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Ode to Weight-watchers

We are weight-watchers
And we are the tasters of dreams,
Escaping irresistible sweets
With mere disdain, it seems,
Contemplating mounds of vanilla,
On which caramel sauces tease.
Any two of us can fancy a tasty thriller,
If the other tacitly agrees.

What wonderful triple cracklin’ goodness
Comprise the greatness of our appetites.
What a fabulous story of quaintness,
Fashioned by our culinary delights.
For each aroma drifting from the cottage eaves,
A rhyme could flutter in the evening breeze.

On a day when the air is cold and dense,
When the streets are snowed upon,
Would anyone see the macaroon stuck in the fence
Through which my calorie-hungry structure may run.
No matter what manner of delicacy
Or however many of them I see,
The double vanilla wafers, like wheels,
Allow me to get away free.

poem by Albert Price
Added by Poetry Lover
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Thriller - Michael Jackson

It's close to midnight and something evil's lurking in the dark
Under the moonlight, you see a sight that almost stops your heart
You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it
You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes
You're paralyzed

'Cause this is thriller, thriller night
And no one's gonna save you from the beast about strike
You know it's thriller, thriller night
You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight

You hear the door slam and realize there's nowhere left to run
You feel the cold hand and wonder if you'll ever see the sun
You close your eyes and hope that this is just imagination, girl!
But all the while you hear the creature creeping up behind
You're out of time

'Cause this is thriller, thriller night
There ain't no second chance against the thing with forty eyes, girl
Thriller, thriller night
You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight

Night creatures calling, the dead start to walk in their masquerade
There's no escaping the jaws of the alien this time
(They're open wide)
This is the end of your life

They're out to get you, there's demons closing in on every side
They will possess you unless you change that number on your dial
Now is the time for you and I to cuddle close together, yeah
All through the night I'll save you from the terror on the screen
I'll make you see

That this is thriller, thriller night
'Cause I can thrill you more than any ghost would ever dare try
Thriller, thriller night
So let me hold you tight and share a
Killer, diller, chiller, thriller here tonight

'Cause this is thriller, thriller night
Girl, I can thrill you more than any ghost would ever dare try
Thriller, thriller night
So let me hold you tight and share a killer, thriller, ow!

(I'm gonna thrill ya tonight)
Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
To terrorize y'alls neighborhood

[...] Read more

poem by Rebecca Ryan
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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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Irresistible Bitch

{b-side of lets pretend were married}
Let him sing
Turn it down a little
Every friday night I call your butt up on the phone
A deeper voice answers and says youre not at home
Now if u think that Im a fool wholl go 4 any line
Then honey, put down all your money, u win every time
Irresistible bitch
I love the way u walk
Irresistible bitch
I love the way u talk
Irresistible bitch
And I really dig the way u kiss
Irresistible
Oh mama, I wish I could resist
All my partners ask me why I take so much abuse
Why am I so faithful, honey? why are u so loose?
They say why am I the one who never gets to take u home?
But they dont know the things u do 2 me when were alone
Irresistible bitch
I love the way u walk
Irresistible bitch
I love the way u talk
Irresistible bitch
I really dig the way u kiss
Irresistible
Oh mama, I wish I could resist
Hurt me, hurt me
Stole all my honey
Played it off like it was a joke
Youre stealing all my honey, baby, keep u by my side
Bleed me till Im broke.
Sugar
Hell if I know why I let u drive my car
Dont I know that walking wont get me very far?
Sure I know that crying over u is just in vain
But all things I lose dont add up to all the things I gain
Irresistible bitch
I love the way u walk
Irresistible bitch
I love the way u talk
Irresistible bitch
And I really dig the way u kiss
Aint it a shame? (irresistible)
Oh mama, mama, I wish I could re-
Hurt me!
Stole all my honey
Played it off like it was a joke
Stealing all my honey, baby, keep u by my side
Bleed me till Im broke

