There was a Young Lady whose chin
Resembled the point of a pin;
So she had it made sharp,
And purchased a harp,
And played several tunes with her chin.
by Edward Lear from A Book of Nonsense (1846)
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Related quotes
There was a Young Lady of Welling,
Whose praise all the world was a-telling;
She played on a harp,
And caught several carp,
That accomplished Young Lady of Wel
quote by by Edward Lear
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An Improver
Maisie's been holding down her head all day,
Her little red head. And her pointed chin
Rests on her neck that slips so softly in
The square-cut low-necked darling dress she made
In such a way, since it's high-waisted too,
It lets you guess how fair young breasts begin
Under the gentle pleasant folds of blue.
But on the roof at lunchtime when the sun
Shone warmly and the wind was blowing free
She lifted up her head to let me see
A little rosy mark beneath the chin—
The mark of kisses. If her mother knew
She'd be ashamed, but a girl-friend like me
Made her feel proud to show her kisses to.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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Romancing The Beard
What women are attracted to
Though to some it may seem weird
Is a man who has a curl-i-que
That we’ve come to call a beard
They seem to love what’s hair-ly
On the chin and down below
That hair they find so rarely
Is that hair that they can’t grow
They love that tickly feeling
When caressing bearded men
Those beards just send them reeling
For those men they have a yen
These ladies have this craving
For men with chin filled bristles
These men who do no shaving
Who have these chin filled frizzles
A beard can really dazzle
When covering a jawline
With it’s sexy kind of frazzle
It can dazzle any fraulein
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Rhythm
When red is black and petals blue
And in my sleepless head our love's been dead a week or two
Sometimes good times are stuck inside of you
And then they're gone. But I don't know why
A lot of things have changed since you said goodbye
There are reasons for you to love me
But I gave you none
So I tap my glass and nod my chin
And wonder who you've been in rhythm with
Sometimes just time, cause can't escape
When clouds are playing close, not often too far away
Blue has no value, power over you
Open skies, relationless
Carelessness is what I miss
And that's how I think of you
Sometimes good times are all we have to do
So I tap my glass and nod my chin
And wonder who you've been in rhythm with
So I tap my glass and nod my chin
And wonder who you've been in rhythm with
[Beautiful]
song performed by by Wilco
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Passion
The keys to notes play tunes of loss,
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
'Til metal enshrouding the air does trump with
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Wood and string provide a base for
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Encased in brass belong the bones of
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Emblems and traps do kick and swear by
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Until laughter disturbs this sweet eden,
My tortured soul lies bare.
I leave my emotions encapsulated
In sonic vibrations of air.
The tunes of longing and tunes of blues
Are played until the eve
When players no longer respect their tears
And thus, themselves, deceive.
poem by Liam O'Brien
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Penetration And Trust
I
Sleek as a lizard at round of a stone,
The look of her heart slipped out and in.
Sweet on her lord her soft eyes shone,
As innocents clear of a shade of sin.
II
He laid a finger under her chin,
His arm for her girdle at waist was thrown:
Now, what will happen and who will win,
With me in the fight and my lady lone?
III
He clasped her, clasping a shape of stone;
Was fire on her eyes till they let him in.
Her breast to a God of the daybeams shone,
And never a corner for serpent sin.
IV
Tranced she stood, with a chattering chin;
Her shrunken form at his feet was thrown:
At home to the death my lord shall win,
When it is no tyrant who leaves me lone!
poem by George Meredith
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The was a Young Lady of Bute,
Who played on a silver-gilt flute;
She played several jigs,
To her uncle's white pigs,
That amusing Young Lady of Bute.
by Edward Lear from A Book of Nonsense (1846)
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Get Him Back
One man, he'd disappoint me
He'd give me the gouge and he take my glee
Now every other man I see
Remind me of the
One man who disappointed me
Wait 'til I get him back
He won't have a back to scratch
Yeah, keep turning that chin
And you will see my face
As I figure how to kill what I cannot catch
So I say "and on I go"
To another one who disappoint me so, oh oh
The next one up
A contemptible snob
He lived to put things in their place
He did a commendable job
He put himself so low
He can hardly even look me in the face
Wait 'til I get him back
He won't have a back to scratch
Yeah, keep turning that chin
And you will see my face
As I figure how to kill what I cannot catch
Oh, he made my blood just burn
I flipped so far
I thought that I would not return
But the last one I had
Who was getting my hopes up
I might have been a little fast to dismiss
I think he let me down when he didn't disappoint me
He didn't always guess right but he usually got my gist
So wait til I get him back
I'm gonna bring him home
And I'll watch him unpack
He keep turning that chin
And you will see my face
Is fixed on the one
I'm gonna get back
I'm gonna get him back
I am
I'm gonna get him back
I really am
song performed by by Fiona Apple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stupidity
Take a knife long and sharp
hold it just below your chin
and...
