Poems for Fall Break & Thanksgiving

Dear Members, Alumni, and Friends of the JSMT:

Quotemail will be going on hiatus for a few weeks while I undergo and recover from surgery on November 20^th. We’ll resume distribution in early-mid December with poems and prose to celebrate the holiday season. In the meantime, however, Fall Break and Thanksgiving are just around the corner, so here are some versified treats to enjoy as we make the transition from late autumn into early winter.

“The Lone Pumpkin” (Anonymous)

Contributed by WLB :)

A lone pumpkin grew on a green pumpkin vine.

He was round; he was fat; he was yellow!

“No silly Jack-O-Lantern shall I make,” he said.

“I’m determined that I’ll be a useful fellow!”

So he raised up his head when the cook came around,

And she chose him at once as the winner!

Now the glory of the Jack is in the candle,

On the gatepost where his grin sits up so high!

And the glory of the turkey is the drumstick,

But the glory of the pumpkin is the pie!

“Simple Gifts” by Shaker Elder Joseph Brackett, Jr. (1848)

1. ‘Tis the gift to be simple,
‘Tis the gift to be free,
‘Tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
It will be in the valley of love and delight.

Refrain: 

When true simplicity is gained,
To bow and to bend we shan’t be ashamed.
And to turn, turn will be our delight,
‘Til by turning, turning we come round right.

2. ‘Tis the gift to be loved and that love to return,
‘Tis the gift to be taught and a richer gift to learn,
And when we expect of others what we try to live each day,
Then we’ll all live together and we’ll all learn to say,

Refrain

3. ‘Tis the gift to have friends and a true friend to be,
‘Tis the gift to think of others not to only think of “me,”
And when we hear what others really think and really feel,
Then we’ll all live together with a love that is real. 

Refrain

“Leaves” by Anonymous

The leaves had a wonderful frolic.

They danced to the wind’s loud song.

They whirled, and they floated, and scampered.

They circled and flew along.

The Moon saw the little leaves dancing.

Each looked like a small brown bird.

The Man in the Moon smiled and listened.

And this is the song he heard.

“The North Wind is calling, is calling,

And we must whirl round and round,

And then, when our dancing is ended,

We’ll make a warm quilt for the ground.”

Until next time –

Rob :)

November 2014 Leadership Reflection

Leadership Reflection for November 2014

If at First You Don’t Succeed – Try, Try Again

Anonymous Victorian portrait of Robert the Bruce, King of Scotland (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

        November 1^st marks the beginning of the Keltik New Year, so in honor of this auspicious occasion, I’d like to share with you a traditional Keltik legend about patience and perseverance in leadership, which illustrates the famous couplet:

“If at first you don’t succeed,

Try, try again.”

à William Edward Hickson (1803–1870)

        Robert the Bruce (1274-1329) had been crowned King of Scotland in 1306, at a time when his country was fighting for its independence from the overlordship of England and its King, Edward II. The War for Scottish Independence lasted for more than a generation, and during the protracted conflict, numerous atrocities were perpetrated against the Scottish people, their institutions, and their country’s infrastructure by English forces. King Robert had fought bravely against the English invaders, but after losing a series of six battles, he was tempted to despair. A hunted man, he fled from one hiding place to the next, trying to figure out his next move. One day, while hiding in a hut, his whole outlook was changed by an encounter with a spider.

“Bruce and the Spider”

By Bernard Barton (1784-1849)

For Scotland’s and for freedom’s right

The Bruce his part has played; --

In five successive fields of fight

Been conquered and dismayed:

Once more against the English host

His band he led, and once more lost

The meed for which he fought;

And now from battle, faint and worn,

The homeless fugitive, forlorn,

A hut’s lone shelter sought.

And cheerless was that resting-place

For him who claimed a throne; --

His canopy, devoid of grace,

The rude, rough beams alone;

The heather couch his only bed --

Yet well I ween had slumber fled

From couch of eider down!

Through darksome night till dawn of day,

Absorbed in wakeful thought he lay

Of Scotland and her crown.

The Sun rose brightly, and its gleam

Fell on that hapless bed,

And tinged with light each shapeless beam

Which roofed the lowly shed;

When, looking up with wistful eye,

The Bruce beheld a spider try

His filmy thread to fling

From beam to beam of that rude cot --

And well the insect’s toilsome lot

Taught Scotland’s future King.

Six times the gossamery thread

The wary spider threw; --

In vain the filmy line was sped,

For powerless or untrue

Each aim appeared, and back recoiled

The patient insect, six times foiled,

And yet unconquered still;

And soon the Bruce, with eager eye,

Saw him prepare once more to try

His courage, strength, and skill.

One effort more, his seventh and last! --

The hero hailed the sign! --

And on the wished-for beam hung fast

That slender silken line!

