Quotes about hire, page 6
Spring
Spring, and the wispy clouds that fade away
And draw the ecstatic soul in pain to aspire
In maddening flight through heaven's thin flood of fire
To melt in rapture at the heart of day,
The powers of the world that promise and betray
Have dragged me from you in their icy ire
And set me spinning at their loom, for hire,
The shroud in which my senses must decay.
For hire I give myself, and cannot tell
If the blind force that flings me in the chest
Have power or will to pay the bargained price,
Yet for a word of love I gladly quell
The quivering hope of not inactive rest
And very humbly make my sacrifice.
poem by John Le Gay Brereton
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I Must Have Said Something Wrong?
What you're saying to me makes no sense at all.
My utility company hired your telehone center,
To call my home to convince me,
I can save money by using a discounted service...
That will provide me a lower rate on my electric bill?
There is only one thing that troubles me about this.
Why would they hire your company,
Which is located on the West Coast.
And I live on the East Coast?
When all they could have done,
Is not hire you at all to save them on phone calls...
With an additional lowering of my bill!
Plus...
Those I know that have been laid off,
Because of the lack of jobs...
Would love to get paid for just a walk to my home,
Announcing the good news...
That the local utility offers because of their concern.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To An Insolent Attorney
So, Hall McAllister, you'll not be warned
My protest slighted, admonition scorned!
To save your scoundrel client from a cell
As loth to swallow him as he to swell
Its sum of meals insurgent (it decries
All wars intestinal with meats that rise)
You turn your scurril tongue against the press
And damn the agency you ought to bless.
Had not the press with all its hundred eyes
Discerned the wolf beneath the sheep's disguise
And raised the cry upon him, he to-day
Would lack your company, and you would lack his pay.
Talk not of 'hire' and consciences for sale
You whose profession 'tis to threaten, rail,
Calumniate and libel at the will
Of any villain who can pay the bill
You whose most honest dollars all were got
By saying for a fee 'the thing that's not!'
To you 'tis one, to challenge or defend;
[...] Read more
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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Edom O'Gordon
It fell about the Martinmas,
When the wind blew shrill and cauld,
Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,
'We maun draw to a hauld.
'And whatna hauld sall we draw to,
My merry men and me?
We will gae to the house of the Rodes,
To see that fair ladye.'
The lady stood on her castle wa',
Beheld baith dale and down;
There she was aware of a host of men
Came riding towards the town.
'O see ye not, my merry men a',
O see ye not what I see?
Methinks I see a host of men;
I marvel who they be.'
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous
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Edom O'Gordon
It fell about the Martinmas,
When the wind blew shrill and cauld,
Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,
'We maun draw to a hauld.
'And whatna hauld sall we draw to,
My merry men and me?
We will gae to the house of the Rodes,
To see that fair ladye.'
The lady stood on her castle wa',
Beheld baith dale and down;
There she was aware of a host of men
Came riding towards the town.
'O see ye not, my merry men a',
O see ye not what I see?
Methinks I see a host of men;
I marvel who they be.'
She ween'd it had been her lovely lord,
As he cam' riding hame;
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Edom O' Gordon
It fell about the Martinmas,
Quhen the wind blew shril and cauld,
Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,
'We maun draw to a hauld.
'And quhat a hauld sall we draw till,
My mirry men and me?
We wul gae to the house o' the Rodes,
To see that fair ladie.'
The lady stude on hir castle wa',
Beheld baith dale and down,
There she was ware of a host of men,
Cum ryding towards the toun.
'O see ze nat, my mirry men a'?
O see ze nat quhat I see?
Methinks I see a host of men:
I marveil quha they be.'
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Edom O' Gordon
It fell about the Martinmas,
When the wind blew shrill and cauld,
Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,--
'We maun draw to a hald.
'And whatna hald shall we draw to,
My merry men and me?
We will gae straight to Towie house,
To see that fair ladye.'
[The ladye stood on her castle wall,
Beheld baith dale and down;
There she was 'ware of a host of men
Came riding towards the town.
'Oh, see ye not, my merry men all,
Oh, see ye not what I see?
Methinks I see a host of men;
I marvel who they be.'
[...] Read more
poem by Andrew Lang
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Edom o' Gordon
IT fell about the Martinmas,
When the wind blew shrill and cauld,
Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,
'We maun draw to a hauld.
'And what a hauld sall we draw to,
My merry men and me?
We will gae to the house o' the Rodes,
To see that fair ladye.'
The lady stood on her castle wa',
Beheld baith dale and down;
There she was ware of a host of men
Cam riding towards the town.
'O see ye not, my merry men a',
O see ye not what I see?
Methinks I see a host of men;
I marvel wha they be.'
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous
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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 08
Thus yrobed in russet I romed aboute
Al a somer seson for to seke Dowel,
And frayned ful ofte of folk that I mette
If any wight wiste wher Dowel was at inne,
And what man he myghte be of many man I asked.
Was nevere wight as I wente that me wisse kouthe
Where this leode lenged, lasse ne moore -
Til it bifel on a Friday two freres I mette,
Maistres of the Menours, men of grete witte.
I hailsed hem hendely, as I hadde ylerned,
And preide hem, pur churite, er thei passed ferther,
If they knewe any contree or costes [aboute]
Where that Dowel dwelieth - 'Dooth me to witene;
For [ye] be men of this moolde that moost wide walken,
And knowen contrees and courtes and many kynnes places -
Bothe princes paleises and povere mennes cotes,
And Dowel and Do-yvele, wher thei dwelle bothe.'
'[Marie!]', quod the Menours, ' [amonges us he dwelleth],
And evere hath, as I hope, and evere shal herafter.'
'Contra!' quod I as a clerc, and comsed to disputen,
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poem by William Langland
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Pilgrimage In Search Of Do-Well
Thus y-robed in russet . romed I aboute
Al in a somer seson . for to seke Do-wel;
And frayned full ofte . of folk that I mette
If any wight wiste . wher Do-wel was at inne;
And what man he myghte be . of many man I asked.
Was nevere wight, as I wente . that me wisse kouthe
Where this leode lenged, . lasse ne moore.
Til it bifel on a Friday . two freres I mette
Maisters of the Menours . men of grete witte.
I hailsed them hendely, . as I hadde y-lerned.
And preede them par charite, . er thei passed ferther,
If thei knew any contree . or costes as thei wente,
'Where that Do-wel dwelleth . dooth me to witene'.
For thei be men of this moolde . that moost wide walken,
And knowen contrees and courtes, . and many kynnes places,
Bothe princes paleises . and povere mennes cotes,
And Do-wel and Do-yvele . where thei dwelle bothe.
'Amonges us' quod the Menours, . 'that man is dwellynge,
And evere hath as I hope, . and evere shal herafter.'
'_Contra_', quod I as a clerc, . and comsed to disputen,
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poem by William Langland
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