En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Little Susan

Air -- "The Pride of Caldair"

Once there was a little girl
And her friends loved her dear --
Her parents loved their little one,
She did their hearts cheer.
They loved their little darling,
As with them she did roam,
They called her little Susan,
The pride of their home.

Blue eyes had little Susan,
And light flaxen hair,
And she was a pleasant child to see,
So beautiful and fair.
With her parents she will never more
On earth with them roam --
They loved their little Susan,
The pride of their home.

Her parents had more children,
There were nine of them all --
There are eight of them living,
For God but one called.
The flower of their family
God called to his home,
It was their little Susan,
The pride of their home.

Her friends will not forget her,
Though she died years ago --
It was John H. Moore's daughter,
Her age was four years old.
She is waiting in heaven,
Waiting for her friends to come
And be with their little Susan,
The pride of their home.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Little Libbie

One more little spirit to Heaven has flown,
To dwell in that mansion above,
Where dear little angels, together roam,
In God's everlasting love.

One little flower has withered and died,
A bud near ready to bloom,
Its life on earth is marked with pride;
Oh, sad it should die so soon.

Sweet little Libbie, that precious flower
Was a pride in her parents' home,
They miss their little girl every hour,
Those friends that are left to mourn.

Her sweet silvery voice no more is heard
In the home where she once roamed;
Her place is vacant around the hearth,
Where her friends are mourning lone.

They are mourning the loss of a little girl,
With black eyes and auburn hair,
She was a treasure to them in this world,
This beautiful child so fair.

One morning in April, a short time ago,
Libbie was active and gay;
Her Saviour called her, she had to go,
E're the close of that pleasant day.

While eating dinner, this dear little child
Was choked on a piece of beef.
Doctors came, tried their skill awhile,
But none could give relief.

She was ten years of age, I am told,
And in school stood very high.
Her little form now the earth enfolds,
In her embrace it must ever lie.

Her friends and schoolmates will not forget
Little Libbie that is no more;
She is waiting on the shining step,
To welcome home friends once more.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Maryette Myers

Air -- "Lily of the West"

Come all you sympathizing friends, wherever you may be,
I pray you pay attention and listen unto me;
For it's of a fair young lady, she died, she went to rest,
She was called handsome Maryette, the lily of the west.

Her name was Maryette Myers, and her age I do not know,
Her cheeks were red as roses, her eyes were black as sloes;
She was loved by all surrounding friends, and some that loved her best,
They called her handsome Maryette, the lily of the west.

She was a fair young damsel as ever you wish to see,
And in the circle of her friends they miss her company;
They miss the merry laughter of that loved one gone to rest,
They called her handsome Maryette, the lily of the west.

She was before the looking glass, poor girl, her hair to comb,
She was taken blind, she nearly fell, she only gave a moan,
Her friends they caught her in their arms and laid her down to rest,
She was the handsome Maryette, the lily of the west.

She was away from home, and her mother dear had come
To see her darling daughter, her dear loving one;
She left a true lover, a lover with the rest,
That loved this handsome Maryette, the lily of the west.

"She was buried on her wedding day," these words a friend gave,
Her lover went as a mourner, a mourner to her grave,
His name was Forest Dilly, a young man over west,
He loved this handsome Maryette, the lily of the west.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Hattie House

Air -- "Lily Dale"

Come all kind friends, wherever you may be,
Come listen to what I say,
It's of a little girl that was pleasant to see,
And she died while out doors at play.

CHORUS:

Oh! Hattie, dear Hattie,
Sweet little Hattie House --
May the flowers ever bloom o'er the little tomb,
Of our loved one, Hattie House.

She had blue eyes and light flaxen hair,
Her little heart was light and gay,
She said to her mother, that morning fair,
"Mother, can I go out and play?"

Her mother tied her bonnet on,
Not thinking it would be the last
She would ever see her dear little one
In this world, little Hattie House.

She left the house, this dear little girl,
On that bright and pleasant day --
She went to play with two little girls
That were near about her age.

