Robert of Lincoln
Merrily swinging on brier and weed,
Near to the nest of his little dame,
Over the mountain-side or mead,
Robert of Lincoln is telling his name.
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Snug and safe is this nest of ours,
Hidden among the summer flowers.
Chee, chee, chee.
Robert of Lincoln is gayly dressed,
Wearing a bright, black wedding-coat;
White are his shoulders, and white his crest,
Hear him call in his merry note,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Look what a nice, new coat is mine;
Sure there was never a bird so fine.
Chee, chee, chee.
Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife,
Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings,
Passing at home a patient life,
Broods in the grass while her husband sings,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Brood, kind creature, you need not fear
Thieves and robbers while I am here.
Chee, chee, chee.
Modest and shy as a nun is she;
One weak chirp is her only note;
Braggart, and prince of braggarts is he,
Pouring boasts from his little throat,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Never was I afraid of man,
Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can.
Chee, chee, chee.
Six white eggs on a bed of hay,
Flecked with purple, a pretty sight:
There as the mother sits all day,
Robert is singing with all his might,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Nice good wife that never goes out,
Keeping house while I frolic about.
Chee, chee, chee.
Soon as the little ones chip the shell,
Six wide mouths are open for food;
Robert of Lincoln bestirs him well,
Gathering seeds for the hungry brood:
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
This new life is likely to be
Hard for a gay young fellow like me.
Chee, chee, chee.
Robert of Lincoln at length is made
Sober with work, and silent with care,
Off is his holiday garment laid,
Half forgotten that merry air,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
Nobody knows but my mate and I,
Where our nest and our nestlings lie.
Chee, chee, chee.
Summer wanes; the children are grown;
Fun and frolic no more he knows;
Robert of Lincoln's a hum-drum drone;
Off he flies, and we sing as he goes,
Bob-o'-link, bob-o'-link,
Spink, spank, spink,
When you can pipe that merry old strain,
Robert of Lincoln, come back again.
Chee, chee, chee.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
Donn Piatt Of Mac-O-Chee
Donn Piatt--of Mac-o-chee,--
Not the one of History,
Who, with flaming tongue and pen,
Scathes the vanities of men;
Not the one whose biting wit
Cuts pretense and etches it
On the brazen brow that dares
Filch the laurel that it wears:
Not the Donn Piatt whose praise
Echoes in the noisy ways
Of the faction, onward led
By the statesman!--But, instead,
Give the simple man to me,--
Donn Piatt of Mac-o-chee!
II.
Donn Piatt of Mac-o-chee!
Branches of the old oak tree,
Drape him royally in fine
Purple shade and golden shine!
Emerald plush of sloping lawn
Be the throne he sits upon!
And, O Summer sunset, thou
Be his crown, and gild a brow
Softly smoothed and soothed and calmed
By the breezes, mellow-palmed
As Erata's white hand agleam
On the forehead of a dream.--
So forever rule o'er me,
Donn Piatt of Mac-o-chee!
III.
Donn Piatt of Mac-o-chee:
Through a lilied memory
Plays the wayward little creek
Round thy home at hide-and-seek--
As I see and hear it, still
Romping round the wooded hill,
Till its laugh-and-babble blends
With the silence while it sends
Glances back to kiss the sight,
In its babyish delight,
Ere it strays amid the gloom
Of the glens that burst in bloom
Of the rarest rhyme for thee,
Donn Piatt of Mac-o-chee!
IV.
Donn Piatt of Mac-o-chee!
What a darling destiny
Has been mine--to meet him there--
Lolling in an easy chair
On the terrace, while he told
Reminiscences of old--
Letting my cigar die out,
Hearing poems talked about;
And entranced to hear him say
Gentle things of Thackeray,
Dickens, Hawthorne, and the rest,
Known to him as host and guest--
Known to him as he to me--
Donn Piatt of Mac-o-chee!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Tee Nine Chee Bit
Maurice white, charles stepney & philip bailey
I been tusslin in my bed, not with
Her, but the pillow instead. do I got to
Beg and plead for no woman to make
Love to me. just a wee bit of her time
Said, I need somebody I can call all mine.
We aint got to push a shove
Give me just a tee nine chee bit of your love.
(repeat)
She got me walkin, in my stocking feet-
To watch her dress up, is my only treat
Spend all my money, and it goes to her
What more woman, youre gonna get me rough.
