If All the World Were Paper
"If all the world were paper
And all the sea were ink,
If all the trees were bread and cheese
What would we do for drink?
If all the world were sand O,
Oh then what should we lack O,
if as they say there were no clay
How should we take Tobacco?
If all our vessels ran-a,
If none but had a crack-a,
If Spanish apes ate all the grapes
How should we do for sack-a?
If all the world were men
And men lived all in trenches,
And there were none but we alone,
How should we do for wenches?
If friars had no bald pates
Nor nuns had no dark cloisters,
If all the seas were beans and peas
How should we do for oysters?
If there had been no projects
Nor none that did great wrongs,
If fiddlers shall turn players all
How should we do for songs?
If all things were eternal
And nothing their end bringing,
If this should be, then how should we
Here make an end of singing?
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Related quotes
If All the World Were Paper
"If all the world were paper
And all the sea were ink,
If all the trees were bread and cheese
What would we do for drink?
If all the world were sand O,
Oh then what should we lack O,
if as they say there were no clay
How should we take Tobacco?
If all our vessels ran-a,
If none but had a crack-a,
If Spanish apes ate all the grapes
How should we do for sack-a?
If all the world were men
And men lived all in trenches,
And there were none but we alone,
How should we do for wenches?
If friars had no bald pates
Nor nuns had no dark cloisters,
If all the seas were beans and peas
How should we do for oysters?
If there had been no projects
Nor none that did great wrongs,
If fiddlers shall turn players all
How should we do for songs?
If all things were eternal
And nothing their end bringing,
If this should be, then how should we
Here make an end of singing?
A-Shelling Peas
Now, all the world is green and bright
Outside the latticed pane;
The fields are decked with gold and white,
And Spring has come again.
But though the world be fair without,
With flow'rs and waving trees,
'Tis pleasanter to be about
Where Nell's a-shelling peas.
Her eyes are blue as cloudless skies,
And dimples deck her cheeks;
Whilst soft lights loiter in her eyes
Whene'er she smiles or speaks.
So all the sunlit morning-tide
I dally at mine ease,
To loaf at slender Nelly's side
When Nell's a-shelling peas.
This bard, who sits a-watching Nell,
With fingers white and slim,
Owns up that, as she breaks each shell,
She also "breaks up" him;
And could devoutly drop upon
Submissive, bended knees
To worship Nell with apron on -
A saint a-shelling peas.
The tucked-up muslin sleeves disclose
Her round arms white and bare -
'Tis only "shelling peas" that shows
Those dainty dimples there.
Old earth owns many sights to see
That captivate and please; -
The most bewitching sight for me
Is Nell a-shelling peas.
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
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My Life Through His Eyes
The world we live in.
Is so full of lies.
The bad things we do.
We rationalize.
It's all condemnation.
Instead of conviction.
The truths of the world.
Become our contradictions.
We embrace the bad.
Push away what is good.
We do what we want.
Rather than what we should.
Two wrongs make a right.
Revenge served up cold.
The devil grabs tight.
We can't break his hold.
So we do what seems easy.
Not what is right.
It's a steep uphill battle.
So we give up the fight.
Don't look up for help.
Keep your eyes down below.
The devil reminds us.
To make us feel low.
I challenge my brothers,
And my sisters too.
To turn your old life.
Into something brand new.
For He will convict us.
And make us complete.
His glorious victory.
Is Satan's defeat.
He'll show us the truth.
Turn what's dark into light.
What once made us blind.
Will give us new sight.
The things that seemed hopeless.
Will be within reach.
The cloth that was soiled.
Now whitened with bleach.
So what's there to lose?
A life filled with pain?
He'll show you you never.
Have to feel it again.
I speak from experience.
I walked down the path.
My life of my sins.
Was my life of His wrath.
So I asked Him to help me.
And that's just what He did.
The lies that I lived in.
Became the truths of His bid.
He's made my life easy.
Even when things are tough.
The greatest of sailors.
Learn on seas that are rough.
For my father knows best.
He's the author of life.
He will give abundance.
To a world full of strife.
Don't live in denial.
His truths are not lies.
But you'll never know this.
