May Colven
False Sir John a wooing came
To a maid of beauty fair;
May Colven was this lady's name,
Her father's only heir.
He wood her butt, he wood her ben,
He wood her in the ha,
Until he got this lady's consent
To mount and ride awa.
He went down to her father's bower,
Where all the steeds did stand,
And he's taken one of the best steeds
That was in her father's land.
He's got on and she's got on,
As fast as they could flee,
Until they came to a lonesome part,
A rock by the side of the sea.
'Loup off the steed,' says false Sir John,
'Your bridal bed you see;
For I have drowned seven young ladies,
The eighth one you shall be.
'Cast off, cast off, my May Colven,
All and your silken gown,
For it's oer good and oer costly
To rot in the salt sea foam.
'Cast off, cast off, my May Colven.
All and your embroiderd shoen,
For oer good and oer costly
To rot in the salt sea foam.'
'O turn you about, O false Sir John,
And look to the leaf of the tree,
For it never became a gentleman
A naked woman to see.'
He turned himself straight round about,
To look to the leaf of the tree,
So swift as May Colven was
To throw him in the sea.
'O help, O help, my May Colven,
O help, or else I'll drown;
I'll take you home to your father's bower,
And set you down safe and sound.'
'No help, no help, O false Sir John,
No help, nor pity thee;
Tho' seven kings' daughters you have drownd,
But the eighth shall not be me.'
So she went on her father's steed,
As swift as she could flee,
And she came home to her father's bower
Before it was break of day.
Up then and spoke the pretty parrot:
'May Colven, where have you been?
What has become of false Sir John,
That woo'd you so late the streen?
'He woo'd you butt, he woo'd you ben,
He woo'd you in the ha,
Until he got your own consent
For to mount and gang awa.'
'O hold your tongue, my pretty parrot,
Lay not the blame upon me;
Your cup shall be of the flowered gold,
Your cage of the root of the tree.'
Up then spake the king himself,
In the bed-chamber where he lay:
'What ails the pretty parrot,
That prattles so long or day?'
'There came a cat to my cage door,
It almost a worried me,
And I was calling on May Colven
To take the cat from me.'
poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Young Knight
Joseph Hathaway, Charles Kingsley
Down deary down
There was a knight and he was young a-riding along the way Sir
And there he met a lady fair among the stacks of hay Sir
Down deary down
Quote he shall you and I, Lady among the grass lay down oh
And I will take a special care of the rumpling of your gown oh
So she told him
If you will go along with me into my father's hall Sir
You shall enjoy my maiden's head and my estate and all Sir
Down deary down
So he mounted her on a milk white steed himself upon another
And then they rid upon the road like sister and like brother
Down deary down down deary down
And when they came to father's home all moulded all about Sir
She stepped straight within the gate and shut the young man out Sir
Down deary down
Here is a pursue of gold she said take it for your pain Sir
And I will send my father's men to go home with you again Sir
And if you meet a lady fair as you go by the town Sir
You must not fear the dewy grass or
The rumpling grass of her gown Sir
Down deary down down deary down
And if you meet a lady gay as you go by the hill Sir
Here is the moral of the story
If you will not when you may you shall not when you will Sir
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Knight
Joseph hathaway, charles kingsley
Down deary down
There was a knight and he was young a-riding along the way sir
And there he met a lady fair among the stacks of hay sir
Down deary down
Quote he shall you and i, lady among the grass lay down oh
And i will take a special care of the rumpling of your gown oh
So she told him
If you will go along with me into my father's hall sir
You shall enjoy my maiden's head and my estate and all sir
Down deary down
So he mounted her on a milk white steed himself upon another
And then they rid upon the road like sister and like brother
Down deary down down deary down
And when they came to father's home all moulded all about sir
She stepped straight within the gate and shut the young man out sir
Down deary down
Here is a pursue of gold she said take it for your pain sir
And i will send my father's men to go home with you again sir
And if you meet a lady fair as you go by the town sir
You must not fear the dewy grass or
The rumpling grass of her gown sir
Down deary down down deary down
And if you meet a lady gay as you go by the hill sir
Here is the moral of the story
If you will not when you may you shall not when you will sir
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Four Children
A Ballad of Good Intentions
Four children played by an old oak tree,
Big John and James and little Benjie,
And, threading a chain of daisies fine,
On the leaf-brown sward knelt Geraldine.
