Jessie
When I remark her golden hair
Swoon on her glorious shoulders,
I marvel not that sight so rare
Doth ravish all beholders;
For summon hence all pretty girls
Renowned for beauteous tresses,
And you shall find among their curls
There's none so fair as Jessie's.
And Jessie's eyes are, oh, so blue
And full of sweet revealings--
They seem to look you through and through
And read your inmost feelings;
Nor black emits such ardent fires,
Nor brown such truth expresses--
Admit it, all ye gallant squires--
There are no eyes like Jessie's.
Her voice (like liquid beams that roll
From moonland to the river)
Steals subtly to the raptured soul,
Therein to lie and quiver;
Or falls upon the grateful ear
With chaste and warm caresses--
Ah, all concede the truth (who hear):
There's no such voice as Jessie's.
Of other charms she hath such store
All rivalry excelling,
Though I used adjectives galore,
They'd fail me in the telling;
But now discretion stays my hand--
Adieu, eyes, voice, and tresses.
Of all the husbands in the land
There's none so fierce as Jessie's.
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Jesse's Girl
Jessie is a friend,
yeah, I know he's been
a good friend of mine
But lately something's changed
that ain't hard to define
Jessie's got himself a girl
and I want to make her mine
And she's watching him with those eyes
And she's lovin' him with that body,
I just know it
Yeah 'n' he's holding her
in his arms late,
late at night
You know, I wish that I had Jessie's girl,
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
Where can I find a woman like that
I play along with the charade,
there doesn't seem to be
a reason to change
You know, I feel so dirty
when they start talking cute
I wanna tell her that I love her,
but the point is probably moot
'Cos she's watching him with those eyes
And she's lovin' him with that body,
I just know it
And he's holding her
in his arms late, late at night
Like Jessie's girl,
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
Where can I find a woman,
where can I find a woman like that
And I'm lookin' in the mirror all the time,
wondering what she don't see in me
I've been funny,
I've been cool with the lines
Ain't that the way
love supposed to be
Tell me, where can I find a woman like that
(Solo)
You know, I wish that I had Jessie's girl,
I wish that I had Jessie's girl
I want Jessie's girl,
where can I find a woman like that, like
Jessie's girl,
I wish that I had Jessie's girl,
I want,
I want Jessie's girl
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Complimentary Versicles to Jessie Lewars
THE TOAST
Fill me with the rosy wine,
Call a toast, a toast divine:
Giveth me Poet’s darling flame,
Lovely Jessie be her name;
Then thou mayest freely boast,
Thou hast given a peerless toast.
THE MENAGERIE
Talk not to me of savages,
From Afric’s burning sun;
No savage e’er could rend my heart,
As Jessie, thou hast done:
But Jessie’s lovely hand in mine,
A mutual faith to plight,
Not even to view the heavenly choir,
Would be so blest a sight.
JESSIE’S ILLNESS
Say, sages, what’s the charm on earth
Can turn Death’s dart aside!
It is not purity and worth,
Else Jessie had not died.
ON HER RECOVERY
But rarely seen since Nature’s birth,
The natives of the sky;
Yet still one seraph’s left on earth,
For Jessie did not die.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
To Miss Jessie Lewars
The sun lies clasped in amber cloud
Half hidden in the sea,
And o'er the sands the flowing tide
Comes racing merrilee.
The hawthorn hedge is white with bloom
The wind is soft and lown
And sad and still you watch by me
Your hand clasped in my own.
Oh, let the curtain bide, Jessie
And lift my head a wee,
And let the bonnie setting sun
Glint in on you and me.
The world seems fair and bright, Jessie
Near loving hearts like you,
But poonith's blast sifts simmer love,
And makes leal friendships few.
How aften in the dreary night,
I clasp my burning hands
Upon those throbbing sleepless lids,
O'er eyes like glowing brands,
And ponder in my weary brain,
If haply when I'm dead
My old boon friends for love of me
Will give my bairnies bread.
Oh, did the poor not help the poor,
Each in their simple way,
With humble gift and kindly love,
God pity them I say.
For many a man who clasped my hand
With friendship o'er the bowl
When the wine halo had passed away
Proved but a niggard soul.
