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If you fail to plan, you plan to fail.

African proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Everything Is Going To Be Like My Plan

Duty must be fulfilled
But everything is going to be like my plan
People could lie to me
But everything is going to be like my plan
Pray may be often
But everything is going to be like my plan
Time flies uncontrolled
But everything is going to be like my plan
Destiny may not be cooperated
But everything is going to be like my plan
Other plan may ruin mine
But everything is going to be like my plan
Body is reaching the limit
But everything is going to be like my plan
The will should be strengthened
But everything is going to be like my plan
The anxiety may be doubled
But everything is going to be like my plan
Critics never disappear
But everything is going to be like my plan
Life is unfair
But everything is going to be like my plan
The way seems lost
But everything is going to be like my plan
Regret is gnawing my sense
But everything is going to be like my plan
The goal still far away
But everything is going to be like my plan
The future end may unseen
But everything is going to be like my plan
Source may not be enough
But everything is going to be like my plan
Things always change
But everything is going to be like my plan
Problem keeps occurring
But everything is going to be like my plan
World would laugh
But everything is going to be like my plan
Failure keeps happening
But everything is going to be like my plan
Memories may not help
But everything is going to be like my plan
Luck may test me
But everything is going to be like my plan
Love may not support me
But everything is going to be like my plan
Weather wants to rebel
But everything is going to be like my plan
The form may be different
But everything is going to be like my plan

[...] Read more

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The God Song

Catch the beat out-o-on the street (oh no-no!)
Another visionary slick solution
Strap on a gun, start a revolution
Another brilliant master plan
In from the street, mouth sat in a seat (no-no!)
He point the finger at the whole world out there
Beat the drum - for mr accusation
The hypocritical superman
Sing hallelujah o-e-o
Sing hallelujah yea-yea-yea-yea
The man got a plan, got a plan, got a plan yea
He call love
The man got a plan, got a plan, got a plan yea
He call l-o-v-e
Catch the beat out-o-on the street (oh no-no!)
I hear political resolutions
Cast the vote - launch another scape goat
Into the bosom of the promised land
Stand and fight, kill for what is right (oh no-no!)
Justify another execution
Try me on build another big one
And we can celebrate the final plan
Sing hallelujah o-e-o
Sing hallelujah yea-yea-yea-yea
The man got a plan, got a plan, got a plan yea
He call love
The man got a plan, got a plan, got a plan yea
He call l-o-v-e
Sing hallelujah o-e-o
Sing hallelujah yea-yea-yea-yea
The man got a plan, got a plan, got a plan yea
He call love
The man got a plan, got a plan yea
He call l-o-v-e

song performed by Underworld
Added by Lucian Velea
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Thrash

Catch the beat out-o-on the street (Oh no-no!)
Another visionary slick solution
Strap on a gun, start a revolution
Another brilliant master plan
In from the street, mouth sat in a seat (No-no!)
He point the finger at the whole world out there
Beat the drum - for Mr Accusation
The hypocritical superman
Sing hallelujah o-e-o
Sing hallelujah yea-yea-yea-yea
The man got a plan, got a plan, got a plan yea
He call love
The man got a plan, got a plan, got a plan yea
He call L-O-V-E
Catch the beat out-o-on the street (Oh no-no!)
I hear political resolutions
Cast the vote - launch another scape goat
Into the bosom of the promised land
Stand and fight, kill for what is right (Oh no-no!)
Justify another execution
Try me on build another big one
And we can celebrate the final plan
Sing hallelujah o-e-o
Sing hallelujah yea-yea-yea-yea
The man got a plan, got a plan, got a plan yea
He call love
The man got a plan, got a plan, got a plan yea
He call L-O-V-E
Sing hallelujah o-e-o
Sing hallelujah yea-yea-yea-yea
The man got a plan, got a plan, got a plan yea
He call love
The man got a plan, got a plan yea
He call L-O-V-E

song performed by Underworld
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
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Why Are You Waiting

