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Columbus; and Opportunity
Posted by: StephenFryer (---.l1.c1.dsl.pol.co.uk)
Date: May 07, 2004 08:31PM

Author: TH (co-colspgs-4-u1-b5-248.clspco.adelphia.net)
Date: 05-07-04 15:33

I'm looking for a poem entitled "Columbus" It goes:

In fourteen hundred and ninty two,
Someone sailed the ocean blue.
Someone borrowed the fare in Spain
For a business trip on the bounding main.



I am also looking for the words to the poem "Opportunity"

"This I beheld or dreamed it in a dream."

It's about the prince who finds the broken sword of the craven and wins the battle.

Thank you.


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Re: Columbus; and Opportunity
Posted by: ilza (---.162.245.24.user.ajato.com.br)
Date: May 07, 2004 08:34PM

Look What You Did, Cristopher!

In fourteen hundred and ninety-two,
Someone sailed the ocean blue.
Somebody borrowed the fare in Spain
For a business trip on the bounding main,
And to prove to the people, by actual test,
You could get to the East by sailing West.
Somebody said, Sail on! Sail on!
And studied China and China's lingo,
And cried from the bow, There's China now!
And promptly bumped into San Domingo.
Somebody murmured, Oh dear, oh dear!
I've discovered the Western Hemisphere.

And that, you may think, my friends, was that.
But it wasn't. Not by a fireman's hat.
Well enough wasn't left alone,
And Columbus was only a cornerstone.
There came the Spaniards,
There came the Greeks,
There came the Pilgrims in leather breeks.
There came the Dutch,
And the Poles and Swedes,
The Persians, too,
And perhaps the Medes,
The Letts, the Lapps, and the Lithuanians,
Regal Russians, and ripe Roumanians.
There came the French
And there came the Finns,
And the Japanese
With their formal grins.
The Tartars came,
And the Terrible Turks -
In a word, humanity shot the works.
And the country that should have been Cathay
Decided to be
The U.S.A.

And that, you may think, my friends, was that.
But it wasn't. Not by a fireman's hat.
Christopher C. was the cornerstone,
And well enough wasn't left alone.
For those who followed
When he was through,
They burned to discover something, too.
Somebody, bored with rural scenery,
Went to work and invented machinery,
While a couple of other mental giants
Got together
And thought up Science.
Platinum blondes
(They were once peroxide),
Peruvian bonds
And carbon monoxide,
Tax evaders
And Vitamin A,
Vice crusaders,
And tattletale gray -
These, with many another phobia,
We owe to that famous Twelfth of Octobia.
O misery, misery, mumble and moan!
Someone invented the telephone,
And interrupted a nation's slumbers,
Ringing wrong but similar numbers.
Someone devised the silver screen
And the intimate Hollywood magazine,
And life is a Hades
Of clicking cameras,
And foreign ladies
Behaving amorous.
Gags have erased
Amusing dialog,
As gas has replaced
The crackling firelog.
All that glitters is sold as gold,
And our daily diet grows odder and odder,
And breakfast foods are dusty and cold -
It's a wise child
That knows its fodder.
Someone invented the automobile,
And good Americans took the wheel
To view American rivers and rills
And justly famous forests and hills -
But someone equally enterprising
Had invented billboard advertising.
You linger at home
In dark despair,
And wistfully try the electric air.
You hope against hope for a quiz imperial,
And what do they give you?
A doctor serial.
Oh, Columbus was only a cornerstone,
And well enough wasn't left alone,
For the Inquisition was less tyrannical
Than the iron rules of an age mechanical,
Which, because of an error in '92,
Are clamped like corsets on me and you,
While Children of Nature we'd be today
If San Domingo
Had been Cathay.

And that, you may think, my friends, is that.
But it isn't - not by a fireman's hat.
The American people,
With grins jocose,
Always survive the fatal dose.
And though our systems are slightly wobbly,
We'll fool the doctor this time, probly.

( this was emailed to my by his daughter ... )


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Opportunity
Posted by: ilza (---.162.245.24.user.ajato.com.br)
Date: May 07, 2004 08:36PM

THE PEN AND THE SWORD
OPPORTUNITY by Edward R. Sill

This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:
There spread a cloud of dust along a plain;
And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged
A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords
Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner
Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes.
A craven hung along the battle's edge
And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel --
That blue blade that the king's son bears -- but this
Blunt thing -- !" He snapt and flung it from his hand,
And, lowering, crept away and left the field.
Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead,
And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,
Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand,
And ran and snatched it, and with battle shout
Lifted afresh, he hewed his enemy down,
And saved a great cause that heroic day.


I DREAM by K. Campbell
(In life, as in fencing, you need a mental sword with which to fight your dragons.)

I dream.
In silvered shadows my hero arrives,
Not on a white horse,
But only walking.

He comes
Without a sword to slay the dark dragon.
His weapon mere words;
I hear him talking.

"It's nothing special. It's no big deal."
Odd things for a warrior to say.
Where is the poetry, the flourish?
Is this truly one who will win the day?

He falls silent. He offers his hand.
The dragon draws closer and I'm afraid.
Then, a shifting, adn the beast is gone.
We're dancing on mist in a forest glade.

I know.
Morpeus has sent a message by way
Of this strange champion,
"Dragons are real."

"They come.
You face them and they dissolve into mist.
They're nothing special.
They are no big deal.


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