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In honor of the death of the great J.D. Salinger I have been re-reading The Catcher in the Rye, and within the book Holden refers to a song with the lyric "if a body catch a body coming thru the rye" so I was compelled to look it up and discovered it came from a Robert Burns poem/song called Comin Thro' the Rye (no doubt the books namesake) and though perhaps I am just biased because of my great love of "The Catcher in the Rye" but upon reading the poem, I find it irresistably appealing.
O, Jenny's a' weet, poor body,
Jenny's seldom dry:
She draigl't a' her petticoatie,
Comin thro' the rye!
Comin thro' the rye, poor body,
Comin thro' the rye,
She draigl't a' her petticoatie,
Comin thro' the rye!
Gin a body meet a body
Comin thro' the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry?
Gin a body meet a body
Comin thro' the glen,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need the warl' ken?
Gin a body meet a body
Comin thro' the grain;
Gin a body kiss a body,
The thing's a body's ain.
1:42 PM - 2/23/2010 - {0} -
I first heard a portion of this poem recited in the new Levi's commerical, and there was something about it and it quite struck me. I recgonized it as a classical poem, but could not place just where it originiated, so I looked it up online, and found it was a poem by Walt Whitman, and after reading the whole thing, I really liked it. I think it is an incrediable poem and something about it is quite striking. Perhaps it is the rebellious feeling behind it.
Pioneers! O Pioneers!
1
COME, my tan-faced children,
Follow well in order, get your weapons ready;
Have you your pistols? have you your sharp edged axes? Pioneers! O pioneers!
2
For we cannot tarry here,
We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger,
We, the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend, Pioneers! O pioneers!
3
O you youths, western youths,
So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,
Plain I see you, western youths, see you tramping with the foremost, Pioneers! O
pioneers!
4
Have the elder races halted?
Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied, over there beyond the seas?
We take up the task eternal, and the burden, and the lesson, Pioneers! O pioneers!
5
All the past we leave behind;
We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world,
Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march, Pioneers! O pioneers!
6
We detachments steady throwing,
Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep,
Conquering, holding, daring, venturing, as we go, the unknown ways, Pioneers! O pioneers!
7
We primeval forests felling,
We the rivers stemming, vexing we, and piercing deep the mines within;
We the surface broad surveying, we the virgin soil upheaving, Pioneers! O pioneers!
8
Colorado men are we,
From the peaks gigantic, from the great sierras and the high plateaus,
From the mine and from the gully, from the hunting trail we come, Pioneers! O pioneers!
9
From Nebraska, from Arkansas,
Central inland race are we, from Missouri, with the continental blood intervein’d;
All the hands of comrades clasping, all the Southern, all the Northern, Pioneers! O
pioneers!
10
O resistless, restless race!
O beloved race in all! O my breast aches with tender love for all!
O I mourn and yet exult"I am rapt with love for all, Pioneers! O pioneers!
11
Raise the mighty mother mistress,
Waving high the delicate mistress, over all the starry mistress, (bend your heads all,)
Raise the fang’d and warlike mistress, stern, impassive, weapon’d mistress, Pioneers! O
pioneers!
12
See, my children, resolute children,
By those swarms upon our rear, we must never yield or falter,
Ages back in ghostly millions, frowning there behind us urging, Pioneers! O pioneers!
13
On and on, the compact ranks,
With accessions ever waiting, with the places of the dead quickly fill’d,
Through the battle, through defeat, moving yet and never stopping, Pioneers! O pioneers!
14
O to die advancing on!
Are there some of us to droop and die? has the hour come?
Then upon the march we fittest die, soon and sure the gap is fill’d, Pioneers! O
pioneers!
15
All the pulses of the world,
Falling in, they beat for us, with the western movement beat;
Holding single or together, steady moving, to the front, all for us, Pioneers! O
pioneers!