What can I do Im at the door
Ive tried turning back theres no point in that now
What should I say, what should I do
Should I fix my hair oh why am I scared now
Facing the world is so hard do you know what I mean
People are so often hard and far too ready to say...hey...ohhh
Why are you waiting?
Why are you waiting?
Why are you waiting?
What if I fail (you wont fail)
Why are you waiting?
What if I fail (you wont fail, you wont fail)
Look at me stand outside the door
Like a frightened child with a nervous smile see
What should I do, what should I say
Should I speak at all
I am much too small now
Facing the world is so hard do you know what I mean
People are so often hard and far too ready to say...hey...ohhh
Why are you waiting?
Why are you waiting?
Why are you waiting?
What if I fail (you wont fail)
Why are you waiting?
What if I fail (you wont fail)
Why are you waiting?
What if I fail (you wont fail, you wont fail, you wont fail)

song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Love My Man

verse 1:
See I finally found me a good man
matter of fact he might be my future husband
yeah he really knows how to love me
and he can't get enough of me
oh yeah he's got class and good looks
by the way he's number one in my book
I prayed for a love and he appeared
no girl got a man like this here
chorus:
So I ain't gonna nag and I ain't gonna trip
I ain't gonna do any arguing
cause I love my man
and I plan on keeping him
so I'm not gonna accuse my man of lust
and I'm gonna trust him let me tell you why
cause I love my man
and I plan on keeping him
verse 2:
No the other guys just don't compare
to my man's good love honey i swear
he's got my back in the time of need
it's good to know that he's there for me
let me say all that he knows my heart
and it means it was love
at the very start when i saw him
with my girlfriends
so I knew I was keeping him
chorus:
So I ain't gonna nag and I ain't gonna trip
I ain't gonna do any arguing
cause I love my man
and I plan on keeping him
so I'm not gonna accuse my man of lust
and I'm gonna trust him let me tell you why
cause I love my man
and I plan on keeping him
So I ain't gonna nag and I ain't gonna trip
I ain't gonna do any arguing
cause I love my man
and I plan on keeping him
so I'm not gonna accuse my man of lust
and I'm gonna trust him let me tell you why
cause I love my man
and I plan on keeping him
bridge:
I know that he loves me and his love is pure
so I don't have a reason to be insecure
ooh, I, love my baby, baby
ooh, I, love my baby

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song performed by Nivea
Added by Lucian Velea
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OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)

Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou:
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.

Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,

But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.

Forgive what seem’d my sin in me;
What seem’d my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.

Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.

Forgive these wild and wandering cries,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Carol Of Words

EARTH, round, rolling, compact--suns, moons, animals--all these are
words to be said;
Watery, vegetable, sauroid advances--beings, premonitions, lispings
of the future,
Behold! these are vast words to be said.

Were you thinking that those were the words--those upright lines?
those curves, angles, dots?
No, those are not the words--the substantial words are in the ground
and sea,
They are in the air--they are in you.

Were you thinking that those were the words--those delicious sounds
out of your friends' mouths?
No, the real words are more delicious than they.

Human bodies are words, myriads of words;
In the best poems re-appears the body, man's or woman's, well-shaped,
natural, gay, 10
Every part able, active, receptive, without shame or the need of
shame.

Air, soil, water, fire--these are words;
I myself am a word with them--my qualities interpenetrate with
theirs--my name is nothing to them;
Though it were told in the three thousand languages, what would air,
soil, water, fire, know of my name?

A healthy presence, a friendly or commanding gesture, are words,
sayings, meanings;
The charms that go with the mere looks of some men and women, are
sayings and meanings also.

The workmanship of souls is by the inaudible words of the earth;
The great masters know the earth's words, and use them more than the
audible words.

Amelioration is one of the earth's words;
The earth neither lags nor hastens; 20
It has all attributes, growths, effects, latent in itself from the
jump;
It is not half beautiful only--defects and excrescences show just as
much as perfections show.

The earth does not withhold, it is generous enough;
The truths of the earth continually wait, they are not so conceal'd
either;
They are calm, subtle, untransmissible by print;

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
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Skies The Limit

Written by christine mcvie
If Ive been acting just a little strange
And you have noticed it too
Its cos my life has been rearranged
With the presence of you
The sky is the limit now
We can hit it on the nail
And when we do
Ill think about you
How can we fail
Can you give me one reason why
Youd ever let me down
I wont believe it baby, but Ill try
The truths goin to come around
The sky is the limit now
We can hit it on the nail
And when we do
Ill think about you
How can we fail
The sky is the limit
Oh the sky is the limit
How can we fail
Sooner or later
Ill keep the promise
I made to you
Sooner or later
It will be greater
Then we ever knew
The sky is the limit now
We can hit it on the nail
And when we do
Ill think about you
The sky is the limit now
We can hit it on the nail
And when we do
Ill think about you
How can we fail
The sky is the limit
Oh the sky is the limit
How can we fail
Oh the sky is the limit
How can we fail
The sky is the limit
Oh the sky is the limit
How can we fail
The sky is the limit
Oh the sky is the limit
How can we fail
The sky is the limit
Oh the sky is the limit

[...] Read more

song performed by Fleetwood Mac
Added by Lucian Velea
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He Will Never Leave Me Alone

Flying higher and higher
Trying to tear down my sails
But let me tell you, you will fail.
With everything I have I'm still holding on
I'm not scared, but I just don't know if I'm that strong.

