Upon the hearth the fire is red,
Beneath the roof there is a bed:
But not yet weary are our feet,
Still round the corner we may meet
A sudden tree or standing stone
That none have seen but we alone.
Tree and flower and leaf and grass,
Let them pass! Let them pass!
Hill and water under sky,
Pass them by! Pass them by!
Still round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate,
And though we pass them by today,
Tomorrow we may come this way
And take the hidden paths that run
Towards the Moon and to the Sun.
Apple, thorn and nut and sloe,
Let them go! Let them Go!
Sand and stone and pool and dell,
Fare you well! Fare you well!
Home is behind, the world ahead,
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadows to the edge of night,
Until the stars are all alight.
Then world behind and home ahead,
We'll wander back to home and bed.
Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,
Away shall fade! Away shall fade!
Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,
And then to bed! and then to bed!
It is unnecessary to say, that those shameful tumults, while they reflect indelible disgrace upon the time in which they occurred, and all who had act or part in them, teach a good lesson. That what we falsely call a religious cry is easily raised by men who have no religion, and who in their daily practice set at nought the commonest principles of right and wrong; that it is begotten of intolerance and persecution; that it is senseless, besotted, inveterate and unmerciful; all History teaches us. But perhaps we do not know it in our hearts too well, to profit by even so humble an example as the 'No Popery' riots of Seventeen Hundred and Eighty.
When I took this photo at 8:30 this morning, I heard Chickadees singing their Spring song!
"MY tree! MY tree!" This is the earliest I have ever heard it sung; usually it's just one early bird.
This was a whole chorus of Chickadees!
Vermont's interstate has two lanes on each side and no billboards.
, a story collection by Robert A. Heinlein. I'd read a few of the stories before, and the title story is one of my all time favorites. It makes me cry every time I read it.Containing some top notch poetry, "The Green Hills of Earth" tells the tale of Rhysling, sometimes baudy troubadour of the spaceways, and how in the end he became both a poet and a hero. The other stories of this volume don't rise to the lovely heights of "Green Hills," though "The Long Watch" comes close, but they are well worth reading, clunky old fashioned tech and sometimes equally old fashioned ideas of social relations not withstanding.
by David Lindley, a concise and accessible, indeed enjoyable, account of Quantum Theory's antecedents and of the ferment surrounding its development and early years. Lindley brings the personalities involved to life, not only those of the subtitle but also Max Born, Erwin Schrodinger and others. To my mind, he doesn't give Paul Dirac nearly enough credit or space. On the other hand, apart from Bohr he concentrates primarily on German speaking scientists.
DR. ERIC CHIVIAN, Center for Health and the Global Environment Director, Harvard Medical School: There are natural extinctions way before humans showed up. But it is clear that the extinction rate now is 100 to 1,000 and even more times what it was before.
FRED DE SAM LAZARO: It is sunny most mornings in Khairatpur, but you can hardly tell, at least not until some time after everyone's had breakfast. That's because here and in millions of villages in the developing world, food is cooked with wood or cow dung. The soot or black carbon from incomplete combustion causes not only lung disease, but global warming, says climatologist V. Ramanathan, who is with the Scripps Institution at the University of California, San Diego.
, 1868