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Dr. Pat Baccili

And almost all the day; And now returned back again, i J We have brought you a branch of May. Do fare as well as they. And though they sweep their heartha ne The lieavenly gates are open wide, less Our paths are beaten plain; Than maids were wont to do; And if a man be not too far gone, Yet who of late, for cleanliness, He may return again.

Finds sixpence in her shoe? The moon shines bright, and the stars Lament, lament, old Abbeys, give a h. Are now grown Puritans;. And nimbly went their toes. As when the time bath been. All in the nick, To play some trick, By which we note the fairies And frolic it, with ho, ho, ho!

Were of the old profession, Their songs were Ave-Maries, Sometimes I meet them like a man, Their dances were procession: Soinetinies an ox, sometimes a liomid; But now, alas! Or farther for religion fled; Or else they take their ease. But if to ride My back they stride, A tell-tale in their company More swift than wind away I go, never could endure, O'er hedge and lands, They Through pools and ponds, And whoso kept not secretly I hurry, laughing, ho, ho, ho! Their mirth, was punished sure; It was a just and Christian deed, To pinch such black and blue: When lads and lasses merry be, 0, how the commonwealth doth need With possets and with junkets fine; Such justices as you!

Unseen of all the company, I eat their cakes and sip their wine! J I answer naught but ho, ho, ho! Yet now and then, the maids to please, FROM Oberon, in fairy-land, At midnight I card up their wool; The king of ghosts and shadows there, And, while they sleep and take their Mad Robin I, at his command, ease, Am sent to view the night-sports here. With wheel to threads their flax I pull. I wend me, laughing, ho, lio, ho! We lend them what they do require: And for the use demand we naught; Before i J Our own is all we do desire.

They do delay, Abroad amongst them then 1 go, IT fell about the Martinmas, And night by night, When the wind blew shrill and cauld, I them atfright, Said Edom 0' Gordon to his men, With pinchings, dreams, and ho, ho, "We maun draw to a hauld. But study how to cog and lie; We will gae to the house of the Rodes, To make debate and mischief too, To see that fair ladye. And leave them scolding, ho ho ho!

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When men do traps and engines set Methinks I see a host of men; In loopholes, where the venuin creep, I marvel who they be. And seem a vemlin taken so; But when they there She had nae sooner buskit hersell, Approach me near, And putten on her gown, I leap out laughing, ho, ho, ho! Till Edom 0' Gordon all' his men Were round about the town. By wells and rills, in meadows gree;a, We nightly dance our heyday guise; They bad nae sooner supper set, And to our fairy king and queen, Nae sooner said the grace, We chant our moonlight minstrelsies.

Away we fling; And babes new-born steal as we go; The lady ran up to her tower-head, And elf in bed We leave in stead, As fast as she could hie, And wend us laughing ho, ho, ho! To see if by her fair speeches She could wi' him agree. This night sail ye lig within mine arms, Fiends, ghosts, and sprites, To-morrow my bride sail be. And he is na far frae me.

Or I sail burn yoursell therein, But and your babies three. And if ye burn my ain dear babes, My lord sail mak' ye dree. Then Wi' his spear he turned her owre; O gin her face was wan "Now reach my pistol, Gland, my man, He said, "Ye are the fi,fst that e'er And charge ye weel my gun; I wished alive again. For, but an I pierce that bluidy butcher, My babes, we been undone! She stood upon her castle wa', "I might bee spared that bonnie face And let twa bullets flee: To hae been some man's delight.

Let it ne'er be said that Ed,o,m 0' Gordon I paid ye weel your fee; Was daunted by a dame. Why pu' ye out the grund-wa' stane, Lets in the reek to me? But when the ladye saw the fire Come flaming o'er her head, "And e'en wae worth ye, Jock, my man! She wept, and kissed her children twain, I paid ye weel your hire; Says, "Bairns, we been but dead. Says, "0 mfther dear, gie owrethishouse, For the reek it smothers me.

For ae blast 0' the western wind, To blaw the reek fra thee. If thou wilt prove a good husband, R'en take thy auld cloak about thee. Was threat'ning all our kyc to kill; man. As we began so will we leave, And I'll take my auld cloak about me. That the first word whae'er should speak Now is now, and then was then. Should rise and bar the door.

Seek anywhere the woAd throughout, Thou ken'st not clowns from gentle- Then by there came twa gentlemen men. At twelve o'clock at night; They are clad in black, green, yellow, And they could neither see house nor and gray, hall, Sac far above their ain degree: Nor coal nor candle light. Of lads and bonnie lasses ten New they are women grown and men, Then said the one unto the other, I wish and pray weci may they be: "Here, man, tak' ye my knife!

And if such a woman move As I now shall versify, HE that loves a rosy cheek, Nature did her so much right, Or a coral lip admires, As she scorns the help of art, Or from starlike eyes doth seek In as many virtues dight Fuel to maintain his fires; 50As e'er yet embraced a heart. As old Time makes these decay, much good so truly tried, Souse for less were deified. So his flames must waste away. But a smooth and steadfast mind, Wit she hath, without desire Gentle thoughts, and calm desires To make known how mudi she hath; Hearts with equal love combined, And her anger flames no higher Kindle ii ever-dying fires; - Than may fitly sweeten wrath.

Where these are not, I despise Full of pity as may be, Lovely cheeks or lips or eyes. Though perliaps not so to me. Modest iii her most of mirth: Likelihood enough to prove J Only worth could kindle love. Stare, linnet, and cock-spmwow; You pretty elves, among yourselves, The morning rose that untouched stands Sing my fair love good-morrow. Armed with her briers, how sweetly smells! And leaves fall from her, one by one. In thin a abode. I said unto the esith, "Speak, art thou Such fate, erelong, will thee betide, he?

They with one voice To see thy love for more than one proclaim Hath brought thee to be loved by none. That none amongst them challenged such a name. I asked the reptiles and whatever is Iii the abyss, - i6oo- But in those deserts which no line can sound, 0 LULL me, lull me, charming air! The God I sought for was not to be found. It told me "No. But they all, much. Surpassing sense; Unspeakable, inscrntable, eternal, I asked the heavens, sun, moon, and Lord over all; stars; but they The only teivible, strong, just, and true, Said, "We obey Who hath no end, and no beginning The God thou seekest.

Of all things that said, subsist We are not God, but we by him were He hath the list, - made. LIKE to the falling of a star, I asked myself what tida great God might Or as the flights of eagles are; be Or like the fresh spring's gaudy hue, That fashioned me. Or silver drops of morning dew;. Or bubbles which on water stood: Even such is man, whose borrowed light [ i65o. Never to be disquieted! My last good night! Thou wilt not wake As Alexander I will reign, Till I thy fate shall overtake; And I will reign alone; Till age, or grief, or sickness must My thoughts did evermore disdain Marry n y body to that dust A rival on my throne.

It so much loves, and fill the roorh lle either fears his fate too much, My heart keeps empty iii thy tomb. Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the toncli, Stay for me there! I will unt fail To gain or lose it all. To meet thee in that hollow vale. And think not much of my delay: I am already on the way, And follow thee with all the speel Desire can make, or sorrow breed.

Each minute is a short degree, And every hour a step towards thee. E i Of life, almost by eight hours' sail, Than when sleep breathed his drowsygale. And gotten bait the victory, In thus adventuring to 1i0 Some men with swords may reap the fic id, Before me, whose more yeaI's might crave Aiid plant fresh laurels where they A just precedence in the grave. Tisey stoop to fate, And must give up theb- niurmuring breath The thought of this bids me go on, When they, pale captives, creep to death.

