On The Life Of Man
What is our life? a play of passion;
Our mirth the musick of division:
Our mother's wombes the tyring houses bee
Where wee are drest for tyme's short comedy:
The earth's the stage, heaven the spectator is,
Who marketh still whoere doth act amisse:
Our graves that hide us from the burning sunne
Are but drawne curtaynes when the play is done
poem by William Strode
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What is Our Life
WHAT is our life? The play of passion.
Our mirth? The music of division:
Our mothers’ wombs the tiring-houses be,
Where we are dressed for life’s short comedy.
The earth the stage; Heaven the spectator is,
Who sits and views whosoe’er doth act amiss.
The graves which hide us from the scorching sun
Are like drawn curtains when the play is done.
Thus playing post we to our latest rest,
And then we die in earnest, not in jest.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
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Life
What is our life? A play of passion,
Our mirth the music of division,
Our mother's wombs the tiring-houses be,
Where we are dressed for this short comedy.
Heaven the judicious sharp spectator is,
That sits and marks still who doth act amiss.
Our graves that hide us from the setting sun
Are like drawn curtains when the play is done.
Thus march we, playing, to our latest rest,
Only we die in earnest, that's no jest.
poem by Sir Walter Raleigh
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On The Life And Death Of Man
The world's a theatre. The earth, a stage
Placed in the midst: where both prince and page,
Both rich and poor, fool, wise man, base and high,
All act their parts in life's short tragedy.
Our life's a tragedy. Those secret rooms,
Wherein we 'tire us, are our mothers' wombs.
The music ushering in the play is mirth
To see a man-child brought upon the earth.
That fainting gasp of breath which first we vent,
Is a dumb show; presents the argument.
Our new-born cries, that new-born griefs bewray,
Are the sad prologue of the ensuing play.
False hopes, true fears, vain joys, and fierce distracts,
Are like the music that divides the Acts.
Time holds the glass, and when the hour's outrun,
Death strikes the epilogue, and the play is done.
poem by Francis Quarles
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Ode. Written On The Blank Page Before Beaumont And Fletcher's Tragi-Comedy 'The Fair Maid Of The Inn
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Doubled-lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wondrous,
And the parle of voices thund'rous;
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease
Seated on Elysian lawns
Browsed by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and its mysteries.
Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumber'd, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;
What doth strengthen and what maim.
Thus ye teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Ye have souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new!
poem by John Keats
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Ode
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Double lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wound'rous,
And the parle of voices thund'rous;
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease.
Seated on Elysian lawns
Brows'd by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and its mysteries.
Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumber'd, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;
What doth strengthen and what maim.
Thus ye teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Ye have souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new!
poem by John Keats
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Upon The Skilfull Player Of An Instrument
He that can play well on an instrument,
Will take the ear, and captivate the mind
With mirth or sadness; for that it is bent
Thereto, as music in it place doth find.
But if one hears that hath therein no skill,
(As often music lights of such a chance)
Of its brave notes they soon be weary will:
And there are some can neither sing nor dance.
Comparison.
Unto him that thus skilfully doth play,
God doth compare a gospel-minister,
That rightly preacheth, and doth godly pray,
Applying truly what doth thence infer.
This man, whether of wrath or grace he preach,
So skilfully doth handle every word;
And by his saying doth the heart so reach,
That it doth joy or sigh before the Lord.
But some there be, which, as the brute, doth lie
Under the Word, without the least advance
Godward; such do despise the ministry;
They weep not at it, neither to it dance.
poem by John Bunyan
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Mortification
How soon doth man decay!
When clothes are taken from a chest of sweets
To swaddle infants, whose young breath
Scarce knows the way;
Those clouts are little winding-sheets,
Which do consign and send them unto Death.
When boyes go first to bed,
They step into their voluntarie graves;
Sleep binds them fast; onely their breath
Makes them not dead:
Successive nights, like rolling waves,
Convey them quickly who are bound for Death.
When Youth is frank and free,
And calls for musick, while his veins do swell,
All day exchanging mirth and breath
In companie,
That musick summons to the knell
Which shall befriend him at the house of Death.
When man grows staid and wise,
Getting a house and home, where he may move
Within the circle of his breath,
Schooling his eyes,
That dumbe inclosure maketh love
Unto the coffin, that attends his death.
When Age grows low and weak,
Marking his grave, and thawing ev'ry year,
Till all do melt and drown his breath
When he would speak,
A chair or litter shows the biere
Which shall convey him to the house of Death.
