Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

The Village Blacksmith

I couldn't find a sound clip of this, but like many of my generation, one of my first introductions to classical poetry came from Bullwinkle's Corner. In lieu of that here is the text, you'll have to provide the dulcet tones of Bullwinkle J. Moose.

The Village Blacksmith
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow -

Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing-floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter's voice,
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his haul, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.

Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

Looking Back

Another View from Parkway Lake, looking towards Coyote Creek.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Come back Charlie Brown, Come back

I've posted this image before, but another Charlie Brown statue, also located in Santa Rosa, was in the news over the weekend, so I thought it deserved an encore.

Happily that other statue has been returned (here).

Good grief, indeed.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

The Veins of Other Flowers

The Veins of other Flowers
The Scarlet Flowers are
Till Nature leisure has for Terms
As "Branch," and "Jugular."

We pass, and she abides.
We conjugate Her Skill
While She creates and federates
Without a syllable.

~Emily Dickinson