This is my home
Every night
Every day
So just walk the other way
I will not welcome you in with open arms

Flying higher and higher
Trying to tear down my sails
But let me tell you, you will fail.
With everything I have I'm still holding on
I'm not scared, but I just don't know if I'm that strong.

You have lied to me yet again
I tell you right now, I just don't want hear it anymore
So sick of it, and you.
I will no longer be used.
I don't care what you do.

Flying higher and higher
Trying to tear down my sails
But let me tell you, you will fail.
With everything I have I'm still holding on
I'm not scared, but I just don't know if I'm that strong.

Spread your rumors
Tell them with the thickness of all your fairy tales
My girl friend broke up with me because of them.
So what else can you do man.
Humiliation just goes so far.

Flying higher and higher
Trying to tear down my sails
But let me tell you, you will fail.
With everything I have I'm still holding on
I'm not scared, but I just don't know if I'm that strong.

You dead and gone to me.
All you did out of jealousy.
Why because I don't have to lie to her.
Why because I don't have to cheat.
A breach of integrity

Flying higher and higher
Trying to tear down my sails

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Tirocinium; or, a Review of Schools

It is not from his form, in which we trace
Strength join'd with beauty, dignity with grace,
That man, the master of this globe, derives
His right of empire over all that lives.
That form, indeed, the associate of a mind
Vast in its powers, ethereal in its kind,
That form, the labour of Almighty skill,
Framed for the service of a freeborn will,
Asserts precedence, and bespeaks control,
But borrows all its grandeur from the soul.
Hers is the state, the splendour, and the throne,
An intellectual kingdom, all her own.
For her the memory fills her ample page
With truths pour’d down from every distant age;
For her amasses an unbounded store,
The wisdom of great nations, now no more;
Though laden, not encumber’d with her spoil;
Laborious, yet unconscious of her toil;
When copiously supplied, then most enlarged;
Still to be fed, and not to be surcharged.
For her the Fancy, roving unconfined,
The present muse of every pensive mind,
Works magic wonders, adds a brighter hue
To Nature’s scenes than Nature ever knew.
At her command winds rise and waters roar,
Again she lays them slumbering on the shore;
With flower and fruit the wilderness supplies,
Or bids the rocks in ruder pomp arise.
For her the Judgment, umpire in the strife
That Grace and Nature have to wage through life,
Quick-sighted arbiter of good and ill,
Appointed sage preceptor to the Will,
Condemns, approves, and, with a faithful voice,
Guides the decision of a doubtful choice.
Why did the fiat of a God give birth
To yon fair Sun and his attendant Earth?
And, when descending he resigns the skies,
Why takes the gentler Moon her turn to rise,
Whom Ocean feels through all his countless waves,
And owns her power on every shore he laves?
Why do the seasons still enrich the year,
Fruitful and young as in their first career?
Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock’d in the cradle of the western breeze:
Summer in haste the thriving charge receives
Beneath the shade of her expanded leaves,
Till Autumn’s fiercer heats and plenteous dews
Dye them at last in all their glowing hues.—
‘Twere wild profusion all, and bootless waste,
Power misemploy’d, munificence misplaced,

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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Vision of Columbus – Book 2

