En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Canadian Rivers and Lake

We have here a sight as fair
As bonnie Doon or banks of Ayr.
Like modest worth, meandering slow,
The quiet waters gently flow.
Rose, Thistle, Shamrock, all combine
Around the Maple Leaf to twine-
Whose outstretched arms, so gigantic,
Clasps Pacific and Atlantic.
Embracing lakes like burnished gold,
With joy a Shakespeare might behold,
For either poet Barns or Moore *
Such scenery they would adore.

poem by James McIntyre
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Ye Banks And Braes O'Bonnie Doon

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care!

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird
That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days
When my fause Luve was true.

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird
That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
And wist na o' my fate.

Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon
To see the woodbine twine,
And ilka bird sang o' its love;
And sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
Frae aff its thorny tree;
And my fause luver staw the rose,
But left the thorn wi' me.

poem by Robert Burns
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Ye Flowery Banks

Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care?

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days,
When my false love was true.

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird,
That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
And wist na o' my fate.

Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon
To see the wood-bine twine,
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pulled a rose
Frae aff its thorny tree;
And my false luver stole my rose
But left the thorn wi' me.

poem by Robert Burns
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Ye Flowery Banks (Bonie Doon)

Ye flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care?

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days,
When my false love was true.

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird,
That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
And wist na o' my fate.

Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon
To see the wood-bine twine,
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pulled a rose
Frae aff its thorny tree;
And my false luver stole my rose
But left the thorn wi' me.

poem by Robert Burns
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The Banks o' Doon

YE flowery banks o' bonnie Doon,
   How can ye blume sae fair!
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
   And I sae fu' o' care!

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird,
   That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days
   When my fause luve was true.

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonnie bird,
   That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
   And wistna o' my fate.

Aft hae I roved by bonnie Doon,
   To see the woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
   And sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
   Upon a morn in June;
And sae I flourish'd on the morn,
   And sae was pu'd or' noon.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
   Upon its thorny tree;
But my fause luver staw my rose,
   And left the thorn wi' me.

poem by Robert Burns
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The Banner of Union

Bring the Harp of the West, and the Pipes of the North,
When our Trumpet note calls to the field;
Let the men of old Scotia and Erin come forth,
And our foemen shall see who must yield.

Side by side in the battle, like granite we'll stand,
With a will and a might none shall sever;
For Glory or Death, we will twine in one wreath
Rose, Shamrock, and Thistle for ever.

Our Banner of Union shall float in the wind
Over hearts that have never yet quailed;
The sword shall be drawn and the banner be borne,
By hands that have never yet failed.
Sons of heather! your fame in the fight
Is as old as your glens and your valleys,
Men of Hibernia! let Right ask for Might;
And where is the spirit but rallies.

Side by side in the battle, like granite we'll stand,
With a will and a might none shall sever;
For Glory or Death, we will twine in one wreath
Rose, Shamrock, and Thistle for ever.

poem by Eliza Cook
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Musings on the North West

Domestic cattle quiet will graze where now the Buffalos roam,
and in spots now covered o'er with Indian Wigwams,
where white men never trod, cities will occupy their
sites with busy trade, and millions throng from Eastern
lands to take possession of the great North-West; then
Winnipeg, perchance, may be the capital of the Domin-
ion. In the days fortold, when this indeed shall be the
'Greater Britain,' with Ontario's towns for work shops
for this vast Prairie land.

' And poets will arise and high their lays will soar,
Worthy of the muse of a Burns or a Moore,'
A Shakespeare and a Milton, the great and the wise
Will sing of the glories of our Northern skies ;
Of its lakes and rivers, and its mountains grand,
Of its fertile plains and great prairie land.
A fit theme for song this empire gigantic
Whose arms stretch from Pacific to Atlantic.

poem by James McIntyre
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Oh, the Shamrock

Through Erin's Isle
To sport awhile
As Love and Valour wander'd,
With Wit, the sprite,
Whose quiver bright
A thousand arrows squander'd;
Where'er they pass,
A triple grass
Shoots up, with dew-drops streaming,
As softly green
As emeralds seen
Through purest crystal gleaming.
Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!
Chosen leaf
Of Bard and Chief,
Old Erin's native Shamrock!

