Tuesday, October 31, 2023

A Halloween Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

"Ulalume" by Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)


The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere—
The leaves they were withering and sere;
It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year;
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir—
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once, through an alley Titanic,
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul—
Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.
These were days when my heart was volcanic
As the scoriac rivers that roll—
As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek
In the ultimate climes of the pole—
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek
In the realms of the boreal pole.

Our talk had been serious and sober,
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere—
Our memories were treacherous and sere—
For we knew not the month was October,
And we marked not the night of the year—
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!)
We noted not the dim lake of Auber—
(Though once we had journeyed down here)—
Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

And now, as the night was senescent

And star-dials pointed to morn—
As the star-dials hinted of morn—
At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a duplicate horn—
Astarte's bediamonded crescent
Distinct with its duplicate horn.

And I said—"She is warmer than Dian:
She rolls through an ether of sighs—
She revels in a region of sighs:
She has seen that the tears are not dry on
These cheeks, where the worm never dies,
And has come past the stars of the Lion
To point us the path to the skies—
To the Lethean peace of the skies—
Come up, in despite of the Lion,
To shine on us with her bright eyes—
Come up through the lair of the Lion,
With love in her luminous eyes."

But Psyche, uplifting her finger,
Said—"Sadly this star I mistrust—
Her pallor I strangely mistrust: —
Oh, hasten!—oh, let us not linger!
Oh, fly!—let us fly!—for we must."
In terror she spoke, letting sink her
Wings until they trailed in the dust—
In agony sobbed, letting sink her
Plumes till they trailed in the dust—
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied—"This is nothing but dreaming:
Let us on by this tremulous light!
Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
Its Sybilic splendor is beaming
With Hope and in Beauty to-night:—
See!—it flickers up the sky through the night!
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,
And be sure it will lead us aright—
We safely may trust to a gleaming
That cannot but guide us aright,
Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night."

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom—
And conquered her scruples and gloom;
And we passed to the end of the vista,
But were stopped by the door of a tomb—
By the door of a legended tomb;
And I said—"What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?"
She replied—"Ulalume—Ulalume—
'Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!"

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere—
As the leaves that were withering and sere,
And I cried—"It was surely October
On this very night of last year
That I journeyed—I journeyed down here—
That I brought a dread burden down here—
On this night of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber—
This misty mid region of Weir—
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,
This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir."


 

The planet Venus, as photographed in visible light by NASA's Parker Solar Probe in 2021. In Poe's poem, the planet Venus is referred by her Phoenician name, Astarte. (Photo Credit: NASA -- Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)


Wednesday, October 25, 2023

#WingedWordsWindsday: 2023/10/25 -- Celebrating Cyrus the Great Liberator

 

WINGED WORDS WINDSDAY

Compiled & Edited by Rob Chappell (@RHCLambengolmo)

Vol. 2, No. 52: October 25, 2023


 



The International Day of Cyrus the Great: Sunday, October 29


 


Editor’s Note

                This week, I’d like to call to your attention a holiday that is rising in popularity throughout the world, which occurs on Saturday. October 29th: International Cyrus the Great Day, marking the date that Cyrus and his Persian army took over the city of Babylon without violence. Cyrus was the founding Emperor of the Persian Empire, and his benevolence toward his native and conquered subjects was both exceptional and long-remembered. The Greek historian Xenophon, writing in the 4th century BCE, remarked in his biography of the great king:

 

“And those who were subject to him, he treated with esteem and regard, as if they were his own children, while his subjects themselves respected Cyrus as their "Father" ... What other man but 'Cyrus', after having overturned an empire, ever died with the title of "The Father" from the people whom he had brought under his power? For it is plain fact that this is a name for one that bestows, rather than for one that takes away!”

 

                Cyrus was renowned in his own time as a liberator of the oppressed, a promoter of religious toleration and cultural diversity, and an early champion of what we could call human rights. These characteristics of his personality, and some of his heroic deeds, are recorded in the Cyrus Cylinder, a proclamation made after Cyrus conquered Babylon in 538 BCE without bloodshed. The text of this world-famous decree can be found at https://web.archive.org/web/20180311235804/https://www.livius.org/ct-cz/cyrus_I/cyrus_cylinder2.html. Cyrus is also remembered as a heroic figure to this very day by Zoroastrians (his own community of faith, Jews, Christians, and Muslims – and his role as a liberator of the Judean exiles and as a benefactor of the Second Temple in Jerusalem are recounted in the biblical books of 2 Chronicles, Ezra, Isaiah, and Daniel.

