Night

Listen to:

Night (:31)

by Francis William Bourdillon 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies,
When love is done. 

The Fairies Dancing 1873

Listen to:

The Fairies Dancing (1:21)

by Walter de la Mare 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Walter de la Mare was born this day in 1873

I heard along the early hills,

  Ere yet the lark was risen up,

Ere yet the dawn with firelight fills

  The night-dew of the bramble-cup,--

I heard the fairies in a ring

  Sing as they tripped a lilting round

Soft as the moon on wavering wing.

  The starlight shook as if with sound,

As if with echoing, and the stars

  Prankt their bright eyes with trembling gleams;

While red with war the gusty Mars

  Rained upon earth his ruddy beams.

He shone alone, low down the West,

  While I, behind a hawthorn-bush,

Watched on the fairies flaxen-tressed

  The fires of the morning flush.

Till, as a mist, their beauty died,

  Their singing shrill and fainter grew;

And daylight tremulous and wide

  Flooded the moorland through and through;

Till Urdon's copper weathercock

  Was reared in golden flame afar,

And dim from moonlit dreams awoke

  The towers and groves of Arroar.

A-Roving

Listen to:

A-Roving (:43)

by George Gordon, Lord Byron 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

So, we'll go no more a-roving

   So late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,

   And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,

   And the soul wears out the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

   And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,

   And the day returns too soon,

Yet we'll go no more a-roving

   By the light of the moon.

In a Vale

Listen to:

In a Vale (1:23)

by Robert Frost 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Robert Frost was born this day in 1874

    When I was young, we dwelt in a vale

    By a misty fen that rang all night,

    And thus it was the maidens pale

    I knew so well, whose garments trail

    Across the reeds to a window light.

    The fen had every kind of bloom,

    And for every kind there was a face,

    And a voice that has sounded in my room

    Across the sill from the outer gloom.

    Each came singly unto her place,

    But all came every night with the mist;

    And often they brought so much to say

    Of things of moment to which, they wist,

    One so lonely was fain to list,

    That the stars were almost faded away

    Before the last went, heavy with dew,

    Back to the place from which she came—

    Where the bird was before it flew,

    Where the flower was before it grew,

    Where bird and flower were one and the same.

    And thus it is I know so well

    Why the flower has odor, the bird has song.

    You have only to ask me, and I can tell.

    No, not vainly there did I dwell,

    Nor vainly listen all the night long.

from A Boy's Will

First published by David Nutt of London in 1913

Death

Listen to:

Death (2:07)

by Walt Whitman 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

from Song of Myself

49

And as to you Death, and you bitter hug of mortality, it is idle to

    try to alarm me.

To his work without flinching the accoucheur  comes,

I see the elder-hand pressing receiving supporting,

I recline by the sills of the exquisite flexible doors,

And mark the outlet, and mark the relief and escape.

And as to you Corpse I think you are good manure, but that does not

    offend me,

I smell the white roses sweet-scented and growing,

I reach to the leafy lips, I reach to the polish'd breasts of melons.

And as to you Life I reckon you are the leavings of many deaths,

(No doubt I have died myself ten thousand times before.)

I hear you whispering there O stars of heaven,

O suns--O grass of graves--O perpetual transfers and promotions,

If you do not say any thing how can I say any thing?

Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn forest,

Of the moon that descends the steeps of the soughing twilight,

Toss, sparkles of day and dusk--toss on the black stems that decay

    in the muck,

Toss to the moaning gibberish of the dry limbs.

I ascend from the moon, I ascend from the night,

I perceive that the ghastly glimmer is noonday sunbeams reflected,

And debouch to the steady and central from the offspring great or small.

The Lighted Window

Listen to:

The Lighted Window (1:21)

by Sara Teasdale 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

He said:
“In the winter dusk
When the pavements were gleaming with rain,
I walked thru a dingy street
Hurried, harassed,
Thinking of all my problems that never are solved.
Suddenly out of the mist, a flaring gas-jet
Shone from a huddled shop.
I saw thru the bleary window
A mass of playthings:
False-faces hung on strings,
Valentines, paper and tinsel,
Tops of scarlet and green,
Candy, marbles, jacks—
A confusion of color
Pathetically gaudy and cheap.
All of my boyhood
Rushed back.
Once more these things were treasures
Wildly desired.
With covetous eyes I looked again at the marbles,
The precious agates, the pee-wees, the chinies—
Then I passed on.

In the winter dusk,
The pavements were gleaming with rain;
There in the lighted window
I left my boyhood.”

