A Romance In The Rough
A sturdy fellow, with a sunburnt face,
And thews and sinews of a giant mould;
A genial mind, that harboured nothing base,—
A pocket void of gold.
The rival’s years were fifty at the least—
Withered his skin, and wrinkled as a crone;
But day by day his worldly goods increased,
Till great his wealth had grown.
And she, the lady of this simple tale,
Was tall and straight, and beautiful to view;
Even a poet’s burning words would fail
To paint her roseate hue.
The suitors came, the old one and the young,
Each with fond words her fancy to allure.
For which of them should marriage bells be rung,
The rich one or the poor?
She liked the young one with his winning ways,
He seemed designed to be her future mate—
Besides, in novels and romantic plays
Love has a youthful gait.
But well she knew that poverty was hard,
And humble household cares not meant for her;
Nor cared she what the sentimental bard
Might warble or infer.
She made her choice, the wedding bells rang clear;
The aged bridegroom figured in the Times.
The young man, after some superfluous beer,
Went forth to foreign climes.
And this is all I ever chanced to know,
Told by my mate while digging on the Creek,
Who ended with his handsome face aglow,
And with a verse in Greek.
poem by Arthur Patchett Martin
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Related quotes
The Marriage of Dawn
Dawn dressed in darkness
Welcomes the lights of wedding
The day two hearts joining together
Two souls joining together
Bound by love.
A wedding is the entrance to a marriage
Stepping from a fairy tale carriage
Into quite ordinary air.
The realization comes,
Life is a beautiful dance
Requiring intense coordination.
The hearts are beating
Slightly faster than others,
Nervousness seeps through
For both the groom and the bride
Awaiting the great moment
Two selves, one life; two notes, one harmony
Loving not just one, but both of you.
Friends and family
Joined together
In the wedding bliss
To wish them love
To wish them happiness
To wish them great future together.
We wish them to find
Joy is in the simple things
Touching, embracing,
Like coming home knowing,
When your eyes meet and no words need to be said.
They already knew
Long before the sound of wedding bells
Love for each other till the very end
Still, we wish them love for each other till the very end.
So, let us listen to the sound of wedding bells
And join in the rhythm of joy
In the celebration of love.
poem by Yuvarani Sami
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O Jenny Dear, I’ve Courted Lang
O Jenny dear, I've courted lang,
I've telt my tale and sung my sang,
And yet I fear I'm i' the wrang,
For ye'll na mak a wedding o't.
In winter when the frost and snaw
Wi' bitter blast around wad blaw,
I'd o'er the moor, nor mind it a',
In hopes ye'd mak a wedding o't.
And gin ye smil'd or kindly spak,
It smooth'd the road, and help'd me back;
I thought nae answer I wad tak,
For we wad mak a wedding o't.
Now, when I gae to kirk or fair,
The laddies scoff, the lassies jeer;--
``Is this poor Jock?--the good be here!
For sure he's made a wedding o't.
What is become of a' his fun?
Alak! his joyfu' days are done;
Or else he's pawn'd his dancing shoon,
Sin he has made a wedding o't.
Sure marriage is a dreadfu' thing!
Ye mind 'tis only i' the spring
That little birdies chirp and sing,
Or, till they've made a wedding o't.''
Then up spak honest Johnny Bell:
``My bairns, I ance was young mysel;
I've mony a blithsome tale to tell
Sin first I made a wedding o't;
My Tibby was a winsome bride,--
Nay, yet she is her auld man's pride!
