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To The Royal Society (excerpts)

Philosophy the great and only heir
Of all that human knowledge which has bin
Unforfeited by man's rebellious sin,
Though full of years he do appear,
(Philosophy, I say, and call it, he,
For whatso'ere the painter's fancy be,
It a male-virtue seems to me)
Has still been kept in nonage till of late,
Nor manag'd or enjoy'd his vast estate:
Three or four thousand years one would have thought,
To ripeness and perfection might have brought
A science so well bred and nurst,
And of such hopeful parts too at the first.
But, oh, the guardians and the tutors then,
(Some negligent, and some ambitious men)
Would ne'er consent to set him free,
Or his own natural powers to let him see,
Lest that should put an end to their authority.

That his own business he might quite forget,

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poem by Abraham Cowley
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Perkin Warbeck

i

At Turney in Flanders I was born
Fore-doomed to splendour and sorrow,
For I was a king when they cut the corn,
And they strangle me to-morrow.

ii

Oh ! why was I made so red and white,
So fair and straight and tall ?
And why were my eyes so blue and bright,
And my hands so white and small ?

iii

And why was my hair like the yellow silk,
And curled like the hair of a king ?
And my body like the soft new milk
That the maids bring from milking ?

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poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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On The Report Of A Monument To Be Erected In Westminster Abbey, To The Memory Of A Late Author (Churchill)

Bufo, begone! with thee may Faction's fire,
That hatch'd thy salamander-fame, expire.
Fame, dirty idol of the brainless crowd,
What half-made moon-calf can mistake for good!
Since shared by knaves of high and low degree;
Cromwell and Cataline: Guido Faux, and thee.
By nature uninspired, untaught by art;
With not one thought that breathes the feeling heart,
With not one offering vow'd to Virtue's shrine,
With not one pure unprostituted line;
Alike debauch'd in body, soul, and lays;—
For pension'd censure, and for pension'd praise,
For ribaldry, for libels, lewdness, lies,
For blasphemy of all the good and wise:
Coarse violence in coarser doggrel writ,
Which bawling blackguards spell'd, and took for wit:
For conscience, honour, slighted, spurn'd, o'erthrown:—
Lo! Bufo shines the minion of renown.
Is this the land that boasts a Milton's fire,
And magic Spenser's wildly warbling lyre?

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poem by James Beattie
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Retaliation: A Poem

1 Of old, when Scarron his companions invited,
2 Each guest brought his dish, and the feast was united;
3 If our landlord supplies us with beef, and with fish,
4 Let each guest bring himself, and he brings the best dish:
5 Our Dean shall be venison, just fresh from the plains;
6 Our Burke shall be tongue, with a garnish of brains;
7 Our Will shall be wild fowl, of excellent flavour,
8 Our Cumberland's sweet-bread its place shall obtain,
9 And Douglas is pudding, substantial and plain:
10 Our Garrick's a salad, for in him we see
11 Oil, vinegar, sugar, and saltness agree:
12 To make out the dinner, full certain I am,
13 That Ridge is an anchovy, and Reynolds is lamb;
14 That Hickey's a capon, and by the same rule,
15 Magnanimous Goldsmith, a gooseberry fool:
16 At a dinner so various, at such a repast,
17 Who'd not be a glutton, and stick to the last:
18 Here, waiter, more wine, let me sit while I'm able,
19 'Till all my companions sink under the table;
20 Then with chaos and blunders encircling my head,

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poem by Oliver Goldsmith
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Tunbridge Wells

At five this morn, when Phoebus raised his head
From Thetis' lap, I raised myself from bed,
And mounting steed, I trotted to the waters
The rendesvous of fools, buffoons, and praters,
Cuckolds, whores, citizens, their wives and daughters.

