King Goodheart
There lived a King, as I've been told
In the wonder-working days of old,
When hearts were twice as good as gold,
And twenty times as mellow.
Good temper triumphed in his face,
And in his heart he found a place
For all the erring human race
And every wretched fellow.
When he had Rhenish wine to drink
It made him very sad to think
That some, at junket or at jink,
Must be content with toddy:
He wished all men as rich as he
(And he was rich as rich could be),
So to the top of every tree
Promoted everybody.
Ambassadors cropped up like hay,
Prime Ministers and such as they
Grew like asparagus in May,
And Dukes were three a penny:
Lord Chancellors were cheap as sprats,
And Bishops in their shovel hats
Were plentiful as tabby cats -
If possible, too many.
On every side Field-Marshals gleamed,
Small beer were Lords-Lieutenants deemed,
With Admirals the ocean teemed,
All round his wide dominions;
And Party Leaders you might meet
In twos and threes in every street
Maintaining, with no little heat,
Their various opinions.
That King, although no one denies,
His heart was of abnormal size,
Yet he'd have acted otherwise
If he had been acuter.
The end is easily foretold,
When every blessed thing you hold
Is made of silver, or of gold,
You long for simple pewter.
When you have nothing else to wear
But cloth of gold and satins rare,
For cloth of gold you cease to care -
Up goes the price of shoddy:
In short, whoever you may be,
To this conclusion you'll agree,
When every one is somebody,
Then no one's anybody!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Related quotes
Silver And Gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver & Gold
Words and Music by Johnny Marks.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Ev'ryone wishes for silver and gold
How do you measure its worth?
Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.
Silver and gold, silver and gold
Mean so much more when I see
Silver and gold decorations
On ev'ry Christmas tree.
Silver, silver and gold
Silver, silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Silver and gold
Wise men brought gifts to the mange I'm told
Mary was humble to see
Shepherds and kings there on bended knees
It's silver and gold, silver and gold
Feeling the world with their lives
Silver and gold how they shimmer on ev'ry Christmas night
On ev'ry Christmas night
Silver, silver and gold
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gold Rush
In 1848, James Wilson Marshall struck gold in California
and the gold rush was on.
Men saw nothing but shiny metal
twinkling in their eyes.
None thought of the dangers
that might well lie ahead.
Along with the good
also came the bad.
Gold fever was striking everyone,
every man and woman
wanted to get there
as fast as they could
to stake a claim
and be rich overnight.
At times, it seemed a nation
became addicted to the smell of gold.
Some got rich and others didn’t,
some lived through it
and others died before it was over.
All of them had one thing on their mind.
The mother load was somewhere
and they intended it to find
back in 1848
during the gold rush days.
5 February 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Get Rich
Columbus sailed the ocean blue
To see what he would fine
With visions of another world
They said he'd lost his mind
But when he told them of the land he'd found
A land so rich with gold
To get the treasures on the other side
They left the lad of old to
(Chorus)
Get rich now
Get rich now
Get rich now
Get rich now
Napoleon thought that he could be
The ruler of it all
The things he wanted were so very big
But he was very small
They spread the word throughout the land
That he would soon be king
But his greed and pride got in the way
And he lost everything to
(Chorus)
Oh the president and the generals
Are getting ready for a war
The only thing that they don't know
Is what they're fighting for
They shine their suits of armor
And they tell us to prepare
While they take wealth and freedom
And just leave us standing there
Get rich now
song performed by by Kansas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gold And Silver
Gold and silver has always been sought.
But to some it's just a thought.
They don't think of it
and they don't know
how it shines and how it does glow.
The jewelry they wear turns their skin green.
Then they scrub it to make it come clean.
And what does this say about the fairness of things?
Some with nothing and some with gold rings.
It says there's division between rich and poor.
It says the rich have made a detour
to avoid facing the fact that it's wrong.
And it says to the poor, 'You don't belong.'
Gold and silver, you belong to the earth
but they've stripped you of it for its worth.