Nae faut i' her I ever spyed,
Sin first we made a wedding o't:
Ilk day we live we fonder grow,
Though buckl'd fifty years ago;
Here's comfort for ye, young ones a',
Then haste ye, mak a wedding o't.
poem by Susanna Blamire
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Weddin' Bells
I have the invitation that you sent me
You wanted me to see you change your name
I couldn't stand to see you wed another
But dear I hope you're happy just the same
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
That should be ringing out for you and me
Down the aisle with someone else you're walking
Those wedding bell will never ring for me
I planned a little cottage in the valley
I even bought a little band of gold
I thought some day I'd place it on your finger
But now the future looks so dark and cold
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
I hear the children laughing out with glee
At home alone I hang my head in sorrow
Those wedding bells will never ring for me
I fancy that I see a bunch of roses
A blossom from an orange tree in your hair
And while the organ plays I love you truly
Please let me pretend that I am there
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
Ever since the day you set me free
I knew someday that you would wed another
But wedding bells will never ring for me
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wedding Bells/lets Turn Back The Years
I got the invitation that you sent me,
You wanted me to see you change your name
I couldnt stand to see you wed another
But dear I hope youre happy just the same
I planned a little cottage in the valley,
I even bought that little band of gold
I thought some day Id place it on your finger,
But now the future looks so dark and cold
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
That should be ringing now for you and me
Down the aisle with someone else youre walking
Those wedding bells with never ring for me
Darling, lets turn back the years
And go back to yesterday
Lets pretend that time has stopped
And I didnt go away
We had our love to make us happy
Love wasnt meant to bring us tears
Love like ours should never die
So, darling, lets turn back the years
I fancy that I see a bunch of roses
A blossom from and orange tree in your hair
While the organ plays I love you truly,
Just let me pretend that I am there
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
That should be ringing now for you and me
Down the aisle with someone else youre walking
Those wedding bells with never ring for me
Those wedding bells with never ring for me
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sounds of wedding bells
They waited sixteen long years
For the sounds of wedding bells
The wedding bells ring, dingdong, dingdong
The wedding bells sing, dingdong, dingdong
For all to hear strikingly clear
Hold your silence and wish them well
It is the sounds of wedding bells
This aged love birds have been waiting for
Once unofficial honeys
From this point declared official
In this matrimonial ceremony
I wish them well
Their braveness is my acknowledgement
Their enduring fight is my guiding light
Their victory will go down in history
Together they compliment and compliment
Each other like a perfect pair of fitting shoes
One way or another they already knew
Long before the sound of wedding bells
They would love each other till the very end
So listen to the sound of wedding bells
As they sing dingdong, dingdong
Perhaps for you it wouldn’t be long!
Copyright 2005 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Wedding Bells
I have the invitation that you sent me
You wanted me to see you change your name
I couldnt stand to see you with another
But dear I hope youre happy just the same
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
That should be ringing out for you and me
Down the aisle with someone else youre walking
Those wedding bell will never ring for me
I planned a little cottage in the valley
I even bought a little band of gold
I thought some day Id place it on your finger
But now the future looks so dark and cold
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
I hear the children laughing out with glee
At home alone I hang my head in sorrow
Those wedding bells will never ring for me
I fancy that I see a bunch of roses
A blossom from an orange tree in your hair
And while the organ plays I love you truly
Please let me pretend that I am there
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
Ever since the dat you set me free
I know someday that you are with another
But wedding bells will never ring for me
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Young Friar
When leaves broke out on the wild briar,
And bells for matins rung,
Sorrow came to the old friar
– Hundreds of years ago it was! –
And May came to the young.
The old was ripening for the sky,
The young was twenty-four.
The Franklin's daughter passed him by,
Reading a painted missal-book,
Beside the chapel door.
With brown cassock and sandalled feet,
And red Spring wine for blood;
The very next noon he chanced to meet
The Franklin's daughter, in a green May twilight,
Walking through the wood.
Pax vobiscum – to a maid
The crosiered ferns among!
But hers was only the Saxon,
And his the Norman tongue;
And the Latin taught by the old friar
Made music for the young.
And never a better deed was done
By Mother Church below
Than when she made old England one,
– Hundreds of years ago it was! –
Hundreds of years ago.
Rich was the painted page they read
Before that sunset died;
Nut-brown hood by golden head,
Murmuring Rosa Mystica,
While nesting thrushes cried.
