The Wandering Pilgrim
Will Piggot must to Coxwould go,
To live, alas! in want,
Unless Sir Thomas say, No, no,
Th' allowance is too scant.
The gracious knight full well does weet
Ten farthings ne'er will do
To keep a man each day in meat;
Some bread to meat is due.
A Rechabite poor Will must live,
And drink of Adam's ale;
Pure element no life can give,
Or mortal soul regale.
Spare diet and spring-water clear
Physicians hold are good:
Who diets thus need never fear
A fever in the blood.
Gramercy, Sirs, ye're in the right;
Prescriptions all can sell,
But he that does not eat can't sh*
Or piss if good drink fail.
But pass - The AEsculapian crew,
Who eat and quaff the best,
They seldom miss to bake and brew,
Or lin to break their fast.
Could Yorkshire tyke but do the same,
Then he like them might thrive;
But Fortune, Fortune, cruel Dame,
To starve thou dost him drive.
In Will's old master's plenteous days
His memory e'er be bless'd,
What need of speaking in his praise?
His goodness stands confess'd.
At his famed gate stood Charity
In lovely sweet array;
Ceres and Hospitality
Dwelt there both night and day.
But to conclude, and be concise,
Truth must Will's voucher be;
Truth never yet went in disguise,
For naked still is she.
There is but one, but one alone,
Can set the pilgrim free,
And make him cease to pine and moan
O Frankland, it is thee.
Oh! save him from a dreary way;
To Coxwould he must hie,
Bereft of thee he wends astray,
At Coxwould he must die.
Oh! let him in thy hall but stand,
And wear a porter's gown,
Duteous to what thou may'st command,
Thus William's wishes crown.
poem by Matthew Prior
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Related quotes
Gracious Good Shepherd
Gracious good shepherd
Do you really know who I am?
Gracious good shepherd
Will you answer when I call your name?
Gracious good shepherd
You can hear confusion crying out
Gracious good shepherd
What little faith I have I am ashamed
I visualize an angel
All freezing and bitter cold
I cannot believe the love there
What heavenly sacrifice
Gracious good shepherd
If you hear me now, I love you so
Gracious good shepherd
Why for me?
Gracious good shepherd
You say you love the lost born
Gracious good shepherd
I believe that one is me
Some tell me the virgin birth is
A beautiful ancient tale
But you tell me gods constellation
Led all to the living well
Gracious good shepherd
If you hear me now, I love you so
Gracious good shepherd
Why, why for me?
Gracious good shepherd
Do you really know who I am?
Gracious good shepherd
Will you answer when I call your name?
Gracious good shepherd
These are different times, Im sure you see
Gracious good shepherd
We need, you now
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Knight Whose Armour Didn't Squeak
Of all the Knights in Appledore
The wisest was Sir Thomas Tom.
He multiplied as far as four,
And knew what nine was taken from
To make eleven. He could write
A letter to another Knight.
No other Knight in all the land
Could do the things which he could do.
Not only did he understand
The way to polish swords, but knew
What remedy a Knight should seek
Whose armour had begun to squeak.
And, if he didn't fight too much,
It wasn't that he didn't care
For blips and buffetings and such,
But felt that it was hardly fair
To risk, by frequent injuries,
A brain as delicate as his.
His castle (Castle Tom) was set
Conveniently on a hill;
And daily, when it wasn't wet,
He paced the battlements until
Some smaller Knight who couldn't swim
Should reach the moat and challenge him.
Or sometimes, feeling full of fight,
He hurried out to scour the plain,
And, seeing some approaching Knight,
He either hurried home again,
Or hid; and, when the foe was past,
Blew a triumphant trumpet-blast.
One day when good Sir Thomas Tom
Was resting in a handy ditch,
The noises he was hiding from,
Though very much the noises which
He'd always hidden from before,
Seemed somehow less....Or was it more?
The trotting horse, the trumpet's blast,
The whistling sword, the armour's squeak,
These, and especially the last,
Had clattered by him all the week.
Was this the same, or was it not?
Something was different. But what?
Sir Thomas raised a cautious ear
And listened as Sir Hugh went by,
And suddenly he seemed to hear
(Or not to hear) the reason why
This stranger made a nicer sound
Than other Knights who lived around.
Sir Thomas watched the way he went -
His rage was such he couldn't speak,
For years they'd called him down in Kent
The Knight Whose Armour Didn't Squeak!
Yet here and now he looked upon
Another Knight whose squeak had gone.
He rushed to where his horse was tied;
He spurred it to a rapid trot.
The only fear he felt inside
About his enemy was not
'How sharp his sword?' 'How stout his heart?'
But 'Has he got too long a start?'
Sir Hugh was singing, hand on hip,
When something sudden came along,
And caught him a terrific blip
Right in the middle of his song.
