Satyr II. To T:--- M.---y. On Law.
Health & advice an old acquaintance sends,
Health & advice, the wish & debt of friends,
Tis fitt I teach the templar how to thrive,
Who teaches me with temperance to live.
Be still then murmuring Clients for a while,
Ye noisy four Court walls awhile be still,
Splitt with hard banter, & the Lawyers tongue,
Now Give a gentler Eccho to my song.
Of Law I sing, inspire my weaker pen,
Lost Suits, & pleaders little usd to gain.
That angry Justice to her heaven went
There seems not so confessd an argument,
As Lawyers thriving in her name below,
When were she here again, again she'd go.
Thus courtiers, if a Kings from care wthdrawn,
Rise without meritt, & with fraud rule on.
All Law was conscience once, unmixd wth tricks,
Found out by interest, or for politicks:
To his award each happy village stands,
Whose awfull virtue most respect commands,
Nor bribes, nor favour swayd the rigid man,
But all his acts in golden order ran;
Till love of gain, or fame, found out ye croud,
& rose by seeming good, above the good.
From this gross error to relieve their lands
Projecting patriots gave their helping hands:
Then Laws were putt in writing, courts were reard,
& Men for forehead, & strong lungs preferrd,
A friend or whore became a heightning clause,
& mony grew the meritt of the cause.
Woud you be taught your paths of gain to tread,
But man wants little teaching to be bad,
Gett impudence, each nation has its share,
Or something which does wondrous like appear,
Scotch confidence, the vanity of France,
The surly English air, the Irish ignorance,
All stand for this, or up to this advance.
Letts hear the other side, the Judge commands,
& Tully rises with his brief in hand,
Tully so known, so little heard of late,
But bauling Matho wont give over yet,
Forbid & shameless still he quotes ye lawes
Till want of time & his unceasing noise,
Staves of a Judgement or obtains the cause.
Thus what the first of every term he gaines,
So great a family so well maintaines.
Poor modesty, as old records declare,
Was starvd to death behind the foremost barr.
Have many words, nor spare ye breath you sell,
Your Clients pleasd you labour, tho' you fail;
Hence fluent Nevolus his great success,
Smoothly he utters, finds his words with ease,
his reasons places in the clearest light,
& pleads with humour, where he has not right.
Livy, whose country talks upon his words,
Shows reason, reason if the cause affords,
& by his happy fault of speaking long
Makes some believe he shows it in ye wrong.
Your terms are too of wondrous consequence,
To dazzle ignorance, & puzzle sence.
& many private tricks besides are known,
Which practise finds, or custom has sett down.
Young Brutus, who so quickly came in play,
To gainfull fame found this effectuall way,
In formâ pauperis much he undertook,
As men who fish take worm upon ye hook,
& to be often heard, for nothing often spoke.
With this last rule I close my whole advice,
Take all you can, he looses who deny's,
Who by one side is usd may honest be,
But he is rich who takes of both his fee.
& least you want a story of your art,
Hear how began this double-dealing part.
In times of yore, & Æsops vocall grove,
When fingers talkd of something else then Love,
The hands fell out, the plaintiff, left maintaind,
The right in all things tho unjustly reignd.
Then this her plea, that had her answer heard,
This brought deponents, that Cross bills preferrd.
After a Long debate to make them pay,
(for you as well may hope to gett away,
for nought, as allmost nought) the Judges say,
What ere the world in other things intends,
To shew how much we wish relations friends,
As often as we can, the court decrees,
To use you both alike in taking fees
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Related quotes
Lawyer's Paradise
Some times law is very confusing
System of courts is quite amusing,
The cases are not disposed off fast
So significance of the justice is lost.
One or for other reason day after day
Months and years, cases are delayed.
Justice seekers wait long in the process
Pay for being victim of the dilatoriness.
Lawyers get adjournment every time
And charge to their clients per diem.
Some times to harass the opposition
Take adjournment for flimsy reason.
Many clients are poor and uneducated
Pay for justice and wait time unlimited.
The client suffers by adjournment practice
And unfortunately fall victim to injustice.
Some lawyers are habitual of adjournment
Some Continue meaningless argument;
For each adjournment client has to pay
Lawyer extract money, clients face delay.
Courts which do not timely decide
Are the places of lawyers paradise.
(c) S.D.Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Parting
O tell me, friends, while yet we part,
And heart can yet be heard of heart,
O tell me then, for what is it
Our early plan of life we quit;
From all our old intentions range,
And why does all so wholly change?
O tell me, friends, while yet we part!
O tell me, friends, while yet we part,
The rays that from the centre start
Within the orb of one warm sun,
Unless I err, have once begun,
Why is it thus they still diverge?
And whither tends the course they urge?
O tell me, friends, while yet we part!
