View Full Version : Love poems for February
Doon by the Riverside.
By Sandy Meikeljohn.
c. 1951
Doon by the riverside I’ll stray,
When evenin’ shadows fa’
An’ there embrace ma ain dear maid,
Fan daylicht gangs awa.
I’ll clasp her till ma throbbin’ breist,
Ne’er far ‘e waters glide,
For she’s ‘e darlin’ o’ ma he’rt,
Doon by the riverside.
Doon by the riverside, how sweet,
To drink her lovin’ smile,
And press a kiss upon her lips
Enraptured there ‘e while;
An’ softly whisper in her ear
‘Ma star o’ Evenin’-tide’
Through life A’ll cherish ye,
Doon by the riverside.
Doon by the riverside wi’ her,
Then let me ever stray;
Na either joy in life A crave,
But her in gloamin’ grey;
O grant me this, ye powers aboon,
An’ ever be ma guide,
To live in harmony wi’ her,
Doon by the riverside.
Jock’s Lament
Taken from the CC 1951
Fain wid I marry an’ if ye should ask
Why A don’t do so, ye set me a task!
Fain wid I marry but faith I do not!
Because in ma folly I luv ‘e whole lot!
I love Peg, I love Meg, love Maggie an’ Dolly,
I love one in Murkle an’ twa in Buchollie,
I love twa sweet blondes in ‘e gay Fisherbiggans,
So shy – to return to it they need lots o’ priggan!
I love barmaids an’ charmaids an’ milkmaids an’ housemaids,
An’ boldmaids an’ meek-as-a-mouse maids!
I love maids in Dounreay, I love them in Thrumster
My auntie she tells me that one lives in Humster!
I love girls at an office an girls at a baker’s
An’ girls in ‘e pieshop an’ black-puddin’ makers,
At times wi’ ma loved ones I wander to Whaligoe
An’ my lovin it lived till id reached up to Shelligoe!
I love maids at the Pentland an three at ‘e Royal,
I love Matrons that are flighty an’ maids that are loyal,
An’ maids at the pictures – the sweet little creatures
An’ wance for a stretch I loved twa Thirsa teachers!
An’ THAT’S why I’d mairry an’ yet A DO NOT!
I luv them, I luv them, I luv ‘e WHOLE LOT !!
(n.b. Jock is the owner of a good goin’ bike ! )
To My Valentine
( A can dream in February – Can I no ? )
by Chimmagie MacGonagle.
If ye should somehow fall for me
And A should tumble in reverse
We’d swear by all eternity
Take for better or for worse,
And live on love from dawn till taps,
Perhaps !
If ye hed money in ‘e bank –
As much as any bank wid hold –
A widna want a single franc,
For Love wid rule, an’ all your gold
Wid mean no more till me than Zinc –
A think !
Och Aye !
By P.J.
O ma luv’s lek a buttercup
Unrationed wi’ it’s butter,
Or lek a wee sea-pink amang
‘E cliffs far loud waves splutter.
As fair thou art, ma ain true Luv,
As Bing Crosby’s croon
An’ A will luv ye still ma dear
Till ‘e Cost o’ Livin’ somes doon!
Till ‘e Cost o’ Livin comes doon, ma dear,
An’ ‘e prices melt wi’ ‘e sun,
An’ a man may feed his wife an bairns
Withoot a poacher’s gun.
An’ fare thee weel, ma only Luv
For by ‘e Powers aboon,
‘Tis A will come again, ma Luv
When e Cost o’ Livin comes doon !
St Valentine’s Day
By the Caithness Violinist aka Robert MacKay.
c. 1951
Hids fifty years iss very day
Since Jock proposed tae me;
Ma hert I gave him straightaway
Wi’ a’ it’s love sae free.
Jock swore by every oath he kent,
He’d never let me doon,
But stick tae me as hard’s cement,
An’ we’d get merried soon.
But here I am a spinster still,
As Jock’s been aff for years
And still a gimmer on ‘e hill
Nae wonder A’m in tears.
So lassies tak ye my advice
An’ watch yersels wi’ men
Wi’ them ye stan’ on slippery ice
Believe me, for I ken.
But may ye fin’ a Valentine
That’ll ne’er lead ye astray
May love in purity entwine
Your hert an’ his this day.
In Love
By Thyrza Sutherland c. 1951
O guess ye hoo A feel the night
Ah! No! Ye dinna ken !
There ne’er was wan fa felt sae ill
Both but ‘e hoose an’ ben.
A canna rest at a’ at e’en
Doon by wur ain fireside,
But forth must go a’ by masel,
Till wander by ‘e tide !
A canna set ma wanderin’ thochts
On anything at a’
A canna eit, A canna sleep,
Ma peace has gone awa!
A’m ill, ye canna doot,
Ma heid’s fair lek till rive,
Ma hert aye forbye goes pit-a-pat
A’m mair deid than alive !
