Lives of great men will remind us
We can make our lives sublime
And,departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Longfellow
----------------------
I saw a jolly hunter
With a jolly gun
Walking in the country
In the jolly sun.
In the jolly meadow
Sat a jolly hare.
Saw the jolly hunter.
Took jolly care.
Hunter jolly eager-
Sight of jolly prey.
Forgot gun pointing
Wrong jolly way.
Jolly hunter jolly head
Over heels gone.
Jolly old safety catch
Not jolly on.
Bang went the jolly gun.
Hunter jolly dead.
Jolly hare got clean away.
Jolly good, I said.
Charles Causey - (24 August 1917 – 4 November 2003) was a Cornish poet, schoolmaster and writer. His work is noted for its simplicity and directness and for its associations with folklore, especially when linked to his native Cornwall.
There's nowt wrong with sounding like a norther lad!
ReplyDeleteGlad to see you're in Kessingland. We once stayed there with our (then) young children, we all loved it. The zoo-type place next door provided the kids with hours of entertainment.
We ate at the same pub - only once though. Feeding a family with pub meals every day is an expensive do!
Keep up the good walk.
JJ
I agree - accents don't count: content, grammar and syntax do
ReplyDeleteafter all, who could dislike the soft lilting of a Hebridean damsel, whispering the purest Queen's English in all her far-flung realms!
glad to hear the game gangs weel fa' noo
Had to get the maps out to see where you are and where you are going. There look to be an awful lot of sea inlets to get round before you reach London.
ReplyDeleteThink you've picked good weather, I know you have no choice really. Hope its not too hot. Will there be any wild camping or have you organised it with sites in mind.
Go easy on the knee.
Interesting that you refer to your accent as bad rather than, say, strong. A defect rather than a regional fol-de-rol.
ReplyDeleteI too have a "bad" accent. A bit like constantly trailing muddy boots - never to be cleaned - over a thousand carpets. A continuous aural spoor.
The years in the USA afforded me respite. Most Americans have tin ears and the way I spoke was thought to be toffee-nosed. For a time I was able to imagine what it would be like to come from the south-east, the land of privilege, acute Metro-centricity and of whinging about the provinces when it's thought they have something that south-easterners haven't - eg, full reservoirs, a regular power supply.
Lowestoft will never be same ever since that tri-partite discussion when you were listing your itinerary, came to L and our dear brother butted in: "A terrible place." I phoned him yesterday and his pleasure at hearing my voice brought me close to tears at how careless I have been over these last six months. Despite his problems he was keen to tell me that my book remains on display and anyone calling asks about it. "A tough job for you since you haven't read it," I said. "It's my eyes," he replied. "No, it's because you don't like it," I said. And he roared with unrestrained laughter.
I suggested he responded to future visitors by saying he'd read it and it was rotten. And he laughed again.
A good day for us both. But I'm well aware they can't all be good. I was lucky.
JJ - it's expensive enough on my own.
ReplyDeleteGimmer - reminds me of a little milk jug my grandma had which had the inscription "stracht frae the coo". I think I was about 21 when I realised what it meant.
Bc - the inlets make for interest. Wild camping? Not if I can help it!
RR - thanks for the heartwarming comment. Great to here you have spoken to Nick. I am hoping to send him some postcards.