Quotes about may, page 5
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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V. Count Guido Franceschini
Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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I Sell My Soul
“My soul and body for sale “
Offer from fish to a big whale,
When saw a big danger face went pale,
But indeed plain truth and not simple tale,
I can’t grow any more,
Nor can I protect in downpour,
Never faced worst ever this before,
Broken at heart and body lay tore,
I may not offer or even fight,
Find no candle even there no light,
Situation may be worse or even tight,
Worries may be more solution not in sight,
Tough it prove life may prove hard,
Can’t keep it away or off may ward,
Still it may remain, close I may eyes,
Nor it may vanish even I make byes,
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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An idle mind
It is said”Idle mind is devil’s workshop”
You may go on thinking non-stop
It may travel across the globe
Unnecessary thoughts may engulf and make the probe
Any move made in haste results into flop show
You may feel like to take revenge and take vow
It is human tendency to think and adopt
To go in for quick results by showing action very prompt
How many things we would want to execute
We will be offering explanation for the charges to refute
It may go making futile search
There may be no body to come to your rescue and teach
No amount of arguments may satisfy you
You will not find any reason through
It will drag you for many more hours
You will be hitting sixes and fours
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A fortunate one
Lucky you and lucky me
Sitting under shade of the tree
To add one more and make it three
World may look sound and almost free
Nice imagination with wonderful ideas
Trying to woo her with my honest pleas
It was not new but stored in corner of mind
Always searching for match but not to find
I found her anyway as lucky to be called
She had in past many initiatives stalled
I too was not desperate but followed with zeal
She relented and agreed later as it was real
One may not find suitable match at all
He may go on making frantic efforts or several calls
It may come all of sudden at an appointed hour
You may rejoice with joy and role on the floor
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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A notorious kids
“Put up brave front and go ahead”
“Provide good leadership and lead”
“Pick up fast from books you read”
”This is an advise and you must heed”
These are set words coming from the very good teacher
He may be occupying honorable status as good preacher
He may witness overall performance of students and teach
He may supervise and definitely prefer no breach
The children my make hell let loose
They have enough sense for the time to choose
They will find room to create noise
They will shout in class room with one voice
They will notice teacher’s absence
Ugly scene may also take place that was not possible in his presence
The teacher has to rush to tackle the issue
He may have to take stock of situation and review
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poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Amazing Grace
'Live, live with me, and thou shalt see
The pleasures I'll prepare for thee:
What sweets the country can afford
Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board.'
So Robert Herrick's poetry
has written yet his words may be
as nought compared to all that's poured
in soul-song here for my adored.
'Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
Or woods or steepy mountain yield.' -
Though Marlowe's maid as hand and glove
swain fain would fit her heart to move,
his verse is but an empty shield
compared to all I'd have revealed.
'But Time drives flocks from field to fold;
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
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poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Task: Book III. -- The Garden
As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
His devious course uncertain, seeking home;
Or, having long in miry ways been foil’d,
And sore discomfited, from slough to slough
Plunging, and half despairing of escape;
If chance at length he finds a greensward smooth
And faithful to the foot, his spirits rise,
He chirrups brisk his ear-erecting steed,
And winds his way with pleasure and with ease:
So I, designing other themes, and call’d
To adorn the Sofa with eulogium due,
To tell its slumbers, and to paint its dreams,
Have rambled wide. In country, city, seat
Of academic fame (howe’er deserved),
Long held, and scarcely disengaged at last.
But now with pleasant pace a cleanlier road
I mean to tread. I feel myself at large,
Courageous, and refresh’d for future toil,
If toil awaits me, or if dangers new.
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poem by William Cowper
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Canto the Eighth
I
Oh blood and thunder! and oh blood and wounds!
These are but vulgar oaths, as you may deem,
Too gentle reader! and most shocking sounds:
And so they are; yet thus is Glory's dream
Unriddled, and as my true Muse expounds
At present such things, since they are her theme,
So be they her inspirers! Call them Mars,
Bellona, what you will -- they mean but wars.
II
All was prepared -- the fire, the sword, the men
To wield them in their terrible array.
The army, like a lion from his den,
March'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay, --
A human Hydra, issuing from its fen
To breathe destruction on its winding way,
Whose heads were heroes, which cut off in vain
Immediately in others grew again.
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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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