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Fiery Jack - Ye Jacobites
YE JACOBITES BY NAME (rewritten by Robbie Burns)
Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear, lend an ear;
Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear;
Ye Jacobites by name,
Your fautes I will proclaim,
Your doctrines I maun blame, you shall hear.
What is Right and what is Wrang, by the law, by the law?
What is Right and what is Wrang, by the law?
What is Right and what is Wrang?
A weak hand and a strang,
A short sword and the lang,for to draw.
What makes heroic strife, famed afar, famed afar?
What makes heroic strife, famed afar?
What makes heroic strife?
To whet th' assassin's knife
Or hunt a Parent's life, wi' bludie war?
Then let your schemes alone, in the state, in the state;
Then let your schemes alone, in the state;
Then let your schemes alone,
Adore the rising sun,
And leave a man undone, to his fate.
http://www.abc.net.au/news/stories/2007/10/05/2051401.htm Australian diggers honourably laid to rest
Posted Fri Oct 5, 2007 6:28am AEST
Five Australian World War I soldiers have been re-buried with full military honours in a Commonwealth war cemetery in Belgium. The men's remains were discovered in September last year during digging for a new gas pipeline.
DNA testing and historical research recently confirmed two identities as Private Jack Hunter from Queensland and Sergeant George Calder from Victoria.
It is believed they were killed in the battle of Polygon Wood, 90 years ago last month, which was part of the treacherous three-month long Passchendaele campaign.
In a moving service at the Buttes New British cemetery in Zonnebeke, West Flanders, the five caskets were interred with full military honours.
Australia's Governor-General, Major General Michael Jeffery, praised the diggers, saying they had been fighting to preserve a way of life based on the Australian adage of a fair-go for all.
He says the forensic work done to identify two of the five men needs to be commended.
"Some remarkable historical detective work in Belgium and Australia have helped end 90 years of uncertainty for two Australian families," he said.
"Sergeant George Calder and Private John Hunter can now be laid to rest under their own names."
Apparently he copied Frederico García Lorca
(here are the two poems side by side ..)
http://www.webheights.net/speakingcohen/waltz.htm
Take This Waltz
(After Lorca)
Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women.
There's a shoulder where death comes to cry.
There's a lobby with nine hundred windows.
There's a tree where the doves go to die.
There's a piece that was torn from the morning,
and it hangs in the Gallery of Frost --
Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws.
etc
Apparently he copied Frederico García Lorca , viz:-
Little Viennese Waltz
In Vienna there are ten little girls
a shoulder for death to cry on
and a forest of dried pigeons.
There is a fragment of tomorrow
in the museum of winter frost.
There is a thousand-windowed dance hall.
Ay, ay, ay, ay!
Take this close-mouthed waltz.
etc
Cohen has described Lorca as being his idol in his youth, and named his daughter Lorca Cohen for that reason
Federico GarcÃa Lorca (June 5, 1898 – August 19, 1936) was a Spanish poet and dramatist, also remembered as a painter, pianist, and composer. An emblematic member of the Generation of '27, he was killed by Nationalist partisans at the age of 38 at the beginning of the Spanish Civil War.
.....Although not shown for the first time until the early 1930s, in 1926 Lorca wrote the play 'The Shoemaker's Prodigious Wife', which was a farce based on the relationship between a flirtatious, petulant wife and a henpecked shoemaker.
......In 1931, GarcÃa Lorca was appointed as director of a university student theatre company,
When war broke out in 1936, GarcÃa Lorca left Madrid for Granada, even though he was aware that he was almost certainly heading toward his death in a city reputed to have the most conservative oligarchy in AndalucÃa. GarcÃa Lorca and his brother-in-law, who was also the socialist mayor of Granada, were soon arrested. He was executed, shot by Falange militia on August 19, 1936. The executioner is reputed to have said "I fired two bullets into his **** for being a queer." Lorca was thrown into an unmarked grave somewhere between VÃznar and Alfacar, near Granada. There is a large controversy about the motives (personal non-political motives are also suggested) and details of his death. The dossier compiled at Franco's request has yet to surface.
The olive tree near Alfacar where Lorca was shot as it was in 1999. Many people had left quotations from his works in its branches. Location: 37ο14' N. 3о33' W [3]
The Franco regime placed a general ban on his work, which was not rescinded until 1953 when a (heavily censored) Obras completas was released. That Obras did not include his late Sonnets of Dark Love, written in November 1935 and performed only for close friends ”” these were lost until 1983/4 when they were finally published. It was only after Franco's death in 1975 that GarcÃa Lorca's life and death could be openly discussed in Spain.
