Introduction and Welcome

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Thursday, May 26, 2016

Fitz Henry Lane - Norman's Woe Glouster Harbor, Henry Purcell -Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary , Rose Fyleman - 10 Little Tadpoles, John Keats - Teignmouth

I love the wonderful peach color in this painting by Fitz Henry Lane and the circular ripples, the light in the sky behind the hill and the cute little island. The rock in the foreground almost looks like a treasure chest. If you want close up details the picture check here and click on the "enlarge" beneath the picture.  There is also an interesting article here discussing this painting as well as his preliminary drawing and another painting of the same scene.

Norman's Woe Gloucester Harbor - Fitz Henry Lane

Henry Purcell - Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary, sad and reflective, but lovely singing!

Our Rose Fyleman poem this week is a darling little poem about tadpoles - Ten Little Tadpoles.  If you want to hear it performed to music Click Here

Our John Keats poem this week feels like he's playing with words even if you weren't picturing the lovely scenes, the words themselves are wonderful but added to the beauty of what he is describing it makes a marvelous poem!  If you want to know more about the River Teign check this Wikipedia Article.


Here all the summer could I stay,
For there's Bishop's teign
And King's teign
And Coomb at the clear Teign head--
Where close by the stream
You may have your cream
All spread upon barley bread.

There's Arch Brook
And there's Larch Brook
Both turning many a mill,
And cooling the drouth
Of the salmon's mouth
And fattening his silver gill.

There is Wild wood,
A Mild hood
To the sheep on the lea o' the down,
Where the golden furze,
With its green, thin spurs,
Doth catch at the maiden's gown

There is Newton Marsh
With its spear grass harsh--
A pleasant summer level
Where the maidens sweet
Of the Market Street
Do meet in the dusk to revel.

There's the Barton rich
With dyke and ditch
And hedge for the thrush to live in,
And the hollow tree
For the buzzing bee
And a bank for the wasp to hive in.

And O, and O
The daisies blow
And the primroses are waken'd,
And violets white
Sit in silver plight,
And the green bud's as long as the spike end.

Then who would go
Into dark Soho,
And chatter with dack'd-hair'd critics,
When he can stay
For the new-mown hay,
And startle the dappled Prickets*?
* Pricket -  A male deer in its second year, before the antlers branch

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