Recitation Texts (1)

8/3/2019 Recitation Texts (1)

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To form an Administration of this scale and complexity is a seriousundertaking in itself, but it must be remembered that we are in thepreliminary stage of one of the greatest battles in history, that we arein action at many other points in Norway and in Holland, that we have

to be prepared in the Mediterranean, that the air battle is continuousand that many preparations, such as have been indicated by my hon.Friend below the Gangway, have to be made here at home. In thiscrisis I hope I may be pardoned if I do not address the House at anylength today. I hope that any of my friends and colleagues, or formercolleagues, who are affected by the political reconstruction, will makeallowance, all allowance, for any lack of ceremony with which it hasbeen necessary to act. I would say to the House, as I said to those whohave joined this government: "I have nothing to offer but blood, toil,tears and sweat."

We have before us an ordeal of the most grievous kind. We havebefore us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering. Youask, what is our policy? I can say: It is to wage war, by sea, land andair, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us; towage war against a monstrous tyranny, never surpassed in the dark,lamentable catalogue of human crime. That is our policy. You ask, whatis our aim? I can answer in one word: It is victory, victory at all costs,victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the roadmay be; for without victory, there is no survival. Let that be realised;no survival for the British Empire, no survival for all that the BritishEmpire has stood for, no survival for the urge and impulse of the ages,

that mankind will move forward towards its goal. But I take up my taskwith buoyancy and hope. I feel sure that our cause will not be sufferedto fail among men. At this time I feel entitled to claim the aid of all, andI say, "come then, let us go forward together with our united strength."

Winston Churchill

How all occasions do inform against me,And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,If his chief good and market of his timeBe but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.

Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,Looking before and after, gave us notThat capability and god-like reasonTo fust in us unused. Now, whether it beBestial oblivion, or some craven scrupleOf thinking too precisely on the event,A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom


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And ever three parts coward, I do not knowWhy yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;'Sith I have cause and will and strength and meansTo do't. Examples gross as earth exhort me:Witness this army of such mass and charge

Led by a delicate and tender prince,Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'dMakes mouths at the invisible event,Exposing what is mortal and unsureTo all that fortune, death and danger dare,Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be greatIs not to stir without great argument,But greatly to find quarrel in a strawWhen honour's at the stake. How stand I then,That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,Excitements of my reason and my blood,

And let all sleep? while, to my shame, I seeThe imminent death of twenty thousand men,That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plotWhereon the numbers cannot try the cause,Which is not tomb enough and continentTo hide the slain? O, from this time forth,My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!

William Shakespeare

What General Weygand called the Battle of France is over. I expectthat the Battle of Britain is about to begin. Upon this battle dependsthe survival of Christian civilization. Upon it depends our own Britishlife, and the long continuity of our institutions and our Empire. Thewhole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us.Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this Island or lose the war.If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be free and the life of the

world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands. But if we fail, thenthe whole world, including the United States, including all that we haveknown and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age mademore sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of pervertedscience. Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bearourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for athousand years, men will still say, "This was their finest hour."

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Winston Churchill

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this

continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to theproposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation,or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We aremet on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate aportion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gavetheir lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and properthat we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow

-- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it,far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember

what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather,

to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far sonobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before

us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which

they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these deadshall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of

freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not

perish from the earth.

Abraham Lincoln

I have, myself, full confidence that if all do their duty, if nothing isneglected, and if the best arrangements are made, as they are beingmade, we shall prove ourselves once again able to defend our Islandhome, to ride out the storm of war, and to outlive the menace oftyranny, if necessary for years, if necessary alone. At any rate, that iswhat we are going to try to do. That is the resolve of His Majesty'sGovernment-every man of them. That is the will of Parliament and the

nation. The British Empire and the French Republic, linked together intheir cause and in their need, will defend to the death their native soil,aiding each other like good comrades to the utmost of their strength.Even though large tracts of Europe and many old and famous Stateshave fallen or may fall into the grip of the Gestapo and all the odiousapparatus of Nazi rule, we shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to theend, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, weshall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we

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shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on thebeaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in thefields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall neversurrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Islandor a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire

beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carryon the struggle, until, in God's good time, the New World, with all itspower and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of theold.

Winston Churchill

It gives me wonder great as my contentTo see you here before me. O my soul's joy!If after every tempest come such calms,May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!And let the laboring bark climb hills of seas

Olympus-high and duck again as lowAs hell's from heaven! If it were now to die,'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear,My soul hath her content so absoluteThat not another comfort like to thisSucceeds in unknown fate.William Shakespeare

On th' other side up roseBELIAL, in act more graceful and humane;A fairer person lost not Heav'n; he seemd

For dignity compos'd and high exploit:But all was false and hollow; though his TongueDropt Manna, and could make the worse appearThe better reason, to perplex and dashMaturest Counsels: for his thoughts were low;To vice industrious, but to Nobler deedsTimorous and slothful: yet he pleas'd the eare,And with perswasive accent thus began.

I should be much for open Warr, O Peers,As not behind in hate; if what was urg'd

Main reason to perswade immediate Warr,Did not disswade me most, and seem to castOminous conjecture on the whole success:When he who most excels in fact of Arms,In what he counsels and in what excelsMistrustful, grounds his courage on despairAnd utter dissolution, as the scopeOf all his aim, after some dire revenge.

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First, what Revenge? the Towrs of Heav'n are fill'dWith Armed watch, that render all accessImpregnable; oft on the bordering DeepEncamp thir Legions, or with obscure wingScout farr and wide into the Realm of night,

Scorning surprize. Or could we break our wayBy force, and at our heels all Hell should riseWith blackest Insurrection, to confoundHeav'ns purest Light, yet our great EnemieAll incorruptible would on his ThroneSit unpolluted, and th' Ethereal mouldIncapable of stain would soon expelHer mischief, and purge off the baser fireVictorious. Thus repuls'd, our final hopeIs flat despair: we must exasperateTh' Almighty Victor to spend all his rage,

And that must end us, that must be our cure,To be no more; sad cure; for who would loose,Though full of pain, this intellectual being,Those thoughts that wander through Eternity,To perish rather, swallowd up and lostIn the wide womb of uncreated night,Devoid of sense and motion? and who knows,Let this be good, whether our angry FoeCan give it, or will ever? how he canIs doubtful; that he never will is sure.Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,

