Happy New Year, everyone –
Around this time
of year, right after the Yuletide holidays are over, I’m reminded of one of my
all-time favorite heroes, Galileo (1564-1642), who passed over on January 8th,
just short of what would have been his 78th birthday on February 15th.
(I will have more to say about Galileo on my blog @ https://rhcfortnightlyquotemail.blogspot.com
in mid-February!) š Galileo spoke truth to power in his day, yet even in defeat,
he remained steadfast in his firm conviction that philosophy, religion, and
science could still chant in three-part harmony, celebrating universal truths
for the benefit of all humanity – just like the “music of the spheres” that
Pythagoras had proposed over 2000 years before Galileo walked the Earth.
In this painting,
the English poet John Milton (left) visits Galileo (right) during the late
1630s, while Galileo was under house arrest by the Inquisition.
Here are three
poems that I like to remember and ponder over whenever I think about Galileo –
a truly star-studded hero from my childhood days onward!
“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.
“The Spacious
Firmament on High”
By Joseph
Addison (1672-1719)
[Based on Psalm
19]
The spacious
firmament on high,
With all the blue
ethereal sky,
And spangled
heavens, a shining frame,
Their great
Original proclaim:
The unwearied Sun,
from day to day,
Does his Creator’s
power display,
And publishes to
every land
The work of an
almighty hand.
Soon as the
evening shades prevail,
The Moon takes up
the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the
listening Earth
Repeats the story
of her birth:
Whilst all the
stars that round her burn,
And all the
planets, in their turn,
Confirm the
tidings as they roll,
And spread the
truth from pole to pole.
What though, in
solemn silence, all
Move round the
dark terrestrial ball?
What though no
real voice nor sound
Amidst their
radiant orbs be found?
In Reason’s ear
they all rejoice,
And utter forth a
glorious voice,
Forever singing,
as they shine,
The hand that made
us is divine.
“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.
Until next time –
keep looking up! š
Rob
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