O tell me, friends, while yet ye hear,
May it not be, some coming year,
These ancient paths that here divide
Shall yet again run side by side,
And you from there, and I from here,
All on a sudden reappear?
O tell me, friends, while yet ye hear!
O tell me, friends, ye hardly hear,
And if indeed ye did, I fear
Ye would not say, ye would not speak,
Are you so strong, am I so weak,
And yet, how much so e’er I yearn,
Can I not follow, nor you turn?
O tell me, friends, ye hardly hear!
O tell me, friends, ere words are o’er,
There’s something in me sad and sore
Repines, and underneath my eyes
I feel a somewhat that would rise,
O tell me, O my friends, and you,
Do you feel nothing like it too?
O tell me, friends, ere words are o’er!
O tell me, friends that are no more,
Do you, too, think ere it is o’er
Old times shall yet come round as erst,
And we be friends, as we were first?
Or do you judge that all is vain,
Except that rule that none complain?
O tell me, friends that are no more!
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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From A Letter to A Friend
I write to you asking for advice
You my good friend who I trust
It concerns a matter of the heart
Where you have found some success
Amongst your share of heartbreak
I admire your strength of character
It is a trait I wish to succeed
I have never felt as much at ease
Around others in the social sense
I have found myself to be less adept
When looking to love and romance
I am considered strange by many
To whom I remain a stranger
I keep a piece of myself back
An insurance against being known
And left unwanted
I do not known what to ask you
Or what I would ask of myself
I would like to stand much taller
Appear confident and charming
That I may win another’s affection
I guess it’s down to the little things
And what would you suggest for me
My friend who I trust
I close this letter now
Without actually having said much
I suspect I may have revealed plenty
Letters and words can paint a comedy
Nearly as funny as life it seems
Without family and friends
I do not know where will would end
Or who we would become
My good friend
Who I sincerely trust
I would like to thank you
For the advice and the time
Our friendship, our life
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Satyr III. Virtue
Is virtue something reall here below
Or but an Idle name & empty show
While on this head I take my thoughts to task
Methinks young Freedom answers wt I ask
In his own moralls thus the Spark goes on
Or thus if he were here he might have don
In what wild hill or unfrequented plain
hast thou been bred so ignorant of men
Such doubts in such a world to entertain
Or has thy father had an hopefull son
by Colledge education quite undon
& therefore wisely gave his others none
Believe me Sr that what you faign woud know
is but a word to signify a show
Often it is 'tis often not designd
& still it makes a riddle of the mind.
Now see how evidently this appears
in the clear language of particulars.
All men do Sporus very chast esteem
But does he rule his will or nature him
What he might be himself he little knows
Who never had a passion to oppose
he must be chast with out a world of pains
for all his virtue is his impotence.
Damon the hottest rakell of the town
has his cast misses on the common thrown
No signs of great repentance does he show
But the mans bound his wife's his virtue now
Nor friends nor glorious wine nor sparkling witt
Makes Codrus ere beyond a bottle sitt
this is his temperance his acquaintance say
& att the barr they give him leave to pay
But they forgett that Codrus is so poor
& all his virtue may be want of more
A sexton scarcely can resolve to ring
But Cotta flyes as on devotions wing
tows his old aunt in black to every prayer
Whines as he goes & prayes aloud when there
thus to be Guardian when she dies he'le gett
his virtue is the hopes of pow'r to cheat
thus various mankind cou'd I quickly trace
& show how fondly we mistake their wayes
how something which they are not oft they seem
& how that something brings them in esteem
but to be short with in my self I feel
too deepely rooted all the seeds of ill
Mad passions reason not invincible
& chance to be misguided in my will
Why shoud I think another has not these
is he more perfect man or am I less.
To such a loose harangue on t'other side
My honest Trueman woud have thus replyd
While by yr own you blame anothers soul
You must go wrong & ye illbiassd bowl
bear on a falser ground at every roul
tis granted where the moralls run awry
there your reflections very justly ly
but think you there are none to good inclind
from the meer sway of reason on their mind
think you that every one woud rather be
Slave to his passions then from passion free
for such they are who have no powr to stay
When every weak temptation calls away
Curio is summond to Corinna's house
Cross is his father cruell is her spouse
the dangers great but Curio must be gon
a pleasure tempts a passion hurry's on
Nor are the troubles which pursue it all
for you may feel the very fetters gall
Dispair & hope with lingring pangs remain
Sorrow & Joy give much a quicker pain
& love & hate in wild convulsions reign.
