Quits
Ben Unger’s wife was dark and small,
With little, round, black eyes;
Ben Unger started at her call,
For Ben had been made wise.
No dirge could crush his spirit but
The one by Annie sung;
No whip-lash ever made could cut
Like Annie Unger’s tongue.
But Annie had a round, red cheek,
A figure like a plum,
And Henderson from up the creek
In courtship sly would come.
Then Annie voiced no angry call,
Here dirge remained unsung,
And very gentle was the fall
Of Annie Unger’s tongue.
Ned Holman went to Ben upon
The hill in Colter’s hay.
He said: “your wife with Henderson
Ran off at ten to-day!”
Ben stood stock still. “All right!” said he;
Then with a little laugh:
“That makes us quits at last. ‘Twas me
That stole his brindle calf!”
poem by Edward George Dyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Anything You Can Do
ANNIE: Anything you can do I can do better
......I can do anything better than you
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, yes, I can
FRANK: Anything you can be I can be greater
......Sooner or later I'm greater than you
ANNIE: No, you're not
FRANK: Yes, I am
ANNIE: No, you're not
FRANK: Yes, I am
ANNIE: No, you're not
FRANK: Yes, I am, yes I am
FRANK: I can shoot a partridge with a single cartridge
ANNIE: I can get a sparrow with a bow and arrow
FRANK: I can live on bread and cheese
ANNIE: And only on that?
FRANK: Yes
ANNIE: So can a rat
FRANK: Any note you can reach I can go higher
ANNIE: I can sing anything higher than you
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
ANNIE: Anything you can buy I can buy cheaper
......I can buy anything cheaper than you
FRANK: Fifty cents
ANNIE: Forty cents
FRANK: Thirty cents
ANNIE: Twenty cents
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, yes, I can
FRANK: Anything you can say I can say softer
ANNIE: I can say anything softer than you
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, yes, I can
FRANK: I can drink my liquor faster than a flicker
ANNIE: I can do it quicker and get even sicker
FRANK: I can open any safe
ANNIE: Without being caught?
FRANK: Sure
ANNIE: That's what I thought (you crook)
FRANK: Any note you can hold I can hold longer
ANNIE: I can hold any note longer than you
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't - yes, you can
ANNIE: Anything you can wear I can wear better
......In what you wear I'd look better than you
FRANK: In my coat
ANNIE: In your vest
FRANK: In my shoes
ANNIE: In your hat
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, yes, I can
FRANK: Anything you can say I can say faster
ANNIE: I can say anything faster than you
FRANK: Noyoucan't
ANNIE: YesIcan
FRANK: Noyoucan't
ANNIE: YesIcan
FRANK: Noyoucan't
ANNIE: YesIcan
FRANK: Noyoucan't
ANNIE: YesIcan
FRANK: I can jump a hurdle
ANNIE: I can wear a girdle
FRANK: I can knit a sweater
ANNIE: I can fill it better
FRANK: I can do most anything
ANNIE: Can you bake a pie?
FRANK: No
ANNIE: Neither can I
FRANK: Anything you can sing I can sing sweeter
ANNIE: I can sing anything sweeter than you
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Oh, yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
FRANK: No, you can't, can't, can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can, can, can, can
FRANK: No, you can't
ANNIE: Yes, I can
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Annie Mae
Written by natalie cole
(hoo, hoo, hoo) mmm (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Growing up wasnt easy for annie mae
(hoo, hoo, hoo)
A little girl in a great big world
Annie mae (hoo, hoo, hoo)
No one knew about her past
Some people swore shed never last
She was (growing up much too fast)
Growing (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Just a little too fast (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Never had her a mama, no, no
Annie mae (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Rarely heard a kind spoken word
Annie mae (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Looking at life through an empty shell
And all the time shes catching hell
She was growing
(growing up much too fast) up much too fast
Does anybody know where is annie mae today
Where oh where is annie mae
All you got to do is look into the faces of
All the young girls
On the avenue--(young girls!)
