Marjorie’s Wooing
THE corn was yellow upon the cliffs,
The fluttering grass was green to see,
The waves were blue as the sky above,
And the sun it was shining merrily.
'Marjorie, Marjorie! do you love me,
Faithfully, truly as I love you?'
The little lass reddened, and whitened, and smiled,
And answered him with her clear eyes of blue.
'Marjorie, you are but gentle and young;
I am too old and too rough for you.'
The little lass, trustfully giving her hand,
Answered, 'I love you, faithful and true.'
'Marjorie, Marjorie, when shall we wed?'
'As soon as you will it,—to-morrow, to-day.'
'Marjorie, Marjorie, if you knew all,
Would you still say me the words that you say?'
'If I knew all?' said the little lass,
'I know you are Kenneth, the brave and strong;
I know that I love, and that you are good:
I will know it e'er, and have known it long.'
'Marjorie, Marjorie, if I should say
I fled from prison to come to you;
I stabbed a man all for jealous love;
I am not noble, nor good, nor true?'
'Kenneth, your eyes would belie your words,'
Boldly and bravely the lass replied.
'Why should God fill them with love and truth,
And your heart with cruelty, hate, and pride?'
'Marjorie, Marjorie, if I should say
That I loved many ere I loved you?'
'Ere you had seen me,' Marjorie said,
' How could you know I was loving and true?'
'Marjorie, Marjorie, if I should say
That I was outcast on land and on sea?'
'All the more reason,' the little maid said,
' Why you should ever be loved by me.'
'Marjorie, Marjorie, if I should say
That I was noble, and titled, and grand;
Lord of the woods, and the castle, and park,
Lord of the acres of corn o'er the land?'
Dropping a courtesy, the little lass said,
'Still should I love you and ever be true;
But if you found me too lowly and poor,
I should bid farewell and go die for you.'
'Marjorie, darling, I tell you then,
This is the truth, and the land is mine,
And the castle, the park, and the vessel far off,
And whatever is mine, is thine, dear, thine!'
poem by Emma Lazarus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Young Benjie
Of all the maids of fair Scotland,
The fairest was Marjorie;
And young Benjie was her ae true love,
And a dear true love was he.
And wow but they were lovers dear,
And lov'd full constantlie;
But aye the mair when they fell out,
The sairer was their plea.
And they ha'e quarrell'd on a day,
Till Marjorie's heart grew wae;
And she said she'd chuse another luve,
And let young Benjie gae.
And he was stout and proud-hearted,
And thought o't bitterlie;
And he's gane by the wan moonlight,
To meet his Marjorie.
'Oh, open, open, my true love,
Oh, open and let me in!'
'I darena open, young Benjie,
My three brothers are within.'
'Ye lee, ye lee, ye bonnie burd,
Sae loud's I hear ye lee;
As I came by the Louden banks,
They bade gude e'en to me.
'But fare ye weel, my ae fause love,
That I have lov'd sae lang!
It sets ye chuse another love,
And let young Benjie gang.'
Then Marjorie turn'd her round about,
The tear blinding her e'e;
'I darena, darena let thee in,
But I'll come down to thee.'
Then salt she smil'd, and said to him--
'Oh, what ill ha'e I done?'
He took her in his arms twa,
And threw her o'er the linn.
The stream was strong, the maid was stout,
And laith, laith to be dang;
But ere she wan the Louden banks,
Her fair colour was wan.
Then up bespake her eldest brother--
'Oh, see na ye what I see?'
And out then spake her second brother--
'It is our sister Marjorie!'
Out then spake her eldest brother--
'Oh, how shall we her ken?'
And out then spake her youngest brother--
'There's a honey mark on her chin.'
Then they've ta'en the comely corpse,
And laid it on the ground;
Saying--'Wha has kill'd our ae sister?
And how can he be found?
'The night it is her low lykewake,
The morn her burial day;
And we maun watch at mirk midnight,
And hear what she will say.'
With doors ajar, and candles light,
And torches burning clear,
The streekit corpse, till still midnight,
They waked, but naething hear.
About the middle of the night
The cocks began to craw;
And at the dead hour of the night,
The corpse began to thraw.
'Oh, wha has done thee wrang, sister,
Or dared the deadly sin?
Wha was sae stout, and fear'd nae dout,
As throw ye o'er the linn?'
'Young Benjie was the first ae man
I laid my love upon;
He was sae stout and proud-hearted,
He threw me o'er the linn.'
'Shall we young Benjie head, sister?
Shall we young Benjie hang?
Or shall we pike out his twa gray een,
And punish him ere he gang?'
'Ye maunna Benjie head, brothers,
Ye maunna Benjie hang;
But ye maun pike out his twa gray een.
And punish him ere he gang.
'Tie a green gravat round his neck,
And lead him out and in,
And the best ae servant about your house
To wait young Benjie on.