When we finally learn the lessons we need
we'll put back your metals so you won't bleed.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Girl With The Heart Of Gold
Night and day, day and night
I do my best to do things right
Never meant to ever hurt nobody
And if I should in some small way
Ever rain on your parade
I will make it up to you I promise
Ever since I met that girl
Theres no one else in the whole wide world
Said shed stay and be with me forever
Mysteries have long been told
About the girl with the heart of gold
And you know I think that I have found her
Chorus
Because every time she looks my way
I lose control, what can I say
Shes everything Ive ever been after, oh,
I found the girl with the heart of gold
I found the girl with the heart of gold
I found the girl with the heart of gold
I found the girl with the heart of gold
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poor Mans Roses Or A Rich Mans Gold
(milton delugg, bob hilliard)
I must make up my mind today
What to have what to hold
A poor mans roses
Or a rich mans gold
Ones as wealthy as a king in a palace
Though hes calice and cold
He may learn to give his heart for love
Instead of buying it with gold
Then the poor mans roses
And the thrill when we kiss
Will be memories of paradise
That Ill never miss
And yet the hand that brings a rose tonight
Is the hand that I will hold
For the rose of love means more to me
More than any rich mans gold
Repeat verses #3 and #4
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pocket Full Of Gold
He slipped the ring off his finger
When he walked in the room
And he found him some stranger
And promised her the moon
How many lies you must have told
You think youre a rich man
With your pocket full of gold
For another mans treasure
Youd say anything
But is one night of pleasure
Worth the trouble youll bring
Dont look so surprised
cause son I should know
I once was a rich man
With my pocket full of gold
Some night youre gonna wind up
On the wrong end of a gun
Some jealous guys gonna show up
And youll pay for what youve done
What will it say on your tombstone
Here lies a rich man
With his pocket full of gold
Yeah, here lies a rich man
With his pocket full of gold
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Heir Of Lynne
Of all the lords in faire Scotland
A song I will begin:
Amongst them all dwelled a lord
Which was the unthrifty Lord of Lynne.
His father and mother were dead him froe,
And so was the head of all his kinne;
He did neither cease nor blinne
To the cards and dice that he did run.
To drinke the wine that was so cleere!
With every man he would make merry.
And then bespake him John of the Scales,
Unto the heire of Lynne say'd hee,
Sayes 'how dost thou, Lord of Lynne,
Doest either want gold or fee?
Wilt thou not sell thy land so brode
To such a good fellow as me?
'For . . I . . ' he said,
'My land, take it unto thee;
I draw you to record, my lords all;'
With that he cast him a Gods pennie.
He told him the gold upon the bord,
It wanted never a bare penny.
'That gold is thine, the land is mine,
The heire of Lynne I will bee.'
'Heeres gold enough,' saithe the heire of Lynne,
'Both for me and my company.'
He drunke the wine that was so cleere,
And with every man he made merry.
Within three quarters of a yeare
His gold and fee it waxed thinne,
His merry men were from him gone,
And left himselfe all alone.
He had never a penny left in his purse,
Never a penny but three,
And one was brasse and another was lead
And another was white mony.
'Now well-a-day!' said the heire of Lynne,
'Now well-a-day, and woe is mee!
For when I was the Lord of Lynne,
I neither wanted gold nor fee;
'For I have sold my lands so broad,
And have not left me one penny!
I must go now and take some read
Unto Edenborrow and beg my bread.'
He had not beene in Edenborrow
Nor three quarters of a yeare,
But some did give him and some said nay,
And some bid 'to the deele gang yee!
'For if we should hang some land selfeer,
The first we would begin with thee.'
'Now well-a-day!' said the heire of Lynne,
'Now well-a-day, and woe is mee!
'For now I have sold my lands so broad
That merry man is irke with mee;
But when that I was the Lord of Lynne
Then on my land I lived merrily;
'And now I have sold my land so broade
That I have not left me one pennye!
God be with my father!' he said,
'On his land he lived merrily.'
Still in a study there as he stood,
He unbethought him of a bill,
He unbethought him of a bill
Which his father had left with him.
Bade him he should never on it looke
Till he was in extreame neede,
'And by my faith,' said the heire of Lynne,
'Then now I had never more neede.'
He tooke the bill and looked it on,
Good comfort that he found there;
It told him of a castle wall
Where there stood three chests in feare:
Two were full of the beaten gold,
The third was full of white money.
He turned then downe his bags of bread
And filled them full of gold so red.
