![Cicero](http://www.citatepedia.com/authors/f/cicero.jpg)
If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.
classic quote by Cicero
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Open Book's Monologue Part 5: Welcome To The Library!
Welcome to the library! come one come all
Welcome to the library! come with your brethren on this wall
Welcome to the library! come all you books tattered or new
Welcome to the library! come tired and overdue
Yes welcome to the library the place where you're most mundane
Yes welcome to the library the place where you're to endure most pain
Yes welcome to the library where you'll sit unwanted
Yes welcome to the library where you'll sit haunted
Yes welcome to the library where everyone's just like you
Yes welcome to the library where we're all books too!
Yes welcome to the library where you can take comfort
Yes welcome to the library where In the fact you're no longer unique
Yes welcome to the library You're just pen marks ink
Departing the library? I think not, even if you get out we'll bring you back
Departing the library? Here you rot, but we'll dust you to ease your passing
Departing the library? Don't make me laugh, here you're black and white
Departing the library? Nobody argues on your behalf, look more amassing
Welcome to the library! A place of keeping and safety
Welcome to the library! Take your place you'll like it, just wait and see
Welcome to the library! New books don't mind the old they're disillusioned
Welcome to the library! You've sold your soul... but it's too late for you
so WELCOME
poem by David Knox
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Now I Need You
You parting words still echo clear on the day you left me
If you need me Ill be there, you said youd always help me
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
L cant seem to satisfy anyone around me
You hold my hand and see me through
All the things that bound me
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Im calling you now (oh now I need you)
Calling you now (oh how I need you)
Please come to me now
I need you
I need you (oh how l need you)
I need you (oh how I need you)
I need you (oh how I need you)
I need you (oh how I need you)
Oh how I need you, oh how I need you
Having learned to live with you
Its hard to live without you
You always said if I were down,
To cheer me you would be around
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Im calling you now
(oh how I need you)
Calling you now
(oh how I need you)
Please come to me now
(oh how I need you)
Please come to me now
(oh how I need you) I need you now
(oh how I need you)
song performed by Donna Summer
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![George Meredith](http://www.citatepedia.com/authors/f/george_meredith.jpg)
Margaret's Bridal Eve
I
The old grey mother she thrummed on her knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
And which of the handsome young men shall it be?
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
My daughter, come hither, come hither to me:
There is a rose that's ready;
Come, point me your finger on him that you see:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O mother, my mother, it never can be:
There is a rose that's ready;
For I shall bring shame on the man marries me:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Now let your tongue be deep as the sea:
There is a rose that's ready;
And the man'll jump for you, right briskly will he:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
Tall Margaret wept bitterly:
There is a rose that's ready;
And as her parent bade did she:
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
O the handsome young man dropped down on his knee:
There is a rose that's ready;
Pale Margaret gave him her hand, woe's me!
There's a rose that's ready for clipping.
II
O mother, my mother, this thing I must say:
There is a rose in the garden;
Ere he lies on the breast where that other lay:
And the bird sings over the roses.
Now, folly, my daughter, for men are men:
There is a rose in the garden;
You marry them blindfold, I tell you again:
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when he kisses me!
There is a rose in the garden;
My child, 'tis which shall sweetest be!
And the bird sings over the roses.
O mother, but when I awake in the morn!
[...] Read more
poem by George Meredith
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Love In The Library
Love in the library
By: jimmy buffett, mac mcanally
1994
On the corner of government and bay avenue
The old doomsday fanatic wore a crown of kudzu
Sirens were wailing in the gulf coastal heat
And it seemed like the whole world was in forced retreat
Paid no attention, revolved through the door
Past the newspaper racks on the worn marble floor
Near civil war history my heart skipped a beat
She was standing in fiction stretched high on bare feet
Chorus:
Love in the library
Quiet and cool
Love in the library
There are no rules
Surrounded by stories
Surreal and sublime
I fell in love in the library
Once upon a time
I was the pirate, she was the queen
Sir francis and elizabeth, the best theres ever been
Then she strolled past my table and stopped at the stairs
Then sent me a smile as she reached for flaubert
Chorus:
Love in the library
Quiet and cool
Love in the library
There are no rules
Surrounded by stories
Surreal and sublime
I fell in love in the library
Once upon a time
She gathered her books, walked while she read
Words never spoken, but so much was said
You can read all you want into this rendezvous
But its safer than most things that lovers can do
Well stories have endings, fantasies fade
And the guard by the door starts drawing the shade
So write your own ending and hope it comes true
For the lovers and strangers on bay avenue
Chorus:
Love in the library
Quiet and cool
Love in the library
There are no rules
Surrounded by stories
Surreal and sublime
I fell in love in the library
Once upon a time
[...] Read more
song performed by Jimmy Buffett
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Need Ya
I used to be a very carefree man,
A loving man of the world.
