Table Song
O'ER me--how I cannot say,--
Heav'nly rapture's growing.
Will it help to guide my way
To yon stars all-glowing?
Yet that here I'd sooner be,
To assert I'm able,
Where, with wine and harmony,
I may thump the table.
Wonder not, my dearest friends,
What 'tis gives me pleasure;
For of all that earth e'er lends,
'Tis the sweetest treasure.
Therefore solemnly I swear,
With no reservation,
That maliciously I'll ne'er
Leave my present station.
Now that here we're gather'd round,
Chasing cares and slumbers,
Let, methought, the goblet sound
To the bard's glad numbers!
Many a hundred mile away,
Go those we love dearly;
Therefore let us here to-day
Make the glass ring clearly!
Here's His health, through Whom we live!
I that faith inherit.
To our king the next toast give,
Honour is his merit,
'Gainst each in-- and outward foe
He's our rock and tower.
Of his maintenance thinks he though,
More that grows his power.
Next to her good health I drink,
Who has stirr'd my passion;
Of his mistress let each think,
Think in knightly fashion.
If the beauteous maid but see
Whom 'tis I now call so,
Let her smiling nod to me:
"Here's my love's health also!"
To those friends,--the two or three,--
Be our next toast given,
In whose presence revel we,
In the silent even,--
Who the gloomy mist so cold
Scatter gently, lightly;
To those friends, then, new or old,
Let the toast ring brightly.
Broader now the stream rolls on,
With its waves more swelling,
While in higher, nobler tone,
Comrades, we are dwelling,--
We who with collected might,
Bravely cling together,
Both in fortune's sunshine bright,
And in stormy weather.
Just as we are gather'd thus,
Others are collected;
On them, therefore, as on us,
Be Fate's smile directed!
From the springhead to the sea,
Many a mill's revolving,
And the world's prosperity
Is the task I'm solving.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Related quotes
A toast
There's wine in the cup, Vancouver,
And there's warmth in my heart for you,
While I drink to your health, your youth, and your wealth,
And the things that you yet will do.
In a vintage rare and olden,
With a flavour fine and keen,
Fill the glass to the edge, while I stand up to pledge
My faith to my western queen.
Then here's a Ho! Vancouver, in wine of the bonniest hue,
With a hand on my hip and the cup at my lip,
And a love in my life for you.
For you are a jolly good fellow, with a great, big heart, I know;
So I drink this toast
To the "Queen of the Coast."
Vancouver, here's a Ho!
And here's to the days that are coming,
And here's to the days that are gone,
And here's to your gold and your spirit bold,
And your luck that has held its own;
And here's to your hands so sturdy,
And here's to your hearts so true,
And here's to the speed of the day decreed
That brings me again to you.
Then here's a Ho! Vancouver, in wine of the bonniest hue,
With a hand on my hip and the cup at my lip,
And a love in my life for you.
For you are a jolly good fellow, with a great, big heart, I know;
So I drink this toast
To the "Queen of the Coast."
Vancouver, here's a Ho!
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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A change is called for.
A change is called for.
We always tend to over cater
And eat the leftovers later
Until we’re sick to death of them
This year a different stratagem
We shall dine out on Christmas day
It will be worth the price we pay
No washing up which must be done.
We can relax and just have fun
Probably drink a glass or two
Of our very favourite brew
My lady likes bubbles in her wine
But I prefer the taste of mine
Good old fashioned bitter beer.
In this we differ always I fear
It matters not for we have got.
A sufficient supply of both
To meet our needs and nothing loathe.
We’ll drink a toast to absent friends
To friendships which will never end
To friends who we may never meet
We could walk past them on the street
We will still drink to their good health
and wish them health and happiness
We will succumb eventually
And fall asleep on the settee.
Tuesday,13 December 2011
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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My Friends, Thank You Very Much
my friends, at the end of the year
let me thank you
from the bottom of my heart
despite the tragedies and
difficulties, you have been with me
in the highs and lows of my life,
let me thank you then
for the kind support
for the advices
for the hugs and pats on my shoulder
without you i would have not been here
in this place where the beams are stronger
where the walls have been taken away
where our roofs look directly into the skies
to see the myriad stars
without you i am nothing
let me thank you then
everything in me shall be changed for the better
except you my friends
you will all be the same friends of mine
older, bolder and happier.
happy new year, a toast for good health, happiness,
for prosperity, for more blessings from God.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Psalm 30 part 2
v.6
L. M.
Health, sickness, and recovery.
