Lass Of Cessnock Banks, The
A Song of Similes
Tune - 'If he be a Butcher neat and trim.'
On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells;
Could I describe her shape and mein;
Our lasses a' she far excels,
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
She's sweeter than the morning dawn,
When rising Phoebus first is seen,
And dew-drops twinkle o'er the lawn;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
She's stately like yon youthful ash,
That grows the cowslip braes between,
And drinks the stream with vigour fresh;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
She's spotless like the flow'ring thorn,
With flow'rs so white and leaves so green,
When purest in the dewy morn;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
Her looks are like the vernal May,
When ev'ning Phoebus shines serene,
While birds rejoice on every spray;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
Her hair is like the curling mist,
That climbs the mountain-sides at e'en,
When flow'r-reviving rains are past;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
Her forehead's like the show'ry bow,
When gleaming sunbeams intervene
And gild the distant mountain's brow;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem,
The pride of all the flowery scene,
Just opening on its thorny stem;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
Her bosom's like the nightly snow,
When pale the morning rises keen,
While hid the murm'ring streamlets flow;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
Her lips are like yon cherries ripe,
That sunny walls from Boreas screen;
They tempt the taste and charm the sight;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
Her teeth are like a flock of sheep,
With fleeces newly washen clean,
That slowly mount the rising steep;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
Her breath is like the fragrant breeze,
That gently stirs the blossom'd bean,
When Phoebus sinks behind the seas;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush,
That sings on Cessnock banks unseen,
While his mate sits nestling in the bush;
An' she has twa sparkling roguish een.
But it's not her air, her form, her face,
Tho' matching beauty's fabled queen;
'Tis the mind that shines in ev'ry grace,
An' chiefly in her roguish een.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Lass Of Cessnock Banks
On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells,
Could I describe her shape and mien!
Our lasses a' she far excels---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
She's sweeter than the morning dawn,
When rising Phoebus first is seen,
And dew-drops twinkle o'er the lawn---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
She's stately like yon youthful ash,
That grows the cowslip braes between,
And drinks the stream with vigour fresh---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
She's spotless like the flow'ring thorn,
With flow'rs so white and leaves so green,
When purest in the dewy morn---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
Her looks are like the vernal May,
When ev'ning Phoebus shines serene,
While birds rejoice on every spray---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
Her hair is like the curling mist,
That climbs the mountain-sides at e'en,
When flower-reviving rains are past---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
Her forehead's like the show'ry bow,
When gleaming sunbeams intervene,
And gild the distant mountain's brow---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
Her cheeks are like yon crimson gem,
The pride of all the flowery scene,
Just opening on its thorny stem---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
Her bosom's like the nightly snow,
When pale the morning rises keen,
While hid the murm'ring streamlets flow---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
Her lips are like yon cherries ripe,
That sunny walls from Boreas screen:
They tempt the taste and charm the sight
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
Her teeth are like a flock of sheep,
With fleeces newly washen clean,
That slowly mount the rising steep---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
Her breath is like the fragrant breeze,
That gently stirs the blossom'd bean,
When Phoebus sinks behind the seas---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
Her voice is like the ev'ning thrush,
That sings on Cessnock banks unseen,
While his mate sits nestling in the bush---
An she has twa sparkling, rogueish een!
But it's not her air, her form, her face,
Tho matching Beauty's fabled Queen:
'Tis the mind that shines in ev'ry grace---
An chiefly in her rogueish een!
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Red, Sparkling Wine
I Have Seen A Sight
Of a Man Falling Down …
… it wasn’t for a Fight
… but it was due to what He’d Found …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She Should Be A Crime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
She Starts out – Flowing – Smooth
Gets in Your Blood – Then You got Somethin’ to Prove!
