Best Loved Poems Lyrics

but, first...
Welcome
Everyone

I've been writing verses
For 60 years...phew!
And d'yer know why I did it?
T'was especially for you

Jon Bratton

Best Loved Poems Lyrics brings you a selection of the World's favorite poetry verses. Here's a short wise one by by Benjamin Franklin
An Open foe may prove a curse,
But a pretended friend is worse.

Tomorrow I'll reform, the fool does say.
Today's too late. The wise did yesterday.

Quarrels never could last long
If on one side were all the wrong.

Little strokes
Fell great oaks.

What is a butterfly? At best
He's but a caterpillar dressed.

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This is a modern rendering of the concept beautifully put by Mary Stevenson, which follows 

Footprints in the Sand

by Mary Stevenson

One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonging to him, and the other to the Lord. When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints.He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life. This really bothered him and he questioned the Lord about it. "Lord, You said that once I decided to follow you, You'd walk with me all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when I needed you most you would leave me." The Lord replied, "My son, My precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I Carried You."

Best Loved Poems Lyrics
Welcome to our Best Loved Verses Page

Desiderata

Max Ehrmann, Copyright 1952.

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story. 
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism. 

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass. 

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself. 

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. 

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. 

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

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Best Loved Poems Lyrics

The LORD Is My Shepherd

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green [ pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

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Best Loved Poems Lyrics

Best Loved Poems Lyrics

If 
By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son! 

Rudyard Kipling 

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Best Loved Poems Lyrics

Miss Me But Let Me Go

When I come to the end of the road 
And the sun has set for me 
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room.
Why cry for a soul set free? 

Miss me a little--but not too long 
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared,
Miss me--but let me go.

For this is a journey that we all must take 
And each must go alone. 
It's all a part of the Master's plan,
A step on the road to home. 

When you are lonely and sick of heart 
Go to the friends we know 
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds.
Miss Me--But Let me Go! 

Best Loved Poems Lyrics

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Best Loved Poems Lyrics

T'was the night before Christmas

T'was the night before Christmas, 
when all through the house 
Not a creature was stirring, --not even a mouse; 
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, 
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds, 
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads; 
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, 

Had just settled down for a long winter's nap, 
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. 
Away to the window I flew like a flash, 
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below, 
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, 
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer, 

With a little old driver, so lively and quick, 
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; 
"Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN! 
On, COMET! on CUPID! on, DONDER and BLITZEN! 
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall! 
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!" 

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly, 
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew, 
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof 
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof. 
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around, 
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; 
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, 
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack. 

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! 
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow, 
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow; 
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, 
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, 
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself; 
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, 
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread; 
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk, 
And laying his finger aside of his nose, 
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose; 
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. 
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight, 
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT."

Clement Clark Moore

Best Loved Poems Lyrics

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Best Loved Poems Lyrics

IN FLANDERS FIELDS 

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow 
Between the crosses row on row, 
That mark our place; and in the sky 
The larks, still bravely singing, fly 
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago 
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, 
Loved and were loved, and now we lie 
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe: 
To you from failing hands we throw 
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die 
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow 
In Flanders fields. 

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Best Loved Poems Lyrics

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Best Loved Poems Lyrics

Love is patient, Love is kind,
It does not envy, it does not boast,
It is not proud, It is not rude,
It is not self-seeking,
It is not easily angered,
It keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil,
but rejoices with the truth.

Love always protects, always trusts,
always hopes, always perseveres.

Love bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never ends.

L o v e N e v e r F a i l s.

Corinthians 13 : 4 - 8 

Best Loved Poems Lyrics

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This Best Loved Poems Lyrics Collection is ongoing. We will continue to seek new entries for the best loved poems lyrics so if your best loved poems lyrics are not currently here, they may be added in time

Best Loved Poems Lyrics

The Charge of the Light Brigade
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Half a league, half a league, 
Half a league onward, 
All in the valley of Death 
Rode the six hundred. 
"Forward, the Light Brigade! 
Charge for the guns!" he said: 
Into the valley of Death 
Rode the six hundred. 

"Forward, the Light Brigade!" 
Was there a man dismayed? 
Not though the soldier knew 
Some one had blundered: 
Their's not to make reply, 
Their's not to reason why, 
Their's but to do and die: 
Into the valley of Death 
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon in front of them 
Volleyed and thundered; 
Stormed at with shot and shell, 
Boldly they rode and well, 
Into the jaws of Death, 
Into the mouth of Hell 
Rode the six hundred.

Flashed all their sabres bare, 
Flashed as they turned in air 
Sabring the gunners there, 
Charging an army, while 
All the world wondered: 
Plunged in the battery-smoke 
Right through the line they broke; 
Cossack and Russian 
Reeled from the sabre-stroke 
Shattered and sundered. 
Then they rode back, but not, 
Not the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon behind them 
Volleyed and thundered; 
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell, 
They that had fought so well 
Came through the jaws of Death 
Back from the mouth of Hell, 
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred. 

When can their glory fade? 
O the wild charge they made! 
All the world wondered. 
Honour the charge they made! 
Honour the Light Brigade, 
Noble six hundred! 

