May Day Customs
I have seen the Lady of the May
Set in an arbour, on a holiday,
Built by the May-pole, where the jocund swains
Dance with the maidens to the bagpipe's strains,
When envious night commands them to be gone
Call for the merry youngsters one by one,
And for their well performance soon disposes:
To this a garland interwove with roses,
To that a carvèd hook or well-wrought scrip,
Gracing another with her cherry lip;
To one her garter, to another then
A handkerchief cast o'er and o'er again;
And none returneth empty that hath spent
His pains to fill their rural merriment.
poem by William Browne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Lady Of The Night
They call her the lady of the night
Shes a woman of the world
And easy-living girl with love for sale
Thats what they call her the lady of the night
No one seems to know her name
And even less about the place
From where she came
Every evening when the night is close at hand
Youll find the lady on the rue davignon
In a half lit hotel doorway the lady advertises warmly
Its just a job but shell do the best she can
Dont try to change this lady of the night
Shes a lot like you and me
And less than what she seems to be
(she is the lady of the night)
And easy-living girl
(she is the lady of the night)
Shes a woman of the world
(she is the lady of the night)
With lots of loving for sale
(she is the lady of the night)
Lady lady of the night
Round here they call her the lady of the night
In a perfume hotel room
Shadows dance upon the wall and fate at dawn
Shes no beginner this lady of the night
Never try that funny stuff
cause lady can be tough
Be warned!
(she is the lady of the night)
Shes a lot like you and me
(she is the lady of the night)
And never just what she seems
(she is the lady of the night)
No one seems to know her name
(she is the lady of the night)
Or the place from where she came
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cherry-Time
Cherries of the night are riper
Than the cherries pluckt at noon
Gather to your fairy piper
When he pipes his magic tune:
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
Under the moon.
And you’ll be fairies soon.
In the cherry pluckt at night,
With the dew of summer swelling,
There’s a juice of pure delight,
Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
In the moonlight.
And you’ll be fairies quite.
When I sound the fairy call,
Gather here in silent meeting,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall,
Cooled with dew and cherries eating.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter.
For the eater
When the dews fall.
And you’ll be fairies all.
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Cherry-Time
Cherries of the night are riper
Than the cherries pluckt at noon
Gather to your fairy piper
When he pipes his magic tune:
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
Under the moon.
And you’ll be fairies soon.
In the cherry pluckt at night,
With the dew of summer swelling,
There’s a juice of pure delight,
Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
In the moonlight.
And you’ll be fairies quite.
When I sound the fairy call,
Gather here in silent meeting,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall,
Cooled with dew and cherries eating.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter.
For the eater
When the dews fall.
And you’ll be fairies all.
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bagpipe Who Didn’t Say No
It was nine o'clock at midnight at a quarter after three
When a turtle met a bagpipe on the shoreside by the sea,
And the turtle said, 'My dearie,
May I sit with you? I'm weary.'
And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, 'I have walked this lonely shore,
I have talked to waves and pebbles--but I've never loved before.
Will you marry me today, dear?
Is it 'No' you're going to say dear?'
But the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to his darling, 'Please excuse me if I stare,
But you have the plaidest skin, dear,
And you have the strangest hair.
If I begged you pretty please, love,
Could I give you just one squeeze, love?'
And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, 'Ah, you love me. Then confess!
Let me whisper in your dainty ear and hold you to my chest.'
And he cuddled her and teased her
And so lovingly he squeezed her.
And the bagpipe said, 'Aaooga.'
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, 'Did you honk or bray or neigh?
For 'Aaooga' when your kissed is such a heartless thing to say.
Is it that I have offended?
Is it that our love is ended?'
And the bagpipe didn't say no.
Said the turtle to the bagpipe, 'Shall i leave you, darling wife?
Shall i waddle off to Woedom? Shall i crawl out of your life?
Shall I move, depart and go, dear--
Oh, I beg you tell me 'No' dear!'
But the bagpipe didn't say no.
