Imagination

Listen to:

Imagination  (1:08)

by John Davidson 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

There is a dish to hold the sea,

  A brazier to contain the sun,

A compass for the galaxy,

  A voice to wake the dead and done!

That minister of ministers,

  Imagination, gathers up

The undiscovered Universe,

  Like jewels in a jasper cup.

  

Its flame can mingle north and south;

  Its accent with the thunder strive;

The ruddy sentence of its mouth

  Can make the ancient dead alive.

The mart of power, the fount of will,

  The form and mould of every star,

The source and bound of good and ill,

  The key of all the things that are,

Imagination, new and strange

  In every age, can turn the year;

Can shift the poles and lightly change

  The mood of men, the world's career.

A Sailor’s Rhyme

Listen to:

A Sailor’s Rhyme (:56)

by Robert Louis Stevenson 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

The wind blew shrill and smart,
And the wind awoke my heart
Again to go a-sailing o'er the sea,
To hear the cordage moan
And the straining timbers groan,
And to see the flying pennon lie a-lee.

O sailor of the fleet,
It is time to stir the feet!
It's time to man the dingy and to row!
It's lay your hand in mine
And it's empty down the wine,
And it's drain a health to death before we go!

To death, my lads, we sail;
And it's death that blows the gale
And death that holds the tiller as we ride.
For he's the king of all
In the tempest and the squall,
And the ruler of the Ocean wild and wide!

Winter-Time

Listen to:

Winter-Time (1:08)

by Robert Louis Stevenson 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Late lies the wintry sun a-bed, 

A frosty, fiery sleepy-head; 

Blinks but an hour or two; and then, 

A blood-red orange, sets again. 



Before the stars have left the skies, 

At morning in the dark I rise; 

And shivering in my nakedness, 

By the cold candle, bathe and dress. 



Close by the jolly fire I sit 

To warm my frozen bones a bit; 

Or with a reindeer-sled, explore 

The colder countries round the door. 



When to go out, my nurse doth wrap 

Me in my comforter and cap; 

The cold wind burns my face, and blows 

Its frosty pepper up my nose. 



Black are my steps on silver sod; 

Thick blows my frosty breath abroad; 

And tree and house, and hill and lake, 

Are frosted like a wedding cake.

Jack Frost

Listen to:

Jack Frost (1:36)

by Gabriel Setoun 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

The door was shut, as doors should be,

Before you went to bed last night;

Yet Jack Frost has got in, you see,

And left your window silver white.
He must have waited till you slept;

And not a single word he spoke,

But pencilled o'er the panes and crept

Away again before you woke.
And now you cannot see the hills

Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane;

But there are fairer things than these

His fingers traced on every pane.
Rocks and castles towering high;

Hills and dales, and streams and fields;

And knights in armor riding by,

With nodding plumes and shining shields.
And here are little boats, and there

Big ships with sails spread to the breeze;

And yonder, palm trees waving fair

On islands set in silver seas,
And butterflies with gauzy wings;

And herds of cows and flocks of sheep;

And fruit and flowers and all the things

You see when you are sound asleep.
For, creeping softly underneath

The door when all the lights are out,

Jack Frost takes every breath you breathe,

And knows the things you think about.
He paints them on the window-pane

In fairy lines with frozen steam;

And when you wake you see again

The lovely things you saw in dream.