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S7 E2: Celebrating Robert Burns with Address to A Haggis In January, Tea Toast & Trivia celebrates the great Scottish poet and lyricist, Robert Burns. Widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland and celebrated worldwide, Burns is best known for his poetry written in the Scots language, with works such as “Auld Lang Syne,” “Address to a Haggis,” and “Tam O' Shanter.” His poetry reflects themes of love, nature, and Scotland's cultural heritage. Haggis holds a special place in Scotland's culinary and cultural heritage, embodying the spirit of an indomitable nation. This traditional dish, made primarily from sheep's offal mixed with oats and spices, reflects the resourcefulness and frugality that characterized Scottish life, particularly in rural areas. The deep connection between haggis and Scotland's identity is further solidified by its association with Robert Burns and his poem, “Address to a Haggis”. He praises the haggis as the “great chieftain o' the puddin' race,” suggesting that it is a dish worthy of honour and respect—much like the Scottish people themselves. Haggis has become synonymous with the festivities of Burns Suppers held worldwide each year on January 25th, where friends and families gather to commemorate Burns' life and works. The act of addressing and serving haggis during these events is steeped in tradition and serves as a joyous reminder of Scotland's vibrant culture. It encourages the sharing of stories, music, and camaraderie. Come join me to celebrate Robert Burns with his iconic “Address to a Haggis”! The vivid imagery and spirited language invite us to join in the festivities of a Burns Supper and pay tribute to the enduring legacy of Scotland's beloved national poet. Address to a Haggis Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,Great chieftain o' the puddin'-race!Aboon them a' ye tak your place,Painch, tripe, or thairm:Weel are ye wordy o' a graceAs lang's my arm. The groaning trencher there ye fill,Your hurdies like a distant hill,Your pin wad help to mend a millIn time o' need,While thro' your pores the dews distilLike amber bead. His knife see rustic Labour dight,An' cut you up wi' ready slight,Trenching your gushing entrails bright,Like onie ditch;And then, O what a glorious sight,Warm-reekin', rich! Then, horn for horn, they stretch an' strive:Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyveAre bent like drums;The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,‘Bethankit' hums. Is there that owre his French ragoutOr olio that wad staw a sow,Or fricassee wad make her spewWi' perfect sconner,Looks down wi' sneering, scornfu' viewOn sic a dinner? Poor devil! see him owre his trash,As feckless as a wither'd rash,His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,His nieve a nit;Thro' bloody flood or field to dash,O how unfit! But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,The trembling earth resounds his tread.Clap in his walie nieve a blade,He'll make it whissle;An' legs an' arms, an' heads will sned,Like taps o' thrissle. Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,And dish them out their bill o' fare,Auld Scotland wants nae skinking wareThat jaups in luggies;But, if ye wish her gratefu' prayer,Gie her a Haggis Music by Epidemic Sound Auld Lang Syne (Traditional Version) by Traditional

Playlist for The Everything Show 12/9/2024Bahramji Feat. Mashti / CameldriverLes Amazones d'Afrique / Kuma Fo (What They Say)The Velvet Underground / Run Run RunBryan Ferry / Stone WomanJD McPherson / Nite OwlsLouis Jordan / Santa Claus, Santa ClausTolouse Low Trax / Traction AvantWang Chung / Space JunkParlor Greens / Parlor StrutRobin Trower / Bridge of SighsThe Raconteurs / Now That You're GoneThe Americojones Experience / Me He Portado MalCream / World Of PainLos Tayos / Bright SorrowTraffic / (Roamin' Thro' The Gloamin' With) 40.000 HeadmanMildlife / YourselfHot Chip & Sleaford Mods / Cat BurglarKokomo Arnold / Milk Cow BluesGeorge Strait / Milk Cow BluesU2 / So CruelLava La Rue / HumanityThe Rolling Stones / Living In A Ghost TownPhantom Singer / Six Underground

Clyde Raynard AXIOS Part 2 - September 8th, 2024, 2024 God … who has blessed us Ephesians Chapter 1 Ephesians 4:1 Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord, implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called. Walk…Worthy of (your) calling! It is a Heavenly Calling – Hebrews 3:1 “Therefore holy brethren, partakers of a heavenly calling, consider Jesus, the Apostle and High Priest of our confession…” “Heavenly” in – Origin – Nature, and – Destiny   It is a Holy Calling - 2 Timothy 1:9 “(God) who has saved us and called us with a holy calling…” God is holy / we are called to be holy as well.   It is a High Calling – Philippians 3:14 (KJV) “I press toward the mark for the prize of the High Calling of God in Christ Jesus.”   It is a Hopeful Calling – Ephesians 4:4 “…just as you were called in one hope of your calling;” “Looking for the Blessed Hope and the appearing of the glory of our great God and Saviour, Christ Jesus…” Titus 3:13 Ephesians' two parts: Our Motivation for a Worthy Walk – Chapters 1-3 The Manner of a Worthy Walk – Chapters 4-6 VV 3-6 - The Father's Plan / The Father's Will / The Father's Selection VV 7-12 – The Son's Provision / The Son's Work / The Son's Sacrifice VV 13-14 – The Spirit's Pledge / The Spirit's Witness / The Spirit's Sealing The Father's Plan 1:3-6 – To Save US! Verse 3 Blessed be…God! The Praiseworthy God Revelation 4:13-14 1 John 4:8b-10 Blessed be … God! He is The Praiseworthy God! Blessed be… the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ… The Personal God How can “God (Jesus)” have a God? “The hypostatic union of Christ” Hypostatic -  (to stand under) – refers to the substance or essential nature of an individual As God , the Lord Jesus Christ has the first Person of the Trinity as His Father. As man, the Lord Jesus Christ has the first Person of the Trinity as His God. John 5:17-18 Matthew 27:46 John 20:17 God the Father, is our God and our Father as well! Galatians 3:26 3) The Prodigal God Eulogeo (verb form) Can mean: To cause to prosper, to make happy, to bestow blessing on Blessing Spiritual Blessing Every Spiritual Blessing Every Spiritual Blessing in the Heavenlies Every Spiritual Blessing in the Heavenlies in Christ …every… The Aggregate of Our Blessings “…spiritual (of the Spirit)…” The Author of our Blessings …in the heavenly (places)… The Abode of Our Blessings …in Christ… The Agent (means) of Our Blessings “The most significant phrase in the epistle (Ephesians) is made up of two words, ‘in Christ'.” “If one is not ‘in Christ' he can know nothing experientially of these ‘spiritual blessings'.” - L. Straus What does it mean to be “in Christ”? 1Corinthians 15:22 Romans 5:19 2Corinthians 5:17 A Mind at Perfect Peace – Catesby Paget - # 32 in Hymns of Worship and Remembrance V2 By nature and by practice far, How very far from God! Yet now by grace bro't nigh to Him, Thro' faith in Jesus' blood. V3 So near, so very near to God, I cannot nearer be; For in the person of His Son I am as near as He. V4 So dear, so very dear to God, More dear I cannot be; The love where with He loves the Son: Such is His love to me! V5 Why should I ever careful (anxious) be, Since such a God is mine? He watches o'er me night and day, And tells me “Mine is thine.” Romans 8:16-17 The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ,… ) How Does One Become “In Christ”. Admit you are a hopeless, helpless, hell-deserving sinner Believe that the Lord Jesus Christ died at Calvary to pay your sin-debt to God, and He rose from the dead - to verify the payment was accepted by God Commit your eternal destiny to the sufficiency of this gift of God's grace alone - trusting only in what Christ has done for you on the cross He is the Praiseworthy God! He is the Personal God! He is the Prodigal (lavishly extravagant) God!

Gary brings you an eclectic mix of  top drawer music drawn from his collection of all things bagpipe.PlaylistThe Iron Horse with The Goatherd, The Major's Maggot, James MacLellan's Favourite, Duncan the Gauger and The Piper's Bonnet from Thro' Water, Earth and Stone St Lawrence O'Toole Pipe Band with Joe Cooley's Hornpipe, Joe Cooley's Jig, The Donegal Lass, Eddie's Lamentation, The Strathspey King, Sergeant Murphy's, Stranded in Scotland, The Ballintore Fancy, the Lismurrane Lamps from The Dawning of the Day. Going to go with James Thomson for now – with Lucy Farr's Barn Dance, Bill Malley's Barn Dance and Hugh's Tune from Borders Young Pipers Craig Sutherland with MacLean of Pennycross, Dora MacLeod and John MacEchnie's Big Reel from The Wheel of Fortune 2024 Donald MacLeod with the Company's Lament (excerpt) from the Classic Collection of Piobaireachd Tutorials Vol 19. Urachadh with MacKay's March, Iain MacEachainn and Am Boc Liath from Urachadh Royal Ulster Constabulary Pipe Band with The Bind, Redford Cottage and Angus MacKinnon from Pipe Bands of Distinction Homebound with Prince of Persia from Adroneline    Support the Show.

This guided meditation is designed to uplift your spirit and foster a sense of inner peace and joy. Throughout the session, Ariadne's soothing voice gently guides you through a series of positive affirmations, each carefully crafted to nurture your mental, emotional, and spiritual wellbeing. As you listen, you'll be enveloped in a serene soundscape that combines soft, ambient music with the tranquil sounds of nature, creating a calming atmosphere that enhances your meditation experience.This session is perfect for those seeking a moment of tranquility in their day, wishing to enhance their practice of mindfulness, or anyone looking to infuse their life with positive energy.  It offers an oasis of calm and an uplifting experience that resonates long after the session ends.Thank you for listening :)Get your velvety soft earbud headband at SleepPhones and help support the channel. SleepPhones gives us a small commission from any purchase you make at no extra cost to you. THANK YOU for your support!Sleep Phones The luxuriously soft headband contains thin, padded removable speakers to play any type of audio.Patreon for Willow Bend Zen Get early access to extended versions that are AD FREE. Spiral Fairy Tales (Children's Books) A children's book series, written and illustrated by Ariadne, for the awakening family. Disclaimer: This post contains affiliate links. If you make a purchase, I may receive a commission at no extra cost to you.Support the show

