from their swaddling-bands
Released their infants' feet and hands:
Here Alma to these limbs was brought
And Sparta's offspring kick'd and fought.

Another taught their babes to talk
Ere they could yet in go-carts walk:
There Alma settled in the tongue,
And orators from Athens sprung.

Observe but in these neighbouring lands
The different use of mouth and hands:
As men reposed their various hopes,
In battles these, and those in tropes.

In Britain's isles, as Heylin notes,
The ladies trip in petticoats,
Which, for the honour of their nation,
They quit but on some great occasion,
Men there in breeches clad you view;
They claim that garment as their due.
In Turkey the reverse appears;
Long coats the haughty husband wears,
And greets his wife with angry speeches,
If she be seen without her breeches.

In our fantastic climes the fair
With cleanly powder dry their hair,
And round their lovely breast and head
Fresh flowers their mingled odours shed:
Your nicer Hottentots think meet
With guts and tripe to deck their feet;
With downcast looks on Totta's legs
The ogling youth most humbly begs
She would not from his hopes remove
At once his breakfast and his love;
And if the skittish nymph should fly,
He in a double sense must die.

We simple toasters take delight
To see our women's teeth look white,
And every saucy ill-bred fellow
Sneers at a mouth profoundly yellow
In China none hold women sweet,
Except their snags are black as jet:
King Chihu put nine queens to death,
Convict on statute, ivory teeth.

At Tonquin, if a prince should die,
(As Jesuits write, who never lie)
The wife, and counsellor, and priest,
Who served him most, and loved him best,
Prepare and light his funeral fire,
And cheerful on the pile expire.
In Europe 'twould be hard to find
In each degree on half so kind.

Now turn we to the farthest East,
And there observe the gentry drest.
Prince Giolo and his royal sisters,
Scarr'd with ten thousand comely blisters,
The marks remaining on the skin,
To tell the quality within:
Distinguish'd flashes deck the great,
As each excels in birth or state;
His oylet-holes are more and ampler:
The king's own body was a sampler.
Happy the climate where the beau
Wears the same suit for use and show;
And at a small expense your wife,
If once well pink'd, is cloath'd for life.

Westward again, the Indian fair
Is nicely smear'd with fat of bear:
Before you see you smell your toast,
And sweetest she who stinks the most.
The finest sparks and cleanest beaux
Drip from the shoulders to the toes.
How sleek their skins, their joints how easy!
There slovens only are not greasy.

I mention'd different ways of breeding;
Begin we in our children's reading,
To master John the English maid
A hornbrook gives of gingerbread,
And that the child may learn the better,
As he can name he eats the letter;
Proceeding thus with vast delight,
He spells and gnaws from left to right.
But show a Hebrew's hopeful son
Where we suppose the book begun,
The child would thank you for your kindness,
And read quite backward from our
finis
;
Devour he learning ne'er so fast,
Great A would be reserved the last.
An equal instance of this matter
Is in the manners of a daughter.
In Europe if a harmless maid,
By Nature and by Love betray'd,
Should ere a wife become a nurse,
Her friends would look on her the worse.
In China, Dampier's Travels tell ye,
(Look in his index for Pagelli)
Soon as the British ships unmoor,
And jolly long-boats row to shore,
Down come the nobles of the land,
Each brings his daughter in his hand,
Beseeching the mysterious tar
To make her but one hour his care:
The tender mother stands affrighted,
Les her dear daughter should be slighted,
And poor Miss Yaya dreads the shame
Of going back the maid she came.

Observe how custom, Dick, compels
The lady that in Europe dwells:
After her tea she slips away,
And what to do one need not say.
Now see how great Pomonque's queen
Behaved herself amongst the men;
Pleased with her punch, the gallant soul
First drank, then water'd in the bowl,
And sprinkled in the captain's face
The marks of her peculiar grace. -

To close this point we need not roam
For instances so far from home.
What parts gay France from sober Spain?
A little rising rocky chain.
Of men born south or north o' the hill,
Those seldom move, these ne'er stand still.
Dick, you love maps, and may perceive
Rome not far distant from Geneve.
If the good Pope remains at home,
He's the first prince in Christendom.
Choose then, good Pope, at home to stay,
Nor westward, curious, take thy way:
Thy way, unhappy, shouldst thou take
From Tiber's bank to Leman lake,
Thou art an aged priest no more,
But a young flaring painted bunny:
Thy sex is lost, thy town is gone;
No longer Rome, but Babylon.
That some few leagues should make this change,
To men unlearn'd seems mighty strange.