So the turtle crept off crying and he ne'er came back no more,
And he left the bagpipe lying on that smooth and sandy shore.
And some night when tide is low there,
Just walk up and say, 'Hello, there,'
And politely ask the bagpipe if this story's really so.
I assure you, darling children, the bagpipe won't say 'No.'
poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Santa Got Drunk For Christmas
A little too much
Holiday cheer
Twas the night before
His wedding anniversary
And he wakes up
In trouble
Next to a ho, ho, ho
Not so jolly now
Cos he's got
Such a awful hangover
Went a bit overboard
Santa got drunk for Christmas
The elves wanted to party
How could he say no?
They had all worked so hard
Making those toys
So off they went
To the local North Pole bar
To sing and dance
Eat, drink, and be merry
Then oops things got
Just a little out of hand when
Santa got drunk for Christmas
Got tipsy
Underneath the mistletoe
Oh how he made them all
Wanna throw up
When Santa did his dance
Swung his candy cane all around
Scared them to and fro
With a belly
That made it clear
Someone had had too much jelly
On the night Santa got drunk for Christmas
Uh oh
Santa's on the naughty list now
Cos Mrs. Claus just found out
Tonight closing those legs
Tells old Saint Nick
You ain't getting none
It's sleeping on the couch and AA for you
Don' t wanna ever catch you
With that vixen again
Such a sad case
Too bad
This is his story
Of one holiday
Gone so very wrong
The night
Santa got drunk for Christmas
poem by Ramona Thompson
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Little possum
Little possum
That lives under
The back porch
I will not tell mama
She will call the exterminators
And she having grown up
On big mama’s farm in Mississippi
I’ve tell you a story
When I was ten years old granddaddy
Took me possum hunting
He caught one and built
A three legged tri pole
And built a fire at its center
He roast that possum burning off all it hair
That night full of Mississippi stare
I ate my fill.
poem by David E. Patton
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Cherry, Cherry
Cherry, cherry
Rozanda was her real name
But cherry was her chosen one
Everybody said that shed soon be dead
But cherry replied at least I had some fun (oh yes)
Her eyes were like a pool of 24 karat diamonds
I was the last in a long line of foolish men who dived in
Chorus:
Cherry, cherry
I think about u every rising sun
Whoa cherry, cherry
Wherever u are, I hope ure havin fun (oh yes)
Tuesday was my big game
North vs. central in basketball
Underneath their long coats
Cherry and the girls wore camisoles
Every time north would run the hoop
Cherry would flash em and they would fall
But not as hard as I fell
When cherry gave me her number and told me 2 call (u should call me)
Using all the money her boyfriend wilbur gave her, shed buy
Anything I wanted, thats why my babys so fly
Chorus
(do do do do do)
Me and cherry got married
And tried our best 2 keep it on the down low, the down low
I was combing her hair
The day that wilbur called and cussed her on the phone
He beat her up real bad and figured I was gonna leave her
Instead I bought a 45 and set out 2 relieve her (take him out)
If he was taken out then he could never harm another
No sooner than I got there, I was met by cherrys mother cryin
Cherry, cherry
Every night I ask the lord why? oh why?
Cherry, cherry
Another victim of a suicide (why oh why? )
Why?
Cherry, cherry
I think about u every rising sun
Whoa cherry, cherry
Wherever u are, I hope ure havin fun
I hope ure having fun, baby
Cherry, cherry
Id give anything 2 kiss u
Cherry, cherry
I guess I just miss u
Cherry
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All The Rage
1-2-3,2-2-3
The twitching impulses to speak your mind
Ill lend you my microscope and maybe you will find it
Is it in that ugly place thats just behind your face
Where you keep my picture still despite the fact
That you had me replaced
Chorus:
Say goodbye
Baby cant you act your age?
