Contentment
"Man wants but little here below."
LITTLE I ask; my wants are few;
I only wish a hut of stone,
(A very plain brown stone will do,)
That I may call my own;
And close at hand is such a one,
In yonder street that fronts the sun.
Plain food is quite enough for me;
Three courses are as good as ten;--
If Nature can subsist on three,
Thank Heaven for three. Amen!
I always thought cold victual nice;--
My choice would be vanilla-ice.
I care not much for gold or land;--
Give me a mortgage here and there,--
Some good bank-stock, some note of hand,
Or trifling railroad share,--
I only ask that Fortune send
A little more than I shall spend.
Honors are silly toys, I know,
And titles are but empty names;
I would, perhaps, be Plenipo,--
But only near St. James;
I'm very sure I should not care
To fill our Gubernator's chair.
Jewels are baubles; 't is a sin
To care for such unfruitful things;--
One good-sized diamond in a pin,--
Some, not so large, in rings,--
A ruby, and a pearl, or so,
Will do for me;--I laugh at show.
My dame should dress in cheap attire;
(Good, heavy silks are never dear;) -
I own perhaps I might desire
Some shawls of true Cashmere,--
Some marrowy crapes of China silk,
Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk.
I would not have the horse I drive
So fast that folks must stop and stare;
An easy gait--two forty-five--
Suits me; I do not care;--
Perhaps, for just a single spurt,
Some seconds less would do no hurt.
Of pictures, I should like to own
Titians aud Raphaels three or four,--
I love so much their style and tone,
One Turner, and no more,
(A landscape,--foreground golden dirt,--
The sunshine painted with a squirt.)
Of books but few,--some fifty score
For daily use, and bound for wear;
The rest upon an upper floor;--
Some little luxury there
Of red morocco's gilded gleam
And vellum rich as country cream.
Busts, cameos, gems,--such things as these,
Which others often show for pride,
I value for their power to please,
And selfish churls deride;--
One Stradivarius, I confess,
Two Meerschaums, I would fain possess.
Wealth's wasteful tricks I will not learn,
Nor ape the glittering upstart fool;--
Shall not carved tables serve my turn,
But all must be of buhl?
Give grasping pomp its double share,--
I ask but one recumbent chair.
Thus humble let me live and die,
Nor long for Midas' golden touch;
If Heaven more generous gifts deny,
I shall not miss them much,--
Too grateful for the blessing lent
Of simple tastes and mind content!
poem by Oliver Wendell Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
One Good Reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Like a thief youve stolen
Like rain on a grave
Like a priest whos spoken
But failed to save
Now the air is empty
And the ground the same
Love has gone to be buried
Beside my name
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Why couldnt you have told me
About your liars kiss
I cant believe youd leave me
At a time like this
And the wind is howling
And its a dying dream
And my faith is silent
While my doubts scream
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
And Ill be there
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
Give me one good reason
That I should care
song performed by by Eagle Eye Cherry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Wishing-Caps
Life's all getting and giving,
I've only myself to give.
What shall I do for a living?
I've only one life to live.
End it? I'll not find another.
Spend it? But how shall I best?
Sure the wise plan is to live like a man
And Luck may look after the rest!
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
Give or hold at your will.
If I've no care for Fortune,
Fortune must follow me still.
Bad Luck, she is never a lady
But the commonest wench on the street,
Shuffling, shabby and shady,
Shameless to pass or meet.
Walk with her once--it's a weakness!
Talk to her twice. It's a crime!
Thrust her away when she gives you "good day"
And the besom won't board you next time.
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
What is Your Ladyship's mood?
If I have no care for Fortune,
My Fortune is bound to be good!
Good Luck she is never a lady
But the cursedest quean alive!
Tricksy, wincing and jady,
Kittle to lead or drive.
Greet her--she's hailing a stranger!
Meet her--she's busking to leave.
Let her alone for a shrew to the bone,
And the hussy comes plucking your sleeve!
Largesse! Largesse, Fortune!
I'll neither follow nor flee.
