William Shakespeare (Hamlet)

"Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
But never doubt I love."

Queen and Huntress
Ben Jonson

Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver chair
State in wonted manner keep:
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.

Earth, let not thy envious shade
Dare itself to interpose;
Cynthia's shining orb was made
Heaven to clear when day did close:
Bless us then with wished sight,
Goddess excellently bright.

Lay thy bow of pearl apart
And thy crystal-shining quiver;
Give unto the flying hart
Space to breathe, how short soever:
Thou that mak'st a day of night,
Goddess excellently bright.

On a Forenoon of Spring
William Allingham

I'm glad I am alive, to see and feel
The full deliciousness of this bright day,
That's like a heart with nothing to conceal;
The young leaves scarcely trembling; the blue-grey
Rimming the cloudless ether far away;
Brairds, hedges, shadows; mountains that reveal
Soft sapphire; this great floor of polished steel
Spread out amidst the landmarks of the bay.

I stoop in sunshine to our circling net
From the black gunwale; tend these milky kine
Up their rough path; sit by yon cottage-door
Plying the diligent thread; take wings and soar--
O hark how with the season's laureate
Joy culminates in song! If such a song were mine!

Horses on the Camargue
Roy Campbell

In the grey wastes of dread,
The haunt of shattered gulls where nothing moves
But in a shroud of silence like the dead,
I heard a sudden harmony of hooves,
And, turning, saw afar
A hundred snowy horses unconfined,
The silver runaways of Neptune's car
Racing, spray-curled, like waves before the wind.
Sons of the Mistral, fleet
As him with whose strong gusts they love to flee,
Who shod the flying thunders on their feet
And plumed them with the snortings of the sea;
Theirs is no earthly breed
Who only haunts the verges of the earth
And only on the sea's salt herbage feed-
Surely the great white breakers gave them birth.
For when for years a slave,
A horse of the Camargue, in alien lands,
Should catch some far-off fragrance of the wave
Carried far inland from this native sands,
Many have told the tale
Of how in fury, foaming at the rein,
He hurls his rider; and with lifted tail,
With coal-red eyes and catarcating mane,
Heading his course for home,
Though sixty foreign leagues before him sweep,
Will never rest until he breathes the foam
And hears the native thunder of the deep.
And when the great gusts rise
And lash their anger on these arid coasts,
When the scared gulls career with mournful cries
And whirl across the waste like driven ghosts;
When hail and fire converge,
The only souls to which they strike no pain
Are the white crested fillies of the surge
And the white horses of the windy plain.
Then in their strength and pride
The stallions of the wilderness rejoice;
They feel their Master's trident in their side,
And high and shrill they answer to his voice.
With white tails smoking free,
Long streaming manes, and arching necks, they show
Their kinship to their sisters of the sea-
And forward hurl their thunderbolts of snow.
Still out of hardship bred,
Spirits of power and beauty and delight
Have ever on such frugal pasture fed
And loved to course with tempests through the night.

Heard you use one of my favourite words again in an Antipodean interview...
HAPPENSTANCE, love it!

A photo I like to refer to as...
"Get your coat, you've pulled."

In Time of “The Breaking of Nations”
Thomas Hardy (1915)

Only a man harrowing clods
In a slow silent walk
With an old horse that stumbles and nods
Half asleep as they stalk.

Only a thin smoke without flame
From the heaps of couch-grass;
Yet this will go onward the same
Though Dynasties pass.

Yonder a maid and her wight
Come whispering by:
War’s annals will cloud into night
Ere their story die.

Oh no!
Can it be true that the BFS is no longer with us?

The original ode plus a new third verse
Ode to the BFS

You match me in paleness, the blue of my eyes,
You hold me, enfold me, caressing my thighs,
By you I am comforted, safe and secure,
You save me from demons, no fear anymore.
My constant companion wherever I roam
Be it over the ocean or nearer to home.

You have your own place in the hearts of the few
who acknowledge the significance that I give you.
I've loved you so long that you're part of me now,
I'll never discard you, I'll honour this vow.
My magical talisman, fame-bringer, friend,
Your story's a legend that never will end.
----------------------------------------------------------------

OK, I've outgrown you in more ways than one,
Perhaps you're now dusters or completely gone.
I no longer need you, the world knows my name,
But you'll be immortal, you've JMB fame.
Dear Blue Flowery Shirt, so sad now you're gone,
Just realised, they're not flowers, it's leaves you had on!

