Written by
Anne Sexton |
Oh sharp diamond, my mother!
I could not count the cost
of all your faces, your moods--
that present that I lost.
Sweet girl, my deathbed,
my jewel-fingered lady,
your portrait flickered all night
by the bulbs of the tree.
Your face as calm as the moon
over a mannered sea,
presided at the family reunion,
the twelve grandchildren
you used to wear on your wrist,
a three-months-old baby,
a fat check you never wrote,
the red-haired toddler who danced the twist,
your aging daughters, each one a wife,
each one talking to the family cook,
each one avoiding your portrait,
each one aping your life.
Later, after the party,
after the house went to bed,
I sat up drinking the Christmas brandy,
watching your picture,
letting the tree move in and out of focus.
The bulbs vibrated.
They were a halo over your forehead.
Then they were a beehive,
blue, yellow, green, red;
each with its own juice, each hot and alive
stinging your face. But you did not move.
I continued to watch, forcing myself,
waiting, inexhaustible, thirty-five.
I wanted your eyes, like the shadows
of two small birds, to change.
But they did not age.
The smile that gathered me in, all wit,
all charm, was invincible.
Hour after hour I looked at your face
but I could not pull the roots out of it.
Then I watched how the sun hit your red sweater, your withered neck,
your badly painted flesh-pink skin.
You who led me by the nose, I saw you as you were.
Then I thought of your body
as one thinks of murder--
Then I said Mary--
Mary, Mary, forgive me
and then I touched a present for the child,
the last I bred before your death;
and then I touched my breast
and then I touched the floor
and then my breast again as if,
somehow, it were one of yours.
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Written by
Paul Muldoon |
Even as we speak, there's a smoker's cough
from behind the whitethorn hedge: we stop dead in our tracks;
a distant tingle of water into a trough.
In the past half-hour—since a cattle truck
all but sent us shuffling off this mortal coil—
we've consoled ourselves with the dregs
of a bottle of Redbreast. Had Hawthorne been a Gael,
I insist, the scarlet A on Hester Prynne
would have stood for "Alcohol."
This must be the same truck whose taillights burn
so dimly, as if caked with dirt,
three or four hundred yards along the boreen
(a diminutive form of the Gaelic bóthar, "a road,"
from bó, "a cow," and thar
meaning, in this case, something like "athwart,"
"boreen" has entered English "through the air"
despite the protestations of the O.E.D.):
why, though, should one taillight flash and flare
then flicker-fade
to an afterimage of tourmaline
set in a dark part-jet, part-jasper or -jade?
That smoker's cough again: it triggers off from drumlin
to drumlin an emphysemantiphon
of cows. They hoist themselves onto their trampoline
and steady themselves and straight away divine
water in some far-flung spot
to which they then gravely incline. This is no Devon
cow-coterie, by the way, whey-faced, with Spode
hooves and horns: nor are they the metaphysicattle of Japan
that have merely to anticipate
scoring a bull's-eye and, lo, it happens;
these are earth-flesh, earth-blood, salt of the earth,
whose talismans are their own jawbones
buried under threshold and hearth.
For though they trace themselves to the kith and kine
that presided over the birth
of Christ (so carry their calves a full nine
months and boast liquorice
cachous on their tongues), they belong more to the line
that's tramped these cwms and corries
since Cuchulainn tramped Aoife.
Again the flash. Again the fade. However I might allegorize
some oscaraboscarabinary bevy
of cattle there's no getting round this cattle truck,
one light on the blink, laden with what? Microwaves? Hi-fis?
Oscaraboscarabinary: a twin, entwined, a tree, a Tuareg;
a double dung-beetle; a plain
and simple hi-firing party; an off-the-back-of-a-lorry drogue?
Enough of Colette and Céline, Céline and Paul Celan:
enough of whether Nabokov
taught at Wellesley or Wesleyan.
Now let us talk of slaughter and the slain,
the helicopter gunship, the mighty Kalashnikov:
let's rest for a while in a place where a cow has lain.
|
Written by
Robert Burns |
ADIEU! a heart-warm fond adieu;
Dear brothers of the mystic tie!