When with their proper objects these attack
tis to be virtuous then to drive 'em back
entrenchd with in ye rules wch prudence makes
tis virtue still an æquall mind to bear
Nor swoln wth hope nor too depressed wth fear
to lett the Man secure from passion move
in reasons orb serenely plac'd above
tis Virtue to maintain your country's cause
Support your king while he supports her laws
nor in th' oppressing of a kingdom share
for fifteen hundred English pounds a year
paid down by order of ye Commons here
tis virtue & the highest mentiond yet
to think religion not a trick of state
Nature has fooles who know not of this way
& fooles alone have priviledge to stray
But if a Competence of Sense she give
& the receivers do not upright live
their different failures do such words create
as Atheist traytor villain rakehell cheat
defamer pander whore knight of ye post
& hypocrites a Common name for most
Most strive to varnish their prevailing vice
& grant with ease when they succeed in this
the Case the same where the appearance is
but goodness ever has the same appeard
While no design is still upon its guard
the best is onely but ye best begun
Sooner or later by its self undon
Ore peaceful citts the hectring bullys reign
But while they hector so they know their men
Shoud they vex one at last to Cudgells bred
the masque of valour wont protect ye head
While the tough cane insults the shining blade
I scorn in verity old Gripus cry's
this swearing this unprofitable vice
but mony mollifys the wretches scorn
& he who hates to swear will be forsworn
thus ill men never fail of being known
how sly so e're a vizard they put on
but still the good both seem & are ye same
unmovd by passion, int'rest, humour, fame
tis thus that they deserve ye name of men
by ruling of themselves they empires gain
& laugh at fortune raisd above her reign.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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To
Thanks to the friend whose happy lines coud cheer
In Derry's oaten soil frozen air
When to the Citty late I bid farewell
Beneath my firm resolves my scribling fell
The Ghost of my departed Muse you raise
tune her tongue to long forgotten layes
Thus a poor girl by passion overrun
Tires with the folly forsakes the town
But if her shades present a powrfull swain
She feels ye woman stirr loves again
Your thoughts are Just your words fall in wth ease
Who woud not be abused in lines like these
Mindless of all the ill they say of me
I read them admire their poetry
So when a Charming beauty strikes ye heart
We slight the wound to gaze upon ye dart
But oh My friend of writing much beware
If once you're charmd youre fixd for ever there
Fame all abroad loose desires with in
Intice a giddy creature to the pen
A Cælia soon he getts to whom to write
the brisk bottle must compleat ye witt
Then every minute of succeeding time
Invents a frolick or creates a whim
Which his leud absent friend must hear in rime
You'll think ( others have been thus undone)
Your reason can the growing passion shun
But did you know its strength youd doubt your own
Your best endeavours on ye law bestow
Rough as it is 'tis proffitable too
Cowel Blunt have words Cook ye way
to keep the wrangling sons of earth in play
then if your books you use your Clients pay
Stay Muse in paths you never trod you rove
My lean advice does my presumption prove
But Can it shew my fault & not my love
Kindly accept what I in kindness send
think me as I think my self your friend.
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Reflections
Upon The Subject
When all the fiercer passions cease
(The glory and disgrace of youth):
When the deluded soul in peace,
Can listen to the voice of truth:
When we are taught in whom to trust,
And how to spare, to spend, to give,
(Our prudence kind, our pity just),
'Tis then we rightly learn to live.
Its weakness when the body feels,
Nor danger in contempt defies:
To reason when desire appeals,
When, on experience, hope relies:
When every passing hour we prize,
Nor rashly on our follies spend:
But use it, as it quickly flies,
With sober aim to serious end:
When prudence bounds our utmost views,
And bids us wrath and wrong forgive:
When we can ealmly gain or lose, -
'Tis then we rightly learn to live.
Yet thus, when we our way discern,
And can upon our care depend,
To travel safely, when we learn,
Behold? we're near our journey's end.
We've trod the maze of error round,
Long wand'ring in the winding glade:
And, now the torch of truth is found,
It only shows us where we stray'd:
Light for ourselves, what is it worth,
When we no more our way can choose?
For others, when we hold it forth,
They, in their pride, the boon refuse.
By long experience taught, we now
Can rightly judge of friends and foes,
Can all the worth of these allow,
And all their faults discern in those;
Relentless hatred, erring love,
We can for sacred truth forego;
We can the warmest friend reprove,
And bear to praise the fiercest foe:
To what effect? Our friends are gone
Beyond reproof, regard, or care;
And of our foes remains there one,
The mild relenting thought to share?
Now 'tis our boast that we can quell
The wildest passions in their rage;
Can their destructive force repel,
And their impetuous wrath assuage:
Ah! Virtue, dost thou arm, when now
This bold rebellious race are fled;
When all these tyrants rest and thou
Art warring with the mighty dead?
Revenge, ambition, scorn, and pride,
And strong desire, and fierce disdain,
The giant-brood by thee defied,
Lo! Time's resistless strokes have slain.
Yet Time, who could that race subdue,
(O'erpowering strength, appeasing rage,)
Leaves yet a persevering crew,
To try the failing powers of age.
