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 Post subject: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 12:58 pm 
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Some Poor Bibliophile
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Somebody post some appropriate poetry.

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Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher."


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:14 pm 
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There Can Be Only One
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Location: Nuevo Mexico
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Frost is obvious:


O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away.
(censored) the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if the were all,
Whose elaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes' sake along the all.

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Where’er the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s music and laughter and good red wine.
At least I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!
~Hilaire Belloc

Semper Fi!


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:16 pm 
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I think GKC was going more for this kind of thing:

The Pope was in his chapel before day or battle broke,
(Don John of Austria is hidden in the smoke.)
The hidden room in man’s house where God sits all the year,
The secret window whence the world looks small and very dear.
He sees as in a mirror on the monstrous twilight sea
The crescent of his cruel ships whose name is mystery;
They fling great shadows foe-wards, making Cross and Castle dark,
They veil the plumèd lions on the galleys of St. Mark;
And above the ships are palaces of brown, black-bearded chiefs,
And below the ships are prisons, where with multitudinous griefs,
Christian captives sick and sunless, all a labouring race repines
Like a race in sunken cities, like a nation in the mines.
They are lost like slaves that sweat, and in the skies of morning hung
The stair-ways of the tallest gods when tyranny was young.
They are countless, voiceless, hopeless as those fallen or fleeing on
Before the high Kings’ horses in the granite of Babylon.
And many a one grows witless in his quiet room in hell
Where a yellow face looks inward through the lattice of his cell,
And he finds his God forgotten, and he seeks no more a sign—
(But Don John of Austria has burst the battle-line!)
Don John pounding from the slaughter-painted poop,
Purpling all the ocean like a bloody pirate’s sloop,
Scarlet running over on the silvers and the golds,
Breaking of the hatches up and bursting of the holds,
Thronging of the thousands up that labour under sea
White for bliss and blind for sun and stunned for liberty.
Vivat Hispania!
Domino Gloria!
Don John of Austria
Has set his people free!

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Suscipe me secundum eloquium tuum, et vivam: et non confundas me ab exspectatione mea.


Last edited by gherkin on Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:17 pm 
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The only poetry going through my mind right now is “I’m Bulldawg born and Bulldawg bred, and when I die, I’ll be Bulldawg dead!!” Yeah, I’m still celebrating the win yesterday and our #2 ranking. Sue me.

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formerly "ghall512"--Thanks for the idea, arkcatholic! :clap:


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:18 pm 
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There Can Be Only One
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Location: Nuevo Mexico
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But I pefer:

The month of carnival of all the year,
When Nature lets the wild earth go its way,
And spend whole seasons on a single day.
The spring-time holds her white and purple dear;
October, lavish, flaunts them far and near;
The summer charily her reds doth lay
Like jewels on her costliest array;
October, scornful, burns them on a bier.
The winter hoards his pearls of frost in sign
Of kingdom: whiter pearls than winter knew,
Oar empress wore, in Egypt's ancient line,
October, feasting 'neath her dome of blue,
Drinks at a single draught, slow filtered through
Sunshiny air, as in a tingling wine!


--Helen Hunt Jackson

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Where’er the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s music and laughter and good red wine.
At least I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!
~Hilaire Belloc

Semper Fi!


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:22 pm 
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Some Poor Bibliophile
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gherkin wrote:
I think GKC was going more for this kind of thing:

The Pope was in his chapel before day or battle broke,
(Don John of Austria is hidden in the smoke.)
The hidden room in man’s house where God sits all the year,
The secret window whence the world looks small and very dear.
He sees as in a mirror on the monstrous twilight sea
The crescent of his cruel ships whose name is mystery;
They fling great shadows foe-wards, making Cross and Castle dark,
They veil the plumèd lions on the galleys of St. Mark;
And above the ships are palaces of brown, black-bearded chiefs,
And below the ships are prisons, where with multitudinous griefs,
Christian captives sick and sunless, all a labouring race repines
Like a race in sunken cities, like a nation in the mines.
They are lost like slaves that sweat, and in the skies of morning hung
The stair-ways of the tallest gods when tyranny was young.
They are countless, voiceless, hopeless as those fallen or fleeing on
Before the high Kings’ horses in the granite of Babylon.
And many a one grows witless in his quiet room in hell
Where a yellow face looks inward through the lattice of his cell,
And he finds his God forgotten, and he seeks no more a sign—
(But Don John of Austria has burst the battle-line!)
Don John pounding from the slaughter-painted poop,
Purpling all the ocean like a bloody pirate’s sloop,
Scarlet running over on the silvers and the golds,
Breaking of the hatches up and bursting of the holds,
Thronging of the thousands up that labour under sea
White for bliss and blind for sun and stunned for liberty.
Vivat Hispania!
Domino Gloria!
Don John of Austria
Has set his people free!