Do it yourself
that will be better
than waiting callously
Pranab k c
11/09/2011
poem by Pranab K. Chakraborty
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How Long Has This Been Going On
I could cry some chin-chin tears
Where have I been all these years
A little while come on tell me now
How long has this been going on
What a kick and how I buzz
My son you click like nobody does
Listen sweet I repeat
How long has this been going on
Chorus:
I feel like I could melt right into heaven
Ive heard
And now I know how columbus felt
Finding another world
Kiss me once and then again once more
God what a dunce I was before
What a break for heaven sake
How long has this been going on
Chorus
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mirror Never Lies
The mirror once told me that
My face was smooth and cute
My chin as bare as the Sahara
As the Sun counted our days
The moon counted our nights
And seasons exchanged fortunes
The mirror told me something new
All the smoothness is gone
As if it has been different ever since
My chin has turned into a bush
The mirror showed me a total stranger
This morning!
1999
poem by Yusuf Adamu
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Ladies
Agathas
Four and forty lovers had Agathas in the old days,
All of whom she refused;
And now she turns to me seeking love,
And her hair also is turning.
Young Lady
I have fed your lar with poppies,
I have adored you for three full years;
And now you grumble because your dress does not fit
And because I happen to say so.
Lesbia Illa
Memnon, Menmon, that lady
Who used to walk about amongst us
With such gracious uncertainty,
Is now wedded
To a British householder.
Lugete, Veneres! Lugete, Cupidinesque !
Passing
Flawless as Aphrodite,
Thoroughly beautiful,
Brainless,
The faint odour of your patchouli,
Faint, almost, as the lines of cruelty about your chin,
Assails me, and concerns me almost as little.
poem by Ezra Pound
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The Colored Band
W'EN de colo'ed ban' comes ma'chin' down de street,
Don't you people stan' daih starin'; lif' yo' feet!
Ain't dey playin'? Hip, hooray!
Stir yo' stumps an' cleah de way,
Fu' de music dat dey mekin' can't be beat.
Oh, de major man's a-swingin' of his stick,
An' de pickaninnies crowdin' roun' him thick;
In his go'geous uniform,
He's de lightnin' of de sto'm,
An' de little clouds erroun' look mighty slick.
You kin hyeah a fine perfo'mance w'en de white ban's serenade,
An' dey play dey high-toned music mighty sweet,
But hit's Sousa played in rag-time, an' hit's Rastus'on Parade,
W'en de colo'ed ban' comes ma'chin' down de street.
W'en de colo'ed ban' comes ma'chin' down de street
You kin hyeah de ladies all erroun' repeat:
'Ain't dey handsome? Ain't dey gran'?
Ain't dey splendid? Goodness, lan'!
W'y dey's pu'fect f'om dey fo'heads to dey feet!'
An' sich steppin' to de music down de line,
'T ain't de music by itself dat meks it fine,
Hit's de walkin', step by step,
An' de keepin' time wid 'Hep,'
Dat it mek a common ditty soun' divine.
Oh, de white ban' play hits music, an' hit's mighty good to hyeah,
An' it sometimes leaves a ticklin' in yo' feet;
But de hea't goes into bus'ness fu' to he'p erlong de eah,
W'en de colo'ed ban' goes marchin' down de street.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Buttercup
Summer is brought
through this lemon zest
of colour-
reflected under the chin,
means, that you like
a flavour.
And in the meadows
of childhood,
and Laughter's happiness,
caught between
the embrace of trees,
at Glendalough,
we sit together.
Like buttercups
In the meadow of laughter,
A reflection upon my chin,
and smile and
laughter,
like a buttercup in
The summer meadow,
Your happiness,
reflects and refracts.
poem by Bernard Kennedy
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The Tin-Whistle Player
'Tis long since, long since, since I heard
A tin-whistle played,
And heard the tunes, the ha'penny tunes
That nobody made!