But need we, friend, insist on this?
Since, in the very Cantons Swiss,
All your philosophers agree,
And prove it plain, that one may be
A heretic or true believer,
On this or t'other side the rive.

Here, with an artful smile, quoth Dick -
Your proofs come mighty full and thick -

The bard, on this extensive chapter,
Wound up into poetic rapture,
Continued: Richard, cast your eye
By night upon a winter sky;
Cast it by day-light on the strand,
Which compasses fair Albion's land;
If you can count the stars that glow
Above, or sands that lie below,
Into these common places look,
Which from great authors I have took,
And count the proofs I have collected,
To have my writings well protected:
These I lay by for time of need,
And thou may'st at thy leisure read:
For standing every critic's rage,
I safely will, to future age
My system as a gift bequeath,
Victorious over spite and death.

poem by Matthew Prior
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Man In The Middle

Did you see that man in the limousine
With a pretty blond, he is fifty and the girls only seventeen
But she doesnt care, and she never will
If hes ninety-five she dont give a damn
Just as long as he pays the bill
Did you see that man with a fat cigar
He just left his lunch with a belly full of lobster and caviar
He can choose the wine from a vintage year
He can drink champagne in his limousine
While the rest of us drink a beer
cause hes the man in the middle, never second fiddle
Just like a spider in a cobweb
Hard as a hammer, not the kind of boss you double-cross
cause hes the man in the middle, knows the way to diddle
Hes never bothered by his conscience
Deals with the devil, cause he wants to be
Man in the middle, the middle, the middle
In the middle (in the middle, in the middle...)
But you see that man made a big mistake
Even though hes got all his servants and a mansion beside a lake
And the money too, all that he can spend
He can buy the most, nearly anything
But he cant buy an honest friend
cause hes the man in the middle, never second fiddle
Just like a spider in a cobweb
Hard as a hammer, not the kind of boss you double-cross
cause hes the man in the middle, knows the way to diddle
Hes never bothered by his conscience
Deals with the devil, cause he wants to be
Man in the middle, the middle, the middle
In the middle (in the middle, in the middle...)

song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Master Blaster

Everyone's feeling pretty
It's hotter than july
Though the world's full of problems
They couldn't touch us even if they tried
From the park i hear rhythms
Marley's hot on the box
Tonight there will be a party
On the corner at the end of the block
Didn't know you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet nobody ever told you that you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
You would be jammin' and jammin' and jammin', jam on
They want us to join their fighting
But our answer today
Is to let all our worries
Like the breeze through our fingers slip away
Peace has come to zimbabwe
Third world's right on the one
Now's the time for celebration
'cause we've only just begun
Didn't know that you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Bet you nobody ever told you that you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
You would be jammin' and jammin' and jammin', jam on
Bet you nobody ever told you that you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I know nobody told you that you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
We're jammin', jammin', jammin', jam on
You ask me am i happy
Well as matter of fact
I can say that i'm ecstatic
'cause we all just made a pact
We've agreed to get together
Joined as children in jah
When you're moving in the positive
Your destination is the brightest star
You didn't know that you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet you nobody ever told you that you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Don't you stop the music, oh no,
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Na, na na...
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Nobody told you oh, oh, oh, you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet you if someone approached you
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Yesterday to tell you that you would be jammin' you would not believe it because you never thought that you would be jammin'
Oh, oh, oh, oh,
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Jammin' 'til the break of dawn
Oh, oh, oh, you may as well believe what you are feeling
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Because you feel your body jammin'
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Oh, oh, you would be jammin' until the break of dawn
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
(we're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Master Blaster (Dub)

Everyone's feeling pretty
It's hotter than July
Though the world's full of problems
They couldn't touch us even if they tried
From the park I hear rhythms
Marley's hot on the box
Tonight there will be a party
On the corner at the end of the block
Didn't know you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet nobody ever told you that you
would be jammin' until the break of dawn
You would be jammin' and jammin' and jammin', jam on
They want us to join their fighting
But our answer today
Is to let all our worries
Like the breeze through our fingers slip away
Peace has come to Zimbabwe
Third World's right on the one
Now's the time for celebration
'Cause we've only just begun
Didn't know that you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Bet you nobody ever told you that you
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
You would be jammin' and jammin' and jammin', jam on
Bet you nobody ever told you that you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I know nobody told you that you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
We're jammin', jammin', jammin', jam on
You ask me am I happy
Well as matter of fact
I can say that I'm ecstatic
'Cause we all just made a pact
We've agreed to get together
Joined as children in Jah
When you're moving in the positive
Your destination is the brightest star
You didn't know that you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet you nobody ever told you that you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
Don't you stop the music, oh no,
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Na, na na...
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Nobody told you Oh, Oh, Oh, you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Would be jammin' until the break of dawn
I bet you if someone approached you
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
yesterday to tell you that you would be jammin' you would not believe it because you never thought that you would be jammin'
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh,
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
jammin' 'til the break of dawn
Oh, Oh, Oh, You may as well believe what you are feeling
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
because you feel your body jammin'
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
Oh, Oh, you would be jammin' until the break of dawn
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')
(We're in the middle of the makin's of the master blaster jammin')

song performed by by Stevie Wonder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fiddle And The Crowd

