An Address to Shakespeare
Immortal! William Shakespeare, there's none can you excel,
You have drawn out your characters remarkably well,
Which is delightful for to see enacted upon the stage
For instance, the love-sick Romeo, or Othello, in a rage;
His writings are a treasure, which the world cannot repay,
He was the greatest poet of the past or of the present day
Also the greatest dramatist, and is worthy of the name,
I'm afraid the world shall never look upon his like again.
His tragedy of Hamlet is moral and sublime,
And for purity of langucge, nothing can be more fine
For instance, to hear the fair Ophelia making her moan,
At her father's grave, sad and alone....
In his beautiful play, "As You Like If," one passage is very fine,
Just for instance in fhe forest of Arden, the language is sublime,
Where Orlando speaks of his Rosilind, most lovely and divine,
And no other poet I am sure has written anything more fine;
His language is spoken in the Church and by the Advocate at the bar,
Here and there and everywhere throughout the world afar;
His writings abound with gospel truths, moral and sublime,
And I'm sure in my opinion they are surpassing fine;
In his beautiful tragedy of Othello, one passage is very fine,
Just for instance where Cassio looses his lieutenancy
... By drinking too much wine;
And in grief he exclaims, "Oh! that men should put an
Enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains."
In his great tragedy of Richard the III, one passage is very fine
Where the Duchess of York invokes the aid of the Divine
For to protect her innocent babes from the murderer's uplifted hand,
And smite him powerless, and save her babes, I'm sure 'tie really grand.
Immortal! Bard of Avon, your writings are divine,
And will live in the memories of you admirers until the end of time;
Your plays are read in family ciFcles with wonder and delight,
While seated around the fireside on a cold winter's night.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Related quotes
Robert Burns
Immortal Robert Burns of Ayr,
There's but few poets can with you compare;
Some of your poems and songs are very fine:
To "Mary in Heaven" is most sublime;
And then again in your "Cottar's Saturday Night,"
Your genius there does shine most bright,
As pure as the dewdrops of the night.
Your "Tam O'Shanter" is very fine,
Both funny, racy, and divine,
From John O'Groats to Dumfries
All critics consider it to be a masterpiece,
And, also, you have said the same,
Therefore they are not to blame.
And in my own opinion both you and they are right,
For your genius there does sparkle bright,
Which I most solemnly declare
To thee, Immortal Bard of Ayr!
Your "Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doon"
Is sweet and melodious in its tune,
And the poetry is moral and sublime,
And in my opinion nothing can be more fine.
Your "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled"
Is most beautiful to hear sung or read;
For your genius there does shine as bright,
Like unto the stars of night
Immortal Bard of Ayr! I must conclude my muse
To speak in praise of thee does not refuse,
For you were a mighty poet, few could with you compare,
And also an honour to Scotland, for your genius it is rare.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Lines in Defence of the Stage
Good people of high and low degree,
I pray ye all be advised by me,
And don't believe what the clergy doth say,
That by going to the theatre you will be led astray.
No, in the theatre we see vice punished and virtue rewarded,
The villain either hanged or shot, and his career retarded;
Therefore the theatre is useful in every way,
And has no inducement to lead the people astray.
Because therein we see the end of the bad men,
Which must appall the audience - deny it who can
Which will help to retard them from going astray,
While witnessing in a theatre a moral play.
The theatre ought to be encouraged in every respect,
Because example is better than precept,
And is bound to have a greater effect
On the minds of theatre-goers in every respect.
Sometimes in theatres, guilty creatures there have been
Struck to the soul by the cunning of the scene;
By witnessing a play wherein murder is enacted,
They were proven to be murderers, they felt so distracted,
And left the theatre, they felt so much fear,
Such has been the case, so says Shakespeare.
And such is my opinion, I will venture to say,
That murderers will quake with fear on seeing murder in a play.
Hamlet discovered his father's murderer by a play
That he composed for the purpose, without dismay,
And the king, his uncle, couldn't endure to see that play,
And he withdrew from the scene without delay.