Belike through impotence, or unaware,To give his Enemies thir wish, and endThem in his anger, whom his anger savesTo punish endless? wherefore cease we then?Say they who counsel Warr, we are decreed,Reserv'd and destin'd to Eternal woe;Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,What can we suffer worse? is this then worst,Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in Arms?What when we fled amain, pursu'd and strookWith Heav'ns afflicting Thunder, and besought

The Deep to shelter us? this Hell then seem'dA refuge from those wounds: or when we layChain'd on the burning Lake? that sure was worse.What if the breath that kindl'd those grim firesAwak'd should blow them into sevenfold rageAnd plunge us in the Flames? or from aboveShould intermitted vengeance Arme againHis red right hand to plague us? what if all

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Her stores were op'n'd, and this FirmamentOf Hell should spout her Cataracts of Fire,Impendent horrors, threatning hideous fallOne day upon our heads; while we perhapsDesigning or exhorting glorious Warr,

Caught in a fierie Tempest shall be hurl'dEach on his rock transfixt, the sport and preyOf racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunkUnder yon boyling Ocean, wrapt in Chains;There to converse with everlasting groans,Unrespited, unpitied, unrepreevd,Ages of hopeless end; this would be worse.Warr therefore, open or conceal'd, alikeMy voice disswades; for what can force or guileWith him, or who deceive his mind, whose eyeViews all things at one view? he from heav'ns highth

All these our motions vain, sees and derides;Not more Almighty to resist our mightThen wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.Shall we then live thus vile, the race of Heav'nThus trampl'd, thus expell'd to suffer hereChains & these Torments? better these then worseBy my advice; since fate inevitableSubdues us, and Omnipotent Decree,The Victors will. To suffer, as to doe,Our strength is equal, nor the Law unjustThat so ordains: this was at first resolv'd,

If we were wise, against so great a foeContending, and so doubtful what might fall.John Milton

Sir Patrick Spens

The King sits in Dunfermline town,Drinking the blood-red wine;"O where shall I get a skeely skipper

To sail this ship or mine?"Then up and spake an eldern knight,Sat at the King's right knee:"Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailorThat ever sailed the sea."The King has written a broad letter,And sealed it with his hand,

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And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,Was walking on the strand."To Noroway, to Noroway,To Noroway o'er the foam;The King's daughter of Noroway,

'Tis thou must fetch her home."The first line that Sir Patrick read,A loud laugh laughed he;The next line that Sir Patrick read,The tear blinded his ee."O who is this has done this deed,Has told the King of me,To send us out at this time of the year,To sail upon the sea?"Be it wind, be it wet, be it hail, be it sleet,Our ship must sail the foam;

The king's daughter of Noroway,'Tis we must fetch her home."They hoisted their sails on Monenday morn,With all the speed they may;And they have landed in NorowayUpon a WodensdayThey had not been a week, a week,In Noroway but twae,When that the lords of NorowayBegan aloud to say, -"Ye Scottishmen spend all our King's gowd,

And all our Queenis fee.""Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud!So loud I hear ye lie."For I brought as much of the white monieAs gane my men and me,And a half-fou of the good red gowdOut o'er the sea with me."Make ready, make ready, my merry men all,Our good ship sails the morn.""Now, ever alack, my master dearI fear a deadly storm.

"I saw the new moon late yestreenWith the old moon in her arm;And if we go to sea, master,I fear we'll come to harm."They had not sailed a league, a league,A league but barely three,When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud,And gurly grew the sea.

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The ankers brake and the top-masts lap,It was such a deadly storm;And the waves came o'er the broken shipTill all her sides were torn."O where will I get a good sailor

Will take my helm in hand,Till I get up to the tall top-mastTo see if I can spy land?""O here am I, a sailor good,Will take the helm in hand,Till you go up to the tall top-mast,But I fear you'll ne'er spy land."He had not gone a step, a step,A step but barely ane,When a bolt flew out of the good ship's side,And the salt sea came in.

"Go fetch a web of the silken cloth,Another of the twine,And wap them into our good ship's side,And let not the sea come in."They fetched a web of the silken cloth,Another of the twine,And they wapp'd them into the good ship's side,But still the sea came in.O loth, both, were our good Scots lordsTo wet their cork-heel'd shoon,But long ere all the play was play'd

They wet their hats aboon.And many was the feather-bedThat fluttered on the foam;And many was the good lord's sonThat never more came home.The ladies wrang their fingers white,The maidens tore their heair,All for the sake of their true loves,For them they'll see nae mair.O lang, lang may the maidens sitWith their gold combs in their hair,

All waiting for their own dear loves,For them they'll see nae mair.O forty miles of Aberdeen,'Tis fifty fathoms deep;And there lies good Sir Patrick Spens,With the Scots lords at his feet.

Anon

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The Old Hundredth

All people that on earth do dwell,

Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice.Him serve with fear, His praise forth tell;Come ye before Him and rejoice.

The Lord, ye know, is God indeed;Without our aid He did us make;We are His folk, He doth us feed,And for His sheep He doth us take.

O enter then His gates with praise;Approach with joy His courts unto;

Praise, laud, and bless His Name always,For it is seemly so to do.

For why? the Lord our God is good;His mercy is for ever sure;His truth at all times firmly stood,And shall from age to age endure.

To Father, Son and Holy Ghost,The God Whom Heaven and earth adore,From men and from the angel host

Be praise and glory evermore.

William Kethe, d. 1608?

Julius Caesar, Act IIIFriends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.The evil that men do lives after them;The good is oft interred with their bones;So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus

Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:If it were so, it was a grievous fault,And grievously hath Caesar answer'd it.Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest--For Brutus is an honourable man;So are they all, all honourable men--Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.He was my friend, faithful and just to me:

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But Brutus says he was ambitious;And Brutus is an honourable man.He hath brought many captives home to RomeWhose ransoms did the general coffers fill:Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?

When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;And Brutus is an honourable man.You all did see that on the LupercalI thrice presented him a kingly crown,Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;And, sure, he is an honourable man.I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,But here I am to speak what I do know.

You all did love him once, not without cause:What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,And I must pause till it come back to me.

William Shakespeare, 1564-1616

Henry VThis day is called the feast of Crispian:

He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,And rouse him at the name of Crispian.He that shall live this day, and see old age,Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,But he'll remember with advantagesWhat feats he did that day: then shall our names.