Oh, blessed hope 'midst our distress,
There is a promise made,
That in the day the rough wind blows,
The east wind shall be stayed.
A few short years and those I love
Will come again to me,
In that bright land withoout a sun,
That land without a sea.
Oh, wilt thou gang o'nights, Jessie,
To my forsaken hearth,
And be as thou has been to me,
The truest friend on earth.
So sweetly in your linnet voice,
You'll sing my weans to rest,
While Jessie leans her weary head,
Upon thy loving breast.
Oh, what is fame? Its wealth of lays
Cools not the fevered brow,
Wilt tell his name in future days
Who whistled at the plough
And wrote a simple song or two,
For happier hearts to sing
Among the shining sheaves of corn
Or round the household ring.
Yet would I praise the bubble fame
If but my artless lays
Brought thy true worth and lovingness
For future time to praise.
True friend I bless the poet skill
Which won a friend like thee,
Whose love 'twixt hopes of home and heaven
Is with me constantly.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Lover's Lament
In vain do springtime's many charms essay
To chase the gloom in Aray's glen to-day ;
The strains that there once charmed my listening ear
Can ne'er again avail my heart to cheer.
When that fair star, so late my soul's delight,
Hath vanished, never more to cheer my sight,
—
'When my fond heart, sad-missing joy so brief,
Lies in the dust, enamoured of its grief,
—
When, for the couch she soon might reach, fove-led.
The grave becometh Jessie's bridal bed.
Well may the tears of friendship freely flow,
And life to me be an unending woe.
Insatiate Death ! was it to make us see
How all impartial fly thy arrows, we
Are left to mourn her dead, whose graces might
Make even thee ashamed our prayers to slight ?
Alas for Life ! its frail unequal thread
Is, like the gossamer in sunshine spread,
The ready wreck of the first passing blast,
And yieldeth first where it should longest last.
'Tis thus that all too soon in death's cold sleep
Closed Jessie's eyes, while mine are left to weep ;
Better it were, than thus be left, to have
My own last sleep beside her iu the grave.
Shade of my love ! if it indeed be true
That spirits blest, though hidden from our view,
May still be round us, guardian angels rare,
Oh, be it mine to feel thee often near,—
An inspiration ever leading me
To justify thy loving sympathy
By actions such as may alone secure
The conscious favour of thy spirit pure.
Come then, in all thy wonted, loving grace.
Making the grief, now my sole guest, give place
To the sweet hope that, this vain hfe once o'er,
I'll see thee and be near thee evermore.
poem by Evan MacColl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jessie Mitchell’s Mother
Into her mother’s bedroom to wash the ballooning body.
“My mother is jelly-hearted and she has a brain of jelly:
Sweet, quiver-soft, irrelevant. Not essential.
Only a habit would cry if she should die.
A pleasant sort of fool without the least iron. . . .
Are you better, mother, do you think it will come today?”
The stretched yellow rag that was Jessie Mitchell’s mother
Reviewed her. Young, and so thin, and so straight.
So straight! as if nothing could ever bend her.
But poor men would bend her, and doing things with poor men,
Being much in bed, and babies would bend her over,
And the rest of things in life that were for poor women,
Coming to them grinning and pretty with intent to bend and to kill.
Comparisons shattered her heart, ate at her bulwarks:
The shabby and the bright: she, almost hating her daughter,
Crept into an old sly refuge: “Jessie’s black
And her way will be black, and jerkier even than mine.
Mine, in fact, because I was lovely, had flowers
Tucked in the jerks, flowers were here and there. . . .”
She revived for the moment settled and dried-up triumphs,
Forced perfume into old petals, pulled up the droop,
Refueled
Triumphant long-exhaled breaths.
Her exquisite yellow youth . . .
poem by Gwendolyn Brooks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Beautiful Rothesay
Beautiful Rothesay, your scenery is most grand,
You cannot be surpassed in fair Scotland.
Tis healthy for holiday makers, to go there,
For the benefit of their health, by inhaling the pure air
And to hear the innocent birds, on a fine Summer day,
Carolling their sweet songs, so lively and gay,
Therefore, holiday makers, be advised by me,
And visit beautiful Rothesay, by the side of the Sea.
Then sweet Jessie, let us go,
To Scotland's garden of Eden O!
