Memorial Day: Poems and Reflections

Hello everyone – 

In this edition of Quotemail, we remember all our departed heroes, from many times and climes, those whom we have known and loved, and those whom we have never had the honor to know personally, but to whom we are nonetheless deeply grateful for their service and sacrifice.

The observance of Memorial Day (originally known as Decoration Day) began in the aftermath of the American Civil War. It was first widely observed in both North and South during May 1867. In my family, this is a day to remember my Dad and all my uncles – all of whom were veterans of the World War II era – and my maternal grandfather, a veteran of the First American Expeditionary Force in World War I. Here are a few poems and reflections to remind us of all the heroes who have died in defense of our country – not only during the Civil War, but also before and after.

 

“Decoration Day”

By Evaleen Stein (1863-1923)

 

See the soldiers, little ones!

   Hark the drummers' beat!

See them with their flags and guns

   Marching down the street!

 

Tattered flags from out the wars,

   Let us follow these

To the little stripes and stars

   Twinkling through the trees.

 

Watch them waving through the grass

   Where the heroes sleep!

Thither gently let us pass

   On this day we keep.

 

Let us bring our blossoms, too,

   All our gardens grow;

Lilacs honey-sweet with dew,

   And the lilies' snow.

 

Every posy of the May,

   Every bloomy stem,

Every bud that breaks to-day

   Gather now for them.

 

Lay the lilies o'er them thus,

   Lovingly, for so

Down they laid their lives for us,

   Long and long ago.

 

Heap above them bud and bough;

   Softly, ere we cease,

God, we pray Thee, gently now

   Fold them in Thy peace!

 

The following patriotic hymn may already be familiar to many readers. It was performed at my Dad’s memorial service in June 2010.

 

"I Vow to Thee, My Country" (1921)

By Sir Cecil Spring Rice

 

I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,

Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;

The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,

That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;

The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,

The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.

 

And there's another country, I've heard of long ago,

Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;

We may not count her armies, we may not see her King;

Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;

And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,

And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.

 

Unveiling of the Statue of Liberty Enlightening the World (1886) by Edward Moran. (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

 

“Crossing the Bar” (1889)

By Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1807-1892)

 

Sunset and evening star,

And one clear call for me!

And may there be no moaning of the bar,

When I put out to sea,

 

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,

Too full for sound and foam,

When that which drew from out the boundless deep

Turns again home.

 

Twilight and evening bell,

And after that the dark!

And may there be no sadness of farewell,

When I embark;

 

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place

The flood may bear me far,

I hope to see my Pilot face to face

When I have crossed the bar.

 

Tennyson remarked about this poem: “The Pilot has been on board all the while, but in the dark I have not seen him… [He is] that Divine and Unseen Who is always guiding us.”

 

Let us close with the first stanza of “Bivouac of the Dead,” a poem composed in 1847 by Theodore O’Hara to memorialize his fallen comrades from the Mexican-American War. These lines appear in national (especially military) cemeteries throughout the United States, including Camp Butler National Cemetery outside Springfield, Illinois, where my father’s mortal remains were laid to rest twelve years ago this summer.

 

The muffled drum’s sad roll has beat

The soldier’s last tattoo;

No more on Life’s parade shall meet

That brave and fallen few.

On Fame’s eternal camping ground

Their silent tents to spread,

And Glory guards, with solemn round

The bivouac of the dead.

 

Requiescant in pace. (May they rest in peace.)

 

Hroberahtus (Rob)

 

#WingedWordsWindsday: 05/25/2022 -- The Enchanted World of Classic Stories

 

WINGED WORDS WINDSDAY

Compiled by Rob Chappell (@RHCLambengolmo)

Vol. 1, No. 30: May 25, 2022

 

“The Enchanted World of Classic Stories”

By Rob Chappell, M.A.

Adapted & Expanded from Cursus Honorum VII: 6 (January 2007)

Long before the advent of television, radio, movies, and the Internet, storytelling provided our agrarian forebears with endless hours of edutainment. The myths, legends, and folktales transmitted by storytellers and collected by scholars demonstrate how our ancestors viewed their relationship with the natural world and with the invisible powers that were believed to dwell within and beyond it.

Our pre-industrial ancestors’ worldview was built upon the foundation of shared stories that defined the nature of their common life together. Classic tales were handed down from one generation to the next because they conveyed important life lessons in engaging and memorable ways. Adults who spent their earliest years listening to spellbinding tales being recited from memory or read aloud from a storybook passed on their favorite stories to their children – along with the values and lessons that the stories contained.

The following anthologies of classic tales, available in several printed editions and on the Internet, can provide us with the keys to an enchanted realm where the magic of the storyteller’s art can enthrall us for hours on end in the theater of the mind!