Familiar in his mouth as household wordsHarry the king, Bedford and Exeter,Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.This story shall the good man teach his son;And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,From this day to the ending of the world,But we in it shall be remember'd;

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We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;For he to-day that sheds his blood with meShall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,This day shall gentle his condition:And gentlemen in England now a-bed

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaksThat fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

As You Like It, Act II, Scene 7

All the world's a stage,And all the men and women merely players:They have their exits and their entrances;And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.And then the whining school-boy, with his satchelAnd shining morning face, creeping like snailUnwillingly to school. And then the lover,Sighing like furnace, with a woeful balladMade to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,Seeking the bubble reputationEven in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,

In fair round belly with good capon lined,With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,Full of wise saws and modern instances;And so he plays his part. The sixth age shiftsInto the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wideFor his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,Turning again toward childish treble, pipesAnd whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.


John of Gaunt SpeaksThis royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,

This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

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This other Eden, demi-paradise,This fortress built by Nature for herselfAgainst infection and the hand of war,This happy breed of men, this little world,This precious stone set in the silver sea,

Which serves it in the office of a wall,Or as a moat defensive to a house,Against the envy of less happier lands,This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth,Renowned for their deeds as far from home,For Christian service and true chivalry,As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry,Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son,This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,

Dear for her reputation through the world,Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it,Like to a tenement or pelting farm:England, bound in with the triumphant seaWhose rocky shore beats back the envious siegeOf watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds:That England, that was wont to conquer others,Hath made a shameful conquest of itself:

Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life,How happy then were my ensuing death!


To be a Pilgrim

He who would valiant beGainst all disaster,

Let him in constancyFollow the Master.

Theres no discouragementShall make him once relent

His first avowed intentTo be a pilgrim.

Who so beset him roundWith dismal stories,

Do but themselves confoundHis strength the more is.

No foes shall stay his might;

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Though he with giants fight:He will make good his rightTo be a pilgrim.

Since, Lord, Thou dost defend

Us with Thy Spirit,We know we at the end,Shall life inherit.

Then fancies flee away!Ill fear not what men say,Ill labor night and dayTo be a pilgrim.

John Bunyan, 1622-1688

The Glories of our Blood and State(Excerpt from "The Contention of Ajax and Ulysses")

1The glories of our blood and state2 Are shadows, not substantial things;3There is no armour against fate;4 Death lays his icy hand on kings.5 Sceptre and crown6 Must tumble down,7And in the dust be equal made

8With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

9Some men with swords may reap the field,10 And plant fresh laurels where they kill;11But their strong nerves at last must yield,12 They tame but one another still.13 Early or late,14 They stoop to fate,15And must give up their murmuring breath,16When they, pale captives, creep to death.

17The garlands wither on your brow,18 Then boast no more your mighty deeds;19Upon death's purple altar now,20 See where the victor-victim bleeds.21 Your heads must come22 To the cold tomb;23Only the actions of the just24Smell sweet and blossom in their dust.

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James Shirley (1596-1666)

Sonnet XIX: When I Consider How my Light is Spent

When I consider how my light is spentEre half my days in this dark world and wide,And that one talent which is death to hideLodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bentTo serve therewith my Maker, and presentMy true account, lest he returning chide,"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"I fondly ask. But Patience, to preventThat murmur, soon replies: "God doth not needEither man's work or his own gifts: who best

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His stateIs kingly; thousands at his bidding speedAnd post o'er land and ocean without rest:They also serve who only stand and wait."

John Milton (1608-1674)

Happy the man, and happy he alone,he who can call today his own:

he who, secure within, can say,Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.

Be fair or foul, or rain or shinethe joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.Not Heaven itself, upon the past has power,but what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

John Drydens translation of Horace

The Boyne Water

By Anonymous

JULY the first, of a morning clear, one thousand six hundred and ninety,

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King William did his men prepareof thousands he had thirty

To fight King James and all his foes, encamped near the Boyne Water;

He little feared, though two to one, their multitude to scatter.

King William called his officers, saying: Gentlemen, mind your station,5

And let your valour here be shown before this Irish nation;

My brazen walls let no man break, and your subtle foes youll scatter,

Be sure you show them good English play as you go over the water.

Both foot and horse they marched on, intending them to batter,

But the brave Duke Schomberg he was shot as he crossed over thewater. 10

When that King William did observe the brave Duke Schomberg falling,

He reined his horse with a heavy heart, on the Enniskillenes calling:

What will you do for me, brave boyssee yonder men retreating?

Our enemies encouraged are, and English drums are beating.

He says, My boys feel no dismay at the losing of one commander,15

For God shall be our King this day, and Ill be general under.

Within four yards of our fore-front, before a shot was fired,

A sudden snuff they got that day, which little they desired;

For horse and man fell to the ground, and some hung on their saddle:

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our shelter from the stormy blast,and our eternal home:

Under the shadow of thy throne,thy saints have dwelt secure;

sufficient is thine arm alone,and our defense is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,or earth received her frame,from everlasting thou art God,to endless years the same.

A thousand ages in thy sightare like an evening gone;short as the watch that ends the night

before the rising sun.

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,bears all its sons away;they fly, forgotten, as a dreamdies at the opening day.

O God, our help in ages past,our hope for years to come,be thou our guide while troubles last,and our eternal home!

Isaac Watts

Rule, Britannia

WHEN Britain first at Heaven's commandArose from out the azure main,

This was the charter of her land,

And guardian angels sung the strain:Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves! 5

Britons never shall be slaves!

The nations not so blest as theeMust in their turn to tyrants fall,

Whilst thou shalt flourish great and freeThe dread and envy of them all. 10

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Still more majestic shalt thou rise,More dreadful from each foreign stroke;

As the loud blast that tears the skiesServes but to root thy native oak.

Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame; 15All their attempts to bend thee down

Will but arouse thy generous flame,And work their woe and thy renown.

To thee belongs the rural reign;Thy cities shall with commerce shine; 20All thine shall be the subject main,And every shore it circles thine!

The Muses, still with Freedom found,Shall to thy happy coast repair;Blest Isle, with matchless beauty crown'd 25And manly hearts to guard the fair:

Rule, Britannia! Britannia rules the waves!Britons never shall be slaves!

James Thomson

Elegy Written in a Country ChurchyardTHE curfew tolls the knell of parting day;The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea;The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,And leaves the world to darkness and to me.

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, 5And all the air a solemn stillness holds,Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight,And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;

Save that, from yonder ivy-mantled tower,The moping owl does to the moon complain 10Of such as, wandering near her secret bower,Molest her ancient solitary reign.

Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shadeWhere heaves the turf in many a mouldering heap,

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Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, 15The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

The breezy call of incense-breathing morn,The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed,

The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn,No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 20For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,Or busy housewife ply her evening care;No children run to lisp their sire's return,Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.

Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield; 25Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke;How jocund did they drive their team afield!

How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke!

Let not ambition mock their useful toil,Their homely joys, and destiny obscure; 30Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smileThe short and simple annals of the poor.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,Awaits alike the inevitable hour: 35The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault,If memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise,Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vaultThe pealing anthem swells the note of praise. 40Can storied urn or animated bustBack to its mansion call the fleeting breath?Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust,Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death?

Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid 45Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire;Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd,Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre:

But knowledge to their eyes her ample page,Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll; 50Chill penury repressed their noble rage,

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And froze the genial current of the soul.

Full many a gem of purest ray sereneThe dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 55

And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breastThe little tyrant of his fields withstood,Some mute inglorious Milton, here may rest,Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. 60Th' applause of listening senates to command,The threats of pain and ruin to despise,To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land,And read their history in a nation's eyes,

Their lot forbade: nor circumscribed alone 65Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined;Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne,And shut the gates of mercy on mankind;

The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide,To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, 70Or heap the shrine of luxury and prideWith incense kindled at the Muse's flame.

Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strifeTheir sober wishes never learned to stray;Along the cool sequestered vale of life 75They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.

Yet ev'n these bones, from insult to protect,Some frail memorial still erected nigh,With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked,Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. 80Their name, their years, spelt by the unlettered Muse,

The place of fame and elegy supply;And many a holy text around she strews,That teach the rustic moralist to die.

For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, 85This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned,Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day,Nor cast one longing lingering look behind?

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On some fond breast the parting soul relies,Some pious drops the closing eye requires; 90Ev'n from the tomb the voice of nature cries,Ev'n in our ashes live their wonted fires.

For thee, who, mindful of the unhonoured dead,Dost in these lines their artless tale relate;If chance, by lonely contemplation led, 95Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate,

Haply some hoary-headed swain may say:"Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawnBrushing with hasty steps the dews away,To meet the sun upon the upland lawn; 100

"There, at the foot of yonder nodding beechThat wreathes its old fantastic roots so high,His listless length at noontide would he stretch,And pore upon the brook that babbles by.

"Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, 105Muttering his wayward fancies he would rove;Now drooping, woeful-wan, like one forlorn,Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.

"One morn I missed him on the accustomed hill,

Along the heath, and near his favourite tree. 110Another came; nor yet beside the rill,Nor up the lawn, nor at the wood, was he.

"The next with dirges due, in sad array,Slow through the church-way path we saw him borne,Approach and read (for thou canst read) the lay 115Graved on the stone beneath yon aged thorn."

THE EPITAPH

Here rests his head upon the lap of earth,A youth to fortune and to fame unknown;Fair science frowned not on his humble birth,And melancholy marked him for her own. 120Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere;Heaven did a recompense as largely send:He gave to misery (all he had) a tear,

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He gained from Heaven ('twas all he wished) a friend.

No further seek his merits to disclose, 125Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,(There they alike in trembling hope repose,)

The bosom of his Father and his God.Thomas Gray

Rock of AgesRock of Ages, cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in Thee;Let the water and the blood,

From Thy wounded side which flowed,Be of sin the double cure;

Save from wrath and make me pure.

2. Not the labor of my handsCan fulfill Thy laws demands;Could my zeal no respite know,

Could my tears forever flow,All for sin could not atone;

Thou must save, and Thou alone.3. Nothing in my hand I bring,

Simply to the cross I cling;Naked, come to Thee for dress;

Helpless look to Thee for grace;Foul, I to the fountain fly;

Wash me, Savior, or I die.4. While I draw this fleeting breath,

When mine eyes shall close in death,When I rise to worlds unknown,

And behold thee on thy throne,Rock of Ages, cleft for me,

Let me hide myself in Thee.Augustus Toplady

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And did those feet in ancient time

Walk upon England's mountains green?

And was the Holy Lamb of God

On England's pleasant pastures seen?

And did the countenance divine

Shine forth upon our clouded hills?

And was Jerusalem builded here

Among these dark satanic mills?

Bring me my bow of burning gold!

Bring me my arrows of desire!

Bring me my spear! O clouds unfold!

Bring me my chariot of fire!

I will not cease from mental fight

Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand

Till we have built Jerusalem

In England's green and pleasant land.

William Blake 1757-1827

Inaugural Address speech by Nelson Mandela

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Your Majesties, Your Highnesses, DistinguishedGuests, Comrades and friends:Today, all of us do, by our presence here, and byour celebrations in other parts of our country and

the world, confer glory and hope to newbornliberty.Out of the experience of an extraordinary humandisaster that lasted too long, must be born asociety of which all humanity will be proud.Our daily deeds as ordinary South Africans mustproduce an actual South African reality that willreinforce humanity's belief in justice, strengthenits confidence in the nobility of the human souland sustain all our hopes for a glorious life for all.

All this we owe both to ourselves and to thepeoples of the world who are so well representedhere today.To my compatriots, I have no hesitation in sayingthat each one of us is as intimately attached tothe soil of this beautiful country as are thefamous jacaranda trees of Pretoria and themimosa trees of the bushveld.Each time one of us touches the soil of this land,

we feel a sense of personal renewal. The nationalmood changes as the seasons change.We are moved by a sense of joy and exhilarationwhen the grass turns green and the flowersbloom.That spiritual and physical oneness we all sharewith this common homeland explains the depth ofthe pain we all carried in our hearts as we saw ourcountry tear itself apart in a terrible conflict, andas we saw it spurned, outlawed and isolated bythe peoples of the world, precisely because it hasbecome the universal base of the perniciousideology and practice of racism and racialoppression.We, the people of South Africa, feel fulfilled thathumanity has taken us back into its bosom, that

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we, who were outlaws not so long ago, have todaybeen given the rare privilege to be host to thenations of the world on our own soil.We thank all our distinguished international

guests for having come to take possession withthe people of our country of what is, after all, acommon victory for justice, for peace, for humandignity.We trust that you will continue to stand by us aswe tackle the challenges of building peace,prosperity, non-sexism, non-racialism anddemocracy.We deeply appreciate the role that the masses ofour people and their political mass democratic,

religious, women, youth, business, traditional andother leaders have played to bring about thisconclusion. Not least among them is my SecondDeputy President, the Honourable F.W. de Klerk.We would also like to pay tribute to our securityforces, in all their ranks, for the distinguished rolethey have played in securing our first democraticelections and the transition to democracy, fromblood-thirsty forces which still refuse to see the

light.The time for the healing of the wounds has come.The moment to bridge the chasms that divide ushas come.The time to build is upon us.We have, at last, achieved our politicalemancipation. We pledge ourselves to liberate allour people from the continuing bondage ofpoverty, deprivation, suffering, gender and otherdiscrimination.We succeeded to take our last steps to freedom inconditions of relative peace. We commit ourselvesto the construction of a complete, just and lastingpeace.We have triumphed in the effort to implant hopein the breasts of the millions of our people. We

