The Shepherdess Of The Arno
’Tis no wild and wond’rous legend, but a simple pious tale
Of a gentle shepherd maiden, dwelling in Italian vale,
Near where Arno’s glittering waters like the sunbeams flash and play
As they mirror back the vineyards through which they take their way.
She was in the rosy dawning of girlhood fair and bright,
And, like morning’s smiles and blushes, was she lovely to the sight;
Soft cheeks like sea-shells tinted and radiant hazel eyes;
But on changing earthly lover were not lavished smiles or sighs.
Still, that gentle heart was swelling with a love unbounded, true,
Such as worldly breast, earth harden’d, passion-wearied, never knew;
And each day she sought the chapel of Our Lady in the dell,
There to seek an hour’s communing with the Friend she loved so well.
Often, too, she brought a garland of wild flowers, fragrant, fair,
Which she culled whilst onward leading her flock with patient care;
The diamond dew-drops clinging to every petal sweet,—
For the mystic Rose of Heaven was it not a tribute meet?
The white statue of the Virgin boasted neither crown nor gem;
On its head she placed her chaplet instead of diadem,
Murm’ring, “O, my gentle Mother, would that it were in my power
To give Thee pearl or diamond instead of simple flower!”
But for earth she was too winsome, that fair child of faith and love,
One of those whom God culls early for His gardens bright above;
And the hand of sickness touched her till she faded day by day,
And to Our Lady’s chapel she came no more to pray.
One evening, in the valley, after journeying many a mile,
Two pious men in holy garb lay down to rest a while,
And in sleep to both a vision of most wond’rous beauty came,
Such as only visit souls which burn with heav’nly love’s pure flame.
Amid clouds of golden brightness they saw to earth float down
A band of fair young virgins, wearing each a glittering crown;
And surpassing them in beauty, as the day outshines the night,
Was high Heaven’s regal Mistress—Our Lady, fair and bright.
Then the pious brothers knew at once that she was on her way
To see a dying maiden, and her love through life repay;
And when, from slumber waking, they told their vision true,
They said: “Let us go visit this child of Mary, too!”
High instinct lent by Heaven guided on their feet aright,
And in silence grave they journeyed till a cottage came in sight;
’Neath its humble porch they entered, with bow’d and reverent head,
And found themselves in presence of the peaceful, holy dead.
Oh! most fair the sight! No maiden with bridal wreath on brow
Ever looked one half so lovely as the one they gazed on now;
As a lily, fair and spotless, bright and pure each feature shone,
Bearing impress of that Heaven to which Mary’s child had gone.
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. Interlude II.
'I thought before your tale began,'
The Student murmured, 'we should have
Some legend written by Judah Rav
In his Gemara of Babylon;
Or something from the Gulistan,--
The tale of the Cazy of Hamadan,
Or of that King of Khorasan
Who saw in dreams the eyes of one
That had a hundred years been dead
Still moving restless in his head,
Undimmed, and gleaming with the lust
Of power, though all the rest was dust.
'But lo! your glittering caravan
On the road that leadeth to Ispahan
Hath led us farther to the East
Into the regions of Cathay.
Spite of your Kalif and his gold,
Pleasant has been the tale you told,
And full of color; that at least
No one will question or gainsay.
And yet on such a dismal day
We need a merrier tale to clear
The dark and heavy atmosphere.
So listen, Lordlings, while I tell,
Without a preface, what befell
A simple cobbler, in the year ?
No matter; it was long ago;
And that is all we need to know.'