If I don't run after Fortune,
Fortune must run after me!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Take Good Care Of Her
(words & music by warren - kent)
Take good care of her, take good care of her
I suppose I ought to say congratulations
For you won the only girl I ever loved
But I hurt too much to face the situation
Just take good care of her, take good care of her
Just to be around her was my greatest pleasure
She was everything my future held in store
So remember when you take my only treasure
Just take good care of her, take good care of her
I must accept it, she loves you more than me
So with my broken heart Ill bow out gracefully
Please dont send me any wedding invitation
For I couldnt bear to see her there with you
If shes happy, that will be my consolation
Just take good care of her, take good care of her
Take good care of her, take good care of her
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Airtalk
One, two, three, four, five, six.
Its sad that air is the only thing we share,
No matter how close we are theres always air between us.
Its also nice that airs something we all share,
No matter how far apart we are an air links us.
Its sad that past is something we can never share,
No matter how close we are the past is between us.
But its also nice that without the past
Wed have never known each other,
No matter how far apart we are it brought us together.
Yes, its very nice to have someone to share,
Theres something very nice to have someone to care.
We may not share our past but we have our future to share.
Its sad that life is such a heavy thing to bear,
No matter how close we are its easy to despair.
Its also nice that you and I know its what we all share,
No matter how far apart we are we can learn to care.
Theres something very nice to have something to share,
Theres something very nice to have someone to care.
We may not share our bodies but we have our minds to share.
Yes, theres something very nice to have something to care,
Theres something very nice to have someone to share.
We may not share our language but we have the world to share.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Airtalk
One, two, three, four, five, six.
Its sad that air is the only thing we share,
No matter how close we are theres always air between us.
Its also nice that airs something we all share,
No matter how far apart we are an air links us.
Its sad that past is something we can never share,
No matter how close we are the past is between us.
But its also nice that without the past
Wed have never known each other,
No matter how far apart we are it brought us together.
Yes, its very nice to have someone to share,
Theres something very nice to have someone to care.
We may not share our past but we have our future to share.
Its sad that life is such a heavy thing to bear,
No matter how close we are its easy to despair.
Its also nice that you and I know its what we all share,
No matter how far apart we are we can learn to care.
Theres something very nice to have something to share,
Theres something very nice to have someone to care.
We may not share our bodies but we have our minds to share.
Yes, theres something very nice to have something to care,
Theres something very nice to have someone to share.
We may not share our language but we have the world to share.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good-Children Street
There's a dear little home in Good-Children street -
My heart turneth fondly to-day
Where tinkle of tongues and patter of feet
Make sweetest of music at play;
Where the sunshine of love illumines each face
And warms every heart in that old-fashioned place.
For dear little children go romping about
With dollies and tin tops and drums,
And, my! how they frolic and scamper and shout
Till bedtime too speedily comes!
Oh, days they are golden and days they are fleet
With little folk living in Good-Children street.
See, here comes an army with guns painted red,
And swords, caps, and plumes of all sorts;
The captain rides gaily and proudly ahead
On a stick-horse that prances and snorts!
Oh, legions of soldiers you're certain to meet -
Nice make-believe soldiers - in Good-Children street.
And yonder Odette wheels her dolly about -
Poor dolly! I'm sure she is ill,
For one of her blue china eyes has dropped out
And her voice is asthmatic'ly shrill.
Then, too, I observe she is minus her feet,
Which causes much sorrow in Good-Children street.
'T is so the dear children go romping about
With dollies and banners and drums,
And I venture to say they are sadly put out
When an end to their jubilee comes:
Oh, days they are golden and days they are fleet
With little folk living in Good-Children street!
But when falleth night over river and town,
Those little folk vanish from sight,
And an angel all white from the sky cometh down
And guardeth the babes through the night,
And singeth her lullabies tender and sweet
To the dear little people in Good-Children Street.
Though elsewhere the world be o'erburdened with care,
Though poverty fall to my lot,
Though toil and vexation be always my share,
What care I - they trouble me not!
This thought maketh life ever joyous and Sweet:
There's a dear little home in Good-Children street.
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song I
Lordly gallants! tell me this
(Though my safe content you weigh not),
In your greatness, what one bliss
Have you gained, that I enjoy not?
