Quotes about The hunt, page 4
The Demons You Have Liked
Brace yourselves and close your eyes
Close your eyes or I will
Never leave your summertown
Your precious heaven is burning down, oh yeah
I will come and hunt your lives
You're wanted by a million tribes
And don't you think that I wouldn't try
'cause the further you will fall towards
the demons you have liked
walk away from the pain
leave before I loose my mind
there's no time, no time to hide
your precious heaven is burning down
I will come and hunt your lives
You're wanted by a million tribes
And don't you think that I wouldn't try
'cause the further you will fall towards
the demons you have liked
I would die for this
'cause I know I will not forgive (not this time)
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song performed by Zornik
Added by Lucian Velea
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After The Fox
Who is the fox - I am the fox
Who are you - I am me
Who is me - Me is a thief
You'll bring your poor, poor mother grief
So after the fox, after the fox
Off to the hunt with chains and locks
So after the fox, after the fox
Someone is always chasing after the fox
Where is the gold - It's on the truck
Where's the truck - I won't tell
You must tell - Then I will lie
You'll make your poor, poor sister cry
So after the fox, after the fox
Off to the hunt with chains and locks
So after the fox, after the fox
Someone is always chasing after the fox
Why do you steal - So I'll be rich
Why not work - Work is hard
You'll be caught - I never fail
All little crooks wind up in jail - Not me not me
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song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sarangadhara - Part I
The labouring dawn gave out the child of light
Whose infant became played O'er the river's breast
And woke the bees asleep in lotus bowers,
While from Godavary's bank in merry whirls
A thousand pigeons starred the morning sky.
"Mine that, that farthest speck," one cries; "And mine
Is out of sight," another; but a third,
"Mine surely wheels the best"; and many so
Scanned with their weary eyes, like flying hopes
Their favourite birds. The prince at last as if
He said, "let all that be, now see now mine
Doth wheel," with one warm kiss left his. At once
Rose over the air one deafening cheer; all eyes
Were up, when lo ! no flight, no merry whirl,
The frightened bird rushed onward as if mad
And perched himself upon the palace heights.
The prince, concerned, his min'ster comrade called,
And said, "Didst thou not mark my pigeon perch
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poem by Gurajada Apparao (1883)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Kill Again
Lurking in the dismal fog
Hungry for your blood
Seeking harmless victims
Satisfy my needs
Schizophrenic lunatic
Uncontrolled desire
Rape and ravage lady fair
Pledged to die
No apparent motive
Just kill and kill again
Survive my brutal thrashing
I'll hunt you till the end
My life's a constant battle
The rage of many men
Homicidal maniac...
Trapped in mortal solitude
Lift the gleaming blade
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song performed by Slayer from Hell Awaits
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Pump
Get ready
Hah!
We got blind compassion
Don't need discussion
Think you know just what I mean
Nowhere's a smokin'
While the rules are broken
Had to be seen to be believed
As a preacher of lust
You gotta do what you must
Practice what you preach
If you got an invitation
We'll change the location
Gotta have room to breathe
I want love, huh!
Whole lotta love, tons!
Give me love
Our love
Well let's pump her, pump her
Strike it rich what you're dreamin' of
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song performed by Quiet Riot
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Lady Of La Garaye - Part I
ON Dinan's walls the morning sunlight plays,
Gilds the stern fortress with a crown of rays,
Shines on the children's heads that troop to school,
Turns into beryl-brown the forest pool,
Sends diamond sparkles over gushing springs,
And showers down glory on the simplest things.
And many a young seigneur and damsel bold
See with delight those beams of reddening gold,
For they are bid to join the hunt to-day
By Claud Marot, the lord of La Garaye;
And merry is it in his spacious halls;
Cheerful the host, whatever sport befalls,
Cheerful and courteous, full of manly grace,
His heart's frank welcome written in his face;
So eager, that his pleasure never cloys,
But glad to share whatever he enjoys;
Rich, liberal, gaily dressed, of noble mien,
Clear eyes,--full curving mouth,--and brow serene;
Master of speech in many a foreign tongue,
And famed for feats of arms, although so young;
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poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Added by Poetry Lover
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Don Juan: Canto The Thirteenth
I now mean to be serious;--it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime,
And critically held as deleterious:
Besides, the sad's a source of the sublime,
Although when long a little apt to weary us;
And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn,
As an old temple dwindled to a column.
The Lady Adeline Amundeville
('Tis an old Norman name, and to be found
In pedigrees, by those who wander still
Along the last fields of that Gothic ground)
Was high-born, wealthy by her father's will,
And beauteous, even where beauties most abound,
In Britain - which of course true patriots find
The goodliest soil of body and of mind.
I'll not gainsay them; it is not my cue;
I'll leave them to their taste, no doubt the best:
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Canto the Thirteenth
I
I now mean to be serious; -- it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime,
And critically held as deleterious:
Besides, the sad's a source of the sublime,
Although when long a little apt to weary us;
And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn,
As an old temple dwindled to a column.
II
The Lady Adeline Amundeville
('T is an old Norman name, and to be found
In pedigrees, by those who wander still
Along the last fields of that Gothic ground)
Was high-born, wealthy by her father's will,
And beauteous, even where beauties most abound,
In Britain -- which of course true patriots find
The goodliest soil of body and of mind.
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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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English Bards and Scotch Reviewers: A Satire
'I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew!
Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers'~Shakespeare
'Such shameless bards we have; and yet 'tis true,
There are as mad, abandon'd critics too,'~Pope.
Still must I hear? -- shall hoarse Fitzgerald bawl
His creaking couplets in a tavern hall,
And I not sing, lest, haply, Scotch reviews
Should dub me scribbler, and denounce my muse?
Prepare for rhyme -- I'll publish, right or wrong:
Fools are my theme, let satire be my song.
O nature's noblest gift -- my grey goose-quill!
Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will,
Torn from thy parent bird to form a pen,
That mighty instrument of little men!
The pen! foredoom'd to aid the mental throes
Of brains that labour, big with verse or prose,
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Venus and Adonis
Even as the sun with purple-colour'd face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis tried him to the chase;
Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn;
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him.
'Thrice fairer than myself,' thus she began,
'The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red than doves or roses are;
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.
'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses;
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses:
'And yet not cloy thy lips with loath'd satiety,
But rather famish them amid their plenty,
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poem by William Shakespeare (1593)
Added by Dan Costinaş
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