IMPORTANT NOTICE: The blogger has received notice of new responsibilities relevant to new "laws" coming from the European Union. The blogger receives no personally indentifiable information. As the task of understanding just what this new "law" (not applicable to American citizens) means will take some time, The Musical Patriot respectfully asks citizens in the European Union to cease and desist from accessing this blog for the time being. I completely regret the need for this request. When things are clearer, I will have more to say. I look forward to welcoming Europeans back to this blog. Europeans and others are instead directed to my new blog with a new host. (See link in post below.)
Welcome to THE MUSICAL PATRIOT (In Exigency), a web log of information and inspiration. Also included are events of interest in my own life. (Comments to any post may be made by clicking on the "COMMENTS" link. Commenting is moderated.) This blog is now in its thirteenth year. To get the most out of this blog a free subscription is recommended. See "Subscribe To" in the column to the right.
Saturday, November 22, 2014
She that but little patience knew,
From childhood on, had now so much
A grey gull lost its fear and flew
Down to her cell and there alit,
And there endured her fingers' touch
And from her fingers ate its bit.
Did she in touching that lone wing
Recall the years before her mind
Became a bitter, an abstract thing,
Her thought some popular enmity:
Blind and leader of the blind
Drinking the foul ditch where they lie?
When long ago I saw her ride
Under Ben Bulben to the meet,
The beauty of her country-side
With all youth's lonely wildness stirred,
She seemed to have grown clean and sweet
Like any rock-bred, sea-borne bird:
Sea-borne, or balanced in the air
When first it sprang out of the nest
Upon some lofty rock to stare
Upon the cloudy canopy,
While under its storm-beaten breast
Cried out the hollows of the sea.
Rush Link -- Bill Clinton on Rise of Nationalism