Vex'd by the constant call of these,
Virtue a while for conquest tries:
But weary grown and fond of ease,
She makes with them a compromise:
Av'rice himself she gives to rest,
But rules him with her strict commands;
Bids Pity touch his torpid breast,
And Justice hold his eager hands.
Yet is their nothing men can do,
When chilling age comes creeping on?
Cannot we yet some good pursue?
Are talents buried? genius gone?
If passions slumber in the breast,
If follies from the heart be fled;
Of laurels let us go in quest,
And place them on the poet's head.
Yes, we'll redeem the wasted time,
And to neglected studies flee;
We'll build again the lofty rhyme,
Or live, Philosophy, with thee:
For reasoning clear, for flight sublime,
Eternal fame reward shall be;
And to what glorious heights we'll climb,
The admiring crowd shall envying see.
Begin the song! begin the theme! -
Alas! and is Invention dead?
Dream we no more the golden dream?
Is Mem'ry with her treasures fled?
Yes, 'tis too late,--now Reason guides
The mind, sole judge in all debate;
And thus the important point decides,
For laurels, 'tis, alas! too late.
What is possess'd we may retain,
But for new conquests strive in vain.
Beware then, Age, that what was won,
If life's past labours, studies, views,
Be lost not, now the labour's done,
When all thy part is,--not to lose:
When thou canst toil or gain no more,
Destroy not what was gain'd before.
For, all that's gain'd of all that's good,
When time shall his weak frame destroy
(Their use then rightly understood),
Shall man, in happier state, enjoy.
Oh! argument for truth divine,
For study's cares, for virtue's strife;
To know the enjoyment will be thine,
In that renew'd, that endless life!
poem by George Crabbe
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You And I Both
Was it you who spoke the words that things would happen but not to me
Oh things are gonna happen naturally
And taking your advice I'm looking on the bright side
And balancing the whole thing
But often times those words get tangled up in lines
And the bright lights turn to night
Until the dawn it brings
Another day to sing about the magic that was you and me
Cause you and I both loved
What you and I spoke of
And others just read of
Others only read of the love that I love
See I'm all about them words
Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words
Hundreds of pages, pages, pages forwards
More words then I had ever heard and I feel so alive
Cause you and I both loved
What you and I spoke of
And others just read of
And if you could see me now oh love love
Now you and I, you and I
Not so little you and I anymore
And with this silence brings a moral story
more importantly evolving is the glory of a boy
Cause you and I both loved what you and I spoke of
and others just read of and if you could see me now
well I'm almost finally out of
and it's okay if you have to go away
just remember the telephones are working on both ways
but if I never never hear them ring
if nothing else I'll think the bells inside
have finally found you someone else and that's okay
cause I'll remember everything you sang
Cause you and I both loved what you and I spoke of
and others just read of and if you could see me now
well I'm almost finally out of words.
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You & I Both
by Jason Mraz
Was it you who spoke the words that things would happen but not to me
Oh things are gonna happen naturally
And taking your advice I'm looking on the bright side
And balancing the whole thing
But often times those words get tangled up in lines
And the bright lights turn to night
Until the dawn it brings
A little bird who'll sing about the magic that was you and me
Cause you and I both loved
What you and I spoke of
What you and I spoke of
Others only dream of the love that I love
See I'm all about them words
Over numbers, unencumbered numbered words
Hundreds of pages, pages, pages forwards
More words then I had ever heard and I feel so alive
Now you and I, you and I
Not so little you and I anymore
And with this silence brings a moral story
more importantly evolving is the glory of a boy
you and I both loved what you and I spoke of
and others just read of and if you could see now
well I'm already finally out of
and it's okay if you have go away
just remember the telephone works both ways
and if I never ever hear it ring
if nothing else I'll think the bells inside
have finally found you someone else and that's okay
cause I'll remember everything you sang
you and I both loved what you and I spoke of
and others just read of and if you could see now
well I'm already finally out of words.
song performed by by Jason Mraz
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Could Be A Poem?
This poem could be
The greatest thing you've ever heard
Like a verbal bird
Free to fly around the confines of your mind
Or maybe like a kite, flying freely caressed by the wind
There for you to repeat it again and again
This poem could be manipulated, congratulated, or disintegrated
It could even get frustrated if you fail to catch it's meaning
Demeaning one of the reasons it was written
To be heard, not deferred, or unnerved
It was made to inspire
Requiring the constant retire
That is your head
This poem could be life or death
The poem could convince you to put yourself
At risk to knowledge or to bullets
There is no chaos; There is harmony
There is no emotion; there is peace
OR
Through passion, I gain strength
Through strength, I gain power
Through power, I gain Victory...
Victory...
Victory...
This poem could be
This poem could be like victory
Great for the moment
Then lost in time
Lost in echoes
Lost in rhyme
Lost in justice
Lost in crime
Just lost
Then found!