My head is itchin needs a rub
Even scratched my back on the side of the tub-
Give me just a tee nine chee bit of your love.
(repeat: out)
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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May You Always Be
May you always be in every way
a part of me, a sister, friend I pray
May you find your dreams beyond the sunset
And sing a song and hear the softest heart beat
May I be your wings that you can fly,
be with me in rough sailing, low and high.
To touch, to listen, to love, to laugh, to cry
and on your shoulder, be your strength and hear you sigh.
May you shine and sparkle like a diamond
A petal, a flower that blooms too soon
A flicker in a lighted candle
the tiny curve of the crescent moon.
And…may you always be a blessing to others..
And my friend forever
***Inspired by Chee Chee Martin ***
a poem dedicated to my friend, SANDRA MARTYRS
poem by Meggie Gultiano
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Merry Sportsmen
'Arry an' me is bits of sports;
When the summer comes around
We gits our sweaters an' guns an' shorts
An' we seeks out 'untin' ground.
Tennis an' 'ikin' we reckons tame;
So we shuns the cissy push
An' goes in more for a 'e-man sport
Shootin', out in the bush.
Week-end 'fore last we 'ad some fun
Close up to a record day;
For a real good bag fell to each gun
Pea-rific, that's to say.
But the gem of it all was that darn fool bird
I got while 'e's 'avin' a barf
At the edge of a pool. 'E looked absurd.
Chee! 'Arry an' me did larf!
By lunch I'd potted a decent bag:
Three parrots, a thrush an' a jack,
An' 'Arry, two wrens an' a lark an' a mag.
Then we camps at a creek near the track;
When up comes a coot in a rig absurd
Wot talks like some bug-'untin' fool.
But 'Arry sez, ''Ist!' An' 'e points to a bird
Wot is 'avin' a barf at a pool.
'Wot a charmin' pitcher!' this strange bloke said,
But I ups with me gun in a jiff
An', jist as the dicky-bird's duckin' 'is 'ead,
I skittles the beggar stiff.
Well, you should 'a' seen 'ow this strange bloke gapes:
Lip like a motherless colt.
An' eyes stickin' out like a couple o' grapes.
Chee! 'Arry an' me did larf!
'E goggles a bit, then 'e goes orf pop,
But we're two to 'is one, so we smiles.
Then he threatens to give us in charge to a cop.
Fat chance! There ain't one in miles!
Red robin it was. If you only 'ad seen!
Real trustful-like, 'avin' 'is barf,
When - Plunk! An' 'is blood spurts over the green.
Chee! Arry an' me did larf!
I can't stop larfin' whenever I think
Of that comedy there by the creek.
Singin' robin 'e was with a breast all pink.
(We are goin' again nex' week.)
There 'e was, splashin' all over the place,
When I darn near blows 'im in 'arf.
An' if you'd saw the look on that strange cove's face!
Chee! 'Arry an' me did larf!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am who I am, You are who you are, So, be who you are, not what you are.
quote by Teo Chee Huen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twice Times
There were Two Little Bears who lived in a Wood,
And one of them was Bad and the other was Good.
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times One -
But Bad Bear left all his buttons undone.
They lived in a Tree when the weather was hot,
And one of them was Good, and the other was Not.
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Two -
But Bad Bear's thingummies were worn right through.
They lived in a Cave when the weather was cold,
And they Did, and they Didn't Do, what they were told.
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Three -
But Bad Bear never had his hand-ker-chee.
They lived in the Wood with a Kind Old Aunt,
And one said 'Yes'm,' and the other said 'Shan't!'
Good Bear learnt his Twice Times Four -
But Bad Bear's knicketies were terrible tore.
And then quite suddenly (just like Us)
One got Better and the other got Wuss.
Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Three -
But Bad Bear coughed in his hand-ker-chee!
Good Bear muddled his Twice Times Two -
But Bad Bear's thingummies looked like new.
Good Bear muddled his Twice Times One -
But Bad Bear never left his buttons undone.
There may be a Moral, though some say not;
I think there's a moral, though I don't know what.
But if one gets better, as the other gets wuss,
These Two Little Bears are just like Us.
For Christopher remembers up to Twice Times Ten ...
But I keep forgetting where I put my pen.*
* So I have had to write this one in pencil.