Quoth John, 'I'll ride on the gipsies' road,
For narrow space and a small abode
Would break this vagrant heart in me,
And the world is wide and good to see.'
'I'll stay,' said James, 'for my father's sake
From his ageing hand his toil to take,
So he have at last his heart's desire
To sit at ease by the glowing fire.'
'I shall not work,' said little Benjie,
'Nor roam the world that is fair to see;
But here I'll stay in the green beech wood,
By my mother's side and I'll just be good.'
Linking her chain sweet Geraldine said,
'Big John or James I will surely wed;
I soon must choose which shall best please me,
I care not at all for little Benjie.'
The oak grows brown and the oak grows green
The owl and thrush on her branch have been;
For fifty winters a snood of snow
She wears all white till the spring winds blow.
For fifty autumns a robe of red
She wears till the wet west wind has fled,
But ne'er from dawn till the dusk of day
Hath she heard the sound of a child at play.
Big John grows old and all full of care,
He works till night in his oaken chair;
His feet have led him not long nor late,
No more than a league from his father's gate.
Where yew trees wave and their dark leaves shed
Young James lies cold in his four-foot bed,
O soft did his father lay him down,
And over him drew the earth so brown
In a far-off land on a lonely height
Geraldine weeps full many a night,
And prays all day 'neath a gallows tree
Where hangs the corpse of little Benjie.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear Father
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?
You've given houses with two stories to my brothers,
And to me, a foreign land? Why dear father, why?
We (daughters) are just cows tied to your peg,
Will move on to where ever you drive us to, dear father.
We are just flower-buds of your garden,
And are asked for, in every household, dear father.
We are just birds from your cage,
Will fly off when its dawn again, dear father.
I've left at home, alcoves full of dolls;
And parted from my buddies too, dear father.
When my palanquin passed beneath the terrace,
My brother fainted and fell, dear father.
As I remove the curtain from the palanquin,
I see we've reached the beloved's house, dear father.
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?
poem by Amir Khusro
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Take Me Home Oh Father
Take me home oh Father, take me home,
For I've wandered this land You made alone.
No one understood of what I am,
Wasn't loved it seemed by beast or man.
Take me home oh Father, take me home,
My lifes' work seems over for me now.
I have done all You have asked of me,
Oh Dear Father do You hear my plea?
Take me home oh Father, take me home,
The pain is more than one can bare.
Take me home oh Father take me home,
To a place You promised if You care.
Take me home oh Father if You would,
For all my life I've tried to do what's good.
Take me home oh Father my life is done,
All has ended please now take me to Your Son.
poem by Linda Winchell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wood Handled Shovel
I take its smooth wood in my hands
to turn the earth as spring returns.
I make straight furrows in my garden
Like those before me worked the land.
This was Dad's shovel years ago
And in my father's callused hands
it coaxed our plot to yield us fruit
as good as any farmer's stand.
Outside of faded photographs
So few of father's things remain
His house torn down, his stuff dispersed.
his kingdom shrunken to a grave.
Of all the things that I possess
this little shovel made of wood
is my link to Him I loved
and to a time when life was good.
J.M.
poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Of Night
Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When God becomes your Father
When God becomes your Father
you feel like you can do anything
When God is near you
Ooh, the warmth it brings
It's just like the love between
a father and a child
Like being hovered over
like the warm sunshine
That safe protective care
it's that feeling that you know
that God is right there
When God becomes your Father
You feel safe and you feel warm
you feel like you can do anything
and you feel covered in His arms
When God becomes your Father
you want others to come too
into the protection and love of the Father
Can you hear him calling you
Scriptures:
' For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten
Son that whosoever believeth in him should not perish but have
everlasting life.'(Holy Bible- King James Version)
John 3: 16
'But as many as received Him, to them gave the
right to become children of God, even to those
who believe on his name.'