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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One Morning In May
One morning, one morning, one morning in may
I spied a young couple, they were making their way
One was a maiden so bright and so fair
And the other was a soldier and a brave volunteer
Good morning, good morning, good morning said he
And where are you going my pretty lady
Im goig out a walkin on the banks of the sea
Just to see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
Now they had not been standing but a minute or two
And out of his knapsack a fiddle he drew
And the tune that he played made the valleys all ring
Oh hark cried the maiden hear the nightingale sing
Oh maiden fair maiden tis time to give oer
Oh no kind soldier please play one tune more
For Id rather hear your fiddle at the touch of one string
Than to see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
Oh soldier kind soldier will you marry me
Oh no pretty maiden that never shall be
Ive a wife in london and children twice three
Two wives and the armys too many for me
Well Ill go back to london and Ill stay there for a year
Its often that Ill think of you my little dear
And if ever I return it will be in the spring
Just to see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
To see the waters gliding hear the nightingale sing
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Im A Legend Tonight
Ive been working at my job, slaving like a dog all day
And Ive been thinking about you, girl
And watching the minutes slip away
Yeah, and I know theres someone inside me that nobody sees
And I know in the darkness youre gonna be reaching for me
Im a legend tonight
Gonna make you feel right
When you reach for the light
Im a legend tonight
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight
You know they try to slow me, sometimes I think Im gonna stop
But I gotta keep on going, believing in 5 o clock, yeah
And on the edge of the darkness well be living in another world
And I know that a part of yous gonna be part of me, girl
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight
Look at me
I dont know what happens when the race is run
I dont know what tells me if Ive lost or won
But I know that Ill make it through the day alright
And girl, youre gonna find out
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
Gonna make you feel right, legend
When you reach for the light, legend
Im a legend tonight, legend
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flash's Dream
Scene: mr. black's army is closing in on flash & the spivs.
After a long day's campaigning flash, having overindulged
The alcohol, has fallen asleep in his den.
Voice: cooee. cooee. flash. flash
Flash: who is this?
Voice: wake up flash. can you hear me flash?
Flash: who is this? who dares to wake me from my slumber?
Voice: need i announce myself? am i such a stranger to you?
Flash: say your name. speak!
Voice: i am your soul.
Flash: my soul?
Voice: i have come to show you who you are.
Flash: show me who i am? i know who i am you upstart! how
Dare you intrude.
Voice: you lied and schemed and took over a simple village and
Turned it into a vulgar playground for your own money-
Making ends. before you came people lived simple lives.
This was a happy place. then you ploughed up the fields,
Sold off the land and lined your own pockets with the profits.
Flash: lies! lies! i did it to help the nation
Voice: you did it for your own preservation!
Flash: no! no!
Voice: prepare yourself flash, there are many who suffered at your
Hands. they are craving for vengeance. time is running out.
Flash: can this be the end? can this be the swan song? the final
Elbow? i will not go. the people need me.
Voice: men like you will always come and go, but the people will go
On forever. take one final look at the past flash. enjoy it,
Because you have no future.
Flash: no! no! no! i can't stand this.
Trumpets herald the final confrontation between flash and himself.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flash's Dream (The Final Elbow)
Scene: Mr. Black's army is closing in on Flash & The Spivs.
After a long day's campaigning Flash, having overindulged
the alcohol, has fallen asleep in his den.
Voice: Cooee. Cooee. Flash. Flash
Flash: Who is this?
Voice: Wake up Flash. Can you hear me Flash?
Flash: Who is this? Who dares to wake me from my slumber?
Voice: Need I announce myself? Am I such a stranger to you?
Flash: Say your name. Speak!
Voice: I am your soul.
Flash: My soul?
Voice: I have come to show you who you are.
Flash: Show me who I am? I know who I am you upstart! How
dare you intrude.
Voice: You lied and schemed and took over a simple village and
turned it into a vulgar playground for your own money-
making ends. Before you came people lived simple lives.
This was a happy place. Then you ploughed up the fields,
sold off the land and lined your own pockets with the profits.
Flash: Lies! Lies! I did it to help the nation
Voice: You did it for your own preservation!
Flash: No! No!
Voice: Prepare yourself Flash, there are many who suffered at your
hands. They are craving for vengeance. Time is running out.
Flash: Can this be the end? Can this be the swan song? The final
elbow? I will not go. The people need me.
Voice: Men like you will always come and go, but the people will go
on forever. Take one final look at the past Flash. Enjoy it,
because you have no future.