You have honours, you have wealth;
I have peace, and I have health:
All the day I merry make,
And at night no care I take.
Bound to none my fortunes be,
This or that man's fall I fear not;
Him I love that loveth me,
For the rest a pin I care not.
You are sad when others chaff,
And grow merry as they laugh;
I that hate it, and am free,
Laugh and weep as pleaseth me.
You may boast of favours shown,
Where your service is applied:
But my pleasures are mine own,
And to no man's humour tied.
You oft flatter, sooth, and feign;
I such baseness do disdain;
And to none be slave I would,
Though my fetters might be gold.
By great titles, some believe,
Highest honours are attained;
And yet kings have power to give
To their fools, what these have gained.
Where they favour there they may
All their names of honour lay;
But I look not raised to be,
'Till mine own wing carry me.
Seek to raise your titles higher;
They are toys not worth my sorrow;
Those that we to-day admire,
Prove the age's scorn to-morrow.
Take your honours; let me find
Virtue in a free born mind--
This, the greatest kings that be
Cannot give, nor take from me.
Though I vainly do not vaunt
Large demesnes, to feed my pleasure;
I have favours where you want,
That would buy respect with treasure.
You have lands lie here and there,
But my wealth is everywhere;
And this addeth to my store--
Fortune cannot make me poor.
Say you purchase with your pelf
Some respect, where you importune;
Those may love me for myself,
That regard you for your fortune.
Rich or born of high degree,
Fools as well as you may be;
But that peace in which I live
No descent nor wealth can give.
If you boast that you may gain
The respect of high-born beauties;
Know I never wooed in vain,
Nor preferrèd scornèd duties.
She I love hath all delight,
Rosy-red with lily-white,
And whoe'er your mistress be,
Flesh and blood as good as she.
Note of me was never took,
For my woman-like perfections;
But so like a man I look,
It hath gained me best affections.
For my love as many showers
Have been wept as have for yours:
And yet none doth me condemn
For abuse, or scorning them.
Though of dainties you have store,
To delight a choicer palate,
Yet your taste is pleased no more
Than is mine in one poor sallet.
You to please your senses feed
But I eat good blood to breed;
And am most delighted then
When I spend it like a man.
Though you lord it over me,
You in vain thereof have braved;
For those lusts my servants be
Whereunto your minds are slaved.
To yourselves you wise appear,
But, alas! deceived you are;
You do foolish me esteem,
And are that which I do seem.
When your faults I open lay,
You are moved, and mad with vexing;
But you ne'er could do or say
Aught to drive me to perplexing.
Therefore, my despisèd power
Greater is, by far, than your.
And, whate'er you think of me,
In your minds you poorer be.
You are pleasèd, more or less,
As men well or ill report you;
And show discontentedness,
When the times forbear to court you.
That in which my pleasures be,
No man can divide from me;
And my care it adds not to,
Whatso others say or do.
Be not proud, because you view
You by thousands are attended;
For, alas! it is not you,
But your fortune that's befriended.
Where I show of love have got,
Such a danger fear I not:
Since they nought can seek of me,
But for love, beloved to be.
When your hearts have everything,
You are pleasantly disposed:
But I can both laugh and sing,
Though my foes have me enclosed.
Yea, when dangers me do hem,
I delight in scorning them,
More than you in your renown,
Or a king can in his crown.
You do bravely domineer,
Whilst the sun upon you shineth:
Yet, if any storm appear,
Basely, then, your mind declineth.
But, or shine, or rain, or blow,
I my resolutions know--
Living, dying, thrall, or free,
At one height my mind shall be.
When in thraldom I have lain,
Me not worth your thought you prized;
But your malice was in vain,
For your favours I despised.
And, howe'er you value me,
I with praise shall thought on be
When the world esteems you not
And your names shall be forgot.
In these thoughts my riches are;
Now, though poor or mean you deem me,
I am pleased, and do not care
How the times or you esteem me.
For those toys that make you gay
Are but play-games for a day:
And when nature craves her due,
I as brave shall be as you.
poem by George Wither
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Just Wanna Live
I Just Wanna Live
I need an a-larm system in my house
So I know when people are
Creeping about
These people are
Freaking me out
(these days)
It's getting hectic everywhere that I go
They won't leave me alone
There's things they all wanna know
I'm paranoid off all the people I meet
Why are they talking to me?