Slight as it was, his spirit caught

The more than omen; for his thought

The lesson well could trace,

Which even “he who runs may read,”

That Perseverance gains its meed,

And Patience wins the race.

        At the Battle of Bannockburn (1314), King Robert won a decisive victory over the English invaders, secured the throne of Scotland for himself, and guaranteed sovereignty for the Scottish people. Six years later, on April 6^th, 1320, King Robert and the Scottish nobles promulgated the Scottish Declaration of Independence to announce to the family of nations that Scotland would remain a free and independent country. This document (also known as the Declaration of Arbroath) would later inspire the Founding Fathers of the United States to adopt their own Declaration of Independence at Philadelphia on July 4^th, 1776. J

Note: The full text of the Scottish Declaration of Independence can be read online (http://www.nas.gov.uk/about/090401.asp) from the National Archives of Scotland (in the original Latin, with an English translation).

Happy Birthdaze!

Dear Members, Alumni, & Friends of the JSMT:

Saturday, November 8^th marks the 19^th birthday of the Quotemail emailing list AND the 19^th birthday of our youngest listmember, my cousin A.N.A. The nineteenth birthday is highly significant for us all, because when we turn 19 (or 38 or 57 or 76 or 95 or 114), the phases of the Moon occur on exactly the same days of the calendar month as in the year we were born. This means that if you look outside your window on Saturday night, the Moon will be in exactly the same spot in the sky as on the day when Quotemail and A.N.A. were both born. :) This 19-year calendrical phenomenon is known as the Metonic Cycle, which was discovered by the ancient Greek astronomer Meton of Athens (fl. ca. 432 BCE).

In honor of the Metonic Cycle, two birthdays, and the longstanding interest in astronomy that I share with many of our listmembers, here’s a selection of my favorite poems about the night sky and its denizens. We begin with an invocation to Urania, the Greek Muse of Astronomy.

From Paradise Lost: Book 7, Lines 1-20

By John Milton (1608-1674)

Descend from Heaven, Urania, by that name
If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine
Following, above the Olympian hill I soar,
Above the flight of Pegasean wing!
The meaning, not the name, I call: for thou
Nor of the Muses nine, nor on the top
Of old Olympus dwellest; but, heavenly-born,
Before the hills appeared, or fountain flowed,
Thou with eternal Wisdom didst converse,
Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play
In presence of the Almighty Father, pleased
With thy celestial song. Up led by thee
Into the Heaven of Heavens I have presumed,
An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air,
Thy tempering: with like safety guided down
Return me to my native element:
Lest from this flying steed unreined, (as once
Bellerophon, though from a lower clime,)
Dismounted, on the Aleian field I fall,
Erroneous there to wander, and forlorn.

“On the Beach at Night”

By Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

On the beach at night,

Stands a child with her father,

Watching the east, the autumn sky.

 

Up through the darkness,

While ravening clouds, the burial clouds, in black masses spreading,

Lower sullen and fast athwart and down the sky,

Amid a transparent clear belt of ether yet left in the east,

Ascends large and calm the lord-star Jupiter,

And nigh at hand, only a very little above,

Swim the delicate sisters the Pleiades.

 

From the beach the child holding the hand of her father,

Those burial-clouds that lower victorious soon to devour all,

Watching, silently weeps.

 

Weep not, child,
Weep not, my darling,

With these kisses let me remove your tears,

The ravening clouds shall not long be victorious,

They shall not long possess the sky, they devour the stars only in apparition,

Jupiter shall emerge, be patient, watch again another night, the Pleiades shall emerge,

They are immortal, all those stars both silvery and golden shall shine out again,

The great stars and the little ones shall shine out again, they endure,

The vast immortal suns and the long-enduring pensive moons shall again shine.

 

Then dearest child mournest thou only for Jupiter?

Considerest thou alone the burial of the stars?

 

Something there is,

(With my lips soothing thee, adding I whisper,

I give thee the first suggestion, the problem and indirection,)

Something there is more immortal even than the stars,

(Many the burials, many the days and nights, passing away,)

Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter

Longer than sun or any revolving satellite,

Or the radiant sisters the Pleiades.

“Wanderers”

By Walter de la Mare (1873-1956)

Wide are the meadows of night,
And daisies are shining there,
Tossing their lovely dews,
Lustrous and fair;

And through these sweet fields go,
Wanderers amid the stars --
Venus, Mercury, Uranus, Neptune,
Saturn, Jupiter, Mars.

‘Tired in their silver, they move,
And circling, whisper and say,
“Fair are the blossoming meads of delight
Through which we stray.”

From “Locksley Hall”

By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892)

Many a night from yonder ivied casement, ere I went to rest,
Did I look on great Orion sloping slowly to the West.
Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising through the mellow shade,
Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid.

HAPPY 19^TH BIRTHDAY TO QUOTEMAIL AND A.N.A., MY YOUNGEST COUSIN! :)

Rob