Poetry Friday- Yet another Installment of Lepanto

St. Michaels on his Mountain in the sea-roads of the north
(Don John of Austria is girt and going forth.)
Where the grey seas glitter and the sharp tides shift
And the sea-folk labour and the red sails lift.
He shakes his lance of iron and he claps his wings of stone;
The noise is gone through Normandy; the noise is gone alone;
The North is full of tangled things and texts and aching eyes,
And dead is all the innocence of anger and surprise,
And Christian killeth Christian in a narrow dusty room,
And Christian dreadeth Christ that hath a newer face of doom,
And Christian hateth Mary that God kissed in Galilee,--
But Don John of Austria is riding to the sea.
Don John calling through the blast and the eclipse
Crying with the trumpet, with the trumpet of his lips,
Trumpet that sayeth ha!
Domino gloria!
Don John of Austria
Is shouting to the ships.

And yet again, copied from this extremely useful source.

Gilbert: the Conference Edition

In case you couldn't tell from my brilliant title, Gilbert arrived today... not just any Gilbert, the conference edition Gilbert. Besides two lovely :) pictures of yours truly and the, dare I say typical, spread of columns and essays, there is a delightful summary of, you guessed it, ChesterCon 07 With a number of photos from the said event, GKC's short story, A Picture of Tuesday, and wonderful, though very short, essay by the same on "Who is Sunday?". The latter I found particularly interesting, having spent a good deal of time discussing and wondering about that very topic. Chesterton's summary, big surprise, is fascinating and makes perfect sense. If you don't "get gilbert?" (no pun intended) this essay can be found in Masie Ward's famed Gilbert Keith Chesterton. Oh and of course the annual Clerihew contest winners, the overall winner is....
Rob MacArthur for:
God
Is odd
He
Is three
(Just in case you didn't know that already:).
Oh and I really am planning on finishing my report, but school is kind of monopolizing my time, or at least my thoughts. But I really do want to finish it, I haven't talked about Aidan Mackey's "small" group discussion yet!

Poetry Friday- Lepanto continued

They rush in red and purple from the red clouds of the morn,
From the temples where the yellow gods shut up their eyes in scorn;
They rise in green robes roaring from the green hells of the sea
Where fallen skies and evil hues and eyeless creatures be,
On them the sea-valves cluster and the grey sea-forests curl,
Splashed with a splendid sickness, the sickness of the pearl;
They swell in sapphire smoke out of the blue cracks of the ground,--
They gather and they wonder and give worship to Mahound.
And he saith, "Break up the mountains where the hermit-folk can hide,
And sift the red and silver sands lest bone of saint abide,
And chase the Giaours flying night and day, not giving rest,
For that which was our trouble comes again out of the west.
We have set the seal of Solomon on all things under sun,
Of knowledge and of sorrow and endurance of things done.
But a noise is in the mountains, in the mountains, and I know
The voice that shook our palaces--four hundred years ago:
It is he that saith not 'Kismet'; it is he that knows not Fate;
It is Richard, it is Raymond, it is Godfrey at the gate!
It is he whose loss is laughter when he counts the wager worth,
Put down your feet upon him, that our peace be on the earth."
For he heard drums groaning and he heard guns jar,
(Don John of Austria is going to the war.)
Sudden and still--hurrah!
Bolt from Iberia!
Don John of Austria
Is gone by Alcalar.