Firm was my health, my day was bright,
And I presumed 'twould ne'er be night;
Fondly I said within my heart,
"Pleasure and peace shall ne'er depart."
But I forgot thine arm was strong
Which made my mountain stand so long:
Soon as thy face began to hide,
My health was gone, my comforts died.
I cried aloud to thee, my God,
"What canst thou profit by my blood?
Deep in the dust can I declare
Thy truth, or sing thy goodness there?
"Hear me, O God of grace," I said,
"And bring me from among the dead:"
Thy word rebuked the pains I felt,
Thy pard'ning love removed my guilt.
My groans, and tears, and forms of woe
Are turned to joy and praises now;
I throw my sackcloth on the ground,
And ease and gladness gird me round
My tongue, the glory of my frame,
Shall ne'er be silent of thy name;
Thy praise shall sound through earth and heav'n
For sickness healed and sins forgiv'n.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The Treasure Digger
ALL my weary days I pass'd
Sick at heart and poor in purse.
Poverty's the greatest curse,
Riches are the highest good!
And to end my woes at last,
Treasure-seeking forth I sped.
"Thou shalt have my soul instead!"
Thus I wrote, and with my blood.
Ring round ring I forthwith drew,
Wondrous flames collected there,
Herbs and bones in order fair,
Till the charm had work'd aright.
Then, to learned precepts true,
Dug to find some treasure old,
In the place my art foretold
Black and stormy was the night.
Coming o'er the distant plain,
With the glimmer of a star,
Soon I saw a light afar,
As the hour of midnight knell'd.
Preparation was in vain.
Sudden all was lighted up
With the lustre of a cup
That a beauteous boy upheld.
Sweetly seem'd his eves to laugh
Neath his flow'ry chaplet's load;
With the drink that brightly glow'd,
He the circle enter'd in.
And he kindly bade me quaff:
Then methought "This child can ne'er,
With his gift so bright and fair,
To the arch-fiend be akin."
"Pure life's courage drink!" cried he:
"This advice to prize then learn,--
Never to this place return
Trusting in thy spells absurd;
Dig no longer fruitlessly.
Guests by night, and toil by day!
Weeks laborious, feast-days gay!
Be thy future magic-word!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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The Last Assembly
As I walked to the last assembly,
There were tears in the back of my eyes,
And I saw all my friends all around me,
They were there to wish me goodbye.
As I stood in a line with my comrades,
I felt such a feeling of pride,
And I forgot all the grief and the hatred inside,
As we sang for the very last time.
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
Come and join our last assembly,
Let us smile, wipe away all the frowns.
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
As we stood at the last assembly,
All my friends came to wish me goodbye.
Gather round, gather round,
Gather round, gather round,
Everybody gather round.
As I stand at the last assembly,
I just cant keep the tears from my eyes.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Contented Man
"How good God is to me," he said;
"For have I not a mansion tall,
With trees and lawns of velvet tread,
And happy helpers at my call?
With beauty is my life abrim,
With tranquil hours and dreams apart;
You wonder that I yield to Him
That best of prayers, a grateful heart?"
"How good God is to me," he said;
"For look! though gone is all my wealth,
How sweet it is to earn one's bread
With brawny arms and brimming health.
Oh, now I know the joy of strife!
To sleep so sound, to wake so fit.
Ah yes, how glorious is life!
I thank Him for each day of it."
"How good God is to me," he said;
"Though health and wealth are gone, it's true;
Things might be worse, I might be dead,
And here I'm living, laughing too.
Serene beneath the evening sky
I wait, and every man's my friend;
God's most contented man am I . . .
He keeps me smiling to the End."
poem by Robert William Service
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A drinking song
Come, brothers, share the fellowship
We celebrate to-night;
There's grace of song on every lip
And every heart is light!
But first, before our mentor chimes
The hour of jubilee,
Let's drink a health to good old times,
And good times yet to be!
Clink, clink, clink!
Merrily let us drink!
There's store of wealth
And more of health
In every glass, we think.
Clink, clink, clink!
To fellowship we drink!
And from the bowl
No genial soul
In such an hour can shrink.
And you, oh, friends from west and east
And other foreign parts,
Come share the rapture of our feast,
The love of loyal hearts;
And in the wassail that suspends
All matters burthensome,
We 'll drink a health to good old friends
And good friends yet to come.
Clink, clink, clink!