John 1: 12 (NASB)
poem by Debbie Bennett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Perfect Father
The Perfect Father
who accepts you
the perfect father
who protects you
The perfect father
what will you do?
but believe in him
and accept Him too
The perfect Father
who gave His life
The perfect Father
is found in Jesus Christ
The perfect Father
who knows your name
The perfect father
who will remain
The perfect Father
who lovingly guides
who wants to lead you
like a shepherd
and walk
by your side
The perfect Father
who listens and holds
The perfect Father
who gently consoles
The perfect Father
who changes you
by his Love and his kindness
and acceptance too
The perfect Father
who understands
This perfect Father
became a man
So that you could come
to personally know Him
and know there is a Father
who is out there my friend
There is a Father
who exist, your not dreaming
He's looking for you
while your searching for Him
He's found in Jesus Christ
Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life
no one comes to the father except through me'
(The Holy Bible) John 14: 6
poem by Debbie Bennett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father's Day,2012
O thank your dad for what you are today!
In life, a pivotal role, he does play;
‘His contribution is priceless, ' let's say;
Like mother, father gives bliss anyway!
A father's place, no person else can take;
A father's love is of a special make;
He toils unceasingly for family's sake;
He tells the members what is called as fake!
A fatherless child becomes unruly;
A child with father lives so casually;
With father gone, life can turn cruelly;
A father gives all, joy in family!
Respect your father for his weighs in gold;
He teaches you to be righteous and bold;
He is a fountain of wisdom when old;
His sacrifices most, remain untold!
So, wish your father on this special day;
Do greet him, hug him, kiss him anyway;
A father means a lot in life some way;
Return his love is some form, come what may!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-06-12
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Maid Of Ocram, Or, Lord Gregory
Gay was the Maid of Ocram
As lady eer might be
Ere she did venture past a maid
To love Lord Gregory.
Fair was the Maid of Ocram
And shining like the sun
Ere her bower key was turned on two
Where bride bed lay for none.
And late at night she sought her love--
The snow slept on her skin--
Get up, she cried, thou false young man,
And let thy true love in.
And fain would he have loosed the key
All for his true love's sake,
But Lord Gregory then was fast asleep,
His mother wide awake.
And up she threw the window sash,
And out her head put she:
And who is that which knocks so late
And taunts so loud to me?
It is the Maid of Ocram,
Your own heart's next akin;
For so you've sworn, Lord Gregory,
To come and let me in.
O pause not thus, you know me well,
Haste down my way to win.
The wind disturbs my yellow locks,
The snow sleeps on my skin.--
If you be the Maid of Ocram,
As much I doubt you be,
Then tell me of three tokens
That passed with you and me.--
O talk not now of tokens
Which you do wish to break;
Chilled are those lips you've kissed so warm,
And all too numbed to speak.
You know when in my father's bower
You left your cloak for mine,
Though yours was nought but silver twist
And mine the golden twine.--
If you're the lass of Ocram,
As I take you not to be,
The second token you must tell
Which past with you and me.--
O know you not, O know you not
Twas in my father's park,
You led me out a mile too far
And courted in the dark?
When you did change your ring for mine
My yielding heart to win,
Though mine was of the beaten gold
Yours but of burnished tin,
Though mine was all true love without,
Yours but false love within?
O ask me no more tokens
For fast the snow doth fall.
Tis sad to strive and speak in vain,
You mean to break them all.--
If you are the Maid of Ocram,
As I take you not to be,
You must mention the third token
That passed with you and me.--
Twas when you stole my maidenhead;
That grieves me worst of all.--
Begone, you lying creature, then
This instant from my hall,
Or you and your vile baby
Shall in the deep sea fall;
For I have none on earth as yet
That may me father call.--
O must none close my dying feet,
And must none close my hands,
And may none bind my yellow locks
As death for all demands?
You need not use no force at all,
Your hard heart breaks the vow;
You've had your wish against my will
And you shall have it now.