Having grown up in the military, packing up and moving every few years was part of my life as early as I could remember.     Our move to Illinois, though, the year I started third grade, wasn't like the ones before it.     My mother didn't stand in the rooms with the moving company ensuring that her china was wrapped just so, that the teak table and chairs remained unscratched, that her piano was moved gently.     And our things, she didn't hear my stories about my stuffed animals and dolls, my books -- the explanations for why they most certainly needed to make the trip north.     Instead, without thought or selection, without narrative history, or biography, everything from my drawers, closet, and every surface in my room, was unceremoniously picked up and dumped into boxes, which, when filled up, were sealed closed, headed for burial in a moving truck.    One box left me deeply troubled. The woman from the moving company's fleshy arms hurled more than held my treasures into the cold darkness of a box, and while popping a cigarette in her mouth and casting her eyes about the room for what must have been her lighter, sealed the box and got up with a harrumph.    She didn't seem to like her job, I thought.   And then it hit me. Squee! Oh no! I dashed around the room looking for my favorite stuffed animal, Squee the mouse.     Squee had been my companion from an early age. And since my mother had died a few months before, he had come back into my life as a great comfort.     But he was not on my bed. He was not under it or anywhere to be found. I was in a panic!     Squee was in the box!    I was terrified for him.      You OK honey? The moving lady said when she came back in. But I couldn't speak. And I sat down, with my back to the box, legs curled into the hug of my arms.    After dinner My dad helped me unseal the box and dig through it, until we found him, Squee. A book had been pressing into his snout and left a triangular imprint, so I gave him extra love there.    Many weeks later, after our long drive north in our convertible VW, the moving truck arrived at our new quarters, and we began unpacking.   In one of the boxes marked “girl's room” I unearthed a jar with coins and a note in it . . .  “I owe you” the note said. “On June 1, 1973. I owe Mary Carter Greene $2.35 and will pay one dime every day after June 10 if not paid by then. Signed, Alan Greene.”     Wait a minute! I had hit the jack pot! This was January and my brother never HAD paid this back. His debt was more than 200 days overdue. That buried promise had made me rich!     Joy and Woe are woven fine, William Blake wrote.    “It is right it should be so; Man was made for joy and woe; And when this we rightly know, Thro' the world we safely go.  Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine. Under every grief and pine Runs a joy with silken twine.  I couldn't have been happier, but there was much weeping and gashing of teeth, when I brought the credit slip to my brother.    It wasn't long before our dad had to get involved.    14 ‘For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them;      19 After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them.    Matthew's parable is most often read one of two ways – each as contradictory to the other as the story of my young self – able to love so fiercely I would stop the world for a stuffed animal, and equally able to extort my only brother's last penny, if I thought it were owed me.      Although sometimes read this way, Matthew's story does not point to a Kingdom where some are denied because they fail to participate.     The story draws attention to an unjust system.    The parable would have been heard in its day as a description of the times– when peasants were extorted and their land was taken by those who held the concentrated wealth of powerful families and influence as city officials;     The parable reflects how the early followers of Jesus struggled in difficult times to know how to best wait for his return and how to live in the meantime.    Should they play into the social demands to do the dirty work of the system or live in a radically different way that might realize the Kingdom Jesus described earlier in Matthew?     An act of subversion and resistance, those who heard Matthew's Gospel were then and are now invited to exercise the same.    Unjust social systems, accumulation of wealth by the few, and greed of the many, as described in the parable, persist to this day, of course.    Andy Knox at his reimaginingthefuture blog1 retells the parable for our global economy this way . . .    For it will be like the CEO of a big chocolate company, who went to the Ivory Coast to ensure a good flow of chocolate into the West and ever expand his chocolate empire.     He called three of his most entrusted leaders to himself and asked them to ensure more chocolate at a lower price. He set one of them, with the most experience over 5 factories, the next one over 3 factories and the last one over 1 factory.      The first two . . .knew if they did well, they would secure their own future in the company and good income for their families. . . they came up with a cunning plan. They decided the best way would be to get cheap or even free labor.     So, they enslaved children from the surrounding area . .  . (from) families who were too poor to keep them. (They) . . . put them to work in the fields, picking the cocoa, or . . . at the grinding machines, under terrible . . . conditions, in which many of the children died or were abused by hard task masters.      The third manager saw what the other two were up to . . . He refused to enslave children and couldn't understand the motivation of the CEO.     He chose to pay people a fair wage, keep their working conditions good and have strong morale amongst his team.     The CEO returned. He was . . . full of praise for the ‘business acumen' of the first two. He paid them well, ensuring his ‘fair trade' logo and set them up for even more . . .     The third guy was out . . . sacked from the company with no right of appeal. Confused and dismayed . . . (he) continued try to live a life that restored people's humanity and hoped for “the more beautiful world our hearts tell us is possible”.     Andy Knox's retelling of the parable demonstrates how Woe and joy are woven fine.   It is hard to do the right thing in systems that demand and oppress at worst and enthrall and distract at best. But it is possible.  It can be hard to see into supply chains like the one described in parable of the chocolate magnate, but to act justly in a problematic system, we can consider our consumption in the first place and be intentional about how we spend our money.  As someone who loves shopping, I'll be the first to admit that making changes can feel overwhelming. Fortunately, there is research to support next steps.  A Nature article, “Scientists' warning on affluence,”2 for instance, lays out a strong correlation between affluence and the growing climate crisis.   The research doesn't stop at gloom and doom; It offers steps to correct for our part in the system.  “For over half a century,” the article says, “worldwide growth in affluence has continuously increased resource use and pollutant emissions far more rapidly than these have been reduced through better technology.     “The affluent citizens of the world.” The article continues, “are responsible for most environmental impacts and are . . .” (here's the parable at play) “central to any future prospect of retreating to safer environmental conditions.”   The research-based article lays out some clear, if not easy, behavioral changes we can make in the U.S. including avoiding . . . oversized, unnecessary and duplicate goods and services; shifting from animal to plant-based food sources; sharing and repairing before replacing goods; and pushing for regulation that reflects concerns for people and the planet.   These may be new habits, even counter cultural to the clarion call for the new, new thing in the days leading up to Black Friday and the biggest shopping season of the year.   But this is what our Gospel teaches us. The Kingdom of God will be brought by the courageous, even the radical. These sorts of changes are necessary, and they are possible.  This sort of faith brings us here today where our shared communion unites us with God and as the Grace Cathedral community.  Our shared commitment to stand up for God's creation and all of humanity, and against systems that oppress, degrade, and injure, means we do not have to be the alone in metaphorically burying the talent.     In the radical presence of the church still standing, still growing, still thriving, we respond the crises of our time as a community.   We have not yet been a community to stand back and watch God's people get boxed up and sealed away from hope, and I know we won't allow God's creation to suffer that either.  Have courage and meet our time – this is the message of our parable today. The third man in the parable does not sow despair by planting that talent, he seeds hope.  Woe and joy are knit together.   God is our source of this joy and the presence that will provide all we need to meet the times.  So, this week, which we mark as Ingathering Sunday, we give thanks for all who have pledged to support the cathedral financially,   and we nudge those who are waiting, to invest your gifts and treasures in this cathedral community.  With courage, together, we are 100% Grace.   

To give to another is to give up something you have. It's the basis of the world philanthropy, “phila,” meaning love for one another. Two episodes ago we talked with Alan Mulally, about how that kind of love isn't wired anywhere in our brains. We are not that far from our hunter-gatherer ancestors – why would we ever give up our food to strangers? Aren't we hungry too? Our guest today is a philanthropist, to no surprise. Gail Miller is the wealthiest person in the state of Utah, having taken on leadership of her late husband's foundation after he passed in 2009. In the time since, Gail's reorganized almost all of the company's assets, selling off the Utah Jazz, moving money and effort into real estate, healthcare, homelessness services.  What does philanthropy mean to Gail? I hope you enjoy.  

142.ਕਿਵੇ ਸਹਿਜਧਾਰੀ ਸਿੱਖ ਨੂੰ ਹੁਕਮਨਾਮੇ ਤੋਂ ਮਿਲੀ ਖੁਸ਼ਖਬਰੀ?How a sehajdhari sikh was given good news through Hukamnama?

"Ou pé di sa" sur Espérance fm du lundi au jeudi de 16h à 18h, le vendredi de 16h à 17h30.

Are you having a hard time communicating? Do you feel you are always misunderstood? It's highly likely that your throat chakra is blocked.In this guided meditation we will unblock your throat chakra using a series of visualization and confirmation techniques. You will feel a deeper connection with your true voice and feel confident enough to speak your truth into the world. ***Become a MEMBER and get access to these same, great sessions extended to 4 hours! You can also purchase them in my shop HERE or find them on my PATREON.Thank you for your support. Without it I would not be able to keep creating.

Devotional Prayer by Be Inspired by His word © Hymn Conquerors and overcomers now are we, Thro' the precious blood of Christ we've victory, If the Lord be for us, we can never fail; Nothing 'gainst his mighty pow'r can e'er prevail. Conquerors are we, thro' the blood, thro' the blood; God will give us victory, thro' the blood, thro' the blood, Thro' the Lamb for sinners slain, Yet who lives and reigns again, More than conquerors are we, More than conquerors are we. And when the Chief Shepherd (Christ) appears, you will receive the [conqueror's] unfading crown of glory. 1 Peter 5:4 AMP Prayer Lord thank you for another beautiful day and grace to be a partaker of it Lord thank you for the forgiveness of sin and your blood shed for my salvation Lord thank you for your mercy that prevails over judgement in my life Father thank you for making me a conqueror above sin and shame Lord thank you for not allowing me be a subject to workers of iniquity Lord thank you for the open heaven upon my destiny Father thank you for the victory given to me over sickness and death Lord thank you for eternal grace to rise above all challenges Lord thank you for terminating evil revelations and their manifestation Lord thank you for the life of the vessel used for this prayer all impacted by it and our household for the victory you gave us over long term unpleasant situation *Personal Prayer* Thank you abba father for answered prayers in Jesus name *Confess Daily: Sin shall not have dominion over me, I am operating in the power of the word of God. I am the righteousness of God in Christ Jesus by faith as Jesus is so am I in this world. The lord has made me a conqueror over every unpleasant situation. Christ has empowered me with His glory. I can never be disappointed or disadvantaged. The word of God is working for me and in me in Jesus name amen.* Today's Prayer by Be Inspired (by His word) © 12th March 2023 --- Send in a voice message: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/be-inspired-by-his-word/message

S5 E3: Celebrating Robert Burns & Address to the Haggis Some hae meat and canna eat, And some wad eat that want it, But we hae meat and we can eat, And sae the Lord be thankit.” Robert Burns is one of the most important figures in Scottish culture and history. Every year, Scots and people around the world come together to celebrate the life and works of the beloved poet. There are many reasons why we should celebrate Robert Burns and his contributions to Scotland. Regarded as the national poet of Scotland, Robert Burns writings celebrate Scottish culture and identity. He wrote extensively about the history of Scotland, and his works are often seen as a representation of the struggles and triumphs of the Scottish people. He was a great advocate for social justice. His poetry and narratives are often used to inspire people to strive for a more just and equitable society. Robert Burns' poetry is varied in its themes and styles, and his writings have been adapted to numerous musical genres. His best-known works include “Auld Lang Syne,” “To a Mouse,” “Comin' Thro' the Rye,” and “A Red, Red Rose.” These poems are beloved for their romanticism, their humor, and their insight into the human experience. Come and join the celebration! Music by Traditional "Auld Lang Syne (Traditional Version" #EpidemicSound www.epidemicsound.com/track/H9ncuJOolx/

Aquesta setmana al Males Vibracions, Ruben i Andreu ens porten novetats quasi en primícia; recuperem la secció "Somnis En Technicolor" de José Canós; també tenim un Agenda Vibradora amb un parell de concerts i tanquem amb olor a peix. Ah! i li fem un xicotet homenatge a Jeff Beck, R.I.P. (Rock In Peace). Tenim flautes, olor a peus, gent dotada, la fira de Sant Sebastià, Godzilla... Un bon Males Vibracions, el 303, cap-i-cua. Jeff Beck - Beck's Bolero; Love Gang - Blinded by Fear; Roni di Capo - Sister; Hot Chicks - Queens Of The Night; Nadia Sheikh - The Shadows; Boneflower - Bromelia; Sex Museum - I'm alone; Family - Wheels; Jack Bruce - Never Tell Your Mother She's Out of Tune; Traffic - (Roamin' Thro' The Gloaming With) Forty Thousand Headmen; Locomotive - A Day in Shining Armour; Jethro Tull - Locomotive Breath; Spooky Tooth - Sunshine Help Me; Nervous Eaters - You smell like a fish.

Jéthro, appelé également Réouel est prêtre de Madian, dans le désert. Quand il rencontre Moïse en fuite et qui cherche un refuge, Jéthro se révèle une aide précieuse en lui offrant son accueil. Mais Moïse trouvera bien plus encore : une famille, une main tendue, un conseiller discret et avisé.