Says Valour, "See,
They spring for me,
Those leafy gems of morning!" --
Says Love, "No, no,
For me they grow,
My fragrant path adorning."
But Wit perceives
The triple leaves,
And cries, "Oh! do not sever
A type that blends
Three godlike friends,
Love, Valour, Wit, for ever!"
Oh, the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!
Chosen leaf, etc.

So firmly fond
May last the bond
They wove that morn together,
And ne'er may fall
One drop of gall
On Wit's celestial feather.
May Love, as twine
His flowers divine,
Of thorny falsehood weed 'em:
May Valour ne'er
His standard rear
Against the cause of Freedom!
Oh the Shamrock, the green, immortal Shamrock!
Chosen leaf, etc.

poem by Thomas Moore
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The Banks O' Doon (3rd version)

Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o' departed joys,
Departed never to return.

Aft hae I rov'd by Bonie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine:
And ilka bird sang o' its Luve,
And fondly sae did I o' mine;
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree!
And may fause Luver staw my rose,
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

poem by Robert Burns (1791)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Banks O' Doon, The

Ye banks and braes o' bonie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu' o' care!
Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird,
That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o' departed joys,
Departed never to return.

Aft I rov'd by Bonie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine:
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And fondly sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree!
Any my fause luver staw my rose,
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

poem by Robert Burns
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The Banks O' Doon (1st version)

Sweet are the banks-the banks o' Doon,
The spreading flowers are fair,
And everything is blythe and glad,
But I am fu' o' care.
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days
When my fause Luve was true:
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
And wist na o' my fate.

Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon,
To see the woodbine twine;
And ilka birds sang o' its Luve,
And sae did I o' mine:
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Upon its thorny tree;
But my fause Luver staw my rose
And left the thorn wi' me:
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Upon a morn in June;
And sae I flourished on the morn,
And sae was pu'd or noon!

poem by Robert Burns (1791)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Descriptive Poem on the Silvery Tay

Beautiful silvery Tay,
With your landscapes, so lovely and gay,
Along each side of your waters, to Perth all the way;
No other river in the world has got scenery more fine,
Only I am told the beautiful Rhine,
Near to Wormit Bay, it seems very fine,
Where the Railway Bridge is towering above its waters sublime,
And the beautiful ship Mars,
With her Juvenile Tare,
Both lively and gay,
Does carelessly lie By night and by day,
In the beautiful Bay
Of the silvery Tay.
Beautiful, beautiful silvery Tay,
Thy scenery is enchanting on a fine summer day,
Near by Balnerino it is beautiful to behold,
When the trees are in full bloom and the cornfields seems like gold -
And nature's face seems gay,
And the lambkins they do play,
And the humming bee is on the wing,
It is enough to make one sing,
While they carelessly do stray,
Along the beautiful banks of the silvery Tay,
Beautiful silvery Tay,
Rolling smoothly on your way,
Near by Newport, as clear as the day,
Thy scenery around is charming I'll be bound...
And would make the heart of any one feel light and gay on a fine summer day,
To view the beautiful scenery along the banks of the silvery Tay.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Banks Of The Ohio

(traditional)
I asked my love to take a walk
To take a walk, just a little walk
Down beside where the waters flow
Down by the banks of the ohio
And only say that youll be mine
In no others arms entwine
Down beside where the waters flow
Down by the banks of the ohio
I held a knife against his breast
As into my arms he pressed
He cried my love, dont you murder me
Im not prepared for eternity
I wandered home tween twelve and one
I cried, my god, what have I done?
Ive killed the only man I love
He would not take me for his bride
And only say that youll be mine
In no others arms entwine
Down beside where the waters flow
Down by the banks of the ohio

song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remembrance of Collins

Composed upon the Thames near Richmond

Glide gently, thus for ever glide,
O Thames! that other bards may see
As lovely visions by thy side
As now, fair river! come to me.
O glide, fair stream! for ever so,
Thy quiet soul on all bestowing,
Till all our minds for ever flow
As thy deep waters now are flowing.