Dear forgive The garlands wither on your brow; The erinie, - I am content to live ilien boast no more your mighty deeds; Divided, with but half a heart, Upon Death's purple altar now Till we shall meet, and never part. See where the victor-victim bleeds;. Awake bito some holy ilsought, And wfth as active vigor run My course, as doth the nimble sun. On my grave as now my bed. Securely, or to wake or die. These are my drowsy days; in vain WALKING thus towards a pleasant grove, I do now wake to sleep agaili: Whiels did, it seemed, iii siew delight 0, come that hour when I shall never The pleasures of tise time uiiite Sleep thus again, but wake forever.

To give a trhimph to their love, - They stayed at last, and on the grass Repos6d so as o'er lils breast Slie bowed lsei. Long their fixed eyes to heaven bent Unchanged they did never move, And teacls her fair steps to our earth - Of crystal flesh, through which to shine: TilE night is come; like to the day, Depart not thou, gleat God, away.

And be ye called, nay absent kisses. Reep in my horizon: for to me The sun makes not the day, but thee. Something more than Let no dreams my head infest Taffeta or tissue can, But such as Jacob's teniples blest. Or rampant feather, or rich fan. Can make day's forehead bright Or give down to the wings of night. If I have freedom in aJy love, And in my soul am free, - Days, that need borrow Angels alone that soar above No part of their good morrow Enjoy such liberty. Of a clear nIhld aic day all night.

A sword, a horse, a shield. Shall fix my flying wishes, And determine them to kisses. Will go with you along. It is to fast from strife, We have short time to stay as you, From 01 1 debate We have as short a spring; And hate; As quick a growth to meet decay, To circumcise thy life.

As you, or anything. Or as the pearls of morning's dew, Ne'er to he found again.

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FAIR pledges of a fruitful tree, [ Why do ye fall so fast? The dew shall weep tliy fidl to-night; What! An hour or half's delight, And so to bid good-night? Sweet Rose, whose hue, angry and brave, was pity Nature brought ye forth Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Merely to show your worth, Thy root is ever ill its grave, And lose you quite. And thou must die. But you are lovely leaves, where we Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, May read how soon things have A hex where sweets compacted lie, Their end, though ne'er so brave; My music shows ye have your closes, And after they have shown their pride, And all must die.

Like you, awhile, they glide Into the grave. Then chiefly lives. From fat of veals and sheep? How fresh, 0 Lord, how sweet and Is it to quit the dish clean Of flesh, yet still Are thy returns! To which, besides their own demesne, The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure Is it to fast an hour, bring.

As if there were no such cold thing. Who would have thought my shriv- REST. It was Having a glass of blessiiigs standing by, gone "Let us," said he, "pour on bins all we Quite under ground; as flowers depart can: To see their mother-root, when they have Let the world's riches, whichdisperse'dlie, blown; Contract into a span. I leasure: These are thy wonders, Lord of power, When alniost all was out, Cod made a stay, and quickening, bringing down Perceiving that alone, of all liis treasure, Killing Rest in the bottom lay. So both should losers be.

But while I grow in a straight line, Still upwards bent, as if heaven were Thy anger comes, and I decline: What frost to that? The busy wind zone all night Where all things burn, Blew through thy lodging, where thy When thou dost turn, own warm wing And the least frown of thine is shown? Thy pillow was. Many a sullen storm, And now in age I bud again, For which coarse man seems much the fitter born, After so many deaths I live and wnte; Rained on thy bed I once more smell the dew and rain, And harmless head; And relish versing: 0 my only Light, It cannot be And now, as fresh and cheerful as the That I am he light, On whom tlsy tempests fell all night.

Thv little heart in early hymns doth sing Unto that Providence whose unseen arm These are thy wonders, Lord of love, Curbed them, and clothed thee well and To make us see we are but flowers that warm. To kindle my cold love. Shining nowhere but in the dark! What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, For each inclos6d spirit is a star Could man outlook that mark!

Inlightuing his owo little sphere, Whose light, though fetcht and borrow6d He that hath found some fledged bird's from far, nest may know, Both mornings makes and evenings At first sight, if the bird be flown; there. But what fair dell or grove he sings in now, But as these birds of light make a land That is to him unknown. And into glory peep. The turtle then ill palm-trees mourns, If a star were confined into a tomb, While owls and satyrs bowl; Her captive flames must needs burn The pleasant laud to brimstone turns, there; And all her streams grow foul.

Created glories under thee! Where I shall need no glass. I see them walking in an air of glory, Mv sins and follies, Lord! As now and then I hear 3. The praise, therefore, which I have heard, The dull loneness, tlie black shade, Delights not so my niind, That these hanging vaults have made; As those things make iny heart afeard, The strange music of the waves, Which in myself I fiiid: Beating on these hollow caves; And I had rather to be blamed, This black den which rocks emboss, So I were blameless made, Overgrown with eldest moss; Than for inuch virtue to be famed, T he rude portals that give light When I no virtues had.

And when a virtuous man bath erred, To draw comfort and delight. If praised himself he hear, Therefore, ilion best earthly bliss, I will cherish thee for this. It makes him grieve, and more afeard Than if he slandered were. That to naught but earth are born, - And if aught good appear to be Let niy life fin longer he In any act of mine, Than I am in love with thee!

Let thankflilness be found in me, And all the praise be thine. Than all nature's beauties can Your sacred plants, if here below, In some other wiser man. Only among these plaiits will grow. To this delicious solitude. What should we do but sing His praise Little, alas, they know or heed, That led us through the watery maze How far these beauties her exceed! Where he the huge sea monsters racks, Fair tracs! What wondrous life is this I lead! He lands us on a grassy stage, Ripe apples di'op about my head. Safe from the storms and prelates' rage. On daily visits through the air.

Stumbling on melons, as I pass, He hangs in shades the orange bright, lusnared with flowers, I fall on grass. Like golden lamps iii a green night, Meanwhile the mind from pleasure less And does iii the pomegrsnates close Wfthdraws into its happiness, - Jewels more rich than Ormus shows. From Lebanon be stores the land; Here at the fountain's sliding foot, And makes the hollow seas fliat roar, Or at some fl-nit-tree's mossy root, Proclaim the ambergris on shore.

Casting tlie body's vest aside, He cast of which we rather boast My soul into the boughs does glide; The gospel's pearl upon our coast; There, like a bird, it sits and sings, And in these rocks for us did frame A temple where to sound his name. Till it arrive at heaven's vault, Which then perhaps rebounding may Such was the happy garden state, Echo beyond the Mexic bay. To wander solitary there: Two paradises are in one, To live in paradise alone.

JIow well the skilful gm-dener drew Of flowers and herbs this dial new! And, as it works, the industuous bee Computes its time as well as we. IT was the winter wild How could such sweet and wholesome While the heaven-horn child hours All meanly wrapt in the rude manger B ' reckoned, but with herbs and flow- lies; ers? Nature, in awe of him.

Until their Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. Only with speeches fair She wooes the gentle air, And, though tlie shady gloom To hide her guilty front with innocent Had giveli day lier room, snow; The sun himself withheld his wonted And on her naked shame, siieed, Pollute with sinful blame, And hid his head for shame, The saintly veil of niaiden-white to As his inferior flame throw; The new-enlightened woild no more Confounded, that her Maker's eyes should need; Should look so near upon her foul deform- He saw a greater sun appear ities.

Than his bright throne, or burning axle tree, could hear. But he, her fears to cease, Sent down the nieek-eyed Peace: The shepherds on the lawn, She, crowned with olive green, came Or ere the point of dawn, softly sliding Sat simply chatting in a rustic row; Down through the turning sphere, Full little thought they theis His ready harbinger, That the mighty Pan With turtle wing the amorous clouds Was kindly come to live with them be dividing; low; And, waving wide her myftle wand Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep, She strikes a universal peace throug'h sea Was all that did theh- silly thoughts so and land.

