Book I
I sing of men and great machinery,
Of Condoleezza Rice and Cheney,
Of heroes and of holy warfare
That broiled in all the darkest corners
Of this anarchic world, before our Order,
Of faithful ranks arranged in regiment
Who fight for Freedom and our president,
Fearsome Bush, beside him Wolfowitz,
And I sing of steel-breasted Ships,
Of bomber planes and helicopters,
Of death and Terror, and bearded monsters,
How wounded America, against the odds,
Girt metal boots and boldy trod
Upon the tails of the desert demons,
Pre-empting each their devilish schemes,
And, with righteous fist, as was manifest,
Battered Hatred&
Summary: Richardson's Pamela by Europhile, literature
Literature
Summary: Richardson's Pamela
A Summary of Richardson's Pamela
Pamela:
Virtuous
Novel and
Heroine -
Tireless
Writer of
Many a
Lettering,
Beautiful
Servant and,
Furthermore,
Maiden, whos
Thrust into
Terminal
Virginal
Danger when
Death of her
Mistress, the
Late Lady
Bedfordshire,
Places our
Innocent
Lamb before
Lucifer.
Outwardly
Mannerly,
Lord of the
Manor, and
Recently
Iuventius
If I could kiss those honeyed eyes
Perpetually, Iuventius,
Until Id kissed three-hundred-thousand times,
I still would not be satisfied
Till this was proved more plenteous
Than Summers sun-kissed ears of honeyed rye.
What a Woman Tells
Shed rather marry nobody
Says my lady, if not me
If Jupiter himself now even sought her.
She says but what a woman tells
Her lover, singed by womans spell,
Is better carved in wind and swelling waters.
How Many Kisses?
You ask how many kisses
Of yours, dear, are sufficient
For me (to have a number to exceed).
How many grains of sand
Coat the spice-producing land
Cyrene, between those old and sultry sites -
The hot Oracle of Jove
And blest Battus abode?
Or how many are the stars of silent night
Which spy mens stealthy lusts?
- Roughly this will be enough
Osculation for my senseless lips to bite.
So the curious cannot count,
Nor an evil tongue denounce
The number of our kisses in its wishes.
Narcissism
Cruel glass obstructs my only lover,
Windowless unlike most others.
Our eyes meet in calm symmetry,
A purple tongue extends to me.
For tongues to touch we must imagine,
The glass is frosted with our passion.
If those lips could reach one atom nearer...
Im left with kiss marks on the mirror.
Sorry Lil' Lemming
Sorry lil' lemming,
I'm unable to protect ye-
Youve got to blow.
Ill see you later
As a crater (oh no!),
And a shower of confetti.
The Explosion
All seemed bleak. I seemed alone
In formless grey, like fading foam
Nothing split the sea from stone.
I was flanked by brick and glass
Fizzing with those eyeless masks
That follow streets, and find no path.
Inside, I dripped. My throat was hoarse
From so much sighing. Like flogged corpses,
My limbs bobbed meekly to their course
Until I dropped the whip, and stopped.
I leant against a knot of rocks
And through my lower back there shot
A branch of frozen leaves. They crawled
Like icy vipers, spiders gnawed
In hornet anger at my warmth.
My sewers froze, then dripped, then rushed,
And somewhere, bubbling bath spr
Book I
I sing of men and great machinery,
Of Condoleezza Rice and Cheney,
Of heroes and of holy warfare
That broiled in all the darkest corners
Of this anarchic world, before our Order,
Of faithful ranks arranged in regiment
Who fight for Freedom and our president,
Fearsome Bush, beside him Wolfowitz,
And I sing of steel-breasted Ships,
Of bomber planes and helicopters,
Of death and Terror, and bearded monsters,
How wounded America, against the odds,
Girt metal boots and boldy trod
Upon the tails of the desert demons,
Pre-empting each their devilish schemes,
And, with righteous fist, as was manifest,
Battered Hatred&
Summary: Richardson's Pamela by Europhile, literature
Literature
Summary: Richardson's Pamela
A Summary of Richardson's Pamela
Pamela:
Virtuous
Novel and
Heroine -
Tireless
Writer of
Many a
Lettering,
Beautiful
Servant and,
Furthermore,
Maiden, whos
Thrust into
Terminal
Virginal
Danger when
Death of her
Mistress, the
Late Lady
Bedfordshire,
Places our
Innocent
Lamb before
Lucifer.
Outwardly
Mannerly,
Lord of the
Manor, and
Recently
Iuventius
If I could kiss those honeyed eyes
Perpetually, Iuventius,
Until Id kissed three-hundred-thousand times,
I still would not be satisfied
Till this was proved more plenteous
Than Summers sun-kissed ears of honeyed rye.
What a Woman Tells
Shed rather marry nobody
Says my lady, if not me
If Jupiter himself now even sought her.
She says but what a woman tells
Her lover, singed by womans spell,
Is better carved in wind and swelling waters.
How Many Kisses?
You ask how many kisses
Of yours, dear, are sufficient
For me (to have a number to exceed).
How many grains of sand
Coat the spice-producing land
Cyrene, between those old and sultry sites -
The hot Oracle of Jove
And blest Battus abode?
Or how many are the stars of silent night
Which spy mens stealthy lusts?
- Roughly this will be enough
Osculation for my senseless lips to bite.
So the curious cannot count,
Nor an evil tongue denounce
The number of our kisses in its wishes.
Narcissism
Cruel glass obstructs my only lover,
Windowless unlike most others.
Our eyes meet in calm symmetry,
A purple tongue extends to me.
For tongues to touch we must imagine,
The glass is frosted with our passion.
If those lips could reach one atom nearer...
Im left with kiss marks on the mirror.
Sorry Lil' Lemming
Sorry lil' lemming,
I'm unable to protect ye-
Youve got to blow.
Ill see you later
As a crater (oh no!),
And a shower of confetti.
The Explosion
All seemed bleak. I seemed alone
In formless grey, like fading foam
Nothing split the sea from stone.
I was flanked by brick and glass
Fizzing with those eyeless masks
That follow streets, and find no path.
Inside, I dripped. My throat was hoarse
From so much sighing. Like flogged corpses,
My limbs bobbed meekly to their course
Until I dropped the whip, and stopped.
I leant against a knot of rocks
And through my lower back there shot
A branch of frozen leaves. They crawled
Like icy vipers, spiders gnawed
In hornet anger at my warmth.
My sewers froze, then dripped, then rushed,
And somewhere, bubbling bath spr
Acquainted with the Night
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
O luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
Robert Frost (1923)