Until you see through His eyes.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Oysters And Pearls
Lindbergh left Long Island in 1927
Thumbed his nose at gravity
And climbed into the heavens.
When he returned to earth that night everything changed,
For the pilot and the planet, everything was rearranged.
We're a pretty mixed up bunch
Of crazy human beans
It's written on our rocket ships
And in early cave wall scenes.
How does it happen,
How do we know,
Who sits and watches
Who does the show?
[Chorus:]
Some people love to lead
And some refuse to dance.
Some play it safely, other take a chance.
Still it's all a mystery
This place we call the world
Where most live as oysters
While some become pearls.
Elvis was the only man from Northeast Mississippi
Who could shake his hips and still be loved by rednecks, cops and hippies.
It's something more than DNA that tells us who we are
It's method and it's magic, we are of the stars.
[Chorus]
Some never fade away, some crash and burn
Some make the world go round, other watch it turn.
Still it's all a mystery
This place we call the world.
Most are fine as oysters
While some become pearls.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Divine
Poems after poems
Painted love as divine
Songs after songs
Hug and wet kiss
Are treated as eternal bliss
Paintings after paintings
Soft touch and sex
Are depicted as ambrosial
Heavenly things are in this world
Worldly things are in the heaven
Then, no difference
Between this world and the world after?
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Solitude, Singing
Being alone is knowing
That in in this solitary splendour
Solitude, stark and staring,
Solitude, singing a lullaby
Solitude, singing a dirge
Surrounded by so many sundry things;
Things seen and unseen
Factors known and unknown
Solitude singing softly, chanting without ranting
Solitude’s songs that sing of solemn things
Silence singing golden songs
Silence healing ancient wrongs
If only silence could be
More than a memory
More than history
Silence can be more than words
Empty words echoing in an empty world
Echoing in empty valleys
Silence unspoken, unspoken, unbroken
Transfixed by time.
poem by Rani Turton
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Ngiculela - Es Una Historia/i Am Singing
Ngiculela
(zulu translation by thoko mdalose hall)
Ngiculela ikusasg
Ngliyacula nao thando
Ngicula ngelinyi langa
Uthando luyobusa
Jikelele kulomblada wethu
Es una historia
(spanish translation by raymond maldonado)
Es una historia de manana
Es una historia de amor
Es una historia que amor reinera
Por nuestro mundo
Es una historia de mi corazon
I am singing
Theres songs to make you smile
Theres songs to make you sad
But with an happy song to sing
It never seems so bad
To me came this melody
So Ive tried to put in words how I feel
Tomorrow will be for you and me
I am singing of topmorrow
I am singing of love
I am singing someday love will reign
Througout this world of ours
I am singing of love from my heart
Lets all sing someday sweet love will reign
Througout this world of ours
Lets start singing
Of love from our hearts
Lets start singing
Of love from our hearts
song performed by by Stevie Wonder
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.
So Called World
I stand alone in this so called world,
I can't trust no one, T
hey will turn on me or just disappear,
This world is cold & mean,
No one is there to help you,
When you fall,
No one is around to help,
When you have problems,
This is a cruel world,
Everyone is trying to get on top,
To the highest point,
Bringing down anyone who gets in their way,
There are no such things as friends to them.
poem by Veronica Nieves
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If Trees Could Talk
If trees could talk, what would they say?
That would definitely be question of the day.
They'd say, "Help us! Help us! We're being chopped down! "
That wouldn't help as our oxygen would frown.
They'd say, "Help us! We're being turned into furniture! "
That doesn't sound like much of an adventure.
They'd say, "Help us! Our branches are losing leaves! "
That shouldn't be the case until Christmas Eve.
If trees could talk, what would they say?
They'd say, "We watch the children who like to play."
There are some nice things too that trees would utter,
Like, "We're as important to life as bread is to butter."
Sadly, trees are like some of us; they speak in silence.
But do they really deserve to be treated with violence?
poem by Stephen Cahill Furlong
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Ode on the Mammoth Cheese
We have seen the Queen of cheese,
Laying quietly at your ease,
Gently fanned by evening breeze --
Thy fair form no flies dare seize.