Ye favourèd, enlighten’d few,
Companions of my social joy;
Tho’ I to foreign lands must hie,
Pursuing Fortune’s slidd’ry ba’;
With melting heart, and brimful eye,
I’ll mind you still, tho’ far awa.
Oft have I met your social band,
And spent the cheerful, festive night;
Oft, honour’d with supreme command,
Presided o’er the sons of light:
And by that hieroglyphic bright,
Which none but Craftsmen ever saw
Strong Mem’ry on my heart shall write
Those happy scenes, when far awa.
May Freedom, Harmony, and Love,
Unite you in the grand Design,
Beneath th’ Omniscient Eye above,
The glorious Architect Divine,
That you may keep th’ unerring line,
Still rising by the plummet’s law,
Till Order bright completely shine,
Shall be my pray’r when far awa.
And you, farewell! whose merits claim
Justly that highest badge to wear:
Heav’n bless your honour’d noble name,
To Masonry and Scotia dear!
A last request permit me here,—
When yearly ye assemble a’,
One round, I ask it with a tear,
To him, the Bard that’s far awa.
|
Written by
William Topaz McGonagall |
Good people of Dundee, your voices raise,
And to Miss Baxter give great praise;
Rejoice and sing and dance with glee,
Because she has founded a College in Bonnie Dundee.
Therefore loudly in her praise sing,
And make Dundee with your voices ring,
And give honour to whom honour is due,
Because ladies like her are very few.
'Twas on the 5th day of October, in the year of 1883,
That the University College was opened in Dundee,
And the opening proceedings were conducted in the College Hall,
In the presence of ladies and gentlemen both great and small.
Worthy Provost Moncur presided over the meeting,
And received very great greeting;
And Professor Stuart made an eloquent speech there,
And also Lord Dalhousie, I do declare.
Also, the Right Hon W. E. Baxter was there on behalf of his aunt,
And acknowledged her beautiful portrait without any rant,
And said that she requested him to hand it over to the College,
As an incentive to others to teach the ignorant masses knowledge,
Success to Miss Baxter, and praise to the late Doctor Baxter, John Boyd,
For I think the Dundonians ought to feel overjoyed
For their munificent gifts to the town of Dundee,
Which will cause their names to be handed down to posterity.
The College is most handsome and magnificent to be seen,
And Dundee can now almost cope with Edinburgh or Aberdeen,
For the ladies of Dundee can now learn useful knowledge
By going to their own beautiful College.
I hope the ladies and gentlemen of Dundee will try and learn knowledge
At home in Dundee in their nice little College,
Because knowledge is sweeter than honey or jam,
Therefore let them try and gain knowledge as quick as they can.
It certainly is a great boon and an honour to Dundee
To have a College in our midst, which is most charming to see,
All through Miss Baxter and the late Dr Baxter, John Boyd,
Which I hope by the people of Dundee will long be enjoyed
Now since Miss Baxter has lived to see it erected,
I hope by the students she will long be respected
For establishing a College in Bonnie Dundee,
Where learning can be got of a very high degree.
"My son, get knowledge," so said the sage,
For it will benefit you in your old age,
And help you through this busy world to pass,
For remember a man without knowledge is just like an ass.
I wish the Professors and teachers every success,
Hoping the Lord will all their labours bless;
And I hope the students will always be obedient to their teachers
And that many of them may leam to be orators and preachers.
I hope Miss Baxter will prosper for many a long day
For the money that she has given away,
May God shower his blessings on her wise head,
And may all good angels guard her while living and hereafter when dead.
|
Written by
William Topaz McGonagall |
Ye Sons of Mars, it gives me great content
To think there has been erected a handsome monument
In memory of the Black Watch, which is magnificent to see,
Where they first were embodied at Aberfeldy.