 

·         The Panchatantra, compiled by the Indian sage Vishnu Sharma (fl. ca. 200 BCE), is a vast collection of traditional animal tales from ancient India. It was designed to educate young royals on the principles of ethical leadership, and over the past two millennia, it has become the most translated literary work from the Indian subcontinent. The perennially popular tales of the Panchatantra have had an enduring impact on literary traditions throughout the world!

·         The Arabian Nights: Collected over a timespan of several centuries, beginning at the royal court of the learned Caliph Harun Al-Rashid (763-809) in Baghdad, these stories include such rollicking adventures as Aladdin, Sindbad the Sailor, Ali Baba, and many others. Although these 1001 tales were compiled in the Arabic language, they have a truly international flavor, having originated in such diverse places as China, India, Persia, the Arabian Peninsula, and Egypt.

·         The Grimms’ Fairy Tales: Collected by the scholarly German brothers Jakob (1785-1863) and Wilhelm (1786-1859) Grimm, this anthology showcases the traditional household tales of the German-speaking peoples of Central Europe. Many of our most familiar children’s stories (e.g., The Frog Prince, Rapunzel, etc.) first found their way into print through the Grimms’ anthology. However, the original tales are far more colorful than the versions adapted for children!

·         Bulfinch’s Mythology: Compiled by Thomas Bulfinch, a Bostonian classicist (1796-1867), this is the ultimate anthology of timeless tales from ancient and medieval times. His monumental compendium is sometimes divided into three separate volumes: (I) The Age of Fable, (II) The Age of Chivalry, and (III) Legends of Charlemagne. Each of Bulfinch’s lively retellings is drawn from authentic original source material.

·         Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875) created marvelous tales from his own imagination that conveyed his profound insights into the human condition. All of Andersen’s stories are worthwhile reading, both the well-known (e.g., The Ugly Duckling) and ones that are sometimes overlooked (e.g., The Snow Queen).

·         George MacDonald (1824-1905) is the Editor’s favorite author of literary fairy tales. His masterpieces include Phantastes (1858), At the Back of the North Wind (1871), and Lilith (1895). All of his fairy tales, written both for the young and the young at heart, invite readers to appreciate the hidden wonders all around us that we encounter on life’s journey.

·         The Fairy Books of Many Colors are anthologies of classic tales from around the world and across the centuries. They were compiled, edited, and published between 1889 and 1913 by Andrew Lang (1844-1912) and his wife, Leonora Blanche Alleyne Lang (1851-1933). These multicultural stories, drawn from myths, legends, folktales, histories, and biographies, are a collective treasure-trove of storytelling that can be enjoyed by readers of all ages.

 

This illustration comes from a Persian manuscript of the Panchatantra dated to 1429. (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

 

 

 

 

 

 

#WingedWordsWindsday: 05/18/2022 -- Taliesin, The Doctor, and the Galactic Core

 WINGED WORDS WINDSDAY

Compiled by Rob Chappell (@RHCLambengolmo)

Vol. 1, No. 29: May 18, 2022

 

Taliesin, The Doctor, and the Galactic Core

 

Editor’s Note

                Taliesin was a Welsh bard – probably a Christian Druid – of the sixth century CE, who may have been associated with Merlin and King Arthur. Various tales of his bardic prowess and Otherworldly adventures began to circulate after his death or disappearance, and these were compiled and transmitted by his disciples and successors. His legendary biography appears as an appendix to the Mabinogion, a collection of medieval Welsh myths and legends. He also figures prominently in Geoffrey of Monmouth’s versified Vita Merlini (Life of Merlin) from the 12^th century. In the 20^th century, Charles Williams published two collections of Arthurian poetry that revolve around Taliesin: Taliesin Through Logres and The Region of the Summer Stars.

                Several poems attributed to Taliesin have come down to us from the Middle Ages, most notably in the Welsh Book of Taliesin. Two of these poems appear below, and they constitute an early specimen of what we might call “proto-science-fiction,” in which Taliesin is portrayed as a traveler through time and space, whose homeland is situated somewhere in “the region of the summer stars.” One has to wonder if the creators of Doctor Who had Taliesin in mind when they came up with the character of The Doctor – an immortal extraterrestrial traveler through time and space.

 

This imaginative illustration of “An Archdruid in His Judicial Habit” comes from The Costume of the Original Inhabitants of the British Islands by S. R. Meyrick and C. H. Smith (1815).

 

“Primary Chief Bard”

(Attributed to Taliesin)

 

Primary chief bard am I to Elphin,

And my original country is the region of the Summer Stars.

Idno and Heinin called me Myrddin;

At length every king will call me Taliesin.

 

I was with my Lord in the highest sphere

On the fall of Lucifer into the depth of hell.

I have borne a banner before Alexander.

I know the names of the stars from north to south.

I have been in the Galaxy at the throne of the Distributor.

I was in Canaan when Absalom was slain.

I conveyed Awen to the level of the vale of Hebron.

I was in the court of Don before the birth of Gwydion.

I was instructor to Eli and Enoch.

