From the Rude Bustling Camp
From the rude bustling camp, to the calm rural plain,
I'm come, my dear Jeanie, to bless thee again;
Still burning for honour our warriors may roam,
But the laurel I wish'd for I've won it at home:
All the glories of conquest no joy could impart,
When far from the kind little girl of my heart
Now, safely return'd, I will leave thee no more
But love my dear Jeannie till life's latest hour.
The sweets of retirement how pleasing to me!
Possessing all worth, my dear Jeanie, in thee !
Our flocks early bleating will make us to joy,
And our raptures exceed the warm tints in the sky;
In sweet rural pastimes our days still will glide,
Till Time, looking back, will admire at* his speed;
Still blooming in virtue, though youth them be o'er,
I'll love my dear Jeanie till life's latest hour.
poem by Robert Tannahill
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Related quotes
Sitting In The Palmtree
See me sitting in the palmtree
Looking down at people passing by
Sitting here no-one can harm me
They just stare at me and wonder why
No need to bother, Im gonna stay up here
Whatever happens, I wont let no-one near
Until you tell me, jeanie jeanie on my mind, wont you please
You really love me, jeanie jeanie youre so fine, yes you are now
And in the evening, when the sun goes down
Ill be the bluest of men in this town
cause I love you, jeanie jeanie on my mind
See me sitting in the palmtree
Waiting for those little words from you
People laugh and point their fingers
Like I was a monkey at the zoo
But I will stay here, among my coconuts
So you will know dear, youre everything Ive got
Now wont you tell me, jeanie jeanie on my mind
Winds blow, stars glow, I see a light in a window
Dark trees, soft breeze, carry my message to her please
See me sitting in the palmtree
Feeling angry at the silly crowd
No-one else but you can calm me
You should know by now Im far too proud
I need to show you, Ive got my feelings too
You shouldnt treat me like you always do
So wont you tell me, jeanie jeanie on my mind, wont you please
You really love me, jeanie jeanie youre so fine, yes you are now
And in the evening, when the sun goes down
Ill be the bluest of men in this town
cause I love you, jeanie jeanie on my mind
Jeanie jeanie youre so fine
Jeanie jeanie on my mind
Jeanie jeanie youre so fine
Jeanie jeanie on my mind
Jeanie jeanie youre so fine
(fade)
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Catch Me If You Can
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Do ya, do ya really wanna try, ohh my...
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Do ya, do ya really wanna try, my, my, my...
Sweet magicians daughter, weaving spells my way
You know I want to be with you, but magic words are all you say
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Do ya, do ya really wanna try, my, my...
Merlins magic daughter, I know thats what you are
Im playing magic games with you, its easier to guide a star
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Do ya, do ya really wanna try, my...woo
Magic lady waiting, your palace walls are tall
I can wait forever, but Im climbing up the palace wall
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Do ya, do ya really wanna try, ohhh, my, my, my, my...
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Jean, jean, jeanie, catch me if you can
Do ya, do ya really wanna try, my...
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bonie Jean: A Ballad
To its ain tune.
There was a lass, and she was fair,
At kirk or market to be seen;
When a’ our fairest maids were met,
The fairest maid was bonie Jean.
And aye she wrought her mammie’s wark,
And aye she sang sae merrilie;
The blythest bird upon the bush
Had ne’er a lighter heart than she.
But hawks will rob the tender joys
That bless the little lintwhite’s nest;
And frost will blight the fairest flowers,
And love will break the soundest rest.
Young Robie was the brawest lad,
The flower and pride of a’ the glen;
And he had owsen, sheep, and kye,
And wanton naigies nine or ten.
He gaed wi’ Jeanie to the tryste,
He danc’d wi’ Jeanie on the down;
And, lang ere witless Jeanie wist,
Her heart was tint, her peace was stown!
As in the bosom of the stream,
The moon-beam dwells at dewy e’en;
So trembling, pure, was tender love
Within the breast of bonie Jean.
And now she works her mammie’s wark,
And aye she sighs wi’ care and pain;
Yet wist na what her ail might be,
Or what wad make her weel again.
But did na Jeanie’s heart loup light,
And didna joy blink in her e’e,
As Robie tauld a tale o’ love
Ae e’ening on the lily lea?