Yeah, I would still be except for the time
When I met ya, little girl.
Say, I've tried and I've tried but I just can't.
You sure got a hold on me.
Ah, your good, good lovin' is makin' me faint,
Mama, please don't set me free.
Because I need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya)
Oh, need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya)
You got that kinda air that drives me insane
And sometime ya sure got me new.
Ah, sometimes I feel like knockin' you down,
But I would never pull that scene.
Though I get tired, I know that you know
That I'd never do you wrong.
'Cause when it's late and I feel down, turn the lights on low
And I will hold things in my soul.
'Cause I need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya)
I'm gonna need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya)
Yeah ... ooh yeah.
Ah, need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya)
You know I need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya)
Yeah, oh, oh, need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya)
Oh yeah, need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
Oh, ... (Need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya )
Oh, ... (Need ya, need ya, need ya , need ya)
song performed by Bob Seger
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I Need Your Loving
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
Moonlit sky casts shadows down
Romance in the air is strong
Somethings telling me
I need your love
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
And thats a fact
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
Where are you at?
Looking glass reflects the moon
Your loves missing from this room
Baby, now I see
I need your love
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
And thats a fact
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
Where are you at?
I need your loving
I need your love
I need your kissing, baby
And thats a fact
I need your loving
I need your love
I need your kissing, baby
Where are you at?
Oh, I need your love
I need you tonight
Cant do without
Oh, I need your love
Oh, I need your love
So I can hug
And squeeze you tight
Oh, I need your love
Oh, I need your love
I need you tonight
Cant do without
Oh, I need your love
Oh, I need your love
So I can hug
And squeeze you tight
Oh, I need your love
Baby
Come on home to me
[...] Read more
song performed by Human League
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I Need You
Dont need a roller or a limousine
I don't need my picture in a magazine
I don't need approval from a chosen few
Tell you what I do need, I need you
Don't need no fixtures or feelings of home
I'm so unfurnished, I'm on my own
I don't need reminding when the rent is due
Tell you what I do need, I need you
I need you like a fly needs a plane
I need you like a ball needs a game
I need you like a pool needs a cue
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
I don't need no covered kisses for company
I don't want no washed up dishes soft soapin' me
I don't need no Cinderella in high-heeled shoes
I tell you what I do need, I need you
I need you like a fly needs a plane
I need you like a ball needs a game
I need you like a shot needs to shoot
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
Said I want you (I need you)
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
But I want, I want you (I need you)
Yes, I need (I need you)
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
I want you, want you, want you (I need you)
song performed by Paul Carrack
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Our Marriage Is Our Garden
Our marriage is our garden.
I want our garden to be beautiful.
With lush green grass,
With fragrant and colourful flowers.
A place of solace.
A place of peace.
A place of love.
Our garden must be watered.
Not watered too much.
As that would saturate the ground.
Not watered too little.
As that would leave the plants wilted.
And our grass barren.
But regularly.
So the flowers can stand tall
It must be weeded.
It must be maintained.
It must be loved.
We will plant seeds in our garden.
For new life makes any garden more beautiful and diverse.
We can harvest the fruit trees, but our harvest is limited
If we eat all the fruit too quick,
Then we must wait until the next harvest to eat again.
If we don't pick the fruit when it is right, it will spoil.
Our harvest is for our family.
If I eat all the fruit myself, then they will starve.
If we eat too much we will get sick.
If we eat what we are supposed to, then we will be healthy.
If we do not monitor the fruit,
Then someone might eat more than their share.
If we do not stand guard in our garden,
A thief might come into the garden to steal our fruit.
The fruit for our family.
For their garden must be barren and their crops have spoiled.
Our garden will stand the test of all seasons.
As all gardens do.
Another garden will also experience the same seasons.
Just at different times.
All gardens face rain.
All gardens get sun.
It is the rain that nourishes the garden and helps it's life to grow.
But our garden must be maintained regularly.
Only artificial things require no maintenance.
The artificial has no life.
It is fake, it is plastic.
Our garden needs to be real.
So life may grow and continue to grow.
So one day our children can enjoy a garden of their own.
For them and their children.
May their garden be overflowing with life and love.