I have been winged by the genius of the splendid crozier.

I have been loquacious prior to being gifted with speech.

I was at the place of the crucifixion of the merciful Son of God.

I have been three periods in the prison of Arianrhod.

I have been the chief director of the work of the tower of Nimrod.

I am a wonder whose origin is not known.

I have been in Asia with Noah in the Ark.

I have witnessed the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah.

I have been in India when Rome what built.

I am now come here to the remnant of Troy.

I have been with my Lord in the manger of the ass.

I strengthened Moses through the water of Jordan.

I have been in the firmament with Mary Magdalene.

I have obtained the Muse from the Cauldron of Cerridwen.

I have been bard of the harp to Leon of Lochlin.

I have been on the White Hill, in the court of Cymbeline,

For a day and a year in stocks and fetters,

I have suffered hunger for the Son of the Virgin.

I have been fostered in the land of the Deity.

I have been teacher to all intelligences.

I am able to instruct the whole Universe.

I shall be until the day of doom on the face of the Earth,

And it is not known whether my body is flesh or fish.

 

Then I was for nine months

In the womb of the hag Cerridwen.

I was originally little Gwion,

And at length I am Taliesin.

 

“Alexander the Great”

(Attributed to Taliesin)

 

I wonder that there is not proclaimed

An acknowledgment of heaven to the Earth,

Of the coming of a giant Ruler,

Alexander the Great.

Alexander, possessor of multitudes,

Passionate, iron-gifted,

Eminent for sword-strokes.

He went under the sea,

Under the sea he went,

To seek for science.

Whoever seeks science,

Let him be clamorous in mind.

He went above the wind,

Between two griffins on a journey,

To see a sight.

A sight he saw,

The present was not sufficient.

He saw a wonder,

A superiority of lineage with fishes.

‘What he desired in his mind,

He had from the world.

And also at his end

With God, mercy.

 

At the core of our Milky Way Galaxy lies the supermassive black hole, Sagittarius A* -- imaged for the first time ever just last week! This NASA composite photo shows the galactic core, which is located in the summer constellation of Sagittarius as seen from Earth. Taliesin sang, “I have been in the Galaxy at the throne of the Distributor” and “my original country is the region of the Summer Stars.” 😊

 

 

Celebrating the Class of 2022

Hello everyone – 

This fortnight’s quotations are dedicated to all our listmembers who are receiving their academic degrees as members of the ACES James Scholar Diamond Jubilee Class of 2022 These are some of my all-time favorite pieces of poetical wisdom, packaged together just for our graduates.

“THE HIGHER LIFE” (1913)

By Madeline S. Brigham

 

There are royal hearts, there are spirits brave,

There are souls that are pure and true;

Then give to the world the best you have,

And the best will come back to you.

 

Give love, and love to your life will flow,

And strength in your utmost needs;

Have faith, and a score of hearts will show

Their faith in your work and deeds.

 

Give truth, and your gift will be paid in kind,

And a song a song will meet;

And the smile which is sweet will surely find

A smile that is just as sweet.

 

Give pity and sorrow to those that mourn,

You will gather in flowers again

The scattered seeds from your thoughts outborne,

Though the sowing seemed in vain.

 

For life is the mirror of king and knave,

‘Tis just what we are and do;

Then give to the world the best you have,

And the best will come back to you.

 

“Say Not, the Struggle Naught Availeth”

By Arthur Hugh Clough (1819-1861)

 

Say not, the struggle naught availeth,

The labor and the wounds are vain,

The enemy faints not, nor faileth,

And as things have been, they remain.

 

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;

It may be, in yon smoke concealed,

Your comrades chase even now the fliers,

And, but for you, possess the field.

 

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,

Seem here no painful inch to gain,

Far back, through creeks and inlets making,

Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

 

And not by eastern windows only,

When daylight comes, comes in the light;

In front the Sun climbs slow, how slowly!

But westward, look, the land is bright!

 

“We can never see the sunrise by looking toward the west.” – Traditional Japanese Proverb

 

“A Psalm of Life”

(What the Heart of the Young Man Said to the Psalmist)

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

 

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

Life is but an empty dream ! —

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

 

Life is real !   Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal ;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul.

 

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way ;

But to act, that each to-morrow

Find us farther than to-day.

 

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums, are beating

Funeral marches to the grave.

 

In the world's broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle !

Be a hero in the strife !

 

Trust no Future, however pleasant !

Let the dead Past bury its dead !

Act,— act in the living Present !

Heart within, and God overhead !

 

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time ;

 

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing, shall take heart again.

 

Let us, then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate ;

Still achieving, still pursuing,

Learn to labor and to wait.

 

Look out world -- here they come -- the Class of 2022, at the vanguard of the Phoenix Generation!

Rob 😊

The Earth as viewed from Apollo 17 in December 1972. (Photo Credit: Public Domain -- NASA)