Cheese from the ewe, milk from the goat, butter from the cow.
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Religious Nature
Why do you sleep when time has finished,
And cheese is a food for the sheep to make,
For the cheese asyouknow can bind you;
For cheese is recommended more than milk
And milk is what religion transmitted and given,
To forget and forgive the children say milk will be given,
As religion will thrive as regions of life can gain heaven.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Auld Wife
PART I
The auld wife sat at her ivied door,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
A thing she had frequently done before;
And her spectacles lay on her apron’d knees.
The piper he pip’d on the hill-top high,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
Till the cow said, “I die,” and the goose asked “Why?”
And the dog said nothing, but search’d for fleas.
The farmer he strode through the square farmyard;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
His last brew of ale was a trifle hard,
The connection of which with the plot one sees.
The farmer’s daughter hath frank blue eyes;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
She hears the rooks caw in the windy skies,
As she sits at her lattice and shells her peas.
The farmer’s daughter hath ripe red lips;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
If you try to approach her away she skips
Over tables and chairs with apparent ease.
The farmer’s daughter hath soft brown hair;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And I met with a ballad, I can’t say where,
Which wholly consisted of lines like these.
PART II
She sat with her hands ’neath her dimpled cheeks,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And spake not a word. While a lady speaks
There is hope, but she did n’t even sneeze.
She sat with her hands ’neath her crimson cheeks;
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
She gave up mending her father’s breeks,
And let the cat roll in her best chemise.
She sat with her hands ’neath her burning cheeks,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And gaz’d at the piper for thirteen weeks;
Then she follow’d him out o’er the misty leas.
Her sheep follow’d her, as their tails did them,
(Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese)
And this song is consider’d a perfect gem;
And as to the meaning, it ’s what you please.
poem by Charles Stuart Calverley
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Father Ranney, the Cheese Pioneer
When Father Ranney left the States,
In Canada to try the fates,
He settled down in Dereham,
Then no dairyman lived near him;
He was the first there to squeeze
His cow's milk into good cheese,
And at each Provincial show
His famed cheese was all the go.
Then long life to Father Ranney
May he wealth and honour gain aye.
He always took the first prize
Both for quality and size,
But many of his neighbors
Now profit by his labors,
And the ladies dress in silk
From the proceeds of the milk,
But those who buy their butter,
How dear it is, they mutter.
Then long life to Father Ranney
May he wealth and honour gain aye.
Now we close this glorious theme,
This song of curds and rich cream,
You can buy your hoops and screws,
And all supplies for dairy use,
Milk cans and vats, all things like these
In Ingersoll great mart for cheese,
Here buyers do congregate
And pay for cheese the highest rate.
So we call on you again aye,
To honor Father Ranney.
poem by James McIntyre
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For the very best, drink milk from the goat, ricotta from the sheep and cheese from the cow.
To the fiancT -- milk; to the bride -- butter; to the husband -- cheese.
Dairy Ode
Our muse it doth refuse to sing
Of cheese made early in the spring,
When cows give milk from spring fodder
You cannot make a good cheddar.
The quality is often vile
Of cheese that is made in April,
Therefore we think for that reason
You should make later in the season.
Cheese making you should delay
Until about the first of May.
Then cows do feed on grassy field
And rich milk they abundant yield.
Ontario cannot compete
With the Northwest in raising wheat,
For cheaper there they it can grow
So price in future may be low.
Though this a hardship it may seem,
Rejoice that you have got the cream,
In this land of milk and honey,
Where dairy farmers do make money.
Utensils must be clean and sweet,
So cheese with first class can compete,
And daily polish up milk pans,
Take pains with vats and with milk cans.
And it is important matter
To allow no stagnant water,
But water from pure well or stream
The cow must drink to give pure cream.
Canadian breeds 'tis best to pair
With breeds from the shire of Ayr,
They thrive on our Canadian feed
And are for milking splendid breed.
Though 'gainst spring cheese some do mutter,
Yet spring milk also makes bad butter,
Then there doth arise the query
How to utilize it in the dairy.
The milk it floats in great spring flood
Though it is not so rich and good,
Let us be thankful for this stream
Of milk and also curds and cream.
All dairymen their highest aims
Should be to make the vale of Thames,
Where milk doth so abundant flow,
Dairyland of Ontario.
poem by James McIntyre
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635 Milk The Elixir Of Life
MILK - One of God's preciuos gifts
For all who seek to live
Of all the food that passes lips
This has the most to give.
And when we from our Mothers feed
Her milk provides our every need.
The milk of cows and goats and sheep
Sustains us in our later life
An elixir before we sleep
It calms our nerves and eases strife
What is the secret of this stuff
Milkaholics just can't get enuff.
We know that milk is mostly water
There's almost eighty eight percent
There's protein - fat and carbohydrate
And calcium to give bones strength.
Drinka - Pinta - Milka - Day
It sure will help you on your way.