Hope that you have a great time in Australia, James.

The Atlantic's Roar
Edmond Holmes

Two walls of precipices black and steep,
The storm-lashed ramparts of a naked land,
Are parted here by leagues of lonely sand
That make a bay; and up it ever creep
Billowy ocean ripples half asleep,
That cast a belt of foam along the strand,
Seething and white, and wake in cadence grand
The everlasting thunder of the deep.
And there is never silence on that shore -
Alike in storm and calm, foam-fringes gird
It's desolation, and the Atlantic's roar
Makes mighty music. Though the sea be stirred
By scarce a breath of breeze, yet evermore
The sands are whitened, and the thunder heard.

"It wasn't the Exxon Valdez captain's driving that caused the Alaskan oil spill.  It was yours." 

H is for - Haven't got any Hydrogen
--------------------------------------------
What on earth is the solution
without causing air pollution
to the question of propulsion
without causing the expulsion
of enormous clouds of gases
highly toxic to the masses?

(Buy a Prius and feel pious? Nah!)

The,
hydrogen cause is rising
well, that hardly is surprising
the element's so abundant
will it make oil redundant?
Well I'm told it's just a carrier
and that really is the barrier
not to mention infrastructure.
(p.s. Ladybird want to book yer.)

So,I'm cancelling the Clarity,
'twould be the subject of hilarity.
Till I can find a *HP source,
I'm going to buy myself a horse!

Elaine x      (*Hydrogen plentiful)

Sonnet
Richard Elwes

I have been greeted by long absent friends
and loved the starting pleasure in their eyes;
have known the silence as the singer ends,
holding the listeners dumb with ecstasies;
have filled my nostrils from the opening rose,
have shouted verse, exulting, down the wind,
have gazed at moonlit water as it flows,
and morning mountains with the sun behind;
have felt the blessed ease that follows pain,
and heard great tides of music as they sweep;
have found lost infant memories again,
seen Heaven-visiting children fast asleep.
I summon up these joys, each one apart-
and I have held my love against my heart.

My still much missed, old cat, Mariella Foss-Trop.
As a  kitten, she was left to die.
We rescued her and  had her with us for thirteen years.

'I took a chair and threw it...'
Felix Dennis

I took a chair and threw it
Across my unmade bed
When I returned one evening,
To find my old cat dead.

Yet when an ailing neighbour
Passed on - no missiles flew.
The ties that bind are stronger
Than what we tie them to.

A few days by the sea...

Astrophel and Stella: I
Sir Philip Sidney

Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain,--
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,--
I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe;
Studying inventions fine her wits to entertain,
Oft turning others' leaves, to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sunburn'd brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting invention's stay;
Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows;
And others' feet still seem'd but strangers in my way.
Thus great with child to speak and helpless in my throes,
Biting my truant pen, beating myself for spite,
"Fool," said my Muse to me, "look in thy heart, and write."

Whatnot Superman
------------------------
They're hanging on your every word
- how absurd!
Your pedestal begins to rock
- such a shock!

They can't believe that you're not perfect
- Mr May?
I never thought you were from Stepford
- anyway.

Sometimes you get caught saying it
- as it is
And bite the hand that feeds you, well
- that's showbiz

In comparison, smarter, richer, luckier
- you may be
If we're born equal, then you are no
- better than me!

For all your faults I'll always love you
- as a fan
As after all, alas alack you're
- just a man!

MY LADY CARRIES LOVE WITHIN HER EYES
by: Dante Alighieri

My lady carries love within her eyes;
All that she looks on is made pleasanter;
Upon her path men turn to gaze at her;
He whom she greeteth feels his heart to rise,
And droops his troubled visage, full of sighs,
And of his evil heart is then aware:
Hate loves, and pride becomes a worshiper.
O women, help to praise her in somewise.
Humbleness, and the hope that hopeth well,
By speech of hers into the mind are brought,
And who beholds is blessèd oftenwhiles,
The look she hath when she a little smiles
Cannot be said, nor holden in the thought;
'Tis such a new and gracious miracle.