'A thunderstorm!' he thought. 'Of course!'
And toppled gently off his horse.
Then said the good Sir Thomas Tom,
Dismounting with a friendly air,
'Allow me to extract you from
The heavy armour that you wear.
At times like these the bravest Knight
May find his armour much too tight.'
A hundred yards or so beyond
The scene of brave Sir Hugh's defeat
Sir Thomas found a useful pond,
And, careful not to wet his feet,
He brought the armour to the brink,
And flung it in...and watched it sink.
So ever after, more and more,
The men of Kent would proudly speak
Of Thomas Tom of Appledore,
'The Knight Whose Armour Didn't Squeak.'
Whilst Hugh, the Knight who gave him best,
Squeaks just as badly as the rest.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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Study until twenty-five, investigation until forty, profession until sixty, at which age I would have him retired on a double allowance.
quote by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Will You Give Me For My Pound?
What will you give me for my pound?
Full twenty shillings round.
What will you give me for my shilling?
Twelve pence to give I'm willing.
What will you give me for my penny?
Four farthings, just so many.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Daily Allowance
Give me the daily allowance on this love and,
Let me treat myself for twelve moons on a beauty regimen;
Because i waited for three days before i met you.
A silent prayer of love,
And each man is with his weapon of love in the hand;
But my daily allowance is needed on this issue because,
I am the girl behind the mirror hanging on the wall.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Kwelfestijn
Mij kwelt een
eeuwig kwelfestijn
van kleine geesten
die vol van zichzelf zijn
en al hun kweesten.
Beteuterd, betoeterd en beklad
zo noemt men dat
als men niet weet
waaraf of waaraan,
waarom en wanneer?
Je weet het niet meer
confuus van de kwellende
hellende, bijtende zweer
die je naar de keel grijpt,
knijpt en drukt te neer.
Nee, nee, nee
genoeg is
genoeg is
genoeg.
22-082012 Madrason
poem by Madrason writer
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Reasoned arguments and suggestions which make allowance for the full difficulties of the state of war that exists may help, and will always be listened to with respect and sympathy.
quote by Stafford Cripps
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The chess board is the world, the pieces are the phenomena of the universe, the rules of the game are what we call the laws of Nature. The player on the other side is hidden from us. We know that his play is always fair, just, and patient. But we also know, to our cost, that he never overlooks a mistake, or makes the smallest allowance for ignorance.
quote by Thomas H. Huxley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Story
They met each other in the glade –
She lifted up her eyes;
Alack the day! Alack the maid!
She blushed in swift surprise.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from lifting up the eyes.
The pail was full, the path was steep –
He reached to her his hand;
She felt her warm young pulses leap,
But did not understand.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from clasping hand with hand.
She sat beside him in the wood –
He wooed with words and sighs;
Ah! love in spring seems sweet and good,
And maidens are not wise.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from listing lovers’ sighs.
The summer sun shone fairly down,
The wind blew from the south;
As his blue eyes gazed in eyes of brown,
His kiss fell on her mouth.
Alas! Alas! the woe that comes from kisses on the mouth.
And now the autumn time is near,
The lover roves away,
With breaking heart and falling tear,
She sits the livelong day.
Alas! Alas! for breaking hearts when lovers rove away.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Alas, Love, Alas
And now i'm dismissed
I don't know what the love is
If there always will be tears
And the souls never will find the peace
Why the lovers had became so cruel and insensible
Who can bear all these
Are these the new rules of the love?
Even the love changed it's face
Alas, love, Alas
If the humanity's cruelty
Even changed your face
Nothing in this world will stay the same
Alas, world, Alas
Step back my soul
let's live in peace alone
While the meaning of real love is missed
How the world can be so unreal
Even the love changed it's face
Alas, Love, Alas
If the Humanity's cruelty
Even changed your face
Alas, world, Alas
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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The Lady, the Knight, and the Friar
THE LADY.
O cavalier! what dost thou here,
Thy tuneful vigils keeping;
While the northern star looks cold from far
And half the world is sleeping?
THE KNIGHT.
O lady! here, for seven long year,
Have I been nightly sighing,
Without the hope of a single tear
To pity me were I dying.
THE LADY.
Should I take thee to have and to hold,
Who hast nor lands nor money?
Alas! 'tis only in flowers of gold
That married bees flnd honey.
THE KNIGHT.
O lady fair! to my constant prayer
Fate proves at last propitious;
And bags of gold in my hand I bear,
And parchment scrolls delicious.
THE LADY.
My maid the door shall open throw,
For we too long have tarried:
The friar keeps watch in the cellar below,
And we will at once be married.
THE FRIAR.
My children! great is Fortune's power;
And plain this truth appears,
That gold thrives more in a single hour,
Than love in seven long years.