Bound to the world by the person who hears it
This poem could be
Garbage
If you can't see the moral at the end of the story
No worries though
'Cause no deposit, no return
This poem could be
Over
But it's not
It lives for as long as you choose to
Hear it, Take it, Live it
This poem could be...
This poem could be..
My lord, WHAT this poem could be!
This poem could start a revolution, but it could end one too
This poem can and will make things happen
Bound and Determined
Or maybe
This poem could be
Just a poem?
poem by Dre' Porcher
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Preparatory Meditations - First Series: 38
(I John 2:1. An Advocate with the Father)
Oh! What a thing is man? Lord, who am I?
That Thou shouldest give him law (Oh! golden line)
To regulate his thoughts, words, life thereby;
And judge him wilt thereby too in Thy time.
A court of justice Thou in heaven holdst
To try his case while he's here housed on mold.
How do Thy angels lay before Thine eye
My deeds both white and black I daily do?
How doth Thy court Thou pannel'st there them try?
But flesh complains: 'What right for this? Let's know.
For, right or wrong, I can't appear unto't.
And shall a sentence pass on such a suit?'
Soft; blemish not this golden bench, or place.
Here is no bribe, nor colorings to hide,
Nor pettifogger to befog the case,
But justice hath her glory here well tried.
Her spotless law all spotted cases tends;
Without respect or disrespect them ends.
God's judge himself; and Christ attorney is;
The Holy Ghost registerer is found.
Angels the serjeants are; all creatures kiss
The book, and do as evidences abound.
All cases pass according to pure law,
And in the sentence is no fret nor flaw.
What say'st, my soul? Here all thy deeds are tried.
Is Christ thy advocate to plead thy cause?
Art thou His client? Such shall never slide.
He never lost His case: He pleads such laws
As carry do the same, nor doth refuse
The vilest sinner's case that doth Him choose.
This is His honor, not dishonor: nay,
No habeas corpus gainst His clients came;
For all their fines His purse doth make down pay.
He non-suits Satan's suit or casts the same.
He'll plead thy case, and not accept a fee.
He'll plead
sub forma pauperis
for thee.
My case is bad. Lord, be my advocate.
My sin is red: I'm under God's arrest.
Thou hast the hint of pleading; plead my state.
Although it's bad, Thy plea will make it best.
If Thou wilt plead my case before the king,
I'll wagon-loads of love and glory bring.
poem by Edward Taylor
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Tongue tied
Whenever I lie I seem to get tongue tied,
On the face of it you may well think it's fine,
But it makes me sigh and I have even cried,
As it leads one to a life of poor design,
I hate when people say that lying is bad,
Sometimes it's the best option that is at hand,
For telling the truth can make people feel sad,
Or lead you to enduring things you can't stand,
Like assessing the appearance of a friend,
Being made to read the writings of laymen,
Having to attend a play in the West End,
Or visiting a relative yet again,
I've often done things I'd rather not have done,
Such as kissing an unappealing person,
Or doing stuff that others seem to find fun,
And so I wish to change before things worsen,
I heard there was someone who knew of a cure,
And so I went off so as to find out more,
With time I found the one I was looking for,
They gave advice which was best not to ignore,
I went and put a piece of ice on my tongue,
Hoping I couldn't lie if my mouth was numb,
I even tried eating a bee to get stung,
However my speech suffered as an outcome,
I altered the language in which I express,
Lest English was that with which my plight depends,
With the use of sign language I found success,
But I couldn't communicate with my friends,
I guess that all of my efforts were in vain,
I'll now have to speak words that are genuine,
Endure the consequences and not complain,
Either that or learn to lace my words with spin.
poem by Christian Lacdael
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Show Dont Tell
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
How many times do you hear it?
It goes on all day long
Everyone knows everything
And no ones ever wrong
Until later
Who can you believe?
Its hard to play it safe
But apart from a few good friends
We dont take anything on faith
Until later
Show dont tell
Show me dont tell me
Youve figured out the score
Show me dont tell me
Ive heard it all before
Show me dont tell me
I dont care what you say
Show me dont tell me
You can twist perceptions
Reality wont budge
You can raise objections
I will be the judge
And the jury
Ill give it due reflection
Watching from the fence
Give the jury direction
Based on the evidence
I, the jury
Show me dont tell me
Hey --- order in the court
Show me dont tell me
Lets try to keep it short
Show me dont tell me
Enough of your demands
Show me dont tell me
Witness take the stand
Show me dont tell me
Show me dont tell me
Hey --- order in the court
Show me dont tell me
Lets try to keep it short
Show me dont tell me
I dont care what you say
Show me dont tell me
Lets see exhibit a
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Leir and His Three Daughters
A lamentable Song of the Death of King Leir and his Three Daughters
. To the tune of
When flying Fame.
King Leir once ruled in this land
With princely power and peace,
And had all things with hearts content,
That might his joys increase.
