Seasons

"Wyrd is mightiest, winter is coldest,
Spring is frostiest, longest cold;
Summer is sunniest, sun is hottest,
Autumn most glorious giving to man
The fruits of the year that God brings forth."

From: Cotton MS. Maxims
which is contained in--
an anthology of Old English Poety
translated by Charles W. Kennedy

I just finished reading Persuasion by Jane Austin
for the manyeth time. I was out of sorts from
reading (sometimes just skimming) too many random
books from the library shelves. I needed a dose of
elegant minds and sane conversations.

I also am in the midst of a three day headache and
so between those two happenings (Persuasion and the
headache) imagine my delight when yesterday I found
this at Buried Treasure Books (along with some verses
about Jane Austin by authors Chesterton and Kipling).

When Stretch’d on One’s Bed
by Jane Austen

When stretch’d on one’s bed
With a fierce-throbbing head,
Which precludes alike thought or repose,
How little one cares
For the grandest affairs
That may busy the world as it goes!

How little one feels
For the waltzes and reels
Of our Dance-loving friends at a Ball!
How slight one’s concern
To conjecture or learn
What their flounces or hearts may befall.

How little one minds
If a company dines
On the best that the Season affords!
How short is one’s muse
O’er the Sauces and Stews,
Or the Guests, be they Beggars or Lords.

How little the Bells,
Ring they Peels, toll they Knells,
Can attract our attention or Ears!
The Bride may be married,
The Corse may be carried
And touch nor our hopes nor our fears.

Our own bodily pains
Ev’ry faculty chains;
We can feel on no subject besides.
Tis in health and in ease
We the power must seize
For our friends and our souls to provide.

Chrysalis in a comment on this post asked me a
question about English Literature. I am no great
expert on this genre, but I have always enjoyed
English writers. There is a steadiness and rooted-
ness that makes one feel at home. (And of course
they make me hungry for cucumber sandwiches and
tea with cream.)

Here is a list of English writers I have read and
truly enjoyed.

Rudyard Kipling (My veriest most favorite are
the Just So Stories...great read-
alouds)
Charlotte Bronte (Dark and gloomy)
Emily Bronte (I'm ready to re-read Jane Eyre as soon
as I get to the last page)
Jane Austin (Who doesn't love the flow of conversation
in her books?)
Dorothy Sayers (Lord Peter Wimsey is phenomenal, she
also wrote apologetics, but I've not
read any)
Miss Read (The penultimate in picturing village life)
Dame Agatha Christie (Mystery writer extraordinaire)
Charle Dickens (From Great Expectations to A Tale of
Two Cities he shines)
Shakespeare ('nuff said)
C.S. Lewis (I love both his fiction and non-fiction,
try out his Space Trilogy for a new twist)
J.R.R. Tolkein (I've been a fan of his for about 30 years,
it's a good thing I can't remember who I
lent the Silmarillion to, because I might
never have forgiven them for not giving it
back)
George McDonald (His romances and his children's books are
good)
A.A. Milne (I love his poetry books for children, as well
as the Winnie the Pooh books)
James Herriot (He has probably caused more people to become
veterinarians than anyone else)
G.K Chesterton (Mystery and apologetics)
Beatrix Potter (Silly rabbit!)
Edward Lear (Nonsense anyone?)
Lewis Carrol (Everybody needs a dose of Alice)
Robert Lewis Stevenson (Adventure, poetry, he does it all)
Arthur Conan Doyle (Sherlock Holmes to the rescue)
Baroness Orczy (The Scarlet Pimpernel...amazing story)
John Bunyan (Pilgrim's Progress)

I can't even begin to list them all; I see I've almost
totally negelected the poets: William Blake, Robert Burns,
Wordsworth, Shelly, Tennyson etc.

Here is a very comprehensive list of English Writers.