[...] Read more
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Berenice by edgar allan poe
MISERY is manifold. The wretchedness of earth is multiform. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow, its hues are as various as the hues of that arch, -as distinct too, yet as intimately blended. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow! How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness? -from the covenant of peace a simile of sorrow? But as, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of joy is sorrow born. Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of to-day, or the agonies which are have their origin in the ecstasies which might have been.
My baptismal name is Egaeus; that of my family I will not mention. Yet there are no towers in the land more time-honored than my gloomy, gray, hereditary halls. Our line has been called a race of visionaries; and in many striking particulars -in the character of the family mansion -in the frescos of the chief saloon -in the tapestries of the dormitories -in the chiselling of some buttresses in the armory -but more especially in the gallery of antique paintings -in the fashion of the library chamber -and, lastly, in the very peculiar nature of the library's contents, there is more than sufficient evidence to warrant the belief.
The recollections of my earliest years are connected with that chamber, and with its volumes -of which latter I will say no more. Here died my mother. Herein was I born. But it is mere idleness to say that I had not lived before -that the soul has no previous existence. You deny it? -let us not argue the matter. Convinced myself, I seek not to convince. There is, however, a remembrance of aerial forms -of spiritual and meaning eyes -of sounds, musical yet sad -a remembrance which will not be excluded; a memory like a shadow, vague, variable, indefinite, unsteady; and like a shadow, too, in the impossibility of my getting rid of it while the sunlight of my reason shall exist.
In that chamber was I born. Thus awaking from the long night of what seemed, but was not, nonentity, at once into the very regions of fairy-land -into a palace of imagination -into the wild dominions of monastic thought and erudition -it is not singular that I gazed around me with a startled and ardent eye -that I loitered away my boyhood in books, and dissipated my youth in reverie; but it is singular that as years rolled away, and the noon of manhood found me still in the mansion of my fathers -it is wonderful what stagnation there fell upon the springs of my life -wonderful how total an inversion took place in the character of my commonest thought. The realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became, in turn, -not the material of my every-day existence-but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself.
Berenice and I were cousins, and we grew up together in my paternal halls. Yet differently we grew -I ill of health, and buried in gloom -she agile, graceful, and overflowing with energy; hers the ramble on the hill-side -mine the studies of the cloister -I living within my own heart, and addicted body and soul to the most intense and painful meditation -she roaming carelessly through life with no thought of the shadows in her path, or the silent flight of the raven-winged hours. Berenice! -I call upon her name -Berenice! -and from the gray ruins of memory a thousand tumultuous recollections are startled at the sound! Ah! vividly is her image before me now, as in the early days of her light-heartedness and joy! Oh! gorgeous yet fantastic beauty! Oh! sylph amid the shrubberies of Arnheim! -Oh! Naiad among its fountains! -and then -then all is mystery and terror, and a tale which should not be told. Disease -a fatal disease -fell like the simoom upon her frame, and, even while I gazed upon her, the spirit of change swept, over her, pervading her mind, her habits, and her character, and, in a manner the most subtle and terrible, disturbing even the identity of her person! Alas! the destroyer came and went, and the victim -where was she, I knew her not -or knew her no longer as Berenice.
Among the numerous train of maladies superinduced by that fatal and primary one which effected a revolution of so horrible a kind in the moral and physical being of my cousin, may be mentioned as the most distressing and obstinate in its nature, a species of epilepsy not unfrequently terminating in trance itself -trance very nearly resembling positive dissolution, and from which her manner of recovery was in most instances, startlingly abrupt. In the mean time my own disease -for I have been told that I should call it by no other appelation -my own disease, then, grew rapidly upon me, and assumed finally a monomaniac character of a novel and extraordinary form -hourly and momently gaining vigor -and at length obtaining over me the most incomprehensible ascendancy. This monomania, if I must so term it, consisted in a morbid irritability of those properties of the mind in metaphysical science termed the attentive. It is more than probable that I am not understood; but I fear, indeed, that it is in no manner possible to convey to the mind of the merely general reader, an adequate idea of that nervous intensity of interest with which, in my case, the powers of meditation (not to speak technically) busied and buried themselves, in the contemplation of even the most ordinary objects of the universe.
To muse for long unwearied hours with my attention riveted to some frivolous device on the margin, or in the topography of a book; to become absorbed for the better part of a summer's day, in a quaint shadow falling aslant upon the tapestry, or upon the door; to lose myself for an entire night in watching the steady flame of a lamp, or the embers of a fire; to dream away whole days over the perfume of a flower; to repeat monotonously some common word, until the sound, by dint of frequent repetition, ceased to convey any idea whatever to the mind; to lose all sense of motion or physical existence, by means of absolute bodily quiescence long and obstinately persevered in; -such were a few of the most common and least pernicious vagaries induced by a condition of the mental faculties, not, indeed, altogether unparalleled, but certainly bidding defiance to anything like analysis or explanation.