She was not gone but a little while
When they heard her playmates call --
Her friends hastened there to save the child,
Alas, she was dead and gone.

Those little girls will not forget
The day little Hattie died,
For she was with them when she fell in a fit,
While playing by their side.

She was her parents' only child,
And her age was near six years,
And now she has left them for a while --
Left all her friends in tears.

She has left this world of grief and woe,
Dear friends, she has left behind --
She is waiting on the other shore,
To meet them bye and bye.

One fine morning, the fifth of July,
The summer flowers were in bloom,
Eighteen seventy-one, little Hattie died,
And is sleeping in her tomb.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Little Minnie

Air -- "In the Cottage by the Sea"

Come listen to a painful story
A mother is going to tell,
For her heart is over-flowing
For that one she loved so well.
It's of a little infant daughter,
Mild and lovely, bright and fair --
She has left this world forever,
Left this world of grief and care.

Chorus --

Alone, all alone
In the grave yard she is sleeping,
That little one we loved so well --
God her little soul is keeping,
For he doeth all things well.

Oh! how sadly we'll remember,
On a bright and pleasant day --
It was the very last of summer
That her spirit fled away;
Fled away from earth forever,
Gone to dwell with Him above,
Where little angels dwell together
In His everlasting love.

Oh! we miss our little Minnie,
With blue eyes and flaxen hair --
Oh, we loved our little Minnie,
And we miss her every where;
Yes, we miss her at the table
Every morning, noon and night,
While she sat with us together,
For she was our heart's delight.

On the twenty-fifth of August,
Eighteen hundred and seventy-three,
God he called her then to leave us,
And a parting had to be.
As the day it was declining,
The sun was down behind the trees,
Little Minnie she was dying,
Her little soul it had to leave.

Left this world of earthly trouble
And her friends that loved her dear,
Father, mother, sister, brother,
Her place with them is vacant here.
Her little soul is at rest forever
In our Father's heavenly home,
Her little form is sweetly sleeping
In the cold and silent tomb.

Oh! she was our eldest daughter,
She was handsome to behold --
Every one that knew her loved her,
And her age was four years old.
And we miss her merry laughter,
Through the house she used to roam --
That little one, we'll not forget her
In our dear and loving home.

Oh! how oft-times we have kissed her
And caressed her little form --
God of heaven knows we loved her
From the day that she was born.
On a day of independence,
Eighteen hundred and sixty-nine,
God he gave to us a present
Of that little girl so fine.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Cash for Keys

They'd struck the best deal they could manage.
Then the movers showed up at the door.
The home they had loved, they departed
It hurt them that the neighbors all saw.

With two girls, both boarding at Stanford
they'd refinanced their home to raise cash.
Just before J.P. Morgan acquired
Bear Sterns and before Lehman crashed.

By the Spring, Susan's work became part time.
Ronnie threw out his back in the Fall.
With income down half from the boom years,
foreclosure was hard to forestall.

In Riverdell, there are some mansions
that people pay millions to own.
Although Susan's place was more modest,
the river ran right past her home.

Susan's house now sits sad and empty
the snow piling up all around.
It 's been winterized by her old lender
at least till a buyer is found.

I wonder if Eve and her Adam
suffered just as much pain and disgrace
when they got their eviction from Eden
and had to hand back the key to the place.

poem by John F. McCullagh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Infant Days

Air -- "The Rain upon the Roof"

When I was a little infant,
And I lay in mother's arms,
Then I felt the gentle pressure
Of a loving mother's arms.
"Go to sleep my little baby,
Go to sleep," mamma would say;
"Oh, will not my little lady
Go to sleep for ma to-day."

Oh! my parents loved me dearly,
For I was their eldest born,
And they always called me Julia
In a mild and loving form.
My parents will not forget me,
Though I married and left their home,
For they can remember clearly
How with them I once did roam.

Oh! my mother, how I love her,
Though her head is growing gray,
For in fancy I can see her
Bending o'er me night and day,
As she did when I was little,
Watching me in sleep and play --
Mother now is growing feeble,
Now I will her love repay.

