Useless book and poetry quotes memorized as a child.

In fifth grade I had to learn the whole first verse of Paul Revere's Ride. It has stuck in my head all these years, taking up valuable space that I could use to remember things like phone numbers, birthdays etc... Every once in a while someone will say something that reminds me of said poem and I have to say the whole verse or I can't get it back out of my head.

Anyone else?

I still remember "The Road Less Travelled" from middle school.

I also remember this poem from early childhood:

"Little birdy in the sky
Dropped some whitewash in my eye
I'm not mad
I won't cry
I'm just glad that cows don't fly."

My brain is scary.

HAHAHA I can still quote bits and pieces from Where the Sidewalk Ends. JUst silly little diddles like that. 8)

I am Sam.
Sam I am.
"That Sam-I-Am! That Sam-I-Am! I do not like that Sam-I-Am!"
"Do you like green eggs and ham?" . . . .

I can do the first several lines of Madeline, too, and various others. And many poems that, as you say, spring unbidden to mind and get stuck there like bad commercial jingles.

I had to memorize the whole of "paul Revere's ride when I was in fifth grade. 15 verses, that I still remmeber most of

In 5 & 6th grade our teacher used to write 2 lines from a poem on the blackboard every day for us to memorize. When we learned one poem, she'd start another one. They were usually short (Robert Frost) & sometimes funny. The most popular one was "High Flight" by "John Gillespie Magee Jr. 19 year old American pilot killed in action while serving with the royal Canadian Air force." She also had us memorize a few facts about the poet.

Not everyone cares for poetry, but over the years, I have taken a lot of comfort from poems memorized in school or just from reading them so many times.

I still remember "Nothing Gold Can Stay" by Robert Frost. Mostly because it was in The Outsiders, but also because our leaves have been in that "Her early leafs a flower" stage for weeks. Things are finally moving from gold and getting greener.

In 6th grade, I had to memorize the preamble to the Constitution and the enitre Declaration of Independence.

Who says it is useless. My parents used to read my poetry much of which I still remember.

When I was in undergrad I tried to memorize one of Shakespeare's sonnets each week which lasted for about 4 or 5 weeks before I got too busy.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediment"

"My mistress eyes are nothing like the son"

"When to the sessions of sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past"

"In loving thee thou knowst I am foresworn"

I only wish I had more poetry bouncing around my head instead of commercials jingles or other useless tidbits.

Lewis Carrol plays in my head often. I can recite The Jabberwocky while juggling, and I love "The Crocodile."

Let's see how I do with a tired brain:

How doth the lovely crocodile
Improve his shining tail
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every gleaming scale!

How cheerfully he seems to grin
How neatly spread his claws
And welcome little fishies in
With gently closing jaws!

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright—
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

...

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"

...

"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat—
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

...

"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

...

"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."

"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?

"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf—
I've had to ask you twice!"

"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"

"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none—
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

I cheated and looked it up, but this has to increase my word-per-message stat.

I took my first lit class when I was twenty. I memorized all sorts of poems for the class what with one to two essays due each week. (Btw, that was the best thing that could have happened to me writing-wise. It cured my fear of essays completely.) I had several poems stuck in my head, some of which jumbled together. There was a lot of Dickinson amongst poems by others. I would type the poems up each week alongside a piece of art and place them on my computer desktop to stare at while I picked at the poem with my brain.

At some point, I think around this time, I started having really weird dreams. I started hearing poems in my dreams, or would read books in my sleep that I didn't recall ever having read. What made the dreams stranger was that I would have what I think of as two dreams at once, one a typical dream and the other a literary sort, unless I'd played a lot of spider solitaire, in which case it would be that. You could pull one dream forward and have the other fade in the distance, and switch right back to being fully aware of both. Weird, weird, weird.