And by that play the murder was found out,
And clearly proven, without any doubt;
Therefore, stage representation has a greater effect
On the minds of the people than religious precept.
We see in Shakespeare's tragedy of Othello, which is sublime,
Cassio losing his lieutenancy through drinking wine;
And, in delirium and grief, he exclaims -
"Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains!"
A young man in London went to the theatre one night
To see the play of George Barnwell, and he got a great fright;
He saw George Barnwell murder his uncle in the play,
And he had resolved to murder his uncle, but was stricken with dismay.
But when he saw George Barnwell was to be hung
The dread of murdering his uncle tenaciously to him clung,
That he couldn't murder and rob his uncle dear,
Because the play he saw enacted filled his heart with fear.
And, in conclusion, I will say without dismay,
Visit the theatre without delay,
Because the theatre is a school of morality,
And hasn't the least tendency to lead to prodigality.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Automatic Relationship
There is something missing or
The way is wrong
How can the life define?
Having with a sentence in few words
You ask "how are you"
I say "I am fine"
When I say as that
Why I become uneasy
I want to utter more than fine
I don't know you have time
Tone and rhythm of yours and mine
Differently together which are going
Not to carry on further more
Your question expects a result no
Knowing of the moment so
We both pretend to our soul core
"How are you" the question
"I am fine" the intention
If the reality so far mention
May you join with me again?
poem by Udaya R. Tennakoon
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Very Fine Love
(bob dipiero / jim photoglo)
I never knew how good love could be
All Id ever known was make believe
So many times Ive played the fool
Baby, til I met you
Now everything has fallen in place
You can tell by the smile on my face
For every lonely tear that Ive cried
Im that much satisfied
Weve got a fine, fine, very fine love
Weve got a fine, fine, very fine love
You know it when you find one
Shining like a diamond
Its so fine, fine, very fine love
How did I ever live without your love?
Its the only thing Im certain of
No matter what Im going through
I know I can count on you
You are more precious to me every day
Life is better now in every way
You dont have to lay the world at my feet
You have made my world complete
Weve got a fine, fine, very fine love, oh, oh
Weve got a fine, fine, very fine love
You know it when you find one
Shining like a diamond
Its so fine, so fine, very fine love
Ive got no apprehensions
Youve got the best intentions
Weve got a, weve got a, weve got a fine, fine, very fine love
Weve got a fine, fine, very fine love
A very fine
A very fine love
Very fine love, ah, ha, ooh, hoo
So fine, hey, so fine
So good, so good love
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fine, Fine, Very Fine Love
I never knew how good a love could be
all i'd ever known was make beleive
so many times i played the fool
baby till i met you
now everything has fallen in place
you can tell by the smile on my face
for every lonely tear that i've cried
i'm that much satisfied
(Chrous)
We've got a fine fine very fine love
We''ve got a fine fine very fine love
You know it when you find one shining like a diamond
It's so fine fine very fine love
You are more precious to me every day
life is better now in every way
you don't have to lay the world at my feet
you have made my world complete
(Chorus)
I've got no apprehensions
you've got the best intentions
we've got a we've got a ..
fine fine very fine love
(Chorus)
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Manners
For a Child of 1918
My grandfather said to me
as we sat on the wagon seat,
"Be sure to remember to always
speak to everyone you meet."
We met a stranger on foot.
My grandfather's whip tapped his hat.
"Good day, sir. Good day. A fine day."
And I said it and bowed where I sat.
Then we overtook a boy we knew
with his big pet crow on his shoulder.
"Always offer everyone a ride;
don't forget that when you get older,"
my grandfather said. So Willy
climbed up with us, but the crow
gave a "Caw!" and flew off. I was worried.
How would he know where to go?
But he flew a little way at a time
from fence post to fence post, ahead;
and when Willy whistled he answered.
"A fine bird," my grandfather said,
"and he's well brought up. See, he answers
nicely when he's spoken to.
Man or beast, that's good manners.
Be sure that you both always do."
When automobiles went by,
the dust hid the people's faces,
but we shouted "Good day! Good day!