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ice Ice Baby

(vanilla ice, earthquake, m. smooth)
Yo, vip, lets kick it!
Ice ice baby, ice ice baby
All right stop, collaborate and listen
Ice is back with my brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me tightly
Then I flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
Will it ever stop? yo -- I dont know
Turn off the lights and Ill glow
To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal
Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle.
Dance, bum rush the speaker that booms
Im killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom
Deadly, when I play a dope melody
Anything less than the best is a felony
Love it or leave it, you better gain way
You better hit bulls eye, the kid dont play
If there was a problem, yo, Ill solve it
Check out the hook while my dj revolves it
Ice ice baby vanilla, ice ice baby vanilla
Ice ice baby vanilla, ice ice baby vanilla
Now that the party is jumping
With the bass kicked in, the vegas are pumpin
Quick to the point, to the point no faking
Im cooking mcs like a pound of bacon
Burning them if theyre not quick and nimble
I go crazy when I hear a cymbal
And a hi hat with a souped up tempo
Im on a roll and its time to go solo
Rollin in my 5.0
With my ragtop down so my hair can blow
The girlies on standby, waving just to say hi
Did you stop? no -- I just drove by
Kept on pursuing to the next stop
I busted a left and Im heading to the next block
That block was dead
Yo -- so I continued to a1a beachfront ave.
Girls were hot wearing less than bikinis
Rockman lovers driving lamborghinis
Jealous cause Im out geting mine
Shay with a gauge and vanilla with a nine
Reading for the chumps on the wall
The chumps acting ill because theyre so full of eight balls
Gunshots ranged out like a bell
I grabbed my nine -- all I heard were shells
Falling on the concrete real fast
Jumped in my car, slammed on the gas
Bumper to bumper the avenues packed
Im trying to get away before the jackers jack
Police on the scene, you know what I mean

[...] Read more

song performed by Vanilla Ice
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ice Ice Baby

(vanilla ice, earthquake, m. smooth)
Yo, vip, lets kick it!
Ice ice baby, ice ice baby
All right stop, collaborate and listen
Ice is back with my brand new invention
Something grabs a hold of me tightly
Then I flow like a harpoon daily and nightly
Will it ever stop? yo -- I dont know
Turn off the lights and Ill glow
To the extreme I rock a mic like a vandal
Light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle.
Dance, bum rush the speaker that booms
Im killing your brain like a poisonous mushroom
Deadly, when I play a dope melody
Anything less than the best is a felony
Love it or leave it, you better gain way
You better hit bulls eye, the kid dont play
If there was a problem, yo, Ill solve it
Check out the hook while my dj revolves it
Ice ice baby vanilla, ice ice baby vanilla
Ice ice baby vanilla, ice ice baby vanilla
Now that the party is jumping
With the bass kicked in, the vegas are pumpin
Quick to the point, to the point no faking
Im cooking mcs like a pound of bacon
Burning them if theyre not quick and nimble
I go crazy when I hear a cymbal
And a hi hat with a souped up tempo
Im on a roll and its time to go solo
Rollin in my 5.0
With my ragtop down so my hair can blow
The girlies on standby, waving just to say hi
Did you stop? no -- I just drove by
Kept on pursuing to the next stop
I busted a left and Im heading to the next block
That block was dead
Yo -- so I continued to a1a beachfront ave.
Girls were hot wearing less than bikinis
Rockman lovers driving lamborghinis
Jealous cause Im out geting mine
Shay with a gauge and vanilla with a nine
Reading for the chumps on the wall
The chumps acting ill because theyre so full of eight balls
Gunshots ranged out like a bell
I grabbed my nine -- all I heard were shells
Falling on the concrete real fast
Jumped in my car, slammed on the gas
Bumper to bumper the avenues packed
Im trying to get away before the jackers jack
Police on the scene, you know what I mean

[...] Read more

song performed by Vanilla Ice
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Loves of the Angels

'Twas when the world was in its prime,
When the fresh stars had just begun
Their race of glory and young Time
Told his first birth-days by the sun;
When in the light of Nature's dawn
Rejoicing, men and angels met
On the high hill and sunny lawn,-
Ere sorrow came or Sin had drawn
'Twixt man and heaven her curtain yet!
When earth lay nearer to the skies
Than in these days of crime and woe,
And mortals saw without surprise
In the mid-air angelic eyes
Gazing upon this world below.

