Pansy: Song-Words
IN a crooked angle
Of a garden bower,
'Neath a weedy tangle
Grew a modest flower;
Unpretending, unoffending,
Gifted but with fancy,
Unassuming in his blooming
Grew that modest pansy.
Ah! pansy, pansy,
Hope springs anew;
But fancy, fancy,
Never comes true.
Comes a maiden bashful,
Wandering here and there,
With her silken sash full
Of roses rich and rare;
Slow she takes them, dewless shakes them
In her shapely fingers,
While to choose some for her bosom
Lazily she lingers.
Ah! pansy, pansy,
Modest in hue;
Sweet fancy, fancy,
Never comes true.
With a lover's anguish
For her glance he sought,
On her breast to languish
Was his daring thought;
If he perished by her cherished,
Life was worth the leaving;
But she passes 'midst the grasses,
And she leaves him grieving!
Ah! pansy, pansy,
Sorrow for you;
But fancy, fancy,
Never comes true.
poem by Arthur Henry Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Dear Diary
Dear Di-a-ry
Can you believe me
Admit what I write
I like Hermione
But we are two worlds apart
Cause she's a mudblood
I'm crazy
But I like it that way
Tell me why?
I know that it's a mistake
Tell me why?
Pansy just makes my heart ache
Tell me why?
Just quit the stupid tormenting
I like Hermione
She saw me looking
I started sweating
Yes, I know
She's with Ron
And I hate it that way
Tell me why?
I know that it's a mistake
Tell me why?
Pansy just wants my money
Tell me why?
I'm busted if they ever know
I fancy Granger
Hermione's pretty
She's just something else
Although she slapped me on the face, yeah
Her grades are high level
I'm nasty to her
But deep down inside of me
She is a beauty
Her skills are charming
Won't tell, won't tell, won't tell, won't tell
I wanna hear her say
Malfoy's better than Harry
Malfoy is such a darling
(I'm waiting for the words)
I want to make her Slytherin (oh yeah)
Not that Griffindor
Tell me why?
I told you it's a mistake
Tell me why?
Pansy just makes my back ache
Tell me why?
I wish Granger likes me today
(I'm never gonna let them know)
I like Hermione
Tell me why?
I know that it's a mistake
Tell me why?
I'm never gonna let them know
(Never gonna let them know it)
I like Hermione
Sin-cere-ly Draco
poem by Jessica Bousfield
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fancy
Fancy, if you believe in what I believe in,
Then well be the same, always.
Fancy, just look around thee
If you will fancy all the girls you see, always.
My love is like a ruby that no one can see,
Only my fancy, always.
No one can penetrate me,
They only see whats in their own fancy, always.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Poison-Flower
IIN the evergreen shade of an Austral wood,
Where the long branches laced above,
Through which all day it seemed
The sweet sunbeams down-gleamed
Like the rays of a young mother's love,
When she hides her glad face with her hands and peeps
At the youngling that crows on her knee:
'Neath such ray-shivered shade,
In a banksia glade,
Was this flower first shown to me.
A rich pansy it was, with a small white lip
And a wonderful purple hood;
And your eye caught the sheen
Of its leaves, parrot-green,
Down the dim gothic aisles of the wood.
And its foliage rich on the moistureless sand
Made you long for its odorous breath;
But ah! 'twas to take
To your bosom a snake,
For its pestilent fragrance was death.
And I saw it again, in a far northern land,—
Not a pansy, not purple and white;
Yet in beauteous guise
Did this poison-plant rise,
Fair and fatal again to my sight.
And men longed for her kiss and her odorous breath
When no friend was beside them to tell
That to kiss was to die,
That her truth was a lie,
And her beauty a soul-killing spell.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Adelaide Crapsey
Among the bumble-bees in red-top hay, a freckled field of brown-eyed Susans dripping yellow leaves in July,
I read your heart in a book.
And your mouth of blue pansy—I know somewhere I have seen it rain-shattered.
And I have seen a woman with her head flung between her naked knees, and her head held there listening to the sea, the great naked sea shouldering a load of salt.
And the blue pansy mouth sang to the sea:
Mother of God, I’m so little a thing,
Let me sing longer,
Only a little longer.
And the sea shouldered its salt in long gray combers hauling new shapes on the beach sand.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Fancy Dan
Roy orbison/ joe melson
Well fancy dan, hes a bright young man
Hes a lover
Well fancy dan, hes ahead of the clan
Hes a lover
Well the words around that all the boys in town
Are gonna tear his playhouse down
But that dont bother young dan, hes not a fighting man
Hes the swingingest lover around
Well dont underestimate fancy dan
Hes the leader of a local band
Dont you dare leave your baby alone
Hes a modern pied piper on the saxophone
Well fancy dan, man oh man
Hes a smoothie
Well fancy dan, dont you understand
Hes groovy
Well the boys dont like him but the girlies do
And thats all a part of the plan
Theyre looking for a romance and they havent a chance
In the arms of fancy dan
Well fancy dan, round and round he goes
Where he stops, nobody knows
You better not leave your baby alone
When he plays come to me on his saxophone
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fancy Colours
Going where the orange sun has never died
And your swirling marble eyes shine
Laughing
Burning blue the light
Bittersweet the drops of life
Memories only fading
Fancy colours
Fancy colours
All we ever did see
When were down at the sea
We see things so very clear at the sea
Fancy colours
Fancy colours
All we ever can do
The morning covered with dew
We do things so very fine in the dew
Fancy colours
Fancy colours
All we ever do hear
But whether were here or there
We hear things so very fine when were there
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fancy Colors
Robert Lamm, 1970)
Going where the orange sun has never died
And your swirling marble eyes shine
Laughing
Burning through the light
Bittersweet the drops of life
Memories only fading
Fancy Colours, fancy Colours
All we ever did see
When we're down at the sea
We see things so very bright at the sea
Fancy Colours, fancy Colours
All we ever can do
The morning covered with dew
We do things so very fine at the dew
Fancy Colours, fancy Colours
All we ever do hear
The world wether we're hear or there
We hear things so very fine when we're there
Andr Velloso - Rio de Janeiro, Brazil
[email protected]
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I was the Pink Pansy or whatever, wearing this crazy thing.