Oh, well, (hoo, hoo, hoo) ha
In the night hear her cry, annie mae (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Hurt and pain keeps coming again
And again, and again, annie mae (hoo, hoo, hoo)
Trippin and runnin is blowin her mind
Tryin to decide if shell make it this time
She was (growing up) oh, yeah (much too fast)
She was (growing up much too fast)
Somebody got to stop her, oh annie, annie
(ooh) (hoo, hoo, hoo) (where is annie mae)
Annie, annie
Somebody
(ooh) (hoo, hoo, hoo) (where is annie mae)
Got to stop her, oh, annie, annie,
(ooh) (hoo, hoo, hoo) (where is annie mae)
Annie, annie
Shes runnin, shes runnin
Growin up too fast, oh, oh
(shes running) oh, oh
Growin up too fast, oh, oh
(shes runnin) oh, oh
Growin up too fast, oh, hey
(shes runnin) annie, annie mae, yeah
(shes running) where you goin annie
(shes runnin) dont you think somebody aught to stop you
(shes runnin) somebody aught to stop you
(shes runnin) dont you think Im gonna try to stop you
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Annie Christian
Annie christian wanted to be number 1
But her kingdom never comes, thy will be done
She couldnt stand the glory, she would be 2nd to none
The way annie tells the story, shes his only son
Annie christian wanted to be a big star
So she moved to atlanta and she bought a blue car
She killed black children, and whats fair is fair
If u try and say ure crazy, everybody say electric chair
Electric chair
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified, Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified, Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian was a whore always looking for some fun
Being good was such a bore, so she bought a gun
She killed john lennon, shot him down cold
She tried to kill reagan, everybody say gun control
Gun control
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
Liar liar liar! got ya in a jam
Put your head on the block, somebody say abscam
Abscam
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Love Annie
SOFT of voice and light of hand
As the fairest in the land--
Who can rightly understand
My love Annie?
Simple in her thoughts and ways,
True in every word she says,--
Who shall even dare to praise
My love Annie?
Midst a naughty world and rude
Never in ungentle mood;
Never tired of being good--
My love Annie.
Hundreds of the wise and great
Might o'erlook her meek estate;
But on her good angels wait,
My love Annie.
Many or few of the loves that may
Shine upon her silent way,--
God will love her night and day,
My love Annie.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Big Annie
Around her mouth Big Annie has laugh wrinkles
The wrinkles people have who laugh a lot
Her hearty laughter is a thing of beauty
She has a gift that many haven't got.
Big Annie has the marvelous gift of laughter
And in our town her's is a well known face
She has the knack of making others happy
And the lighter side of living she embrace.
Big Annie is a plump and jolly woman
In her mid life her curly locks of brown
Hang loose in small ringlets around her shoulders
She is the best loved person in our town.
She has two teenage sons Joseph and Andy
And her husband Jimmy works on the railway
You never once hear big Annie complaining
We have so much to be thankful for she say.
There ought to be more people like Big Annie
Her mirthful laughter makes for a happy sound
You never see her sour looking or moody
And she spreads her gift of happiness around.
Big Annie is a friendly and humorous person
And she always has a big smile on her face
And without her and her marvelous gift of laughter
Our town might be a dull and boring place.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Finale
FRANK BUTLER:
The cowboys, the wrestlers, the tumblers, the clowns
The roustabouts that move the show at dawn
ANNIE OAKLEY:
The music, the spotlights, the people, the towns
Your baggage with the labels pasted on
FRANK BUTLER:
The sawdust and the horses and the smell
ANNIE OAKLEY:
The towel you've taken from the last hotel
ANNIE OAKLEY, FRANK BUTLER and CHORUS:
There's no business like show business
Like no business I know
Everything about it is appealing
Everything the traffic will allow
No where could you have that happy feeling
When you aren't stealing that extra bow
There's no people like show people
They smile when they are low
Even with a turkey that you know will fold
You may be stranded out in the cold
Still you wouldn't change it for a sack o' gold
Let's go on with the show
Let's go on with the show!
ANNIE OAKLEY and FRANK BUTLER:
They say that falling in love is wonderful
It's wonderful, so they say.
And with a moon up above it's wonderful
It's wonderful, so they tell me.
