On RS
As the bold sunset fadeth in the west
Which by and by black night doth take away
So the hotline’s calls, which thee enthrall
Do fall away as Phoenix in his grey
Only once more to rise under thy careful eyes
To be resolved, to deliquesce and as it were
to yump away.
Once upon a time there was little bear, Edward, Peter and Rew deLait – Edward, because all bears are called Teddy, Peter because when he had been named the minister had become very annoyed with someone making a lot of noise, as result of which he had not been careful about what he said, and Rew because it was his real name; deLait we understand was his family name, which was French, but his English friends simply could not say deLait properly which was a source of continual frustration for him – who lived in a deep dark wood, which he knew was a deep dark wood, because whenever he ventured outside he always saw Only Darkness….
You, dear reader, may care to read part two here.
A word of farewell:
How much is too much?
Continue readingWhen something should be said:
Continue readingIt is with no little trepidation that I stand here, as I know I am among friends who knew David for longer and in a far more intimate way than I ever did. It was my privilege to meet him on only a few occasions but you had many dealings with him and I am sure you can, and would want to, tell me a thing or two about him.
Continue readingEs lebte einmal eine Biene in Hagen,
die antworten konnte auf jegliche Fragen.
Die wohl Schwierigste bei einem Quiz – ganz klar -war: Was war war bevor war war war?
Sie wusste auch dies und gewann ohne List:
Bevor war war war war war bin oder ist!
From the original Dutch:
Er was een bij te ‘s Gravenhage
Die antwoord wist op alle vragen.
Toen men hem, moeielijk genoeg
Wat was was eer was was was vroeg
Werd hij de winnaar van de quiz
Met ‘Eer was was was was was is.’
Rob den Heijer
The Grand Old Duke of York
Traditional
O, the Grand old Duke of York
He had ten thousand men
He marched them up to the top of the hill
And he marched them down again.
And when they were up, they were up
And when they were down, they were down
And when they were only halfway up
They were neither up nor down.
No more tears – Sylvia Armanious © 2004
No more tears for me to cry.
No more days where I have to lie.
No more sadness to darken my day.
No more rain to fog my way*.
No more pain in my life.
No more fear of death by man’s** knife
No more tears for me to cry.
No more tears,
No more tears for me.
Altered: *daydreams **getting killed with life’s
ChoralWiki and Noteworthy Scriptorium
Sylvia Armanious was an Egyptian Coptic Christian whose family fled persecution to New Jersey. The poem above written in 2004 reveals Sylvia’s thoughts as she reflects upon the changes that this brought about in her life. In January 2005 she and her family (Monica, 9, herself, 15, Hossam, 47, and Amal, 37) were found having been stabbed to death in their new home. Dear reader, you may read more here (Christianity Today), here (New York Post) and here (New York Times). Whilst the motive for their murder may have been misunderstood the report from the Coptic Church, speaks well of the family and of Sylvia.
The copyright of the music is held by Stuart Moffatt (© 2004).
The midi file was produced using Noteworthy Composer.
The mp3/ogg were produced using Myriad software.