High o'er the changing scene, as thus he gazed,
The indulgent Power his arm sublimely raised;
When round the realms superior lustre flew,
And call'd new wonders to the hero's view.
He saw, at once, as far as eye could rove,
Like scattering herds, the swarthy people move,
In tribes innumerable; all the waste,
Beneath their steps, a varying shadow cast.
As airy shapes, beneath the moon's pale eye,
When broken clouds sail o'er the curtain'd sky,
Spread thro' the grove and flit along the glade,
And cast their grisly phantoms thro' the shade;
So move the hordes, in thickers half conceal'd,
Or vagrant stalking o'er the open field.
Here ever-restless tribes, despising home,
O'er shadowy streams and trackless deserts roam;
While others there, thro' downs and hamlets stray,
And rising domes a happier state display.
The painted chiefs, in death's grim terrors drest,
Rise fierce to war, and beat the savage breast;
Dark round their steps collecting warriors pour,
And dire revenge begins the hideous roar;
While to the realms around the signal flies,
And tribes on tribes, in dread disorder, rise,
Track the mute foe and scour the distant wood,
Wide as a storm, and dreadful as a flood;
Now deep in groves the silent ambush lay,
Or wing the flight or sweep the prize away,
Unconscious babes and reverend sires devour,
Drink the warm blood and paint their cheeks with gore.
While all their mazy movements fill the view.
Where'er they turn his eager eyes pursue;
He saw the same dire visage thro' the whole,
And mark'd the same fierce savageness of soul:
In doubt he stood, with anxious thoughts oppress'd,
And thus his wavering mind the Power address'd.
Say, from what source, O Voice of wisdom, sprung
The countless tribes of this amazing throng?
Where human frames and brutal souls combine,
No force can tame them and no arts refine.
Can these be fashion'd on the social plan?
Or boast a lineage with the race of man?
In yon fair isle, when first my wandering view
Ranged the glad coast and met the savage crew;
A timorous herd, like harmless roes, they ran,
Hail'd us as Gods from whom their race began,
Supply'd our various wants, relieved our toil,
And oped the unbounded treasures of their isle.
But when, their fears allay'd, in us they trace
The well-known image of a mortal race;

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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The Ballad of the White Horse

DEDICATION

Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night--
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?

Where seven sunken Englands
Lie buried one by one,
Why should one idle spade, I wonder,
Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder
To smoke and choke the sun?

In cloud of clay so cast to heaven
What shape shall man discern?
These lords may light the mystery
Of mastery or victory,
And these ride high in history,
But these shall not return.

Gored on the Norman gonfalon
The Golden Dragon died:
We shall not wake with ballad strings
The good time of the smaller things,
We shall not see the holy kings
Ride down by Severn side.

Stiff, strange, and quaintly coloured
As the broidery of Bayeux
The England of that dawn remains,
And this of Alfred and the Danes
Seems like the tales a whole tribe feigns
Too English to be true.

Of a good king on an island
That ruled once on a time;
And as he walked by an apple tree
There came green devils out of the sea
With sea-plants trailing heavily
And tracks of opal slime.

Yet Alfred is no fairy tale;
His days as our days ran,
He also looked forth for an hour
On peopled plains and skies that lower,
From those few windows in the tower
That is the head of a man.

But who shall look from Alfred's hood

[...] Read more

poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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The Candidate

This poem was written in , on occasion of the contest between the
Earls of Hardwicke and Sandwich for the High-stewardship of the
University of Cambridge, vacant by the death of the Lord Chancellor
Hardwicke. The spirit of party ran high in the University, and no
means were left untried by either candidate to obtain a majority. The
election was fixed for the th of March, when, after much
altercation, the votes appearing equal, a scrutiny was demanded;
whereupon the Vice-Chancellor adjourned the senate _sine die_. On
appeal to the Lord High-Chancellor, he determined in favour of the
Earl of Hardwicke, and a mandamus issued accordingly.

Enough of Actors--let them play the player,
And, free from censure, fret, sweat, strut, and stare;
Garrick abroad, what motives can engage
To waste one couplet on a barren stage?
Ungrateful Garrick! when these tasty days,
In justice to themselves, allow'd thee praise;
When, at thy bidding, Sense, for twenty years,
Indulged in laughter, or dissolved in tears;
When in return for labour, time, and health,
The town had given some little share of wealth,
Couldst thou repine at being still a slave?
Darest thou presume to enjoy that wealth she gave?
Couldst thou repine at laws ordain'd by those
Whom nothing but thy merit made thy foes?
Whom, too refined for honesty and trade,
By need made tradesmen, Pride had bankrupts made;
Whom Fear made drunkards, and, by modern rules,
Whom Drink made wits, though Nature made them fools;
With such, beyond all pardon is thy crime,
In such a manner, and at such a time,
To quit the stage; but men of real sense,
Who neither lightly give, nor take offence,
Shall own thee clear, or pass an act of grace,
Since thou hast left a Powell in thy place.
Enough of Authors--why, when scribblers fail,
Must other scribblers spread the hateful tale?
Why must they pity, why contempt express,
And why insult a brother in distress?
Let those, who boast the uncommon gift of brains
The laurel pluck, and wear it for their pains;
Fresh on their brows for ages let it bloom,
And, ages past, still flourish round their tomb.
Let those who without genius write, and write,
Versemen or prosemen, all in Nature's spite,
The pen laid down, their course of folly run
In peace, unread, unmention'd, be undone.
Why should I tell, to cross the will of Fate,
That Francis once endeavour'd to translate?
Why, sweet oblivion winding round his head,

