Quotes about steely, page 11
A Love For All Seasons
There's no truth in the rumour
That's all I want to say
There's no room for manoevre
Make sure that it stays
A love for all seasons
October was a drag
Damn it all
You and I were fools
Overcast and sad
Winter blues
Allowing us to cool
When it's grey I know all I want to do
Resort to make-believe
There's no truth in the rumour
That's all I want to say
There's no room for manoevre
Make sure that it stays
A love for all seasons
January comes
Steely blue
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song performed by Right Said Fred
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Hotel California (live In Japan)
On a dark desert highway,
cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas,
rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance,
I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself,
'This could be Heaven and this could be Hell'
Then she lit up a candle
and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...
Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
There's plenty of room at the Hotel California
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song performed by Wilson Phillips
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African Night Flight
African nightmare one-time mormon
More men fall in hullabaloo men
I slide to the nearest bar
Undermine chairman I went too far
Bent on a windfall rent a sony
Wonder how the dollar went down
Gotta get a word to elizabeths father
Hey no, he wished me well
Seemed like another day
I could fly into the eye of God on high
His burning eye will see me through
(one of these days, one of these days got get work through one of these days)
His burning eye will see me through
(one of these days, one of these days, got get work through one of these days)
Asanti habari habari
Asanti nabana nabana
Asanti habari habari
Asanti nabana nabana
Asanti habari habari
Asanti nabana nabana
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song performed by David Bowie
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Hotel California
On a dark desert highway,
Cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas,
Rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance,
I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night
There she stood in the doorway;
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself,
this could be heaven and this could be hell
Then she lit up a candle
And she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor,
I thought I heard them say...
Welcome to the hotel california
Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
Theres plenty of room at the hotel california
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song performed by Wilson Phillips
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The Kind Word
Speak kindly, wife; the little ones will grow
Fairest and straightest in the warmest sun.
We talk so often of the seed we sow;
But, maybe, when we think our labour done,
And when we look to gather in the grain,
We'll find these stones, we fling about, again
Strewing the fruitless sod,
Having crush'd down and stunted the sweet life
That bore the likeness of the life of God.
All your hard words of bitterness and strife
Will lie upon their love, as stones would lie;
You think to pick them up, but, by-and-by,
You'll find where they have lain
By the poor, meagre, crooked ears of grain.
You will be sorry then.
Speak kindly, wife; you know not half the wealth
Kind words bring in. Ah! I remember when
I was a little lad, all youth and health,
How I went wrong for want of one, and how
One saved my life—ay, keeps it steady now.
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poem by Ada Cambridge
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Marmion: Introduction to Canto I
November's sky is chill and drear,
November's leaf is red and sear:
Late, gazing down the steepy linn
That hems our little garden in,
Low in its dark and narrow glen
You scarce the rivulet might ken,
So thick the tangled greenwood grew,
So feeble thrilled the streamlet through:
Now, murmuring hoarse, and frequent seen
Through bush and briar, no longer green,
An angry brook, it sweeps the glade,
Brawls over rock and wild cascade,
And foaming brown, with doubled speed,
Hurries its waters to the Tweed.
No longer Autumn's glowing red
Upon our forest hills is shed;
No more, beneath the evening beam,
Fair Tweed reflects their purple gleam:
Away hath passed the heather-bell
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poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Trivia; or the Art of Walking the Streets of London: Book I.
Of the Implements for Walking the Streets,
and Signs of the Weather.
Through winter streets to steer your courses aright,
How to walk clean by day, and safe by night,
How jostling crowds, with prudence to decline,
When to assert the wall, and when resign,
I sing: thou, Trivia, goddess, aid my song,
Through spacious streets conduct thy bard along;
By thee transported, I securely stray
Where winding alleys lead the doubtful way,
The silent court, and opening square explore,
And long perplexing lanes untrod before.
To pave thy realm, and smooth the broken ways,
Earth from her womb a flinty tribute pays;
For thee, the sturdy paver thumps the ground,
Whilst every stroke his labouring lungs resound;
For thee the scavenger bids kennels glide
Within their bounds, and heaps of dirt subside,
My youthful bosom burns with thirst of fame.
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poem by John Gay
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New-Englands Crisis
IN seventy five the Critick of our years
Commenc'd our war with Phillip and his peers.
Whither the sun in Leo had inspir'd
A feav'rish heat, and Pagan spirits fir'd?
Whither some Romish Agent hatcht the plot?
Or whither they themselves? appeareth not.
Whither our infant thrivings did invite?
Or whither to our lands pretended right?
Is hard to say; but Indian spirits need
No grounds but lust to make a Christian bleed.
And here methinks I see this greazy Lout
With all his pagan slaves coil'd round about,
Assuming all the majesty his throne
Of rotten stump, or of the rugged stone
Could yield; casting some bacon-rine-like looks,
Enough to fright a Student from his books,
Thus treat his peers, and next to them his Commons,
Kennel'd together all without a summons.
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poem by Benjamin Tompson
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A Poem Upon The Death Of O.C.
That Providence which had so long the care
Of Cromwell's head, and numbred ev'ry hair,
Now in its self (the Glass where all appears)
Had seen the period of his golden Years:
And thenceforth onely did attend to trace,
What death might least so sair a Life deface.
The People, which what most they fear esteem,
Death when more horrid so more noble deem;
And blame the last Act, like Spectators vain,
Unless the Prince whom they applaud be slain.
Nor Fate indeed can well refuse that right
To those that liv'd in War, to dye in Fight.
But long his Valour none had left that could
Indanger him, or Clemency that would.
And he whom Nature all for Peace had made,
But angry Heaven unto War had sway'd,
And so less useful where he most desir'd,
For what he least affected was admir'd,
Deserved yet an End whose ev'ry part
Should speak the wondrous softness of his Heart.
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poem by Andrew Marvell
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The Death of Cromwell
A Poem upon the Death of His Late Highness the Lord Protector
That Providence which had so long the care
Of Cromwell's head, and numbered every hair,
Now in itself (the glass where all appears)
Had seen the period of his golden years:
And thenceforh only did attend to trace
What death might least so fair a life deface.
The people, which what most they fear esteem,
Death when more horrid, so more noble deem,
And blame the last act, like spectators vain,
Unless the prince whom they applaud be slain.
Nor fate indeed can well refuse that right
To those that lived in war, to die in fight.
But long his valour none had left that could
Endanger him, or clemency that would.
And he whom Nature all for peace had made,
But angry heaven unto war had swayed,
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poem by Andrew Marvell
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