Forget-Me-Nots of the Angels

P.S. Longfellow is my 5th cousin 6 times removed, i.e., my 10th great-grandmother, Elizabeth (Burbage) Wiswall (abt.1610 - aft.1664), is his 4th great-grandmother. My 10th great-grandfather, Thomas Wiswall (bef.1601 - 1683), is his 4th great-grandfather.

The Spirit of Christmas

   I question if Christmas can ever be “merry”
Except to the heart of an innocent child.
For when time has taught us the meaning of sorrow
And sobered the spirits that once were so wild,
When all the green graves that lie scattered behind us
Like milestones are marking the length of the way,
And echoes of voices that no more shall greet us
Have saddened the chimes of the bright Christmas Day, -—

  We may not be merry, the long years forbid it,
The years that have brought us such manifold smarts;
But we may be happy, if only we carry
The Spirit of Christmas deep down in our hearts.
Three fold is the Spirit, thus blending together
The Faith of the Shepherds who came to the King,
And, knowing naught else but the angels' glad message,
Had only their faith to His cradle to bring;

The Hope of the Wise Men that rose like the day star

To lighten the centuries' midnight of wrong,

And the Love of the Child in the manger low-lying,

So tender and patient, so sweet and so strong.

Hence I shall not wish you the old “Merry Christmas,”

Since that is of shadowless childhood a part,

But one that is holy and happy and peaceful,

The Spirit of Christmas deep down in your heart.

Written

by

Annie Johnson Flint

(24 December 1866 ~ 08 September 1932)

Published

in

The Independent, Hawarden, Iowa, December 21, 1933, Page 9

RIP Bob Wills 1905-1975

Deep within my heart lies a melody,
A song of old San Antone.
Where in dreams I live with a memory,
Beneath the stars all alone.

Bob Wills
06 March 6 1905 ~ 13 May 1975

He was a favorite of my Bennie's . . .

Brushes of Comets' Hair (quote)

When Earth's last picture is painted
and the tubes are twisted and dried,
When the oldest colours have faded,
and the youngest critic has died,
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it
lie down for an eon or two,
Till the Master of All Good Workmen
shall put us to work anew!

And those that were good shall be happy:
they shall sit in a golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas
with brushes of comets' hair;
They shall find real saints to draw from
Magdalene, Peter, and Paul;
They shall work for an age at a sitting
and never be tired at all!

And only the Master shall praise us,
and only the Master shall blame;
And no one shall work for money,
and no one shall work for fame,
But each for the joy of the working,
and each, in his separate star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It
for the God of Things as They Are!

L'ENVOI
by
Rudyard Kipling
30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936

Do not stand at my grave and weep . . .

Gentle Autumn's Rain

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glint on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autumn rain

When you wake in the morning hush
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight
I am the soft starlight at night
I am the song that will never end
I am the love of family and friend

I am the child who has come to rest
In the arms of the Father  who knows him best
When you see the sunset fair
I am the scented evening air
I am the joy of a task well done
I am the glow of the setting sun

Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there, I did not die

Original verse by Mary Frye (1932)
Additional verse by Wilbur Skeels (1996)

The Shades of Evening

". . . Thus was his fair dawn of life, whilst his cloudless sun was nearing its meridian, in a moment veiled in the shades of death. . . . As the stars of heaven shine brighter at the close of day when the shades of evening gather over the earth, even so do his virtues beam with brighter lustre from the darkness of the silent tomb: and long shall it be ere there shall cease to be found in memory's waste, a green spot watered by the tears of affection for him who is gone."

Centennial History of Harrison, Maine: Containing the Centennial Celebration of 1905, and Historical and Biographical Matter :: By Alphonso Moulton, Howard L. Sampson, Granville Fernald :: Published by the authority of the town, 1909 :: Original from Harvard University :: Digitized Aug 21, 2006 :: 727 pages

Stars that can laugh

In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night . . . you -- only you -- will have stars that can laugh! . . . And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure . . . and your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, "Yes, the stars always make me laugh!" And they will think you are crazy. It will be a very shabby trick that I shall have played on you . . . It will be as if, in place of the stars, I had given you a great number of little bells that knew how to laugh. . . .

From "The Little Prince" written & drawn by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. I watched the new Lee Ann Rimes movie last night, and she made reference to this quotation. I had quoted "The Little Prince" eight years ago in a tribute to Dale Earnhardt (1951-2001) -- yes, we are NASCAR fans! And my husband races every weekend on Texas dirt tracks.