Abram Morrison
'Midst the men and things which will
Haunt an old man's memory still,
Drollest, quaintest of them all,
With a boy's laugh I recall
Good old Abram Morrison.
When the Grist and Rolling Mill
Ground and rumbled by Po Hill,
And the old red school-house stood
Midway in the Powow's flood,
Here dwelt Abram Morrison.
From the Beach to far beyond
Bear-Hill, Lion's Mouth and Pond,
Marvellous to our tough old stock,
Chips o' the Anglo-Saxon block,
Seemed the Celtic Morrison.
Mudknock, Balmawhistle, all
Only knew the Yankee drawl,
Never brogue was heard till when,
Foremost of his countrymen,
Hither came Friend Morrison;
Yankee born, of alien blood,
Kin of his had well withstood
Pope and King with pike and ball
Under Derry's leaguered wall,
As became the Morrisons.
Wandering down from Nutfield woods
With his household and his goods,
Never was it clearly told
How within our quiet fold
Came to be a Morrison.
Once a soldier, blame him not
That the Quaker he forgot,
When, to think of battles won,
And the red-coats on the run,
Laughed aloud Friend Morrison.
From gray Lewis over sea
Bore his sires their family tree,
On the rugged boughs of it
Grafting Irish mirth and wit,
And the brogue of Morrison.
Half a genius, quick to plan,
Blundering like an Irishman,
But with canny shrewdness lent
By his far-off Scotch descent,
Such was Abram Morrison.
Back and forth to daily meals,
Rode his cherished pig on wheels,
And to all who came to see
'Aisier for the pig an' me,
Sure it is,' said Morrison.
Simple-hearted, boy o'er-grown,
With a humor quite his own,
Of our sober-stepping ways,
Speech and look and cautious phrase,
Slow to learn was Morrison.
Much we loved his stories told
Of a country strange and old,
Where the fairies danced till dawn,
And the goblin Leprecaun
Looked, we thought, like Morrison.
Or wild tales of feud and fight,
Witch and troll and second sight
Whispered still where Stornoway
Looks across its stormy bay,
Once the home of Morrisons.
First was he to sing the praise
Of the Powow's winding ways;
And our straggling village took
City grandeur to the look
Of its poet Morrison.
All his words have perished. Shame
On the saddle-bags of Fame,
That they bring not to our time
One poor couplet of the rhyme
Made by Abram Morrison!
When, on calm and fair First Days,
Rattled down our one-horse chaise,
Through the blossomed apple-boughs
To the old, brown meeting-house,
There was Abram Morrison.
Underneath his hat's broad brim
Peered the queer old face of him;
And with Irish jauntiness
Swung the coat-tails of the dress
Worn by Abram Morrison.
Still, in memory, on his feet,
Leaning o'er the elders' seat,
Mingling with a solemn drone,
Celtic accents all his own,
Rises Abram Morrison.
'Don't,' he's pleading, 'don't ye go,
Dear young friends, to sight and show,
Don't run after elephants,
Learned pigs and presidents
And the likes!' said Morrison.
On his well-worn theme intent,
Simple, child-like, innocent,
Heaven forgive the half-checked smile
Of our careless boyhood, while
Listening to Friend Morrison!
We have learned in later days
Truth may speak in simplest phrase;
That the man is not the less
For quaint ways and home-spun dress,
Thanks to Abram Morrison!
Not to pander nor to please
Come the needed homilies,
With no lofty argument
Is the fitting message sent,
Through such lips as Morrison's.
Dead and gone! But while its track
Powow keeps to Merrimac,
While Po Hill is still on guard,
Looking land and ocean ward,
They shall tell of Morrison!
After half a century's lapse,
We are wiser now, perhaps,
But we miss our streets amid
Something which the past has hid,
Lost with Abram Morrison.
Gone forever with the queer
Characters of that old year
Now the many are as one;
Broken is the mould that run
Men like Abram Morrison.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Related quotes
Disobedience
James James
Morrison Morrison
Weatherby George Dupree
Took great
Care of his Mother,
Though he was only three.