Kerian trivia: When I sneeze, I get a line from a poem stuck in my head. It's always the same line with one altered word. These are the words that instantly pop into my head when I sneeze: 'When I have sneezes that I may cease to be.'
I have no idea why this happens. It just happened yesterday and isn't as bad as it used to be, because I actually sneezed at least twice at work today without these words jamming into my head.

#11 Espy:
Awww! And there I was, reading the entire thing and ready to congratulate you! ;)

Goodness, do I ever want to read Lewis Carrol's works now!

I remembered the first stanza, but I checked it before I post due to the lateness of the hour, and then I couldn't help but post my favorite sections of the entire poem.

The entire poem is pretty pointless in context of the book, but it's still fun.

way back in aforementioned fifth grade my teacher had us take turns doing an "opening" we each had a xerox pamplet of inspirational poems, and access to a record player adn records of inspirational and patriotic songs. The chosen "Opener" of the day would go to the front and call the class to order. We stood and did the pledge to the flag and a daily prayer. then we listened in rapt boredom, following along in our own booklet, the poem that child chose to read. then listened to a song. Politely we would chant "Thank you, (name) ,for beginning our day." then we would start lessons

i had to memorize a poem to recite to my 6th grade class. I chose the bells by Edgar Allen Poe. The moment I said the word bells in the first line of the poem the fire bells began ringing for a drill, it was pretty funny :)

I used to know a lot of Poe's "The Raven," but that is due to "The Simpsons." Evermore!

Edited to fix punctuation. Whether periods are in or out of the quotation marks, they should at least be constant in the same sentence :P

I can't think of anything that I've memorized. Odd.

"Four score and seven years ago, our forefathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the idea that all men are created equal..." Can't remember the rest, but I had the whole Gettysberg address memorized in late elementary school recited it dressed up as Lincoln in front of the whole class. My teacher was so impressed she had me do it about five times for different groups of people including the principle.

The sons of the prophet are brave men and bold,
And quite unaccustomed to fear;
But the bravest by far in the ranks of the Shah
Was Abdul Abubul Amir.

If you wanted a man to encourage the van
Or harass the foe from the rear,
Storm fort or redoubt, you had only to shout,
For Abdul Abubul Amir!

Now the heroes were plenty and well known to fame
In the troops that were led by the Czar,
And the bravest of these was a man by the name
Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

One day this bold Russian he shouldered his gun,
And donned his most truculent sneer;
Downtown he did go where he trod on the toe
Of Abdul Abubul Amir.

"Young man," quoth Abdul, "Has life grown so dull,
That you wish to end your career?
Vile infidel know, you have trod on the toe,
Of Abdul Abubul Amir!

So take your last look at the sunshine and brook
And send your regrets to the Czar;
For by this I imply you are going to die,
Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar!"

Then this bold Mameluke drew his trusty skibouk,
Singing, "Allah! Il Allah A-llah!"
Then with murderous intent he ferociously went
For Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

They parried and thrust; they side stepped and cussed,
Of blood they spilled a great part.
The philologist blokes, who seldom crack jokes,
Say that hash was first made on the spot.

They fought all that night 'neath the pale yellow moon
The din, it was heard from afar.
And huge multitudes came, so great was the fame
Of Abdul and Ivan Skavar.

As Abdul's long knife was extracting the life,
In fact he was shouting, "Huzzah!"
He felt himself struck by that wily Calmuck
Count Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

The sultan drove by in his red-breasted fly
Expecting the victor to cheer.
But he only drew nigh to hear the last sigh
Of Abdul Abubul Amir.

There's a tomb rises up where the blue Danube rolls
And graved there in characters clear
Is, "Stranger, when passing, please pray for the soul
Of Abdul Abubul Amir."

A splash in the Black Sea one dark moonless night
Caused ripples to spread wide and far.
It was made by a sack, fitting close to the back,
Of Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

A Muscovite maiden her lone vigil keeps
'Neath the light of the cold northern star.
And the name that she whispers in vain as she weeps
Is Ivan Skavinsky Skavar.