ANNIE OAKLEY:
I can't recall who said it
FRANK BUTLER:
I know I never read it
I only know that falling in love is grand
And to hold a girl in your arms
Is wonderful,
ANNIE OAKLEY:
Wonderful...
ANNIE OAKLEY and FRANK BUTLER:
In every way
So they say
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Annie Christain
Annie Christian wanted
2 be number one
But her kingdom never comes
Thy will be done
She couldn't stand the glory
She would be second 2 none
The way Annie tells the story
She's His only Son
Annie Christian wanted
2 be a big star
So she moved 2 Atlanta
And she bought a blue car
She killed black children
And what's fair is fair
If U try and say U're crazy
Everybody say, "Electric chair!" (Electric chair!)
CHORUS:
Annie Christian, Anti-Christ
Until U're crucified
I'll live my life in taxicabs
Annie Christian, Anti-Christ
Until U're crucified
I'll live my life in taxicabs
Annie Christian was a whore
Always lookin' 4 some fun
Being good was such a bore
So she bought a gun
She killed John Lennon
Shot him down cold
She tried 2 kill Reagan
Everybody say, "Gun control!" (Gun control!)
CHORUS
"Liar, liar, liar!"
Gotcha in a jam
Put your head on the block
Somebody say, "ABSCAM!" (ABSCAM!)
CHORUS
song performed by by Prince
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Annie
Youre a little bit shy
A little too quiet
Youre the mixed up girl
That everybody leaves behind
A little bit weird
A little too bright
But you just might be
That little bomb at their side
Theyll pull your hair
Theyll leave you wide-eyed
But did anybody wonder
What annie might have in mind
Oh, no
Theres something in the way she explains to me
Please be careful, I exist in someone elses head
Oh, no
Theres something in the way that she makes believe
Please be careful,
Annie dreams that everyone is dead
Youre a little bit dry
A little uptight
Youre the messed up girl
That every body tries to hide
Youve had enough
Theyre too unkind
But did anyone consider
What annie might have in mind
Oh, no...
song performed by by Our Lady Peace
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If Amy Lowell Had Been James Whitcomb Riley
When you came you were like red wine and honey,
And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Now you are like morning bread--
Smooth and pleasant,
I hardly taste you at all, for I know your savour,
But I am completely nourished.
--AMY LOWELL, in The Chimæra.
When I wuz courtin' Annie, she wuz honey an' red wine,
She made me feel all jumpy, did that ol' sweetheart o' mine;
Wunst w'en I went to Crawfordsville, on one o' them there trips,
I kissed her--an' the burnin' taste wuz sizzlin' on my lips.
An' now I've married Annie, an' I see her all the time,
I do not feel the daily need o' bustin' into rhyme.
An' now the wine-y taste is gone, fer Annie's always there,
An' I take her fer granted now, the same ez sun an' air.
But though the honey taste wuz sweet, an' though the wine wuz strong,
Yet ef I lost the sun an' air, I couldn't git along.
poem by Franklin P. Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Annie Of Tharaw. (From The Low German Of Simon Dach)
Annie of Tharaw, my true love of old,
She is my life, and my goods, and my gold.
Annie of Tharaw, her heart once again
To me has surrendered in joy and in pain.
Annie of Tharaw, my riches, my good,
Thou, O my soul, my flesh, and my blood!
Then come the wild weather, come sleet or come snow,
We will stand by each other, however it blow.
Oppression, and sickness, and sorrow, and pain
Shall be to our true love as links to the chain.
As the palm-tree standeth so straight and so tall,
The more the hail beats, and the more the rains fall,--
So love in our hearts shall grow mighty and strong,
Through crosses, through sorrows, through manifold wrong.
Shouldst thou be torn from me to wander alone
In a desolate land where the sun is scarce known,--
Through forests I'll follow, and where the sea flows,
Through ice, and through iron, through armies of foes,
Annie of Tharaw, my light and my sun,
The threads of our two lives are woven in one.
Whate'er I have bidden thee thou hast obeyed,
Whatever forbidden thou hast not gainsaid.
How in the turmoil of life can love stand,
Where there is not one heart, and one mouth, and one hand?
Some seek for dissension, and trouble, and strife;
Like a dog and a cat live such man and wife.
