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Davyes

offline 88 friends
joined on 09/20/04
last updated 01/07/09
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My Friends

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My Testimonials

April 23, 2007
When I hear James laugh, my day gets instantly better. He's so very creative (ask about his poetry!), and has a heart as big as all outdoors. He's a very good friend, a great faire-uncle to the kids, and a all-around Kewl D00d.
April 23, 2007
We love our Jimmy.... Bright funny always a smile.... We love our Jimmy... everyone needs a Jimmy.. and there is a someone out there who needs a Jimmy!!! we must make it our goal to find!!! Find!!!!!

We love our Jimmy!!!
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The New Elizabethan Rhythm

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Apologies and Excuses

Gender
Male
Age
43
Location
about me
I have a monkey
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Stuff

Sir John Davies was born at Tisbury, Wiltshire, where he was christened on April 16, 1569, third son of Mary and of John. His father died when he was ten. In 1580 he was sent to school at Winchester. He entered The Queen's College, Oxford, in 1585. Leaving Oxford a year and a half later, he proceeded to read law first at the New Inn, and then at the Middle Temple, 1588 onwards. The Epigrammes were written perhaps around 1590, the year Davies' mother passed away.

Sir John Davies w... read more
Wed, September 17, 2008 - 4:18 PM permalink - 2 comments
 
Thys was the Picture of her wondrous thought,
But who can wonder that her thought was so,
Sith Vulcan King of Fire, that Mirrour wrought,
(Who things to come, present, and past doth know)
And there did represent in lively show
Our glorious English Courts divine Image,
As it should be in this our *golden age.*

(I added the asterisks... )

Cool huh???!
Fri, May 9, 2008 - 7:15 PM permalink - 1 comment
 
Anybody else here on twitter?
Wed, March 5, 2008 - 2:01 PM permalink - 9 comments
 
The Dyal's your's watch time least it be lost
Yet they most lose it that do watch it most

- From "A Lotterie"
Sir John Davies
Fri, February 29, 2008 - 3:16 PM permalink - 1 comment
 
Faith, wench, I cannot courth thy sprightly eyes
With the base viol placed between my thighs;
I cannot lisp, nor to some fiddle sing,
Nor run upon a high-stretched minikin.
I cannot whine in puling elegies
Entombing Cupid with sad obsequies.
I am not fashioned for these amorous times
To court thy beauty with lascivious rhymes.
I cannot dally, caper, dance and sing,
Oiling my saint with supple sonneting.
I cannot cross my arms, or sigh "Ah, me -
Ah, me, forlorn!" - egregious fopper... read more
Fri, February 29, 2008 - 2:55 PM permalink - 0 comments
 
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LJ