Meet Dustin, Josh, Rander and Zach - some "axeletes" who are competing for top honors at an axe throwing competition that takes place in Fargo this weekend. Hatchets, doubles, stitches and more!See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

It's another epic ballad this week as I catch up with Franz Andres Morrissey to learn more about this song, that was originally collected in Scotland. We also chat about the ups and downs of the Swiss folk scene, have a good old gossip about Robert Burns, and I learn where Martin Carthy gets his tunes from.Brown Adam, or Broun Edom, is a rare song with some old, even pre-Christian, themes and motifs. It unfolds in true storytelling style and includes such colourful characters  as a False Knight, a faithful Lady, and Brown Adam himself, a magnificent young Smith. Shenanigans ensue and there's quite a bit of gratuitous bird shooting before the story moves on. Who needs Netflix when you've got songs like this?Franz is an academic (though he carries it  lightly) and an experienced folk musician, and we talk about his book, Language, the Singer and the Song. We also discuss his play which tells the stories of slavery through words and song.His band Taradiddle (https://taradiddle.ch) has just recorded an album that will be out soon, and there's a rumour that there'll be tour dates announced shortly. You can hear more of Franz's music on Soundcloud.MusicBrown Adam was performed and produced by by Franz. The episode also features three live recordings by Taradiddle: Benediction Song, Who's The Fool Now, Hey Ca' Thro and Leaving Limerick. You can find more here. There's also a snippet of the song that Franz and I recorded together remotely, Now Westlin Winds.AcknowledgementsFranz and I met through The Barnstoners, a self-organising group of musicians who have all been to the fabulous Stones Barn run by Maddy Prior and Rose-Ellen Kemp up in Cumbria. It goes without saying that we're big fans of theirs and recommend them highly.

Welcome to this Mental Health Awareness Month Lit of Christmas party. In this episode, Marty is joined again by his friend, Madeline, as they get blitzed on scotch and sodas, talk about J. D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye, and all that David Copperfield crap. BONUS POINTS: Count how many times Marty says he's sweating. Marty would like to dedicate this episode to his good friend, Lon Emerick, who was NOT a phony. Godspeed, my friend! RECIPE FOR SCOTCH AND SODA: Ingredients: 4 oz. of scotch of choice 4 oz. of soda of choice (Diet Coke, club soda) Fill a high ball glass with ice and add scotch. Top with soda and gently stir. RECIPE FOR VIRGIN SCOTCH AND SODA AND TONIC: Follow recipe above, but substitute non-alcoholic whiskey such as Spiritless's Kentucky 74 for scotch. Marty has an Master's in fiction writing, MFA in poetry writing, and teaches in the English Department at Northern Michigan University in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. He served two terms at Poet Laureate of the Upper Peninsula, and has published the poetry collection The Mysteries of the Rosary from Mayapple Press. For more of Marty's thoughts and writing visit his blog Saint Marty (saintmarty-marty.blogspot.com) or listen to his other podcast Confessions of Saint Marty, also on Anchor.fm. Marty is a writer, blogger, wine sipper, easy drunk, and poetry obsessor who puts his Christmas tree up in mid-October and refuses to take it down until the snow starts melting. Madeline has a BA in English Creative Writing and gin drinking. Currently, she works the Reference Desk at a library, but she will soon become a graduate student studying for her Masters of Library Science. In her spare time, she enjoys reading eco-lit, true crime, and Alice Hoffman books. Music for this episode: "Jingle Bells Jazzy Style" by Julius H, used courtesy of Pixabay. "A Christmas Treat" by Magic-828, used courtesy of Pixabay. A Christmas Carol sound clips from: The Campbell Theater 1939 radio production of A Christmas Carol, narrated by Orson Welles and starring Lionel Barrymore. Other music in the episode: "Comin' Thro the Rye." Siobahn Miller. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLrIG51x3Jg) This month's Christmas lit: Salinger, J. D. The Catcher in the Rye. Little, Brown, 1951.

We react to the Thor: Love and Thunder teaser!!!

BIBLE TREASURES || R. Stanley || 06-04-2022 || Topic 4 || How not to Meditate || Lesson 2 || Do not rush thro' your meditation. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/stanley-r/message

ODD 13 avec Jéthro et Claude Eric Robert by Radio Réveil

The Drowsy World Dreams Onby Walter Everette HawkinsA flower bloomed out on a woodland hill,A song rose up from the woodland rill;But the floweret bloomed but to wither away,And no man heard what the stream had to say,  For the drowsy world dreamed on.Thro the frills of a curtain a moonbeam crept,Till it fell on the crib where a nursling slept;And a whisper and smile lit a wee dimpled face,But none save the angels their beauty could trace,  For the drowsy world dreamed on.A wee bird piped out mid the corn,A rose bloomed out beneath the thorn;But the scent of the rose and the birdling's layOn the winds of the morning were wafted away  While the drowsy world dreamed on.And the drowsy old world's growing gloomy and gray,While the joys that are sweetest are passing away;And the charms that inspire like the picture of dawnAre but playthings of Time—they gleam and are gone,    While the drowsy world dreams on. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit iwillreadtoyou.substack.com/subscribe

Master Your Well-Being and Achieve Dreams with Joanne Sumner  Life is filled with so much noise, demands, and responsibilities. This can make life so overwhelming and almost uncontrollable. To attain some balance, we all dream and desire to reduce stress, anxiety, and depression levels through various ways, such as meditation, music, or getting involved in […]

We return from "vacation" to get you ready for this month's Top Ten show.

Pirate Music for the Pirate Life

Welcome to season two of To Whoever's Listening!  We have a lot to talk about, so grab a snack, drink or whatever gives you pleasure and enjoy the show! Follow us on all of our social media to keep up with the guys and be the first to see all of our craziness! We love youInstagram: @towhoeverslisteningTwitter: @TWLpodYoutube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCaJA...Tik Tok: @towhoeverslistening

Ken and Mila start their literature series with Catcher in the Rye and discuss themes of existential angst, teacher-student relationships, and how Holden is Literally Ken. They also discuss "negative" or dystopian fantasies and martyrdom culture in politics and art in light of Mila watching the Handmaid's Tale for the first time, and much more. Support us at patreon.com/unacceptablepodcast

Greg flies solo today and puts together a last minute message on Amazing Grace (the hymn and for us). “Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need” (Heb. 4:16). Amazing grace! how sweet the sound!/ That saved a wretch like me!/ I once was lost, but now am found;/ Was blind, but now I see”—verse 1 of the hymn, “Amazing Grace.” “Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,/ And grace my fears relieved./ How precious did that grace appear/ The hour I first believed!”—verse 2 of the hymn, “Amazing Grace. “Thro' many dangers, toils, and snares,/ I have already come./ ‘Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,/ And grace will lead me home”—verse 3 of the hymn, “Amazing Grace.” “When we've been there ten thousand years,/ Bright, shining as the sun,/ We've no less days to sing God's praise/ Than when we first begun”—verse 4 of the hymn, “Amazing Grace.” --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/abishai/message

The question of would you die for your significant other came up on today's P1 Podcast because Thro and his fiancé Hayley got into that conversation last night. Well, some of the answers in the room were shocking!

Jesus' ascension and session at the right hand of the Father

Info --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

https://abdjuwear.com/

This episode of Fun City is Sponsored by Inked Gaming! Inked Gaming makes high-quality table top gaming gear, whether it's designed by their community of international artists or if it's your own custom design. Checkout with the code FUNCITY for an extra discount!Support the show at http://patreon.com/funcityventuresShare the show with your friends! https://funcity.ventures--Find more about Stillfleet at https://stillfleet.com--@funcityventures is the show on twitter@funcityventures is the show on instagram@bijanstephen is Remy, the Sleeper (human) Blooder@randwiches is Merkis, the Jalasti Banshee@nicholasguercio is Vynos, the Conscript (human) Tremulantand @shodell is Beta, the Shoodtha Pir@taylordotbiz is Oat, Herr, Pop, Dorito, Torres, Deep River and the Salesthem.@mikerugnetta is everything else--This episode of Float City was recorded in various locations across Brooklyn New York. It was produced, edited and sound designed by Mike Rugnetta.Pixlriffs perceives it to roll backward behind his path, into a globe itself infolding; like a sun, or like a moonOur music is by Sam Tyndall - https://arpline.bandcamp.com/Remy's flute playing is by Jake Fridkis - https://instagram.com/flutebrosOur art is by Tess Stone - http://notdrunkenough.com/Our Discord mods are Olivia Gulin, Kit Pulliam and Kestrel The voice of Artemis is Molly Templeton--The Elevator Music is Doom and Gloom Archipelago by Nice Wizard: https://soundcloud.com/nicewizard/doom-and-gloom-archipelagoCC-BY Licensed Music / SFX Use in this episode:https://freesound.org/people/SieuAmThanh/sounds/423353/https://freesound.org/people/madmerv/sounds/27169/https://freesound.org/people/InspectorJ/sounds/410406/https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmxQi1RSg_0

It'd been a while since TMAT's last tournament, so Red Jacket was like, "gotta shake off some cobweb legs, dudes." * If your tournament scene is quiet (or you're looking for batreps involving Barad-Dur, Hunter Orcs, Angmar, all-mounted Rohan, or Easterlings (with Shagrat)), Tiberius, Centaur, and Rythbryt are back to give you some before-action predictions and post-action breakdowns from our recent 700 point tournament. It's a time-travel miracle! ** Music: Happy Haunts by Aaron Kenny ----- Intro, Tourney Rules, and Army Lists (0:00) Pre-Tourney Predictions (58:52) Round 1 Re-Cap (Rohan v. Angmar, Azog v. Sauron) (1:11:36) Round 2 Re-Cap (Rohan v. Sauron, Easterlings v. Angmar, Rohan v. Azog) (1:59:56) Round 3 Re-Cap (Easterlings v. Azog, Angmar v. Sauron) (2:43:16) List Modifications and Lessons Learned (3:30:23) Final Placements and Parting Thoughts (4:19:57) * Okay, fine... generously, that's a very rough paraphrase. ** Patent pending. ----- TMAT Talks is a podcast by Tell Me a Tale, Great or Small, a community of American table-top wargamers who enjoy the Middle-Earth Strategy Battle Game by Games Workshop. Adventures Await! Like what you hear? Join the discussion: tellmeatalegreatorsmall.blogspot.com facebook.com/TmatSBG --- This episode is sponsored by · Anchor: The easiest way to make a podcast. https://anchor.fm/app

In this video, Devon and Bryar breakdown God of War, the breakout reboot from Sony Santa Monica Studios released in 2018 on PlayStation 4. #GodofWar #GodOfWar2018 #PlayStationPodcast Table of Contents 0:00 - Intro 1:37 - The loss of Chadwick Boseman 3:04 - 43 seconds of Silence for Chadwick Boseman 3:47 - Our Condolences to the Boseman family, and his friends. We’re so sorry for your loss. 4:02 - The Amory: What we’re playing 5:03 - Why you should chill the flip out about Marvel’s Avengers Microtransactions 11:13 - Writers Room: Who wrote/developed the project 11:30 - Who wrote God of War? 14:27 - The game development of God of War 14:34 - The incredible combat design of the Leviathan Axe 16:47 - Official apology for name butchery 17:47 - Deep Impact 17:54 - The last great E3 was in 2016 - https://youtu.be/hPcuMRTkEdQ 20:54 - Bryar has never given a shit about E3 :( 22:00 - The boys lament about scratched PS2 Discs 23:30 - Devon always thought E3 was the Nerd equivalent of the Super Bowl 23:56 - A quick mention of the 2018 PlayStation E3 Showcase 24:50 - Reviews for God of War 25:42 - Top Positive Review for God of War from Giant Bomb 26:24 - Top Negative Review for God of War from “Mindurbidness” 28:46 - What did we think about the reboot? 28:55 - Bryar’s thoughts on God of War 29:22 - Devon’s thoughts on God of War 32:12 - The evolution of Kratos from the Orgies of Yesteryear - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Xwz6sm3FmY 33:49 - Devon’s overconfidence in the God of War difficulty mode 34:00 - God of War proves how you can do New Game Plus correctly 35:25 - There and Back Again 35:32 - God of War Synopsis 36:29 - Chapter One: Can You Hunt? 38:42 - The Krato’s combat in God of War vs Thro’s combat in Marvel’s Avengers 39:00 - Kratos vs Baldur: Round One 40:32 - Seeing the World Serpent would have been game over for most people. 42:00 - Pigs aren’t just for archery practice 43:41 - The set design of the turtle treehouse 46:28 - What would you have done if you went up the wrong mountain? 48:20 - Mimir, has joined the Party! 50:31 - Chapter Two: You, Me, and the Severed Head Make three. 51:00 - Mimir is revived and reveals the identity of Freya 52:16 - The toll that combat takes on Atreus 52:50 - The biggest “Fuck Yeah” moment of God of War 55:20 - Kratos heads to Helheim for a key ingredient 58:00 - Kratos tells Atreus that he is, in fact, a Demi-God 58:18 - What would you do if you found out you were a Demi-God? 1:01:10 - Thor blames Magni’s death on Modi 1:02:04 - Atreus is a chip off of the old block 1:07:01 - Chapter Three: New God on the Block 1:07:10 - Kratos and Atreus mend fences 1:08:11 - Baulder beats them out of Jourmangander 1:08:03 - Baulders many mommy issues 1:10:00 - The prophecy of Atreus and Kratos 1:10:52 - Kaptain Kuba’s interpretation 1:12:10 - Devon’s theory on the mural’s meaning 1:13:20 - Bryar’s theory on the mural’s meaning 1:15:34 - The twist on Faye’s origin 1:16:24 - Loki Begins 1:16:40 - The MCU ruined Norse mythology research 1:17:22 - Mimir explains the three-years-long Fimbulwinter 1:18:25 - Kratos and Atreus make it home 1:20:04 - Atreus’ vision of Thor 1:20:38 - God of War Ends: Can Atreus see the future? 1:20:51 - If We Could Retcon God of War 1:21:17 - Community feedback - DarkEagle Gaming feedback 1:22:48 - What Bryar would change 1:29:27 - What Devon would change 1:34:00 - Closing