To fellowship we drink!
And from the bowl
No genial soul
In such an hour will shrink.
Clink, clink, clink!
Merrily let us drink!
There's fellowship
In every sip
Of friendship's brew, we think.
poem by Eugene Field
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Memories Of The Roeside
Scenes of a childhood,
Long years ago,
Surface in memory as vivid as snow:
The Mullagh, the Dogleap,
The Wet Wood and the Dry…
Memories of the Roeside
Bringing tears to each eye.
And where are the friends
Of those days before?
Do they share the fond memories
Which I have in store?
Do they think of the Marshfield,
The old Wireless Lane,
Nicholl’s Brae, The Flat,
And the high Rock of Kane?
Do they recall the summers
By the Wee Rock at the Mill,
Or the sports in the Avenue
With many a thrill?
And what of the ‘characters’-
Ah, too many to relate;
It being good fortune
To share partly their fate…
Oh these memories of childhood,
Of school- days, of youth,
I cling to like life, as precious as truth.
And to those still living, my friends of the Roe
I drink you a toast to times long ago.
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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Here's to the Maiden of Bashful Fifteen
Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen;
Here's to the widow of fifty;
Here's to the flaunting extravagant quean,
And here's to the housewife that's thrifty.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,--
Drink to the lass,
I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize;
Now to the maid who has none, sir:
Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes,
And here's to the nymph with but one, sir.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,--
Drink to the lass,
I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow;
Now to her that's as brown as a berry:
Here's to the wife with her face full of woe,
And now to the damsel that's merry.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,--
Drink to the lass,
I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
For let 'em be clumsy, or let 'em be slim,
Young or ancient, I care not a feather;
So fill a pint bumper quite up to the brim,
And let us e'en toast them together.
Chorus
Let the toast pass,--
Drink to the lass,
I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass.
poem by Richard Brinsley Sheridan
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Hind Horn
In Scotland there was a babie born,
Lill lal, etc.
And his name it was called young Hind Horn.
With a fal lal, etc.
He sent a letter to our king
That he was in love with his daughter Jean.
He's gien to her a silver wand,
With seven living lavrocks sitting thereon.
She's gien to him a diamond ring,
With seven bright diamonds set therein.
"When this ring grows pale and wan,
You may know by it my love is gane."
One day as he looked his ring upon,
He saw the diamonds pale and wan.
He left the sea and came to land,
And the first that he met was an old beggar man.
"What news, what news?" said young Hind Horn;
"No news, no news," said the old beggar man.
"No news," said the beggar, "no news at a',
But there is a wedding in the king's ha.
"But there is a wedding in the king's ha,
That has halden these forty days and twa."
"Will ye lend me your begging coat?
And I'll lend you my scarlet cloak.
"Will you lend me your beggar's rung?
And I'll gie you my steed to ride upon.
"Will you lend me your wig o hair,
To cover mine, because it is fair?"
The auld beggar man was bound for the mill,
But young Hind Horn for the king's hall.
The auld beggar man was bound for to ride,
But young Hind Horn was bound for the bride.
When he came to the king's gate,
He sought a drink for Hind Horn's sake.
The bride came down with a glass of wine,
When he drank out the glass, and dropt in the ring.
"O got ye this by sea or land?
Or got ye it off a dead man's hand?"
"I got not it by sea, I got it by land,
And I got it, madam, out of your own hand."
"O I'll cast off my gowns of brown,
And beg wi you frae town to town.
"O I'll cast off my gowns of red,
And I'll beg wi you to win my bread."
"Ye needna cast off your gowns of brown,
For I'll make you lady o many a town.
"Ye needna cast off your gowns of red,
It's only a sham, the begging o my bread."
The bridegroom he had wedded the bride,
But young Hind Horn he took her to bed.
poem by Anonymous Americas
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Drink Poetry, Oh Ye of Small Faith
Drink poetry, oh ye of small faith:
Drink poetry from a bottle
Drink poetry from a book
Drink poetry from a fountain
Take another look.
Drink for sanctuary
Drink for inspiration
Drink for endurance
But never hesitation.