Fine day!" at the top of our voices.
When we came to Hustler Hill,
he said that the mare was tired,
so we all got down and walked,
as our good manners required.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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The Precocious Baby - a Very True Tale
An elderly person - a prophet by trade -
With his quips and tips
On withered old lips,
He married a young and a beautiful maid;
The cunning old blade!
Though rather decayed,
He married a beautiful, beautiful maid.
She was only eighteen, and as fair as could be,
With her tempting smiles
And maidenly wiles,
And he was a trifle past seventy-three:
Now what she could see
Is a puzzle to me,
In a prophet of seventy - seventy-three!
Of all their acquaintances bidden (or bad)
With their loud high jinks
And underbred winks,
None thought they'd a family have - but they had;
A dear little lad
Who drove 'em half mad,
For he turned out a horribly fast little cad.
For when he was born he astonished all by,
With their "Law, dear me!"
"Did ever you see?"
He'd a pipe in his mouth and a glass in his eye,
A hat all awry -
An octagon tie -
And a miniature - miniature glass in his eye.
He grumbled at wearing a frock and a cap,
With his "Oh, dear, oh!"
And his "Hang it! 'oo know!"
And he turned up his nose at his excellent pap -
"My friends, it's a tap
Dat is not worf a rap."
(Now this was remarkably excellent pap.)
He'd chuck his nurse under the chin, and he'd say,
With his "Fal, lal, lal" -
"'Oo doosed fine gal!"
This shocking precocity drove 'em away:
"A month from to-day
Is as long as I'll stay -
Then I'd wish, if you please, for to toddle away."
His father, a simple old gentleman, he
With nursery rhyme
And "Once on a time,"
Would tell him the story of "Little Bo-P,"
"So pretty was she,
So pretty and wee,
As pretty, as pretty, as pretty could be."
But the babe, with a dig that would startle an ox,
With his "C'ck! Oh, my! -
Go along wiz 'oo, fie!"
Would exclaim, "I'm afraid 'oo a socking ole fox."
Now a father it shocks,
And it whitens his locks,
When his little babe calls him a shocking old fox.
The name of his father he'd couple and pair
(With his ill-bred laugh,
And insolent chaff)
With those of the nursery heroines rare -
Virginia the Fair,
Or Good Goldenhair,
Till the nuisance was more than a prophet could bear.
"There's Jill and White Cat" (said the bold little brat,
With his loud, "Ha, ha!")
"'Oo sly ickle Pa!
Wiz 'oo Beauty, Bo-Peep, and 'oo Mrs. Jack Sprat!
I've noticed 'oo pat
MY pretty White Cat -
I sink dear mamma ought to know about dat!"
He early determined to marry and wive,
For better or worse
With his elderly nurse -
Which the poor little boy didn't live to contrive:
His hearth didn't thrive -
No longer alive,
He died an enfeebled old dotard at five!
MORAL.
Now, elderly men of the bachelor crew,
With wrinkled hose
And spectacled nose,
Don't marry at all - you may take it as true
If ever you do
The step you will rue,
For your babes will be elderly - elderly too.
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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A Descriptive Poem on the Silvery Tay
Beautiful silvery Tay,
With your landscapes, so lovely and gay,
Along each side of your waters, to Perth all the way;
No other river in the world has got scenery more fine,
Only I am told the beautiful Rhine,
Near to Wormit Bay, it seems very fine,
Where the Railway Bridge is towering above its waters sublime,
And the beautiful ship Mars,
With her Juvenile Tare,
Both lively and gay,
Does carelessly lie By night and by day,
In the beautiful Bay
Of the silvery Tay.
Beautiful, beautiful silvery Tay,
Thy scenery is enchanting on a fine summer day,
Near by Balnerino it is beautiful to behold,
When the trees are in full bloom and the cornfields seems like gold -
And nature's face seems gay,
And the lambkins they do play,
And the humming bee is on the wing,
It is enough to make one sing,
While they carelessly do stray,
Along the beautiful banks of the silvery Tay,
Beautiful silvery Tay,
Rolling smoothly on your way,
Near by Newport, as clear as the day,
Thy scenery around is charming I'll be bound...
