dual personalities

Tag: William Wordsworth

If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven

by chuckofish

first-parade.jpg

If thou indeed derive thy light from Heaven,

Then, to the measure of that heaven-born light,

Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content:—

The stars pre-eminent in magnitude,

And they that from the zenith dart their beams,

(Visible though they be to half the earth,

Though half a sphere be conscious of their brightness)

Are yet of no diviner origin,

No purer essence, than the one that burns,

Like an untended watch-fire on the ridge

Of some dark mountain; or than those which seem

Humbly to hang, like twinkling winter lamps,

Among the branches of the leafless trees.

All are the undying offspring of one Sire:

Then, to the measure of the light vouchsafed,

Shine, Poet! in thy place, and be content.

–William Wordsworth, 1832

The wee babes would probably prefer to shine in place contentedly at home, but their adoring parents are always dragging them hither and yon to experience LIFE. Sunday night they went to see the Christmas lights at the Anheuser-Busch Brewery.

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Little Lottie was, per usual, not impressed. The little bud was more game,

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but, yikes, it was cold out there! I’m sure we did the same thing ourselves back in the day. ‘Tis the season after all…

Personally, I am looking forward to watching the Macy’s Parade from the comfort of my couch.

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Daughter #1 will join us this year. For 5 years she watched the famous parade from various windows on the UWS or on the actual street. Indeed, when she would walk home late Wednesday night after her show aired, she saw the giant balloons gathered on Central Park West.  Life is decidedly less glamorous back in flyover country, but mimosas will be served.

Tonight I shop for the feast. Huzzah.

“I see The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee”*

by chuckofish

wrc-2Today the boy turns 30!

His birthday is all the sweeter because he is a cancer survivor and a papa-to-be. Here’s hoping 2017 will be a fabulous year for the boy.

P.S. I may refer to my son as “the boy,” but he is sure enough a man.

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(But those baby pictures sure are cute.)

*Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood by William Wordsworth (1770-1850)–Read the whole thing here.

Pick a little, talk a little

by chuckofish

Is anyone else as tired as I am of headlines like this?

The (Secretly Filthy) Winter Wardrobe Staples You Need to Wash Right Now

I mean c’mon. It’s the “You Need” and the “Right Now,” you know?

Isn’t there enough stress and pressure on us without getting hit right and left on the internet with orders about stuff like that?

Well, I say you need to sit down right now

George_Willison_-_Nancy_Parsons_in_Turkish_dress_-_Google_Art_Project

George Willison, “Nancy Parsons in Turkish Dress”

and stare out the window.

WInslow Homer

Winslow Homer, “Looking Out the Window”

Eat some candy if you feel like it

James Peale, "Still Life With Fruit"

James Peale, “Still Life With Fruit”

and have a glass of wine.

Johannes Vermeer, "The Glass of Wine"

Johannes Vermeer, “The Glass of Wine”

Then watch some great old tv show without commercials.

NYPD-Blue

But under no circumstances plan

9 DIY Projects That Help You Stay Organized.

And P.S. I don’t care if they are secretly filthy. I am not going to hand wash my leather gloves.

But I might re-read this old poem by W. Wordsworth that daughter #2 emailed me yesterday.

SHE was a Phantom of delight

When first she gleamed upon my sight;

A lovely Apparition, sent

To be a moment’s ornament;

Her eyes as stars of Twilight fair;

Like Twilight’s, too, her dusky hair;

But all things else about her drawn

From May-time and the cheerful Dawn;

A dancing Shape, an Image gay,

To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.

 

I saw her upon nearer view,

A Spirit, yet a Woman too!

Her household motions light and free,

And steps of virgin-liberty;

A countenance in which did meet

Sweet records, promises as sweet;

A Creature not too bright or good

For human nature’s daily food;

For transient sorrows, simple wiles,

Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

 

And now I see with eye serene

The very pulse of the machine;

A Being breathing thoughtful breath,

A Traveller between life and death;

The reason firm, the temperate will,

Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;

A perfect Woman, nobly planned,

To warn, to comfort, and command;

And yet a Spirit still, and bright

With something of angelic light.

I’m just saying.

A sonnet for Wednesday

by chuckofish

As if you didn’t already know, I’ll remind you that on this day in 1802 William Wordsworth composed the sonnet titled “Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802”.

Thomas Rowlandson (1756–1827) and Augustus Charles Pugin (1762–1832) (after) John Bluck (fl. 1791–1819), Joseph Constantine Stadler (fl. 1780–1812), Thomas Sutherland (1785–1838)

Westminster Bridge as it appeared in 1808 by Thomas Rowlandson (1756–1827) and Augustus Charles Pugin (1762–1832)

Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

Now you’ll have something to discuss at the water cooler! Do they still have water coolers?

Joseph Nicholls 1742

Joseph Nicholls 1742

Daniel Turner

Daniel Turner

Henry Pether 1862

Henry Pether 1862

 

A sonnet for Thursday

by chuckofish

Well, two hundred years ago they also felt out of tune and forlorn! And check out this pensive portrait of Wordsworth.

NPG 1857,William Wordsworth,by Benjamin Robert Haydon

“The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.–Great God! I’d rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.”

― William Wordsworth, The Major Works
1802

Rest and be thankful

by chuckofish

restand be thankful

XIII. “REST AND BE THANKFUL!”
AT THE HEAD OF GLENCROE

Doubling and doubling with laborious walk,
Who, that has gained at length the wished-for Height,
This brief this simple wayside Call can slight,
And rests not thankful? Whether cheered by talk
With some loved friend, or by the unseen hawk
Whistling to clouds and sky-born streams that shine,
At the sun’s outbreak, as with light divine,
Ere they descend to nourish root and stalk
Of valley flowers. Nor, while the limbs repose,
Will we forget that, as the fowl can keep
Absolute stillness, poised aloft in air,
And fishes front, unmoved, the torrent’s sweep,–
So may the Soul, through powers that Faith bestows,
Win rest, and ease, and peace, with bliss that Angels share.

–Composed by William Wordsworth during a tour in Scotland and on the English border in the autumn of 1831

“Rest and be thankful” are the words inscribed on a stone near the junction of the A83 and the B828, placed there by soldiers who built the original military road in 1753, now referred to as the Drovers’ road. The original stone fell into ruin and was replaced by a commemorative stone at the same site.

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The section is so named as the climb out of Glen Croe is so long and steep at the end that it was traditional for travellers to rest at the top, and be thankful for having reached the highest point. The current road no longer keeps to the floor of Glen Croe but steadily climbs across the southern slopes of The Cobbler, on the north side of the Glen, to the highest point of the pass. The westward descent to Loch Fyne is through Glen Kinglas, and from here the A815, the main road to Dunoon and the Cowal peninsula, branches off to the south.*

I have not been to this particular corner of Scotland, but I wish I had! Wow. And isn’t it great that they erected a stone inviting people to “rest and be thankful”?

Anyway, I thought this fit in nicely with my effort to be thankful this month–don’t you agree?

*Information and photos via Wikipedia