Song on May Morning

Listen to:

Song on May Morning (:47)

by John Milton 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Now the bright morning Star, Dayes harbinger,

  Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her

  The Flowry May, who from her green lap throws

The yellow Cowslip, and the pale Primrose.

  Hail bounteous May that dost inspire 

  Mirth and youth, and warm desire,

  Woods and Groves, are of thy dressing,

  Hill and Dale, doth boast thy blessing.

Thus we salute thee with our early Song,

And welcome thee, and wish thee long.  

I Strode Along My Beaches

Listen to:

 I Strode Along My Beaches (:59)

by Wallace Stevens 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Sonnet

'I strode along my beaches...'

John Morris 2nd pseud.

Havard Monthly, XXVIII, 5, Jul 1899, 188 Not found online

I strode along my beaches like a sea,

The sand before me stretching firm and fair;

No inland darkness cast its shadow there

And my long step was gloriously free.

The careless wind was happy company

That hurried past and did not question where;

Yet as I moved I felt a deep despair

And wonder of the thoughts that came to me.

For to my face the deep wind brought the scent

Of flowers I could not see upon the strand;

And in the sky a silent cloud was blent

With dreams of my soul's stillness; and the sand,

That had been naught to me, now trembled far

In mystery beneath the evening star.

The Roundel

Listen to:

The Roundel (:56)

by Algernon Charles Swinburne

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Algernon Charles Swindburne was born this day in 1837

A roundel is wrought as a ring or a starbright sphere,

      With craft of delight and with cunning of sound unsought,

That the heart of the hearer may smile if to pleasure his ear

      A roundel is wrought.

Its jewel of music is carven of all or of aught—

      Love, laughter, or mourning—remembrance of rapture or fear—

That fancy may fashion to hang in the ear of thought.

As a bird's quick song runs round, and the hearts in us hear

      Pause answer to pause, and again the same strain caught,

So moves the device whence, round as a pearl or tear,

      A roundel is wrought.

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!  

Bright Star

Listen to:

Bright Star (1:05)

by John Keats 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art--
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors
No--yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever-or else swoon to death.

I Believe a Leaf of Grass

Listen to:

I Believe a Leaf of Grass (:45)

by Walt Whitman 

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

from Song of Myself     

31

I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey work of the stars,

And the pismire is equally perfect, and a grain of sand, and the egg

    of the wren,

And the tree-toad is a chef-d'oeuvre for the highest,

And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven,

And the narrowest hinge in my hand puts to scorn all machinery,

And the cow crunching with depress'd head surpasses any statue,

And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels.


* chef-d'oeuvre - a masterpiece, especially in art or literature

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.

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?

Wonder and Joy by Robinson Jeffers

Listen to:

Wonder and Joy

by Robinson Jeffers, 1887 - 1962

performed by Bob Gonzalez

The things that one grows tired of—O, be sure
They are only foolish artificial things!
Can a bird ever tire of having wings?
And I, so long as life and sense endure,
(Or brief be they!) shall nevermore inure
My heart to the recurrence of the springs,
Of gray dawns, the gracious evenings,
The infinite wheeling stars. A wonder pure
Must ever well within me to behold
Venus decline; or great Orion, whose belt
Is studded with three nails of burning gold,
Ascend the winter heaven. Who never felt
This wondering joy may yet be good or great:
But envy him not: he is not fortunate.

Voluptuous, Cool-Breath'd Earth

Listen to:

Voluptuous, Cool-Breath'd Earth (1:07)

by Walt Whitman

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

I am he that walks with the tender and growing night,

I call to the earth and sea half-held by the night.

Press close bare-bosom'd night - press close magnetic nourishing night!

Night of south winds - night of the large few stars!

Still nodding night - mad naked summer night.

Smile O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth!

Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees!

Earth of departed sunset - earth of the mountains misty-topt!

Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue!

Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river!

Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake!

Far-swooping elbow'd earth - rich apple-blossom'd earth!

Smile, for your lover comes.

A Thing of Beauty

Listen to:

A Thing of Beauty (1:51)

by John Keats

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

from Endymion by John Keats

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:

Its loveliness increases; it will never

Pass into nothingness; but still will keep

A bower quiet for us, and a sleep

Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing

A flowery band to bind us to the earth,

Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth

Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,

Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways

Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,

Some shape of beauty moves away the pall

From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,

Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon

For simple sheep; and such are daffodils

With the green world they live in; and clear rills

That for themselves a cooling covert make

'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,

Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:

And such too is the grandeur of the dooms

We have imagined for the mighty dead;

All lovely tales that we have heard or read:

An endless fountain of immortal drink,

Pouring unto us from the heaven's brink.

Nor do we merely feel these essences

For one short hour; no, even as the trees

That whisper round a temple become soon

Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon,

The passion poesy, glories infinite,

Haunt us till they become a cheering light

Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast

That, whether there be shine or gloom o'ercast,

They always must be with us, or we die.

Everything That Grows

Listen to:

Everything That Grows (Sonnet 15) (:53)

by William Shakespeare

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

When I consider every thing that grows

Holds in perfection but a little moment,

That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows

Whereon the stars in secret influence comment;

When I perceive that men as plants increase,

Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky,

Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,

And wear their brave state out of memory;

Then the conceit of this inconstant stay

Sets you most rich in youth before my sight,

Where wasteful Time debateth with decay

To change your day of youth to sullied night,

And all in war with Time for love of you,

As he takes from you, I engraft you new.