The Parrot
In painted plumes superbly dress'd,
A native of the gorgeous east,
By many a billow toss'd;
Poll gains at length the British shore,
Part of the captain's precious store,
A present to his toast.
Belinda's maids are soon preferr'd,
To teach him now then a word,
As Poll can master it;
But 'tis her own important charge,
To qualify him more at large,
And make him quite a wit.
Sweet Poll! his doting mistress cries,
Sweet Poll! the mimic bird replies,
And calls aloud for sack.
She next instructs him in the kiss;
'Tis now a little one, like Miss,
And now a hearty smack.
At first he aims at what he hears;
And, listening close with both his ears,
Just catches at the sound;
But soon articulate aloud,
Much to the amusement of the crowd,
And stuns the neighbors round.
A querulous old woman's voice
His humorous talent next employs,
He scolds, and gives the lie,
And now he sings, and now is sick,
Here, Sally, Susan, come, come quick,
Poor Poll is like to die!
Belinda and her bird! 'tis rare
To meet with such a well match'd pair,
The language and the tone,
Each character in every part
Sustain'd with so much grace and art,
And both in unison.
When children first begin to spell,
And stammer out a syllable,
We think them tedious creatures;
But difficulties soon abate,
When birds are to be taught to prate,
And women are the teachers.
poem by William Cowper
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
I Have A Poll Parrot
I have a Poll parrot,
And Poll is my doll,
And my nurse is Polly,
And my sister Poll.
‘Polly!’ cried Polly,
‘Don't tear Polly, dolly’ -
While soft-hearted Poll
Trembled for the doll.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ultimate Love
Never seen the Mona Lisa
Never walked across the moon
Never been to Casa Blanca
But I've been to Cancun
I'll never make the Fortune 500
On what I get paid
Please don't pity me,
'Cause I've got everything I need
Life don't get no better
I could live forever and never top this
Oh, I'm in poll position
Got a sweet suspicion there ain't nothin'
I've missed
Baby look at us
Standing in the middle of this ultimate love
When I was seventeen I shook
Joe Namath's hand
Once I won karaoke singin' "Piano Man"
One time in Vegas I won me 700 bucks
That's all real cool stuff but it don't
Measure up
Life don't get no better
I could live forever and never top this
Oh, I'm in poll position
Got a sweet suspicion there ain't nothin'
I've missed
Baby look at us
Standing in the middle of this ultimate love
Well, I don't know too much,
but I know this love
Is bigger than the both of us
Life don't get no better
I could live forever and never top this
Oh, I'm in poll position
Got a sweet suspicion that there ain't nothin'
I've missed
Baby look at us
Standing in the middle of this ultimate love
Love, love
song performed by by Phil Vassar
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every poll shows that most journalists are Democrats.
quote by Sally Quinn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jigsaw
Here we hear that a perch stands for fish or for pole, -
though this pole can be twenty four feet long or square –
or a pole upon which
a kingfisher can perch
before diving to fish for his dinner dish.
Don’t consider it rude if we add that a rood
is the same as a perch, or a pole or a rod,
and a rood is a Cross, so please don’t become cross
as we must get across that this cross can be square, -
and this square cross can lengthwise be measured – so there!
A pole, too, is a fish, somewhat flounderish
with fine fins which swish and a face like a dish.
Thus kingfisher must fish for his dish, and that dish is a dish,
so lets face it in anguish, - a dish is a dish is a fish!
As a face is a head, and a head is a poll
which tells who is ahead, or shows what each prole
thought of what someone said:
and a wat, as all know, is a temple Cambo –
all the sages who sow seeds of wisdom say, - oh,
to all this don’t say ‘No! ’
Then watt brings us a light which shines down in the night, -
though this seems ‘out of sight’, you should now see the light, -
that kingfishers alight as they perch on their pole
ere they pounce on their poll
for to search for their perch,
for the soul of the sole in the shoal.
What rude fishermen do
before rod poles align
with a line from their perch to their perch.
Like the kingfisher too, bird of brilliant hue,
is our parrot, Poll, who is no stranger to you.