Best Loved Poems Lyrics

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Best Loved Poems Lyrics

Mondays child is fair of face,
Tuesdays child is full of grace,
Wednesdays child is full of woe,
Thursdays child has far to go,
Fridays child is loving and giving,
Saturdays child works hard for his living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay

Best Loved Poems Lyrics

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Best Loved Poems Lyrics 

These lyrics were based on an established joke and this second video has the joke words as the narration and is included here for the excellent animation. Here's what I do. Start the first video...then almost immediately the second one. Turn off the sound on the second one. Watch it while listening to the song on the first. They are almost perfectly in sync

Dear Sir I write this note to you to tell you of my plight
For at the time of writing I am not a pretty sight
My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly grey
And I write this note to say why Paddy's not at work today.

Whilst working on the fourteenth floor,some bricks I had to clear
To throw them down from such a height was not a good idea
The foreman wasn't very pleased, the bloody awkward sod
He said I had to cart them down the ladders in my hod.

Now clearing all these bricks by hand, it was so very slow
So I hoisted up a barrel and secured the rope below
But in my haste to do the job, I was too blind to see
That a barrel full of building bricks was heavier than me.

And so when I untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead
And clinging tightly to the rope I started up instead
I shot up like a rocket till to my dismay I found
That half way up I met the bloody barrel coming down.

Well the barrel broke my shoulder, as to the ground it sped
And when I reached the top I banged the pulley with my head
I clung on tightly, numb with shock, from this almighty blow
And the barrel spilled out half the bricks, fourteen floors below.

Now when these bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor
I then outweighed the barrel and so started down once more
Still clinging tightly to the rope, my body racked with pain
When half way down, I met the bloody barrel once again.

The force of this collision, half way up the office block
Caused multiple abrasions and a nasty state of shock
Still clinging tightly to the rope I fell towards the ground
And I landed on the broken bricks the barrel scattered round.

I lay there groaning on the ground I thought I'd passed the worst
But the barrel hit the pulley wheel, and then the bottom burst
A shower of bricks rained down on me, I hadn't got a hope
As I lay there bleeding on the ground, I let go the bloody rope.

The barrel then being heavier then started down once more
And landed right across me as I lay upon the floor
It broke three ribs, and my left arm, and I can only say
That I hope you'll understand why Paddy's not at work today.

... to the tune of THE GARDEN WHERE THE PRATIES GROW.

Alternative Titles:

WHY PADDY'S NOT AT WORK TODAY
THE BRICKLAYERS SONG
DEAR BOSS
PADDY AND THE BARREL
MURPHY AND THE BRICKS

The song was composed and first performed by the author in Coventry in 1969 and is registered with THE PERFORMING RIGHTS SOCIETY in London under it's orginal title THE SICK NOTE and all the above alternative titles.

The Sick Note copyright of the original writer, PAT COOKSEY. Words based on a pre-existing joke

That's all the Best Loved Poems Lyrics we have...for now 

These lyrics were based on an established joke and this second video has the joke words as the narration and is included here for the excellent animation. Here's what I do. Start the first video...then almost immediately the second one. Turn off the sound on the second one. Watch it while listening to the song on the first. They are almost perfectly in sync

Dear Sir I write this note to you to tell you of my plight
For at the time of writing I am not a pretty sight
My body is all black and blue, my face a deathly grey
And I write this note to say why Paddy's not at work today.

Whilst working on the fourteenth floor,some bricks I had to clear
To throw them down from such a height was not a good idea
The foreman wasn't very pleased, the bloody awkward sod
He said I had to cart them down the ladders in my hod.

Now clearing all these bricks by hand, it was so very slow
So I hoisted up a barrel and secured the rope below
But in my haste to do the job, I was too blind to see
That a barrel full of building bricks was heavier than me.

And so when I untied the rope, the barrel fell like lead
And clinging tightly to the rope I started up instead
I shot up like a rocket till to my dismay I found
That half way up I met the bloody barrel coming down.

Well the barrel broke my shoulder, as to the ground it sped
And when I reached the top I banged the pulley with my head
I clung on tightly, numb with shock, from this almighty blow
And the barrel spilled out half the bricks, fourteen floors below.

Now when these bricks had fallen from the barrel to the floor
I then outweighed the barrel and so started down once more
Still clinging tightly to the rope, my body racked with pain
When half way down, I met the bloody barrel once again.

The force of this collision, half way up the office block
Caused multiple abrasions and a nasty state of shock
Still clinging tightly to the rope I fell towards the ground
And I landed on the broken bricks the barrel scattered round.

I lay there groaning on the ground I thought I'd passed the worst
But the barrel hit the pulley wheel, and then the bottom burst
A shower of bricks rained down on me, I hadn't got a hope
As I lay there bleeding on the ground, I let go the bloody rope.

The barrel then being heavier then started down once more
And landed right across me as I lay upon the floor
It broke three ribs, and my left arm, and I can only say
That I hope you'll understand why Paddy's not at work today.

... to the tune of THE GARDEN WHERE THE PRATIES GROW.

Alternative Titles:

WHY PADDY'S NOT AT WORK TODAY
THE BRICKLAYERS SONG
DEAR BOSS
PADDY AND THE BARREL
MURPHY AND THE BRICKS

The song was composed and first performed by the author in Coventry in 1969 and is registered with THE PERFORMING RIGHTS SOCIETY in London under it's orginal title THE SICK NOTE and all the above alternative titles.

The Sick Note copyright of the original writer, PAT COOKSEY. Words based on a pre-existing joke

That's all the Best Loved Poems Lyrics we have...for now 

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