Annie of Tharaw, such is not our love;
Thou art my lambkin, my chick, and my dove.
Whate'er my desire is, in thine may be seen;
I am king of the household, and thou art its queen.
It is this, O my Annie, my heart's sweetest rest,
That makes of us twain but one soul in one breast.
This turns to a heaven the hut where we dwell;
While wrangling soon changes a home to a hell.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Annie
Watch her as she flew deep within the blue
The day out from the county I see you
There's nothing you can do
Someone gently says to you
The doctor says that now it won't be long
I try and live up til the moment and I hope that I don't blow it
And what is it in me that she hears?
It's just a song she likes
Her little arms around my neck
And a dying girl whispers in my ear
Tell me now can you feel it?
I've been keeping company with those
She comes to me like a piece of summer
She comes to me on the days when I need it most
Well summer dies and nothing lasts forever
And you're so fine, the way you stand up to your fears
The summer dies and its just moments we have together
I'd give my bones for you to get a few more years
For you and me, oh Annie
More than life than trying to survive, oh Annie
My boyfriend took pictures of me as I held you
I travel alone and the loneliness brings me to tears
The summer dies and it's just moments we have together
I'd give my bones for you to get a few more years
For you and I, oh Annie
More to life than trying to survive, oh Annie
Stronger than the hands that hold you
You sing along to the song on the radio
If I drank too much when I am with this
Just this once would you forgive this
And hold on, the days gone by
Tell me now can you feel it?
I can't keep this all to myself
She's elegant and she means it, no
Years for you and I, oh Annie
More to life than trying to survive, oh Annie
Watch her as she flew deep within the blue
Watch her as she sips away from you
I'll keep fingers crossed always for you
song performed by by Vanessa Carlton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Annie Marshall the Foundling
Annie Marshall was a foundling, and lived in Downderry,
And was trained up by a coast-guardsman, kind-hearted and merry
And he loved Annie Marshall as dear as his life,
And he resolved to make her his own loving wife.
The night was tempestuous, most terrific, and pitch dark,
When Matthew Pengelly rescued Annie Marshall from an ill-fated barque,
But her parents were engulfed in the briny deep,
Which caused poor Annie at times to sigh and weep.
One day Matthew asked Annie if she would be his wife,
And Annie replied, I never thought of it in all my life;
Yes, my wife, Annie, replied Matthew, hold hard a bit,
Remember, Annie, I've watched you grow up, and consider you most fit.
Poor Annie did not speak, she remained quite mute,
And with agitation she trembled from head to foot,
The poor girl was in a dilemma, she knew not what to say,
And owing to Matthew training her, she couldn't say him nay.
Oh! Matthew, I'm afraid I would not make you a good wife,
And in that respect there would be too much strife,
And the thought thereof, believe me, makes me feel ill,
Because I'm unfit to be thy wife, Matthew, faltered the poor girl.
Time will prove that, dear Annie, but why are you so calm?
Then Annie put her hand shyly into Matthew's brown palm
Just then the flashing lightning played upon Annie's face,
And the loud thunder drowned Matthew's words as Annie left the place.
But Matthew looked after her as she went home straightway,
And his old heart felt light and gay,
As he looked forward for his coming marriage day,
Because he knew that Annie Marshall couldn't say him nay.
Then the sky drew dark, and the sea lashed itself into foam,
But he heeded it not as he sat there alone,
Till the sound of a gun came booming o'er the sea,
Then Matthew had to attend to his duty immediately.
A ship, he muttered, Lord, help them! and coming right in by the sound,
And in a few minutes she will run aground.
And the vessel was dashed against the rocks with her helpless crew,
Then in hot haste for assistance Matthew instantly flew.
Then Matthew returned with a few men all willing to lend their aid,
But amongst them all Matthew seemed the least afraid;
Then an old man cried, Save my boy, for his mother's sake,
Oh! Matthew, try and save him, or my heart will break!
I will, Heaven helping me, Matthew said solemnly,
Come, bear a hand, mates, and lower me over the cliff quietly;
Then Matthew was lowered with ropes into what seemed a watery grave,
At the risk of his own life, old Jonathan Bately's son to save.