quote by Kel Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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How does a pansy, for example, select the ingredients from soil to get the right colors for the flower? Now there's a great miracle. I think there's a supreme power behind all of this. I see it in nature.
quote by Clyde Tombaugh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fancy
Fancy is a precious feeling,
One that skilfully plays with the sentence
Of social intelligence, that life is jostled with
And you must bury your head in it so that
The head is coated with living intellect.
Reason has occupied my mind
As every fancy has been obliterated
For the better, and not for the worse.
Do you interact on space and time
Like a maniac does a football pitch?
Fancy having players of sport with skills like us,
So then somehow talking is for us with them
And we can then learn sport.
I fancy the intelligence of sport.
poem by Naveed Akram
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No Strings
I wake up every morning with a smile on my face
Everything in its place as it should be
I start out every morning just as free as the breeze
My cares upon the shelf
Because i find myself with
No strings and no connections
No ties to my affections
I'm fancy free and free for anything fancy
No dates that can't be broken
No words that can't be spoken
Especially when i am feeling romancy
Like a robin upon a tree
Like a sailor that goes to sea
Like an unwritten melody
I'm free, that's me
So
Bring on the big attraction
My decks are cleared for action
I'm fancy free and free for anything fancy
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Strings
I wake up every morning with a smile on my face
Everything in its place as it should be
I start out every morning just as free as the breeze
My cares upon the shelf
Because i find myself with
No strings and no connections
No ties to my affections
I'm fancy free and free for anything fancy
No dates that can't be broken
No words that can't be spoken
Especially when i am feeling romancy
Like a robin upon a tree
Like a sailor that goes to sea
Like an unwritten melody
I'm free, that's me
So
Bring on the big attraction
My decks are cleared for action
I'm fancy free and free for anything fancy
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plain And Simple
When I walked through the door
of a fancy fashion store.
All around was finery.
Who could ask for anything more?
But all I saw was not for me.
It was too fancy for my eyes.
So when I tried one on for size
I saw immediately
that fancy lace and silks and satin
never were my style.
And still just the sight I saw in the glass
for that shortened while
contented me to know myself
and who I'd never be.
Simple, comfortable and practical
were the clothes for me.
When I walked through the door
of that fancy fashion store
I went in because I needed a job
and saw a sign on the door
'HELP NEEDED'
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Too Fancy
He likes armani suits
To wear with ties of silk
Bought a herd of cows
To milk his own milk
I like his heart of gold, his personality
Hes just too fancy for me
Hes got a cartier and a mercedes benz
And that was all ok
When we were only friends
But when were on a date
Its all too plain to see
Hes just too fancy for me
I like a man who can roll up his jeans
And wade in the water
And still has some dreams
I like a man who can understand
Simplicity
Dont want em finely tuned
Cause quirky men are cool
The concordes caviar
Aint like balduccis food
Those thousand dollar suits
May suit society
But theyre just too fancy for me
Give me a fishing boat
Give me a wide eyed grin
Dont even try to gloat
Cause you wont even win
Dont want the courtside seats
I want my nose to bleed
Hes just too fancy for me
Hes just too fancy for me
song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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all That Fancy Food
'ALL THAT FANCY FOOD'
After all that fancy food at Christmas in the past,
Turkey stuffing Xmas pud things that do not last
Full brekkies in the morning, snacks again at noon
Eating and drinking all day long until we see the moon
Now really what I fancy now festive time is gone,
Is plain food so English to peg me back to norm
Good old Egg and chips will get me back to form.
Dave Bennett
poem by David Bennett
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Fancy
There are
Many men
I fancy…
Many men
Fancy me…
But the way
He loves me,
Nobody else
Can love me.
(Theme: Exception)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Fancy
There's
No guy
That holds
My fancy
As you.
I hold
Many guys
In my eyes
But I only
Fancy you.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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A Tearfull Sorrow
A tearfull sorrow of loss is something that consumes me every other night.
It is not a womany i fancy.
Nor a loss of a meaning.
It is not ghouls & goblins that haunt my every night.
Nor a faboulous life i fancy.
It is not a tumbling fear with a meaning.
Nor a lover that once danced to my every thought.
A tearfull sorrow is the loss of a treasured friend.
poem by Beating Tree
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'Every man to his fancy, and me to my own fancy,' said the old woman when she kissed her cow.
The Satin Bower-Bird
Spare a bloom of blue, lady,
To adorn a bower.
A violet will do, lady
Any azure flower.
Since we hold a dance to-day,
We would make our ball-room gay,
Where the scented grasses sway.
And the tall trees tower.
Beautiful but shy, lady,
Yesterday we came
Dropping from the sky, lady,
Flecks of golden flame
Golden flame and royal blue
We have come to beg of you
Any scrap of heaven's hue
For our dancing game.
Spare us but a leaf, lady,
If our suit be spurned
We shall play the thief, lady,
When your back is turned;
Ravishing your garden plot
Of the choicest you have got
Pansy or forget-me-not
Counting it well earned.
Then, if some rare chance, lady,
Later should befall.
And you gain a glance, lady,
At our dancing hall,
You will find your blossoms there
'Mid our decorations where,
With a proud, patrician air,
We hold the Bushland Ball.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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