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author | Theo de Raadt <deraadt@cvs.openbsd.org> | 1995-10-18 08:53:40 +0000 |
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committer | Theo de Raadt <deraadt@cvs.openbsd.org> | 1995-10-18 08:53:40 +0000 |
commit | d6583bb2a13f329cf0332ef2570eb8bb8fc0e39c (patch) | |
tree | ece253b876159b39c620e62b6c9b1174642e070e /games/quiz/datfiles/poetry |
initial import of NetBSD tree
Diffstat (limited to 'games/quiz/datfiles/poetry')
-rw-r--r-- | games/quiz/datfiles/poetry | 184 |
1 files changed, 184 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/games/quiz/datfiles/poetry b/games/quiz/datfiles/poetry new file mode 100644 index 00000000000..f4c07d698c5 --- /dev/null +++ b/games/quiz/datfiles/poetry @@ -0,0 +1,184 @@ +Come live with me and be my love:\ +And we will all the pleasures prove:\ +{The }Passionate Shepherd{ to his Love}:\ +{Christopher }Marlowe +Shall I compare thee to a summer's day{?}:\ +Thou art more lovely and more temperate:\ +Sonnet 18:\ +{William }Shakespeare +Fine knacks for ladies, cheap, choice, brave, and new!:\ +Good pennyworths{! }but money cannot move:\ +Fine Knacks{ for Ladies}:\ +{John }Dowland +My mind to me a kingdom is:\ +Such perfect joy therein I find:\ +My Mind to Me a Kingdom Is:\ +{Sir }{Edward }Dyer +Underneath this stone doth lie:\ +As much beauty as could die:\ +Epitaph on Elizabeth{,} {L. H.}:\ +{Ben }Jonson +Death be not proud, though some have called thee:\ +Mighty and dreadful{,} for thou art not so:\ +{Holy }Sonnet{s}{ 10}:\ +{John }Donne +Gather ye rose-buds while ye may:\ +Old Time is still a-flying:\ +To the Virgins{,} {To Make Much of Time}:\ +{Robert }Herrick +Why so pale and wan, fond lover?:\ +Prithee{,} why so pale{?}:\ +Song:\ +{Sir }{John }Suckling +Stone walls do not a prison make:\ +Nor iron bars a cage:\ +To Althea{,} From Prison:\ +{Richard }Lovelace +I could not love thee (Dear) so much,:\ +Lov['|e]d I not hono{u}r more:\ +To Lucasta{, Going to the Wars}:\ +{Richard }Lovelace +I saw Eternity the other night:\ +Like a great ring of pure and endless light:\ +{The }World:\ +{Henry }Vaughan +Come and trip it as you go,:\ +On the light fantastic toe:\ +L'Allegro:\ +{John }Milton +When I consider how my light is spent:\ +Ere half my days in this dark world and wide:\ +On His Blindness|When I Consider:\ +{John }Milton +The grave's a fine and private place{,}:\ +But none{,} I think{,} do there embrace{.}:\ +To His Coy Mistress:\ +{Andrew }Marvel +Great wits are sure to madness near allied:\ +And thin partitions do their bounds divide:\ +Absalom and Achitophel|Absalom:\ +{John }Dryden +A little learning is a dangerous thing{;}:\ +Drink deep{,} or taste not the Pierian spring{.}:\ +{An }Essay on Criticism|{On }Criticism:\ +{Alexander }Pope +The curfew tolls the knell of parting day{,}:\ +The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea:\ +Elegy{ Written in a Country Church{-| }Yard:\ +{Thomas }Gray +The best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft a-gley{,}:\ +An{'|d} lea{'|v}e us nought but grief an{'|d} pain for promised joy{.