Show Notes
Welcome back to Season 18 of the Well Read Poem. During this season, we are offering our listeners six poems about family life. The poems selected for this season are quite various in style and manner, and have been chosen for the light they shed on relationships between parents and children, between husbands and wives, brothers and sisters. We hope that these readings will, in their small way, add a measure of comfort and happiness to the lives of our audience during these winter months. Today's poem is "Forefathers" by Edmund Blunden. Poem reading begins at timestamp . Forefathers by Edmund Blunden Here they went with smock and crook, Toiled in the sun, lolled in the shade, Here they mudded out the brook And here their hatchet cleared the glade: Harvest-supper woke their wit, Huntsmen's moon their wooings lit.
From this church they led their brides, From this church themselves were led Shoulder-high; on these waysides Sat to take their beer and bread. Names are gone - what men they were These their cottages declare.
Names are vanished, save the few In the old brown Bible scrawled; These were men of pith and thew, Whom the city never called; Scarce could read or hold a quill, Built the barn, the forge, the mill.
On the green they watched their sons Playing till too dark to see, As their fathers watched them once, As my father once watched me; While the bat and beetle flew On the warm air webbed with dew.
Unrecorded, unrenowned, Men from whom my ways begin, Here I know you by your ground But I know you not within - There is silence, there survives Not a moment of your lives.
Like the bee that now is blown Honey-heavy on my hand, From his toppling tansy-throne In the green tempestuous land - I'm in clover now, nor know Who made honey long ago.
More from The Well Read Poem
As befits the time of year, we are reading six poems of Advent and Christmas during this re-airing of the fourteenth season of the Well-Read Poem. We have selected certain familiar ones, which may yet contain certain surprises in their authorship and composition history, as well as some less well-known pieces which we hope will help you better enjoy the late days of the year leading up to the great Feast of the Nativity of Christ the Lord. Today's poem is "Christmas" by John Betjeman. Reading begins at timestamp 5:47. Christmas by John Betjeman The bells of waiting Advent ring, The Tortoise stove is lit again And lamp-oil light across the night Has caught the streaks of winter rain In many a stained-glass window sheen From Crimson Lake to Hookers Green.
As befits the time of year, we will be reading six poems of Advent and Christmas during this season of the Well-Read Poem, which is a re-airing of episodes from Season 14. We have selected certain familiar ones, which may yet contain certain surprises in their authorship and composition history, as well as some less well-known pieces which we hope will help you better enjoy the late days of the year leading up to the great Feast of the Nativity of Christ the Lord. Today's poem is "Noël" by Théophile Gautier in translation by Agnes Lee. Reading begins at timestamps 5:15 and 7:00. Noël (Christmas) by Théophile Gautier, trans. by Agnes Lee Black is the sky and white the ground. O ring, ye bells, your carol's grace! The Child is born! A love profound Beams o'er Him from His Mother's face. No silken woof of costly show Keeps off the bitter cold from Him. But spider-webs have drooped them low, To be His curtain soft and dim. Now trembles on the straw downspread The Little Child, the Star beneath. To warm Him in His holy bed, Upon Him ox and ass do breathe. Snow hangs its fringes on the byre. The roof stands open to the tryst Of aureoled saints, that sweetly choir To shepherds, "Come, behold the Christ!"
As befits the time of year, we will be reading six poems of Advent and Christmas. This series is a re-airing of episodes from Season 14. We have selected certain familiar poems, which may yet contain certain surprises in their authorship and composition history, as well as some less well-known pieces which we hope will help you better enjoy the late days of the year leading up to the great Feast of the Nativity of Christ the Lord. Today's poem is "Good King Wenceslas" by Vaclav Svoboda in translation by John Mason Neale. Reading begins at timestamp 6:53. Good King Wenceslas by Vaclav Svoboda, translation by John Mason Neale Good King Wenceslas look'd out, On the Feast of Stephen; When the snow lay round about, Deep, and crisp, and even: Brightly shone the moon that night, Though the frost was cruel, When a poor man came in sight, Gath'ring winter fuel.
As befits the time of year, we will be reading six poems of Advent and Christmas. This series is a re-airing of episodes from Season 14. We have selected certain familiar ones, which may yet contain certain surprises in their authorship and composition history, as well as some less well-known pieces which we hope will help you better enjoy the late days of the year leading up to the great Feast of the Nativity of Christ the Lord. Today's poem is "Christmas Carol" by Sara Teasdale. Reading begins at timestamps 4:49 and 7:48. Christmas Carol by Sara Teasdale The kings they came from out the south, All dressed in ermine fine; They bore Him gold and chrysoprase, And gifts of precious wine.
As befits the time of year, we will be re-visiting six poems of Advent and Christmas during this twentieth season of the Well-Read Poem. We have selected certain familiar ones, which may yet contain certain surprises in their authorship and composition history, as well as some less well-known pieces which we hope will help you better enjoy the late days of the year leading up to the great Feast of the Nativity of Christ the Lord. Today's poem is "Mistletoe" by Walter de la Mare. Reading begins at timestamps 5:23 and 8:10. Mistletoe by Walter de la Mare Sitting under the mistletoe (Pale-green, fairy mistletoe), One last candle burning low, All the sleepy dancers gone, Just one candle burning on, Shadows lurking everywhere: Some one came, and kissed me there.