Oh! my father, how I love him,
For he has worked hard for me,
For to earn my food and clothing,
In my little infancy.
And oh, I will not forget him,
While on earth I do remain --
May the God of heaven bless him
In this world of grief and pain.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

John Robinson

AIR -- "The Drunkard"

Come listen, friends, and hear a song,
It is a doleful one,
About a young man, dead and gone --
He died far away from home.
John Robinson this young man's name,
His age I cannot tell,
And he was loved by all his friends,
And he was known full well.

His father and mother being dead,
It left him an orphan boy,
When he was with his brother
His health failed him, poor boy.
Kind friends they thought 'twould do him good
To travel for his health;
To California he did go
With his Uncle Zera French.

He was not gone but a short time
When a letter his friends received;
It told how homesick Johnny was,
How he for home did grieve.
It said that he was getting worse,
And his money was nearly gone,
And if he did not soon return
Never more would he see home.

It said, "Dear Brother, will you please
Some money to me send,
For I fear I have not got enough
To bring me back again.
The doctor says I must soon return,
If I wish my home to see,
For if I stay my life is short,
For the air disagrees with me."

His brother Will the letter read,
It made his eyes grow dim.
"Dear brother, he shall soon return,
For I will go and fetch him."
This brother dear was very kind;
With money, he went with haste
For to bring him home again,
But Oh! he went too late.

For he was sick, and very bad --
Poor boy, he thought, no doubt,
If he came home in a smoking car
His money would hold out.
He started to come back alone --
He came one-third the way --
One evening in the car alone
His spirit fled away.

No friend was near to speak to him,
Or hear his dying moan;
How sad, how sad it must have been
To die there all alone;
No loving friends to soothe his brow,
Or ease his weary form;
Poor soul, poor soul is now at rest,
For his soul to heaven has gone.

Telegraph dispatch was sent his friends --
How sad were they to hear --
How their loved one died all alone,
In a car with no one near.
The brother brought his body home
To his friends that loved him best.
He's sleeping in their grave yard now
Let peace be e'er his rest.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Going Home

Writers: leo sayer & alan tarney
No crying no sighing Im going home
Im leaving no grieving Im going home
And theres no one here
And theres nothing here gonna turn me around
Been a lifetime here full of doubt and fear
Been the talk of the town
Im going home
Im going home
Im going home
Im smiling Im flying Im going home
No sad face no suitcase Im going home
And Im thinking back
To the girl I left is she waiting for me
When I left my heart wasnt in my hands
Is she waiting home for me
When I get home
When I get home
When I get home
I know my friends will be there
And they will welcome me
Ill wash away these memories
From these dirty streets
When I get home
When I get home
When I get home
When I get home
Im dreaming Im scheming Im going home
Im racing times wasting Im going home
And I see my home and I see my dream
I see everyone there
Going right back down to when I was free
And I hadnt a care
Im going home
Im going home
Im going home
And in my babys eyes
I see joy and pride
Uncover all those lies
That I left behind
When I get home
And I see my home and I see my dream
I see everyone there
Going right back down to when I was free
And I hadnt a care
When I get home

song performed by by Leo Sayer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

William House and Family

Come all kind friends, both far and near,
Come listen to me and you shall hear --
It's of a family and their fate,
All about them I will relate.

They once did live at Edgerton,
They once did live at Muskegon,
From there they went to Chicago,
Which proved their fatal overthrow.

It was William House's family,
As fine a family as you see --
His family was eleven in all,
I do not think it was very small.

Two children died some years ago,
Before they went to Chicago,
Five children there he had with him,
When death his home there enters in.

The small-pox then was raging there,
And Oh! it would not their house spare,
For all but one was sick of them,
A dreadful house it must have been.

The eldest girl was married then,
The eldest boy was in Michigan,
The second boy he was at home,
And took care of them all alone.