And would make the heart of any one feel light and gay on a fine summer day,
To view the beautiful scenery along the banks of the silvery Tay.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Drama's Vitallest Expression is the Common Day
741
Drama's Vitallest Expression is the Common Day
That arise and set about Us—
Other Tragedy
Perish in the Recitation—
This—the best enact
When the Audience is scattered
And the Boxes shut—
"Hamlet" to Himself were Hamlet—
Had not Shakespeare wrote—
Though the "Romeo" left no Record
Of his Juliet,
It were infinite enacted
In the Human Heart—
Only Theatre recorded
Owner cannot shut—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Sonnet V: Nothing But No
Nothing but "No," and "Aye," and "Aye," and "No"?
How falls it out so strangely you reply?
I tell ye, Fair, I'll not be answer'd so,
With this affirming "No," denying "Aye."
I say, "I love," you slightly answer "Aye";
I say, "You love," you pule me out a "No";
I say, "I die," you echo me an "Aye";
"Save me," I cry, you sigh me out a "No";
Must woe and I have nought but "No" and "Aye"?
No I am I, if I no more can have;
Answer no more, with silence make reply,
And let me take myself what I do crave.
Let "No" and "Aye" with I and you be so;
Then answer "No," and "Aye," and "Aye" and "No."
poem by Michael Drayton
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The Sign
Around the nation, around the world
Whats been going down?
A million voices, one question hurled
Heard in every town
All of the people, one simple plea
What will happen now?
Asked in concern for their destiny
Got to know somehow
They say
They say
Everything will be fine
Everything will be fine
Everything will be fine
I saw the sign
So if you want to know whats going on
Going round and round
Youd better ask before your world is gone
Gone without a sound
They say
They say
Everything will be fine
Everything will be fine
Everything will be fine
I saw the sign
Everything will be fine
Everything will be fine
Everything will be fine
I saw the sign
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Intimacy
I hear people say, "I love my iPhone, "
Or, "I love drinking a Starbucks coffee."
Sometimes: "I love my Versace cologne, "
And also: "I love having this money."
I hear people say, "I love my Walmart, "
Or, "I love the drive-thru at Taco Bell."
"I love my TV. It's state of the art."
"I love the shoes that Nike has to sell."
I hear this: "I love American Idol, "
And, "I love a nice, cold Budweiser."
"I love medicines such as Demerol."
And, "I love my internet provider."
Yet, one thing I don't hear is, "I love you."
Saying that is too intimate to do.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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The Argument
Said Jock McBrown to Tam McSmith,
"A little bet I'm game to take on,
That I can scotch this Shakespeare myth
And prove Will just a stoodge for Bacon."
Said Tam McSmith to Jock McBrown,
"Ye gyke, I canna let ye rave on.
See here, I put a shilling down:
My betting's on the Bard of Avon."
Said Jock McBrown to Tam McSmith,
"Come on, ye'll pay a braw wee dramlet;
Bacon's my bet - the proof herewith . . .
He called his greatest hero - HAMlet."
poem by Robert William Service
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Tonight Will Be Fine
Sometimes I find I get to thinking of the past.
We swore to each other then that our love would surely last.
You kept right on loving, I went on a fast,
Now I am too thin and your love is too vast.
But I know from your eyes
And I know from your smile
That tonight will be fine,
Will be fine, will be fine, will be fine
For a while.
I choose the rooms that I live in with care,
The windows are small and the walls almost bare,
Theres only one bed and theres only one prayer;
I listen all night for your step on the stair.
But I know from your eyes
And I know from your smile
That tonight will be fine,
Will be fine, will be fine, will be fine
For a while.
Oh sometimes I see her undressing for me,
Shes the soft naked lady love meant her to be
And shes moving her body so brave and so free.
If Ive got to remember thats a fine memory.
