Quotes about pirate, page 5

Jim Jones

1. come and listen for a moment, lads,
And hear me tell my tale.
How across the sea from england
I was condemned to sail.
Now the jury found me guilty,
Then says the judge, says he,
Oh, for life, jim jones, Im sending you
Across the stormy sea.
But take a tip before you ship
To join the iron gang.
Dont get too gay in botany bay,
Or else youll surely hang.
Or else youll surely hang, says he.
And after that, jim jones,
Its high above on the gallows tree
The crows will pick your bones.
2. and our ship was high upon the sea
Then pirates came along,
But the soldiers on our convict ship
Were full five hundred strong.

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song performed by Bob Dylan
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Two In A One (Pablo & Gunslinger)

Chorus
Intelligent, we chat intelligent
Intelligent, we chat intelligent
Intelligent, we chat intelligent
Intelligent, we chat intelligent
Jackpot is when you win plenty at money
Jail is a place I don't want to go
January the first month of the year
Jealose is when five women fancy
But John is the proper name fe a English man
Jockey is a profisnel horse rider
Me sah June is the sixth mounth of the year
Chorus
An jam is when you caint move in a party
Mi say England is a place that covered in snow
Man we drink the ribeana wi don't no like drink beer
But Jelly fish Jahman mi say them swim in a the sea
Unless you born an bread as a Jamaican
The pirate them a gather round the Jolly Roger
Wi wackad as single but wi deadly as a pair

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song performed by Ub40
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The Pirate Of Penance

Penance crane:
The pirate anchored on a wednesday
And why he came to port I wonder
To see a lady so my friends say
She dances for the sailors
In a smoky cabaret bar underground
Down in a cellar in a harbor town
I know he told her love was treasure
And they would reap the fullest bounty
He only comes to port for pleasure
So when the winds of morning
Blew the curtains in she woke and found hed gone
I saw his sails unfurling thursday dawn
The pirate he will sink you with a kiss
Hell steal your heart and sail away
The dancer:
Saturday early we met in the cove near the forest
Penance:
Hell leave you drowning in the flotsam of a broken promise in the bay
The dancer:

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song performed by Joni Mitchell
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Vs Version

Dais a de start and not the finish na go deal it with ace
I like to ride up in the ridim wid de treble and the base
Not a courtroom could a hold me cause they wouldn't have a case
So don't you hurry don't rush me no in a no haste
Me na go chat dais one fast ca a no race me a race
Cas sis v de pan de mike I beg you keep up the pace
And who a star wid mr t it's hannibal, murdock and face
I'm sure you noticed on the mike that I am in the right place
I'm gonna chat it in a style and chat it in a grace
Eat good food drink good you know thats to my taste
Now make sure eat it drink it all off na make none go to waste
And who's aeoberti upon falcon crest you know him a chase
Se that the top of the crew sis v I may seem
See that me deal wid realism get guided by all my dream
Now rasberry ripple as you know it is my favourite ice-cream
So when me step in a de dance in my gear I just gleam
I am the top mile women thats why i'm standing so keen
Don't wa fe hear no pirate chat ca dem no in a my team
Se dat me de pan level vibes so chatting this i'm the queen
Why don't you shake a leg why don't you rock and come in

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song performed by Ub40
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Some Account of a New Play

'The play's the thing!'-- Hamlet.

Tavistock Hotel, Nov. 1839.
Dear Charles,
-- In reply to your letter, and Fanny's,
Lord Brougham, it appears, isn't dead,-- though Queen Anne is;
'Twas a 'plot' and a 'farce'-- you hate farces, you say --
Take another 'plot,' then, viz. the plot of a Play.

The Countess of Arundel, high in degree,
As a lady possess'd of an earldom in fee,
Was imprudent enough at fifteen years of age,
A period of life when we're not over sage,
To form a liaison -- in fact, to engage
Her hand to a Hop-o'-my-thumb of a Page.
This put her Papa --
She had no Mamma --
As may well be supposed, in a deuce of a rage.

Mr. Benjamin Franklin was wont to repeat,

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poem by Richard Harris Barham
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The Lord of the Isles: Canto III.

I.
Hast thou not mark'd, when o'er thy startled head
Sudden and deep the thunder-peal has roll'd,
How when its echoes fell, a silence dead
Sunk on the wood, the meadow, and the wold?
The rye-glass shakes not on the sod-built fold,
The rustling aspen's leaves are mute and still,
The wall-flower waves not on the ruin'd hold,
Till, murmuring distant first, then near and shrill,
The savage whirlwind wakes, and sweeps the groaning hill.

II.
Artornish! such a silence sunk
Upon thy halls, when that grey Monk
His prophet-speech had spoke;
And his obedient brethren's sail
Was stretch'd to meet the southern gale
Before a whisper woke.
Then murmuring sounds of doubt and fear,
Close pour'd in many an anxious ear,

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poem by Sir Walter Scott
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Don Juan: Canto The Fourth

Nothing so difficult as a beginning
In poesy, unless perhaps the end;
For oftentimes when Pegasus seems winning
The race, he sprains a wing, and down we tend,
Like Lucifer when hurl'd from heaven for sinning;
Our sin the same, and hard as his to mend,
Being pride, which leads the mind to soar too far,
Till our own weakness shows us what we are.

But Time, which brings all beings to their level,
And sharp Adversity, will teach at last
Man,- and, as we would hope,- perhaps the devil,
That neither of their intellects are vast:
While youth's hot wishes in our red veins revel,
We know not this- the blood flows on too fast;
But as the torrent widens towards the ocean,
We ponder deeply on each past emotion.

As boy, I thought myself a clever fellow,
And wish'd that others held the same opinion;

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poem by Byron
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Merlin And Vivien

A storm was coming, but the winds were still,
And in the wild woods of Broceliande,
Before an oak, so hollow, huge and old
It looked a tower of ivied masonwork,
At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay.

For he that always bare in bitter grudge
The slights of Arthur and his Table, Mark
The Cornish King, had heard a wandering voice,
A minstrel of Caerlon by strong storm
Blown into shelter at Tintagil, say
That out of naked knightlike purity
Sir Lancelot worshipt no unmarried girl
But the great Queen herself, fought in her name,
Sware by her--vows like theirs, that high in heaven
Love most, but neither marry, nor are given
In marriage, angels of our Lord's report.

He ceased, and then--for Vivien sweetly said
(She sat beside the banquet nearest Mark),

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poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Giaour: A Fragment Of A Turkish Tale

No breath of air to break the wave
That rolls below the Athenian's grave,
That tomb which, gleaming o'er the cliff
First greets the homeward-veering skiff
High o'er the land he saved in vain;
When shall such Hero live again?

Fair clime! where every season smiles
Benignant o'er those blesséd isles,
Which, seen from far Colonna's height,
Make glad the heart that hails the sight,
And lend to lonliness delight.
There mildly dimpling, Ocean's cheek
Reflects the tints of many a peak
Caught by the laughing tides that lave
These Edens of the Eastern wave:
And if at times a transient breeze
Break the blue crystal of the seas,
Or sweep one blossom from the trees,
How welcome is each gentle air

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poem by Byron
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The Giaour

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poem by Byron (1813)
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