His father and his mother dear,
And dear sister, too, I hear,
Were very sick and in his care,
And no kind friends to help him there:

Two little brothers, and a baby too,
Made six in all -- what could he do,
He had to take care of them all,
The baby, too, was very small.

As he would go to his father's bed,
And try to soothe his aching head,
"My son, I pray you leave me, do
Go take care of poor mother, too."

"Your mother and sister need your care,
And your little infant brother there;
Oh! Charlie, Charlie, take care of them,
My son, do all for them you can."

It seemed as though he did not know
That his poor soul so soon must go,
And leave his little ones he loved,
To go to that bright world above.

But God he called his soul away,
It had to leave, it could not stay --
He never more on earth will be,
His soul is from sin and sorrow free.

Charles helped the sexton, I am told,
To lay his form in the coffin cold --
How sad, how sad, poor soul was he,
When last his father's form did see.

Minnie May House she had to go,
And leave her friends that loved her so --
She was a girl in her teens,
A lovely flower as e'er was seen.

Minnie and her mother lay on one bed,
And when Charles said, "our Minnie is dead,"
His mother then she did grow wild,
And early after knew her child.

They buried Minnie by her father's side,
And left them there where they had died --
Charles took his mother and brothers then
And brought them back to Michigan.

For the mother and the baby too,
Kind friends did all that they could do,
But those poor souls they could not save,
For now they're sleeping in their grave.

Oh! what a noble son was he,
His age was then only sixteen --
Charles House's name I have told before
God bless his soul forever more.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Black-eyed Susan

Black-eyed susan
You make us nervous
Because were very aware that you do not care
Oh, black-eyed susan
What dont you believe in ?
No is always easier than yes
Whoo !
Black-eyed susan
You must insist :
You are a born-again atheist, oh
Oh, heavy-rings on
Bitten fingers
Black-eyed susan sometimes
Shakes to break
So, watch it
Oh ...
Black-eyed susan
Rest and do nothing
cause its the only thing that you do quite well
Aah ...
Black-eyed susan
Rest and do nothing
cause its the only thing that you do quite well
Aah ...
Black-eyed susan
Rest and do nothing
cause its the only thing that you do quite well
Aah ...
Black-eyed susan
Please remember
We were the first
We were the first
Oh ...

song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Kidnapped Child

Though they are with you
Yet....they're alone
Frightened and longing
For surroundings they've known

....Send them on home

To loved ones awaiting
Loved ones......deprived
Of an answer to the question
...'Is my child alive'

....Send them on home

'Cause time is still dragging
...Seconds.......seem years
Siblings and parents
...Living...the tears

Send them on home

.....To the happiness
And laughter..once they knew
If there is any decency
....Left ever..........in you
..............Then..

Send them on home

poem by James B. Earley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Young Henry

Air -- "Drummer Boy of Waterloo"

Young Henry was as faithful boy
As ever stood on the American soil,
And he did enlist, without a doubt,
When the rebellion was broke out.

He was his parents' only son,
And only child he was but one,
That was a girl aged seventeen,
Henry called her his May Queen.

Young Henry said, "Dear sister May,
What do you think my friends will say?
For now my name is on the roll,
And I down south will have to go."

"I hear my country's call," said he,
"For all her sons of liberty,
And I, forever, will prove true
To that dear old flag, red, white and blue."

"I love my father and mother dear,
I leave you, May, their hearts to cheer;
When I am gone, pray do not mourn
If I should never return home."

His sister then to him did say,
"My only brother, blithe and gay,
Our country calls, calls from afar;
May God protect you through the war."

Their father hearing all was said,
It made his noble heart grow sad;
"My children, I love both of you,
And yet I love my country, too."

"My son, if I was young again,
I never could at home remain,
And see my native land, now free,
Dissolved and made in slavery."

Young Henry left his father's home,
And left his friends for him to mourn,
A captain of a little band,
He marched away from Michigan.

In the battle of Fredericksburg,
Above the battle roar was heard,
"Fight on! fight on! brave boys," he cried,
"I am shot and wounded, and must die."