So Matthew Pengelly saved Jonathan Bately's son,
And the old man thanked God and Matthew for what he had done,
And the mother's heart was full of gratitude and joy,
For the restoration of her darling boy.
So Matthew resolved to marry Annie Marshall,
But first he'd go to sea whatever did befall,
To earn a few pounds to make the marriage more grand,
So he joined a whaling vessel and went to Greenland
And while Matthew was away at Greenland,
David Bately wanted to marry Annie Marshall right off hand,
But Annie refused to marry David Bately,
So in anger David Bately went another voyage to sea.
A few nights after David Bately had gone to sea,
Annie's thoughts reverted to Matthew Pengelly,
And as she sat in the Downderry station watching the boiling waves below,
The wind blew a terrific gale, which filled her heart with woe.
And as she sat there the big waves did loudly roar,
When a man cried, Help! help! there's a corpse washed ashore;
Then Annie rushed madly to the little beach,
And when she saw the corpse she gave a loud screech
So there is but little more to tell of this sad history,
Only that Annie Marshall mourned long for Matthew Pengelly,
Who had floated home to be buried amongst his own kin,
But, alas! the rest of the crew were buried in the sea, save him.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sidewalk Annie
She told you about it through a broken bleeding windpipe
It shook your bones and made your life feel skintight
Well, sidewalk annie
Now your coattails have come undone
Your whispers a scream now
Since you dont speak to anyone
The howlin winds could never care what she liked
Rhythm and blues or a stranger in the night
It tore up the trailer with the sounds of a howlin wolf
The cellar was stone, even the garden was bulletproof
Well, sidewalk annie
Now your coattails have come undone
Your whispers a scream now
Since you dont speak to anyone
Little girl in your white ice skates
Weve seen your face walkin around the old school gates
With a hand on your hip and the other one on your head
You realized it wasnt gone, but lost instead
Sidewalk annie
Now your coattails have come undone
Your whispers a scream now
Since you dont speak to anyone
Invested a nickel into the banks of a wishing well
And blew out the candles and hoped for somethin that she
Could, she could sell
Sidewalk annie
Now your coattails have come undone
Your whispers a scream now
Since you dont speak to anyone
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sidewalk Annie
She told you about it through a broken bleeding windpipe
It shook your bones and made your life feel skintight
Well, sidewalk annie
Now your coattails have come undone
Your whispers a scream now
Since you dont speak to anyone
The howlin winds could never care what she liked
Rhythm and blues or a stranger in the night
It tore up the trailer with the sounds of a howlin wolf
The cellar was stone, even the garden was bulletproof
Well, sidewalk annie
Now your coattails have come undone
Your whispers a scream now
Since you dont speak to anyone
Little girl in your white ice skates
Weve seen your face walkin around the old school gates
With a hand on your hip and the other one on your head
You realized it wasnt gone, but lost instead
Sidewalk annie
Now your coattails have come undone
Your whispers a scream now
Since you dont speak to anyone
Invested a nickel into the banks of a wishing well
And blew out the candles and hoped for somethin that she
Could, she could sell
Sidewalk annie
Now your coattails have come undone
Your whispers a scream now
Since you dont speak to anyone
song performed by by Wallflowers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Grandmother
I.
And Willy, my eldest-born, is gone, you say, little Anne?
Ruddy and white, and strong on his legs, he looks like a man.
And Willy's wife has written: she never was over-wise,
Never the wife for Willy: he would n't take my advice.
II.
For, Annie, you see, her father was not the man to save,
Had n't a head to manage, and drank himself into his grave.
Pretty enough, very pretty! but I was against it for one.
Eh!--but he would n't hear me--and Willy, you say, is gone.
III.
Willy, my beauty, my eldest-born, the flower of the flock;
Never a man could fling him: for Willy stood like a rock.
`Here's a leg for a babe of a week!' says doctor; and he would be bound,
There was not his like that year in twenty parishes round.
IV.
Strong of his hands, and strong on his legs, but still of his tongue!
I ought to have gone before him: I wonder he went so young.
I cannot cry for him, Annie: I have not long to stay;
Perhaps I shall see him the sooner, for he lived far away.