Losh lassie but I ken richt weel
What ails ye noo so sore,
Ye’ve seen twa een, they’ve stolen awa
Your peace, aye and far more,
Nae doot but wid he say ‘e word
Ye’d be content till rove,
So airm in airm, up ‘e Mall
For Jenny ye’re in LOVE !
Ma Ould Wumman an’ I
By Sanny St Clair c. 1950
We hev crossed ‘e bridge o’er the middle of life
Ma ould wumman an’ I
Takin wur share in the calm an strife
Wi’ the travellers passing by;
And though on our pathway the shadows are rife,
There’s a licht in the western sky !
Some losses an’ crosses of coorse we’ve had,
Ma ould wumman an’ I
But bless ye ! we’ve never found time to be sad,
And a very good reason why,
We were busy as bees, an’ we werena so mad
As til stop in wur work til cry !
On wur changeable road as we journeyed along,
Ma ould wumman an’ I
The kindly companions we met in the throng
Made our lives like a vision fly,
And therefore, the few that imagine us wrong,
Scarcely costs us a single sigh !
The weak an’ the weary we’ve striven til cheer
Ma ould wumman an’ I
For each o’ us thocht that wur duty while here
Was til do as we’d be done by,
In the hope to exhibit a balance clear
When the reckoning day is nigh !
To Margaret
By Robert MacKay c. 1947
My thoughts they often go astray
I keep forever sighin,
For my wee darling’s eyes of grey,
And to see her sweet face smilin’.
Her graceful waist disturbs my rest
Her cheery word enthrals me,
And ev’ry hour her magic power,
By night and day it calls me.
O, give me Margaret’s hand in mine
No other gift is dearer,
For love is in our heart’s divine,
And skies were never clearer.
Sweet Margaret, darling of my soul
So lovely and alluring
While I live on and age’s roll,
Our love will be enduring.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mary
By Robert MacKay.
A bonnier lass I’ve never seen,
From John O’ Groats to Aberdeen,
I bless the walk I took yestreen
‘Twas then I met wi’ Mary.
And when we met I couldna’ pass,
I said ‘Guid-een my bonnie lass,’
She smiled a smile none could surpass,
‘Twas then I ‘fell’ for Mary.
Her slender form I did embrace,
I kissed her lovely upturned face,
I know my love had found a place,
Within the heart of Mary.
I care not for your ruby wine
Nor all the gold that’s in the mine,
But gie me one sweet kiss divine,
From the rosy lips of Mary.
Her hert is kind, her manner gay,
I see her almost every day,
There’s ae thing mair I want to say,
Ma hert is a’ for Mary.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dancin in the Gloamin’
By Robert MacKay.
How sweet are Nature’s rural flowers
That bloom in sunny June,
How cosy are the sheltered bowers,
That hide us frae the moon.
How fair she looks that lo’es me,
As we baith go birlin’ roon’
Dancin to the fiddler in the gloamin’
Refrain –
Dancin in the gloamin wi’ the lassie frae the mill
Everywhere the sheep and kye are roamin’.
Life and love seem so divine as I hold her hand in mine
Dancin’ to the fiddler in the gloamin’.
The Laird may own a mansion house,
The Peer a castle braw,
Wi lords and ladies they may dine
In fashion’s latest law,
But wi’ my lassie in my arms
I’m happier than them a’ –
Dancin’ to the fiddler in the gloamin
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Lassies
By Robert MacKay. C. 1949
I love the lassies ane and a’
For a’ the bonnie ones I fa’
Their ways delight me every hour
For I’m completely in their power.
What though they sometimes flyte at me,
And bring the tears quick tae ma e’e
I would be surely less than human
If I’d deny the love of a woman.
Their smiles, their graceful walk and style
My very hert they fairly wile;
Without them, ach, this world would be
A duller, sadder place for me.
……………………………………………
Jamie Magee
By Robert MacKay. C. 1946
Oh, how can I sing when my laddie’s awa’
And how can I stay the sad tear frae my e’e
And how can I dance in the braw lichted ha’
And thochtless forget on dear Jamie Magee?
Oh, Pairtin’s nae pleasure to lovers, I trow ye,
That’s bridged by an ocean as mine is frae me,
The nicht time or mornin’ is aye noo sae dreary
Since I lost my canty young Jamie Magee.
I oft gae a-walkin where hunters are stalking,
The fleet-footed deer over heathland and lea,
And musing and sighing where curlews are crying,
I pine for ‘e sicht o’ braw Jamie Magee.
I dreamt that my love was upon the sea sailing
And oh! But ‘twas sweet an sae real to me,
But when I awoke in the grey o’ the morning,
I saw my dream vanish wi’ Jamie Magee.
But fate sent a letter an’ noo I feel better,
For Jamie is sailin’ for Scotland an me,
An’ he’s sent me a ring that will mak’ me forever,
The helpmate and wife o’ my Jamie Magee.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Caithness Lass
By Robert MacKay.
