Here is a poem by Alfred Noyes, that I think our art lovers will enjoy. The second is just a sweet romantic poem, by Stephen Foster, that reminds me of a lullaby. What do you think? TD
The Elfin Artist
In a glade of an elfin forest
When Sussex was Eden-new,
I came on an elvish painter
And watched as his picture grew,
A harebell nodded beside him.
He dipt his brush in the dew.
And it might be the wild thyme round him
That shone in the dark strange ring;
But his brushes were bees' antennae,
His knife was a wasp's blue sting;
And his gorgeous exquisite palette
Was a butterfly's fan-shaped wing.
And he mingled its powdery colours,
And painted the lights that pass,
On a delicate cobweb canvas
That gleamed like a magic glass,
And bloomed like a banner of elf-land,
Between two stalks of grass;
Till it shone like an angel's feather
With sky-born opal and rose,
And gold from the foot of the rainbow,
And colours that no man knows;
And I laughed in the sweet May weather,
Because of the themes he chose.
For he painted the things that matter,
The tints that we all pass by,
Like the little blue wreaths of incense
That the wild thyme breathes to the sky;
Or the first white bud of the hawthorn,
And the light in a blackbird's eye;
And the shadows on soft white cloud-peaks
That carolling skylarks throw,--
Dark dots on the slumbering splendours
That under the wild wings flow,
Wee shadows like violets trembling
On the unseen breasts of snow;
With petals too lovely for colour
That shake to the rapturous wings,
And grow as the bird draws near them,
And die as he mounts and sings,--
Ah, only those exquisite brushes
Could paint these marvellous things.
Alfred Noyes
Beautiful Dreamer
Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;
Sounds of the rude world heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd a way!
Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;
Gone are the cares of life's busy throng,
--Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea
Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie;
Over the streamlet vapors are borne,
Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn.
Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart,
E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea;
Then will all clouds of sorrow depart,
--Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!
- by Stephen Foster
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
DC Update...
Hello everyone,
This is going to be our first book that we actually spend time to discuss.
If you would like to join the discussion, then please read
"The Man Who Was Thursday" by G.K. Chesterton
by August 1st.
On that day, (roughly) we will begin to discuss the book more in depth, and hopefully have a good conversation going. Sound good? Alright then, have fun reading!
Thanks,
The DC Board
This is going to be our first book that we actually spend time to discuss.
If you would like to join the discussion, then please read
"The Man Who Was Thursday" by G.K. Chesterton
by August 1st.
On that day, (roughly) we will begin to discuss the book more in depth, and hopefully have a good conversation going. Sound good? Alright then, have fun reading!
Thanks,
The DC Board
Friday, July 3, 2009
The Man Who Was Thursday
Hello everyone,
Originally, I had planned to post on Sunday, but I realized that I wouldn't be able to. That being said, let's move on.
Lately, I read for the first time the book "The Man Who Was Thursday," by G.K. Chesterton. I was pretty convinced that I would like it, but I was really not sure what to expect (in the storyline). Much to my pleasure, I was not disappointed. I can honestly say that I have no definite idea why I thought the book was FANTASTIC. I shall try to explain this to the best of my abilities.
I liked this book because of the suspenseful and mystery-like storyline. (Not scary, though.) After reading a few chapters, I had already been extremely surprised at the turn of events, and I decided that this story could not possibly surprise me again. I was very wrong. It continually surprised me until the very last page. Never before have I read a book that entirely grabbed my attention and held it until the last page. This book had just the right amount of everything, from fantasy to reality. You may ask how any one book could be so real, but yet so... imaginary. Believe me, I am still baffled. I don't want to tell about the storyline, because if you knew one part, then I would have to tell you the whole story. When I finished, I could not believe that it was over... I was majorly depressed afterwards.
This book was truly enthralling, and everyone should give it a try because even suspense-haters may end up liking it... a lot. I feel like I could read it over and over again. It was not particularly difficult to understand, but it could be frustrating for younger readers. Anyway, everybody: I beg you to read this book and then tell me what you thought. Oh, and feel free to ask me questions if I did not speak/write clearly. Thanks so much!!
~Dewhurst
5/5 Recommended
Originally, I had planned to post on Sunday, but I realized that I wouldn't be able to. That being said, let's move on.
Lately, I read for the first time the book "The Man Who Was Thursday," by G.K. Chesterton. I was pretty convinced that I would like it, but I was really not sure what to expect (in the storyline). Much to my pleasure, I was not disappointed. I can honestly say that I have no definite idea why I thought the book was FANTASTIC. I shall try to explain this to the best of my abilities.
