Juno & the 4th of July

Dear Family, Friends, and Colleagues:

As the U.S.A. celebrates its 240^th birthday on Monday, July 4^th, astronomers and space enthusiasts all over the world will be celebrating the 40^th anniversary of the Viking I probe’s landing on Mars (7/4/1976) AND the arrival of NASA’s Juno probe at Jupiter. Juno, named after the wife of Jupiter in Roman mythology, will examine the giant planet’s atmosphere and inner structure, as well as take photos of Jupiter and its manifold moons. The four largest moons of Jupiter (Io, Europa, Ganymede, and Callisto) were discovered by Galileo in 1609 using his famous telescope. All of them, except for Io, probably harbor subsurface oceans of liquid water, which would be prime hunting grounds for life beyond our world. J

To celebrate Juno’s arrival at Jupiter, and planetary exploration in general, here are a couple of poems featuring the planet Jupiter, along with two ancient snippets of verse about Juno (a/k/a Hera in Greek mythology).

“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.”

Editor’s Note:

          The annual cycle of the seasons and its effects on our natural surroundings are recurring themes throughout world literature. The Orphic poets – a guild of ancient Greek philosopher-bards named after their legendary founder, Orpheus – celebrated the changing of the seasons, the wonders of the natural world, and their lofty ideals in poetic chants, several dozen of which were preserved in written form after centuries of oral transmission. In the poetic forms of their prescientific age (ca. 1000-500 BCE), the Orphic poets chose to personify the forces of Nature, the celestial orbs, and abstract ideals in order to explain how and why the natural world and the human social order function in the ways that they do.

          The Homeric school of poetry, founded perhaps by Homer himself (fl. ca. 8th century BCE), and carried forward by his disciples and successors for many generations, also produced poems that celebrated heroic deeds and the mysterious forces of Nature, many of which were personified as divine or semidivine beings. In both of the following poems, we can learn how the ancient Greek philosopher-bards perceived Hera/Juno, not as a jealous, vindictive person (as in literal interpretations of Greek mythology), but as a benevolent, life-giving aspect of Nature that contributed to the well-being of all life on Earth.

Orphic Hymn #15: “To Juno”

O Royal Juno of majestic mien,

Aerial-formed, divine, Jove’s blessed queen,

Throned in the bosom of caerulean air,

The race of mortals is thy constant care.

The cooling gales thy power alone inspires,

Which nourish life, which every life desires.

Mother of clouds and winds, from thee alone

Producing all things, mortal life is known:

All natures share thy temperament divine,

And universal sway alone is thine.

With sounding blasts of wind, the swelling sea

And rolling rivers roar, when shook by thee.

Come, blessed, divine, famed, almighty queen,

With aspect kind, rejoicing and serene.

Homeric Hymn #12: “To Hera” (a/k/a Juno)

I sing of golden-throned Hera whom Rhea bore. Queen of the immortals is she, surpassing all in beauty: she is the sister and the wife of loud-thundering Zeus, —the glorious one whom all the blessed throughout high Olympus reverence and honor even as Zeus who delights in thunder.

Happy 4^th of July weekend! J

Rob

Happy Summer Solstice! :)

Dear Family, Friends, & Colleagues:

Next Monday, June 20^th, is the Summer Solstice – the longest day and shortest night of the year. This June, it also features the Full Honey Moon, so called because this particular Full Moon is the southernmost Full Moon of the year and can take on a honey-gold appearance because of the summer haze that hugs the horizon on warm nights. The Summer Solstice is a traditional astronomical holiday that celebrates the long days and short nights of summertime with bonfires, dancing, feasting, and singing under the stars. In areas north of 50 degrees latitude, the night sky never becomes completely dark at the Summer Solstice, resulting in a faint twilight glow that lingers all through the night.

In European folklore, it was believed that the Summer Solstice was when all the Fair Folk (elves, faeries, dryads, etc.) held midnight revels to celebrate the high point of the year. (This belief is reflected in Shakespeare’s comedy, A Midsummer Night’s Dream.) So in this edition of Quotemail, we have some poems about things that one might expect to see on the night of the Summer Solstice – Fair Folk, fireflies, the Full Moon, and all the starry host!