A Saxon maid with flaxen hair,
And eyes of Sussex grey;
A young monk out of Normandy: –
'May is our Lady's month,' he said,
'And O, my love, my May!'
Then over the fallen missal-book
The missel-thrushes sung
Till – Domus Aurea – rose the moon
And bells for vespers rung.
It was gold and blue for the old friar,
But hawthorn for the young.
For gown of green and brown hood,
Before that curfew tolled,
Had flown for ever through the wood
– Hundreds of years ago it was! –
But twenty summers old.
And empty stood his chapel stall,
Empty his thin grey cell,
Empty her seat in the Franklin's hall;
And there were swords that searched for them
Before the matin bell.
And, crowders tell, a sword that night
Wrought them an evil turn,
And that the may was not more white
Than those white bones the robin found
Among the roots of fern.
But others tell of stranger things
Half-heard on Whitsun eves,
Of sweet and ghostly whisperings –
Though hundreds of years ago it was –
Among the ghostly leaves: –
Sero te amavi –
Grey eyes of sun-lit dew! –
Tam antiqua, tam nova –
Augustine heard it, too.
Late have I loved that May, Lady,
So ancient, and so new!
And no man knows where they were flown,
For the wind takes the may:
But white and fresh the may was blown
– Though hundreds of years ago it was –
As this that blooms to-day.
And the leaves break out on the wild briar,
And bells must still be rung;
But sorrow comes to the old friar,
For he remembers a May, a May,
When his old heart was young.
poem by Alfred Noyes
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Old Mates
I came up to-night to the station, the tramp had been longish and cold,
My swag ain't too heavy to carry, but then I begin to get old.
I came through this way to the diggings -- how long will that be ago now?
Thirty years! how the country has altered, and miles of it under the plough,
And Jack was my mate on the journey -- we both run away from the sea;
He's got on in the world and I haven't, and now he looks sideways on me.
We were mates, and that didn't mean jokers who meets for a year or a day,
We meant to go jogging together the whole of the blooming long way.
We slept with one blanket between us the night that we run from the port,
There was nothing above us but heaven, yet we took it as jolly good sport.
And now he's the boss of a station, and I'm -- well, the bloke that you see;
For he had the luck and I hadn't, and now he looks sideways on me.
We pegged out a claim on the Dunstan, there used to be gold in them days,
There's blokes that still sticks to the digging, but Lord only knows how it pays;
For the country as far as I've seen it's as chock full of holes as a sieve
With the Chinkies amullocking through it, and yet them coves manage to live.
But when Jack took me to the cradle, the place was a wonder to see,
We washed out a fortune between us, and now he looks sideways on me.
We both fell in love with one woman -- she worked in a pub for a spell;
It ain't the best place for an angel, but angels ain't better than Nell;
For she was as good as they make 'em and hadn't a notion of ill --
It's long years and years since we parted, and seems I'm in love with her still!
But Jack was the handsomest fellow -- I saw how the thing had to be;
He got the best wife on the diggings, and now he looks sideways on me.
I left him, I just couldn't stand it -- I knew it was better to part;
I couldn't look on at the wedding with a pain like a knife at my heart!
I never said nothing to no one -- we didn't whack out all the gold;
I wanted my mate to be happy without my own yarn being told.
So I went to the coast by the steamer, and now I'm the bloke that you see;
He told me to go to the wharè, it seems he looks sideways on me.
There's steps coming down to the wharè -- some other poor bloke on the road;
'Taint nothing to him to get growled at, the boss ain't a bloke that he knowed.
Too dark to make out who's a-coming -- he's crossing the plank at the creek;
The years and the whisky are telling, my eyesight begins to get weak.
What's the odds? it ain't like me to whimper, and all that's gone by had to be,
But the old times came crowding around me to see him look sideways on me.
What, Jack! Why, old man, you don't mean it? You didn't right know it was me?
Well I'm altered -- it ain't for the better -- never mind, never mind, let it be.