The tunes that were before Cendfind
And Cir went Ireland's rounds
That were before the surety
That strings have given sounds!
And now is standing in the mist,
And jigging backward there,
Shrilling with fingers and with breath,
A tin-whistle player!
He has hare's eyes, a long face rimmed
Around with badger-grey;
Aimless, like cries of mountain birds
The tunes he has to play
The tunes that are for stretches bare,
And men whose lives are lone
And I had seen that face of his
Sculptured on cross of stone,
That long face, in a place of graves
With nettles overgrown.
poem by Padraic Colum
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Submiit This
Where was I when life went left
Then took a right and flexed
take it on the chin
Not on your shin
Play awhile with life
Not forever but now
where was I when life was hexed
Taken by a sin
Not forever but right
But took a left on the chin
Not but for life left
But for sin and sex.
Dont You Let Me Down
Baby, dont you let me down (dont you let me down)
Dont you leave me lonely (dont you leave me lonely)
Dont you run around
I said baby (baby) when Im on the ground, yeah
(when Im on the ground)
Try to keep my chin up, feel Im fallin farther down
Ooh, you know Im feelin sorry
But I know that wont do
Ooh, looks like theres no tomorrow
Theres no tomorrow without you
Baby (baby) dont you let me down (dont you let me down)
Dont you leave me lonely (dont you leave me lonely)
Or run around
I said baby (baby) when Im on the ground, yeah
(when Im on the ground)
Try to keep my chin up, feel Im fallin farther down
Ooh, remember when you smile so bright
Raise my heart up to my throat
Ooh, sure took hard times to drag me down
So darlin brighten up all of my hopes
Baby (baby) when Im on the ground, yeah
(when Im on the ground)
Try to keep my chin up, feel Im fallin farther down
Try to keep my chin up, feel Im fallin farther down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin down, down, down
Fallin
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Portrait Of 1783
Your hair and chin are like the hair
And chin Burne-Jones's ladies wear;
You were unfashionably fair
In '83;
And sad you were when girls are gay,
You read a book about Le vrai
Merite de l'homme, alone in May.
What CAN it be,
Le vrai merite de l'homme? Not gold,
Not titles that are bought and sold,
Not wit that flashes and is cold,
But Virtue merely!
Instructed by Jean-Jacques Rousseau
(And Jean-Jacques, surely, ought to know),
You bade the crowd of foplings go,
You glanced severely,
Dreaming beneath the spreading shade
Of 'that vast hat the Graces made;'
So Rouget sang--while yet he played
With courtly rhyme,
And hymned great Doisi's red perruque,
And Nice's eyes, and Zulme's look,
And dead canaries, ere he shook
The sultry time
With strains like thunder. Loud and low
Methinks I hear the murmur grow,
The tramp of men that come and go
With fire and sword.
They war against the quick and dead,
Their flying feet are dashed with red,
As theirs the vintaging that tread
Before the Lord.
O head unfashionably fair,
What end was thine, for all thy care?
We only see thee dreaming there:
We cannot see
The breaking of thy vision, when
The Rights of Man were lords of men,
When virtue won her own again
In '93.
poem by Andrew Lang
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Sonnet IX: Passion And Worship
One flame-winged brought a white-winged harp-player
Even where my lady and I lay all alone;
Saying: “Behold, this minstrel is unknown;
Bid him depart, for I am minstrel here:
Only my strains are to Love's dear ones dear.”
Then said I: “Through thine hautboy's rapturous tone
Unto my lady still this harp makes moan,
And still she deems the cadence deep and clear.”
Then said my lady: “Thou art Passion of Love,
And this Love's Worship: both he plights to me.
Thy mastering music walks the sunlit sea:
But where wan water trembles in the grove
And the wan moon is all the light thereof,
This harp still makes my name its voluntary.”
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Instant Tunes
Instant tunes only just been made
Instant songs never to be played
Instant tunes hanging out to dry
Let me try to introduce you to
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Instant tunes give instant cash
Make me want to start a backlash
Let me have the recipe
And make me some lovely, lovely
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Instant tunes give instant cash
Make me want to start a backlash
Let me have the recipe
And make me some lovely, lovely
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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