To the Mocking-Bird

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To the Mocking-Bird (1:09)

by Richard Henry Wilde (1789–1847)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Winged mimic of the woods! thou motley fool!
  Who shall thy gay buffoonery describe?
Thine ever ready notes of ridicule
  Pursue thy fellows still with jest and gibe.
  Wit, sophist, songster, Yorick of thy tribe,
Thou sportive satirist of Nature’s school,
  To thee the palm of scoffing we ascribe,
Arch-mocker and mad Abbot of Misrule!
  For such thou art by day—but all night long
Thou pourest a soft, sweet, pensive, solemn strain,
  As if thou didst in this thy moonlight song
Like to the melancholy Jacques complain,
  Musing on falsehood, folly, vice, and wrong,
And sighing for thy motley coat again.

The Tortoise and the Hare

Listen to:

The Tortoise and the Hare (1:01)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

To the shy hare the tortoise smiling spoke,
When he about her feet began to joke:
"I'll pass thee by, though fleeter than the gale."
"Pooh!" said the hare, "I don't believe thy tale.
Try but one course, and thou my speed shalt know."
"Who'll fix the prize, and whither we shall go?"
Of the fleet-footed hare the tortoise asked.
To whom he answered, "Reynard shall be tasked
With this; that subtle fox, whom thou dost see."
The tortoise then (no hesitater she!)
Kept jogging on, but earliest reached the post;
The hare, relying on his fleetness, lost
Space, during sleep, he thought he could recover
When he awoke. But then the race was over;
The tortoise gained her aim, and slept her sleep.
From negligence doth care the vantage reap.

The Lamp

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The Lamp (:32)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

A lamp that swam with oil, began to boast
At eve, that it outshone the starry host,
And gave more light to all. Her boast was heard:
Soon the wind whistled; soon the breezes stirred,
And quenched its light. A man rekindled it,
And said, "Brief is the faint lamp's boasting fit,
But the starlight ne'er needs to be re-lit."

The Woman and Her Maid-Servants

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The Woman and Her Maid-Servants (:54)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

A very careful dame, of busy way,
Kept maids at home, and these, ere break of day,
She used to raise as early as cock-crow.
They thought 'twas hard to be awakened so,
And o'er wool-spinning be at work so long;
Hence grew within them all a purpose strong
To kill the house-cock, whom they thought to blame
For all their wrongs. But no advantage came;
Worse treatment than the former them befell:
For when the hour their mistress could not tell
At which by night the cock was wont to crow,
She roused them earlier, to their work to go.
A harder lot the wretched maids endured.
Bad judgment oft hath such results procured.

The Pine

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The Pine (:39)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Some woodmen, bent a forest pine to split,
Into each fissure sundry wedges fit,
To keep the void and render work more light.
Out groaned the pine, "Why should I vent my spite
Against the axe which never touched my root,
So much as these cursed wedges, mine own fruit;
Which rend me through, inserted here and there!"
A fable this, intended to declare
That not so dreadful is a stranger's blow
As wrongs which men receive from those they know.

The Husbandman and the Stork

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The Husbandman and the Stork (:58)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Thin nets a farmer o'er his furrows spread,
And caught the cranes that on his tillage fed;
And him a limping stork began to pray,
Who fell with them into the farmer's way:--
"I am no crane: I don't consume the grain:
That I'm a stork is from my color plain;
A stork, than which no better bird doth live;
I to my father aid and succor give."
The man replied:--"Good stork, I cannot tell
Your way of life: but this I know full well,
I caught you with the spoilers of my seed;
With them, with whom I found you, you must bleed."
Walk with the bad, and hate will be as strong
'Gainst you as them, e'en though you no man wrong.