A bonnie lass, a cheery lass,
A nice wee lass is she,
So dinna try tae steal her hert,
For she’s gien it a’ tae me.
She winna tak’ ye for yer car,
Or for your LSD
I tell ye a’ where’er ye are,
She’s mine, and aye will be.
Her cheery smile and dark blue eyes
Are set on nane but me,
And best o’ a’ her love’s the prize,
That’s wi me til I dee.
Ye single men from hill an glen
In Caithness by the sea.
How weel I lek her nane‘ll ken
Except hersel’ and me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jessag
By Robert MacKay
Poor Jessag couldna’ get a man
However hard she tried,
And faith she worked on ilka plan
But love her arts defied.
Tae kirk an’ markad Jess went dressed,
Jist lek a pented doll,
But ilka chiel he stood the test
An’ Jessag still a moll.
Her feyther gave her good advice,
Her mither telt her straight,
‘Yer face an figure’s no’ their price,
So Jessag ye maun wait’
But ae nicht at a kirk soiree,
She met a chiel fae Bower,
They coorted for twa weeks or three,
An noo the weddin’s ower.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
With thanks to my good freen for sending me such wonderful Caithness poems !
Trinkie
And thanks to you Trinkie for sharing them......brilliant....:)
When I wis young in days gone by
There wis something I wanted till do –
Dance all nicht in the BB Hall
Wi’ no one else but you!
We’d sway till e’ beat o’ music sae sweet
As it wafted through e’ air
Ye’d hold my hand, I’d feel so grand
In oor hearts there wis no care.
We’d waltz till a tune going roond an roond
In our heads, as we crossed the floor
Till the beat of three, jist you and me
I wished for naething more.
I’d feel the touch of your soft cheek
As it brushed so gently ‘gainst mine
I’d smile, but widna dare till speak
But Oh my eyes wad shine.
An’ then they’d play a merry tune
Ye’d whirl me off ma feet.
Twirlin an’ twirlin’ roon an’ roon
Wi’ steps so fast and neat.
An’ as the music stopped once more
Ye’d lead me to ma chair
An sit me doon aside yursel
An run yur fingers through ma hair.
Oh I wad sigh, how glad was I
That ye hed danced wi’ me
For now we’ve been merrid many a year
Nearly forty and three !!
( and many more !! )
Well done for posting these, trinkie -what wonderful poems! :D
Rose Cottage
By Nita H Padwick. C. 1952
She was the sweetest little cot
Near an old stone bridge at Reay,
With a charming garden plot
Fenced by Caithness slatings grey;
Over the slates the fair rose clambers,
Pale and deep pink, rosy ramblers.
Marguerites most big and white
Mix with mallows soft pink sheaves,
And fill a corner with delight
While the fairy rambler weaves
All around, nigh everywhere,
It’s beautiful and rose-hung snare.
Spires of lupin, pinkish gold,
Rise here and there along the border,
An ash tree droops above the mould,
The grass is cut, all in good order.
By grey-flagged pavement small flowers grow,
Harebells blue gleam there, I know.
In the distance now, a dream,
Is that little cot of Reay,
Where the bright, swift-running stream
Flowed beneath three arches grey,
And the road led wide and far –
‘Goodbye, goodbye’’ Off sped my car.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Heart for Sale . by Achawa c. 1952.
The lass I lost at Achingale
Meant everything to me;
She was my life, she was my love
And now – my memory.
A memory of scented hair
Sweet lips and laughing eyes;
Soft, murmuring voice, caressing hands,
An earthly paradise.
To walk with her beneath the stars
Down kiss-strewn Lovers’ Lane,
To know once more the warm embrace
Deep in her arms again.
And now that I have advertised
This lonely heart for sale,
I’d like to think she missed me too,
That lass from Achingale.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Trampin’ Lass. Sung at Dounreay by Donald Gunn.
Notes here by Jenny Horne... ‘ Trampin’ was a great industry many years ago,
And the tubs of lint were at a place near Wick. There are yet table cloths and sheets in the county made from the lint. The Trampin songs are very old.
The Trampin Lass.
As I went out one Saturday night,
To hae a wee bit stroll
Ne thinking o’ the time gone by,
Till I went past the toll.
Chorus –
Oh far are ye gaun, gie me yer han’
Oh how are ye deein’ says I .
Oh haud up yer head my bonnie lass
An dinna ye look sae shy.
I had no far gin by the toll,
The ‘carter’s brig’ did pass,
When fa dae ye think I chanced to meet
But my bonnie Trampin’ Lass.
Far are ye gaun, far dae ye stray,
Come tell to me yer name
An’ wid yer faither be angry noo
If I wid see ye hame?
We stood and crack’d for a wee while
About that thing ca’d love,
Ne’er thinking on the time gone by
Till the stars grew dark above.
She drew her shawl aroon her heed,
And this to me did say,
‘I think young man it’s getting late
An time I was away.’