Vain thought!--Yet be as now thou art,
That in thy waters may be seen
The image of a poet's heart,
How bright, how solemn, how serene!
Such as did once the Poet bless,
Who murmuring here a later ditty,
Could find no refuge from distress
But in the milder grief of pity.

Now let us, as we float along,
For 'him' suspend the dashing oar;
And pray that never child of song
May know that Poet's sorrows more.
How calm! how still! the only sound,
The dripping of the oar suspended!
--The evening darkness gathers round
By virtue's holiest Powers attended.

poem by William Wordsworth
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The Banks O'Doon

Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care!

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird
That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days
When my fause luve was true.

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird
That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
And wist na o' my fate.

Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon,
To see the wood-bine twine,
And ilka bird sang o' its love,
And sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
Frae aff its thorny tree,
And my fause luver staw the rose,
But left the thorn wi' me.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Upon a morn in June:
And sae I flourish'd on the morn,
And sae was pu'd or noon!

poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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bonie Doon

Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o' care?

Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings upon the bough;
Thou minds me o' the happy days,
When my fause luve was true.
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
And wist na o' my fate.

Aft hae I roved by bonie Doon
To see the woodbine twine,
And ilka bird sang o' its luve,
And sae did I o' mine.

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose
Frae aff its thorny tree;
And my fause luver staw my rose
But left the thorn wi' me.

poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Banks O' Doon (2nd version)

Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair?
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
And I sae fu' o care!
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings upon the bough!
Thou minds me o' the happy days
When my fause Luve was true.
Thou'll break my heart, thou bonie bird,
That sings beside thy mate;
For sae I sat, and sae I sang,
And wist na o' my fate.

Aft hae I rov'd by bonie Doon,
To see the woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its Luve,
And sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Upon its thorny tree;
But my fause Luver staw my rose,
And left the thorn wi' me.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Upon a morn in June;
And sae I flourished on the morn,
And sae was pu'd or noon.

poem by Robert Burns (1791)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Nuptial Ode on Canada

Written during the visit of delegates from the Lower Provinces
to negotiate for confederation.

Hail Britannia's noblest daughter,
Who is surrounded by the water
Of many a lake and broad sea,
Land of Beaver and Maple Tree.

Her lofty brow is wreathed with smiles,
For, from the far Atlantic isles
In pomp, have come their delegates,
All seeking to unite their fates

With Canada, great Northern Queen.
And now, throughout the land, is seen
High festival and stately dance,
Triumphant nuptials to advance.

And soon shall Red River valley
And distant Vancouver, rally
To form this empire gigantic,
From Pacific to Atlantic.

poem by James McIntyre
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If the graves of the thousands of victims who have fallen in the terrible wars of the two races had been placed in line the philanthropist might travel from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the Lakes to the Gulf, and be constantly in sight of green mounds.

quote by Nelson A. Miles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Merri In Flood

The old Merri River in flood waters of brown
Is flowing on bank high on by Warrnambool Town
In and out of Lake Pertobe on it's sea going way
To join the Pacific at famed Lady Bay
The old river that is old even in time
That has inspired the poets and songwriters to rhyme
In the age of the dinosaurs the Merri was old
In full flood the river a sight to behold
In Summer by the banks of the river in the shade of the trees
The Indigenous tribes had their corroborees
Like the Seasons of Nature the people come and go
But the river on down through the flat country flow
In and out of Lake Pertobe and on to the sea
The Merri in flood is a great sight to see.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Banks Of Ohio

I asked my love to take a walk, to take a walk, just a little walk
Down the side where the waters flow, down by the banks of the Ohio
Chorus:
And only say that you'll be mine, in no other's arms entwined
Down the side where the waters flow, down by the banks of the Ohio
I held a knife against his breast, as into my arms he pressed
He cried, "My love, don't you murder me, I'm not prepared for eternity"
(chorus)
I wandered home 'tween twelve and one, I cried, "My God, what have I done?
I've killed the only man I love, he would not take me for his bride"
(chorus)
Down by the banks of the Ohio
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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