Of course, this was something I memorized of my own accord, so I'm not sure if it completely counts. ;)
I hope I got the grammar right, I didn't always remember where the semicolons and commas were supposed to be put here...

Oooh impressive cat. You might outlongpost MrA!

Let's see one from the poetry book my parents read to us:
(I think the moon and sea imagery in Cat's made me think of this)

Moonsong

Zoon Zoon cuddle and croon
Over the crinkling sea
The moon man flings him a silver net
Fashioned of moonbeams three

And some folk say when the net lies long
And the midnight hour is ripe;
The moon man fishes for some old song
That fell from a sailor's pipe.

And some folk say that he fishes the bars
Down where the dead ships lie,
Looking for lost little baby stars
That slid from the slippery sky.

And the waves roll out and the waves roll in
And the nodding night wind blows,
But why the moon man fishes the sea
Only the moon man knows.

Zoon, zoon, net of the moon
Rides on the wrinkling sea;
Bright is the fret and shining wet,
Fashioned of moonbeams three.

And some folk say when the great net gleams
And the waves are dusky blue,
The moon man fishes for two little dreams
He lost when the world was new.

And some folk say in the late night hours,
While the long fin-shadows slide,
The moon man fishes for cold sea flowers
Under the tumbling tide.

And the waves roll out and the waves roll in
And the gray gulls dip and doze,
But why the moon man fishes the sea
Only the moon man knows.

Zoon, zoon, cuddle and croon--
Over the crinkling sea,
The moon man flings him a silvered net
Fashioned of moonbeams three.

And some folk say that he follows the flecks
Down where the last light flows,
Fishing for two round gold-rimmed "specs"
That blew from his button-like nose.

And some folk say while the salt sea foams
And the silver net lines snare,
The moon man fishes for carven combs
That float from the mermaids' hair.

And the waves roll out and the waves roll in
And the nodding night wind blows,
But why the moon man fishes the sea
Only the moon man knows.

Okay I had some of the stanzas in the wrong order when I went to check this one and look up the author who is Mildred Plew Meigs

Mildred Plew Meigs? Is that a name or an anagram?

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 sleep to say we end the heartache
and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.
Tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.
To die, 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.

ok that about it. Not poetry per se i know, but one of the few things i can actually retain in my colander noggin.

also
hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium, boron, carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine, neon... darn that's all i can remember.

Um, i can count to 8 in japanese...

no poetry in my soul. I'll shut up now.

Only 8, MrA. I can count to 10.

Ichi
Ni
San
Shi
Go
Rouku
Shichi
Hachi
Kyu
Ju

(I can spell them though. Thank goodness for the Internet!)

Weird, I was thinking about this the other day. In third grade there were two "poems" I had to memorize, "Tyger, tyger burning bright" was one, I don't remember all of it though and the other "poem" was "I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream." (Seriously, it was in our textbook!) Anyway, the only poems I had to memorize after that were always set to music, this was my favorite, which I performed my senior year of high school:

Music when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory.
Odours when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quickin.
Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heap'd o'er then beloved's bed.
And so, my love when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

The poem was by Shelley, the song was beautiful.

Song

Go and catch a falling star,
Get with child a mandrake root,
Tell me where all the past years are
Or who cleft the Devil's foot,
Teach me to hear mermaids' singing
Or to keep off envy's stinging
And find
What wind
Serves to advance an honest mind.

If thou beest born to strange sights
Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand days and nights
Till age snow white hairs on thee.
Thou, when thou returnest,
Will tell me what thou findest
And swear
Nowhere
Lives a woman true, and fair.

I can't remember the last stanza, but I had to recite that for a Lit class. Also, Foggi will know what I've messed up.

ETA: The poet is John Donne.

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper

Still gives me chills every time. Oh, and

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

Yeats rules.

