#WingedWordsWindsday: 2023/03/29 -- Springing into April: National Poetry Month

 WINGED WORDS WINDSDAY

Compiled by Rob Chappell (@RHCLambengolmo)

Vol. 2, No. 22: March 29, 2023

 

 

Springing into April: National Poetry Month!

https://poets.org/national-poetry-month/

 

“Budding-Time Too Brief”

By Evaleen Stein (1863-1923)

 

O little buds, break not so fast!

  The spring’s but new.

  The skies will yet be brighter blue,

  And sunny too.

I would you might thus sweetly last       

Till this glad season’s overpast,

  Nor hasten through.

 

It is so exquisite to feel

  The light warm Sun;

  To merely know the winter done,       

  And life begun;

And to my heart no blooms appeal

For tenderness so deep and real,

  As any one

 

Of these first April buds, that hold       

  The hint of spring’s

  Rare perfectness that May-time brings.

  So take not wings!

Oh, linger, linger, nor unfold

Too swiftly through the mellow mould,       

  Sweet growing things!

 

And errant birds, and honey-bees,

  Seek not to wile;

  And, Sun, let not your warmest smile

  Quite yet beguile     

The young peach-boughs and apple-trees

To trust their beauty to the breeze;

  Wait yet awhile!

 

“Up, Little Ones!”

By Evaleen Stein (1863-1923)

 

A robin redbreast, fluting there

Upon the apple-bough,

Is telling all the world how fair

Are apple-blossoms now;

The honey-dew its sweetness spills

From cuckoo-cups, and all

The crocuses and daffodils

Are dressed for festival!

 

Such pretty things are to be seen,

Such pleasant things to do,

The April Earth it is so green,

The April sky so blue,

The path from dawn to even-song

So joyous is to-day,

Up, little ones! And dance along

The lilac-scented way!

 

Woodblock print of Mount Fuji and a Sakura (cherry blossom) tree from Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji by Hiroshige (1797-1858). The Sakura trees usually bloom in April at Japan House (https://japanhouse.illinois.edu). (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

 

“A Calendar of Sonnets: April”

By Helen Hunt Jackson (1830-1885)

 

No days such honored days as these! While yet

Fair Aphrodite reigned, men seeking wide

For some fair thing which should forever bide

On earth, her beauteous memory to set

In fitting frame that no age could forget,

Her name in lovely April's name did hide,

And leave it there, eternally allied

To all the fairest flowers Spring did beget.

And when fair Aphrodite passed from earth,

Her shrines forgotten and her feasts of mirth,

A holier symbol still in seal and sign,

Sweet April took, of kingdom most divine,

When Christ ascended, in the time of birth

Of spring anemones, in Palestine.

 

“The Four Seasons of the Year: Spring”

By Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672)

 

Another four I've left yet to bring on,

Of four times four the last Quaternion,

The Winter, Summer, Autumn & the Spring,

In season all these Seasons I shall bring:

Sweet Spring like man in his Minority,

At present claimed, and had priority.

With smiling face and garments somewhat green,

She trimmed her locks, which late had frosted been,

Nor hot nor cold, she spake, but with a breath,

Fit to revive, the numbed earth from death.

Three months (quoth she) are 'lotted to my share

March, April, May of all the rest most fair.

Tenth of the first, Sol into Aries enters,

And bids defiance to all tedious winters,

Crosseth the Line, and equals night and day,

(Still adds to the last till after pleasant May)

And now makes glad the darkened northern wights

Who for some months have seen but starry lights.

Now goes the Plow-man to his merry toil,

He might unloose his winter locked soil:

The Seeds-man too, doth lavish out his grain,

In hope the more he casts, the more to gain:

The Gardener now superfluous branches lops,

And poles erects for his young clambering hops.

Now digs then sows his herbs, his flowers & roots

And carefully manures his trees of fruits.

The Pleiades their influence now give,

And all that seemed as dead afresh doth live.

The croaking frogs, whom nipping winter killed

Like birds now chirp, and hop about the field,

The Nightingale, the black-bird and the Thrush

Now tune their lays, on sprays of every bush.

