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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear John
(vocals by john prine)
When i woke up this morning
There was a note upon my door
Saying " don't make me no coffee, babe
Cause i won't be back no more"
And that's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
Now jonah got along in the belly of a whale
Daniel in the lion's den
I know a guy that didn't try to get along
And he won't get a chance again
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
She didn't forward no address
No she never said goodbye
All she said was "if you get blue
Just hang your little head and cry"
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
Now my gal's short and stubby
She's mean as she can be
If that little old gal of mine
Ever gets a hold of me
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i fetched your saddle home"
Went down to the bank this morning
The cashier said with a grin
I'm sorry for you little john
But your wife has done been in
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home"
That's all she wrote
"dear john", i sent your saddle home
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dear John (I Sent Your Saddle Home)
(vocals by john prine)
When I woke up this morning
There was a note upon my door
Saying " dont make me no coffee, babe
Cause I wont be back no more"
And thats all she wrote
"dear john", I sent your saddle home"
Now jonah got along in the belly of a whale
Daniel in the lions den
I know a guy that didnt try to get along
And he wont get a chance again
Thats all she wrote
"dear john", I sent your saddle home"
She didnt forward no address
No she never said goodbye
All she said was "if you get blue
Just hang your little head and cry"
Thats all she wrote
"dear john", I sent your saddle home"
Now my gals short and stubby
Shes mean as she can be
If that little old gal of mine
Ever gets a hold of me
Thats all she wrote
"dear john", I fetched your saddle home"
Went down to the bank this morning
The cashier said with a grin
Im sorry for you little john
But your wife has done been in
Thats all she wrote
"dear john", I sent your saddle home"
Thats all she wrote
"dear john", I sent your saddle home
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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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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The Handsome Cabin Boy
It's of a pretty female as you may understand
Her mind been bent for rambling into some foreign land
She dressed herself in sailor's clothes, or so it does appear
And she hired with a captain to serve him for a year
Her cheeks they were like roses and her hair all in a curl
The sailors often smiled and said he looked just like a girl
But eating all the captain's biscuit her colour did destroy
And the waist did swell of pretty Nell, the handsome cabin boy
It was in the Bay of Biscay her gallant ship did plow
One night among the sailors was a fearful floorin' row
They tumbled from their hammocks, for their sleep it did destroy
And they swarmed about the groanin' of the handsome cabin boy
"Oh doctor, dear. Oh doctor," the cabin boy did cry
"The time has come -- I am undone, and I will surely die"
The doctor come a'runnin' and a'smilin' at their fun --
To think a sailor lad should have a daughter or a son
The sailors when they saw the joke, they all did stand and stare
The child belonged to none of them, they solemnly did swear
And the captain's wife she says to him, "My dear I wish you joy
For 'tis either you or me's betrayed the handsome cabin boy"
Your request matches 1 albums and 4 songs
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Lost John
Ha!
This heres a story about lost john
Lost john done flew the coop!
Hee!
How many long gone?
Lost john standin by the railroad track
Waitin for the freight train to come back
Freight train came back and never made no stop
Lost john thought hed have to ride on top
Well hes long, long, long gone (woo-yeah)
And hes long, long, long gone
Yeah, lost john came into the country womans house
Sat down it was quiet, just as quiet as a mouse
She said, now mister lost john, be my friend,
Be my friend up until the end.
cause hes long, long, long gone (what Im talkin bout)
Now that hes long, long, long gone
(yeah came into the country womans house)
Lost john came into a country womans house
Sat there as quiet, quiet as a mouse
Said, mister lost john be my friend,
Be my friend until the end.
Well, Im long, long, long gone
Well, Im long, long, long gone
Yeah, she said, lost john dont you have no fear,
Im sending for the porter, gonna buy some beer.
He said, now woman dont you buy no beer,
The companys on my trail and-a soon be here
cause Im long, long, long gone
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Well hes long, long, long gone
(make it a pair of shoes instead)
Well they caught lost john
Put em in the pen
Cell break went down
And now hes out again
If anybody asks you
Who sung this song
Tell em lonnie donegan
Been ere and gone
Well hes long, long, long gone (ooone)
Well hes long, long, long gone (one more time)
Well hes long, long, long gone
(he goin, he goin)
Well hes long, long, long gone.
(ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba).
[talking part ending leads into goin home]:
Thankyou! thankyou! (oh yeah mike - yea). thankyou very much. now we like to have a surprise for you tonight, and bring on a friend of mine from way back, dr john. (wooooo) yeah. were gonna do
A, were gonna do this song that was written by a, way back aways a british trumpet player/guitarist (ha ha ha ha ha) ken colyer (yeah thats the man). goes like this... one, okay, one...
[leads into goin home]
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Dear John
Key f writers, aubry gass and tex ritter
(f) well when I woke up this mornin,
There was a note upon my door,
Said dont make me no coffee babe,
cause I wont be back no more,
And thats all she wrote, dear john,
Ive (c7) sent your saddle (f) home.
Now jonah got along in the belly of the whale,
Daniel in the lions den,
But I know a guy that didnt try to get along,
And he wont get a chance again,
And thats all she wrote, dear john,
Ive fetched your saddle home.
Now she didnt forward no address,
Nor she didnt say goodbye,
All she said was if you get blue,
Just hang your little head and cry,
And thats all she wrote, dear john,
Ive sent your saddle home.
Now my gals short and stubby,
Shes strong as she can be,
But if that little old gal of mine,
Ever gets a-hold of me,
Thats all she wrote, dear john,
Ive sent your saddle home.
Now jonah got along in the belly of the whale,
Daniel in the lions den,
But I know a man that didnt try to get along,
And he wont get a chance again,
And thats all she wrote, dear john,
Ive fetched your saddle home.
Now I went down to the bank this morning,
The cashier said with a grin,
I feel so sorry for you hank,
But your wife has done been in,
And thats all she wrote, dear john,
Ive sent your saddle home.
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Roundelay
I.
Chloe found Amyntas lying,
All in tears, upon the plain,
Sighing to himself, and crying,
Wretched I, to love in vain!
Kiss me, dear, before my dying;
Kiss me once, and ease my pain.
II.
Sighing to himself, and crying,
Wretched I, to love in vain!
Ever scorning, and denying
To reward your faithful swain.
Kiss me, dear, before my dying;
Kiss me once, and ease my pain.
III.
Ever scorning, and denying
To reward your faithful swain.---
Chloe, laughing at his crying,
Told him, that he loved in vain.
Kiss me, dear, before my dying;
Kiss me once, and ease my pain.
IV.
Chloe, laughing at his crying,
Told him, that he loved in vain;
But, repenting, and complying,
When he kissed, she kissed again:
Kissed him up, before his dying;
Kissed him up, and eased his pain.
poem by John Dryden
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Doctor’s Day,2010
Doctor, doctor, carer of sick!
Doctor, doctor, healer on earth;
Doctor, doctor, noble is thine field;
Doctor, doctor, serve thine brethren well!
Doctor, labor all the more;
Clean and dress the chronic sore;
Let no person taint thine name;
Never forget thine great aim.
Doctor, let not wealth allure;
Doctor, lead a life all pure;
Doctor, try to always cure;
God will bless thee on earth, sure.
Dear Dr.B, K, Padmavathi M.D.,
‘Happy Doctor’s Day,2010! ’
From the Dean and staff of IRT, PMC
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-1-2010
poem by John Celes
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The Letter
With B.E.F. Jun 10. Dear Wife,
(Oh blast this pencil. 'Ere, Bill, lend's a knife.)
I'm in the pink at present, dear.
I think the war will end this year.
We don't see much of them square-'eaded 'Uns.
We're out of harm's way, not bad fed.
I'm longing for a taste of your old buns.
(Say, Jimmie, spare's a bite of bread.)
There don't seem much to say just now.
(Yer what? Then don't, yer ruddy cow!
And give us back me cigarette!)
I'll soon be 'ome. You mustn't fret.
My feet's improvin', as I told you of.
We're out in the rest now. Never fear.
(VRACH! By crumbs, but that was near.)
Mother might spare you half a sov.
Kiss Nell and Bert. When me and you-
(Eh? What the 'ell! Stand to? Stand to!
Jim, give's a hand with pack on, lad.
