Unity in Diversity

Hello everyone –

With the rapid approach of Independence Day on July 4^th, I’d like to conclude this June’s special series of weekly Quotemails with some reflections on a set of ideals that our country has been nurturing since its founding. Growing steadily through the decades, and not without setbacks, from one generation to the next, we have the ideals of unity in diversity, liberty, and justice for all. Our understanding of these core values of our Republic has expanded over time, and no doubt that understanding will continue to grow as the future unfolds before us. Our society is not perfect – but we are learning and growing up into our ideals while the rest of the world is watching and learning from us.

George Washington's Letter to the Jewish Community of Newport, Rhode Island (1790)

“The Citizens of the United States of America have a right to applaud themselves for giving to Mankind examples of an enlarged and liberal policy: a policy worthy of imitation. All possess alike liberty of conscience and immunities of citizenship. It is now no more that toleration is spoken of, as if it was by the indulgence of one class of people that another enjoyed the exercise of their inherent natural rights. For happily the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.”

“The New Colossus” a/k/a “The Statue of Liberty Sonnet” (1883)

By Emma Lazarus (1849-1887)

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

STAR TREK: Vulcan Philosophy

“IDIC: Infinite Diversity, Infinite Combinations”

BABYLON 5: Episode #91

Preamble: Interstellar Alliance Declaration of Principles

The Universe speaks in many languages, but only one voice…

It speaks in the language of hope.

It speaks in the language of trust.

It speaks in the language of strength and the language of compassion.

It is the language of the heart and the language of the soul,

But always it is the same voice.

It is the voice of our ancestors, speaking through us,

And the voice of our inheritors, waiting to be born.

It is the small, still voice that says

“We are one.”

No matter the blood,

No matter the skin,

No matter the world,

No matter the star:

“We are one.”

No matter the pain,

No matter the darkness,

No matter the loss,

No matter the fear,

“We are one.”

Here, gathered together in common cause, we agree to recognize this singular truth and this singular rule:

That we must be kind to one another.

Because each voice enriches us and ennobles us, and each voice lost diminishes us.

We are the voice of the Universe, the soul of creation, the fire that will light the way to a better future.

“We are one.”

Quotemail will return next Wednesday with a special Fourth of July edition, to be followed throughout July with salutes to the space program as we remember the Golden Jubilee of the Apollo 11 lunar landing in July 1969.

Rob

Merry Midsummer 2019!

Hello everyone –

This Sunday, June 23^rd, is Midsummer Eve – a traditional 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 (which took place TODAY, June 21^st @ 10:54 AM CDT), resulting in a faint twilight glow that lingers all through the night.

In European folklore, it was believed that Midsummer Eve was when all the Fair Folk (elves, faeries, dryads, etc.) held midnight revels to celebrate the high point of the year. (This folk 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 Midsummer Eve – Fair Folk, fireflies, and all things enchanting!

“A Faery in Armor”

By Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820)

He put his acorn helmet on;
It was plumed of the silk of the thistle down;
The corslet plate that guarded his breast
Was once the wild bee's golden vest;
His cloak, of a thousand mingled dyes,
Was formed of the wings of butterflies;
His shield was the shell of a lady-bug green,
Studs of gold on a ground of green;
And the quivering lance which he brandished bright,
Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight.
Swift he bestrode his fire-fly steed;
He bared his blade of the bent-grass blue;
He drove his spurs of the cockle-seed,
And away like a glance of thought he flew,
To skim the heavens, and follow far
The fiery trail of the rocket-star.

“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!

“The Song of Wandering Aengus” (1899)

By William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

NOTE: From the Emerald Isle comes this love-quest poem inspired by classical Irish mythology. Yeats’ poem in turn served as the basis of “Rogue Planet,” the 18^th episode of the 1^st season of STAR TREK: ENTERPRISE. And just in case you’re wondering, I like this poem especially because I’ve been pursuing Learning all my life – and the pursuit is the goal. J

I went out to the hazel wood,

Because a fire was in my head,

And cut and peeled a hazel wand,

And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,

And moth-like stars were flickering out,

I dropped the berry in a stream

And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor

I went to blow the fire a-flame,

But something rustled on the floor,

And someone called me by my name:

It had become a glimmering girl

With apple blossom in her hair

Who called me by my name and ran

And faded through the brightening air.

  

Though I am old with wandering

Through hollow lands and hilly lands,

I will find out where she has gone,

And kiss her lips and take her hands;

And walk among long dappled grass,

And pluck till time and times are done,

The silver apples of the Moon,

The golden apples of the Sun.