In 1968, Joan Baez sang translated renditions of Lorca's poems, "Gacela Of The Dark Death" and "Casida of the Lament" on her spoken-word poetry album, Baptism.
In 1986, Leonard Cohen's English translation of the poem "Pequeño vals vienés" by GarcÃa Lorca reached #1 in the Spanish single charts (as "Take This Waltz", music by Cohen). Cohen has described Lorca as being his idol in his youth, and named his daughter Lorca Cohen for that reason.
Charles Kingsley (1819-1875) was born in Devon in the west of England and was the son of a vicar. He studied at University college London, before finishing his studies at Magdalene College, Cambridge. .... married .........argued that religion and politics were intertwined ..... ..writing The Water Babies in 1862 (from which this poem is taken);.....
The joys of youth and the grim prospect of old age are something we all must bare, but lets hope we have enough joyful memories so that in our old age we can look back and enjoy the happiness of once being young.
Young and Old
When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen;
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.
When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down;
Creep home, and take you place there,
The spent and maimed among:
God grant you find one face there,
You loved when all was young.
As thou these ashes, little brook, wilt bear
Into the Avon, Avon to the tide
Of Severn, Severn to the narrow seas,
Into main ocean they, this deed accursed
An emblem yields to friends and enemies
How the bold teacher’s doctrine, sanctified
By truth, shall spread, throughout the world dispersed. 1
Ecclesiastical Sonnets. Part ii. xvii.To Wickliffe.
Note 1.
In obedience to the order of the Council of Constance (1415), the remains of Wickliffe were exhumed and burned to ashes, and these cast into the Swift, a neighbouring brook running hard by; and “thus this brook hath conveyed his ashes into Avon, Avon into Severn, Severn into the narrow seas, they into the main ocean. And thus the ashes of Wickliffe are the emblem of his doctrine, which now is dispersed all the world over.”—Thomas Fuller: Church History, sect. ii. book iv. paragraph 53.
What Heraclitus would not laugh, or what Democritus would not weep?… For though they digged up his body, burned his bones, and drowned his ashes, yet the word of God and truth of his doctrine, with the fruit and success thereof, they could not burn.—Fox: Book of Martyrs, vol. i. p. 606 (edition, 1611).
“Some prophet of that day said,—
“‘The Avon to the Severn runs,
The Severn to the sea;
And Wickliffe’s dust shall spread abroad
Wide as the waters be.’”
Daniel Webster: Address before the Sons of New Hampshire, 1849.
These lines are similarly quoted by the Rev. John Cumming in the “Voices of the Dead.” [back]
William Tyndale (sometimes spelled Tindall or Tyndall) (ca. 1494–1536) was a 16th century Protestant reformer and scholar who translated the Bible into the Early Modern English of his day. Although a number of partial and complete Old English translations had been made from the 7th century onward, Tyndale's was the first to take advantage of the new medium of print, which allowed for its wide distribution. In 1535 Tyndale was arrested, jailed in the castle of Vilvoorde outside Brussels, Belgium for more than a year, tried for heresy and treason and then strangled and burnt at the stake in the castle's courtyard
Following the publication of the New Testament, Cardinal Wolsey condemned Tyndale as a heretic and demanded his arrest[citation needed].
Tyndale went into hiding, possibly for a time in Hamburg, and carried on working. He revised his New Testament and began translating the Old Testament and writing various treatises. In 1530 he wrote The Practyse of Prelates, which seemed to move him briefly to the Catholic side through its opposition to Henry VIII's divorce. This resulted in the king's wrath being directed at him: he asked the emperor Charles V to have Tyndale seized and returned to England[citation needed].
Eventually, he was betrayed to the authorities. He was kidnapped in Antwerp in 1535, betrayed by Henry Phillips, and held in the castle of Vilvoorde near Brussels.
He was tried on a charge of heresy in 1536 and condemned to the stake, despite Thomas Cromwell's intercession on his behalf. Tyndale was strangled and his body burned at the stake on 6 September 1536[4] or 6 October 1536.[5] His final words reportedly were, "Oh Lord, open the King of England's eyes."
Double Trouble
A poem for English students
by Mark Chandler
Please spare me a thought
For the cause of my frowns
My teacher's just taught
Me the plurals of nouns
So let's start with a fox
Well, the plural is foxes
But change it to ox
We have oxen, not "oxes"
He becomes they:
Man becomes men
So I think I can say
Humans are "humen"!
Explain to me please:
On my plate are pink prawns
The green things are peas
Make the yellow ones "corns"!
So foot becomes feet?
There's no logic at all ...