Yet let me not be misapprehended. -The undue, earnest, and morbid attention thus excited by objects in their own nature frivolous, must not be confounded in character with that ruminating propensity common to all mankind, and more especially indulged in by persons of ardent imagination. It was not even, as might be at first supposed, an extreme condition or exaggeration of such propensity, but primarily and essentially distinct and different. In the one instance, the dreamer, or enthusiast, being interested by an object usually not frivolous, imperceptibly loses sight of this object in a wilderness of deductions and suggestions issuing therefrom, until, at the conclusion of a day dream often replete with luxury, he finds the incitamentum or first cause of his musings entirely vanished and forgotten. In my case the primary object was invariably frivolous, although assuming, through the medium of my distempered vision, a refracted and unreal importance. Few deductions, if any, were made; and those few pertinaciously returning in upon the original object as a centre. The meditations were never pleasurable; and, at the termination of the reverie, the first cause, so far from being out of sight, had attained that supernaturally exaggerated interest which was the prevailing feature of the disease. In a word, the powers of mind more particularly exercised were, with me, as I have said before, the attentive, and are, with the day-dreamer, the speculative.
My books, at this epoch, if they did not actually serve to irritate the disorder, partook, it will be perceived, largely, in their imaginative and inconsequential nature, of the characteristic qualities of the disorder itself. I well remember, among others, the treatise of the noble Italian Coelius Secundus Curio 'de Amplitudine Beati Regni dei'; St. Austin's great work, the 'City of God'; and Tertullian 'de Carne Christi, ' in which the paradoxical sentence 'Mortuus est Dei filius; credible est quia ineptum est: et sepultus resurrexit; certum est quia impossibile est' occupied my undivided time, for many weeks of laborious and fruitless investigation.
Thus it will appear that, shaken from its balance only by trivial things, my reason bore resemblance to that ocean-crag spoken of by Ptolemy Hephestion, which steadily resisting the attacks of human violence, and the fiercer fury of the waters and the winds, trembled only to the touch of the flower called Asphodel. And although, to a careless thinker, it might appear a matter beyond doubt, that the alteration produced by her unhappy malady, in the moral condition of Berenice, would afford me many objects for the exercise of that intense and abnormal meditation whose nature I have been at some trouble in explaining, yet such was not in any degree the case. In the lucid intervals of my infirmity, her calamity, indeed, gave me pain, and, taking deeply to heart that total wreck of her fair and gentle life, I did not fall to ponder frequently and bitterly upon the wonder-working means by which so strange a revolution had been so suddenly brought to pass. But these reflections partook not of the idiosyncrasy of my disease, and were such as would have occurred, under similar circumstances, to the ordinary mass of mankind. True to its own character, my disorder revelled in the less important but more startling changes wrought in the physical frame of Berenice -in the singular and most appalling distortion of her personal identity.
During the brightest days of her unparalleled beauty, most surely I had never loved her. In the strange anomaly of my existence, feelings with me, had never been of the heart, and my passions always were of the mind. Through the gray of the early morning -among the trellised shadows of the forest at noonday -and in the silence of my library at night, she had flitted by my eyes, and I had seen her -not as the living and breathing Berenice, but as the Berenice of a dream -not as a being of the earth, earthy, but as the abstraction of such a being-not as a thing to admire, but to analyze -not as an object of love, but as the theme of the most abstruse although desultory speculation. And now -now I shuddered in her presence, and grew pale at her approach; yet bitterly lamenting her fallen and desolate condition, I called to mind that she had loved me long, and, in an evil moment, I spoke to her of marriage.
And at length the period of our nuptials was approaching, when, upon an afternoon in the winter of the year, -one of those unseasonably warm, calm, and misty days which are the nurse of the beautiful Halcyon*, -I sat, (and sat, as I thought, alone,) in the inner apartment of the library. But uplifting my eyes I saw that Berenice stood before me.
*For as Jove, during the winter season, gives twice seven days of warmth, men have called this clement and temperate time the nurse of the beautiful Halcyon -Simonides.