The sun was sinking in the west,
The birds sang sweet in ilka grove;
His cheek to hers he fondly laid,
And whisper’d thus his tale o’ love:
“O Jeanie fair, I lo’e thee dear;
O canst thou think to fancy me,
Or wilt thou leave thy mammie’s cot,
And learn to tent the farms wi’ me?
“At barn or byre thou shalt na drudge,
Or naething else to trouble thee;
But stray amang the heather-bells,
And tent the waving corn wi’ me.”
Now what could artless Jeanie do?
She had nae will to say him na:
At length she blush’d a sweet consent,
And love was aye between them twa.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Woman’s Sonnets: XII
'Tis ended truly, truly as was best.
Love is a little thing, for one short day;
You could not make it your life's only quest,
Nor watch the poor corpse long in its decay.
Go forth, dear, thou hast much to do on earth;
In life's campaign there waits thee a great part,
Much to be won and conquered of more worth
Than this poor victory of a woman's heart.
For me the daylight of my years is dim.
I seek not gladness, yet shall find content
In such small duties as are learned of Him
Who bore all sorrows, till my youth is spent.
Yet come what may to me of weal or woe,
I love thee, bless thee, dear, where'er thou go.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Oh, My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose
O my luve is like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
My love is like the melodie
That's sweetly played in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonny lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun;
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only love!
And fare thee weel, awhile!
And I will come again, my love
Though it were ten thousand mile.
poem by Robert Burns
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Red, Red Rose
O my Luve's like a red, red rose
That's newly sprung in June;
O my Luve's like the melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry:
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run.
And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho' it were ten thousand mile.
poem by Robert Burns
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Fill A Bumper of Water
Fill a bumper of water that's pure from the spring,
Bright sparkling and clear as the glass,
And with rapture the joyous emotions we'll sing,
Which enliven our hours as they pass
We'll spurn the rude mirth of the wine-bibber's bowl,
While our Abstinence pleasures exceed it,
And we give you the Pledge with our heart and our soul,
Here's success to the cause and God speed it,
God speed it-God speed it,
Here's success to the Pledge, and God speed it.
Surrounded by virtue, by beauty, and youth,
Dear woman we drink to thy charms;
If we pledge thee in water, we pledge thee in truth
And we take thee with joy to our arms.
Go look at our homes and observe the glad smile,
What welcome on earth can exceed it,
Where affection thus greets us our cares to beguile,
Then success to the Pledge, and God speed it,
God speed it-God speed it,
Success to the Pledge and God speed it.
Tho' we boast not of wealth yet we gladly impart
To a brother a share of our store,
And we hail him with feelings of joy from the heart,
When the slave of Intemperance no more;
Our motto is sympathy, friendship and love,
And aid to a friend should he need it,
Our Charter's recorded by Angels above,
Then success to the Pledge and God speed it,
God speed it-God speed it,
Success to the Pledge and God speed it.
poem by John Pierpont
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Dear Motherland Of France
DEDICATED TO THE MEN AND WOMEN OF FRANCE
Our Motherland, dear Motherland,
The source of beauty and of Art,
Who but thy children understand
The love which permeates each heart!
We see, through rainbow-tints of tears,
Thy glory of a thousand years.
O country of the Great and Free,
We live for thee, we live for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
O Motherland, both blithe and brave,
What magic lies in thy name-France!
Yet can thy radiant mien be grave,
And stern thy ever-smiling glance.
And when thy sons and daughters know
That enemies would lay thee low
And dim thy fame on land and sea,
We fight for thee, we fight for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
Dear Motherland of joy and mirth,
Dear Motherland of faith divine,
A thousand years the wondering earth
Has seen thy star in splendour shine.
Still shall it see that star of France
Its splendour and its light enhance.
Dear Motherland, when it need be
We die for thee, we die for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Young May Moon
The young May moon is beaming, love.
The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love.
How sweet to rove,
Through Morna's grove,
When the drowsy world is dreaming, love!
Then awake! -- the heavens look bright, my dear,
'Tis never too late for delight, my dear,
And the best of all ways
To lengthen our days
Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!
Now all the world is sleeping, love,
But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love,
And I, whose star,
More glorious far,
Is the eye from that casement peeping, love.
