English is tough stuff

English is tough stuff

Dearest creature in creation,
Study English pronunciation.
I will teach you in my verse
Sounds like corpse, corps, horse, and worse.
I will keep you, Suzy, busy,
Make your head with heat grow dizzy.
Tear in eye, your dress will tear.
So shall I! Oh hear my prayer.

Just compare heart, beard, and heard,
Dies and diet, lord and word,
Sword and sward, retain and Britain.
(Mind the latter, how it's written.)
Now I surely will not plague you
With such words as plaque and ague.
But be careful how you speak:
Say break and steak, but bleak and streak;
Cloven, oven, how and low,
Script, receipt, show, poem, and toe.

Hear me say, devoid of trickery,
Daughter, laughter, and Terpsichore,
Typhoid, measles, topsails, aisles,
Exiles, similes, and reviles;
Scholar, vicar, and cigar,
Solar, mica, war and far;
One, anemone, Balmoral,
Kitchen, lichen, laundry, laurel;
Gertrude, German, wind and mind,
Scene, Melpomene, mankind.

Billet does not rhyme with ballet,
Bouquet, wallet, mallet, chalet.
Blood and flood are not like food,
Nor is mould like should and would.
Viscous, viscount, load and broad,
Toward, to forward, to reward.
And your pronunciation's OK
When you correctly say croquet,
Rounded, wounded, grieve and sieve,
Friend and fiend, alive and live.

Ivy, privy, famous; clamour
And enamour rhyme with hammer.
River, rival, tomb, bomb, comb,
Doll and roll and some and home.
Stranger does not rhyme with anger,
Neither does devour with clangour.
Souls but foul, haunt but aunt,
Font, front, wont, want, grand, and grant,
Shoes, goes, does. Now first say finger,
And then singer, ginger, linger,
Real, zeal, mauve, gauze, gouge and gauge,
Marriage, foliage, mirage, and age.

Query does not rhyme with very,
Nor does fury sound like bury.
Dost, lost, post and doth, cloth, loth.
Job, nob, bosom, transom, oath.
Though the differences seem little,
We say actual but victual.
Refer does not rhyme with deafer.
Foeffer does, and zephyr, heifer.
Mint, pint, senate and sedate;
Dull, bull, and George ate late.
Scenic, Arabic, Pacific,
Science, conscience, scientific.

Liberty, library, heave and heaven,
Rachel, ache, moustache, eleven.
We say hallowed, but allowed,
People, leopard, towed, but vowed.
Mark the differences, moreover,
Between mover, cover, clover;
Leeches, breeches, wise, precise,
Chalice, but police and lice;
Camel, constable, unstable,
Principle, disciple, label.

Petal, panel, and canal,
Wait, surprise, plait, promise, pal.
Worm and storm, chaise, chaos, chair,
Senator, spectator, mayor.
Tour, but our and succour, four.
Gas, alas, and Arkansas.
Sea, idea, Korea, area,
Psalm, Maria, but malaria.
Youth, south, southern, cleanse and clean.
Doctrine, turpentine, marine.

Compare alien with Italian,
Dandelion and battalion.
Sally with ally, yea, ye,
Eye, I, ay, aye, whey, and key.
Say aver, but ever, fever,
Neither, leisure, skein, deceiver.
Heron, granary, canary.
Crevice and device and aerie.
Face, but preface, not efface.
Phlegm, phlegmatic, ass, glass, bass.
Large, but target, gin, give, verging,
Ought, out, joust and scour, scourging.
Ear, but earn and wear and tear
Do not rhyme with here but ere.
Seven is right, but so is even,
Hyphen, roughen, nephew Stephen,
Monkey, donkey, Turk and jerk,
Ask, grasp, wasp, and cork and work.

Pronunciation -- think of Psyche!
Is a paling stout and spikey?
Won't it make you lose your wits,
Writing groats and saying grits?
It's a dark abyss or tunnel:
Strewn with stones, stowed, solace, gunwale,
Islington and Isle of Wight,
Housewife, verdict and indict.

Finally, which rhymes with enough --
Though, through, plough, or dough, or cough?
Hiccough has the sound of cup.
My advice is to give up!!!

(Apparently excerpted from The Chaos by Gerard Nolst Trenité.)

Keeping Christmas by Henry Van Dyke

There is a better thing than the observance of Christmas day, and that is, keeping Christmas.

Are you willing...

to forget what you have done for other people, and to remember what other people have done for you;

to ignore what the world owes you, and to think what you owe the world;

to put your rights in the background, and your duties in the middle distance, and your chances to do a little more than your duty in the foreground;

to see that men and women are just as real as you are, and try to look behind their faces to their hearts, hungry for joy;

to own up to the fact that probably the only good reason for your existence is not what you are going to get out of life, but what you are going to give to life;

to close your book of complaints against the management of the universe, and look around you for a place where you can sow a few seeds of happiness.