And I know from her eyes
And I know from her smile
That tonight will be fine,
Will be fine, will be fine, will be fine
For a while.
song performed by by Leonard Cohen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yoy want anything
You want anything
"You want anything from me "
I told her to be frank and free"
She did not stop looking down
It was sheer fault of my own
I loved her and confided many times
Yet she had apprehensions sometimes
Any serious girl may think hundred times
Before making her self available on that line
I have great regard for her sense of pride
Many a times she opined and did not hide
I was afraid to face her in day light
As she never crossed the way to fight
This was my first encounter with her
She was bold and brave with no fear
"I shall face world but not go back"
To my words even if so much is at stake
I left her in lurch and went abroad
As I was poor and down with debt load
I had to make move with heavy heart
Even though I resolved in mind to make her part
Today I am back after many years
I wanted same original voice to be heard in ears
I sent for her a message with flower
To see me in private but not at place very far
I saw her with pale face but not completely down
She was in complete command and made it known
"I am unmarried yet" but paused in between
"I too same for these many years have been"
We both were passing through same phase
Life was normal but not with any fine base
It lacked warmth and life's discipline
How could everything be smooth and fine?
"I am reformed and at my best"
The past was past and passed off as test
Let us be one again and spend the rest of the journey
She smiled for a while and I thanked almighty
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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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
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The Oldest Drama
"It fell on a day, that he went out to his father to the reapers.
And he said unto his father, My head, my head. And he said to a lad,
Carry him to his mother. And . . . he sat on her knees till noon,
and then died. And she went up, and laid him on the bed. . . .
And shut the door upon him and went out."
Immortal story that no mother's heart
Ev'n yet can read, nor feel the biting pain
That rent her soul! Immortal not by art
Which makes a long past sorrow sting again
Like grief of yesterday: but since it said
In simplest word the truth which all may see,
Where any mother sobs above her dead
And plays anew the silent tragedy.
poem by John McCrae
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The Australian Slanguage
"Tis the everyday Australian
Has a language of his own,
Has a language, or a slanguage,
Which can simply stand alone.
And a "dickon pitch to kid us"
Is a synonym for "lie",
And to "nark it" means to stop it,
And to "nit it" means to fly.
And a bosom friend's a "cobber,"
And a horse a "prad" or "moke,"
While a casual acquaintance
Is a "joker" or a "bloke."
And his lady-love's his "donah"
or his "clinah" or his "tart"
Or his "little bit o' muslin,"
As it used to be his "bart."
And his naming of the coinage
Is a mystery to some,
With his "quid" and "half-a-caser"
And his "deener" and his "scrum".
And a "tin-back" is a party
Who's remarkable for luck,
And his food is called his "tucker"
Or his "panem" or his "chuck".
A policeman is a "johnny"
Or a "copman" or a "trap",
And a thing obtained on credit
Is invariably "strap".
A conviction"s known as "trouble",
And a gaol is called a "jug",
And a sharper is a "spieler"
And a simpleton's a "tug".
If he hits a man in fighting
That is what he calls a "plug",
If he borrows money from you
He will say he "bit your lug."
And to "shake it" is to steal it,
And to "strike it" is to beg;
And a jest is "poking borac",
And a jester "pulls your leg".
Things are "cronk" when they go wrongly
In the language of the "push",
But when things go as he wants 'em
He declares it is "all cush".
When he's bright he's got a "napper",
And he's "ratty" when he's daft,
And when looking for employment
He is "out o' blooming graft".
And his clothes he calls his "clobber"
Or his "togs", but what of that
When a "castor" or a "kady"
Is the name he gives his hat!
And our undiluted English
Is a fad to which we cling,
But the great Australian slanguage
Is a truly awful thing!
poem by William Thomas Goodge
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An Unfortunate Likeness
I'VE painted SHAKESPEARE all my life -
"An infant" (even then at "play"!)
"A boy," with stage-ambition rife,
Then "Married to ANN HATHAWAY."
"The bard's first ticket night" (or "ben."),
His "First appearance on the stage,"
His "Call before the curtain" - then
"Rejoicings when he came of age."
The bard play-writing in his room,
The bard a humble lawyer's clerk.