Flash: No! No! No! I can't stand this.
Trumpets herald the final confrontation between Flash and himself.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Corrected News
'T was a maiden lady (the newspapers say)
Pious and prim and a bit gone-gray.
She slept like an angel, holy and white,
Till ten o' the clock in the shank o' the night
(When men and other wild animals prey)
And then she cried in the viewless gloom:
'There's a man in the room, a man in the room!'
And this maiden lady (they make it appear)
Leapt out of the window, five fathom sheer!
Alas, that lying is such a sin
When newspaper men need bread and gin
And none can be had for less than a lie!
For the maiden lady a bit gone-gray
Saw the man in the room from across the way,
And leapt, not out of the window but in
_Ten_ fathom sheer, as I hope to die!
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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What Becomes A Legend Most
What becomes a legend most
When shes alone in a hotel lobby
What becomes a legend most
Some bad champagne and some foreign bottled beer
What becomes a legend most
When the musicians have come and then leave her
What becomes a legend most
Besides being a legendary star
What becomes a legend most
Lying in bed cold and regal
What becomes a legend most
Lying in bed watching a talk show on tv
What becomes a legend most
Fifty days in fifty cities
And everyone says she looks pretty
At least as pretty as a legend should
Fifty days can wear you down
Fifty cities flying by
A different man in each different hotel
And if youre not careful, word can get around
What becomes a legend most
Not a bed, that is half empty
Not a heart, that is left empty
Thats not pretty, not pretty at all
What becomes a legend most
When shes lying in her hotel room
What becomes a legend most
Well baby, tonight its you (tonight its you)
Baby, tonight its you
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la) baby, its you
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la) maybe tomorrow
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la) baby, its you
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la)
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la)
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la)
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la)
(what becomes a legend most, sha-la-la-la-la)
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet II. (Translated From Milton)
As on a hill-top rude, when closing day
Imbrowns the scene, some past'ral maiden fair
Waters a lovely foreign plant with care,
That scarcely can its tender bud display
Borne from its native genial airs away,
So, on my tongue these accents new and rare
Are flow'rs exotic, which Love waters there,
While thus, o sweetly scornful! I essay
Thy praise in verse to British ears unknown,
And Thames exchange for Arno's fair domain;
So Love has will'd, and oftimes Love has shown
That what He wills he never wills in vain.
Oh that this hard and steril breast might be
To Him who plants from heav'n, a soil as free.
poem by William Cowper
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To my Mother
Yes, I have sung of others' woes,
Until they almost seem'd mine own,
And fancy oft will scenes disclose
Whose being was in thought alone:
Her magic power I've cherished long,
And yielded to her soothing sway;
Enchanting is her syren song,
And wild and wond'rous is her way.
But thou—whene'er I think on thee,
Those glittering visions fade away;
My soul awakens, how tenderly!
To pleasures that can ne'er decay.
There's not an hour of life goes by
But makes thee still more firmly dear;
My sighs attend upon thy sigh,
My sorrows wait upon thy tear:
For earth has nought so good, so pure,
That may compare with love like thine—
Long as existence shall endure,
Thy star of guiding love shall shine!
O'er other stars dark clouds may lower,
And from our path their light may sever—
They lived to bless us but an hour,
But thine shall live to bless us ever!
poem by Louisa Stuart Costello
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Canadian Thames
Westward it winds past each town,
Growing broader as it flows down.
Onward it glides, never weary,
Meandering so soft and cheery.
The sunbeams on the waters glance,
Skipping about in silvery dance,
From morn till eve the cattle feed
'Neath lofty elms along the mead.
And on its banks, in warrior pride,
The brave Tecumseh fought and died,
Peace and prosperity now reigns
Along the fertile vale of Thames.
Now soon the waters meet and pair
With the wavelets of St. Clair ;
As maids when wed do lose their names,
No longer is it called the Thames.
poem by James McIntyre
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Colin Instructed
Young Colin was as stout a boy
As ever gave a maiden joy;
But long in vain he told his tale
To black-eyed Biddy of the Dale.