Full-fat milk makes ladies fertile
And it tastes much nicer too
Leave the skimmed milk for the slimmers
While you enjoy your creamy goo.
Jersey Milk has FIVE POINT THREE
Fresian much less - Oh dear me! ! !
Milk is a rich source of vitamins
A and D and E and K
Lactose gives our milk its sweetness
Drinka - Pinta - Milka - Day.
Drinking milk instead of coffee
Keeps you calm and much less stroppy.
Natural milk is prone to curdle
So we have to Pasteurise
Killing all the dee-dum-durdle
Homogenise and Sterilise.
When next in't Country - it's my vow
To drink my milk straight from the cow! ! !
Milk provides a range of products
Cream - Butter - Cheese and Yoghurt too
Without which life would be much poorer
No Camembert or Danish Blue.
When our palates we would please
We judge a country by its Cheese.
I'll sing the praise of English Cheeses
Cheddar - Cheshire - Wenslydale
Lancahire and Regal Stilton
From pastures lush in Leicester Vale.
Christmastime with Port & Stilton
In Terraced House or at the Hilton.
My 'Ode to Milk' is not complete
Without a mention of 'Best Butter'
'Farmhouse' from the pasture sweet
The taste? 'A Pastoral Ode by Rutter'.
And never let me utter words obscene
Unsaturated Fats and tatseless Margarine.
poem by John Knight
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Sweety Butter Milk
Take butter
Milk...
200 ml
Added sugar
40 mg
Take shake
With butter milk
Shake with shake...
Twenty times
Added ice tube's...
Enjoy too drink...
It is hot summer
Sweety butter milk...
With cool...cool...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Lactose Intolerant
I lack the enzymes
To properly digest lactose
I cant drink cows milk
I cant drink milk from a goat
Yogurt, cottage cheese
Make me throw up
Please no cream in my cup
My stomach is swelling
I am lactose --- intolerant
My throat is constricting
I am lactose --- intolerant
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look at the average American diet: ice cream, butter, cheese, whole milk, all this fat. People don't realize how much of this stuff you get by the end of the day. High blood pressure is from all this high-fat eating.
quote by Jack LaLanne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Facts About Cheese
When the price of cheese was so low a few years ago that the
dairymen seriously thought of giving up the manufacture
of cheese and of selling their cows, we published the fol-
lowing lines and distributed them by the thousand :
Price soon will rise, though now 'tis low,
And brooks of milk will onward flow ;
Were it collected in one stream
There would be floods of milk and cream.
Mr. T. D. Millar has just secured, Sept., 1884, the first prize for cheese at the great
cheese fair at Amsterdam, Holland. They weighed over 600 pounds each, and were
manufactured by the Burnside Factory of Dorchester. The Galloway Factory is manufacturing
several cheese weighing one ton each. The mammoth cheese, alluded to in cheese ode,
was manufactured by Mr. James Harris, Ingersoll Factory. The Dnnn Cheese Factory, North
Oxford, secured first prize at the great Centennial Exhibition, but where all factories
produce such excellent cheese perhaps it would be making invidious distinctions to specify
the honours won by any particular factory. The West Oxford Company have recently built a
fine factory on the Culloden Road.
poem by James McIntyre
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Hymn to the Dairymaids on Beacon Street
Sweetly solemn see them stand,
Spinning churns on either hand,
Neatly capped and aproned white
Airy fairy dairy sight.
Jersey priestesses they seem
Miracling milk to cream.
Cream solidifies to cheese
By Pasteural mysteries,
And they give, within their shrine,
Their communión in kine.
Incantations pure they mutter
O'er the golden minted butter
And (no layman hand can pen it)
See them gloat above their rennet.
By that hillside window pane
Rugged teamsters draw the rein.
Doff the battered hat and bow
To these acolytes of cow.
Genuflect, ye passersby!
Muse upon their ritual high-
Milk to cream, yea, cream to cheese
White lacteal mysteries!
Let adorers sing the word
Of the smoothly flowing curd.
Yea, we sing with bells and fife
This is the whey, this is the Life.
poem by Christopher Morley
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Butter
Pull me from the toaster
Straight into the roaster
Fill my head with the stuff
Brightest dreams are made of
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
Promising the big guns
Reward when the light comes
Screaming from the damage done
Screaming from the damage done
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up like I know you will
Cover it up like I know you will
Better yourself like I know you will
Breaking the trust like you always will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Be good for it, you never will
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Butter me up, butter me up
Duh
So you think you got the best
Thought I was like all the rest
Reaping from the damage done
Reaping from the damage done
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Bringing me down again
Duh
song performed by by Ultraspank
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ode To Cheese
☺ .
Ode To Cheese,
Which Makes Us Smile,
When Camera's go Clack.
Ode To Cheese,
Which make us taste,
The greatest of flavors, the wackiest of whack.
Ode To Cheese,
Blue, Gorgonzola,
American and Cheddar.