James James Said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he;
"You must never go down
to the end of the town,
if you don't go down with me."
James James
Morrison's Mother
Put on a golden gown.
James James Morrison's Mother
Drove to the end of the town.
James James Morrison's Mother
Said to herself, said she:
"I can get right down
to the end of the town
and be back in time for tea."
King John
Put up a notice,
"LOST or STOLEN or STRAYED!
JAMES JAMES MORRISON'S MOTHER
SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MISLAID.
LAST SEEN
WANDERING VAGUELY:
QUITE OF HER OWN ACCORD,
SHE TRIED TO GET DOWN
TO THE END OF THE TOWN -
FORTY SHILLINGS REWARD!"
James James
Morrison Morrison
(Commonly known as Jim)
Told his
Other relations
Not to go blaming him.
James James
Said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he:
"You must never go down to the end of the town
without consulting me."
James James
Morrison's mother
Hasn't been heard of since.
King John said he was sorry,
So did the Queen and Prince.
King John
(Somebody told me)
Said to a man he knew:
If people go down to the end of the town, well,
what can anyone do?"
(Now then, very softly)
J.J.
M.M.
W.G.Du P.
Took great
C/0 his M*****
Though he was only 3.
J.J. said to his M*****
"M*****," he said, said he:
"You-must-never-go-down-to-the-end-of -the-town-
if-you-don't-go-down-with-ME!"
poem by Alan Alexander Milne
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A Sonnet for Jim Morrison
I went to the concert to see The Doors -
Man, you should have been there and heard the applause!
Jim Morrison had done his thing,
The fabulous, beautiful Lizard King,
'Hello, I love you, won't you tell me your name? '
Nobody there would ever feel the same!
He was our hero in spite of the booze
And nobody guessed he was born to lose,
The alcohol destroyed his voice,
But he loved it so much there was no choice,
He knew it would drive him round the bend,
'This is the End, this is the End! '
Jim Morrison, come back to us,
Travelling again on that old Blue Bus! !
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Make me Proud
Young Morrison was at the plate
The bat gripped in his hands
His Father, Tom, was in the park,
down in the left field Stands.
His Father has lung cancer
and cannot fly on planes.
So he came to Citifield
aboard an Amtrak train.
It was young Logan’s birthday
And he hoped for something great.
He got a pitch that he could square.
He hit it flush and straight.
Not high enough to clear the wall-
Still over Beltran’s head
He hustled as they tracked it down
and made third base instead.
How glad he was to get that hit.
His smile began to grow.
His dad was glad he’d lived to see
His boy called to “the show”
Later, at his birthday party
He gave his Dad a gift
It was exactly what he wanted-
the ball from his first hit.
Tom Logan has inoperable lung cancer. He traveled 29 hours to see his son, Logan Morrison of the Marlins, play Wednesday night at Citifield. The triple Logan Morrison hit that night was the first of his major league career.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself.
quote by Jim Morrison
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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All water has a perfect memory and is forever trying to get back to where it was.
quote by Toni Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am the lizard king. I can do anything.
quote by Jim Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What you see is what you get.
quote by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If it's what you do and you can do it, then you do it.
quote by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I educated myself. To me, school was boring.
quote by Van Morrison
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I think Paul McGuinness and U2 created the Irish music industry. It certainly wasn't there before that.
quote by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where's your will to be weird?
quote by Jim Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The time to hesitate is through.
quote by Jim Morrison
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She is a friend of my mind... The pieces I am, she gather them and give them back to me in all the right order.
quote by Toni Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I write songs. Then, I record them. And, later, maybe I perform them on stage. That's what I do. That's my job. Simple.
quote by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's always got to be a struggle. What else is there? That's what life is made of. I don't know anything else. If there is, tell me about it.
quote by Van Morrison
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Film spectators are quiet vampires.
quote by Jim Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel.
quote by Jim Morrison
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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We have to bring the humanity and compassion back.
quote by Shelley Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I don't think a female running a house is a problem, a broken family. It's perceived as one because of the notion that a head is a man.
quote by Toni Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I just need somewhere to dump all my negativity.
quote by Van Morrison
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