Because boots are not "beet"
... And you say 'six foot tall'
A pair of trousers - OK?
But I see only one.
Can you please say
Where the other has gone?
Notes
- A "frown" is an expression on your face which shows that you are annoyed or worried
- In the UK we may have "peas and corn" as vegetables with a meal (corn means loose sweetcorn, or maize)
- A "foot" can be either a part of the body or a measurement (about 30 cm).
- People in Britain often say their heights using feet and inches, but always say "foot" not "feet"
Sounds and Letters
A poem for English students
When in English class we speak,
Why is break nor rhymed with freak?
Will you tell me why it's true
That we say sew, but also few?
When a poet writes a verse
Why is horse not rhymed with worse?
Beard sounds not the same as heard
Lord sounds not the same as word
Cow is cow, but low is low
Shoe is never rhymed with toe.
Think of nose and dose and lose
Think of goose, but then of choose.
Confuse not comb with tomb or bomb,
Doll with roll, or home with some.
We have blood and food and good.
Mould is not pronounced like could.
There's pay and say, but paid and said.
"I will read", but "I have read".
Why say done, but gone and lone -
Is there any reason known?
To summarise, it seems to me
Sounds and letters disagree.
A flea and a fly flew up in a flue.
Said the flea, "Let us fly!"
Said the fly, "Let us flee!"
So they flew through a flaw in the flue.
-------------------------------------
Which wristwatches are Swiss wristwatches?
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A noisy noise annoys an oyster
-------------------------------------
Ned Nott was shot and Sam Shott was not.
So it is better to be Shott than Nott.
Some say Nott was not shot.
But Shott says he shot Nott.
Either the shot Shott shot at Nott was not shot, or Nott was shot.
If the shot Shott shot shot Nott, Nott was shot.
But if the shot Shott shot shot Shott, then Shott was shot, not Nott.
However, the shot Shott shot shot not Shott - but Nott.
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Thieves seize skis.
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A bloke's back bike brake-block broke.
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Once upon a barren moor
There dwelt a bear, also a boar.
The bear could not bear the boar.
The boar thought the bear a bore.
At last the bear could bear no more
Of that boar that bored him on the moor,
And so one morn he bored the boar -
That boar will bore the bear no more.
------------------------------------------
Betty Botter had some butter,
"But", she said, "this butter's bitter.
If I bake this bitter butter
it would make my batter bitter.
But a bit of better butter -
that would make my batter better".
So she bought a bit of butter
(better than her bitter butter),
and she baked it in her batter,
and the batter was not bitter.
So 'twas better Betty Botter
bought a bit of better butter.
--------------------------------------
She sells sea shells by the seashore.
The shells she sells are surely seashells.
So if she sells shells on the seashore,
I'm sure she sells seashore shells.
It Couldn't Be Done
By Edgar Guest
Somebody said it couldn't be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That "maybe it couldn't," but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing and he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.
Somebody scoffed: "Oh, you'll never do that;
At least no one has ever done it";
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
And the first thing we knew he'd begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing and he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.
There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
That "cannot be done," and you'll do it.
It Couldn't Be Done II
by anon
Somebody said it couldn't be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That "maybe it couldn't," but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
He took off his coat and went to it!
He tackled that thing that couldn't be done
and....he couldn't do it.
Father
By Edgar Albert Guest
My father knows the proper way
The nation should be run;
He tells us children every day
Just what should now be done.
He knows the way to fix the trusts,
He has a simple plan;
But if the furnace needs repairs,
We have to hire a man.
My father, in a day or two
Could land big thieves in jail;
There’s nothing that he cannot do,
He knows no word like “fail.”
“Our confidence” he would restore,
Of that there is no doubt;
But if there is a chair to mend,
We have to send it out.
All public questions that arise,
He settles on the spot;
He waits not till the tumult dies,
But grabs it while it’s hot.
In matters of finance he can
Tell Congress what to do;
But, O, he finds it hard to meet
His bills as they fall due.
It almost makes him sick to read
The things law-makers say;
Why, father’s just the man they need,
He never goes astray.
All wars he’d very quickly end,
As fast as I can write it;
But when a neighbor starts a fuss,
’Tis mother has to fight it.
In conversation father can
Do many wondrous things;
He’s built upon a wiser plan
Than presidents or kings.
He knows the ins and outs of each
And every deep transaction;
We look to him for theories,
But look to ma for action.
Thieves seize skis.
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A bloke's back bike brake-block broke.
background reading , in the unlikely event that anyone's interested
https://www.aussiestockforums.com/forums/showthread.php?p=211800&highlight=pell#post211800
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