When such music sweet No war or battle's sound Their hearts aiid ears did greet, Was heard the world around: As never was by mortal fingers strook, The idle spear and shield were high up- Divinely warbled voice hung The hooked chariot stood Answering the stn. As if they surely knew their sovereign lord was by.

The stars, with deep amaze, At last surrounds their sight Stand fixed in steadfast gaze, A globe of circular light, Bending one way their precious infin- That wit ii mug beams the shame-faced ence; iiight arrayed; And will not take their flight, The helm ed cherubim,. Ring out, ye crystal spheres, And then at last our bliss, Once bless our human ears, Full and perfect is, If ye have power to touch our senses so; But now begins for, from this happy And let your silver chime day, Move in melodious time; The old dragon, underground, And let the bass of Heaven's deep organ In straiter limits bound, blow; Not half so far casts his usurp6d sway; And, with your ninefold harmony, And, wroth to see his kingdom fail, Make up full concert to the angelic sym- Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail.

The oracles are dumb; For, if such holy song No voice or hideous hum Enwrap our fancy long, Runs through the arch6d roof in words Tiine will run back, and fetch the age deceiving. Yea, Truth and Justice then The londy mountains o'er, Will down return to in en, And the resounding shore, Orbed in a rainbow; and, like glories A voice of weeping heard and loud Mercy wearing, From lament; haunted spring and dale, Throned in celestial sheen, Edged with poplar pale, With radiant feet the tissued clouds The parting Genius is wfth sighing sent; down steering; With fiower-inwoven tresses torn, And Heaven, as at some festival, The nymphs in twilight shade of tangled Will open wide the gates of her high thickets mourn.

In consecrated earth, But wisest Fate says no, And on the holy hearth, This must not yet be so The Lars and Lemures mourn with mid The babe yet lies in s4iiling infancy, night plaint. That on the bitter cross In urns and altars round,. A drear and dying sound Troop to the infernal jail, Affrights the Flamens at their service Each fettered ghost slips to his several quaint; grave; And the chill marble seems to sweat, And the yellow-skirted fays While each peculiar power foregoes his Fly after tbe night-steeds, leaving their wonted seat.

They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about thefurnaceblue: How soon hath Time, the subtle thief The brutish gods of Nile as fast, of youth, Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. Stolen on his wing my three-and-twen tieth year! My hasting days fly on with full career, Nor is Osiris seen But my late spring no bud or blossom In Memphian grove or green, showeth. Trampling the unshowered grass with Perhaps my semNance might deceive the lowings loud; Nor can he be at rest truth, That I to manhood am arrived so near, Wiiliin his sacred chest, And inward ripeness doth much less Naught but profoundest hell can be his appear, shroud; That some more tienely-happy spirits In vain with timbrelled anthems dark endu'th.

The sable-stole'd sorcerers bear his wor- Yet, be it less or more, or soon or slow, shipped ark. It shall be still in strictestmeasureeven To that same lot, however mean orhigh, He feels from Judah's land Toward which Time leads me, and the The dreaded infant's hand, will of Heaven; The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky All is, if I have grace to use it so, eyne; As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye. Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his state Then shall I end my sad complaints, Is kingly; thousands at his bidding And weary, sinful days; speed, And join with the triumphant saints And post o'er land and ocean without That sing Jehovah's praise.

Eternal God! Make me no prisoner, but an anchoret. As if their wisdoms had conspired The salamander should be burned; LoRD, it belongs not to my care, Or like those sophists, that would drown Whether I die or live: a To love and serve thee is my share, I am constrained to suffer what I wish. And this thy grace must give. Naked on frozen Caucasus:.

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Contentment cannot smart; stoics we Whi,lst loyal thoughts do still repair see T accompany my solitude: Make torments easier to their apathy. Although rebellion do my body bind, My king alone can captivate my mind. Thinking t' have made his purpose sure, Stronger by weakness, wiser men become, By a malicious friendly knife As they draw near to their eternal home.

Did only wound hiin to a cure. Malice, I see, wants wit; for what is Leaving tbe old, both worlds at once meant they view, Mischief, ofttimes proves favor by the That stand upon the threshold of the event. In that her nauow hermitao'e?

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THis only grant me, that my means may I am that bird, whom they combine lie Thus to deprive of liberty; Too low for envy, for contempt too high. Disgrace to rebels, glory to my king. Nor shall my future actions be confined My garden painted o'er By my own present mind. With Nature's hand, not Art's; and Who by resolves and vows engaged does pleasures yield, stand Horace might envy in his Sabine field. For days that yet belong to Fate, Does, like an unthrift, mortgage his Thus would I double my life's fading estate space; Before it fails into his hand.

For he that rnns it well twice runs his The boudman of the cloister so race. I would not fear, nor wish, my fate; Unhappy slave! But boldly say each night, NV hich his hour's work, as well as hours, To-morrow let my sun his beams display, does tell! Or in clouds hide them; I have lived to- Unhappy to the last, the kind releasing day.

The soft complabsing flute In dying notes discovers [ - FRoM harmony, from heavenly harmon This universal frame began: y, Sharp violins proclaim When Nature underneath a heap Their jealous pangs and desperation, Of jarring atoms lay, Fury, frantic indignation, And could not heave her head, Depth of pains, and heigist of passion, The tuneful voice was heard from high, For the fair, disdainful dame. Arise, ye more than dead! Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry But 0, what art can teach, In order to their stations leap, What human voicc can reach, And music's power obey.

From harmony, frona heavenly harmony, Notes inspiflug holy love, This universal frame began: Notes that wing their heavenly ways From harmony to harmony To mend the choirs above. Through all the co nipass of the notes it ran, Tise diapason closing full in man. What passion cannot music raise and quell? As from the power of sacred lays The trumpet's loud clangor The spheres began to move, Excites us to arms, And sung the great Creator's praise With shrill notes of anger To all the blest above; And moftal alarms. The first in loftiness of thought sur- For fear but freezes minds; but love, like passed; heat, The next in majesty in both the last.

Exhales the soul sublime, to seek her The force of Nature could no farther go; native seat. To make a third, she joined the former To threats the stubborn siiineroft is hard, two. Those but proebtim his style, and disapRich was his soul, though his attire was pear; As poor The stiller sounds succeed, and God is God bath clothed his own ambassa- there.

Of sixty years he seemed; and well might DIM as the borrowed beams of moon and last To sixty more, but that he lived too fast, To stars lonely, weary, wandering travellers, Refined himself to soul, to curb the sense, Is reason to the soul: and 55 high, And made almost a Sill of abstinence.

Those tOllill fires discover but the sky, Yet had his aspect nothing of severe, Not But suds a face as promised isim sIncere. Nothing reserved or sullen was to see; Was ing ray lent, not to assure our doubtfal way, But sweet regards, and pleasing sanefity. And guide us upward to a better day. For, letting down the golden chain from So dies, and so dissolves in supernatural high, light. He bore his great commission in his look But sweetly tempered awe, and softened AWAKE, my smil, and with the suu all he spoke.

Thy daily course of duty run He preached the joys of heaven and pains Shake off lull sloth, and joyful 1se of hell, To pay thy morning sacrifice. And with the angels bear thy part,. I knew thou wert not slow to hear, Nor impotent to save. At tisy coinmaisd was still. And humbly hope for more. Praise God, from whom all blessings flow; My life, if thou preserv'st my life, Praise hiiu, all creatures here below; Thy sacrifice shall be; Praise him above, ye heavenly host; And dea4s, if death must be my dooiij, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Shall join my soul to thee. My noonday walks he shall attend, How si're is their defence! And all my midnight hours defend. Eternal Wisdom is their guide, Their help Omnipoteiice. Thou saw' st the wide extended deep In all its horrors rise. And streams shall murmur all around. In every clime adored, By saint, by savnge, and by sage, To thee, whose temple is all space, - Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!