Ode To Cheese,
Beja and Feta,
In all types of weather.
Ode To Cheese,
For those on a diet,
or trying to get fatter.
Ode To Cheese,
with crackers and wine,
with grapes can flatter.
Ode To Cheese,
when you're sad and happy,
Cheese just fits.
Ode To Cheese,
Mountains and Mountains,
or bits and bits.
Ode to the Cheese,
To appreciate,
eat,
and take pictures.
Do not try to cook the goat's young in the goat's milk.
The Coolun
Come with me, under my coat,
And we will drink our fill
Of the milk of the white goat,
Or wine, if it be thy will;
And we will talk until
Talk is a truble, too,
Out in the side of the hill,
And nothing is left to do,
But an eye to look into an eye
And a hand in a hand to slip,
And a sigh to answer a sigh,
And a lip to find out a lip:
What if the night be black
And the air on the mountain chill,
Where the goat lies down in her track
And all but the fern is still!
Stay with me under my coat,
And we will drink our fill
Of the milk of the white goat
Out on the side of the hill.
poem by James Stephens
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Oxford Cheese Makers Song
When Father Ranney left the States
In Canada to try the fates,
He settled down in Dereham,
Then no dairyman lived near him.
He was the first there to squeeze
His cows milk into good cheese,
And at each Provincial Show
His famed cheese was all the go.
CHORUS.
Then long life to Father Ranney,
May he wealth and honor gain, aye !
He always took the first prize,
Both for quality and size ;
But many of his neighbors
Now profit by his labors.
And the ladies dress in silk
From the proceeds of the milk :
But those who buy their butter,
' How dear it is,' they mutter.
CHORUS.
Then long life to Father Ranney,
May he his health retain, aye !
Farmers now can not be beat
With their cheese and their wheat,
Though now their greatest care is
For to watch o'er their dairies ;
They carefully fill their mows
With provender for their cows,
And they thus enrich the soil
With much profit for their toil.
CHORUS.
We will sing this refrain, aye,
Long life to Father Ranney.
The motto, 'Union is Strength,'
Is carried out at length
In the most compact array
At every cheese factory.
You'll see without going as far as
There is one kept by Harris,
The factory of Ingersoll,
Just out at the first toll.
CHORUS.
May he never suffer pain, aye,
The father of cheesemen, Ranney.
Or you may go all the way
To see one kept by Galloway,
And out in the Norwiches
Dairymen are making riches;
And honor has been won
By Harvey Farrington ;
The same path is trodden
By folks about Culloden.
CHORUS.
May his strength never wane, aye,
The great dairyman, Ranney.
And of late we saw some
Very good cheese from Lawson ;
All around Mount Elgin
Dairymen have well done;
And out in East Nissouri
They make some scores a day ;
From Jarvis and Elliott
Some good cheese is bought.
CHORUS
And we will all remain, aye,
Indebted to Father Ranney.
Now we close this glorious theme,
This song of curds and rich cream,
Subject worthy of our muse,
You can buy your hoops and screws,
Boxes and vats, all things like these,
In Ingersoll, great mart for cheese ;
Here buyers all do congregate,
And pay for cheese the highest rate.
CHORUS.
So we call on you again, aye,
To honor Father Ranney.
poem by James McIntyre
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No matter how much milk a cow has, you cannot milk butter from it.
Butter Up
Butter up,
If you want to keep me weak and numb.
Butter up,
If you want to be my number one.
Butter up,
If you want to have the weekends done,
With nothing but a loving and done with fun.
Butter up,
If you want to keep me weak and numb.
Butter up,
If you want to be my number one.
Butter up,
If you want to have the weekends done,
With nothing but a loving and done with fun.
And when Monday begins,
We'll have those memories...
To keep!
Butter up!
Butter up!
Butter up, butter up, butter up, butter up!
Butter up...
If you want to keep me weak and numb.
Butter up,
If you want to be my number one.
Butter up,
If you want to have the weekends done,
With nothing but a buttering done with fun.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Milkcow Calf Blues
(Robert Johnson)
Tell me, milk cow, what on earth is wrong with you?
Tell me, milk cow, what on earth is wrong with you?
Well, well, you have a new calf, hoo hoo, and your milk is turnin' blue
Your calf is hungry, and I believe he needs a suck
[Spoken:] Now, you know that calf done got hungry
Your calf is hungry, and I believe he needs a suck
Well, now, but the milk is turnin' blue, hoo hoo, and I believe he's outta luck
Now I feel like milkin' and my, cow won't come
I feel like churnin' it and my, milk won't turn
I'm cryin' plea-hease, please, don't do me wrong
You can give-a right milk and butter, now, baby, you-hoo, will stay at home
My milk cow been ramblin', hoo hoo, for miles around
My milk cow been ramblin', hoo hoo, for miles around
She been troublin' some other bull cow, hoo hoo
Lord, in this man's town
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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