Auguries of Innocence (continued) William Blake He who shall train the Horse to War Shall never pass the Polar Bar  The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat  Feed them & thou wilt grow fat  The Gnat that sings his Summers Song Poison gets from Slanders tongue  The poison of the Snake & Newt Is the sweat of Envys Foot  The poison of the Honey Bee Is the Artists Jealousy The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags  A Truth thats told with bad intent Beats all the Lies you can invent  It is right it should be so  Man was made for Joy & Woe  And when this we rightly know  Thro the World we safely go  Joy & Woe are woven fine  A Clothing for the soul divine  Under every grief & pine Runs a joy with silken twine  The Babe is more than swadling Bands Throughout all these Human Lands Tools were made & Born were hands  Every Farmer Understands Every Tear from Every Eye Becomes a Babe in Eternity  This is caught by Females bright And returnd to its own delight  The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar  Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore  The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath Writes Revenge in realms of Death  The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air Does to Rags the Heavens tear  The Soldier armd with Sword & Gun  Palsied strikes the Summers Sun The poor Mans Farthing is worth more Than all the Gold on Africs Shore One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands  Or if protected from on high  Does that whole Nation sell & buy  He who mocks the Infants Faith Shall be mockd in Age & Death  He who shall teach the Child to Doubt The rotting Grave shall neer get out  He who respects the Infants faith Triumphs over Hell & Death  The Childs Toys & the Old Mans Reasons Are the Fruits of the Two seasons  The Questioner who sits so sly  Shall never know how to Reply  He who replies to words of Doubt Doth put the Light of Knowledge out  The Strongest Poison ever known Came from Caesars Laurel Crown  Nought can Deform the Human Race Like to the Armours iron brace  When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow  A Riddle or the Crickets Cry Is to Doubt a fit Reply  The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile Make Lame Philosophy to smile  He who Doubts from what he sees Will neer Believe do what you Please  If the Sun & Moon should Doubt  Theyd immediately Go out  To be in a Passion you Good may Do  But no Good if a Passion is in you  The Whore & Gambler by the State Licencd build that Nations Fate  The Harlots cry from Street to Street  Shall weave Old Englands winding Sheet  The Winners Shout the Losers Curse  Dance before dead Englands Hearse  Every Night & every Morn Some to Misery are Born  Every Morn and every Night Some are Born to sweet delight  Some are Born to sweet delight  Some are Born to Endless Night  We are led to Believe a Lie When we see not Thro the Eye Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night  When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light  God Appears & God is Light To those poor Souls who dwell in Night  But does a Human Form Display To those who Dwell in Realms of day  

DespairBy H. P. LovecraftO’er the midnight moorlands crying,Thro’ the cypress forests sighing,In the night-wind madly flying,Hellish forms with streaming hair;In the barren branches creaking,By the stagnant swamp-pools speaking,Past the shore-cliffs ever shrieking;Damn’d daemons of despair.Once, I think I half remember,Ere the grey skies of NovemberQuench’d my youth’s aspiring ember,Liv’d there such a thing as bliss;Skies that now are dark were beaming,Gold and azure, splendid seemingTill I learn’d it all was dreaming—Deadly drowsiness of Dis.But the stream of Time, swift flowing,Brings the torment of half-knowing—Dimly rushing, blindly goingPast the never-trodden lea;And the voyager, repining,Sees the wicked death-fires shining,Hears the wicked petrel’s whiningAs he helpless drifts to sea.Evil wings in ether beating;Vultures at the spirit eating;Things unseen forever fleetingBlack against the leering sky.Ghastly shades of bygone gladness,Clawing fiends of future sadness,Mingle in a cloud of madnessEver on the soul to lie.Thus the living, lone and sobbing,In the throes of anguish throbbing,With the loathsome Furies robbingNight and noon of peace and rest.But beyond the groans and gratingOf abhorrent Life, is waitingSweet Oblivion, culminatingAll the years of fruitless quest.Find us online at thatsnotcanon.com/epigraphySubscribe to us on ITUNES, STITCHER, SPOTIFY, RADIOPUBLIC or your podcatcher of choice.Find us on FACEBOOK, TWITTER or INSTAGRAM. See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

Reflets d'actualité : 2020-06;

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Duncan Castles joins Ian McGarry to bring you exclusive news and in-depth analysis of the biggest clubs in world football.Today: - Glazers discuss Solskjaer failure - Man Utd like Pochettino, will he accept the poisoned chalice? - Scholes' shirt-and-tie wisdom - Kroenke smiles through Arsenal strife - Watford struggle to find 'rescue manager' - VAR's £100m+ error? - Marco Silva's last stand? - Hero and Villain For information regarding your data privacy, visit acast.com/privacy

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A mansion in the woods. A town in the fog. That sound in the well. With the help of our listeners, Alex leads Andrew down some of video games’ darkest corridors... and into the unknown for our Halloween special.

Songwriter Iain Matthews and author/broadcaster Ian Clayton join Jason Barnard to talk about Iain's critically acclaimed memoir Thro' My Eyes. We charts Iain's life from childhood to Carnaby Street in the mid-sixties. Iain was soon recruited on vocals for Fairport Convention before embarking in the groups Matthews Southern Comfort, Plainsong and as a solo artist. […] The post Iain Matthews – Thro My Eyes appeared first on The Strange Brew.

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that’s right! we give u the guilty pleasures from this week…. the 80’s! get ready!! ps u can dance no one is watching

Adam talks with Sara Pascoe and Richard Ayoade, (two British comedians who have also read and written, more than one book) about J.D. Salinger's classic 1951 novel 'The Catcher in the Rye'.SYNOPSIS: The story begins with 17 year old Holden Caulfield recuperating following a breakdown. The rest of the book is an account from Holden's point of view, of the events that lead to that breakdown, which took place the previous Winter in the days following his expulsion from Pencey Prep, a private school. Holden's roommate is a meathead called Stradlater who has sexy plans for Jean Gallagher, a childhood friend of Holdens who he feels protective of. A a fight ensues after which Holden spends two days killing time in New York before he has to face his parents and inform them of his expulsion. We learn that things have been difficult for Holden since the death of his younger brother Allie when Holden was 13. From time to time Holden dwells on the memory of Allie's old baseball glove on which his little brother had written poems to read during boring baseball games. Now Holden entertains hopes of moving in with his older brother DB, a WWII vet who has become a successful screenwriter in Hollywood. During his visit to New York, a lonely Holden visits a jazz club and spends much of his remaining cash buying drinks for three older women, after which he arranges an abortive liaison with Sunny, a teenage prostitute and falls foul of her thuggish pimp Maurice. Later Holden arranges a meeting with an old girlfriend, Sally Hayes, and is briefly looked after by a well meaning teacher Mr Antolini. But Mr Antolini's affections are interpreted as predatory by Holden who ends up, distraught and emotional, creeping into his parents house to see the only person in the world he feels he can really talk to - his little sister Phoebe.Thanks to Anneka Myson for additional editing and Seamus Murphy-Mitchel for production support on this episode.RELATED LINKS'SALINGER' (2013 DOCUMENTARY FEATURE)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JSFr7YdKLE'J.D. SALINGER DOESN'T WANT TO TALK' (1999 BBC DOCUMENTARY)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxVRPbhtxRg&t=529s'J.D. SALINGER'S WOMEN' (1998 NEW YORKER ARTICLE BY PAUL ALEXANDER)http://nymag.com/nymetro/arts/features/2162/SARA PASCOE - SEX POWER AND MONEY (2019)https://www.waterstones.com/book/sex-power-money/sara-pascoe/9781785176838RICHARD AYOADE IN CONVERSATION WITH ADAM BUXTON AT SOUTHBANK CENTRE, 5th SEPTEMBER 2019https://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/whats-on/134531-richard-ayoade-ayoade-top-2019ORANGE JUICE - ALL THAT EVER MATTERED (1984)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=egb1FVNIo38FLORENCE EASTON - 'COMIN' THRO' THE RYE' (1928)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=byAvP_pIXO0ADAM BUXTON PODCAST RAMBLE CHAT MUGhttps://adam-buxton.backstreetmerch.com/ADAM BUXTON'S OLD BITS DVDhttps://www.gofasterstripe.com/THE ADAM BUXTON APP

Jess and Raven begin this episode by showing no mercy to Game of Thrones' final episode and ripping the writers a new one. 'Cause like, seriously? How you gonna do Game of Thrones dirty like that? And in Cry to Heaven, Guido begins training Tonio's voice, and the tension between them rises. Tonio also starts checking out another student at the conservatorio... Thanks for listening! If you want more of the podcast, you can follow us on Facebook (facebook.com/tigbabpodcast) or Instagram (instagram.com/tigbabpodcast).Support the show (https://www.patreon.com/teaisgoodbooksarebetter)

