The Devoutly Thankful Lover
So Nell was married yesterday! -
Let's fill a bumper mellow,
And drain it to old Hymen's sway -
And to the lucky fellow.
Time was when 1 was 'gone' on her:
When each day I'd discover
Fresh charms to make my pulses stir,
And-fool-like-act the lover.
Her eyes were bright as stars at night,
Her lips were like to coral,
And Nell was, in her lover's sight,
As beautiful as moral.
But now with joy we drink his health,
Whom Nell did most prefer,
And wish him lots of luck and wealth
Who's lately married her.
I loved - for Nell was fair and tall,
And sweet as fragrant clover -
But now I love her most of all
Because - she threw me over.
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
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A-Shelling Peas
Now, all the world is green and bright
Outside the latticed pane;
The fields are decked with gold and white,
And Spring has come again.
But though the world be fair without,
With flow'rs and waving trees,
'Tis pleasanter to be about
Where Nell's a-shelling peas.
Her eyes are blue as cloudless skies,
And dimples deck her cheeks;
Whilst soft lights loiter in her eyes
Whene'er she smiles or speaks.
So all the sunlit morning-tide
I dally at mine ease,
To loaf at slender Nelly's side
When Nell's a-shelling peas.
This bard, who sits a-watching Nell,
With fingers white and slim,
Owns up that, as she breaks each shell,
She also "breaks up" him;
And could devoutly drop upon
Submissive, bended knees
To worship Nell with apron on -
A saint a-shelling peas.
The tucked-up muslin sleeves disclose
Her round arms white and bare -
'Tis only "shelling peas" that shows
Those dainty dimples there.
Old earth owns many sights to see
That captivate and please; -
The most bewitching sight for me
Is Nell a-shelling peas.
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant
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When You Least Expect It
Knock-kneed Nell had stories to tell
About all the sights she'd seen.
That sexy sway began her day....
Thinking how things could have been.
'I'll not condone a herringbone
For the price you want to pay!
Be off down the alley, old fool!
But, one man decided to stay.
Nell clawed like a cat, hissed, and spat.
The man stood his ground, and laughed.
'We'll take this to the marriage vows!
Clean my house, and cook my food!
In the marriage bed you can sass! '
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
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The Bird of Paradise
Here comes Kate Summers, who, for gold,
Takes any man to bed:
"You knew my friend, Nell Barnes," she said;
"You knew Nell Barnes -- she's dead.
"Nell Barnes was bad on all you men,
Unclean, a thief as well;
Yet all my life I have not found
A better friend than Nell.
"So I sat at her side at last,
For hours, till she was dead;
And yet she had no sense at all
Of any word I said.
"For all her cry but came to this --
'Not for the world! Take care:
Don't touch that bird of paradise,
Perched on the bed-post there!'
"I asked her would she like some grapes,
Som damsons ripe and sweet;
A custard made with new-laid eggs,
Or tender fowl to eat.
"I promised I would follow her,
To see her in her grave;
And buy a wreath with borrowed pence,
If nothing I could save.
"Yet still her cry but came to this --
'Not for the world! Take care:
Don't touch that bird of paradise,
Perched on the bed-post there!' "
poem by William Henry Davies
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Nell and John
When Nell, given o'er by the doctor, was dying,
And John at the chimney stood decently crying,
'Tis in vain said the woman to make such ado,
For to our long home we must all of us go.
True, Nell, replied John; but what yet is the worst
For us that remain, the best always go first;
Remember, dear wife, that I said so last year,
When you lost your white heifer, and I my brown mare.
poem by Matthew Prior
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Maude Clare
Out of the church she followed them
With a lofty step and mien:
His bride was like a village maid,
Maude Clare was like a queen.
“Son Thomas, ” his lady mother said,
With smiles, almost with tears:
“May Nell and you but live as true
As we have done for years;
“Your father thirty years ago
Had just your tale to tell;
But he was not so pale as you,
Nor I so pale as Nell.”
My lord was pale with inward strife,
And Nell was pale with pride;
My lord gazed long on pale Maude Clare
Or ever he kissed the bride.
“Lo, I have brought my gift, my lord,
Have brought my gift, ” she said:
To bless the hearth, to bless the board,
To bless the marriage-bed.