Was it my own excited imagination -or the misty influence of the atmosphere -or the uncertain twilight of the chamber -or the gray draperies which fell around her figure -that caused in it so vacillating and indistinct an outline? I could not tell. She spoke no word, I -not for worlds could I have uttered a syllable. An icy chill ran through my frame; a sense of insufferable anxiety oppressed me; a consuming curiosity pervaded my soul; and sinking back upon the chair, I remained for some time breathless and motionless, with my eyes riveted upon her person. Alas! its emaciation was excessive, and not one vestige of the former being, lurked in any single line of the contour. My burning glances at length fell upon the face.
The forehead was high, and very pale, and singularly placid; and the once jetty hair fell partially over it, and overshadowed the hollow temples with innumerable ringlets now of a vivid yellow, and Jarring discordantly, in their fantastic character, with the reigning melancholy of the countenance. The eyes were lifeless, and lustreless, and seemingly pupil-less, and I shrank involuntarily from their glassy stare to the contemplation of the thin and shrunken lips. They parted; and in a smile of peculiar meaning, the teeth of the changed Berenice disclosed themselves slowly to my view. Would to God that I had never beheld them, or that, having done so, I had died!
The shutting of a door disturbed me, and, looking up, I found that my cousin had departed from the chamber. But from the disordered chamber of my brain, had not, alas! departed, and would not be driven away, the white and ghastly spectrum of the teeth. Not a speck on their surface -not a shade on their enamel -not an indenture in their edges -but what that period of her smile had sufficed to brand in upon my memory. I saw them now even more unequivocally than I beheld them then. The teeth! -the teeth! -they were here, and there, and everywhere, and visibly and palpably before me; long, narrow, and excessively white, with the pale lips writhing about them, as in the very moment of their first terrible development. Then came the full fury of my monomania, and I struggled in vain against its strange and irresistible influence. In the multiplied objects of the external world I had no thoughts but for the teeth. For these I longed with a phrenzied desire. All other matters and all different interests became absorbed in their single contemplation. They -they alone were present to the mental eye, and they, in their sole individuality, became the essence of my mental life. I held them in every light. I turned them in every attitude. I surveyed their characteristics. I dwelt upon their peculiarities. I pondered upon their conformation. I mused upon the alteration in their nature. I shuddered as I assigned to them in imagination a sensitive and sentient power, and even when unassisted by the lips, a capability of moral expression. Of Mad'selle Salle it has been well said, 'que tous ses pas etaient des sentiments, ' and of Berenice I more seriously believed que toutes ses dents etaient des idees. Des idees! -ah here was the idiotic thought that destroyed me! Des idees! -ah therefore it was that I coveted them so madly! I felt that their possession could alone ever restore me to peace, in giving me back to reason.
And the evening closed in upon me thus-and then the darkness came, and tarried, and went -and the day again dawned -and the mists of a second night were now gathering around -and still I sat motionless in that solitary room; and still I sat buried in meditation, and still the phantasma of the teeth maintained its terrible ascendancy as, with the most vivid hideous distinctness, it floated about amid the changing lights and shadows of the chamber. At length there broke in upon my dreams a cry as of horror and dismay; and thereunto, after a pause, succeeded the sound of troubled voices, intermingled with many low moanings of sorrow, or of pain. I arose from my seat and, throwing open one of the doors of the library, saw standing out in the antechamber a servant maiden, all in tears, who told me that Berenice was -no more. She had been seized with epilepsy in the early morning, and now, at the closing in of the night, the grave was ready for its tenant, and all the preparations for the burial were completed.
I found myself sitting in the library, and again sitting there alone. It seemed that I had newly awakened from a confused and exciting dream. I knew that it was now midnight, and I was well aware that since the setting of the sun Berenice had been interred. But of that dreary period which intervened I had no positive -at least no definite comprehension. Yet its memory was replete with horror -horror more horrible from being vague, and terror more terrible from ambiguity. It was a fearful page in the record my existence, written all over with dim, and hideous, and unintelligible recollections. I strived to decypher them, but in vain; while ever and anon, like the spirit of a departed sound, the shrill and piercing shriek of a female voice seemed to be ringing in my ears. I had done a deed -what was it? I asked myself the question aloud, and the whispering echoes of the chamber answered me, 'what was it? '
On the table beside me burned a lamp, and near it lay a little box. It was of no remarkable character, and I had seen it frequently before, for it was the property of the family physician; but how came it there, upon my table, and why did I shudder in regarding it? These things were in no manner to be accounted for, and my eyes at length dropped to the open pages of a book, and to a sentence underscored therein. The words were the singular but simple ones of the poet Ebn Zaiat, 'Dicebant mihi sodales si sepulchrum amicae visitarem, curas meas aliquantulum fore levatas.' Why then, as I perused them, did the hairs of my head erect themselves on end, and the blood of my body become congealed within my veins?
