Did you ever hear a poem that has stuck in your head for years and years?

[kristilew]

Nature's first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold
Her early leaf's a flower
But only so an hour
Then leaf subsides to leaf
And Eden sank to grief
So dawn goes down today
Nothing gold can stay

"Stay gold, Ponyboy!" Sorry, couldn't resist

 

[marciemi]

"'Twas brillig and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the boregoves
And the momeraths outgrabe"

Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

Yep, I can still do that one from memory from 7th grade too!

My favorite was the one I read in some kind of women's magazine when I was in college. I cut it out and saved it in my wallet since I was dating my DH at the time. We ended up having it put on our wedding invitations:

Someone asked me to name the time
Our friendship stopped and love began.
Oh my darling, that's the secret.
Our friendship never stopped!

 

[Abbie]

Out of the night that covers me
black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
for my unconquerable soul......

It matters not how strait the gate,
how charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

My dad used to recite this one.....we used it at his funeral last year.

 

[agnes!]

"'Twas brillig and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the boregoves
And the momeraths outgrabe"

Beware the Jabberwock my son
The jaws that bite
the claws that snatch
beware the jubjub bird and shun
the frumious bandersnatch...

Listen my children and you shall hear
of the midnight ride of Paul Revere

'Twas a midnight in April
In '75
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere.
One if by land and two if by sea...


Here's my complete contribution...

The Goops
The Goops they lick their fingers
And the Goops they lick their knives.
They spill their broth on the tablecloth
Oh! They lead disgusting lives.
The Goops they talk while eating
And loud and fast they chew...
And that is why
I'm glad that I
Am not a Goop.
Are you?

agnes!

 

[Feralpeg]

I had to learn this in junior high. I've never forgotten it. It seeps into my mind at the oddest times.

The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

 

[Boston Tea Party]

...the woods are lovely dark and deep, but I have promises to keep
and miles to go before I sleep...

That is mine as well. It always comes to mind when I have an arduous task ahead of me.

 

[funkychunkymonkey]

From alll the meat
that are sweet
from turkey down to ham
the one I like the best is Lamb Lamb Lamb

My uncle taught me that when I three

Jack o lantern
Jack O lantern
wheres your sister jill o lantern?

Forced to learn that in 2nd grade

 

[nancys]

Loving all these poems!!!

My favorite Limerick is:

There was a young man from Japan,
Whose poetry never would scan.
When the critics asked why, he said in reply,
Oh, I don't know; I think it's because I try to get as many words in the last line as I can.

 

[Abbie]

Loving all these poems!!!

My favorite Limerick is:

There was a young man from Japan,
Whose poetry never would scan.
When the critics asked why, he said in reply,
Oh, I don't know; I think it's because I try to get as many words in the last line as I can.

That one made me laugh out loud!!

 

[Narnian_Princess]

I took it upon myself when I was around 5th grade to memorize "Jabberwocky". I still remember every word.

I also know "Annabel Lee", and I used to know most of "The Highwayman," but I've since forgotten most of it. I never had a proper poetry class or anything until college, so these were all things I memorized out of love for the work.

Good stuff.

 

[crazee4mickey]

The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes

"The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.

He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin;
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle--
His rapier hilt a-twinkle--
His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred,
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--
Bess, the landlord's daughter--
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked--
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter--
The landlord's black-eyed daughter;
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast,
Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight
(O sweet black waves in the moonlight!),
And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon.
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor,
The redcoat troops came marching--
Marching--marching--
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side;
There was Death at every window,
And Hell at one dark window,
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had bound her up at attention, with many a s******ing jest!
They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,
"Look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."

She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;
Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again,
For the road lay bare in the moonlight,
Blank and bare in the moonlight,
And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.

Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear;
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.

Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight--
Her musket shattered the moonlight--
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.

He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood!
Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat
When they shot him down in the highway,
Down like a dog in the highway,
And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,
The highwayman comes riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--
Bess, the landlord's daughter--
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
"

I get shivers when I think of it

I love, love this poem! Heard it when I was in about grade 3 (35 years ago), memorized the entire thing in grade 6....it has always stuck in my mind!

 

[crazee4mickey]

How come they put s******ing? Do they do that when there is a word within a word now? That's weird...its not a bad word, but the spelling has a word that isn't good it means to laugh or snicker

 

[NMAmy]

Apparently, a lot of us had to memorize this one. It does come in handy sometimes when watching Jeopardy, though.

Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere.
On the 18th of April in '75
Hardly a man is now alive
That remembers that famous day and year.

 

[M&N]

I was an elementery librarian for 35 years and loved to use this one:

A wise old owl sat in an oak.
The more he saw, the less he spoke.
The less he spoke, the more he heard.
Why can't we all be like that wise old bird?

 

[Lisa loves Pooh]

My children both memorize this in Kindergarten and it will not leave my brain. Oldest is 4th grade now.


Rober Louis Stevensen "Rain"

Rain is raining all around
It falls on field and tree
It rains on the umbrellas here
And on the ships at sea.


And my kids say it sing-song so that is properly why it is stuck in my brain.

 

[live4christp1]

Here's the one that's stuck with me:

As little children bring their broken toys
In tears for us to mend
I brought my broken dreams to God
Becaus He is my friend
Then instead of leaving Him in peace to work alone
I hung around and tried to help in ways that were my own
Finally I snatched them back and said,
"God how could you be so slow?"
He said, "my child what could I do?
You never did let go."

 

[love2disney]

Long Long be my heart
With such memories filled
Like a vase in which
Roses have been distilled
You may break you may shatter
The vase if you will
The scent of the roses
Will hang around still

 

[Uuaww]

At Heaven's gate,
St. Peter he will tell,
One more soldier reporting sir,
I've spent my time in hell

 

[Tuffcookie]

High Flight. I read and memorized this back in jr high school and still love it!

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.
Sunward I’ve climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds—and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air,
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the windswept heights with easy grace
Where never lark or even eagle flew.
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high, untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.


TC

 

[DisneyMim]

Wow! Thanks for the memories.

As others have said I remember:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost and
The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere

Funny story, I grew up on Massachusetts Avenue and every April (Patriot's Day)they would have people dress up like Paul Revere and Dawes (?) and ride down the Ave on horses. When I was little I remember I would go out to wait for them and wave!


The poem I repeat often all winter to myself is:

I heard a bird sing in the dark of December
A beautiful thing and makes me remember(?not sure)
We are closer to spring than we were in September
I heard a bird sing in the dark of December.

Don't know who wrote it and don't remember where I heard it, but I still live in NE and hate the cold, snow and ice, so I really look forward to Spring!


Have a great week-end everyone!!