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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Book Of Contemplation - For Woman
FOR woman due allowance make!
Form'd of a crooked rib was she,--
By Heaven she could not straightened be.
Attempt to bend her, and she'll break;
If left alone, more crooked grows madam;
What well could be worse, my good friend, Adam?--
For woman due allowance make;
'Twere grievous, if thy rib should break!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Alas! Alas! Life is full of disappointments; as one reaches one ridge there is always another and a higher one beyond which blocks the view.
quote by Fridtjof Nansen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As Long As We Both Shall Live
A light, shining in the distance reveals, at last, it's source-
Allowed shall it be to luminesce over life's course!
Brightening the path that led to our lives intersection,
Defining what is the essence of our diaphanous connection!
Walk with me slowly, by my side, do not waiver-
These are the times that always we shall savor:
Be first for me my friend and my confidant,
Nary shall between we two come detriment!
Ever patient and always true, this I do, to thee, swear solemnly:
That my love, without bounds, is proffered to thee openly!
Alas, as I look to the future that we shall share,
Allowance must be made to reflect upon it all, with care!
Our future as we build upon our amitive,
Grows ever more lucent, and shall, for as long as we both shall live!
Maurice Harris,12 October 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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My Knight
Stand tall my Knight for you are my weakness,
You have my heart in your hands.
When you look at me my heart has life.
Because, of your sweet and gentle touch.
I believe in your love!
I have no fear, for you are my Knight.
The way you protect me, puts my soul at ease.
The passion that you share
takes my breath away!
The way you care amazes me.
There's nothing I could ever do to hurt you.
Because, you are my destiny!
Why has the Lord showed mercy on me?
To give me a love, I've only dreamed of.
You fill my nights with a full moon,
Exciting every part of my being
And you put stars in my eyes!
Am I dreaming? Tell me now!
Stand tall my Knight, my soul longs for you.
poem by Carlene Maddux
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A Knight's Meeting
splash splash, the waves came onto the shore
the knight on horseback, rode toward the maiden
oh the vision was so lovely and the sea so blue
across the golden sand he rode
big fluffy clouds floated across the evening sky
the full moon was just now, coming into view
could any scene be more lovely
the knight was mesmerized
the closer he came to the maiden, the more so-
who was this lovely maiden, by the aqua blue sea
when his horse drew near, 'whoa' he cried,
he saw the beauty and was unable to speak
for the first time ever in his life
the knight was speechless, lost in a trance
poem by Rachel Nichols
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The Quest
Once upon a time a princess
was in distress
in a beautiful country
called Ireland
the handsome knight came
to impress
and to win the
princess hand
the knight set off
on the quest
to return the pot of gold at the
end of the rainbow
as the beautiful princess
had request
the brave knight was
eager to begin
everyone had faith in the knight
for he was the champion
this quest he was determined
to win
there were quite a few mean trolls
taking a stand
the whole kingdom was
in an uproar
they came from England to
take over the land
the knight set out on a
path of danger
flying overhead was a great dragon
keeping an eye on the unicorn
things couldn't get
much stranger
the knight met with the fairies
who came up with a plan
to buy the magic wand from the
leprechaun if he can
in an instant the rainbow
did appear
the brave knight returned the pot of
gold to his princess
and everyone in the kingdom
gave a great cheer
poem by Rachel Nichols
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The word knight, which originally meant boy or servant, was particularly applied to a young man after he was admitted to the privilege of bearing arms.
quote by Thomas Bulfinch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ay Me, Ay Me, I Sigh the Scythe A-field
Ay me, ay me, I sigh to see the scythe a-field;
Down goeth the grass, soon wrought to wither'd hay:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that beauty needs must yield,
And princes pass, as grass doth fade away.
Ay me, ay me, that life can not have lasting leave,
Nor gold take hold of everlasting joy:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that time hath talents to receive,
And yet no time can make a suer stay.
Ay me, ay me, that wit can not have wished choice,
Nor wish can win that will desires to see:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that mirth can promise no rejoice,
Nor study tell what afterward shall be.
Ay me, ay me, that no sure staff is given to age,
Nor age can give sure wit that youth will take:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, that no counsel wise and sage
Will shun the show that all doth mar and make.
Ay me, ay me, come, Time, shear on and shake thy hay,
It is no boot to balk thy bitter blows:
Ay me, alas! ay me, alas, come, Time, take everything away,
For all is thine, be it good or bad, that grows.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Life I Live
The life I live
Is so real
The life I live
Seems like a big deal
The life I live
Is full of pain
Form the cradle
To the grave
The life I live
Is full of sorrow
And will always be seeking
A better tomorrow
The life I live
Waiting for to be great
Will get better
On a latter date
The life I have
Was given to me
The life I live
Is as true as can be
poem by Destiny Avaritia
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