When he’s not being rude he tends somewhat to brood
or repeat through and through, as in these lines I do.
poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Belinda
Dennis linde
Oh sweet, sweet belinda
They say that you are looking for a home
Fresh out of a love affair
Fresh out of hope
Fresh out of dreams
I know youre as strong as any human can be
But you need love, why dont you take it from me?
I know I aint much, but you can have me for free
Belinda
Oh sweet, sweet belinda
You dont owe me no gratitude or love
Were just two souls stuck here
Two lonely rivers filled with light
Two lights shining on the darkness ahead
Two feet touching in a cold winters bed
I promised you safety, but I loved you instead
Belinda
Oh-oh belinda Id die of loneliness
If you ever left, belinda
Oh-oh belinda Id die of loneliness
If you ever left, belinda
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just as it would be madness to settle on medical treatment for the body of a person by taking an opinion poll of the neighbors, so it is irrational to prescribe for the body politic by polling the opinions of the people at large.
No poll can equal the day-to-day visits of the men and women of the Democratic Party.
quote by Richard J. Daley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Belinda
Belinda the rain is falling
Belinda your love is calling
Belinda hed never leave you
Belinda he wont deceive you
Belinda your mind is dreaming
Belinda its so misleading
Belinda hed never leave you
Belinda he wont deceive you
How the rain still falls
Belinda your eyes have spoken
Belinda your heart is broken
Belinda hed never leave you
Belinda he wont deceive you
Dry your tears...
Close your eyes...
song performed by by Eurythmics
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reply to the Above, by F.W.F.
"Te quoque vatem dicunt pastores."—VIRGIL.
O Maxwell, if by reason’s strength
And studying of Babbage,
You have transformed yourself at length
Into a mental cabbage;
And if I've proved myself a lark
At morn and blushing even,
By soaring like a music-spark
Thro’ sapphire fields of Heaven,
Our diverse fates are now reversed
By strange metempsychosis,
Into a cabbage I have burst
And scorn poetic posies;
But you a lark with twinkling wings
O’er violet-banks are soaring;
Your voice the dewy rose-cloud rings
While Statics me are boring.
Yet cabbage as I will—on earth
My roots I cannot anchor,
For at my mathematic birth
Was also born a canker!
It soon will gnaw my roots away-—
But when I weigh a chœnix
I’ll freely soar to realms of day
An emerald cabbage-Phœnix.
Then talk not of the Poll to me,
I hate, detest, and scorn it;
I am as earnest as a bee,
But savage as a hornet.
And if they pluck me I will drown
Each pedant in a sonnet,
And of their pluckings make a crown
With golden plumes upon it.
So if my cabbage growth be slow
I'll try to be a carrot,
Or still remain a lark—but know
I'll not be Poll, or Parrot.
Then if I fall beneath the mark,
I’ll shout with accent savage,
"It is a lark to be a lark,
’Tis green to be a cabbage"
poem by James Clerk Maxwell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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How far would have Moses gone if he had taken a poll in Egypt?
quote by Harry Truman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A public-opinion poll is no substitute for thought.
quote by Warren Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Voice Of Beauty Drowned
'Cry from the thicket my heart's bird!'
The other birds woke all around;
Rising with toot and howl they stirred
Their plumage, broke the trembling sound,
They craned their necks, they fluttered wings,
'While we are silent no one sings,
And while we sing you hush your throat,
Or tune your melody to our note.'
'Cry from the thicket my heart's bird!'
The screams and hootings rose again:
They gaped with raucous beaks, they whirred
Their noisy plumage; small but plain
The lonely hidden singer made
A well of grief within the glade.
'Whist, silly fool, be off,' they shout,
'Or we'll come pluck your feathers out.'
'Cry from the thicket my heart's bird!'
Slight and small the lovely cry
Came trickling down, but no one heard;
Parrot and cuckoo, crow, magpie,
Jarred horrid notes, the jangling jay
Ripped the fine threads of song away;
For why should peeping chick aspire
To challenge their loud woodland choir?
Cried it so sweet, that unseen bird?
Lovelier could no music be,
Clearer than water, soft as curd,
Fresh as the blossomed cherry tree.
How sang the others all around?
Piercing and harsh, a maddening sound,
With 'Pretty Poll, Tuwit-tuwoo
Peewit, Caw Caw, Cuckoo-Cuckoo.'