WHEN the day was at its middle,
Tired of limb and slow of pace,
Came a fiddler with his fiddle
To a crowded market place;
Lying, cheating, boasting, bragging,
Men and women walked together;
Heads were nodding, tongues were wagging,
Talk there was of trade and weather,
Talk there was of man's enslavement
To the tyrants, Toil and Worry;
Yet the fiddle on the pavement
Minding not the noise and hurry,
Singing low and singing loud —
Spoke its message to the crowd.
Said the fiddle —
'Pause and listen;
Can't you hear the waters running
Down the mossy mountain valleys?
Don't you see the lyre-bird sunning
Glossy plumes in fronded alleys?
Life is glory, life is glamour!'
Said the fiddle
In the middle
Of the tumult and the clamour.
Though unheeded seemed the fiddle,
Bidding each and all rejoice,
When the day was at its middle —
Yet beneath its magic voice,
Laughing, sobbing, teasing, fretting,
Men and women met together,
Smiled to find themselves forgetting
Troublous thoughts of trade and weather;
One bethought him of a cavern
Cool and sweet with running water,
And another of a tavern
And a tavern-keeper's daughter —
Ale to drink and lips to kiss —
'Twas the fiddle did all this!
Said the fiddle —
'Hush and hearken
To the song that I am singing,
For it is a song entrancing.
Telling now of gladness ringing,
Telling now of children dancing;
Life is music, life is glamour.'
Said the fiddle
In the middle
Of the tumult and the clamour.

poem by Roderic Quinn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How'd You Like It?

Well, then! How'd you like to bear the name of Butler
As an honor badge eight centuries at least,
And then have the Prohibitionists inform you
That a butler is a sort of outlawed beast?

poem by Ellis Parker Butler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Play On The Music

Play on the music
Drop by drop

The strings divine
The nature at its eloquence
From heavens to earth
Stretch the string
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Beethoven’s symphony
Chopin’s piano
Santana’s guitar
Or the cuckoos song
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the heat of the night
In cold surroundings
The story of my love
My illusions great
I construct heavens
Play on the music
Drop by drop
For the moments rare
It’s only for those
The discerning here
The enchanted being
Play on the music
Drop by drop

Don’t leave me alone
O soul you fly
The body shivers
With the thought
Of death and destruction
O soul we were friends
Thou fly to eternity
Play on the music
Drop by drop
Your place is heaven
I want to be heard
A slave to a master
So ungrateful
Your beauty in this world
I hath been
You decorated me
With ornaments rare
Play on the music
Drop by drop

For this is your fate
O carrier of soul

The life’s going by
Take your share
O body of the soul
Freedom anew
In the world here
Play on the music
Drop by drop

For I am the real
The being and the nothing
The beloved and the rival
The saki and the wine
Play on the music
Drop by drop
In the deep longing
Of the night long
The strings so stretched
From the heavens to earth
Sing songs of love, O beloved mine
Reveal thy face, in my imaginations wild
Torn is my being, between real and unreal
Play on the music
Drop by drop

In the middle of the night
The rain drops falling
From the clouds high
Is telling me this story
Khayyam’s disciple
Sings a song
Play on the music
Drop by drop

poem by Sadiqullah Khan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Drop It (An Old Disguise)

Ive been trying to run my life
Using every trick I knew.
I say anything anytime to anybody.
I do what I always wanted to.
But thats no way to keep me happy.
Its an old disguise.
I may be wealthy but I can still be wise
Drop my old disguise.
I cant seem to end my day
Until I feel somethings said and done.
A flashy guitar or a hot new car
Or at least a little fun.
But thats no way to keep me healthy.
Its an old disguise.
I may be wealthy but I can still be wise
Drop my old disguise.
Drop it. drop it. its an old disguise.
Drop it. drop it. open up your eyes.
Drop it. drop it. you aint got nine lives
Drop it. drop it.