                And so, after all these preliminaries, I present this week’s poetical gem – an excerpt from a poem about the Persian Empire by the first published poet in Britain’s North American colonies – Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672), making generous use of both historical and legendary material drawn from her vast learning. It is followed by the account of King Cyrus that is provided by the Jewish historian Flavius Josephus (37-100 CE), along with the original source from which Josephus derived his information.

 

The Second Monarchy, being the Persian, began under Cyrus, Darius being his Uncle and Father-in-law reigned with him about two years.

Cyrus Cambyses’ Son of Persia King,

Whom Lady Mandana did to him bring,

She daughter unto great Astyages,

He in descent the seventh from Arbaces.

Cambyses was of Achaemenes’ race,

Who had in Persia the Lieutenant’s place

When Sardanapalus was overthrown,

And from that time had held it as his own.

Cyrus, Darius’ Daughter took to wife,

And so unites two Kingdoms without strife.

Darius unto Mandana was brother

Adopts her son for his having no other.

This is of Cyrus the true pedigree,

Whose Ancestors were royal in degree:

His Mother’s dream and Grand-Sires cruelty,

His preservation, in his misery,

His nourishment afforded by a switch,

Are fit for such, whose ears for Fables itch.

He in his younger days an Army led,

Against great Croesus then of Lydia head;

Who over-curious of wars event,

For information to Apollo went:

And the ambiguous Oracle did trust,

So overthrown by Cyrus, as was just;

Who him pursues to Sardis, takes the Town,

Where all that dare resist, are slaughtered down;

Disguised Croesus hoped to escape in the throng,

Who had no might to right from wrong,

But as he past, his Son who was born dumb,

With pressing grief and sorrow overcome:

Among the tumult, blood-shed, and the strife

Brake his long silence, cried, spare Croesus’ life:

Croesus thus known, it was great Cyrus’ doom,

(A hard decree) to ashes he consume;

Then on a wood-pile set, where all might eye,

He Solon, Solon, Solon, thrice did cry.

The Reason of those words Cyrus demands,

Who Solon was? to whom he lifts his hands;

Then to the King he makes this true report,

That Solon sometimes at his stately Court,

His Treasures, pleasures pomp and power did fee,

And viewing all, at all nought moved was he:

That Croesus angry, urged him to express,

If ever King equaled his happiness.

(Quoth he) that man for happy we commend,

Whose happy life attains an happy end.

Cyrus with pity moved knowing Kings stand,

Now up and down, as fortune turns her hand,

Weighing the Age, and greatness of the Prince,

(His Mother’s Uncle) stories do evince:

Gave him his life, and took him for a friend,

Did to him still his chief designs commend.

Next war the restless Cyrus thought upon,

Was conquest of the stately Babylon.

Now treble walled, and moated so about,

That all the world they need not fear nor doubt;

To drain this ditch he many Sluices cut,

But till convenient time their heads kept shut;

That night Belshazzar feasted all his rout,

He cut those banks, and let the River out,

And to the walls securely marches on,

Not finding a defendant thereupon;

Enters the town, the sottish King he slays,

Upon Earth’s richest spoils his Soldiers preys;

Here twenty years provision good he found,

Forty-five miles this City scarce could round;

This head of Kingdoms Chaldees excellence,

For Owls and Satyrs made a residence,

Yet wondrous monuments this stately Queen,

A thousand years had after to be seen.

Cyrus doth now the Jewish Captives free

An Edict made, the Temple builded be,

He with his Uncle Daniel sets on high,

And caused his foes in Lions’ Den to dye.

Long after this he against the Scythians goes,

And Tomris’ Son and Army overthrows;

Which to revenge he hires a mighty power,

And sets on Cyrus, in a fatal hour;

There routs his Host, himself she prisoner takes,

And at one blow (world’s head) she headless makes

The which she bathed, within a Bit of blood,

Using such taunting words, as she thought good.

But Xenophon reports he died in his bed,

In honor, peace and wealth, with a grey head;

And in his Town of Pasargadae lies,

Where some long after sought in vain for prize,

But in his Tomb was only to be found

Two Scythian boys, a Sword and Target round:

And Alexander coming to the same,

With honors great, did celebrate his fame.