You Chase Her Intoxicating Perfume
… must be Brand X … or Lady-Doom …
… Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Feeling So Sublime …
Red Sparkling Wine…
… Sweet from the Vine, but She ain’t Vintage
Make You Loose Your Mind and Your Hard-Earned Wages
Her Cheap-Thrills… can’t Heal a Heart, that’s Bruised …
You ain’t in Love! … just in a Bottle of Booze …
of Red Sparkling Wine… Once in awhile is Fine
Red Sparkling Wine… Know the Warning Signs ….
of Red Sparkling Wine…
She’s Beautiful, as She Pours
Your Problems – Passed-Out, on The Floor
She’s Crystal-Blood in an Hour-Glass
Her Pity-Promises… just don’t Last…
Red Sparkling Wine… Does It Every Time
Red Sparkling Wine… She’ll have You begging for Dimes …
… to buy … Red Sparkling Wine…
She’ll leave You Broke, You won’t be able to Think
She’s ‘Madam Dope’ … if You Need One More Drink
… of Red Sparkling Wine… Just a Matter of Time
Red Sparkling Wine… Have Another… ‘ Cause I’m …
… Red Sparkling Wine …
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Who'll Buy Gods Of Love
OF all the beauteous wares
Exposed for sale at fairs,
None will give more delight
Than those that to your sight
From distant lands we bring.
Oh, hark to what we sing!
These beauteous birds behold,
They're brought here to be sold.
And first the big one see,
So full of roguish glee!
With light and merry bound
He leaps upon the ground;
Then springs up on the bougd,
We will not praise him now.
The merry bird behold,--
He's brought here to be sold.
And now the small one see!
A modest look has he,
And yet he's such apother
As his big roguish brother.
'Tis chiefly when all's still
He loves to show his will.
The bird so small and bold,--
He's brought here to be sold.
Observe this little love,
This darling turtle dove!
All maidens are so neat,
So civil, so discreet
Let them their charms set loose,
And turn your love to use;
The gentle bird behold,--
She's brought here to be sold.
Their praises we won't tell;
They'll stand inspection well.
They're fond of what is new,--
And yet, to show they're true,
Nor seal nor letter's wanted;
To all have wings been granted.
The pretty birds behold,--
Such beauties ne'er were sold!
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Sparkling Water
Sparkling Water drips like sugar coming from a grand white sugar cane,
Sparkling Water falls around, to the ground and speeds like cars on a freeway lane.
Sparkling Water glistens and gleams, you know it seems as real as it can be,
Nothing is real, but you hear me feel, the cold, pure breeze.
It pushes away,
In the hot summer day.
Like a frog in the green,
Those annoying little things.
They jump just like water,
Like babies tater toter.
We drink it,
We need it.
Its water, it sparkles, its beautiful, it gleams, so pure, must have it, I need it.
Sparkling Water, its life.
(Simile)
poem by Sam Panchenko
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mountain springs
the wind waltzes with
the sparkling sparkling sun
haiku by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Lady '95
Lady,
When you're with me I'm smiling
Give me all of your love
Your hands
Build me up when I'm sinking
Just touch me
And my troubles all fade
Lady,
From the moment I saw you
Standing all alone
You gave
All the love that I needed
So shy
Like a child who had grown
You're my Lady of the Morning
Love shines in your eyes
Sparkling, clear, and loving
You're my Lady
Lady,
Turn me on when I'm lonely
Show me
All of your charms
Evenings
When you lay down beside me
Just take me gently into your arms
You're my Lady of the Morning
Love shines in your eyes
Sparkling, clear, and loving
You're my Lady
Lady of the Morning
Love shines in your eyes
Sparkling, clear, and loving
You're my Lady
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lady
Lady, when youre with me Im smiling
Give me all your love
Your hands build me up when Im sinking
Just touch me and my troubles all fade
Lady, from the moment I saw you
Standing all alone
You gave all the love that I needed
So shy, like a child who has grown
Youre my lady of the morning
Love shines in your eyes
Sparkling, clear, and lovely
Youre my lady
Lady, turns me on when Im lonely
Show me all your charm
Evenings when she lays down beside me
Just take me gently into your arms
Your my lady of the morning
Love shines in your eyes
Sparkling, clear, and lovely
Youre my lady
Lady of the morning
Love shines in your eyes
Sparkling, clear, and lovely
Youre my ... lady
song performed by by Styx
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sicilian Song
YE black and roguish eyes,
If ye command.