song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fiddle About

Uncle ernie:
Uncle ernie:
Im your wicked uncle ernie
Im your wicked uncle ernie
Im glad you wont see or hear me
Im glad you wont see or hear me
As I fiddle about
As I fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
Your mother left me here to mind you
Your mother left me here to mind you
Now Im doing what I want to
Now Im doing what I want to
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddling about
Fiddle about!
Fiddle about!
Down with the bedclothes
Down with the bedclothes
Up with the nightshirt!
Up with the nightshirt!
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
You wont shout as I fiddle about
You wont shout as I fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about
Fiddle about !
Fiddle about !
Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.
Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.

song performed by by Who
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drop It

I've been trying to run my life
Using every trick i knew.
I say anything anytime to anybody.
I do what i always wanted to.
But that's no way to keep me happy.
It's an old disguise.
I may be wealthy but i can still be wise
Drop my old disguise.
I can't seem to end my day
Until i feel something's said and done.
A flashy guitar or a hot new car
Or at least a little fun.
But that's no way to keep me healthy.
It's an old disguise.
I may be wealthy but i can still be wise
Drop my old disguise.
Drop it. drop it. it's an old disguise.
Drop it. drop it. open up your eyes.
Drop it. drop it. you ain't got nine lives
Drop it. drop it.

song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Middle Of Nowhere

(buddy kaye / bea verdi)
Where does our love lie?
In the middle of nowhere
Will it soon pass me by?
In the middle of nowhere
Baby, wont you tell me
What am I to do?
Im in the middle of nowhere
Getting nowhere with you
Mmm, where did my heart land?
In the middle of nowhere
Where are the dreams I planned?
In the middle of nowhere
Listen to me baby
Listen to my plea
Im in the middle of nowhere
And its worrying me
Over and over again
You tell me you need my love
If what you say is true
Why cant we be together?
Over and over you tell me
Im all that youre thinking of
Baby you know that I love you
But I cant wait forever
Where does our love lie?
In the middle of nowhere
How can you let it die?
In the middle of nowhere
Are you gonna leave me?
Leave my heart astray
Im in the middle of nowhere
Come and show me the way
Over and over again
You tell me you need my love
Baby you know that I love you
But I cant wait forever
Where does our love lie?
In the middle of nowhere
How can you let it die?
In the middle of nowhere
Are you gonna leave me
And leave my heart astray
Im in the middle of nowhere
Come and show me the way
Hey, where does out love lie?
Come on now
Where does our love lie?
Right slap in the middle of nowhere
Right slap in the middle of nowhere
Right slap in the middle of nowhere

song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Blooded Woman

Blue blooded womans
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
The lady I love loves silk and satin
She was raised uptown with a silver spoon
Well, I was born on a farm just south of jackson
We had an old ford tractor and a country moon
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
Shes saks fifth avenue perfection
Caviar and dignified
Well, I live my life in wal mart fashion
And I like my sushi southern fried
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
She loves a violin, I love a fiddle
We go separate ways but we meet in the middle
Dont see eye to eye but were hand in hand
A blue blooded woman and a redneck man
Shes a blue blooded woman, Im a redneck man.

song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bop 'Til You Drop

Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop

No matter what
You just can't stop
Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop

Stick'em up
Give me your money
You act like a big shot
But you're really a dummy
They want your blood
They want every drop

Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop
Hey!

You tried and tried
But you're a flop
You're thirty five
Still pushing a mop
No time to cop
Do the cretin hop
Bop 'til you drop
Bop 'til you drop

song performed by by Ramones from Halfway To Sanity
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Drop Out

Am I to face these lonely halls alone
And when you leave, who's gonna walk me home
Cause when you walk out the door I won't see you no more
And you're the one I adore so baby
Chorus:
Don't drop out of my life, baby, don't be a fool
(Don't drop out, baby, don't drop out now)
You're old enough to know you're too young to face the world so cruel
(Don't drop out, baby, don't drop out now)
You're not prepared to do anything
So if you wanna buy me that diamond ring, well
Don't drop out of my life, baby, don't drop out
My parents say you're lazy but you can be smart if you try
And I know you've got a heart cause you've never ever made me cry
They say you're no good so baby do what you should
And stay here by my side oh darlin'
Repeat Chorus
(Don't drop out, baby, don't drop out now)
Don't drop out of my life
Baby, don't drop out
(Don't drop out, baby, don't drop out now)

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Stone In The Middle Of The Road

a stone in the middle of the road
will always be a stone in the middle of the road
despite
the fact that you are reading
a comic book
whatever content you have in there
a stone will always be a stone in the middle of the road
today, tomorrow
and thereafter.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Armful