She was working doon in the Milton fields
Trampin hanks o’ flax, ye ken
She liked it weel, had ten bob a week,
Besides her over time.
Said I ‘Lass what need ye care,
For gin ye will be mine,
I’ll tak ye to ma faither’s ha’
Where love will on us shine.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Trampin Lass
‘Far are ye gain, my trampin lass,
Whar are ye goin?’ says I
Whar are ye gain, gies yer han’
An dinna ye look sae shy.
‘Oh whar is yer home my trampin lass?
Oh tell me whar do ye stay?
‘If ye should like to know the place,
I live doon by Milton way.’’
Chorus –
‘Oh I should wish tae see ye hame,
For Milton’s far away.’
‘But I have a lad that loves me well
An’ he meets me half the way.’
Chorus.
‘Then trampin lass, I have no chance,
If your lad is handsome and gay.’
‘He’s loving and kind, and handsome of heart,
And we fixed the wedding day.’
Chorus.
~~~~~~~~~~~
As the Rose grows Merry in Time.
From The Silver Darlings by Neil M. Gunn.
Page 546
" This" said Finn, "is a song I heard from a woman in my native county of Caithness …"
As I came over yonder hill,
As the rose grows merry in time,
I met a fair maiden her name it was Nell
Saying, an you will be a true lover of mine.
You must make unto me a cambric shirt,
As the rose grows merry in time,
Without one stitch of your own needlework,
Before you can be a true lover of mine.
You must wash it in yonder well,
As the rose grows merry in time,
Where water ne’er flowed nor dew ever fell,
Before you can be a true lover of mine.
"It’s questions three you have put to me,
As the rose grows merry in time,
But twice as many more you must answer to me,
Before you can be a true lover of mine.
"An acre of land you must plough to me,
As the rose grows merry in time,
Between the salt waters and the sands of the sea,
Before you can be a true love of mine.
"You must plough it with a wild ram’s horn,
As the rose grows merry in time,
And sow it all over with one peck of corn,
Before you can be a true lover of mine.
"You must reap it with a wild-goose feather,
As the rose grows merry in time,
And bind it together with the sting of a nether (adder )
Before you can be a true lover of mine.
"You must build it on yonder sea,
As the rose grows merry in time,
And bring in the last sheaf dry unto to me,
Before you can be a true lover of mine.
"You must thresh it on yon castle wall,
As the rose grows merry in time,
And mind on your life don’t let one pickle fall,
Before you can be a true lover of mine.
"And – when you have finished your work,
As the rose grows merry in time,
You may call upon on me for your cambric shirt
And then you can be a true lover of mine."
I am enjoying these too, Trinkie. Thank you :D
Trinkie, than you for sharing these LOVEly poems with us! You always come up with something good! :)
LOVE'S CALENDAR
By William Bell Scott.
1811- 1890 Painter and Poet.
( Scott, born in Edinburgh came from an artistic family.
He greatly inspired Rossetti.)
That gusty spring, each afternoon
By the ivied cot I passed,
And noted at that lattice soon
Her fair face downward cast;
Still in the same place seated there,
So diligent, so very fair.
Oft-times I said I knew her not,
Yet that way round would go,
Until, when evenings lengthened out,
And bloomed by the may-hedge row,
I met her by the wayside well,
Whose waters, maybe, broke the spell.
For, leaning on her pail she prayed
I'd lift it to her head,
So did I; but I'm much afraid
Some wasteful drops were shed,
And that we blushed, as face to face
Needs must we stand the shortest space.
Then when the sunset mellowed through
The ears of rustling grain,
When lattice wide open flew,
When ash-leaves fell like rain,
As well as I she knew the hour
At morn or eve I neared her bower.
And now that snow o'erlays the thatch,
Each starlit eve within
The door she waits, I raise the latch,
And kiss her lifted chin;
Nor do I think we've blushed again,
For Love hath made but one of twain.
I WILL MAKE YOU BROOCHES.
by Robert Louis Stevenson .
I will make you brooches and toys for your delight
Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night.
I will mae a palace fit for you and me
Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.
I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room,
Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom,
And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white
In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night.
And this shall be for music when no one else is near,
The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear !
That only I remember, that only you admire,
Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire.
SWEET LAVENDER
By John Oxenham 1852-1941
The pains of hell had gotten hold of him.
He longed for death,
Dim were his eyes, feeble his pulse, and grim
His laboured breath.
His nurses' hearts were wrung with woe for him,
So sore his plight;
His cup of anguish trembled to the brim for him,
Without respite.
Sleep came not near to succour him.
All day he longed for night;
And through the dim night-watches still he lay
Craving the light.
"He cannot stand it long" they said
And yet
He did not die.
And each new thing they tried seemed but to whet
His agony.
"Unless he sleeps, he dies"... The sands ran low,
But nought availed
To check the on-come of the ruthless foe -
Pain still prevailed.
Then one, in pity, on his pillow laid
A tiny bag
Of Lavender, the simplest thing - rough made
Of silken rag.