O mate, the long years since we parted -- there's a blooming great lump in my throat --
I ain't been as glad, mate, I tell you, since the time that we run from the boat.
You ain't a bit altered -- you're crying -- why, Jack, don't be sorry for me,
I'm that glad that I think I'll go cranky -- and I thought you looked sideways on me.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wedding Bells/Let's Turn Back The Years (feat. Lucinda Williams)
I got the invitation that you sent me,
You wanted me to see you change your name
I couldn't stand to see you wed another
But dear I hope you're happy just the same
I planned a little cottage in the valley,
I even bought that little band of gold
I thought some day I'd place it on your finger,
But now the future looks so dark and cold
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
That should be ringing now for you and me
Down the aisle with someone else you're walking
Those wedding bells with never ring for me
Darling, let's turn back the years
And go back to yesterday
Let's pretend that time has stopped
And I didn't go away
We had our love to make us happy
Love wasn't meant to bring us tears
Love like ours should never die
So, darling, let's turn back the years
I fancy that I see a bunch of roses
A blossom from and orange tree in your hair
While the organ plays
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ron
He has lost the inspiration of his life
And he must grow old without Annie his wife
They had been married for twenty two years
And memories of her still has him near to tears.
She was forty six when she passed on two years ago
And she did not live to see their grandchildren grow
Into young adults it was her wish to see
Her first great grandchild baptized but it wasn't meant to be.
Without his beloved Annie who had the 'heart of gold'
Ron in his early fifties must grow old
She was his soul mate and to him remained true
And together love and happiness they knew
Theirs was a true love that lasted till the end
She was his heroine and his dearest friend
And one as good as her he could not wish for to meet again
And the memories with him always will remain
Of the beautiful woman with brown eyes and nut brown hair
To laugh to her came easy she was always free of care
Their wedding photograph hangs on his bedroom wall
And she will remain as his greatest love of all.
Life will never again be the same for Ron
But without his beloved Annie he must carry on
She was the inspiration of his life
His lover and his soul mate and his wife
poem by Francis Duggan
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Retrospection
WHEN you and I were young, the days
Were filled with scent of pink and rose,
And full of joy from dawn till close,
From morning's mist till evening's haze.
And when the robin sung his song
The verdant woodland ways along,
We whistled louder than he sung.
And school was joy, and work was sport
For which the hours were all too short,
When you and I were young, my boy,
When you and I were young.
When you and I were young, the woods
Brimmed bravely o'er with every joy
To charm the happy-hearted boy.
The quail turned out her timid broods;
The prickly copse, a hostess fine,
Held high black cups of harmless wine;
And low the laden grape-vine swung
With beads of night-kissed amethyst
Where buzzing lovers held their tryst,
When you and I were young, my boy,
When you and I were young.
When you and I were young, the cool
And fresh wind fanned our fevered brows
When tumbling o'er the scented mows,
Or stripping by the dimpling pool,
Sedge-fringed about its shimmering face,
Save where we'd worn an ent'ring place.
How with our shouts the calm banks rung!
How flashed the spray as we plunged in, —
Pure gems that never caused a sin!
When you and I were young, my boy,
When you and I were young.
When you and I were young, we heard
All sounds of Nature with delight, —
The whirr of wing in sudden flight,
The chirping of the baby-bird.
The columbine's red bells were rung;
The locust's vested chorus sung;
While every wind his zithern strung
To high and holy-sounding keys,
And played sonatas in the trees —
When you and I were young, my boy,
When you and I were young.
When you and I were young, we knew
To shout and laugh, to work and play,
And night was partner to the day
In all our joys. So swift time flew
On silent wings that, ere we wist,
The fleeting years had fled unmissed;
And from our hearts this cry was wrung —
To fill with fond regret and tears
The days of our remaining years —
'When you and I were young, my boy,
When you and I were young.'
