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The Cellar Door

By the old tavern door on the causey there lay
A hogshead of stingo just rolled from a dray,
And there stood the blacksmith awaiting a drop
As dry as the cinders that lay in his shop;
And there stood the cobbler as dry as a bun,
Almost crackt like a bucket when left in the sun.
He'd whetted his knife upon pendil and hone
Till he'd not got a spittle to moisten the stone;
So ere he could work--though he'd lost the whole day--
He must wait the new broach and bemoisten his clay.

The cellar was empty, each barrel was drained
To its dregs--and Sir John like a rebel remained
In the street--for removal too powerful and large
For two or three topers to take into charge.
Odd zooks, said a gipsey, with bellows to mend,
Had I strength I would just be for helping a friend
To walk on his legs: but a child in the street
Had as much power as he to put John on his feet.
Then up came the blacksmith: Sir Barley, said he,

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poem by John Clare
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America

NOR War nor Peace, forever, old and young,
But Strength my theme, whose song is yet unsung,
The People's Strength, the deep alluring dream
Of truths that seethe below the truths that seem.

The buried ruins of dead empires seek,
Of Indian, Syrian, Persian, Roman, Greek:
From shattered capital and frieze upraise
The stately structures of their golden days:
Their laws occult, their priests and prophets ask.,
Their altars search, their oracles unmask,
Their parable from birth to burial see,
The acorn germ, the growth, the dense-leafed tree,
A world of riant life; the sudden day
When like a new strange glory, shone decay,
A golden glow amid the green; the change
From branch to branch at life's receding range,
Till nothing stands of towering strength and pride
Save naked trunk and arms whose veins are dried;
And these, too, crumble till no signs remain

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poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Panthea

NAY, let us walk from fire unto fire,
From passionate pain to deadlier delight,--
I am too young to live without desire,
Too young art thou to waste this summer night
Asking those idle questions which of old
Man sought of seer and oracle, and no reply was told.

For, sweet, to feel is better than to know,
And wisdom is a childless heritage,
One pulse of passion--youth's first fiery glow,--
Are worth the hoarded proverbs of the sage:
Vex not thy soul with dead philosophy,
Have we not lips to kiss with, hearts to love, and eyes to see!

Dost thou not hear the murmuring nightingale
Like water bubbling from a silver jar,
So soft she sings the envious moon is pale,
That high in heaven she is hung so far
She cannot hear that love-enraptured tune,--
Mark how she wreathes each horn with mist, yon late and labouring

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poem by Oscar Wilde
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Lisa Sez

(berry/buck/mills/stipe)
Too, too, took her so long
I was only having fun
I guess Im really hung
I guess youd better run
Thats what lisa said
While you running all over town
Why dont you settle down
I told her we were just friends
She believed it till the end
(chorus)
Thats what lisa said
Thats what she said
Shes a (cherry? ) now
She put me on her
She put you on trial
No, Im in her
Too, too, took her so long
I was only having fun
I guess Im not so hung

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song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hymn on the Morning of Christ's Nativity

IT was the Winter wilde,
While the Heav'n-born-childe,
   All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies;
Nature in aw to him
Had doff't her gawdy trim,
   With her great Master so to sympathize:
It was no season then for her
To wanton with the Sun her lusty Paramour.

Only with speeches fair
She woo's the gentle Air
   To hide her guilty front with innocent Snow,
And on her naked shame,
Pollute with sinfull blame,
   The Saintly Vail of Maiden white to throw,
Confounded, that her Makers eyes
Should look so neer upon her foul deformities.

But he her fears to cease,
Sent down the meek-eyd Peace,

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poem by John Milton
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Hung Up On Your Love

By lamont dozier
I was ready to take a chance,
I found myself a new romance.
Then you call that same old night,
Always change my mind.
Oh no, not again.
Oh no, not again.
Just when I thought it was over, you come back
And Im hung up on your love again.
Just when I thought I was free, you come back.
Now Im hung up on your love again.
Just as I was doing good,
You come back, just to prove you could.
Things will always be the same,
With me the victim of the game.
Oh no, not again.
Oh no, not again.
Chorus
Chorus
Chorus

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song performed by Eric Clapton
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The Missionary - Canto Sixth

The second moon had now begun to wane,
Since bold Valdivia left the southern plain;
Goal of his labours, Penco's port and bay,
Far gleaming to the summer sunset lay.
The wayworn veteran, who had slowly passed
Through trackless woods, or o'er savannahs vast,
With hope impatient sees the city spires
Gild the horizon, like ascending fires.
Now well-known sounds salute him, as more near
The citadel and battlements appear;
The approaching trumpets ring at intervals;
The trumpet answers from the rampart walls,
Where many a maiden casts an anxious eye,
Some long-lost object of her love to espy,
Or watches, as the evening light illumes
The points of lances, or the passing plumes.
The grating drawbridge and the portal-arch,
Now echo to the long battalion's march;
Whilst every eye some friend remembered greets,
Amid the gazing crowd that throngs the streets.

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poem by William Lisle Bowles
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Toussaint L’Ouverture

'T WAS night. The tranquil moonlight smile
With which Heaven dreams of Earth, shed down
Its beauty on the Indian isle, —
On broad green field and white-walled town;
And inland waste of rock and wood,
In searching sunshine, wild and rude,
Rose, mellowed through the silver gleam,
Soft as the landscape of a dream.
All motionless and dewy wet,
Tree, vine, and flower in shadow met:
The myrtle with its snowy bloom,
Crossing the nightshade's solemn gloom, —
The white cecropia's silver rind
Relieved by deeper green behind,
The orange with its fruit of gold,
The lithe paullinia's verdant fold,
The passion-flower, with symbol holy,
Twining its tendrils long and lowly,
The rhexias dark, and cassia tall,
And proudly rising over all,

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poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Omens Of Love

To love
I have lost
All that is self
My memories have made the storm
Now subsides casting my fate
Inside your soul
And these eyes
Are mine no more
To seek
I pour myself in your vigin veins
Now all that I see
Is through a passions pain
Cause Im all hung up over you
Im losing myself
Loving you
Your wine is the blood
That drunkens my heart
With omens of love and now
That I am you
Woman I fear that youre not i

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song performed by Gino Vanelli
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Ballad Of A Hard Man

Ive been mixed up, cut up so sit down and shut up
cause Im a hard man
I was hung up, strung out but I cant take no more junk
Even if you can
It will beat ya cheat ya
Deceit ya, defeat ya
No rocker, bopper, show stealin teeny bopper
Gonna get a thing from me
No fat, black, back scratchin pussy cat
Gonna get her claws on me
Well they got a scheme to sell you kids
The silver screens and glossy magazines
Better hold back, good times, strung out, hung up
Strong out, picked on, ripped off, kicked out
Spit on, set up, ripped off, locked up, sent down
Maybe youre as hard as I am
Just blow me away

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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