Amongst those things that nature gave,
Three daughters fair had he,
So princely seeming beautiful,
As fairer could not be.
So on a time it pleas'd the king
A question thus to move,
Which of his daughters to his grace
Could shew the dearest love:
'For to my age you bring content,'
Quoth he, 'then let me hear,
Which of you three in plighted troth
The kindest will appear.'
To whom the eldest thus began:
'Dear father, mind,' quoth she,
'Before your face, to do you good,
My blood shall render'd be.
And for your sake my bleeding heart
Shall here be cut in twain,
Ere that I see your reverend age
The smallest grief sustain.'
'And so will I,' the second said;
'Dear father, for your sake,
The worst of all extremities
I'll gently undertake:
And serve your highness night and day
With diligence and love;
That sweet content and quietness
Discomforts may remove.'
'In doing so, you glad my soul,'
The aged king reply'd;
'But what sayst thou, my youngest girl,
How is thy love ally'd?'
'My love (quoth young Cordelia then),
'Which to your grace I owe,
Shall be the duty of a child,
And that is all I'll show.'
'And wilt thou shew no more,' quoth he,
'Than doth thy duty bind?
I well perceive thy love is small,
When as no more I find.
Henceforth I banish thee my court;
Thou art no child of mine;
Nor any part of this my realm
By favour shall be thine.
'Thy elder sisters loves are more
Than well I can demand;
To whom I equally bestow
My kingdome and my land,
My pompal state and all my goods,
That lovingly I may
With those thy sisters be maintain'd
Until my dying day.'
Thus flattering speeches won renown,
By these two sisters here;
The third had causeless banishment,
Yet was her love more dear.
For poor Cordelia patiently
Went wandring up and down,
Unhelp'd, unpity'd, gentle maid,
Through many an English town:
Untill at last in famous France
She gentler fortunes found;
Though poor and bare, yet she was deem'd
The fairest on the ground:
Where when the king her virtues heard,
And this fair lady seen,
With full consent of all his court
He made his wife and queen.
Her father, old King Leir, this while
With his two daughters staid;
Forgetful of their promis'd loves,
Full soon the same decay'd;
And living in Queen Ragan's court,
The eldest of the twain,
She took from him his chiefest means,
And most of all his train.
For whereas twenty men were wont
To wait with bended knee,
She gave allowance but to ten,
And after scarce to three,
Nay, one she thought too much for him;
So took she all away,
In hope that in her court, good king,
He would no longer stay.
'Am I rewarded thus,' quoth he,
'In giving all I have
Unto my children, and to beg
For what I lately gave?
I'll go unto my Gonorell:
My second child, I know,
Will be more kind and pitiful,
And will relieve my woe.'
Full fast he hies then to her court;
Where when she heard his moan,
Return'd him answer, that she griev'd
That all his means were gone,
But no way could relieve his wants;
Yet if that he would stay
Within her kitchen, he should have
What scullions gave away.
When he had heard, with bitter tears,
He made his answer then;
'In what I did, let me be made
Example to all men.
I will return again,' quoth he,
'Unto my Ragan's court;
She will not use me thus, I hope,
But in a kinder sort.'
Where when he came, she gave command
To drive him thence away:
When he was well within her court,
(She said) he would not stay.
Then back again to Gonorell
The woeful king did hie,
That in her kitchen he might have
What scullion boys set by.
But there of that he was deny'd
Which she had promis'd late:
For once refusing, he should not,
Come after to her gate.
Thus twixt his daughters for relief
He wandred up and down,
Being glad to feed on beggars food
Than lately wore a crown.
And calling to remembrance then
His youngest daughters words,
That said, the duty of a child
Was all that love affords -
But doubting to repair to her,
Whom he had banish'd so,
Grew frantic mad; for in his mind
He bore the wounds of woe.
Which made him rend his milk-white locks
And tresses from his head,
And all with blood bestain his cheeks,
With age and honour spread.
To hills and woods and watry founts,
He made his hourly moan,
Till hills and woods and senseless things
Did seem to sigh and groan.
Even thus possest with discontents,
He passed o're to France,
In hopes from fair Cordelia there
To find some gentler chance.
Most virtuous dame! which, when she heard
Of this her father's grief,
As duty bound, she quickly sent
Him comfort and relief.
And by a train of noble peers,
In brave and gallant sort,
She gave in charge he should be brought
To Aganippus' court;
Whose royal king, with noble mind,
So freely gave consent
To muster up his knights at arms,
To fame and courage bent.
And so to England came with speed,
To repossesse King Leir,
And drive his daughters from their thrones
By his Cordelia dear.
Where she, true-hearted, noble queen,
Was in the battel slain;
Yet he, good king, in his old days,
Possest his crown again.
