Helen Of Troy Does Countertop Dancing

The world is full of women who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself if they had the chance. Quit dancing. Get some self-respect and a day job. Right. And minimum wage, and varicose veins, just standing in one place for eight hours behind a glass counter bundled up to the neck, instead of

I Like Canadians

By A Foreigner I like Canadians. They are so unlike Americans. They go home at night. Their cigarettes don't smell bad. Their hats fit. They really believe that they won the war. They don't believe in Literature. They think Art has been exaggerated.

* A Beautiful Rose For A Gentleman *

I love you baby Deep from the core Of my humble heart Life would not be the same Without your voices malingering Into my wanting ears Your smile is my ecstasy Your glance is my victory Winning a cup of life

Just Keep Quiet And Nobody Will Notice

There is one thing that ought to be taught in all the colleges, Which is that people ought to be taught not to go around always making apologies. I don't mean the kind of apologies people make when they run over you or borrow five dollars or step on your feet, Because I think that is sort of sweet; No, I object to one kind of apology alone, Which is when people spend their time and yours apologizing for everything they own. You go to their house for a meal, And they apologize because the anchovies aren't caviar or the partridge is veal;

Goody For Our Side And Your Side Too

Foreigners are people somewhere else, Natives are people at home; If the place you’re at Is your habitat, You’re a foreigner, say in Rome. But the scales of Justice balance true, And tit leads into tat, So the man who’s at home When he stays in Rome Is abroad when he’s where you’re at.

Imitations Of Horace: The First Epistle Of The Second Book

Ne Rubeam, Pingui donatus Munere (Horace, Epistles II.i.267) While you, great patron of mankind, sustain The balanc'd world, and open all the main; Your country, chief, in arms abroad defend, At home, with morals, arts, and laws amend; How shall the Muse, from such a monarch steal An hour, and not defraud the public weal? Edward and Henry, now the boast of fame, And virtuous Alfred, a more sacred name,

Green Fields

By this part of the century few are left who believe in the animals for they are not there in the carved parts of them served on plates and the pleas from the slatted trucks are sounds of shadows that possess no future there is still game for the pleasure of killing and there are pets for the children but the lives that followed courses of their own other than ours and older have been migrating before us some are already far on the way and yet Peter with his gaunt cheeks

Besides This May

977 Besides this May We know There is Another— How fair Our Speculations of the Foreigner! Some know Him whom We knew— Sweet Wonder—

The Odyssey

BOOK I Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy. Many cities did he visit, and many were the nations with whose manners and customs he was acquainted; moreover he suffered much by sea while trying to save his own life and bring his men safely home; but do what he might he could not save his men, for they perished through their own sheer folly in eating the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion; so the god

Don Juan: Canto The Eleventh

I When Bishop Berkeley said "there was no matter," And proved it--'twas no matter what he sald: They say his system 'tis in vain to batter, Too subtle for the airiest human head; And yet who can believe it! I would shatter Gladly all matters down to stone or lead, Or adamant, to find the World a spirit, And wear my head, denying that I wear it.II What a sublime discovery 'twas to make the

Half-Ballad Of Waterval

(Non-commissioned Officers in Charge of Prisoners) When by the labor of my 'ands I've 'elped to pack a transport tight With prisoners for foreign lands, I ain't transported with delight. I know it's only just an' right, But yet it somehow sickens me, For I 'ave learned at Waterval

I Am Me!

I am unique, an irreplaceable human being. The first me and the last. I am God's creature, no one will ever replace me. I'm not wealthy but guess what, i'm happy because God takes care of me. You may hate me, but it makes no difference to my life because You are not my Maker and you were not there when He creates me. I am me, Irreplaceable me,

The Princess (Part 4)

'There sinks the nebulous star we call the Sun, If that hypothesis of theirs be sound' Said Ida; 'let us down and rest;' and we Down from the lean and wrinkled precipices, By every coppice-feathered chasm and cleft, Dropt through the ambrosial gloom to where below No bigger than a glow-worm shone the tent Lamp-lit from the inner. Once she leaned on me, Descending; once or twice she lent her hand, And blissful palpitations in the blood,

Parlez-Vous Francais?

Caesar, the amplifier voice, announces Crime and reparation. In the barber shop Recumbent men attend, while absently The barber doffs the naked face with cream. Caesar proposes, Caesar promises Pride, justice, and the sun Brilliant and strong on everyone, Speeding one hundred miles an hour across the land: Caesar declares the will. The barber firmly Planes the stubble with a steady hand,

Ossian’s Grave

PREHISTORIC MONUMENT NEAR CUSHENDALL IN ANTRIM Steep up in Lubitavish townland stands A ring of great stones like fangs, the shafts of the stones Grown up with thousands of years of gradual turf, The fangs of the stones still biting skyward; and hard Against the stone ring, the oblong enclosure Of an old grave guarded with erect slabs; gray rocks Backed by broken thorn-trees, over the gorge of Glenaan; It is called Ossian's Grave. Ossian rests high then,

Don Juan: Canto The Fourteenth

If from great nature's or our own abyss Of thought we could but snatch a certainty, Perhaps mankind might find the path they miss-- But then 'twould spoil much good philosophy. One system eats another up, and this Much as old Saturn ate his progeny; For when his pious consort gave him stones In lieu of sons, of these he made no bones. But System doth reverse the Titan's breakfast,

An Anthem Of Earth

Proemion. Immeasurable Earth! Through the loud vast and populacy of Heaven, Tempested with gold schools of ponderous orbs, That cleav'st with deep-revolting harmonies Passage perpetual, and behind thee draw'st A furrow sweet, a cometary wake Of trailing music! What large effluence, Not sole the cloudy sighing of thy seas,

Rome - 1 -

History of Old Rome by Theodor Mommsen. Let's begin from its origins. The mortgages did notexist. The wife had her husband and did not belong to the State. The creditor was owner of something. The debitor became owner of that same thing only when had paid his creditor. This way the distrains did not exist as well as the procurers. A foreigner could become guest of a Roman citizen. All the Roman inhabitants wore the same pattern of tunic. The travertine blocks got the sun on the dry calctufe.

The True Born Englishman (Excerpt)

... Thus from a mixture of all kinds began, That het'rogeneous thing, an Englishman: In eager rapes, and furious lust begot, Betwixt a painted Britain and a Scot. Whose gend'ring off-spring quickly learn'd to bow, And yoke their heifers to the Roman plough: From whence a mongrel half-bred race there came, With neither name, nor nation, speech nor fame. In whose hot veins new mixtures quickly ran,

Desesperanto

After Joseph Roth Parce que c'était lui; parce que c'était moi. Montaigne, De L'amitië The dream's forfeit was a night in jail and now the slant light is crepuscular. Papers or not, you are a foreigner whose name is always difficult to spell. You pack your one valise. You ring the bell.