Man, ere he is aware,
Hath put together a solemnitie,
And drest his hearse, while he has breath
As yet to spare;
Yet, Lord, instruct us so to die,
That all these dyings may be LIFE in DEATH.
poem by George Herbert
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Bards of Passion and of Mirth, written on the Blank Page before Beaumont and Fletcher's Tragi-Comedy 'The Fair Maid of the Inn
BARDS of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Have ye souls in heaven too,
Doubled-lived in regions new?
Yes, and those of heaven commune
With the spheres of sun and moon;
With the noise of fountains wondrous,
And the parle of voices thund'rous;
With the whisper of heaven's trees
And one another, in soft ease
Seated on Elysian lawns
Browsed by none but Dian's fawns;
Underneath large blue-bells tented,
Where the daisies are rose-scented,
And the rose herself has got
Perfume which on earth is not;
Where the nightingale doth sing
Not a senseless, tranced thing,
But divine melodious truth;
Philosophic numbers smooth;
Tales and golden histories
Of heaven and its mysteries.
Thus ye live on high, and then
On the earth ye live again;
And the souls ye left behind you
Teach us, here, the way to find you,
Where your other souls are joying,
Never slumber'd, never cloying.
Here, your earth-born souls still speak
To mortals, of their little week;
Of their sorrows and delights;
Of their passions and their spites;
Of their glory and their shame;
What doth strengthen and what maim.
Thus ye teach us, every day,
Wisdom, though fled far away.
Bards of Passion and of Mirth,
Ye have left your souls on earth!
Ye have souls in heaven too,
Double-lived in regions new!
poem by John Keats
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The Play
Hey look at you now
Don't cry, pick yourself off the ground
You say you're through with love and..
It tore you down
And you tried to stay and take it somehow
Your whole life's ahead now
Don't let it get to you
There's no real reason to
Carry the weight of the world
Hey, it's not what we say
It's how we act here today
It's all in the play on the stage
Hey look at you now, you smile but I see you hurt
You can't hide that from me
You tell me you know
But that's not the way things have to go
When love breaks you down
Don't let it get to you
There's no real reason to
Carry the weight of the world
Hey, no it's not what we say
Its how we act here today
It's all in the play on the stage
Life can be so cruel
Love makes us play the fool
But there'll always be better days
Don't let it get to you
There's no real reason to
Carry the weight of the world
Hey, no it's not what we say
It's how we act here today
Cause we're all in the play on the stage
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Invisible Bars
It's not prison bars in front of my face
that take my freedom away.
It's people that want to control the world
that won't let my freedom stay.
It's not a cage that traps me inside
and won't allow me to fly.
It's the powerful ones that always hide
just waiting for me to die.
7 billion bodies now on this earth
and most of them aren't free.
It's a tragic play for most of us
that turned into a comedy.
But then the stage was always set
before we came to this place
to take my freedom away from me
with invisible bars before my face.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Something Special
Maurice white, wayne vaughn & wanda vaughn
Love is like something special
Compared to none, its pure celestial
The game of love and life is here to stay
Day by day, your heart will find a way to win
Love is like the same ole game we use to play
Hide and seek from yesterday is still in play
Love is like something special
Burns like fire and keeps you warm
To play the game of love and not get burned
Win or lose, learn the rules, its all in livin
Love is like the same ole game we use to play
Hide and seek from yesterday is still in play
Love and games, the burning flame
Love and games, remains the same
Love and games, the same ole pain
Love is like something special
Your fragrance is the spice if life
The game of love, it seems to have no age
Wind the clock, move the hands, now lets turn the page
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain
Raindrops fall in gray of morn
Care not what they wet or sate
'Law of gravity' dare not scorn
Dark seas below determine fate
Droplets unite to swell great oceans
With playful merriment and mirth
Pleased to play out such impulsive notions
So they can flow again on Mother Earth
Emerald waters eager to ascend once more
Taunt ‘n tease the summer sun to calefaction
Vaporous clouds form as many times before
Heaven’s call doth gift the water satisfaction
God Be Great and God Be Wise
When Commands, “Great Waters Rise! ”
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Play To Play
Play to play
Not for home
Not for bed...
Play to
The ground...
Play with
Ball and the bat
OR run and play...
Live your body
Good for health
Have the nice...!
Twice the day
Morning and
Evening go to play...
That is secerat
Of your life
Understand
To try with
Play to play
Day by day....!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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The seasoned one has value
Dear,
I can’t play
The youngsters played,
The play of romance,
The play of hides and seeks
And the play of abandonment.
Dear,
I still can play
The youngsters failed,
The play of passion,
The play of care and concern
And the play of enrichment.
That is why
You, half my age,
At your middle age,
Still find in me repose,
Still find in me sway and solace
And seek the sex fulfillment.
20.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Play not on me
.
Mere the name of you
When someone mentions
Why should I go berserk?