And why can't anyone see
I just wanna live
Don't really care about the things that they say
Don't really care about what happens to me
I just wanna live
Just wanna live [x6]
I rock a
Lawsuit when I'm going to court
A white suit when I'm gettin' divorced
A black suit at the funeral home
And my birthday suit when I'm home alone
Talkin' on the phone
Got an interview
With the rolling stone
They're saying
Now you're rich and
Now you're famous
fake ass girls all know your names and
Lifestyles of the rich and famous
your first hit aren't you a-shamed?
Of the life [x2]
Of the life you're livin'
I just wanna live
Don't really care about the things that they say
Don't really care about what happens to me
I just wanna live
Stop your messin' around boy
Better think a your future
Better make some good plans boy
Said everyone of my teachers
Lookout
You better play it safe
You never know what hard times will come your way
We say
Where we're coming from
We've already seen
The worst that this life can bring
Now we're expected everywhere that we go
All the things that they say
Yeah we already know
I just wanna live
Don't really care about the things that they say
Don't really care about what happens to me
Just wanna live [x3]
I just wanna live
Just wanna live [x3]
I just wanna live
Just wanna live [x3]
Don't really care about the things that they say
Just wanna live [x3]
Don't really care about what happens to me
I just wanna live
song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Greediness of Some People
Take Take Take
That's all our people do
Take Take Take and never give
They only wish to receive
Don't care about who their hurtin
Dont care about who their affecting
Whether it be innocent kids or families
Whether they be ill and homeless
No only think about themselves and how they can 'help' themselves
It makes me sick to my stomach watchin them grab and take
The finickiest and how they just want want, want
Isn’t it good enough that they get anything
Isn’t what matters that you were thought about
N of course not it's always what they have and how they can get more of it
Instead of overflowing with joy, happiness and generosity
They're overflowing with greed and not caring about anyone but themselves
They steal and take what doesn’t belong to them
They eat and eat away at the hearts of those that care
They hurt innocent people and show their true colors
Show what really matters to them
This is the example that they give to their young
This is what the world has become
Survival of the fittest, yeah that's what they'll call it
When really their just being selfish and greedy
Biting off more than they can chew
They’ll get what’s coming to them
God sees all and though he may not act now he will in his own time
I just hope that it happens sooner rather than later
Before even more hearts are broken and even more people are hurt
Not everyone deserves such harsh and unfair treatment and it's obvious that the greed of today’s society is what outnumbers the good
Generosity will always go far but somehow the selfishness always out numbers the generous
poem by Candice George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love Dont Love You
Chorus:
Love dont love you, love dont care
Love dont love you, love dont care
Verse 1:
You said youd always be there
You said youd always care
You always comfort me
You used to share things with me
You used to have time for me
Now it all seemed to end
I cant control my fears
Neither hold back tears
Knowing that somethings wrong, yeah
The more that I fight with you
The more I realize
It takes more than love
To satisfy my life
Chorus:
Love dont love you, love dont care (its got to be you, baby)
Love dont love you, love dont care (not love, baby)
Verse 2:
I thought I never would see
The day that you and me
Could not communicate
It came to my surprise
The only reason why
We misused the four-letter words
I should have known the signs
Instead I was blind
Ignoring what people would say
When will I ever learn
Cant blame it all on one word
Some words can seem more brutal than kind
Chorus:
Love dont love you, love dont care (love dont love you)
Love dont love you, love dont care (got to be you)
Love dont love you (love dont care about you, no way, no way, no way)
Love dont care no way
Bridge:
You see it takes a fool to learn
That love dont love nobody (got to be you)
But Ive learned
That love dont love me
And it sure cant love you (can only be you, oh)
So what are you gonna do
Dont just say you love me (baby)
You got to show me (show me that you care)
So where do we go from here
You tell me
You got to show me that you love me
Show me that you care
I need to know that you will always be there
Im gonna be there for you
Love dont love no one
And it sure dont care
Love dont love nobody
You should take my advice
Show me that you love me
Show me that you care, baby
Chorus:
Love dont love you, love dont care
Love dont love you, love dont care
(repeat chorus)
song performed by by En Vogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little miss brag
Little Miss Brag has much to say
To the rich little lady from over the way
And the rich little lady puts out a lip
As she looks at her own white, dainty slip,
And wishes that she could wear a gown
As pretty as gingham of faded brown!