Pale blue it was, like the Maddonna's gown -
Or English skies,
In Springtime, when the sweet bright days enthrone,
Life's ecstasies.
"What's that?" the sufferer groaned,
And sensed its sweet
With eagerness
"Sweet Lavender from home " ... and the word beat
Through his distress.
Sweet Lavender from home ! .... it wafted him
Across the seas -
He saw the path, the stile, the stream abrim
The sunlit trees -
Where he and one had wandered, heart to heart -
Wedded that day -
With four days more before they two must part -
He to the fray.
And she had pelted him with lavender's
Sweet budding sprays,
And like to heaven had been his love and hers
Those five full days.
He smiled, through all the torment of his pain,
And then.... he slept;
And all the ward, to salvage such great gain
On tip-toe crept.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
They know not whom to thank for that sweet grace -
Their hearts go out
To you, and you, in gratitude, in case
'Twas your good thought.
That tiny silken bag they hold, you see,
Beyond all price,
For, under God, three lives it saved, maybe
For Paradise.
THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE
By Christopher Marlowe 1564 - 1593
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle:
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold:
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.
The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning;
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
DIAPHENIA. by Henry Constable
Diaphenia like the daffodowndilly
White as the sun, pure as the lily,
Heigh Ho, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as my lambs
Are beloved of their dams,
How blest were I if thou wouldst prove me.
Diaphenia, like the spreading roses,
That in thy sweets all sweets encloses,
Fair sweet, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as each flower
Loves the sun's life-giving power,
For, dead, thy breath to life might move me.
Diaphenia, like to all things blessed,
When all thy praises are expressed,
Dear joy, how I do love thee,
As the birds do love the Spring
Or the bees their careful king,
Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me !
........................................
My true-love Hath My Heart. by Sir Philip Sidney.
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange one for the other given,
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven.
His heart in me keeps me and him in one,
My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides,
He loves my heart, for once it was his own,
I cherish his because in me it hides.
His heart his wound received from my sight,
My heart was wounded with his wounded heart.
For as from me on him his heart did light,
So still methought in me his heart did smart.
Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss,
My true-love have my heart, and I have his.
..............................................
It Was the Time of Roses. by Thomas Hood.
It was not in the winter
Our loving lot was cast ;
It was the time of roses -
We plucked them as we passed !
That churlish season never frowned
On early lovers yet !
O no, the world was newly crowned
With flowers, when we first met.
'Twas twilight, and I bade you go,
But still you held me fast,
It was the time of roses -
We plucked them as we passed .....
.................................................. .
I'll Overtake Thee. author unknown
I'll weave my love a garland,
He shall be dressed so fine.
I'll set it round with roses,
With lilies, pinks and thyme,
And I'll present it to my love,
When he comes back from sea;
For I love my love, and I love my love
Because my love loves me.
I wish I were an arrow
That sped into the air,
To seek him as a sparrow
And if he be not there
Then quickly I'd become a fish
To search the raging sea;
For I love my love, and I love me love
Because my love loves me .
I would I were a reaper,
I'd seek him in the corn;
I would I were a keeper,
I'd hunt him with my horn,
I'd blow a blast, when found at last,
Beneath the greenwood tree,
For I love my love, and I love my love,
Because my love loves me.
.......................................
Down by the Salley Gardens. by W B Yeats
Down by the Salley Gardens my love and I did meet;
She passed the Salley Gardens with little snow-white feet,
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree;
But I, being young and foolish, with her would not agree.
In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand,
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.
.................................................. .
Many a Flower by M E Coleridge.
Many a flower have I seen blossom,
Many a bird for me will sing
Never heard I so sweet a singer
Never saw I so fair a thing.
She is a bird, a bird that blossoms,
She is a flower, a flower that sings;
And I a flower when I behold her,
And when I hear her, I have wings.
.......................................
When June is Come by Robert Bridges
When June is come, then all the day,
I'll sit with my love in the scented hay,
And watch the sunshot palaces high,
That the white clouds build in the breezy sky.
She singeth, and I do make her a song,
And read sweet poems the whole day long,
Unseen as we lie in our hay-built home.
Oh, life is delight when June is come.
.....................................
My Wife by R L Stevenson.
Trusty, dusky, vivid, true,
With eyes of gold and bramble-dew,
Steel-true and blade-straight
The great artificer
Made my mate.
Honour, anger, valour, fire;
A love that life could never tire,
Death quench or evil stir,
The mighty master
Gave to her.
Teacher, tender, comrade, wife,
A fellow-farer true through life,
Heart-whole and soul-free,
The august father
Gave to me.
( Girls, I must tell you - he loved her being so PLUMP ! The plumper she got , the more he loved her ! )
............................
When You Are Old. by W B Yeats
When you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep.
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled,
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
...........................................
A RED, RED ROSE by Robert Burns
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;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
And fare thee weel, my only luve!
