ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL

Anon 18th century

A friend of mine was married to a scold,

To me he came and all his troubles told.

Said he, “She’s like a woman raving mad.”

“Alas, my friend” said I, “that’s very bad.”

“No, not so bad,” said he, “for with her, true,

I had both house and land, and money too.”

“That was well,” said I;

“No, not so well,” said he;

“For I and her own brother

Went to law with one another;

I was cast, the suit was lost,

And every penny went to pay the cost.”

“That was bad,” said I;

“No, not so bad,” said he;

“For we agreed that I the house should keep,

And give to me four score of Yorkshire sheep,

All fat and fine and fair, they were to be.”

“Well then,” said I, “sure that was well for thee?”

“No, not so well,” said he,

“For though the sheep I got, every one died of the rot.”

“That was bad,” said I;

“No, not so bad,” said he,

“For I had thought to scrape the fat,

And keep it in an oaken vat,

Then into tallow melt for winter store.”

“Well then,” said I, “That’s better than before.”

“Twas not so well,” said he,

“For having got a clumsy fellow

To scrape the fat and melt the tallow,

Into the melting fat the fire catches,

And, like brimstone matches,

Burnt my house to ashes.

“That WAS bad,” said I;

“No, not so bad,” said he, “for what is best,

My scolding wife got burnt up with the rest!”

-o0o-

AE FOND KISS

Robert Burns 1759-96

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever;

Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,

Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!

Who shall say that Fortune grieves him

While the star of hope she leaves him?

Me, nae cheerfu' twinkle lights me,

Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy;

Naething could resist my Nancy;

For to see her was to love her,

Love but her, and love for ever.

Had we never loved sae kindly,

Had we never loved sae blindly,

Never met - or never parted,

We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest!

Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest!

Thine be ilka joy and treasure,

Peace, enjoyment, love, and pleasure!

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!

Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!

Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,

Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee!

-o0o-

GOING DOWNHILL ON A BICYCLE

(A Boy’s Song)

Henry Charles Beeching 1859-1919

With lifted feet, hands still,

I am poised, and down the hill

Dart, with heedful mind;

The air goes by in a wind.

Swifter and yet more swift,

Till the heart with a mighty lift

Makes the lungs laugh, the throat cry:—

“O bird, see; see, bird, I fly.

“Is this, is this your joy?

O bird, then I, though a boy,

For a golden moment share

Your feathery life in air!”

Say, heart, is there aught like this

In a world that is full of bliss?

‘Tis more than skating, bound

Steel-shod to the level ground.

Speed slackens now, I float

Awhile in my airy boat;

Till, when the wheels scarce crawl,

My feet to the treadles fall.

Alas, that the longest hill

Must end in a vale; but still,

Who climbs with toil, wheresoe’er,

Shall find wings waiting there.

-o0o-

INVENTORY

Dorothy Parker 1893-1967

Four be the things I am wiser to know:

Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a foe.

Four be the things I'd been better without:

Love, curiosity, freckles, and doubt.

Three be the things I shall never attain:

Envy, content, and sufficient champagne.

Three be the things I shall have till I die:

Laughter and hope and a sock in the eye.

-o0o-

THE JOURNEY

Mary Oliver b.1935

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice -

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn’t stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations _

though their melancholy

was terrible. It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice,

which you slowly

recognised as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do - determined to save

the only life you could save.

-o0o-

I DO NOT LOVE THEE

Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton 1808-76

I do not love thee!—no! I do not love thee!

And yet when thou art absent I am sad;

   And envy even the bright blue sky above thee,

Whose quiet stars may see thee and be glad.

I do not love thee!—yet, I know not why,

Whate’er thou dost seems still well done, to me:

   And often in my solitude I sigh

That those I do love are not more like thee!

I do not love thee!—yet, when thou art gone,

I hate the sound (though those who speak be dear)

   Which breaks the lingering echo of the tone

Thy voice of music leaves upon my ear.

I do not love thee!—yet thy speaking eyes,

With their deep, bright, and most expressive blue,

   Between me and the midnight heaven arise,

Oftener than any eyes I ever knew.

-o0o-

ABSENCE

Robert Bridges 1844-1930

When my love was away, 

Full three days were not sped, 

I caught my fancy astray 

Thinking if she were dead, 

And I alone, alone: 

It seem'd in my misery 

In all the world was none 

Ever so lone as I. 