“Escape at Bedtime”

By Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)

The lights from the parlor and kitchen shone out

Through the blinds and the windows and bars;

And high overhead and all moving about,

There were thousands of millions of stars.

There ne’er were such thousands of leaves on a tree,

Nor of people in church or the Park,

As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me,

And that glittered and winked in the dark.

The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all,

And the star of the sailor, and Mars,

These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall

Would be half full of water and stars.

They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries,

And they soon had me packed into bed;

But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes,

And the stars going round in my head.

“The Moon”

By Robert Louis Stevenson

The Moon has a face like the clock in the hall;

She shines on thieves on the garden wall,

On streets and fields and harbor quays,

And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees.

The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,

The howling dog by the door of the house,

The bat that lies in bed at noon,

All love to be out by the light of the Moon.

But all of the things that belong to the day

Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way;

And flowers and children close their eyes

Till up in the morning the Sun shall arise.

“The Firefly”

By Evaleen Stein (1863-1923)

Flash and flicker and fly away,
Trailing light as you flutter far,
Are you a lamp for the faeries, say?
Or a flake of fire from a falling star?

“Faery Rings”

By Evaleen Stein

[This poem explains how people before the Space Age explained the origin of “crop circles.” Truly, there’s nothing new under the sun! – RHC] :)

Softly in the gloaming
Flitting through the vale,
Faery folk are roaming
Over hill and dale.

Pixies in the hollow,
Elves upon the height,
Let us follow, follow
Through the paling light.

Follow, all unbidden,
To the grassy glade
Wrapped around and hidden
In the forest shade.

Hark the elfin tinkle
Of their little lutes!
Mark the golden twinkle
Of their faery flutes!

See them dancing, dancing,
While the silver moon
Tips their swiftly glancing
Little silver shoon!

Tripping, tripping lightly,
Where their footprints fall,
Look! the grass is brightly
Growing green and tall!

Springing close, unbroken,
In a faery ring,
For tomorrow’s token
Of their frolicking!

As has become traditional at the Summer Solstice, I’d like to dedicate this fortnight’s Quotemail to all my friends at the Center for Children’s Books at the University of Illinois. Please visit them @ http://ccb.lis.illinois.edu/ to learn more about their programs and publications highlighting the best new literature for children and young adults.

Happy Summer Solstice, everyone! :)

Rob

P.S. My Flag Day Quotemail wasn’t sent out on schedule due to technical difficulties with Microsoft Outlook. However, you can read it in its entirety on my blog @ http://rhcfortnightlyquotemail.blogspot.com.

Happy Flag Day! :)

Dear Family, Friends, & Colleagues:

TODAY -- Tuesday, June 14^th -- is Flag Day in the United States – so here’s a collection of patriotic poems to celebrate the red, white, and blue! :)

“Columbia the Gem of the Ocean” (1843)

By David T. Shaw & Thomas A. Becket, Sr.

This patriotic song served as an unofficial national anthem for the United States until 1931. It was especially popular during the Civil War Era (1861-1865).

1. O Columbia! the gem of the ocean,

The home of the brave and the free,

The shrine of each patriot’s devotion,

A world offers homage to thee;

Thy mandates make heroes assemble,

When Liberty’s form stands in view;

Thy banners make tyranny tremble,

When borne by the red, white, and blue.

When borne by the red, white, and blue,

When borne by the red, white, and blue,

Thy banners make tyranny tremble,

When borne by the red, white and blue.

2. When war winged its wide desolation,

And threatened the land to deform,

The ark then of freedom’s foundation,

Columbia rode safe through the storm;

With her garlands of victory around her,

When so proudly she bore her brave crew;

With her flag proudly waving before her,

The boast of the red, white and blue.

The boast of the red, white and blue,

The boast of the red, white, and blue,

With her flag proudly floating before her,

The boast of the red, white and blue.

3. The Union, the Union forever,

Our glorious nation’s sweet hymn,

May the wreaths it has won never wither,

Nor the stars of its glory grow dim,

May the service united never sever,

But they to their colors prove true.

The Army and Navy forever,

Three cheers for the red, white, and blue.

Three cheers for the red, white, and blue,

Three cheers for the red, white, and blue,

The Army and Navy forever,

Three cheers for the red, white and blue.