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enter into a covenant that we shall build thesociety in which all South Africans, both black andwhite, will be able to walk tall, without any fear intheir hearts, assured of their inalienable right to

human dignity--a rainbow nation at peace withitself and the world.As a token of its commitment to the renewal ofour country, the new Interim Government ofNational Unity will, as a matter of urgency,address the issue of amnesty for variouscategories of our people who are currentlyserving terms of imprisonment.We dedicate this day to all the heroes andheroines in this country and the rest of the world

who sacrificed in many ways and surrenderedtheir lives so that we could be free.Their dreams have become reality. Freedom istheir reward.We are both humbled and elevated by the honourand privilege that you, the people of South Africa,have bestowed on us, as the first President of aunited, democratic, non-racial and non-sexistSouth Africa, to lead our country out of the valley

of darkness.We understand it still that there is no easy roadto freedom.We know it well that none of us acting alone canachieve success.We must therefore act together as a unitedpeople, for national reconciliation, for nationbuilding, for the birth of a new world.Let there be justice for all.Let there be peace for all.Let there be work, bread, water and salt for all.Let each know that for each the body, the mindand the soul have been freed to fulfil themselves.Never, never and never again shall it be that thisbeautiful land will again experience theoppression of one by another and suffer the

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indignity of being the skunk of the world.Let freedom reign.The sun shall never set on so glorious a humanachievement!

God bless Africa!

The Tiger

TIGER, tiger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies 5

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art

Could twist the sinews of thy heart? 10

And when thy heart began to beat,What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

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What the anvil? What dread grasp 15

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,

And water'd heaven with their tears,

Did He smile His work to see?

Did He who made the lamb make thee? 20

Tiger, tiger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

William Blake

Auguries of Innocence

"The world is too much with us"To see a world in a grain of sand,And a heaven in a wild flower,Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,And eternity in an hour.

A robin redbreast in a cagePuts all heaven in a rage.

A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeonsShudders hell thro' all its regions.A dog starv'd at his master's gatePredicts the ruin of the state.

A horse misused upon the roadCalls to heaven for human blood.Each outcry of the hunted hare

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A fibre from the brain does tear.

A skylark wounded in the wing,A cherubim does cease to sing.The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight

Does the rising sun affright.

Every wolf's and lion's howlRaises from hell a human soul.

The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,Keeps the human soul from care.The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,And yet forgives the butcher's knife.

The bat that flits at close of eve

Has left the brain that won't believe.The owl that calls upon the nightSpeaks the unbeliever's fright.

He who shall hurt the little wrenShall never be belov'd by men.He who the ox to wrath has mov'dShall never be by woman lov'd.

The wanton boy that kills the flyShall feel the spider's enmity.

He who torments the chafer's spriteWeaves a bower in endless night.

The caterpillar on the leafRepeats to thee thy mother's grief.Kill not the moth nor butterfly,For the last judgement draweth nigh.

He who shall train the horse to warShall never pass the polar bar.The beggar's dog and widow's cat,

Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.

The gnat that sings his summer's songPoison gets from slander's tongue.The poison of the snake and newtIs the sweat of envy's foot.

The poison of the honey bee

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Is the artist's jealousy.

The prince's robes and beggar's ragsAre toadstools on the miser's bags.A truth that's told with bad intent

Beats all the lies you can invent.

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 pineRuns a joy with silken twine.

The babe is more than swaddling bands;Every farmer understands.Every tear from every eyeBecomes a babe in eternity;

This is caught by females bright,And return'd to its own delight.The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.

The babe that weeps the rod beneathWrites revenge in realms of death.The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,Does to rags the heavens tear.

The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,Palsied strikes the summer's sun.The poor man's farthing is worth moreThan all the gold on Afric's shore.

One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands

Shall buy and sell the miser's lands;Or, if protected from on high,Does that whole nation sell and buy.

He who mocks the infant's faithShall be mock'd in age and death.He who shall teach the child to doubtThe rotting grave shall ne'er get out.

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He who respects the infant's faithTriumphs over hell and death.The child's toys and the old man's reasonsAre the fruits of the two seasons.

The questioner, who sits so sly,Shall never know how to reply.He who replies to words of doubtDoth put the light of knowledge out.

The strongest poison ever knownCame from Caesar's laurel crown.Nought can deform the human raceLike to the armour's iron brace.

When gold and gems adorn the plow,To peaceful arts shall envy bow.A riddle, or the cricket's cry,Is to doubt a fit reply.

The emmet's inch and eagle's mileMake lame philosophy to smile.He who doubts from what he seesWill ne'er believe, do what you please.

If the sun and moon should doubt,

They'd immediately go out.To be in a passion you good may do,But no good if a passion is in you.

The whore and gambler, by the stateLicensed, build that nation's fate.The harlot's cry from street to streetShall weave old England's winding-sheet.

The winner's shout, the loser's curse,Dance before dead England's hearse.

Every night and every mornSome to misery are born,Every morn and every nightSome are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,Some are born to endless night.

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We are led to believe a lieWhen 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, and God is light,To those poor souls who dwell in night;But does a human form displayTo those who dwell in realms of day.William Blake 1757-1827

THE World is too much with us; late and soon,Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:

Little we see in Nature that is ours;We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon! This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon, 5

The winds that will be howling at all hoursAnd are up-gather'd now like sleeping flowers,

For this, for everything, we are out of tune;It moves us not.Great God! I'd rather be

A pagan suckled in a creed outworn, 10So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,

Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;

Or hear old Triton blow his wreathd horn.

William Wordsworth

The Sermon on the Mount - Jesus Christ

Matthew 5 - 6 - 7

Matthew 5

And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a mountain: and when he was set, his

disciples came unto him: And he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying:

Blessed are the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.

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Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be

filled.

Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.

Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the

kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all

manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.

Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so

persecuted they the prophets which were before you.

Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be

salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden

under foot of men.

Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid.

Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it

giveth light unto all that are in the house.

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify

your Father which is in heaven.

Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to

destroy, but to fulfil.

For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no

wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled.

Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach

men so, he shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do

and teach them, the same shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven.

For I say unto you, That except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of

the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.

Ye have heard that it was said of them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and

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whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment:

But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall

be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be

in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of

hell fire.

Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother

hath ought against thee;

Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy

brother, and then come and offer thy gift.

Agree with thine adversary quickly, whiles thou art in the way with him; lest at any

time the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the

officer, and thou be cast into prison.

Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou hast paid

the uttermost farthing.

Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not commit adultery:

But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath

committed adultery with her already in his heart.

And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is

profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole

body should be cast into hell.

And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable

for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should

be cast into hell.

It hath been said, Whosoever shall put away his wife, let him give her a writing of

divorcement:

But I say unto you, That whosoever shall put away his wife, saving for the cause of

fornication, causeth her to commit adultery: and whosoever shall marry her that is

divorced committeth adultery.

Again, ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old time, Thou shalt not

forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the Lord thine oaths:

But I say unto you, Swear not at all; neither by heaven; for it is God's throne: Nor

by the earth; for it is his footstool: neither by Jerusalem; for it is the city of the great

King.

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reward thee openly.

And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray

standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of

men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.

But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy

door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret

shall reward thee openly.

But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do: for they think that

they shall be heard for their much speaking.

Be not ye therefore like unto them: for your Father knoweth what things ye have

need of, before ye ask him.

After this manner therefore pray ye: Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed bethy name.

Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom,

and the power, and the glory, for ever.

Amen.

For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you:

But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your

trespasses.

Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they

disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you,

They have their reward.

But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thine head, and wash thy face;

That thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father which is in secret: and

thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.

Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt,

and where thieves break through and steal:

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But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth

corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal:

For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall

be full of light.

But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore the

light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!

No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or

else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and

mammon.

Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or whatye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than

meat, and the body than raiment?

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into

barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?

Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature?

And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they

grow; they toil not, neither do they spin:

And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one

of these.

Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is

cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?

Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or,

Wherewithal shall we be clothed?

(For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth

that ye have need of all these things.

But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things

shall be added unto you.

Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for

the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

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Matthew 7

Judge not, that ye be not judged.

For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure yemete, it shall be measured to you again.

And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but considerest not the

beam that is in thine own eye?

Or how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote out of thine eye; and,

behold, a beam is in thine own eye?

Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye; and then shalt thou see

clearly to cast out the mote out of thy brother's eye.

Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine,

lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.

Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened

unto you:

For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that

knocketh it shall be opened.

Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?

Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?

If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much

more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?

Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so

to them: for this is the law and the prophets.

Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth

to destruction, and many there be which go in thereat:

Because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few

there be that find it.

Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they

are ravening wolves.

Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of

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thistles?

Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth

evil fruit.

A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither can a corrupt tree bring forth goodfruit.

Every tree that bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire.

Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them.

Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of

heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven.

Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name?

and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderfulworks?

And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work

iniquity.

Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him

unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock:

And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon

that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock.

And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be

likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand:

And the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon

that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it.

And it came to pass, when Jesus had ended these sayings, the people were

astonished at his doctrine:

For he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.

The Charge of the Light Brigade

1 Half a league half a league2 Half a league onward3 All in the valley of Death

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4 Rode the six hundred:5 `Forward the Light Brigade6 Charge for the guns' he said7 Into the valley of Death8 Rode the six hundred

9 `Forward the Light Brigade!'10 Was there a man dismay'd?11 Not tho' the soldier knew12 Some one had blunder'd:13 Theirs not to make reply,14 Theirs not to reason why,15 Theirs but to do & die,16 Into the valley of Death17 Rode the six hundred.

18 Cannon to right of them,19 Cannon to left of them,20 Cannon in front of them21 Volley'd & thunder'd;22 Storm'd at with shot & shell,23 Boldly they rode & well,24 Into the jaws of Death,25 Into the mouth of Hell26 Rode the six hundred.

27 Flash'd all their sabres bare,

28 Flash'd as they turn'd in air,29 Sabring the gunners there,30 Charging an army while31 All the world wonder'd:32 Plunged in the battery-smoke33 Right thro' the line they broke;34 Cossack & Russian35 Reel'd from the sabre-stroke,36 Shatter'd & sunder'd.37 Then they rode back, but not38 Not the six hundred.

39 Cannon to right of them,40 Cannon to left of them,41 Cannon behind them42 Volley'd & thunder'd;43 Storm'd at with shot & shell,44 While horse & hero fell,45 They that had fought so well

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46 Came thro' the jaws of Death47 Back from the mouth of Hell,48 All that was left of them49 Left of six hundred.

50 When can their glory fade?51 O the wild charge they made!52 All the world wonder'd.53 Honour the charge they made!54 Honour the Light Brigade,55 Noble six hundred!

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Concord HymnBy the rude bridge that arched the flood,Their flag to April's breeze unfurled;

Here once the embattled farmers stood;And fired the shot heard round the world.The foe long since in silence slept;Alike the conqueror silent sleeps,And Time the ruined bridge has sweptDown the dark stream that seaward creeps.On this green bank, by this soft stream,We place with joy a votive stone,That memory may their deeds redeem,When, like our sires, our sons are gone.O Thou who made those heroes dare

To die, and leave their children free, --Bid Time and Nature gently spareThe shaft we raised to them and Thee.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Obituary to Diana Princess of Wales speech by the Earl

of Spencer

I stand before you today, the representative of a family in grief, in a country in

mourning, before a world in shock.

We are all united, not only in our desire to pay our respects to Diana, but rather in

our need to do so, because such was her extraordinary appeal that the tens of

millions of people taking part in this service all over the world via television and

radio who never actually met her feel that they too lost someone close to them in the

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early hours of Sunday morning.

It is a more remarkable tribute to Diana then I can ever hope to offer to her today.

Diana was the very essence of compassion, of duty, of style, of beauty.

All over the world she was the symbol of selfless humanity. A standard bearer for

the rights of the truly downtrodden. A very British girl who transcended

nationality. Someone with a natural nobility who was classless and who proved inthe last year that she needed no royal title to continue to generate her particular

brand of magic.

Today is our chance to say thank you for the way you brightened our lives, even

though God granted you but half a life. We will all feel cheated always that you were

taken from us so young and yet we must learn to be grateful that you came at all.

Only now you are gone do we truly appreciate what we are without, and we want

you to know that life without you is very, very difficult.