You know why
Im going to give it to you straight
Although Ill never be
Unhappy as you want me to be
Still its all the rage
Ill probably play along
Left to my own devices
Spare me the drone of your advice
The sins of garter and gin
Confession may delay
You know the measuring pole
The merry boots of clay
Ive heard it all before
Youll say it anyway
Chorus
Alone with your tweezers and your handkerchief
You murder time and truth, love, laughter and belief
So dont try to touch my heart, its darker than you think
And dont try to read my mind because its full of disappearing ink
Chorus
Although Ill never be
Unhappy as you want me to be
Still its all the rage
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Happy Holiday / White Christmas
Happy Holiday
Happy Holiday
Happy Holiday
Happy Holiday
Why the merry bells keep ringing
May your every wish come true
Happy Holiday
Happy Holiday
May the calender keep bringing
Happy holiday to you
I'm dreaming of a white christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the treetops glisten
And children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow
I'm dreaming of a white christmas
With every christmas card I write
May your days be merry and bright
And may all your christmases be white
Happy Holiday
Happy Holiday
Why the merry bells keep ringing
May your every wish come true
Happy Holiday
Happy Holiday
May the calender keep bringing
The most happy holiday to you
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain Along Shore
Wan white mists upon the sea,
East wind harping mournfully
All the sunken reefs along,
Wail and heart-break in its song,
But adown the placid bay
Fisher-folk keep holiday.
All the deeps beyond the bar
Call and murmur from afar,
'Plaining of a mighty woe
Where the great ships come and go,
But adown the harbor gray
Fisher-folk keep holiday.
When the cloudy heavens frown,
And the sweeping rain comes down,
Boats at anchorage must bide
In despite of time or tide;
Making merry as they may
Fisher-folk keep holiday.
Now is time for jest and song
All the idle shore along,
Now is time for wooing dear,
Maidens cannot choose but hear;
Daffing toil and care away
Fisher-folk keep holiday.
Oh, the fretted reefs may wail,
Every man has furled his sail!
Oh, the wind may moan in fear,
Every lad is with his dear!
Mirth and laughter have their way,
Fisher-folk keep holiday.
poem by Lucy Maud Montgomery
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Prime Time
Cavalier roses, but the thorns got in my soul
Chocolate box intention, but a bitter taste left me cold
Take a little something, a present clouds the past
Traded our emotions, it couldnt last, wouldnt last at all
And though you didnt say
I knew youd swim away
Fine time for hook and line
And though whats done is done, yeah
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down!
Bitter suite decision, sofa so good the day we met
Eye for eye collision, pillow talking, only pillow talking
Matinee romancing, the bait is set, the net is cast
Cheated our emotions, it couldnt last
Wouldnt last at all
Although you didnt say
I knew youd swim away
Prime time for hook and line
And though whats done is done
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down!
And words are words thats all
Im going to stand or fall
Prime time for hook and line
Dont you swim away...
Prime time for the hook and line
Prime time for the hook and line
For the hook, the hook and line
Although you didnt say, yeah
I knew youd swim away
Prime time for hook and line
And though whats done is done, yeah
I know my right from wrong
Prime time to cast me down
Line by line adventure
A prime time for the hook and line
Castaway in pleasure
A prime time
Curtain razor tension
A prime time for the hook and line
Wasted our emotions
A prime time
song performed by by Haircut 100
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Lady
MOTHER of God! no lady thou:
Common woman of common earth
Our Lady ladies call thee now,
But Christ was never of gentle birth;
A common man of the common earth.
For God’s ways are not as our ways:
The noblest lady in the land
Would have given up half her days,
Would have cut off her right hand,
To bear the child that was God of the land.
Never a lady did He choose,
Only a maid of low degree,
So humble she might not refuse
The carpenter of Galilee:
A daughter of the people, she.
Out she sang the song of her heart.
Never a lady so had sung.
She knew no letters, had no art;
To all mankind, in woman’s tongue,
Hath Israelitish Mary sung.
And still for men to come she sings,
Nor shall her singing pass away.
