tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post5278174214602431312..comments2024-03-11T16:29:13.619-05:00Comments on Lingwë - Musings of a Fish: A (late) spring harvestJason Fisherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05809154870762268253noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-25443028742747973832013-12-29T13:36:31.679-06:002013-12-29T13:36:31.679-06:00No, I haven't. But this is a good prod for me ...No, I haven't. But this is a good prod for me to go and ask him about it again. :)Jason Fisherhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05809154870762268253noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-42843741849473336122013-12-29T13:35:59.552-06:002013-12-29T13:35:59.552-06:00Jason, have you heard any more about Doug's ed...Jason, have you heard any more about Doug's edition?Unknownhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05137730902179522502noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-38824845291052974532013-12-29T13:35:32.623-06:002013-12-29T13:35:32.623-06:00Jason, have you heard any more about Doug's ed...Jason, have you heard any more about Doug's edition?Unknownhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05137730902179522502noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-82893250607247706072013-11-13T15:33:38.742-06:002013-11-13T15:33:38.742-06:00I have also been trying, unsuccessfully, to find a...I have also been trying, unsuccessfully, to find a copy of the book, so I am excited to hear about this new edition! Hopefully it will be available soon!Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14974210786370204444noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-10207533834112478412013-01-14T15:12:51.333-06:002013-01-14T15:12:51.333-06:00Nice to hear from you, Greg. I think it’s fine to ...Nice to hear from you, Greg. I think it’s fine to post the entire poem here. Since its publication dates from 1918, and its author has been dead a bit longer still, it should be in the public domain in both the U.S. and U.K.Jason Fisherhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05809154870762268253noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-1957352014874089972012-12-26T13:02:48.832-06:002012-12-26T13:02:48.832-06:00I should add that it was your blog entry that allo...I should add that it was your blog entry that allowed my daughter to find the full poemGreghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04045363403349087656noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-83749831427879079132012-12-26T13:00:32.139-06:002012-12-26T13:00:32.139-06:00The Last Verses
O ageless nonpareil of stars
That...The Last Verses<br /><br />O ageless nonpareil of stars<br />That shinest through a mist of cloud,<br />O light beyond the prison bars<br />Remote, unwavering, and proud;<br />Fortunate star and happy light,<br />Ye benison, the gloom of night.<br /><br />All hail, unfailing eye and hand,<br />All hail, all hail, unsilenced voice,<br />That makest dead men understand,<br />The very dead in graves rejoice:<br />Whose utterance, writ in ancient books,<br />Shall always live, for him that looks.<br /><br />Many as leaves from autumn trees<br />The years shall flutter from on high,<br />And with their multiple decease<br />The souls of men shall fall and die,<br />Yet, while the empires turn to dust,<br />You shall live on, because you must.<br /><br />O seven times happy he that dies<br />After the splendid harvest-tide,<br />When strong barns shield from winter skies<br />The grain that’s rightly stored inside:<br />There death shall scatter no more tears<br />Than o’er the falling of the years:<br /><br />Aye, happy seven times is he<br />Who enters not the silent doors<br />Before his time, but tenderly<br />Death beckons unto him, because<br />There’s rest within for weary feet<br />Now all the journey is complete.<br />Greghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04045363403349087656noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-89994904917733597922012-12-26T13:00:16.717-06:002012-12-26T13:00:16.717-06:00The Interlude
It was upon a night of spring,
Even...The Interlude<br /><br />It was upon a night of spring,<br />Even the time when first do sing<br />The new-returned nightingales;<br />Whenas all hills and woods and dales<br />Are resonant with melody<br />Of songs that die not, but shall be<br />Unto the latest hour of time<br />Beyond the life of word or rime—<br />Whenas all brooks more softly flow<br />Remembering lovers long ago<br />That stood upon their banks and vowed,<br />And love was with them like a cloud:<br />There came one out of Athens town<br />In a spun robe, with sandals brown,<br />Just when the white ship of the moon<br />Had first set sail, and many a rune<br />Was written in the argent stars;<br />His feet were set towards the hills<br />Because he knew that there the rills<br />Ran down like jewels, and fairy cars<br />Galloped, maybe, among the dells,<br />And airy sprites wove fitful spells<br />Of gossamer and cold moonshine<br />Which do most mistily entwine:<br />And ever the hills called, and a voice<br />Cried: “Soon, maybe, comes thy choice<br />Twixt mortal immortality<br />Such as shall never be again,<br />‘Twixt the most passionate-pleasant pain<br />And all the quiet, barren joys<br />That old men prate about to boys.”<br /> . . . . . . . . . . . .<br />He wandered many nights and days—<br />Whose morns were always crystal clear,<br />As lay the world in still amaze<br />Enchanted of the springing year,<br />And all the nights with wakeful eyes<br />Watched for another dawn to rise—<br />Till at the last the mountain tops<br />Received him, which like giant props<br />Stand, lest the all-encircling sky<br />Fall down, and men be crushed and die.<br />And so he reached a curvèd hill<br />Whereon the hornèd moon did seem<br />Her richest radiance to spill<br />In an inestimable stream,<br />Like jewels rare of countless price,<br />Or wizard magic turned to ice.<br />. . . . . . . . . . . .<br />And as he reached the topmost crest of it,<br />Lo! The Olympian majesties did sit<br />In a most high and passionless conclave:<br />They ate ambrosia with their deathless lips,<br />And ever and anon the golden wave<br />Flowed of the drink divine, which only strips<br />This mortal frame of its mortality.