Three daughters and two Sons he left behind,

Ennobled more by birth then by their mind;

Thirty-two years in all this Prince did reign,

But eight whilst Babylon, he did retain:

And though his conquests made the earth to groan,

Now quiet lies under one marble stone.

And with an Epitaph, himself did make,

To show how little Land he then should take.

 

Cyrus the Great is enthroned at his royal court. Painting by Jean Fouquet (1420-1481). (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)


 

Flavius Josephus: Jewish Antiquities – Book XI, Chapter 1

Translated by William Whiston (1667-1752)

                1. In the first year of the reign of Cyrus, which was the seventieth from the day that our people were removed out of their own land into Babylon, God commiserated the captivity and calamity of these poor people, according as he had foretold to them by Jeremiah the prophet, before the destruction of the city, that after they had served Nebuchadnezzar and his posterity, and after they had undergone that servitude seventy years, he would restore them again to the land of their fathers, and they should build their temple, and enjoy their ancient prosperity. And these things God did afford them; for he stirred up the mind of Cyrus, and made him write this throughout all Asia: “Thus saith Cyrus the king: Since God Almighty hath appointed me to be king of the habitable earth, I believe that he is that God which the nation of the Israelites worship; for indeed he foretold my name by the prophets, and that I should build him a house at Jerusalem, in the country of Judea.”

                2. This was known to Cyrus by his reading the book which Isaiah left behind him of his prophecies; for this prophet said that God had spoken thus to him in a secret vision: “My will is, that Cyrus, whom I have appointed to be king over many and great nations, send back my people to their own land, and build my temple.” This was foretold by Isaiah one hundred and forty years before the temple was demolished. Accordingly, when Cyrus read this, and admired the Divine power, an earnest desire and ambition seized upon him to fulfill what was so written; so he called for the most eminent Jews that were in Babylon, and said to them, that he gave them leave to go back to their own country, and to rebuild their city Jerusalem, and the temple of God, for that he would be their assistant, and that he would write to the rulers and governors that were in the neighborhood of their country of Judea, that they should contribute to them gold and silver for the building of the temple, and besides that, beasts for their sacrifices.

                3. When Cyrus had said this to the Israelites, the rulers of the two tribes of Judah and Benjamin, with the Levites and priests, went in haste to Jerusalem; yet did many of them stay at Babylon, as not willing to leave their possessions; and when they were come thither, all the king's friends assisted them, and brought in, for the building of the temple, some gold, and some silver, and some a great many cattle and horses. So they performed their vows to God, and offered the sacrifices that had been accustomed of old time; I mean this upon the rebuilding of their city, and the revival of the ancient practices relating to their worship. Cyrus also sent back to them the vessels of God which King Nebuchadnezzar had pillaged out of the temple, and had carried to Babylon. So he committed these things to Mithridates, the treasurer, to be sent away, with an order to give them to Sheshbazzar, that he might keep them till the temple was built; and when it was finished, he might deliver them to the priests and rulers of the multitude, in order to their being restored to the temple. Cyrus also sent an epistle to the governors that were in Syria, the contents whereof here follow:

                “King Cyrus to Sisinnes and Sathrabuzanes sendeth greeting.

                “I have given leave to as many of the Jews that dwell in my country as please to return to their own country, and to rebuild their city, and to build the temple of God at Jerusalem on the same place where it was before. I have also sent my treasurer Mithridates, and Zerubbabel, the governor of the Jews, that they may lay the foundations of the temple, and may build it sixty cubits high, and of the same latitude, making three edifices of polished stones, and one of the wood of the country, and the same order extends to the altar whereon they offer sacrifices to God. I require also that the expenses for these things may be given out of my revenues. Moreover, I have also sent the vessels which King Nebuchadnezzar pillaged out of the temple, and have given them to Mithridates the treasurer, and to Zerubbabel the governor of the Jews, that they may have them carried to Jerusalem, and may restore them to the temple of God. Now their number is as follows: Fifty chargers of gold, and five hundred of silver; forty Thericlean cups of gold, and five hundred of silver; fifty basons of gold, and five hundred of silver; thirty vessels for pouring [the drink-offerings], and three hundred of silver; thirty vials of gold, and two thousand four hundred of silver; with a thousand other large vessels. I permit them to have the same honor which they were used to have from their forefathers, as also for their small cattle, and for wine and oil, two hundred and five thousand and five hundred drachmae; and for wheat flour, twenty thousand and five hundred artabae; and I give order that these expenses shall be given them out of the tributes due from Samaria. The priests shall also offer these sacrifices according to the laws of Moses in Jerusalem; and when they offer them, they shall pray to God for the preservation of the king and of his family, that the kingdom of Persia may continue. But my will is, that those who disobey these injunctions, and make them void, shall be hung upon a cross, and their substance brought into the king's treasury.”