“Here’s my half of the golden chain
You wore about your neck,
That day we waded ankle-deep
For lilies in the beck:
“Here’s my half of the faded leaves
We plucked from the budding bough,
With feet amongst the lily leaves, -
The lilies are budding now.”
He strove to match her scorn with scorn,
He faltered in his place:
“Lady, ” he said, - “Maude Clare, ” he said, -
“Maude Clare, ” – and hid his face.
She turn’d to Nell: “My Lady Nell,
I have a gift for you;
Though, were it fruit, the blooms were gone,
Or, were it flowers, the dew.
“Take my share of a fickle heart,
Mine of a paltry love:
Take it or leave it as you will,
I wash my hands thereof.”
“And what you leave, ” said Nell, “I’ll take,
And what you spurn, I’ll wear;
For he’s my lord for better and worse,
And him I love Maude Clare.
“Yea, though you’re taller by the head,
More wise and much more fair:
I’ll love him till he loves me best,
Me best of all Maude Clare.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Roamin' Free
The miser sits beside his hoard,
The lover tarries by his bride,
And he who neither may afford
Is free to roam the whole world wide.
Ye prate of cares, of plans amiss;
With voices grave and faces long;
While I - I ask of life but this
To drink, to kiss, to troll a song
And rove a-roamin', roamin' free
A-ringin' in the changes.
Why linger here to waste a tear
When joy awaits o'er the ranges?
Why tarry there to nurse a care
When golden days are over?
For far and wide, where men abide,
There's welcome for the rover.
Who seeks to earn a life of ease:
For honor, wealth, and fame exist;
Then growing old and having these,
To sit and think of what he's miss'd?
I live for love of life alone;
You live in wait for fortune's smile
Quote proverbs at a rolling stone,
And gather moss and trouble while
I rove a-rollin', rollin' free
A-ringin' in the changes.
If there's no moss this side for me
There's heaps across the ranges.
So have your say and slave away,
And set a store by small things.
You may be lord of a hard-earned hoard,
But I'm the lord of all things.
Am I a constant lover? Nay:
Love bounded cloys, and bright eyes fade;
And he who loves and rides away
Rides on to meet a fairer maid.
'Tis sure, I'd find, if wed to Nell
'Twas Jess or Lil I loved the best.
My faith, I love them all too well
To choose but one and lose the rest.
And I live a-lovin', lovin' free
A-ringin' in the changes.
'Tis kiss me Nell, and now farewell,
Jess waits across the ranges.
And this, I boast, the rover's toast
You'll find the whole world over
'From names refrain, and tankards drain
To the lass that loves a rover.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Sir Barnaby Bampton Boo
This is SIR BARNABY BAMPTON BOO,
Last of a noble race,
BARNABY BAMPTON, coming to woo,
All at a deuce of a pace.
BARNABY BAMPTON BOO,
Here is a health to you:
Here is wishing you luck, you elderly buck -
BARNABY BAMPTON BOO!
The excellent women of Tuptonvee
Knew SIR BARNABY BOO;
One of them surely his bride would be,
But dickens a soul knew who.
Women of Tuptonvee,
Here is a health to ye
For a Baronet, dears, you would cut off your ears,
Women of Tuptonvee!
Here are old MR. and MRS. DE PLOW
(PETER his Christian name),
They kept seven oxen, a pig, and a cow -
Farming it was their game.
Worthy old PETER DE PLOW,
Here is a health to thou:
Your race isn't run, though you're seventy-one,
Worthy old PETER DE PLOW!
To excellent MR. and MRS. DE PLOW
Came SIR BARNABY BOO,
He asked for their daughter, and told 'em as how
He was as rich as a Jew.
BARNABY BAMPTON'S wealth,
Here is your jolly good health:
I'd never repine if you came to be mine,
BARNABY BAMPTON'S wealth!
"O great SIR BARNABY BAMPTON BOO"
(Said PLOW to that titled swell),
"My missus has given me daughters two -
AMELIA and VOLATILE NELL!"
AMELIA and VOLATILE NELL,
I hope you're uncommonly well:
You two pretty pearls - you extremely nice girls -
AMELIA and VOLATILE NELL!
"AMELIA is passable only, in face,
But, oh! she's a worthy girl;
Superior morals like hers would grace
The home of a belted Earl."