For little Miss Brag she lays much stress
On the privileges of a gingham dress -
"Aha,
Oho!"
The rich little lady from over the way
Has beautiful dolls in vast array;
Yet she envies the raggedy home-made doll
She hears our little Miss Brag extol.
For the raggedy doll can fear no hurt
From wet, or heat, or tumble, or dirt!
Her nose is inked, and her mouth is, too,
And one eye's black and the other's blue -
"Aha,
Oho!"
The rich little lady goes out to ride
With footmen standing up outside,
Yet wishes that, sometimes, after dark
Her father would trundle her in the park; -
That, sometimes, her mother would sing the things
Little Miss Brag says her mother sings
When through the attic window streams
The moonlight full of golden dreams -
"Aha,
Oho!"
Yes, little Miss Brag has much to say
To the rich little lady from over the way;
And yet who knows but from her heart
Often the bitter sighs upstart -
Uprise to lose their burn and sting
In the grace of the tongue that loves to sing
Praise of the treasures all its own!
So I've come to love that treble tone -
"Aha,
Oho!"
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Jolly Good Ale and Old
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I cannot eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good;
But sure I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care,
I am nothing a-cold;
I stuff my skin so full within
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I love no roast but a nutbrown toast,
And a crab laid in the fire;
A little bread shall do me stead,
Much bread I not desire.
No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow,
Can hurt me if I would,
I am so wrapt, and throughly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
And Tib my wife, that as her life
Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she, till ye may see
The tears run down her cheek.
Then doth she troll to me the bowl,
Even as a maltworm should;
And saith,"Sweetheart, I took my part
Of this jolly good ale and old."
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
Now let them drink, till they nod and wink,
Even as good fellows should do;
They shall not miss to have the bliss
Good ale doth bring men to.
And all poor souls that have scoured bowls,
Or have them lustily troll'd,
God save the lives of them and their wives,
Whether they be young or old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
poem by William Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back and Side go Bare
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I cannot eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good;
But sure I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care,
I am nothing a-cold;
I stuff my skin so full within
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I love no roast but a nutbrown toast,
And a crab laid in the fire;
A little bread shall do me stead,
Much bread I not desire.
No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow,
Can hurt me if I would,
I am so wrapt, and throughly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
And Tib my wife, that as her life
Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she, till ye may see
The tears run down her cheek.
Then doth she troll to me the bowl,
Even as a maltworm should;
And saith,"Sweetheart, I took my part
Of this jolly good ale and old."
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
Now let them drink, till they nod and wink,
Even as good fellows should do;
They shall not miss to have the bliss
Good ale doth bring men to.
And all poor souls that have scoured bowls,
Or have them lustily troll'd,
God save the lives of them and their wives,
Whether they be young or old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
poem by William Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Things!
It's never too late to do good things...
When those good things come,
To be done!
It should never be a decision made,
Whether to show gratitute...
Whenever an attitude,
Is moody when it comes.
Do it...
No one loses!
It's never too late to show someone there,
You think of them just because you care.
Thinking they will know what it is you feel...
Does little for the one,
Who believes no one is aware...
With feelings that are real.
'How could they,
When they aren't there shown or spoken? '
And it's always a good sign...
To release and let things go!
When doubt is removed,
And your mind has approved
The doing is true and it can be proposed.
Hesitation for you will seldom come to show!
Knowing for you that good is in the doing,
And pursuing it from head to toe...
Has you moving.,
Reaping as you sow.
It's never too late to do good things...
When those good things come,
To be done!
Always contemplate good things,
And good things you did...
Makes those good things done grow!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Vulgar Little Lady
"But, mamma, now, " said Charlotte, "pray, don't you believe
That I'm better than Jenny, my nurse?
