Mary's Son

Related poetry:

1. 397. Song-Wandering Willie (Revised Version) HERE awa, there awa, wandering Willie, Here awa, there awa, haud awa hame; Come to my bosom, my ain only dearie, Tell me thou bring’st me my Willie the same. Winter winds blew loud and cauld at our parting, Fears for my Willie brought tears in my e’e, Welcome nowhSimmer, and welcome, my Willie, The […]...
2. 332. Song-You're welcome, Willie Stewart Chorus.-You’re welcome, Willie Stewart, You’re welcome, Willie Stewart, There’s ne’er a flower that blooms in May, That’s half sae welcome’s thou art! COME, bumpers high, express your joy, The bowl we maun renew it, The tappet hen, gae bring her ben, To welcome Willie Stewart, You’re welcome, Willie Stewart, &c. May foes be strang, and […]...
3. 396. Song-Wandering Willie HERE awa, there awa, wandering Willie, Now tired with wandering, haud awa hame; Come to my bosom, my ae only dearie, And tell me thou bring’st me my Willie the same. Loud blew the cauld winter winds at our parting; It was na the blast brought the tear in my e’e: Now welcome the Simmer, […]...
4. 349. Song-Kenmure's on and awa, Willie O KENMURE’S on and awa, Willie, O Kenmure’s on and awa: An’ Kenmure’s lord’s the bravest lord That ever Galloway saw. Success to Kenmure’s band, Willie! Success to Kenmure’s band! There’s no a heart that fears a Whig, That rides by kenmure’s hand. Here’s Kenmure’s health in wine, Willie! Here’s Kenmure’s health in wine! There’s […]...
5. Long Plighted Is it worth while, dear, now, To call for bells, and sally forth arrayed For marriage-rites discussed, decried, delayed So many years? Is it worth while, dear, now, To stir desire for old fond purposings, By feints that Time still serves for dallyings, Though quittance nears? Is it worth while, dear, when The day being […]...
6. 370. Song-Sic a Wife as Willie had WILLIE WASTLE dwalt on Tweed, The spot they ca’d it Linkumdoddie; Willie was a wabster gude, Could stown a clue wi’ ony body: He had a wife was dour and din, O Tinkler Maidgie was her mither; Sic a wife as Willie had, I wad na gie a button for her! She has an e’e, […]...
7. Whats The Use Of A Title? They dont make it The beautiful die in flame – Sucide pills, rat poison, rope what – Ever… They rip their arms off, Throw themselves out of windows, They pull their eyes out of the sockets, Reject love Reject hate Reject, reject. They do’nt make it The beautiful can’t endure, They are butterflies They are […]...
8. 374. Song-O can ye Labour Lea? Chorus-O can ye labour lea, young man, O can ye labour lea? It fee nor bountith shall us twine Gin ye can labour lea. I FEE’D a man at Michaelmas, Wi’ airle pennies three; But a’ the faut I had to him, He could na labour lea, O can ye labour lea, &c. O clappin’s […]...
9. 171. Burlesque Lament fo Wm. Creech's Absence AULD chuckie Reekie’s 1 sair distrest, Down droops her ance weel burnish’d crest, Nae joy her bonie buskit nest Can yield ava, Her darling bird that she lo’es best- Willie’s awa! O Willie was a witty wight, And had o’ things an unco’ sleight, Auld Reekie aye he keepit tight, And trig an’ braw: But […]...
10. The Night Cometh Work! for the night is coming; Work! through the morning hours; Work! while the dew is sparkling; Work! ‘mid the springing flowers; Work! while the day grows brighter, Under the glowing sun; Work! for the night is coming, Night, when man’s work is done. Work! for the night is coming; Work! through the sunny noon; […]...
11. A Sane Revolution If you make a revolution, make it for fun, Don’t make it in ghastly seriousness, Don’t do it in deadly earnest, Do it for fun. Don’t do it because you hate people, Do it just to spit in their eye. Don’t do it for the money, Do it and be damned to the money. Don’t […]...
12. 131. Song-Willie Chalmers WI’ braw new branks in mickle pride, And eke a braw new brechan, My Pegasus I’m got astride, And up Parnassus pechin; Whiles owre a bush wi’ donwward crush, The doited beastie stammers; Then up he gets, and off he sets, For sake o’ Willie Chalmers. I doubt na, lass, that weel ken’d name May […]...
13. An Apple-Gathering I plucked pink blossoms from mine apple tree And wore them all that evening in my hair: Then in due season when I went to see I found no apples there. With dangling basket all along the grass As I had come I went the selfsame track: My neighbours mocked me while they saw me […]...
14. 416. Song-Logan Braes O LOGAN, sweetly didst thou glide, That day I was my Willie’s bride, And years sin syne hae o’er us run, Like Logan to the simmer sun: But now thy flowery banks appear Like drumlie Winter, dark and drear, While my dear lad maun face his faes, Far, far frae me and Logan braes. Again […]...
15. The Gentle Traveller Through many a land your journey ran, And showed the best the world can boast: Now tell me, traveller, if you can, The place that pleased you most.” She laid her hands upon my breast, And murmured gently in my ear, “The place I loved and liked the best Was in your arms, my dear!”...