We have all despaired for our loss over the past week and only the strength of the

message you gave us through your years of giving has afforded us the strength to

move forward.

There is a temptation to rush, to canonize your memory. There is no need to do so.You stand tall enough as a human being of unique qualities, and do not need to be

seen as a saint.

Indeed, to sanctify your memory would be to miss out on the very core of your being

your wonderfully mischievous sense of humour with a laugh that bent you double,

your joy for life transmitted wherever you took your smile and the sparkle in those

unforgettable eyes, your boundless energy which you could barely contain.

But your greatest gift was your intuition and it was a gift you used wisely. This is

what under pinned all your other wonderful attributes.

And if we look to analyse what it was about you that had such a wide appeal we find

it in your instinctive feel for what was really important in all our lives.

Without your God-given sensitivity, we would be immersed in greater ignorance at

the anguish of Aids and HIV sufferers, the plight of the homeless, the isolation of

lepers, the random destruction of land mines.

Diana explained to me once that it was her innermost feelings of suffering that made

it possible for her to connect with her constituency of the rejected.

And here we come to another truth about her. For all the status, the glamour, the

applause, Diana remained throughout a very insecure person at heart, almost

childlike in her desire to do good for others so she could release herself from deep

feelings of unworthiness of which her eating disorders were merely a symptom.

The world sensed this part of her character and cherished her vulnerability.

The last time I saw Diana was on July 1st, her birthday, in London when typically

she was not taking time to celebrate her special day with friends but was guest of

honour at a fund-raising charity evening. She sparkled, of course.

But I would rather cherish the days I spent with her in March when she came to

visit me and my children at our home in South Africa. I am proud of the fact that,

apart from when she was on public display meeting President Mandela, we

managed to contrive to stop the ever-present paparazzi from getting a single picture

of her. That meant a lot to her.

These are days I will always treasure. It was as if we were transported back to our

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childhood when we spent such an enormous amount of time together as the two

youngest in the family.

Fundamentally she hadnt changed at all from the big sister who mothered me as a

baby, fought with me at school, who endured those long journeys between our

parents home with me at weekends.

It is a tribute to her level-headedness and strength that despite the most bizarre lifeafter her childhood, she remained intact, true to herself.

There is no doubt she was looking for a new direction in her life at this time.

She talked endlessly of getting away from England, mainly because of the treatment

that she received at the hands of the newspapers.

I dont think she ever understood why her genuinely good intentions were sneered

at by the media, why there appeared to be a permanent quest on their behalf to

bring her down. It is baffling.

My own and only explanation is that genuine goodness is threatening to those at the

opposite end of the moral spectrum.

It is a point to remember that of all the ironies about Diana, perhaps the greatest

was this: a girl given the name of the ancient goddess of hunting was, in the end, themost hunted person of the modern age.

She would want us today to pledge ourselves to protecting her beloved boys,

William and Harry, from a similar fate, and I do this here, Diana, on your behalf.

We will not allow them to suffer the anguish that used regularly to drive you to

tearful despair. And beyond that, on behalf of your mother and sisters, I pledge that

we, your blood family, will do all we can to continue the imaginative and loving way

in which you were steering these two exceptional young men so that their souls are

not simply immersed by duty and tradition but can sing openly as you planned.

We fully respect the heritage into which they have both been born and will always

respect and encourage them in their royal role. But we, like you, recognize the need

for them to experience as many different aspects of life as possible to arm them

spiritually and emotionally for the years ahead. I know you would have expected

nothing less from us.

William and Harry, we all care desperately for you today. We are all chewed up

with sadness at the loss of a woman who wasnt even our mother. How great your

suffering is we cannot even imagine.

I would like to end by thanking God for the small mercies he has shown us at this

dreadful time, for taking Diana at her most beautiful and radiant and when she had

joy in her private life.

Above all, we give thanks for the life of a woman Im so proud to be able to call my

sister the unique, the complex, the extraordinary and irreplaceable Diana whose

beauty, both internal and external, will never be extinguished from our minds.

The Wreck of the HesperusIt was the schooner Hesperus

That sailed the wintry sea;And the skipper had taken his little daughterTo bear him company.

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Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax,Her cheeks like the dawn of day,

And her bosom white as the hawthorn budsThat ope in the month of May.

The skipper he stood beside the helm,His pipe was in his mouth,And he watched how the veering flaw did blowThe smoke now west, now south.

Then up and spake an old sailor,Had sailed to the Spanish Main,

"I pray thee, put into yonder port,For I fear a hurricane.

"Last night the moon had a golden ring,

And to-night no moon we see!"The skipper he blew a whiff from his pipe,And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and louder blew the wind,A gale from the north-east;

The snow fell hissing in the brine,And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amainThe vessel in its strength;

She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed,Then leaped her cable's length.

"Come hither! come hither, my little daughter,And do not tremble so;

For I can weather the roughest gale,That ever wind did blow."

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat,Against the stinging blast;

He cut a rope from a broken spar,

And bound her to the mast.

"O father! I hear the church-bells ring;O say, what may it be?"--

"'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"--And he steered for the open sea.

"O father! I hear the sound of guns;

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O say, what may it be?"--"Some ship in distress, that cannot liveIn such an angry sea!"

"O father! I see a gleaming light;

O say, what may it be?"But the father answered never a word,--A frozen corpse was he.

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark.With his face turned to the skies.

The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snowOn his fixed and glassy eyes.

Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayedThat saved she might be;

And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave,On the Lake of Galilee.

And fast through the midnight dark and drear,Through the whistling sleet and snow,

Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel sweptTowards the reef of Norman's Woe.

And ever the fitful gusts between,A sound came from the land;

It was the sound of the trampling surf,

On the rocks and the hard sea-sand,

The breakers were right beneath her bows,She drifted a dreary wreck,

And a whooping billow swept the crewLike icicles from her deck.

She struck where the white and fleecy wavesLooked soft as carded wool;

But the cruel rocks, they gored her sideLike the horns of an angry bull.

Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,With the masts went by the board;

Like a vessel of glass, she strove and sank,Ho! ho! the breakers roared.

At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,A fisherman stood aghast,

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To see the form of a maiden fair,Lashed close to a drifting mast.

The salt sea was frozen on her breast,The salt tears in her eyes;

And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed,On the billows fall and rise.

Such was the wreck of the Hesperus,In the midnight and the snow!

