The following two paintings by Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot have the
same setting - both with the wonderful serene lake in the
background and fascinating tree shapes. I think these two paintings
will be fun to compare - what is alike and what is different. I was
drawn to the soft colors and peace of the first painting but I like the
mother and children in the second and the warm colors. This setting
would be a fun one to try copying in watercolor. The following is a
link to a wikipedia article about these paintings: Wikipedia - Souvenir de Montefontaine
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| The Boatman of Montefontaine |
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| Souvenir de Mortefontaine (Recollection of Mortefontaine) |
Another of John Philip Sousa's wonderful marches - King Cotton March.
A longer biographical article on John Milton from the Poetry Foundation can be found here. (I didn't read this article in it's entirety myself, so don't assign it to your children without first checking it).
I've been reading John Milton: A Hero of Our Time. It's challenging reading and I'm learning a lot but I'm wondering if a lot of the author's own beliefs color his thoughts and conclusions about Milton. I need to read more of Milton's own writings myself. Though I don't agree with all of Hawke's conclusions I admire John Milton for what I see of him "between the lines" and in the quotes in this book. He loved reading and studying languages and classics and began writing poetry at a young age. One thing that struck me is that he saw his own life as a chance to live out his message and though he was outspoken politically he lived authentically and was true to his own beliefs - he was a man of integrity.
How Soon Hath Time
How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on wtih full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arrived so near,
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure even
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven;
All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye.
Our poem today by Robert Louis Stevenson
From Child's Garden of Verses
Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on wtih full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arrived so near,
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits endu'th.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,
It shall be still in strictest measure even
To that same lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven;
All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye.
Our poem today by Robert Louis Stevenson
From Child's Garden of Verses
Foreign Lands
Up into the cherry tree
Who should climb but little me?
I held the trunk with both my hands
And looked abroad in foreign lands.
I saw the next door garden lie,
Adorned with flowers, before my eye,
And many pleasant places more
That I had never seen before.
I saw the dimpling river pass
And be the sky's blue looking-glass;
The dusty roads go up and down
With people tramping in to town.
If I could find a higher tree
Farther and farther I should see,
To where the grown-up river slips
Into the sea among the ships,
To where the road on either hand
Lead onward into fairy land,
Where all the children dine at five,
And all the playthings come alive.
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