<br />And there, and there was Aphrodite, she<br />That is more lovely than the golden dawn<br />And from a ripple of the sea was born:<br />And there was Hera, the imperious queen,<br />And Dian’s chastity, that hunts unseen<br />What time with spring the woodland boughs are green:<br />And there was Pan with mirth and pleasantness,<br />And Eros’ self that never knew distress<br />Save for the love of the fair Cretan maid;<br />There Hermes with the wings of speed arrayed,<br />And awful Zeus, the king of gods and men,<br />And ever at his feet Apollo sang<br />A measure of changing harmonies that rang<br />From that high mountain over all the world,<br />And all the sails of fighting ships were furled,<br />And men drew breath, and there was peace again.<br />But him that saw, the sight like flame,<br />Or depths of waters overcame:<br />He swooned, nor heard how ceased the choir<br />Of strings upon Apollo’s lyre,<br />Nor saw he how the sweet god stood<br />And smiled on him in kindly mood,<br />And stopped, and kissed him as he lay;<br />Then lightly rose and turned away<br />To join the bright immortal throng<br />And make for them another song.<br />Greghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04045363403349087656noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-22826061017219295782012-12-26T12:59:56.903-06:002012-12-26T12:59:56.903-06:00Geoffrey Bache Smith
The Burial of Sophocles
T...Geoffrey Bache Smith<br /><br />The Burial of Sophocles<br /><br /><br /><br />The First Verses<br /><br />Gather great store of roses, crimson-red<br />From ancient gardens under summer skies:<br />New opened buds, and some that soon must shed<br />Their leaves to earth, that all expectant lies;<br />Some from the paths of poets’ wandering,<br />Some from the places where young lovers meet,<br />Some from the seats of dreamers pondering,<br />And all most richly red, and honey-sweet.<br /><br />For in the splendour of the afternoon,<br />When sunshine lingers in the glittering town<br />And glorifies the temples wondrous-hewn<br />All set about it like a deathless crown,<br />We will go mingle with the solemn throng,<br />With neither eyes that weep, nor hearts that bleed,<br />That to his grave with slow, majestic song<br />Bears down the latest of the godlike seed.<br /><br />Many a singer lies on the distant isle<br />Beneath the canopy of changing sky:<br />Around them waves innumerable smile,<br />And o’er their head the restless seabirds cry:<br />But we will lay him far from sound of seas,<br />Far from the jutting crags’ unhopeful gloom,<br />Where there blows never wind save summer breeze,<br />And where the growing rose may clasp his tomb.<br /><br />And thither in the splendid nights of spring,<br />When stars in legions over heaven are flung,<br />Shall come the ancient gods, all wondering<br />Why he sings not that had so richly sung:<br />There Heracles with peaceful foot shall press<br />The springing herbage, and Hephæstus strong,<br />Hera and Aphrodite’s loveliness,<br />And the great giver of the choric song.<br /><br />And thither, after weary pilgrimage,<br />From unknown lands beyond the hoary wave,<br />Shall travellers through every coming age<br />Approach to pluck a blossom from his grave:<br />Some in the flush of youth, or in the prime,<br />Whose life is still as heapèd gold to spend,<br />And some who have drunk deep of grief and time,<br />And who yet linger half-afraid the end.<br />Greghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04045363403349087656noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-89507069423700000872012-12-26T12:59:24.174-06:002012-12-26T12:59:24.174-06:00I was also struck by the quotes from "The Bur...I was also struck by the quotes from "The Burial of Sophocles" in John Garth's book. Can't help with "A Spring Harvest", but can help with the rest of the poem, as my daughter was kind enough to track down a copy of "The Valiant Muse" foe me for Christmas. Hope it's OK to pose the entire poem here (in the following three posts; if not, please delete.<br /><br />Source and possible copyright: Ziv, Frederic W. [Ed.] (1936) The Valiant Muse: An Anthology of Poems by Poets Killed in The First World War. Great Neck, New York: Granger Book Co. Inc. 160 pp.<br />Greghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04045363403349087656noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-24170161762834794282012-09-28T15:08:29.946-05:002012-09-28T15:08:29.946-05:00Wonderful idea! Nice to hear from you, Michael.Wonderful idea! Nice to hear from you, Michael.Jason Fisherhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05809154870762268253noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-41887698880786254962012-09-28T13:48:50.911-05:002012-09-28T13:48:50.911-05:00Hi Jason,
I hope this finds you well. Thank you ve...Hi Jason,<br />I hope this finds you well. Thank you very much for yet another fascinating post. On 5th November 2012 I will attending the official opening of the Field of Remembrance in Belfast. As well as planting a remembrance cross for a Great Uncle who was killed in Thiepval Wood I would, now, like to add a cross for Smith with a stanza, or two, of his added to the cross. I look forward to 'A Spring Harvest' with relish - I'll certainly purchase a copy too, and review it for Amon Hen. I will also purchase a copy to donate to the Somme Centre in Newtownards. <br /><br />Michael Cunningham Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07625361600601906093noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9050528436539921312.post-62907965529339485572012-09-28T13:38:37.598-05:002012-09-28T13:38:37.598-05:00Hi Jason,
I hope this finds you well. Thank you ve...Hi Jason,<br />I hope this finds you well. Thank you very much for yet another fascinating post. On 5th November 2012 I will attending the official opening of the Field of Remembrance in Belfast. As well as planting a remembrance cross for a Great Uncle who was killed in Thiepval Wood I would, now, like to add a cross for Smith with a stanza, or two, of his added to the cross. I look forward to 'A Spring Harvest' with relish - I'll certainly purchase a copy too, and review it for Amon Hen. I will also purchase a copy to donate to the Somme Centre in Newtownards. <br /><br />Michael Cunningham Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07625361600601906093noreply@blogger.com