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Today on The Literary Life, your hosts Angelina Stanford and Cindy Rollins sit down for a chat with their friend and fellow reader, Mary Jo Tate. As well as being an avid reader, Mary Jo is an author, editor, teacher, book collector and single mother to 4 young men. A veteran homeschooler, Mary Jo is the author of Flourish: Balance for Homeschool Moms, and you can learn more about her and her work at FlourishAtHome.com. In this interview, Angelina and Cindy talk with Mary Jo about her own background as a reader, beginning with her childhood memories of books. They discuss the influence of family, librarians and teachers on the life of a young reader. Mary Jo talks about different seasons of her reading life and gives some advice for the busy, exhausting time as a mother of young children. Another topic of discussion is how Mary Jo's education and profession grew out of her love of literature. Upcoming Show Schedule: Episode 7 (May 28): Gaudy Night ch 8-15 Episode 8 (June 4): Gaudy Night, ch 16-23, complete Episode 9 (June 11): Are Women Human? by Dorothy Sayers Book List: (Amazon affiliate links) Out of the Ashes by Anthony Esolen One Writer's Beginnings by Eudora Welty Raggedy Ann Stories by Johnny Gruelle The Little House Series by Laura Ingalls Wilder Little Women by Louisa May Alcott Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery Tales from Shakespeare by Charles and Mary Lamb The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis Andrew Lang's Fairy Books The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald At Home in Mitford by Jan KaronS Ulysses by Alfred, Lord Tennyson It little profits that an idle king,  By this still hearth, among these barren crags,  Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole  Unequal laws unto a savage race,  That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.  I cannot rest from travel: I will drink  Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd  Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those  That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when  Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades  Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;  For always roaming with a hungry heart  Much have I seen and known; cities of men  And manners, climates, councils, governments,  Myself not least, but honour'd of them all;  And drunk delight of battle with my peers,  Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.  I am a part of all that I have met;  Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'  Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades  For ever and forever when I move.  How dull it is to pause, to make an end,  To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!  As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life  Were all too little, and of one to me  Little remains: but every hour is saved  From that eternal silence, something more,  A bringer of new things; and vile it were  For some three suns to store and hoard myself,  And this gray spirit yearning in desire  To follow knowledge like a sinking star,  Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.           This is my son, mine own Telemachus,  To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,—  Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil  This labour, by slow prudence to make mild  A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees  Subdue them to the useful and the good.  Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere  Of common duties, decent not to fail  In offices of tenderness, and pay  Meet adoration to my household gods,  When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.           There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:  There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,  Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me—  That ever with a frolic welcome took  The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed  Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;  Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;  Death closes all: but something ere the end,  Some work of noble note, may yet be done,  Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.  The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:  The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep  Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,  'T is not too late to seek a newer world.  Push off, and sitting well in order smite  The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds  To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths  Of all the western stars, until I die.  It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:  It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,  And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.  Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'  We are not now that strength which in old days  Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;  One equal temper of heroic hearts,  Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will  To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. Thanks to our Sponsor: The Literary Life Podcast is brought to you New College Franklin. Located in beautiful Franklin Tennessee, NCF is a four year Christian Liberal Arts college dedicated to excellent academics and discipling relationships among students and faculty. Connect with Us: Find Angelina at  https://angelinastanford.com and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ANGStanford/ Find Cindy at https://cindyrollins.net and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/cindyrollins.net/ Jump into our private Facebook group, The Literary Life Discussion Group, and let’s get the book talk going! http://bit.ly/literarylifeFB

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Just a Closer Walk with Thee is a traditional gospel song that has been performed and recorded by many artists. Performed as either an instrumental or vocal, "A Closer Walk" is perhaps the most frequently played number in the hymn and dirge section of traditional New Orleans jazz funerals. The title and lyrics of the song allude to the Biblical passage from 2 Corinthians 5:7 which states, "We walk by faith, not by sight" and James 4:8, "Come near to God and he will come near to you."The precise author of "A Closer Walk" was unknown until recently, although Peterson claimed that was not the case. Circumstantial evidence strongly suggested it dated back to southern African-American churches of the nineteenth century, possibly even prior to the Civil War, as some personal African American histories recall "slaves singing as they worked in the fields a song about walking by the Lord's side.". Horace Boyer cites a story that repudiates this claim, stating,“On a train trip from Kansas City to Chicago, Morris exited the train on one of its stops to get some fresh air and heard one of the station porters singing a song. He paid little attention at first, but after he reboarded the train the song remained with him and became so prominent in his mind that at the next stop, he left the train, took another train back to the earlier station, and asked the porter to sing the song again. Morris wrote down the words and music and published the song “Just a Closer Walk with Thee” that year, 1940, adding a few lyrics of his own to provide more breadth. Within two years the song became a standard in gospel music, eventually becoming a standard in Jazz, and then moving into the realm of American folk music, known and sung by many (Boyer, 75).”source: wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Just_a_Closer_Walk_with_TheeLyrics:1 I am weak but Thou art strong;Jesus, keep me from all wrong;I'll be satisfied as longAs I walk, let me walk close to Thee.Refrain:Just a closer walk with Thee,Grant it, Jesus, is my plea,Daily walking close to Thee,Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.2 Thro' this world of toil and snares,If I falter, Lord, who cares?Who with me my burden shares?None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee. [Refrain]3 When my feeble life is o'er,Time for me will be no more;Guide me gently, safely o'erTo Thy kingdom shore, to Thy shore. [Refrain]

Just a Closer Walk with Thee is a traditional gospel song that has been performed and recorded by many artists. Performed as either an instrumental or vocal, "A Closer Walk" is perhaps the most frequently played number in the hymn and dirge section of traditional New Orleans jazz funerals. The title and lyrics of the song allude to the Biblical passage from 2 Corinthians 5:7 which states, "We walk by faith, not by sight" and James 4:8, "Come near to God and he will come near to you."The precise author of "A Closer Walk" was unknown until recently, although Peterson claimed that was not the case. Circumstantial evidence strongly suggested it dated back to southern African-American churches of the nineteenth century, possibly even prior to the Civil War, as some personal African American histories recall "slaves singing as they worked in the fields a song about walking by the Lord's side.". Horace Boyer cites a story that repudiates this claim, stating,“On a train trip from Kansas City to Chicago, Morris exited the train on one of its stops to get some fresh air and heard one of the station porters singing a song. He paid little attention at first, but after he reboarded the train the song remained with him and became so prominent in his mind that at the next stop, he left the train, took another train back to the earlier station, and asked the porter to sing the song again. Morris wrote down the words and music and published the song “Just a Closer Walk with Thee” that year, 1940, adding a few lyrics of his own to provide more breadth. Within two years the song became a standard in gospel music, eventually becoming a standard in Jazz, and then moving into the realm of American folk music, known and sung by many (Boyer, 75).”source: wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Just_a_Closer_Walk_with_TheeLyrics:1 I am weak but Thou art strong;Jesus, keep me from all wrong;I'll be satisfied as longAs I walk, let me walk close to Thee.Refrain:Just a closer walk with Thee,Grant it, Jesus, is my plea,Daily walking close to Thee,Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.2 Thro' this world of toil and snares,If I falter, Lord, who cares?Who with me my burden shares?None but Thee, dear Lord, none but Thee. [Refrain]3 When my feeble life is o'er,Time for me will be no more;Guide me gently, safely o'erTo Thy kingdom shore, to Thy shore. [Refrain]

DETAILS: This week, Cody and Elaine talk about the struggle that so often comes right before a breakthrough. Right before Elaine went into the hospital, she was studying the book of Job but got frustrated at the constant negativity, so she stopped. Then tragedy struck and like Job, Cody and Elaine were left asking God, “why”? Fast forward to this last week when Cody felt God impress on him to read, you guessed it, Job. It was then Elaine realized she stopped reading right before Job's breakthrough… Can you relate? --- DEFINITION: /ˈbrākˌTHro͞o/ - a sudden, dramatic, and important discovery or development. - an instance of achieving success in a particular sphere or activity. --- CONNECT: Web: http://therecklesspursuit.com/ Facebook: http://bit.ly/trp_fb Twitter: http://bit.ly/trp_twitter Instagram: http://bit.ly/trp_insta --- JOIN THE RECKLESS COMMUNITY: If you'd like to keep the conversation going, we want to invite you, our reckless listeners to join The Reckless Community! Follow this link and ask to be a part! http://bit.ly/trp_community Now, go be reckless! --- Hey listener! If you don't mind, take a moment to rate/review our show! It will only take a moment and it helps us out a ton!

Intro to The Good Road (PBS TV Show) companion podcast. Meet some of the interesting characters who spend their lives fixing the world's problems, with skill, humor and brave spirits. A weekly, 30-minute podcast hosted by Earl Bridges and Craig Martin of the TV show "The Good Road" ​that tackles the really tough topics of global philanthropy. www.TheGoodRoad.tv

Comic book expert Lenard Teague comes in to break down The Avengers Infinity Wars.  Then we talk about Donald Glover's "This is America" video.  Why are people so mad, bro?

Ulysses by Lord Alfred Tennyson It little profits that an idle king, By this still hearth, among these barren crags, Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole Unequal laws unto a savage race, That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me. I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vext the dim sea: I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known; cities of men And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honour'd of them all; And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades For ever and forever when I move. How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use! As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life Were all too little, and of one to me Little remains: but every hour is saved From that eternal silence, something more, A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought. This is my son, mine own Telemachus, To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,— Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil This labour, by slow prudence to make mild A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees Subdue them to the useful and the good. Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere Of common duties, decent not to fail In offices of tenderness, and pay Meet adoration to my household gods, When I am gone. He works his work, I mine. There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail: There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners, Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me— That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old; Old age hath yet his honour and his toil; Death closes all: but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends, 'T is not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die. It may be that the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew. Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho' We are not now that strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are; One equal temper of heroic hearts, Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Jeff is out doing Jeff things, Charely is single handedly reducing the monster population in the New World, and Alex is preparing for the great war in Azeroth. This week we run the gauntlet between Destiny 2 news, an annoying rumor mill about what Microsoft is up to, game delays, and very serious not funny shit that makes humanity a little bit worse. We wrap it all up this week with the deepest dive on how to get started with Monster Hunter World if you are so inclined, so yeah. Sharpen up, cram down a well done streak, and set phaser to be ruined this week. YouTube: youtube.com/swstudiozEmail: wickedawesomecast@gmail.comWe also have a FaceBookSometimes we remember to post on Twitter