All gaily dressed soon you'll go
To the great Provincial Show,
To be admired by many a beau
In the city of Toronto.
Cows numerous as a swarm of bees --
Or as the leaves upon the trees --
It did require to make thee please,
And stand unrivalled Queen of Cheese.
May you not receive a scar as
We have heard that Mr. Harris
Intends to send you off as far as
The great World's show at Paris.
Of the youth -- beware of these --
For some of them might rudely squeeze
And bite your cheek; then songs or glees
We could not sing o' Queen of Cheese.
We'rt thou suspended from baloon,
You'd cast a shade, even at noon;
Folks would think it was the moon
About to fall and crush them soon.
poem by James McIntyre
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Lost Horizons
The last horizons I can see are filled with bars and factories
And in them all we fight to stay awake...
Drink enough of anything to make this world look new again
Drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves
She had nothing left to say so she said she loved me
I stood there grateful for the lie...
Drink enough of anything to make this girl look new again
Drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves
Turn summer trees to bones and ice
Turn insect songs against the night
With words we build and words we break
Im drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves...
Drink enough of anything to make myself look new again
Drunk drunk drunk in the gardens and the graves
song performed by by Gin Blossoms
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Listen To My Song (from 'Meet the Moments')
When my heart is lonely and blue
And just wondering about you
When the world outside is all cold
And my dreams to nowhere are true
And to the dark they surely unfold
Just listen to my song of loneliness
Just listen to the song I'm singing
I'll be touching out for each caress
That my feelings and paths are bringing
Every world has its own to care for
Love is something to adjust and to be
We can never be of us assure
Because freedom is to learn and to see
It's all about free will to you and me
Just listen to my song to the open air
Just listen to the singing from my heart
I will try to reach out and be there
To make each open opportunities start
Just listen to my song of loneliness
Just listen to the song I'm singing
I'll be touching out for each caress
Which those believes and ways are bringing
Whenever you touch and bring out of trouble
Anything you stand for on your own
It shall raise each fortress from rubble
Make each struggle for freedom be known
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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The End of the World
Here, at the end of the world,
the flowers bleed
as if they were hearts,
the hearts ooze a darkness
like india ink,
& poets dip their pens in
& they write.
"Here, at the end of the world,"
they write,
not knowing what it means.
"Here, where the sky nurses on black milk,
where the smokestack feed the sky,
where the trees tremble in terror
& people come to resemble them. . . . "
Here, at the end of the world,
the poets are bleeding.
Writing & bleeding
are thought to be the same;
singing & bleeding
are thought to be the same.
Write us a letter!
Send us a parcel of food!
Comfort us with proverbs or candied fruit,
with talk of one God.
Distract us with theories of art
no one can prove.
Here at the end of the world
our heads are empty,
& the wind walks through them
like ghosts
through a haunted house.
poem by Erica Jong
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Disarmament
One spake amid the nations, "Let us cease
From darkening with strife the fair World's light,
We who are great in war be great in peace.
No longer let us plead the cause by might."
But from a million British graves took birth
A silent voice -- the million spake as one --
"If ye have righted all the wrongs of earth
Lay by the sword! Its work and ours is done."
poem by John McCrae
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Prairie greyhounds (C.P.R. "NO. 1," WESTBOUND)
I swing to the sunset land--
The world of prairie, the world of plain,
The world of promise and hope and gain,
The world of gold, and the world of grain,
And the world of the willing hand.
I carry the brave and bold--
The one who works for the nation's bread,
The one whose past is a thing that's dead,
The one who battles and beats ahead,
And the one who goes for gold.