My squeamish stomach I with wine had bribed
To undertake the dose that was prescribed;
But turning head, a sudden curséd view
That innocent provision overthrew,
And without drinking, made me purge and spew.
From coach and six a thing unweildy rolled,
Whose lumber, card more decently would hold.
As wise as calf it looked, as big as bully,
But handled, proves a mere Sir Nicholas Cully;
A bawling fop, a natural Nokes, and yet
He dares to censure as if he had wit.
To make him more ridiculous, in spite
Nature contrived the fool should be a knight.
Though he alone were dismal signt enough,

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poem by Lord John Wilmot
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An Ode In Time of Inauguration

(March 4, 1913)

Thine aid, O Muse, I consciously beseech;
I crave thy succour, ask for thine assistance
That men may cry: "Some little ode! A peach!"
O Muse, grant me the strength to go the distance!
For odes, I learn, are dithyrambs, and long;
Exalted feeling, dignity of theme
And complicated structure guide the song.
(All this from Webster's book of high esteem.)

Let complicated structures not becloud
My lucid lines, nor weight with overloading.
To Shelley, Keats, and Wordsworth and that crowd
I yield the bays for grand and lofty oding.
Mine but the task to trace a country's growth,
As evidenced by each innauguration
From Washington's to Wilson's primal oath--
In these U.S., the celebrated nation.

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poem by Franklin P. Adams
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An Epistle To Dr. Moore

Whether dispensing hope, and ease
To the pale victim of disease,
Or in the social crowd you sit,
And charm the group with sense and wit,
Moore's partial ear will not disdain
Attention to my artless strain.

An Epistle To Dr. Moore, Author Of A View Of Society And Manners In France, Switzerland And Germany
I mean no giddy heights to climb,
And vainly toil to be sublime;
While every line with labour wrought,
Is swell'd with tropes for want of thought:
Nor shall I call the Muse to shed
Castalian drops upon my head;
Or send me from Parnassian bowers
A chaplet wove of fancy's flowers.
At present all such aid I slight—
My heart instructs me how to write.

That softer glide my hours along,

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poem by Helen Maria Williams
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Intermission Ii

No you not goin
I am goin to the club, I am goin,
No, Im not havin it
I am goin to the club wit you and the boys
You not hangin out wit the boys
No...
I aint never been Im goin...(ring)
Ima go and get the phone but
I am goin to the club
Hello
T-boz
Yeah
Uh, get down to the studio quick you hafta
Hurry you gotta do your part
Yeah, yeah alright Ill be there
Alright...
Thanks, bye
Look, I gotta go to the studio so whats it gonna be
You gon take me or what?
Dang, you gotta go to the studio...

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song performed by TLC
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It's True

Intro:
Yeah, it's 97 going into 98
And I've been doin' this for mad years, payin' dues
This is my heart, my purpose in life
And finally I'm on
Which brings me to realise that the tough life that I had only made me
stronger, ...TRUE
Chorus: Richard Stites
A ha ha ha ha
I know this much is true
A ha ha ha ha
I know this much is true
Verse One:
Growin' up didn't want to have nothing to do wit' you
Make you hittin' everybody went to high school wit' you
Wanna play you close and jump in the pool wit' you
I don't know what to do but this much is true
And in the hood, they all like to knock your career
And turn right around when you hot a gear
I played Midas and told them that it's God I fear

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song performed by Queen Pen
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Cup Of Wonder

May I make my fond excuses
For the lateness of the hour,
But we accept your invitation, and we bring you beltanes flower.
For the may day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
And those who ancient lines did lay
Will heed the song that calls them back.
Pass the word and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.
Ask the green man where he comes from, ask the cup that fills with red.
Ask the old grey standing stones that show the sun its way to bed.
Question all as to their ways,
And learn the secrets that they hold.
Walk the lines of natures palm
Crossed with silver and with gold.
Pass the cup and pass the lady, pass the plate to all who hunger.
Pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the cup of crimson wonder.
Join in black decembers sadness,
Lie in augusts welcome corn.
Stir the cup thats ever-filling
With the blood of all thats born.

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song performed by Jethro Tull
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