Hafiz

The rose is not the rose unless thou see;
Without good wine, spring is not spring for me.

Without thou tulip cheek, the gracious air
Of gardens and of meadows is not fair.

The rosy limbs, unless I may embrace,
Lose for my longing eyes full half their grace;

Nor does thy scarlet mouth with honey drip
Unless I taste it's honey, lip to lip.

Vainly the cypress in the zephyr sways,
Unless the nightingale be there to praise.

Nothing the mind imagines can be fair,
Except the picture that it makes of her.

Hidden Flame
John Dryden

I FEED a flame within, which so torments me
That it both pains my heart, and yet contents me:
'Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it,
That I had rather die than once remove it.

Yet he, for whom I grieve, shall never know it;
My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes show it.
Not a sigh, nor a tear, my pain discloses,
But they fall silently, like dew on roses.

Thus, to prevent my Love from being cruel,
My heart 's the sacrifice, as 'tis the fuel;
And while I suffer this to give him quiet,
My faith rewards my love, though he deny it.

On his eyes will I gaze, and there delight me;
While I conceal my love no frown can fright me.
To be more happy I dare not aspire,
Nor can I fall more low, mounting no higher.

The Infinite
Giacomo Leopardi

I always loved this solitary hill,
This ledge as well, which takes so large a share
Of the far-flung horizon from my view;
But seated here, in contemplation lost,
My thought discovers vaster space beyond,
Supernal silence and unfathomed peace;
Almost I am afraid; then, since I hear
The murmur of the wind among the leaves,
I match that infinite calm unto this sound
And with my mind embrace eternity,
The vivid, speaking present and dead past;
In such immensity my spirit drowns,
And sweet to me is shipwreck in this sea.

Congratulations to James and Top Gear on their National TV award.

Sorry James,

On the loss of Fusker
------------------------
Tiger bright

whiskers white
velvet paws
unsheathed claws
tongue-washed clean
obsidian sheen.
Mischievous lad
not all bad.
Tuxedo smart
grabbed a heart.
Of the night,

Bye, tiger bright.
---------------------------

Thought I'd bring this back up.

Ode to Fusker May
------------------
"There are two means of refuge from the
miseries of life: music and cats." - Albert Schweitzer

Calling Fusker May, did you know that here today,
Your person just called you a rubbish cat?
Well I thought he had good manners
And was good at playing pianos,
Not to mention using spanners,
But I never thought I'd see him writing that!

Now he knows that you originate from Hammond,
But still a docile creature he expects,
So!, you borrowed the new car,
Well, you didn't take it far,
(Fifi still thinks you're a star), Don't worry puss 'cos nobody suspects!

Big Tom, you're trusty sidekick, has really got him fooled,
Opposite his office window, in that tree,
His wood pigeon disguise,
Gives him cover while he spies,
(Think He needs to test his eyes!),
When He's out, it's up to mischief you can be!

Have you heard about the calendar he's sorting?
He asked Them if They thought it was a goer,
What the Posters had to say
Was that they wanted Fusker May,
Want to see YOU on display,
On their list, poor Him, He came out SO much lower!

You're oh so handsome in your tux; he says you're like a loaf!
And that the only thing you're good at is the jumping!
It's just jealousy I'm thinking,
You can see it when he's blinking,
And you're driving him to drinking,
Take no notice puss, of him, just interrupt him when he's... writing his column.

Elaine x
on March 16, 2010

Love hath so long possessed me for his own

Dante Alighieri

Love hath so long possessed me for his own
And made his lordship so familiar
That he, who at first irked me, is now grown
Unto my heart as its best secrets are.
And thus, when he in such sore wise doth mar
My life that all its strength seems gone from it,
Mine inmost being then feels thoroughly quit
Of anguish, and all evil keeps afar.
Love also gathers to such power in me
That my sighs speak, each one a grievous thing,
Always soliciting
My lady's salutation piteously.
Whenever she beholds me, it is so,
Who is more sweet than any words can show.

Tonight's sunset vapour trails

Forbear , Sir Knight!
Felix Dennis

Forbear Sir Knight! You quest too late,
  (Alas, alack for thee);
No damsels in distress now wait
   On shining chivalry.