                And such was the import of this epistle. Now the number of those that came out of captivity to Jerusalem were forty-two thousand four hundred and sixty-two.

 

1 Esdras 2:1-15 (LXX)

Translated by Sir Lancelot C. L. Brenton (1807-1862)

                In the first year of Cyrus king of the Persians, that the word of the Lord might be accomplished, that he had promised by the mouth of Jeremiah; the Lord raised up the spirit of Cyrus the king of the Persians, and he made proclamation through all his kingdom, and also by writing, saying, “Thus saith Cyrus king of the Persians; The Lord of Israel, the Most High Lord, hath made me king of the whole world, and commanded me to build him an house at Jerusalem in Jewry.

                “If therefore there be any of you that are of his people, let his Lord be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem that is in Judea, and build the house of the Lord of Israel: for he is the Lord that dwelleth in Jerusalem. Whosoever then dwell in the places about, let them help him, those, I say, that are his neighbors, with gold, and with silver, with gifts, with horses, and with cattle, and other things, which have been set forth by vow, for the temple of the Lord at Jerusalem.”

                Then the chief of the families of Judea and of the tribe of Benjamin stood up; the priests also, and the Levites, and all they whose mind the Lord had moved to go up, and to build an house for the Lord at Jerusalem, and they that dwelt round about them, and helped them in all things with silver and gold, with horses and cattle, and with very many free gifts of a great number whose minds were stirred up thereto. King Cyrus also brought forth the holy vessels which Nebuchadnezzar had carried away from Jerusalem, and had set up in his temple of idols.

                Now when Cyrus king of the Persians had brought them forth, he delivered them to Mithridates his treasurer: and by him they were delivered to Sheshbazzar the governor of Judea. And this was the number of them; A thousand golden cups, and a thousand of silver, censers of silver twenty-nine, vials of gold thirty, and of silver two thousand four hundred and ten, and a thousand other vessels. So all the vessels of gold and of silver, which were carried away, were five thousand four hundred threescore and nine. These were brought back by Sheshbazzar, together with them of the captivity, from Babylon to Jerusalem.

 

Rembrandt’s painting of King Cyrus and the prophet Daniel, inspired by the account of Bel and the Dragon, which is appended to the book of Daniel (as its fourteenth chapter) in the Septuagint Greek and Latin Vulgate translations of the Hebrew Scriptures. (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

 


 

Friday, October 20, 2023

Pumpkin Carols & Poems for Halloween

Hello everyone – 

When I was in third grade, way back in the 1970s, our teacher, Miss Begeman, taught our class several “pumpkin carols” to sing for Halloween. These were featured prominently at our class’s annual Halloween party in late October. Everyone was excited to go trick-or-treating for UNICEF in the early afternoon; we then returned to the school for our celebration. In addition to pumpkin carols, snippets of spooky poetry were also recited during the festivities.

Here are a few of my favorite spooky poems, which remind us that Halloween is not only a time for fun and games, but also a time to think back and remember, with heartfelt affection, “all those whom we love, but no longer see.”

 

“The Shadow on the Stone”

By Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)

 

I went by the Druid stone

That broods in the garden white and lone,  

And I stopped and looked at the shifting shadows  

That at some moments fall thereon

From the tree hard by with a rhythmic swing,  

And they shaped in my imagining

To the shade that a well-known head and shoulders  

Threw there when she was gardening.

 

I thought her behind my back,

Yea, her I long had learned to lack,

And I said: ‘I am sure you are standing behind me,  

Though how do you get into this old track?’  

And there was no sound but the fall of a leaf  

As a sad response; and to keep down grief

I would not turn my head to discover

That there was nothing in my belief.

 

Yet I wanted to look and see

That nobody stood at the back of me;

But I thought once more: ‘Nay, I’ll not unvision  

A shape which, somehow, there may be.’  

So I went on softly from the glade,

And left her behind me throwing her shade,  

As she were indeed an apparition—

My head unturned lest my dream should fade.