Alas! that Passion should profane
Even then the morning of the earth!
That, sadder still, the fatal stain
Should fall on hearts of heavenly birth-
And that from Woman's love should fall
So dark a stain, most sad of all!

One evening, in that primal hour,
On a hill's side where hung the ray
Of sunset brightening rill and bower,
Three noble youths conversing lay;
And, as they lookt from time to time
To the far sky where Daylight furled
His radiant wing, their brows sublime
Bespoke them of that distant world-
Spirits who once in brotherhood
Of faith and bliss near ALLA stood,
And o'er whose cheeks full oft had blown
The wind that breathes from ALLA'S throne,
Creatures of light such as still play,
Like motes in sunshine, round the Lord,
And thro' their infinite array
Transmit each moment, night and day,
The echo of His luminous word!

Of Heaven they spoke and, still more oft,
Of the bright eyes that charmed them thence;
Till yielding gradual to the soft
And balmy evening's influence-
The silent breathing of the flowers-
The melting light that beamed above,
As on their first, fond, erring hours,-
Each told the story of his love,
The history of that hour unblest,
When like a bird from its high nest

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Moore
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Caramel Kisses (feat. 112)

[Faith Evans]
[Chorus]
Caramel kisses you send my way
I won't complain, just don't go away -
Caramel kisses you send my way
I won't complain, just don't go away
You made my heart melt the other day
When we laid by the fire in the middle of May
It was so romantic I'll say
When you gave me your love in your caramel way
[Chorus]
Many times before and many times again
You'll recall to me the reasons why
You are more than my friend
It's not only because you were there for my kids
It's the simple things like your caramel kiss
[112]
Living life with you can be so right
Loving you through the night
Your love is so amazing, baby
Oh, never have I felt a love like this
Baby, I can't resist
Something about your kiss
Something about your kiss
[Chorus]
Caramel kisses don't go away
Caramel kisses baby, don't go away
Caramel kisses don't go away
Caramel kisses baby, don't go away
Caramel kisses don't go away
Caramel kisses baby, don't go away
[Chorus till fade...]

song performed by Faith Evans
Added by Lucian Velea
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Simply Irresistable

How can it be permissible
She compromised my principle, yeah yeah
That kind of love is mythical
She's anything but typical
She's a craze you'd endorse, she's a powerful force
You're obliged to conform when there's no other course
She used to look good to me, but now I find her
Simply irresistible
Simply irresistible
Her loving is so powerful, huh
It's simply unavoidable
The trend is irreversible
The woman is invincible
She's a natural law, and she leaves me in awe
She deserves the applause, I surrender because
She used to look good to me, but now I find her
Simply irresistible
Simply irresistible
(Simply irresistible) She's so fine, there's no tellin' where the money went
(Simply irresistible) She's all mine, there's no other way to go
She's unavoidable, I'm backed against the wall
She gives me feelings like I never felt before
I'm breaking promises, she's breaking every law
She used to look good to me, but now I find her
Simply irresistible
She's so fine, there's no tellin' where the money went
(Simply irresistible) She's all mine, there's no other way to go
Her methods are inscrutable
The proof is irrefutable, Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
She's so completely kissable, huh
Our lives are indivisible
She's a craze you'd endorse, she's a powerful force
You're obliged to conform when there's no other course
She used to look good to me, but now I find her
Simply irresistible
Simply irresistible
She's so fine, there's no tellin' where the money went
(Simply irresistible) She's all mine, there's no other way to go
She's so fine, there's no tellin' where the money went
(Simply irresistible) She's all mine, there's no other way to go
Simply irresistible