There came a light tap at the library door, and pale as the tenant of a tomb, a menial entered upon tiptoe. His looks were wild with terror, and he spoke to me in a voice tremulous, husky, and very low. What said he? -some broken sentences I heard. He told of a wild cry disturbing the silence of the night -of the gathering together of the household-of a search in the direction of the sound; -and then his tones grew thrillingly distinct as he whispered me of a violated grave -of a disfigured body enshrouded, yet still breathing, still palpitating, still alive!
He pointed to garments; -they were muddy and clotted with gore. I spoke not, and he took me gently by the hand; -it was indented with the impress of human nails. He directed my attention to some object against the wall; -I looked at it for some minutes; -it was a spade. With a shriek I bounded to the table, and grasped the box that lay upon it. But I could not force it open; and in my tremor it slipped from my hands, and fell heavily, and burst into pieces; and from it, with a rattling sound, there rolled out some instruments of dental surgery, intermingled with thirty-two small, white and ivory-looking substances that were scattered to and fro about the floor.
poem by Erie Morganmaples
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No More Trouble (feat. Erykah Badu)
[Bob Marley]
(We don't need) No, we don't need (no more trouble) no more trouble!
(We don't need no more trouble)
Wo! Oh-oh-oh!
(We don't need) We don't need no (no more) trouble!
We don't need no trouble!
(We don't need no more trouble)
Make love and not war! 'Cause we don't need no trouble.
What we need is love (love)
To guide and protect us on. (on)
If you hope good down from above, (love)
Help the weak if you are strong now. (love)
We don't need no trouble;
What we need is love. Oh, no!
We don't need - we don't need - no more trouble!
Lord knows, we don't need no trouble!
(We don't need) We don't need trouble (no more trouble) -
no more trouble - no more trouble!
Seek happiness! (...) Oh, ...!
Come on, you all and speak of love. (...) Oh, yeah!
We don't need no trouble;
What we need is love, now. (What we need is love!)
(We don't need) Oh, we don't need no more trouble!
We don't need, no - we don't need no trouble!
We don't (need) - no, brothers and sisters ... (no more trouble!)
We don't need no trouble; we don't need no trouble!
We don't need no trouble!
What we need is love!
We don't need - we don't need no more - we don't need -
no more trouble - we don't need no more trouble!
Trouble we don't need (we don't need),
(We don't need) Lord, knows! -
we don't need no more war (no more trouble).
No more trouble - we don't need no more - more trouble! /fadeout/
song performed by Bob Marley
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Need Your Love
Words and music by rick nielsen and tom petersson
Need your love, need your love, need your love, need your love.
Fell apart, broke my heart, need your love, need your love.
If I could go around the world, I wouldnt find another girl, need your love.
Need your love, need your love, need your love, need your love.
You make me lonely, why should you care?
I gave you evrything, thats hardly fair.
I give you love, its what you need.
I give you evrything, evrything in me.
If I surprise you, thats not the reason.
Need your love, need your love, need your love, need your love.
Fell apart, broke my heart, need your love, need your love.
If I could go around the world, I wouldnt find another girl, need your love.
Need your love, need your love, need your love, need your love.
You make me lonely, why should you care?
I gave you evrything, thats hardly fair.
I give you love, its what you need.
I give you evrything, evrything in me.
If I surprise you, thats not the reason.
Need your love, need your love, need your love, need your love.
Fell apart, broke my heart, need your love, need your love.
If I could go around the world, I wouldnt find another girl, need your love.
Need your love, need your love, need your love, need your love.
Need your love.
song performed by Cheap Trick
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I Need To Know
Well the talk on the street
Says you might go solo
A good friend of mine saw you leavin by the back door
I need to know(I need to know)
I need to know(I need to know)
If you think youre gonna leave
Then you better say so
I need to know(I need to know)
I need to know(I need to know)
Because I dont know how long
I can hold on
And if your makin me wait
If youre leadin me on
I need to know(I need to know)
I need to know(I need to know)
Who woulda thought
That youd fall for his line
All of a sudden its
Me on the outside
I need to know(I need to know)
I need to know(I need to know)
If you think youre gonna leave
Then you better say so
I need to know(I need to know)
I need to know(I need to know)
Because I dont know how long
I can hold on
And if your makin me wait
If youre leadin me on
I ne ed to know(I need to know)
I need to know(I need to know)
I need to know(I need to know)
I need to know(I need to know)
If you think youre gonna leave
Then you better say so
I need to know(I need to know)
I need to know( I need to know)
Because I dont know how long
I can hold on
And if your makin me wait
If youre leadin me on
I need to know(I need to know)
I need to know(I need to know)
song performed by Tom Petty
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A Roxbury Garden
I
Hoops
Blue and pink sashes,
Criss-cross shoes,
Minna and Stella run out into the garden
To play at hoop.
