Philomela / Philip Sidney

Philomela

The Nightingale, as soon as April bringeth
    Unto her rested sense a perfect waking,
While late-bare Earth, proud of new clothing, springeth,
    Sings out her woes, a thorn her song-book making;
            And mournfully bewailing,
            Her throat in tunes expresseth
            What grief her breast oppresseth,
For Tereus' force on her chaste will prevailing.

    O Philomela fair, O take some gladness
    That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness!
            Thine earth now springs, mine fadeth;
    Thy thorn without, my thorn my heart invadeth.

Alas! she hath no other cause of anguish
    But Tereus' love, on her by strong hand wroken;
Wherein she suffering, all her spirits languish,
    Full womanlike complains her will was broken
            But I, who, daily craving,
            Cannot have to content me,
            Have more cause to lament me,
Since wanting is more woe than too much having.

    O Philomela fair, O take some gladness
    That here is juster cause of plaintful sadness!
            Thine earth now springs, mine fadeth;
    Thy thorn without, my thorn my heart invadeth.

~~
Philip Sidney (1554-1586)
from the Oxford Book of English Verse, 1900

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Philip Sidney biography

"Philomela" read by Algie Pack. Courtesy PoemsCafe.

[See also: "Philomel" by Richard Barnfield]

Penny's Top 20 / March 2019

Penny's Top 20
The most-visited poems on  The Penny Blog in March 2019:

  1.  February's Forgotten Mitts, Raymond Knister
  2.  A March Snow, Ella Wheeler Wilcox
  3.  Moonlight Alert, Yvor Winters
  4.  Winter, Walter de la Mare
  5.  Desert Places, Robert Frost
  6.  Esthetique du Mal, Wallace Stevens
  7.  The Spring in Ireland: 1916, James Stephens
  8.  You came, the vernal equinox, H.C. Beeching
  9.  Written in March, William Wordsworth
10.  The March Orchard, Ethelwyn Wetherald 

11.  Welcome to Spring, Ring Lardner
12.  February Twilight, Sara Teasdale
13.  Self-Criticism in February, Robinson Jeffers
14.  Jonah, AE Reiff
15.  Last Week in October, Thomas Hardy
16.  Songs, Demonspawn
17.  The Night Piece, to Julia, Robert Herrick
18.  Chaos in Motion and Not in Motion, Wallace Stevens
19.  The Dwarf, Wallace Stevens
20.  January Morning, William Carlos Williams

Source: Blogger, "Stats"

Trade deal sneaks in 20-year copyright extension

Unfortunately, this is not an April Fool's joke; I blogged about it on my politics blog, GDs Political Animal, yesterday. From the post:

"The US-Mexico-Canada Agreement USMCA, touted by US president Donald Trump as a 'great deal for all three countries', is a reorganisation of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and will shape trade and IP relations between the three countries for years to come....

 "In relation to copyright, Paul Smith, senior partner at Smiths IP, remarks that under USMCA, the extension of the copyright terms from the life of the author +50 years will become the life of the author +70 years.... "
http://gdspoliticalanimal.blogspot.com/2019/03/canadian-copyright-extension-buried-in.html

As I commented about it on Usenet today: "It's terrible news for Penny's Poetry Blog. I founded the blog ... to publish public domain poetry, with an eye on works that were p.d. in Canada but not in the U.S. or UK - so there'd be unique poetry on the site. (In March, eg, I blogged Robert Frost's 'Desert Places' and Yvor Winters' 'Moonlight Alert.') If the change is retroactive, like the UK copyright extension, all of that work will have to come off the blog.

 "That's unlikely, as a retroactive criminalization would violate Section 11 of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. But even if it's only done by a 20-year extension on copyrighted works, the way it was done in the U.S., that will still hurt. All the works by authors who died after 1968 - from Ezra Pound to Jack Kerouac - will still be in copyright when I'm 86!...

 "The USMCA comes up for ratification in Congress this spring. So far Parliament hasn't scheduled a debate, the government telling the U.S. it won't until the Trump tariffs on our steel and aluminum come off; and if it's not passed by June, it won't be until after the October election - so there's some time to get something done."