Your courtly love, your sword and spur
   Bound Guinevere to woe-
And we have learned to much prefer
   The dragon to his foe.

Ride on to lands where maidens cower
  And revel in their plight:
I am the mistress of this tower -
   I  am my own heart's knight.

The Last Performance
Thomas Hardy

"I am playing my oldest tunes," declared she,
"All the old tunes I know, -
Those I learnt ever so long ago."
- Why she should think just then she'd play them
Silence cloaks like snow.

When I returned from the town at nightfall
Notes continued to pour
As when I had left two hours before:
It's the very last time," she said in closing;
"From now I play no more."

A few morns onward found her fading,
And, as her life outflew,
I thought of her playing her tunes right through;
And I felt she had known of what was coming,
And wondered how she knew.

New Year's Resolutions
------------------------------
I'm giving up, I'm giving up,
but now I'm thinking, what?
A tot of spirits now and then
does not make me a sot!

I gave up smoking years ago,
and my word, was that hard.
I'd smoked my dears for many years,
my insides were well charred!

I'm keeping up the exercise,
so I can keep on treating
myself to yummy chocolate,
besides the salad eating!

So, what is left, oh no, not that,
I couldn't that forgo.
(A man in a tuxedo always raises my libido.)
So that I think, is definitely no!

Well that's it for another year
Giving up's not the solution.
As usual I'll ignore it all,
Yes, that's my resolution!

(Sonnet 30)
William Shakespeare

When to the sessions of sweet silent thought
I summon up remembrance of things past,
I sigh the lack of many a thing I sought,
And with old woes new wail my dear time's waste:
Then can I drown an eye, unused to flow,
For precious friends hid in death's dateless night,
And weep afresh love's long since cancelled woe,
And moan the expense of many a vanished sight:
Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,
And heavily from woe to woe tell o'er
The sad account of fore-bemoanèd moan,
Which I new pay as if not paid before.

But if the while I think on thee, dear friend,
All losses are restored and sorrows end.

Childhood (part only)
Henry Vaughan

Why should men love
A wolf more than a lamb or dove?
Or choose hell-fire and brimstone streams
Before bright stars and God's own beams?
Who kisseth thorns will hurt his face,
But flowers do both refresh and grace,
And sweetly living - fie on men! -
Are, when dead, medicinal then;
If seeing much should make staid eyes,
And long experience should make wise,
Since all that age doth teach is ill,
Why should I not love childhood still?
Why, if I see a rock or shelf,
Shall I from thence cast down myself?
Or by complying with the world,
From the same precipice be hurled?
Those observations are but foul
Which make me wise to lose my soul.

Do I live the high life, or what!

Just been doing a bit of light reading about this area, (Nottinghamshire). I am fascinated to find that the chap, a 'giant of Municipal Engineering', who was responsible for the building of many important projects in the area, including Trent Bridge and my personal favourite, Papplewick Pumping Station, was named, (Ooh, I love this!)...
MARRIOTT OGLE TARBOTTON.
What a fantastic name!

          
           At Tea
           Thomas Hardy

THE kettle descants in a cosy drone,

And the young wife looks in her husband's face,

And then in her guest's, and shows in her own

Her sense that she fills an envied place;

And the visiting lady is all abloom,

And says there was never so sweet a room.

 

And the happy young housewife does not know

That the woman beside her was his first choice,

Till the fates ordained it could not be so....

Betraying nothing in look or voice

The guest sits smiling and sips her tea,

And he throws her a stray glance yearningly.

Love

Abraham Cowley
-----------------------------

I'll sing of heroes, and of kings,
In mighty numbers, mighty things.
Begin, my Muse! but lo! the strings
To my great song rebellious prove;
The strings will sound of naught but love.
-I broke them all, and put on new;
-'Tis this or nothing now will do.
"These sure," said I, "will me obey;
These sure heroic notes will play."
Straight I began with thundering Jove
And all th' immortal powers but Love.
Love smil'd, and from my enfeebled lyre
Came gentle airs, such as inspire
Melting love, and soft desire.--
Farewell, then, heroes! farewell, kings!
And mighty numbers, mighty things!
Love tunes my heart just to my strings.

Happy New Year!