A toast to poetry
And a toast to time
A toast to us:
Live forever in rhyme.
poem by Patti Masterman
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Loves Recovery
During the time of which I speak
It was hard to turn the other cheek
To the blows of insecurity
Feeding the cancer of my intellect
The blood of love soon neglected
Lay dying in the strength of its impurity
Meanwhile our friends we thought were so together
Theyve all gone and left each other
In search of fairer weather
And we sit here in our storm and drink a toast
To the slim chance of loves recovery
There I am in younger days, star gazing
Painting picture perfect maps
Of how my life and love would be
Not counting the unmarked paths of misdirection
My compass, faith in loves perfection
I missed ten million miles of road I should have seen
Meanwhile our friends we thought were so together
Left each other one by one on the road to fairer weather
And we sit here in our storm and drink a toast
To the slim chance of loves recovery
Rain soaked and voice choked
Like silent screaming in a dream
I search for our absolute distinction
Not content to bow and bend
To the whims of culture that swoop like vultures
Eating us away, eating us away
Eating us away to our extinction
Oh how I wish I were a trinity
So if I lost a part of me
Id still have two of the same to live
But nobody gets a lifetime rehearsal
As specks of dust were universal
To let this love survive
Would be the greatest gift that we could give
Tell all the friends who think theyre so together
That these are ghosts and mirages
All these thoughts of fairer weather
Though its storming out I feel safe within the arms
Of loves discovery
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Young Laird and Edinburgh Katy
1 Now wat ye wha I met yestreen
2 Coming down the street, my Jo,
3 My mistress in her tartan screen,
4 Fow bonny, braw and sweet, my Jo.
5 "My dear," quoth I, "thanks to the night,
6 That never wish'd a lover ill,
7 Since ye're out of your mither's sight,
8 Let's take a wauk up to the hill.
9 "O Katy wiltu gang wi' me,
10 And leave the dinsome town a while,
11 The blossom's sprouting frae the tree,
12 And a' the summer's gawn to smile;
13 The mavis, nightingale and lark,
14 The bleeting lambs and whistling hynd,
15 In ilka dale, green, shaw and park,
16 Will nourish health, and glad ye'r mind.
17 "Soon as the clear goodman of day
18 Bends his morning draught of dew,
19 We'll gae to some burnside and play,
20 And gather flowers to busk ye'r brow.
21 We'll pou the dazies on the green,
22 The lucken gowans frae the bog;
23 Between hands now and then we'll lean,
24 And sport upo' the velvet fog.
25 "There's up into a pleasant glen,
26 A wee piece frae my father's tower,
27 A canny, saft and flow'ry den,
28 Which circling birks has form'd a bower:
29 When e'er the sun grows high and warm,
30 We'll to the cauller shade remove,
31 There will I lock thee in mine arm,
32 And love and kiss, and kiss and love."
poem by Allan Ramsay
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Mischievous Joy
AS a butterfly renew'd,
When in life I breath'd my last,
To the spots my flight I wing,
Scenes of heav'nly rapture past,
Over meadows, to the spring,
Round the hill, and through the wood.
Soon a tender pair I spy,
And I look down from my seat
On the beauteous maiden's head--
When embodied there I meet
All I lost as soon as dead,
Happy as before am I.
Him she clasps with silent smile,
And his mouth the hour improves,
Sent by kindly Deities;
First from breast to mouth it roves,
Then from mouth to hands it flies,
And I round him sport the while.
And she sees me hov'ring near;
Trembling at her lovers rapture,
Up she springs--I fly away,
"Dearest! let's the insect capture
Come! I long to make my prey
Yonder pretty little dear!"
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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A Prayer For My Friends
I pray for all my friends,
I pray for the one who love defends.
I pray for those who warmed my heart,
I pray for that one who keeps apart.
I ask our Lord to send them all health,
I ask my God to bring them all wealth,
I ask my Angel to protect them from a fall,
To listen to: for whom the bells toll.
I would love your cup to be always full.
I would love your life to be always beautiful.
I would love you all dark clouds to avoid.
I would love you never to be annoyed.
Let friendship be the best treasure!
Let love to be the best measure!
Let your Motherland be always the dearest!
Let all my friends be the nearest!
My friends are all around the world.
I would love them all in waltz to whirl.
I am sure my prayer everyone will find.
We are all on this Earth are bind.
My blessings are for all my dear friends.
I am welcoming to my prayer the all the lands.
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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The Aged Aged Man
I'll tell thee everything I can;
There's little to relate.
I saw an aged aged man,
A-sitting on a gate.
"Who are you, aged man?" I said,
"And how is it you live?"
And his answer trickled through my head
Like water through a sieve.
He said, "I look for butterflies
That sleep among the wheat:
I make them into mutton-pies,
And sell them in the street.
