Rosemary
THERE was a long path through the fern,—
O Rosemary, dost thou not know?
A silver maple at the turn,
A little gate below.
There was a youth, there was a maid,
She in the light, he in the shade,
When all the world was fair to see,—
O Rosemary, O Rosemary!
There was a briar by the wall,—
O Rosemary, hast thou forgot?
A slender, tender hand and small,
Stained with a crimson spot.
There was a little cry of pain,
Two heads bent low, then raised again;
And all the sun seemed poured on me,—
O Rosemary, O Rosemary!
There came a sail upon the bay,—
O Rosemary, didst thou foreknow?
Two blue eyes wandered far away,
Two cheeks were all aglow:—
A sail which neared and grew until
It cast a heart in shadow chill;
When someone's ship came in from sea,—
O Rosemary, O Rosemary!
poem by Abbie Farwell Brown from The New England Magazine / Volume 23, Issue 3 (1897)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Stealing Rosemary
If you need me
Ill be here
On my knees
On my knees
In the neighbors garden
Where the light is growing long
Stealing rosemary for you, my love
Its the tiny lies I tell
For you to please
You to please
Early in the morning
When the light is growing strong
Stealing rosemary for you, my love
Im stealing rosemary
Flowers crushing on my skin
Tuscan blue
All for you
Caught in rain and running
Home to you
Im coming home
Stealing rosemary for you, my love
Im stealing rosemary for you, my love
Stealing rosemary
song performed by by Bangles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rosemary Rose
Rosemary rose,
Nature sure gave you such a beautiful nose.
though youre not beautiful as someone would know,
That rosemary rose,
Has eyes of blue,
And someone is treasuring a picture of you,
Taken on a holiday when you were just three,
My sweet rosemary.
You look nothing like a child,
Yet youre such a little baby.
Chewing on your liquorish gum, and cigarettes.
Rosemary rose,
Carefully sewing on your buttons and bows.
Hoping that someone will be wanting to know,
Of rosemary rose.
You look nothing like a child,
Yet youre such a little baby.
Chewing on your liquorish gum, and cigarettes.
Rosemary rose,
Carefully sewing on your buttons and bows.
Hoping that someone will be wanting to know,
Of rosemary rose.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scarborough Fair
===================================
Simon & Garfunkel - Scarborough Fair
===================================
(3:52) Read the song on which this is based!
P. Simon/A. Garfunkel, 1966
Released on Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Without no seam nor needlework
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Between the salt water and the sea strand
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
And to gather it all in a bunch of heather
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Goodbye Dick
Goodbye dick, goodbye dick.
But I saw you walkin the white house lawn.
Goodbye dick, goodbye dick.
Goodbye rosemary, goodbye rosemary.
I saw you take your typewriter out of the white house door
No one wants you to type here anymore
Goodbye rosemary, goodbye rosemary.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scarborough Fair / Canticle
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary & thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
(On the side of a hill in the deep forest green)
Parsely, sage, rosemary & thyme
(Tracing a sparrow on snow-crested ground)
Without no seams nor needlework
(Blankets and bedclothes a child of the mountains)
Then she'll be a true love of mine
(Sleeps unaware of the clarion call)
Tell her to find me an acre of land
(On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves)
Parsely, sage, rosemary, & thyme
(Washed is the ground with so many tears)
Between the salt water and the sea strand
(A soldier cleans and polishes a gun)
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to reap it in a sickle of leather
(War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions)
Parsely, sage, rosemary & thyme
(Generals order their soldiers to kill)
And to gather it all in a bunch of heather
(And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten)
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary & thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rosemary
Give the Rose to Mary and call her Rosemary,
For her love is as lovely as the rose.
Rosemary, you are all that brings the roses of love to me;
And i will always smell the sweet aroma of your rose.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ragetty Doll
Rosemary has of dolls a dozen,
Yet she disdains them all;
While Marie Rose, her pauper cousin
Has just an old rag doll.
But you should see her mother it,
And with her kisses smother it.
A twist of twill, a hank of hair,
Fit for the rubbish bin;
How Rosemary with scorn would stare
At its pathetic grin!
Yet Marie Rose can lover it,
And with her kisses cover it.
Rosemary is a pampered pet;
She sniffs a dainty nose
Of scorn at ragged dolls, and yet
My love's with Marie Rose,
In garret corner shy and sweet,
With rag doll Marguerite.
Though kin they are, a gulf will grow
Between them with the years;
For one a life of love will know,
The other toil and tears:
Perhaps that shabby rag doll knows
The rue of Marie Rose.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kin To Sorrow
Am I kin to Sorrow,
That so oft
Falls the knocker of my door——
Neither loud nor soft,
But as long accustomed,
Under Sorrow's hand?
Marigolds around the step
And rosemary stand,
And then comes Sorrow—
And what does Sorrow care
For the rosemary
Or the marigolds there?
Am I kin to Sorrow?
Are we kin?
That so oft upon my door—
Oh, come in!
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Didnt Rosemary
Theres a black hill
We had a climb
Everything I need but nothings mine
Satans world, Ive had a kill
Why didnt rosemary ever take the pill?
Lying there waiting, waiting for the kill
Oh man wont do it, but the devil will
Im losing time and my mind
Why cant I ever have whats naturally mine?