Are you willing to do these things even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas.

Are you willing...

to stoop down and consider the needs and desires of little children;

to remember the weakness and loneliness of people growing old;

to stop asking how much your friends love you, and ask yourself whether you love them enough;

to bear in mind the things that other people have to bear in their hearts;

to try to understand what those who live in the same home with you really want, without waiting for them to tell you;

to trim your lamp so that it will give more light and less smoke, and to carry it in front so that your shadow will fall behind you;

to make a grave for your ugly thoughts, and a garden for your kindly feelings, with the gate open—

Are you willing to do these things, even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas.

Are you willing...

to believe that love is the strongest thing in the world—

stronger than hate, stronger than evil, stronger than death—

and that the blessed life which began in Bethlehem "nineteen hundred" years ago is the image and brightness of the Eternal Love?

Then you can keep Christmas.

And if you can keep it for a day, why not always?

But you can never keep it alone.

Autumn In The Garden - Poem by Henry Van Dyke

'Mid the crumpled beds of marigold and phlox,
Where the box
Borders with its glossy green the ancient walks,
There's a voice that talks
Of the human hopes that bloomed and withered here
Year by year,--
Dreams of joy, that brightened all the labouring hours,
Fading as the flowers.

Yet the whispered story does not deepen grief;
But relief
For the loneliness of sorrow seems to flow
From the Long-Ago,
When I think of other lives that learned, like mine,
To resign,
And remember that the sadness of the fall
Comes alike to all.

What regrets, what longings for the lost were theirs!
And what prayers
For the silent strenght that nerves us to endure
Things we cannot cure!
Pacing up and down the garden where they paced,
I have traced
All their well-worn paths of patience, till I find
Comfort in my mind.

Faint and far away their ancient griefs appear:
Yet how near
Is the tender voice, the careworn, kindly face,
Of the human race!
Let us walk together in the garden, dearest heart,
Not apart!
They who know the sorrows other lives have known
Never walk alone.

Henry Van Dyke

A Volunteer's Prayer

"I thank Thee, Lord as a volunteer 

For the chance to serve another year. 

And to give of myself in some small way, 

To those not blessed as I each day.

My thanks for health and mind and soul, 

To aid me ever toward my goal. 

For eyes to see the good in all, 

A hand to extend before a fall. 

For legs to go where the need is great, 

Learning to love—forgetting to hate. 

For ears to hear and heart to care, 

When someone's cross is hard to bear. 

A smile to show my affection true, 

With energy aplenty—the task to do.

And all I ask, dear Lord, if I may, 

Is to serve you better day by day."

Heaven - Poem by George Herbert

Oh who will show me those delights on high!

Echo I

Thou Echo, thou art mortal, all men know.

Echo No

Wert thou not born among the trees and leaves?

Echo Leaves

And are there any leaves, that still abide?

Echo Bide

What leaves are they? Impart the matter wholly.

Echo Holy

Are holy leaves the Echo then of blisse?

Echo Yes

Then tell me, what is that supreme delight?

Echo Light

Light to the minde: what shall the will enjoy?

Echo Joy

But are there cares and business with the pleasure?

Echo Leisure

Light, joy and leisure; but shall they persever?

Echo Ever

Ode a la Esperanza

Ode a la Esperanza

Crepusculo marino,

en medio

de mi vida,

las olas como uvas,

la soledad del cielo,

me llenas

y desbordas,

todo el mar,

todo el cielo,

movimiento

y espacio,

los batallones blancos 

de la espuma,

la tierra anaranjada,

la cintura

incendiada

del sol en agonia,

tantos

dones y dones,

aves

que acuden a sus suenos,

y el mar, el mar,

aroma

suspendido,

coro de sal sonora,

mientras tanto,

nosotros,

los hombres,

junto al agua,

luchando

y esperando

junto al mar,

esperando.

Las olas dicen a la costa firme:

"Todo sera cumplido." 

Pablo Neruda

( By the way, loving an author's poem does not mean one approves his political affiliation per se. A message for my readers: I only like Pablo as a poet.)

Yoga or stretching?

A Footing on this Earth

I sought Him where my logic led.

        "This friend is always sure and right;

        His lantern is sufficient light.

    I need no Star," I said.

    I sought Him in the city square.

        Logic and I went up and down

        The marketplace of many a town,

    But He was never there.

    I tracked Him to the mind's far rim.

        The valiant intellect went forth

        To east and west and south and north,

    But found no trace of Him.

    We walked the world from sun to sun,

        Logic and I, with Little Faith,

        But never came to Nazareth,

    Nor met the Holy One.

    We sought in vain. And finally,

        Back to the heart's small house I crept,

        And fell upon my knees, and wept;

    And Lo! He came to me!

    

Sara Henderson Hay (1906-1987), A Footing on this Earth: Poems, Doubleday, 1966, p. 214