Ode to Autumn John Keats

poet John Keats

Ode to Autumn

Ode to Autumn

Ode To Autumn – Poem by John Keats

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o’er-brimmed their clammy cell.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir, the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.

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Dietary Advice from Hilaire Belloc

The Poetry Wall is mended at last. This advice is for those of us always on a diet.

Henry King who Chewed Bits of String, and Was Early Cut off in Dreadful Agonies.


The chief defect of Henry King

Was chewing little bits of string.

At last he swallowed some which tied

Itself in ugly Knots inside.                               P1000528P1000529

Physicians of the Utmost fame

Were called at once, but when they came

They answered, as they took their fees,

‘There is no Cure for this Disease.

Henry will very soon be dead.’

His Parents stood about his Bed

Lamenting his Untimely Death,

When Henry, with his Latest Breath,

Cried-‘Oh, my Friends, be warned by me,

That Breakfast, Dinner, Lunch and Tea

Are all the Human Frame requires…..’

With that, the Wretched Child  expires.

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To Thine Ownself be True Shakespeare 23rd April 2016

P1000524 Advice to a young man     Hamlet Act1 Scene 3      Polonius to Laertes

Give thy thoughts no tongue,

Nor any unproportioned thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d, unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,
Bear’t that the opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,
But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;

For the apparel oft proclaims the man.



Neither a borrower nor a lender be,

For loan oft loses both itself and friend,

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.
This above all: to thine ownself be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.


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A Love Song

“The Way You Look Tonight”

Some day, when I’m awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight

Yes, you’re lovely, with your smile so warm
And your cheeks so soft
There is nothing for me but to love you
And the way you look tonight

With each word your tenderness grows
Tearin’ my fear apart
And that laugh..wrinkles your nose
Touches my foolish heart

Lovely … Never, never change
Keep that breathless charm
Won’t you please arrange it? ‘Cause I love you
Just the way you look tonight

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Japanese Jokes The Haiku is a traditional Japanese form of seventeen syllables.

P1000485P1000485P1000483Japanese Jokes                   for Anthony Thwaite       Peter Porter


In his winged collar

he  flew. The nation wanted

peace. Our Perseus!


William Blake, William

Blake, William Blake, William Blake,

say it and feel new!


Love without sex is

still the most efficient  form

of hell known to man.


A professional

is one who believes he has

invented breathing.


The creation had

to find room for the exper-

imental novel.


When daffodils be-

gin to peer: watch out, para-

noia’s round the bend.


I  get out of bed

and say goodbye to people

I won’t meet again.


I sit and worry

about money who very

soon will have to die.


I consider it

my duty to be old hat

so you can hate me.


I am getting fat

And unattractive but so

Much nicer to know.


Somewhere at the heart

Of the universe sounds the

True mystic note: Me.


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Born 150 years ago. W B Yeats. The Lake Isle of Innisfree.


The Lake Isle of Innisfree

P1000480Lochleven-CastleI WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

The nearest loch with an isle – Loch Leven (pictured)?  Innisfree is one of twenty on Loch Gill near Sligo.

See also  February 2014. Aedh Wishes For The Cloths of Heaven

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Loveliest of Trees, The Cherry Now

Loveliest of Trees, The Cherry Now     A E Houseman

Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

The cherry trees are blossoming all along the lanes. The wild cherry is called a Gean Tree in Scotland.


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St Kevin and the Blackbird

St Kevin and the Blackbird

And then there was St Kevin and the blackbird.
The saint is kneeling, arms stretched out, inside
His cell, but the cell is narrow, so

One turned-up palm is out the window, stiff
As a crossbeam, when a blackbird lands
And lays in it and settles down to nest.

Kevin feels the warm eggs, the small breast, the tucked
Neat head and claws and, finding himself linked
Into the network of eternal life,

Is moved to pity: now he must hold his hand
Like a branch out in the sun and rain for weeks
Until the young are hatched and fledged and flown.


And since the whole thing’s imagined anyhow,
Imagine being Kevin. Which is he?
Self-forgetful or in agony all the time

From the neck on out down through his hurting forearms?
Are his fingers sleeping? Does he still feel his knees?
Or has the shut-eyed blank of underearth

Crept up through him? Is there distance in his head?
Alone and mirrored clear in love’s deep river,
‘To labour and not to seek reward,’ he prays,

A prayer his body makes entirely
For he has forgotten self, forgotten bird
And on the riverbank forgotten the river’s name.


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St Andrews Day Scottish Names


First day without rain for ages so the wall is out. You need to practise the ‘ch’ sound here.


SCOTTISH NAMES      Raymomd Vettese

I love the names o Scotland;

Ecclefechan, Auchenblae,

Fordoun, Gourdon, Forfar, Kirkcudbright,P1000388

Dunnichen, Echt, Panadram, Drumtochty,

And wha could ignore Auchtermuchty?


I love the names o Scotland:

Hoo they dirl thro me, the stounds

O consonants, nieves o soonds

That dunt on the map; ilka ane redoondsP1000387

Wi stickit pride:these are my boonds!


I love the names o Scotland:

Friockheim, Fettes, Pittenweem, Pitcaithly,

Dunnottar, Dunfermline, Aberdower, Invertay,

Catterline, Corstorphine, Craigmillar, Cruden Bay,

And wha could ignore Clachnaharry?


I love the names o Scotland:

hoo e’en the prosaic is owerset

intil a ferlie ye canna forget,

tho it’s aiblins but a place whaur burns aince met

or a wee wuid fort wis, and is yet,


but only in the name. Oor past’s

chairted for us, oor history’s here,

in Balmaha, Birnam, Dunblane, Ardersier;

the names clash oot, tirl on the ear,

and wha could ignore  braw Durisideer?


I love the names o Scotland,

The names that are oors, and tho Wounded Knee

Is fine and fair and sad, it’s no Fyvie,

And gin Montrose, whaun I dee, winna hae me:

Bury my hairt in the cricket-pitch o Freuchie!

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National Poetry Day Time Travellers (Scotland)


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