The bard a lawyer (3) - parson (4) - groom (5) -
The bard deer-stealing, after dark.
The bard a tradesman (6) - and a Jew (7) -
The bard a botanist (8) - a beak (9) -
The bard a skilled musician (10) too -
A sheriff (11) and a surgeon (12) eke!
Yet critics say (a friendly stock)
That, though it's evident I try,
Yet even I can barely mock
The glimmer of his wondrous eye!
One morning as a work I framed,
There passed a person, walking hard:
"My gracious goodness," I exclaimed,
"How very like my dear old bard!
"Oh, what a model he would make!"
I rushed outside - impulsive me! -
"Forgive the liberty I take,
But you're so very" - "Stop!" said he.
"You needn't waste your breath or time, -
I know what you are going to say, -
That you're an artist, and that I'm
Remarkably like SHAKESPEARE. Eh?
"You wish that I would sit to you?"
I clasped him madly round the waist,
And breathlessly replied, "I do!"
"All right," said he, "but please make haste."
I led him by his hallowed sleeve,
And worked away at him apace,
I painted him till dewy eve, -
There never was a nobler face!
"Oh, sir," I said, "a fortune grand
Is yours, by dint of merest chance, -
To sport HIS brow at second-hand,
To wear HIS cast-off countenance!
"To rub HIS eyes whene'er they ache -
To wear HIS baldness ere you're old -
To clean HIS teeth when you awake -
To blow HIS nose when you've a cold!"
His eyeballs glistened in his eyes -
I sat and watched and smoked my pipe;
"Bravo!" I said, "I recognize
The phrensy of your prototype!"
His scanty hair he wildly tore:
"That's right," said I, "it shows your breed."
He danced - he stamped - he wildly swore -
"Bless me, that's very fine indeed!"
"Sir," said the grand Shakesperian boy
(Continuing to blaze away),
"You think my face a source of joy;
That shows you know not what you say.
"Forgive these yells and cellar-flaps:
I'm always thrown in some such state
When on his face well-meaning chaps
This wretched man congratulate.
"For, oh! this face - this pointed chin -
This nose - this brow - these eyeballs too,
Have always been the origin
Of all the woes I ever knew!
"If to the play my way I find,
To see a grand Shakesperian piece,
I have no rest, no ease of mind
Until the author's puppets cease.
"Men nudge each other - thus - and say,
'This certainly is SHAKESPEARE'S son,'
And merry wags (of course in play)
Cry 'Author!' when the piece is done.
"In church the people stare at me,
Their soul the sermon never binds;
I catch them looking round to see,
And thoughts of SHAKESPEARE fill their minds.
"And sculptors, fraught with cunning wile,
Who find it difficult to crown
A bust with BROWN'S insipid smile,
Or TOMKINS'S unmannered frown,
"Yet boldly make my face their own,
When (oh, presumption!) they require
To animate a paving-stone
With SHAKESPEARE'S intellectual fire.
"At parties where young ladies gaze,
And I attempt to speak my joy,
'Hush, pray,' some lovely creature says,
'The fond illusion don't destroy!'
"Whene'er I speak, my soul is wrung
With these or some such whisperings:
''Tis pity that a SHAKESPEARE'S tongue
Should say such un-Shakesperian things!'
"I should not thus be criticised
Had I a face of common wont:
Don't envy me - now, be advised!"
And, now I think of it, I don't!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Woman At The Gate
"Where is your little boy to-day?"
I asked her at the gate.
"I used to see him at his play,
And often I would wait:
He was so beautiful, so bright,
I watched him with delight.
"He had a tiny motor-car
And it was painted red;
He wound it up; it ran so far,
So merrily it sped.
I think he told me that it was
A gift from Santa Claus."
The woman said: "It ran so far
He followed it with joy.
Then came a real motor-car,--
He sought to save his toy . . .
My little boy is far away
Where angel children play.
"His father perished in the War;
Now I am all alone,
And death is all I'm longing for . . ."
So said with face of stone
That woman. "Curse their crazy cars
And cruel wars!"
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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