Quotes about feign, page 10
Speech of Aquileio
Grown old in courts, thou art not surely one
Who keeps the rigid rules of ancient honour;
Well skill'd to soothe a foe with looks of kindness,
To sink the fatal precipice before him,
And then lament his fall with seeming friendship!
Open to all, true only to thyself,
Thou know'st the arts which blast with envious praise,
Which aggravate a fault with feign'd excuses,
And drive discountenanced virtue from the throne;
That leave the blame of rigour to the prince,
And of his every gift usurp the merit,
That hide in seeming zeal a wicked purpose,
And only build upon another's ruin.
poem by Pietro Metastasio from Adriano, translated by Samuel Johnson
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ASonnet- Man's Quest
Our every desire might not be fulfilled
Enjoy the journey, to your destination.
Even if you feel life is far from idyll
Must go on with a positive affirmation.
Never give up on your dreams and carry on
The mask you don should just never slip down.
Say your prayers in earnest every morn,
Hopefully; go through life without a frown.
When it gets rough take one day at a time,
Be kind to yourself, don’t pity or condemn.
Surrender to him just before bed time,
Remain upbeat, even if you have to feign.
The turmoil starts man’s search for meaning,
It was God’s intention from the very beginning.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Natalia’s Resurrection: Sonnet VI
So he departed angry and in haste,
A bitter wanderer on the ways of life:
He cared not whither so he found a feast
Spread for his hunger which should need no strife.
He went out silent, scornful and alone,
That none might pity him. He would not make
Of his too public grief a public moan,
Nor yet feign laughter for his manhood's sake,
For now that love was lost he less had heart
To cast his pride too on the dunghill there,
And his were griefs where none could bear a part,
And his a cup of pain no lips could share.
He went his way, to Germany some said,
And some to Naples, some that he was dead.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Sonnet- The Bedeviled World
How people change their principles so oft!
How Wolves in sheepskin dressed can kill the flock!
How stooping low can many persons loft!
To crow these days, forgotten has the Cock!
How people speak unnaturally for gain!
How decibels turn soft to achieve things!
How people form a nexus and can feign!
How righteous souls are given just Bee-stings!
The present world just suits the wily lot;
They enjoy life until comes their downfall;
The honest lot is given the back-slot!
How much on swampy ground can bounce a ball?
The present world favors the corrupt folk;
But Egg must have both albumin and yolk!
poem by John Celes
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Bread & Butter
I love bread and butter
and jam upon hot toast
and flowers in the summer
but I love you most.
I love the red spring tulips
and cold strawberry mousse
and I love chocolate pudding
but I love you most.
I love bread and butter
and honey for to spread
though honey is but nothing
to your warm caress.
I love bread and butter
but egg with chips will do
although they only half compare
to my love for you.
[...] Read more
poem by Ruth Walters
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To his Friend Master R. L., In Praise of Music and Poetry
If music and sweet poetry agree,
As they must needs (the sister and the brother),
Then must the love be great 'twixt thee and me,
Because thou lov'st the one, and I the other.
Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch
Upon the lute doth ravish human sense;
Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such
As, passing all conceit, needs no defence.
Thou lov'st to hear the sweet melodious sound
That Ph{oe}bus' lute (the queen of music), makes;
And I in deep delight am chiefly drown'd
Whenas himself to singing he betakes.
One god is god of both (as poets feign),
One knight loves both, and both in thee remai
poem by Richard Barnfield
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Sonnet XXXIX: Sleepless Dreams
Girt in dark growths, yet glimmering with one star,
O night desirous as the nights of youth!
Why should my heart within thy spell, forsooth,
Now beat, as the bride's finger-pulses are
Quickened within the girdling golden bar?
What wings are these that fan my pillow smooth?
And why does Sleep, waved back by Joy and Ruth,
Tread softly round and gaze at me from far?
Nay, night deep-leaved! And would Love feign in thee
Some shadowy palpitating grove that bears
Rest for man's eyes and music for his ears?
O lonely night! art thou not known to me,
A thicket hung with masks of mockery
And watered with the wasteful warmth of tears?
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The Kiss
What began in stone-marble perfection,
Eyelids a-touch,
Mouths wide open,
Clambered for much,
Remembrance unspoken,
His hand on her knee,
Excellent panoply,
Frozen in time and memory;
For they felt an inordinate thrill
Lasting an Age,
Carved with living hands.
On the rickety scaffold that bent,
And when it finally went,
The lovers remained
Broadcasting no shame.
Look at the various angles,
And their lips remain entangled
In a light and airy eroticism,
Beyond any critic's criticism.
[...] Read more
poem by Stan Petrovich
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The Kindergarten Kid
The conniving kindergarten kid,
Presents many excuses valid,
A variety of 'aches', he loves to feign,
Oh! Going to school is such a pain.
Alas! Mummy is never convinced,
She knows her child is an actor accomplished.
He goes to school with a long face,
The hatred for school, he can hardly efface.
He enters the classroom and faces his teacher,
Oh! how he hates this frightful creature.
He moves to the back bench cautiously,
For his shoes aren't polished properly.
He loves to read and write,
The dance and drill classes are an absolute delight.
Alas! If only he could do things freely,
Everyday he would go to school willingly.
poem by Supriya Prathapan
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Palpable love, true beauty, wandering in thee
Palpable love, true beauty, wandering in thee
Touching each atom, insinuating in every gene
Playing each organ, in solemn symphony;
I hear thy deaf beauty, thy beauty I feign.
Magnificent, marvelous I seamlessly wonder
Can my mind ever achieve the beauty of thee?
I can only listen and not touch thy thunder;
The musical nature which thou compose me.
No genius, intuition from love's orb
Revolves around thee and the soul thy possess,
For in music and by music thou absorb
All truth, all beauty, that my heart doth obsess.
So orchestrate with thy breathe and uplift me high
Without thy music, I am mortal, I know I shall die…
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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