‘He hath fillàd the hungry with good things’—
O listen, lords and ladies gay!—
‘And the rich He hath sent empty away.’
poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
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The Hours After…
Merry, Merry Christmas
It is a joyous time of year
The sounds of Christmas
Are reverberating in my ear
Turn off the colorful tree lights
Another Christmas has gone by
The festivities are over
The punch has been drained dry…
Merry, Merry Christmas
Calm permeates the hours after
Time to regain an inner balance
No more hugs or jolly laughter
The opened gifts fill the trash
With wrapping paper and bows
The leftovers are refrigerated
I’ll recline and relax in repose
Merry, Merry Christmas
The holiday guests are all gone
They have returned to their homes…
I pull a blanket to my chin as I yawn.
12/26/07
poem by Theresa Ann Moore
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The Corn-Stalk Fiddle
WHEN the corn's all cut and the bright stalks shine
Like the burnished spears of a field of gold;
When the field-mice rich on the nubbins dine,
And the frost comes white and the wind blows cold;
Then it's heigh-ho! fellows and hi-diddle-diddle,
For the time is ripe for the corn-stalk fiddle.
And when you take a stalk that is straight and long,
With an expert eye to its worthy points,
And you think of the bubbling strains of song
That are bound between its pithy joints —
Then you cut out strings, with a bridge in the middle,
With a corn-stalk bow for a corn-stalk fiddle.
Then the strains that grow as you draw the bow
O'er the yielding strings with a practiced hand!
And the music's flow never loud but low
Is the concert note of a fairy band.
Oh, your dainty songs are a misty riddle
To the simple sweets of a corn-stalk fiddle.
When the eve comes on, and our work is done,
And the sun drops down with a tender glance,
With their hearts all prime for the harmless fun,
Come the neighbor girls for the evening's dance,
And they wait for the well-known twist and twiddle —
More time than tune — from the corn-stalk fiddle.
Then brother Jabez takes the bow,
While Ned stands off with Susan Bland,
Then Henry stops by Milly Snow,
And John takes Nellie Jones's hand,
While I pair off with Mandy Biddle,
And scrape, scrape, scrape goes the corn-stalk fiddle.
'Salute your partners,' comes the call,
'All join hands and circle round,'
'Grand train back,' and 'Balance all,'
Footsteps lightly spurn the ground.
'Take your lady and balance down the middle'
To the merry strains of the corn-stalk fiddle.
So the night goes on and the dance is o'er,
And the merry girls are homeward gone,
But I see it all in my sleep once more,
And I dream till the very break of dawn
Of an impish dance on a red-hot griddle
To the screech and scrape of a corn-stalk fiddle.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Holiday
Well the super models in those magazines
They've been to places that I've never dreamed
Well they look so nice out on some sandy beach
But for me I've always found it out of reach
Ooooooooo take me on a holiday
Ooooooooo I need a holiday
The hotel and life for me would be alright
We could always catch an early mornin' flight
As you treat yourself like in a movie scene
But its just another place I've never been
Ooooooooo take me on a holiday
Ooooooooo I need a holiday
I call you up on your telephone
And leave a message there since your not home
I've got to go I've got to get away
Please come and take me on a holiday
Ooooooooo take me on a holiday
Last nite I dreamed I was in Sante Fe
And then went on a flight to San Jose
Well I know that you don't really like to fly
But to see the world maybe you'd like to try
Ooooooooo take me on a holiday
Ooooooooo I need a holiday
Ooooooooo take me on a holiday
Need a holiday
Holiday
Holiday
Holiday
song performed by by April Wine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Syrinx
Pan's Syrinx was a girl indeed,
Though now she's turned into a reed;
From that dear reed Pan's pipe does come,
A pipe that strikes Apollo dumb;
Nor flute, nor lute, nor gittern can
So chant it as the pipe of Pan:
Cross-gartered swains and dairy girls,
With faces smug and round as pearls,
When Pan's shrill pipe begins to play,
With dancing wear out night and day;
The bagpipe's drone his hum lays by,
When Pan sounds up his minstrelsy;
His minstrelsy! O base! this quill,
Which at my mouth with wind I fill,
Puts me in mind, though her I miss,
That still my Syrinx' lips I kiss.