I liked this book because of the suspenseful and mystery-like storyline. (Not scary, though.) After reading a few chapters, I had already been extremely surprised at the turn of events, and I decided that this story could not possibly surprise me again. I was very wrong. It continually surprised me until the very last page. Never before have I read a book that entirely grabbed my attention and held it until the last page. This book had just the right amount of everything, from fantasy to reality. You may ask how any one book could be so real, but yet so... imaginary. Believe me, I am still baffled. I don't want to tell about the storyline, because if you knew one part, then I would have to tell you the whole story. When I finished, I could not believe that it was over... I was majorly depressed afterwards.
This book was truly enthralling, and everyone should give it a try because even suspense-haters may end up liking it... a lot. I feel like I could read it over and over again. It was not particularly difficult to understand, but it could be frustrating for younger readers. Anyway, everybody: I beg you to read this book and then tell me what you thought. Oh, and feel free to ask me questions if I did not speak/write clearly. Thanks so much!!
~Dewhurst
5/5 Recommended
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Out of the Silent Planet
Greetings, my lords and my ladies, aka fellow book-wormy geeks!
Out of the Silent Planet is by C.S. Lewis. He wrote it because Tolkien challenged him to write a book about outer space. (They had somewhat of a dare exchange. Tolkien agreed he would write a book about time travel if Lewis wrote one about space travel.) I believe it is considered a children's book, though it has a much higher reading level than the Chronicles of Narnia, a series also written by C.S. Lewis.
This book is about a man who gets kidnapped and taken into outer space, the things he discovers and meets there, and how he eventually finds his way back to earth.
I began reading this book thinking I would really enjoy it. I've read every one of the books in the Chronicles of Narnia and loved almost every one. So I was almost sure I'd love this book too. Well, to be frank, I was wrong. My attention was never conquered at any part of the book, and therefore most of the time I kind of had to force myself to sit down and read it. It contained nothing very intriguing in my opinion. It was considerably dull at some parts, and as for the others, I simply was not amused at what was happening. I'm not that interested in outer space. If I was, perhaps I would find it more compelling. I'm just not. So I just didn't.
It's not that I hate this book; indeed there is nothing wrong with it. But nothing in or about it interested me other than the fact it was written by C.S. Lewis, of whom I am an avid fan.
Rated 2/5
I apologize if I have offended those who are a fan of this book :) but this is my honest opinion. Thanks.
~Lady Arwen
P.S. Regarding my last post on The Tempest: if I may, I'd just like to let you know that after giving it much thought I have changed my rating for The Tempest. I've changed it to 3/5 instead of 2/5. Thank you.
Out of the Silent Planet is by C.S. Lewis. He wrote it because Tolkien challenged him to write a book about outer space. (They had somewhat of a dare exchange. Tolkien agreed he would write a book about time travel if Lewis wrote one about space travel.) I believe it is considered a children's book, though it has a much higher reading level than the Chronicles of Narnia, a series also written by C.S. Lewis.
This book is about a man who gets kidnapped and taken into outer space, the things he discovers and meets there, and how he eventually finds his way back to earth.
I began reading this book thinking I would really enjoy it. I've read every one of the books in the Chronicles of Narnia and loved almost every one. So I was almost sure I'd love this book too. Well, to be frank, I was wrong. My attention was never conquered at any part of the book, and therefore most of the time I kind of had to force myself to sit down and read it. It contained nothing very intriguing in my opinion. It was considerably dull at some parts, and as for the others, I simply was not amused at what was happening. I'm not that interested in outer space. If I was, perhaps I would find it more compelling. I'm just not. So I just didn't.
It's not that I hate this book; indeed there is nothing wrong with it. But nothing in or about it interested me other than the fact it was written by C.S. Lewis, of whom I am an avid fan.
Rated 2/5
I apologize if I have offended those who are a fan of this book :) but this is my honest opinion. Thanks.
~Lady Arwen
P.S. Regarding my last post on The Tempest: if I may, I'd just like to let you know that after giving it much thought I have changed my rating for The Tempest. I've changed it to 3/5 instead of 2/5. Thank you.
Monday, June 22, 2009
The Highwayman
Good morning!!
Here is a really cool poem by Alfred Noyes. This poem, like Longfellow's Paul Revere's Ride, has a beat like the drummimg of horses hooves. While your reading it, see if you can feel it. It is bizarre, but awesome. TD
The Highwayman - Alfred Noyes (1880-1958)
PART ONE
I
THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
II
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
III
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
IV
And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—
V
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
VI
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.
PART TWO
I
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George's men came matching, up to the old inn-door.
II
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.
III
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!
IV
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it!
The trigger at least was hers!
V
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain .
VI
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!
VII
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.
VIII
He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
IX
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
* * * * * *
X
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
XI
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
Here is a really cool poem by Alfred Noyes. This poem, like Longfellow's Paul Revere's Ride, has a beat like the drummimg of horses hooves. While your reading it, see if you can feel it. It is bizarre, but awesome. TD
The Highwayman - Alfred Noyes (1880-1958)
PART ONE
I
THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
II
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
III
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
IV
And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—
V
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
VI
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.