And, bindiiig nature fast in fate, Good, pleasure, ease, content! Which still so near us, yet beyond us lies, What blessings thy free bounty gives O'erlookcd, seen double by the fool, and Let me not cast away wise. Thy goodness let me bound, Fair opening to some court's propitious Or think thee Lord alone of man, shrine, When thousand worlds are round. Or deep with diamonds in the flaming mine? On each I judge thy foe.

Where grows? If vain our toil, If I am right, thy grace impaft We ought to blame the culture, not the Still in the right to stay; soil: If I am wrong, 0, teach my heart Fixed to no spot is happiness sincere, To find that better way! Some place the bliss in action, some in ease; Teach me to feel another's woe, Those call it pleasure, and contentment To hide the fault I see; these That mercy I to others show, Some, sunk to beasts, find pleasure end That mercy show to me. But fortune's gifts if each alike possessed, Who thus define it, say they more or less And all were equal, must not all conThan this, that happiness is happiness?

And makes what happiness we justly 0 sons of earth, attempt ye still to call rise, Subsist not in the good of one, but all. But some way leans and hearkens to the Heavess still with laughter the vain toil kind; surveys, No bandit fierce, no tyrant mad with And buries madmen in the heaps they prtde, raise.

That such are happier shocks all common sense. Bliss is the same in subject or in king, These tears that I shed they are a' for In who obtain defence or who defend, my dear, In him who is or him who finds a friend; And not for the dangers attending on Heaven breathes through every member weir; of the whole One common blessing, as one common Though borne on rough seas to a far souL Maybe bloody shore, to return to Lochaber more 4. Though hurricanes rise, and rise every So just, tbe life itself was there.

Whoever sat, be drew from these, From these corrected every feature, Then glory, my Jeany, maun plead my And spirited each awkwanl creature. His pallet ready o'er his thumb. Observe the work. My lord examined it anew; The traveller, leaping o'er those bounds, No looking-glass seemed half so true. The credit of his book confounds. Makes even his real courage doubted: Her lover praised the painter's art; But flattery never seems absurd; So like the picture in liis heart! The flattered always takes your word: To every age some charm he lent; Impossibilities seem just; Even beaefties were almost content.

They take the strongest praise on trust. Will still come sboi't of self-conceit. Had he the real likeness shown, So very like a painter drew, Would any man the picture own? That every eye the picture knew; But when thus happily he wrought, He hIt complexion, feature, air, Each found the likeness ill his thought. I counted cost, and was content. And keep the hiccups from the heart. With good and en dc-humored hearts, I love my neighbor as myself, Myself like lii in too, by his leave; I choose to chat where'er I come, Nor to his pleasure, power, or peif Whate'er the subject be that starts; Came I to crouch, as I conceive: But if I get among the glum, Dame Nature doubtless has designed I hold my tongue to tell the truth, A mars the monarch of his mind.

And keep my breath to cool my broth. Than whom a friend more fell is no where found. Was naught arouna but images of rest: And of gay castles in the clouds that Sleep-soothing groves, and Cluiet lawns pass, between; Forever flushing round a summer sky: And flowery beds that slumberous in- There eke the soft dehghts, that witch fluence kest, ingly From poppies breathed; and beds of Instil a wanton sweetness through the pleasant green, breast, Where never yet was creeping crea- And the calm pleasures, always hov ture seen.

That, as they bickered through the sunny glade, Though restless still themselves, a lull ing murmur made. A HYMN. The rolling vale, year And flocks loud bleating from the dis- Is full of thee. And up the hills, on either side, a Thy bounty shines in autumn uncon wood fined, Of blackening pines, aye waving to And spreads a common feast for all that and fro, lives. Sent forth a sleepy horror through the In winter awful thou! On the whirlwind's scarcely heard, to flow. Deep felt, in these appear!

Breathe your still song into the reaper's But waiidering oft, wfth brute uncon- heart, scions gaze, As home he goes beneath the joyous Man marks not thee, marks not the moon. Fliiigs from the sun direct the flaming Great source of day! One general song! Sweetest of birds! Ye headlong torrents, rapid and pro- Ye chief, for whom the whole creafior.

And where he vital breathes, there must Wide and wider spreads the vale, be joy. As circles on a smooth canal. Sustaining all you orbs, and all their Now I gain the mountain's brow; suns; What a landscape lies below! But I lose In all tise hues of heaven's bow! Old castles on the cliffs arise,. The yellow beech, the sable yew, See on the mountain's southern side, The slender fir that tal er grows, Where the prosl ect opens wide, The sturdy oak wfth broad-spread Where the evening gilds the tide; boughs; How close and small the hedges lie!

And beyond the purple grove, What streaks of meadow cross the Han'it of Phyllis, queen of love! Gaudy as the opening dawn, A step methinks may pass tlse stream, Lies a long aiid level lawn, So little distant dangers seem On which a dark hill, steep and high, So we mistake the Future's face, Holds and charms the wandenug eye. And with her arms from falling keeps; 0, may I with myself agree, So both a safety from the wind And never covet what I see; In niutual dependence find.

As on the mountain-turf I lie; Yet Time has seen, - that lifts the low While the wanton Zephyr sings, And level lays the lofty brow, - And in the vale perfiimes his wings; Has seen this broken pile complete, While the waters murmur deep; Big with the vanity of state. Is all the proud and mighty have Be full, ye courts; be great who Between the cradle and the grave.

Sometimes swift, sometimes slow, - In vain you search; she is not there! Wave succeediiig wave, they go In vain you search the donies of Care! A various journey to the deep, Grass and flowers Quiet treads, Like human life to endless sleep! On the meails and mountain-heads, Thus is Nature's vesture wrought, Along with Pleasure, close allied, To instruct our wandering thought: Ever by each other's side; Thus she dresses green and gay, And often, by the murmuAng rill, To disperse our cares away. He;irs the thrush, while all is still Ever charming, ever new, Within the groves of Grongar Hill.

And lay isim on the Braes of Yarrow. Busk ye, husk ye, my bonny bonny bride, And think nae mair on the Braes of Then build, then build, ye sisters sisters Yarrow. And weep around in waeful wise, Where gat ye that winsome marrow? I gat her where I darena well be seen, Pu'ing the birks on the Bracs of Yarrow. Nor let thy heart lament to leave Did I not warn thee not to lo'e, Pu'ingthe birksontheBraesof Yarrow.

And warn from fight, but to my sorrow; O'er rashly bauld a stronger arm "Why does she weep, thy bonny bonny Thou met'st, and fell on the Bracs of bride? Y arrow. Why does she weep, thy winsome Sweet smells the birk, green grows, green marrow? Lang mann she weep, lang maun she, Flows Yauow sweet? Pu'ing the birks on the Bracs of Yanow. That e'er pn'ed birks on the Bracs of Yaimw. Busk ye, tlsen husk, my bonny bonny bride, Why runs thy stream, 0 Yarrow, Yarrow, Bnsk ye, husk ye, my winsome mauow!

Busk ye, and lo'e me on the banks of Why on thy bracs heard the voice of Tweed, sorrow? Hniig on the bonny hirks of Yarrow? For there was basely slain my love, ],Iy love, as he had not been a lover. But lang ere night the spear was flown That slew my love, and left me mourn ing. THERE is a lmd of pure delight, NV here saints immoftal reign; "My happy sisters may be, maybe proud; Infinite day excindes the night, With cruel and ungentle scoffin, And pleasures banish pain. May bid me seek on Yarrow Braes There everlasting spring abides, My lover nail6d in his coffin.