Then he did never cease nor blinne
Till John of the Scales house he did winne.
When that he came John of the Scales,
Up at the speere he looked then;
There sate three lords upon a rowe,
And John o' the Scales sate at the bord's head,
And John o' the Scales sate at the bord's head
Because he was the lord of Lynne.
And then bespake the heire of Lynne
To John o' the Scales wife thus sayd hee,
Sayd 'Dame, wilt thou not trust me one shott
That I may sit downe in this company?'
'Now Christ's curse on my head,' she said,
'If I do trust thee one pennye,'
Then bespake a good fellowe,
Which sate by John o' the Scales his knee,
Said 'have thou here, thou heire of Lynne,
Forty-pence I will lend thee,--
Some time a good fellow thou hast beene
And other forty if it need bee.'
They drunken wine that was so cleere,
And every man they made merry,
And then bespake him John o' the Scales
Unto the Lord of Lynne said hee;
Said 'how doest thou heire of Lynne,
Since I did buy thy lands of thee?
I will sell it to thee twenty better cheepe,
Nor ever did I buy it of thee.'
'I draw you to recorde, lords all:'
With that he cast him god's penny;
Then he tooke to his bags of bread,
And they were full of the gold so red.
He told him the gold then over the borde
It wanted never a broad pennye;
'That gold is thine, the land is mine,
And the heire of Lynne againe I will bee.'
'Now well-a-day!' said John o' the Scales' wife,
'Well-a-day, and woe is me!
Yesterday I was the lady of Lynne,
And now I am but John o' the Scales wife!'
Says 'have thou here, thou good fellow,
Forty pence thou did lend me;
Forty pence thou did lend me,
And forty I will give thee,
I'll make thee keeper of my forrest,
Both of the wild deere and the tame.'
But then bespake the heire of Lynne,
These were the words and thus spake hee,
'Christ's curse light upon my crowne
If ere my land stand in any jeopardye!'
poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blue, Brown and Gold
Blue, brown and gold, bold, I'll unfold
a portrait drawn upon a train
one summer morn which shall remain
for heart to hold if truth be told.
Brown, gold and blue she sat, smiled too,
to me it seemed true beauty gleamed, -
my spirit teemed with hopes that, teamed,
we'd share love through fair seasons new.
Blue, gold and brown without a frown
she journeyed on, too soon was gone, -
yet still upon my soul she shone.
Brown bag, blue gown, - Life's golden crown!
Blue, brown and gold, cannot grow [c]old
Year in year out their tale is told...
poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Eve of Crecy
Gold on her head, and gold on her feet,
And gold where the hems of her kirtle meet,
And a golden girdle round my sweet;
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
Margaret's maids are fair to see,
Freshly dress'd and pleasantly;
Margaret's hair falls down to her knee;
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
If I were rich I would kiss her feet;
I would kiss the place where the gold hems meet,
And the golden kirtle round my sweet:
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
Ah me! I have never touch'd her hand;
When the arrière-ban goes through the land,
Six basnets under my pennon stand;
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
And many an one grins under his hood:
Sir Lambert du Bois, with all his men good,
Has neither food nor firewood;
Ah! qu'elle est belle la Marguerite.
If I were rich I would kiss her feet,
And the golden girdle of my sweet,
And thereabouts where the gold hems meet;
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
Yet even now it is good to think,
While my few poor varlets grumble and drink
In my desolate hall, where the fires sink,--
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite,--
Of Margaret sitting glorious there,
In glory of gold and glory of hair,
And glory of glorious face most fair;
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
Likewise to-night I make good cheer,
Because this battle draweth near:
For what have I to lose or fear?
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
For, look you, my horse is good to prance
A right fair measure in this war-dance,
Before the eyes of Philip of France;
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
And sometime it may hap, perdie,
While my new towers stand up three and three,
And my hall gets painted fair to see--
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite--
That folks may say: Times change, by the rood,
For Lambert, banneret of the wood,
Has heaps of food and firewood;
Ah! qu'elle est belle La Marguerite.
poem by William Morris
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Be So Boy
The riches I emerge with are strange so cold,
Innocent gold! Higher wealth is around that is told.
A rich man hurried towards his house
Finding a woman called his wife with a white blouse.