Up and down the garden-paths they race,
In the yellow sunshine,
Each with a big round hoop
White as a stripped willow-wand.
Round and round turn the hoops,
Their diamond whiteness cleaving the yellow sunshine.
The gravel crunches and squeaks beneath them,
And a large pebble springs them into the air
To go whirling for a foot or two
Before they touch the earth again
In a series of little jumps.
Spring, Hoops!
Spit out a shower of blue and white brightness.
The little criss-cross shoes twinkle behind you,
The pink and blue sashes flutter like flags,
The hoop-sticks are ready to beat you.
Turn, turn, Hoops! In the yellow sunshine.
Turn your stripped willow whiteness
Along the smooth paths.
Stella sings:
'Round and round, rolls my hoop,
Scarcely touching the ground,
With a swoop,
And a bound,
Round and round.
With a bumpety, crunching, scattering sound,
Down the garden it flies;
In our eyes
The sun lies.
See it spin
Out and in;
Through the paths it goes whirling,
About the beds curling.
Sway now to the loop,
Faster, faster, my hoop.
Round you come,
Up you come,
Quick and straight as before.
[...] Read more
poem by Amy Lowell
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Solomon
As thro' the Psalms from theme to theme I chang'd,
Methinks like Eve in Paradice I rang'd;
And ev'ry grace of song I seem'd to see,
As the gay pride of ev'ry season, she.
She gently treading all the walks around,
Admir'd the springing beauties of the ground,
The lilly glist'ring with the morning dew,
The rose in red, the violet in blew,
The pink in pale, the bells in purple rows,
And tulips colour'd in a thousand shows:
Then here and there perhaps she pull'd a flow'r
To strew with moss, and paint her leafy bow'r;
And here and there, like her I went along,
Chose a bright strain, and bid it deck my song.
But now the sacred Singer leaves mine eye,
Crown'd as he was, I think he mounts on high;
Ere this Devotion bore his heav'nly psalms,
And now himself bears up his harp and palms.
Go, saint triumphant, leave the changing sight,
So fitted out, you suit the realms of light;
But let thy glorious robe at parting go,
Those realms have robes of more effulgent show;
It flies, it falls, the flutt'ring silk I see,
Thy son has caught it and he sings like thee,
With such election of a theme divine,
And such sweet grace, as conquers all but thine.
Hence, ev'ry writer o'er the fabled streams,
Where frolick fancies sport with idle dreams,
Or round the sight enchanted clouds dispose,
Whence wanton cupids shoot with gilded bows;
A nobler writer, strains more brightly wrought,
Themes more exulted, fill my wond'ring thought:
The parted skies are track'd with flames above,
As love descends to meet ascending love;
The seasons flourish where the spouses meet,
And earth in gardens spreads beneath their feet.
This fresh-bloom prospect in the bosom throngs,
When Solomon begins his song of songs,
Bids the rap'd soul to Lebanon repair,
And lays the scenes of all his action there,
Where as he wrote, and from the bow'r survey'd
The scenting groves, or answ'ring knots he made,
His sacred art the sights of nature brings,
Beyond their use, to figure heav'nly things.
Great son of God! whose gospel pleas'd to throw
Round thy rich glory, veils of earthly show,
Who made the vineyard oft thy church design,
[...] Read more
poem by Thomas Parnell
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Ooh Baby
Oohbaby
Oohbaby
Oohoohooh
Since the day I saw you, baby, I knew you were for me
Always all by myself, I sought your company
All the fellas told me that you played me for a fool
Said I wouldnt hang out, id go home right after school
What did I do to you
To make you feel this way
You said youd be my baby
Never go away, go away
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohoohooh) how could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
Spent all my time, baby, just working on my form
Trying to improve myself so I could give you more
You told me I was turning out the way that I should be
How could I know that you would turn your back on me
What did I do to you
To make you feel this way
You said youd be my baby
Never go away, go away
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohoohooh) how could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohbaby) how could you leave when I need you, baby
(oohoohooh) how could you leave when I need you, baby
How could you leave when I need you, baby
Ooh, baby, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
How could you leave
Ooh, baby, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
How could you leave
How could you leave
How could you leave
How could you leave
Ooh, baby, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, baby, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
How could you leave
How could you leave
[...] Read more
song performed by New Edition
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No Good/start The Dance (Bad For You Mix)
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
Come on, who can, who can, can hear the bass drum?