The Nightingale and the Swallow

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The Nightingale and the Swallow (1:52)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Far from men's fields the swallow forth had flown,
When she espied amid the woodlands lone
The nightingale, sweet songstress. Her lament
Was Itys to his doom untimely sent.
Each knew the other through the mournful strain,
Flew to embrace, and in sweet talk remain.
Then said the swallow, "Dearest, liv'st thou still?
Ne'er have I seen thee, since thy Thracian ill.
Some cruel fate hath ever come between;
Our virgin lives till now apart have been.
Come to the fields; revisit homes of men;
Come dwell with me, a comrade dear, again,
Where thou shalt charm the swains, no savage brood:
Dwell near men's haunts, and quit the open wood:
One roof, one chamber, sure, can house the two,
Or dost prefer the nightly frozen dew,
And day-god's heat? a wild-wood life and drear?
Come, clever songstress, to the light more near."
To whom the sweet-voiced nightingale replied:--
"Still on these lonesome ridges let me bide;
Nor seek to part me from the mountain glen:--
I shun, since Athens, man, and haunts of men;
To mix with them, their dwelling-place to view,
Stirs up old grief, and opens woes anew."
Some consolation for an evil lot
Lies in wise words, in song, in crowds forgot.
But sore the pang, when, where you once were great,
Again men see you, housed in mean estate.

The Arab and the Camel

IMAGE
Listen to:

The Arab and the Camel (:17)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

An Arab, having heaped his camel's back,
Asked if he chose to take the upward track
Or downward; and the beast had sense to say
"Am I cut off then from the level way?"

The Young Cocks

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The Young Cocks (:46)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Two Tanagraean cocks a fight began;
Their spirit is, 'tis said, as that of man:
Of these the beaten bird, a mass of blows,
For shame into a corner creeping goes;
The other to the housetop quickly flew,
And there in triumph flapped his wings and crew.
But him an eagle lifted from the roof,
And bore away. His fellow gained a proof
That oft the wages of defeat are best,--
None else remained the hens to interest.
WHEREFORE, O man, beware of boastfulness:
Should fortune lift thee, others to depress,
Many are saved by lack of her caress.

The Carter and Hercules

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The Carter and Hercules (:31)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

A carter from the village drove his wain:
And when it fell into a rugged lane,
Inactive stood, nor lent a helping hand;
But to that god, whom of the heavenly band
He really honored most, Alcides, prayed:
"Push at your wheels," the god appearing said,
"And goad your team; but when you pray again,
Help yourself likewise, or you'll pray in vain."

The Fox and the Grapes

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The Fox and the Grapes (:30)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

There hung some bunches of the purple grape
On a hillside. A cunning fox, agape
For these full clusters, many times essayed
To cull their dark bloom, many vain leaps made.
They were quite ripe, and for the vintage fit;
But when his leaps did not avail a whit,
He journeyed on, and thus his grief composed:--
"The bunch was sour, not ripe, as I supposed."

The Mouse That Fell into the Pot

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The Mouse That Fell into the Pot (:27)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

A mouse into a lidless broth-pot fell;
Choked with the grease, and bidding life farewell,
He said, "My fill of meat and drink have I
And all good things: 'Tis time that I should die."
Thou art that dainty mouse among mankind,
If hurtful sweets are not by thee declined.

Jupiter and the Monkey

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Jupiter and the Monkey  (:42)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

A baby-show with prizes Jove decreed
For all the beasts, and gave the choice due heed.
A monkey-mother came among the rest;
A naked, snub-nosed pug upon her breast
She bore, in mother's fashion. At the sight
Assembled gods were moved to laugh outright.
Said she, "Jove knoweth where his prize will fall!
I know my child's the beauty of them all."
This fable will a general law attest,
That each one deems that what's his own, is best.

The North Wind and the Sun

Listen to:

The North Wind and the Sun (1:06)

by Babrius

turned into English metre by James Davies, M.A. (1860)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Betwixt the North wind and the Sun arose
A contest, which would soonest of his clothes
Strip a wayfaring clown, so runs the tale.
First, Boreas blows an almost Thracian gale,
Thinking, perforce, to steal the man's capote:
He loosed it not; but as the cold wind smote
More sharply, tighter round him drew the folds,
And sheltered by a crag his station holds.
But now the Sun at first peered gently forth,
And thawed the chills of the uncanny North;
Then in their turn his beams more amply plied,
Till sudden heat the clown's endurance tried;
Stripping himself, away his cloak he flung:
The Sun from Boreas thus a triumph wrung.
The fable means, "My son, at mildness aim:
Persuasion more results than force may claim."

