Oh, My Geraldine

Oh, my Geraldine,
No flow'r was ever seen so toodle um.
You are my lum ti toodle lay,
    Pretty, pretty queen,
Is rum ti Geraldine and something teen,
More sweet than tiddle lum in May.
    Like the star so bright
    That somethings all the night,
        My Geraldine!
You're fair as the rum ti lum ti sheen,
    Hark! there is what, ho!
    From something, um, you know,
        Dear, what I mean.
Oh I rum! tum!! tum!!! my Geraldine.

Francis Cowley Burnand

Sir Francis Cowley Burnand was a humorous playwright and former editor of the British magazine Punch. Born on November 29, 1836, he was educated at Eton and Cambridge. Burnand edited Punch from 1880 to 1906, during which time it achieved its highest circulation. His best-known work is the burlesque 'The Colonel.' He is known for his wit and contribution to Victorian era humor and satire. Burnand passed away on April 21, 1917.

Francis Cowley Burnand

Fisherman's Chant, The

Francis Cowley Burnand, Simple Poetry

True To Poll

Francis Cowley Burnand, Simple Poetry

English

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Geraldine

Just as the sun went bathing in a sea
Of liquid amber, flecked with caps of gold, I told
The sweet old story unto Geraldine, my Queen,
Who long hath made the whole of life for me.

But though she smiled upon me yesterday,
And heaven seemed near because she was so kind, I find
She held me but as one of many men; and then
Dismissed me in her proud, yet gracious way.

Ah, Geraldine! my lady of sweet arts,
There waits for thee not very far away, a day
When thou shalt waken out of tranquil sleep, and weep
Such bitter tears as spring from anguished hearts.

Thou shalt look in thy mirror with dismay
To find upon each feature of thy face, the trace
Of time, the lover who shall follow thee, and see
Thy rare youth slipping suddenly away.

So self-ass...

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Rhymes And Rhythms - V

Why, my heart, do we love her so?
(Geraldine, Geraldine!)
Why does the great sea ebb and flow?
Why does the round world spin?
Geraldine, Geraldine,
Bid me my life renew,
What is it worth unless I win,
Love, love and you?

Why, my heart, when we speak her name
(Geraldine, Geraldine!),
Throbs the word like a flinging flame?
Why does the spring begin?
Geraldine, Geraldine,
Bid me indeed to be,
Open your heart and take us in,
Love, love and me.

William Ernest Henley

The Geraldines.

I.

The Geraldines! the Geraldines!--'tis full a thousand years
Since, 'mid the Tuscan vineyards, bright flashed their battle-spears;
When Capet seized the crown of France, their iron shields were known,
And their sabre-dint struck terror on the banks of the Garonne:
Across the downs of Hastings they spurred hard by William's side,
And the grey sands of Palestine with Moslem blood they dyed;
But never then, nor thence, till now, has falsehood or disgrace
Been seen to soil Fitzgerald's plume, or mantle in his face.


II.

The Geraldines! the Geraldines!--'tis true, in Strongbow's van,
By lawless force, as conquerors, their Irish reign began;
And, oh! through many a dark campaign they proved their prowess stern,
In Leinster's plains and Munster's vales on k...

Thomas Osborne Davis

Geraldine, Geraldine

Geraldine, Geraldine,
Do you remember where
The willows used to screen
The water flowing fair?
The mill-stream's banks of green
Where first our love begun,
When you were seventeen,
And I was twenty-one?

Geraldine, Geraldine,
Do you remember how
From th' old bridge we would lean
The bridge that's broken now
To watch the minnows sheen,
And the ripples of the Run,
When you were seventeen,
And I was twenty-one?

Geraldine, Geraldine
Do you remember too
The old beech-tree, between
Whose roots the wild flowers grew?
Where oft we met at e'en,
When stars were few or none,
When you were seventeen,
And I was twenty-one?

Geraldine, Geraldine,
The bark has grown around
The names I cut therein,
And the...

Madison Julius Cawein

The Geraldines

I

The Geraldines! The Geraldines! 'tis full a thousand years
Since, 'mid the Tuscan vineyards, bright flashed their
battle-spears;
When Capet seized the crown of France, their iron shields were known,
And their sabre dint struck terror on the banks of the Garonne;
Across the downs of Hastings they spurred hard by William's side,
And the grey sands of Palestine with Moslem blood they dyed;
But never then, nor thence till now, has falsehood or disgrace
Been seen to soil Fitzgerald's plume, or mantle in his face.

II

The Geraldines! The Geraldines! 'tis true, in Strongbow's van,
By lawless force, as conquerors, their Irish reign began;
And, O! through many a dark campaign they proved their prowess stern,
In Leinster's plains, and Munster's vales, on king, ...

Thomas Osborne Davis

Geraldine

Ah, Geraldine, lost Geraldine,
That night of love, when first we met,
You have forgotten, Geraldine -
I never dreamed you would forget.

Ah, Geraldine, sweet Geraldine,
More lovely than that Asian queen,
Scheherazade, the beautiful,
Who in her orient palace cool
Of India, for a thousand nights
And one, beside her monarch lay,
Telling - while sandal-scented lights
And music stole the soul away -
Love tales of old Arabia,
Full of enchantments and emprise -
But no enchantments like your eyes.

Ah, Geraldine, loved Geraldine,
More lovely than those maids, I ween,
Pampinea and Lauretta, who,
In gardens old of dusk and dew,
Sat with their lovers, maid and man,
In stately days Italian,
And in quaint stories, that we know
Throug...

Madison Julius Cawein