Morality, heavenly link!
To you I'll eternally drink:
I'm awfully fond of that heavenly bond,
Morality, heavenly link!
"Now NELLY'S the prettier, p'raps, of my gals,
But, oh! she's a wayward chit;
She dresses herself in her showy fal-lals,
And doesn't read TUPPER a bit!"
O TUPPER, philosopher true,
How do you happen to do?
A publisher looks with respect on your books,
For they DO sell, philosopher true!
The Bart. (I'll be hanged if I drink him again,
Or care if he's ill or well),
He sneered at the goodness of MILLY THE PLAIN,
And cottoned to VOLATILE NELL!
O VOLATILE NELLY DE P.!
Be hanged if I'll empty to thee:
I like worthy maids, not mere frivolous jades,
VOLATILE NELLY DE P.!
They bolted, the Bart. and his frivolous dear,
And MILLY was left to pout;
For years they've got on very well, as I hear,
But soon he will rue it, no doubt.
O excellent MILLY DE PLOW,
I really can't drink to you now;
My head isn't strong, and the song has been long,
Excellent MILLY DE PLOW!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Nell Flaherty’s Drake
MY NAME it is Nell, right candid I tell,
And I live near a dell I ne’er will deny,
I had a large drake, the truth for to spake,
My grandfather left me when going to die;
He was merry and sound, and would weigh twenty pound,
The universe round would I rove for his sake.
Bad luck to the robber, be he drunken or sober,
That murdered Nell Flaherty’s beautiful drake.
His neck it was green, and rare to be seen,
He was fit for a queen of the highest degree.
His body so white, it would you delight,
He was fat, plump, and heavy, and brisk as a bee.
This dear little fellow, his legs they were yellow,
He could fly like a swallow, or swim like a hake,
But some wicked habbage, to grease his white cabbage,
Has murdered Nell Flaherty’s beautiful drake!
May his pig never grunt, may his cat never hunt,
That a ghost may him haunt in the dark of the night.
May his hens never lay, may his horse never neigh,
May his goat fly away like an old paper kite;
May his duck never quack, may his goose be turned black
And pull down his stack with her long yellow beak.
May the scurvy and itch never part from the britch
Of the wretch that murdered Nell Flaherty’s drake!
May his rooster ne’er crow, may his bellows not blow,
Nor potatoes to grow—may he never have none—
May his cradle not rock, may his chest have no lock,
May his wife have no frock for to shade her backbone.
That the bugs and the fleas may this wicked wretch tease,
And a piercing north breeze make him tremble and shake.
May a four-years’-old bug build a nest in the lug
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty’s drake.
May his pipe never smoke, may his tea-pot be broke,
And to add to the joke may his kettle not boil;
May he be poorly fed till the hour he is dead.
May he always be fed on lobscouse and fish oil.
May he swell with the gout till his grinders fall out,
May he roar, howl, and shout with a horrid toothache,
May his temple wear horns and his toes carry corns,
The wretch that murdered Nell Flaherty’s drake.
May his dog yelp and howl with both hunger and cold,
May his wife always scold till his brains go astray.
May the curse of each hag, that ever carried a bag,
Light down on the wag till his head it turns gray.
May monkeys still bite him, and mad dogs affright him,
And every one slight him, asleep or awake.
May wasps ever gnaw him, and jackdaws ever claw him,
The monster that murdered Nell Flaherty’s drake.
But the only good news I have to diffuse,
Is of Peter Hughes and Paddy McCade,
And crooked Ned Manson, and big-nosed Bob Hanson,
Each one had a grandson of my beautiful drake.
Oh! my bird he has dozens of nephews and cousins,
And one I must have, or my heart it will break.
To keep my mind easy, or else I’ll run crazy,
And so ends the song of my beautiful drake.
poem by Anonymous English
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Urry
Now, Ma-til-der! Ain't cher dressed yet? I declare, the girl ain't up!
Last as ushul. Move yerself, you sleepy'-ead!
Are you goin' to lie there lazin',
W'ile I -- Nell, put down that basin;
Go an' see if Bill has got the poddies fed;
Tell 'im not to move that clucky -- ho, yer up, me lady, eh?
That's wot comes from gallivantin' lat ut night.