Then awake! -- till rise of sun, my dear,
The Sage's glass we'll shun, my dear,
Or, in watching the flight
Of bodies of light,
He might happen to take thee for one, my dear.
poem by Thomas Moore
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Just A Closer Walk With Thee
I am weak but Thou art strong
Jesus keep me from all wrong
I'll be satisfied as long as I walk
Dear Lord, close to Thee.
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus, is my plea
Daily walkin' close to Thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.
Through this world of toils and snares
If I falter Lord, who cares?
Who with me my burden shares?
None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee.
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus, is my plea
Daily walkin' close to Thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.
When my feeble life is o'er
And time for me will be no more
Guide me gently, safely o'er
To Thy kingdom dear Lord, to Thy shore.
Just a closer walk with Thee
Grant it Jesus, is my plea
Daily walkin' close to Thee
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.
--- Instrumental to fade ---
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One More Kiss Dear
One more kiss, dear
One more sigh
Only this, dear
Its goodbye
For our love is such pain
And such pleasure
And Ill treasure till I die
So for now, dear
Aurevoir, madame
But Im how-dye, not farewell
For in time we may have a loves glory
Our love story to tell
Just as every autumn
Leaves fall from the tree
Tumble to the ground and die
So in the springtime
Like sweet memories
They will return as will i
Like the sun, dear
Upon high
Well return, dear
To the sky
And well banish the pain and the sorrow
Until tomorrow goodbye
One more kiss, dear
One more sigh
Only this, dear
Is goodbye
For our love is such passion
And such pleasure
And Ill treasure till I die
Like the sun, dear
Upon high
Well return, dear
To the sky
And well banish the pain and the sorrow
Until tomorrow goodbye
song performed by by Vangelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Remember Thee!
Remember thee! yes, while there's life in this heart,
It shall never forget thee, all lorn as thou art;
More dear in thy sorrow, thy gloom, and thy showers,
Than the rest of the world in their sunniest hours.
Wert thou all that I wish thee, great, glorious, and free,
First flower of the earth, and first gem of the sea,
I might hail thee with prouder, with happier brow,
But oh! could I love thee more deeply tha now?
No, thy chains as they rankle, thy blood as it runs,
But make thee more painfully dear to thy sons --
Whose hearts, like the young of the desert-bird's nest,
Drink love in each life-drop that flows from thy breast.
poem by Thomas Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Song. To A Russian Air
WAS it for this I dearly loved thee?....
But since at length I know thy heart,
And learn no real passion moved thee,
Go, Henry, go; this hour we part.
But do not think, past love forgetting,
That I thy foe can ever be;
My blighted hopes howe'er regretting,
I still shall pray for bliss to thee.
I still, no wrongs from thee resenting,
Shall wish Love's choicest treasures thine;
Though till life's closing sigh lamenting
The power to bless thee was not mine .
poem by Amelia Opie
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I Leave Thee for Awhile
I leave thee for awhile, my love, I leave thee with a sigh;
The fountain spring within my soul is playing in mine eye;
I do not blush to own the tear,--let, let it touch my cheek,
And what my lip has failed to tell, that drop perchance may speak.
Mavourneen! when again I seek my green isle in the West,
Oh, promise thou wilt share my lot, and set this heart at rest.
I leave thee for awhile, my love; but every hour will be
Uncheered and lonely till the one that brings me back to thee.
I go to make my riches more; but where is man to find
A vein of gold so rich and pure as that I leave behind?
Mavourneen! though my home might be the fairest earth possessed,
Till thou wouldst share and make it warm, this heart would know no rest.
I leave thee for awhile, my love; my cheek is cold and white,
But ah, I see a promise stand within thy glance of light;
When next I seek old, Erin's shore, thy step will bless it too,
And then the grass will seem more green, the sky will have more blue.
Mavourneen! first and dearest loved, there's sunshine in my breast,
For thou wilt share my future lot, and set this heart at rest.
poem by Eliza Cook
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Song From Torrismond
How many times do I love thee, dear?
Tell me how many thoughts there be
In the atmosphere
Of a new-fall'n year,
Whose white and sable hours appear
The latest flake of Eternity:
So many times do I love thee, dear.
How many times do I love again?
Tell me how many beads there are
In a silver chain
Of evening rain,
Unravelled from the tumbling main,
And threading the eye of a yellow star:
So many times do I love again.
poem by Thomas Lovell Beddoes
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I Love Thee
I love thee—I love thee!