The rich life has arrived for all the luck,
Melting far away, just far too far like muck.
The gambler is to be, a corpulent man
Shall pain the hurt, the sane man is in Afghanistan.
How rich will life be now that gold is not silver?
Silver is like a snake, whilst gold shines so quieter.
My wife likes new clothes and new food
In the realm of our understanding, our attitude.
You shall blame the innocence of tense muscles,
You shall climb new veins with blood and angels.
May life enjoy, feel too much a toy,
And then let Winston Churchill be so boy.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The Golden Wedding Of Sterling And Sarah Lanier, September 27, 1868.
By the Eldest Grandson.
A rainbow span of fifty years,
Painted upon a cloud of tears,
In blue for hopes and red for fears,
Finds end in a golden hour to-day.
Ah, YOU to our childhood the legend told,
'At the end of the rainbow lies the gold,'
And now in our thrilling hearts we hold
The gold that never will pass away.
Gold crushed from the quartz of a crystal life,
Gold hammered with blows of human strife,
Gold burnt in the love of man and wife,
Till it is pure as the very flame:
Gold that the miser will not have,
Gold that is good beyond the grave,
Gold that the patient and the brave
Amass, neglecting praise and blame.
O golden hour that caps the time
Since, heart to heart like rhyme to rhyme,
You stood and listened to the chime
Of inner bells by spirits rung,
That tinkled many a secret sweet
Concerning how two souls should meet,
And whispered of Time's flying feet
With a most piquant silver tongue.
O golden day, -- a golden crown
For the kingly heads that bowed not down
To win a smile or 'scape a frown,
Except the smile and frown of Heaven!
Dear heads, still dark with raven hair;
Dear hearts, still white in spite of care;
Dear eyes, still black and bright and fair
As any eyes to mortals given!
Old parents of a restless race,
You miss full many a bonny face
That would have smiled a filial grace
Around your Golden Wedding wine.
But God is good and God is great.
His will be done, if soon or late.
Your dead stand happy in yon Gate
And call you blessed while they shine.
So, drop the tear and dry the eyes.
Your rainbow glitters in the skies.
Here's golden wine: young, old, arise:
With cups as full as our souls, we say:
'Two Hearts, that wrought with smiles through tears
This rainbow span of fifty years,
Behold how true, true love appears
True gold for your Golden Wedding day!'
poem by Sidney Lanier
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Got That Feeling
Got that feeling
Luck is a little of it
I got that feeling
I cant stop winning
A to z
Look what youre missing
As we speak
Your numbers rising
Take a peak
Theres just enough to go around
Get a piece
Your own little piece of hell
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Got that feeling
Loving every minute of it
Got that feeling
I cant stop winning
Stop winning
Have a drink
A pot of coffee
Cannot think
To many friends here
Just an inch between striking out and striking rich
If thats the risk, why not take it, take it, take it
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Get it, get it, get it, get it, get it, get your gold
Got that feeling
Loving every minute of it
Got that feeling
I cant stop winning
And start living
Start winning
Start living
You cant borrow, tomorrow
song performed by by Faith No More
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Is To Come
What is to come we know not. But we know
That what has been was good--was good to show,
Better to hide, and best of all to bear.
We are the masters of the days that were:
We have lived, we have loved, we have suffered . . . even so.
Shall we not take the ebb who had the flow?
Life was our friend. Now, if it be our foe -
Dear, though it spoil and break us!--need we care
What is to come?
Let the great winds their worst and wildest blow,
Or the gold weather round us mellow slow:
We have fulfilled ourselves, and we can dare
And we can conquer, though we may not share
In the rich quiet of the afterglow
What is to come.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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You Remind Me Of Gold
Baby, when I think about you
And thats when I think
I think about gold
You remind me of gold
And when I see the sunrise in the sky
And when I hear your brakes come squealing by
I forget
Everything Ive been told
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
Baby I always think about you
I think of the life and glory you hold
You remind me of gold
And even though there was no sun today
And though you are a thousand miles away
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
You remind me of gold
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Judgment
With beating heart and lagging feet,
Lord, I approach the Judgment-seat.
All bring hither the fruits of toil,
Measures of wheat and measures of oil;
Gold and jewels and precious wine;
No hands bare like these hands of mine.