Why, the sun is nearly -- see now,
Don't chu dare talk back at me now!
Set the table, Nell! Where's Nell? Put out that light!
Now then, 'urry, goodness, 'urry! Mary, tell the men to come.
Oh there, drat the girl! MA-TIL-DER! where's the jam?
You fergot it? Well, uv all ther ...
Mary! 'Ear me tell you call ther ...
Lord! there's Baldy TANGLED IN THE BARB'-WIRE -- SAM!
Now, then, take 'er steady, clumsy, or she'll cut herself -- LEAVE OFF!
Do you want the cow to -- There! I never did!
Well, you mighter took 'er steady.
Sit up, Dad, yer late already.
Did ju put the tea in, Mary? Where's the lid?
Oh, do 'urry! Where's them buckets? Nell, 'as Bill brought in the cows?
Where's that boy? Ain't finished eatin' yet, uv course;
Eat all day if 'e wus let to.
Mary, where'd yer father get to?
Gone! Wot! Call 'im back! DAD! Wot about that 'orse?
No, indeed, it ain't my business; you kin see the man yerself.
No, I won't! I'm sure I've quite enough to do.
If 'e calls ter-day about it,
'E kin either go without it,
Or lest walk acrost the paddick out to you.
Are the cows in, B-i-ll? Oh, there they are. Well, nearly time they -- Nell,
Feed the calves, an' pack the -- Yes, indeed ju will!
Get the sepy-rater ready.
Woa, there, Baldy -- steady, steady.
Bail up. Stop-er! Hi, Matilder! MARY! BILL!
Well, uv all th' . . . Now you've done it.
Wait till Dad comes 'ome to-night;
When 'e sees the mess you've -- Don't stand starin' there!
Go an' get the cart an' neddy;
An' the cream cans - are they ready?
Where's the ... There! Fergot the fowls, I do declare!
Chuck! -- Chook! -- CHOOK! Why, there's that white un lost another chick to-day!
Nell, 'ow many did I count? -- Oh, stop that row!
Wot's 'e doin'? Oh, you daisy!
Do you mean to tell me, lazy,
Thet you 'aven't fed the pigs until jus' now?
Oh, do 'urry! There's the men ull soon be knockin' off fer lunch.
An' we 'aven't got the ... Reach that bacon down.
Get the billies, Nell, an' - Mary,
Go an' fetch the ... Wot? 'Ow dare 'e!
Bill, yer NOT to wear yer best 'at inter town!
'Ave you washed the things, Matilder? Oh, do 'urry, girl, yer late!
Seems to me you trouble more -- TAKE CARE! -- You dunce!
Now you've broke it! Well I never!
Ain't chu mighty smart an' clever;
Try'n to carry arf a dozen things at once.
No back answers now! You hussy! Don't chu dare talk back at me
Or I'll ... Nelly, did ju give them eggs to Bill?
Wot? CHU NEVER? Well I ... Mary,
Bring them dishes frum the dairy;
No, not them, the ... Lord, the sun's be'ind the hill!
'Ave you cleaned the sepy-rater, Nell? Well, get along to bed.
No; you can't go 'crost to Thompson's place to-night;
You wus there las' Chusday - See, miss,
Don't chu toss your head at me, miss!
I won't 'ave it. Mary, 'urry with that light!
Now then, get yer Dad the paper. Set down, Dad -- ju must be tired.
'Ere, Matilder, put that almanick away!
Where's them stockin's I wus darnin'?
Bill an' Mary, stop yer yarnin'!
Now then, Dad. Heigh-ho! Me fust sit down ter-day
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Bliss Of Ignorance
When Jack took Nell into his arms
He knew he acted ill,
And thought as he enjoyed her charms
Of his fiancée Jill.
"Poor dear," he sighed, "she dreams of me,
I shouldn't act like this;
But after all, she cannot see,
And ignorance is bliss."
Yet Jill at that same moment was
In Fred's embrace close caught,
And just a little sad because
Of sweetheart Jack she thought.
"Poor dear," she sighed, "he loves me so,
And what's a little kiss?
Or two or three - he'll never know,
And ignorance is bliss."
Now in fond wedlock all is well,
Though in their nuptial bed,
Jack's thought will sometimes stray to Nell,
And Jill's to handsome Fred.