'Tis all that I can say;—
It is my vision in the night,
My dreaming in the day;
The very echo of my heart,
The blessing when I pray:
I love thee—I love thee!
Is all that I can say.
I love thee—I love thee!
Is ever on my tongue;
In all my proudest poesy
That chorus still is sung;
It is the verdict of my eyes,
Amidst the gay and young:
I love thee—I love thee!
A thousand maids among.
I love thee—I love thee!
Thy bright hazel glance,
The mellow lute upon those lips,
Whose tender tones entrance;
But most, dear heart of hearts, thy proofs
That still these words enhance,
I love thee—I love thee!
Whatever be thy chance.
poem by Thomas Hood
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Hymn (Sacred Feast)
HAIL, sacred Feast, to weary mortals given,
Pledge of God's love! O Christ, we here adore
Thee, the slain Lamb, and Thee, the Bread from heaven—
Our life and peace, our joy for evermore.
Feed us, dear Lord, Thine own great love supplying
5
Our lack of faith, our need of every grace;
Dwell in us richly, till, on Thee relying,
We reach our home and see Thee face to face.
poem by Frederick George Scott
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Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair
1 I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
2 Borne, like a vapor, on the summer air;
3 I see her tripping where the bright streams play,
4 Happy as the daisies that dance on her way.
5 Many were the wild notes her merry voice would pour.
6 Many were the blithe birds that warbled them o'er:
7 Oh! I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair,
8 Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.
9 I long for Jeanie with the daydawn smile,
10 Radiant in gladness, warm with winning guile;
11 I hear her melodies, like joys gone by,
12 Sighing round my heart o'er the fond hopes that die: --
13 Sighing like the night wind and sobbing like the rain, --
14 Wailing for the lost one that comes not again:
15 Oh! I long for Jeanie, and my heart bows low,
16 Never more to find her where the bright waters flow.
17 I sigh for Jeanie, but her light form strayed
18 Far from the fond hearts round her native glade;
19 Her smiles have vanished and her sweet songs flown,
20 Flitting like the dreams that have cheered us and gone.
21 Now the nodding wild flowers may wither on the shore
22 While her gentle fingers will cull them no more:
23 Oh! I sigh for Jeanie with the light brown hair,
24 Floating, like a vapor, on the soft summer air.
poem by Stephen C. Foster
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Twilight
I love thee, Twilight! as thy shadows roll,
The calm of evening steals upon my soul,
Sublimely tender, solemnly serene,
Still as the hour, enchanting as the scene.
I love thee, Twilight! for thy gleams impart
Their dear, their dying influence to my heart.
When o'er the harp of thought thy passing wind
Awakens all the music of the mind,
And joy and sorrow, as the spirit burns,
And hope and memory sweep the chords by turns
While contemplation, on seraphic wings,
Mounts with the flame of sacrifice, and sings.
Twilight! I love thee; let thy glooms increase,
Till every feeling, every pulse, is peace.
Slow from the sky the light of day declines,
Clearer within, the dawn of glory shines,
Revealing, in the hour of nature's rest,
A world of wonders in the poet's breast;
Deeper, O Twilight! then thy shadows roll, -
An awful vision opens on my soul.
poem by James Montgomery
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I'd Mourn the Hopes
I'd mourn the hopes that leave me,
If thy smiles had left me too;
I'd weep when friends deceive me,
If thou wert, like them, untrue.
But while I've thee before me,
With heart so warm and eyes so bright,
No clouds can linger o'er me,
That smile turns them all to light.
'Tis not in fate to harm me,
While fate leaves thy love to me:
'Tis not in joy to charm me,
Unless joy be shared with thee.
One minute's dream about thee
Were worth a long, an endless year
Of waking bliss without thee,
My own love, my only dear!
And though the hope be gone, love,
That long sparkled o'er our way,
Oh! we shall journey on, love,
More safely, without its ray.
Far better lights shall win me,
Along the path I've yet to roam --
The mind that burns within me,
And pure smiles from thee at home.
Thus, when the lamp that lighted
The traveller at first goes out,
He feels awhile benighted,
And looks round in fear and doubt.
But soon, the prospect clearing,
By cloudless starlight on he treads,
And thinks no lamp so cheering
As the light which Heaven sheds.
poem by Thomas Moore
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