Reference Verse/quotation as printed Image Used in patterns Source


The man doomed to sail
With the blast of the gale,
Through billows Atlantic to steer,
As he bends o'er the wave
Which may soon be his grave
Remembers his home with a tear.
  A7894, A8514, A8576, A8735, A9399, A9419, D387 Based on a verse of George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron's poem The Tear, circa 1807.


Far from home across the sea
To foriegn* climes I go,
While far away O think of me,
And I'll remember you.
*Note the spelling mistake!
  A7894, A8621, A8622, A8735, A9281, A9414, A9683, A9688, D1354 Found on early 19th century English ceramics.


He leap'd into the boat,
As it lay upon the strand;
But, oh! his heart was far away,
With friends upon the land,
He thought of those he lov'd the best
A wife and infant dear;
And feeling fill'd the sailor's breast
The sailor's eye - a tear.
  A7968, A8621,  A8622, A8709, A9398 Found on early 19th century English ceramics.


The hardy sailor braves the Ocean,
Fearless of the roaring Wind.
Yet his heart, with soft emotion,
Throbs to leave his love behind.
  A8622, A8735
A9283, A9414, A9684, D387, D929
From Act 1 Scene 1 of John O'Keeffe's three-Act opera The Castle of Andalusia, written in 1782.
Fill your cups and banish grief,
Laugh and worldly care despise;
Sorrow ne'er will bring relief.
Joy from drinking will arife
So pour this full and sup it up.
And call for more to fill your cup.
  A8734, A8829, A8904, A8930, A9008, A9010 -
- Dickensian Ladies
Known to have been used on an English pot of 1808, but this verse is probably much earlier.
6V Though wisdom oft has sought me,
I scorned the lore she brought me,
My only books were womens looks,
And folly's all theyv'e taught me.
  A8806, A8829
A9008, A9009
Dickensian Ladies
From Irish poet Thomas Moore (1779-1852) The time I've lost in wooing.

318 and 228

When this you see, remember me
And bear me in your mind;
Let all the World say what they will
Speak of me as you find.

A8829, A9434
A9436, A9442
A9865, D115
D440, D573
D603, D616
D1051, D1088, D1260
Found on early 19th century English ceramics.
8V Friend of my soul this goblet sip,
'Twill chase that pensive tear,
'Tis not so sweet as woman's lip,
But Oh! Tis more sincere.
  A8829, A8834, A8904,A9007, A9008
Dickensian Ladies
A9418, A9685
D560, D1474
From Irish poet Thomas Moore (1779-1852) Friend of my soul - an Anacreontic verse.
The verse is known to have appeared in 1828.
9Q Within this goblet rich and deep.
I cradle all my woes to sleep.
  A9009, A9680 Ode XLV of the Greek Odes of Anacreon, translation by the Irish poet Thomas Moore (1779-1852).
The verse is known to have appeared in 1827.


Women make men love
Love makes them sad
Sadness makes them drink
And drinking sets them mad
  A8834, A9010 Dickensian Ladies Pre-1870.


"In this jug there is good liquor,
Fit for either priest or vicar;
But to drink and not to spill
Will try the utmost of your skill."
  A9010 Dickensian Ladies Pre-1692. A common verse applied to country pottery puzzle jugs.


When round the bowl the jovial crew
The early scenes of youth renew,
Tho' each his fav'rite fair will boast,
This is the universal toast,
May we, when toil and danger's o'er,
Cast anchor on our native shore.
  A8735, A9227,  D281 The last verse of the song The Wandering Sailor as written by Miles Peter Andrews for his 1779 comic opera Summer amusement or An adventure of Margate.



Let the Wealthy & Great,
Roll in Splendour and State,
I envy them not I declare it;
I eat my own Lamb,
My Chickens and Ham,
I shear my own fleece & I wear it
I have lawns I have Bow'rs
I have fruit, I have flow'rs
a lark is my morning Alarmer
So Jolly boys now
Heres God Speed the Plough.
Long Life & Succefs
(Success) to
the farmer.
  D790, D922 Known as God Speed the Plough, this is a version of an anonymous poem or song probably from the 15th century. The verse appears on 17th century pottery such as two-handled mugs and lustre wall plaques.
14V Gur gile mo leanan
Na'n eal' air an t'snamh
Na cobhar nu tuinne,
'S e tilleadh bho'n traigh;
Na'm blath-bhainne buaile,
'S a chuach leis fo bharr,
Na sneached nan gleann dosrach,
G a fhroiseadh mu'n bhla'r.
English translation:
Not the swan on the lake,
Or the foam on the shore,
Can compare with the charms
Of the maid I adore;
Not so white is the new milk
That flows o'er the pail,
Or the snow that is shower'd
From the brow of the vale.
  D1309, D1469, D1470 A Gaelic song from Ross-shire in Scotland, written by Prof Ewen Alaclachlan and published as Ealaidh Ghaoil in 1875.
15V Firm united, let us be,
Rallying round our Liberty.
As a band of brothers join'd
Peace and safety we shall find.
  S1560, S1565 From the American patriotic song Hail, Columbia.
16V Since boxing is a manly game,
And Britons recreation,
By boxing we will raise our fame
'Bove any other nation.
Throw pistols, poniards, swords, aside
And all such deadly tools;
Let boxing be the Britons pride
The science of their schools.
  S1587, S1588 This comes from the song A Boxing we will go, written in 1811 by the highly popular sports journalist Pierce Egan (1772-1849). It was included in his major work on the sport, Boxiana, fully published in 1829.


Sweet, Oh Sweet is that Sensation
Where two hearts in union meet
But the pain of separation
Mingles bitter with the Sweet
  A9227, D927 Recorded on a Sunderland rolling pin and a mug 1820-30.

Let us drink and be merry,
Dance joke and rejoice,
With claret and sherry theorbo and voice!
The changeable world to our joy is unjust
All treasures uncertain
Then down with your dust!
In frolics dispose your pounds, shillings and pence,
For we shall be nothing a hundred years hence

  No known number This is actor & poet Thomas Jordanís 1637 poem Coronemus nos Rosis antequam marcescant


The sailor tosít in stormy seas,
Though far his bark may roam,
Still hears a voice in every breeze,
That wakens thoughts of home.

No known number This comes from a poem called Forget me not by Bernard Barton, known as The Quaker Poet, and published in 1824.


The loss of gold is great,
The loss of time is more,
But losing Christ is such a loss
That no man can restore.

  No known number Found on early 19th century English ceramics.


Christ is my pilot wise
My compass is His Word,
Each storm my soul defies,
While I have such a Lord
22V My true love hath my heart, and I have his,
By just exchange one for the other given,
I hold his dear and mine he cannot miss,
There never was a better bargain driven.
  A9956 A song from Sir Philip Sidneyís Arcadia, completed in 1580.

Note the originalís last line is: There never was a bargain better driven.