A medievalist, feminist, life-long student, and middle school teacher sounds off on any and all issues that inform any of those identities.
The name is simply a misspelling -- because English has lost a few characters over the years -- of the Anglo-Saxon words for "she" (Heo) and "said" (Cwaeth).
There are two basic rules for this blog:
1) Comments are welcome from anyone--agree or disagree--but will be deleted if they are vile.
2) I decide what's vile.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Happy New Year!
I was listening to NPR on my drive home from Microburg to Charmingly Historical Edge City yesterday, lost in thought, and the woman on the mid-Pennsylvania NPR station read this poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. The poem is, I think, the perfect New Year's wish for this year.
Ring Out, Wild Bells
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light;
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind,
For those that here we see no more,
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease,
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be. - Alfred Lord Tennyson