General Chat

Christine, unless I am mistaken that was written by W B Yeats Hi Margaret I am gald I found the right one Not sure about the other one, but did find this by Tennyson and quite liked it so thought I would add it any way The Brook I come from haunts of coot and hern, I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorpes, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. I chatter over stony ways, In little sharps and trebles, I bubble into eddying bays, I babble on the pebbles. With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling, And here and there a foamy flake Upon me, as I travel With many a silvery waterbreak Above the golden gravel, And draw them all along, and flow To join the brimming river For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. I steal by lawns and grassy plots, I slide by hazel covers; I move the sweet forget-me-nots That grow for happy lovers. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows; I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars In brambly wildernesses; I linger by my shingly bars; I loiter round my cresses; And out again I curve and flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.

Quite by chance today, whilst clearing out a cupboard, I came across a book that my Dad bought for my Mum whilst they were on honeymoon in Bournemouth in February 1945 - The Complete Poems of Rupert Brooke. Mum loved all poetry, but especially Rupert Brooke's poems. The Soldier If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by rivers, blest by suns of home. And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness, In hearts at peace, under an English heaven. Rupert Brooke (1887 - 1915) and of course the probably more well known 'Grantchester' which ends........... 'Say, is there Beauty yet to find? And Certainty? and Quiet kind? Deep meadows yet, for to forget The lies, and truths, and pain?...oh! yet Stands the church clock at ten to three? And is there honey still for tea?' Sue xx

W. H. Davies Leisure WHAT is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare?— No time to stand beneath the boughs, And stare as long as sheep and cows: No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass: No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars, like skies at night: No time to turn at Beauty's glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance: No time to wait till her mouth can Enrich that smile her eyes began? A poor life this if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. Something to reflect on Mau x

Oh how I wish my memory was better. I remember loads of the poems mentioned & quite forgot to put Emmerdale on, I was so engrossed reading them aloud to myself. I remember Wraggle Taggle Gypsies as a song. My mother could remember just about all the poems she learnt at school till the day she died at 84. Her favourites were, The Wreck of the Hesperous, The Highwayman, Hiawartha[sp] & the one she always quoted at me, There was a little girl who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good, she was very, very good but when she was bad, she was horrid. One day when her mother,! Oh heck I thought I had remembered it. Something about standing on her head on her little truckle bed. I give up, but thanks for the memories Dee Vivienne

Vivienne, just for you ;-)) There Was A Little Girl There was a little girl, and she had a little curl Right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good she was very, very good, But when she was bad she was horrid. One day she went upstairs, while her parents, unawares, In the kitchen were occupied with meals. And she stood upon her head, on her little truckle-bed, And then began hurraying with her heels. Her mother heard the noise and thought it was the boys, A-kicking up a rumpus in the attic. But when she climbed the stair, and saw Jemima there, She took her and did whip her most emphatic.

btw - thanks Sue and Mau for your poems seems we are all getting rather nostalgic, it's nice to look back sometimes isn't it? Dee ;-))

Dee My tongue was slightly in my cheek. (I may bite it one day). I also used to know 'La Belle Dame Sans Merci' off by heart. Rachel Carson wrote 'The Silent Spring' which was about pesticides killing off the birds. Most of the poems here are familiar to me. Maybe, in my dotage, I don't dislike poetry as much as I thought I did. len

Len I have learnt something from this thread. Had not come across Rachel Carson, but now I have looked her up I can see where you are coming from with your comment ;-)) btw There appears to be two versions of La Belle Dame Sans Merci The original of 1819 is the one Joy has quoted When it was published in 1820 there were a few alterations The first verse reads: Published version of La Belle Dame Sans Merci, 1820 Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight, Alone and palely loitering; The sedge is wither'd from the lake, And no birds sing. and later in the poem She took me to her elfin grot, And there she gaz'd and sighed deep, And there I shut her wild sad eyes-- So kiss'd to sleep. Very subtle differences, and it appears nobody knows who made the alterations Dee