Let's reclaim the old Askville with some intelligent discussions: what's your 'inheritance' poem or quotation?

Reach for the stars, gang! Asked by EnglishLady 38 months ago Similar questions: reclaim Askville intelligent discussions inheritance poem quotation Amazon > Askville.

Similar questions: reclaim Askville intelligent discussions inheritance poem quotation.

The ghwayman by Alfred Noyes I read it when I was young in my Childcraft books. I found it compelling but quite frankly too young to really understand. In gh School English the assignment was to orate a piece of mystery or something we found mysterious in front of the class.As soon as I heard that assignment I KNEW what I would choose and I went home to pull that Childcraft book from the shelf.

I hadn't read that poem in years but I remembered how utterly compelling it was to me. I can look back and understand what "passion" really is when I read that poem and it has stayed with me ever. I stood brave to my companions in that English class that warm summer afternoon and I spoke from my heart.

It was brave. It was long.It was passionate and I will never forget it. Oh - I do remember this...how hard it was to say the word "tlot" I worried about that.

I didn't want any laughter at that point. And there was none. The room was utterly silent.

I cannot recite by heart, so I have only a copy/paste - but go ahead. Take a breath and read this. The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees, The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding-- Riding--riding-- The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.

He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin; He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin. They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh! And he rode with a jeweled twinkle-- s rapier hilt a-twinkle-- s pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard, He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred, He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter-- Bess, the landlord's daughter-- Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair. Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked-- s eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay, But he loved the landlord's daughter-- The landlord's black-eyed daughter; Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say: "One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light. Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.

" He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand, But she loosened her hair in the casement! S face burnt like a brand As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast, Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight (O sweet black waves in the moonlight! ), And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon. And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon, When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor, The redcoat troops came marching-- Marching--marching-- King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door. They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead, But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.

Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side; There was Death at every window, And Hell at one dark window, For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride. They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest! They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!

"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say, "Look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way. " She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!

She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood! They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years, Till, on the stroke of midnight, Cold on the stroke of midnight, The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest; Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast. She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again, For the road lay bare in the moonlight, Blank and bare in the moonlight, And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain. Tlot tlot, tlot tlot!

Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear; Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?

Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, The highwayman came riding-- Riding--riding-- The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still. Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence!

Tlot tlot, in the echoing night! Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!

Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath, Then her finger moved in the moonlight-- Her musket shattered the moonlight-- Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death. He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood! Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear How Bess, the landlord's daughter, The landlord's black-eyed daughter, Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky, With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high! Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat When they shot him down in the highway, Down like a dog in the highway, And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat. And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor, The highwayman comes riding-- Riding--riding-- The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard, He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred, He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter-- Bess, the landlord's daughter-- Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Yes, a special one, a few lines of poetry ... This is one poem I've always kept close as a guideline ... He who seeks to save his soul alone, May find the path but will not reach the goal. But he who works in Love may wander far, Yet God will bring him where the Blessed are. - by my fave author, MacDonald-Bayne..

This is sooo politically incorrect. But please know that kids in Brooklyn routinely kidded one another over ethnicity religion, etc. Twas the night before Chanukah and all through the schul Not a rabbi was preaching they were all shooting pool The tires were hung by the chimney with care In hopes that St Nichlas would fill 'em with air..

1 ONLY A PERSON WHO RISKS IS FREEby Author UnknownTo laugh is to risk appearing the fool. To weep is to risk appearing sentimental. To reach for another is to risk involvement.To expose your ideas, your dreams,before a crowd is to risk their loss.

To love is to risk not being loved in return. To live is to risk dying.To believe is to risk despair. To try is to risk failure.

But risks must be taken, because thegreatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. The people who risk nothing, do nothing,have nothing, are nothing. They may avoid suffering and sorrow,but they cannot learn, feel, change,grow, love, live.

Chained by their attitudes they are slaves;they have forfeited their freedom. Only a person who risks is free .

ONLY A PERSON WHO RISKS IS FREEby Author UnknownTo laugh is to risk appearing the fool. To weep is to risk appearing sentimental. To reach for another is to risk involvement.To expose your ideas, your dreams,before a crowd is to risk their loss.

To love is to risk not being loved in return. To live is to risk dying.To believe is to risk despair. To try is to risk failure.

But risks must be taken, because thegreatest hazard in life is to risk nothing. The people who risk nothing, do nothing,have nothing, are nothing. They may avoid suffering and sorrow,but they cannot learn, feel, change,grow, love, live.

Chained by their attitudes they are slaves;they have forfeited their freedom. Only a person who risks is free.

2 I got this from my father and passed it to my daughter:"Good", "Better", "Best",Never let it restuntil "Good" becomes "Better" and"Better" becomes "Best".

I got this from my father and passed it to my daughter:"Good", "Better", "Best",Never let it restuntil "Good" becomes "Better" and"Better" becomes "Best".

I'm trying to come up with my own bingo card for political discussions on Askville and need some help, please! " "Let's reclaim the old Askville with some intelligent discussions. How's about telling your musical inheritance tracks?" "How many of you are participating in Askville discussions while at work?

" "Why do you chose to participate in, or to avoid, political discussions here on Askville? " "Do you ever browse through old questions and discussions here in askville?" "Why is it that discussions on Askville stop short just when they're getting interesting? " "I notice that more and more of us are "answering" Questions via Discussions.

Might this signal the "end" of Askville?" "Reclaim the old Askville with some intelligent discussion: what have you forgotten so completely that it's gone forever? " "If I am on 'My Askville Page', how do I get to the main Discussions Page? " "With all the political discussions we have on Askville.

Can we agree that with recent events.

I'm trying to come up with my own bingo card for political discussions on Askville and need some help, please!

Let's reclaim the old Askville with some intelligent discussions. How's about telling your musical inheritance tracks?

I notice that more and more of us are "answering" Questions via Discussions. Might this signal the "end" of Askville?

With all the political discussions we have on Askville. Can we agree that with recent events.

I cant really gove you an answer,but what I can give you is a way to a solution, that is you have to find the anglde that you relate to or peaks your interest. A good paper is one that people get drawn into because it reaches them ln some way.As for me WW11 to me, I think of the holocaust and the effect it had on the survivors, their families and those who stood by and did nothing until it was too late.