For every parcel I stoop down to seize
I lose some other off my arms and knees,
And the whole pile is slipping, bottles, buns --
Extremes too hard to comprehend at once,
Yet nothing I should care to leave behind.
With all I have to hold with hand and mind
And heart, if need be, I will do my best
To keep their building balanced at my breast.
I crouch down to prevent them as they fall;
Then sit down in the middle of them all.
I had to drop the armful in the road
And try to stack them in a better load.

poem by Robert Frost
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Itching Heels

FU' de peace o' my eachin' heels, set down;
Don' fiddle dat chune no mo'.
Don' you see how dat melody stuhs me up
An' baigs me to tek to de flo'?
You knows I's a Christian, good an' strong;
I wusship f'om June to June;
My pra'ahs dey ah loud an' my hymns ah long:
I baig you don' fiddle dat chune.
I's a crick in my back an' a misery hyeah
Whaih de j'ints's gittin' ol' an' stiff,
But hit seems lak you brings me de bref o' my youf;
W'y, I's suttain I noticed a w'iff.
Don' fiddle dat chune no mo', my chile,
Don' fiddle dat chune no mo';
I'll git up an' taih up dis groun' fu' a mile,
An' den I'll be chu'ched fu' it, sho'.
Oh, fiddle dat chune some mo', I say,
An' fiddle it loud an' fas':
I's a youngstah ergin in de mi'st o' my sin;
De p'esent's gone back to de pas'.
I'll dance to dat chune, so des fiddle erway;
I knows how de backslidah feels;
So fiddle it on 'twell de break o' de day
Fu' de sake o' my eachin' heels.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Muse Is Free

I swim in the glimmers on the rivers muse
There I muse of love and love muse of me
In muse is ecstasy
my muse is free.
I lay by the brook, the muse's brook
And thirsty, I get up, to get a little drink
When I look, I see, I think
A beautiful Muse and my heart is shook
I dwell in a soul, a soulful muse
And to its harmony my soul withdrew
To the trumpets of muse the song of blue
My soul a muse, I always knew
I smell the odor, of muse's incense
In its torpor my body sleeps in my soul
And I smoke the smoke of muse intense
I laugh at myself amusingly droll
With my muse's nymphs we love in Hellas
Naked and free in the republic
Of beauty and art of love's Bellas
We love to we're entirely love sick.
My muse is free from the Devil's temptation
My Muse is free from God's judgment
My Muse is my only wordly nation
My Muse is a dream, I live, I lament

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bop til You Drop

Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
No matter what you just cant stop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
Stickem up give me your money
You act like a big shot but youre really a dummy
They want your blood they want every drop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop
Hey!
You tried and tried but youre a flop
Youre thirty five still pushing a mop
No time to cop do the cretin hop
Bop til you drop
Bop til you drop

song performed by by Ramones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mister Fix It

I need to be there.
And not subject myself to riddles.
Just be there,
And put to rest...
My need to split!

I...
Need,
To be there!
And not subject myself to riddles.
Or feel I'm in the middle of something misfit!

I need to be there.
And not subject myself to riddles.
Just be there,
And put to rest...
My need to split!

I...
Need,
To be there!
And not subject myself to riddles.
Or feel I'm in the middle of something misfit!

Whenever I am called to play Mister Fix-It...
I need to be there.
To give time to it.

Whenever I am called to play Mister Fix-It...
I need to be there.
To give time to it.

I've never give up on a love,
I could not keep before we split.
It seems as if we've gotten use to getting a bit!
I need to be there.

Never give up on loving it,
Once a week.
Just...
To keep it secret!

B-b-b-be there.
And not subject myself to riddles.
Just be there,
And put to rest...
My need to split!

Just be there,
Whenever I am called to play Fix-It Quick.
I need to be there,
To give time to it.

Just be there,
And not subject myself to riddles.
Or feel I'm in the middle of something misfit!

Whenever I am called to play Mister Fix-It...
I need to be there.
To give time to it.

Just be there,
And not subject myself to riddles.
Just be there,
And not subject myself to riddles.
Or feel I'm in the middle of something misfit!
Whenever I am called to play Fix-It Quick.
I need to be there.
To give time to it.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Quiescent

The feat,
Your feet,
Quizzical!
But the quiescent of this muse is from the eating.

Quiescent, tin, tins, in, it, is, queen, queens, sue, teen;
And like a dead bird on the road,
But the quiescent of your muse is in the making.

Quiescent, sent, scent, set, sit, quiet, quest, quite, teens;
And like a dead cat on the road,
But, you have to appease your friend with the muse of love.

Quiescent, cent, ten, net, nets, see, seen, tie, ties, nest, use;
And like a dead dog on the road,
But you need love to carry on this mission.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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