"To the Welsh"

I finished reading Llyfr Mormon, The Book of Mormon in Welsh. My system was not to translate every word or understand every grammatical structure. I simply read it along with the original English translation of Joseph Smith which was done by the gift and power of God. Mine was more for the general sense of it and I cannot deny that I felt the Spirit of God witness in the language of my ancient fathers and mothers.

Regeneration by Henry Vaughan

Spring is Easter is Passover is Life from Death:

Regeneration

A ward, and still in bonds, one day

I stole abroad;

It was high spring, and all the way

Primrosed and hung with shade;

Yet was it frost within,

And surly winds

Blasted my infant buds, and sin

Like clouds eclipsed my mind.

Stormed thus, I straight perceived my spring

Mere stage and show,

My walk a monstrous, mountained thing,

Roughcast with rocks and snow;

And as a pilgrim’s eye,

Far from relief,

Measures the melancholy sky,

Then drops and rains for grief,

So sighed I upwards still; at last

’Twixt steps and falls

I reached the pinnacle, where placed

I found a pair of scales;

I took them up and laid

In th’ one, late pains;

The other smoke and pleasures weighed,

But proved the heavier grains.

With that some cried, “Away!” Straight I

Obeyed, and led

Full east, a fair, fresh field could spy;

Some called it Jacob’s bed,

A virgin soil which no

Rude feet ere trod,

Where, since he stepped there, only go

Prophets and friends of God.

Here I reposed; but scarce well set,

A grove descried

Of stately height, whose branches met

And mixed on every side;

I entered, and once in,

Amazed to see ’t,

Found all was changed, and a new spring

Did all my senses greet.

The unthrift sun shot vital gold,

A thousand pieces,

And heaven its azure did unfold,

Checkered with snowy fleeces;

The air was all in spice,

And every bush

A garland wore; thus fed my eyes,

But all the ear lay hush.

Only a little fountain lent

Some use for ears,

And on the dumb shades language spent

The music of her tears;

I drew her near, and found

The cistern full

Of divers stones, some bright and round,

Others ill-shaped and dull.

The first, pray mark, as quick as light

Danced through the flood,

But the last, more heavy than the night,

Nailed to the center stood;

I wondered much, but tired

At last with thought,

My restless eye that still desired

As strange an object brought.

It was a bank of flowers, where I descried

Though ’twas midday,

Some fast asleep, others broad-eyed

And taking in the ray;

Here, musing long, I heard

A rushing wind

Which still increased, but whence it stirred

No where I could not find.

I turned me round, and to each shade

Dispatched an eye

To see if any leaf had made

Least motion or reply,

But while I listening sought

My mind to ease

By knowing where ’twas, or where not,

It whispered, “Where I please.”

“Lord,” then said I, “on me one breath,

And let me die before my death!”

Cant. chap. 5. ver. 17 [KJV Song of Solomon 4:16 ]

Arise O North, and come thou South-wind and blow upon my garden, that

the spices thereof may flow out.

HENRY VAUGHAN (1621-1695)


-more poetry by Henry Vaughan here

My Library, Part 2

The further adventures of me in my library.

This one is mostly about children's books and reading to children. Enjoy:

Where I spend a lot of my time.

 

Am I less anonymous if I post a video of me in here? I'm far from an "internet sensation" and I couldn't even figure out Tic-Tok that well. The filming is pretty poor. This is maybe for posterity's sake, maybe to explain a little about myself.