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
You're no good for me,
I don't need nobody.
Don't need no-one,
That's no good for me.
[...] Read more
song performed by Prodigy
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Send Me Back To Loving School
Send me back to loving school.
Oh my!
Whatever it takes,
To get me to care.
Send me back to loving school,
This is my need.
Some lessons taught there,
Need a repeating for me.
I need it,
To share and to give.
I need it,
In my life to live.
I need it,
With me everyday.
I need it,
To chase hate away.
Oh,
Send me back to loving school...
Yes please.
Some lessons taught I missed.
Now I'm ready to fix that quick.
Oh my...
I need it,
For complaints to stop.
I need it,
To block out that rot!
I need it,
To dismiss those fears...
Don't need those whispers in my ears.
I know what I need,
So...
Send me back to loving school.
Whatever it takes,
To get me to care.
Send me back to loving school,
I'm begging, please...
I need to stop that nonsense right now and prepare.
I need it,
To share and to give.
I need it,
In my life to live.
I need it,
With me everyday.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In The Garden
The streets are always wet with rain
After a summer shower when I saw you standin
In the garden in the garden wet with rain
You wiped the teardrops from your eye in sorrow
As we watched the petals fall down to the ground
And as I sat beside you I felt the
Great sadness that day in the garden
And then one day you came back home
You were a creature all in rapture
You had the key to your soul
And you did open that day you came back to the garden
The olden summer breeze was blowin on your face
The light of God was shinin on your countenance divine
And you were a violet colour as you
Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden
The summer breeze was blowin on your face
Within your violet you treasure your summery words
And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine
Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden
And you went into a trance
Your childlike vision became so fine
And we heard the bells inside the church
We loved so much
And felt the presence of the youth of
Eternal summers in the garden
And as it touched your cheeks so lightly
Born again you were and blushed and we touched each other lightly
And we felt the presence of the christ
And I turned to you and I said
No guru, no method, no teacher
Just you and I and nature
And the father in the garden
No guru, no method, no teacher
Just you and I and nature
And the father and the
Son and the holy ghost
In the garden wet with rain
No guru, no method, no teacher
Just you and I and nature and the holy ghost
In the garden, in the garden, wet with rain
No guru, no method, no teacher
Just you and I and nature
And the father in the garden
song performed by Van Morrison
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All I Need Is........
All i need is the food that i eat and to love you,
All i need is the room that i sleep in and to love you,
All i need is the air that i breath and to love you,
All i need is the water that i bath and to love you,
All i need is the fish that i eat and to love you,
All i need is the letter that i am writing and to love you,
All i need is the meat that i eat and to love you,
All i need is the tea that i drink and to love you,
All i need is the river that i swim in and to love you,
All i need is the seed that i plant and to love you,
All i need is the bed that i use and to love you,
All i need is the water that flows beside me and to love,
All i need is the bed of roses and to love you,
All i need is the garden of love and to love you,
All i need is your valley of love and to love,
All i need is the kiss of your lips and to love you,
All i need is the peace around you and to love you,
All i need is the care that is around you and to love you,
All i need is the muse of your love and to love you,
All i need is the rainbow up high in the sky and to love you,
All i need is the deep blue sea and to love you,
All i need is a well laid bed and to love you,
All i need is a lovely boat and to love you,
All i need is the romance of your body and to love you,
All i need is the nakedness of your body and to love,
All i need is the sweet blues of your love and to love you,
All i need is the sweet songs from the birds and to love you,
For life is all about the true love around us.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Library In You
The words that you speak.The wisdom you have inspired me. The stories you tell and the author in you comes out. Library In You
The parallel lines in you words the experience in the language the art of storytelling.Reception from people how these stories affect many lives.The library In You. Your literature speaks volumes to me.You are the simile and I; m the metaphore.The tone of beautiful words the elegance of rhythem in which you speak from. Listening brings many to high altitudes.The library In You
Grammar in how you use it.The ingredent to mothers cake the master in your own league.An idle mirror on how I can tell my story. Your flowetry with a pen and paper tells all issues of those in the ghetto. You are the symphony of art.
The mathematics of an artist and his brush.The fuel to the fire I ignite with inspiration. The mother speaks as the child listen.The library in You
To conquer all paths of storytelling to imply and relate with a pen and recongize these thoughts.
The pen writes the story but the mind conquers the thought.Words explains the love of literature.I accept the library in me
poem by Lucinda Bryson
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