Yes. The Feast Day was noted in our bulletin.

Cervantes on his galley sets the sword back in the sheath
(Don John of Austria rides homeward with a wreath.)
And he sees across a weary land a straggling road in Spain,
Up which a lean and foolish knight forever rides in vain,
And he smiles, but not as Sultans smile, and settles back the blade....
(But Don John of Austria rides home from the Crusade.)

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"I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher."


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:26 pm 
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There Can Be Only One
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And the incomparable Basho (in translation):

On this road
where nobody else travels
autumn nightfall

_________________
Where’er the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s music and laughter and good red wine.
At least I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!
~Hilaire Belloc

Semper Fi!


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:33 pm 
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Some Poor Bibliophile
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Highlander wrote:
And the incomparable Basho (in translation):

On this road
where nobody else travels
autumn nightfall


Well, that's a nice try.

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"I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher."


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:34 pm 
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Location: Nuevo Mexico
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The telling point in my offerings is that they are not limited to the 7th of October, but can be relevant each day of this delightful month.

For example, by Paul Lawrence Dunbar:

October is the treasurer of the year,
And all the months pay bounty to her store;
The fields and orchards still their tribute bear,
And fill her brimming coffers more and more.
But she, with youthful lavishness,
Spends all her wealth in gaudy dress,
And decks herself in garments bold
Of scarlet, purple, red, and gold.
She heedeth not how swift the hours fly,
But smiles and sings her happy life along;
She only sees above a shining sky;
She only hears the breezes' voice in song.
Her garments trail the woodlands through,
And gather pearls of early dew
That sparkle, till the roguish Sun
Creeps up and steals them every one.
But what cares she that jewels should be lost,
When all of Nature's bounteous wealth is hers?
Though princely fortunes may have been their cost,
Not one regret her calm demeanor stirs.
Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free,
She lives her life out joyously,
Nor cares when Frost stalks o'er her way
And turns her auburn locks to gray.

_________________
Where’er the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s music and laughter and good red wine.
At least I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!
~Hilaire Belloc

Semper Fi!


Last edited by Highlander on Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 1:35 pm 
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Some Poor Bibliophile
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Highlander wrote:
The telling point in my offerings is that they are not limited to the 7th of October, but can be relevant each day of this delightful month.


But...it's the 7th of October.

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"I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher."


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 7:31 pm 
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And today is Vladimir Putin’s Birthday, too.

С Днём рождения, Владимир Владимирович!

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Vietnamese - Mother's Heart Will Conquer.


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 9:06 pm 
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Quote the Raven, "Nevermore."

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"Art, like morality, consists of drawing the line somewhere." - G. K. Chesterton


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 9:09 pm 
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The Road goes ever on and on
Out from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
Let others follow it who can!
Let them a journey new begin,
But I at last with weary feet
Will turn towards the lighted inn,
My evening-rest and sleep to meet.

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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Sun Oct 07, 2018 10:26 pm 
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There Can Be Only One
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Yes, it does. The road.

They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.

Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few.)
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods.
But there is no road through the woods.

_________________
Where’er the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s music and laughter and good red wine.
At least I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!
~Hilaire Belloc

Semper Fi!


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Mon Oct 08, 2018 7:59 am 
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Some Poor Bibliophile
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Posts: 18782
Highlander wrote:
Yes, it does. The road.

They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.

Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few.)
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods.
But there is no road through the woods.


That's a good poem.

It is a fine poem for 8 October.

It is 8 October.

_________________
"I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher."


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Mon Oct 08, 2018 8:03 am 
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So, please, provide a poem for the 12th of Never... that's a long, long time.

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Where’er the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s music and laughter and good red wine.
At least I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!
~Hilaire Belloc

Semper Fi!


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Mon Oct 08, 2018 9:00 am 
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Citizen
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I'm astonished that a word in Frost's work was (censored). What gives?

I looked it up -

(censored) the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.