I wept; but it did not shame 

Nor comfort my heart: away 

I rode as I might, and came 

To my love at close of day. 

The sight of her still'd my fears, 

My fairest-hearted love: 

And yet in her eyes were tears: 

Which when I question'd of, 

"O now thou art come," she cried, 

''Tis fled: but I thought to-day 

I never could here abide, 

If thou wert longer away."

-o0o-

MISSING
Julie Andrews b.1935

I've lost my sense of humour,

It fell into a well.

That's full of dark self-pity,

As far as I can tell.

I'm glared at by the children.

I'm yelled at by the boss

And every little word I say

Makes everybody cross.

I'd run away and not come back

If it would do some good.

But nobody would notice

So I don't think I should.

I miss my sense of humour

And if, by chance, you see

It peeking round a corner

Please send it back to me.

-o0o-

THE LICORICE FIELDS AT PONTEFRACT

John Betjeman 1906-2084

In the licorice fields at Pontefract

My love and I did meet

And many a burdened licorice bush

Was blooming round our feet;

Red hair she had and golden skin,

Her sulky lips were shaped for sin,

Her sturdy legs were flannel-slack'd

The strongest legs in Pontefract.

The light and dangling licorice flowers

Gave off the sweetest smells;

From various black Victorian towers

The Sunday evening bells

Came pealing over dales and hills

And tanneries and silent mills

And lowly streets where country stops

And little shuttered corner shops.

She cast her blazing eyes on me

And plucked a licorice leaf;

I was her captive slave and she

My red-haired robber chief.

Oh love! for love I could not speak,

It left me winded, wilting, weak,

And held in brown arms strong and bare

And wound with flaming ropes of hair.

-o0o-

FROM A WINDOW

Charlotte Mew 1869-1928

Up here, with June, the sycamore throws

   Across the window a whispering screen;

    I shall miss the sycamore more, I suppose,

    Than anything else on this earth that is out in green.

        But I mean to go through the door without fear,

     Not caring much what happens here

       When I’m away -

   How green the screen is across the panes

    Or who goes laughing along the lanes

      With my old lover all summer day. 

90plus and still blogging was updated today

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TIME OF ROSES

Thomas Hood 1799-`1845

It was not in the Winter

 Our loving lot was cast;

It was the time of roses - 

 We pluck’d them as we pass’d!

That churlish season never frown’d

 On early lovers yet:

O no - the world was newly crown’d

 With flowers when first we met!

’Twas twilight, and I bade you go,

 But still you held me fast;

It was the time of roses - 

 We pluck’d them as we pass’d!

-o0o-

GIFTS

James Thomson 1834-82

Give a man a horse he can ride, 

         Give a man a boat he can sail; 

And his rank and wealth, his strength and health, 

         On sea nor shore shall fail. 

Give a man a pipe he can smoke, 

         Give a man a book he can read: 

And his home is bright with a calm delight, 

         Though the room be poor indeed. 

Give a man a girl he can love, 

         As I, O my love, love thee; 

And his heart is great with the pulse of Fate, 

         At home, on land, on sea. 

-o0o-

PERHAPS LOVE

John Denver 1943-97

Perhaps love is like a resting place,

A shelter from the storm;

It exists to give you comfort,

It is there to keep you warm.

And in those times of trouble

When you are most alone

The memory of love will bring you home.

Perhaps love is like a window,

Perhaps an open door;

It invites you to come closer,

It wants to show you more.

And even if you lose yourself

And don't know what to do,

The memory of love will see you through.

Oh, love to some is like a cloud,

To some as strong as steel,

For some a way of living,

For some a way to feel;

And some say love is holding on

And some say letting go,

And some say love is everything

And some say they don't know.

Perhaps love is like the ocean

Full of conflict, full of pain,

Like a fire when it's cold outside

Or thunder when it rains.

If I should live forever

And all my dreams come true,

My memories of love will be of you.

-o0o-

SHADOWS

Richard Monckton Milnes 1809-85

They seemed, to those who saw them meet,

The casual friends of every day;

Her smile was undisturbed and sweet,

His courtesy was free and gay.

But yet if one the other's name

In some unguarded moment heard,

The heart you thought so calm and tame

Would struggle like a captured bird:

And letters of mere formal phrase

Were blister'd with repeated tears,

And this was not the work of days,

But had gone on for years and years!