}:\ +To a Mouse:\ +{Robert }Burns +Tiger! tiger! burning bright!:\ +In the forests of the night:\ +{The }Tiger:\ +{William }Blake +My heart leaps up when I behold:\ +A rainbow in the sky:\ +My Heart Leaps Up:\ +{William }Wordsworth +The world is too much with us; late and soon{,}:\ +Getting and spending{,} we lay waste our powers:\ +{The }World is Too Much With Us|Sonnet:\ +{William }Wordsworth +A sadder and a wiser man{,}:\ +He rose the morrow morn:\ +{The }{Rime of }{The }Ancient Mariner:\ +{Samuel }{Taylor }Coleridge +In Xanadu did Kubla Khan:\ +A stately pleasure{-| }dome decree:\ +Kubla Khan:\ +{Samuel }{Taylor }Coleridge +She walks in beauty, like the night:\ +Of cloudless climes and starry skies:\ +She Walks in Beauty:\ +{George Gordon, }{Lord }Byron +I want a hero- an uncommon want{,}:\ +When every year and month sends forth a new one:\ +Don Juan{ Canto I}:\ +{George Gordon, }{Lord }Byron +A thing of beauty is a joy forever.:\ +Its loveliness increases{;|.} {it will never/Pass into nothingness}:\ +Endymion{ Book I}:\ +{John }Keats +Matched with an aged wife, I mete and dole:\ +Unequal laws unto a savage race:\ +Ulysses:\ +{Alfred{,} }{Lord }Tennyson +He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force{,}:\ +Something better than his dog{,} a little dearer than his horse:\ +Locksley Hall:\ +{Alfred{,} }{Lord }Tennyson +'Tis better to have loved and lost:\ +Than never to have loved at all:\ +{In }Memoriam{ A. H. H.}:\ +{Alfred{,} }{Lord }Tennyson +Kind hearts are more than coronets,:\ +And simple faith than Norman blood{.}:\ +Lady Clara Vere de Vere:\ +{Alfred{,} }{Lord }Tennyson +Oh, to be in England:\ +Now that April's there:\ +Home{-| }Thoughts{,} From Abroad:\ +{Robert }Browning +Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp{,}:\ +Or what's a heaven for{?}:\ +Andrea Del Sarto:\ +{Robert }Browning +How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.:\ +I love thee to the depth and breadth and height:\ +Sonnet{s} {From the Portuguese}{ 43}:\ +{Elizabeth }{Barrett }Browning +A Book of Verses underneath the Bough{,}:\ +A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread{-|,| }and Thou:\ +{The }Rubaiyat{ of Omar Khayyam}{ 12}:\ +{Edward }Fitzgerald +The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,:\ +Moves on{\:|,|.} nor all your Piety nor Wit:\ +{The }Rubaiyat{ of Omar Khayyam}{ 71}:\ +{Edward }Fitzgerald +Ah Love! could you and I with Him conspire:\ +To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire:\ +{The }Rubaiyat{ of Omar Khayyam}{ 99}:\ +{Edward }Fitzgerald +Remember me when I am gone away,:\ +Gone far away into the silent land:\ +Remember:\ +{Christina }Rossetti +Home is the sailor, home from the sea,:\ +And the hunter home from the hill:\ +Requiem:\ +{Robert }{Louis }Stevenson +I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;:\ +I fled Him, down the arches of the years:\ +{The }Hound of Heaven:\ +{Francis }Thompson +So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan;:\ +You're a {pore|poor} benighted {'|h}eathen but a first class fightin{'|g} man:\ +Fuzzy{-| }Wuzzy:\ +{Rudyard }Kipling +Morns abed and daylight slumber:\ +Were not meant for man alive:\ +Reveille:\ +{A{.}{ }E{.}{ }}Houseman +I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,:\ +And a small cabin build there{,} of clay and wattles made:\ +{The }{Lake Isle of }Innisfree:\ +{William }{Butler }Yeats +I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,:\ +And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by:\ +Sea{-| }Fever:\ +{John }Masefield +April is the cruelest month, breeding:\ +Lilacs out of the dead land:\ +{The }Waste{ }Land:\ +{T{.}{ }S{.}{ }}Eliot +Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs:\ +About the little house and happy as the grass was green:\ +Fern Hill:\ +{Dylan }Thomas +Of Man's first disobedience, and the fruit:\ +Of that forbidden tree{,} whose mortal taste:\ +Paradise Lost:\ +{John }Milton |