'And aye at every seven years' end,
Ye'll take him to the linn;
For that's the penance he maun dree,
To scug his deadly sin.'
poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Soli Cantare Periti Arcades
Oh, I would live in a dairy,
And its Colin I would be,
And many a rustic fairy
Should churn the milk with me.
Or the fields should be my pleasure,
And my flocks should follow me,
Piping a frolic measure
For Joan or Marjorie.
For the town is black and weary,
And I hate the London street;
But the country ways are cheery,
And country lanes are sweet.
Good luck to you, Paris ladies!
Ye are over fine and nice
I know where the country maid is,
Who needs not asking twice.
Ye are brave in your silks and satins,
As ye mince about the Town;
But her feet go free in pattens,
If she wear a russet gown.
If she be not queen nor goddess
She shall milk my brown-eyed herds,
And the breasts beneath her bodice
Are whiter than her curds.
So I will live in a dairy,
And its Colin I will be,
And its Joan that I will marry,
Or, haply, Marjorie.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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Sorrow was like the wind. It came in gusts.
quote by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Man is the only creature whose emotions are entangled with his memory.
quote by Marjorie Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The man who treasures his friends is usually solid gold himself.
quote by Marjorie Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I agree with Marjorie Rosen's good psychological analysis of my acting ability.
quote by Pola Negri
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A woman never forgets the men she could have had; a man, the women he couldn't.
aphorism by Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings
Submitted by George Budoi
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A child's hand in yours -- what tenderness and power it arouses. You are instantly the very touchstone of wisdom and strength.
quote by Marjorie Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What feeling is so nice as a child's hand in yours So small, so soft and warm, like a kitten huddling in the shelter of your clasp.
quote by Marjorie Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What feeling is so nice as a child's hand in yours? So small, so soft and warm, like a kitten huddling in the shelter of your clasp.
quote by Marjorie Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hate It
I hate the way you look at me
I hate the way you stare
I hate the way you tell me you love me
Even more when you say you care
I hate the way you hold my hand
I hate the smell of your sweater
I hate the way you hug me
And tell me things are going to get better
I hate the way you wear your hat
And the way you drive your car
I hate that I can’t see you
Why do you have to be so far?
I hate the way I can’t hate you
And I hate how I can’t give up
poem by Marjorie Pickering
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J-Power
That you think you are less
Than you were
Because you love someone
Is the saddest commentary
On the power of intolerance
On the power of labels
On the power of prejudice
December 29,1996
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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Finis
Give me a few more hours to pass
With the mellow flower of the elm-bough falling,
And then no more than the lonely grass
And the birds calling.
Give me a few more days to keep
With a little love and a little sorrow,
And then the dawn in the skies of sleep
And a clear to-morrow.
Give me a few more years to fill
With a little work and a little lending,
And then the night on a starry hill
And the road's ending.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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J-Companion, Partner, Lover
The explosion of joy
The implosion of sadness
The wonder of pleasure
The ordinary talk
The mundane afternoon
The long night
The loveliness of morning
Shared
October 18,2000
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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There is nothing a woman can't do. Men might think they do things all by themselves but a woman is always there guiding them or helping them.
quote by Marjorie Joyner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Going Home
UNDER the young moon's slender shield
With the wind's cool lips on mine,
I went home from the Rabitty Field
As the clocks were striking nine.
The yews were dark in the level light,
The thorn-trees dropped with gold,
And a partridge called where the dew was white
In the grass on the edge of the fold.
O, had your hand been in my hand
As the long chalk-road I trod,
The green hills of the lovely land
Had seemed the hills of God.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Again
JUST to live under green leaves and see them
Just to lie under low stars and watch them wane,
Just to sleep by a kind heart and know it loving
Again–
Just to wake on a sunny day and the wind blowing,
Just to walk on a bare road in the bright rain,–
These, O God, and the night, and the moon showing
Again–
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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The Chosen
CALLED to a way too high for me, I lean
Out from my narrow window o'er the street,
and know the fields I cannot see are green,
And guess the songs I cannot hear are sweet.
Break up the vision round me, Lord, and thrust
Me from Thy side, unhoused without the bars,
For all my heart is hungry for the dust
And all my soul is weary of the stars.
I would seek out a little roof instead,
A little lamp to make my darkness brave.
'For though she heal a multitude,' Love said,
'Herself she cannot save.'
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Takeback
I take it all back
I wanted to say
It was momentary, meaningless
You don't dance this dance
How can I
Feel this way
Cry at the beauty of a fall flower
Marvel at your intellect
Wonder at your sense of the ordinary
Laugh with you at some mistake, yours or ours
When you don't dance this dance of love
September 19,1996
poem by Marjorie DeBol DeFazio
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I find the great thing in this world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving: To reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it, but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor.
quote by Marjorie Holmes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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