Happy the Man

Listen to:

Happy the Man (:33)

by Horace (translation by John Dryden)

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Book III of Odes

Ode 29, section 8

 Happy the man, and happy he alone,

 He who can call today his own:

 He who, secure within, can say,

 Tomorrow do thy worst, for I have lived today.

 Be fair or foul or rain or shine

 The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine.

 Not Heaven itself upon the past has power,

 But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour.

Ulysses (II)

Listen to:

Ulysses (II) (1:50)

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:

    There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners,

    Souls that have toiled, and wrought, and thought

            with me—

    That ever with a frolic welcome took

    The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed

    Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;

    Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;

    Death closes all: but something ere the end,

    Some work of noble note, may yet be done,

    Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.

    The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:

    The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep

    Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,

    'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

    Push off, and sitting well in order smite

    The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds

    To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

    Of all the western stars, until I die.

    It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:

    It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,

    And see the great Achilles, whom we knew

    Though much is taken, much abides; and though

    We are not now that strength which in old days

    Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;

    One equal temper of heroic hearts,

    Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

    To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Hyades - a constellation of stars associated with rain

The Happy Isles -  the Elysian Fields, believed by some to be the resting place of heroes after death;

Song to the Heliconian Muses

Listen to:

Song to the Heliconian Muses (1:59)

from Theogony

by Hesiod

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

In ancient Greece, the other most popular poet to rhapsodize, after the divine Homer, was Hesiod, whose birthday we celebrate today. Here is the opening to Theogony, Hesiod’s account of the birth of the gods. It appropriately enough begins with an account of the Muses, who inspire poets as poets inspire rhapsodes:

Of the Heliconian Muses let us begin to sing,

who hold the great and holy mount of Helicon,

and dance on soft feet about the deep-blue spring

and the altar of the almighty son of Cronos,

and, when they have washed their tender bodies,

they make their fair, lovely dances upon highest Helicon

and move with vigorous feet.

From there, they arise and go abroad by night,

veiled in thick mist,

and utter their song with lovely voice,

praising Zeus the aegis-bearer

and queenly Hera of Argos

who walks on golden sandals

and the daughter of Zeus the aegis-bearer – bright-eyed Athene,

and Phoebus Apollo, and Artemis who delights in arrows,

and Poseidon the earth-bearer who shakes the earth,

and quick-glancing Aphrodite,

and the holy race of all the other deathless ones that are for ever. 

And one day they taught Hesiod glorious song

while he was shepherding his lambs under holy Helicon,

and this word first the goddesses said to me –

the Muses of Olympus,

daughters of Zeus who bears the aegis:

“Shepherds of the wilderness,

wretched things of shame, mere bellies,

we know how to speak many false things

as though they were true;

but we know, when we will,

to utter true things.”

So said the ready-voiced daughters of great Zeus,

and they plucked and gave me a rod,

a shoot of sturdy laurel, a marvellous thing,

and breathed into me a divine voice

to celebrate things that shall be

and things there were in the past;

and they bade me sing

of the race of the blessed gods that are eternally,

but ever to sing of themselves both first and last.

I Love the Brooks

Listen to: 

I Love the Brooks (:41)

by William Wordsworth

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Excerpt from Ode: Intimations of Immortality

I love the brooks which down their channels fret,           

Even more than when I tripp'd lightly as they; 

The innocent brightness of a new-born Day       

            Is lovely yet;           

The clouds that gather round the setting sun     

Do take a sober colouring from an eye  

That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality;       

Another race hath been, and other palms are won.           

Thanks to the human heart by which we live,    

Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears,       

To me the meanest flower that blows can give  

Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.