16. Le Gout du Néant Morne esprit, autrefois amoureux de la lutte, L’Espoir, dont l’éperon attisait ton ardeur, Ne veut plus t’enfourcher! Couche-toi sans pudeur, Vieux cheval dont le pied à chaque obstacle bute. Résigne-toi, mon coeur; dors ton sommeil de brute. Esprit vaincu, fourbu! Pour toi, vieux maraudeur, L’amour n’a plus de gout, non plus que la dispute; Adieu […]...
17. The Song of the Shirt With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch She sang the “Song of the Shirt.” “Work! work! work! While the cock is crowing aloof! And work […]...
18. To Zoл Against the groaning mast I stand, The Atlantic surges swell, To bear me from my native land And Zoл’s wild farewell. From billow upon billow hurl’d I can yet hear her say, ‘And is there nothing in the world Worth one short hour’s delay?’ ‘Alas, my Zoл! were it thus, I should not sail alone, […]...
19. 150. Song-Rattlin, Roarin Willie AS 1 I cam by Crochallan, I cannilie keekit ben; Rattlin’, roarin’ Willie Was sittin at yon boord-en’; Sittin at yon boord-en, And amang gude companie; Rattlin’, roarin’ Willie, You’re welcome hame to me! Note 1. William Dunbar, W. S., of the Crochallan Fencibles, a convivial club. [back]...
20. Little Willie When Willie was a little boy, No more than five or six, Right constantly he did annoy His mother with his tricks. Yet not a picayune cared I For what he did or said, Unless, as happened frequently, The rascal wet the bed. Closely he cuddled up to me, And put his hands in mine, […]...
21. Work chapter VII Then a ploughman said, “Speak to us of Work.” And he answered, saying: You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth. For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life’s procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission […]...
22. Impromptu, to Lady Winchelsea In vain you boast Poetic Names of yore, And cite those Sapho’s we admire no more: Fate doom’d the Fall of ev’ry Female Wit, But doom’d it then when first Ardelia writ. Of all Examples by the World confest, I knew Ardelia could not quote the best; Who, like her Mistress on Britannia’s Throne; Fights, […]...
23. Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
24. "I Love You Sweatheart&quot A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend Holding his legs?) with spray paint To write the words on a girder fifty feet above A highway. And his beloved, The next morning driving to work…? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she […]...
25. 58. Epitaph on Holy Willie HERE Holy Willie’s sair worn clay Taks up its last abode; His saul has ta’en some other way, I fear, the left-hand road. Stop! there he is, as sure’s a gun, Poor, silly body, see him; Nae wonder he’s as black’s the grun, Observe wha’s standing wi’ him. Your brunstane devilship, I see, Has got […]...
26. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...
27. Meeting Hidden by old age awhile In masker’s cloak and hood, Each hating what the other loved, Face to face we stood: ‘That I have met with such,’ said he, ‘Bodes me little good.’ ‘Let others boast their fill,’ said I, ‘But never dare to boast That such as I had such a man For lover […]...
28. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
29. No Master Indeed this is the sweet life! my hand Is under no proud man’s command; There is no voice to break my rest Before a bird has left its nest; There is no man to change my mood, When I go nutting in the wood; No man to pluck my sleeve and say I want thy […]...
30. Do You Hear The Angel Speaking? Do you hear the angel speaking? Do you hear her heavenly voice? Do you hear the song she’s singing? Will you help her to rejoice? Do you hear her when you’re weary And find it hard to cope? Do you hear her inspiration and Her messages of hope? Do you hear her voice of wisdom… […]...
31. Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...
32. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
33. Still Here I been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between ’em they done Tried to make me Stop laughin’, stop lovin’, stop livin’ But I don’t care! I’m still here!...
34. Apologetic Postscript Of A Year Later IF you see this song, my dear, And last year’s toast, I’m confoundedly in fear You’ll be serious and severe About the boast. Blame not that I sought such aid To cure regret. I was then so lowly laid I used all the Gasconnade That I could get. Being snubbed is somewhat smart, Believe, my […]...
35. A Distance From The Sea To Ernest Brace “And when the seven thunders had uttered their voices, I was About to write: and I heard a voice from heaven saying unto Me, Seal up those things which the seven thunders uttered, and Write them not.” REVELATIONS, x, 4. That raft we rigged up, under the water, Was just the item: […]...
36. Psalm 57 Praise for protection, grace, and truth. My God, in whom are all the springs Of boundless love, and grace unknown, Hide me beneath thy spreading wings, Till the dark cloud is overblown. Up to the heav’ns I send my cry, The Lord will my desires perform; He sends his angel from the sky, And saves […]...
37. Auld Lang Syne Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And auld lang syne? For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye’ll be your pint-stowp, And surely I’ll be mine! And we’ll tak a […]...
38. Sandpipers Sandland where the salt water kills the sweet potatoes. Homes for sandpipers-the script of their feet is on the sea shingles-they write in the morning, it is gone at noon-they write at noon, it is gone at night. Pity the land, the sea, the ten mile flats, pity anything but the sandpiper’s wire legs and […]...
39. Ulster The dark eleventh hour Draws on and sees us sold To every evil power We fought against of old. Rebellion, rapine hate Oppression, wrong and greed Are loosed to rule our fate, By England’s act and deed. The Faith in which we stand, The laws we made and guard, Our honour, lives, and land Are […]...
40. The Wage-Slaves Oh, glorious are the guarded heights Where guardian souls abide Self-exiled from our gross delights Above, beyond, outside: An ampler arc their spirit swings Commands a juster view We have their word for all these things, No doubt their words are true. Yet we, the bond slaves of our day, Whom dirt and danger press […]...