16
Life’s involv’d and varied pageants,
All the forms and shows, all the workmen at their work,
All the seamen and the landsmen, all the masters with their slaves, Pioneers! O pioneers!
17
All the hapless silent lovers,
All the prisoners in the prisons, all the righteous and the wicked,
All the joyous, all the sorrowing, all the living, all the dying, Pioneers! O pioneers!
18
I too with my soul and body,
We, a curious trio, picking, wandering on our way,
Through these shores, amid the shadows, with the apparitions pressing, Pioneers! O
pioneers!
19
Lo! the darting bowling orb!
Lo! the brother orbs around! all the clustering suns and planets,
All the dazzling days, all the mystic nights with dreams, Pioneers! O pioneers!
20
These are of us, they are with us,
All for primal needed work, while the followers there in embryo wait behind,
We to-day’s procession heading, we the route for travel clearing, Pioneers! O pioneers!
21
O you daughters of the west!
O you young and elder daughters! O you mothers and you wives!
Never must you be divided, in our ranks you move united, Pioneers! O pioneers!
22
Minstrels latent on the prairies!
(Shrouded bards of other lands! you may sleep"you have done your work;)
Soon I hear you coming warbling, soon you rise and tramp amid us, Pioneers! O pioneers!
23
Not for delectations sweet;
Not the cushion and the slipper, not the peaceful and the studious;
Not the riches safe and palling, not for us the tame enjoyment, Pioneers! O pioneers!
24
Do the feasters gluttonous feast?
Do the corpulent sleepers sleep? have they lock’d and bolted doors?
Still be ours the diet hard, and the blanket on the ground, Pioneers! O pioneers!
25
Has the night descended?
Was the road of late so toilsome? did we stop discouraged, nodding on our way?
Yet a passing hour I yield you, in your tracks to pause oblivious, Pioneers! O pioneers!
26
Till with sound of trumpet,
Far, far off the day-break call"hark! how loud and clear I hear it wind;
Swift! to the head of the army!"swift! spring to your places, Pioneers! O pioneers.
9:19 PM - 10/18/2009 - {0} -
A Hero
Three times I had the lust to kill,
To clutch a throat so young and fair,
And squeeze with all my might until
No breath of being lingered there.
Three times I drove the demon out,
Though on my brow was evil sweat. . . .
And yet I know beyond a doubt
He'll get me yet, he'll get me yet.
I know I'm mad, I ought to tell
The doctors, let them care for me,
Confine me in a padded cell
And never, never set me free;
But Oh how cruel that would be!
For I am young - and comely too . . .
Yet dim my demon I can see,
And there is but one thing to do.
Three times I beat the foul fiend back;
The fourth, I know he will prevail,
And so I'll seek the railway track
And lay my head upon the rail,
And sight the dark and distant train,
And hear its thunder louder roll,
Coming to crush my cursed brain . . .
Oh God, have mercy on my soul!
~ Robert William Service
3:05 PM - 7/16/2009 - {0} -
Lilian
by Tennyson
I
Airy, Fairy Lilian,
Flitting, fairy Lilian,
When I ask her if she love me,
Claps her tiny hands above me,
Laughing all she can;
She 'll not tell me if she love me,
Cruel little Lilian.
II
When my passion seeks
Pleasance in love-sighs,
She, looking thro' and thro' me
Thoroughly to undo me,
Smiling, never speaks:
So innocent-arch, so cunning-simple,
From beneath her gathered wimple
Glancing with black-bearded eyes,
Till the lightning laughters dimple
The baby-roses in her cheeks;
Then away she flies.
III
Prythee weep, May Lilian!
Gaiety without eclipse
Whearieth me, May Lilian;
Thro' my every heart it thrilleth
When from crimson-threaded lips
Silver-treble laughter trilleth:
Prythee weep, May Lilian!
IV
Praying all I can,
If prayers will not hush thee,
Airy Lilian,
Like a rose-leaf I will crush thee,
Fairy Lilian.