Alas, that love was not too strong

For maiden shame and manly pride!

Alas, that they delay'd so long

The goal of mutual bliss beside!

Yet what no chance could then reveal,

And neither would be first to own,

Let fate and courage now conceal,

When truth could bring remorse alone.

-o0o-

A WHITE ROSE

John Boyle O'Reilly 1844-90

The red rose whispers of passion,

And the white rose breathes of love;

O, the red rose is a falcon,

And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you a cream-white rosebud

With a flush on its petal tips;

For the love that is purest and sweetest

Has a kiss of desire on the lips.

-o0o-

WHEN FIRST I SAW YOUR FACE, LOVE

Dollie Radford 1858-1920

When first I saw your face, love,

I knew my search was done,

You passed my lonely place, love,

The light I sought was won,

When your steadfast eyes looked down on me,

And I arose to follow thee.

And something in your smile, love,

I knew to be a part

Of joy that for a while, love,

Had slumbered in my heart:

To what sweet music it awoke,

When first you turned to me and spoke! 

-o0o-

A BAY IN ANGLESEY

John Betjeman 1906-84

The sleepy sound of a tea-time tide

Slaps at the rocks the sun has dried,

Too lazy, almost, to sink and lift

Round low peninsulas pink with thrift.

The water, enlarging shells and sand,

Grows greener emerald out from land

And brown over shadowy shelves below

The waving forests of seaweed show.

Here at my feet in the short cliff grass

Are shells, dried bladderwrack, broken glass,

Pale blue squills and yellow rock roses.

The next low ridge that we climb discloses

One more field for the sheep to graze

While, scarcely seen on this hottest of days,

Far to the eastward, over there,

Snowdon rises in pearl-grey air.

Multiple lark-song, whispering bents,

The thymy, turfy and salty scents

And filling in, brimming in, sparkling and free

The sweet susurration of incoming sea. 

-o0o-

ALL THAT'S PAST

Walter de la Mare 1873-1958

Very old are the woods; 

And the buds that break 

Out of the brier's boughs, 

When March winds wake, 

So old with their beauty are - 

Oh, no man knows 

Through what wild centuries 

Roves back the rose.

Very old are the brooks; 

And the rills that rise 

Where snow sleeps cold beneath 

The azure skies 

Sing such a history 

Of come and gone, 

Their every drop is as wise 

As Solomon. 

Very old are we men; 

Our dreams are tales 

Told in dim Eden 

By Eve's nightingales; 

We wake and whisper awhile, 

But, the day gone by, 

Silence and sleep like fields 

Of amaranth lie. 

-o0o-

UP ON THE DOWNS

John Masefield 1878-1967

Up on the downs the red-eyed kestrels hover, 

Eyeing the grass.

The field-mouse flits like a shadow into cover 

As their shadows pass.

Men are burning the gorse on the down's shoulder; 

A drift of smoke

Glitters with fire and hangs, and the skies smoulder, 

And the lungs choke.

Once the tribe did thus on the downs, on these downs burning 

Men in the frame.

Crying to the gods of the downs till their brains were turning 

And the gods came.

And to-day on the downs, in the wind, the hawks, the grasses, 

In blood and air,

Something passes me and cries as it passes. 

On the chalk downland bare.

-o0o-

MILD THE MIST UPON THE HILL

Emily Bronte 1818-48

Mild the mist upon the hill

Telling not of storms tomorrow;

No, the day has wept its fill,

Spent its store of silent sorrow.

O, I'm gone back to the days of youth,

I am a child once more,

And 'neath my father's sheltering roof

And near the old hall door

I watch this cloudy evening fall

After a day of rain;

Blue mists, sweet mists of summer pall

The horizon's mountain chain.

The damp stands on the long green grass

As thick as morning's tears,

And dreamy scents of fragrance pass

That breathe of other years.

-o0o-

THE TAVERN

Edna St.Vincent Millay 1892-1950

I'll keep a little tavern

Below the high hill's crest,

Wherein all grey-eyed people

May set them down and rest.

There shall be plates a-plenty,

And mugs to melt the chill

Of all the grey-eyed people

Who happen up the hill.

There sound will sleep the traveller,

And dream his journey's end,

But I will rouse at midnight

The falling fire to tend.