And fare-thee-weel, a while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile!
Thank you Sporran - Burns is surely the best...
.................................................. .........
To His Wife ... by General Su Wu . c.100BC
translated by Arthur Waley.
Since my hair was plaited and we became man and wife
The love between us was never broken by doubt.
So let us me merry this night together,
Feasting and playing while the good time lasts.
I suddenly remember the distance I must travel;
I spring from bed and look out to see the time,
The stars and planets are all grown dim in the sky.
Long, long is the road; I cannot stay.
I am going on service, away to the battle-ground,
And I do not know when I shall be back.
I hold your hand with only a deep sigh;
Afterwards, tears - in the days when we are parted.
With all your might enjoy the spring flowers,
But do not forget the time of our love and pride.
Know that if I live, I will come back again,
And if I die, we will go on thinking of each other.
...........................................
Parting from Su Wu.
The good time will never come again
In a moment our parting will be over.
Beside the cross-road we faltered, uneasily,
In the open fields we paused, hand on hand.
The clouds above are floating across the sky.
Swiftly, swiftly passing; or blending together.
The waves in the wind lose their fixed place
And are rolled away each to a corner of Heaven.
From now onwards long must be out parting,
So let us stop again for a little while.
I wish I could ride on the wings of the morning wind
And go with you right to your journey's end.
.................................................. .
Li Ling and Su Wu were both prisoners in the land of the Huns.
After nineteen years Su Wu was released. Li Ling would not go back with him....
Lavenderblue2
12-Feb-08, 20:20
Sweethearts
A whustlin’ laddie new left schule,
A lssie airtin’ hame,
Wee Cupid waitin’ up the hill –
Love’s aye the same.
I saw a halflin’ wi’ his lass
Yae nicht when daunnerin’ hame;
I heard the lauch and sly kiss pass –
Love’s aye the same.
A buirdly man ahint the ploo,
A wife to keep the hame,
Fower bonnie bairns, life’s bicker fu’ –
Love’s aye the same.
A sunset in a gowden sky,
The twaesome nearly hame,
Anither kiss, a lang guid-bye –
Love’s aye the same.
Gilbert Rae.
Lavenderblue2
12-Feb-08, 20:24
Mary’s Song
I wad ha’e gi’en him my lips tae kiss,
Had I been his, had I been his;
Barley breid and elder wine,
Had I been his as he is mine.
The wanderin’ bee it seeks the rose;
Tae the lochan’s bosom the burnie goes;
The grey bird cries at evenin’s fa’,
“My luve, my fair one, come awa’.”
My beloved sall ha’e this he’rt tae break,
Reid, reid wine and the barley cake,
A he’rt tae break, and a mou’ tae kiss,
Tho’ he be nae mine, as I am his.
Marion Angus
Lavenderblue2
12-Feb-08, 20:41
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
helenwyler
14-Feb-08, 11:53
[quote=trinkie;337761]DIAPHENIA. by Henry Constable
Diaphenia like the daffodowndilly
White as the sun, pure as the lily,
Heigh Ho, how I do love thee!
I do love thee as my lambs
Are beloved of their dams,
How blest were I if thou wouldst prove me.
Hi trinkie!
Have you heard John Coates singing this? We have it on a 78...thanks for reminding me:).
Hi Helenwyler,
No, I haven't heard John Coates sing that.
I used to sing it myself in a choir I belonged to long ago, can't remember who arranged it.
There are quite a few recordings from the old English collections.
I see from the back of one of my books Cecil Sharp and Maud Karpeles went to the Southern Appalachians in 1916-1918 to collect old songs which had been handed down word of mouth from forefathers who had emigrated.
I have a dulcimer, and have noticed in such music books many old English songs coming from the Appalachians... good that they go round and round !
Keep singing !
Trinkie
helenwyler
15-Feb-08, 00:30
Hi again Trinkie
The recording we have was arranged by Whittaker, with Gerald Moore at the piano in 1928. I wish I could let you hear it...lovely! I'm very impressed you have a dulcimer! I've never heard one 'live' though I like the hammered dulcimer very much:).
Helen
A Birthday by Christina Rossetti.
My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
My heart is like an apple tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit.
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me.
Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes,
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes,
Work it with gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleur-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.
Cedric Farthsbottom III
15-Feb-08, 20:21
A belated valentine because it is one day later
A belated valentine because in ma heart is left a crater
A belated valentine cos whilst oot walking the dog
A belated valentine cos it was in a riverside bog
A belated valentine because it rang so true
A belated valentine because it reminds me of you
A belated valentine cos the guy who wrote the letter
A belated valentine cos his wife had found someone better
A belated valentine because he began to shiver
A belated valentine as he was found dead in the river
A belated valentine cos dear we plonder often
A belated valentine cos did our hearts soften
A belated valentine because I know for sure
A belated valentine because our love is pure
A belated valentine for enduring the strife
A belated valentine my oh most beautiful wife
xx Ced.