“Betsy’s Battle Flag”

By Minna Irving (1872)

This poem was written in homage to Betsy Ross, who is widely credited with producing the first edition of the “Stars and Stripes” American flag for the Continental Congress in 1777.

1. From dusk till dawn the livelong night

She kept the tallow dips alight,

And fast her nimble fingers flew

To sew the stars upon the blue.

With weary eyes and aching head

She stitched the stripes of white and red.

And when the day came up the stair

Complete across a carven chair

Hung Betsy’s battle-flag.

2. Like shadows in the evening gray

The Continentals filed away,

With broken boots and ragged coats,

But hoarse defiance in their throats;

They bore the marks of want and cold,

And some were lame and some were old,

And some with wounds untended bled,

But floating bravely overhead

Was Betsy’s battle-flag.

3. When fell the battle’s leaden rain,

The soldier hushed his moans of pain

And raised his dying head to see

King George’s troopers turn and flee.

Their charging column reeled and broke,

And vanished in the rolling smoke,

Before the glory of the stars,

The snowy stripes, and scarlet bars

Of Betsy’s battle-flag.

4. The simple stone of Betsy Ross

Is covered now with mold and moss,

But still her deathless banner flies,

And keeps the color of the skies.

A nation thrills, a nation bleeds,

A nation follows where it leads,

And every man is proud to yield

His life upon a crimson field

For Betsy’s battle-flag!

“BARBARA FRIETCHIE” (1864)

BY JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER (1807-1892)

“This poem was written in strict conformity to the account of the incident as I had it from respectable and trustworthy sources. It has since been the subject of a good deal of conflicting testimony, and the story was probably incorrect in some of its details. It is admitted by all that Barbara Frietchie was no myth, but a worthy and highly esteemed gentlewoman, intensely loyal and a hater of the Slavery Rebellion, holding her Union flag sacred and keeping it with her Bible; that when the Confederates halted before her house, and entered her dooryard, she denounced them in vigorous language, shook her cane in their faces, and drove them out; and when General Burnside’s troops followed close upon Jackson’s, she waved her flag and cheered them. It is stated that May Quantrell, a brave and loyal lady in another part of the city, did wave her flag in sight of the Confederates. It is possible that there has been a blending of the two incidents.”  -- JGW

Up from the meadows rich with corn,

Clear in the cool September morn,

The clustered spires of Frederick stand

Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.

Round about them orchards sweep,

Apple and peach tree fruited deep,

Fair as the garden of the Lord

To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,

On that pleasant morn of early fall

When Lee marched over the mountain wall;

Over the mountains winding down,

Horse and foot, into Frederick town.

Forty flags with their silver stars,

Forty flags with their crimson bars,

Flapped in the morning wind; the sun

Of noon looked down, and saw not one.

Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,

Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;

Bravest of all in Frederick town,

She took up the flag the men hauled down;

In her attic window the staff she set,

To show that one heart was loyal yet.

Up the street came the rebel tread,

Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.

Under his slouched hat left and right

He glanced; the old flag met his sight.

“Halt!” -- the dust-brown ranks stood fast.

“Fire!” -- out blazed the rifle-blast.

It shivered the window, pane and sash;

It rent the banner with seam and gash.

Quick, as it fell, from the broken staff

Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf.

She leaned far out on the window-sill,

And shook it forth with a royal will.

“Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,

But spare your country's flag,” she said.

A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,

Over the face of the leader came;

The nobler nature within him stirred

To life at that woman’s deed and word:

“Who touches a hair of yon gray head

Dies like a dog! March on!” he said.

All day long through Frederick street

Sounded the tread of marching feet;

All day long that free flag tost

Over the heads of the rebel host.

Ever its torn folds rose and fell

On the loyal winds that loved it well;

And through the hill-gaps sunset light

Shone over it with a warm good-night.

Barbara Frietchie’s work is o’er,

And the Rebel rides on his raids no more.

Honor to her! and let a tear

Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall’s bier.

Over Barbara Frietchie’s grave,

Flag of Freedom and Union, wave!

Peace and order and beauty draw

Round thy symbol of light and law;

And ever the stars above look down

On thy stars below in Frederick town!

Keep your eyes on the Grand Old Flag!

Rob