Quotes about uncle, page 3
Uncle Ned’s Tale: An Old Dragoon's Story
I OFTEN, musing, wander back to days long since gone by,
And far-off scenes and long-lost forms arise to fancy's eye.
A group familiar now I see, who all but one are fled,—
My mother, sister Jane, myself, and dear old Uncle Ned.
I'll tell you how I see them now. First, mother in her chair
Sits knitting by the parlor fire, with anxious matron air;
My sister Jane, just nine years old, is seated at her feet,
With look demure, as if she, too, were thinking how to meet
The butcher's or the baker's bill,—though not a thought has she
Of aught beside her girlish toys; and next to her I see
Myself, a sturdy lad of twelve,—neglectful of the book
That open lies upon my knee,—my fixed admiring look
At Uncle Ned, upon the left, whose upright, martial mien,
Whose empty sleeve and gray mustache, proclaim what he has been.
My mother I had always loved; my father then was dead;
But 'twas more than love—'twas worship—I felt for Uncle Ned.
Such tales he had of battle-fields,—the victory and the rout,
The ringing cheer, the dying shriek, the loud exulting shout!
And how, forgetting age and wounds, his eye would kindle bright,
When telling of some desperate ride or close and deadly fight!
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poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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As My Uncle Used To Say
I've thought a power on men and things,
As my uncle ust to say,--
And ef folks don't work as they pray, i jings!
W'y, they ain't no use to pray!
Ef you want somepin', and jes dead-set
A-pleadin' fer it with both eyes wet,
And _tears_ won't bring it, w'y, you try _sweat_,
As my uncle ust to say.
They's some don't know their A, B, Cs,
As my uncle ust to say,
And yit don't waste no candle-grease,
Ner whistle their lives away!
But ef they can't write no book, ner rhyme
No ringin' song fer to last all time,
They can blaze the way fer the march sublime,
As my uncle ust to say.
Whoever's Foreman of all things here,
As my uncle ust to say,
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poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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My Uncle Gay
I can not say in a way,
That would for anyone be understood.
But I have an uncle named Gayhall,
Who stands for me very tall.
A minister he is,
With a wife Pamela and two adorable kids.
Well...
They are no longer 'kids'.
Two beautiful women I 'should' say.
Nicole and Tiffany...
Each with a uniqueness,
Anyone can see.
Although my Uncle Gay,
Has been sick of late.
I hate the fact that he's like that.
But what can I do,
Besides pray from my Uncle Gay?
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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Good, Old-Fashioned People
When we hear Uncle Sidney tell
About the long-ago
An' old, old friends he loved so well
When _he_ was young--My-oh!--
Us childern all wish _we'd 'a'_ bin
A-livin' then with Uncle,--so
We could a-kindo' happened in
On them old friends he used to know!--
The good, old-fashioned people--
The hale, hard-working people--
The kindly country people
'At Uncle used to know!
They was God's people, Uncle says,
An' gloried in His name,
An' worked, without no selfishness,
An' loved their neighbers same
As they was kin: An' when they biled
Their tree-molasses, in the Spring,
Er butchered in the Fall, they smiled
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poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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The Story of Joe
Humvee, Humvee far away
Keep my uncle safe I pray
In the desert worlds apart
He is driving with his heart
my uncle in a humvee far away
Towards the city is were they drove
God's plan will yet unfold
Danger lurking everywhere
But Uncle Joe did not care,
Savig lives protecting in a humvee far away
Explosions, screams, blood
the thought of not knowing still stood
when along the road
this tradgey did occur,
a roadside bomb lay on the curb
waiting for its turn
Along the road far away
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poem by Christin Williams
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Uncle Jack
Are you ready for suicide?
Let me run a razor across your throat
You took a child for a ride
Led them down a long and shameful road
It rips my heart out to see you livin
You gave them money in exchange for pain
Youre the monster in the closet
Theyll take your secrets with them to their graves
Locked you away behind cast iron doors
Rather see you dead on the floor
I hope that youre feeling so much pain now
Uncle jack
Can you hear them still screamin?
Broken hearts, broken dreams
Uncle jack
Is your evil still creepin?
Never comin back here again
What were you thinkin, are you human?
Took their innocence and made them slaves
You want forgiveness, youre so sorry
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song performed by Motley Crue
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Me & My Uncle
me and my uncle went a'riden down
From colorado west texas bound
We stopped over in santa fe
The part of being about half way.
Besides it was the hottest part of the day.
We led our ponies into a stall.
Went to a bar, boys.
Bought drinks for all.
Two days in the saddle, my body hurt,
And being summer, took off my shirt,
And tried to wash off some of that dusty dirt.
West texas cowboys, all over town,
With gold and silver, their loaded down.
Just in for round up
You know it seemed a shame
And so my uncle starts a friendly game
Hollow jack, the winner takes the game.
But from the beginning my uncle started to win.
Them texas cowboys they was mad as sin.
Some said he's cheatin'
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song performed by John Denver
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Me My Uncle
Me and my uncle went ariden down
From colorado west texas bound
We stopped over in santa fe
The part of being about half way.
Besides it was the hottest part of the day.
We led our ponies into a stall.
Went to a bar, boys.
Bought drinks for all.
Two days in the saddle, my body hurt,
And being summer, took off my shirt,
And tried to wash off some of that dusty dirt.
West texas cowboys, all over town,
With gold and silver, their loaded down.
Just in for round up
You know it seemed a shame
And so my uncle starts a friendly game
Hollow jack, the winner takes the game.
But from the beginning my uncle started to win.
Them texas cowboys they was mad as sin.
Some said hes cheatin
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song performed by John Denver
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Me & My Uncle
Me and my uncle went ridin down,
South colorado, west texas bound.
We stopped over in santa fe,
That bein the point just about half way,
And you know it was the hottest part of the day.
I took the horses up to the stall,
Went to the barroom, ordered drinks for all.
Three days in the saddle, you know my body hurt,
It bein summer, I took off my shirt,
And I tried to wash off some of that dusty dirt.
When texas cowboys, theys all around,
With liquor and money, they loaded down.
So soon after payday, know it seemed a shame;
You know my uncle, he starts a friendly game,
High-low jack and the winner take the hand.
My uncle starts winnin; cowboys got sore.
One of them called him, and then two more,
Accused him of cheatin; oh no, it couldnt be.
I know my uncle, hes as honest as me,
And Im as honest as a gamblin man can be.
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song performed by Grateful Dead
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Tale XIV
THE STRUGGLES OF CONSCIENCE.
A serious Toyman in the city dwelt,
Who much concern for his religion felt;
Reading, he changed his tenets, read again,
And various questions could with skill maintain;
Papist and Quaker if we set aside,
He had the road of every traveller tried;
There walk'd a while, and on a sudden turn'd
Into some by-way he had just discern'd:
He had a nephew, Fulham: --Fulham went
His Uncle's way, with every turn content;
He saw his pious kinsman's watchful care,
And thought such anxious pains his own might spare,
And he the truth obtain'd, without the toil, might
share.
In fact, young Fulham, though he little read,
Perceived his uncle was by fancy led;
And smiled to see the constant care he took,
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poem by George Crabbe
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