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Carol Of The Bells
Hark! how the bells, sweet silver bells
All seem to say, throw cares away
Christmas is here, bringing good cheer
To young and old, meek and the bold
Ding dongy dong, that is their song
With joyful ring, all carolling
One seems to hear, words of good cheer
From everywhere, filling the air
Oh, how they pound, raising their sound
O'er here and there, telling their tail
Gaily they ri-ing, while people si-ing
Songs of good chee-eer, christmas is here
Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas
Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas
Come, on they send, on without end
Their joyful tone, to every home
Hark! how the bells, sweet silver bells
All seem to say, throw cares away-ay-ay-ay-ay
Christmas is here, bringing good cheer
To young and old, meek and the bold
Ding dongy dong, that is their song
With joyful ring, all carolling
One seems to hear, words of good cheer
From everywhere, filling the air
O, how they pound, raising their sound
O'er here and there, telling their tail
Gaily they ri-ing, while people si-ing
Songs of good chee-eer, christmas is here
Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas
Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas
Come, on they send, on without end
Their joyful tone, to every home
Hark! how the bells, sweet silver bells
All seem to say, throw cares away-ay-ay-ay
Hallelujah
Hallelujah - Christmas is here-ere-ere
Hallelujah - Christmas is here-ere-ere
Hallelujah - Christmas is here-ere-ere
Hallelujah - Christmas is here-ere-ere
Hallelujah - Christmas is here-ere-ere
Hallelujah - Christmas is here-ere-ere
Hallelujah - Christmas is here-ere-ere
Hallelujah - Christmas is here-ere-ere [fade]
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life-force
I sit and ponder
near the window of my soul,
of all that my eyes see,
but what is blind to all.
The tapestry of colour,
which reflects the inner me.
That thing the Chinese refer to as chee.
Everyone has got it,
but not everyone can see.
They are blind to the fact,
of our energy held within.
The force of all creation,
our hidden energy within.
So powerful when harnessed,
can heal our mortal bodies,
from disease ridden control.
Giving our mind strengths,
we thought we never had.
15-16 June 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mother's Day [trailer 2]
Britt Robertson, Jennifer Aniston, Kate Hudson, Julia Roberts, Timothy Olyphant, Jason Sudeikis, Brandon Spink, Sarah Chalke, Shay Mitchell, Christine Lakin
from Mother's Day (2016)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To link
Necessary to link
All weather connectivity
To link telling truth
Always is a must
Only by telling truth
Always the tongue get
True taste.
Camel may enter
In to the hole of
The needle
Unless one tell truth
It is not possible
To escape from this
Worldly bond.
Be srtaight
Be steady
Be firm
Be truthful
All weather connectivity
Is open with you
And link open.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All good poetry is forged slowly and patiently, link by link, with sweat and blood and tears.
quote by Alfred Douglas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love's Vicissitudes
AS Love and Hope together
Walk by me for a while,
Link-armed the ways they travel
For many a pleasant mile -
Link-armed and dumb they travel,
They sing not, but they smile.
Hope leaving, Love commences
To practise on the lute;
And as he sings and travels
With lingering, laggard foot,
Despair plays obligato
The sentimental flute.
Until in singing garments
Comes royally, at call -
Comes limber-hipped Indiff'rence
Free stepping, straight and tall -
Comes singing and lamenting,
The sweetest pipe of all.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prisoner
Long I fought the driving lists,
Plume a-stream and armor clanging;
Link on link, between my wrists,
Now my heavy freedom's hanging.
poem by Dorothy Parker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Infidelity
I love you all
not the way you think
I still love my wife
my missing link
a link that binds time and pain
a friend to share tears
this will always remain
the deepest feelings that come from within
even though fooling around with you
is a mortal sin
poem by Matt Mondschein
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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It's not difficult in South Africa for the ordinary person to see the link between capitalism and racist exploitation, and when one sees the link one immediately thinks in terms of a socialist alternative.
The Woodlark
Teevo cheevo cheevio chee:
O where, what can tháat be?
Weedio-weedio: there again!
So tiny a trickle of sóng-strain;
And all round not to be found
For brier, bough, furrow, or gréen ground
Before or behind or far or at hand
Either left either right
Anywhere in the súnlight.
Well, after all! Ah but hark—
‘I am the little wóodlark.
. . . . . . . .
To-day the sky is two and two
With white strokes and strains of the blue
. . . . . . . .
Round a ring, around a ring
And while I sail (must listen) I sing
. . . . . . . .
The skylark is my cousin and he
Is known to men more than me
. . . . . . . .