PART TWO
I
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George's men came matching, up to the old inn-door.
II
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.
III
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!
IV
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it!
The trigger at least was hers!
V
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain .
VI
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!
VII
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.
VIII
He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
IX
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
* * * * * *
X
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
XI
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
The Cricket on the Hearth
Hi People,
A book by our very own Charles Dickens! Finally!
I recently finished for the second time The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens. It is the story of a man named John Peerybingle and his wife Dot. The story is basically the narrative of an incident in the life of these two people. The cricket's role in the play is simply to bring them good luck, he is the guardian of the home. The cricket is not very important. Other characters weave in and out of the story with most of the time little importance. The plot is so small I could tell the whole story in two sentences, so I will say no more. I think the moral of the story is to never judge things by appearance. Now for my opinion. The first time I read it I thought it was the weirdest thing ever but, the second time it made more sense. One of the things that threw me off the most was that it was very unlike any Dickens book I have read yet. The story line was well... simple. There was nothing big and complicated about it. There was no major twists in the story. I'm not sure if that is a Plus or a Minus . There were a few things that threw me for a loop but over all I enjoyed the book the second time around. I am really going to enjoy all the comments on this one.
$ The Dodge $
3/5 Recommended
A book by our very own Charles Dickens! Finally!
I recently finished for the second time The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens. It is the story of a man named John Peerybingle and his wife Dot. The story is basically the narrative of an incident in the life of these two people. The cricket's role in the play is simply to bring them good luck, he is the guardian of the home. The cricket is not very important. Other characters weave in and out of the story with most of the time little importance. The plot is so small I could tell the whole story in two sentences, so I will say no more. I think the moral of the story is to never judge things by appearance. Now for my opinion. The first time I read it I thought it was the weirdest thing ever but, the second time it made more sense. One of the things that threw me off the most was that it was very unlike any Dickens book I have read yet. The story line was well... simple. There was nothing big and complicated about it. There was no major twists in the story. I'm not sure if that is a Plus or a Minus . There were a few things that threw me for a loop but over all I enjoyed the book the second time around. I am really going to enjoy all the comments on this one.
$ The Dodge $
3/5 Recommended
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Captains Courageous
Greetings, followers!
I have just finished reading Rudyard Kipling's novel, Captains Courageous. Having never read a book by Kipling before, I had almost no idea what to expect. I had been meaning to get into his books for a long time, and this seemed like a good opportunity.
Captains Courageous tells the story of Harvey Cheyne, a spoiled rich kid who falls off the side of an ocean liner and gets picked up by a bunch of fishermen, led by captain Disko Troop (coolest name ever.) Disko won't take him back to his parents, so he has to stay on the boat and learn to be a sailor.
I found Kipling's style to be very appealing. He's sort of a tough-guy writer, not unlike Mark Twain, but not nearly as funny. Much of the dialog in this book is in heavy dialect, which may be confusing to some people. You just have to pay close attention to know what's going on when the sailors are talking. I thought the plot was pretty exciting and the narritive pretty well-structured. Although I did enjoy this book, I get the sense that this isn't Kipling's best book by a long shot. That being said, it may be a good place to start if you aren't familiar with his work. After having read this, I'm excited to read some of his more well-known stuff, like Jungle Book.
3/5 Recommended.
Now, how about some questions for the comments...
1. Have you ever read a Kipling book before? What do you think of his style?
2. Is Disko Troop the coolest name ever or what?
I have just finished reading Rudyard Kipling's novel, Captains Courageous. Having never read a book by Kipling before, I had almost no idea what to expect. I had been meaning to get into his books for a long time, and this seemed like a good opportunity.
Captains Courageous tells the story of Harvey Cheyne, a spoiled rich kid who falls off the side of an ocean liner and gets picked up by a bunch of fishermen, led by captain Disko Troop (coolest name ever.) Disko won't take him back to his parents, so he has to stay on the boat and learn to be a sailor.
I found Kipling's style to be very appealing. He's sort of a tough-guy writer, not unlike Mark Twain, but not nearly as funny. Much of the dialog in this book is in heavy dialect, which may be confusing to some people. You just have to pay close attention to know what's going on when the sailors are talking. I thought the plot was pretty exciting and the narritive pretty well-structured. Although I did enjoy this book, I get the sense that this isn't Kipling's best book by a long shot. That being said, it may be a good place to start if you aren't familiar with his work. After having read this, I'm excited to read some of his more well-known stuff, like Jungle Book.
3/5 Recommended.
Now, how about some questions for the comments...
1. Have you ever read a Kipling book before? What do you think of his style?
2. Is Disko Troop the coolest name ever or what?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)