Mary, Pity Women!

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1. Mary Morison O Mary, at thy window be, It is the wished, the trysted hour! Those smiles and glances let me see, That make the miser’s treasure poor: How blythely wad I bide the stour, A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison. Yestreen, when to the trembling […]...
2. 14. Song-Mary Morison O MARY, at thy window be, It is the wish’d, the trysted hour! Those smiles and glances let me see, That make the miser’s treasure poor: How blythely was I bide the stour, A weary slave frae sun to sun, Could I the rich reward secure, The lovely Mary Morison. Yestreen, when to the trembling […]...
3. God Has Pity On Kindergarten Children God has pity on kindergarten children, He pities school children less. But adults he pities not at all. He abandons them, And sometimes they have to crawl on all fours In the scorching sand To reach the dressing station, Streaming with blood. But perhaps He will have pity on those who love truly And take […]...
4. 191. Song-Theniel Menzies' Bonie Mary IN comin by the brig o’ Dye, At Darlet we a blink did tarry; As day was dawnin in the sky, We drank a health to bonie Mary. Chorus.-Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary, Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary, Charlie Grigor tint his plaidie, Kissin’ Theniel’s bonie Mary. Her een sae bright, her brow sae white, Her haffet […]...
5. To Mary The twentieth year is well nigh past Since first our sky was overcast;- Ah would that this might be the last! My Mary! Thy spirits have a fainter flow, I see thee daily weaker grow;- ‘Twas my distress that brought thee low, My Mary! Thy needles, once a shining store, For my sake restless heretofore, […]...
6. Mary smith Away down East where I was reared amongst my Yankee kith, There used to live a pretty girl whose name was Mary Smith; And though it’s many years since last I saw that pretty girl, And though I feel I’m sadly worn by Western strife and whirl; Still, oftentimes, I think about the old familiar […]...
7. Sonnet 112: Your love and pity doth th' impression fill Your love and pity doth th’ impression fill Which vulgar scandal stamped upon my brow; For what care I who calls me well or ill, So you o’ergreen my bad, my good allow? You are my all the world, and I must strive To know my shames and praises from your tongue; None else to […]...
8. 108. SongвЂ"Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary? WILL ye go to the Indies, my Mary, And leave auld Scotia’s shore? Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary, Across th’ Atlantic roar? O sweet grows the lime and the orange, And the apple on the pine; But a’ the charms o’ the Indies Can never equal thine. I hae sworn by the […]...
9. Pity Me Not Because The Light Of Day Pity me not because the light of day At close of day no longer walks the sky; Pity me not for beauties passed away From field and thicket as the the year goes by; Pity me not the waning of the moon, Nor that the ebbing tide goes out to sea, Nor that a man’s […]...
10. 'Tis easier to pity those when dead ‘Tis easier to pity those when dead That which pity previous Would have saved A Tragedy enacted Secures Applause That Tragedy enacting Too seldom does....
11. The Mary Gloster I’ve paid for your sickest fancies; I’ve humoured your crackedest whim Dick, it’s your daddy, dying; you’ve got to listen to him! Good for a fortnight, am I? The doctor told you? He lied. I shall go under by morning, and Put that nurse outside. ‘Never seen death yet, Dickie? Well, now is your time […]...
12. Modern Love XLIV: They Say That Pity They say, that Pity in Love’s service dwells, A porter at the rosy temple’s gate. I missed him going: but it is my fate To come upon him now beside his wells; Whereby I know that I Love’s temple leave, And that the purple doors have closed behind. Poor soul! if in those early days […]...
13. 294. Song-To Mary in Heaven THOU ling’ring star, with lessening ray, That lov’st to greet the early morn, Again thou usher’st in the day My Mary from my soul was torn. O Mary! dear departed shade! Where is thy place of blissful rest? See’st thou thy lover lowly laid? Hear’st thou the groans that rend his breast? That sacred hour […]...
14. John Kinsella's Lament For Mrs. Mary Moore I A bloody and a sudden end, Gunshot or a noose, For Death who takes what man would keep, Leaves what man would lose. He might have had my sister, My cousins by the score, But nothing satisfied the fool But my dear Mary Moore, None other knows what pleasures man At table or in […]...
15. I cried at Pity not at Pain I cried at Pity not at Pain I heard a Woman say “Poor Child” and something in her voice Convicted me of me So long I fainted, to myself It seemed the common way, And Health, and Laughter, Curious things To look at, like a Toy To sometimes hear “Rich people” buy And see the […]...
16. Mary – A Ballad Author Note: The story of the following ballad was related to me, when a school boy, as a fact which had really happened in the North of England. I have Adopted the metre of Mr. Lewis’s Alonzo and Imogene a poem deservedly Popular. I. Who is she, the poor Maniac, whose wildly-fix’d eyes Seem a […]...
17. Mary Ellen It’s mighty quiet in the house Since Mary Ellen quit me cold; I’ve swept the hearth and fed the mouse That’s getting fat and overbold. I’ve bought a pig’s foot for the pot And soon I’ll set the fire alight; Then I may eat or I may not, Depends upon my appetite. Since Mary Ellen […]...
18. NO FAULT IN WOMEN No fault in women, to refuse The offer which they most would chuse. No fault: in women, to confess How tedious they are in their dress; No fault in women, to lay on The tincture of vermilion; And there to give the cheek a dye Of white, where Nature doth deny. No fault in women, […]...
19. 384. Song-Highland Mary YE banks, and braes, and streams around The castle o’ Montgomery! Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie: There Simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last Farewell O’ my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom’d the gay, green birk, How rich […]...
20. Highland Mary Ye banks and braes and streams around The castle o’ Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie! There simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry; For there I took the last fareweel O’ my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloomed the gay green birk, How rich […]...