But when he heard Cordelia's death,
Who died indeed for love
Of her dear father, in whose cause
She did this battle move,
He swooning fell upon her breast,
From whence he never parted;
But on her bosom left his life
That was so truly hearted.
The lords and nobles, when they saw
The end of these events,
The other sisters unto death
They doomed by consents;
And being dead, their crowns they left
Unto the next of kin:
Thus have you seen the fall of pride,
And disobedient sin.
poem by Anonymous Olde English
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Gett Off
Club mix
Club mix
How can I put this in a way so as not to offend or unnerve
Theres a rumor goin all round that u aint been gettin served
They say that u aint u know what
In baby who knows how long
Its hard 4 me 2 say whats right
When all I wanna do is wrong
Gett off - 23 positions in a 1 night stand
Gett off - Ill only call u after if u say I can
Gett off - let a woman be a woman and a man be a man
Gett off - I u want 2 baby here I am (here I am)
I clocked the jizz from a friend
Of yours named vanessa bet (bet)
She said u told her a fantasy
That got her all wet (wet)
Something about a little box with a
Mirror and a tongue inside
What she told me then got me so hot
I knew that we could slide
Gett off - 23 positions in a 1 night stand
Gett off - Ill only call u after if u say I can
Gett off - let a woman be a woman and a man be a man
Gett off - I u want 2 baby here I am (here I am)
Gett off (gett off)
1 2 3 - nah, little cutie, I aint drinkin (gett off)
Scope this, I was just thinkin
U + me, what a ride
If u was thinkin the same
We could continue outside (gett off)
Lay your pretty body against a parkin meter
Strip your dress down
Like I was strippin a peter pauls almond joy
Lemme show u baby Im a talented boy
Everybody grab a body
Pump it like u want somebody
Gett off (gett off)
So here we-so here we-so here we are, here we are (g-g-gett off)
In my paisley crib
Whatcha want 2 eat? ribs
Ha, toy, I dont serve ribs...
U better be happy that dress is still on
I heard the rip when u sat down
Honey them hips is gone
Thats alright, I clock em that way
Remind me of something james used to say...
I like em fat
I like em proud
Ya gotta have a mother for me
Now move your big ass round this way
So I can work on that zipper, baby
Tonight your a star
And Im the big dipper
(kick it)
(gett off)
(gett off)
How can I put this in a way so as not to offend or unnerve (gett off)
Theres a rumor goin all round that u aint been gettin served (gett off)
They say that u aint u know what
In baby who knows how long (gett off)
Its hard 4 me 2 say whats right
When all I wanna do is wrong
Gett off - 23 positions in a 1 night stand
Gett off - Ill only call u after if u say I can
Gett off - let a woman be a woman and a man be a man
Gett off - I u want 2 baby here I am
Come on
Gett off
Gett off
Gett off
Gett off
Gett off
Gett off
Gett off
Gett off
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Satisfied
When I started writing
almost half century ago,
I wrote for the wrong reason
and that was to get rich quick.
As the years progressed
one, two, five and ten
my reasons for writing changed
I began to love what I did.
As my love grew for words
the better, I got
and now I take my time
with everything I write.
Today I have what I want
a readership wanting more.
I could not of wished
for anything better.
They say life is what you make it.
I made mine with a satisfied mind.
I may not be rich in money,
but I have friends by the score.
Success is not about riches,
it is about being appreciated
for whatever you choose to do
and I have found my success now.
I live my life satisfied;
I am at peace with the world.
My friends stretch around the globe
and I cannot ask for anything more.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wings
I felt wings being put upon my back
I knew there was no turning back
I had left this material world, and took
the steps up to the sky.
I knew I was dead! I just couldn’t understand
How or why. Why did I leave all that I loved
Friends, family, and my loved ones
To climb the steps up to the sky.
WHY? WHY? WHY?
This question kept pounding in my brain.
What did I do, am I going insane?
If I am dead, what am I doing here?
I feel myself walking on the ground.
Yet! I don’t hear no words, no sounds.
Am I between heaven and hell?
Then what am I doing here.?
Then I heard a voice say:
Sometimes spirits find it hard to leave
For in their hearts they do grieve.
You will learn that things are not what they seem to be
There is a difference between spiritual and reality.
They both walk side by side, and can affect you
No matter what you try.
You was chosen to leave this world
And that’s the reason you have those wings
For you will be into everything.
You will show people love, compassion, hope, and faith
Before it becomes much too late.
You will show people how to care, and how to share
How to give strength when there’s no one there.
How to move on in life, and go thru the struggles and strife.
There are so many things that you must do
That’s the reason that I picked you.
So spread your wings and spread them wide
For you have a long ways to fly.
There is someone waiting for you, and when you
Get there, you’ll know what to do.
So I flew to where he said: this was something I did dread.
The person that he sent me to see, was a relative that I once knew
Cancer cells were eating her away, and by her side her family did pray.