A listener emailed that they were just getting started with Celtic music. Wouldn't it be great to have an episode that could be a great intro guide? That's what this show is all about. You'll enjoy two-hours of awesome indie Celtic music from Jameson's Revenge, Poitin, Ed Miller, Cady Finlayson, The Elders, Mithril Duo, Jesse Ferguson, The Rogues, Rambling Sailors, Derek Warfield & The Young Wolfe Tones, Runa, We Banjo 3, The Ne'er Duwels, The Gothard Sisters, Rathkeltair, Wicked Tinkers, Ockham's Razor, House of Hamill, Cara Dillon, Oisin McAuley, Screeched Inn, The Flying Toads, The Selkie Girls, Three Mile Stone, Lothlorien, Battlefield Band, Banna De Dha, Thomas "Doc" Grauzer, Rise, Socks in the Frying Pan. http://celticmusicpodcast.com/ Listen and share this podcast. Download 34 Celtic MP3s for Free at http://bestcelticmusic.net. Subscribe to the Celtic Music Magazine. This is our free newsletter and your guide to the latest Celtic music and podcast news. Remember to support the artists who support this podcast: buy their CDs, download their MP3s, see their shows, and drop them an email to let them know you heard them on the Irish and Celtic Music Podcast. TODAY'S SHOW IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY... THE CELTIC INVASION OF THE ISLE OF SKYE I'm going to Scotland in 2018, and I want you to join me. We will experience the Isle of Skye, where the Bonnie Prince Charlie fled with the aid of Flora MacDonald after the defeat of the Jacobite Rising of 1745. The Isle of Skye is the largest and northernmost of the major islands in the Inner Hebrides. Some call it one of the most-beautiful islands in the world. You can join our small group of invaders as we get to Know the region through its culture, history, and legends. Subscribe to the mailing list to join the invasion at http://celticinvasion.com/ NOTES * Helping you celebrate Celtic culture through music. My name is Marc Gunn. I am a Celtic and Geek musician and podcaster. This podcast is dedicated to the indie Celtic musicians. I want to ask you to support these artists. Share the show with your friends. And find more episodes at celticmusicpodcast.com. You can also support this podcast on Patreon. Special thanks to our newest Patrons of the Podcast: Sean Mac Aodha, Kas, and our new Celtic Superstar, Hunter Melville. Years ago, a traditional Irish musician sat me down and told this autoharp-playing Renaissance festival musician what Celtic music really was. He gave me a list of popular trad musicians I should listen to. And I found some awesome bands in his list. That meeting was an important moment in my life. Because I did not see Celtic music the way he did. His definition narrowly defined traditional Irish music. For me, Celtic music is vast and growing. It encompasses the traditional songs and tunes as well as the contemporary arrangements that are more accessible to the average listener, like Celtic rock and even Celtic New Age. So when I started the Celtic Music Magazine and later the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast. One of my goals was to share my definition of Celtic music as well as to help independent Celtic musicians. So this week I'm gonna share songs and tunes that I think will be a great intro to someone getting started with Celtic music. I picked some of my favorite bands and tunes. I got a little of input as well from my Patrons of the Podcast. Without my Patrons support this show would not have happened. This is in fact the first of two 2-hour shows that you get because we hit a big milestone on Patreon. Head on over to Patreon.com/celticpodcast if you want to show your support and get more two-hour specials. Let's get on with the music! CELTIC PODCAST NEWS VOTE IN THE CELTIC TOP 20. It's easier than ever to do. Just list the show number, and the name of one or two bands. That's it. You can vote once for each episode help me create next year's Best Celtic music of 2017 episode. http://bestcelticmusic.net/vote/ The Kickstarter for the 2nd House of Hamill CD is now running. Big congrats to Jesse Ferguson who has earned over 6,000,000 views on his YouTube channel. If you like Celtic folk songs, you want to subscribe to his channel. If you enjoy this show and want to support indie Celtic music, become a Patron of the Podcast. Or you can also visit the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast store. If you're not subscribed to the Celtic Christmas Podcast, a new episode comes out right after Thanksgiving. You'll find Spotify playlists, videos, and two Celtic Christmas CDs, including a compilation that features Celtic music from several of the bands featured in this episode. Go to http://celticchristmasmusic.net to subscribe. If you're looking to want to find out more about a particular band that you hear in this show, go to the shownotes at celticmusicpodcast.com and you'll find time stamps for every song featured. THIS WEEK IN CELTIC MUSIC 0:04 "Murty Delaney's/The Empty Bedpan" by Jameson's Revenge from While Yer Up 6:03 "The Congress Reel/Unknown Reel" by Poitin from Poitin 9:10 "The Broom of the Cowdenknowes" by Ed Miller from Generations of Change 12:32 "Ships Are Sailing/Over the Moor to Maggie" by Cady Finlayson from Irish Coffee 15:37 "Even the Great Ones Fall" by The Elders from Story Road 20:30 "Outlander Set: Loch Lomond / Comin' Thro' the Rye / Clean Pease Strae / The High Road to Linton (feat. Andy Kruspe)" by Mithril Duo from Bottom of the Punch Bowl 26:20 "The Spanish Lady" by Jesse Ferguson from Folk Favourites 29:23 CELTIC PODCAST NEWS 29:58 "Amazine Grace" by The Rogues from Made in Texas 33:30 "Pay Me My Money Down" by Rambling Sailors from Bright Shining Clear 36:28 "Farewell to Ireland" by Derek Warfield & The Young Wolfe Tones from Far Away In Australia 39:58 "Ain't No Grave" by Runa from Current Affairs 44:20 "Puncheon Floor-Late For The Dance" by We Banjo 3 from Gather the Good 48:07 "Raggle Taggle Gypsy" by The Ne'er Duwels from The Ne'er Duwels 53:21 MORE CELTIC PODCAST NEWS 54:01 "Midsummer Jigs" by The Gothard Sisters from Story Girl 56:32 "How the Irish Saved My Life" by Rathkeltair from Something Good For a Change 59:58 "Hammer on the Anvil" by Wicked Tinkers from Hammered 1:03:42 "The Auld Triangle" by Ockham's Razor from Job's Comforter 1:06:42 "Fierce Cottage" by House of Hamill from Wide Awake 1:11:53 CELTIC INVASION VACATIONS 1:12:26 "Bold Jamie" by Cara Dillon from After the Morning 1;17:18 "Moneymusk/ Spey In Spate" by Oisin McAuley from Far From the Hills of Donegal 1:20:29 "Old Black Rum" by Screeched Inn from Screeched Inn 1:23:27 "Sweeney's Eyes Set" by The Flying Toads from In Stitches 1:30:22 "Gaelic Song" by The Selkie Girls from Long Time Traveling 1:36:07 CELTIC FEEDBACK 1:38:13 "Piper on Horseback/Mullingar Lea/Molloy's Favorite" by Three Mile Stone from Three Mile Stone 1:41:26 "A Stor Mo Chroi" by Lothlorien from Single 1:45:50 "Highlands: The Lass of Killiecrankie / The Ladies of Gormand / Untitled Highland / The Teelin Highland" by Battlefield Band from Beg & Borrow 1:49:03 "The Water Is Wide" by Banna De Dha from Band of Two 1:53:36 "Squire Woods' Lamentation on the Refusal of his Halfpence" by Thomas "Doc" Grauzer from Infernal Harp Racket 1:59:28 "Wild Mountain" by Rise from Uncertain Wonders 2:05:28 "The Track for the Craic" by Socks in the Frying Pan from Socks in the Frying Pan I WANT YOUR FEEDBACK: What are you doing today while listening to the podcast? You can send a written comment along with a picture of what you're doing while listening. Email a voicemail message to celticpodcast@gmail.com Christine Weir emailed: "Hello Marc, I just want to say thanks for playing my song Samhainn, on your Thin Veil show. I've had some really nice responses to it, and sold a couple of CD's as a result! Kind regards, Christine" Chrystin Pleasants emailed: "Lucky me! Got the podcast e-mail as I am sitting in a waiting room at my car dealer’s working on my taxes. All life is portable, and thankfully, music especially so. Have loved the first two cuts, thanks so much! Not sure when they’ll be done with my vehicle, but if I don’t finish it in the next hour, then I’ll have something to listen to later in the day." John Delahunty wrote: "I for the life of me cannot remember who sings or the name of a song you played last year and it’s driving me crazy! I think it was the fall of jack o lantern or something like that but google is not helping... help me Celtic music podcast you’re my only hope" Great. Appeal to my inner geek why don't you John. Fine. There is a song called "Fall of Jack O'Lantern" by David Nigel Lloyd. You'll find it at the end of the 2015 Celtic Halloween & Samhain music special. The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast was produced by Marc Gunn, The Celtfather. To subscribe, go to iTunes or to our website where you can become a Patron of the Podcast for as little as $1 per episode. Promote Celtic culture through music at http://celticmusicpodcast.com/.

O Canada! Warren is another first for us here at the 16oz. Canvas - our first Canadian artist to join us here. It took a bit of convincing but was really great to get him out of his shell and talking about himself and his work with Liquid Riot and his company Thro' Creative. He is a hard working, honest and very appreciative individual who loves his job, his family and a good beer. Definitely connected and would have loved to have done this one in 3-D over a few cold ones. Enjoy.

H.P. Lovecraft's Birthday: Herald now the autumnal season of death, darkness, and Halloween. -The Voice before the Void “Despair” H.P. Lovecraft O'er the midnight moorlands crying, Thro' the cypress forests sighing, In the night-wind madly flying, Hellish forms with streaming … Continue reading →

On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; 河流的两岸，大麦和黑麦的农田，麦覆盖着平野，远接长天； And thro' the field the road runs by To many-tower'd Camelot; 还有一条路穿行田野间，通向古堡卡默洛特； And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. 人们在那路上来来往往，把大片盛开的睡莲凝望，盛开在小岛的四面八方，那就是小岛夏洛特。 Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever 柳树泛白光，山杨在颤抖，拂过的风儿虽说极轻柔，也吹暗河面，把河水吹皱， By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. 而河水在岛旁流啊流，终年不息流往卡默洛特。 Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott. 四面灰色的墙，四座灰色的塔，俯瞰...

Thank happy thoughts while you enjoy Irish and Celtic music from Old Blind Dogs, Crikwater, Steel Clover, Garry O Meara, Gerry O'Beirne & Rosie Shipley, Hearthfire Duo, Mithril Duo, Beer Belly, Tim Keeley, Claymore, Celtic Fusion Illusion, Shillaly Brothers, David Curley & Mick Broderick. Listen. Like. Share. Then download 34 Celtic MP3s for Free!  Subscribe to the Celtic Music Magazine. This is our free newsletter and your guide to the latest Celtic music and podcast news. Remember to support the artists who support this podcast: buy their CDs, download their MP3s, see their shows, and drop them an email to let them know you heard them on the Irish and Celtic Music Podcast. Today's show is brought to you by Celtic Invasion Vacations Every year, I take Celtic music fans on an adventure of a lifetime. This is not your typical wham-bam-thank you m'aam tour. We travel in small groups. We explore the Celtic history of different regions. We don't need to see everything, because this is a vacation. Instead, our invasion brings out the relaxation and magic of our adventure. In 2018, you can join me on a Celtic Invasion of the Isle of Skye in Scotland. Sign up to the mailing list at celticinvasion.com.   Notes: * Helping you celebrate Celtic culture through music. My name is Marc Gunn. I am a musician and podcaster. You can share this show and find more episodes at celticmusicpodcast.com. And you can support this show on Patreon. * CELTIC PODCAST NEWS The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast comes out each and every week due to the generosity of people like you. Your kind pledge of as little as $1 per episode pays for the production of this podcast, as well as my time in producing the show. You get shows before regular listeners and my deepest thanks. When we hit a milestone, you get a 2-hour special. We are just $31 away from the next 2-hour special. I want to thank to our newest patrons: Michelle Knee, Andrew Volz, and a special thanks to our newest Celtic Superstar, Nancie. Thank you all so much for your generosity! Become a patron today! * I WANT YOUR FEEDBACK: What are you doing today while listening to the podcast? You can send a written comment along with a picture of what you're doing while listening. Email a voicemail message to celticpodcast@gmail.com Jeff Suggs emailed: "I use the podcast for long drives to customers, walking the dog, or yard work. Keep up the good work!" Heidi L Kleinman Murphy emailed on Facebook: "I'm editing a zombie book to my favorite hilarious Celtic tunes. Thanks, Marc, for the fun." Here's a voicemail Al from Phillips, Maine and Steve Romeo in Florida.   This Week in Celtic Music 0:32 "Nevertheless" by Old Blind Dogs from A Room With A View 6:41 "Drowsy Maggie/Maid Behind the Bar/Coughlin's First" by Crikwater from Crikwater 11:48 "The Silver Tassie" by Steel Clover from To Scotland with Love 17:20 "Jackie Coleman's/The Square at Crossmaglen" by Garry O Meara from Pickin' Time 20:58 "1874" by Gerry O'Beirne & Rosie Shipley from Yesterday I Saw the Earth Beautiful 24:55 CELTIC PODCAST NEWS 25:20 "Lannigan's Ball" by Hearthfire Duo from A Long Way From Home 29:40 "Outlander Set: Loch Lomond / Comin' Thro' the Rye / Clean Pease Strae / The High Road to Linton (feat. Andy Kruspe)" by Mithril Duo from Bottom of the Punch Bowl 35:36 "Whiskey You're the Devil" by Beer Belly from King of Bellies 38:42 CELTIC FEEDBACK 40:10 "Albert McGinnis" by Tim Keeley from New Frontiers 43:40 "Grawel Walk" by Claymore from Claymore 46:23 "Francie" by Celtic Fusion Illusion from Walk the Tweed 51:18 "Happy Thoughts" by Shillaly Brothers from Shillaly Brothers 55:38 "This Train's Not Bound for Glory" by David Curley & Mick Broderick from A Brand New Day VOTE IN THE CELTIC TOP 20. It's easier than ever to do. Just list the show number, and the name of one or two bands. That's it. You can vote once for each episode help me create next year's Best Celtic music of 2017 episode. The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast was produced by Marc Gunn, The Celtfather. To subscribe, go to iTunes or to our website where you can become a Patron of the Podcast for as little as $1 per episode. Promote Celtic culture through music at celticmusicpodcast.com.

Greg Smith is the co-founder and CEO of Thinkific an SaaS eCommerce business which sells a software platform for creating and selling online courses. Thinkific was founded just over 4 years ago, now they have around 20,000 websites using the system, and are achieving 40% month on month growth. We discuss how he's grown the company, how they focus on the customer and customer service. Plus we dive into some great Instagram tips and tricks, as well as looking into how retailers are using the Thinkific platform to grow their business. This podcast uses the following third-party services for analysis: Chartable - https://chartable.com/privacy

In this episode Percy wants to die, no, really, he wants to die! He is sick, probably delirious with pneumonia, on a troop ship from Gallipoli and gets put off at Malta into a hospital for infectious cases. Find out what he gets up to, who he meets and how he gets on. You'll love Sister Suzie!