I swing to the "Land to Be,"
I am the power that laid its floors,
I am the guide to its western stores,
I am the key to its golden doors,
That open alone to me.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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Great Spirits
When the earth was young
and the air was sweet
And the mountains kissed the sky
In the great beyond, with its many paths
Man and nature lived side by side
In this wilderness of danger and beauty
Lived three brothers, bonded by love
Their hearts full of joy
they ask now for guidance
Reaching out to the skies up above
Great Spirits of all who lived before
Take our hands and lead us
Fill our hearts and souls
with all you know
Show us that in your eyes
we are all the same
Brothers to each other
In this world we remain truly
brothers all the same
Give us wisdom to pass to each other
Give us strength so we understand
That the things we do
the choices we make
Give direction to all life's plans
To look in wonder
at all we've been given
In a world that's not always as it seems
Every corner we turn
only leads to another
A journey ends, but another begins
Great Spirits of all who lived before
Take our hands and lead us
Fill our hearts and souls
with all you know
Show us that in your eyes
we are all the same
Brothers to each other
In this world we remain truly
brothers all the same
Brothers all the same
song performed by by Tina Turner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fragment
At last I entered a long dark gallery,
Catacomb-lined; and ranged at the side
Were the bodies of men from far and wide
Who, motion past, were nevertheless not dead.
"The sense of waiting here strikes strong;
Everyone's waiting, waiting, it seems to me;
What are you waiting for so long? --
What is to happen?" I said.
"O we are waiting for one called God," said they,
"(Though by some the Will, or Force, or Laws;
And, vaguely, by some, the Ultimate Cause;)
Waiting for him to see us before we are clay.
Yes; waiting, waiting, for God to know it." ...
"To know what?" questioned I.
"To know how things have been going on earth and below it:
It is clear he must know some day."
I thereon asked them why.
"Since he made us humble pioneers
Of himself in consciousness of Life's tears,
It needs no mighty prophecy
To tell that what he could mindlessly show
His creatures, he himself will know.
"By some still close-cowled mystery
We have reached feeling faster than he,
But he will overtake us anon,
If the world goes on."
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Sestina Of The Tramp-Royal
Speakin' in general, I 'ave tried 'em all,
The 'appy roads that take you o'er the world.
Speakin' in general, I 'ave found them good
For such as cannot use one bed too long,
But must get 'ence, the same as I 'ave done,
An' go observin' matters till they die.
What do it matter where or 'ow we die,
So long as we've our 'ealth to watch it all --
The different ways that different things are done,
An' men an' women lovin' in this world --
Takin' our chances as they come along,
An' when they ain't, pretendin' they are good?
In cash or credit -- no, it aren't no good;
You 'ave to 'ave the 'abit or you'd die,
Unless you lived your life but one day long,
Nor didn't prophesy nor fret at all,
But drew your tucker some'ow from the world,
An' never bothered what you might ha' done.
But, Gawd, what things are they I 'aven't done?
I've turned my 'and to most, an' turned it good,
In various situations round the world --
For 'im that doth not work must surely die;
But that's no reason man should labour all
'Is life on one same shift; life's none so long.
Therefore, from job to job I've moved along.
Pay couldn't 'old me when my time was done,
For something in my 'ead upset me all,
Till I 'ad dropped whatever 'twas for good,
An', out at sea, be'eld the dock-lights die,
An' met my mate -- the wind that tramps the world!
It's like a book, I think, this bloomin' world,
Which you can read and care for just so long,
But presently you feel that you will die
Unless you get the page you're readin' done,
An' turn another -- likely not so good;
But what you're after is to turn 'em all.
Gawd bless this world! Whatever she 'ath done --
Excep' when awful long -- I've found it good.
So write, before I die, "'E liked it all!"
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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What a World
What kind of world is this
This world I call my own
Were even a young child
Is afraid of going home
A world in which a man
Will take innocence from a child
Now their lives are lived in fear
The memories going wild
What kind of world is this
This world I call my own
Where you'll only be accepted
If your a f***ing clone
A world so full of s***
A world so full of lies
Can you spot the liars?
Can you see it in their eyes?
A world where self expression
Is pushed and made to fall
Despised and destroyed
To boost the egos of them all
A world where daddys hit
A world where mommys scream
Both killing their children
Killing their hopes killing their dreams
A world that makes you crazy
But does that make me insane?
A world thats without morals
A world thats without shame
A world that seems so dark
A world that seems so cold
A world that kills the young
A world that scars the old
A world that kills our hopes
Shoots them out of the sky
A world that kills us all
And makes us want to die.
poem by Jocelynn Halbauer
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