And must none close my dying feet,
And must none close my hands,
And will none do the last kind deeds
That death for all demands?--
Your sister, she may close your feet,
Your brother close your hands,
Your mother, she may wrap your waist
In death's fit wedding bands;
Your father, he may tie your locks
And lay you in the sands.--
My sister, she will weep in vain,
My brother ride and run,
My mother, she will break her heart;
And ere the rising sun
My father will be looking out--
But find me they will none.
I go to lay my woes to rest,
None shall know where I'm gone.
God must be friend and father both,
Lord Gregory will be none.--
Lord Gregory started up from sleep
And thought he heard a voice
That screamed full dreadful in his ear,
And once and twice and thrice.
Lord Gregory to his mother called:
O mother dear, said he,
I've dreamt the Maid of Ocram
Was floating on the sea.
Lie still, my son, the mother said,
Tis but a little space
And half an hour has scarcely passed
Since she did pass this place.--
O cruel, cruel mother,
When she did pass so nigh
How could you let me sleep so sound
Or let her wander bye?
Now if she's lost my heart must break--
I'll seek her till I die.
He sought her east, he sought her west,
He sought through park and plain;
He sought her where she might have been
But found her not again.
I cannot curse thee, mother,
Though thine's the blame, said he
I cannot curse thee, mother,
Though thou'st done worse to me.
Yet do I curse thy pride that aye
So tauntingly aspires;
For my love was a gay knight's heir,
And my father was a squire's.
And I will sell my park and hall;
And if ye wed again
Ye shall not wed for titles twice
That made ye once so vain.
So if ye will wed, wed for love,
As I was fain to do;
Ye've gave to me a broken heart,
And I'll give nought to you.
Your pride has wronged your own heart's blood;
For she was mine by grace,
And now my lady love is gone
None else shall take her place.
I'll sell my park and sell my hall
And sink my titles too.
Your pride's done wrong enough as now
To leave it more to do.
She owneth none that owned them all
And would have graced them well;
None else shall take the right she missed
Nor in my bosom dwell.--
And then he took and burnt his will
Before his mother's face,
And tore his patents all in two,
While tears fell down apace--
But in his mother's haughty look
Ye nought but frowns might trace.
And then he sat him down to grieve,
But could not sit for pain.
And then he laid him on the bed
And ne'er got up again.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Prayer to You
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
For all that you've done for me.
In the early morning hours,
When I arise to greet the Sun...
I feel blessed and prepared,
With such gratefulness...
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
And when noon approaches...
No matter what I have done,
Before that time comes...
That may create a disturbance,
I did not invite nor did I make.
I find time to show it is You I appreciate.
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
Whether or not...
Thunder storms roar,
Or rain drops fall to pitter and pat.
Thank you, My Father
For all that You've done for me.
For all that you've done for me...
I thank You, My Father.
And at the oncoming of Sunset...
Not one moment do I forget,
The power of Your presence...
That showers the blessings,
From You I get!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
Thank You...
Father, Father, Father!
In prayer to You.
This I must do!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Heir
My father is my father
I am his heir
I am in my father's house
I am fair.
My father is my father
And I am in full power.
My father is my father
I am his heir
I am not as mad as a hare
I like peace and
I do not like war.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chidren Of Abraham
Our Father is the father of all fathers.
Our Father is Abraham’s Father.
Our Father is John’s Father.
Our Father is Joseph’s Father.
Our Father is Jesus’ Father.
Our Father is Paul’s Father.
Jesus would thank our Father for placing the secrets of heaven inside children.
I can be 20 and you can be 105.
We all are nothing but children in Gods perfect eyes.
Children symbolizes no worries,
Matthew Ch 6 v.25-34.
Children symbolizes love,
Matthew Ch5 v.43-48.
Children becomes the salt of the world,
Matthew Ch 5 v.13.
The salt is what makes the world taste good.
The salt are us the children of Abraham,
John,
Joseph,
Paul,
Jesus,
And the children of the Father of all fathers.
Jesus loves the youth so much.
Matthew Ch 19 v.14 Jesus said “the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these”,
Meaning the children.
Matthew Ch 18 v.3” I tell you the truth,
Unless you change and become like children,
You will never enter the kingdom of heaven”.
Are we not children in the Fathers eyes?