And spend the lovely Summer day,
In the beautiful village of Rothesay.
There you can see the ships, passing to and fro,
Which will drive away dull care, and woe,
And, the heavens breath smells wooingly there,
Therefore, let's away dear Jessie, to inhale the balmy air.
The mansions, there, are most beautiful to be seen,
Likewise the trees, and shrubberies, green.
Therefore, we will feel happy and gay,
Walking hand in hand, together the live long day.
Along the beautiful walks with our hearts fu' cheerie,
My dear love! Until we grow weary.
Then, return home at night, with our spirits light and gay,
After viewing the beautiful scenery of Rothesay.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I dreaded doing close-ups.
quote by Jessie Matthews
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Simplicity is the peak of civilization.
quote by Jessie Sampter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Ballad Of Jesse James
Jesse james was a man
And he killed many men
He robbed the glendale train
And he took from the richer
And he gave that to the poorer
Hed a hand and a heart and a brain
Oh jesse had a wife to mourn for his life
Three children they were so brave
But that dirty little coward
That shot mr. howard
Has laid jesse james in his grave
(instrumental)
On wednesday night
When the moon was shining bright
They robbed that glendale train
And the folks from miles about (yeah they can)
They all said without a doubt
It was done by her frankie and jesse james (yes it was)
Oh jessie had a wife, to mourn for his life
Three children they were so brave
But that dirty little coward
That shot mr. howard
Has laid (poor) jesse james in his grave
(instrumental)
Well the people held their breath
When they heard about jesses death (yeah)
And they wondered how poor jesse came to die (how did he die? )
It was one of his guys, called little robert ford
And he shot jessie james on the sly
Oh jessie had a wife to mourn for his life
Three children they were so brave
But that dirty little coward
That shot mr. howard
Has laid jesse james in his grave
Has laid poor jesse in his grave
He laid jesse james in his grave
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I had a flair for comedy and could give a sustained performance.
quote by Jessie Matthews
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Heroes
This war's dead heroes, who has seen them?
They rise in smoke above the burning city,
Faint clouds, dissolving into sky —
And who sifting the Libyan sand can find
The tracery of a human hand,
The faint impression of an absent mind,
The fade-out of a soldier's day dream?
You'll know your love no more, nor his sweet kisses —
He's forgotten you, girl, and in the idle sun
In long green grass that the east wind caresses
The seed of man is ravished by the corn.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I collaborated on most of my dance numbers, literally 50/50, with the choreographers I worked with.
quote by Jessie Matthews
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Jessica
When you walked into the room looking like jean harlow
Oh jessie, everyone looked at you, youre a lady
Though I know that youve been around the world
Maybe two or three times in your daddys pocket
Im gonna break that rich-bitch thing with you
Oh, jessica, youre a lady
If it takes all night youre gonna be nice
Oh, jessica, I think lady
That cold, hard front could melt like ice
Jessica, jessica, jessica, jessica
Cold like a killers eyes
Stay with me jessica
Youre a lady of the world, youve been to paris and london
But jessie, it doesnt mean a thing to you when youre lonely
Though youd have to have a heart of stone
To put me on my knees
I know you aint got it
Im gonna get to you no matter what you do
Oh, jessica, youre a lady
If it takes all night youre gonna be nice
Oh, jessica, I think lady
That cold, hard front could melt like ice
Jessica, jessica,
Jessica, jessica
Cold like a killers eyes
Stay with me jessica
Jessica, youre a lady
Jessica, youre a lady
Jessica, jessica, oh
Jessica, youre a lady
Take me home in your big black car
Oh jessica, I think lady
Youre not as hard as they think you are
Jessica, jessica, jessica, jessica
Fire up your cold heart
And stay with me, jessica
Stay with me, jessica
Stay with me, jessica
Jessica, youre a lady
Jessica, youre a lady
Jessica, jessica
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Address of a New Poetess To All Poets Here
As I open my partner this site I see
And closing it too, this site I live
In my mind and my heart I smiled gently
Jessie, at last the search you see.
I joined and left some sites I register
Thought it's nice I registered as a member
Poetry and friendship I want to share
But in the end discrimination reigns.
Ratings and comments really boost morale
Spirits rises get inspired and poetic as I
Creative and imaginative minds do survive
Knowledge, talents hidden or not described.