I memorized a lot of Robert Frost for a while there . . . let's see:

Two roads divide in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
For it was grassy and wanted wear --
Though, as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day,
Yet, knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh,
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads divide in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I didn't bother to look it up and check how accurate I was, so punctuation there is a bit hit-and-miss -- I'm just surprised that I could remember the whole thing!

let's see, poetry i memorised as a child:

Roses are red,
Violet's are blue,
You look like a monkey,
And you smell like one too!

A cousin who took elocution lessons (long ago!) had a recitation that included "Let me carry the basket Mother, I am stronger than thou." My husband and I still use that phrase when it comes in handy for transferring a bundle, bag or box.

Reena and her friends recite shel silverstein poems every year for their school (the homeschooling cooperative)'s talent show.

28: beautiful, MrA. It brings a tear to my eye. Oh, wait, that is allergies.

kik.

All I can remember from Uncle Shelby are my ABZs.

X is for xylophone because X is always for Xylophone

What did the carrot say to the wheat?
"Lettuce rest, I'm feeling beet!"
What did the paper say to the pen?
"I feel quite all write, my friend."
What did the teapot say to the chalk?
. . . Nothing, you silly! Teapots can't talk!

Ah, Shel Silverstein. Good memories.

(Edited to fix HTML tags)

I'm pretty sure that one of the books talked about in inkheart is a shel silverstein

The following has a musical accompaniament, and should be read aloud with a lancashire accent. I had to learn and perform it a my primary school for our headmaster's retirement party. I've only ever met two other people who know it as well as I do!

There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.

A grand little lad was young Albert
All dressed in his best - quite a swell-
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle,
The finest that Woolworths could sell.

Well they didn't think much of the ocean,
The waves, they was fiddlin' and small.
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded -
'Fact nothin' to laugh at at all.

So seeking for further amusement
They paid and went into the zoo
Where they'd lions and tigers and camels,
And old ale and sandwiches too.

There were one great big lion called Wallace
Whose nose were all covered in scars.
He lay in a somnulent posture
Wit' side of his face on the bars.

Now Albert had heard about lions -
How they was ferocious and wild -
And to see Wallace lying so peaceful,
Well it didn't seem right to the child.

So straight way the brave little fella'
(Not showing a morsel of fear)
Took his stick with the horse's head handle
And poked it in wallace's ear.

You could see that the lion didn't like it
For, giving a kind of a roll,
He pulled Albert inside the cage with him
And swallowed the little lad whole.

Now Pa, who had seen the occurence
And didn't know what to do next,
Said "Mother, yon lion's ate Albert"
And Mother said "Well I am vexed".

They went to the animal keeper
Who said "What a nasty mishap.
You are sure that it's your boy he's eaten?"
Pa said "Am I sure - there's his cap!"

The manager had to be sent for,
He came and he said "What's to do?"
Ma said "Yon lion's ate Albert,
And 'im in 'is Sunday clothes too!"

Father said "Right's right young fella,
I think it's a shame and a sin
For a lion to go and eat Albert.
And after we've paid to come in!"

The manager wanted no trouble.
He took out his purse right away,
Saying "How much to settle the matter?"
Pa said "What d'you usually pay?"

But Mother had turned a bit awkward.
When she thought where her Albert had gone
She said "No, someone's got to be summonsed!"
so that was decided upon.

So off the went to the p'lice station
Infront of the magistrate chap.
They told him what happened to Albert
And proved it by showing his cap.

The magistrate gave his opinion
that no-one was really to blame
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms
Would have further sons to their name.

At that Mother got proper blazin'
"And thank you sir kindly!" said she,
"What? spend all my life raising children
To feed ruddy lions? Not me!"

I thank you.

*WILD APPLAUSE!*

*applauds*
That was really impressive, Lady! Wow!

Lovely, LadyN! I was brought up on Albert and the Lion (on a 7" 78rpm record on our wind-up gramophone)

I think there are huge benefits in learning lots of poetry by heart in one's youth. It goes in easily and sticks and I am convinced that it doesn't occupy space you later need for remembering where you put your keys, etc.