My Love in her Attire doth show Wit.
Anon.
My love in her attire doth show her wit,
It doth so well become her:
For every season she hath dressings fit,
For Winter, Spring, and Summer.
No beauty she doth miss
When all her robes are on:
But Beauty’s self she is
When all her robes are gone.
Lavenderblue2
17-Feb-08, 21:44
I was reminded of this beautiful love song tonight -I think it fits in well with this thread.
Darling, I am growing old,
Silver threads among the gold
Shine upon my brow today;
Life is fading fast away;
But, my darling, you will be, will be,
Always young and fair to me,
Yes, my darling, you will be,
Always young and fair to me.
Chorus:
Darling, I am growing old,
Silver threads among the gold,
Shine upon my brow today;
Life is fading fast away.
When your hair is silver white,
And your cheeks no longer bright,
With the roses of the May;
I will kiss your lips and say-
Oh! my darling, mine alone, alone,
You have never older grown,
Yes, my darling, mine alone,
You have never older grown.
Chorus:
Love can never more grow old,
Locks may lose their brown and gold,
Cheeks may fade and hollow grow,
But the hearts that love will know
Never, never, winter's frost and chill:
Summer warmth is in them still-
Never winter's frost and chill,
Summer warmth is in them still.
Chorus:
Love is always young and fair,-
What to us is silver hair,
Faded cheeks or steps grown slow,
To the heart that beats below?
Since I kissed you, mine alone, alone,
You have never older grown-
Since I kissed you, mine alone,
You have never older grown.
Chorus:
LB
Lavenderblue2 ... I have been singing that song all day !
Thank you for putting it on......
.................................................. ............
Is there a John Anderson in the house ? This is for you !
John Anderson my jo
By Robert Burns
John Anderson my jo, John
When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven
Your bonnie brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld John,
Your locks are like the snow,
But blessings on your frosty prow,
John Anderson, my jo.
John Anderson my jo, John
We clamb the hill the gither,
And mony a canty day, John,
We’ve had wi’ ane anither,
Now ye maun totter down, John,
And hand in hand we’ll go,
And sleep the gither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.
There is a Lady Sweet and Kind
By Thomas Ford.
1580 - 1648. English
There is a lady sweet and kind
Was never face so pleased my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet I love her till I die.
Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,
Her wit, her voice, my heart beguiles,
Beguiles my heart, I know not why,
And yet I love her till I die…..
Cupid is winged and doth range
Her country so my love doth change;
But change she earth, or change she sky,
Yet will I love her till I die.
The Shepherdess
By A Meynell
She walks – the lady of my delight –
A shepherdess of sheep.
Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white ;
She guards them from steep ;
She feeds them on the fragrant height,
And folds the in for sleep.
She roams maternal hills and bright,
Dark valleys safe and deep.
Into that tender breast at night
The chastest stars may peep.
She walks – the lady of my delight –
A shepherdess of sheep.
She holds her little thoughts in sight.
Though gay they run and leap.
She is so circumspect and right ;
She has her soul to keep,
She walks – the lade of my delight –
A shepherdess of sheep.
I Will Not Let Thee Go.
by Robert Bridges.
I will not let thee go.
Ends all our month-long love in this?
Can it be summed up so,
Quit in a single kiss?
I will not let thee go.
I will not let thee go
If thy words' breath could scare thy deeds,
As the soft south can blow,
And toss the feathered seeds,
Then might I let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
Had not the great sun seen, I might,
Or were he reckoned slow
To bring the false to light,
Then might I let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
The stars that crowd the summer skies,
Have watched us so below,
With all their million eyes.
I dare not let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
Have we not chid the changeful lmoon,
Now rising late, and now
Because she set too soon,
And shall I let thee go?
I will not let thee go.
Have not the young flowers been content,
Plucked ere their buds could blow,
To seal our sacrament?
I cannot let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
I hold thee by too many bands ;
Thou sayest farewell, and lo !
I have thee by the hands,
And will not let thee go.
The Tryst
By William Soutar 1898 – 1943
( Perth )
O luely, luely cam she in
And luely she lay doun;
I kent her by her caller lips
And her breists sae sma’ and roun’.
A’ thru’ the nicht we spak nae word
Nor sinder’d bane frae bane;
A’ thru the nicht I heard her hert
Gang soundin’ wi’ my ain.
It was about the waukrife hour
Whan cocks begin to craw
That she smool’d saftly thru the mirk
Afore the day wud daw.
Sae luely, luely, cam she in
Sae leuly was she gaen
And wi’ her a’ my simmer days
Like they had never been.
She Moved Through the Fair
By Padraic Colum
My young love said to me ‘My brothers won’t mind,
And my parents won’t slight you for your lack of kind.’
Then she stepped away from me, and this she did say,
‘It will not be long love, till our wedding day.’
She stepped away from me and she moved through the fair.
And fondly I watched her go here and go there,
Then she went her way homeward with one star awake,
As the swan in the evening moves over the lake.
