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Quotes about t'pol, page 3

Rueben is Dead

Pen Brutish Rueben is dead, cold blooded, and dumb
We shall not mourn,
Our first born scribe now buried in their ruins, as many of his likes
Weep not comrades,
Will he speak for himself?
Not again,
The rejoinder master lies on the laps of Delilah’s whom he once denounced
He shook hands with the devil and died
Ruben was not killed with their barrels when he ought to have been dead
He gave himself up willingly
And threw reputation to the mire
The columns of contradicted life condemns conscience
Disparaged pages of Jewish fated hypocrisies
Public circulated ranting at the Rutam House for advantage
Only reprobates, dares to defend these, justifying them in rejoinders
The obvious, we lost him
A consenting silence, the booing of legislators, the shock of commoners
No rejoinders, none till the expiration of his mingle after four years,
If it comes,
It will be weak, supportive of the evil he once decries

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Milking Time

There's a drip of honeysuckle in the deep green lane;
There's old Martin jogging homeward on his worn old wain;
There are cherry petals falling, and a cuckoo calling, calling,
And a score of larks (God bless 'em) . . . but it's all pain, pain.
For you see I am not really there at all, not at all;
For you see I'm in the trenches where the crump-crumps fall;
And the bits o' shells are screaming and it's only blessed dreaming
That in fancy I am seeming back in old Saint Pol.

Oh I've thought of it so often since I've come down here;
And I never dreamt that any place could be so dear;
The silvered whinstone houses, and the rosy men in blouses,
And the kindly, white-capped women with their eyes spring-clear.
And mother's sitting knitting where her roses climb,
And the angelus is calling with a soft, soft chime,
And the sea-wind comes caressing, and the light's a golden blessing,
And Yvonne, Yvonne is guessing that it's milking time.

Oh it's Sunday, for she's wearing of her broidered gown;
And she draws the pasture pickets and the cows come down;

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Quart Pot Creek

On an evening ramble lately, as I wandered on sedately,
Linking curious fancies, modern, mediaeval, and antique—
Suddenly the sun descended, and a radiance ruby-splendid,
With the gleam of water blended, thrilled my sensitive physique—
Thrilled me, filled me with emotion to the tips of my physique,
Fired my eye, and flushed my cheek.

Heeding not where I was going, I had wandered, all unknowing,
Where a river gently flowing caught the radiant ruby-streak;
And this new-found stream beguiling my sedateness into smiling,
Set me classically styling it with Latin names and Greek,
Names Idalian and Castalian, such as lovers of the Greek
Roll like quids within their cheek.

On its marge was many a burrow, many a mound, and many a furrow,
Where the fossickers of fortune play at Nature's hide-and-seek;
And instead of bridge to span it, there were stepping-stones of granite,
And where'er the river ran, it seemed of hidden wealth to speak.
Presently my soul grew stronger, and I, too, was fain to speak:—
I assumed a pose plastique.

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The Falcon

Fair Princesse of the spacious air,
That hast vouchsaf'd acquaintance here,
With us are quarter'd below stairs,
That can reach heav'n with nought but pray'rs;
Who, when our activ'st wings we try,
Advance a foot into the sky.

Bright heir t' th' bird imperial,
From whose avenging penons fall
Thunder and lightning twisted spun!
Brave cousin-german to the Sun!
That didst forsake thy throne and sphere,
To be an humble pris'ner here;
And for a pirch of her soft hand,
Resign the royal woods' command.

How often would'st thou shoot heav'ns ark,
Then mount thy self into a lark;
And after our short faint eyes call,
When now a fly, now nought at all!

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Hans Christian Andersen

Sommerflugt og Hvile

Gjærdet staaer med vilde Roser,
Nedenfor er' Tørvemoser,
Storken der paa røde Hoser
Fisker i det lave Vand.
Under disse gamle Pile,
Her paa Stenen vil jeg hvile,
See omkring mig mange Mile,
Medens Garnet de udspile
Nede ved den blanke Strand.

Mægtigt trykker Søen Furen,
Hvor, omkrandset af Naturen,
Fiskerhytten staaer med Muren,
Overgroet af Bukketjørn!
Inde toner Aftensangen,
Mens, med Seilet løst om Stangen,
Baaden lige sætter Gangen
Ind mod Kysten, hvor i Tangen
Lege halvt afklædte Børn.

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Hans Christian Andersen

Juli

'- Alting svulmer, alting gynger,
Bølge, Luft og Hierte synger
Høit din Priis, Du stolte Hav'.
'- Armen jeg om Vennen slynger,
Hiertet sig til Hiertet klynger;
Hver en Sorg, som Barmen tynger,
Svinder hen i Blomsterduft!'
*
Gjærdet staaer med vilde Roser,
Nedenfor er' Tørvemoser,
Storken der paa røde Hoser
Fisker i det lave Vand.
Under disse gamle Pile,
Her paa Stenen vil jeg hvile,
See omkring mig mange Mile,
Medens Garnet de udspile
Nede ved den blanke Strand.

Mægtigt trykker Søen Furen,
Hvor, omkrandset af Naturen,

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The Toad And Spyder. A Duell

Upon a day, when the Dog-star
Unto the world proclaim'd a war,
And poyson bark'd from black throat,
And from his jaws infection shot,
Under a deadly hen-bane shade
With slime infernal mists are made,
Met the two dreaded enemies,
Having their weapons in their eyes.

First from his den rolls forth that load
Of spite and hate, the speckl'd toad,
And from his chaps a foam doth spawn,
Such as the loathed three heads yawn;
Defies his foe with a fell spit,
To wade through death to meet with it;
Then in his self the lymbeck turns,
And his elixir'd poyson urns.
Arachne, once the fear oth' maid
Coelestial, thus unto her pray'd:
Heaven's blew-ey'd daughter, thine own mother!

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Vampires Suck

Cast: Ken Jeong, Matt Lanter, Anneliese van der Pol, Charlie Weber, Chris Riggi

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Sergio

Sergio iz trsta je bil dobro ohranjen dec'ko za svojih 60 let njegov
modri fiat jih je imel pol manj
a jih ni kazal vec' kot 10 z vranje c'rno lasuljo in sonc'nimi oc'ali je
v
temi zgledal kot james bond
edina omembe vredna stvar v njegovem z'ivljenju je bil en moc'en
karambol
Sergio sergio sergio trz'as'ki james bond
Za portoros'ko noc' je povleku iz predala veriz'ico in zlat brac'allet
poleg
ribe z'ensk in vina
si je hotu privos'c'it tudi lep ognjemet ko je s fiatom divjal je iz
auspuha pus'c'al meglo da so tudi
ptic'i mogli pristat a na ostrem nepreglednem ovinku se je zgodil tisti
usodni preobrat
Sergio sergio sergio trz'as'ki james bond
Je spustu gas in potegnu roc'no so gume zacvilile ga odneslo je boc'no
je
eno s'toparko vidu in jo
hotu pobrat je vrgu v brzino zac'el rikverc divjat nasproti je

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