John Mortimer's Rumpole of the Bailey was a great one for quoting from the Oxford Book of English Verse - the Quiller-Couch edition, of course - and, in real life, the 19 year-old Patrick Leigh Fermor walked across Europe -A Time of Gifts - declaiming the verse he'd learned at school.

I wish I'd learned more - it's MUCH more difficult at my age. The things that have stuck are very British public school like: "There's a breathless hush in the close tonight...." or "Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note..." or "Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole..."

I wish there was more Keats and Browning, and yes, #26 ellevee, Yeats.

Hickory dickory dock
The mouse ran up the clock
The clock struck one
And down he run
Hickory dickory dock.

That never sounds right to me...

That's brilliant LadyN!

Oh, gosh. We memorized 12-15 poems a year at my high school. Some of my favorites (all of which I still know word for word): "If" by Rudyard Kipling, "Stars" by Sara Teasdale, "Ozymandius" by Percy Bysshe Shelley, "Death Be Not Proud" by John Donne, "The Road Not Taken" and "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost, "The Village Blacksmith" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" by William Wordsworth just to name a few. I think my all-time favorite was Mark Antony's speech from Shakespeare's Julius Caesar:

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears:
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answered it.
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest --
For Brutus is an honorable man;
So are they all, all honorable men --
Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
When that the poor had cried, Caesar hath wept.
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honorable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment! Thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason! Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

How about some lovely Ogden Nash?

I never saw a purple cow
I never hope to see one
But I can tell you anyhow
I'd rather see than be one.

I have a few that I have had memorized since middle school...

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.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

--Robert Frost "Nothing Gold can Stay"

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

--Shel Silverstein "Where the Sidewalk Ends"

and last but not least

Dim vales- and shadowy floods-
And cloudy-looking woods,
Whose forms we can't discover
For the tears that drip all over!
Huge moons there wax and wane-
Again- again- again-
Every moment of the night-
Forever changing places-
And they put out the star-light
With the breath from their pale faces.
About twelve by the moon-dial,
One more filmy than the rest
(A kind which, upon trial,
They have found to be the best)
Comes down- still down- and down,
With its centre on the crown
Of a mountain's eminence,
While its wide circumference
In easy drapery falls
Over hamlets, over halls,
Wherever they may be-
O'er the strange woods- o'er the sea-
Over spirits on the wing-
Over every drowsy thing-
And buries them up quite
In a labyrinth of light-
And then, how deep!- O, deep!
Is the passion of their sleep.
In the morning they arise,
And their moony covering
Is soaring in the skies,
With the tempests as they toss,
Like- almost anything-
Or a yellow Albatross.
They use that moon no more
For the same end as before-
Videlicet, a tent-
Which I think extravagant:
Its atomies, however,
Into a shower dissever,
Of which those butterflies
Of Earth, who seek the skies,
And so come down again,
(Never-contented things!)
Have brought a specimen
Upon their quivering wings.

--Edgar Allen Poe "Fairy-Land"

</i>I love sharing these things :-)

It opens so many new doors, as well as reminding us of things we may have forgotten...

Edited to close italics on behalf of Bella.

lol.... sorry did i forget to undo the italics! i didnt mean to i swear

You're forgiven ;-)

thank you!

#21, Marensr, OMG, I had that book as a child and only remember it now. I lovedthat when I was little, it was so sleepy and comforting!
As far as my own memorization, I can still remember Russian poems memorized in their entirety--we're talking 3 page long poetic language in Russian, which I can barely speak at this point. I can't even remember the poets' names, but I can recite stanzas I don't even understand.

Lovely, guys. Alas, all i can offer is doggerel and bad jokes, for example re #40:

Hickory Dickory Dock
The mice ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
and the other two escaped with minor injuries.

hahaha MrA

#49 LeesyLou wasn't it great? I still have it but I wish it was in print to give to friends with children. Used copies run in the hundreds of dollars range.