Controversy-adverse modern-day Bowdlers have infiltrated the internet to impose their ignorance through programs which delete/alter words that might - MIGHT - offend others. Ironically, quivering public school administrators (I'm overgeneralizing here. Bear with me. I go with what I know.) misread the word anyway. As an insult, the word is spelled with an i, not an e. Like the word niggard, the word has such potency that even close approximations make it suspect. Watch for the following alterations in works by Shakespeare -

But not a (censored) of your speech: how goes't? - Macbeth

Then, beauteous (censored), why dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
- Sonnet IV

And, no, I'm not blaming Highlander. In fact, I'm grateful for the exposure to another lovely poem by Frost. My guess is if a teacher passed out a worksheet with (censored), it would inadvertently cause a server to crash for all the students eager to find out what the fuss is about.

After-thought: I posted a message to Highlander for his input on my post to ensure I didn't offend anyone. If so, this disappears.

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Last edited by Riverboat on Mon Oct 08, 2018 9:34 am, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Mon Oct 08, 2018 9:30 am 
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Some Poor Bibliophile
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Highlander wrote:
So, please, provide a poem for the 12th of Never... that's a long, long time.


I'll come up with one before it gets here.

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"I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher."


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Mon Oct 08, 2018 9:44 am 
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There Can Be Only One
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Location: Nuevo Mexico
Religion: Catholic
Riverboat wrote:
I'm astonished that a word in Frost's work was (censored). What gives?

I looked it up -

(censored) the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.


Controversy-adverse modern-day Bowdlers have infiltrated the internet to impose their ignorance through programs which delete/alter words that might - MIGHT - offend others. Ironically, quivering public school administrators (I'm overgeneralizing here. Bear with me. I go with what I know.) misread the word anyway. As an insult, the word is spelled with an i, not an e. Like the word niggard, the word has such potency that even close approximations make it suspect. Watch for the following alterations in works by Shakespeare -

But not a (censored) of your speech: how goes't? - Macbeth

Then, beauteous (censored), why dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
- Sonnet IV

And, no, I'm not blaming Highlander. In fact, I'm grateful for the exposure to another lovely poem by Frost. My guess is if a teacher passed out a worksheet with (censored), it would inadvertently cause a server to crash for all the students eager to find out what the fuss is about.

After-thought: I posted a message to Highlander for his input on my post to ensure I didn't offend anyone. If so, this disappears.


Hey, and in public, not offended at all. Only a (censored) would censor "(censored)".

Political correctness, coupled with mind numbing ignorance, has destroyed the Western canon. And female Central American revolutionaries calling for murder are now de rigueur. I understand that some people even wear t-shirts with Che Guevea's likeness upon them.

Nope. No offense. None.

_________________
Where’er the Catholic sun doth shine,
There’s music and laughter and good red wine.
At least I’ve always found it so.
Benedicamus Domino!
~Hilaire Belloc

Semper Fi!


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 Post subject: Re: And...it's October 7
PostPosted: Mon Oct 08, 2018 10:37 am 
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Some Poor Bibliophile
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Joined: Thu Feb 20, 2003 10:22 pm
Posts: 18782
Highlander wrote:
Riverboat wrote:
I'm astonished that a word in Frost's work was (censored). What gives?

I looked it up -

(censored) the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.


Controversy-adverse modern-day Bowdlers have infiltrated the internet to impose their ignorance through programs which delete/alter words that might - MIGHT - offend others. Ironically, quivering public school administrators (I'm overgeneralizing here. Bear with me. I go with what I know.) misread the word anyway. As an insult, the word is spelled with an i, not an e. Like the word niggard, the word has such potency that even close approximations make it suspect. Watch for the following alterations in works by Shakespeare -

But not a (censored) of your speech: how goes't? - Macbeth

Then, beauteous (censored), why dost thou abuse
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
- Sonnet IV

And, no, I'm not blaming Highlander. In fact, I'm grateful for the exposure to another lovely poem by Frost. My guess is if a teacher passed out a worksheet with (censored), it would inadvertently cause a server to crash for all the students eager to find out what the fuss is about.

After-thought: I posted a message to Highlander for his input on my post to ensure I didn't offend anyone. If so, this disappears.


Hey, and in public, not offended at all. Only a (censored) would censor "(censored)".

Political correctness, coupled with mind numbing ignorance, has destroyed the Western canon. And female Central American revolutionaries calling for murder are now de rigueur. I understand that some people even wear t-shirts with Che Guevea's likeness upon them.

Nope. No offense. None.


I agree with Highlander.

Though I have occasionally been offended by Highlander.

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"I tell you naught for your comfort,
Yea, naught for your desire,
Save that the sky grows darker yet
And the sea rises higher."


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