Aye, 'tis a curious fancy -

But all the good I know

Was taught me out of two grey eyes

A long time ago.

-o0o-

IN FOUNTAIN COURT

Arthur Symons 1865-1945

The fountain murmuring of sleep,

A drowsy tune;

The flickering green of leaves that keep

The light of June;

Peace, through a slumbering afternoon,

The peace of June.

A waiting ghost, in the blue sky,

The white curved moon;

June, hushed and breathless, waits, and I

Wait too, with June;

Come, through the lingering afternoon,

Soon, love, come soon.

-o0o-

DOON IN THE WEE ROOM

Anon

Doon in the wee room underneath the stair

Everybody's happy and everybody's there,

We're a' makin' merry, each in his chair,

Doon in the wee room underneath the stair.

When you're tired and weary and you're feeling blue,

Don't give way tae sorrow, we'll tell you what to do,

Just tak' a trip tae Springburn and find the Quin's Bar there

And go doon tae the wee room underneath the stair.

The King went oot a-hunting, his fortune for tae seek,

He missed his train at Partick and went missing for a week.

And after days of searching, of sorrow and despair,

They found him in the wee room underneath the stair.

If your team has won the day and you want tae cheer,

Take a trip tae Springburn and order up a beer,

Hae yersel' a bevvy, gie yersel' a tear,

Doon in the wee room underneath the stair.

When I'm auld and feeble and my bones are gettin' set,

Ah'll no get cross and grumpy like other people get,

Ah'm savin' up ma bawbees tae buy a hurly chair*

Tae tak' me tae the wee room underneath the stair.

*hurly chair = wheel chair (Scot)

-o0o-

BILLY AND ME

James Hogg 1770-1835

Where the pools are bright and deep,

Where the grey trout lies asleep,

Up the river and over the lea,

That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the blackbird sings the latest,

Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest,

Where the nestlings chirp and flee,

That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the mowers mow the cleanest,

Where the hay lies thick and greenest,

There to track the homeward bee,

That's the way for Billy and me.

Where the hazel bank is steepest,

Where the shadow falls the deepest,

Where the clustering nuts fall free,

That's the way for Billy and me.

Why the boys should drive away

Little sweet maidens from the play,

Or love to banter and fight so well,

That's the thing I never could tell.

But this I know, I love to play

Through the meadow, among the hay;

Up the water and over the lea,

That's the way for Billy and me.

90plus WAS UPDATED TODAY

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IF YOU GO AWAY

Jacques Brel 1929-78

If you go away on this summer day

Then you might as well take the sun away,

All the birds that flew in the summer sky

When our love was new and our hearts were high,

When the days were young and the night was long

And the moon stood still for the night birds' song.

But if you stay I'll make you a day

Like no day has been or will be again,

We'll sail the sun, we'll ride on the rain

And talk to the trees and worship the wind,

But if you go, I'll understand,

Leave me just enough love to fill up my hand

If you go away as I know you will,

You must tell the world to stop turning

Till you return again, if you ever do,

For what good is love without loving you?

Can I tell you now as you turn to go,

I'll be dying slowly till the next hello.

But if you stay I'll make you a night

Like no night has been or will be again,

I'll sail on your smile, I'll ride on your touch,

I'll talk to your eyes that I love so much,

But if you go I won't cry,

For the good is gone from the world, goodbye.

If you go away as I know you must,

There'll be nothing left in this world to trust,

Just an empty room full of empty space

Like the empty space I see on your face,

And I'd have been a shadow of your shadow

If you might have kept me by your side.

-o0o-

ADLESTROP

Edward Thomas 1878-1917

Yes, I remember Adlestrop -

The name, because one afternoon 

Of heat the express train drew up there 

Unwontedly. It was late June. 

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat. 

No one left and no one came 

On the bare platform. What I saw 

Was Adlestrop -  only the name 

And willows, willow-herb, and grass, 

And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry, 

No whit less still and lonely fair 

Than the high cloudlets in the sky. 

And for that minute a blackbird sang 

Close by, and round him, mistier, 

Farther and farther, all the birds 

Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire. 

-o0o-

WOMAN WORK

Maya Angelou 1928-2014

I've got the children to tend

The clothes to mend

The floor to mop

The food to shop

Then the chicken to fry

The baby to dry

I got company to feed

The garden to weed

I've got shirts to press

The tots to dress

The cane to be cut

I gotta clean up this hut

Then see about the sick

And the cotton to pick.