THE STORY  (50:00 minutes)   A dispute over honour leads to a leadership shift (and a profound tragedy) in the Greek army.  Meanwhile, Paris Prince of Troy discovers that “nemesis” is a word of particularly Greek origin. THE COMMENTARY    THE OENONE STORY:  A PATRIARCHAL MARRIAGE PRIMER   (20 minutes; begins at 50:00)   I devote this post-story commentary to an exploration of the “Paris and Oenone” story.  I begin by reviewing the basic details of the story that seems to be agreed upon by all tellers down through the ages.  In short:  Paris is hit by Philoctetes’ poison arrow.  The Trojan priests discover that only the healing arts of a particular forest nymph can save Paris from painful and certain death.  Paris realizes that the nymph in question is Oenone, his former wife, who he abandoned some twelve or so years ago, having been promised (by Aphrodite) a much hotter and sexually obliging woman (Menelaus of Sparta’s wife Helen). At the time, Oenone had uttered some appropriately “fore shadowy” words: “Someday you will need me Paris…”.  Paris, now dying of aforementioned arrow wound, asks Oenone (either via an embassy acting on his behalf, or, in some accounts, in person) to save him and Oenone says something to the effect of:  “No.  Let your current wife save you.”  And Paris dies. I briefly review the minor variations in this basic plot line, including: embassy begs for Paris’ life; Paris goes to Mt. Ida and begs for his own life; Helen – can you believe it! – begs for Paris’ life; Oenone travels to Troy, where the full royal family begs for Paris’ life.  But I note that in all cases, Oeneon says “No”. Then I outline the scene that follows, and that appears in ALL versions of the story.  A scene, I note, that I find both implausible and deeply troubling.  In all accounts of the Oenone story, following her initial rejection of Paris’ plea for help, Oenone relents, and goes searching for Paris, in order to save his life.  And when she arrives too late, and finds Paris dead, Oenone, in all accounts, then takes her own life.  Oenone commits suicide: sometimes by throwing herself off of Troy’s walls, sometimes by hanging herself, but in most accounts by throwing herself into Paris’ arms as his dead body burns on the funeral pyre. I spend the balance of the post story commentary exploring why storytellers through the ages – from Classical Greek times up through Victorian England – seem to adore the image of Oenone throwing her live body into her faithless ex-husband’s dead arms.  And though I acknowledge that I cannot help but see the Oenone story through my own culture’s values lens, I then go on to make my case.  I argue that the Oenone suicide appears to be a patriarchal society’s “polemic” or “primer” on the appropriate behaviour of wives, even the wives of faithless (and profoundly inadequate) husbands.  Instead of a more plausible plot line – that Oenone, an immortal, ageless forest nymph, would have “gotten over” the loss of her faithless/clueless husband twelve years after he had walked out on her – we are expected to believe that Oenone, on seeing her ex-husband dead, would have responded, to quote Tennyson as follows: “ and all at once The morning light of happy marriage broke Thro’ all the clouded years of widowhood, And muffling up her comely head, and crying ‘Husband!’ she leapt upon the funeral pile, And mixt herself with him and past in fire.”   THE DEATH OF OENONE, 1829 I conclude the post-story commentary by reviewing the cultural values of Bronze Age and Classical Greek society concerning the appropriate roles and accepted behaviours of both married men and married women. And I highlight the profoundly double standard.  Finally I argue that Oenone, fulfilling her role in a “patriarchal primer story”, is required to suicide after she allows her husband Paris to die, because that is the only way she can atone for the marital sin that she has committed,

Fabrics and threads and yarn, OH MY!Fabrics and threads and yarn, OH MY!

Alfred, Lord Tennyson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The Lady of Shalott by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809 – 1892) 1842 edition Part I. On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road runs by To many-tower'd Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott. By the margin, willow-veil'd Slide the heavy barges trail'd By slow horses; and unhail'd The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd Skimming down to Camelot: But who hath seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement seen her stand? Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott? Only reapers, reaping early In among the bearded barley, Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly, Down to tower'd Camelot: And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy Lady of Shalott." Part II. There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott. And moving thro' a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot: There the river eddy whirls, And there the surly village-churls, And the red cloaks of market girls, Pass onward from Shalott. Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling pad, Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad, Goes by to tower'd Camelot; And sometimes thro' the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two: She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often thro' the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed; "I am half-sick of shadows," said The Lady of Shalott. Part III. A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley-sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot. A redcross knight for ever kneel'd To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote Shalott. The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, Like to some branch of stars we see Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle-bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot: And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armour rung, Beside remote Shalott. All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather Burn'd like one burning flame together, As he rode down to Camelot. As often thro' the purple night, Below the starry clusters bright, Some bearded meteor, trailing light, Moves over still Shalott. His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal-black curls as on he rode, As he rode down to Camelot. From the bank and from the river He flash'd into the crystal mirror, "Tirra lirra," by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces thro' the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott. Part IV. In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale-yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining, Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd Camelot; Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat, And round about the prow she wrote The Lady of Shalott. And down the river's dim expanse-- Like some bold seër in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance-- With a glassy countenance Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott. Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right-- The leaves upon her falling light-- Thro' the noises of the night She floated down to Camelot: And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song, The Lady of Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darken'd wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot; For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott. Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, A corse between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott. Who is this? and what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they cross'd themselves for fear, All the knights at Camelot: But Lancelot mused a little space; He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott." Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud, 2008.

A new podcast series conecting the musical dots from house to dubstep to drum n bass and everything else that is deep. This will be a regular podcast series that will put out top quality music free for your listening pleasure! Deepcast Episode 002: A Journey Through Dubstep And Future Garage Track Listing Intro: Kode 9 Ft Space Ape - Kingston Vocal Shackleton - Blood On My Hands Likwid Live guest Session: V.I.V.E.K - Big Bang Ben Verse - Dark Star Benga & Coki - Night Boy Better Know - Too Many Man (Ashburner Remix) Breakage - Hard (Caspa & The Others Remix) J:Kenzo - The Roteks Pinch - Swish Matt U - Hidden SP:MC & LX One - Judgement Lx One - Give it up Icicle - Xylophobia Wen - Nocturnal (Dubplate) Arktrix - They're Here (Dubplate) LX One - You! Joker & Terror Danjah - Gully Goon Estate Sukh Knight - Born Invincible (Spooky's Born again refix) Royal T - Orangeade P-Money - Left the room (Skream Remix) Emalkay - Massive Dr Bloodnugget - Kidnap Dom Farrall Main Session: Joy Orbison - Hyph Mingo Kode 9 - Den of Drumz Ramadanman - Work Dat Cooly G - Phat Si Martinez Brothers - The Causway (Burning Up Vocal) George Fitzgerals - Painted Jezbel 4th Measure Men - For You (Maya Jane Coles Remix) Joy Orbison - Wet Look Psyche (Carl Craig) - From Beyond Von D - Coquine Hypno - Elevate Martyn & 2562 - Vancouver (2562's Puur Natuur Mix) 1984 - Arabesque (Misery Pete Remix) Totaly Enormous Extinct Dinosaur - How Far 2562 - Dinosaur Lukich Live Guest Session: The MIDI Fiddler - Fuck You Over Caribou - Sun (Midland Re-edit) Julio Bashmore - Battle For Middle You Koreless - MTI Koreless - Up Down Up Down Commix - How you gonna feel (Pedestrian Remix) Duncan Powell - Moonlight Pepe Bradoc - Deep Burnt Roy Davis Jr. - Gabriel 10) Fatima Ft. Floating Points - Red Light. Facebook https://www.facebook.com/pages/Deepcast-UK/202899523092077

Lord Tennyson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The Lady of Shalott by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809 – 1892) 1842 edition Part I. On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road runs by To many-tower'd Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott. By the margin, willow-veil'd Slide the heavy barges trail'd By slow horses; and unhail'd The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd Skimming down to Camelot: But who hath seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement seen her stand? Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott? Only reapers, reaping early In among the bearded barley, Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly, Down to tower'd Camelot: And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy Lady of Shalott." Part II. There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott. And moving thro' a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot: There the river eddy whirls, And there the surly village-churls, And the red cloaks of market girls, Pass onward from Shalott. Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling pad, Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad, Goes by to tower'd Camelot; And sometimes thro' the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two: She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often thro' the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed; "I am half-sick of shadows," said The Lady of Shalott. Part III. A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley-sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot. A redcross knight for ever kneel'd To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote Shalott. The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, Like to some branch of stars we see Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle-bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot: And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armour rung, Beside remote Shalott. All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather Burn'd like one burning flame together, As he rode down to Camelot. As often thro' the purple night, Below the starry clusters bright, Some bearded meteor, trailing light, Moves over still Shalott. His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal-black curls as on he rode, As he rode down to Camelot. From the bank and from the river He flash'd into the crystal mirror, "Tirra lirra," by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces thro' the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott. Part IV. In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale-yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining, Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd Camelot; Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat, And round about the prow she wrote The Lady of Shalott. And down the river's dim expanse-- Like some bold seër in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance-- With a glassy countenance Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott. Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right-- The leaves upon her falling light-- Thro' the noises of the night She floated down to Camelot: And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song, The Lady of Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darken'd wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot; For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott. Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, A corse between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott. Who is this? and what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they cross'd themselves for fear, All the knights at Camelot: But Lancelot mused a little space; He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott." First aired: 2 August 2008 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