The wanton frisking Kid, and soft-fleeced Lambs

Do jump and play before their feeding Dams,

The tender tops of budding grass they crop,

They joy in what they have, but more in hope:

For though the frost hath lost his binding power,

Yet many a fleece of snow and stormy shower

Doth darken Sol's bright eye, makes us remember

The pinching North-west wind of cold December.

My second month is April, green and fair,

Of longer days, and a more temperate Air:

The Sun in Taurus keeps his residence,

And with his warmer beams glanceth from thence

This is the month whose fruitful showers produces

All set and sown for all delights and uses:

The Pear, the Plum, and Apple-tree now flourish

The grass grows long the hungry beast to nourish.

The Primrose pale, and azure violet

Among the verdurous grass hath nature set,

That when the Sun on his Love (the earth) doth shine

These might as lace set out her garment fine.

The fearful bird his little house now builds

In trees and walls, in Cities and in fields.

The outside strong, the inside warm and neat;

A natural Artificer complete.

The clocking hen her chirping chickens leads

With wings & beak defends them from the gleads

My next and last is fruitful pleasant May,

Wherein the earth is clad in rich array,

The Sun now enters loving Gemini,

And heats us with the glances of his eye,

Our thicker raiment makes us lay aside

Lest by his fervor we be torrefied.

All flowers the Sun now with his beams discloses,

Except the double pinks and matchless Roses.

Now swarms the busy, witty, honey-Bee,

Whose praise deserves a page from more than me

The cleanly Housewife’s Dairy's now in the prime,

Her shelves and firkins filled for wintertime.

The meads with Cowslips, Honey-suckles dight,

One hangs his head, the other stands upright:

But both rejoice at the heaven’s clear smiling face,

More at her showers, which water them a space.

For fruits, my Season yields the early Cherry,

The hasty Peas, and wholesome cool Strawberry.

More solid fruits require a longer time,

Each Season hath his fruit, so hath each Clime:

Each man his own peculiar excellence,

But none in all that hath preeminence.

Sweet fragrant Spring, with thy short pittance fly

Let some describe thee better then can I.

Yet above all this privilege is thine,

Thy days still lengthen without least decline:

 

#WingedWordsWindsday: 2023/03/22 -- Twelve Sibyls Plus One

 WINGED WORDS WINDSDAY

Compiled & Edited by Rob Chappell (@RHCLambengolmo)

Vol. 2, No. 21: March 22, 2023

 

Twelve Sibyls Plus One

 

Editor’s Introduction

                The Sibyls were an ancient order of visionary women who served their people as prophets and sages. Sibyls were active in Africa, Asia, and Europe from prehistoric times until the end of Classical antiquity around 500 CE. Their oracles were written down, translated, and interpreted from one generation to the next, and prominent leaders would often consult the Sibylline books before making critical decisions. According to traditional sources, there were twelve lineages of Sibyls, who passed on their knowledge, wisdom, and prophetic mantles from teacher to disciple.

                When Classical antiquity passed away, the memory of the Sibyls lingered among scholars and scribes, and they were held to be the equals of the Hebrew prophets by many eminent authorities in the Abrahamic family of religions. During the 12^th century Renaissance, the ”Sibyl of the Rhine” arose to take up the mantle of the Western visionary tradition in Germany – St. Hildegard of Bingen, a true polymath who brought a message of hope, insight, and numinosity through her voluminous writings and musical compositions.

                In this week’s edition, I will be showcasing the ancient Sibyls and their medieval successor, Hildegard, as we celebrate Women’s History Month.

 

Excerpt from the Preface to the Sibylline Oracles (5^th Century CE)