10:58 AM - 2/5/2009 - {0} -
I came acorss this image and thought it was fantastic
10:53 PM - 12/15/2008 - {0} -
I so totally fell in love with this picture
Artist: Sam 'Zephyri' Hogg
Gallery: http://samhogg.elfwood.com/
7:38 PM - 11/21/2008 - {0} -
I really liked this and thought it was quite stunning.
Artist: Joanna Barnum
Gallery: http://www.epilogue.net/cgi/database/art/list.pl?gallery=2711&genre=2
4:20 PM - 10/31/2008 - {0} -
I do not know who the artist is, but I just happend upon this image and fell in love with it
5:09 PM - 9/12/2008 - {0} -
Witchery
- Out of the purple drifts,
- From the shadow sea of night,
- On tides of musk a moth uplifts
- Its weary wings of white.
-
- Is it a dream or ghost
- Of a dream that comes to me,
- Here in the twilight on the coast,
- Blue cinctured by the sea?
-
- Fashioned of foam and froth --
- And the dream is ended soon,
- And lo, whence came the moon-white moth
- Comes now the moth-white moon!
-
- Frank Dempster Sherman
4:20 PM - 8/24/2008 - {0} -
But if our love be dying
by Michael Field {Pen name of Englishwomen Katherine Harris Bradley (1846 - 1914) and her niece Edith Emma Cooper (1862 - 1913)}
- BUT if our love be dying let it die
- As the rose shedding secretly,
- Or as a noble music's pause:
- Let it move rhythmic as the laws
- Of the sea's ebb, or the sun's ritual
- When soverignly he dies:
- Then let a mourner rise and three times call
- Upon our love, and the long echoes fall.
-
8:36 PM - 8/16/2008 - {0} -
The Night Has A Thousand Eyes
By Francis William Bourdillon
- THE night has a thousand eyes,
- And the day but one;
- Yet the light of a bright world dies
- When day is done.
-
-
- The mind has a thousand eyes,
- And the heart but one;
- Yet the light of a whole life dies
- When love is done.
2:31 PM - 8/11/2008 - {0} -
Helen's Song
by Philip James Bailey
THE Rose is
Weeping for her love,
The nightingale.
And he is flying
Fast above,
To her he will
Not fail.
Already golden
Eve appears;
He wings his way along;
Ah! look he comes
To kiss her tears,
And soothe her
With his song.
3:26 PM - 8/10/2008 - {0} -
Silentium
By Osip Mandel'shtam
She has not yet been born,
She is both music and word,
Just as there is an unbreakable bond
Between all living things.
The breast of the sea breathes peacefully,
But, like a madman, the day dawned,
And the pale lilac foam
Forms a misty azure vessel.
And my lips find
The original muteness,
Like a crystal note,
That is pure from birth!
Remain as foam, Aphrodite,
And word, return to music,
And heart, be ashamed of heart,
Fused with the fundamentals of life!
8:14 PM - 4/25/2008 - {0} -
On A Dead Violet
The odor from the flower is gone
Which like thy kisses breathed on me;
The color from the flower is flown
Which glowed of thee and only thee!
A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form,
It lies on my abandoned breast;
And mocks the heart, which yet is warm,
With cold and silent rest.
I weep--my tears revive it not;
I sigh--it breathes no more on me:
Its mute and uncomplaining lot
Is such as mine should be.
The Waning Moon
And like a dying lady, lean and pale,
Who totters forth, wrapped in a gauzy veil,
Out of her chamber, led by the insane
And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,
The moon arose up in the murky east,
A white and shapeless mass.
11:42 PM - 4/16/2008 - {0} -
The Crystal Cabinet
by William Blake.
The Maiden caught me in the wild,
Where I was dancing merrily;
She put me into her Cabinet,
And lock'd me up with a golden key.
This cabinet is form'd of gold
And pearl and crystal shining bright,
And within it opens into a world
And a little lovely moony night.