How went the song, how looked the bird?
If I could tell, if I could show
With one quick phrase, one lightning word,
I'd learn you more than poets know;
For poets, could they only catch
Of that forgotten tune one snatch,
Would build it up in song or sonnet,
And found their whole life's fame upon it.
poem by Robert Graves
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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If Rosa Parks had taken a poll before she sat down in the bus in Montgomery, she'd still be standing.
quote by Mary Frances Berry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Mimic Harlequin
'I'll make believe, and fancy something strange:
I will suppose I have the power to change
And make all things unlike to what they were,
To jump through windows and fly through the air,
And quite confound all places and all times,
Like harlequins we see in pantomimes.
These thread-papers my wooden sword must be,
Nothing more like one I at present see.
And now all round this drawing-room I'll range,
And every thing I look at I will change.
Here's Mopsa, our old cat, shall be a bird;
To a Poll parrot she is now transferred.
Here's mamma's work-bag, now I will engage
To whisk this little bag into a cage;
And now, my pretty parrot, get you in it,
Another change I'll show you in a minute.'
'O fie, you naughty child, what have you done?
There never was so mischievous a son.
You've put the cat among my work, and torn
A fine laced cap that I but once have worn.'
poem by Charles Lamb
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When you poll all of the economists, uh, across America that I think are intellectually honest they would all, or maybe not all, but 95% of them 96% of them would say you know we really have got a powerful economy.
quote by Donald Evans
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think the record speaks for itself. These are two individuals who have been for the war when the headlines were good and against it when their poll ratings were bad.
quote by Dick Cheney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A poll earlier this year showed that 42 per cent of Americans believe we're in the End Times.
quote by Andrew Denton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sweet William's Farewell to Black-ey'd Susan: A Ballad
1 All in the Downs the fleet was moor'd,
2 The streamers waving in the wind,
3 When black-ey'd Susan came aboard.
4 Oh! where shall I my true love find!
5 Tell me, ye jovial sailors, tell me true,
6 If my sweet William sails among the crew.
7 William, who high upon the yard,
8 Rock'd with the billow to and fro,
9 Soon as her well-known voice he heard,
10 He sigh'd, and cast his eyes below:
11 The cord slides swiftly through his glowing hands,
12 And, (quick as lightning) on the deck he stands.
13 So the sweet lark, high pois'd in air,
14 Shuts close his pinions to his breast,
15 (If, chance, his mate's shrill call he hear)
16 And drops at once into her nest.
17 The noblest captain in the British fleet,
18 Might envy William's lip those kisses sweet.
19 'O Susan, Susan, lovely dear,
20 My vows shall ever true remain;
21 Let me kiss off that falling tear,
22 We only part to meet again.
23 Change, as ye list, ye winds; my heart shall be
24 The faithful compass that still points to thee.
25 'Believe not what the landmen say,
26 Who tempt with doubts thy constant mind:
27 They'll tell thee, sailors, when away,
28 In ev'ry port a mistress find.
29 Yes, yes, believe them when they tell thee so,
30 For thou art present wheresoe'er I go.
31 'If to far India's coast we sail,
32 Thy eyes are seen in di'monds bright,
33 Thy breath is Afric's spicy gale,
34 Thy skin is ivory, so white.
35 Thus ev'ry beauteous object that I view,
36 Wakes in my soul some charm of lovely Sue.
37 'Though battle call me from thy arms
38 Let not my pretty Susan mourn;
39 Though cannons roar, yet safe from harms,
40 William shall to his dear return.
41 Love turns aside the balls that round me fly,
42 Lest precious tears should drop from Susan's eye'.
43 The boatswain gave the dreadful word,
44 The sails their swelling bosom spread,
45 No longer must she stay aboard:
46 They kiss'd, she sigh'd, he hung his head.
47 Her less'ning boat, unwilling rows to land:
48 'Adieu', she cries! and wav'd her lily hand.
I don't think the Gallup Poll technique is going to be very helpful in determining the goals of our educational system.
quote by Sargent Shriver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Perhaps most ridiculous of all is the suggestion that we 'keep' our radioactive garbage for the use of our descendants. This 'solution', I think, requires an immediate poll of the next 20,000 generations.
quote by David R. Brower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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