Guh! Christ! I'm hit. Take 'old. Aye, bad.
No, damn your iodine. Jim? 'Ere!
Write my old girl, Jim, there's a dear.)
poem by Wilfred Owen
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Up On The Housetop
(traditional - arranged by reba mcentire)
Up on the housetop reindeer pause
Out jumps good old santa claus
Down through the chimney with lots of toys
All for the little ones, christmas joys
Ho, ho ho! who wouldnt go? ho, ho ho! who wouldnt go?
Up on the housetop, click, click, click
Down through the chimney with old saint nick
First comes the stocking of little nell
Oh, dear santa fill it well
Give her a dolly that laughs and cries
One that will open and shut her eyes
Ho, ho, ho! who wouldnt go? ho, ho, ho! who wouldnt go?
Up on the housetop, click, click, click
Down through the chimney with old saint nick
Next comes the stocking of little will
Oh, just see what a glorious fill
Here is a hammer and lots of tacks
Also a ball and a whip that cracks
Ho, ho ho! who wouldnt go? ho, ho, ho! who wouldnt go?
Up on the housetop, click, click, click
Down through the chimney with old saint nick
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Up On The Housetop
Album: Wrangler Cowboy Christmas
(B.R. Hanby)
Up on the housetop reindeer pause
Out jumps good old Santa Claus
Down thru the chimney with lots of toys
All for the little ones Christmas joys
Chorus
Ho, ho, ho!
Who wouldn't go!
Ho, ho, ho!
Who wouldn't go!
Up on the housetop
Click, click, click
Down thru the chimney with
Good Saint Nick
--- Instrumental ---
First comes the stocking of little Nell
Oh, dear Santa, fill it well
Give her a dolly that laughs and cries
One that will open and shut her eyes
Chorus
Ho, ho, ho!
Who wouldn't go!
Ho, ho, ho!
Who wouldn't go!
Up on the housetop
Click, click, click
Down thru the chimney with
Good Saint Nick
Up on the housetop
Click, click, click
Down thru the chimney with
Good Saint Nick...
song performed by by Gary Allan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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When a Birthday Comes
A birthday comes just once a year-
A day God-given to rejoice;
A day, they greet, ones near and dear;
A day to celebrate its joys!
A birthday is a joyful day-
A day to remember in life;
A day to walk in heaven’s way;
A day to kiss and hug your wife!
A birthday means kindness of God-
An earthly span of one year gone;
A time to pray and thank the Lord,
For fondly adding one more morn!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-6-2008
poem by John Celes
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The Shot (intro)
phones ringing babies crying]
white guy: Hi how ya doin' ?
nurse: Doctor's office could you hold please? Yes sir can I help you?
white guy: Yes I have a four o'clock appointment I'm here to get my shot.
nurse: Okay come right with me.
white guy: This isn't gonna take too long is it?
nurse: Here we are here have a seat right here.
white guy: Oh great thanks thanks.
nurse: The doctor will be right with you, and can I get you anything?
white guy: Uhh maybe a glass of water would be great.
nurse: Okay great.
[door shuts]
white guy: Damn, what is taking so long?
[door creaks open, funky music in the backround]
doctor Ice Cube: Yo wussup?
white guy: Hi how ya doin' ?
doctor Ice Cube: Alright, let's see what we got here uhh, Mr. White huh?
white guy: Yes sir that's me.
doctor Ice Cube: heh, I heard you don't like shots do ya?
white guy: No I sure don't.
doctor Ice Cube: Aww you're a big boy uhh this won't hurt a bit,
jus' uhh turn your head...
white guy: Let's get this over with.
doctor Ice Cube: yeah uhh, rub a little alcohol on there, right here,
for you, and uhh brace yourself!
[click]
[BANG
song performed by by Ice Cube
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Doctor’s Day,2010(acrostic)
Doctors are a noble lot
Often misunderstood, a slot
Caring for the sick and dying
They comfort the anguished and crying
One true noble profession, world envies
Really doing yeoman service
Sacrificing precious time for patients’ sake
Demanding not much in return
Always ready to save lives
Yet, the world seems dissatisfied!
‘Happy Doctor’s Day! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-1-2010
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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