While Jordan rolled between. And fear to lana cii away. With unbeclouded eyes, - Ah me! Plenteous grace with ilsee is found, Grace to cover all my sin; YE golden lamps of heaven, farewdl, Let tise healing streams abound, With all your feeble light! Freely let use take of thee; Spring thou up within my heart, And thou, reflilgent orb of day, Rise to all eternity. Of my divine abode; The pavement of those heavenly courts [ There all the millions of isis saints Lovx divine, all love excelling, Shall in one song unite; Joy of heaven to earth come down; And each the bliss of all shall view, Fix in us tisy humlsle dwelling, With infinite delight.

Enter cveiy trembling heart. Hide me, 0 my Saviour, hide Till the storm of life be pas't; Come, almighty to deliver, Safe into the haven guide, Let us all thy life receive; 0, receive my soul at last! Suddenly return, and never, Never in ore thy temples leave: Other refuge have I none, Thee we would be always blessing, Hangs my helpless soul on thee; Serve thee as thy hosts above; Leave, ah!

All my trust on thee is stayed, All my help from thee I bring; Fiisish then thy new creation, Cover my defenceless head Pure, unspotted may we be; With the shadow of tliy wing. Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Till we cast our crowns before thee, Heal the sick, and lead the blind: Lost iii wonder, love, and praise. And steadfast hate, and sharp affliction joined, And fury uncontrolled, and chastisement When fainting nature called for aid, unkind.

And hovering death prepared the blow, His vigorous remedy displayed A russet stole was o'er her shoulders The power of art without the show. For rare; they an gaping wonderment abound, His virtues waWed their narrow round, And think, no doubt, she been the great Nor made a pause, nor left a void; est wight on gromid. Albeit ne flattery did corrupt her truth, The busy day, the peaceful night, Ne pompous title did debauch her ear; Unfelt, unc6unted, glided by; Goody, good-wonian, gossip, II' aunt His frame was firm, his powers were forsooth, bright, Or dame, the sole additions she did Though now his eightieth yearwas nigh.

Yet hear; these she challenged, these she held right dear: Then with no fiery throbbing pain, Ne would esteem him act as mought No cold gradations of decay, behove, Death broke at once tbe vital chain, Who should not honored eld with these And fi-ced his soul the nearest way. J title love. And leaves the woild to darkness and to Such favor did her past deportment me. Herbs too she knew, and well of each Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower could speak The moping owl does to the moon coni That in her - garden sipped the silvery Of plain dew; such as, wanderina near her secret Where no vain flower disclosed a gaudy Molest bower, streak; her ancient solitary reign.

But herbs for use, and physic, not a few, Beneath those rugged elms, that yew. Of gray renown, within those borders tree's shade, The grew: Where heaves the turf in many a moul tufted basil, pun-provoking thyme, derhig heap, Fresh baum, and marygold of cheerful Each in his narrow cell forever laid, hue; The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The lowly gill, that never dares to climb; The breezy call of incense-breathing And more I fain would sing, disdaining morn, here to rhyme.

And read their history in a nation's eyes, The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, Their lot forbade: nor circumscribed And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er alone Await gave, Their growing virtues, but their crimes alike the inevitable hour; - confined; The paths of glory lead but to the grave. Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the And shut the gates of mercy on mankind; fault, If memory o'er their tomb no trophies The struggling pangs of conscious truth Where raise, to hide, through the long-drawn aisle and To quench the blushes of ingenuous fretted vault shame, The pealing anthem swells the note of Or heap the shrine of luxury and pride praise.

With incense kindled at the Muse's flame. They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid Yet even these bones from insult to proSome heart once pregnant with celestial tect, flie; Some frail memorial still erected nigh, Hands that the rod of empire might have With uncouth rhymes and shapAcas swayed, sculpture decked, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre: Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. But Knowledge to their eyes her ample Their name, their years, spelt by the page,, unlettered Muse, Rich with the spoils of time, did ne er The place of fame and elegy supply; unroll; And many a holy text around slie strews, Chill Penury repressed their noble rage, That teach the rustic moralist to die.

And froze the genial current of the soul. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, Full many a gem of purest ray serene This pleasing, anxious being e'erresigned, The dark, unfathomed caves of ocean Left the warm precincts of the cheerful bear; day, Full many a flower is born to blush un- Nor cast one longing, lingering look be seen,. And waste its sweetness on the desert air. On some fond breast the parting soul Some village Hampdeii, that with daunt- relies, less breast Some pious drops the closing eye reThe little tyrant of his fields withstood; quires;.

E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature Fair Science frowned not on his humble cries, birth, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. And Melancholy marked him for her own. His silver-winding way! With pliant arm thy glassy wave? The captive linnet which inflirall? Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, What idle progeny succeed A youth to fortune and to fame un- To chase the rolling circle's speed, known; Or urge the flying ball?

Poverty, to fill the band, They hear a voice in every wind, That numbs the soul with icy hand; And snatch a fearful joy. And slow-consuming Age. Gay hope is theirs, by fancy fed, To each his sufferings: all are men, Less pleasing when possessed; Condemned alike to groan; The tear forgot as soon as shed, The tender for another's pain, The sunshine of tise breast.

The unfeelbig for his own. Theirs buxom health of rosy hue, Yet, ah! The spirits pure, the slumbers light, Thought would destroy their paradise. That fiy the approach of morn. The ministers of human fate, And black Misfortune's baleful train. Soft maids and village hinds shall bring Each opening sweet of earliest bloom, These shall the fury passions tear, And rifle all the' breathing spring. The vultures of the mind, Disdainfill Auger, pallid Fear, No wailing ghost shall dare appear And Shanje, that skulks behind; To vex wfth shrieks this quiet grove; Or pining Love shall waste their youth, But shepherd lads assemble here, Or Jealousy with rankling tooth, And melting virgins own tbeir love.

But female fays shall haunt the green, And dress thy grave with pearly dew. Ambition tbis sball tempt to rise, Then whirl the wretch from high, The redbreast oft at evening hours To bitter Scorn a sacrifice, Shall kindly lend his little aid, And grinning Infamy. With hoary moss and gathered flowers The stings of Falsehood those shall try, To deck the ground where thou art laid. The tender thought on thee shall dwell. Thy genial, loved return! The pensive Pleasures sweet, Returning fl:om his finished tour, Prepare thy shadowy car.

Think others see as well as you; "A stranger animal," cries one, Nor wonder if you find that none "Sure never lived beneath the sun: Prefers your eyesight to his own. How slow its pace! Who ever saw so fine a blue? The swain responsive as the milkmaid "Green! But now the sounds of population fail, I caught.

She only left of all the harmless train, And, as a bird eacli fond endearment The sad historian of the pensive plain. At his Remote front towns he ran Isis godly race, control, Nor e'er lead changed, nor wished to Despair and anguish fled the struggling change, his place; soul; Unpractised he to fawn, or seek for power, Comfort came down the trenibling wretch By doctrines fashioned to the varying to raise, hour; And his last, faltering accents whispered Far other aims his heart had learned to praise. Pleased with his guests, the good man As some tall cliff, that lifts its awful form, learned to glow, Swells from the vale, and midway leaves And quite forgot their vices in their woe; the storm, Careless their nterits or their faults to Though round its breast the rolling clouds scan, are spread, His pity gave ere charity began.