Each house in ruins lies,
No town can stand.
And shall my bosom's chain,--
This plaster wall,
To think one moment, deign,--
Shall I not fall?
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Rising
Rising
On the stream of music
When the dawn shines again new,
From the twilight
From the dark;
Coming through - the rays of light,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Sparkling glisten
Fire steams,
Growing light - beyond the dark;
Red and yellow
Sparkling sparkles,
Twisting shadows
To the deep!
Shades of tempers
Lights of amber,
Orange red and hot!
Flowing like the water
In the blood of fire!
Sparking glisten!
Sparking glisten!
Through the night
Of eternal space,
Through the haze
Of starry rays…
Morning comes and softens the night,
Morning gives the sparkling day.
Sunshine - sunshine!
Shades of tempers,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Beyond the night,
Sunshine - sunshine!
Traveler in dark!
Nirvana,
Haunt me not,
From your dwelling!
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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With The Quandongs
IF you happen to visit the Western Plains
When the summer is young and green,
You can see the green of the quandong leaves
With the quandong fruit between.
The fruit is the size of a plum, perhaps,
And red as your own blood's hue;
And it falls to the ground at the touch of the wind
Like a drop of crimson dew.
The wide plains lie with half-shut eyes
At peace in a golden swoon,
And the lizards drink their full of rest
Abask in the drowsy noon.
There is only the whir of a wing, perchance,
To startle the sleeping lands;
But the quandong trees, all green and red,
Are a-twinkle with little hands.
Oh, many a tress has turned to grey,
And many a song grown mute
Since Rita and Meg and Trixie and I
Went gathering quandong fruit.
And there we were on the plains alone
In the hush of a drowsy air —
Rita and Meg with roguish eyes
And Trixie with wayward hair.
A far mirage of mingled sun and dream
Was born of the noontide sleep,
And the rifled fruit of the quandongs lay
At our feet in a ruddy heap.
I know that the quandong's burning fruit
Still reddens the drowsy air;
That Trixie is grown and sometime wed,
And Rita is grave and fair.
I know that Meg of the roguish eyes,
Though ten long years be sped,
Still plucks the fruit of the quandong trees
When the quandong fruit is red.
I know — and I know to my loss, alas! —
That I stand where the winds blow cold,
And search, with others, another tree
For its scanty fruit of gold.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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Efua
Efua, efua,
Magic as it happens.
Sparkling light,
Sparkling bright,
Piece of music
In the night.
Magic heard and magic seen,
Overflow
Of the Truth
In the denseness
Of the night.
Efua, efua,
How could it have happened?
On a frosty, windy eve
On your broom of make-believe
Swooshed you down
Into town,
Falling with the milky-white:
Efua, efua,
Sparkling Wonder of the Night.
poem by Sadia Arman
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Changing Time
THE cloud looked in at the window,
And said to the day, 'Be dark!'
And the roguish rain tapped hard on the pane,
To stifle the song of the lark.
The wind sprang up in the tree tops
And shrieked with a voice of death,
But the rough-voiced breeze, that shook the trees,
Was touched with a violet's breath.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Coming Down
Sipping my cup of camomile,
My peaceful face breaks into smile,
Reflecting on the longest mile,
The hands reset upon the dial,
No roguish thoughts can my mood spoil,
As to my feelings, I've stayed loyal.
poem by Greg Costello
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A Minute
She plucked a blossom fair to see;
Upon my coat I let her pin it;
And thus we stood beneath the tree
A minute.
She turned her smiling face to me;
I saw a roguish sweetness in it;
I kissed her once;—it took, maybe,
A minute.