Did the Father of all fathers not tell Jesus these things,
John Ch8 v.40?
Do we fall and make mistakes as little children?
Dose a good parent forgives their child after a child apologizes to them?
Dose a child builds in growth when the child cries and stops?
Dose discipline corrects the child when the child shows out?
Many would say “I pay the bills,
Therefore I am grown”,
But dose our Father God pay the bills still or is it the ones who claims their grown?
To the ones who claim their grown of course you put childish things away and you think as an adult,
But I ask you before the world dies and becomes consumed by the dark are you still a child at heart?
Matthew Ch18 v.3,
Children of Abraham please take heed.
Before Jesus returns and awaken all who are sleep.
Pleases realize and see that we all are children.
I may pay bills and work 24/7 with a complete high school education,
But still I teach those who are younger then me about the mercy of Jesus.
By playing video games and watching wrestling and cartoons on television with them.
The children by me already loves our Father Gods poetry.
Me being by their side talking and listing to them makes them smile.
I teach them what I know and I let them know that there’s nothing they can’t ask me about.
I enjoy laughing with them the kids as well,
Because I too am nothing but a child.
poem by Raff Rafael
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Father Is A Father
A father is a father.
But it takes a man to be a dad.
You lost that title when you left mom and I.
A dad is man that I can turn to when I need someone.
His son first hero and a daughters first love.
Any boy can be a father.
But to take responsibility and raise that child,
That's what makes a father a dad.
A father is a father.
A boy is a boy.
But a father can be a dad.
All he has to do is become a man.
poem by Alice Spakrs
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father’s Day
A father loves his children,
More than words can say;
Dad’s the head of family –
This was so till today!
A father toils for children,
From morn, throughout day;
So that all can eat good food,
He gives his hard-earned pay!
A father teaches children
And tells what life is;
A good dad chides and canes you,
If studies, you do miss.
A father tells his children
About love of God;
He reads the Bible verses,
And warns about God’s rod.
A father trains his children
Moulds their character;
He helps them know, right from wrong,
And live a life better.
A father guides his children,
Walk on sinless roads;
To live a life of fortitude,
And righteousness, he goads!
Let children wish their father,
‘Happy Father’s Day! ’
Thank God for giving this nice man –
A blessing till this day!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-15-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Boy
Oh Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You didn’t see the signs
You didn’t hear a thing did you
Oh Father Boy, my dear
You didn’t see, you didn’t look, you didn’t listen either
You didn’t try to understand
You didn’t take the time
You weren’t a Father, Father Boy, you weren’t a Father, Father.
Oh Father Boy, Father Boy
When a Father has a Boy
To be a Father, Father see
You have to see the Boy
The Boy inside the Father
And the Father in the Boy
But Father Boy, Oh Father Boy
You just didn’t pay attention
For a Boy to be a Father, Father
He cannot be a Father Boy.
(Previously published in Megaera, #4, Fall 2000)
poem by Laurence Overmire
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No father?
i told my father it was so and i got up and left him then you know
though there was nowhere i had to go and nothing i had to do
i stand before you father
but you refuse to see
oh father, have you forgotten me?
i kneel before you father
but you do not feel
i am your flesh and same blood
if only you knew
if only i could tell you your an ass
if only i could say and put into words what you've put me through
if only you were around to say good job
as a father you have failed
as a father you were never there
i am ill be gotten history
...no father?
poem by Calvin Jenkins
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Song (Untitled #3)
Fair and false! No dawn will greet
Thy waking beauty as of old;
The little flower beneath thy feet
Is alien to thy smile so cold;
The merry bird flown up to meet
Young morning from his nest i' the wheat
Scatters his joy to wood and wold,
But scorns the arrogance of gold.
False and fair! I scarce know why,
But standing in the lonely air,
And underneath the blessed sky,
I plead for thee in my despair; -
For thee cut off, both heart and eye
From living truth; thy spring quite dry;
For thee, that heaven my thought may share,
Forget-how false! and think-how fair!
poem by George Meredith
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Fanaticism is the child of false zeal and of superstition, the father of intolerance and of persecution.
quote by John William Fletcher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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