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Poetry - toast
Hey guys,
I have to give the first toast at a wedding on Sunday. I thought I would read a part of a poem (no need to reinvent the wheel). Any suggestions in terms of poets to consider? - Tash |
#2
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Re: Poetry - toast
odb
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#3
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Re: Poetry - toast
Hey Tash,
You can't go wrong with the master, John Keats. One of my favorites is this: [ QUOTE ] WOMAN! when I behold thee flippant, vain, Inconstant, childish, proud, and full of fancies; Without that modest softening that enhances The downcast eye, repentant of the pain That its mild light creates to heal again: E’en then, elate, my spirit leaps, and prances, E’en then my soul with exultation dances For that to love, so long, I’ve dormant lain: But when I see thee meek, and kind, and tender, Heavens! how desperately do I adore Thy winning graces; - to be thy defender I hotly burn - to be a Calidore - A very Red Cross Knight - a stout Leander - Might I be loved by thee like these of yore. Light feet, dark violet eyes, and parted hair; Soft dimpled hands, white neck, and creamy breast, Are things on which the dazzled senses rest Till the fond, fixed eyes, forget they stare. From such fine pictures, heavens! I cannot dare To turn my admiration, though unpossess’d They be of what is worthy, - though not drest In lovely modesty, and virtues rare. Yet these I leave as thoughtless as a lark; These lures I straight forget - e’en ere I dine, Or thrice my palate moisten: but when I mark Such charms with mild intelligences shine, My ear is open like a greedy shark, To catch the tunings of a voice divine. Ah! who can e’er forget so fair a being? Who can forget her half retiring sweets? God! she is like a milk-white lamb that bleats For man’s protection. Surely the All-seeing, Who joys to see us with his gifts agreeing, Will never give him pinions, who intreats Such innocence to ruin, - who vilely cheats A dove-like bosom. In truth there is no freeing One’s thoughts from such a beauty; when I hear A lay that once I saw her hand awake, Her form seems floating palpable, and near; Had I e’er seen her from an arbour take A dewy flower, oft would that hand appear, And o’er my eyes the trembling moisture shake. [/ QUOTE ] |
#4
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Re: Poetry - toast
Annabel Lee
EAP Unless of course you like the couple getting married. |
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Re: Poetry - toast
[ QUOTE ]
Hey Tash, You can't go wrong with the master, mike myers One of my favorites is this: [ QUOTE ] WOMAN! whoa man! whooooooa man! she was a thief you got to belief she stole my heart and my cat [/ QUOTE ] [/ QUOTE ] fyp |
#6
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Re: Poetry - toast
The lanky hank of a she in the inn over there
Nearly killed me for asking the loan of a glass of beer; May the devil grip the whey-faced slut by the hair, And beat bad manners out of her skin for a year. That parboiled ape, with the toughest jaw you will see On virtue's path, and a voice that would rasp the dead, Came roaring and raging the minute she looked at me, And threw me out of the house on the back of my head! If I asked her master he'd give me a cask a day; But she, with the beer at hand, not a gill would arrange! May she marry a ghost and bear him a kitten, and may The High King of Glory permit her to get the mange. -- David O'Bruadair Sis will love it. scrub |
#7
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Re: Poetry - toast
Awesome...now all I have to do is a rough Russian translation. I think that ensures that I forfeit all claims to family jewels, invites to other social gatherings...and possibly the use of last name.
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#8
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Re: Poetry - toast
There once was a bride from Nantucket.
Her ass was the shape of a bucket. The best man exposed her tail. And filled up that pail. Without even letting her suck it. |
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