21. If Mary Had Known If Mary had known When she held her Babe’s hands in her own­ Little hands that were tender and white as a rose, All dented with dimples from finger to wrist, Such as mothers have kissed­ That one day they must feel the fierce blows Of a hatred insane, Must redden with holiest stain, And […]...
22. As far from pity, as complaint As far from pity, as complaint As cool to speech as stone As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone As far from time as History As near yourself Today As Children, to the Rainbow’s scarf Or Sunset’s Yellow play To eyelids in the Sepulchre How dumb the Dancer lies While Color’s Revelations […]...
23. Epitaph On the Lady Mary Villiers THE Lady Mary Villiers lies Under this stone; with weeping eyes The parents that first gave her birth, And their sad friends, laid her in earth. If any of them, Reader, were Known unto thee, shed a tear; Or if thyself possess a gem As dear to thee, as this to them, Though a stranger […]...
24. Bill 'Awkins “‘As anybody seen Bill ‘Awkins?” “Now ‘ow in the devil would I know?” “‘E’s taken my girl out walkin’, An’ I’ve got to tell ‘im so Gawd bless ‘im! I’ve got to tell ‘im so.” “D’yer know what ‘e’s like, Bill ‘Awkins?” “Now what in the devil would I care?” “‘E’s the livin’, breathin’ image […]...
25. 239. Song-My Bonie Mary GO, fetch to me a pint o’ wine, And fill it in a silver tassie; That I may drink before I go, A service to my bonie lassie. The boat rocks at the pier o’ Leith; Fu’ loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry; The ship rides by the Berwick-law, And I maun leave my […]...
26. The Pity Of Love A pity beyond all telling Is hid in the heart of love: The folk who are buying and selling, The clouds on their journey above, The cold wet winds ever blowing, And the shadowy hazel grove Where mouse-grey waters are flowing, Threaten the head that I love....
27. Women Washing Their Hair THEY have painted and sung The women washing their hair, And the plaits and strands in the sun, And the golden combs And the combs of elephant tusks And the combs of buffalo horn and hoof. The sun has been good to women, Drying their heads of hair As they stooped and shook their shoulders […]...
28. Mary The angel of self-discipline, her guardian Since she first knew and had to go away From home that spring to have her child with strangers, Sustained her, till the vanished boy next door And her ordeal seemed fiction, and the true Her mother’s firm insistence she was the mother And the neighbors’ acquiescence. So she […]...
29. The Laughter Of Women The laughter of women sets fire To the Halls of Injustice And the false evidence burns To a beautiful white lightness It rattles the Chambers of Congress And forces the windows wide open So the fatuous speeches can fly out The laughter of women wipes the mist From the spectacles of the old; It infects […]...
30. My Own Heart Let Me Have More Have Pity On; Let My own heart let me have more have pity on; let Me live to my sad self hereafter kind, Charitable; not live this tormented mind With this tormented mind tormenting yet. I cast for comfort I can no more get By groping round my comfortless, than blind Eyes in their dark can day or thirst […]...
31. Remembered Women FOR a woman’s face remembered as a spot of quick light on the flat land of dark night, For this memory of one mouth and a forehead they go on in the gray rain and the mud, they go on among the boots and guns. The horizon ahead is a thousand fang flashes, it is […]...
32. 313. Lament of Mary, Queen of Scots NOW Nature hangs her mantle green On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o’ daisies white Out o’er the grassy lea; Now Phoebus cheers the crystal streams, And glads the azure skies; But nought can glad the weary wight That fast in durance lies. Now laverocks wake the merry morn Aloft on dewy wing; […]...
33. 371. Song-Lady Mary Ann O LADY Mary Ann looks o’er the Castle wa’, She saw three bonie boys playing at the ba’, The youngest he was the flower amang them a’, My bonie laddie’s young, but he’s growin’ yet. O father, O father, an ye think it fit, We’ll send him a year to the college yet, We’ll sew […]...
34. Spanish Women The Spanish women don’t wear slacks Because their hips are too enormous. ‘Tis true each bulbous bosom lacks No inspiration that should warm us; But how our ardor seems to freeze When we behold their bulgy knees! Their starry eyes and dusky hair, Their dazzling teeth in smile so gracious, I love, but oh I […]...
35. Mary and Gabriel Young Mary, loitering once her garden way, Felt a warm splendour grow in the April day, As wine that blushes water through. And soon, Out of the gold air of the afternoon, One knelt before her: hair he had, or fire, Bound back above his ears with golden wire, Baring the eager marble of his […]...
36. There's Wisdom In Women “Oh love is fair, and love is rare;” my dear one she said, “But love goes lightly over.” I bowed her foolish head, And kissed her hair and laughed at her. Such a child was she; So new to love, so true to love, and she spoke so bitterly. But there’s wisdom in women, of […]...
37. That Women Are But Men's Shadows Follow a shadow, it still flies you; Seem to fly it, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies you; Let her alone, she will court you. Say, are not women truly then Styled but the shadows of us men? At morn and even shades are longest, At noon they are or short or […]...
38. Women's Suffrage Fellow men! why should the lords try to despise And prohibit women from having the benefit of the parliamentary Franchise? When they pay the same taxes as you and me, I consider they ought to have the same liberty. And I consider if they are not allowed the same liberty, From taxation every one of […]...
39. The Gift of the Sea The dead child lay in the shroud, And the widow watched beside; And her mother slept, and the Channel swept The gale in the teeth of the tide. But the mother laughed at all. “I have lost my man in the sea, And the child is dead. Be still,” she said, “What more can ye […]...
40. The Sea Took Pity The sea took pity: it interposed with doom: ‘I have tall daughters dear that heed my hand: Let Winter wed one, sow them in her womb, And she shall child them on the New-world strand.’ . . . . . . . ....