song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Simply Irresistible

How can it be permissible
She compromise my principle, yeah yeah
That kind of love is mythical
Shes anything but typical
Shes a craze youd endorse, shes a powerful force
Youre obliged to conform when theres no other course
She used to look good to me, but now I find her
Simply irresistible
Simply irresistible
Her loving is so powerful, huh
Its simply unavoidable
The trend is irreversible
The woman is invincible
Shes a natural law, and she leaves me in awe
She deserves the applause, I surrender because
She used to look good to me, but now I find her
Simply irresistible
Simply irresistible
Simply irresistible shes so fine, theres no tellin where the money went
Simply irresistible shes all mine, theres no other way to go
Shes unavoidable, Im backed against the wall
She gives me feelings like I never felt before
Im breaking promises, shes breaking every law
She used to look good to me, but now I find her
Simply irresistible
Shes so fine, theres no tellin where the money went
Simply irresistible shes all mine, theres no other way to
Go
Her methods are inscrutable
The proof is irrefutable, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Shes so completely kissable, huh
Our lives are indivisible
Shes a craze youd endorse, shes a powerful force
Youre obliged to conform when theres no other course
She used to look good to me, but now I find her
Simply irresistible
Simply irresistible
Shes so fine, theres no tellin where the money went
Simply irresistible shes all mine, theres no other way to go
Shes so fine, theres no tellin where the money went
Simply irresistible shes all mine, theres no other way to go
Simply irresistible

song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Progress of Taste, or the Fate of Delicacy

Part first.

Perhaps some cloud eclipsed the day,
When thus I tuned my pensive lay:
The ship is launch'd-we catch the gale-
On life's extended ocean sail:
For happiness our course we bend,
Our ardent cry, our general end!
Yet, ah! the scenes which tempt our care
Are, like the forms dispersed in air,
Still dancing near disorder'd eyes,
And weakest his who best descries!'
Yet let me not my birthright barter,
(For wishing is the poet's charter;
All bards have leave to wish what's wanted,
Though few e'er found their wishes granted;
Extensive field! where poets pride them
In singing all that is denied them).
For humble ease, ye Powers! I pray;
That plain warm suit for every day,
And pleasure and brocade, bestow,
To flaunt it-once a month, or so.
The first for constant wear we want;
The first, ye Powers! for ever grant;
But constant wear the last bespatters,
And turns the tissue into tatters.
Where'er my vagrant course I bend,
Let me secure one faithful friend.
Let me, in public scenes, request
A friend of wit and taste, well drest;
And, if I must not hope such favour,
A friend of wit and taste, however.
Alas! that Wisdom ever shuns
To congregate her scatter'd Sons,
Whose nervous forces, well combined,
Would win the field, and sway mankind.
The fool will squeeze, from morn to night,
To fix his follies full in sight;
The note he strikes, the plume he shows,
Attract whole flights of fops and beaus,
And kindred fools, who ne'er had known him,
Flock at the sight, caress and own him;
But ill-starr'd Sense, not gay nor loud,
Steals soft on tiptoe through the crowd;
Conveys his meagre form between,
And slides, like pervious air, unseen;
Contracts his known tenuity,
As though 'twere even a crime to be;
Nor even permits his eyes to stray,
And win acquaintance in their way.

[...] Read more

poem by William Shenstone
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Vanilla Sky

The chef prepares a special menu for your delight, oh my
Tonight you fly so high up in the vanilla sky
Unbearable or great
You gotta love every hour, you must appreciate
This is your time
This is your day
Youve got it all
Dont blow it away
The chef prepares a special menu for your delight, oh my
Tonight you fly so high up in the vanilla sky
Melted tinbeads cast your fortune in a glass of wine
Snail or fish, balloon or dolphin, see yourself shine
This is your time
This is your day
Youve got it all
Dont blow it away
The chef prepares a special menu for your delight, oh my
Tonight you fly so high up in the vanilla sky
In the vanilla, in the vanilla, in the vanilla sky
In the vanilla, in the vanilla, in the vanilla sky
In the vanilla sky

song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Judgement of Hercules

While blooming Spring descends from genial skies,
By whose mild influence instant wonders rise;
From whose soft breath Elysian beauties flow;
The sweets of Hagley, or the pride of Stowe;
Will Lyttleton the rural landscape range,
Leave noisy fame, and not regret the change?
Pleased will he tread the garden's early scenes,
And learn a moral from the rising greens?
There, warm'd alike by Sol's enlivening power,
The weed, aspiring, emulates the flower;
The drooping flower, its fairer charms display'd,
Invites, from grateful hands, their generous aid:
Soon, if none check'd the invasive foe's designs,
The lively lustre of these scenes declines!