Eternal sunshine settles on its head. Thus to relieve the wretched was his Beside yon straggling fence that skirts pride, the way, And even his failings leaned to virtue's With blossomed furze unprofitably gay, side: There, in his i1oisy mansion, skilled to rule, But in his duty rompt at every call, The village master taught lila little school. He watched an wept, he prayed and A man severe he was, and sterit to view; felt for all; I knew him well, and every truant knew:.

Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, Yain, transitory splendors! While words of learned length and thun- vail; dering sound No more the smith his dusky brow shall Amazed the gazingrustics ranged around; clear, And still they gazed, and still the wonder Relax his ponderous strength, and lean grew to hear.

That one small head could carry all he The host himself no longer shall be found knew. Careful to see the mantling bliss go round; Nor the coy maid, half willing to be prest, But past is all kis fame. The very spot Shall kiss the cup to pass it to the rest. Where many a time he triumphed is for got.

Low lies that house where nut-brown draughts inspired, Where gray-beard mirth and smiling toil - i8z I. Where village statesmen talked with looks profound, IT was a friar of orders gray And news much older than their ale went Walked forth to tell his beads, round. And he met with a lady fair, Imagination fondly stoops to trace Clad in a pilgrim's weeds. The parlor splendors of that festive place: The whitewashed wall; the nicely sanded "Now Christ thee save, thou reverend floor; The varnished clock that clicked behind friar! His flaxen locks that sweetly curled, And eyes of lovely blue.

But he is dead and laid in his grave, Lady, be's dead and gone! My love he had the truest heart, - And art thou dead and gone? And didst thou die for love of me? Break, cruel heart of stone! Some ghostly comfort seek: Then farewell home; forevermore Let not vain sorrow rive thy heart, A pilgrim I will be.

Nor tears bedew thy cheek. Can wash my fault away. And dry those pearly tears; Since grief but aggravates thy loss, For see, beneath this gown of gray Grieve not for what is past. To end my days I thought. Is not yet passed away,. His victories are o'er; And he and his eight hundred "Now farewell grief, and welcome joy Shall plough the wave no more. O THAT those lips had language! Those lips are thine, - thy own sweet i8oo. Who bid'st me honor with an artless song, A land-breeze shook the shrouds Affectionate, a mother lost so long. And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief, Toll for the brave!

Shall steep me in Elysian revery, Brave Kempenfelt is gone; A momentary dream that thou art she. His last sea-fight is fought, My mother! No tempest gave the shock; Hovered thy spirit o'er thy son-owing son, She sprang no fatal leak, Wretch even then, life's journey just She ran 11p no rock. Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unfelt, a His sword was in its sheath, kiss; His fingers held the pen, Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss When Kempenfelt went down Ah, that maternal smile!

I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, Weigh the vessel up, I saw the hearse that bere thee slow away, Once dreaded by our foes And, turning from my nursery window, And mingle with our cup drew The tear that England owes. A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu! But was it such? It was. Where thou Her timbers yet are sound, art gone, And she may float again, Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.

Full charged with England's thunder, May I but meet thee on that peaceful And piough the distant main. The parting words shall pass my lips And thou wast happier than myself the more! Dupe of to-morrow even from a child. I would not trust my heart, -the dear Thus many a sad to-morrow came and delight went, Seems so to be desired, perhaps I might.

Till, all my stock of infant sorrows spent, But no, - what here we call our life is I learned at last submission to my lot; such, But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er So little to be loved, and thou so much, forgot. That I should ill requite thee to con Where once we dwelt our name is heard strain no more, Thy unbound spirit into bonds again. So thou, with sails how swift! Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and But me, scarce hoping to attain that rest, breaks Always from port withheld, always disThat humor interposed too often makes, - tressed, - All this, still legible in memory's page, Me howling blasts drive devious, temAnd still to be so to my latest age, pest-tossed, Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and Such honors to thee as my numbers may; compass lost; Perhaps a frail memorial, but sincere, And day by day some current's thwarting Not scorned in heaven, though little no- force ticed here.

Sets me more distant from a prosperous Could Time, his flight reversed, restore course. I pricked them into paper with a pin, My boast is not that I deduce my birth. And now, farewell! Is this a time to think 0' wark? By contemplation's help, not sought in Mak haste, lay by your wheel; vain, Is this the time to spin a thread, I seem to have lived my childhood o'er When Colin a at the door?

And I can view this mimic show of thee, Time has but half succeeded in his And gie to me my bigonet, theft, - My bishop's satin gown; Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me For I maun tell the baillie's wife left. GOD moves in a mysterious way Rise, lass, and mak a clean fireside, His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, Put on the muckle pot; And rides upon the storm.

And works his sovereign will. And mak our table neat and clean, Let everything look braw, Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, For wha can tell how Colin fared But trust liim for his grace; When he was far awn'? Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. The bud may have a bitter taste, And will I see his face again? But sweet will be the flower. And will I hear him speak? That thirled through my heart,. But what puts parting in my head? Full quickly they pass, - but they never It may be far awa'!

The present moment is our ain, The neist we never saw. She shone, and the planets were lost in And will I hear him speak? Ah, fool! I mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you; Perfumed with fresh fraarance, andglit tering with dew. AT the close of the day, when the ham- Nor etfortheravageofwinterlmourn, - let is still, Kin nature the embryo blossom will And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness save; When prove, but the torrent is heard But when shall spring visit the moulder. This great affection to believe, See truth, love, and mercy in triumph Which all confess, but few perceive, descending, if old assertions can't prevail, And nature all glowing in Eden's first Be pleased to hear a modern tale.

On the cold cheek of death smiles and When sports went round, and all were roses are blending, gay, And beanty immortal awakes from the On neighbor Dodson's wedding-day, tomb. With you! What more he urged 1 have not heard, His reasons could not well be stronger; Why else the o'ergrown paths of time So Death the poor delinquent spared, Would thus the lettered sage explore, And left to live a liftle longer.

His hour-glass trembled while he spoke. But when I call again this way, Well pleased the world will leave. What next the hero of our tale befell, [x He passed his hours in peace. Yields to his fate, - so ends my tale. ANNA L. And you are now fourscore. From this celestial morn. Else you are come on a fool's errand With but a secretary's warrant. Your years have run to a great length; When sinks a righteous soul to rest, Iwish you joy, though, of yourstrength! How gently heaves the expiring breast!

I have been lame these four years past. For legs and arms would make amends. And where Wi' mony a blushing bud pears - I strove myself to hide. Farewell, inconstant world, farewell! While heaven and earth combine to say, "Sweet is the scene when virtue dies! I know not what thou art, i HAIL, beauteous stranger of the grove! Thou messenger of spring! Say not Good Night, - but in some brighter clime Delightful visitant! J And imftates thy lay. What time the pea puts on the bloom, WEAT ails this heaft 0' mine? Tb fliest thy vocal vale, What ails this watery ee?

An annual guest in other lands, Wliat gars me a' turn pale as death Another spring to hail. When I take leave o' thee? Sweet bird! May gar thy fancy jee. I used to meet thee there. He promised me a little page, Saddled and bridled To s Iuire me to his father's towers. And gallant rade he Hame came his gude horse, He promised me a wedding-ring, But never came he. The wedding-day was fixed to-mouow; Now he is wedded to his grave, Out came his auld mither Alas! Greeting fu' sair, And out came his bonnie bride Sweet were his words when last we met, Rivin' her hair.

My passion as I freely told him; Saddled and bridled Clasped iii his arms, I little thought And booted rade he; That I should nevermore behold him. Toom hame came the saddle, But never came he. Scarce was he gone, I saw his ghost, - It vanished with a shriek of sorrow; "My meadow lies green, Thrice did the Water Wraith ascend, And my corn is unshorn; And give a doleful groan through Yarrow!