Thanks for the poem MrA!
The six year old did your version for storytelling today. Which was a feat for her since she kept saying minal injuries. One time she tried to correct herself and it came out linal injuries.

#53 - Sweet! Give her a cuddle from me!

midnight rain at #42, I think we must have gone to the same school. And yes, I too can still repeat much Wordsworth, Frost, Dickinson, cummings, and more. Yet what my kids like to hear is the words to the old Pepperidge Farms Goldfish jingle (...the wholesome snack that smiles back until you bite their heads off...:) and
Moses supposes his toeses are roses
But Moses supposes erroneously
For nobody's toeses are posies of roses
As Moses supposes his toeses to be.

But then, nursery rhymes are a slightly different beast.

#53: LOL! They all work :-D

Dear LadyN
I learn't a parody of Albert and the Lion by Marriott Edgar from Radio and Hobbies Australia magazine about 1946 and enjoyed the monologue made famous by Stanley Holloway. Wish I could remember it all.

When Albert got ate by the lion
While playing around at the Zoo
His Ma said, "Yon habits unhealthy
Lets find him some interest new".

Next day his Pa at the station
Saw Radio books in a stack
Said he, "By Gum, That's idea"
And fished in his pocket for zac.

The editor chap said, "It's corker,
Right fine for intelligent lad,
Loudspeaker and all for a fiver,
Amount won't be missed by your Dad".

Albert went down to the parts store
..... .... .... . ... ...
.... ..... .... ...... ...
And paid for it all with Pa's note.

.
.
He burnt holes in Ma's best polished table
And got sticky flux in his hair.
...
..

His Ma said ....
Take your stick with the horses head handle
And go and play at the zoo.

Can anyone help?

Left foot. Right foot. Feet, Feet, Feet. How many, many feet you meet. More and more feet. Twenty-Four feet. Her come more and more...... And more feet!

Dr. Seuss

#57 - Oh great! I don't know that one at all :-)

Oh dear, LadyN. I guess that means you need to go back to school. :o)

I don't remember much of what I learned in class, but I can tell you some of the commercial jingles of the day...

Hold the pickle
Hold the lettuce
Special orders
Won't upset us
Something something
Something something
Have it your way! (OK! Maybe my brain has finally dumped this one!)

And then every Thanksgiving, while watching Mighty Joe Young and King Kong, we heard this one...

I don't wanna grow up!
I'm a Toys R Us kid!
They have a million toys
in store that I can play with!

Maybe if the schools had used jingles more I would remember things I learned better. I will never forget the Preamble to the Constitution or the three table thanks to Schoolhouse Rock. Here's the chorus from one of those classics...

Rockin' and a rollin'
Splishin' and a splashin'
Over the horizon
What can it be?
Looks like its going to be
A free country!

JP the missing lines to that jingle are "all we ask is that you let us serve it your way"

Thank goodness I'm not the only one who has that jingle in their head!

lol JP I remember so many useless obsolete jingles among other trivia its no wonder I can't remember my own phone number

And it's impossible to dump those old jingles because they were so darn catchy.
Here's another that just popped into my head. I've never even used this shampoo:

Squeeze!
And go from flat to fluffy
Squeeze!
With Prell concentrate
Squeeze!
And go from flat to fluffy
Squeeze!
And you're gonna look great!

Do they even make Prell anymore?

I'm not sure, but I found some of the commercials for it from the seventies. Some are unintentionally hilarious!

I learned this cheery bit in the fifth grade.

"WRECK OF THE HESPERUS"
It was the schooner Hesperus,
That sailed the wintery sea;
And the skipper had taken his little daughter,
To bear him company.

Blue were her eyes as the fairy flax,
Her cheeks like the dawn of day,
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds,
That ope in the month of May.

The Skipper he stood beside the helm,
His pipe was in his mouth,
And he watched how the veering flaw did blow
The smoke now West, now South.