Only see my red shoes, and the lace on my sleeve;
Her clothes are a thousand times worse.
"I ride in my coach, and have nothing to do,
And the country folks stare at me so;
And nobody dares to control me but you
Because I'm a lady, you know.
"Then, servants are vulgar, and I am genteel;
So really, 'tis out of the way,
To think that I should not be better a deal
Than maids, and such people as they. "
"Gentility, Charlotte," her mother replied,
"Belongs to no station or place;
And there's nothing so vulgar as folly and pride,
Though dress'd in red slippers and lace.
Not all the fine things that fine ladies possess
Should teach them the poor to despise;
For 'tis in good manners, and not in good dress,
That the truest gentility lies."
poem by Ann Taylor
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hero
Mother, let us imagine we are travelling, and passing through a
strange and dangerous country.
You are riding in a palanquin and I am trotting by you on a
red horse.
It is evening and the sun goes down. The waste of Joradighi
lies wan and grey before us. The land is desolate and barren.
You are frightened and thinking-"I know not where we have come
to."
I say to you, "Mother, do not be afraid."
The meadow is prickly with spiky grass, and through it runs
a narrow broken path.
There are no cattle to be seen in the wide field; they have
gone to their village stalls.
It grows dark and dim on the land and sky, and we cannot tell
where we are going.
Suddenly you call me and ask me in a whisper, "What light is
that near the bank?"
Just then there bursts out a fearful yell, and figures come
running towards us.
You sit crouched in your palanquin and repeat the names of the
gods in prayer.
The bearers, shaking in terror, hide themselves in the thorny
bush.
I shout to you, "Don't be afraid, mother. I am here."
With long sticks in their hands and hair all wild about their
heads, they come nearer and nearer.
I shout, "Have a care, you villains! One step more and you are
dead men."
They give another terrible yell and rush forward.
You clutch my hand and say, "Dear boy, for heaven's sake, keep
away from them."
I say, "Mother, just you watch me."
Then I spur my horse for a wild gallop, and my sword and
buckler clash against each other.
The fight becomes so fearful, mother, that it would give you
a cold shudder could you see it from your palanquin.
Many of them fly, and a great number are cut to pieces.
I know you are thinking, sitting all by yourself, that your
boy must be dead by this time.
But I come to you all stained with blood, and say,"Mother, the
fight is over now."
You come out and kiss me, pressing me to your heart, and you
say to yourself,
"I don't know what I should do if I hadn't my boy to escort
me."
A thousand useless things happen day after day, and why
couldn't such a thing come true by chance?
It would be like a story in a book.
My brother would say, "Is it possible? I always thought he was
so delicate!"
Our village people would all say in amazement, "Was it not
lucky that the boy was with his mother?"
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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Men Of Good Fortune
Men of good fortune
Often cause empires to fall
While men of poor beginnings
Often cant do anything at all
The rich son waits for his father to die
The poor just drink and cry
And me, I just dont care at all
Men of good fortune
Very often cant do a thing
While men of poor beginnings
Often can do anything
At heart they try to act like a man
Handle things the best way they can
They have no rich, daddy to fall back on
Men of good fortune
Often cause empires to fall
While men of poor beginnings
Often cant do anything at all
It takes money to make money they say
Look at the fords, but didnt they start that way
Anyway, it makes no difference to me
Men of good fortune
Often wish that they could die
While men of poor beginnings
Want what they have and to get it theyll die
All those great things that live has to give
They wanna have money and live
But me, I just dont care at all
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
Men of good fortune
Men of poor beginnings
...
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dad's a Millionaire
I wish you joy, my little ragged throng--
Your Dad's a millionaire!
The fortune's come, we've waited for so long,
And I'm a millionaire!
Come Will, come Bub--go buy some better shoes;
Come Liz, come Lu--go tell your Ma the news--
Though once poor, we're now as rich as Jews,
For I'm a millionaire.
Hurrah! hurrah! now give us a rousing song--
Good bye! good bye! to poverty, want and care;
The fortune's come, we've waited for so long,
And Dad's a millionaire!
Good news! I'll go a shopping--so I will,
For Dad's a millionaire!
And I must have a thousand dollar bill,
As Dad'a a millionaire!