The treasure I have nor weighs nor gleams:
Lord, I can bring you only dreams.
In days of spring, when my blood ran high,
I lay in the grass and looked at the sky,
And dreamed that my love lay by my side--
My love was false, and then she died.
All the heat of the summer through,
I dreamed she lived, that her heart was true
Throughout the hours of the day I slept,
But woke in the night, at times, and wept.
The nights and days, they went and came,
I lay in shadow and dreamed of fame;
And heard men passing the lonely place,
Who marked me not and my hidden face.
My strength waxed faint, my hair grew grey;
Nothing but dreams by night and day.
Some men sicken, with wine and food;
I starved on dreams, and found them good.
* * * * * * *
This is the tale I have to tell--
Show the fellow the way to hell.
Our Time Is Coming
(kix brooks/ronnie dunn)
Times are hard and the moneys tight
Day to day we fight the fight
Nothing new, the same old grind
Uphill all the way
Boss man says forget the raise
Preacher says to keep the faith
Good things come to those who wait
Tomorrows another day
Our time is coming
Where or when the good lord only knows
Our time is coming
When this road were on will turn to the street of gold
As long as we keep love alive
Something tells me well survive
Its the little things thatll get us by
And hold us together
I feel it when you hold me close
Baby we got more than most
Steady through the highs and lows
Well go on forever
Our time is coming
Where or when the good lord only knows
Our time is coming
When this road were on will turn to the street of gold
Our time is coming
Where or when the good lord only knows
Our time is coming
When this road were on will turn to the street of gold
When this road were on will turn to the street of gold
song performed by by Wade Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It was given to me by the Gods
454
It was given to me by the Gods—
When I was a little Girl—
They given us Presents most—you know—
When we are new—and small.
I kept it in my Hand—
I never put it down—
I did not dare to eat—or sleep—
For fear it would be gone—
I heard such words as "Rich"—
When hurrying to school—
From lips at Corners of the Streets—
And wrestled with a smile.
Rich! 'Twas Myself—was rich—
To take the name of Gold—
And Gold to own—in solid Bars—
The Difference—made me bold—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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The King's Daughter
WE WERE ten maidens in the green corn,
Small red leaves in the mill-water:
Fairer maidens never were born,
Apples of gold for the king’s daughter.
We were ten maidens by a well-head,
Small white birds in the mill-water:
Sweeter maidens never were wed,
Rings of red for the king’s daughter.
The first to spin, the second to sing,
Seeds of wheat in the mill-water;
The third may was a goodly thing,
White bread and brown for the king’s daughter.
The fourth to sew and the fifth to play,
Fair green weed in the mill-water;
The sixth may was a goodly may,
White wine and red for the king’s daughter.
The seventh to woo, the eighth to wed,
Fair thin reeds in the mill-water;
The ninth had gold work on her head,
Honey in the comb for the king’s daughter.
The ninth had gold work round her hair,
Fallen flowers in the mill-water;
The tenth may was goodly and fair,
Golden gloves for the king’s daughter.
We were ten maidens in a field green,
Fallen fruit in the mill-water;
Fairer maidens never have been,
Golden sleeves for the king’s daughter.
By there comes the king’s young son,
A little wind in the mill-water;
“Out of ten maidens ye’ll grant me one,”
A crown of red for the king’s daughter.
“Out of ten mays ye’ll give me the best,”
A little rain in the mill-water;
A bed of yellow straw for all the rest,
A bed of gold for the king’s daughter.
He’s ta’en out the goodliest,
Rain that rains in the mill-water;
A comb of yellow shell for all the rest,
A comb of gold for the king’s daughter.
He’s made her bed to the goodliest,
Wind and hail in the mill-water;
A grass girdle for all the rest,
A girdle of arms for the king’s daughter.
He’s set his heart to the goodliest,
Snow that snows in the mill-water;
Nine little kisses for all the rest,
An hundredfold for the king’s daughter.
He’s ta’en his leave at the goodliest,
Broken boats in the mill-water;
Golden gifts for all the rest,
Sorrow of heart for the king’s daughter.
“Ye’ll make a grave for my fair body,”
Running rain in the mill-water;
“And ye’ll streek my brother at the side of me,”
The pains of hell for the king’s daughter.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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