What the Thrush Said

Wood Thrush photo by Bob Gress birdsinfocus.com

Listen to:

What the Thrush Said (1:02)

by John Keats 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

O Thou whose face hath felt the Winter’s wind,
Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist,
And the black elm tops ’mong the freezing stars,
To thee the spring will be a harvest-time.
O thou, whose only book has been the light
Of supreme darkness which thou feddest on
Night after night when Phœbus was away,
To thee the Spring shall be a triple morn.
O fret not after knowledge—I have none,
And yet my song comes native with the warmth.
O fret not after knowledge—I have none,
And yet the Evening listens. He who saddens
At the thought of idleness cannot be idle,
And he’s awake who thinks himself asleep.

O, Mickle is the Powerful Grace

Listen to:

O, Mickle is the Powerful Grace (1:08)

by William Shakespeare 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies

In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:

For nought so vile that on the earth doth live

But to the earth some special good doth give,

Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use

Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:

Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;

And vice sometimes by action dignified.

Within the infant rind of this small flower

Poison hath residence and medicine power:

For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;

Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.

Two such opposed kings encamp them still

In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;

And where the worser is predominant,

Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.

Friar Laurence

Romeo and Juliet Act II, Scene iii, lines 15-31

The Grey-Eyed Morn Smiles

Listen to:

The Grey-Eyed Morn Smiles (:55)

by William Shakespeare 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,

Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,

And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels

From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels:

Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,

The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,

I must up-fill this osier cage of ours

With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.

The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb;

What is her burying grave that is her womb,

And from her womb children of divers kind

We sucking on her natural bosom find,

Many for many virtues excellent,

None but for some and yet all different.

FRIAR LAURENCE

Romeo and Juliet, Act II, scene iii, lines 1-14

Excelsior

Listen to:

Excelsior (2:20)

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

The shades of night were falling fast,  

As through an Alpine village passed  

A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,  

A banner with the strange device,  

        Excelsior!          

  

His brow was sad; his eye beneath,  

Flashed like a falchion from its sheath,  

And like a silver clarion rung  

The accents of that unknown tongue,  

        Excelsior!  

  

In happy homes he saw the light  

Of household fires gleam warm and bright;  

Above, the spectral glaciers shone,  

And from his lips escaped a groan,  

        Excelsior!  

  

"Try not the Pass!" the old man said;  

"Dark lowers the tempest overhead,  

The roaring torrent is deep and wide!"  

And loud that clarion voice replied,  

        Excelsior!  

  

"Oh, stay," the maiden said, "and rest  

Thy weary head upon this breast!"  

A tear stood in his bright blue eye,  

But still he answered, with a sigh,  

        Excelsior!  

  

"Beware the pine-tree's withered branch!  

Beware the awful avalanche!"  

This was the peasant's last Good-night,  

A voice replied, far up the height,  

        Excelsior!  

  

At break of day, as heavenward  

The pious monks of Saint Bernard  

Uttered the oft-repeated prayer,  

A voice cried through the startled air,  

        Excelsior!  

  

A traveller, by the faithful hound,  

Half-buried in the snow was found,  

Still grasping in his hand of ice  

That banner with the strange device,  

        Excelsior!  

  

There, in the twilight cold and gray,  

Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay,  

And from the sky, serene and far,  

A voice fell, like a falling star,  

        Excelsior!  

The Glow-Worm

Listen to:

The Glow-Worm (1:20)

by William Wordsworth 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

          Among all lovely things my Love had been;

          Had noted well the stars, all flowers that grew

          About her home; but she had never seen

          A glow-worm, never one, and this I knew.

          While riding near her home one stormy night

          A single glow-worm did I chance to espy;

          I gave a fervent welcome to the sight,

          And from my horse I leapt; great joy had I.

          Upon a leaf the glow-worm did I lay,

          To bear it with me through the stormy night:                

          And, as before, it shone without dismay;

          Albeit putting forth a fainter light.

          When to the dwelling of my Love I came,

          I went into the orchard quietly;

          And left the glow-worm, blessing it by name,

          Laid safely by itself, beneath a tree.

          The whole next day, I hoped, and hoped with fear;

          At night the glow-worm shone beneath the tree;

          I led my Lucy to the spot, "Look here,"

          Oh! joy it was for her, and joy for me!     

                

                                                              1802.

Lucifer in Starlight

Listen to:

Lucifer in Starlight (1:01)

by George Meredith 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

  

On a starr'd night Prince Lucifer uprose.  

  Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend  

  Above the rolling ball in cloud part screen'd,  

Where sinners hugg'd their spectre of repose.  

Poor prey to his hot fit of pride were those.          

  And now upon his western wing he lean'd,  

  Now his huge bulk o'er Afric's sands careen'd,  

Now the black planet shadow'd Arctic snows.  

Soaring through wider zones that prick'd his scars  

  With memory of the old revolt from Awe,  

He reach'd a middle height, and at the stars,  

Which are the brain of heaven, he look'd, and sank.  

Around the ancient track march'd, rank on rank,  

  The army of unalterable law.

Clouds

Listen to:

Clouds (1:08)

by Rupert Brooke 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

   

Down the blue night the unending columns press
In noiseless tumult, break and wave and flow,
Now tread the far South, or lift rounds of snow
Up to the white moon's hidden loveliness.

Some pause in their grave wandering comradeless,
And turn with profound gesture vague and slow,
As who would pray good for the world, but know
Their benediction empty as they bless.

They say that the Dead die not, but remain
Near to the rich heirs of their grief and mirth.
I think they ride the calm mid-heaven, as these,
In wise majestic melancholy train,
And watch the moon, and the still-raging seas,
And men, coming and going on the earth.

Huge Vapours Brood Above the Clifted Shore

Listen to:

Huge Vapours Brood Above the Clifted Shore (1:01)

by Charlotte Smith 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Huge vapours brood above the clifted shore,
Night o'er the ocean settles, dark and mute,
Save where is heard the repercussive roar
Of drowsy billows, on the rugged foot
Of rocks remote; or still more distant tone
Of seamen, in the anchored bark, that tell
The watch relieved; or one deep voice alone,
Singing the hour, and bidding "strike the bell."
All is black shadow, but the lucid line
Marked by the light surf on the level sand,
Or where afar, the ship-lights faintly shine
Like wandering fairy fires, that oft on land
Mislead the pilgrim; such the dubious ray
That wavering reason lends, in life's long darkling way.

Fabliau of Florida

Listen to:

Fabliau of Florida (:38)

by Wallace Stevens 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Barque of phosphor
On the palmy beach,

Move outward into heaven,
Into the alabasters
And night blues.

Foam and cloud are one.
Sultry moon-monsters
Are dissolving.

Fill your black hull
With white moonlight.

There will never be an end
To this droning of the surf.

To the Moon

Listen to:

To the Moon (1:03)

by Charlotte Smith 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Queen of the silver bow!--by thy pale beam
Alone and pensive, I delight to stray,
And watch thy shadow trembling in the stream,
Or mark the floating clouds that cross thy way.
And while I gaze, thy mild and placid light
Sheds a soft calm upon my troubled breast;
And oft I think--fair planet of the night--
That in thy orb, the wretched may have rest:
The sufferers of the earth perhaps may go,
Released by Death--to thy benignant sphere,
And the sad children of Despair and Woe
Forget, in thee, their cup of sorrow here.
Oh! that I soon may reach thy world serene,
Poor wearied pilgrim--in this toiling scene!

A Thrush in the Moonlight

Listen to:

A Thrush in the Moonlight (:53)

by Witter Bynner

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

In came the moon and covered me with wonder,
Touched me and was near me and made me very still.
In came a rush of song, like rain after thunder,
Pouring importunate on my window-sill.

I lowered my head, I hid it, I would not see nor hear,
The birdsong had stricken me, had brought the moon too near.
But when I dared to lift my head, night began to fill
With singing in the darkness. And then the thrush grew still.
  And the moon came in, and silence, on my window-sill.

To the Evening Star

Listen to:

To the Evening Star (1:08)

by William Blake

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Thou fair-hair'd angel of the evening,

Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light

Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown

Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!

Smile on our loves, and while thou drawest the

Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew

On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes

In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on

The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,

And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon,

Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,

And the lion glares thro' the dun forest:

The fleeces of our flocks are cover'd with

Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine influence.

Nightfall

Listen to:

Nightfall (:30)

by Martin Schutze

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

To Night

Listen to:

To Night (1:17)

by Joseph Blanco White

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Mysterious Night! when our first parent knew
Thee from report divine, and heard thy name,
Did he not tremble for this lovely frame,
This glorious canopy of light and blue?
Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew,
Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame,
Hesperus with the host of heaven came,
And lo! Creation widened in man's view.
Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed
Within thy beams, O Sun! or who could find,
Whilst fly and leaf and insect stood revealed,
That to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind!
Why do we then shun Death with anxious strife?
If Light can thus deceive, wherefore not Life?