Merry, Cherry and Strawberry
There was A big hairy man who had wife called Merry
merry and the hairy man had a farm of strawberry
once upon a day, a government came to the farm
merry an the man gets a big alarm
the farm was sealed and berries served for meal
the man get sad
merry get so mad
their life falls down
they luck was drown
the man hadn't chance
the death beat him a lance
but merry was scary
not like a little fairy
she did all the hard
to make a nice bomb
his name was cherry
so fears to be fairy
she put on the Court
she just said to lord
'Hello dear lord, hear is merry with a bomb called cherry
there is no more strawberry'
poem by Dariel Grey
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Sonnet I: Like an Advent'rous Seafarer
Like an advent'rous seafarer am I,
Who hath some long and dang'rous voyage been,
And, call'd to tell of his discovery,
How far he sail'd, what countries he had seen;
Proceeding from the port whence he put forth,
Shows by his compass how his course he steer'd,
When East, when West, when South, and when by North,
As how the Pole to every place was rear'd,
What capes he doubled, of what Continent,
The gulfs and straits that strangely he had past,
Where most becalm'd, where with foul weather spent,
And on what rocks in peril to be cast:
Thus in my love, Time calls me to relate
My tedious travels and oft-varying fate.
poem by Michael Drayton
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The Little HandMaiden
The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
He little knows for his toil and care,
That the bride is gone and the bower is bare.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
The sun shines bright through the casement high-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
The little handmaid, with a laughing eye,
Looks down on the king's son, strolling by.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
'He little knows that the bride is gone,
And the Earl knows little as he;
She is fled with her lover afar last night
And the King's son is left to me.'
And back to her chamber with velvety step
The little handmaid did glide,
And a gold key took from her bosom sweet,
And opened the great chests wide.
She bound her hair with a band of blue,
And a garland of lilies sweet;
And put on her delicate silken shoes,
With roses at her feet.
She clad her body in spotless white,
With a girdle as red as blood.
The glad white raiment her beauty bound,
As the sepels blind the bud.
And round and round her white neck she flung
A necklace of sapphires blue;
On one white finger of either hand
A shining ring she drew.
And down the stairway and out of the door
She glided, as soft and light,
As an airy tuft of a thistle seed
Might glide through the grasses bright.
And into the garden sweet she stole-
The little birds carolled loud-
Her beauty shone as a star might shine
In the rift of the morning cloud.
The King's son walked in the garden fair,
And the little handmaiden came,
Through the midst of a shimmer of roses red,
Like a sunbeam through a flame.
The King's son marvelled, his heart leaped up,
'And art thou my bride?' said he,
'For, North or South, I have never beheld
A lovelier maid than thee.'
'And dost thou love me?' the little maid cried,
'A fine King's son, I wis!'
And the king's son took her with both his hands,
And her ruddy lips did kiss.
And the little maid laughed till the beaded tears,
Ran down in a silver rain.
'O foolish King's son!' and she clapped her hands,
Till the gold rings rang again.
'O King's son, foolish and fooled art thou,
For a goodly game is played:
Thy bride is away with her lover last night,
And I am her little handmaid.'
And the King's son sware a great oath, said he-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
'If the Earl's fair daughter a traitress be,
The little handmaid is enough for me.'
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
The King's son walks in the garden fair-
Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!
And the little handmaiden walketh there,
But the old Earl pulleth his beard for care.
Put on garments of white, my maidens!
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Venus in the Garden
'Twas at early morning,
The dawn was blushing in her purple bed,
When in a sweet, embowered garden
She, the fairest of the goddesses,
The lovely Venus,
Roamed amongst the roses white and red.
She sought for flowers
To make a garland
For her golden head.
Snow-white roses, blood-red roses,
In that sweet garden close,
Offered incense to the goddess:
Both the white and the crimson rose.
White roses, red roses, blossoming:
But the fair Venus knew
The crimson roses had gained their hue
From the hearts that for love had bled;
And the goddess made a garland
Gathered from the roses red.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
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