V.
Why do you look at me, Annie? you think I am hard and cold;
But all my children have gone before me, I am so old:
I cannot weep for Willy, nor can I weep for the rest;
Only at your age, Annie, I could have wept with the best.
VI.
For I remember a quarrel I had with your father, my dear,
All for a slanderous story, that cost me many a tear.
I mean your grandfather, Annie: it cost me a world of woe,
Seventy years ago, my darling, seventy years ago.
VII.
For Jenny, my cousin, had come to the place, and I knew right well
That Jenny had tript in her time: I knew, but I would not tell.
And she to be coming and slandering me, the base little liar!
But the tongue is a fire as you know, my dear, the tongue is a fire.
VIII.
And the parson made it his text that week, and he said likewise,
That a lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies,
That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright,
But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.
IX.
And Willy had not been down to the farm for a week and a day;
And all things look'd half-dead, tho' it was the middle of May.
Jenny, to slander me, who knew what Jenny had been!
But soiling another, Annie, will never make oneself clean.
X.
And I cried myself well-nigh blind, and all of an evening late
I climb'd to the top of the garth, and stood by the road at the gate.
The moon like a rick on fire was rising over the dale,
And whit, whit, whit, in the bush beside me chirrupt the nightingale.
XI.
All of a sudden he stopt: there past by the gate of the farm,
Willy,--he did n't see me,--and Jenny hung on his arm.
Out into the road I started, and spoke I scarce knew how;
Ah, there's no fool like the old one -- it makes me angry now.
XII.
Willy stood up like a man, and look'd the thing that he meant;
Jenny, the viper, made me a mocking courtesy and went.
And I said, `Let us part: in a hundred years it'll all be the same,
You cannot love me at all, if you love not my good name.'
XIII.
And he turn'd, and I saw his eyes all wet, in the sweet moonshine:
Sweetheart, I love you so well that your good name is mine.
And what do I care for Jane, let her speak of you well of ill;
But marry me out of hand: we two shall be happy still.'
XIV.
`Marry you, Willy!' said I, `but I needs must speak my mind,
And I fear you'll listen to tales, be jealous and hard and unkind.'
But he turn'd and claspt me in his arms, and answer'd, `No, love, no;'
Seventy years ago, my darling, seventy years ago.
XV.
So Willy and I were wedded: I wore a lilac gown;
And the ringers rang with a will, and he gave the ringers a crown.
But the first that ever I bare was dead before he was born,
Shadow and shine is life, little Annie, flower and thorn.
XVI.
That was the first time, too, that ever I thought of death.
There lay the sweet little body that never had drawn a breath.
I had not wept, little Anne, not since I had been a wife;
But I wept like a child that day, for the babe had fought for his life.
XVII.
His dear little face was troubled, as if with anger or pain:
I look'd at the still little body--his trouble had all been in vain.
For Willy I cannot weep, I shall see him another morn:
But I wept like a child for the child that was dead before he was born.
XVIII.
But he cheer'd me, my good man, for he seldom said me nay:
Kind, like a man, was he; like a man, too, would have his way:
Never jealous--not he: we had many a happy year;
And he died, and I could not weep--my own time seem'd so near.
XIX.
But I wish'd it had been God's will that I, too, then could have died:
I began to be tired a little, and fain had slept at his side.
And that was ten years back, or more, if I don't forget:
But as to the children, Annie, they're all about me yet.
XX.
Pattering over the boards, my Annie who left me at two,
Patter she goes, my own little Annie, an Annie like you:
Pattering over the boards, she comes and goes at her will,
While Harry is in the five-acre and Charlie ploughing the hill.
XXI.
And Harry and Charlie, I hear them too--they sing to their team:
Often they come to the door in a pleasant kind of a dream.
They come and sit by my chair, they hover about my bed--
I am not always certain if they be alive or dead.
XXII.
And yet I know for a truth, there's none of them left alive;
For Harry went at sixty, your father at sixty- five:
And Willy, my eldest born, at nigh threescore and ten;
I knew them all as babies, and now they're elderly men.
XXIII.