The very face of you
Even after you left me,
Why should I hang on?
The seat you sat on,
Whenever I cross over,
Tells me your presence. Why?
You’re no more obliged.
I’m no more privileged.
Yet I pursue the mirage. Why?
The more you neglect
The more you titillate.
I grow desperate. Why?
You know- why?
You want to be
Merely a spectator.
You know- why?
You want only me
To play and amuse.
Play with me
But not play on me.
24.09.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Mother earth is crying
Mother earth is crying
The way man is treating
Water in scarcity
Rivers not deep
Houses and houses
Whole earth
Filled with factories
Their waste spoiling the soil
Creating a big turmoil
Greenery decreasing
Trees cut without thinking
Forests shrinking
Cities are increasing
Animals are dying
Snow melting
Heat is increasing
Mining and digging
Are like stabbing
Mother earth on the chest
For few grand
Lakes are full of filth
Fewer trees for shelter
Fewer birds now chirp
Let wisdom arrive
Don’t play with nature
Otherwise all will cry
No man will survive
Humans now wake
For your own sake
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Sport
The merry waves dance up and down, and play,
Sport is granted to the sea;
Birds are the choristers of the empty air,
Sport is never wanting there.
The ground doth smile at the spring's flowery birth,
Sport is granted to the earth;
The fire its cheering flame on high doth rear,
Sport is never wanting there,
If all the elements, the earth, the sea,
Air, and fire, so merry be,
Why is man's mirth so seldom and so small,
Who is compounded of them all?
poem by Abraham Cowley
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Flora
am the handmaid of the earth,
I broider fair her glorious gown,
And deck her on her days of mirth
With many a garland of renown.
And while Earth's little ones are fain
And play about the Mother's hem,
I scatter every gift I gain
From sun and wind to gladden them.
poem by William Morris
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Pom-pom Play Girl
Rah rah pom pom play girl
Pom pom play girl
(oooooo)
You see her in a short skirt down on the grass
Shes wonderin if the teams gonna run kick or pass
(chi chi bah oooooo)
Since she doesnt really know why shes wavin her hands
Shes a-thinking bout the boy sittin up in the stands
Rah rah pom pom play girl
Pom pom play girl
(chi chi bah)
Just a little social clique with the other song queens
With a freshman or a sophomore she wouldnt be seen
(chi chi bah oooooo)
Shes a doll and she knows it and she thinks that her face
Will get her any body any thing and any place
Rah rah pom pom play girl
Pom pom play girl
Oooooo
Chi chi bah
(oooooo)
Since shes the head cheerleader she dates the quarterback
And her best friends going out with the full back
(chi chi bah oooooo)
She might even run for an office this spring
And that ought to really make her telephone ring
Rah rah pom pom play girl
Pom pom play girl
(chi chi bah pom pom play girl)
Wooooo
(chi chi bah pom pom play girl)
Wooo
(chi chi bah pom pom play girl)
Shake it
(chi chi bah pom pom play girl)
Wave those pom poms all around
(chi chi bah pom pom play girl)
(chi chi bah pom pom play girl)
(chi chi bah pom pom play girl)
Wow
(chi chi bah pom pom play girl)
Wow
(chi chi bah pom pom play girl)
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come Outside And Play
Can U come outside and play?!
Give me your name and number
Give me the keys 2 your ride
Put the top down
Let me cruise up the ocean side
Let me put my arm around U
Unsnap your self-consciousness
Take off everything except your stockings
I wanna kiss U more or less
Can U come outside and play? {"Play" repeats is BG of song}
Tell me baby, what do U say?
I got a bet goin' with my partner
That U're the best kisser in L.A.
If I'm, uh, out of line, U can tell me
But if I'm not, we can get busy
Come on baby, tell me what do U say?
Can U come outside and play?
Play! Play!
Take off everything except your stockings
I wanna kiss U more or less {x3}
I wanna.. I wanna.. I wanna..
I wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna, wanna play!
I got a bet goin' with my partner
That U're the best kisser in L.A.
Come on baby, come on baby
Come on, come outside and play {x3}
Play
(Can U come outside and play?)
Come outside and play!
(Play) {x8}
(Can U come outside and play?)
(Play) {x15}
(Can U come..)
(Can U come..)
(Can U come outside..)
(Can U come outside and play?)
U'll be fine {segue}
We can withstand the test of time
It's all or nothing
Everything we do
Even when I can't be
Can't be with U
It doesn't mean U're any farther away
Just means we're still prisoners
Not entirely free
There's a new age dawning
Slowly opening heaven's door
Contrary 2 rumour
Heaven is keeping score
The New Power Generation has just taken control
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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