GENTLE SPRING

GENTLE SPRING ! ~ in sunshine clad.
     Well dost thou thy power display !
For Winter maketh the light heart sad,
     And thou, ~ thou makest the sad heart gay.
He sees thee, and calls to his gloomy train,
The sleet, and the snow, and the wind, and the rain,
And they shrink away, and they flee in fear,
     When thy merry step draws near.

Winter giveth the fields and the trees, so old,
     Their beards of icicles and snow ;
And the rain, it raineth so fast and cold,
     We must cower over the embers low ;
And, snugly housed from the wind and weather,
Mope like birds that are changing feather.
But the storm retires, and the sky grows clear,
     When thy merry step draws near.

Winter maketh the sun in the gloomy sky
     Wrap him round with a mantle of cloud ;
But, Heaven he praised, they step is nigh ;
     Thou tearest away the mournful shroud,
And the earth looks bright, and Winter surly.
Who has toiled for nouht both late and early,
Is banished afar by the new-born year,
     When thy merry step draws near.

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Feb. 27, 1807 - Mar. 24, 1882) American poet.

WIND AND WINDOW FLOWER

Lovers, forget your love,
  And list to the love of these.
She a window flower,
  And he a winter breeze.

When the frosty window veil
  Was melted down at noon,
And the caged yellow bird
  Hung over her in tune,

He marked her through the pane
  He could not help but mark,
And only passed her by,
  To come again at dark.

He was a winter wind,
  Concerned with ice and snow,
Dead weeds and unmated birds,
  And little of love could know.

But he sighed upon the sill,
  He gave the sash a shake,
As witness all within
  Who lay that night awake.

Perchance he half prevailed
  To win her for the flight
From the firelit looking-glass
  And warm stove-window light.

But the flower leaned aside
  And thought of naught to say,
And morning found the breeze
  A hundred miles away.

~ Robert Frost

Hoping that you had a wonderful Valentine's Day!  We have been busy in the bookshop acknowledging some of the folks who have helped make the bookshop better.  If you are ever on facebook, check out the numerous photographs of fascinating personalities and of course authors who have visited us.

There are too many to mention and we don't have photographs of everyone.  It was in November of 2004 that our first bookshelves appeared on Cayuga Street.  We existed in a remote corner at 11 Cayuga Street opposite the red-brick building where Herb Martindale began the original Neat Little Bookshop.  There were five empty commercial windows at the time and since that, businesses have come and gone.  Thank you to all of our supporters:  family and friends, customers and fellow Cayuga Street businesses.

~ John & Lorna

Woods in Winter

When Winter winds are piercing chill,
   And through the hawthorn blows the gale,
With solemn feet I tread the hill
   That overbrows the lonely vale.

O'er the bare upland, and away
   Through the long reach of dessert woods,
The embracing sunbeams chastely play,
   And gladden these deep solitudes.

When, twisted round the barren oak,
   The summer vine in beauty clung,
And summer winds the stillness broke,
   The crystal icicle is hung.

Where, from their frozen urns, mute springs
   Pour out the river's gradual tide,
Shrilly the skater's iron rings,
   And voices fill the woodland side.

Alas !  how changed from the fair scene,
   When birds sang out their mellow lay,
And winds were soft, and woods were green,
   And the song ceased not with the day.

 But still wild music is abroad,
   Pale, desert woods ! within your crowd ;
And gathering winds, in hoarse accord,
   Amid the vocal reeds pipe loud.

Chill airs and wintry winds !  my ear
   Has grown familiar with your song ;
I hear it in the opening year, ~
   I listen, and it cheers me long.

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Feb. 27, 1807 - Mar. 24, 1882) American poet

The Secret of The Sea

AH!  what pleasant visions haunt me
     As I gaze upon the sea !
All the old romantic legends,
     All my dreams, come back to me.

Sails of silk and ropes of sandal,
     Such as gleam in ancient lore;
And the singing of the sailers,
     And the answer from the shore !

Most of all, the Spanish ballad
     Haunts me oft, and tarries long,
Of the noble Count Arnaldos
     And the sailor's mystic song.

Like the long waves on a sea-beach,
     Where the sand as silver shines,
With a soft monotonous cadence,
     Flow its unrhymed lyric lines ;-

Telling how the Count Arnaldos,
     With his hawk upon his hand,
Saw a fair and stately galley,
     Steering onward to the land ;-

How he heard the ancient helmsman
     Cant a song so wild and clear,
That the sailing sea-bird slowly
     Poised upon the mast to hear,

Till his soul was full of longing,
     And he cried with impulse strong, --
     "Helmsman ! for the love of heaven,
     Teach me, too, that wondrous song !"

"Wouldst thou," so the helmsman answered,
     "Learn the secrets of the sea?
Only those who brave its dangers
     Comprehend its mystery !"

In each sail that skims the horizon,
     In each landward-blowing breeze,
I behold that stately galley,
     Hear those mournful melodies ;

Till my soul is full of longing
     For the secret of the sea,
And the heart of the great ocean
     Sends a thrilling pulse through me.

~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (Feb. 27, 1807 - Mar. 24, 1882) American Poet,
THE POETICAL WORKS OF LONGFELLOW, Frederick Warne & Co.


[Secret of this sea is a photo of Lake Erie.]

 

The Neat Little Bookshop Wishes to Express Our Thanks

 

Customer Appreciation Days ~  Bookshop Specials

  

Customer Appreciation Days

The Piece Bag

A square of chintz ~ what memories it brings
Of golden dawns; of pleasant country things;
A moonlit scented garden after rain,
And glimpse of beechwoods through a latticed pane.