I sell them unto men," he said,
"Who sail on stormy seas;
And that's the way I get my bread—
A trifle; if you please."
But I was thinking of a plan
To dye one's whiskers green,
And always use so large a fan
That they could not be seen.
So, having no reply to give
To what the old man said,
I cried, "Come, tell me how you live!"
And thumped him on the head.
His accents mild took up the tale:
He said, "I go my ways,
And when I find a mountain-rill,
I set it in a blaze;
And thence they make a stuff they call
Rowland's Macassar-Oil—
Yet twopence-halfpenny is all
They give me for my toil."
But I was thinking of a way
To feed oneself on batter,
And so go on from day to day
Getting a little fatter.
I shook him well from side to side,
Until his face was blue:
"Come, tell me how you live," I cried,
"And what it is you do!"
He said, "I hunt for haddocks' eyes
Among the heather bright,
And work them into waistcoat buttons
In the silent night.
And these I do not sell for gold
Or coin of silvery shine,
But for a copper halfpenny,
And that will purchase nine.
"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,
Or set limed twigs for crabs;
I sometimes search the grassy knolls
For wheels of hansom-cabs.
And that's the way" (he gave a wink)
"By which I get my wealth—
And very gladly will I drink
Your Honour's noble health."
I heard him then, for I had just
Completed my design
To keep the Menai bridge from rust
By boiling it in wine.
I thanked him much for telling me
The way he got his wealth,
But chiefly for his wish that he
Might drink my noble health.
And now, if e'er by chance I put
My fingers into glue,
Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot
Into a left-hand shoe,
Or if I drop upon my toe
A very heavy weight,
I weep, for it reminds me so
Of that old man I used to know—
Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,
Whose hair was whiter than the snow,
Whose face was very like a crow,
With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,
Who seemed distracted with his woe,
Who rocked his body to and fro,
And muttered mumblingly and low,
As if his mouth were full of dough,
Who snorted like a buffalo—
That summer evening long ago
A-sitting on a gate.
poem by Lewis Carroll
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No, Thank You John
I never said I loved you, John:
Why will you tease me day by day,
And wax a weariness to think upon
With always "do" and "pray"?
You Know I never loved you, John;
No fault of mine made me your toast:
Why will you haunt me with a face as wan
As shows an hour-old ghost?
I dare say Meg or Moll would take
Pity upon you, if you'd ask:
And pray don't remain single for my sake
Who can't perform the task.
I have no heart?-Perhaps I have not;
But then you're mad to take offence
That don't give you what I have not got:
Use your common sense.
Let bygones be bygones:
Don't call me false, who owed not to be true:
I'd rather answer "No" to fifty Johns
Than answer "Yes" to you.
Let's mar our plesant days no more,
Song-birds of passage, days of youth:
Catch at today, forget the days before:
I'll wink at your untruth.
Let us strike hands as hearty friends;
No more, no less; and friendship's good:
Only don't keep in veiw ulterior ends, And points not understood
In open treaty. Rise above
Quibbles and shuffling off and on:
Here's friendship for you if you like; but love,-
No, thank you, John.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Ever Shall It Be
Ever shall it be
When the sky cries rain
Friends come with gentleness
To wipe away the pain
Ever shall it be
The distressing wind sighs
Friends are laughing
To bring joy into your eyes
Ever shall it be
Lonely wolves howl to the moon
Friends gather ‘round you
To sing a merry tune
Ever shall it be
The frozen sit in cold
Friends dance with liveliness
And warm you in their hold
Ever shall it be
The pines moan in sorrow
Friends speak lightly
Of a bright tomorrow
Ever shall it be
Darkness closes in
Friends uncover lights
Shining from within
Ever shall it be
Friends are always there
Friends to lean on
In the depths of despair
poem by Rachel Harris
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The annual obligatory festive write 2012
The annual obligatory festive write 2012
~
tis the season once more
to gather together in celebration
where friends and family
come together to bid farewell
to the year now past
a look ahead to new beginnings
glasses raised, a toast made
to love and all that's important
where songs are sung aloud
jokes shared, memories made
to health, well being, the greater good
to children's laughter echoing
where darker nights roll in
and a frost or snow comes calling
walls decorated in beautiful colour
lights lit and fires blazing
rooms filled until busting
to all I know and love
happy Christmas and new year
I wish you all the best
you are amazing
x x
poem by Matthew Holloway
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