Ah why, the whining shepherd cried,
Am I alone your smiles denied?
I only tell in vain my tale
To black-eyed Biddy of the Dale.
True Colin, said the laughing dame,
You only whimper out your flame,
Others do more than sigh their tale
To black-eyed Biddy of the Dale.
He took the hint &c.
poem by Thomas Chatterton
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Campbells Block
You may look but look in vain
For stores with such immense pane ;
All other shops they do surpass
With their enormous lights of glass.
One night by chance through them we gazed
But we did quickly stand amazed ;
Three moons they did beauteous glow,
And gleams so lovely they did throw.
But a still more wond'rous story
Mid day showed three suns in glory ;
At the sight we scarce could gaze,
So full of brilliancy the rays.
We had to curtain off the glory ;
If you don't believe this wondrous story
Ask Editon of the Tribune
About this tale of sun and moon.
Which did bewilder McIntyre
Gazing on mighty orbs of fire ;
Eclipsing the electric light
So brilliant in their glorious might.
Luminaries no more invade,
Excluded now by window shade ;
Pray think that this if no intrusion
This tale of optical illusion.
poem by James McIntyre
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To Lady Eleanor Butler and the Honourable Miss Ponsonby,
A stream to mingle with your favorite Dee
Along the Vale of Meditation flows;
So styled by those fierce Britons, pleased to see
In Nature's face the expression of repose,
Or, haply there some pious Hermit chose
To live and die -- the peace of Heaven his aim,
To whome the wild sequestered region owes
At this late day, its sanctifying name.
Glyn Cafaillgaroch, in the Cambrian tongue,
In ourse the Vale of Friendship, let this spot
Be nam'd, where faithful to a low roof'd Cot
On Deva's banks, ye have abode so long,
Sisters in love, a love allowed to climb
Ev'n on this earth, above the reach of time.
poem by William Wordsworth
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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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Behold, My Love, How Green the Groves
Behold, my love, how green the groves,
The primrose banks how fair;
The balmy gales awake the flowers,
And wave thy flowing hair.
The lav’rock shuns the palace gay,
And o’er the cottage sings:
For Nature smiles as sweet, I ween,
To Shepherds as to Kings.
Let minstrels sweep the skilfu’ string,
In lordly lighted ha’:
The Shepherd stops his simple reed,
Blythe in the birken shaw.
The Princely revel may survey
Our rustic dance wi’ scorn;
But are their hearts as light as ours,
Beneath the milk-white thorn!
The shepherd, in the flowery glen;
In shepherd’s phrase, will woo:
The courtier tells a finer tale,
But is his heart as true!
These wild-wood flowers I’ve pu’d, to deck
That spotless breast o’ thine:
The courtiers’ gems may witness love,
But, ’tis na love like mine.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Corryong
The cattle-lands of Corryong,
The maiden of the snows
(Where silver streams the winter long
Sing pleasantly their tinkling song)
Not many a town man knows.
And here sleek cattle, deep in grass,
Watch placidly the seasons pass.
Her beauty has a wondrous worth
This maiden cleanly bright
A beauty won from her rich earth
Where the great Murray has his birth,
And gathers up his might
To scatter rich fertility
On his long journey to the sea.
Her face is laved in waters clear
Snow waters dashing down.
That flash, and hide, and reappear
To feed the pastures far and near
About this lovely town
Fair Corryong, the Cattle Queen,
Hiding her beauty here unseen.
A glory here the scene presents
Glory that may not die;
Where, up from these green, gleaming bents,
Great Kosciusko's battlements
Lift to the laughing sky.
And Corryong contentment knows
The joyous maiden of the snows.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Always On Cue
Life should be in tune with you,
A gentle song, always on cue,
Soft lingering smile, by pleasure kissed,
Sunbeams that pierce the early mist.
Listening to the chorus of birds at dawn,
Glimpsing blossom on a wild hawthorn,
Laughter pulsating through the veins,
Happiness filled with sweet refrains.