The time was paltry, you’ll agree;
It took but little to begin it;
But since my heart has not been free
A minute.
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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In Bubblegum
If you need a holiday somewhere in the sun
Let me show you something that is really fun
Take a sparkling holiday somewhere in bubblegum
You can lie down in the shadow of electric silver trees
You can play ferry sinking victim looking water-ski
And if you want excitement ask the poet kids
They all look like charly manson a bit
Take a sparkling holiday.. its such a fun
You might have a quite interesting sightseeing tour
Go to hangover purgatory nightmare shore
See the damned and the dead and the died for love
The commercial gurus, the artist and the stuff
And if you come to lovey church, sit down in second row
You can hear your sister screaming in the room below
And the priest will claim thus they might be sure
A girl can either be a saint or a whore
Take a sparkling holiday...
Come to the old bridge where the jokers juggle with your fears
Give them a penny and theyll show you how to exorcise
And under the bridge the junkies shoot sperm
Its so expensive these days and they substitute the yearning
And if you want to dine, go to loonys inn
They serve sweet, good collapse with trauma and gin
And afterwards you may need a rest
Then Ill tell you pere lachaise is the best
Take a sparkling holiday...
song performed by by Alphaville
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Sparkling Smile
Just as a share joy,
Just like the love of it;
Unveil the real you when love knocks at your door.
Just the sheer of it,
Just a little smile for love;
Unveil the real you whenever duty calls.
Just like the hearing of voices from a distance,
Just like talking to the malakims;
Knit your heart out for the true love around you.
My sheer convidence,
The pride of it;
For her and for him like,
A sparkling smile to see what love is all about.
Red wine, coffee and tea;
My mind is bigger than my shoes!
For, i have the love for everyone.
Unveil the real you when true love calls,
And light up your face within the walls;
A sparkling smile is all that you need on this love.
Just the sheer of it,
Just the smile of love to keep you going;
Privileged like a monkey with banana when,
True love do knock at your door.
You're worth of it,
Take the sparkling smile of life;
You are all that is needed,
So share the true joy of it;
And, don't turn back on this love.
My mind is bigger than my shoes,
My eyes are sharper than my knife,
My legs are longer than my trousers,
My hands are shorter than my pen,
A sparkling smile on this love is all that you need;
So knit out your heart for this true love around you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Rain
Come like a blanket to cover me
in a soft sieving mist
and even if the sun
still shines,
come fall down
from the grey sky,
hang in sparkling drops,
on the leaves of every tree,
bath the drooping willow
in a shower of spray,
let your drops in water flow
and make the black road steam,
catch me in the open
and ruffle through my hair
and let your blessing
be everywhere.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Rain [1]
Come like a blanket to cover me
in a soft sieving mist
and even if the sun
still shines,
come fall down
from the grey sky,
hang in sparkling drops,
on the leaves of every tree,
bath the drooping willow
in a shower of spray,
let your drops in water flow
and make the black road steam,
catch me in the open
and ruffle through my hair
and let your blessing
be everywhere.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pleasure Trip
Hurrah! We are going for tour of pleasure
At children's park we shall ride on rotarian chair
Crossing narrow streets shall go far away
Shall run to sky, to vast field through milky-way
Young friends prepare for travel for roaming
Avoid roguish, get on bus for pleasure hunting
The coming gladness is how much could you measure?
poem by Bongokobida Zakaria
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Kisses of Love…
10 October 2008
The sun a luminous explosion
in green trees lining the street,
sparkling brightly, it hurts to turn
away and lose it out of sight
Wanting to experience visual
bewitchment in a tactile way, to
FEEL the beauty I can only see
in soft, velvet textures
Rebelling against eyesight’s
limitations, the constraint of not
feeling what is seen, ears strain-
ing to hear the sparkling colours
A dance of shimmering brightness,
hands longing to feel the glowing
greens, lips burning to cover the
enchanting scene with
Kisses of love…
poem by Margaret Alice
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