'Tis thus the spring of youth, the morn of life,
Rears in our minds the rival seeds of strife:
Then passion riots, reason then contends,
And on the conquest every bliss depends:
Life from the nice decision takes its hue,
And blest those judges who decide like you!
On worth like theirs shall every bliss attend,
The world their favourite, and the world their friend.

There are, who, blind to Thought's fatiguing ray,
As Fortune gives examples, urge their way;
Not Virtue's foes, though they her paths decline,
And scarce her friends, though with her friends they join;
In hers or Vice's casual road advance,
Thoughtless, the sinners or the saints of Chance!
Yet some more nobly scorn the vulgar voice,
With judgment fix, with zeal pursue their choice,
When ripen'd thought, when Reason, born to reign,
Checks the wild tumults of the youthful vein;
While passion's lawless tides, at their command,
Glide through more useful tracks, and bless the land.

Happiest of these is he whose matchless mind,
By learning strengthen'd, and by taste refined,
In Virtue's cause essay'd its earliest powers,
Chose Virtue's paths, and strew'd her paths with flowers.
The first alarm'd, if Freedom waves her wings,
The fittest to adorn each art she brings;
Loved by that prince whom every virtue fires,
Praised by that bard whom every Muse inspires;
Blest in the tuneful art, the social flame;
In all that wins, in all that merits, fame!

'Twas youth's perplexing stage his doubts inspired,
When great Alcides to a grove retired:

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poem by William Shenstone
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His Story

Yo, this is a story of a male female threat to society
You know being misjudged and not respected for what we are
But I want to send this special shout out to my girl tawana brawley
Cause no matter what we say or what we do
Theyll always believe his story (ow)
Chorus:
His story (yeahee, yeahee, yeahee)
Hist story (ow)
Theyre gonna believe
His story
His story
Why does it have to be that we get labeled for what we do
Its hard enough for us to be ourselves without being used
Girls have an image too
But when they get mad at you
There is no telling what theyll say to hurt you
This is a story of a male female threat to society
Why you wanna go and tell a lie on me? (yeahee, yeah, oooh)
His story over mine his story will be his story
And my story is a waste of time (aaaah-aah-aah)
Theyre gonna believe
Chorus
Sometimes I feel like there is no reason for me to explain
No matter how much we complain
You know it all stays the same
They try to call us freaks
Why does it have to be
We cant get justified until we speak up (oooh)
This is a story of a male female threat to society
Why you wanna go and tell a lie on me? (yeahee, yeah, oooh)
His story over mine his story will be his story
And my story is a waste of time (aaaah-aah-aah)
(you know its just a waste of my time)
Theyre gonna believe
His story over mine
So what you gonna do
Dont let it take over you (hey)
My story is a waste of time
Its hard enough to be ourselves without being used
So yo take it from me
Dont be a victim of society
You cant put yourself in a position to be neglected
And disrespected
You have to do whats not expected
Alright
Or all be his story
His story over mine
His story will be his story
(this is a story of) how could you do this to us
Theyre gonna believe

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song performed by TLC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Christmas-Eve

I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.

II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,

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poem by Robert Browning
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Three Women

My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.

Young is her cheek and her throat;
Her eyes have the smile o' May.
And love is the word for each note
In the song of my life to-day.

Her eyes have the smile o' May;
Her heart is the heart of a dove,
And the song of my life to-day
Is love, beautiful love.

Her heart is the heart of a dove,
Ah, would it but fly to my breast
Where love, beautiful love,
Has made it a downy nest.

Ah, would she but fly to my breast,
My love who is young, so young;
I have made her a downy nest
And life is a song to be sung.