Another England there I saw
Another London with its Tower,
Another Thames and other hills,
And another pleasant Surrey bower.
Another Maiden like herself,
Translucent, lovely, shining clear,
Threefold each in the other clos'd
O, what a pleasant trembling fear!
O, what a smile! a threefold smile
Fill'd me, that like a flame I burn'd;
I bent to kiss the lovely Maid,
And found a threefold kiss return'd.
I strove to seize the inmost form
With ardor fierce and hands of flame,
But burst the Crystal Cabinet,
And like a weeping Babe became-
A weeping Babe upon the wild,
And weeping Woman pale reclin'd,
And in the outward air again,
I fill'd with woes the passing wind.
4:06 PM - 1/16/2008 - {0} -
Pain In Pleasure
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
A thought lay like a flower upon mine heart,
And drew around it other thoughts like bees
For multitude and thirst of sweetnesses;
Whereat rejoicing, I desired the art
Of the Greek whistler, who to wharf and mart
Could lure those insect swarms from orange-trees
That I might hive with me such thoughts and please
My soul so, always. foolish counterpart
Of a weak man's vain wishes! While I spoke,
The thought I called a flower grew nettle-rough
The thoughts, called bees, stung me to festering:
Oh, entertain (cried Reason as she woke)
Your best and gladdest thoughts but long enough,
And they will all prove sad enough to sting!
10:58 AM - 1/8/2008 - {0} -
The Soul's Expression
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
With stammering lips and insufficient sound
I strive and struggle to deliver right
That music of my nature, day and night
With dream and thought and feeling interwound
And only answering all the senses round
With octaves of a mystic depth and height
Which step out grandly to the infinite
From the dark edges of the sensual ground.
This song of soul I struggle to outbear
Through portals of the sense, sublime and whole,
And utter all myself into the air:
But if I did it, - as the thunder - roll
Breaks its own cloud, my flesh would perish there,
Before that dread apocalypse of soul.
8:10 PM - 12/29/2007 - {0} -
Silent, Silent Night
William Blake
Silent, silent night,
Quench the holy light
Of thy torches bright;
For possessed of Day
Thousand spirits stray
That sweet joys betray.
Why should joys be sweet
Used with deceit,
Nor with sorrows meet?
But an honest joy
Does itself destroy
For a harlot coy.
8:08 PM - 12/27/2007 - {0} -
Change Upon Change
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
Five months ago the stream did flow,
The lilies bloomed within the sedge,
And we were lingering to and fro,
Where none will track thee in this snow,
Along the stream, beside the hedge.
Ah, Sweet, be free to love and go!
For if I do not hear thy foot,
The frozen river is as mute,
The flowers have dried down to the root:
And why, since these be changed since May,
Shouldst thou change less than they.
And slow, slow as the winter snow
The tears have drifted to mine eyes;
And my poor cheeks, five months ago
Set blushing at thy praises so,
Put paleness on for a disguise.
Ah, Sweet, be free to praise and go!
For if my face is turned too pale,
It was thine oath that first did fail, -
It was thy love proved false and frail, -
And why, since these be changed now,
Should I change less than thou.
9:32 AM - 12/14/2007 - {0} -
I do not know the author of this poem, but it comes from anceint Celtic tradition.
Little Bird
Little bird! O little bird!
I wonder at what thou doest,
Thou singing merry far from me,
I in sadness all alone!
Little bird! O little bird!
I wonder at how thou art
Thou high on the tips of branching boughs,
I on the ground a-creeping!
Little bird! O little bird!
Thou art music far away,
Like the tender croon of the mother loved
In the kindly sleep of death.
7:13 PM - 12/5/2007 - {0} -
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Description
Quote of the Week:
The war against death, dear Harry, is always a beautiful, noble, and wonderful, and glorious thing, and so, it follows, is the war against war. But it is always hopeless and quixotic too. ~Heramnn Hesse
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