And as a Highland regiment they are worthy of what has been done for them,
Because a more courageous regiment we cannot find of men
Who have bravely fought and bled in defence of their country,
Especially in the Ruusian War and Soudan War they made their enemies flee.
The monument I hope will stand secure for many a long day,
And may the people of Aberfeldy always feel gay;
As they gaze upon the beautiful Black Watch monument,
I hope they will think of the brave soldiers and feel content.
'Twas in the year of 1887, and on Saturday the 12th of November,
Which the people of Aberfeldy and elsewhere will remember,
Who came all the way from Edinburgh, Glasgow, Perth and Dundee,
Besides the Pitlochry Volunteers headed the procession right manfully.
And the Perthshire Rifies joined the procession with their pipe band,
Then followed a detachment of the 42nd Righlanders so grand,
Under the command of Lieutenant McCleod,
Whose duty if was to represent the regiment of which he felt proud.
The pipe band of the Glasgow Highlanders also were there,
And Taymouth Brass Band, which discoursed sweet music I do declare;
Also military officers and the magistrates of Aberfeldy,
While in the rear came the members of Committee.
There were also Freemasons, Foresters, all in a row,
And wearing their distinctive regalias, which made a great show;
And the processionists were formed into three sides of a square
Around the monument, while the music of the bands did rend the air.
The noble Marquis of Breadalbane arrived on the ground at 1.30,
Escorted by a guard of honour and his pipe band;
Then the bands struck up, and the pipes were set a bumming,
And all with one accord played up the "Campbell's are Coming."
Then his Lordship ascended a platform on the north side of the monument,
And the bands played cheerfully till their breath was almost spent;
Then his Lordship received three ringing cheers from the people there,
Then he requested the Rev. John McLean to open the proceedings with prayer.
And after the prayer, Major Menzies stepped forward
And said, "Ladies and gentlemen, for the Black Watch I have great regard;
And the duty I have to perform gives me great content,
And that is to ask the noble Marquis to unveil this monument."
Then he handed the noble Marquis a Lochaber axe to unveil the Monument,
And the Marquis said, "Sir, to your request I most willingly consent."
Then he unveiled the monument in memory of the gallant Forty-twa,
While the bands played up the "Highland Laddie" as loud as they could blaw.
And when the bands ceased playing the noble Marquis said,
"This monument I declare is very elegantly made,
And its bold style is quite in keeping with the country I find,
And the Committee were fortunate in obtaining so able a designer as Mr. Rhind."
Then, turning to the Chief Magistrate of Aberfeldy,
He said, "Sir, I have been requested by the Committee
To give you the deed conveying the monument to your care,
With the feu-charter of the ground, therefore, sir, I'd have you beware."
Then the Chief Magistrate Forbes to Lord Breadalbane said,
"My noble Lord, I accept the charge, and you needn't be afraid.
Really it gives me much pleasure in accepting as I now do from thee
This Memorial, along with the deeds, on behalf of Aberfeldy."
Then Major Menzies proposed three cheers for the burgh of Aberfeldy,
And three cheers were given right heartily.
Then the Taymouth Band played "God Save the 8ueen,"
Then the processionists marched to the New Public School, happy and serene.
Then there was a banquet held in the school,
At which three hundred sat down and ate till they were full;
And Lord Breadalbane presided, and had on his right,
Magistrates, Colonels, end Provosfs, a most beautiful sight.
And the toast of "The Queen," "Prince and Princess of Wales," were given,
Wishing them prosperity while they are living;
Then the noble Chairman proposed "The Army, Navy and Volunteers,"
Which was loudly responded to with three loud cheers.
Then Colonel Smith, of the Highland Volunteers, from Bonnie Dundee
Replied for the Volunteers right manfully.
Then the noble Chairman said, "The toast I have now to propose
Is long life and prosperity to the Royal Highlanders in spite of their foes."
Then the toast was drnnk with Highland honours and hearts
While Pipe-Major McDougall played "The 42nd March at Waterloo."
So ended the proceedings in honour of the Black Watch, the bravest of men,
And the company with one accord sung the National Anthem.
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