1
I.
A dull little station, a man with the eye
Of a dreamer; a bevy of girls moving by;
A swift moving train and a hot Summer sun,
The curtain goes up, and our play is begun.
The drama of passion, of sorrow, of strife,
Which always is billed for the theatre Life.
It runs on forever, from year unto year,
With scarcely a change when new actors appear.
It is old as the world is-far older in truth,
For the world is a crude little planet of youth.
And back in the eras before it was formed,
The passions of hearts through the Universe stormed.

Maurice Somerville passed the cluster of girls
Who twisted their ribbons and fluttered their curls
In vain to attract him; his mind it was plain
Was wholly intent on the incoming train.
That great one eyed monster puffed out its black breath,
Shrieked, snorted and hissed, like a thing bent on death,

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poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Irresistable

Ya know, I dont know what it is
But everything about you is so irresistible.
Dont you try to tell me that hes not my type
To hide what I feel inside
When he makes me weak with desire
I know that Im supposed to make him wait
Let him think I like the chase
But I cant stop fanning the fire
I know Im meant to say no
Chorus:
But hes irresistible
Up close and personal
Now inescapable
I can hardly breathe
More than just physical
Deeper than spiritual
His ways are powerful
Irresistible to me
I can hardly breathe
Dont you think Im trying to tell my heart whats right
That I should really say goodnight
But I just cant stop myself
Maybe Ill tell him that I feel the same
That I dont want to play no game
Cause when I feel his arms wrapped around me
I know Im meant to say no (I meant to say no)
Chorus:
Hes irresistible (irresistable)
Up close and personal
Now inescapable
I can hardly breathe (I can hardly breath)
More than just physical
Deeper than spiritual (oh yeah)
His ways are powerful
Irresistible to me
Cant you see
Whenever hes close to me
I really find it hard to breathe
Hes so irresistible
Baby you know
Its more than just spiritual
His ways are powerful
Hes so irresistable
(youre so irresistable)
Chorus:
Hes irresistible (yeah)
Up close and personal(oh yeah)
Now inescapable
I can hardly breathe (I can hardly breath)
More than just physical

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song performed by Jessica Simpson
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Minstrel ; Or, The Progress Of Genius - Book II.

I.
Of chance or change O let not man complain,
Else shall he never never cease to wail:
For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain
Rears the lone cottage in the silent dale,
All feel the assault of fortune's fickle gale;
Art, empire, earth itself to change are doom'd;
Earthquakes have raised to heaven the humble vale,
And gulphs the mountain's mighty mass entomb'd,
And where the Atlantic rolls wide continents have bloom'd.

II.
But sure to foreign climes we need not range,
Nor search the ancient records of our race,
To learn the dire effects of time and change,
Which in ourselves, alas! we daily trace.
Yet at the darken'd eye, the wither'd face,
Or hoary hair, I never will repine:
But spare, O Time, whate'er of mental grace,
Of candour, love, or sympathy divine,
Whate'er of fancy's ray, of friendship's flame is mine.

III.
So I, obsequious to Truth's dread command,
Shall here without reluctance change my lay,
And smile to the Gothic lyre with harsher hand;
Now when I leave that flowery path for aye
Of childhood, where I sported many a day,
Warbling and sauntering carelessly along;
Where every face was innocent and gay,
Each vale romantic, tuneful every tongue,
Sweet, wild, and artless all, as Edwin's infant song.

IV.
'Perish the lore that deadens young desire,'
Is the soft tenor of my song no more.
Edwin, though loved of Heaven, must not aspire
To bliss, which mortals never knew before.
On trembling wings let youthful fancy soar,
Nor always haunt the sunny realms of joy;
But now and then the shades of life explore;
Though many a sound and sight of wo annoy,
And many a qualm of care his rising hopes destroy.

V.
Vigour from toil, from trouble patience grows.
The weakly bosom, warm in summer bower,
Some tints of transient beauty may disclose;
But soon it withers in the chilling hour.
Mark yonder oak. Superior to the power

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poem by James Beattie
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