“Fairy Song” (Excerpted from Flower Fables, 1855)

By Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888)

The moonlight fades from flower and tree,

And the stars dim one by one;

The tale is told, the song is sung,

And the Fairy feast is done.

The night-wind rocks the sleeping flowers,

And sings to them, soft and low.

The early birds erelong will wake:

‘Tis time for the Elves to go.

        

O’er the sleeping earth we silently pass,

Unseen by mortal eye,

And send sweet dreams, as we lightly float

Through the quiet moonlit sky;--

For the stars’ soft eyes alone may see,

And the flowers alone may know,

The feasts we hold, the tales we tell:

So ‘tis time for the Elves to go.

        

From bird, and blossom, and bee,

We learn the lessons they teach;

And seek, by kindly deeds, to win

A loving friend in each.

And though unseen on earth we dwell,

Sweet voices whisper low,

And gentle hearts most joyously greet

The Elves where’er they go.

        

When next we meet in the Fairy dell,

May the silver moon’s soft light

Shine then on faces gay as now,

And Elfin hearts as light.

Now spread each wing, for the eastern sky

With sunlight soon will glow.

The morning star shall light us home:

Farewell! for the Elves must go.

DEDICATION

This Merry Midsummer edition of Quotemail is dedicated to all my friends at the Center for Children’s Books at the University of Illinois. Please visit them @ http://ccb.ischool.illinois.edu to learn more about their programs and publications highlighting the best new literature for children and young adults.

Merry Midsummer, everyone! J

Rob

Flag Day: The 242nd Birthday of the Stars & Stripes!

Hello everyone –

June’s parade of patriotic holidays continues TODAY with Flag Day, which commemorates the adoption of the first “Stars and Stripes” flag by the Continental Congress in 1777. This Friday’s poems were chosen in honor of this red-white-and-blue holiday.

“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!

“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!

Next Week: Don’t miss Quotemail’s annual celebration of the Summer Solstice – STAY TUNED!

Rob

Remembering D-Day on Its 75th Anniversary

Hello everyone –

This week, we remember the 75^th anniversary of D-Day. As we pause to reflect on the achievements of the Greatest Generation (my late father and all my uncles were veterans of the World War II era), here are some poems to help us remember what the Greatest Generation fought and died for – a world of peace, justice, and freedom for all people everywhere.

“The Minstrel Boy”

By Thomas Moore (1779-1852)

The minstrel boy to the war is gone,

In the ranks of death you'll find him;

His father's sword he has girded on,

And his wild harp slung behind him;

"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard,

"Though all the world betrays thee,

One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,

One faithful harp shall praise thee!"

The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain

Could not bring his proud soul under;

The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,

For he tore its chords asunder;

And said "No chains shall sully thee,

Thou soul of love and bravery!

Thy songs were made for the pure and free

They shall never sound in slavery!"

The Minstrel Boy will return we pray

When we hear the news we all will cheer it,

The minstrel boy will return one day,

Torn perhaps in body, not in spirit.

Then may he play on his harp in peace,

In a world such as heaven intended,

For all the bitterness of man must cease,

And every battle must be ended.

“Who Would True Valor See”

By John Bunyan (1628-1688)

Excerpted from Pilgrim’s Progress (1678-1684)

1. Who would true valor see,

Let him come hither;

One here will constant be,

Come wind, come weather.

There’s no discouragement

Shall make him once relent

His first avowed intent

To be a pilgrim.

2. Whoso beset him round

With dismal stories,

Do but themselves confound;

His strength the more is.

No lion can him fright,

He’ll with a giant fight,

But he will have a right

To be a pilgrim.

3. Hobgoblin nor foul fiend

Can daunt his spirit,

He knows he at the end

Shall life inherit.

Then fancies fly away,

He’ll fear not what men say,

He’ll labor night and day

To be a pilgrim.

“In Great Deeds” by Joshua Chamberlain (1828-1914, Union General from Maine)

In great deeds, something abides. On great fields, something stays. Forms change and pass; bodies disappear; but spirits linger, to consecrate ground for the vision-place of souls. … Generations that know us not and that we know not of, heart-drawn to see where and by whom great things were suffered and done for them, shall come to this deathless field, to ponder and dream; and lo! The shadow of a mighty presence shall wrap them in its bosom, and the power of the vision pass into their souls.

Please watch for weekly installments of Quotemail between now and Independence Day, to celebrate the American spirit and the arrival of summertime.

Rob