I got life and the things that go with it
If theres something else, where can I get it?
Lying there waiting, waiting for the kill
Oh man wont do it, but the devil will
Well heres my views, I always lose
Things I want to do are yesterdays news
Say lifes a ball, Ive had it all
Out there in another dance hall
Lying there waiting, waiting for the kill
Oh man wont do it, but the devil will
Take me as I am, an excuse for a man
Wherever I push someone stops my hand
As a matter of interest, tell me if you will
Why didnt rosemary ever take the pill?
Lying there waiting, waiting for the kill
Oh man wont do it, but the devil will
Oh, why wont rosemary ever take the pill?
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Simpleton on the ropes
This innocent lacklustre who works in a farm earns a little and out of that he gives equal shares to his poor loving mother and a girl who pretends as his fiancée.
He dreams of their future soon build a cottage and have a child devote his entire life for them.
One equinox he received a letter very light from the city.
“Hi! My dear I joined the Jamboree here
Yours ever love Rosemary.”
Exactly after a fortnight he received another letter lighter than earlier.
“Hi! My dear the Jamboree is over and accidentally I found a boy.
Sorry, I am your unfortunate Rosemary.”
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rosemary
Beauty and Beauty's son and rosemary -
Venus and Love, her son, to speak plainly -
born of the sea supposedly,
at Christmas each, in company,
braids a garland of festivity.
Not always rosemary -
since the flight to Egypt, blooming indifferently.
With lancelike leaf, green but silver underneath,
its flowers - white originally -
turned blue. The herb of memory,
imitating the blue robe of Mary,
is not too legendary
to flower both as symbol and as pungency.
Springing from stones beside the sea,
the height of Christ when he was thirty-three,
it feeds on dew and to the bee
"hath a dumb language"; is in reality
a kind of Christmas tree.
poem by Marianne Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Key Of The Street
"Miss Rosemary," I dourly said,
"Our balance verges on the red,
We must cut down our overhead.
One of the staff will have to go.
There's Mister Jones, he's mighty slow,
Although he does his best, I know.
"A deer old man; I like him well,
But age, alas! will always tell.
Miss Rosemary, please ring the bell
And tell old Jones to step this way . . .
Oh dear, oh dear, it isn't gay
To say the things I have to say.
"Come in and sit down, Mister Jones."
He thanks me in sepulchral tones.
Poor chap! I hear his creaking bones.
"Have a cigar? And how's your wife?
What's that! You're fearing for her life -
A cancer and the surgeon's knife. . . .
"Yes, operations are so dear,
But it's your comfort and your cheer
To know your job's so steady here."
These are his words; so meek and mild,
He looks just like a simple child . . .
Go! darn it! Suddenly I'm riled.
And so I say: "That's just too bad.
But Mister Jones. it's very sad,
You know what losses we have had.
We must cut down in times like these,
So here's a cheque, Oh take it please -
'Twill help to pay your doctor's fees.
"And just to show how I appraise
Your work - despite these doleful days
I'm giving you . . . a little raise."
Said Rosemary: "Old Jones is crying."
Thought I: "Yes, each week I'll be sighing,
When from my pocket I am prying
Ten bucks to keep his wife from dying."
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So you see, you can't do everything alone.
quote by Rosemary Clooney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rosemary
Rosemarys the kind of girl
Who need no reason
Shes the kind that just wont
Settle down
Rose are out of season
Shell be done for treason
Shell be hanging from a tree
Upside down
Fever, fever
Where you tryin to run
Fever, diva
Rosemary is not done
Well...
Rosemarys the kind
Tired of her beauty
She has taken all her
Barriers down
So you best believe her
The girl will give you fever
Shes the kind to heat you up
And cool you down
Fever, fever
Where you tryin to run
Fever, diva
Rosemary...
Shes not done
Not done
Done
song performed by by Gomez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bridges (For Rosemary)
Two pillars devoured by
A famished hunger
With the dents still gnawing
Leaving us crumbs
And the gap between
These cringing towers
Is a torrent river
That needs not
A bridge
For we are the eddies
Of the river
And the soles
Of our weary feet
Is the very pavement
Of our constitution.
Speak little,
Care little,
And find yourself
In the fissures
Of my haunting bones
Shuddering in the same
Vestige of fear,
And tethered to
The same visage
Of foible inadequacies,
If I can only be
As firm as you are.
Dear, Rosemary
When you topple
I would fall harder,
When you believe,
I vie, I pry
For a succoring chance.
Sift the turfs
Of the wrong places,
Shuffle the winds
Of the windmills,
Thwart this delusion.
Dear Rosemary,
Leave if you must
Permit me to shatter
And pick up myself,
Or not.
Leave if you must,
We need not
A bridge.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm the only instrument that's got the words, so I've got to be able to get that across.
quote by Rosemary Clooney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You are the product of your own brainstorm.
quote by Rosemary Konner Steinbaum
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'll keep working as long as I live because singing has taken on the feeling of joy that I had when I started, when my only responsibility was to sing well.
quote by Rosemary Clooney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where rosemary grows the wife wears the trousers.
Rosemary was a little nervous about going onstage, but she went on with us. I saw her at a party, and a couple of months later they called me about doing the act.
quote by Margaret Whiting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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