 

“Halloween”

By John Kendrick Bangs (1862-1922)

 

The ghosts of all things past parade,

Emerging from the mist and shade

That hid them from our gaze,

And, full of song and ringing mirth,

In one glad moment of rebirth,

And again they walk the ways of earth

As in the ancient days.

 

The beacon light shines on the hill,

The will-o'-wisps the forests fill

With flashes filched from noon;

And witches on their broomsticks spry

Speed here and yonder in the sky,

And lift their strident voices high

Unto the Hunter's Moon.

 

The air resounds with tuneful notes

From myriads of straining throats,

All hailing Folly Queen;

So join the swelling choral throng,

Forget your sorrow and your wrong,

In one glad hour of joyous song

To honor Halloween!

 

“Dusk in Autumn”

By Sara Teasdale (1884-1933)

 

The Moon is like a scimitar,

A little silver scimitar,

A-drifting down the sky.

And near beside it is a star,

A timid twinkling golden star,

That watches like an eye.

 

And through the nursery window-pane

The witches have a fire again,

Just like the ones we make, —

And now I know they’re having tea,

I wish they’d give a cup to me,

With witches’ currant cake.

 

“Hallowe’en in a Suburb”

By H. P. Lovecraft (1890-1937)

 

The steeples are white in the wild moonlight,

And the trees have a silver glare;

Past the chimneys high see the vampires fly,

And the harpies of upper air,

That flutter and laugh and stare.

 

For the village dead to the moon outspread

Never shone in the sunset’s gleam,

But grew out of the deep that the dead years keep

Where the rivers of madness stream

Down the gulfs to a pit of dream.

 

A chill wind weaves thro’ the rows of sheaves

In the meadows that shimmer pale,

And comes to twine where the headstones shine

And the ghouls of the churchyard wail

For harvests that fly and fail.

 

Not a breath of the strange grey gods of change

That tore from the past its own

Can quicken this hour, when a spectral power

Spreads sleep o’er the cosmic throne

And looses the vast unknown.

 

So here again stretch the vale and plain

That moons long-forgotten saw,

And the dead leap gay in the pallid ray,

Sprung out of the tomb’s black maw

To shake all the world with awe.

 

And all that the morn shall greet forlorn,

The ugliness and the pest

Of rows where thick rise the stones and brick,

Shall someday be with the rest,

And brood with the shades unblest.

 

Then wild in the dark let the lemurs bark,

And the leprous spires ascend;

For new and old alike in the fold

Of horror and death are penned,

For the hounds of Time to rend.

 

A Halloween card from 1904. (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

 

Happy Halloween! 😊

Rob

 

Tuesday, October 17, 2023

#WingedWordsWindsday: 2023/10/18 -- The Pleiades

 

WINGED WORDS WINDSDAY

Compiled & Edited by Rob Chappell (@RHCLambengolmo)

Vol. 2, No. 51: October 18, 2023

 





The Pleiades: The Celestial Seven Sisters

 


A Note from the Editor

                Longtime readers of this blog are aware of my lifelong interest in astronomy. As the nights grow longer and cooler, we are able to see the stars come out a few minutes earlier each evening! J Here’s a selection of my favorite poems about the Pleiades star cluster (a/k/a M45, the Seven Sisters), which is visible on October nights from about 7:30 PM onward. This delightful star cluster is located about 400 light-years from Earth, in the constellation Taurus (the Bull), which is one of the thirteen “signs of the Zodiac.”

 

The Pleiades (Photo Credit: NASA – Public Domain)

 


“The Pleiades” (Excerpts)

From Star Names: Their Lore and Meaning (1899)

By R. H. Allan (1838-1908)

                The Pleiades, the Narrow Cloudy Train of Female Stars of Manilius, and the Starry Seven, Old Atlas' Children, of Keats' Endymion, have everywhere been among the most noted objects in the history, poetry, and mythology of the heavens; though, as Aratus wrote, “not a mighty space holds all, and they themselves are dim to see.”

                All literature contains frequent allusions to them, and in late years they probably have been more attentively and scientifically studied than any other group.

                The Pleiades seem to be among the first stars mentioned in astronomical literature, appearing in Chinese annals of 2357 BC., Alcyone, the lucida, then being near the vernal equinox, although now 24° north of the celestial equator; and in the Hindu lunar zodiac as the 1st nakshatra, Krittika,​ Karteek, or Kartiguey, the General of the Celestial Armies, probably long before 1730 BC, when precession carried the equinoctial point into Aries. Al-Biruni, referring to this early position of the equinox in the Pleiades, which he found noticed "in some books of Hermes,"​ wrote: “This statement must have been made about 3000 years and more before Alexander.”