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poem by Charles Churchill
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M'Fingal - Canto IV

Now Night came down, and rose full soon
That patroness of rogues, the Moon;
Beneath whose kind protecting ray,
Wolves, brute and human, prowl for prey.
The honest world all snored in chorus,
While owls and ghosts and thieves and Tories,
Whom erst the mid-day sun had awed,
Crept from their lurking holes abroad.

On cautious hinges, slow and stiller,
Wide oped the great M'Fingal's cellar,
Where safe from prying eyes, in cluster,
The Tory Pandemonium muster.
Their chiefs all sitting round descried are,
On kegs of ale and seats of cider;
When first M'Fingal, dimly seen,
Rose solemn from the turnip-bin.
Nor yet his form had wholly lost
Th' original brightness it could boast,
Nor less appear'd than Justice Quorum,
In feather'd majesty before 'em.
Adown his tar-streak'd visage, clear
Fell glistening fast th' indignant tear,
And thus his voice, in mournful wise,
Pursued the prologue of his sighs.

"Brethren and friends, the glorious band
Of loyalty in rebel land!
It was not thus you've seen me sitting,
Return'd in triumph from town-meeting;
When blust'ring Whigs were put to stand,
And votes obey'd my guiding hand,
And new commissions pleased my eyes;
Blest days, but ah, no more to rise!
Alas, against my better light,
And optics sure of second-sight,
My stubborn soul, in error strong,
Had faith in Hutchinson too long.
See what brave trophies still we bring
From all our battles for the king;
And yet these plagues, now past before us,
Are but our entering wedge of sorrows!

"I see, in glooms tempestuous, stand
The cloud impending o'er the land;
That cloud, which still beyond their hopes
Serves all our orators with tropes;

[...] Read more

poem by John Trumbull
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Rosciad

Unknowing and unknown, the hardy Muse
Boldly defies all mean and partial views;
With honest freedom plays the critic's part,
And praises, as she censures, from the heart.

Roscius deceased, each high aspiring player
Push'd all his interest for the vacant chair.
The buskin'd heroes of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's sake tells undeserved mishaps,
And, their applause to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a suppliant's form assume;
In pompous strain fight o'er the extinguish'd war,
And show where honour bled in every scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The strongest plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form our judgment in another way;
And they will best succeed, who best can pay:
Those who would gain the votes of British tribes,
Must add to force of merit, force of bribes.
What can an actor give? In every age
Cash hath been rudely banish'd from the stage;
Monarchs themselves, to grief of every player,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other seat,
Pour seas of wine, and mountains raise of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as soon,
And of 'Roast Beef,' they only know the tune:
But what they have they give; could Clive do more,
Though for each million he had brought home four?
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat;
Foote, at Old House,--for even Foote will be,
In self-conceit, an actor,--bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinson at second-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
The town divided, each runs several ways,
As passion, humour, interest, party sways.
Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
A dress well chosen, or a patch misplaced,
Conciliate favour, or create distaste.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praises; he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have something smart,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
Added by Poetry Lover
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Let Me Know

