annalee

Open the Door To Me, Oh

Oh, open the door, some pity to shew,

If love it may na be, Oh;

Tho' thou hast been false, I'll ever prove true,

Oh, open the door to me, oh.

Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek,

But caulder thy love for me, oh:

The frost that freezes the life at my heart,

Is nought to my pains frae thee, oh.

The wan Moon is setting beyond the white wave,
And Time is setting with me, oh:
False friends, false love, farewell! for mair
I'll ne'er trouble them, nor thee, oh.

She has open'd the door, she has open'd it wide,
She sees the pale corse on the plain, oh:
"My true love!" she cried, and sank down by his side,
Never to rise again, oh.

John Anderson, My Jo

John Anderson, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent;
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonie brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John,
Your locks are like the snaw;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson, my jo, John,
We clamb the hill thegither;
And mony a cantie day, John,
We've had wi'ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John,
And hand in hand we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.

Lang hae we pairted been

Lang hae we pairted been,
Lassie my dearie;
Nou we are met again,
Lassie lie near me.

Near me, near me,
Lassie, lie near me.
Lang hast thou lain thy lain,
Lassie, lie near me.

Aw that I hae endured,
Lassie, my dearie,
Here in thy airms is cured,
Lassie, lie near me.

Near me, near me,
Lassie, lie near me.
Lang hast thou lein thy lain,
Lassie, lie near me.

Good poems. I can't be doing with the weird formatting stuff that seems to keep happening on here, it's driving me mental that the first two verses up there are double spaced!!! But I just have give up on neatness and continuity. That last poem was possibly inspiration for Lay Lady Lay by Bob Dylan? At work, in the hospital we were reading some Burns poems with the patients but one of the ladies who was English shouted that she couldn't stand Burns and why didn't anybody know any Shakespeare around here?! So I recited the longest Shakespeare passage I knew, of course the soliloquy from Hamlet and how bloody amazing it is, even if it is vastly over-quoted. She was very happy and tapped me gently me on the nose. I can only remember the first seven lines though. I might start trying to learn really long passages. Those are the kinds of odd things I might like to spend my time doing.

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them. To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: aye, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveler returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.

Oh there isn't much that could beat that.