For mine is a time of peace, it is not often I grieve;
I am oftener sitting at home in my father's farm at eve:
And the neighbors come and laugh and gossip, and so do I;
I find myself often laughing at things that have long gone by.
XXIV.
To be sure the preacher says, our sins should make us sad:
But mine is a time of peace, and there is Grace to be had;
And God, not man, is the Judge of us all when life shall cease;
And in this Book, little Annie, the message is one of Peace.
XXV.
And age is a time of peace, so it be free from pain,
And happy has been my life; but I would not live it again.
I seem to be tired a little, that's all, and long for rest;
Only at your age, Annie, I could have wept with the best.
XXVI.
So Willy has gone, my beauty, my eldest-born, my flower;
But how can I weep for Willy, he has but gone for an hour,--
Gone for a minute, my son, from this room into the next;
I, too, shall go in a minute. What time have I to be vext?
XXVII.
And Willy's wife has written, she never was over-wise.
Get me my glasses, Annie: thank God that I keep my eyes.
There is but a trifle left you, when I shall have past away.
But stay with the old woman now: you cannot have long to stay.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Wife
"Tell Annie I'll be home in time
To help her with her Christmas-tree."
That's what he wrote, and hark! the chime
Of Christmas bells, and where is he?
And how the house is dark and sad,
And Annie's sobbing on my knee!
The page beside the candle-flame
With cruel type was overfilled;
I read and read until a name
Leapt at me and my heart was stilled:
My eye crept up the column -- up
Unto its hateful heading: Killed.
And there was Annie on the stair:
"And will he not be long?" she said.
Her eyes were bright and in her hair
She'd twined a bit of riband red;
And every step was daddy's sure,
Till tired out she went to bed.
And there alone I sat so still,
With staring eyes that did not see;
The room was desolate and chill,
And desolate the heart of me;
Outside I heard the news-boys shrill:
"Another Glorious Victory!"
A victory. . . . Ah! what care I?
A thousand victories are vain.
Here in my ruined home I cry
From out my black despair and pain,
I'd rather, rather damned defeat,
And have my man with me again.
They talk to us of pride and power,
Of Empire vast beyond the sea;
As here beside my hearth I cower,
What mean such words as these to me?
Oh, will they lift the clouds that low'r,
Or light my load in years to be?
What matters it to us poor folk?
Who win or lose, it's we who pay.
Oh, I would laugh beneath the yoke
If I had him at home to-day;
One's home before one's country comes:
Aye, so a million women say.
"Hush, Annie dear, don't sorrow so."
(How can I tell her?) "See, we'll light
With tiny star of purest glow
Each little candle pink and white."
(They make mistakes. I'll tell myself
I did not read that name aright.)
Come, dearest one; come, let us pray
Beside our gleaming Christmas-tree;
Just fold your little hands and say
These words so softly after me:
"God pity mothers in distress,
And little children fatherless."
"God pity mothers in distress,
And little children fatherless."
. . . . .
What's that? -- a step upon the stair;
A shout! -- the door thrown open wide!
My hero and my man is there,
And Annie's leaping by his side. . . .
The room reels round, I faint, I fall. . . .
"O God! Thy world is glorified."
poem by Robert William Service
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Gentle Annie
Thou wilt come no more, gentle Annie,
Like a flower thy spirit did depart;
Thou art gone, alas! like the many
That have bloomed in the summer of my heart.
Chorus
Shall we nevermore behold thee;
Never hear thy winning voice again --
When the Springtime comes, gentle Annie,
When the wild flowers are scattered o'er the plain?
We have roamed and loved mid the bowers
When thy downy cheeks were in their bloom;
Now I stand alone mid the flowers
While they mingle their perfumes o'er thy tomb.
Chorus
Ah! the hours grow sad while I ponder
Near the silent spot where thou art laid,
And my heart bows down when I wander
By the streams and the meadows where we strayed.
Chorus
poem by Stephen C. Foster
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In Honor of Zen Master Dogen
When I walked into
my sister’s apartment
Annie danced merrily.
so I whispered
to my sister
“I’m jealous
cause I want her
to be like me:
a loser
flop
failure
washout
not just me
also you,
your darling husband
not leaving your son
the whole bunch of us.