Serge and grey flannel, eloquent of boys,
Recall past days of jollity and noise;
Of chestnuts roasting in the fire's red glow,
And thrilling stories told when lights were low.

Organdie, muslin, dainty ends of lace
And silk, bridge for my eager mind time's space,
And waken sliver echoes, silent long,
Of girlish voices gay with mirth and song.

O remnants treasured here for future need,
You've been to loneliness a boon indeed;
For in my odd-piece bag, 'twixt smiles and tears,
I read the happy story of the years.

~ Ellen Elliott  [Yellowed clipping from THE GLOBE, TORONTO, FRIDAY OCTOBER 12 - year unknown.]

Weather

This is the weather the cuckoo likes,
                   And so do I;
When showers betumble the chestnut spikes,
                   And nestlings fly;
And the little brown nightingale bills his best,
And they sit outside at "The Traveller's Rest",
And maids come forth sprig-muslin drest,
And citizens dream of the south and west,
                    And so do I.

This is the weather the shepherd shuns,
                    And so do I;
When beeches drip in browns and duns,
                    And thresh, and ply;
And hill-hid tides throb, throe on thoe,
And meadow rivulets overflow,
And drops on gate-bars hang in a row,
And rooks in families homeward go,
                    And so do I.

~ Thomas Hardy (June 1848 - Jan. 11, 1928)  English novelist, poet.


"It is difficult for a woman to define her feelings in language which is chiefly made by men to express theirs." ~ Thomas Hardy

https://www.womensmarch.com/event-details/  On Jan. 21, 2017 women marched on Washington.

Ice Jam Grand River Cayuga

View From Robert Baigent Park Village Side

 

Ouse Street Looking South Toward Tennis Courts

Zoned Residential

Court House Grounds

The historic Court House Grounds are zoned residential.  OFFICIAL PLAN SCHEDULE "B.2"  CAYUGA URBAN AREA LAND USE PLAN ~ Map Prepared by:  Haldimand County Planning & Economic Development Dept. 

"Council is not forging ahead with residential zoning as the petition [Save the Parklands, Museum & Log Cabin*] states.  There has not even been discussion about that." ~ Ward 2 Councillor Morison.  Letter to The Haldimand Press and The Sachem, Oct. 27, 2016.

*  Change.org (Search key words i.e. log cabin)  Thank you for signing.

[Photos:  lbw]  UPDATE:  Since Report PED-GM-10-2016 became available on Thu., Nov. 10, it has become public knowledge that the County Court House Grounds are currently zoned "Institutional". 

THOUGHTS

I love the Autumn,
And yet I cannot say
All the thoughts and things
That make me feel this way.

I love walking on the angry shore,
To watch the angry sea;
Where summer people were before,
But now there's only me.

I love wood fires at night
That have a ruddy glow.
I stare at the flames
And think of long ago.

I love the feeling down inside me
That says to run away
To come and be a gypsy
And laugh the gypsy way.

The tangy taste of apples,
The snowy mist at morn,
The wanderlust inside you
When you hear the huntsman's horn.

Nostalgia---that's the Autumn,
Dreaming through September
Just a million lovely things
I always will remember.

~ Jacqueline Bouvier
A Family of Poems/  My Favorite Poetry For Children, Caroline Kennedy, HYPERION/HYPERION BOOKS FOR CHILDREN, 2005
[Please click on photo for larger image]

ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET

The poetry of earth is never dead :
     When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
     And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead  ;
That is the Grasshopper's ~ he takes the lead
     In summer luxury, ~ he has never done
     With his delights ; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never :
     On a lone winter evening, when the frost
          Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
     And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
          The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.

~ John Keats (1795 - 1821) English Romantic Poet.  The Poetical Works of John Keats edited with an Introduction and Textual Notes by H. Buxton Forman, C.B. , 1908 Reprinted...1940.

 

"All that I am or hope to be, I owe to my mother."

 

~ Abraham Lincoln





 

"It was when I had my first child that I understood how much my mother loved me."

~ from For Mother, A Bouquet of Sentiments

 

 

"Happy Mothers' Day"

 

 

 



How easy to work with birds singing and sunshine! [View from my desk]

 
 

 

 

 

Daffodils April 2, 2016

Daffodils April 1, 2016

APRIL 1885

Wanton with long delay the gay spring leaping cometh;
The blackthorn starreth now his bough on the eve of May:
All day in the sweet box-tree the bee for pleasure hummeth:
The cuckoo sends afloat his note on the air all day.

Now dewy nights again and rain in gentle shower
At root of tree and flower have quenched the winter's drouth:
On high the hot sun smiles, and banks of cloud uptower
In bulging heads that crowd for miles the dazzling south.

~ Robert Seymour Bridges (1844 - 1930) Britain's poet laureate.  Known for many hymns.

~ Chief Modern Poets of ENGLAND AND AMERICA
MACMILLAN COMPANY, 1936 (First ed. 1929)

The Flowers

ALL the names I know from nurse;
Gardener's garters, Shepherd's purse,
Bachelor's buttons, Lady's smock,
And the Lady Hollyhock.

Fairy places, fairy things,
Fairy woods where the wild bee wings,
Tiny trees for tiny dames ~
These must all be fairy names!

Tiny woods below whose boughs
Shady fairies weave a house;
Tiny tree-tops, rose or thyme,
Where the braver fairies climb!

Fair are grown-up people's trees,
But the fairest woods are these;
Where if I were not so tall,
I should live for good and all.

by Robert Louis Stevenson

 

Happy Holiday Easter Weekend