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Brittle Bones
Though I am an old man
With my bones very brittle,
Though I am a poor old man
Worth very little,
Yet I suck at my long pipe
At peace in the sun,
I do not fret nor much regret
That my work is done.
If I were a young man
With my bones full of marrow,
Oh, if I were a bold young man
Straight as an arrow,
And if I had the same years
To live once again,
I would not change their simple range
Of laughter and pain.
If I were a young man
And young was my Lily,
A smart girl, a bold young man,
Both of us silly.
And though from time before I knew
She'd stab me with pain,
Though well I knew she'd not be true,
I'd love her again.
If I were a young man
With a brisk, healthy body,
Oh, if I were a bold young man
With love of rum toddy,
Though I knew that I was spiting
My old age with pain,
My happy lip would touch and sip
Again and again.
If I were a young man
With my bones full of marrow,
Oh, if I were a bold young man
Straight as an arrow,
I'd store up no virtue
For Heaven's distant plain,
I'd live at ease as I did please
And sin once again.
poem by Robert Graves
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The Sugar Daddy's Woman
He is seventy four and she is twenty seven with light brown and wavy shoulder length hair
You've guessed right to say he is a sugar daddy one of the Town's wealthier a known millionaire
She feels she is better off with him than with one of her own age a fellow with only a few dollars to spare
He buys her a good time and he treats her as special and for her he does seem to genuinely care.
She is happy to be the sugar daddy's woman money speaks every language and 'tis always been that way
An old man with money better than a poor young bloke who will be a battler until his dying day
The Local young blokes of the older bloke jealous they find it hard to come to terms with how he
Could be going to bed with the Town's fairest young woman without realizing they are restricted by their poverty.
Than seventy four he looks many years younger at a guess one might say from fifty to fifty two
Amazing what a face lift and a bottle of brown hair dye as well as some makeup for an old face can do
She carries her first child it will be his seventh yet he feels as proud as any younger father to be
Her son or her daughter into wealth will be born and that sounds better than being born into poverty.
Despite she being pregnant she does look quite radiant her sugar daddy for her left his old wife
Money speaks every language seems all too apparent and she can look forward to a better life
Than being with one of her own age struggling to make ends meet when poverty bites in love quickly decay
And though she does not love her sugar daddy she does love his money a good reason with him why she ought to stay.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Street Only Knew Your Name
Your street, rich street or poor
You should always be sure of your street
There's a place in your heart,
When you know from the start
And you can't be complete without a street
Keep movin' on, just like a train
Sometimes you gotta look back to the street again
Would you prefer all those castles in spain
Or a view of the street from your window pane
When you were young, so young
So very very young
When you were young, so young
So very very young
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name, oh your precious name, precious name
There was walter and joy, kate and roy
All hung around the corner lamplight
Get together sing some songs
Like boppin' the blues - you make me feel alright
That was long before fortune and fame
No such thing as a star when you've played that game
Everyone knew who everyone was
There was no preference in the street no, no
When you were young, so young
So very very young
When you were young, so young
So very very young
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name, oh your precious name
And you walked around in the heart of town
Listening for that sound
And you walk around in the heart of town
Listening for that sound
Blue suede shoes, it was the blue suede shoes
When you were young, so young
So very very young
When you were young, so young
So very very young
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name
And the street only knew your name
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tale Of Two Lovers Forbidden Love
A tale of two lovers who met when they were young
They got together just to have some fun.
Sparks started flying way beyond their control
They was so excited, so brave, so young, so bold.
They became lovers (I’m sure you already guessed)
Bringing out emotions, bringing out their best.
It was a forbidden love for a pair who was so young
But they nurtured it, and soon it became as one.
A love story - like a Romeo and Juliet tale
Their love so strong, they knew it could not fail.
He was protective in more ways than one
For she was his life, she was the sun.
They knew there would be objections
By family and their friends, so they
Kept it quiet till the very end.
They continued with their schooling
And professions they both gained
And they knew from the beginning
Their loves would remain the same.