I get a little peck and you're after to bed
No warmth, no hug, no kind words are said
Will you dream of me or someone new instead, oh
Just love me and mean it, i'll follow you blind
Lately i feel like a heart left behind
I just can't stand still till you make up your mind
Let me know, let me know, i have a right
Before you touch me one more night
Have i won your love or have i lost the fight
Let me know, let me know, i have a right
To plan my future, get on with my life
Tell me face to face, don't try to be polite
I'll take it, i'll make it
Ooh, yes, i will
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah
Listen, listen
I'm livin' each minute with all that i've got
Each breath is in pardon, each heartbeat is hot
That's the way we were way back, you forgot [he forgot, he forgot], ooh
You leave me so empty, it's makin' me sad
To know that our good thing has turned for the bad
Both of us are here, but where's the love we had
Let me know, let me know, i have a right
Before you touch me one more night
Have i won your love or have i lost the fight
Let me know, let me know, i have a right
To plan my future, get on with my life
Tell me face to face, don't try to be polite
Let me know, let me know
Let me know, let me know, i have a right
To plan my future, get on with my life
Tell me face to face, don't try to be polite
I'll take it
Heaven knows i'll make it
I get a little peck and you're after to bed
No warmth, no hug, and no kind words are said
Will you dream of me or someone new instead, listen
Just love me and mean it, i'll follow you blind
Lately i feel like a heart left behind
I just can't stand still till you make up your mind, listen
I get a little peck and you're after to bed
No warmth, no hug, no kind words are said
Will you dream of me or someone new instead, oh
Just love me and mean it, i'll follow you blind
But lately i feel like a heart left behind
I just can't stand still till you make up your mind
Let me know, let me know, i have a right
Before you touch me one more night
Have i won your love or have i lost the fight
Let me know, let me know, i have a right

[...] Read more

song performed by Gloria Gaynor
Added by Lucian Velea
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Let Me Know (I Have A Right)

I get a little peck and youre after to bed
No warmth, no hug, no kind words are said
Will you dream of me or someone new instead, oh
Just love me and mean it, Ill follow you blind
Lately I feel like a heart left behind
I just cant stand still till you make up your mind
Let me know, let me know, I have a right
Before you touch me one more night
Have I won your love or have I lost the fight
Let me know, let me know, I have a right
To plan my future, get on with my life
Tell me face to face, dont try to be polite
Ill take it, Ill make it
Ooh, yes, I will
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah
Listen, listen
Im livin each minute with all that Ive got
Each breath is in pardon, each heartbeat is hot
Thats the way we were way back, you forgot [he forgot, he forgot], ooh
You leave me so empty, its makin me sad
To know that our good thing has turned for the bad
Both of us are here, but wheres the love we had
Let me know, let me know, I have a right
Before you touch me one more night
Have I won your love or have I lost the fight
Let me know, let me know, I have a right
To plan my future, get on with my life
Tell me face to face, dont try to be polite
Let me know, let me know
Let me know, let me know, I have a right
To plan my future, get on with my life
Tell me face to face, dont try to be polite
Ill take it
Heaven knows Ill make it
I get a little peck and youre after to bed
No warmth, no hug, and no kind words are said
Will you dream of me or someone new instead, listen
Just love me and mean it, Ill follow you blind
Lately I feel like a heart left behind
I just cant stand still till you make up your mind, listen
I get a little peck and youre after to bed
No warmth, no hug, no kind words are said
Will you dream of me or someone new instead, oh
Just love me and mean it, Ill follow you blind
But lately I feel like a heart left behind
I just cant stand still till you make up your mind
Let me know, let me know, I have a right
Before you touch me one more night
Have I won your love or have I lost the fight
Let me know, let me know, I have a right

[...] Read more

song performed by Gloria Gaynor
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lover Man

Babys in the back seat, its so real
Gotta love the feel of the automobile
You get a certain style when youre so mobile
And responsibility you can avoid that trial
Walkin on the wild side
Lookin at the down side
Just a little crazy
Got a kind of strange pride
Standin at the back door, mercy me
Aint no place for the man to be
Its a private love, no publicity
And the woman that hes waitin for is bad news, hell see
Goin to a go-go
Slippin to a life low
Goin for the fake tan
Dreamin up a fashion plan
loverman
Hes a very superficial man
He likes the girls that go there
Hes a dude with a master plan
So young but why should he care?
Drivin into downtown right on time
Smokin like a pistol aimed on line
Waitin for the tingles in his back
All those dangerous feelings getting ready to attack
Walkin on the barbed wire
Playin with desire
Goin for the night plan
Breakin any heart he can
loverman
Hes a very superficial man
He likes the girls that go there
Hes a dude with a master plan
So young but why should he care?
Babys in the back seat
Gotta love the feel
Babys in the back seat
Gotta love the feel
Hes a very superficial man
He likes the girls that go there
Hes a dude with a master plan
So young but why should he care?
Hes a very superficial man
He likes the girls that go there
Hes a dude with a master plan
So young but why should he care?
Hes a very superficial man
His suit is ten years older than his last flame
Hes the dude with the master plan
Hes a very superficial man

[...] Read more

song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
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