                Sibyl is a Latin word meaning prophetess, or rather soothsayer; hence the female soothsayers were called by one name. Now Sibyls, according to many writers, have arisen in different times and places, to the number of ten. There was first the Chaldean, or rather the Persian (Sibyl), whose proper name is Sambethe. She was of the family of the most blessed Noah, and is said to have foretold the exploits of Alexander of Macedon; Nicanor, who wrote the life of Alexander, mentions her. The second was the Libyan, of whom Euripides makes mention in the preface of (his play) the Lamia. The third was the Delphian, born at Delphi, and spoken of by Chrysippus in his book on divination. The fourth was the Italian, in Cimmerium in Italy, whose son Evander founded in Rome the shrine of Pan which is called the Lupercal. The fifth was the Erythræan, who predicted the Trojan war, and of whom Apollodorus the Erythræan bears positive testimony. The sixth was the Samian, whose proper name is Phyto, of whom Eratosthenes wrote. The seventh was the Cumaean, called Amalthea, also Herophile, and in some places Taraxandra. But Vergil calls the Cumaean Sibyl Deiphobe, daughter of Glaucus. The eighth was the Hellespontine, born in the village of Marpessus near the small town of Gergithion, which, according to Heraclides of Pontus, was formerly, in the time of Solon and Cyrus, within the boundaries of the Troad. The ninth was the Phrygian, and the tenth the Tiburtine, named Albunæa.

                It is said, moreover, that the Cumæan Sibyl once brought nine books of her oracles to Tarquinius Priscus, who was at that time King of the Romans, and demanded for them three hundred pieces of gold. But having been disdain fully treated, and not even questioned as to what they were, she committed three of them to the fire. Again, in another audience with the king she brought forward the six remaining books, and still demanded the same amount. But not being deemed worthy of attention, again she burned three more. Then a third time bringing the three that were left, and asking the same price, she said that if he would not procure them, she would burn these also. Then, it is said, the king examined them and was astonished, and gave for them a hundred pieces of gold, took them in charge and made request for the others. But she declared that neither had she the like of those that were burned nor had she any such knowledge apart from inspiration, but that certain persons from various cities and countries had at times excerpted what was esteemed by them necessary and useful, and that out of these excerpts a collection ought to be made. And this (the Romans) did as quickly as possible. For that which was given from God, though truly laid up in a corner, did not escape their search. And the books of all the Sibyls were deposited in the Capitol of ancient Rome. Those of the Cumæan Sibyl, however, were hidden and not made known to many, because she proclaimed more especially and distinctly things that were to happen in Italy, while the others became known to all. But those that were written by the Erythræan Sibyl have the name that was given her from the place; while the other books are without inscription to mark who is the author of each, but are without distinction (of authorship).

 

“Sibyl”

By John Howard Payne (1791-1852)

This is the glamor of the world antique:

The thyme-scents of Hymettus fill the air,

And in the grass narcissus-cups are fair.

The full brook wanders through the ferns to seek

The amber haunts of bees; and on the peak

Of the soft hill, against the gold-marged sky,

She stands, a dream from out the days gone by.

Entreat her not. Indeed, she will not speak!

Her eyes are full of dreams; and in her ears

There is the rustle of immortal wings;

And ever and anon the slow breeze bears

The mystic murmur of the songs she sings.

Entreat her not: she sees thee not, nor hears

Aught but the sights and sounds of bygone springs.

 

Hildegard of Bingen (left) dictates to her scribe, Volmar (right), while her head is engulfed in the flames of visionary insight. Hildegard was a natural philosopher, pharmacologist, musician, and artist who disseminated her teachings about viriditas through her extensive Latin writings, which included scientific and medical treatises. (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

 

St. Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179): Visionary Scientist of the High Middle Ages

Adapted & Condensed from a Presentation by the Editor on 11/29/2015

                On October 7, 2012, Pope Benedict XVI formally canonized and declared Hildegard of Bingen a “Doctor of the Universal Church” -- that is, a preeminent teacher of the Christian tradition whose exemplary life, ministry, and writings continue to inspire people today, over 900 years after her birth. This is an honor that is long overdue and richly deserved. Hildegard, through her music and books and artwork, can inspire us to rejoice in and be good stewards of all creation, encourage young women to pursue careers in theological, scientific, and medical fields of study, and remind all of us to work for justice and peace, especially for those who dwell on the margins of our society.

                Hildegard was the tenth child of a noble family who was “tithed” to the Church at the age of eight. Already gifted with a keen mind, a kind heart, and a visionary imagination, she was taught by Jutta (her distant cousin), a learned anchoress who had the gift of healing. Jutta gathered around herself a community of Benedictine nuns, and at her death, the mantle of their leadership fell to her brilliant student, Hildegard.