Put on your duds, and you'll go with me Lu!
Come Bub, go call a carriage from the square;
We'll ride in style along the avenue,
For Dad's a millionaire.
Hip, hip, hooray! run up the striped flay--
My Dad's a millionaire!
This bless-ed day, I'll buy a trotting nag,
For Dad's a millionaire!
I vow, I'll smoke three-cent gigars no more!
Here, take them Bub, and pitch them out the door;
I'll have the best--the dearest in the store,
Now Dad's a millionaire.
So, wife, you think this house will never do
Now I'm a millionaire?
Well, I must build a mansion then for you,
As I'm a millionaire!
Though as for me, I think I should invest--
My whole pile in some mammoth farm out West,
Yet I can build, if you should think it best,
Since I'm a millionaire.
I'll tell you what! we'll give a party then,
As Dad's a millionaire!
And we'll invite none but the "upper ten,"
Since Dad's a millionaire!
I should be sure to find another beau,
For dukes and lords, and nobles would be there--
I've turn'd him off--the tailor's clerk, you know,
Now Dad's a millionaire.
poem by Henry Clay Work
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Cherry Pie
Hey
Yeah you
You had a dark, sexy vibe about ya
And a strange way you turn me on
The way you look said a lot about ya
As if you really didn't give a-unh!
I told myself not to fall for you
'Cause I can see that you don't follow rules
I should've just walked away
But your eyes were telling me to stay
Damn, why do the wild ones turn me on
Chorus:
It's like cherry pie, you can't deny it
Driving fast, you ought to try it
That's what it feels like
??? touch you everywhere
Breaking rules and didn't care
That's what it feels like
A real rebel kinda fella
The kind that I would never trust
I could read what your mind was thinking
It's like you still didn't give a-hey!
It's funny how those kind of guys
Have a way of getting what they want
And even good girls though they try
It's if they just can't stay away
Damn, why do the wild ones turn me on
It's like cherry pie, you can't deny it
Driving fast, you ought to try it
That's what it feels like
??? touch you everywhere
Breaking rules and didn't care
That's what it feels like
It's like cherry pie, you can't deny it
Driving fast, you ought to try it
That's what it feels like
??? touch you everywhere
Breaking rules and didn't care
That's what it feels like
I can be your cherry pie
And you can be my cream on top
I can be your cherry pie
And you can be my cream on top
Come on!
I can be your cherry pie
And you can be my cream on top
I can be your cherry pie
And you can be my cream on top
It's like cherry pie, you can't deny it
Driving fast, you ought to try it
That's what it feels like
??? touch you everywhere
Breaking rules and didn't care
That's what it feels like
song performed by by Jennifer Lopez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Minstrel
"WHAT tuneful strains salute mine ear
Without the castle walls?
Oh, let the song re-echo here,
Within our festal halls!"
Thus spake the king, the page out-hied;
The boy return'd; the monarch cried:
"Admit the old man yonder!"
"All hail, ye noble lords to-night!
All hail, ye beauteous dames!
Star placed by star! What heavenly sight!
Whoe'er can tell their names?
Within this glittering hall sublime,
Be closed, mine eyes! 'tis not the time
For me to feast my wonder."
The minstrel straightway closed his eyes,
And woke a thrilling tone;
The knights look'd on in knightly guise,
Fair looks tow'rd earth were thrown.
The monarch, ravish'd by the strain,
Bade them bring forth a golden chain,
To be his numbers' guerdon.
"The golden chain give not to me,
But give the chain to those
In whose bold face we shiver'd see
The lances of our foes.
Or give it to thy chancellor there;
With other burdens he may bear
This one more golden burden.
"I sing, like birds of blithesome note,
That in the branches dwell;
The song that rises from the throat
Repays the minstrel well.
One boon I'd crave, if not too bold--
One bumper in a cup of gold
Be as my guerdon given."
The bowl he raised, the bowl he quaff'd:
"Oh drink, with solace fraught!
Oh, house thrice-blest, where such a draught
A trifling gift is thought!
When Fortune smiles, remember me,
And as I thank you heartily,
As warmly thank ye Heaven!"
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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