Then up and spake an old Sailor,
Had sailed the Spanish Main,
"I pray thee, put into yonder port,
for I fear a hurricane.

"Last night the moon had a golden ring,
And to-night no moon we see!"
The skipper, he blew whiff from his pipe,
And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind,
A gale from the Northeast,
The snow fell hissing in the brine,
And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amain
The vessel in its strength;
She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,
Then leaped her cable's length.

"Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,
And do not tremble so;
For I can weather the roughest gale
That ever wind did blow."

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat
Against the stinging blast;
He cut a rope from a broken spar,
And bound her to the mast.

"O father! I hear the church bells ring,
Oh, say, what may it be?"
"Tis a fog-bell on a rock bound coast!" --
And he steered for the open sea.

"O father! I hear the sound of guns;
Oh, say, what may it be?"
Some ship in distress, that cannot live
In such an angry sea!"

"O father! I see a gleaming light.
Oh say, what may it be?"
But the father answered never a word,
A frozen corpse was he.

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
With his face turned to the skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow
On his fixed and glassy eyes.

Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed
That saved she might be;
And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave,
On the Lake of Galilee.

And fast through the midnight dark and drear,
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
Tow'rds the reef of Norman's Woe.

And ever the fitful gusts between
A sound came from the land;
It was the sound of the trampling surf,
On the rocks and hard sea-sand.

The breakers were right beneath her bows,
She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew
Like icicles from her deck.

She struck where the white and fleecy waves
Looked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks, they gored her side
Like the horns of an angry bull.

Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,
With the masts went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank,
Ho! ho! the breakers roared!

At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,
A fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair,
Lashed close to a drifting mast.

The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;
And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed,
On the billows fall and rise.

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,
In the midnight and the snow!
Christ save us all from a death like this,
On the reef of Norman's Woe!

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

There once was an elephant
Who tried to use a telephant
No, no, I mean an elephone
Who tried to use a telephone.

Dear me, I'm not sure quite
That even now I've got it right!
How 'ere it was he got his trunk
entangled in the telephunk.

The more he tried to get it free
The louder buzzed the telephee.
I fear I'd better drop this song
of elehop and telehong.

I learned this one in 5th grade in an attempt to meet a classroom requirement for reciting poetry in front of the class....my teacher was not amused.

#67 *wild applause!!!*

The boy stood on the burning deck,
his pockets full of crackers...

*snort*

I just wish I had more of these. My aunt can recite practically every poem in the Oxford Book of English Verse, stacks of Shakey and every date historians every thought was important, but then she's a genius and also grew up in the days when reciting things counted as two-thirds of what you did in school. I'm very upset that @ellevee beat me to it with The Second Coming, one of the few I can recite (on good days) but I'll throw in this one - also under the "Yeats rocks" heading:


When you are old and grey and full of sleep
And, nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read and dream of the soft look
Your eyes once had, and of their shadows deep,

How many loved your moments of glad grace
And loved yor 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 moountains overhead
And hid his face amiong a crowd of stars.

Then there's this by Leigh Hunt:

Jenny kissed me when we met
Jumping from the chair she sat in.
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and wealth have missed me.
Say I'm growing old, but add,
Jenny kissed me.

And my all time party piece:

The owl and the pussycat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat.
They took some honey and plenty of money
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.
The owl looked up to the stars above
And sang to a small guitar,
"Oh lovely pussy, oh pussy my love,
What a beautiful pussy you are".

Pussy said to the owl, "You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing!
Oh let us be married; too long we have tarried,
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away for a year and a day
To the land where the bong-tree grows
And there in a wood, a piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Oh, pig, are you willing to sell, for one shilling,
Your ring?" Said the piggy, "I will."
So they took it away and were married next day
By the turkey who lived on the hill.
They dined on mince and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon.
Then hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon.

Booksloth, I love The Owl and the Pussycat. Thanks for the full text. I am saving it to show my wife.

