tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383938214852108244.post8770836885539579563..comments2024-03-27T16:48:21.039-05:00Comments on Wuthering <br>Expectations: Sir Patrick Spens - O wha is this has done this deidAmateur Reader (Tom)http://www.blogger.com/profile/13675275555757408496noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383938214852108244.post-61891140524897632982012-09-12T19:15:52.227-05:002012-09-12T19:15:52.227-05:00Blood-red, youngster, blood-red! Now the symbolis...Blood-red, youngster, blood-red! Now the symbolism ought to be clear enough.Amateur Reader (Tom)https://www.blogger.com/profile/13675275555757408496noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383938214852108244.post-41944131912131307142012-09-12T19:05:49.044-05:002012-09-12T19:05:49.044-05:00why does the king drink blue reid wine, whats it s...why does the king drink blue reid wine, whats it symbolize or hint at?Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383938214852108244.post-28769468916456801972008-02-28T08:01:00.000-06:002008-02-28T08:01:00.000-06:00This has been great fun. Note that none of these v...This has been great fun. Note that none of these versions omit the wonderful "cork-heel'd shoon", giving us the image of the drowned sailors floating with their buoyant feet above their heads.Amateur Reader (Tom)https://www.blogger.com/profile/13675275555757408496noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383938214852108244.post-10787557754810806332008-02-27T17:47:00.000-06:002008-02-27T17:47:00.000-06:00Thank you kindly. I had no idea there were differe...Thank you kindly. I had no idea there were different versions of the poems. It's a shame I'm not at home with my poetry anthology which, I think, still has a different version from yours. I looked up in Bartleby and recognised this part two too (speaking of long...):<BR/><BR/><B>The Return</B><BR/><BR/><I>‘Mak ready, mak ready, my merry men a’! <BR/> Our gude ship sails the morn.’— <BR/>‘Now ever alack, my master dear, 35<BR/> I fear a deadly storm. <BR/> <BR/>X<BR/><BR/>‘I saw the new moon late yestreen <BR/> Wi’ the auld moon in her arm; <BR/>And if we gang to sea, master, <BR/> I fear we’ll come to harm.’ 40<BR/> <BR/>XI<BR/><BR/>They hadna sail’d a league, a league, <BR/> A league but barely three, <BR/>When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, <BR/> And gurly grew the sea. <BR/> <BR/>XII<BR/><BR/>The ankers brak, and the topmast lap, 45<BR/> It was sic a deadly storm: <BR/>And the waves cam owre the broken ship <BR/> Till a’ her sides were torn. <BR/> <BR/>XIII<BR/><BR/>‘O where will I get a gude sailor <BR/> To tak’ my helm in hand, 50<BR/>Till I get up to the tall topmast <BR/> To see if I can spy land?’— <BR/> <BR/>XIV<BR/><BR/>‘O here am I, a sailor gude, <BR/> To tak’ the helm in hand, <BR/>Till you go up to the tall topmast, 55<BR/> But I fear you’ll ne’er spy land.’ <BR/> <BR/>XV<BR/><BR/>He hadna gane a step, a step, <BR/> A step but barely ane, <BR/>When a bolt flew out of our goodly ship, <BR/> And the saut sea it came in. 60<BR/> <BR/>XVI<BR/><BR/>‘Go fetch a web o’ the silken claith, <BR/> Another o’ the twine, <BR/>And wap them into our ship’s side, <BR/> And let nae the sea come in.’ <BR/> <BR/>XVII<BR/><BR/>They fetch’d a web o’ the silken claith, 65<BR/> Another o’ the twine, <BR/>And they wapp’d them round that gude ship’s side, <BR/> But still the sea came in. <BR/> <BR/>XVIII<BR/><BR/>O laith, laith were our gude Scots lords <BR/> To wet their cork-heel’d shoon; 70<BR/>But lang or a’ the play was play’d <BR/> They wat their hats aboon. <BR/> <BR/>XIX<BR/><BR/>And mony was the feather bed <BR/> That flatter’d on the faem; <BR/>And mony was the gude lord’s son 75<BR/> That never mair cam hame. <BR/> <BR/>XX<BR/><BR/>O lang, lang may the ladies sit, <BR/> Wi’ their fans into their hand, <BR/>Before they see Sir Patrick Spens <BR/> Come sailing to the strand! 80<BR/> <BR/>XXI<BR/><BR/>And lang, lang may the maidens sit <BR/> Wi’ their gowd kames in their hair, <BR/>A-waiting for their ain dear loves! <BR/> For them they’ll see nae mair. <BR/> <BR/>XXII<BR/><BR/>Half-owre, half-owre to Aberdour, 85<BR/> ’Tis fifty fathoms deep; <BR/>And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, <BR/> Wi’ the Scots lords at his feet!</I>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383938214852108244.post-62940391750215296182008-02-27T16:49:00.000-06:002008-02-27T16:49:00.000-06:00Noted and amended. The lines about the seawater ru...Noted and amended. The lines about the seawater running out the captain's sleeves are especially good.Amateur Reader (Tom)https://www.blogger.com/profile/13675275555757408496noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3383938214852108244.post-2980162450238705942008-02-27T14:49:00.000-06:002008-02-27T14:49:00.000-06:00Oh, but you left out the best part, the second bit...Oh, but you left out the best part, the second bit on the ship! That's what really drew me in when I was a kid (no more than 10 if that) when I came up on it in what soon became my first honest-to-goodness poetry anthology.<BR/><BR/>The Scottish ballads really appealed to me because of the rebellious themes. (OK, all the action: fighting, heroism, betrayal, tragic defeat, fighting...) Do I even know any English ones well...? I must but I can't recall any at the moment.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com