They placed his head upon the grass,
So he could see his brave boys pass;
"Go tell my father, Henry's slain
To keep him from the rebel's chain."

They dug his grave beneath that spot,
They wrapped him in his soldier's coat,
And while the battle drums they heard,
They laid him low at Fredericksburg.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

My Cottage Home

1.

My home, my home, my cottage home,
Thou fair and lovely spot,
How sad and lonely is my soul,
When I can view thee not;
The vines may blossom in my path,
And flowers I most adore,
But what are all their charm to me,
If not beside my door.

2.

Home is a name ne'er forget,
Like other names of earth;
We never grow old to love
The spot that gave us birth;
And when in dreams of faded years;
Of all our youthful pride,
How sweet to dwell beneath the roof,
Where our dear parents died.

3.

My home, my home, my cottage home,
I'll love thee evermore,
And evry heart that greets me when
I reach thy humble door;
And though my mother's smile be gone;
My mother's watchful care,
I love to dwell beneath the roof,
For home was always there.

poem by Septimus Winner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

William Upson

Air -- "The Major's Only Son"

Come all good people, far and near,
Oh, come and see what you can hear,
It's of a young man, true and brave,
Who is now sleeping in his grave.

Now, William Upson was his name --
If it's not that it's all the same --
He did enlist in the cruel strife,
And it caused him to lose his life.

He was Jesse Upson's eldest son,
His father loved his noble son;
This son was nineteen years of age,
In the rebellion he engaged.

His father said that he might go,
But his dear mother she said no.
"Stay at home, dear Billy," she said,
But oh, she could not turn his head.

For go he would, and go he did --
He would not do as his mother bid,
For he went away down South, there
Where he could not have his mother's care.

He went to Nashville, Tennessee,
There his kind friends he could not see;
He died among strangers, far away,
They knew not where his body lay.

He was taken sick and lived four weeks,
And oh, how his parents weep,
But now they must in sorrow mourn,
Billy has gone to his heaven home.

If his mother could have seen her son,
For she loved him, her darling one,
If she could heard his dying prayer,
It would ease her heart till she met him there.

It would relieved his mother's heart,
To have seen her son from this world depart,
And hear his noble words of love,
As he left this world for that above.

It will relieve his mother's heart,
That her son is laid in our grave yard;
Now she knows that his grave is near,
She will not shed so many tears.

She knows not that it was her son,
His coffin could not be opened --
It might be some one in his place,
For she could not see his noble face.

He enrolled in eighteen sixty-three,
The next day after Christmas eve;
He died in eighteen sixty-four,
Twenty-third of March, as I was told.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Detroit City

You know last night I went to sleep in detroit city
And I dreamed about those cotton fields and home
I dreamed about my mother, dear old papa, sisters and brothers
And I dreamed about a love whos been waiting there so long
I want to go home
I want to go home
Oh how I want to go home
My kinfolks think Im big in detraoit city
From all the letters that I write, they think Im fine
By day I make the cars
But, by night I make all the bars
Oh if only theys just read between the lines
Theyd know I want to go home
I want to go home
Oh how I want to go home
You know I rode a freight train north to detroit city
And after all these years I find Ive been wasting my time
Think Ill put my foolish pride on a southbound train and ride
Heading back to the loved ones I left there waiting behind
Repeat chorus

song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

A Home

I mistook the warnings for wisdom
From so called friends quick to advise
Though your touch was telling me otherwise
Somehow I saw you as a weakness
I thought I had to be strong
Oh but I was just young, I was scared, I was wrong
Not a night goes by
I dont dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home
Guess I did what I did believing
That love is a dangerous thing
Oh but that couldnt hurt anymore than never knowing
Not a night goes by
I dont dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home
A home
Four walls, a roof, a door, some windows
Just a place to run when my working day is through
They say home is where the heart is
If the exception proves the rule I guess thats true
Not a night goes by
I dont dream of wandering
Through the home that might have been
And I listened to my pride
When my heart cried out for you
Now every day I wake again
In a house that might have been
A home
A home

song performed by by Dixie Chicks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Burial in the Snow

How well do I remember
Of a burial in the snow,
On a winter's evening
Some fifteen years ago;
The ground was covered over
With the beautiful crystal snow,
And it glistened in the moonlight,
Like diamonds all aglow.