Surfing the web for my compositions
A poet friend introduced this portion
Sharing in my heart I thought I found
Comments and ratings not in my mind.
They are good if one needs a push
It is a flavor that a creative may savor
But to the competitors it's not a favor
Bet, surely come and show real color.
As I read and commented to a poem
Reading the history of her comments
Rise both my brows I was surprised,
Here too, a competition trouble arise?
Where on web can I join and may find
A place where no feuds and race arise?
Or can we just let that comments be
A guide for better and competition free?
poem by Jessie Clarete Bernabe Cadsawan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In films, the fact that you can always do a scene again takes a load off your mind, enabling you to strive for perfection, which I always wanted.
quote by Jessie Matthews
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Party
(words & music by jessie mae robinson)
I feel it in my leg,
I feel it in my shoe
Tell me pretty baby
If you think you feel it too
Lets have a party
Lets have a party
Send to the store
And lets buy some more
And lets have a party tonight
Some people like to rock
Some people like to roll
But movin and a groovin
Gonna satisfy my soul
Ive never kissed a bear
Ive never kissed a goon
But I can shake a chicken
In the middle of the room
Now honky tonky joe
Is knockin at the door
Bring him in and fill him up
And set him on the floor
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Mother Mine
Nevermore her sweet caresses
Nevermore her soft blue eyes.
Heaven-blown her ebon tresses,
Smiling lips I idolized.
Sing farewell, farewell forever,
Child of the wind-blown sea,
Tender heart and soul unfettered
Garlands in eternity.
Fleeting soul transcends the sparrows,
Soaring with the snow-white dove;
Sad of soul all my tomorrows,
Grieving for her purest love.
Sweetest voice a loving whisper
On the wings of memory.
Tender canticle of sisters,
Song of all maternity.
Child am I to my dear mother,
Evermore her child to be.
Child is she to yet another,
Sisters in eternity.
Envoi
Nevermore her sweet caresses
Nevermore her soft blue eyes.
Heaven-blown her ebon tresses.
Mother mine I eulogize.
poem by Alicia Patti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Worry About Money
Wearing worry about money like a hair shirt
I lie down in my bed and wrestle with my angel.
My bank-manager could not sanction my continuance for another day
But life itself wakes me each morning, and love
Urges me to give although I have no money
In the bank at this moment, and ought properly
To cease to exist in a world where poverty
Is a shameful and ridiculous offence.
Having no one to advise me, I open the Bible
And shut my eyes and put my finger on a text
And read that the widow with the young son
Must give first to the prophetic genius
From the little there is in the bin of flour and the cruse of oil.
poem by Kathleen Jessie Raine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Eyes for me
Lonely, till i hear the word, 'lovely! '
lonely, until my mistakes are accepted gladly.
lonely, until i'm missed terribly.
Lovely it is, and without it i'm lonely.
Gladly i'd accept if asked, for i feel lonely.
Terribly i convey my heart and it remains lonely.
Looked for it everywhere,
looked for him without a corner to spare.
Looked but dint see, eyes for only me so rare.
Everywhere i turned, saw others being looked for.
Spared not a tear, for him to be as before.
Rarely it is true, whats said in a folklore.
poem by Jessie Peter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Big Jess Big Newfoundland Next Door
You look beautiful at least I think so
With soft black hair black as a crow
And loving eyes horse chestnut brown
You are the finest dog your side of town.
Against canines I don't discriminate
Though some give me reason to hate
they growl at me snarl and bark
And show off their teeth like a shark.
But Jess you act different that's true
And that's one reason I like you,
You wag your tail and lick my hand
And your type of dog I understand.
With Kerry your friend gone away
You've got no one with whom you can play
Save sit on your haunches and sigh
And gaze at Mt Evelyn sky.
You are timid for a dog of your size
So beautiful gentle and wise
You want to make friends and not war
And you'll never see battle scar.
And though you must weigh fifty kilos or more
Big Jess big Newfoundland next door
You do not seek battle or strife
All you need is the peaceful life.
And though you may say that I've got the brains of a hog
For penning doggerel to a dog
But I'll tell you were I a true poet
For Jessie a poem I'd have wrote
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!