#70 I suppose you know the rest of it about the spark and the damage it did.

A WATTLE POEM.
The wattle has inspired many Australian poets, from Henry Kendall, and Adam Lindsay Gordon downwards, but it is very interesting to notice that one of the prettiest poems about our national flower was written by one - Miss Veronica Mason - who, though a Lancashire girl by birth learned to know and love the wattle during her residence in Tasmania. Here is her poem:-

The bush was grey
A week to-day
(Olive-green and brown and grey);
But now the spring has come this way,
With blossoms for the wattle.

It seems to be
A fairy tree;
It dances to a melody,
And sings a little song to me
(The graceful, swaying wattle):

See how it weaves
Its feathery sheaves:
Before the wind, a maze it weaves,
A misty whirl of powdery leaves -
(The dainty, curtseying wattle):

Its boughs uplift
An elfin gift;
A spray of yellow, downy drift,
Through which the sunbeams shine,and sift
their gold-dust o'er the wattle.

The bush was grey a week to-day
(olive-green and brown and grey);
But now its sunny all the way,
For, oh! the spring has come to stay,
With blossom for the wattle!

Extract from The Hobart Mercury page 6
11th September 1912.

"But give me now the chalk with which
You write the baseball score:
Iʻll DRAW the lovely Madleine
Upon the Bar-room floor."

--The Face on the Floor" (folk poem)
(sometimes incorrectly titled "The Face on the Bar-room Floor" --the only composition I know of where the
incorrect title is longer than the correct one.

#73 You're welcome!

Last night as I lay on the praire,
And looked at the stars in the sky.
I wondered if ever a cowboy could drift to that sweet by and by.

The road to that bright, happy region
Is a dim, narrow trail, so they say.
But the broad one that leads to perdition
Is posted and blazed all the way.

They say there will be a great round-up
And cowboys like dogies will stand,
To be marked by the riders of judgement
Who are posted and know every brand.

I know there's many a stray cowboy
Who'll be lost at that great, final sale,
When he might have gone to green pastures,
Had he known of the the dim narrow trail.

I wonder if ever a cowboy
Stood ready for that Judgement day
And could say to the Boss of the riders,
"I'm ready, come drive me away."

For they, like the cows that are locoed,
Stampede at the sight of a hand,
And are dragged with a rope to the round-up,
Or get marked with some crooked man's brand.

And I'm scared I'll be a stray yearling,
A maverick unbranded on high.
And get cut in the bunch with the "rusties"
When the Boss of the riders goes by.

For they tell of another big owner
Who's ne'er overstocked, so they say.
But who always makes room for the sinner Who drifts from the straight narrow way.

They say he will never forget you,
That he knows every action and look.
So, for safety you'd better get branded. Have your name in the great talley-book.

The Cowboy's Dream

Charles Finger

(I fudged and looked at my book in fairness to the poem. I found I had left out some.)

I've had this poem since I was a kid, long before we moved out west. But this is exactly what it feels like to see the night sky from the desert.

sounds awesome!

It's been a while since I have visited this group and have to thank everyone for their poems. I would like to share the poem I memorised in 4th grade.

Sea Fever by John Masefield

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

Oh, thank you mamzel, I love Sea Fever! I can recite the first and last verses of that one but always forget what comes in between.

The schoolhouse rock preamble song...

"We the people...
In order to form a more perfect un-ion
Establish justice, ensure domestic tranquilityyy-eee-eee-eee!
Provide for the common defense
Promote the general welfare ah-and
Secure the blessings of liberty
To ourselves and our posterity
Do ordain and esta-ah-ah-blish this Constitution
For-or the
United States uh-of America-uh!
For-or the
United States of America!

That's it! Oh darn... now its stuck in my head...

we had to learn that without benifit of the schoolhouse rock.

I remember I only had to remember one line to ace the history exam on the Preamble thanks to Schoolhouse Rock. (FYI: It should be "We the People of the United States of America...")