It was a pleasant evening,
That merry Christmas eve;
And I never can forget, how
The frost hung on the tree.
The moon was shining clearly,
And the sleigh-bells rang so sweet;
Ah, it was splendid sleighing,
The snow was two feet deep.

My grandparents were living
Some two miles then away,
My parents went to see them,
To spend the holiday.
I went with my kind parents,
For the evening was sublime,
To see dear aunts and uncles,
And have a merry time,

I saw the beaming faces
Of my grandparents dear,
As they met us on the door-step,
With welcome words of cheer.
In fancy I can see them
As in the days of yore,
When they welcome home their children
Through the old familiar door.

The banquet board that evening,
Was filled with cake and wine,
Delicious fruits and oysters
That came from foreign clime.
It was a merry party
That met once more to roam,
My grandparents were happy,
Their children were all home.

Grandpapa said, "dear children,
Lay the tea things aside,
And some of you get ready
To take a pleasant ride.
The moon is shining clearly,
The evening is sublime,
O'er the crystal snow we'll glide,
And have a jolly time."

Hats and cloaks were soon put on,
By those who wish to go,
They were wrapped up snug and warm,
For a sleigh ride o'er the snow.
Their hearts were light and gleeful,
They rode away with ease,
I never can forget them,
Or that merry Christmas eve.

On that beautiful evening,
They rode five miles away,
O'er hills, and dales, and frozen snow,
With prospects bright and gay.
They came to their journey's end,
And soon were homeward bound,
A more joyous, happy band
Was nowhere to be found,

The merry sleigh bells ringing
Out on the midnight air,
And merry voices singing
All "right side up with care! "
The horses were high-spirited,
They ran away, and lo!
Broke loose from the sleigh, and left
It buried in the snow.

The people of that party
Lay scattered all around,
Some were frightened, others laughed,
To think it happened so,
That the end of their sleigh ride
Was a burial in the snow.

Yet they were gay and happy,
The bright moon o'er them shone,
And laughing o'er their sleigh ride,
They all went trudging home.
Some of those friends are dead and gone,
That met in that old home,
And never will we meet again,
Around that dear hearth stone.

poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Susan Is Lost

Susan is lost
-she doesn't believe her fortune
will come across

Susan is lost
-her faith of the world
is not held aloft

Susan is lost
-all that she loves
has come and gone

Susan is lost
-she doesn't know if she should stand up
When it ain't time to fall

poem by Fushuai Jiang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

991. Give Me The Pride Of Being Your Child.

You bestow
Some people with pride of having best parents.
Some with pride of inheriting immense wealth.
Some with pride of being born in high caste.
Some with pride of possessing an extraordinary talent.
Some with pride of controlling a great mass.
.....

For me, You denied all these.
I too don’t regret.
In fact, I thank You
For not having added all these
To my already taxing ego.

But, don’t deny Your uplifting love.
Give me only one pride.
The pride of being Your child!

poem by Raman Savithiri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

A House Without Love

Recorded by: hank williams, sr.
Writer: hank williams, sr.
Capo: 4th fret/key: b/play: g
[g] for years we both have lived on pride, [d7] dear
And we agree that love is [g] gone
Why, oh why do we keep [d7] tryin
A house without love is not a [g] home. [g7]
The [c] lovelight in your eyes has [g] faded
And Im contented just to [d7] roam
We [g] slaved to gain a worthless [d7] treasure
A house without love is not a [g] home.
No matter where our footsteps wander
I know well both be all alone
With the pride that came between us
A house without love is not a home.
The simple things have gone forever
We wanted wealth to call our own
And now weve reached the hour of parting
A house without love is not a home.

song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!