Not that I want her
to suffer
cause when you fail miserably
at life
you suffer
but
when Annie grows up
she’s gonna feel out of place.
I stared
an entire existence
just movement.
poem by Charles Chaim Wax
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Love Gregor; Or, The Lass Of Lochroyan
'O wha will shoe my fu' fair foot?
And wha will glove my hand?
And wha will lace my middle jimp,
Wi' the new-made London band?
'And wha will kaim my yellow hair,
Wi' the new made silver kaim?
And wha will father my young son,
Till Love Gregor come hame?'
'Your father will shoe your fu' fair foot,
Your mother will glove your hand;
Your sister will lace your middle jimp
Wi' the new-made London band.
'Your brother will kaim your yellow hair,
Wi' the new made silver kaim;
And the king of heaven will father your bairn,
Till Love Gregor come haim.'
'But I will get a bonny boat,
And I will sail the sea,
For I maun gang to Love Gregor,
Since he canno come hame to me.'
O she has gotten a bonny boat,
And sailld the sa't sea fame;
She langd to see her ain true-love,
Since he could no come hame.
'O row your boat, my mariners,
And bring me to the land,
For yonder I see my love's castle,
Close by the sa't sea strand.'
She has ta'en her young son in her arms,
And to the door she's gone,
And lang she's knocked and sair she ca'd,
But answer got she none.
'O open the door, Love Gregor,' she says,
'O open, and let me in;
For the wind blaws thro' my yellow hair,
And the rain draps o'er my chin.'
'Awa, awa, ye ill woman,
You'r nae come here for good;
You'r but some witch, or wile warlock,
Or mer-maid of the flood.'
'I am neither a witch nor a wile warlock,
Nor mer-maid of the sea,
I am Fair Annie of Rough Royal;
O open the door to me.'
'Gin ye be Annie of Rough Royal--
And I trust ye are not she--
Now tell me some of the love-tokens
That past between you and me.'
'O dinna you mind now, Love Gregor,
When we sat at the wine,
How we changed the rings frae our fingers?
And I can show thee thine.
'O yours was good, and good enough,
But ay the best was mine;
For yours was o' the good red goud,
But mine o' the diamonds fine.
'But open the door now, Love Gregor,
O open the door I pray,
For your young son that is in my arms
Will be dead ere it be day.'
'Awa, awa, ye ill woman,
For here ye shanno win in;
Gae drown ye in the raging sea,
Or hang on the gallows-pin.'
When the cock had crawn, and day did dawn,
And the sun began to peep,
Then up he rose him, Love Gregor,
And sair, sair did he weep.
'O I dreamd a dream, my mother dear,
The thoughts o' it gars me greet,
That Fair Annie of Rough Royal
Lay cauld dead at my feet.'
'Gin it be for Annie of Rough Royal
That ye make a' this din,
She stood a' last night at this door,
But I trow she wan no in.'
'O wae betide ye, ill woman,
An ill dead may ye die!
That ye woudno open the door to her,
Nor yet woud waken me.'
O he has gone down to yon shore-side,
As fast as he could fare;
He saw Fair Annie in her boat,
But the wind it tossd her sair.
And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie!
O Annie, winna ye bide?'
But ay the mair that he cried 'Annie,'
The braider grew the tide.
And 'Hey, Annie!' and 'How, Annie!
Dear Annie, speak to me!'
But ay the louder he cried 'Annie,'
The louder roard the sea.
The wind blew loud, the sea grew rough,
And dashd the boat on shore;
Fair Annie floats on the raging sea,
But her young son rose no more.
Love Gregor tare his yellow hair,
And made a heavy moan;
Fair Annie's corpse lay at his feet,
But his bonny young son was gone.
O cherry, cherry was her cheek,
And gowden was her hair,
But clay cold were her rosey lips,
Nae spark of life was there,
And first he's kissd her cherry cheek,
And neist he's kissed her chin;
And saftly pressd her rosey lips,
But there was nae breath within.
'O wae betide my cruel mother,
And an ill dead may she die!
For she turnd my true-love frae my door,
When she came sae far to me.'
poem by Andrew Lang
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