They only saw the clouds of night, They only heard the roar of Yarrow! And waly, waly yon burn side, No longer walk, thou lovely maid, - Where I and my love wont to gae. I leaned my back unto an aik, And thought it was a trusty tree, No longer seek him east or west, But first it bowed, and syne it brak', No longer search the forest thorough, Sae my true Jove did lightly me.

For, murdered in the night so dark, He lies a lifeless corpse in Yarrow! Or wherefore should I kame my hair? The sheets shall ne'er be filled by me;. The sun took delight to shine for its O gentle death! And it wll'l be the brag 0' the forest yet. And I mysel' in cramasie.

And 0, if my young babe were born, And set upon the nurse's knee, 0, WEEL may the boatie row, And I mysel' were dead and gane, And better may she speed; Wi' the green grass growing over me! The Willful Virgin, p. It was not given away or bartered or owned by their partners, it was wholly and solely within their dominion.

In the case of goldstar, they still enjoy sexuality. All of this connects to what Beebe points out on p. This really explains everything. Though a closer analogy for them might be the opposite; of a pot that allows water to flow through its solid sides. It is usually associated with sex drive, but that is really just one part of it. For them not to become tarnished or worn would run counter to nature. So on p. In utter frustration, I became a conservative Christian at 20, which greatly restricted what I could do with the opposite sex, and even who I could pursue, since we were not supposed to date unbelievers.

It will create expectations they cannot live up to, and thus disillusionments. It stems from a desire for life i. Where Christians often tell you to wait for some other kind of world after this one, where everything will be made right, but then on the other hand, where everything will be different like no sex, for one! The wholeness Jung sought initially through the mother archetype, and later through the anima, denies the split within his own masculine nature, a split that I think he was finally too proud to recognize.

Today we are able to see the effects of this split as a partial failure of integrity, obvious in his personal and political dealings with other men as well as in what he asked women to carry for him. But if we are to realize an ideal of integrity that is appropriate to a post-patriarchal age, the masculine and feminine principles must each be allowed to become less monolithic by developing the dialogue of solar and lunar conscience within each principle. The gender principles need to find the opposites within themselves before they turn to meet each other. Again, Jung was projecting patriarchical assumptions onto women, but this basically followed society of the time anyway.

Also, Johnson, Unlived Life , p. Not because of any homosexual molestation, but more indirectly, through life circumstances, especially with a condition such as AS, with all the problems it causes with people. Yet since life seemed, by the process of elimination, to be forcing me into a lunar i. Just trying to gain some sense of solar power in the way most possible; from behind a computer screen, like in arguing Christian doctrine and politics online for years; but it just leads to burnout.

These connect to eros and logos or care and justice. What was in those ships; all three, on Christmas Day in the morning? Where did they get that from? More on this below! I heard all the songs as a child, but never took any notice of that word. I heard of the state Virginia, of course, and then, the Virgin Islands.

The Bitch, the Crone, and the Harlot

Never thought of what the names meant. So by jr. So the first time I was ever asked if I was one, right there in jr. Anyway, all of this continues to show a deep archetypal significance of this sexual state. Of course, some religious assumptions projected the fear of sex as evil into the Christmas story.

But the true reason of not having a human father, aside from just being a miracle, also had to do with the royal lineage. But once man took of the knowledge of good and evil, he began to take on a sense of shame, leading to negative judgments of sex. This is when various archetypes constellated. The universal archetypes would reflect this. So the Virgin Mother began to enter ancient religion, likely beginning with Nimrod and the legends formed around him. This would be such a supernatural miracle of unlikeliness.

To be a mother is to promote life into the next generation. However, circumcision of most men in the west removed this flesh anyway rendering it moot. But if done right, neither should really break. It ideally was not supposed to come across like this. Many people trace this from Babylon, Egypt and other ancient religions, to Christ, and believe this proves He or the doctrine built around him was a fabrication from those earlier sources. But all this means is that God chose this primeval archetype as His means of fulfilling the redemption mankind was seeking through them.

Her virginity would be perpetuated to her whole lifetime even though there is strong scriptural evidence she had other children by Joseph. Many of them bypass Church history altogether, and surmise that rather than breaking off of the larger churches, their forebears existed alongside them though often forced underground , as various small persecuted groups throughout the centuries. So they hold that they never lost the purity of the original doctrines or polity, and will often be the ones insisting they hold the whole truth and every other group is wrong.

They also have been strongest in upholding literal virginity for unmarried non-widows, as the supreme virtue; one that most of their judgments of modern culture were based on. At least one guy actually attributed to this right after it occurred! Hence the archetype is represented in this way, at least. In ancient Judaism, it was the Temple system. The virtuous woman being the faithful, and the non-virtuous one being one who has sold herself out to impure religion or political leadership. So where I used to be more critical of devotion to Mary, I see where it has some archetypal significance, as the need to concretize a deep longing in the collective psyche.

But it does show something else to be aware of. You end up killing people for being sinners; but then you are just as much a sinner. I at this point should mention the confusion I have seen, regarding what sexual consummation really is. At that point, not knowing anything about sex in practice but only seeing textbook illustrations of the female anatomy, and very basic descriptions of intercourse , I wondered how it would be so difficult.

So then, I find out about another condition, vulvodynia or vestibulodynia, where the sides of the vulva outside the opening of the vaginal opening can be tight as well, as they are pushed together by the superficial pelvic floor muscles the same ones we use to hold in going to the bathroom , which will be tense especially when nervous, and the area can be irritated or inflamed from fabrics, infections, thinning caused by birth control pills, or even too many nerves Congenital Neuroproliferate Vestibulodynia.

So now, you have to wonder about all those centuries when blood on the sheets was the sign that the woman was virtuous, thinking it was from a hymen being present and torn, and could even lead to punishment by death if believed to be absent. This apparently is not always as easy as you would think. So you might not even reach the hymen. And not being able to see down there while attempting entry , neither partner may know what exactly is going on. In fact, when the doctor was able to get the vestibule open and test the hymen, there was actually no pain there!

It was all in the area before you even got to it! Rather, the anima is essentially the inner counterpart of the persona. Nature has no goals. Nature just is. The effect on the ego… is extremely difficult to eliminate. In the first place, it has extraordinary force and immediately endows the ego personality with an unshakable feeling of rightness and righteousness; and because in the second place, the reason for the effect is projected, that is, it appears to originate in objects and objective situations….

The archetype…fascinates and captures consciousness in an hypnotic way. Not infrequently this gives the ego an indistinct feeling of moral defeat, leading it to behave in an even more defensive, defiant and self-righteous manner. This inferiority feeling then closes the vicious circle and excludes all possibility of the reciprocal approbation essential for a relationship. Spring, , p. Depersonalizing the anima means what it says: seeing through the personal aspects of all personifications. It refers to that recognition that all the personal me-ness and self-important subjectivity derive from an archetype that is quite impersonal Anima, pp.

The ego feels threatened with annihilation. Including by the rest of the Psyche or larger Self, including the anima. I imagine the annihilation feared is likely from assimilation. For me, this is especially pronounced for AS, where the sensory stimulations of emotions are poorly regulated, and thus feel worse, like catastrophic almost. Especially when I learned that not caring about others feelings was sorely wrong and to be chastised. And then the social problems basically derailed all prospects with the opposite sex.

This drives the passion of fighting for what ego believes in. Even all my holiday nostalgia stems from being so young at events like the Thanksgiving Day parade or Rockefeller Center and feeling so small and insignificant amongst all the people, and perhaps even the lack of autonomy of being with my mother. The whole big world that looked so threatening, yet had a lot of pretty or fun looking distractions which basically require power and status to gain the most out of. It would work this way for all men.