Christ save us all from a death like this,On the reef of Norman's Woe!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Ask Not What Your Country Can Do For You speech

Vice President Johnson, Mr. Speaker, Mr. Chief Justice, President Eisenhower, Vice

President Nixon, President Truman, reverend clergy, fellow citizens, we observe

today not a victory of party, but a celebration of freedom - symbolizing an end, as

well as a beginning - signifying renewal, as well as change. For I have sworn before

you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a

century and three quarters ago.

The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to

abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same

revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the

globe - the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state,

but from the hand of God.

We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word

go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been

passed to a new generation of Americans - born in this century, tempered by war,

disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage - and unwilling

to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this Nation

has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and

around the world.

Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price,

bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to

assure the survival and the success of liberty.

This much we pledge - and more.

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To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the

loyalty of faithful friends. United, there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative

ventures. Divided, there is little we can do - for we dare not meet a powerful

challenge at odds and split asunder.

To those new States whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our wordthat one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced

by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our

view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom -

and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the

back of the tiger ended up inside.

To those peoples in the huts and villages across the globe struggling to break the

bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for

whatever period is required - not because the Communists may be doing it, not

because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the

many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.

To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge - to convert

our good words into good deeds - in a new alliance for progress - to assist free men

and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful

revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbours

know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in

the Americas. And let every other power know that this Hemisphere intends to

remain the master of its own house.

To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in

an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we

renew our pledge of support - to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for

invective - to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak - and to enlarge the area

in which its writ may run.

Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a

pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark

powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or

accidental self-destruction.

We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient

beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.

But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our

present course - both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both

rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter

that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.

So let us begin anew - remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of

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weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear.

But let us never fear to negotiate.

Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belabouring those

problems which divide us.

Let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the

inspection and control of arms - and bring the absolute power to destroy other

nations under the absolute control of all nations.

Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together

let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths,

and encourage the arts and commerce.

Let both sides unite to heed in all corners of the earth the command of Isaiah - to

"undo the heavy burdens -. and to let the oppressed go free."

And if a beachhead of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both

sides join in creating a new endeavour, not a new balance of power, but a new world

of law, where the strong are just and the weak secure and the peace preserved.

All this will not be finished in the first 100 days. Nor will it be finished in the first

1,000 days, nor in the life of this Administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on

this planet. But let us begin.

In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than in mine, will rest the final success or

failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans

has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young

Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.

Now the trumpet summons us again - not as a call to bear arms, though arms we

need; not as a call to battle, though embattled we are - but a call to bear the burden

of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out, "rejoicing in hope, patient in

tribulation" - a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty,

disease, and war itself.

Can we forge against these enemies a grand and global alliance, North and South,

East and West, that can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? Will you join in

that historic effort?

In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of

defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shank from this

responsibility - I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places

with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion

which we bring to this endeavour will light our country and all who serve it -- and

the glow from that fire can truly light the world.

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And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you - ask what

you can do for your country.

My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what

together we can do for the freedom of man.

Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us the

same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good

conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go

forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that

here on earth God's work must truly be our own.

Paul Reveres Ride

Listen my children and you shall hearOf the midnight ride of Paul Revere,On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;Hardly a man is now aliveWho remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British marchBy land or sea from the town to-night,Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry archOf the North Church tower as a signal light,--One if by land, and two if by sea;

And I on the opposite shore will be,Ready to ride and spread the alarmThrough every Middlesex village and farm,For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oarSilently rowed to the Charlestown shore,Just as the moon rose over the bay,Where swinging wide at her moorings layThe Somerset, British man-of-war;A phantom ship, with each mast and spar

Across the moon like a prison bar,And a huge black hulk, that was magnifiedBy its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and streetWanders and watches, with eager ears,Till in the silence around him he hearsThe muster of men at the barrack door,

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The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,And the measured tread of the grenadiers,Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,

By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,To the belfry chamber overhead,And startled the pigeons from their perchOn the sombre rafters, that round him madeMasses and moving shapes of shade,--By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,To the highest window in the wall,Where he paused to listen and look downA moment on the roofs of the townAnd the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,In their night encampment on the hill,Wrapped in silence so deep and stillThat he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,The watchful night-wind, as it wentCreeping along from tent to tent,And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"A moment only he feels the spellOf the place and the hour, and the secret dreadOf the lonely belfry and the dead;For suddenly all his thoughts are bent

On a shadowy something far away,Where the river widens to meet the bay,--A line of black that bends and floatsOn the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,Booted and spurred, with a heavy strideOn the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.Now he patted his horse's side,Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,

And turned and tightened his saddle girth;But mostly he watched with eager searchThe belfry tower of the Old North Church,As it rose above the graves on the hill,Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's heightA glimmer, and then a gleam of light!He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,

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But lingers and gazes, till full on his sightA second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,

And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a sparkStruck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,The fate of a nation was riding that night;And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,Kindled the land into flame with its heat.He has left the village and mounted the steep,And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;And under the alders that skirt its edge,Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,

Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clockWhen he crossed the bridge into Medford town.He heard the crowing of the cock,And the barking of the farmer's dog,And felt the damp of the river fog,That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,When he galloped into Lexington.

He saw the gilded weathercockSwim in the moonlight as he passed,And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,Gaze at him with a spectral glare,As if they already stood aghastAt the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,When he came to the bridge in Concord town.He heard the bleating of the flock,And the twitter of birds among the trees,

And felt the breath of the morning breezeBlowing over the meadow brown.And one was safe and asleep in his bedWho at the bridge would be first to fall,Who that day would be lying dead,Pierced by a British musket ball.

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You know the rest. In the books you have readHow the British Regulars fired and fled,---How the farmers gave them ball for ball,>From behind each fence and farmyard wall,Chasing the redcoats down the lane,

Then crossing the fields to emerge againUnder the trees at the turn of the road,And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;And so through the night went his cry of alarmTo every Middlesex village and farm,---A cry of defiance, and not of fear,A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,And a word that shall echo for evermore!For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,

Through all our history, to the last,In the hour of darkness and peril and need,The people will waken and listen to hearThe hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Declaration of War to Japan

Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, members of the Senate and the House of

Representatives:

Yesterday, December 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy - the United States of

America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the

Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that nation, and, at the solicitation of Japan,

was still in conversation with its government and its Emperor looking toward the

maintenance of peace in the Pacific.

Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the

American island of Oahu, the Japanese Ambassador to the United States and his

colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American

message. And, while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing

diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.

It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the

attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the

intervening time the Japanese Government has deliberately sought to deceive the

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United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian Islands has caused severe damage to

American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American

lives ha

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