                Hildegard had learned at an early age to keep her visionary experiences to herself, after realizing that most people cannot see into the spiritual world and behold visions of angels and feel the ebbing and flowing of divine “uncreated energies of love” that vivify and sustain the Universe. However, a midlife crisis in her early forties caused her to yield to the well of inspiration bursting forth from her soul, and so she began to write books and create stunning works of art that were based on her experiences with the Living Light (one of her favorite titles for God). Major themes in Hildegard’s musical compositions and voluminous writings included Sophia (the Divine Wisdom), the goodness of the created world, viriditas, and the history of salvation.

                Hildegard was a true polymath, writing books on pharmacology, natural science, cosmology, and medicine. Her theological treatises were firmly grounded in her visionary experiences and were copiously illustrated with amazing representations of the divine pictures that she beheld with the eyes of her heart. She invented a new language (complete with an original alphabet) to communicate with her nuns at the abbey and with her friends who lived far away.

                Hildegard composed music for the nuns of her abbey to sing -- haunting polyphonic hymns that are still performed today (in Latin!). She preached in public and wrote letters to kings, emperors, and popes, denouncing corruption in high places and urging charity toward “heretics” and other disenfranchised members of society.

                One concept that runs like an emerald thread through Hildegard’s writings is viriditas (the medieval Latin word for “greenness”). Some natural philosophers of medieval Europe had postulated that there was some mysterious “greenifying” power at work in Nature that revivified the world each year as the Sun crossed the equator on its way northward at the March Equinox. This “greenifying” power – by whatever names it might be called in various times and climes – inspired reverential awe in peoples of the ancient world, for it was regarded as a divine attribute. Hildegard called this “greenifying” power of Nature viriditas. She reasoned that this power was present in all living things, causing them to grow, flourish, and reproduce like plants in springtime.

                Viriditas was celebrated by Hildegard in this poem from her Symphonia, a collection of innovative polyphonic music (with an English translation by R.H.C.):

 

O nobilissima Viriditas, quae radicas in Sole,

Et quae in candida serenitate luces in rota,

Quam nulla terrena excellentia comprehendis!

Tu circumdata es amplexibus divinorum mysteriorum.

Tu rubes ut Aurora et ardes ut Solis flamma.

 

O very noble Greenness, you are rooted in the Sun,

And you shine in bright serenity in a circle

That no terrestrial excellence comprehends!

You are enclosed by the embrace of divine mysteries.

You blush like the Dawn and burn like a flame of the Sun.

 

In these Latin verses, Hildegard identifies the source of viriditas as something “rooted in the Sun” – that is, in the energy radiating from our parent star that makes life possible on Earth. In modern scientific terms, we would say that solar radiation is the catalyst for photosynthesis in green plants, which form the base of the food chain. Viriditas is therefore a truly divine mystery – one of the divine “uncreated energies of love” that communicates life and light to all creation.

 

This illumination from Hildegard’s book Scivias (Know the Ways) is a “map” of the Universe as she understood it. Notice the “greenness” that encircles the spherical Earth in the center and the viriditas sprouting forth from the stars. (Image Credit: Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons)

 

“Sybil”

By Julia Ward Howe (1819-1910)

 

Your head is wild with books, Sybil,

But your heart is good and kind—

I feel a new contentment near you,

A pleasure of the mind.

 

Glad should I be to sit beside you,

And let long hours glide by,

Reading, through all your sweet narrations,

The language of your eye.

 

Since the maternal saint I worshipped

Did look and love her last,

No woman o’er my wayward spirit

Such gentle spell has cast.

 

Oh! tell me of your varied fortunes,

For you know not, from your face

Looks out strange sadness, lit with rapture,

And melancholy grace.

 

You are a gem, whose native brilliance

Could never wholly reign,

An opal, whose prismatic fire

A white cloud doth restrain.

 

And thus, the mood to which you move me

Is never perfect, quite,

‘Tis pity, wonderment, and pleasure,

Opacity and light.

 

Bear me then in your presence, Sybil,

And leave your hand in mine,

For, though human be my nature,

You’ve made it half divine.

 

Webliography

·         http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Viriditas (Viriditas)

·         http://www.hildegard.org/ (Index Page of Hildegardian Resources on the Internet)

·         https://classicalwisdom.com/mythology/sibyl-cumae/ à The Sibyl of Cumae, Italy