They are fighting for their otherwise repressed i. For years, I was deeply resentful toward women, particularly the typical witty, spunky black woman role, because of feeling rejected by them as a teen, and then my mother even confirming this. So the thing with women is part of a larger attempt of ego to conquer the world. This just gets mixed up with the natural sex drive. Once achieved, the relationship can be the holding environment for the discovery of an even more radical integrity, which feels like the grace of God. In the tale, this radical integrity is mediated by the healing ointment.

It is clear that the relationship the surgeons primarily lack is to themselves. To recap the story, the surgeons arrive at the inn, and each one, respectively, cuts off a hand, his heart, and an eye, which they will then graft back onto their bodies with a healing ointment. However, the organs are to be kept in a larder until the morning. But the servant girl, being befuddled, from being in love with a soldier who is visiting, left a door open, and a cat came and stole the organs.

The next day, it fools the surgeons who graft these things on with the ointment, until they notice they are taking the chracteristics of the beings whom these organs come from, whether stealing, running to garbage like a pig, or being blind during the day, but seeing mice in total darkness at night. In the end, they demand money from the innkeeper. In the Ma-wang-tui manuscripts of the Tao Te Ching, the graph for te was composed of an eye and a heart. The ointment is the Tao.

The anima is really supposed to connect to the Self rather than the Shadow, and I guess it would do that if it faithfully guarded the organs representing integrity. Then integrity is compromised, consciousness is devoured, and military ruthlessness has its say in shaping the new attitudes that appear. Compromises are enemies of integrity, even though at first they seem quite naturally to lock into place.

These are frequent moods of postwar disillusionment, but they follow any effort at integrity that has been poorly contained. Our army surgeons are forced to recognize parts of the thief, the pig, and the cat in themselves, and this difficult confrontation leads to a more conscious relationship to envy, shame, and anxiety. Nevertheless, the would-be healers of integrity are left with a longing for wholeness. But even that is an improvement. Gone is the inflated reliance upon the power of Tao eventually to set things right. Instead, the chastened recognition of compromised integrity has produced a hunger for genuine healing.

So I can see the innkeeper which I assume to be the ego itself replacing the surgeons, or that the surgeons represent our own faculties, in which we try to solve problems. So we have the same problem, of losing those organs of te through an immature anima. I can see I certanly deal with envy, shame and anxiety. From there, it should also take care of the last thing, anxiety, covering the commonly cited v, which was regarding our standing with God, but similarly assumed to be any anxiety about life. Still, envy and anxiety about life are problems that should be overcome.

So the anima then is apparently what allows these problems to surface in life. I can see in my own life, that my reaction to things is what triggers all three conditions. It all boils down to fear of consequences. I admit, this is what has fired up my reaction to political conservativism which often appeals to the laws of nature as to why power should be imbalanced as it is, with the sufferers as to blame for their own plight.

This creates a genuine humility which enables the ego to want to learn from the Self rather than assume it the ego has all the answers.


Anima-consciousness favors a protective mimicry, an attachment to something or someone else to which it is echo. Here we see the wood nymphs that belong to trees, the souls which hover over waters, speak from dells and caves, or sing from the sea—rocks and whirlpools—and, most vividly, the succubus…. Anima is the reflective partner, she it is who provides the moment of reflection in the midst of what is naturally given. Without these soul-stirring emotions, there would be no significance in the natural places and human affairs to which she is attached. In other words, consciousness of this archetypal structure is never far from unconsciousness.

Its primary attachment is to the state of nature, to all things that simply are—life, fate, death—and which can only be reflected but never separated from their impenetrable opacity. Anima stays close to this field of the natural unconscious mind. Hillman, Anima, pp 23, These questions seem to issue from an other-personified as an anima…figure-who says, in effect: You must deal with me, respond to me, even if it is to reject me, but here I am and you cannot escape.

According to Emma Jung: The anima makes certain demands upon a man. She is a psychic factor that insists on being considered, not neglected as is the general tendency, since a man naturally likes to identify himself with his masculinity…. What matters to a woman is the personal relation, and this is true also of the anima. Her tendency is to entangle a man in such relationships, but she can also serve him well in giving them shape—that is she can do so after the feminine element has been incorporated into consciousness.

As long as this element works autonomously, it disturbs relations or makes them impossible. Two Essays, p. Where she acts on men as their internal other, the anima can mediate the discovery. Our achievement of any new awareness imposes on us, Jung would assert, a moral obligation to use what we now know—which, In the present case, means to continue relating to the anima. A first step might be to pay attention to our projections. The techniques Schellenbaum recommends are familiar staples of classical Jungian therapy—active imagination, dreamwork, drawing, painting, modeling—aimed at conducting a dialogue with the anima, paying special attention to the feeling-tone of the encounter: An aggressive affect…will neither be devalued nor denied.

Instead, judgment-free questions will be put: What do you want to say to me? What neglected aspect of my self seeks expression in you? Is there some necessary delimitation that you want to force from me? Are you signaling some life task that needs tackling? Or, what in my life would you like to destroy? A particular attitude or relationship, or a particular behavior of mine? Such a dialogue with the anima should, according to Jung, last as long as required for a subjective feeling of peace and satisfaction to set in…. The basic attitude of the mature anima, active receptivity, stimulates the pouring forth of images.

Gender and Soul, p. Hillman depicts ego-relativization process as uncovering layers of images for which heroic ego is not responsible. Person differentiates between ego and what has been projected onto it. Yet these false possessions do not constitute what is essential and enduring but rather are limited—and thus limiting. Symptoms of inflation include spells of anger force or coersion , power motivation, intellectual rigidity private truth or opinion equated with universal truth , and lust pure pleasure.

Just not by any of us, because we cannot possibly know all the factors that will lead to an event like an accident, including the forces creating the trajectories involved. Like what makes the person swerve one lane over instead of just a foot, and how much a substance or fatigue may have affected his reaction time, and then what made you be in his path at that moment. Life, fate and death are what Job was grappling with. The narrative does portray simply God and Satan as being behind it, but this is not usually revealed, and when we try to speculate on it, we always get it wrong.

Though what strikes me is that if knowing why regarding fate is beyond the reality limit, the actual temporal suffering of the stuff that makes us question in the first place i. Hence, the popularity of the above mentioned teachings. So it seems my rejecting of my portion in nature was to compensate for this. This is where I start questioning some of this. Subjectively, I can conjure up any idea. It seems letting go of ego just leaves us in a world where other inflated egos who seem to be favored by the circumstances, allowing them to credit themselves so much then dominate, affecting us.

Perhaps this is why others who embark on these kinds of paths leave and become monks. Who can stay in this world that provokes ego, and yet the key to wholeness and health is relativizing it? Trying to understand what the collective unconscious that ego is supposed to be relativized in favor of really is. All of these issues covering the balance of power in life. Overall, it still seems the universal message is a favoring of power.

F Practical: living with the losses S. Much of self-help is basically about coming to terms with the first three, assuming that will make you cope with the last one which is really the starting point, of course. I guess, for me, my difficulty with that is a combination of AS, plus S Sensing function simply being tertiary; and thus connected with the complexes ego states of the Puer which feels vulnerable and helpless sometimes , and the Trickster by which I feel totally bound.

And he later goes into a bit of nature as well. But it really shows the age of Law, and in which in reality, all men are wicked and would perish. And the friends did start off with [unspoken] care, but it quickly turned into justice. Yet, something still seemed to be missing from the equation. The common denominator of all of it, is the symmetry of give and take ; basically, a trade. The world often goes for the consensus, and thus seeming to not make sense. And this ultimately was the message of God to Job, who obviously came to despair of the physical world and his deflated place in it.

We then projected that lack of integrity onto the physical creation.