Shine on me, sunshine

Rain on me, rain

Fall softly, dewdrops

And cool my brow again.

Storm, blow me from here

With your fiercest wind

Let me float across the sky

'Til I can rest again.

Fall gently, snowflakes

Cover me with white

Cold icy kisses and

Let me rest tonight.

Sun, rain, curving sky

Mountain, oceans, leaf and stone

Star shine, moon glow

You're all that I can call my own.

-o0o-

THE QUEEN'S MARYS

Anon

Yestreen the Queen had four Marys

The nicht she’ll hae but three,

There was Mary Seaton and Mary Beaton

And Mary Carmichael and me.

Oh, often have I dressed my Queen

And put on her braw silk gown

But all the thanks I've got tonight

Is to be hanged in Edinburgh Town

How often have I dressed my queen

And put gold on her hair

But I have got for my reward

The gallows to be my share.

Oh little did my mither ken

The day she cradled me

The land I was to travel in

The death I was to dee.

Oh, happy, happy is the maid

That's born of beauty free

It was my rosy dimpled cheeks

That's been the death o’ me.

Many people thought that the four Marys were ladies in waiting to Mary Queen of Scots, while others believed that they were at the court of Queen Elizabeth I, and that the fourth Mary was Mary Queen of Scots herself.  It’s known that, while Mary Queen of Scots was in France, she was accompanied by Mary Seaton, Mary Beaton, Mary Livingstone and Mary Fleming. Mary Hamilton has also been linked to the story. The general opinion now seems to be that the song has no historical basis.

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VERSE FOR A CERTAIN DOG

Dorothy Parker 1893-1967

Such glorious faith as fills your limpid eyes,

Dear little friend of mine, I never knew.

All-innocent are you, and yet all-wise.

(For Heaven's sake, stop worrying that shoe!)

You look about, and all you see is fair;

This mighty globe was made for you alone.

Of all the thunderous ages, you're the heir.

(Get off the pillow with that dirty bone!)

A sceptic world you face with steady gaze;

High in young pride you hold your noble head,

Gaily you meet the rush of roaring days.

(Must you eat puppy biscuit on the bed?)

Lancelike your courage, gleaming swift and strong,

Yours the white rapture of a winged soul,

Yours is a spirit like a Mayday song.

(God help you, if you break the goldfish bowl!)

"Whatever is, is good" - your gracious creed.

You wear your joy of living like a crown.

Love lights your simplest act, your every deed.

(Drop it, I tell you - put that kitten down!)

You are God's kindliest gift of all - a friend.

Your shining loyalty unflecked by doubt,

You ask but leave to follow to the end.

(Couldn't you wait until I took you out?)

-o0o-

ODE ON SOLITUDE

Alexander Pope 1688-1744

Happy the man, whose wish and care

A few paternal acres bound,

Content to breathe his native air,

                               In his own ground.

Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,

Whose flocks supply him with attire,

Whose trees in summer yield him shade,

                               In winter fire.

Blest! who can unconcern'dly find

Hours, days, and years slide soft away,

In health of body, peace of mind,

                               Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night; study and ease

Together mix'd; sweet recreation,

And innocence, which most does please,

                               With meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;

Thus unlamented let me die;

Steal from the world, and not a stone

                               Tell where I lie.

-o0o-

I SIT AND LOOK OUT

Walt Whitman 1819-92

I sit and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all

        oppression and shame;

I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with

        themselves, remorseful after deeds done;

I see, in low life, the mother misused by her children, dying,

        neglected, gaunt, desperate;

I see the wife misused by her husband - I see the treacherous seducer

        of young women;

I mark the ranklings of jealousy and unrequited love, attempted to be

        hid - I see these sights on the earth;

I see the workings of battle, pestilence, tyranny - I see martyrs and

        prisoners;

I observe a famine at sea - I observe the sailors casting lots who

        shall be kill'd, to preserve the lives of the rest;

I observe the slights and degradations cast by arrogant persons upon

        labourers, the poor, and upon negroes, and the like;

All these - All the meanness and agony without end, I, sitting, look

        out upon,

See, hear, and am silent.

90plus and still blogging

was updated today

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