…when the cry within
Says Go on then I go on
Till the longing is less and the good gone
But down drop, if it says Stop,
To the all-a-leaf of the tréetop
And after that off the bough
. . . . . . . .
I ám so véry, O soó very glad
That I dó thínk there is not to be had…
. . . . . . . .
The blue wheat-acre is underneath
And the braided ear breaks out of the sheath,
The ear in milk, lush the sash,
And crush-silk poppies aflash,
The blood-gush blade-gash
Flame-rash rudred
Bud shelling or broad-shed
Tatter-tassel-tangled and dingle-a-dangled
Dandy-hung dainty head.
. . . . . . . .
And down … the furrow dry
Sunspurge and oxeye
And laced-leaved lovely
Foam-tuft fumitory
. . . . . . . .
Through the velvety wind V-winged
To the nest’s nook I balance and buoy
With a sweet joy of a sweet joy,
Sweet, of a sweet, of a sweet joy
Of a sweet—a sweet—sweet—joy.’
poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Criminal Doesn't Know When To Stop
-a proverb of the dead of Avalon Cemetery
(In Memory Of The Victims Of Mindless Violence)
You see my brada those smart
Looking smug faced white nonatjies
Rich women bro' neh each
One of them carries a scar
Of humiliation in their hearts
And they know it he he he...
Ek se this is a black man's country
We rob the white ousies every night
We rape them day light nine nine brahs
Djy sien it's easy groot mahn since well
Ons chee ddi garden boy the tjotjo
And we sommer kill the kitchen meit
And ons ginger ddi miesies en ddi kitchen meit
We kill her and sell her heart to the witchdoctors
It makes good medicine to bring good luck
Ons es min geworry because ons
Vortel ddi gatas ddi blokom and the majiyane
Lies to the magistrate and we're out
Ha ha ha
Now the three R's you see there budah...
Rose is a Catholic she won't tell
Rebeca es gekatzenloerie mot a teacher
Hau how can she tell the rubbish
Rose is married to the boepons preacher
Neh! neh my mother's child she won't tell
We rape the white women not caring what
Their husbands will do because we know
Because they don't want to lose their marriages
This is a black man's country
And we kill their dogs and their servants
And then we gang rape the white women and stick
Broken beer bottles in their bleeding poenankies
And we take every thing and we live
And you my brother I am going to initiate you
Tonight we attack the shop of the mememe and then
You see that Susana is the woman for you and we
Will help you and you will rape but remember
She is not your wife to be so you must work fast
And when you satisfied you must stick the broken
Beer bottle in her poenankie remember the last act
Is a crucial part of the initiation of into
The life of a lawbreaker and a fugitive from justice
Here.Touch my blood.Shake my hand you're part
And parcel of this underground outfit'he says
I take the empty beer bottle and smash it
Into his grinning face and I must admit that sometimes
It hurts to be a black man in South Afrca without
Being ashamed of the color of your skin every time
You hear of an outrage of a crime of mindless being
Committed anywhere in our country but we have become
Too used to criminality and corruption and have you
Seen how brazen our criminal politicians have become?
Ann maybe you too my brother would feel nothing
If some idiot armed with a nice broken bottle attacks
Your favorite sister and rapes her in broad day light
But if somebody wants to make love to my wife he better
Find her in the right mood because she is
Armed And Dangerous
GLOSSARY
Avalon.....The largest cemetery in Africa
nonatjies...term of fake respect for a white woman
ek se...I say
ousies...ladies
djy sien....you see
groot mahn....big brother
ons chee ddi...we give the
garden boy...a male worker at the property of the white people who must
maintain and keep the place tidy
sommer.......just
kitchen meit...a domestic worker
ons ginger die miesies...we rape the white woman
en ddi kitchen meit...and the domestic worker as well
ons es min geworry....we are not bothered/we don't care
tjotjo...a bribe
ons vortel ddi gatas ddi blokom...we lie to the police
majiyane...a lawyer
bbudah...term of endearment/fondness
gekatzenlorie mot...married to
hau! exlamation of surprise
poenankies...the female sexual organ
poem by Ngaka Motaung
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am ever mindful of the legacy of my grandfather, the founder of this Kingdom, who had said to me that he perceived his life as a link in a continuous chain of those who served our nation and that he expected me to be a new and strong link in the same chain.
quote by King Hussein I
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Among peoples who are geographically grouped together like the peoples of Europe there must exist a sort of federal link. It is this link which I wish to endeavour to establish.
quote by Aristide Briand
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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