A Tennyson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------------- The Lotos-Eaters by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809 – 1892) “Courage!” he said, and pointed toward the land, “This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon.” In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream. Full-faced above the valley stood the moon; And, like a downward smoke, the slender stream Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem. A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke, Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go; And some thro’ wavering lights and shadows broke, Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below. They saw the gleaming river seaward flow From the inner land; far off, three mountain-tops, Three silent pinnacles of aged snow, Stood sunset-flush’d; and, dew’d with showery drops, Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse. The charmed sunset linger’d low adown In the red West; thro’ mountain clefts the dale Was seen far inland, and the yellow down Border’d with palm, and many a winding vale And meadow, set with slender galingale; A land where all things always seem’d the same! And round about the keel with faces pale, Dark faces pale against that rosy flame, The mild-eyed melancholy Lotos-eaters came. Branches they bore of that enchanted stem, Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave To each, but whoso did receive of them And taste, to him the gushing of the wave Far far away did seem to mourn and rave On alien shores; and if his fellow spake, His voice was thin, as voices from the grave; And deep-asleep he seem’d, yet all awake, And music in his ears his beating heart did make. They sat them down upon the yellow sand, Between the sun and moon upon the shore; And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland, Of child, and wife, and slave; but evermore Most weary seem’d the sea, weary the oar, Weary the wandering fields of barren foam. Then some one said, “We will return no more;” And all at once they sang, “Our island home Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.” CHORIC SONG I There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir’d eyelids upon tir’d eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro’ the moss the ivies creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep. II Why are we weigh’d upon with heaviness, And utterly consumed with sharp distress, While all things else have rest from weariness? All things have rest: why should we toil alone, We only toil, who are the first of things, And make perpetual moan, Still from one sorrow to another thrown; Nor ever fold our wings, And cease from wanderings, Nor steep our brows in slumber’s holy balm; Nor harken what the inner spirit sings, “There is no joy but calm!”— Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things? III Lo! in the middle of the wood, The folded leaf is woo’d from out the bud With winds upon the branch, and there Grows green and broad, and takes no care, Sun-steep’d at noon, and in the moon Nightly dew-fed; and turning yellow Falls, and floats adown the air. Lo! sweeten’d with the summer light, The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow, Drops in a silent autumn night. All its allotted length of days The flower ripens in its place, Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil, Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil. IV Hateful is the dark-blue sky, Vaulted o’er the dark-blue sea. Death is the end of life; ah, why Should life all labor be? Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, And in a little while our lips are dumb. Let us alone. What is it that will last? All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past. Let us alone. What pleasure can we have To war with evil? Is there any peace In ever climbing up the climbing wave? All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence—ripen, fall, and cease: Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease. V How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, With half-shut eyes ever to seem Falling asleep in a half-dream! To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; To hear each other’s whisper’d speech; Eating the Lotos day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy; To muse and brood and live again in memory, With those old faces of our infancy Heap’d over with a mound of grass, Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass! VI Dear is the memory of our wedded lives, And dear the last embraces of our wives And their warm tears; but all hath suffer’d change; For surely now our household hearths are cold, Our sons inherit us, our looks are strange, And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy. Or else the island princes over-bold Have eat our substance, and the minstrel sings Before them of the ten years’ war in Troy, And our great deeds, as half-forgotten things. Is there confusion in the little isle? Let what is broken so remain. The Gods are hard to reconcile; ’Tis hard to settle order once again. There is confusion worse than death, Trouble on trouble, pain on pain, Long labor unto aged breath, Sore task to hearts worn out by many wars And eyes grown dim with gazing on the pilot-stars. VII But, propped on beds of amaranth and moly, How sweet—while warm airs lull us, blowing lowly— With half-dropped eyelids still, Beneath a heaven dark and holy, To watch the long bright river drawing slowly His waters from the purple hill— To hear the dewy echoes calling From cave to cave thro’ the thick-twined vine— To watch the emerald-color’d water falling Thro’ many a woven acanthus-wreath divine! Only to hear and see the far-off sparkling brine, Only to hear were sweet, stretch’d out beneath the pine. VIII The Lotos blooms below the barren peak, The Lotos blows by every winding creek; All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone; Thro’ every hollow cave and alley lone Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown. We have had enough of action, and of motion we, Roll’d to starboard, roll’d to larboard, when the surge was seething free, Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea. Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts are hurl’d Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curl’d Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world; Where they smile in secret, looking over wasted lands, Blight and famine, plague and earthquake, roaring deeps and fiery sands, Clanging fights, and flaming towns, and sinking ships, and praying hands. But they smile, they find a music centred in a doleful song Steaming up, a lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong, Like a tale of little meaning tho’ the words are strong; Chanted from an ill-used race of men that cleave the soil, Sow the seed, and reap the harvest with enduring toil, Storing yearly little dues of wheat, and wine and oil; Till they perish and they suffer—some, ’tis whisper’d—down in hell Suffer endless anguish, others in Elysian valleys dwell, Resting weary limbs at last on beds of asphodel. Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore Than labor in the deep mid-ocean, wind and wave and oar; O, rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more. First aired: 6 December 2007 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

R Bridges read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------------- My Delight and Thy Delight by Robert Bridges (1844 – 1930) My delight and thy delight Walking, like two angels white, In the gardens of the night: My desire and thy desire Twining to a tongue of fire, Leaping live, and laughing higher: Thro' the everlasting strife In the mystery of life. Love, from whom the world begun, Hath the secret of the sun. Love can tell, and love alone, Whence the million stars were strewn, Why each atom knows its own, How, in spite of woe and deat, Gay is life, and sweet is breath: This he taught us, this we knew, Happy in his science true, Hand in hand as we stood 'Neath the shadows of the wood, Heart to heart as we lay In the dawning of the day. First aired: 2 December 2007 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

Lord Tennyson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------- The Lady of Shalott by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809 – 1892) 1842 edition Part I. On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road runs by To many-tower'd Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott. Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott. By the margin, willow-veil'd Slide the heavy barges trail'd By slow horses; and unhail'd The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd Skimming down to Camelot: But who hath seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement seen her stand? Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott? Only reapers, reaping early In among the bearded barley, Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly, Down to tower'd Camelot: And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy Lady of Shalott." Part II. There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott. And moving thro' a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot: There the river eddy whirls, And there the surly village-churls, And the red cloaks of market girls, Pass onward from Shalott. Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling pad, Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad, Goes by to tower'd Camelot; And sometimes thro' the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two: She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott. But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often thro' the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed; "I am half-sick of shadows," said The Lady of Shalott. Part III. A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley-sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot. A redcross knight for ever kneel'd To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote Shalott. The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, Like to some branch of stars we see Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle-bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot: And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armour rung, Beside remote Shalott. All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather Burn'd like one burning flame together, As he rode down to Camelot. As often thro' the purple night, Below the starry clusters bright, Some bearded meteor, trailing light, Moves over still Shalott. His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal-black curls as on he rode, As he rode down to Camelot. From the bank and from the river He flash'd into the crystal mirror, "Tirra lirra," by the river Sang Sir Lancelot. She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces thro' the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott. Part IV. In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale-yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining, Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd Camelot; Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat, And round about the prow she wrote The Lady of Shalott. And down the river's dim expanse-- Like some bold seër in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance-- With a glassy countenance Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott. Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right-- The leaves upon her falling light-- Thro' the noises of the night She floated down to Camelot: And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song, The Lady of Shalott. Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darken'd wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot; For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott. Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, A corse between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott. Who is this? and what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they cross'd themselves for fear, All the knights at Camelot: But Lancelot mused a little space; He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott." First aired: 2 August 2008 For hundreds more poetry readings, visit the Classic Poetry Aloud index. Reading © Classic Poetry Aloud 2008

Tennyson read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------------- The Lotos-Eaters by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809 – 1892) “Courage!” he said, and pointed toward the land, “This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon.” In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream. Full-faced above the valley stood the moon; And, like a downward smoke, the slender stream Along the cliff to fall and pause and fall did seem. A land of streams! some, like a downward smoke, Slow-dropping veils of thinnest lawn, did go; And some thro’ wavering lights and shadows broke, Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below. They saw the gleaming river seaward flow From the inner land; far off, three mountain-tops, Three silent pinnacles of aged snow, Stood sunset-flush’d; and, dew’d with showery drops, Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse. The charmed sunset linger’d low adown In the red West; thro’ mountain clefts the dale Was seen far inland, and the yellow down Border’d with palm, and many a winding vale And meadow, set with slender galingale; A land where all things always seem’d the same! And round about the keel with faces pale, Dark faces pale against that rosy flame, The mild-eyed melancholy Lotos-eaters came. Branches they bore of that enchanted stem, Laden with flower and fruit, whereof they gave To each, but whoso did receive of them And taste, to him the gushing of the wave Far far away did seem to mourn and rave On alien shores; and if his fellow spake, His voice was thin, as voices from the grave; And deep-asleep he seem’d, yet all awake, And music in his ears his beating heart did make. They sat them down upon the yellow sand, Between the sun and moon upon the shore; And sweet it was to dream of Fatherland, Of child, and wife, and slave; but evermore Most weary seem’d the sea, weary the oar, Weary the wandering fields of barren foam. Then some one said, “We will return no more;” And all at once they sang, “Our island home Is far beyond the wave; we will no longer roam.” CHORIC SONG I There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass, Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, Than tir’d eyelids upon tir’d eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. Here are cool mosses deep, And thro’ the moss the ivies creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep. II Why are we weigh’d upon with heaviness, And utterly consumed with sharp distress, While all things else have rest from weariness? All things have rest: why should we toil alone, We only toil, who are the first of things, And make perpetual moan, Still from one sorrow to another thrown; Nor ever fold our wings, And cease from wanderings, Nor steep our brows in slumber’s holy balm; Nor harken what the inner spirit sings, “There is no joy but calm!”— Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things? III Lo! in the middle of the wood, The folded leaf is woo’d from out the bud With winds upon the branch, and there Grows green and broad, and takes no care, Sun-steep’d at noon, and in the moon Nightly dew-fed; and turning yellow Falls, and floats adown the air. Lo! sweeten’d with the summer light, The full-juiced apple, waxing over-mellow, Drops in a silent autumn night. All its allotted length of days The flower ripens in its place, Ripens and fades, and falls, and hath no toil, Fast-rooted in the fruitful soil. IV Hateful is the dark-blue sky, Vaulted o’er the dark-blue sea. Death is the end of life; ah, why Should life all labor be? Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast, And in a little while our lips are dumb. Let us alone. What is it that will last? All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past. Let us alone. What pleasure can we have To war with evil? Is there any peace In ever climbing up the climbing wave? All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave In silence—ripen, fall, and cease: Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease. V How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, With half-shut eyes ever to seem Falling asleep in a half-dream! To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height; To hear each other’s whisper’d speech; Eating the Lotos day by day, To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, And tender curving lines of creamy spray; To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild-minded melancholy; To muse and brood and live again in memory, With those old faces of our infancy Heap’d over with a mound of grass, Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass! VI Dear is the memory of our wedded lives, And dear the last embraces of our wives And their warm tears; but all hath suffer’d change; For surely now our household hearths are cold, Our sons inherit us, our looks are strange, And we should come like ghosts to trouble joy. Or else the island princes over-bold Have eat our substance, and the minstrel sings Before them of the ten years’ war in Troy, And our great deeds, as half-forgotten things. Is there confusion in the little isle? Let what is broken so remain. The Gods are hard to reconcile; ’Tis hard to settle order once again. There is confusion worse than death, Trouble on trouble, pain on pain, Long labor unto aged breath, Sore task to hearts worn out by many wars And eyes grown dim with gazing on the pilot-stars. VII But, propped on beds of amaranth and moly, How sweet—while warm airs lull us, blowing lowly— With half-dropped eyelids still, Beneath a heaven dark and holy, To watch the long bright river drawing slowly His waters from the purple hill— To hear the dewy echoes calling From cave to cave thro’ the thick-twined vine— To watch the emerald-color’d water falling Thro’ many a woven acanthus-wreath divine! Only to hear and see the far-off sparkling brine, Only to hear were sweet, stretch’d out beneath the pine. VIII The Lotos blooms below the barren peak, The Lotos blows by every winding creek; All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone; Thro’ every hollow cave and alley lone Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown. We have had enough of action, and of motion we, Roll’d to starboard, roll’d to larboard, when the surge was seething free, Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea. Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind, In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind. For they lie beside their nectar, and the bolts are hurl’d Far below them in the valleys, and the clouds are lightly curl’d Round their golden houses, girdled with the gleaming world; Where they smile in secret, looking over wasted lands, Blight and famine, plague and earthquake, roaring deeps and fiery sands, Clanging fights, and flaming towns, and sinking ships, and praying hands. But they smile, they find a music centred in a doleful song Steaming up, a lamentation and an ancient tale of wrong, Like a tale of little meaning tho’ the words are strong; Chanted from an ill-used race of men that cleave the soil, Sow the seed, and reap the harvest with enduring toil, Storing yearly little dues of wheat, and wine and oil; Till they perish and they suffer—some, ’tis whisper’d—down in hell Suffer endless anguish, others in Elysian valleys dwell, Resting weary limbs at last on beds of asphodel. Surely, surely, slumber is more sweet than toil, the shore Than labor in the deep mid-ocean, wind and wave and oar; O, rest ye, brother mariners, we will not wander more.

Bridges read by Classic Poetry Aloud: http://www.classicpoetryaloud.com/ Giving voice to the poetry of the past. --------------------------------------------------- My Delight and Thy Delight by Robert Bridges (1844 – 1930) My delight and thy delight Walking, like two angels white, In the gardens of the night: My desire and thy desire Twining to a tongue of fire, Leaping live, and laughing higher: Thro' the everlasting strife In the mystery of life. Love, from whom the world begun, Hath the secret of the sun. Love can tell, and love alone, Whence the million stars were strewn, Why each atom knows its own, How, in spite of woe and death, Gay is life, and sweet is breath: This he taught us, this we knew, Happy in his science true, Hand in hand as we stood 'Neath the shadows of the wood, Heart to heart as we lay In the dawning of the day.

We visit Bunratty Castle and Folk Park where we give our tips to avoid the crowds, suggest some interesting sites nearby, mix up a potcheen cocktail and hear Liam’s haunting version fo She Moved Thro’ the Fair.