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"unmannerly" poems
"WHAT have I earned for all that work,' I said, 'For all that I have done at my own charge? The daily spite of this unmannerly town, Where who has served the most is most defaned, The reputation of his lifetime lost Between the night and morning. I might have lived, And you know well how great the longing has been, Where every day my footfall Should have lit In the green shadow of Ferrara wall; Or climbed among the images of the past -- The unperturbed and courtly images -- Evening and morning, the steep street of Urbino To where the Duchess and her people talked The stately midnight through until they stood In their great window looking at the dawn; I might have had no friend that could not mix Courtesy and passion into one like those That saw the wicks grow yellow in the dawn; I might have used the one substantial right My trade allows: chosen my company, And chosen what scenery had pleased me best. Thereon my phoenix answered in reproof, "The drunkards, pilferers of public funds, All the dishonest crowd I had driven away, When my luck changed and they dared meet my face, Crawled from obscurity, and set upon me Those I had served and some that I had fed; Yet never have I, now nor any time, Complained of the people.' All I could reply Was: "You, that have not lived in thought but deed, Can have the purity of a natural force, But I, whose virtues are the definitions Of the analytic mind, can neither close The eye of the mind nor keep my tongue from speech.' And yet, because my heart leaped at her words, I was abashed, and now they come to mind After nine years, I sink my head abashed.
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The People
"WHAT have I earned for all that work,' I said, 'For all that I have done at my own charge? The daily spite of this unmannerly town, Where who has served the most is most defaned, The reputation of his lifetime lost Between the night and morning. I might have lived, And you know well how great the longing has been, Where every day my footfall Should have lit In the green shadow of Ferrara wall; Or climbed among the images of the past -- The unperturbed and courtly images -- Evening and morning, the steep street of Urbino To where the Duchess and her people talked The stately midnight through until they stood In their great window looking at the dawn; I might have had no friend that could not mix Courtesy and passion into one like those That saw the wicks grow yellow in the dawn; I might have used the one substantial right My trade allows: chosen my company, And chosen what scenery had pleased me best. Thereon my phoenix answered in reproof, "The drunkards, pilferers of public funds, All the dishonest crowd I had driven away, When my luck changed and they dared meet my face, Crawled from obscurity, and set upon me Those I had served and some that I had fed; Yet never have I, now nor any time, Complained of the people.' All I could reply Was: "You, that have not lived in thought but deed, Can have the purity of a natural force, But I, whose virtues are the definitions Of the analytic mind, can neither close The eye of the mind nor keep my tongue from speech.' And yet, because my heart leaped at her words, I was abashed, and now they come to mind After nine years, I sink my head abashed.
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38
There was an Old Person of Anerley, Whose conduct was strange and unmannerly; He rushed down the Strand With a pig in each hand, But returned in the evening to Anerley.
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There Was An Old Person Of Anerley
Love is for the insane For men who feel they Can build fires underwater For those speaking in tongues I wish to learn the language To slowly climb a mountain To warm myself undersea To find bliss in our unmannerly discourse This wise man knows his foolishness But continues to advise In hopes of one day Following his own teachings
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Sep 12, 2010
Sep 12, 2010 at 7:24 AM UTC
Shakespeare Was Right
Tonight, we find ourselves intertwined In painless design, we of bear flesh Cast onward, searching You don't speak like I You refuse what I say Yet, we continue forward We crown it all Finishing in unmannerly discourse I'll have to pretend That never happened as well Even though you leave me cold And alone to relish in All of the gorgeous things That have come and passed I still love the color of the world At 5 in the morning
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Sep 29, 2010
Sep 29, 2010 at 6:45 AM UTC
Color of the World
strangers are welcome but unmannerly conduct will be met in kind
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Feb 15, 2018
Feb 15, 2018 at 10:53 AM UTC
strangers are welcome