Somehow she saw me when I entered the room
She asked me if it was time- I said it was much too soon.
I told her she had to make peace with everyone she knew
And that would take a day or two.
She smiled and said: I understand!
Will you sit and hold my hand.
I held her hand till it was time to depart
For her new life was about to start.
She saw a band of angels in back of me
And they all began to sing.
HALLELUJAH TO THE NEW BORN KING
Now I felt that I earned my wings
Bringing people home was an exhilarating thing.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song Dream
She found the reason to dream
The impossible dream
She found the reason to smile again
She found the reason to sing the love songs to you
She found the reason to be happy again
She found the reason to start over by loving you and me
She has learned her lesson
And she would not be here today if it wasn’t for God
God forgave her once again
And gave her one more chance
The chance of a lifetime
Song dream
Is her song
The song she sings
Before she goes to sleep every night
Her life has turned around
It became better
She showed more respect and love to others
Love is the best gift you can give your boy friend
Love is putting your hand out to help your boy friend
Love is all the little things to put in to a dream
My heart is yours forever
It is a part of the dream
In her dream one night
She saw the ships
Sailing in the harbor
And you and her
Was sailing in this ship
The harbor so big and so beautiful
The song dream
Is her favorite song
She found dreaming to be peaceful and relaxing
When she sleeps
The song dream
She has more joy out of her life now
Than she did before
The song dream will never end
It is part of her life
Let’s sing along once more
The song of dream
Because that is her song
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Chamber Of 32 Doors
At the top of the stairs he finds a chamber. it is almost a hemisphere with a great many doors all the way round its circumference. there is a large crowd, huddled in various groups. from the sh
G, rael learns that there are 32 doors, but only one that leads out. their voices get louder and louder until rael screams shut up! there is a momentary silence and then rael finds h
F the focus as they direct their advice and commands to their new found recruit. bred on trash, fed on ash the jigsaw master has got to move faster. rael sees a quiet corner and rushes to it.
At the top of the stairs, theres hundreds of people,
Running around to all the doors.
They try to find, find themselves an audience;
Their deductions need applause.
The rich man stands in front of me,
The poor man behind my back.
They believe they can control the game,
But the juggler holds another pack.
I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.
I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.
Id rather trust a countryman than a townman,
You can judge by his eyes, take a look if you can,
Hell smile through his guard,
Survival trains hard.
Id rather trust a man who works with his hands,
He looks at you once, you know he understands,
Dont need any shield,
When youre out in the field.
But down here,
Im so alone with my fear,
With everything that I hear.
And every single door, that Ive walked through
Brings me back here again,
Ive got to find my own way.
The priest and the magician,
Singing all the chants that they have ever heard;
And theyre all calling out my name,
Even academics, searching printed word.
My father to the left of me,
My mother to the right,
Like everyone else theyre pointing
But nowhere feels quite right.
And I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.
I need someone to believe in, someone to trust.
Id rather trust a man who doesnt shout what hes found,
Theres no need to sell if youre homeward bound.
If I choose a side,
He wont take me for a ride.
Back inside
This chamber of so many doors;
Ive nowhere, nowhere to hide.
Id give you all of my dreams, if youd help me,
Find a door
That doesnt lead me back again
- take me away.
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Way Out
As I was wading through your distance
I heard you say theres no way out
And I was just thinking as my independence faded
Well theres no way in for me
Theres no way out and you know
Theres no way in
Were on either side
Scared to say were friends
Now I found jesus and you found yourself
Sometimes I still feel like Im losing out
But we both found that its just too hard to know for sure
Just what we can lean on when were falling down
You always did see
The other side of things and sometimes
Im bound to wonder
Do you see through me
With all the voids I tried to fill
And all the emptiness I tried to tell you about
There was never time enough
There are never words enough
And Ill never have the guts enough
But Ill tell you Ive been needing you so bad
Theres no way out and you know
Theres no way in for me now
And were on either side
And were crying for a friend
Theres no way out and you said
Theres no way in for me now
And were on either side
And were scared to say were friends
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Echoes Of Love's House
Love gives every gift whereby we long to live
“Love takes every gift, and nothing back doth give.”
Love unlocks the lips that else were ever dumb:
“Love locks up the lips whence all things good might come.”
Love makes clear the eyes that else would never see:
“Love makes blind the eyes to all but me and thee.”
Love turns life to joy till nought is left to gain:
“Love turns life to woe till hope is nought and vain.”
Love, who changest all, change me nevermore!
“Love, who changest all, change my sorrow sore!”
Love burns up the world to changeless heaven and blest,
“Love burns up the world to a void of all unrest.”
And there we twain are left, and no more work we need:
“And I am left alone, and who my work shall heed?”
Ah! I praise thee, Love, for utter joyance won!
“And is my praise nought worth for all my life undone?”
poem by William Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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