The people were saying no two were e’er wed,
But one had a sorrow that never was said.
And I smiled as she passed with her goods and her gear,
And that was the last that I saw of my dear.
I dreamt it last night that my young love came in,
So softly she entered, her feet made no din,
She came close beside me, and this she did say,
‘It will not be long love, till our wedding day.’
This is not strictly a Love Poem, but all’s well in the end !
I am submitting this traditional song in memory of an old friend who died recently – Bill Deans.
‘’Weelam’’ gave me the book of Cornkisters in 1954 and it has been loved and treasured ever since. We had many a sing song together.
I Maun Gang Tae The Garret.
Traditional.
My mither has three butter platies,
Platies ? Aye, platies,
My mither has three butter platies,
And she’s nae ither dochters but me.
Chorus:
But I maun gang tae the garret,
The garret ? Aye, the garret,
I maun gang tae the garret,
For there’s nae bonnie laddie for me.
My faither’s a wee white horsie,
Horsie? Aye a horsie.
My faither’s a wee white horsie,
And nae ither dochters but me.
Chorus.
My mither has forty white shillings
Shillings? Aye Shillings,
My mither has forty white shillings,
And nae ither dochters but me.
Chorus.
But doon in yon howe there’s a miller,
A miller? Aye a miller,
But doon in yon howe there’s a miller
And he often comes and courts me.
Chorus.
So noo I’m gaun tae be mairret,
Mairret? Aye mairret;
So noo I’m gaun tae be mairret,
And the garret will nae be for me.
She Walks in Beauty, like the Night.
By George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron .
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.
O Wert Thou in the Cauld Blast
By Robert Burns
O wert thou in the cauld blast,
On yonder lea, on yonder lea,
My plaidie to the angry airt,
I’d shelter thee, I’d shelter thee.
Or did misfortune’s bitter storms
Around thee blaw, around thee blaw,
Thy bield should be my bosom,
To share it a’, to share it a’.
Or were I in the wildest waste,
Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a Paradise
If thou wert there, if thou wert there.
Or were I monarch o’ the globe,
Wi’ thee to reign, wi’ thee to reign,
The brightest jewel in my crown
Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.
Love-lowe
By Alan Bold
Yer glowin’ gowden by the guschach
Tho’ the flames are red.
Like water thresh’d wi’ keethin’-sight,
Ye mak me feel guid.
As a thief wi’ glender-gear,
I keep ye close,
Ye gae through me as the sun-glaff glides
Straight through ma gless.
Aye, ye gleet an’ glitter glegly
A saft sunblink on a scow.
I’m aye blowthirin’ but, lassie
It’s the richt love-lowe,
The richt love-lowe.
(Love-lowe---- Love flame)
Come Live with Me and be my Love,
The Passionate Shepherd to His Love.
By Christopher Marlowe.
1564 – 1593
English Dramatist, Spy and Poet.
Come live with me and be my love
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills and fields,
Woods or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls,
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle.
A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;
A belt of straw and ivy buds
With coral clasps and amber studs,
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my love.
The shepherds’ swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning,
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
Cedric Farthsbottom III
28-Feb-08, 01:09
I saw in the beauty of her eyes
That those eyes could see so clear
That the days that lay ahead for us
Were so alive and full of no fear
And we've grasped these years within our hearts
And our smiles to each other will prove
That you know me and I know you
Together,if love you remove
For love is roses between the teeth
Or champagne with a toast
But me and you dae neither
Its LURVE we have the most
Is true love really all wine and roses
Or shared affection in daily doses?
Is it lust and infatuation
Or fondness in continuation?
Whatever it is, I can only say this
A partnership isn't always true bliss
It takes two to tango, and not step on toes
Life's full of joys and often some woes.
What really matters, is to have the same goals
A meeting of minds, perhaps of two souls
A shared sense of humour is really a must
That's not to say I have it all sussed!
To have Marriage sussed is itself a goal
The bed of Roses has big thorns
to stab the heart when it can
But if we get the right Prescription
A marriage is a bed of riches
washing all the dirty socks
cooking meals from Dawn til dusk
To reap rewards from each other
we have to listen to one another
maybe that is why he said
nothing on the telly love
so I will say goodnight
I am off to Bed !!!
Believe me if all those Endearing Young Charms.
By Thomas Moore.
Believe me if all those endearing young charms
Which I gaze on so fondly today
Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms
Like fairy gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear,
That the fervour and faith of a soul may be known
To which time will but make thee more dear.
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets,
The same look which she turned when he rose !
Oh lassies in love, today you can be bold
Propose to your lad, before you get too old
Make up his mind before it's too late
Today's the day to suggest a wedding date!
Now lads if you'll listen, you'll know what's good for you
When your lassie proposes, say "yes", whatever you do
She'll smother you in kisses, reward you with a smile
And before you know it, you'll be going up the aisle!
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