                And their beginning the astronomical year gave rise to the title "the Great Year of the Pleiades" for the cycle of precession of about 25,900 years.

                In the 5th century before Christ Euripides mentioned them with Aetos, our Altair, as nocturnal timekeepers; and Sappho, a century previously, marked the middle of the night by their setting. Centuries still earlier Hesiod and Homer brought them into their most beauti­ful verse; the former calling them [Op. et D. 383] Atlagenes, Atlas-born. The patriarch Job is thought to refer to them twice in his word Kīmāh, a Cluster, or Heap, which the Hebrew herdsman-prophet Amos, probably contemporary with Hesiod, also used; the prophet's term being translated "the seven stars" in our Authorized Version, but "Pleiades" in the Revised. The similar Babylonian-Assyrian Kimtu, or Kimmatu, signifies a "Family Group," for which the Syrians had Kīmā, quoted in Humboldt's Cosmos as Gemat; this most natural simile is repeated in Seneca's Medea as densos Pleiadum greges. Manilius had Glomerabile Sidus, the Rounded Asterism, equivalent to the  Globus Pleiadum of Valerius Flaccus; while Brown translates the Pleiades of Aratus as the Flock of Clusterers.

 

 

“Stars”

By Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall (1883-1922)

 

Now in the West the slender Moon lies low,

And now Orion glimmers through the trees,

Clearing the Earth with even pace and slow,

And now the stately-moving Pleiades,

In that soft infinite darkness overhead

Hang jewel-wise upon a silver thread.

 

And all the lonelier stars that have their place,

Calm lamps within the distant southern sky,

And planet-dust upon the edge of space,

Look down upon the fretful world, and I

Look up to outer vastness unafraid

And see the stars which sang when Earth was made.

 


“The Pleiades”

By Amy Lowell (1874-1925)

 

By day you cannot see the sky

For it is up so very high.

You look and look, but it's so blue

That you can never see right through.

 

But when night comes it is quite plain,

And all the stars are there again.

They seem just like old friends to me,

I've known them all my life you see.

 

There is the dipper first, and there

Is Cassiopeia in her chair,

Orion's belt, the Milky Way,

And lots I know but cannot say.

 

One group looks like a swarm of bees,

Papa says they're the Pleiades;

But I think they must be the toy

Of some nice little angel boy.

 

Perhaps his jackstones which to-day

He has forgot to put away,

And left them lying on the sky

Where he will find them by and by.

 

I wish he'd come and play with me.

We'd have such fun, for it would be

A most unusual thing for boys

To feel that they had stars for toys!

 

 

“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.

 

 

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.

Here about the beach I wandered, nourishing a youth sublime

With the fairy tales of science, and the long result of Time;

When the centuries behind me like a fruitful land reposed;

When I clung to all the present for the promise that it closed:

When I dipped into the future far as human eye could see;

Saw the Vision of the world and all the wonder that would be. —

Saw the heavens fill with commerce, argosies of magic sails,

Pilots of the purple twilight dropping down with costly bales;

Heard the heavens fill with shouting, and there rained a ghastly dew

From the nations' airy navies grappling in the central blue;

Far along the world-wide whisper of the south-wind rushing warm,

With the standards of the peoples plunging thro' the thunder-storm;

Till the war-drum throbbed no longer, and the battle-flags were furled

In the Parliament of Man, the Federation of the World.

There the common sense of most shall hold a fretful realm in awe,

And the kindly Earth shall slumber, lapped in universal law.

 


Poem #48 by Sappho (ca. 630-570 BCE)

The sinking Moon has left the sky,
The Pleiades have also gone.
Midnight comes – and goes, the hours fly
And solitary still, I lie.

 


From The Works and Days (Lines 383 ff.)

By Hesiod (fl. 8th century BCE)

 

When the Pleiades, Atlas’ daughters, start to rise, begin your harvest; plough when they go down. For forty days and nights, they hide themselves, and as the year rolls round, appear again when you begin to sharpen sickle-blades; this law holds on the plains and by the sea, and in the mountain valleys, fertile lands far from the swelling sea.

 

The Nebra Sky Disc (pictured above) was unearthed in Germany in 1999. Dating from 1600 BCE, the Pleiades cluster of seven stars appears prominently between the depictions of the Sun and Moon. (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)