Feeling such balance and harmony,
When I'm with you, and you're with me.
Life should be in tune with you,
A gentle song, always on cue.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Wild Child
It's too late to turn back
When the green lights flash
Too late to turn around
When the love goes down
Your fire my fate
This woman won't wait
So love beam your laser light
Get ready gonna take this flight
You're so wild
(you're wild and willing)
So wild (your spirit's free)
You're such a wild wild child
Oh baby go wild with me
Two hearts one mind
Baby you're my kind
You're too hot you're too much
You've got that personal touch
Push button play thing
Make my back door ring
Fight fire with a little fire baby
You oughta know you make this
little girl sing
You're so wild
(you're wild and willing)
So wild (your spirit's free)
You're such a wild wild child
Oh baby go wild with me
Do your little shake baby
rattle and roll
Ring my bell baby do my soul
Don't let the grass grow under my feet
Bang my drum baby feel my beat
you're so wild
You're so wild
(you're wild and willing)
So wild (your spirit's free)
You're such a wild wild child
Oh baby go wild with me
You're so wild
(you're wild and willing)
So wild (your spirit's free)
You're such a wild wild child
Oh baby go wild with me
song performed by by Heart from Brigade
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fidelity
A BARKING sound the Shepherd hears,
A cry as of a dog or fox;
He halts--and searches with his eyes
Among the scattered rocks:
And now at distance can discern
A stirring in a brake of fern;
And instantly a dog is seen,
Glancing through that covert green.
The Dog is not of mountain breed;
Its motions, too, are wild and shy;
With something, as the Shepherd thinks,
Unusual in its cry:
Nor is there any one in sight
All round, in hollow or on height;
Nor shout, nor whistle strikes his ear;
What is the creature doing here?
It was a cove, a huge recess,
That keeps, till June, December's snow;
A lofty precipice in front,
A silent tarn below!
Far in the bosom of Helvellyn,
Remote from public road or dwelling,
Pathway, or cultivated land;
From trace of human foot or hand.
There sometimes doth a leaping fish
Send through the tarn a lonely cheer;
The crags repeat the raven's croak,
In symphony austere;
Thither the rainbow comes--the cloud--
And mists that spread the flying shroud;
And sunbeams; and the sounding blast,
That, if it could, would hurry past;
But that enormous barrier holds it fast.
Not free from boding thoughts, a while
The Shepherd stood; then makes his way
O'er rocks and stones, following the Dog
As quickly as he may;
Nor far had gone before he found
A human skeleton on the ground;
The appalled Discoverer with a sigh
Looks round, to learn the history.
From those abrupt and perilous rocks
The Man had fallen, that place of fear!
At length upon the Shepherd's mind
It breaks, and all is clear:
He instantly recalled the name,
And who he was, and whence he came;
Remembered, too, the very day
On which the Traveller passed this way.
But hear a wonder, for whose sake
This lamentable tale I tell!
A lasting monument of words
This wonder merits well.
The Dog, which still was hovering nigh,
Repeating the same timid cry,
This Dog, had been through three months' space
A dweller in that savage place.
Yes, proof was plain that, since the day
When this ill-fated Traveller died,
The Dog had watched about the spot,
Or by his master's side:
How nourished here through such long time
He knows, who gave that love sublime;
And gave that strength of feeling, great
Above all human estimate!
poem by William Wordsworth
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The Twenty-Third Psalm
My Shepherd is the Lord my God,--
There is no want I know;
His flock He leads in verdant meads,
Where tranquil waters flow.
He doth restore my fainting soul
With His divine caress,
And, when I stray, He points the way
To paths of righteousness.
Yea, though I walk the vale of death,
What evil shall I fear?
Thy staff and rod are mine, O God,
And Thou, my Shepherd, near!
Mine enemies behold the feast
Which my dear Lord hath spread;
And, lo! my cup He filleth up,
With oil anoints my head!
Goodness and mercy shall be mine
Unto my dying day;
Then will I bide at His dear side
Forever and for aye!
poem by Eugene Field
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