Charles Clanton Rogers

Reflections based on poetry, music, visual art, book reviews, history of science, first-person history, philosophical essays and International Blogging

https://clanton1934.files.wordpress.com/2015/06/61-sir-john-langtons-pavan-p-14a.m4a10863925_1530686147218599_4058326466553929287_oImage by Urscia Mahring, courtsey of the artist

“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
‘Stay where you are until our backs are turned!’
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.’
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
‘Why do they make good neighbors? Isn’t it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I’d ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That wants it down.’ I could say ‘Elves’ to him,
But it’s not elves exactly, and I’d rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father’s saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, ‘Good fences make good neighbors.”

by Robert Frost, 1874-1963 Poet Laureat, United States

Thank you for “”Flying Zebra”!  “Caring is sharing”   Feel free to “reblog” or share on your FB ppage.

4 thoughts on “Mending Wall

  1. bbnewsab says:

    How I love that kind of music! So far, Kung Karl, all your music links have contained a key to unlock my sometimes frozen heart.

    It’s my strong opinion that music can be a short cut to happiness. It sets free our emotions.

    And above that, Karl, I also feel I have to compliment you on all the beautiful pictures you choose to adorn and embellish your blog posts with.

    In short, who can feel sad when listening to such “heavenly” music and looking at such “paradisiac” pictures?

    You know, Kung Karl, how to spread – and share – the joy (we all need to feel to get a high life quality).

    BTW, in some way or other your included poem by Robert Frost reminds me of William Blake and his poem “To see a world”

    To see a World in a Grain of Sand
    And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
    Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
    And Eternity in an hour.

    A Robin Redbreast in a Cage
    Puts all Heaven in a Rage.
    A dove house fill’d with doves and pigeons
    Shudders Hell thro’ all its regions.
    A Dog starv’d at his Master’s Gate
    Predicts the ruin of the State.
    A Horse misus’d upon the Road
    Calls to Heaven for Human blood.
    Each outcry of the hunted Hare
    A fiber from the Brain does tear.

    He who shall train the Horse to War
    Shall never pass the Polar Bar.
    The Beggar’s Dog and Widow’s Cat,
    Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.
    The Gnat that sings his Summer song
    Poison gets from Slander’s tongue.
    The poison of the Snake and Newt
    Is the sweat of Envy’s Foot.

    A truth that’s told with bad intent
    Beats all the Lies you can invent.
    It is right it should be so;
    Man was made for Joy and Woe;
    And when this we rightly know
    Thro’ the World we safely go.

    Every Night and every Morn
    Some to Misery are Born.
    Every Morn and every Night
    Some are Born to sweet delight.
    Some are Born to sweet delight,
    Some are Born to Endless Night.

    Those words I’d like to dedicate to you, dear Kung Karl, but also to my dear cyber friend Rachie (rachelgriffin22).

    Yes, she’s the one who wrote this memoir-like blog pearl: https://wehaveapples.wordpress.com/2015/07/22/people-with-depression-are-strong-not-weak-heres-my-case/ .

    Liked by 1 person

    1. clanton1934 says:

      I was taughht William Blake in college and also admire his work. car

      Liked by 1 person

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