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Book Of The Duchesse

THE PROEM

I have gret wonder, be this lighte,
How that I live, for day ne nighte
I may nat slepe wel nigh noght,
I have so many an ydel thoght
Purely for defaute of slepe
That, by my trouthe, I take no kepe
Of no-thing, how hit cometh or goth,
Ne me nis no-thing leef nor loth.
Al is y-liche good to me --
Ioye or sorowe, wherso hyt be --
For I have feling in no-thinge,
But, as it were, a mased thing,
Alway in point to falle a-doun;
For sorwful imaginacioun
Is alway hoolly in my minde.
And wel ye wite, agaynes kynde
Hit were to liven in this wyse;
For nature wolde nat suffyse

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poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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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,

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poem by Charles Churchill
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The Progress Of Wit

DIVERTING in extreme there is a play,
Which oft resumes its fascinating sway;
Delights the sex, or ugly, fair, or sour;
By night or day:--'tis sweet at any hour.
The frolick, ev'ry where is known to fame;
Conjecture if you can, and tells its name.

THIS play's chief charm to husbands is unknown;
'Tis with the lover it excels alone;
No lookers-on, as umpires, are required;
No quarrels rise, though each appears inspired;
All seem delighted with the pleasing game:--
Conjecture if you can, and tell its name.

BE this as 'twill, and called whate'er it may;
No longer trifling with it I shall stay,
But now disclose a method to transmit
(As oft we find) to ninnies sense and wit.
Till Alice got instruction in this school,
She was regarded as a silly fool,

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poem by La Fontaine
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The Windigo

Go easy wit' de paddle, an' steady wit' de
oar
Geev rudder to de bes' man you got among
de crew,
Let ev'ry wan be quiet, don't let dem sing no
more
W'en you see de islan' risin' out of Grande
Lac Manitou
Above us on de sky dere, de summer cloud
may float
Aroun' us on de water de ripple never show,
But somet'ing down below us can rock de
stronges' boat,
W'en we 're comin' near de islan' of de
spirit Windigo!

De carcajou may breed dere, an' otter sweem
de poole
De moosh-rat mak' de mud house, an' beaver
buil' hees dam

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poem by William Henry Drummond
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Rock Wit You (Aww Baby)

Awww baby (yeah Murder Inc)
Ooohh I love you babe, really love you babe
Ooohh baby (Ashanti, Chapter II, let's rock)
(CHORUS:)
Can you rock wit me
(aww baby)
Non-stop wit me
Can you take it to the top wit me
I just wanna love you baby
Always thinkin of you baby
VERSE 1:
I think i like how your body feels next to me
Aww baby when your kissin me
Aww baby when your lovin me
I cant describe what i wanna do to you tonight
Aww baby when you come to me
I'll make it so you never leave
(CHORUS:)
Can you rock wit me
(aww baby)

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song performed by Ashanti
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Come Over

Ooh
Mmm mm mm
Mm yeah
Uh, mm, yeah
I just touched down
Quarter after two
I know its late
Im calling you
Tryin to figure if i
Can come see you
(can I come see you? )
I know youre asleep
But youre on my mind
Im wide awake
And I wanna stop by
So you can get up
And get out of the bed
Cuz I wanna see you
And I been wondering....
Can I come over?

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song performed by Aaliyah
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Wit's All Been Done Before

I wish I could, innovate,
And try to stretch your minds,
Cause often times, when guys like me,
Do that they leave themselves behind,
To clean a mess, or to impress,
A little bit of everyone,
But to innovate, is a mistake,
Cause there's nothing new under the sun.
Cause we're all getting tired of the media,
Cause it tries too hard to make you write something,
Cause we're all getting tired of the media,
Cause creating something new is just recycling,
Wit, wit's all been done before,
Yeah we do something to death,
Then we dig it up just to do it some more.
In all my lines of warning signs,
But not all with dead ends,
And I'm not sure if the clever words,
All sit well with my friends,
But I will not just sit and watch,

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song performed by Relient K
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Purse Snatchaz

[chorus: greg valentine]
Theres no sunshine in the city
Thats the way its going down
People kill and people dyin
Every time I turn around
Theres no sunshine...
[sticky fingaz]
I roll wit purse snatchaz, the villains, and trespassers
Criminalist, and parole violators
I raidin wit regulators, invaded the instigators
Passed the procrastinators, rolled on retaliators
Roamin at home wit burglars, party wit murderers
Scandal big reelers, I sell coke to dope dealers
Ask the stash dealers, so rash the gat peelers
The time behind bars, ridin in stolen cars
Forty deuce six, posin hard, rollin large
Big pockets that pay, pistol black is big smackers
Back up the ally, attack us, waitin for the crackers
Smugglers, muggers, in the gutters wit ruck cutters
Runnin up on niggas for butter lovers, or whatever

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song performed by Onyx
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 19

Thus I awaked and wroot what I hadde ydremed,
And dighte me derely, and dide me to chirche,
To here holly the masse and to be housled after.
In myddes of the masse, tho men yede to offryng,
I fel eftsoones aslepe - and sodeynly me mette
That Piers the Plowman was peynted al blody,
And com in with a cros bifore the comune peple,
And right lik in alle lymes to Oure Lord Jesu.
And thanne called I Conscience to kenne me the sothe
'Is this Jesus the justere,' quod I, 'that Jewes dide to dethe?
Or it is Piers the Plowman! Who peynted hym so rede?'
Quod Conscience, and kneled tho, ' Thise arn Piers armes -
Hise colours and his cote armure; ac he that cometh so blody
Is Crist with his cros, conquerour of Cristene.'
'Why calle ye hym Crist?' quod I, 'sithen Jewes called hym Jesus?
Patriarkes and prophetes prophecied bifore
That alle kynne creatures sholden knelen and bowen
Anoon as men nempned the name of God Jesu.
Ergo is no name to the name of Jesus,
Ne noon so nedeful to nempne by nyghte ne by daye.

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poem by William Langland
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 10

Thanne hadde Wit a wif, was hote Dame Studie,
That lene was of lere and of liche bothe.
She was wonderly wroth that Wit me thus taughte,
And al staiynge Dame Studie sterneliche seide.
'Wel artow wis,' quod she to Wit, 'any wisdomes to telle
To flatereres or to fooles that frenetike ben of wittes!' -
And blamed hym and banned hym and bad hym be stille -
'With swiche wise wordes to wissen any sottes!'
And seide, ' Nolite mittere, man, margery perles
Among hogges that han hawes at wille.
Thei doon but dryvele theron - draf were hem levere
Than al the precious perree that in paradis wexeth.
I seye it by swiche,' quod she, 'that sheweth by hir werkes
That hem were levere lond and lordshipe on erthe,
Or richesse or rentes and reste at hir wille
Than alle the sooth sawes that Salamon seide evere.

'Wisdom and wit now is noght worth a kerse
But if it be carded with coveitise as clotheres kemben hir wolle.
Whoso can contreve deceites and conspire wronges

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poem by William Langland
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