Yet though in fancy they may flirt,
There's nothing much amiss:
What they don't know will never hurt -
Aye, Ignorance Is Bliss.
poem by Robert William Service
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Rich is not better.
quote by Nell Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You have to put on more faces to pretend who you are.
quote by Nell Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Centrifuga
Lo sai che lei immobile
tutto ci che so di lei
e in fine senti che c'
ed ora scegli chi c' in te
lei che non mai la verit
tutto ci che ho di lei
mi arrendo e sento che c'
in fondo certo per me
e comunque sia tu nei sensi e nell'immagine
puoi convincermi tutto in fondo cos semplice ed inutile
ora resterai immobile
ed io sar infallibile
tutto scelto per me
in tutto quello che c' in me
e comunque sia tu nei sensi e nell'immagine
puoi convincermi tutto in fondo cos semplice ed inutile.
song performed by by Verdena
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flames
It's human nature for a bashful bloke
To bottle up, an' hesitate, an' doubt
Till grinnin' Fate plays him some low-down joke;
Then, in excitement, he goes blurtin' out
The tale his sane mind never would impart,
So all the near-by world knows it by heart.
Good luck for me, the near-by world that day,
When I ran sobbin' thro' the scorchin' fern,
Held few to hear the foolish things I say;
No one was there my secret thought to learn,
As I went shoutin' down the mountain spur,
Only the scared birds, an' the trees, an' Her.
In fancy, many men have been thro' Hell,
Tortured by fear, when hope has amost died;
But few have gone thro' that, an' fire as well
To come on Heaven on the other side
With just one angel in it, safe an' well -
A cool, calm angel by the name of Nell.
The day the fire came sweepin' down the hill,
Lickin' the forest up like some mad beast,
We had our work cut out to save the mill;
An', when the wind swung round into the East,
An' blew the roarin' flames along the spur,
Straight for 'The Height,' I gets quick fear for Her.
Flat out I was fightin' all day long
(We saved the mill-shed, but the huts were done)
When some bloke, weak with sprintin' comes along
Comic, it seemed, to me the way he run)
Shoutin' that someone's missin' from 'The Height,'
An' all the forest at the back's alight.
I don't what he thought, an' never cared,
When I grabs at his coat an' starts to yell.
I only know that I was dreadful scared. . . .
In half a minute more, I guessed 'twas Nell.
He tell me when an' where they thought she went,
An' of the useless searchers they had sent.
I never waits for more; but turned an' ran
Straight for the spur, along the scorchin' track.
Behind me, as I went, I hear some man
I think it's Pike - bawlin', 'You fool! Come back!'
What plan was in my mind I cannot tell;
I only know I want to find my Nell.
Next thing I mind, I've left the track, an' turned
Into the blackened scrub - my eyes feel bad -
Above my head the messmate trees still burned.
An' Lord, them awful fancies that I had!
I seen her lyin' there - her face - her hair. . . .
Why, even now, them thoughts give me a scare.
I stumble on. Against a red-hot butt
I burn my hand, but never even swear;
But keep on sayin', 'Make the splitter's hut,
The splitter's hut! Get to the clearin' there.
She's at the splitter's hut; an' if she ain't . . .'
My heart turns over, an' I feel dead faint.
An' as I plug along, I hear some fool
Repeatin' words till they sound like a spell.
'I'm goin' mad,' I thinks. 'Keep cool! Keep cool!'
But still the voice goes on' 'My Nell! My Nell!'
I whips round quick to see who he can be,
This yappin' fool - then realize it's me.
They say I must have gone thro' blazin' ferns.
Perhaps I did; but I don't recollect.
My mind was blank, but, judgin' by my burns,
There's something got to me that took effect.
But once, I know, I saw a flamin' tree
Fall just behind me; but that don't trouble me.
I don't know how the reached the splitter's hut,
I only saw the ragin' fire - an' Nell.
My clothes were torn, my face an' hands were cut,
An' half a dozen times, at least, I fell.
I burst into the clearin' . . . an' I look. . . .
She's sittin' on a log there - with a book!
I seem to cross that clearin' in a stride,
Still sobbin' like a kid: 'My Nell! My nell!'
I was clean mad. But, as I reach her side,
I sort of wake, an' give that song a spell.