 I would like to make stopping (or at least minimizing the damage of) this copyright extension, my priority over the spring. If anyone has any ideas of how to proceed, or contacts with organizations that also oppose the copyright extension, please forward them to me; either by commenting here or by contacting me at georgedance04@yahoo.ca.

Thank you for your support.

Sincerely
George J. Dance

Welcome to Spring / Ring Lardner

Welcome to Spring

Spring, you are welcome, for you are the friend of
Fathers of all little girlies and chaps.
Spring, you are welcome, for you mean the end of
Bundling them up in their cold-weather wraps.

Breathes there a parent of masculine gender,
One whose young hopeful is seven or less,
Who never has cursed the designer and vender
Of juvenile-out-of-doors-winter-time dress?

Leggings and overcoat, rubbers that squeeze on,
Mittens and sweater a trifle too small;
Not in the lot is one thing you can ease on,
One that's affixed with no trouble at all.

Spring, you are welcome, thrice welcome to father;
Not for your flowers and birds, I'm afraid,
As much as your promised relief from the bother
Of bundling the kid for the daily parade.

~~
Ring Lardner (1885-1933)
from Bib Ballads, 1915

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Ring Lardner biography

"Welcome to Spring" read by Jack Thro for LibriVox. Courtesy LibriVox Audiobooks.

(Poem begins at 14:25)

The March Orchard / Ethelwyn Wetherald

The March Orchard

Unleaved, undrooping, still, they stand,
This stanch and patient pilgrim band;
October robbed them of their fruit,
November stripped them to the root,
The winter smote their helplessness
With furious ire and stormy stress,
And now they seem almost to stand
In sight of Summer’s Promised Land.

Yet seen through frosty window-panes,
When bared and bound in wintry chains,
Their lightsome spirits seemed to play
With February as with May.
The snow that turned the skies afrown
Enwrapt them in the softest down,
And rains that dulled the landscape o’er
But left them livelier than before.

But now this June-like day of March
With patient strength their branches arch,
Not as unmindful of the breeze
That makes midsummer melodies,
But knowing Spring a fickle maid,
And that rough days must dawn and fade
Before, all blossoming bright, they stand
In sight of Summer’s Promised Land.

~~
Ethelwyn Wetherald (1857-1940)
from The House of the Trees, and other poems, 1895

[Poem is in the public domain in Canada, the United States, and the European Union]

Ethelwyn Wetherald biography

"The March Orchard" read by Roger Melin for LibriVox. Courtesy LibriVox Audiobooks.

(Poem begins at 17:29)

Written in March / William Wordsworth

Written in March 

(while resting on the bridge at the foot of Brother's Water)

  The cock is crowing,
  The stream is flowing,
  The small birds twitter,
  The lake doth glitter,
The green field sleeps in the sun;
  The oldest and youngest
  Are at work with the strongest;
  The cattle are grazing,
  Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one!

  Like an army defeated
  The snow hath retreated,
  And now doth fare ill
  On the top of the bare hill;
The ploughboy is whooping — anon — anon
  There’s joy on the mountains;
  There’s life in the fountains;
  Small clouds are sailing,
  Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone!

~~
William Wordsworth (1770-1850), 1819
from Complete Poetical Works, 1888

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

William Wordsworth biography

You came, the vernal equinox / H.C. Beeching

from In a Garden

          II

You came, the vernal equinox
     Brought on the solstice in a day;
Crocuses in their beds of box
     Straight changed to tulips, striped and gay.

You went, and summer fled with you;
     'Twas autumn, nay 'twas winter here;
Cold winds drove snow-clouds up the blue
     And bared the disenchanted year.

Idly I mourn, or idly go
     Thro' all the wan dishevelled place,
In hope some one red rose may blow
     The harbinger of your sweet face.

~~
H.C. Beeching (1859-1919)
from In a Garden, and other poems, 1895

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

H.C. Beeching biography