They now told everyone, and screamed it to the world
How they hid their love, like an oyster hides its pearl.
They got married and a child she did bear
And as the child grew up, this story she would share.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Bells
And the actresses relate
To the actor who comes home late
After the plays have gone down
And the crowds have scattered around
Though the city lights and the streets
No ticket could be beat
For the beautiful show of shows
Ah, broadway only knows
The great white milky way
It had something to say
When he fell down on his knees
After soaring through the air
With nothing to hold him there
It was really not so cute
To play without a parachute
As he stood upon the ledge
Looking out, he thought he saw a brook
And he hollered, look, there are the bells
And he sang out, here come the bells
Here come the bells, here come the bells
Here come the bells
Here come the bells
Here come the bells
Here come the bells
Here come the bells
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 06 On Weakness And Old Age Story 08
An old man, having been asked why he did not marry, replied that he could not be happy with an aged woman, and on being told that as he was a man of property, he might take a young one, he said: ‘I being an old man and unwilling to associate with an old woman, how could a young one conceive friendship for me who am aged?’
Let not a man of seventy years make love.
Thou art confessedly blind, kiss her and sleep.
The lady wants strength, not gold.
One passage is preferable to her than ten mann of flesh.
Teenage EMOTION on Loves Highway
Loves highway draws teenagers
....... on thru the night
.........Emotion lays heavy
.............in their hearts,
... held in the whirlpool
..........of their own love
‘Too Young’ whispers melodically
.. like ether on the air waves,
.......As Lightning strikes, .
.......thunder accentuates
.........the radio crackle,
Lashing rain draws the elopers
..........closer together,
.....Driving thru the night
.....in love struck earnest,
......The power of love
...envelopes their bodies,
....Nothing will appease
....their quest God sent
Onward over the hill on and on,
..Looking for that little chapel
.....way down the highway
Ringing its golden wedding bells.
......Their car speeds on
fuelled by parental anguish,
. Whose words spin round.
in their heads
Painful arrows
fly thru their hearts,
In reality of space and time
love knows no limits
From young to old it abounds
with gentle hands,
For a loving heart
so easy to dismantle and break.
‘You’re a Christian and he’s a Jew,
‘He’s so young and so are you’,
Too late the words
to love filled ears
Cupid’s arrow fell
to younger years,
The wedding bells grew louder
the chapel in sight
Sealed with a kiss,
the end of his and Juliet’s flight
In arms together
to hold this very night.
poem by Ken e Hall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Giant and the Monster
Come to think about the time I was a young rant;
The universe: all seemed far away, big and wide,
That made me like a foot in the crowd on my side,
Holding the man's hand, my father was a giant.
Then an old man that I'd never met came for a visit;
Wore a wrinkled skin, as he trembled to hold his wicker;
At fifty-six then; I wished I would to die at fifty-six;
Once a toothless smile posed Grandpa was a monster.
My existence in to this world at the age of sixteen;
All seemed right; I'd never been wrong back then;
Than that little mind of mine who knew bit to scorn;
So as to the giant and to the monster, I grew a horn.
This one quote 'What comes around, it goes around'
Has come to haunt me as the giant or a monster bound;
In their likeness, I'm now the purest mirror of my sin,
And mystified no more than watching where I have been.
On the same road, long time ago, it gotten nearer;
I passed fifty-six and I wished to live much longer,
Than the monster, but God forbids, I wish to be sane;
Or equal to the giant, who went to sleep at eighty-seven.
poem by Efren Petalver Carranza
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To Be Young Again
Times goes slow when young
times flies when we get old
playing from morning till dusk
lot of musk and mud
forever to be young again
from skateboards, to bicycles, to palaying war
picking on girls, teasing them to the gills
fishing down the river, making pacts
how to be so young again
from tags to mag
racing cars, to earning scars
winning games, winning hearts
kissing girls and doing swirls of dance
to be so young again
remembering all the fun
now its time to tell the young ones
what it is to be so young
poem by Michael Peterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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