But, by her eyes, for all she seemed so cool,
I know she must have heard, an' feel a fool.
'Why, Mister Jim? You do look hot,' says she.
(But still her eyes says oceans more than that).
'Did you come all the way up here for me?'
Coolness? I tell you straight, it knocked me flat.
By rights, she should fall sobbin' in my arms;
But no; there weren't no shrieks an' no alarms.
I pulls myself together with a jerk.
'Oh, just a stroll,' I says. 'Don't mention it.
The mill's half burnt, an' I am out of work;
They missed you so I looked around a bit.'
'Now, that was good of you,' says she, reel bright.
'Wasn't the bush-fire such a splendid sight?'
She looks me up and down. 'Why, Mister Jim,'
She says to me, 'you do look hot, indeed.
If you go strollin' that way for a whim
Whatever would you do in case of need?'
That's what she said. But with her eyes she sent
More than her thanks; an' I was quite content.
I seen her home; or, rather, she seen me,
For I was weak, an' fumbled in my stride.
But, when we reached 'The Height,' I seen that she
Was just in breakin'; an' she went inside. . . .
I stumbles home. 'Well, Jim, lad, anyway,'
I tells myself, 'you've had a fine, full day.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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When I first found out I had diabetes I denied it.
quote by Nell Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Nell
GLEAMING through the silent church-yard,
Winter sunlight seemed to shed
Golden shadows like soft blessings
O'er a quiet little bed,
Where a pale face lay unheeding
Tender tears that o'er it fell;
No sorrow now could touch the heart
Of gentle little Nell.
Ah, with what silent patient strength
The frail form lying there
Had borne its heavy load of grief,
Of loneliness and care.
Now, earthly burdens were laid down,
And on the meek young face
There shone a holier loveliness
Than childhood's simple grace.
Beset with sorrow, pain and fear,
Tempted by want and sin,
With none to guide or counsel her
But the brave child-heart within.
Strong in her fearless, faithful love,
Devoted to the last,
Unfaltering through gloom and gleam
The little wanderer passed.
Hand in hand they journeyed on
Through pathways strange and wild,
The gray-haired, feeble, sin-bowed man
Led by the noble child.
So through the world's dark ways she passed,
Till o'er the church-yard sod,
To the quiet spot where they found rest,
Those little feet had trod.
To that last resting-place on earth
Kind voices bid her come,
There her long wanderings found an end,
And weary Nell a home.
A home whose light and joy she was,
Though on her spirit lay
A solemn sense of coming change,
That deepened day by day.
There in the church-yard, tenderly,
Through quiet summer hours,
Above the poor neglected graves
She planted fragrant flowers.
The dim aisles of the ruined church
Echoed the child's light tread,
And flickering sunbeams thro' the leaves
Shone on her as she read.
And here where a holy silence dwelt,
And golden shadows fell,
When Death's mild face had looked on her,
They laid dear happy Nell.
Long had she wandered o'er the earth,
One hand to the old man given,
By the other angels led her on
Up a sunlit path to Heaven.
Oh! 'patient, loving, noble Nell,'
Like light from sunset skies,
The beauty of thy sinless life
Upon the dark world lies.
On thy sad story, gentle child,
Dim eyes will often dwell,
And loving hearts will cherish long
The memory of Nell.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
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The CD is dedicated to our dog Nell, who passed away last year.
quote by Julia Barr
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rich means you have to stay there to maintain it.
quote by Nell Carter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jennie
Some men affect a liking
For the prim in face and mind,
And some prefer the striking
And the loud in womankind;
Wee Madge is wooed of many,
And buxom Kate, as well,
And Jennie--charming Jennie--
Ah, Jennie doesn't tell!
What eyes so bright as Daisy's,
And who as Maud so fair?
Who does not sing the praises
Of Lucy's golden hair?
There's Sophie--she is witty,
A very sprite is Nell,
And Susie's, oh, so pretty--
But Jennie doesn't tell!
And now for my confession:
Of all the virtues rare,
I argue that discretion
Doth most beseem the fair.
And though I hear the many
Extol each other belle,
I--I pronounce for Jennie,
For Jennie doesn't tell!
poem by Eugene Field
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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One must have a heart of stone to read the death of Little Nell without laughing.
quote by Oscar Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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